The Invisible Hands - Part 1: Gambit (43 page)

36
Obyann, Rahendo and Ryhunzo had stayed behind at Landemere

Castle to see their friend off.

On the inner court about hundred men of the Landemere Cavalry were preparing to accompany their duke. Two standard bearers were carrying flags with Arranulf’s arms, the golden sun in splendor on a field of azure, and the arms of the new duchy of Orissa. Hemarchidas thought it all nonsense, but caving in to Arranulf’s persistent urging, finally went with Anaxantis’s suggestion, a horse’s head erased on a field of vert.

Wagons laden with tents and all kinds of necessities were already gathered outside, waiting to form the train under the ministrations of a small army of servants. Dukes traveled in style.

When Hemarchidas entered the courtyard, Obyann went up to him.

“Hemarchidas,” he said, without the least introduction, “it’s time you put an end to this, one way or the other, and this trip of yours is the ideal opportunity to do so.”

36
The Cheridonian looked at him, eyebrows raised, while putting on

his riding gloves.

“Whatever are you talking about?” he asked.

“I’m sure I don’t know, and, just so you know, I don’t want to know either, but what I do know is that knowing you is hurting my friend.

You’re leading the poor fellow on, and it has to stop.”

“Ha. And how would that be any of your business?”

“That would be my business because he is my friend, and I don’t like it when he’s walking around all unhappy and moping. It ruins my appetite. It distracts me from my duty to keep an eye on the little perverts, and the Gods know they need watching. You have no idea. Just making them keep their clothes on is a full time job. Anyway, I like Landemere to be happy in his usual dim-witted way, smiling stupidly.

That’s when he gives me the least trouble.”

“So, just for your personal convenience, you expect me to enter into some kind of a relationship with Arranulf? I can’t believe you’re even suggesting—”

Obyann stamped his foot.

“That’s not what I’m saying, is it? Just decide. I have not the slightest idea what your kind sees in each other, or how you conduct your sordid affairs, and — did I mention this before? — I don’t want to. Just decide. If you’re going to, eh, get on with whatever you guys get on with, then get on with it. If not, make a clean break of it. Tell him it will never work. Tell him that he’s ugly and that he stinks. Except he’s rather clean. He takes baths. And he’s not ugly. I know. I saw. And everything you could ever need is in perfect working order. Saw that too. Totally by a deplorable misfortune, I assure you.”

He shuddered.

36
“Anyway. If you don’t like him, eh, that way, tell him so. Crush his

hopes beyond recovery. It will be easier for him in the long run. Don’t worry, his real friends will pick up the pieces. Then we’ll throw another nice looking deviant in his path. Maybe that one will appreciate the fact that he’s fallen with his ass in the butter, as we say in Ramaldah.”

Hemarchidas looked dumbfounded at him.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” he mumbled, still overcome by Obyann’s outburst.

“Look, Arranulf is a nice guy. Too nice. He’s loyal. He’s courageous.

He’s friendly. And stupid and a moron and an ass and naive. But mainly friendly. You could do worse.”

“It’s not as simple as all that, Obyann.”

“Don’t give me that. Use some of that Cheridonian horse sense, will you? Or are you still pining after Anaxantis? Well, forget it. It will never happen. He likes his half brother.”

Obyann shivered again.

“I swear I’ll never understand to what lengths you people will go to get your jollies. But you are trying to watch the cat out of the tree, as we say in Ramaldah — not that Anaxantis is a cat. You could be there for a very long time. Forever and three days, in fact. Anaxantis sees you as a friend, a good friend, a very good friend, but nothing else.

What’s more, he will never see you as anything else. How can you not see that?”

Hemarchidas had become white as a sheet.

“You don’t know… Anaxantis and Ehandar. How? How would you know?”

“Because the Gods in their infinite wisdom chose to give me two eyes and a brain, that’s how. Have you seen them look at each other?

It’s the same way the curly pervert looks at the sulky one, but different.

36
In fact it is nothing like it, but it’s the same. Everybody can see that.

Meanwhile you’re unhappy, and what’s worse, you’re making Landemere unhappy.”

Obyann took a deep breath to continue his rant, but at that moment the subject of their conversation appeared on the courtyard. Arranulf was dressed in a short, ocher-colored tunic bordered with dark fur, with his escutcheon embroidered upon his chest. He wore matching pants beneath it and high boots made out of light brown leather, equally fur trimmed. His broad belt and his gloves were made out of the same material. His dark brown mantle billowed behind him. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and his right eye seemed to glow a bit more intensely. His medium short hair moved with every bouncing step he took. He halted, turned around, looked up, and waved at the window from behind which his gran and Sir Threnn were waving back at him.

Rahendo and Ryhunzo ran up to him, and soon he was engulfed in waves of maroon.

“Nulfie, promise me you will be careful and stay close to Hemarchidas,” Rahendo said. “He’s strong.”

“Yeah, Nulf, old boy, the Enchantingly Transcendent Melody to my Life’s Lackluster Lyrics and Obyann will miss you like nobody’s business. Don’t stay away too long,” Ryhunzo added.

“And always keep a pair of clean, dry socks handy,” Rahendo said.

“Alanda says no young nobleman should make a journey of more than two days without them. Fresh, warm socks are the best to make you feel all snuggly again when you’re homesick.”

Arranulf laughed out loud.

“Got them, Rahendo. And you guys, don’t make Obyann’s life a misery, will you? Once in every while do as he tells you. It makes him happy.”

36
“Talking behind my back again, Landemere?” an approaching voice

asked.

“I’m afraid so, big boy. I was telling these fine youngsters here that you are in charge.”

“Yes, indeed I am and they’d better remember it. And you, try not to be an asshole. It reflects badly on all of us. I know it’s against all your natural instincts, but just try. At the least sign of danger let the big Cheridonian handle things. That’s why he’s there.”

“Yes, Nulfie, Obie is right,” Rahendo concurred. “Alanda always says it’s time enough to flaunt your bravery when you’re inside the castle with the bridge drawn up.”

“Got it. I’ll bring presents back for all of you.”

“Never mind the presents, Nulf my man, just bring yourself back,”

Ryhunzo said while he tried to blow a curl out of his face.

“For once I have to agree with them,” Obyann grumbled. “Will wonders never cease?”

“Oh, you do care.” Arranulf smiled.

“No, I don’t, as you very well know. In fact, I’ll be enjoying the peace and quiet when you’re gone.”

“I’m rather partial to soft, velvety things in shades of red,” Rahendo said pensively. “Small objects, slightly made out of gold will do as well.”

Obyann took Arranulf by the shoulder and guided him a few steps away from the others to have a quiet word.

“So you’re going to have the man to yourself for weeks on end,” he said. “Make good use of this opportunity.”

“What do you mean?” Arranulf asked.

36
“Oh, come on Landemere, you’ve had the hots for Hemarchidas for

as long as we've known each other. Just… just do what your kind does.”

“I don’t think I understand—”

“Yes, you do. You’ve got to say something, Landemere. Stop pussy— footing around the bush. Grab the bull by the horns. Not that Hemarchidas is a bull.”

“But I should grab his horn? It seems rather desperate, doesn’t it?”

Obyann became light red in the face.

“I never said anything of the kind, you pervert. Besides, you are indeed desperate and you know it. You’ve got to, ah, declare your intentions, is what I meant. Maybe give him a taste of what is on offer.

What the peasant doesn’t know, he doesn’t eat, as we say in Ramaldah.”

Arranulf looked at him with unbelief in his eyes.

“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting? What if he doesn’t like what is on offer?”

Obyann saw Eynurm who had just arrived in the courtyard and beckoned for him to come over. With a few words he filled him in.

“Listen Landemere,” he continued, “either way you’ll know. It’s better to know than to slowly waste away.”

“As you probably realize, I’m not a great expert on relationships, but I think Obyann is right,” Eynurm agreed.

“I wouldn’t worry too much. For one, Anaxantis will be out of the picture, and for another, a child’s hand is easily filled, as we say in Ramaldah.”

“What?” Arranulf said.

37
“He means, the early bird catches the worm with his pants down,”

Eynurm explained.

“Exactly,” Obyann confirmed, crossing his arms.

“What?” Arranulf said.

Gorth had decided that the best way to gain the information he wanted was to just ask for it.

Once it became known in the capital that the first troops had arrived, he rode eastward to Prista, the hamlet that gave the nearby military camp its name. After about eight miles there was a fork in the road, one way leading to the little settlement, the other to the camp.

Camp Prista was originally meant as a temporary stronghold, dating from the time of Reggulland I the Mender, four hundred years ago.

It was built upon the War Meadows, where his father and predecessor, Herruwold III the Bold used to collect his armies for his extended conquests, leaving his son with the unthankful job of consolidating them.

A task his successor fulfilled with a great amount of diplomacy, backed 37
up by even greater military force. As he was wont to say, “Keep your

tongue sweet and your sword sharp.”

The fortification was clearly visible from a great distance. It lay in a broad valley into which Gorth had yet to descend. Camp Prista was built on a square, man high, bulwark made out of enormous stones, hewn out of rock. The superstructure was made out of hardwood. The whole was more intended to impress than to actually serve as a fort, and both the western and the eastern gates were always open. Gorth could clearly see that it was occupied, but it wasn’t exactly bustling with activity.

Gorth was disappointed by its size. He had thought it much larger than it actually was. Outside the western gate stood some buildings that looked military in origin, but yet seemed built for comfort more than for protection. Another sign that Herruwold had never expected to have to confront an enemy there. At some distance, on both sides of the road were several buildings that were definitely civilian. Taverns, guest houses, and shops, where the soldiers could spend their wages.

Gorth suspected that some provided services of a more intimate nature as well.

He had taken care to put on his finest clothes and to carry his sword in a prominently visible way. This was one of the rare occasions he wanted his rank to be immediately evident. He rode his horse at the walk up to the fort, and dismounted at the last building before the western gate.

At the gatehouse he asked the guard to speak to whomever was in charge. The soldier looked at him suspiciously at first, but the natural self-assurance of the young noble won the day, and he led Gorth deeper into the building until they came at a closed door. The soldier knocked, bade the visitor to wait in the hallway, and entered.

When he came back he was accompanied by his captain, who invited Gorth inside his workroom.

37
“How can I be of service to Your Lordship?” the captain asked,

without offering his guest a drink, though on a corner of the table stood a tin platter with a pitcher and several beakers.

“It seems I’m one of the first to arrive,” Gorth said.

“One of the first, Your Lordship? Are there others coming?”

“I expect so, Captain.” Gorth smiled knowingly. “As soon as I heard, I came. You see, I’m a younger son and though I could have an easy life on what will soon be the demesne of my oldest brother, I prefer making my own fortune. Make a name for myself, and show them what I’m capable of. I suspect you’ll be needing officers.”