The Red Knight (34 page)

“Hello there!” she shouted over to them. “Tell me, d’you know why there are so many people on the road? Is anything amiss that a group of travellers ought to know about?”

The woman cast a glance at the man before coming over. “I’m surprised you don’t know.” She wiped her hands on her apron and eyed them suspiciously.

Alyda smiled and waited for the rest of the tale. When she’d made them wait long enough, the woman continued.

“Bunch o’ mercenaries been lurking hereabouts. Up t’no good, waylayin’ travellers, they say.”

“Mercenaries? Any idea who they were?”

“No, and we’re not hangin’ around t’find out in case they come back now that the knights have gone back to the Arth. I’d head north if I was you. We heard the knights ran ‘em off south, down past Galegallen, towards Kellimarsh.”

“Did the knights engage the mercenaries?”

The man came over and put his arm around the woman’s shoulder. “Don’t think so, ‘leastways, not that we’ve heard. The knights came out o’ the Arth an’ chased the mercenaries south. We’ve come from Redburn, we were on our way to Keeling Delve, but I think we’ll be straight back home if there’s wrong ‘uns about.”

Alyda nodded. “Aye, I think you’ve got the right idea.”

The woman unfastened her apron. “Some folk are headed to the Arth, but I think that’s a bit over-blown. My advice is: don’t go south if you can help it. Keep yourselves clear o’ the trouble.”

If only.
“Thanks for the advice,” said Alyda.

Weariness gave way to relief when they reached the edge of the forest and were greeted by the lights of Gallen Arth shining out of the darkness. The ancient keep was surrounded by a moat that had been excavated by humans on three sides, and carved by nature on the fourth. The mighty Galerun River flowed protectively around its rocky base.

Alyda told the others to wait while she approached the outer gatehouse, the first of the Arth’s formidable defences. The moment her horse’s hooves touched stone, torches flared into life, and a handful of guards appeared from the shadows and levelled crossbows.

“Who goes there?” Came the challenge from the darkness.

This is going to surprise them.
Alyda cleared her throat. “Her Majesty, Queen Thea, Princes Talin and Olin, and Captain Stenna of the First.” The guards kept their bows trained on her; their caution was reassuring given that mercenaries were roaming the area. The one who’d issued the challenge stepped from the shadows. “What’s the watchword?”

“Black Griffin,” she answered.

The guard put up his weapon.

Once inside, the Queen and Prince Olin were quickly whisked away by Lady Vorsten and her servants. Alyda and Talin were escorted to the Riverside Hall by what looked to be most of the Hammer, who had flocked to the gate as soon as word got out who had arrived. Alyda learned from a dozen hurried conversations on the way to the hall that the Hammer had reached the Arth safely and had helped the Black Lancers chase off the mercenaries. Had they gone the other way, the tale might have been different. She thanked her stars that she’d trusted her instincts on that one.

Mugs of spiced beer appeared and promptly vanished while they waited in the Great Hall for the Captain of the 4th to arrive. Alyda was tired but she had to brief Cassian before she slept. Talin had already fallen into a chair by the fire and was well on his way after a mug of beer.

She would have liked nothing more than to curl up beside him, but she stayed on her feet and well away from the seductive warmth of the fire. Even standing, she must have started to drift off and found herself jerked to sudden wakefulness when the hall doors burst open and Cassian marched in, followed by Kieran, Nev and a relieved-looking Jamie.

“Ali! I’ve just been speaking to the Queen. She said Corvinius has turned traitor, what’s going on?” The Captain of the Black Lancers halted abruptly when he recognised the man sitting by his fire and snapped a salute. “Forgive me, Highness, I didn’t recognise you.”

“That’s perfectly understandable, Captain Vorsten. I barely recognise myself. Captain Stenna, if you would be so kind as to brief Captain Vorsten…” Talin slurred.

“Certainly, Highness.” She clasped Cassian’s proffered hand. “It’s good to see you, Cass, but the news isn’t good.”

After she’d briefed Cassian and their officers, Kieran explained what had happened after they’d parted ways at the bridge.

“Aye, Captain, they’d found a nice little place to set their ambush. It would have been a tough old fight if we’d taken the main road. Although, ‘tis a shame they didn’t stick around. They must have legged it as soon as they got wind that two companies of knights were out looking for them.”

“Any idea where they went?” Alyda asked.

Cassian toed a log back into the fire. “South, somewhere. I’ve sent scouts out to search, and to offer the shelter of the Arth to the locals in case they come back. I was going to hunt them down, but after what you’ve told us, I think it best if we secure our position here.”

“Aye.” She stifled a yawn. The warmth was working on her, fogging her senses. She was just about drained of all but the most basic ability to function and remain awake. She knew they were still in trouble, but her fatigue-deadened senses felt nothing even close to alarm. Cassian on the other hand, was a study in concern.

Ali Stenna refused to rest until she’d gone over everything with him and the senior knights. Cassian was impressed by the calm, unemotional way she related the ghastly details of what had happened. She was so like Trease in that respect.

He was most dismayed to find out that the blood on her clothes was that of their fellow Knight Captain. A day earlier he would have challenged anyone to a duel for even hinting that a Captain of the Guards, even a rake like Corvinius, could betray their oath.

Whatever happened, the stain on their honour wouldn’t easily be removed after this.

When his unexpected visitors were settled, Cassian returned to his own quarters to find Beria pacing, anxious to find out what was going on.

“So that’s why the mercenaries came; they were after the Hammer. Oh, Cass, why did Alyda have to bring the Queen here?” Beria twisted a curl of dark hair around her finger.

“Asha’s sake, Beri. Sometimes your inner voice forgets its place, my love.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t pretend I’m happy about this, even if ‘tis treason to say so. Ali Stenna has brought danger to our door. I know you don’t want to hear me speak like this, but I can’t be anything other than honest with you. I really wish she hadn’t brought them here.” She sighed. “I know that makes me a terrible, selfish person, but I can’t help it. When it comes to you and Tomas, I am.”

He was dismayed by her bluntness, but couldn’t be angry with her, not when he looked at her sincere, beautiful face. He pulled her to him and held her.

“Everything’s going to be alright. We’re safer here than anywhere in Antia.”

She looked up at him, her dark eyes shining with tears. “Do you think it makes me a traitor to think like this? Am I a wicked person?”

Cassian kissed her. “Gods, no! It makes you a fierce, protective mother, and a devoted lover and I can’t fault you for either. But don’t forget: I’ve sworn an oath to serve the King and protect the kingdom—with my life if necessary. My oath to
you
is that I’ll never let any harm come to you or Tomas…” He smiled to reassure her, even though he felt the brush of cold wings against his heart. “…and that I’ll love you forever.”

Beria rested her head against his shoulder. “I knew you were a bloody knight when I married you. It was exciting then, but ever since Tomas was born I’ve been terrified that I’m going to lose you both. I told myself I was stupid, that it was a foolish notion, but I can’t help seeing danger lurking in every shadow. They get so bad sometimes, these dark thoughts, this terrible overwhelming fear. I just want to scream or bang my head against a wall. Anything to stop thinking these dreadful thoughts…” She started to cry.

I am such a blind bastard.
How could he have failed to see that she was in pain? “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to think I was insane or worse; that I was weak. I wanted to be strong like you… only I’m not, and I hate myself for it. Dear gods, how I loathe myself sometimes, but I can’t lie—I would damn a hundred kings and a thousand kingdoms if it meant you never had to fulfil your oath.”

Chapter Eleven

T
here wasn’t a deep enough pit in the Void for that worthless piece of shit Corvinius to hide in. Thorgulsen fumed silently while his hirths and Telvier’s dogs tore Weyhithe Castle apart searching for the Queen and her sons and the bastard who had betrayed him.

Thorgulsen executed the knights who hadn’t the sense to flee. Their bodies were piled in the castle’s bailey; those who they hadn’t strung up on the battlements by their guts as an example of what happened when you crossed a Guthlander. The screams of those yet to die rose above the flames that were hungrily devouring the castle, but not even the ferocious blaze could match the intensity of Thorgulsen’s anger.

Telvier pranced out of the smoke ahead of two of his mercenaries. They were dragging a steelskin between them. They dropped the battered knight at his feet.

“We found this wretch hiding in a garderobe.” Telvier dug the toe of his boot into the knight’s side, eliciting a pitiful groan.

“What’s your name, Steelskin?” Thorgulsen commanded.

“Frannel, s…sir,” she stammered and dared a glance at Thorgulsen through her blood-matted hair.

“D’you see your friends up there, Frannel?” Thorgulsen gestured to the disembowelled bodies hanging from the battlements.

The trembling knight whimpered. There was suddenly a strong smell of piss. “I’ll take that as a yes. If you can’t tell me what that whoreson Corvinius has done with the Queen and her sons you will join them. Do you know this?” Thorgulsen felt nothing but contempt for the Ant, lying there in her own water.

“My Lord, I…I don’t think Captain Corvinius betrayed you.” One of the mercenaries lazily kicked the knight in the gut. “Please, I beg you, for the love of Asha, hear me out!” she squealed.

Thorgulsen raised his hand to stay the beating.

“I…I found the guards dead in the Queen’s apartment and… Captain Stenna was gone. I think she got the Queen out and freed the prisoners in the dungeon.”

Even though the knight was a snivelling coward, she was the first person to tell Thorgulsen anything even vaguely interesting since he’d got here. She’d also mentioned the cunt who’d dislocated his knee and damn-near broke his jaw. If there was a chance to meet up with the Captain of the Hammer and repay the compliment, he was interested.

He grabbed the woman by her ragged surcoat and dragged her to her knees. “Where would Stenna take them, Steelskin? Would she take them to Trelanlith?”

“No, sir, I don’t think so, not Trelanlith. Captain Corvinius sent the Hammer t…to Gallen, b…but it was a trap. Only she didn’t know that—she’d go there. ‘Tis less than three days’ ride from here. That’s where she will have gone. I’d stake my life on it.”

Thorgulsen smiled humourlessly. “Funny you should say that.” He turned to Telvier. “Has
he
arrived yet?”

Telvier opened his mouth but his words were lost when at that moment, it sounded like all the bells of the city rang out at once. It was painfully loud, but from behind him came a voice that was perfectly audible over the din.

“You called, I came. The question you should be asking is: how much will my services cost you?”

Thorgulsen dropped the Steelskin and spun on his heel, axe in hand, ready to strike. When he saw what was behind him he took an involuntary step back.

Floating about two feet above the ground was the ghostly form of the sorcerer. Grey robes swirled around a whip-thin body, stirred by an unearthly breeze no one else could feel. A heavy cowl was drawn low, obscuring its face. The damn thing was an illusion, but even the ghost of the sorcerer was enough to set the Ward off.

“I will not enter this thrice-damned place. We will conduct our business elsewhere, but first, tell me what you want, barbarian?”

“I want you to bring me the Queen of Antia and her sons. They’re probably within another Arth, or soon will be. Can your power reach them through a Ward?” Thorgulsen’s flesh crawled, and the hair on the back of his neck bristled, but he wouldn’t show fear in front of his hirths or Telvier.

The sorcerer gave a dry, rasping laugh. “You doubt my power? You were right, Luca. This one is amusing…and stupid. You should have asked for the King’s head. Alas, it is too late now.”

Thorgulsen shot Telvier a dark look. The Suvian shrugged innocently.

“I should turn you inside-out and let the dogs feast on your innards for your insolence, but never let it be said that the Obsidian Prince is needlessly cruel to dumb beasts. I can reach the wench and her get, even if she was within the Ice Halls of Tamalan. To perform this… insignificant deed, I will need a human spine and five, fresh human hearts. In addition, I require a chest of gold, the weight of…a Guthani Thane.
You
in fact. Not an ounce more or less, or we’re back to the turning you inside-out and feeding you to dogs scenario. I include you in that, Luca Telvier. Do you agree to my terms?”