Knight's Dawn (14 page)

Chapter Thirteen

On arrival back at the main Carthagan pavilions, outside the walls of Queen Vandas castle, Soldier was given a heros welcome. The warlords and generals there were not concerned about his blind, barbaric and brutal killing of the Dog-warrior, Vau. Any vivid discriptions on the subject they put down to exaggeration and embellishment, knowing that battle-heat fired imaginations. They took the colonels report into account, of course, but so far as the generals were concerned, the single-combat slaying had been necessary and had resulted in the battle turning to favour the red pavilions. Soldier was presented with a new breastplate bearing the embossed crest of a lieutenant over the heart. He was also given a sword, a straight-bladed weapon with an elaborate hand guard. This was an ancient sword, recently refurbished by one of the armourers of the red pavilions, an artist in weapons. This blade has been fashioned from sixty bundles of iron rods, he was told by the Carthagan weaponsmith. Each of those rods has a different carbon content, to give it flexibility as well as strength and sharpness. You must treat your sword like a brother or sister, give it a name. It is a work of art. This particular blade belonged to the captain of the Bear Pavilion, who died just two weeks ago. Soldier appreciated the worth of a flexible blade. He had watched the beast-people straightening bent and twisted bronze swords after the battle. He had seen the ordinary iron swords of the Carthagan warriors, shattered and broken by impacting against shield and armour. Only a blade made with bundles of iron rods with different carbon contents could withstand the clashing and hammering a sharp-edged sword would receive in battle. Soldier held it up so that the light caught and flashed along the honed edge. Sharp. Very sharp. He made one or two strokes in the air with it. It was a well-balanced weapon. This warrior from the Bears, he knew his swords, said Soldier. I shall call it Xanandra. The weaponsmith frowned. Isnt your wifes name Princess Layana? Soldier stared at the artisan. A thoughtful warrior never names his sword after his beloved. This blade will go into the entrails of some foul beast or hated enemy. Do you think I want to use my wifes name on an instrument for gutting those I fear and despise? I see your point. No, Soldier said, swishing the blade through the air, if you want a sword to be special, you name it after a goddess. Youre lucky this weapons available at this time, said the weaponsmith. Its owner wouldnt have given it up willingly. What happened to the captain? The weaponsmith grinned. Went for a crap in the middle of the night without his sword. While he was squatting he came arse to face with a monster. It was a giant snake, who swallowed him whole. He didnt even try to run, not with his leathers down and being his size. He was not good at running, that one. A rather ignoble end for an officer of the pavilions. They found the snake and killed it of course. It couldnt go anywhere with the Bear captain inside it. Too late then, though, for him. He must have been either old or overweight, not to attempt escape? Fat as a pig, said the armourer with another wide grin. You couldnt squeeze him into a barn. Armed with his new sword and carrying the head of Vau, Soldier went towards the city. Unfortunately the sword would not fit into his old scabbard, so he wore Kutrama on his right side, still empty, and the new sword in its own sheath on his left side. He was aware how ridiculous this looked, to be carrying an empty scabbard as well as a full one, but he cared nothing for the curious looks of passersby. As he strode along a black bird suddenly landed on his shoulder, making him start. Where dyou think youre going, Soldier? Oh, its you, raven. To see my wife of course. The raven clucked in disapproval. Shell throw you out. You know youre only married in name. She doesnt give a Hannacks bald pate for you. Dont make a fool of yourself. Is that why you joined the army, to impress her? Soldier said, I dont have to listen to you. He tried to brush the bird from his shoulder, but the raven simply jumped over his hand and landed back on his moving perch again. Ha! Struck a chord, did I? No, replied Soldier, smarting underneath. Look, why dont you give all this up? Leave this ungrateful army and embrace freedom. They dont like you anyway. Youll never fit in. Youll always be an outsider and resented, no matter how many Vaus you kill in single combat. You and me, why, we could live the life of a royal bastard if we went out into the wilds. Wed want for nothing. You could kill things and eat them, and I could scavenge on the remains. You could have the nice joint and I could pick out the eyes. Go away. Im making sense, arent I? said the raven, fluttering its wings as it fought to stay on his shoulder. Thats why youre so angry, isnt it? You know Im right. Soldier stopped dead. He said very slowly and deliberately, If you dont get off my shoulder, I swear Ill bite off your head and spit it into the moat. Touchy! muttered the bird, but at last it flew away, up into the turrets and cupolas of the city. Soldier heaved a huge sigh of relief and entered the city gateway. The guards at the gate saluted him smartly as he went in. This gave Soldier childish satisfaction. A short while ago they would have stopped him, poked fun at him (then in his iron collar), asked him to authenticate his right to be out alone, and generally given him a bad time. Now they saw a man in a lieutenants armour, came smartly to attention and ordered arms. Soldier had to go through the market-place in order to reach the Palace of Wildflowers, his destination. He deliberately made a detour in order to pass by a certain stall. Spagg was there, touting for business with that gin-ravaged throat he owned, his cracked and husky voice carrying over the heads of the crowd. Hanged mens hands! Hands-of-Glory! Good for all sorts of spells and witchcraft. Once youve had your use out of em you can feed your familiars on the rotten flesh. Youre an ugly old liar, Spagg - thats why the gods gave you all those warts. The market trader whirled, a righteous look on his face, but when he saw who was speaking to him, he went white. Soldier? Youre youre an officer? An officer indeed. Spagg managed a smile, his knotty head going down inside his pointed shoulders. Good to see you, friend. Im always glad when one of my apprentices does well for hisself. Officer, eh? Must be because I put in a word for you, with that imperial guardsman, whats-is-name, Captain Kaff. I seem to remember you asked for first dibs on my eyes when they were going to execute me. The smile weakened. Well, what dyou expect theyre remarkable eyes. I could get a good bit for them if they was pickled in white vinegar wine. I can see em standin on the mantel of some noblemans house . . . Can you now? There was menace in Soldiers voice. You could have stood surety for me and saved my life. I ought to cut your head off now. People in this market-place would stand around and cheer if I did. Spagg had gone pale again. Now, now, Soldier dont get too hasty. Look, look what happened afterwards. If Idve stood surety, you wouldnt have met the lovely princess -well, lovely except for her, he touched his cheek, you know, the marks and what not. Look, he repeated in desperation, why dont you take a set of these magic hands for free. Any pair. Your choice. Just to show theres no hard feelings. Soldier wagged finger in the market traders face. Spagg, he said, youd better be my friend in future. Dont make the same mistake again, because I always land on my feet. You understand me? Yes, yes, of course, Soldier. Were pals, we are. Best of comrades. I wont let you down again, you see. Soldier nodded and went on his way, astonished by the simmering fury inside him. What appalled him was he had been serious about cutting off Spaggs head. Once he had calmed down again, Soldier was once more ashamed that he had almost lost control. He was appalled by the unfathomable depths of wrath he found inside his own soul. It would have been unforgivable to have killed Spagg, yet he had been a hairs breadth away from drawing his sword. Spagg had sensed that and knew that he had barely escaped death. On his way down the wide tree-lined avenue to the Palace of Wildflowers, Soldier suddenly came face-to-face with Captain Kaff. Soldier instantly forgot his promise to himself, saying in barely-disguised vexation, Have you just been to see my wife? Captain Kaff was accompanied by several astonished imperial guard officers, who looked first at Kaff, then at this upstart Carthagan lieutenant who dared to address one of their number in such arrogant tones. What if I have? snarled Kaff. Whats it to you? She wont even want to see you. Well see about that. In the meantime, perhaps you would care to meet me at dawn tomorrow outside the walls of the castle, accompanied by two brother officers, your seconds. Kaffs head went back and something resembling a smile came to his features. Youre challenging me? To a duel? Thats the general idea. Forget it. And what are you doing in the uniform of an officer? Impersonating a lieutenant, even in the inferior Carthagan army, is a capital offence. I earned my promotion. From slave to lieutenant? I dont think so. One of the other officers snatched the flour sack out of Soldiers hand. Lets see what hes got in here ho! the head of a dog? Whats this, slave? Packed lunch? The mans friends laughed at this and crowded in on Soldier. Wait, said one, thats not just a dogs head. Thats the head of a beast-warrior. Look at the eyes! What did you do, slave, sneak up behind him while he was asleep? I fought him in single combat. A cavalry lieutenant said, A likely tale. Admit it. You found him drugged on toadthtoolth and decapitated him hacked through hith neck while he wath unconthiouth, unable to defend himthelf. If you werent so stupid, Soldier said, you lisping fool, youd notice that the cut is clean. The smile went from the cavalry officers face. Thtupid? Ill thow you how thtupid I am. He drew his sabre and slapped Soldier on the face with the flat of the blade. Nonetheless the blow brought a thin line of blood down Soldiers cheek. Soldier said, evenly, Youll regret that ... but now others had grabbed his arms and held him fast. Kaff had backed away and was watching from a distance, saying nothing. One of the other officers said, I think we ought to teach this slave a lesson. What do you say to crucifixion? We could nail him to that tree over there. Kaff spoke up quickly from the background. Not in view of the palace. Take him down a side alley. There were murmurs of agreement and they dragged Soldier along the avenue and down a cobbled alley. Kaff slipped away during this abduction and was not present for the short trial which followed in the shadows of a hovel. Here the officers were unable to find a suitable place to crucify him, but there was a wagon parked in the street, full of rotting vegetables. They tied him to the wheel of this vehicle, ripped his tunic from his back, and then the cavalry officer gave him thirty-five lashes with his whip. They drew blood, laying open the flesh to the bone. Soldier began silently enough, but after a time he couldnt prevent the groans from passing his lips and this delighted his tormentors. They left him hanging from the wheel, the head of Vau tied around his neck. None of the citizens who passed him by would even look in his face, let alone set him loose. They were afraid. If someone had done this monstrous thing, they must have been people who did not fear reprisals. It was better not to become involved, to leave well enough alone, to mind ones own business and hurry on by. He was there an hour or more, just hanging from the wheel. Even the wagonmaster came back and then left again when he saw what was decorating his cart. Better not to have seen and return when the decoration had been taken down. People in the houses round about closed their shutters and peeked through holes in the woodwork. Eventually, the raven found him. What a mess! Soldier was hanging from the wheel by his strapped elbows. Blood was running down his arms and dripping onto the cobbled street. His mouth was flecked with foam and bleeding where he had bitten his tongue. His clothes were soaked with sweat and hung from his body. He was indeed a mess. Never mind the crowing, gasped Soldier, barely able to remain conscious, if you cant undo these knots with your beak, go and get a Carthagan warrior named Velion a woman - get her to me. Did I hear the magic word? asked the raven. Damn you, bird this is not the time. Well, it doesnt take very much more effort to say please, now does it? I think I can manage those knots. If I can undo locks I can certainly undo bits of rawhide. The bird went to work and had him free within a few minutes. Soldier staggered away from the wheel, removing the flour sack with the head in it as he went. There was a public fountain and drinking water not far from the wagon. He went to this and washed himself, splashing the cold water over his head, shoulders and back, swilling away the blood. After a while he began to feel a little better. He pulled his tunic back on, covering the cuts on his shoulders and back. A good, long drink and he felt able to walk again, without reeling or falling over. Thank you, raven. Youre welcome, said the bird, hopping onto the fountain and taking a drink himself. I take it you had a visit from friends? A friend of my wife. She keeps bad company. Yes, she does, doesnt she. Soldier once again made his way towards the Palace of Wildflowers. He reached the gardens which surrounded the palace and rested on a camomile seat there, allowing the fragrance of the crushed herb to waft over him and revive his strength. A guard approached him and questioned him, asking him for identification. Soldier said who he was, and told the guard that a man-servant called Ofao could vouch for him. The guard went away and later Soldier felt he was being observed from a window in the palace. The guard returned and indicated that Soldier should follow him into the palace. Its the princess I wish to see, said Soldier. Im her husband. The guard said nothing in reply, taking Soldier to a courtyard, where he left him. Soldier looked about him. The courtyard was quite beautiful. There was a fountain in the middle guarded by four stone lions with a pool at their feet. The pillars and walls surrounding the courtyard were scrolled with writings in a language Soldier did not know. The stonework was grey, pink and pale blue, the colours of a winter sunset, and there were tall windows at the far end which overlooked gardens of stately cypress trees and tear-shaped yews. Apart from the sound of the running water and the cooing of doves, it was a peaceful spot. You look very weary. Her voice came to him as if