Death and Honor: Book 1 of 2 (5 page)

BOOK: Death and Honor: Book 1 of 2
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“I’ll tell father what you did.”

Xander laughed even harder. When he got himself under control he said. “You do that. Run back and tell your father you started a fight with someone half your size and couldn’t even lay a hand on him. I’m sure he’ll be impressed.”

Morgrin turned and ran, wailing, into the woods. Xander sighed. He hadn’t had that much fun in months.

“Happy now?” Gabriel asked.

“You better believe it.” Xander walked back to his spot and sat down.

“You know that boy could cause a lot of trouble for our family when he grows up and inherits Uncle Duncan’s lordship.”

“How do you figure that?”

“He could strip father of his knighthood out of spite for you humiliating him.”

Xander shook his head. “Don’t you read any of the books mother tells us to? He can’t strip Father of his title.”

“What do you mean? Uncle Duncan gave him the title. What would stop Morgrin from taking it away?”

Xander flicked his line out again. “Uncle Duncan didn’t grant Father his title; only the king can do that. The lesser nobles can make a recommendation, that’s all. Uncle Duncan recommended Father for the title and the king approved. At worst Morgrin could recommend the king strip Father of his knighthood and he’d never do that.”

“Why not?”

Xander helped himself to an apple from the basket off goodies. “Don’t you remember any history?”

Gabriel crossed his arms. “I can’t keep all that stuff straight, Xander, you know that.”

“Well if you could you’d know that only one knighthood has ever been revoked and the knight in question led an army on Crown City to overthrow the sitting king. Now, unless you imagine Father leading a military coup, I think he’s safe enough from a turd like Morgrin.”

“We’d better go after him anyway. If he got hurt Father would be furious.”

“I’m not going after him,” Xander ate a bite of his apple. “Let him wonder around the woods for a while. The gods know he could use the exercise. Maybe we’ll get lucky and a bear will eat him.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

“Fine, stay here. I’m going after him.”

“Suit yourself. I’ll see you at dinner.”

Xander watched Gabriel take off after Morgrin. It was amazing how messed up some people’s priorities were. He finished his apple and tossed the core into the woods.

G
abriel left
his brother at the pond and took off after Morgrin at a brisk trot. That he would catch up to the boy wasn’t in question, Morgrin was in too poor a shape to get far ahead of him. The problem was he had no idea what he would say when he caught up to him.

The path connecting the pond and the estate was well worn after years of almost constant use so if Morgrin stayed on it he shouldn’t have any trouble getting back. He’d shadow the boy and make sure he didn’t run into any trouble then he’d wait for Xander at the edge of the forest. They could go in together.

A little ways ahead a crash echoed through the woods followed by muffled cursing. He sped up and came across Morgrin lying flat on his face, a spiked creeper vine wrapped around his leg. Gabriel shook his head. Just as well Xander didn’t come along. He’d laugh and there’d be another fight.

“Are you okay?”

Morgrin rolled over and yelped when the thorns dug into his leg.

“Hold still and I’ll cut you lose.” Gabriel drew his short hunting knife.

Morgrin froze, for once doing as he was told. Gabriel gripped the vine between the inch long spikes and sawed through it. He unwound the vine from Morgrin’s leg, careful not to push the thorns in any deeper.

“There you are.” Gabriel got to his feet.

Morgrin got up. “Did you come to laugh at me?”

“No, I wanted to make sure you made it back safe.”

Morgrin snorted and started back down the path. “I’ll see to it your brother pays for humiliating me.”

“Couldn’t you let it go? No one got hurt after all.”

“No, once I tell father how your brother abused me he’ll insist Xander at least receive a beating.”

Gabriel tried another tactic. “Won’t it look bad if you say you got beaten up by my little brother?”

“I’ll say he attacked me from behind. Who do you think Father will believe, me, or your brother? It will be so delicious when he gets back and finds everyone waiting to punish him”

Gabriel shook his head again. It was going to be an ugly night for certain.

T
he sun hung
low in the sky when Xander pulled his line from the pond for the final time. He’d caught six fat trout. Not a bad day’s work, if you could call lounging by the pond all day work. A quick look around revealed entirely too much equipment to carry back on his own. The shovel would have to stay.

He opened the lunch basket and found a strip of jerky and a roll. Xander tucked them into his belt pouch. He’d catch hell when he got home, probably get sent to bed without supper. He patted the pouch. A wise general plans ahead, or so the books on military strategy lining the walls in the library said.

The shovel he stuck behind a big spruce before gathering up the rest of the gear and starting for home. The walk back wasn’t near as pleasant loaded down as he was but he had to balance the load with Morgrin’s absence. Xander almost laughed again when he remembered the look on Morgrin’s face when he got up.

Xander reached the shed and put away everything but the snack basket and his catch then turned toward the main house. Father stood waiting on the front steps. Xander recognized the look on his face, time to pay the piper.

“Evening Father.”

“Xander, we need to talk.”

Xander swallowed. “Of course.”

He followed his father into the great room. A fire burned in the fireplace. One of the servants waited in the corner, Xander gave her his fish and the empty basket. Uncle Duncan and Morgrin sat on the couch near the fire. Gabriel leaned against the far wall. There was no sign of Mother and Aunt Jolie.

“Xander,” Father said. “Morgrin has accused you of attacking him from behind and insulting his honor. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Xander frowned. So the snot lied to everyone, no surprise there. “I never laid a hand on him. He attacked me and I tripped him in self-defense.”

“Liar!” Morgrin screamed.

A slow, evil smile spread across Xander’s face. “It seems there’s only one way to settle this. I challenge you to a duel. The winner’s words will be judged the truth in the eyes of the gods.”

Morgrin sneered. “I don’t have to answer a challenge from the likes of you.”

“Wrong,” Duncan said. “As the son of a knight Xander is of sufficient rank to challenge you. Of course you’re just boys so live blade is out of the question.”

“We have padded training blades,” Gabriel said.

“If you’re willing to admit you lied I’ll withdraw my challenge.” Xander said.

Morgrin looked around, desperate for an escape. Xander understood now why mother and Aunt Jolie weren’t here, no doubt the ladies wouldn’t approve of a fight. He watched Morgrin squirm. Xander knew he could beat him, Morgrin knew it too, the only question was if he would admit he lied now or after Xander beat him into the ground.

“Well, boy, what’s it to be?” Uncle Duncan asked.

Morgrin looked at Xander who cracked his knuckles and grinned. Morgrin paled. “I withdraw my accusation.”

“What?” Uncle Duncan said. “You’re admitting you lied to me? Speak up boy.”

“Yes, I lied.” Morgrin looked thoroughly miserable. Xander couldn’t have been more pleased.

Duncan nodded. “I thought as much. Get out of my sight. I’ll decide your punishment when we get home.”

Father put his hand Xander’s shoulder and he tensed, and then looked up. When he saw the smile he relaxed. “Gabriel told us what happened. Lord St. Jaques knew Morgrin had a habit of lying his way out of trouble.”

“So this was a test? For him or me?”

“For both of you. You passed, Morgrin didn’t.”

Chapter 4

L
ord St. Jaques
left the estate right after breakfast. Jeremiah would follow as soon as he could, prisoners in tow. He hated leaving again so soon after getting back, but duty didn’t allow for his personal preferences.

Before he left Lord St. Jaques made it clear that Jeremiah was to do whatever he deemed necessary to get to the bottom of the attack. He considered it a personal insult to have a caravan raided a few miles from his country estate.

Jeremiah stood up from behind the small desk in his study. He couldn’t put it off any longer. He had to say goodbye again and get the prisoners ready to march. It took half a day to reach the city so they should arrive well before dark despite the late start.

He entered the great room and started toward the stairs. Before he took a step up Alexandra appeared and hurried down to him. “I’ve figured out the language, dear.”

Jeremiah beamed; perhaps he’d make some progress after all. “You’ve deciphered it?”

“Oh heavens no,” she said. “The language is Torin and no one has used it in over a thousand years. There’s nothing in the library from that era we can use to translate it.”

“Oh,” Jeremiah’s smile faded.

“Don’t fret, I know someone that can help. My father used to work with a sage named Alzado. I’m sure he can translate this for you in a wink. He lives in the city so you can drop in on him while you’re there.”

“You mean you’re not going to give me a hard time about heading out again so soon?”

Alexandra frowned. “No, something about this mess bothers me. Where did a bunch of thugs learn to read an ancient language? There are maybe one hundred people in the kingdom that can read Torin. Whoever hired them must be rich and powerful enough to hire one of them. The sooner you figure out what’s happening the better I’ll feel.”

“I’ll see to it.” He accepted the scroll case from her.

J
eremiah
and his men mustered in front of the barracks. He’d selected twenty men to escort the prisoners into the city. They’d loaded a wagon with all the merchandise they salvaged save the small chest. Burt sat on the bench, ready to drive it the final few miles to Lord’s Way.

Jeremiah smiled when he remembered Burt’s reaction to his suggestion he drive the wagon into the city. “Well, sir.” he’d said. “Seems only right I finish the job I started.” Indeed it was only right. It would also give Jeremiah a chance to talk to the drover about the woman that delivered the mysterious package to the caravan.

Alexandra appeared from the estate carrying a large basket. She reached inside and handed Jeremiah a ham and cheese sandwich. He leaned down and kissed her. She proceeded to hand out sandwiches to each of the men, including Burt, who ducked his and offered a shy smile.

The soldiers each accepted the treat with a smile and word of thanks. Jeremiah wasn’t certain when it happened, but Alexandra had adopted all the young men under his command, fussing over them when they were sick or hurt, scolding them like she did the boys, for their part the men doted on Alexandra like she was their own mother.

One of the bandits leered at her and before Jeremiah could speak one of his men punched the bandit in the face. “Mind your manners around the lady,” he said.

When everyone had enjoyed their lunch and Alexandra returned to the house Jeremiah said, “Let go.” He swung up into his saddle and they rode out.

About an hour into the trip Jeremiah eased his horse over beside Burt’s wagon. “How’s the team behaving?”

Burt grinned. “Damn sight better than that mule I started this trip with.”

Jeremiah smiled back. He had taken a liking to the drover, rough manners and all. “What can you tell me about the Tristar Merchant Company?”

“Nothin’. The caravan master hired me and the other lads on his own. I never met the owners.”

“What about the woman that brought the chest? Did you know her?”

“No, sir, never seen her before. Why do you ask?”

“I’ll need to talk to her about the attack at some point. Can you describe her?”

“No problem there, she was a looker, long red hair, tall, big…” he held his hands out in front of his chest.

Jeremiah cleared his throat. “I get the idea.”

“Something strange though.” Burt got a faraway look in his eye. “She seemed kind of out of sorts, if you know what I mean?”

“No,” Jeremiah said. “I’m not certain I do.”

“Well, it’s hard to explain. Her hair was messed up and her clothes looked worn, kind of like she been running around in the woods, that’s what I thought anyway. But what would a pretty gal like that be doing running around the woods like a mountain man?”

What indeed? He’d have to ask her.

E
ric paced in his office
. The master had contacted him wanting information and Eric had none to offer. He’d sent the messenger bird three days ago and still no word from Kane. The demon was getting impatient and that wasn’t good for Eric’s health. He could think of few things he wanted less than in impatient demon breathing down his neck.

A knock sounded on his door. “What?”

The desk sergeant poked his head in. “Lord Knight Jeremiah Kane is here with prisoners. Where should I put them?”

Kane was here? “See if you can make room for them in block C, I’ll be right there.”

“Yes, sir.”

It seemed Jeremiah had dealt with the demon’s mercenaries after all. Eric left his office and worked his way through the processing room. What had Jeremiah learned? Probably nothing, but how to go about finding out for sure without tipping him off? Jeremiah wasn’t stupid wasn’t

Eric spotted him chatting with one of the older lieutenants near the main entrance. “Jeremiah.” Eric waved to get his attention. The lieutenant took the hint excused himself. “It’s been a while since you visited the city.”

“About four months. I brought you a present.” he nodded toward the line of prisoners on the steps behind him.

“I sent you a message about a missing caravan a couple days ago. Did you get it? When I didn’t get a reply from you I got worried.”

“I received no message, but this lot is no doubt responsible for your missing caravan. I’ll return the recovered merchandise as soon as I’m done here.”

“No doubt they’ll be delighted to get it. You’re certain you didn’t get my message?”

Jeremiah’s hand went to the hilt of his sword. “I said no.”

“Of course.” Eric took a step back. Jeremiah was one of those hard asses that took the notion of personal honor way too serious. If you didn’t want chunks carved out of your body you didn’t question his honor. Fortunately it would never occur to him to lie so the message hadn’t arrived. The bird probably ended up in the belly of a hawk. “Herd them on in. We’ll find room.”

Jeremiah nodded and motion to his men. With the tips of their swords and some none to gentle shoves they forced the bandits up the steps and inside.

The sergeant Eric dispatched earlier returned. “We’ve made room, sir.”

“Excellent, fetch some custody transfer forms.” Eric turned back to Jeremiah. “This’ll only take a second. Are you staying in the city long?”

“A day, perhaps two.”

“I can recommend a good inn.” Where I can arrange to have an eye kept on you.

“No need, I’ll be staying at the lord’s mansion.”

Eric smiled. “I don’t know anywhere that nice.” the guardsman returned with the paperwork. “Here we go.”

Jeremiah read the paper then signed it. Eric signed right below him and completed the transfer.

“Good day,” Jeremiah turned on his heel and walked out, his men falling in behind him.

Eric waited until they’d gone down the street then he went outside and down the steps. Where was that damn pickpocket? There, outside the Drunken Donkey. Eric stalked over like he planned to run the kid off. The skinny little thief cringed as he was supposed to. Eric grabbed his collar and yanked him into the alley nearby.

“You saw the well dressed gentleman that just left?”

The thief’s beady black eyes darted left and right. “I saw him.”

“I want you to follow him. Everywhere he goes, everyone he talks to I want to hear about it. I’ll meet you tonight at the usual place.”

The thief held out a filthy hand. Eric’s lip curled, but he dropped a pair of gold royals into the thief’s hand. “I’ll watch him good.”

“You’d better unless you fancy losing that hand.”

J
eremiah left
Watch headquarters right after signing the release papers. Something about Ericsson rubbed him the wrong way. The man seemed too soft for the job he’d taken on. Jeremiah sighed as he walked down the steps. By all accounts Eric had done a serviceable job as Watch commander. Maybe he just had a different command style. Whatever it was Jeremiah was glad to leave the man behind.

“What now, sir?” Sergeant Michaels asked. The young man received his stripes three months ago and this was his first assignment with anything resembling real authority.

“Take the men to the mansion and get them bunks. Take my horse as well; I prefer to walk when I’m in the city. I’ll be along later.”

“Yes, sir.” The young man led the rest of the soldiers off toward the mansion. The best thing about new promotions, they seldom talked back.

“Just you and me now,” Burt said.

“Looks that way.” Jeremiah climbed up beside him on the wagon seat. “I don’t suppose you know the way to the warehouse?”

“Sorry, sir, never been there.”

A silver penny jogged the memory of a passing messenger boy and they were on their way. As they rattled their way through the streets of Lord’s Way Jeremiah thought back to his youth, first as a boy running messages for coppers like the boy that gave them directions then later as a Watchman chasing down criminals. Burt’s voice jolted him back to the present.

“I’m sorry, my mind wandered.”

“I say did you spend much time in the city?”

“Oh yes, I grew up here and I served in the Watch for ten years. My father had a blacksmith shop in the southern business district. How about you?”

“I pass through now and then, but never for long. Got me a little cottage on the outskirts of White Mountain, though I spend most of my time on the road.”

“There’s the warehouse.” Jeremiah pointed to a large building on the east side of the street, a circle with three stars inside engraved on the doors.

Burt guided the wagon alongside the double doors and Jeremiah climbed down. The warehouse buzzed with activity, four broad shouldered men unloaded a pair of wagons overseen by a set of identical twins.

“Excuse me,” Jeremiah said.

The twins looked up then hurried over. “Can we help you?” the left twin asked.

“Are you the owners of the Tristar Merchant Company?”

“Yes, sir. I’m Isak,” the right twin said.

“And I’m Isik,” the left twin said.

“What can we do for you?” they said together.

“I am Lord Knight Jeremiah Kane and I’m afraid I have bad news for you. Bandits attacked one of your caravans.”

“Oh, dear,” Isak said. “The people?”

“All dead, save one I’m afraid,” Jeremiah said. “We recovered most of your merchandise.”

“So the Knight Commander was right, bandit activity has increased,” Isik said.

“Eric mentioned bandits to you?”

“Yes, several days ago he stopped to ask if we had any caravans running late,” Isak said.

Jeremiah frowned. Eric said the merchants reported their caravan missing. Someone was lying to him, and he couldn’t imagine why the merchant would do so. He couldn’t imagine why Eric would either but he felt certain if anyone was lying it was Eric.

Jeremiah and the twins walked over to the wagon. “Gentlemen this is Burt, the sole survivor of your caravan. Thanks to his efforts we brought the bandits to justice.”

“Many thanks for your efforts, sir,” Isak said. “We would be happy to double you wage as a bonus.”

Burt nodded. “Much obliged.”

“I was hoping you would inventory the items we recovered. I’m curious to see if anything’s missing.”

“Certainly, Lord Knight,” Isak said. “We have a manifest in the office.”

Isik trotted back into the warehouse and a moment later Isak cocked his head and looked through the merchandise. Jeremiah and Burt shared a look.

After fifteen minutes Isak said, “Three bales of cloth and a bag of pipeweed are missing.”

“That’s all?”

“Yes, thanks to your diligence we still have an excellent chance to turn a profit on this trip. We must reward you.”

“Not necessary, I was doing my duty.”

“There must be something we can do to thank you,” Isak said.

“If you insist you can give any reward to the families of the victims.”

Isak nodded. “I’m not certain who we hired for that trip, but we’ll do our best find out.”

“I imagine Burt can help you with that.”

“Sure,” Burt said. “I knew all the drovers. Can’t say about the guards though.”

“That’s a good start,” Isak said.

They climbed down from the wagon and Burt held out his hand. “Been a pleasure, Lord Knight.”

Jeremiah shook his hand. “If you could drop the wagon off at the Lord’s mansion I’d appreciate it.”

“Sure,” Burt said. “You don’t suppose they’ll run me off if I try and leave a wagon there?”

Jeremiah dug a copper token out of his pocket. On one side was a lion and on the other his name. “Show them this at the gate and they’ll know I sent you. You shouldn’t have a problem. If there’s any trouble ask for Sergeant Michaels, he’ll vouch for you.”

He left the warehouse and walked down the street, his mind working to untangle the mess surrounding him. It was obvious the twins were ignorant of the small chest so the caravan master must have made a private arrangement with the mystery woman. There was no way around it, he’d have to track the woman down and see what she had to tell him.

The next problem was Eric. Assuming the twins hadn’t lied to him, and he could see no reason they would, then Eric lied about the circumstances surrounding his learning about the caravan. Jeremiah hated to think ill of a fellow knight, even one he didn’t like, but there was no way around it. The man’s actions stank to high heaven.

BOOK: Death and Honor: Book 1 of 2
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