Steelhaven 02 - The Shattered Crown

by Richard Ford

  ‘He didn’t say, and I didn’t ask,’ Leofric replied.

  It was obvious the young recruit didn’t like him, but Merrick could live with that. The lad was about as interesting as your average provincial pig farmer, so no great loss there.

  ‘We’d best be off then,’ Merrick said, standing and straightening his tunic.

  His feigned attempt at decorum was met with a silence that continued all the way to Garret, who sat in his courtyard, drinking his tea. Two other Sentinels stood to attention beside the captain and when Merrick drew closer he recognised Waldin and Statton.

  As Merrick and Kaira reached him, Garret placed his cup down and regarded them with an appraising eye. ‘I have a task for you all.’

  For the briefest of moments Merrick was reminded of a warehouse he had once been bundled into. One where he’d been given another task by Friedrik and Bastian. A task that had almost seen him sell a thousand souls into slavery and ended with him almost being killed. He couldn’t wait to learn of this one.

  ‘It requires my best swords and it’s the most important job in the realm,’ Garret continued. ‘Could well be the most dangerous too.’ He paused, looking at the four of them. It was obvious he was waiting for them to question him, to ask what in the hells could be so perilous. Merrick knew Kaira would say nothing – she’d have jumped from the top of the Tower of Magisters without question, if Garret had ordered her. Waldin and Statton weren’t about to speak either and Merrick was damned if he’d make an arse of himself and be the one to open his mouth.

  ‘Our queen requires a guard of the body. A permanent guard to watch over her night and day. Wherever she goes, there you will be. I don’t think I need to stress how important this is.’

  ‘No, Captain,’ Kaira said, before Merrick could even think to complain. ‘It would be an honour.’

  Gods, why didn’t she just bend down and kiss his arse while she was at it.

  Statton and Waldin also made noises of assent, only too eager to volunteer.

  ‘And you?’ Garret asked, looking at Merrick, who had remained conspicuously silent.

  He smiled back. ‘I live to serve.’

  Garret didn’t seem to see the funny side. ‘On two occasions assassins have breached the walls of Skyhelm and tried to murder our queen. Chances are there’ll be more attempts. Chances are you’ll be called on to offer your lives for her. If you’re not up to it, Ryder, say so now and I’ll put someone else in your place.’

  All of a sudden this was real. Until now Garret had tolerated Merrick’s blithe attitude due to his skill with a blade and the debt Garret thought he owed the Ryder family, but now all that was forgotten. Things were suddenly serious.

  And perhaps this was the chance Merrick had been waiting for.

  ‘Of course I’m up to it,’ he replied, perhaps with a little too much edge.

  Garret frowned. ‘Don’t fuck this up, Ryder. It’s your chance to make something of yourself.’ The captain stood up and drained the rest of the tea. ‘Come with me,’ he said. The four Sentinels followed him across the courtyard and through the doors that led into the palace proper.

  As a child, Merrick had walked these halls with his father, Tannick. He had shown him the hallowed seat of power within the Free States, explained to him the responsibilities he bore in protecting the king who sat upon it. Merrick had listened intently, awestruck at the majesty of the building, had even hoped he might one day follow in his father’s footsteps.

  As a man, Merrick was still struck by the splendour of the place, but there was now an edge of resentment. Remembering his father only evoked bitterness, even made a part of him hate this place. The old man had managed to ruin this, even though he’d been gone for most of Merrick’s life.

  They reached the massive throne room, the Sentinels standing aside as Garret approached. Merrick could see her there on that stone throne. Though he’d patrolled the palace scores of times he’d never been presented to the woman for whom he might have to give his life.

  At first glance, Janessa looked every inch the queen; the crown sitting comfortably on her head, her expression composed, regal. But there was still vulnerability there. Was it her youth, or perhaps her beauty, that instantly made Merrick want to protect her? Maybe it was a growing sense of duty.

  Ha! Duty? Who are you trying to kid, Ryder? Since when has that meant anything to you. You’ll fuck this up like you do everything else.

  Merrick tried to put any doubt behind him. He had to make an effort. Had to rise to this challenge. For once. So far he’d treated the Sentinels like he treated everything else – as an inconvenience. Now he had a chance to do something of value. To make amends, achieve something his mother would have been proud of. This was no time to let old doubts undermine him.

  Garret stopped before Janessa, dropping to his knee and bowing his head. The four Sentinels did likewise, waiting for her to address them.

  ‘Captain Garret, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?’ said the queen.

  Her voice was kind and lacked authority. It was then Merrick could see through any façade she might have been trying to create. She was just a girl sitting on that throne. Not a real queen. Not a leader of men. Just a girl thrown in the river and told to swim. Merrick knew only too well how that felt.

  ‘Majesty,’ said Garret rising gingerly as his old joints protested. ‘Please allow me to present my four best swords. Statton, Waldin, Merrick and Kaira. Each has volunteered to be among your personal guard.’

  That’s not exactly true is it, Garret. I don’t remember asking to volunteer.

  ‘Please rise,’ said the queen, and the four of them stood up. For a moment the queen looked them over with an appraising eye. Then she rose from her throne. ‘Walk with me.’

  With that she walked across the throne room and right past them. Garret looked momentarily flustered but he followed anyway. Kaira glanced to Merrick but he merely shrugged. It was clearly an unexpected breach of protocol. Merrick was beginning to like Queen Janessa already.

  They followed her through the winding corridors, down through the depths of the palace until they came out into the garden. It was all bare trees and bushes. Here and there stood shaped topiary that looked distinctly worse for wear in the chill winter air.

  ‘You can remain here, Captain,’ said Janessa, and Garret hung back as the five of them strolled on along a paved route through the garden. Merrick glanced back, and saw a look of furrowed concern on Garret’s face.

  Best watch your mouth, Ryder, or there’ll be the hells to pay.

  ‘How long have you served in the Sentinels?’ asked the queen, moving her hand across a bush of dried and darkened lavender.

  Waldin and Statton told her of the years they had spent within the Sentinels. When Kaira and Merrick remained in awkward silence, Janessa turned to them expectantly.

  ‘Only a matter of weeks, Majesty,’ Merrick replied. Under the circumstances he thought it best he do the talking – Kaira had never been one for easy conversation.

  ‘And yet Garret puts you among my personal guard. He must trust you implicitly.’

  ‘Though I, myself, have not been a Sentinel long, my father served among their number. I often visited the palace as a child.’

  Janessa looked at him curiously. ‘So you are carrying on a family tradition?’

  For all the bloody good it’s done me. ‘I am, Majesty.’

  ‘Then it seems we are both following in our father’s footsteps.’

  That thought galled him, more than he could have expected. The idea that he was following that old bastard Tannick Ryder anywhere filled Merrick with sudden revulsion.

  ‘And you, Kaira?’ said the queen. ‘Why are you such a trusted servant?’

  Kaira didn’t answer. Her mouth opened to voice a reply but she seemed lost for words, being unused to singing her own praises, especially in front of royalty.

  ‘Kaira Stormfall is a former Shieldmaiden, Majesty,’ Merrick interjected. ‘And a w
oman of few words.’

  Janessa turned to him, appraising him. ‘You are used to speaking for the women close to you, Merrick?’ He wasn’t sure how to respond. ‘I can assure you,’ Janessa continued, ‘you will not have to speak for me.’

  ‘I would never presume—’

  ‘No, please don’t.’ She turned, carrying on through the gardens.

  As he followed, Merrick couldn’t help but be intrigued by her self-assurance. Maybe he had underestimated her. Maybe she had it in her to be a ruler after all.

  After some moments of silence Janessa stopped, and stood staring up at a bare tree as she said, ‘Would you give your lives for me?’

  He hadn’t expected such directness, but Merrick already knew the appropriate answer.

  ‘We are sworn to defend the bearer of the Steel Crown unto death, Majesty.’

  ‘I didn’t ask you to repeat your oath, Merrick. But since that’s your answer, how do you really feel about it?’

  How do I feel about it? I feel fucking great. I can’t wait to fling myself in front of the spears and arrows that are inevitably heading your way.

  ‘We—’

  ‘We live to serve, Majesty,’ Kaira cut in. ‘To serve the city of Steelhaven. Serve the Crown. And to serve you. Our feelings were put aside when we made our oaths. We are now dedicated to this task, nothing else.’

  Queen Janessa smiled at this. Then shook her head. ‘I ask because I would never expect anyone to lay down their life for me. I’ve never wanted that.’

  She looked wistful, as if she was thinking of someone in particular. Merrick knew men had died during previous attempts to assassinate her. From her reaction it seemed the queen felt responsible, and the guilt weighed on her.

  ‘If it’s any consolation, Majesty, I’ve no intention of being killed.’

  He’d said it without thinking. Flippant. Stupid. But where he might have expected a reprimand, she merely smiled.

  ‘Neither have I, Merrick,’ she said. ‘So there we are. None of us will be killed. I could ask for no more.’

  With that she made her way back through the garden to where Garret stood. The captain of the Sentinels looked concerned, but the Queen placed a reassuring hand on his arm and said, ‘They will do, Garret. A good choice, I think,’ before making her way back into the palace.

  Garret looked with some relief at Merrick. ‘Managed not to mess that up,’ he said. ‘Well done.’

  ‘Was there ever cause for doubt?’ Merrick replied with a grin. Garret just shook his head and followed after the queen.

  Later, back at the barracks, as the sky began to darken Merrick and Janessa donned their armour. Merrick’s earlier confidence was gone, and he wondered what in the hells he had let himself in for.

  He was risking his life for a woman – a girl – he didn’t even know. A queen … his queen, but what in the hells did that actually mean? Merrick had never been a worshipper of faith or Crown and now here he was, preparing himself to offer his life for someone ordained as his superior.

  It smacked of horseshit.

  Where was the profit? Where was his angle? His reward for all this? If the other men of the Sentinels spoke true, the assassins that might be coming to kill her were prodigious of strength and unequalled in speed. Skilled beyond the ability of normal men. And here he was, Merrick Ryder, exemplary swordsman maybe, but hardly superhuman, tasked with protecting her.

  He glanced across at Kaira and saw she wore her armour with honour, her expression free of doubt or reservation. For a moment, a fleeting second of madness, he envied Kaira her blind devotion, her naive dedication. What he would have given to be so stalwart in mind and principle.

  But he wasn’t. He’d never done anything for anyone but himself. Never risked his own neck for friend or family. Never willingly risked his coin for someone else, let alone his life.

  ‘Is this the right thing for us?’

  He asked the question before he could stop himself. Even though he knew the answer, knew what she’d say, he just had to ask it.

  Kaira glanced over at him. No misgivings. No hesitation. ‘Yes. This is a duty. Yours as well as mine. You know it’s the right thing to do, and that’s where your doubt comes from.’

  He thought on that for a moment but could make no sense of it.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Your doubt means you’re changing, Merrick. It means you’re becoming a responsible human being.’

  How very fucking reassuring. ‘That’s worth getting killed for, is it?’

  Kaira shook her head. ‘We all die, sooner or later. Would dying for nothing be your preferred way?’

  ‘My preferred way would be living.’

  ‘Yes, you’ve already made that clear. But one day soon, you might have to make a choice. Might have to offer your life for someone else. You need to decide if you’ve got that in you. And you need to decide it soon.’

  With that, she made her way from the barrack room, leaving the door open for him to follow.

  Merrick stared after her. Tempting as the prospect of giving his life for the queen was, he could think of a thousand other things he’d rather be doing with it. But where else was there to go? Out on the streets to wait for the Guild to find him?

  No, that was just stupid. He had his sword and his armour and Kaira watching his back. They were in an impregnable citadel in a heavily defended city.

  What was the worst that could happen?

  As he followed Kaira he began to wonder, if it came down to it, whether he really would sacrifice his life for someone else. Especially when that someone else was a girl he hardly knew.

  Merrick could only hope he never had to find out.

  SEVEN

  It was a dark damp cellar, hidden deep beneath a house in a shitty part of Northgate – though truth be told, all of Northgate was pretty shitty. Rag had learned there were a thousand cellars like this in Steelhaven, the Guild’s secret little crap-holes where anything, or anyone, could be spirited away from the world, never to be seen again.

  ‘I haven’t got the money, Mister Friedrik. Honest I haven’t!’

  The words came in a frantic series of pants, spat from a bloody mouth dripping with lies.

  Or was he telling the truth? Rag couldn’t really say. He must be lying, mustn’t he? Otherwise why would they be putting him through this?

  Walder was tied to a chair, a single lantern swinging above his head, bathing him in light and surrounding him in shadow like he was the only one in the room – the only one in the world. His face was a mess, his clothes filthy, britches and shirt piss-stained and hanging off him in torn clumps. He was breathing hard, face tear-streaked, desperate, wits shredded to shit. It was a sight that could have turned the stomach of even the most hardened thug, but Rag had seen this a dozen times before – heard the pained cries, seen the beatings again and again. As much as she hated to admit it, she was getting used to it.

  A man walked forward into the light and Walder gave a little squeal. Harkas was an evil-looking bastard what never smiled. Without a word he leaned in over Walder, expressionless, just looming over him all intimidating.

  The punch came quick and fast, fist stabbing out like a knife from the dark. It hit Walder in the middle of his little paunchy gut, knocking all the wind from him. The noise that he gave out made Rag flinch. It reminded her of a time, years ago, when some of the street lads had caught themselves a kitten. They’d tortured it for what seemed like an age, and Rag had watched them, too afraid to step in, too sorry for the little thing to run away. In the end they’d thrown it in a fire, after they’d snipped its ears and tail off, and the sound it had let loose was a bit like the one Walder was making right now.

  When he’d stopped wailing and Harkas had made his way back into the dark he began pleading again.

  ‘I’m sorry … I’m sorry. I wish I knew where it were.’ So did Rag, then this could all be over with. ‘If I knew I’d tell you, Mister Friedrik, honest I would. Please don’t ki
ll me, Mister Friedrik. I’ve got mouths to feed.’

  Rag had heard pleading like this before; so many times even she was growing hard to it. Please don’t hurt me, I’ve got kids. My old mammy’s sick with the gout. The wife’s in the family way, Mister Friedrik, please let me live. At first she’d believed every line, felt sorry for every pathetic one of them, but now it was just getting fucking dull. And if she was getting bored with it, she was damn sure he would be too.

  Walder stopped, breathing hard, looking out from the lamplight, straining into the dark. With slow measured steps, Friedrik walked forward.

  It never failed to impress Rag what fear such an amiable-looking bloke could strike in another human being. She’d been in the Guild long enough now to meet some pretty scary bastards, but Friedrik, despite his little frame and his curly hair and his friendly smile, was scarier than any of them.

  ‘Walder,’ Friedrik said casually as though he was greeting an old friend, and not some poor bastard strapped to a chair and bleeding. ‘Walder, Walder, Walder.’

  Friedrik smiled then, one of his big friendly don’t-worry-about-it smiles. All Walder could do was smile back, but Rag could see the desperation behind his eyes. Could see that Walder knew he was walking a thin line and whether he’d live or die would depend on the next few moments.

  ‘I believe you, of course,’ Friedrik said, holding up his hands like this had all been some kind of misunderstanding and they could just go out for a beer to make it right. ‘You fenced the items for us, like we asked. You took the payment, like we asked. What you handed over to us was a little light, but why would you lie about it?’ Walder opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced by Friedrik’s raised finger. Rag flinched again at that. If there was one thing guaranteed to piss Friedrik off it was being interrupted. She let out a sigh as Friedrik patted Walder on the shoulder. ‘It’s all right, mate. Things like this happen. Cut him loose.’

  Two lads moved from the dark behind Walder, reaching down and cutting the rope that secured him to the chair. Walder looked around, wide-eyed.

  ‘Is that it then, Mister Friedrik? Can I go now?’