With a great effort Bain rose and faced his remaining men. “You have fought well today. We have prevailed. I am grateful to you all.” He turned to Reynce. “Captain will you see to the prisoners? I will question them after I have dealt with Freskus.” To his remaining three men he said, “See that the building is secure – all doors barred and windows shuttered. We remain here tonight.” He scanned the room and spotted movement behind a far table. “You. Come out.”
“P-please … mercy.” A scrawny girl of about twelve, crept into sight.
Bain noted the bruised face and the blood on her skirts. “Child you have nothing to fear from me – or my men.”
The girl stood hugging herself, shaking.
“Are you acquainted with the kitchen here?”
She gave a timid nod.
“We all require food. What can you feed us?”
When the girl merely shook more and wrung her hands he went to her, took her gently by an elbow and said, “Show me. I will not harm you.”
The girl led him wordlessly into the kitchen and watched him examine the meagre stores there.
“Do you know where the others are … the innkeeper, the cook? Can you find them?”
The girl hesitated at first then gave a small nod.
“Ask them to return. We will protect you all from Mathune’s men.”
After a long moment the girl gave a quick nod and hurried toward the back.
One of his men approached Bain as he returned to the main room. “The inn is as secure as we can make it, Milord. Captain Reynce has placed the prisoners upstairs in an empty room where they are guarded.”
“Good. Relieve Reynce upstairs.”
Bain and Reynce met in another of the inn’s rooms.
“So you knew we had not left you unguarded?” Reynce raised an eyebrow.
“I did. I depended on it.”
“Your skills grow, Milord, as does your leadership.”
“Yet I doubt myself. I was not born to lead.”
“May I speak frankly, Milord?”
“I expect nothing less, Captain.”
“I have not risen to this rank because I never doubted. Quite the contrary. It is my opinion that a man who never doubts is a man who makes decisions rashly. A man who never doubts is one who loses sight of the final goal, one who sees only one path and remains blind to other possibilities.” Reynce met Bain’s eyes squarely. “I see much of your father in you.”
Bain began to shake his head in disagreement but Reynce cut him off.
“Weakness comes only when an action needs to be taken and doubt interferes with it. I have not seen that in you today.” Reynce gave Bain a long look before continuing. “And a good leader cares for his men. Your compassion for Jessin will be remembered. It will earn you greater loyalty.”
“Thank you, Captain.” Bain sighed and squared his shoulders, knowing that he did not feel the resolve he attempted to show. “Now we have prisoners to question.”
“Yes. They were mostly poorly trained and poorly armed. I suspect not all were Mathune’s willing followers.”
Reynce agreed with Bain’s assessment that seven of the eleven prisoners had likely been forced into service. They protested they had either not fought in the melee or had backed off as soon as they saw that Bain had the upper hand. Some had already lost family members to Mathune’s thugs. Others were there under threat that harm would come to their wives or children if they did not obey.
“Let them go to spread the tale of what we have done here, and find a more secure cell for those four.”
Reynce agreed. “Perhaps it will give the people hope - and it may draw Mathune to us when he hears.”
The only exception was the one who called himself Captain Freskus. They had interrogated him in front of all the others. His show of bravado crumbled almost as soon as he believed he would be tortured. From him they learned that Mathune was, indeed, in Exalon, though he did not know where, as he moved about daily.
“Then we will make him come to us.” Bain motioned one of his men. “Find a rope suitable for hanging.”
Together Bain and Reynce placed the noose around Freskus’s neck and held him, struggling and begging for his life, in front an open upper window facing the street. The noise soon brought a small audience outside. Bain looked at Reynce, who nodded. It took both of them to shove the pleading man feet first over the sill. His scream was shut off by a sudden, strangled silence.
Bain stuck his head out of the window and addressed the watchers. With a gesture to the still twitching man dangling below he declared, “This is what awaits those who follow Mathune.”
To his guard he said, “Take these prisoners to the cellar.” The four who had come from Belthorn under Mathune’s orders were taken together to a storage cellar that had a lock. One soldier was posted as guard, as there was no other way out.
When only he and Reynce remained he sank onto a stool and buried his face in his hands.
Reynce remained silent a moment, then closed the door and sat on the bed. “It had to be done. And the day it becomes easy will be the day you are no longer fit to rule.”
Bain did not respond.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
SEEKING NURIAS
“Milady, I feel useless. I am well enough to return to my work. I gave Lord Bain my word.” Kort’s voice betrayed his frustration as he and Phaera broke fast together in a corner of the main dining hall. Phaera had met him there at his request. At this late hour all the others had eaten and gone. The last maid clearing tables respectfully avoided approaching theirs.
“I understand your desire to return to service. I have been giving thought to that. You are not yet recovered enough to travel as you did before. However I do have a mission for you here in Marston – something that I cannot undertake as I am confined to the castle.”
“And what is it, Milady?”
“I have heard nothing from Nurias since Lord Bain left. If, as you say, there are enemies in Marston, she will also be a target. Find her and convince her to come to the castle. Neither will be easy. Her work takes her from her home and she is loath to leave those who rely on her. And, with spies and enemies about she will take care to keep her locations as secret as possible, though not so secret that those who need her cannot find her.” Phaera paused, reluctant to say aloud what she was thinking. “Since we have had no news of her it is also possible she has already been taken or … killed. We - no I - need to know.”
“I will leave immediately, Milady.”
“Good.” Phaera handed him two scrolls. “Give this one to Velna, the cook, she will put together travel food for you – enough to last a good while. And this one is for Nurias. It is a request for any herbs and remedies she can spare to add to my supplies.”
Kort stood up, squaring his shoulders. “You may rely on me, Milady.”
“I know I can. But do not take undue risk. Nurias knows almost everyone near her home. If she needs to hide there are many who will assist her. Take care who you speak to. Trust no one.”
“I understand.”
They left the dining hall together. Kort had already turned toward the kitchen when Phaera’s voice halted him.
“And Kort…”
He stopped and looked back, noticing the concern on Phaera’s face. “Yes, Milady?”
“If she has been taken or killed we need to know. It is paramount that you return, with or without Nurias.”
“I will not fail you.”
After receiving his pack of food, warm clothing, new footwear, and some of Phaera’s willow bark powder with instructions on how to make the tea for himself, Kort went to the stables. There he received an unremarkable horse, a worn saddle, and saddlebags filled with assorted goods. To anyone watching he would be just another travelling peddler.
Nurias’s cottage could usually be reached within a half-day’s ride but Kort took a less direct route. A peddler would not be in a hurry. The slower pace allowed him to keep his eyes open. If peopl
e avoided him or entered their homes when he approached he would know that something made them fearful. He took care not to approach anyone until he neared where Nurias lived.
Dusk had already fallen before Kort spotted a youth chopping wood outside a mean cottage showing signs of neglect. He did not need to exaggerate his fatigue and knew his thinness would add credence to his ruse.
“Young man, I seek the healer hereabout. Do you know where I may find her? I have heard there is a fine one in this region.”
The youth lowered his axe and studied Kort for a long moment. “You are a stranger here. Why do you seek a healer?”
The suspicion in the youth’s voice warned Kort to take extra care. He lifted a sleeve up to one elbow and held his arm out. “I am in pain with these joints and have no remedy left. My travels do not allow me to seek help often.”
The youth came close and examined the swollen fingers and scrawny arm, finally nodding. “Perhaps Nurias can help.” He seemed to hesitate, as if he had said too much, then made up his mind. “I do not know where she is but ask the lady at the cottage over that hill, the one with flowers beside the door. She gave birth only days ago and may know more.”
“Thank you, young man.”
The lad gave him a curt nod. Kort sensed the long stare at his back before he heard the lad return to chopping wood.
By the time Kort rounded the hill and found the cottage full night had fallen. A male voice answered his knock but the door remained closed. “Who goes there?”
“A traveller in need of a healer.”
Kort waited while a muted conversation took place behind the door. Finally, it opened part way. A heavy-set man stood there holding a long kitchen knife. Kort waited in front of his horse, one hand loosely holding the reins, the other away from his body, to show he was not armed.
“Please. I have come a long way in search of the healer called Nurias. I am told she is the only one who may help me. I am cold and in much pain. If she is not here I beg shelter for the night for myself and my horse. I have food I can share with you and your family.”
A woman’s face peaked out from behind the man’s shoulder. “Kennat, let the man in. I cannot think he will harm poor peasants. He looks near death.” She pressed her husband’s knife arm down, nudged him out of her way, and opened the door wide. “Come in, sir, and welcome. Kennat will see to your horse.”
Kennat still looked wary but he stepped outside and took the reins from Kort’s hand. “There is good grass out back. I will hobble him there. We have no grain for him.”
“I am most grateful, sir. And to you, missus.” Kort reached into one pannier before Kennat could lead his horse away. He pulled out a corked crock and a flask before stepping into the warmth of the cottage. “I did think I would find shelter sooner but there is no inn nearby and the homes are far apart. I feared I would spend the night in the open again. A warm fire will greatly ease my pain.” He took out the wide cork and held the open crock toward the woman. “Only a poor stew of beans and pork fat but I am happy to share it with you.”
A small face peered out of the shadows, followed by the rest of a girl of about six years old holding a sleeping infant. “That smells good, Mamma.”
“Yes. Now put Rorin down and get out bowls and spoons for all of us. We have a guest.”
As the girl turned to obey, Kennat re-entered the cottage, closed the door firmly behind him, and barred it with a stout pole, an unusual precaution. The hearth provided the only light.
Kennat pulled a stool directly in front of Kort, sat on it, and studied him for a while with narrowed eyes. His knife lay within easy reach on the table. “Who are you and why are you here? I checked your panniers. You are no peddler.”
Kort took care not to move quickly. “Do you read, sir?”
As Kennat shook his head is wife spoke up. “I read - a little.”
“May I retrieve something from my pack?”
At Kennat’s slow nod Kort pulled out the scroll intended for Nurias. “This is for Nurias – written in Lady Phaera’s own hand. I seek Nurias with a message from Lady Phaera, and to give this to her. Nurias and I have met and she will remember me.” Kort handed the scroll to the woman.
She studied it, her mouth puzzling out the words in silence. Then she handed it to Kennat. “Tis a list of healing plants, I think.”
Kennat opened the scroll in a pretense of reading it, then handed it back to Kort. “What is the message?”
“That is for Nurias’ ears only.”
“Hmph.”
“Do you know where I may find her?”
After studying Kort again Kennat seemed to make up his mind. His shoulders relaxed. “She moves about. You, a stranger, will not find her. The people protect her.”
Kort felt a huge relief at Kennat’s declaration. “I am most happy she is safe, then. But, as you see, I must find her to deliver Lady Phaera’s message and to return with the supplies on that list. Can you help me?”
Kennat exchanged glances with his wife. “Perhaps … Mirin?”
Mirin went to the back of the cottage where baby Rorin lay and brought him to show Kort. “See, our son was born but three days ago. Nurias was the midwife. She promised to return in four days to see that he and I are well. We expect her tomorrow, or, if she is needed elsewhere, the day after.”
Kennat broke in. “You will remain here until then. I will not endanger her, or another, by telling you more.”
Kort could not believe his good luck. “I am most grateful to you both.”
In the morning Kort shared his remaining journey food, knowing he would not need to keep travelling in search of Nurias. “Honey cake - from the kitchens of the castle.” His grin widened when he saw the delight on Mirin’s face and her daughter’s eagerness as she scrambled over to look.
Nurias arrived well after dark. When Kort relayed Phaera’s request to come to the castle she shook her head. “Nay, I need to continue my work. I am not needed at the castle.” She took the list Phaera had sent. “I have many of these things but cannot collect the rest. I will send what I can spare with you.”
“Nurias, Lady Phaera says it is urgent that you come with me to the castle.”
Nurias only smiled. “I am safer and more useful here. And here I can keep my ears open. If I hear anything important I will see that the information reaches the castle.” She began to divide her remedies and pack them into Kort’s travel sac. “Take these to her. They are all I can spare. Tell her I am well. She will understand that I cannot leave my charges. Explain that the people here keep me safer than I would be at the castle.” She handed the half-full pouch to Kort before turning to Mirin.
“Now, Mirin, this man has need of a strengthening tea. Do you have boiling water?” She grabbed a cup and dropped a powder into it. She took the steaming kettle Mirin held out to her, poured, stirred, and handed it to Kort. “Drink this. I added more to the sac. Phaera will know what to do with it. It is better than mere willow bark.”
Kort did as he was told. He left, alone, at daybreak feeling more rested and stronger. While Nurias did not accompany him, he deemed his mission a success.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
THE BAIT
“It is a risky strategy, Milord.” Reynce eyed Bain.
“Yes, it is. Though I think you will agree that to do nothing only delays the inevitable. Mathune will hear of events here if he has not already. And we cannot defend this position long in any case. We have not the men.”
Reynce gave a reluctant nod. “It is the best plan, though I do not like that it places you directly in more danger. Yet, if it draws Mathune, it may give us the opportunity we need to defeat him and end this bloody conflict.”
“Good. Please accompany me while I inform the men.” Bain stood and tugged his tunic straight. “It is unfortunate I do not have a uniform.”
“Indeed. But the men know who you are.”
“Yes, but perhaps the people here do not.”
Reynce insisted th
at two soldiers open the door and stand guard, swords drawn. He also preceded Bain out, and stepped aside, ready to defend him.
Bain followed close behind and halted a step outside the doorway, feet planted firmly apart, tall and proud. The morning sun shone fully on him. Its glow, he knew, added to the impression of power. They waited, saying and doing nothing, until their presence drew the curious. When a small crowd had gathered close enough to hear him Bain took a step forward and swept one arm toward them.
“Good people. You have seen how we defeated your enemies in this inn. You have welcomed some of your men back home.” Bain pointed to the body of Freskus, still hanging out the window. “Here is their leader who has met his just end.”
As he spoke more people had come to listen. Bain paused a moment while his audience exchanged glances and low comments.
“Good people…” Bain’s voice took on a timbre that carried easily over those listening. “I am Bain, heir to lord Makin of Marston. Know that I, and all those who follow me here in Exalon, have come to defeat Mathune. We will restore peace and justice to your land. Let it be known that Bain of Marston awaits the coward Mathune, if he has the courage to face me.”
Bain stood still again and let the looks and murmurs of the small crowd roll over him as his words sank in.
“We welcome any who wish to support us in our common aim. We cannot supply you with weapons. But it will take more than armed combat to defeat him. Mathune will have men – men on horseback. We have a plan to take that advantage from him - with your help. There are ways you can assist that do not require swords, or weapons training. Are you ready to take back what has been stolen from you?”
Bain knew he had struck the right cord when he saw nods and people began to speak and gesticulate between themselves. He waited a few moments before his final statement.
“Any man wishing to join our fight, come to the stables behind this inn at dusk.” Then he turned on his heel and strode back into the inn, Reynce at his back. The guards followed and closed the door.
Altered Destinies- Earth Reborn Page 17