Death was what he could smell now, and not just some rabbit quietly fermenting in a hedgerow. This was strong. Even his roan could smell it and it made him jumpier than usual. Rogue had to exert all his control to keep the animal in check.
He gave the horse a little slack in the hope that it would head toward the horrible sickly odor, but the roan immediately turned away from the smell and headed up a hill and away.
Taking charge, he reined in the horse, pulled on the reins and steered the horse in the direction he wanted to travel. It still took him digging his heels into the horse’s sides to maintain his pace and direction. Before he had traveled a mile, he sat up tall in his saddle and sniffed the cool morning air. The roan was snorting, his breath misting slightly, although the air was beginning to warm now the sun had risen above distant mountains.
Rogue urged the horse forward at a walk, leaning over both sides to examine the ground. He could see tracks, many tracks. Tracks upon tracks, heading toward the Grant estate, and fresher but fewer tracks heading away.
With a kick of the heels and a shout, Rogue pushed the roan into a gallop. Leaning forward slightly, he rode the ups and downs and the rhythm of the horse’s back until he reached the fence line of the Grant property.
The fence itself had been smashed and trampled and the tracks he had been following continued toward the house. He tied the roan to a tree, pulled his sword from its sheath, and advanced through the trees toward the house. The smell of death became more and more overpowering as he approached.
He saw the first dead body almost immediately; one of the sentries. Insects had already started the process of disposing of the body. More bodies were lying around as he approached the door, including four archers who were evidently guarding an escape route.
The further he got into the house, the more bodies he found. At the bottom of the stairs, a body with an arrow in the neck lay as still as a pond on a breathless day. The pool of blood around his head had lost its scarlet hue, beginning to turn brown. He had lain there for some hours. The flies wouldn’t be far behind.
Carefully, he peeked around the wall and up the stairs. There was nothing to be seen other than the boots of someone lying toes-down on the ground.
At the top, the dead bodies were piled upon each other, with more dead people in every room.
Ignoring the corpses now for speed, he headed first to Lady Grant’s room, expecting the worst. The room was empty, although the covers on the bed had been disturbed. If she had been taken, Rogue didn’t want to think about her eventual fate.
He backed up and headed down the final corridor, straight to the end room, which he knew was Jasmin’s.
It was empty, but as he went to the window, he could see why. By the look of it, she had escaped. She was a plucky young lady, he had to admit to himself.
There was nothing he could do for any of the people in the house, and he assumed the sentries had perished in the battle, but they had given Jasmin enough time to escape. Their sacrifice was a noble one.
When he got back downstairs, he stopped and listened for a moment. He could hear something, maybe a rat scuttling about, but it was very faint.
Then he heard a click, a definite click, and one of the colorful rugs that covered the stone-flagged floor moved. He held his sword out in front of him, waiting for the ambush.
“How in the seven hells is a bloody woman supposed to move this?”
Rogue’s eyes opened wide at the sound of a cursing Lady Grant. He would know that voice anywhere.
He stepped over and grabbed the edge of the rug, then whipped it to one side. He could see the fair hair and eyes of Lady Grant peeking through a gap between a trapdoor and the steps it concealed down into the cellar.
“Rogue? How good it is to see you.”
“Lady Grant. What are you doing down there?”
“Hiding, Rogue. What are you doing up there?”
“Looking around to see what in the gods happened here.”
“We were attacked. Is there anybody...” A sob cut off her question, but Rogue knew exactly what she was going to ask and shook his head.
“It looks very much like Jasmin managed to escape. There is certainly no sign of her here.”
Rogue lifted the trapdoor to its fullest and offered his hand to assist Lady Grant in her efforts to get out.
“Thank you, Rogue. Before you replace the lid, one of the guards is down there too. He is injured and will need help to get out.”
Rogue slowly placed the trapdoor wide open on the floor, then stepped back around to where the steps led down into the musty-smelling, dank interior. A hopeful face looked back up to him, then winced in pain.
“You are hurt?”
“Yes.”
“Wait there. I’ll come carry you up the stairs.”
Alonso grinned through the pain. “A shoulder to lean on will be ample, sir. My name is Alonso.”
“Alonso, that much I am glad to offer. I am Rogue.”
Alonso’s eyes widened. “Really? The Rogue?”
“That would be me, yes, and although it isn’t my real name, it will suffice for the time being.”
Rogue stepped down to the bottom of the stairs and wrapped Alonso’s arm around his shoulder and his own arm around Alonso’s back. Alonso hopped awkwardly up the first step, but they soon got a rhythm going and made it up the steps.
Alonso hopped to a chair while Rogue closed the trapdoor.
“So, what happened?” Rogue said, looking from Alonso to Lady Grant and back again.
“The outside sentries spotted someone in the grounds that turned into a lot of someones. I was down here talking with Alonso and as soon as the guard ran in to tell us about the invasion, I told Alonso about the trapdoor. He and I went down and have been in there all night and it was terrible, Rogue, terrible, all we could hear was the sound of fighting and people screaming and I was so worried because I knew Jasmin was upstairs and I didn’t want her to get caught because I knew they would kill her and I sat down there in that dark cellar praying to the gods that she would escape and she did and now I’m here and I don’t know where she went. Oh...” She finally ran out of steam and was forced to take a breath, but that breath turned into a mournful sob.
“Thanks, Lady Grant. I meant, what happened to Alonso?”
Alonso coughed, seeming to try and cover up a laugh.
“My part in proceedings was small. I followed Lady Grant down the steps, and, errm...”
“Come on, what happened?”
“I tripped and fell down the last six steps. I think my ankle is sprained and my wrist where I put it—”
“You made me help you up those stairs and all you have is a twisted ankle?”
“To be fair,” Alonso said, “you did offer, and I can’t walk on it and it hurts like blazes.”
Rogue glared at Alonso for a moment, then switched his attention to Lady Grant.
“No matter now. Lady Grant, are you injured?”
“Only in my heart, Rogue. I love this estate, but I cannot stay here any longer. And I need you to find Jasmin.”
“You are right. I know someone who will help you and will keep you safe while I track down your daughter.”
“Who?” Lady Grant squinted slightly suspiciously.
“Baron Levy.” Rogue knew what Lady Grant’s reaction was going to be, but it didn’t matter. He needed someone that Vernon Glaire and anyone else looking for Jasmin wouldn’t expect. The baron was the perfect person for the task.
“Baron Levy, that no-good scoundrel? I had to throw him off my land when I moved here, or don’t you remember that?”
“Indeed. But the baron and I have a very useful understanding. He helps me, or I come and flay him alive.”
“I understand. He’s afraid of you.”
Rogue shrugged. “Perhaps, but even if he weren’t, he’s no fool. He knows that if he betrays me he wouldn’t like what would happen.”
“Very well, then, Penrith and Baron Levy it i
s. What shall we do about the bodies?”
“We don’t have time to bury them, my lady. Once I get you safely to Penrith, I’ll organize some men from Riverside to come up and dispose of the bodies.”
Lady Grant nodded her approval, picked up her cape, and headed to the door. “Do what you must. Just make sure my Jasmin is safe.”
26
Rogue
The journey to Penrith took a while longer than Rogue had hoped. While Lady Grant could ride perfectly well and did, once she had gathered some belongings while trying to avoid the dead bodies all over the house, Alonso was a different matter.
Only able to use one leg and carrying injuries he hadn’t mentioned back at the house, it was a constant battle with gravity to stop him from falling off. A battle Rogue lost at least three times on the ride over.
When the walls of the Levy estate came into view, Rogue breathed a sigh of relief. Trying to keep Alonso on his horse had proved almost as much of a challenge physically as a good bar brawl on a Saturday night down at the Wretched Wench. Finally, he ended up strapping him to the horse.
Now they had arrived, he simply had to make the baron understand that if he valued his skin, he would do as Rogue asked. Rogue had little doubt that he would. The man was a coward and would do almost anything to avoid being hurt.
As they rounded a corner of the wall and headed toward the main entrance, a sentry stepped out to challenge them.
“Halt. Friend or foe?” the young man said. He seemed hardly old enough to be let out on his own, let alone to be manning the gate to a rich and vitally important estate.
“You’re new, aren’t you? What’s your name?” Rogue said.
“Cedric, sir, and yes, I am new here. I started three nights ago.”
“Could you go and advise the baron that we are here?”
Cedric stared at them slack-jawed for a moment while he processed the request, then shook his head.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Rogue smiled. “In that case, we’re foes. What happens next?”
Cedric drew his sword and took up a limp fighting stance.
“Young man,” Lady Grant said, “do you know who this man is?”
“He said he was foe, so that’s enough for me, missus.”
“Does the name Rogue mean anything to you, boy?” she asked patiently.
“Rogue?” Cedric looked up to the sky while he thought. Suddenly his eyes widened as the cogs finally whirred into place. “The Rogue?”
“Yes, Cedric, the Rogue.”
“See now, you don’t look like you were described to me by the baron. You sure you’re Rogue?”
Rogue jumped down from his horse, handing the reins to Lady Grant. Cedric took a couple of steps back to keep out of range.
“How exactly did the baron describe me?”
“He said that Rogue was the meanest, dirtiest, scummiest bastard this side of the river.”
“And that description doesn’t fit me because ...?”
“Well, you do look mean, but the baron looks meaner. You’re not dirty and I’d say you weren’t as scummy as old Eric who does the night shift on guard. He really is scummy. Some of the things he does...” Rogue watched as Cedric shuddered at the thought.
In a flash, Rogue was on the boy. He knocked his sword flying out of his hand and into the dense bushes the other side of the road. Then he grabbed his arm and twisted it up his back to a piercing squeal of pain from Cedric. Rogue used his other hand to grab Cedric by the back of his tunic and, with the boy stumbling around in front of him, marched him through the gate and along the gravel path to the house.
Lady Grant, satisfied that Rogue wasn’t actually going to kill the boy, followed on behind, even though she was struggling to hold on to Rogue’s horse as it tried to bite her own horse. Alonso hung on as best he could, trying not to fall off again.
At the house, Rogue waited with Cedric.
“Now, Cedric. Please, go and tell the baron we are here and request to see him, and don’t make me come and kick your ass again. Understand?”
“Yes. Sir, Mr. Rogue, sir. I’ll be right back.” The boy ran off through the house while Rogue took charge of his horse again. Lady Grant dismounted. Alonso miserably sat where he was, unable to sit safely or get off without falling.
“You were very harsh on that boy, Rogue,” Lady Grant said.
“Was I? He was a boy trying to do a man’s job. The baron must be slipping. I’m starting to have second thoughts about leaving you here with him. Leaving a boy like that on sentry duty is madness.”
The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps from within the house took their attention.
A sweaty and panting Cedric appeared in the doorway.
It took the boy a moment to get his breath back, and he was still panting slightly as he spoke.
“The baron says welcome, and could you meet him in the library?”
“Thank you, Cedric.”
“You’re welcome, sir. I’m not sure how well the baron is, sir. When I said you were here he went as pale as a sheet and I’m not sure he didn’t soil himself just a little bit.”
Rogue laughed while Lady Grant held a gloved hand across her nose and mouth.
Rogue fished in his pocket. “You’re a good lad, Cedric. Now take care of our horses. They need water and a few oats, and mine needs to be ready to ride out of here in half an hour.” He flicked a gold coin to Cedric. “That’s for your trouble, but I suggest you keep that to yourself.
Cedric looked down at the coin wide-eyed, then up at the party. “But, sir, miss. This is too much.”
“No Cedric, it isn’t. Use it wisely. Maybe you will be able to find a job more suited to your abilities elsewhere. That will help tide you over until you do. If you can’t find more work, use it to get to Riverside. There will be work there a’plenty in the coming months at the Grant estate.”
Cedric looked up at Rogue, who stood almost a foot taller than the still-growing lad. Rogue could swear the boy had tears in his eyes. He took his roan and Lady Grant’s horse, nodded his thanks, and led them away.
“Why did you say that to the boy, Rogue?”
“Because he is a hopeless sentry, my lady, but did you see the speed with which he ran through the house? There is always a need for speed on the ground. He may well be useful should he decide to come to Riverside, just not as a sentry.”
Lady Grant regarded Rogue for a moment, then nodded wisely.
“You’re a deep one, Rogue, and that’s for sure.”
Rogue smiled. “I may be fearsome, my lady, but I hope I am wise too.”
After a struggle to get Alonso off his horse, and supporting him through the building, the three travelers finally made it to the library. With a groan that reinforced what Rogue had thought, that Alonso was more severely injured than he made out, Rogue slid him down onto a comfortable settee. Then he and Lady Grant proceeded to the two seats set out in front of the baron’s desk.
The rest of the room was books on shelves. Rogue had never seen the library before and wasn’t overly impressed. Words are all well and good, but sometimes—most times, in his experience—words caused the trouble that his actions ended. He knew which he preferred.
The baron stood to greet his guests, bowing his head to Lady Grant as she took her seat and glaring at Rogue with thinly disguised contempt until Rogue looked up, at which point his face switched to a weaselly smile.
“Please, sit. It’s an honor to receive such an important visitor, Lady Grant. I trust that nothing any of my business activities are connected with has impacted you to cause this visit?”
“My home has been attacked, Baron. My staff have been murdered and I have been forced to flee my estate. Had I thought you were involved in any way, I would hardly have come here to ask for your assistance.”
“No, of course. That is grave news, my lady. Do you have any idea why you were attacked?”
“Look, Baron.” Rogue cut into the niceties. “A
ll you need to know is that Lady Grant needs help, and I expect you to deliver it. We are both well aware of your joint histories, and I believe you owe the lady a debt, which it is now time to repay...in part.” Rogue didn’t want the fool of a baron to think helping now let him off the hook completely. He might be of further use later. “I need you to arrange transport for the lady and her companion.” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder at Alonso, who was grunting and shifting on the settee, trying to get comfortable. “To Evermeir, to the king’s palace. I expect you to deliver her there safely. Her attackers do not know she is safe, so you should have no worry about being attacked. The man is injured, so he will need assistance. Get them there in three days’ time. Understood?”
The baron bristled slightly as Rogue spoke to him.
“Or I will be paying you another nocturnal visit on less friendly terms than the last,” Rogue added.
The baron blanched and gulped.
“Of course. Everything I have is at your disposal, my lady. I will make arrangements for a carriage, supplies, and men to accompany you on the journey.”
“You’ll be going too,” Rogue said.
The baron flashed a glance at Rogue, who was holding one hand to his throat by way of a message.
“Of course, of course, and I shall accompany you. It has been many years since I went to Evermeir. It will be good to make its acquaintance again.”
“You are very kind, Baron. I will make sure the king is aware of your generosity and help in times of trouble,” Lady Grant said.
Baron Levy’s eyes lit up at the prospect of a word in his favor in the ear of the king.
“I am leaving now to go back to Riverside and try to find those responsible for the attack on Lady Grant. I will trust you to do this simple task or—”
“Yes, yes, Rogue, you have my word that Lady Grant and her companion will get to Evermeir safely.” The baron’s tone was short-tempered, even irritated, at being dictated to by Rogue.
Rogue stood quickly, pushing the chair so it fell over backward. He leaned over the table, fists down. “Be sure they do, Baron Levy, or it will be you I come looking for. And send that boy, Cedric the sentry, with the party. He would be a good runner in case of trouble.”
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