Defender Of The Crown: Heir to the Crown: Book Seven

by Paul J Bennett

  "Let your champion choose that which is most familiar to him," said Anna, "though Beverly, I think, will use her sword.”

  "Blades it is then," said Hollis.

  "Clear away the food," the king ordered, "but leave the wine. We shall have splendid entertainment this day, and I would not have the view obstructed by this meal, delicious though it is."

  A few servants rushed forth, clearing plates while others carried a cloth from noble to noble, allowing them to wipe their hands and mouths.

  “Lady Aubrey will stand by with her magic,” said Anna.

  “Your warrior shall need it,” said Marley, as the Life Mage rose from her seat.

  "It is not Dame Beverly that will need it," said Anna, "but her opponent."

  "You seem awfully sure of her abilities," said Waverly.

  "As you seem to dismiss them so readily," countered the queen.

  "There’s no need to stand, Lady Aubrey,” said the king, “come and sit."

  "I will be able to attend to healing quicker on foot," said the mage. "Fighting can still be dangerous, even with a healer, and I take my duties very seriously."

  Anna caught Beverly's arm as she stood, drawing her close for a moment. "Make it as quick as you can, Beverly," she said.

  "Understood, Your Majesty," the knight replied.

  "Good thing she left her hammer in our quarters," whispered Gerald, "I'd hate to think what kind of damage that thing would do to the floor. Do you remember the tower at Redridge?"

  "I could hardly forget it," said Anna, "she managed to cave in the entire floor."

  The attention of those in the room was all on the red-headed knight as she began a warm-up, moving around the area, her sword in constant motion.

  "Impressive," said the king. "Tell me, are there many women knights in Merceria?"

  "There used to be a lot more," said Anna, "but the war saw an end to many of them."

  Gerald wanted to explain how they had been murdered by King Henry, but something held him back.

  "And Dame Beverly here," continued King Halfan, "you say her father is a baron?"

  "Of Bodden, yes," said Anna.

  "Are you sure the baron has no son?" the king said in surprise.

  "Yes," said Anna, "Beverly is his only child."

  "Did he not think to produce a son to inherit?"

  Gerald could see Anna biting back her words.

  "Beverly's mother died in childbirth," he quickly explained, "and the baron never remarried."

  "A fascinating tale," said the king. "She has certainly piqued my interest. How did she come to be a knight?"

  "She was knighted on the battlefield," said Gerald, "as a reward for saving King Andred's life."

  "Truly?" said King Halfan.

  "Yes, the king was swarmed by raiders," said Anna, wisely choosing to neglect to share that they were Norland raiders. "Beverly had to fight off the lot of them to keep him safe."

  "Remarkable."

  "Here comes Marik," announced Lord Hollis, as the door opened.

  The warrior that stepped through was impressive, armoured, head to foot, in chainmail, with a dark blue surcoat displaying the coat of arms of the Earl of Beaconsgate. The man was almost the same height as Beverly, but his broad shoulders hefted a one-handed battle axe with ease. In his other hand, he held a rounded shield, typical of the Norland people.

  "Place your bets, gentlemen," announced Hollis.

  Gerald looked on in disgust as the earls of Norland bet on the outcome of the fight. "I don't like this," he whispered. "Betting on a fight just doesn't seem right."

  "I agree," Anna replied quietly, "but it is not our way to change their culture."

  "Will you place a bet?" asked Hollis, looking at Gerald.

  "I think not," said Gerald.

  Hollis returned his attention once more to his fellow nobles as coins were tossed on the table. King Halfan watched, a slight look of irritation to his face.

  "The combat shall be to first blood only," he commanded.

  He waited as the nobles settled their bets then turned to the rest of the court, who had been watching with keen interest.

  "You may begin when ready," he announced.

  Marik stepped to the middle of the room, keeping his distance from Beverly as he swung his axe a few times, loosening up his muscles. Finished, he took a ready stance, his shield held before him.

  Beverly watched him with interest, holding her sword two-handed, the point towards her Norland opponent.

  Marik struck first, stepping forward and swinging his axe from right to left. Beverly easily dodged the blow then stabbed forward, hitting her opponent’s shield.

  Their audience reacted with cheers, urging them to continue the fight. Beverly stepped back, parrying a blow, then struck low at the Norlander’s legs, but Marik, in anticipation, brought his shield down, and the blade scraped along its surface.

  When the knight attacked again, swinging from left to right, Marik leaped backwards, the blade passing harmlessly before him. Just as it did, he struck out again, this time driving the head of his axe towards Beverly's face, forcing her back unexpectedly. She knew the axe was a slow weapon and so she moved to the left while watching his footwork, preparing herself to take advantage of his next attack.

  Her chance came soon enough when the Norlander stepped forward, thrusting out with his axe. This time, however, as she moved her sword to parry, he pushed forward with his shield, taking her off guard. It pressed against her sword, knocking it aside and then he was within reach, striking down with a solid hit to her leg. The axe's edge scraped across the metal thigh guard and angled downward, clanking as it struck the stone floor.

  Beverly drove forward, using her elbows to push him back. Marik staggered but kept his wits about him and planted his feet, sweeping the battle axe low in an attempt to trip her up. The weapon contacted again, the solid thunk echoing through the air as blade met metal armour.

  They were in close now, far too close for the reach of her sword and she was tempted to drop it in favour of her dagger, but the axeman needed space as much as her, and so she struck out with the hilt, hearing a grunt as it hit the Norlander's forearm.

  Marik pulled back, catching his breath. He shook his weapon arm, sore from Beverly's hit, then struck out once more, the axe coming down, impacting heavily with Beverly's sword. She felt the man's raw strength pushing down on her, and she bent her knees slightly, absorbing the blow, then quickly turned her sword, causing the axe to glance off and slide to the side. Seeing an opening, she jabbed straight out, striking the Norlander's hip, but once again, his chainmail did its job, and the blade slid off, failing to penetrate.

  The thrust had thrown her off balance, and this was precisely the moment Marik was waiting to take advantage of it. Somehow, he brought his weapon in close, and then Beverly felt the axe dig into her glove, pain lancing through her hand. Next, the Norlander hooked the cross guard of her sword with his axe, pulling it from her grasp as she sprawled forward. The man stood over her, his battle axe raised, ready to strike.

  "Enough!" roared the king.

  Marik paused as indecision wracked his face. He looked over at Lord Hollis, who shook his head, and then the champion backed up, lowering his axe.

  "You have fought well," said King Halfan, "there is no dishonour in being bettered by Lord Hollis's champion."

  Aubrey moved over to her cousin, who cradled her hand, blood flowing, her gauntlet cut and mangled by the blow.

  "Straighten your hand if you can," Aubrey said. "We must get this glove off of you before I cast my spell." She tugged the gauntlet gently, feeling resistance and then it came free, followed by a rush of blood.

  Beverly grimaced in pain as Aubrey examined the wound. "It looks clean," she said, then started uttering words of power. Those in the room fell silent as the mage's fingers began to glow and then she placed them onto Beverly's hand, the energy flowing through her and absorbing into the knight.

  "How does that fe
el?" Aubrey asked.

  "Much better," said Beverly, "though I'm now down one gauntlet."

  "It could have been much worse, cousin," said Aubrey. "You might have lost a finger, and that takes much longer to repair."

  Beverly rose to her feet, nodding at Marik.

  "I concede the fight," she said, "you have bested me."

  Marik grunted, though whether or not he returned the compliment was anyone's guess.

  King Halfan watched his nobles passing coins, then swivelled his gaze to Anna.

  "Your knight is an impressive fighter," he said, "but she cannot match the might of a Norland champion."

  Anna returned his stare. "Are all your champions so skilled?"

  "Marik is among our best," said the king, "though others have claimed that title from time to time, he always wins the games."

  "Games?" said Anna.

  "Our champions compete with their peers," added Hollis.

  "Against the champions of other earls?" asked Gerald.

  "Saxnor, no," he said, "that would incite a war. No, they compete within their own earldom."

  "When you say compete," said Gerald, "I assume you mean they train?"

  "No," said Lord Hollis, "they fight, sometimes to the death."

  "Don't you lose a lot of good fighters that way?"

  "We do," said Hollis, "but the winners emerge even more powerful. A man can only elevate his skills so far with training. There comes a time when only killing others will further his martial prowess. We call it the Blood Price." He turned to his champion. "Tell me, how many men have you killed in the games, Marik?"

  "Twenty-one, Lord," said the warrior.

  "There, you see?" said Hollis. "I have lost twenty-one warriors of my own to advance him to this level of ability. Can you say the same of yours?"

  "Lady Beverly has killed many in combat," said Gerald.

  Unexpectedly, Halfan grimaced slightly, and Gerald wondered if his words had upset him, but then the king rose slowly, as if in pain.

  "It is time for me to withdraw," he said. "I shall meet with you on the morrow, Queen Anna. Until then, you may stay and enjoy yourselves."

  Anna stood, as did Gerald, both bowing as the king made his withdrawal.

  After he left, she turned to Lord Hollis. "Tell me, Lord, is the king ill?"

  "No," said Hollis, "he suffers only from the ravages of time."

  "How old is the king?" she pressed.

  "This year marks his sixty-ninth year among us," said Hollis, "though I fear he will not see seventy."

  "Might I offer the services of my Life Mage?" she asked.

  The Earl of Beaconsgate paused for a moment, looking like he was considering it. "No," he said at last, "we must let nature take its course. Now, if you will excuse me, I have much to do, as do the other earls."

  "Of course," said Anna, "I shall leave you to your work."

  "It has been an honour, Your Majesty," said Hollis, bowing, "and I look forward to speaking with you in future."

  Sixteen

  The Capital

  Fall 964 MC

  * * *

  Harry Hathaway sat back, nursing his drink. The Serpent's Coil was packed, a not altogether unusual occurrence, but what set this day apart were the coins that were flowing freely. He looked across the room at Igran Hawtrey as the man made his way through the crowd, stopping at each table in turn.

  Hawtrey was a big man, topping off at more than six feet and known for being boisterous and crude, but today he was reserved, chatting with people in an amiable tone as he moved from table to table.

  He finally made his way to where Harry sat, pausing to look down at the confidence man.

  "Well, well, well, if it isn't old Handsome Harry."

  "Igran Hawtrey," said Harry, "it's been a long time."

  "What are you doing here, Harry?"

  "I heard a rumour you were hiring, and I thought I'd give it a try."

  "This is muscle work, Harry, not your typical thing."

  "Times are tough, and I need the coins."

  Igran stared at him, and Harry felt a nervous sweat building between his shoulder blades. He fought down the urge to flee and then finally, Igran nodded his head.

  "All right," said the big man, "I'll let you in on it. I've been hired to assemble a large group."

  "This isn't a break-in, then?" said Harry.

  Igran smiled, showing his yellowed teeth. "You're damned right," he said, "this is much bigger."

  "How much bigger?"

  Igran sat down, lowering his voice. "Listen, Harry, you're smarter than the rest of this crowd, so I'll give it to you straight, we're forming a mob."

  "You can't be serious," said Harry. "The last time a mob assembled, it didn't end well."

  "If you're talking about the riots back in '53," said Igran, "believe me, I know, I was there."

  "The army slaughtered us."

  "This is different," said Igran.

  "Different, how?"

  "Let's just say that my employer has made certain arrangements."

  "Your employer?"

  Hawtrey smiled, "Someone with lots of spare coins, but I can't say more."

  "And this mob is expected to fight?"

  "It wouldn't be much use otherwise. Look, I know this isn't your thing, Harry, but I need people that can take direction. A lot is riding on this."

  "Such as?" said Harry.

  "This will put the Hawtrey gang at the top of the food chain, and we'll remember who put us there."

  "How does your father feel about that?"

  "He's too old to participate," said Igran, "but he relishes the thought of uniting the gangs."

  "Uniting the gangs?" said Harry. "How many people have tried that over the years?"

  "Many," Igran replied, "but they didn't have the funds to back them up." He reached into his belt pouch, pulling forth a golden crown. "This is what it's all about, Harry, and there's plenty more where that came from." He dropped the coin onto the table, drawing Harry's attention.

  "So what's the deal?"

  "I need to assemble two large groups," said Igran. "One will act as a diversion while the other strikes."

  "Strikes at what?"

  "Never you mind. Are you in or out?"

  "I don't know, Igran," said Harry, "it sounds dangerous. Any sign of a mob and the soldiers will be sent in."

  Hawtrey grinned, "That's precisely what we want them to do."

  "People will die."

  "Not necessarily. The main purpose of the first group is to lure the troops in. Once that's done, they can disperse. No one need get hurt."

  "You're drawing them away from their barracks."

  "You're a smart man, Harry, but you should keep that to yourself. Now, are you in or not?"

  "I'm in."

  "Good, I need someone to draw off the guards. What do you say to leading the diversion? I can make it worth your while."

  Harry sat back, eyeing the man suspiciously. "What's in it for me?"

  In answer, Igran Hawtrey tossed two more coins onto the table. "Consider that a down payment. I'll double it when we've assembled everyone we need."

  "And when will that be?"

  "I have a few more stops to make," Igran continued, "but word should come down by the end of the week."

  "Very well," said Harry, "I'm your man."

  "Good. Keep an eye on this place. I'll pass the word when we've settled on a date."

  He got up to leave, leaving Harry to scoop up the coins.

  "Wait," said Harry, "how will you send word without alerting the watch?"

  "Keep your ears open," said Igran. "You'll hear of a special card game, here at the Serpent's Coil. That's the signal to assemble."

  "That's a lot of people to fit in here."

  "Don't be a fool, Harry. This is only one group, we don't want to raise any suspicion. We'll march down the street and pick up others along the way. Now take care, I'm counting on you."

  "I'll be there," said Harry.r />
  * * *

  "Are you sure of this?" asked Hayley as she paced.

  "As sure as I can be," said Nikki. "Harry tells me the Hawtrey gang is definitely being funded by a wealthy benefactor. Igran Hawtrey was spending quite freely."

  "That can't be good."

  "There's more," said Nikki. "There's to be two mobs. One to draw away soldiers and the other to strike."

  "Yes, but strike where?"

  "Harry said that Igran slipped up and said 'guards'."

  "What type of guards, I wonder?" said Hayley. "Do you think he wants to take a city gate?"

  "That seems unlikely," said Nikki. "They already have soldiers in their pockets, smuggling things in and out is relatively easy."

  "It is?" said Hayley. "That surprises me, I thought the gates were secure."

  "They are, at least against foreign attack," said Nikki, "but you know how it is, soldiers are woefully underpaid, and they're not averse to making a little on the side."

  "I suppose that's true," said Hayley. "So then, what is the object of this plot? The Palace?"

  "I can't see how they could attack here," said Nikki, "wouldn't the Royal Guards defeat them?"

  Hayley halted her pacing. "The Royal Guard is largely in the north with the queen."

  "How many are left here?" asked Nikki.

  "Fewer than a dozen," said Hayley.

  "That must be it," said Nikki. "They intend to attack the Palace!"

  "To what end?" said Hayley. "Surely they can't seize power?"

  "They could if they had troops on their side," said Nikki.

  "The Palace Guard is loyal to the queen."

  "What about the Knights of the Sword?"

  "Saxnor's beard," said Hayley, "I hadn't considered that possibility."

  "We know Shrewesdale had co-conspirators. Were they ever unmasked?"

  "No," said Hayley, "though we had our suspicions."

  "The Earl of Tewsbury was involved," said Nikki. "Couldn't you at least arrest the man?"

  "We know nothing of the sort," said Hayley, "and we have a system of laws in place. We don't just arrest people for no reason."

  "But he spoke out against Gerald," said Nikki, "or have you forgotten the court case so quickly?"