Maig's Hand

by Phillip Henderson

  “And for that, I thank you. You know how to contact me if there is need before my father dies.” Kane’s attention shifted to where Bianca was still sitting by the fire. “Good evening to you, Milady.

  When the door closed, the Archbishop felt as if he might be able to stomach some dinner while he waited for Samuel to arrive. It would be the first he’d eaten since breakfast when the events of the night had arrived to ruin his day. Bianca was staring moodily into the fire and that surprised him. “I would have thought you’d be relieved. Kane has just saved the lives of five thousand slaves.”

  “You didn’t find him odd?”

  “What do you mean?” the Archbishop asked as he collected all the messages on his bureau. “I found him pleasantly astute.”

  “I can’t place it but he was different. He crossed his legs to the right not the left as he usually does, and his eyes … they seemed slightly different. It was as if it wasn’t Kane.”

  “Bianca, you are too distrusting. It was likely the light. Kane is learning what is required to be a king; transition and change can only be expected. I would be concerned if it were otherwise.”

  “I fear it was more than that, Milord,” she replied, before lapsing into her own dark thoughts.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Henry took a nip from his gin flask to calm his nerves as his carriage rolled past Illandia’s Grand Abbey and down the tree lined promenade towards the city’s eastern gate. The wide torch lit street was all but deserted. The cold wind and threat of rain had a way of keeping folk indoors on nights such as these. Lea was sitting opposite him, and the poor girl looked half stricken as a passing torch cast an orange glow through the window.

  “Relax, my dear, the fates are very clear on how this will go. We have nothing to worry about.”

  Pretty dark eyes pinned him. “And if they intervene again.”

  She was worried about the White Druids, Henry knew that. They all were. “The fates say they won’t.”

  “The fates said as much last time as well.”

  “Yes, they did.” Henry glared at her, wondering if the spell had taken as it should for his attractive young niece wasn’t at all her usual, calm self.

  “Perhaps we should put her out,” Mr White said with a grin that was as revealing as Lea’s gown.

  “I’d like to see you try,” Lea said.

  “Both of you will hold your tongues and remember what we’re doing here,” Henry demanded.

  The carriage slowed as they passed three wagons piled high with barrels and timber boxes. The horned and woolly horses that were pulling them were evidence enough the wagon train was of Vafusolum origin and indeed Henry spotted a man attired in the colourful flowing robes of a merchant from the Eastern Empire arguing with a sergeant of the city guard at the head of the wagon train. Two young women were huddled together with a blanket wrapped around them on the seat of the lead wagon, and a good number of mercenaries and a handful of wagoneers stood nearby, sharing a pipe and company while they waited for the search to be completed. The soldiers swarmed over the wagons, prising open boxes and barrels with iron bars, and all this under the watchful eye of several knights of the King’s Guard. The torchlight was too poor to see which of Hendrix’s men were sitting there on horse back, but just the sight of the Lord Commander’s brothers, with their smokey grey plate armour, long knight swords strapped to their backs and silver, white trimmed cloaks swaying in the breeze made Henry feel uneasy. No soldier was more loyal to the King than these revered and experienced knights, except perhaps Lord Eden and his motley crew.

  The coach slowly drew to a stop and a captain of the city guard approached with four of his men in tow, several holding torches whose light touched mail and blue cloaks with black trim, and the Arkaelyon eagle fluttering in the blustery breeze.

  “Good evening to you, Milord, Milady.”

  “What is this about?” Henry asked, feigning ignorance.

  “We’re looking for the king’s disowned son, Kane de Brie. He’s gone missing, and we are to ensure he doesn’t try and escape the city.”

  “I see. Well I hope the scoundrel hasn’t crawled under my coach. By all means, search away.”

  “Thank you, Milord.” The guardsman nodded at several of his soldiers, who quickly set about their work. “And might I ask you to step down so we might check inside, Milord?”

  “I would prefer not,” Henry replied. “My niece, you see, she is not well, and she does not need to be out in the cold air tonight.”

  The captain looked ready to insist, but another voice spoke over him just as the fates said would be the case. “Captain, you can call your men off.”

  The familiar voice was slightly raised and accompanied by the clip clop of hooves and as Henry looked up General Hendrix came into view on the back of his favourite white horse.

  “Thank you, Milord.” Henry inclined his head out of respect, as did the general in return.

  Even in his late years, Hendrix was a formidable sight in the saddle. In earlier days many had called him the black bear due to his size and the colour of his hair and beard, but mostly for the combination of his genial disposition and towering strength when he was in battle. Tonight, however, as the breeze buffeted the powerful man, there was nothing amiable in his expression and he certainly looked more like a bear in his plate armour.

  “You were not party to this slavery bill our disowned prince presented to the General Council yesterday, I believe, Lord Cameron?”

  “As you well know, Milord, I prefer to keep to myself. Never had a nose for politics.”

  Henry was rewarded with a half smile.

  “Very wise, Milord.” Hendrix bent his head so he could see the others in the carriage. “Not well, Milady?” he enquired of Lea.

  As instructed Lea had a handkerchief to her pretty little nose and she nodded modestly. “Arkaelyon is much too cold, Milord.” Her Surlemian accent was perfect.

  “And where in Surlemia do you hail from?”

  “The city of Parlis.”

  “Lovely place, where the mountains and the sea meet the Garmalques River. Particularly pleasant in spring when the lilies grace the riverbanks and the jumalia trees are in flower.”

  “You know it, Milord.”

  “My good wife hails from there.”

  “Then she will likely know my family; the Rosalines? My uncle Marcos wed Lord Cameron’s youngest sister, and they live on the family estate a short ride north of Parlis.”

  “Yes, the Rosalines, your grandfather was quite a general in his day. I was sad to hear of his passing this winter just gone.”

  “Thank you for your kindness, Milord, he was much loved.”

  “Then good evening to you all, and safe trip.”

  “I hope you find our wayward prince, Milord, so you can be out of this foul wind,” Henry added. “Far too cool for the end of spring.”

  Hendrix nodded, the corners of his mouth curling up, but far too firm for a genuine smile. “Let them through.”

  The chains began to rattle inside the gate tower and then the portcullis lifted gradually, grinding against its guides as it disappeared into the towering stone arch above.

  As the carriage passed under the arch of the Eastern Gate and began across the stone causeway, Henry let out an audible sigh. “Well done, my girl, you were more than convincing.”

  ***

  “Do you think they know, Milord?” Sir Tarl asked quietly as he rode up beside the Lord Commander. Hendrix was watching Lord Henry Cameron’s black carriage disappear into the night. His smile had long since vanished.

  “I suspect not.” The thought of putting innocent people in harms way did not please him. “The gods help us all if this doesn’t go to plan. Send the bird.”

  ***

  Lea was laughing and grinning like she’d just seduced the prince regent as she leaned out the window and tossed the handkerchief she’d been holding to her nose out of the carriage. They had reached the end of the causeway. The dark f
orest was closing in around them as they followed the winding highway into the mountain ranges.

  Her high spirits were a welcome balm after the tension at the gate, and no one would hear her out here in the wilds. Though Henry had other things on his mind as he took his lord stick and tapped the roof.

  The driver’s partition ground back.

  “Are we being followed?” he asked.

  “No, Milord, but a raven just winged from the eastern gate.”

  This troubled him. There should have been a group of riders charging after them by now not a bloody messenger bird. “Which way did it go?”

  “Over our heads, Milord.

  “Keep a sharp look out then.”

  “You worry too much, Milord,” Lea said.

  “You know how it was supposed to be,” Henry said. “We were supposed to be followed. They want to keep his capture secret.”

  “And it will be yet. May we let him out, Milord? Oh please. We can say he held us captive and hijacked the carriage.”

  Henry guessed that was okay. “Lord Kane, do you hear that. Your saviour wishes you to come out.”

  “Do you wish to come out, my prince?” Lea asked coyly.

  A boot thumped against the back of Lea’s seat. The girl giggled as it shook her, but she refused to budge. “Will you be good to me?” she asked flirtatiously, raising her voice to be heard above the moving carriage.

  “Could I be anything other than good to a flower so sweet?” Kane called back.

  That set the girl laughing and fumbling at the seat lock. Her eagerness was amusing, and her kiss heartfelt and passionate when the back of the bench seat fell down and Kane crawled out of the dark space behind. She moaned against his mouth, her hands buried in his dark hair. One of the prince’s hands, meanwhile, found a barely covered breast and didn’t seem to care that company was present. The effects of the conjuring released the wants of the flesh more than was natural, Henry knew. Even so, he cleared his throat when he saw the other hand creeping under his niece’s gown. “Milord.”

  It took four more attempts before Kane broke off and said irritably, “What?”

  “Without extra wards around this carriage, it is possible the White Ones will sense you if your heart beat rises above a walk.”

  Kane laughed. “This one hardly requires exertion on my part.”

  “Even so,” Henry said, discreetly catching Lea’s eye. The girl did as he asked, and disentangled herself, straightening her gown and hair as she took her seat again, though not happily.

  “I hope for everyone’s sake, there are extra wards around your villa, Henry? I am a king, not a priest,” Kane said as he lay back down in the dark space behind the seat.

  “I assure you, Lea will be at your beck and call.”

  That put a smile on the girl’s face.

  It was then that Henry realised the fondness between these two was more than animal lust, magnified by youth and beauty. He wasn’t about to complain; a niece married to the next Hand carried considerable advantage and promise. And while there were myths that said it wouldn’t be so, one could always hope.

  The carriage began to slow. Henry frowned. The driver’s opening was thrown back again.

  “Milord, there’s a tree across the road up ahead. We’re going to have to stop and move it.”

  Henry wasn’t sure whether they should be worried about this or not. Is this part of the plan? “Find out whether it was brought down by the wind or not. Then get it cleared.”

  Henry lowered the window. The soft flickering light from the lanterns on the carriage shone out into the dark forest. The blustery wind moaned through the pine trees casting shadows and movement that made this place even more inhospitable than it usually was.

  When the coachmen jumped down and removed their coats and rolled up their sleeves, Henry opened the door and stepped down to oversee the work. The axes were handed down from the box behind the driver’s bench. Mr White had jumped over the ditch at the side of the dirt highway and walked over to the stump of the tree.

  “The work of axes, Milord,” he called back.

  Henry wasn’t surprised. So this is how it is to be. “Then clear it away. You three stand guard,” Henry said, drawing his own sword. A troop of cavalier with the Lord Commander at its head should be coming up the road behind them any minute. Should be.

  “I see his highness is enjoying himself,” Mr White said, his bearded face split by a bawdy grin. Henry heard the carriage beginning to gently rock behind him. Somehow he couldn’t see the humour in it. “Put your backs into it, get those axes swinging.”

  “What if they don’t show,” Mr White asked.

  The lack of sounds that might suggest a pursuit was playing on Henry’s mind as well. “Then I suspect we’ll have used a great deal of art and strength for nothing.”

  A bowstring twanged nearby immediately followed by a thud and an arrow sprouted on the side of the carriage. Henry flinched and instinctively brought his sword up. Before he could shout a warning a man hailed him by name and stepped casually from behind the trunk of a pine tree a short way into the woods. The light from the carriage lanterns and the extra two the men had lit to illuminate their work barely reached him. Not that it was needed. Attired in wolf furs and leathers, and with a long bow over his shoulder, Henry recognised this brigand as Mr Tony Morgan.

  “Your work I presume,” Henry demanded, pointing at the log across the road. He thought they had a bloody agreement. Ten pieces of gold once a month and none of his holding or dependents would be harassed or harmed. More importantly, this was a complication they could have done without.

  “Aye, it is. You see, I’ll be needing your carriage, Milord. So have you’re lads put them weapons down, and start walking back the way you came, and there’ll be no trouble.”

  “I thought we had an agreement?”

  “Seems a mutual friend is willing to pay more.”

  “Who?” Henry demanded. They had no mutual friend who could possibly pay more than he.

  Morgan’s men were emerging from the dark shadows of the woods. Hard faces, many with bounties on their heads, peered out from under hoods as they formed a wide parameter around the carriage. Their odd assortment of swords, axes and bows weren’t in hand—at least not yet, but the number of outlaws, the reputation of this particular band of cut throats, and the fact their position left no hope of escape convinced Henry to tell his men to do as they were asked. He was more concerned what would happen when the Lord Commander and his men arrived.

  “Come men, hurry yourselves,” he said. He glanced back at the carriage. “Lea! Step down, we have to go.”

  “Very good, Milord,” Morgan replied. “Hope you don’t take it personal and all. Business is business.”

  “The kings men will have you in a gibbet before dawn for this.”

  “Maybe they will maybe they won’t. Now be off with you, before I lose me patience.”

  “Lea, I said step down.”

  Henry had noticed that Morgan’s men were watching the carriage closely and with considerable caution. He suddenly realised why. They know who is in there. This was all making sense now. The crow had flown over them from the gate, and the king could certainly pay more than he. It might not have been as the bone’s had revealed it—at least not exactly, but while Morgan thought them ignorant of who was hidden aboard the carriage, their deception was still in play. Henry inwardly relaxed a little.

  “Lea! Come now.”

  “I’m scared!”

  “Milady, you best listen to your lord, or I’ll send Rattler in their to pry you out with his knife,” Morgan said, his face hard beneath the shadow of his cowl. He waited a moment more then gave a curt nod to a stick of a man Henry recognised as Len Terral. The boy picked up a rock, but before he could throw it at the dark window, the carriage door burst open under the force of a boot and Lea appeared. She was white with fear. The dagger pressed against her throat was in Kane’s hand.

  Henry feigned unbridl
ed terror, inwardly thrilled at the girl’s ability to improvise. “Let her go, you scoundrel!” he said, joining the charade.

  “Shut up, old man,” Kane said.

  “Where did you come from? The King will have your head!” Henry bellowed.

  “You have a rather comfortable space under your seats, Milord, and a rather lovely niece whom I am sure you don’t want harmed,” Kane said before pointing his dagger at Morgan and keeping a firm arm around Lea. “You, have those two sluggards untether the lead horse. And the rest of you stay back or I’ll give this fair lady a second mouth.”

  “By the gods, if you harm her,” Henry raged. “This man is wanted by the king … for the sake of all that is holy, do something, man!”

  “I know who he is,” Morgan said. There was caution in the outlaw’s eyes, like a hunter cornering a prize bear. His men looked just as hungry. “Grab them,” Morgan said, nodding at Henry and his men.

  “This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be,” Rattler said, as some of the men moved forward. Henry let himself be taken and forced to his knees.

  “They’ll not pay us,” Rattler said.

  “They will if they want their precious lord back.”

  Kane laughed. “You’re mad. My father would sooner eat his own shit than pay gold to lawless scum like you.”

  He was backing up towards the horses as Morgan casually notched an arrow. He drew back the bow and planted a quill in Lea’s chest.

  Henry gaped in disbelief. Outlaws rushed to take the prince. Kane shoved the dead girl into the arms of the nearest brigand and leapt over the ditch at the edge of the road. His blade opened the throat of Red Pete, before he was forced to retreat. He barely made it back over the ditch, slashing and turning, trying to keep the cordon of outlaws at bay, when Rattler saw a chance and grabbed him from behind. More men poured in and Kane was disarmed and wrestled to the ground.