01 - Honour of the Grave (33 page)

Angelika emerged from the cart. In a low voice, she said to Benno, “You stay
here. The two of us will go.”

“What?” he mouthed, as Franziskus climbed out.

“We’ll go. We’ll get the door open without killing anyone. You stay here and
watch the cart.”

“We can’t change the attack now. You should have—”

“I only decided it just now.”

“Two against two lessens the odds.”

“We’ll take the risk. You underestimate us.”

She set off. He seized her arm, pulled her back. “You think you can save the
guards this way?”

“No good has ever been done in this world by murder.”

He anxiously surveyed the darkened square for observers. “You know the world
better than that! If Lukas goes missing, they’re dead anyway! What do you think
happened to the two guards who let you escape yesterday?” Benno gave Angelika a
brief chance to admit she didn’t know, then went on. They were executed this
morning. Gross dereliction, my father called it. In military punishment, he
favours a modern approach: death by gunshot. Now they lie in beggar’s graves. If
we
kill Olli and Renald, their families still get pensions, at least.
They die as heroes, felled by bandits. Would you deprive them of both lives and
honour?”

Angelika glanced up at the tower. “In that case…” She shook her head
violently. “All three of us go. But we pull blades on them and give them the
choice. Stand and fight and die, or run away and live.”

“Better to strike without warning.”

“You need our help. We’ll do it my way.”

Benno let loose a stream of murmured profanities, nodded his clenched jaw at
her, and led the way to the foot of the curving stone stairs that led to the
tower. They ran up. Franziskus drew his new rapier, then remembered he was
supposed to be a prisoner. He stuck it back into its scabbard without breaking
stride. Once inside the tower, and no longer exposed to passersby, they slowed
their pace. Hands on the backs of their heads, Angelika and Franziskus took up
their roles as resentful captives, edging reluctantly up the stairs. Angelika even
stopped for a moment, making Benno prod her with the flat of his outstretched
sabre. They looked from side to side, as if alert for opportunities to make a
break for it. The performance went to waste; they saw the guardsmen only when
the front of the door came within sight.

“Found some more work for you, boys!” Benno called out, in his most jovial
manner.

“Commandant Benno?”

Benno’s nose twitched. The voice did not belong to either Olli or Renald.
Finally as he cleared the curving wall, he got a good view of them. Renald was
there, but the other guardsman was a new recruit, one whose name he could not
recall. The new fellow was short and dark-eyed, with a complexion that suggested
some Tilean or even Araby blood in him. Both regarded Benno and his prisoners
with undisguised bafflement. They wore breastplates, carried sabres, and had
burnished steel helmets on their heads.

“Renald,” he said, “where’s Olli?”

“He’s come down with the croup, sir.”

“That so? Well, I’ve found you some more guarding to do. I personally caught
these two lurking around my father’s manor. Guess the reward stays in the
family, hah?”

“Good for you, sir.”

“Unlock the door,” Benno said. “I want to get these two shackled, quick.”

The unfamiliar guard hesitated. “Commandant, sir, we was clearly told…”

“Told what? What’s your name?”

The guard took a deep breath and tapped the heels of his boots together.
“Gottfried, sir. Nino Gottfried.”

“Speak up, Nino. What were you told?”

“Your father’s orders, sir—we was strictly instructed, there was no, no
condition at all where we could even—If we even think of unlocking this door,
sir…” He made the throat-slitting gesture across his throat. “You understand,
sir.”

“My father will be pleased you spoke up for his orders. I’ll commend you to
him. But the situation—”

Angelika winked at Franziskus. Renald saw this and came down the steps at
them, pointing his sabre at her. Nino loosed his sword, too, and held it out before him, unsure who to aim it at.

“They were planning a move, sir,” Renald said to Benno. “I saw this one give
the sign to the other.”

“Treacherous sow!” Benno cried, smacking the back of Angelika’s head with his
free hand. She exclaimed in genuine pain. Benno refixed his gaze on Nino. “You
think my father wants them to escape a second time? Open the cursed door!”

Nino’s sword clattered to the floor as he fumbled in his belt for the key
ring. Benno wrinkled his face in annoyed impatience. He tapped his foot. Nino’s
fingers shook, jangling the keys. He stuck the key in the door but it wouldn’t
turn. Benno skipped up the steps to swipe it from his hand. Renald jabbed his
swordpoint in Angelika’s direction, and then in Franziskus’. Benno opened the
door. He swept inside. Nino bent to scoop up his sabre and point it at
Franziskus’ throat. Renald prodded Angelika, pushing his hilt-guard into her
side. He ordered her up to the door. Angelika regarded him with slow contempt.
She and Franziskus moved slowly up the stairs. Renald and Nino stood aside to
make room for them. They shuffled resentfully into the cell.

Lukas hung shackled from the wooden beam in the centre of the room. A long
spike had been driven into the beam, about seven feet from the floor. His wrist
shackles were fastened to it, forcing him to stand with arms above his head. His
hair had been shaved off, leaving a dense, black stubble on his scalp. Red lines
marked the razor cuts of a careless barber. The boy had a freshly fattened lip,
purple and swollen. His eyes fluttered and widened. “Franziskus!” he cried.

Benno, already at his side, worked a key into the wrist cuffs. “Come here!”
he barked, to Nino. “It’s stuck!”

Nino hopped to it. Renald saw that Angelika’s belt still had a pair of
daggers in it. “Their weapons!” he exclaimed, warning Nino, who halted
mid-stride.

“But why—” he choked, as Benno snatched his sabre from his hand. Angelika
seized Renald’s sword-arm. Franziskus punched him in the gut. He bent over,
gasping. Franziskus gaped guiltily at him. Angelika twisted Renald’s arm until
he groaned and opened his hand, dropping the sabre to the floor. Benno stuck a foot behind Nino’s leg, pushed him over on his back, and
crouched over him, a knife to his throat.

Franziskus shook his head and stepped to the door, swinging it shut. He
picked up the keys, which Benno had dropped, and freed Lukas. Limp, the boy fell
into Franziskus’ arms, nearly knocking him over. Franziskus lowered him to the
floor. “I knew you would come,” he said.

Benno used the point of his sabre to herd Renald and Nino into a corner.
Angelika bent over Lukas; he flinched when he saw her. “You’re hurt?” she asked.
He nodded. “Injured,” she asked, “or just fatigue, from the way they hung you?”

“Fatigue,” he breathed.

“You’d better find the strength to run, and find it fast!” she told him.

“Commandant, sir,” Renald said, “why are you doing this?”

Benno picked up a metal lamp, which burned on the floor, and held it up,
gazing intently into the guards’ faces. His right hand kept a sword steady at
their chests. “My accomplices want to spare your lives. I think it’s safer not
to. Convince me that if I tell you both to flee town and never come back, you’ll
do it, and you’ll do it now, without getting yourselves caught.”

“Please, commandant, sir…” said Renald.

Benno moved the sword to him. “Unconvincing,” he said.

“Sir,” said Nino, “if you stop now, if you let us reshackle the boy, I swear
to you we’ll never—”

Benno lifted the lantern until it was next to Nino’s cheek; both men could
feel the heat of its flame. “A poor line of argument.” He set the lamp down.
“I’ll repeat myself, one last time. Can you run from here, now, and never be
seen again? Or must we slay you?”

“We’ll run,” gulped Nino.

“Is the boy ready?” Benno asked Angelika.

“Can you stand?” she asked Lukas.

With difficulty, young von Kopf made it up to his knees; Franziskus extended
an arm to him.

“No.” Angelika curtly shook her head. “He must do it on his own power.”

Lukas strained, grunted, stood, wavered, and then was steady.

“The boy is ready,” Angelika told Benno.

“Here is how we will proceed,” Benno instructed the men. “We will all walk
quickly down the steps together. When we hit the courtyard, you will silently
walk to the city gates and—” He turned to Angelika. “It won’t work. The men on
the gates may know they’re supposed to be on duty.” He took a step back. “I’m
sorry, fellows.” He levelled his sabre. Angelika braced herself to leap at him
and pull him away from the guards.

Boot soles scraped outside the closed door. A voice boomed: “What in the
fiery halls of Hell is this?”

Gelfrat.

Benno swore. He dived for the door. So did Angelika. They pushed their weight
against it. Gelfrat was pushing from the other side.

Renald and Nino rushed Franziskus. He drew his rapier and stepped in front of
Lukas, swiping it through the air to keep the guards at bay. Lukas stumbled to
retrieve Nino’s dropped sabre.

“Explain yourselves, you manky swine!” Gelfrat shouted, as Benno and
Angelika’s feet slid on stone. He’d shoved them back a couple of inches, opening
the door a crack.

“Help us!” Angelika shouted to Franziskus.

“We’re occupied over here!” he replied.

“You two! I knew it!” Gelfrat bellowed.

“And Commandant Benno, too!” called Renald.

“You’re a dead man, Renald!” Benno said, his lips sideways.

The door was six inches open. Angelika shifted her posture for better
leverage but it was no use.

“Benno?” Gelfrat howled. “What goes on here?”

“Gelfrat, my brother, listen to me…”

“Half-brother!”

The door was nine inches open.

“We must get the boy far from here, before our father ruins himself!”

“We? We, you say?”

The gap was a foot wide.

Nino picked up the lamp and threw it at Lukas’ head. The boy ducked. The oil
sprayed wide. A small puddle of it burned in a far corner. Franziskus craned his
head to see if there was anything the flames might catch on. There didn’t seem to be. Just stone and more stone. Nino charged him. He slashed Nino’s
cheek. Nino stepped back, hand on face, blood drizzling through his fingers.
Renald ceded space to Franziskus.

Gelfrat shoved the door open another three inches and then squeezed into the
gap, jamming his wide, thick body between door and frame. Benno reared back and
slammed his weight into the door. Gelfrat grunted; his face turning red.
Angelika pushed harder.

Gelfrat shoved again. “The witch has entrapped you in her honey snare, has
she?”

“This is for the family good, Gelfrat. The good of all the von Kopfs.”

Gelfrat clenched his teeth. Veins danced on his neck and forehead. “I am so
glad to catch you in treachery, Benno. There’s no set of guts I hate worse than
yours.” He got his arms up and his palms flat against the door. Using the wall
to brace himself, he won another couple of inches.

Lukas edged toward the door. Renald moved to block him.

“People call me a brute,” panted Gelfrat. “But you—I may strike hard, I may
shed the blood of men. But I strike in honest warfare, or when drunk, or angry.
You, Benno. You—You’re worse than a brute. Cold. Calculation. Narrowing your
eyes, deciding pain or mercy like you’re writing in a ledger book. Cruel,
heartless. And now—”

Grunting like a hog on the slaughter table, he forced the door another foot,
squeezing his way into the room, clear of the door. With no resistance to
counter their weight, Benno and Angelika fell onto the door as it slammed back
shut.

Gelfrat wrapped his paw around the back of Benno’s neck. Benno swung a fist
into Gelfrat’s side; the big man took no notice of the blow. He put his thumbs
in the middle of Benno’s throat. “Even if you weren’t competition,” he said, as
Benno’s eyes bugged, “I have dreamt of this for nearly a year now.”

His head turned on its beefy neck as Gelfrat felt the tickle of Angelika’s
dagger tip on it. He threw Benno to the floor. He turned to her and laughed,
moving away. “You can try it, strumpet. But I say for certain, there’s no chance
of your getting that all the way in. Not on the first try, which is all you’d
get.”

“How about a deal?” Angelika proposed. “Let the three of us leave, and you
can have your brother all to yourself.”

“Half-brother.”

“What say you?”

“I say I’ll kill all four of you.”

She cut open his leg, above the knee. She skirted back. He drew an oversized
sabre and hacked down at Benno, who rolled out of the way and onto his feet.

Renald pulled a knife and rushed at Lukas. Franziskus stepped into his path
and the two went sprawling onto the floor, where the oil burned.

Gelfrat clanged his sword into Benno’s, knocking him into Nino. Nino moved
his hand from his bloody cheek to punch Benno in the kidney. Benno elbowed him
in the face, enlarging his wound. Blood spattered the wall.

Lukas took his chance and ran with uncertain balance for the open doorway.
Nino navigated wide of Benno to pursue the prisoner. He slammed himself into his
quarry, pinning Lukas against the wall of the curving stairwell.

Angelika ran for the doorway. Gelfrat, widening his stance, obstructed her.
She crouched with her knife. He feinted at her, then turned to parry an incoming
blow from Benno’s sabre. The two Kopfs grunted and pushed their swords together.
Angelika couldn’t get past them.

Lukas butted his forehead into Nino’s cheek. Nino shoved him back, but
twisted his ankle on the steps. Lukas ran up the stairs.

“You idiot!” Angelika groaned. “Don’t run
up
!” Then Lukas was gone.

Renald rolled on top of Franziskus. His helmet teetered off and clunked onto
the floor. Franziskus butted him in the head, stunning him long enough to flip
him onto his side.