Ardent

by Florian Armas

  “You fight with Matei,” Sara said, her face suddenly white, yet she avoided calling me a mercenary. “Why are you refusing our money?” She jumped from chair and came to me. “Please, if not for me, do it for my child. Ralf would kill him, to make space for his own heir to take over. Please.”

  “I did not refuse you. I just need more time to think about it. Some soldiers will not accept us, because they believe Sharpe’s story that we killed Little Boar, and there are other things you are not aware of yet. I suppose you want to see your aunt now,” I said.

  “Sara,” Varia interjected. “Would you take lunch with us?”

  “Yes,” the young woman said despondently, then her lips puffed, as from a blow to the stomach, and she rushed toward the door. “Let’s go, Lovrin.” Before leaving, she stared briefly at me, like a wild cat, but remained silent.

  “Three turns pass fast.” Varia placed a hand on Sara’s shoulder, then went away with them.

  “You are afraid that the survivors of Boar’s band that you met in Arad would recognize you.” Once back, Varia took a chair and sat in front of me, so close that our hands almost touched.

  “Sara was right, we killed Boar and his men with arrows, the strategy of a split second, and everything finished in less than a minute, but once they see me and Vlad on our horses...”

  “That’s true,” Varia rubbed her chin. “I never saw such horses. They are obviously from far away. Maybe you can take the ones you have captured. This may put you in danger too, as some may recognize them, but they look ordinary, as you said...”

  “That’s what I was thinking too. I have not committed to it yet, though,” I added quickly. “There is much to learn. Can we trust them?”

  “Sara is a gentle woman who has suffered a lot. Most women do in this world. She can be trusted, Lovrin too. I spent a part of my youth in her parents’ house, after my father was killed.”

  “You owe her, but she doesn’t owe you. How much of your thoughts are kind because of that?”

  “Codrin, I know that this is hazardous, as any fight is, and I have no right to ask anything of you, but they can be trusted.”

  “What do you know about Sharpe?”

  “He is dangerous. Inside the mercenaries’ world, like Valer, Sharpe is a captain. He ‘rules’ the north-west of Frankis, but that is the only resemblance between them. Valer is a man; Sharpe is a worm. Two years ago, there was a move to replace Sharpe as captain. Orban intervened on his behalf; some mercenaries died in strange circumstances, and the mutiny ended before really starting. The captains are named Black Dervils. There are only five of them in Frankis. Dervil is a black snake in the south,” she answered my mute question. “Poisonous. I have no idea why they are called Black Dervils. We may try to guess.”

  “Will Valer seek to avenge Matei? I apologize for asking.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Valer always takes care of his men, but he is far from here, so his arrival will be delayed to spring or even later. Not that he has much to do now that Boar is dead.”

  “Have you any way to contact Valer?”

  “Dochia,” she shrugged, “but as I told you, she is in Litvonia right now. With all that snow,” Varia gestured toward the open window, “I doubt that she can return before spring.”

  “Quite a small world.”

  “Small?” Varia asked. “Ah, the link between Valer and Dochia.”

  “I still have much to learn about Frankis,” I sighed. “How much are Sara and Lovrin aware of this political net around them?”

  “They know Dochia as Lena – she grew up in the valley with that name – but not about the Wanderers, I suppose, and for sure they know about Sharpe being a Black Dervil.”

  “Are they not afraid to confront him?”

  “They are. Why do you think they came to you after killing Little Boar? Mothers fight for their children, and Sara is a fighter. People in the castle respect her. Don’t think her weak because she hid what Little Boar did to her. She did not tell you everything. Sharpe kept a knife at her child’s neck while the other one...”

  “A knife in the back? Poison? There are many ways to kill a stronger enemy.”

  “Don’t put yourself in her shoes until you know everything. You may or may not help her, but don’t judge her.” Her stare darkened. It’s not that I felt hate from her, just pain.

  “There is more?”

  “Yes,” Varia snapped, then remained silent. “I apologize,” she said after a while. “The last two weeks were hard for me.” She breathed deeply, her eyes closed for a few moments. Open again, they looked clear. “I think it is better to tell Sara what happened to Matei, and that you are not a mercenary. She has already started to guess that you are more than she knows. We talked a little when we walked away,” Varia shrugged.

  “Did you talk about Boar, too?”

  “Yes,” she said in a tone of slow consideration. “But nothing about the people who killed him. Sharpe did not say much about you in the castle, but however clever he is, he still let slip that you and Vlad have good fighting skills. Two of you and Damian against six, and none of them survived. That’s why Sara offered you a ten months’ mercenary’s pay for two weeks... Hard weeks indeed.”

  “That and desperation.”

  “And desperation, yes,” she agreed.

  “Did Sharpe mention Pintea?” I asked, and Varia just shook her head. “Odd, or maybe not.” A strange thought passed through my mind. “I think Sharpe was there when we killed Little Boar, hidden somewhere and he saw... He didn’t interfere, for some reasons we start to guess. That may change some things.” Varia glanced at me, but that thought was not yet ripe for sharing. “I have some personal interest in Sharpe.”

  “Don’t deal with that worm,” Varia said, tightening her lips. “If you need mercenaries go to Valer. He can be trusted.”

  “You’re mistaken. I don’t need Sharpe alive; I need him dead, and let’s say you would want that too, but with a Black Dervil you must be careful. Sara is under pressure, and desperate people may act irrationally.” Don’t you see that Sharpe will try to kill both you and me?

  “You are an army commander and a Knight. They will...”

  “Let’s forget about the commander thing, and keep it hidden from them. How much did Dochia tell you about me?”

  “You have the Wanderers’ countenance, and very few people carry a Talisman Wing. She told me that you have an important role to play, and...” She bit her upper lip, staring at me. “Valer and Matei were asked to keep an eye on you.”

  That’s why Matei led my mercenary guard in Mehadia... “Vlad, bring me the letter,” I said abruptly, knowing that he would understand what I wanted. They were asked... Dochia asked. I am missing many links.

  “It’s getting cold. You should eat first.” Livia admonished me, then poured some more hot milk into my bowl.

  “I am half done,” I smiled, having the strange feeling of being ‘adopted’ by her, then I slowly added honey, stirring the rice. “And enough time to finish before Vlad comes back.” With my mouth full, all I could do, when he returned, was to point toward Varia.

  “Valer’s writing,” she said after opening the letter, and I just nodded, trying not to upset Livia again. “You think is Sharpe who picked the warrant on your name. Sharpe is not aware that his target is already here.” She glanced thoughtfully at me.

  “That, or he is a prudent man. Or it may be that another one was charged to kill me. The storm might have played a role too. How many mercenaries are in Boar’s castle?”

  “For whatever reason, Boar hired two of them, together with Sharpe. They did not come here with Little Boar. We should ask Sara.”

  “That ‘whatever’ reason concerns me.”

  “Do you think that more mercenaries would come with Ralf?”

  “That would be the most sensible thing to do. Any mercenary captain has ten to twenty men as guards, his best ones. Those ten soldiers Sara mentioned. They must stay somewhere over the wi
nter.”

  “Ralf doesn’t have a castle, but his house is large enough to host twenty men.”

  “Is it far from here?”

  “At the other end of the valley, three or four turns’ ride from here. It’s not that far, but the land is rough and hard, even for a good horse. A day or so with that snow.” She gestured at the white blanket, through the open window, then remained silent.

  “More rice?” Livia pointed to my empty bowl.

  “Oh, no,” I patted my belly. “There is no room for more.”

  “I wish you could help Sara,” Livia said, more a whisper than a voice, “but I don’t want you or Vlad harmed.”

  “We’ll see to it, but there is one thing you must learn.” I raised my hand with a finger pointing up. “Never start a war if you are not prepared to lose it.”

  “What?” Livia asked, her eyes incredulous.

  “That’s another way of saying that you must be well prepared,” Varia explained to her.

  “Ah,” Livia mumbled. “Aunt Dochia said the same thing. You never throw your last knife.”

  “I hope that you will learn more than throwing knives.” The words simply escaped my mouth, and I shifted the spoon from hand to hand to hide my embarrassment; I did not want to offend Livia.

  “Like what?” she asked, eagerly.

  “Reading...”

  “I know to read and to write.” There was a notch of protest in her voice.

  “It was just a general remark,” I ruffled her hair. “The pleasure of reading, playing in the garden, swimming in the Turquoise Lake, things like that. Common things that we get to appreciate only when they are missing. Thank you for the rice. It was very good.” My fingers went slowly to Livia’s chin, touching it briefly, and for the first time in two weeks, there was a full smile on her lips. “It’s refreshing outside,” I stared through the window. “A walk will clear my mind, and you will have enough time to prepare lunch without some loafers hanging around.”

  The lunch was only small talk, from past days’ weather to good old memories from a valley that was not part of my own world. I listened in silence, and now and then, in the corner of my eye, I caught Sara’s furtive glances at me and Vlad, and ignored them. When all the pleasant subjects were finished, there was a sign from Varia, or maybe it was just habit; her children stood up and left the kitchen. Pintea followed them, while I signaled Vlad to stay. It was not that Pintea could not be trusted for such sensitive talks; I was just trying to make Sara less uncomfortable talking with too many strangers. The door closed behind Livia, and an uneasy silence filled the room.

  “What do you know about Boar’s death?” I finally asked Sara.

  “He was killed in Arad. Seven more guards died there with him, but there was not much of a fight. The attackers used arrows, even though there were more than ten of them. Two brigands were standing apart among them: dressed in black and riding unusual, dark grey horses. Strangers, I suppose. Sellswords.”

  “Why was Boar in Arad?”

  “Maybe it was an errand from Lenard. I was not his confidante.” A slight nervous tremor passed through her voice.

  “The papers I found this morning,” Lovrin said quickly.

  “The one mentioning Matei?” Sara asked, and Lovrin nodded. “It was a letter informing Boar that Matei would come home to pay the debt, and that he would pass through Arad, but you paid the debt to ... Little Boar, so I did not consider it to be important.”

  Varia said nothing, her face pale, but her fingers gripped the table with white knuckles.

  “Lovrin has a different opinion,” I gestured toward him.

  “It just came to me, when we discussed about Arad. It may be just circumstantial. There was another letter from Severin concerning you. I would have brought it, but we did not know your name before arriving here.”

  “Let’s finish with the first thing,” I said.

  “You think that there may be a link between Boar’s ride to Arad and Matei,” Sara said.

  “Matei is dead.” Varia’s voice was bland, her nervous fingers still gripping the table.

  “Oh,” Sara said, staring at Varia, her eyes suddenly enlarged. Standing next to Varia, I met Sara’s eyes and saw genuine sorrow glaring in them. “I am sorry, Varia.” She gasped, but no other sound left her mouth.

  “And I am the black-clad stranger on a grey horse, but your men lied; there were only three of us, not ten, against your men, one of us almost a child. We arrived too late to save Matei, but a form of justice was served. We are not brigands. We have punished Boar for killing Matei.”

  “I am sorry,” Sara repeated.

  “I see,” Lovrin said thoughtfully, his eyes swinging between Vlad, who was also dressed in black, and me. “Boar was a despicable man, but please don’t put his sins on Sara. She doesn’t deserve it. He harmed us too.”

  “I won’t,” Varia said. “But you know now why Codrin needed more time and information before answering your plea.”

  “I feel like an ingrate now, but in a strange way, our cause is your cause too. Please don’t judge me wrongly, it’s just...” Lovrin’s hands turned up.

  “The second letter,” I said casually.

  “Someone named Aron asked Boar to be the middleman between Sharpe and him. Do you know this man?” Lovrin asked, and I nodded. “Aron was ready to pay three hundred galbeni for your head.” He stumbled, his eyes fixed on me. “I apologize, it’s only now I realized how large is the amount involved in ... this. The letter came three weeks ago, but I don’t know if Sharpe...”

  “I bet he did,” I said. Three hundred was a large amount, a quarter of Aron’s annual revenues, and Sharpe was not Valer. “But I don’t think that we have to worry about that now. How did Sara’s lover become Boar’s Secretary?”

  “We grew together and love each other, but we are not lovers,” Lovrin said sharply, his lips writhed in a half snarl. “Not in the way you meant it. No one outside our families knew about our love. It was Gent, Boar’s father, who promoted me to his second Secretary. The same man who forced Sara into marriage after her father died. Cursed be his name. Gent died in the battle against Midian. Then the old Secretary died too, last year. This is how I became Secretary.”

  “You must have some clout in the castle.” I ignored his outburst.

  “I may have, but not over the soldiers. Those brutes respect only force, and I am not exactly a swordsman.”

  “We need a way to enter the castle,” I glanced at Sara.

  “I have no control of the gate,” she said.

  “Sara,” I stared at her, “this is your battle. If you don’t fight, why should we do it for you?”

  “I am thinking. I am thinking.” She shivered, though the kitchen was snug and warm. No other words came out from her.

  “How well is the castle defended?”

  Lovrin bit his lip before speaking. “The walls are high and strong, but who will man them? Even when we count Ralf’s men, there are only a few soldiers left. They have halberds and arrows, but some are too green, and some too old. I am not a ... soldier, but you are right; we need a way to sneak you inside the castle; there is no way for you to ...” He stopped at loss of words. “To climb, and...”

  “We need to enter before Ralf comes,” I added.

  “So you will help us...” Sara covered her mouth in haste as if warding off a bad omen, and remained silent.

  “Five riders are coming.” Damian burst into the kitchen through a back door, and went to the window. “They wear Boar’s colors.”

  “Take your bow and go to the barn,” I placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “Pintea and Lisandru should stay with you. Send Livia here.”

  “Strange,” Damian said. “They are not coming to our house.”

  “They are after me,” Sara whispered, and sprang up, then came to the window too, and I made place for her. “Belar is leading them, and one of Sharpe’s mercenaries. Little Boar acted like Chief of the Guard.” She stared at me for a brief mom
ent. “And Belar was his deputy, one of the men who may not like Sharpe. They are going to my aunt’s house. I should have returned earlier to the castle. We must leave fast; I don’t want to endanger Varia.” She nodded toward Lovrin.

  “It’s too late for that,” I stopped her. “They will realize that you are here. Let them come. We may learn things. I will hide with Vlad, there.” I pointed to the door used by Damian.

  “Do you want to ambush them when they enter the house?” Lovrin asked, with a touch of panic in his eyes.

  “We can take them, but that will prevent any chance of turning some soldiers to your side, and it will endanger Varia.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.”

  “Then what you think we should do?” I asked, annoyed.

  “Hide,” he shrugged, and bit his upper lip.

  “They are coming,” Sara said from the window, and it did not take long for the men to dismount in front of the house, but only Belar entered.

  “Varia,” Belar gave her a curt nod, the moment he entered the kitchen; it seemed that he knew the house well. “Lady Sara, we were worried because you stayed too long, and even more so when we found your sick aunt alone.” He stared hard at Sara, but somehow hesitantly – from aside, I could see his face well through the slightly split door. “There were some troubles in this house,” he gestured around him. “Some people in the castle may find your presence here disturbing, after what happened to Little Boar.”

  Through the faint space of the door, I could see Varia’s hand springing to her mouth, suppressing a sob.

  “Matei is dead, Belar,” Sara said softly. “We are two widows who found some solace together.”

  “I am sorry for your loss.” Belar bowed toward Varia. “Matei was a fine man I knew from when we were children, playing together, but it is my duty to inquire about Little Boar’s death. The two strangers in your house killed Little Boar.”

  “They are not in the house,” Varia said dryly, “And what makes you think that they killed Little Boar?”

  “Money, I suppose. They took back what you paid. Thieves,” Belar spat.

  “Why would thieves bring a purse here?” Varia asked again, and Belar just shrugged. “And you did not answer my question. What makes you think that they killed Little Boar?”