"Are you sure they came here, Will?" asked Steve.
I nodded.
"Look for a way out of here. A secret passage... " he replied and went to the fireplace and moved items on the mantle. Nadine went to the desk and rummaged through it.
I stood with my back to the fireplace and felt panic simmer. I had no idea what to do. I was about to suggest we check out nearby rooms when a figure burst into the room through the open door. He came to a halt and looked wide-eyed at us.
“Will? Nadine? Steve?”
“Martin!” I exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
“I came with James and Heather, surely you know that?”
Nadine laughed and ran up and embraced him. “Martin, you are looking well.”
“Ah, thank you, dear Nadine. The travels have been good. James and Heather are down by the docks looking for transport. I felt the pain and rushed here.”
I looked at Nadine for a moment. “How is it you are here when so many are unconscious?”
Martin shrugged. “I felt the pain, but not nearly as bad as everyone else. It was a mere headache for me. The whole city is out. People and horses have collapsed where they stood. Heather and Steve were hit hard, but they were alive. God urged me to head here. Said I needed to be here. So, I left them and here I am.”
“Why here in this room?”
Martin struggled with the front of his tunic and pulled out a wooden amulet and held it before him. It looked identical to the amulet Brent carried. On one side was the symbol of the draoi. On the other was the symbol of the Church. The Church symbol glowed softly. Martin's face was full of wonder when he spoke. “This showed me the way and led me here. Like I said, God led me here.”
My mind reeled. There were too many coincidences happening again. I was about to speak when I heard Steve cry out in triumph behind me. I turned and saw him push something on the side of the fireplace mantle. We all felt the change in air pressure and looked at each other.
Steve moved to the large tapestry on the wall and pulled it back revealing a dark opening. “Through here I think.”
Twenty
Munsten Harbour, Hours Earlier, April 902 A.C.
BRENT BAIRSTOW LEAPT from the deck of the fishing vessel and landed nimbly on the floating wharf. In a moment Hugh Tibert landed beside him. They looked around in the semi-darkness of the early morning for any movement. The wharf was quiet, and no one was about. Tibert made a soft noise and soon twenty members of the Special Operations Squad stood on the wharf, dressed in black and ready for action.
Brent turned to Tibert just as Mary joined them. “So much better when the Sect is not making me seasick. That was quite the pleasant trip.”
Tibert shook his head. “Shut yer cake hole, Lieutenant. No voices. Follow.”
Tibert moved quickly down the dock with the SOS following behind. They stayed to the darker areas and moved silently. Brent admired their skill. He had been temporarily demoted to Lieutenant while serving in the SOS, the only concession Tibert had insisted on if Brent was coming with them.
“I won’t have some General changing my orders in the field. These are my people. I lead them. I won’t have any confusion about that,” he had said and walked away without waiting for confirmation.
That had been two weeks ago. They had grabbed a fishing boat and sailed up the coastline to arrive in Munsten harbour in the dark of early morning. Dawn was hours away. Brent was to be their guide into the castle. He knew Munsten better than most people and knew the only way in undetected. Colonel Sibbald at first had refused to let him go. It was Admiral Kingsmill who gave in and admitted it made sense for Brent to join them. After that, it was only a matter of time and now Brent found himself back in Munsten, dressed in black, and sneaking into the capital city of Belkin to assassinate the President.
Brent followed behind the SOS. He could barely keep his eyes on them. They were experts at this and Brent felt safe with them. In his earlier days in the Army, before he joined the Guard, he had done poorly on covert operations and training. And now he was leading the SOS deep into enemy territory. Well, Hugh Tibert was leading them. He smirked and wished his old captain could see him now.
In moments they cleared the fishing docks and moved up to the base of the stairs leading up the side of the Munsten city outer limits. The climb was long and there was a good chance they would encounter guards on the way up. Without words, the SOS started up the stairs. Tibert stayed back with Brent and they were the last to move. They said nothing and soon Brent could only concentrate on his breathing and the next step. His legs burned with the effort of climbing the flights of stairs.
He came to the first body and almost cried out. He stopped to stare, but Tibert grabbed him from behind and shoved him along and past. Brent blinked. He almost said something to Tibert before realising he truly was the lieutenant now. He stood amongst experts and the best he could achieve was anonymity. He focused on the steps and willed himself not to trip or look the fool.
He stepped over six bodies on the way up. Only three were military. The others had merely been at the wrong place at the wrong time. Brent understood and swallowed the anger that rose up inside him. These are citizens of Belkin. They deserve better than this. He kept his thoughts to himself and kept climbing.
At the top, they paused for breath. A breath Brent didn’t notice anyone else requiring but himself. In a moment they hurried on toward the castle. Brent had outlined the best route to take. Guard members eager to get back to the castle unnoticed favoured a series of back alleys that interconnected and kept them from patrols and unwanted eyes.
After a time, they hurried along a path that led to a trail leading up past rocks and ledges under the outside wall of Munsten castle. Brent moved to the front and led the way and he moved as quietly as he could along the familiar trail. Under the last ledge he was hoisted up and in moments he stood beside the massive stone slabs making up the castle wall and was pulling the iron ring that opened a hidden door. As rehearsed, he stood back and watched the SOS move past him in single file. A small part of Brent felt the traitor. I’ve let them in the back door and deep into the heart of Munsten. If I was the enemy this here would be the single act of treachery that would get me hanged.
Brent shrugged off the thoughts and entered the tunnel and pulled the door closed behind him. He squeezed through the narrow tunnel and remembered the passage being easier when drunk. He emerged on the other side and fell in behind the SOS members. They moved without error to the lower guard quarters. The lower ranked Guard members lived in these quarters before they were allowed to live in the city. They would be found sleeping here and needed to be dealt with.
Brent had argued saving their lives and merely capturing them and tying them up. Mary and Tibert had disagreed. Brent found himself the only one pleading for the lives of the Guard members. He was outnumbered and his vote as a lieutenant didn’t count. He couldn’t bear to witness the act and remained outside the door to the quarters. He heard nothing. In moments the SOS was moving again, and Brent felt a part of him destroyed. That many Guard shouldn’t have died that quickly or that silently. Their deaths are at my feet. This is my fault.
They crossed a narrow courtyard and up a small flight of stone stairs that ended at a latched back door. It opened onto a narrow stairway that led directly up to Healy’s inner chambers. Few knew of the way. It was a very well-kept secret. Most people who stumbled on it thought it a servant entrance and they weren’t wrong. The entrance led to the Guard station outside Healy’s chambers. Brent waited and watched as the door was pulled open and the SOS poured in and up the stairs. It would all be over soon. The alarm should sound. Brent didn’t expect the SOS to be able to take out the alert guards outside Healy’s chambers. He had trained the old Guard. But this isn’t the old Guard, he said to himself. They were all killed or gaoled by General Gillespie. Focus on that. This isn’t your Guard anymore.
In moments, he saw Tibert poke his head out of the door an
d look around for him. When he spied him he beckoned him over. Brent moved up.
“Right, General Bairstow, sir. We're clear. Figured you’d want to be there at the end. The Guard is eliminated. Follow me, sir."
Brent blinked. He had expected an alarm and heard nothing. And now I’m a General again it seems. He stepped through the doorway and made his way up the familiar stairs until he reached the small chamber located just outside the Outer Chambers. Torches were lit and tea was heating on a small stove in the corner. It was all so familiar. Except for the body of the guard slumped back in his chair. Brent could see where a dagger had struck him in the throat and then dragged out to the side. Brent was no stranger to war and its effects but seeing the man in his chair killed the way he was struck him as unfair. We’re killing our own people.
He moved past into the Outer Chamber. He drew his sword for the first time and held it to the side. He walked in and noticed right away that before when he walked here his boots had rung off the stone. Today the familiar sound was absent in his special boots. He missed it and felt the wrongness of all of this. I ordered it. This is all on me. I will go down in history as the general who stole the kingdom in the dark of night.
Guards lay in their blood on the floor exactly where they would have stood on guard. They had been taken by surprise and the last expression on their faces confirmed it. Brent hoped they had felt nothing. Or shame.
He stopped before the large double doors and stared at them. Tibert and Mary stopped behind him on either side. This ends the war and saves thousands of lives. This is the easiest way. God, please forgive me.
Brent nodded, and the SOS opened the doors and pushed them open. The doors swung inward revealing the receiving chamber. Brent walked in and turned to the right where he knew Healy slept. He heard the SOS move in behind him. They will finish this if I don’t, but I don’t mean to fail.
He hesitated at the bedroom door and looked back at Tibert. He looked grim and nodded stiffly at Brent. Mary looked bored and Brent looked at the door jamb. He twisted the doorknob and watched the door swing open before him. The crack widening inch by inch until it stood wide open. Inside he heard the loud snoring of President John Healy coming from the large bed on the far side.
Brent walked in and drew a dagger. He came up beside the bed and looked down at the man who had caused so much grief and death in the realm. This man was a tyrant. He would kill and kill again for gold and power. He was an abomination.
Brent moved quickly and drove the dagger into John Healy’s temple. The snoring stopped. He let go of the dagger and left it in. He turned and looked back at the doorway and stepped forward and away from Healy. Tibert stood there and nodded approvingly. Mary stepped past him and moved beside Healy. Brent watched as she grasped the dagger and jiggled it a little.
She looked up at Brent. “Just to be sure,” she said and walked back out.
Tibert waited a moment and looked around the room. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Brent nodded. “Yes, it’s the best way. Thank you for not telling the others.”
“It was supposed to be an in-and-out mission, remember?”
“Yes, well. We need to make a change. I fear if we leave now nothing changes. It’s not enough to just cut off the head of the snake. You need to defang it as well. Miller is that fang. And a means to an end.”
“I’ll be with you. Mary too. If we have to fight our way out, we’ll have your back.” Tibert turned to leave and then stopped and turned back. “You did a courageous thing there, sir. Not many could do that. You saved countless lives. Remember that when you doubt yourself later.”
“Thank you. Major. We should go.”
General Ben Miller woke with the hard, sharp edge of a knife pressed against his neck and the blood froze in his veins. One moment he was asleep and the next he was wide awake and waiting for the stroke. When it didn’t happen, he knew whoever held the knife wanted something or he would already be dead. He opened his eyes and glanced to the side and looked right at General Brent Bairstow.
“Brent.”
“Ben. You’re looking well.”
“What do you want?”
“First, I’m going to remove this knife. Then you are going to sit up, get dressed and have a conversation with me.”
“A bit early, don’t you think? Could this not have waited until after breakfast?”
“‘Fraid not. The daggers under your pillows and the ones in your nightstands have been removed. I’m not alone. There are two others here who want nothing more than to kill you right here and now. Best you get up quietly and have a listen to what I have to say."
Miller froze for a moment and ran through his options and quickly came to all but one: follow along. He nodded and felt the knife leave his neck. He slowly got out of bed and saw a short but stocky man and a shorter and equally stocky woman standing beside him. They had long daggers in hand and each carried a throwing dagger in the other. He nodded to them and waited until Brent moved out of the way a little before standing up.
“This is Major Tibert and Staff Sergeant Mary Eastman.”
“Charmed, I’m sure. I’ll be but a moment.”
The stocky man named Tibert nodded. “That’s fine, sir. But we’ll stay right here if you don’t mind.”
Ben mocked a smile and got himself dressed. Brent stood to the side looking a little sad. Ben kept looking over at him. “What’s happened?” he asked.
The corner of Brent’s mouth turned up for a moment. “Healy is dead.”
Ben paused doing up the buttons of his tunic for a moment before resuming the task. “That right?”
“Yes, by my own hand.”
“That makes you a traitor and a murderer, Brent. I’ll see you hanged.”
Brent looked a little sadder to Ben. “Perhaps. But not today. Are you done dressing? Good. Come with me into your receiving room.” Brent walked away and out of the bedroom. The man and the woman moved to the side and beckoned with their daggers for Ben to follow Brent and so he did.
He came into the room and spotted a pot of tea and two cups laid out on the small table before his twin couches. He frowned a little at the teapot. He didn’t own one. Brent saw where he was looking and answered the unspoken question. “From the guard room, behind the Outer Chamber.”
Ben raised his eyebrows.
“And before you ask, yes, they are all dead. The only guards still alive are the ones living in Munsten. Sit. We have much to talk about.”
Ben growled. “You killed them? You bastard.”
Brent sighed. “It was the only way, now sit.”
Ben remained standing. “You have some nerve. You’re a murderer! You’re… oomph!”
Hugh Tibert had punched Ben hard in the stomach and when he bent over, he pushed him down onto the sofa and stepped back. Ben moaned and held his stomach and lay on his side on the seat cushion.
Mary looked appraisingly at Hugh. “Why so hard?”
“He was pissing me off. All high and mighty. I hate evil pricks like him. Can’t see just what’s wrong with themselves.”
They waited in silence until Ben recovered and managed to roll to an upright sitting position. His face was bright red with effort and he was having trouble breathing. Brent reached out and grabbed the teapot and filled two cups. He took one and sat back and took a sip.
“Major Tibert hit you right below the ribs in the centre of mass. It takes your breath away. You’ll be fine. The tea is starting to get cold. Do you want a cup now? I’ll warn you, it’s strong. It’s been steeped too long.”
When Ben didn’t answer, Brent continued. “So General Miller. You’re an ass and you sided with one. Well, a dead ass now. And you know he was. He stole from the Realm for decades. You knew he did and you let him. You did nothing. You had reports of unrest throughout the land, and you did nothing." Brent rose to his feet and threw his cup on the table. Tea splashed everywhere. Brent towered over Ben. "You knew Healy was corrupt. But where were you
r morals? Your ethics? You watched as my brother was hauled away and killed. The members of the guards, loyal only to their duty, hauled away and buried in shallow graves. Their families now bereft of support. You had a duty to do something, and yet YOU DID NOTHING!” Brent lashed out and back-handed Miller across the face. Brent looked startled and stepped back. He glanced at Tibert and Mary and saw them smiling. Miller wiped at his face and looked at his hand covered with blood.
“You broke my nose!”
Mary snorted. “No, he didn’t, you baby. It is bleeding though. Quite a bit.”
“This is no way to treat someone like me!”
Brent laughed causing Miller to scowl. “A traitor to the Realm? A man who knowingly abetted a criminal? A man who let an enemy force into our country? Stuff it, Ben. You’re all sorts of guilty here so stop trying to throw it on me. You and Gillespie had all the loyal guards killed or gaoled. The men in the guard now are all in bed with you. But enough of that. I am offering you a choice.”
Ben wiped at his nose and looked at the fresh blood. He looked for something to wipe his hand with and settled for a doily on the table. He lifted it and wiped at his hand and then held the material to his nose. “And what choice is that?”
“Live or die.”
“How cliché.”
“I suppose it is. You fail to give me what I demand, and I drive a dagger into your temple much like I did to Healy. You give me what I want, and you live. You have my word.”
“Live? In gaol? Rotting my life away?”
“No, you will be moved out of Munsten to a remote town or village. You will be given a small pension. Enough for you to be comfortable.”
“Why would I believe you?”
Brent growled and in a moment, he had Miller held by the front of his tunic. He pulled Miller up to his face. “Because I have morals, you bastard. My word is my bond. You doubt that for even one second and I kill you here and now. Then I start working my way down your ranks until I finally get someone with common sense. Yes or no. Answer.”
Freamhaigh Page 27