Artesans of Albia: 01 - King's Envoy

by Cas Peace

  “It certainly sounds odd,” agreed the Captain. “Why would the Andaryans suddenly break a Pact they’ve held for more than twenty years? The scale of it just doesn’t make sense.”

  “You know what demons are like,” said Bull. “Revenge is as good an excuse as any.”

  Robin shook his head. “Surely this can’t just be over the theft of a weapon. There must be some other reason, something extra. Burning villages? Driving townspeople from their homes? That’s not just raiding, Bull, that’s war.”

  Bull grunted and shot Taran another glance. The Journeyman went cold; he was sure he knew the reason for these terrible attacks but had kept quiet too long to simply blurt it out.

  They were nearly at Bull’s rooms. Suddenly Taran realized that the man coming toward them was the sour young captain from the commons last night. He was flanked by the two men who’d been sitting with him.

  Robin scowled. “Damn it, it’s Parren. Just what I don’t need.”

  Taran saw the warning glance Bull threw Robin but the sour man was too close for any cautionary words.

  Parren halted before them, pointedly eyeing Robin’s sweat-stained clothing. His own leathers were immaculate.

  With a sneer, he said, “You look a little disheveled, Tamsen, if you don’t mind me saying.”

  “I do mind, Parren. You’d look disheveled if you’d just gone three rounds with Major Sullyan. Not that you’d last that long.”

  Parren’s flat eyes narrowed. “And how is the Queen of Darkness today, still suffering nobly? Surely a fine young man like you could think of a way to take her mind off it? No? Then perhaps I should give you a few tips. Or maybe they would be wasted. Word is, you’re just not up to it.”

  His two companions sniggered.

  Robin went white. Unobtrusively, Taran gestured for Rienne and Cal to step away.

  “You keep your filthy comments to yourself,” the Captain snarled. “How dare you talk about the Major like that? You wouldn’t have the courage to say it to her face, you treacherous snake.”

  “Calm down, Robin,” hissed Bull, but he was too late.

  “Did you just call me a coward, Tamsen?” drawled Parren. “I’d say that was slandering an officer’s character. That’s a calling-out offense.”

  “Come on, Parren, you’re going too far,” said Bull, moving between the furious Robin and the arrogantly smiling Parren. “You goaded him.”

  “Keep out of this, old man,” spat one of Parren’s men. Taran noticed his corporal’s insignia. “You might get called out, too.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” snapped Bull. The threat in his eyes quelled the corporal but Parren wasn’t done.

  “What’s the matter, Tamsen? Sending your lap dog to fight your battles for you? Not so cocky, are you, when you’ve no skirts to hide behind?”

  Taran saw Parren’s other companion, a sergeant, make an obscene gesture, implying Robin’s lack of manhood. His mate sniggered again.

  Two spots of color flamed dangerously in Robin’s cheeks. “I’m not afraid of you, Parren, I never have been. If you want to settle this, I’m perfectly willing.”

  “Heard and witnessed,” said the corporal.

  Bull groaned and shook his head. “Oh, you young idiot. You had to let him get to you, didn’t you? All that control gone to waste.”

  “He’s had it coming, Bull, and I’ve had enough of his foul remarks.” Robin glared at Parren. “Name your time.”

  The sallow man glanced out the window, a smirk on his lips.

  “Two hours, Tamsen,” he drawled. “I’ll give you that much time to rest. Wouldn’t want to take unfair advantage after you’ve been, ah … sparring … with a woman.”

  He sauntered off, his two men swaggering behind. The corporal turned and leered at Rienne while the sergeant made another obscene gesture. Its import was unmistakable and Rienne shuddered. Taran drew her away.

  The silence was strained by the time they reached Robin’s rooms.

  “I must freshen up before I give Dexter his orders,” he said. “Can’t go like this.” He cast a glance at Bull, who was glowering. “Well? Are you going to second me this afternoon or not?”

  “Yes of course I am,” said Bull. “Someone has to sweep up the bits when you are done with them. Just make sure the Major doesn’t hear of this. She’d slice off your nuts and feed ’em to the rats if she knew.”

  “If Parren doesn’t do it first,” said Robin. He disappeared into his room.

  Bull led the way into his suite. Shutting the door firmly, he leaned against it and stared at Taran. The Journeyman thought he knew what was coming, and he was right.

  “You know more than you’ve let on about why there are suddenly Andaryan raiders overrunning the southlands,” growled Bull. “Use the washroom, freshen up and change your clothes. Then I want some answers and I warn you, Journeyman, I’m in no mood for evasions. I’ve just seen enough of that to last me a lifetime. Now go wash and think very carefully before you come out.”

  Dismissed like a naughty child, Taran did as he was told. He was perfectly ready to tell the whole story. The entire affair felt like it was quite out of hand and he needed to know that someone in authority—someone with the power to act—knew all the facts. He wasn’t going to enjoy the experience, though.

  When he emerged wearing a clean shirt and breeches, he saw that Bull, Cal and Rienne were all seated around the fire. His two friends had closed expressions on their faces and Taran regretted leaving them alone with the implacable Bulldog.

  The big man hooked a chair over with his foot and imperiously waved Taran into it.

  “Sit,” he ordered, “and talk.”

  Twenty minutes later, he was outraged.

  “You killed him?” he roared, leaning forward. “You actually killed an Andaryan noble? Oh, you bloody fool, what on Earth did you do that for? Who was he? Tell me his name.”

  Taran flushed. “I don’t know,” he said, “we weren’t introduced. It happened so fast. I was trapped into accepting the challenge, Bull. I had no intention of killing him or desire to, but he was obviously bent on destroying me and they weren’t going to honor the contract. What choice did I have?”

  “What choice? What choice? You bloody idiot, if you’d followed the correct procedure, taken a second as witness, and put all the proper restraints on them, they had have had to honor the contract. You’re supposed to be a Journeyman, don’t you know anything?”

  Suddenly overwhelmed by guilt, fear and embarrassment, Taran snapped. Years of struggling to teach himself, years of pain and frustration, failure and danger, boiled to the surface. He jumped to his feet, startling Bull, and his eyes blazed as power surged within him.

  “It’s all very well for you sit in judgment,” he yelled, “you’ve had it easy. All this experience and guidance around you. All the support you could possibly want. You have no idea what it’s been like for me. No idea how hard I’ve had to struggle to gain the least bit of knowledge, squeezed by dint of my own sweat and hardship year after year. I should be Adept at least by now, if not Adept-elite, but what chance do I have? How can I possibly achieve my potential? How can I satisfy this thirst for knowledge and control?”

  Fatigue washed over him and he sat heavily. With his arms resting on his knees, he hung his head.

  “I know I’ve been foolish. I wish to heaven I could undo it. I’m sure it’s because of me that those poor people in the south have lost their homes and maybe their lives. But done is done and can’t be undone. I have to live with that.”

  Hearing Bull shift, he raised his head. The big man was giving him an evaluating look.

  “Yes,” he said, “we all will. Let’s just hope we can.”

  He rose and crossed to the table, where the bottle of fiery liquor sat. He poured a shot into a glass and passed it to Taran.

  “I’m sorry, Journeyman. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so harsh with you. You’re right, it is easy to forget how fortunate we are and I sympathize with anyo
ne who has talent but no way of refining it. If it’s any consolation, I can tell you that you’ve impressed the Major. Knowing her, she’ll be keen to see you advance.”

  Taran was astonished. “The Major is impressed with me?”

  Bull smiled. “Oh, yes. That little episode in the arena earlier proved it. She hasn’t tested anyone but Robin for a long while now and that alone speaks volumes for her interest. I don’t know what it is about you, but mark my words. She’ll not see talent like yours go to waste.”

  Before Taran could take this in or reply, Bull glanced out the window.

  “We’ll have to leave it there for now, I have this ridiculous duel to witness. You’ll get the chance to go over it again tonight when we meet in the Major’s rooms.”

  He paused, including Cal and Rienne in his gaze.

  “I’ll warn you now to be on your best behavior. This is a very rare occurrence and you’re all very privileged. The Major guards her free time jealously, but she obviously thinks a lot of you. Just mind your manners.

  “Now, I really must go and make sure our idiot Captain comes out of this with all his bits intact.”

  A thought seemed to strike him. “It might be wise of me to arrange independent witnesses to this. I’ve known Parren a long while and I don’t trust him. I wouldn’t put it past him to try something underhanded. If I showed you where to wait, would you be willing to watch for us in case it goes amiss? I can hardly claim impartiality if it goes to a martial court.”

  Taran glanced at the others. “Of course we will. You don’t really think it’ll go that far, do you?”

  “It could. Who knows with that reptile Parren? We’d better get going or I’ll be late and that won’t improve Robin’s chances. I just hope to the gods the Major doesn’t get wind of this or she’ll have his balls. Oh, pardon me,” he said, glancing at Rienne.

  She smiled. “Don’t mind me, I’m a healer, remember? I’ve probably seen more balls than you’ve had hot baths.”

  He snorted. “Yes, you probably have. I just hope we don’t need your skills before the day is out. Let’s get you hidden and then I can go and support Robin.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Bull led them up a trail through the woods. It wound for some way before he slowed. The afternoon sun was beginning to lose its warmth and the light was dimming as he showed them a stand of shrubs where they could hide. Judging by the footprints on the ground, they weren’t the first to use this vantage.

  “Don’t reveal yourselves while Parren and his second are here, no matter what happens,” Bull warned them. “Once it’s over and they’re gone, I’ll call you and we can all go back together. Hopefully, Robin will beat him quickly, but if it looks like there might be trouble, let us handle it. Your impartiality will be compromised if you try to help.”

  He left them and they made themselves as comfortable as they could in the fading light. Soon Taran heard voices and then Captain Parren and his two men came into sight.

  He saw Bull step forward. “What’s this, Parren? Only one second is permitted, you know the rules.”

  “Yes, but we’re not exactly conducting this under military law, are we, old man? If you want to complain to Blaine, go right ahead.”

  Bull snorted and Taran knew there was nothing he could do.

  “So where’s our young witch-lover?” purred Parren. “Not lost his nerve, I trust?”

  Bull balled his fists but answered calmly. “Turn around, Parren.”

  Obviously expecting deceit, the sallow Captain swung around. Robin was standing behind him, having come soundlessly—and more to the point, solitarily—up the track.

  Taran smiled, thinking, Score one to our side.

  Parren however, was not impressed. “Hah. Trying to sneak up like a thief, were we?”

  “If I had been, do you think Bull would have alerted you?” said Robin lazily. “I could have run you through already.”

  “You don’t have the nerve,” spat Parren.

  “I don’t have the need,” said Robin.

  Taran was pleased to see the young man had himself fully under control and admired the relaxed way he leaned on the pommel of his sword. He looked down as Rienne anxiously nudged him; she had seen the gleam of steel. She had probably been hoping they would use blunted dueling foils, he thought, but it seemed they both meant real business.

  He watched as Parren’s corporal stepped forward and handed the thin Captain his weapon. Parren hefted it, testing its balance. He made a few fancy passes in the air, a show obviously meant to unsettle his opponent. Robin, Taran was pleased to see, ignored him.

  Bull stepped up to the corporal to formalize the rules but Parren interrupted.

  “There’s no need for that. I propose we fight until one of us yields. Far more satisfying, don’t you agree, Tamsen? Or are you afraid you can’t outlast me?”

  “Don’t agree to that,” said Bull.

  Robin looked Parren over, as if measuring his strength and skill. “Oh, I don’t think I have anything to worry about. This scrawny little weasel has no muscle except where his brains should be. He won’t give me any trouble.”

  Bull rolled his eyes but Parren’s corporal said, “Heard and witnessed,” and that settled it.

  Taran glanced over to where Parren’s sergeant was lounging against a tree. His casual posture bothered the Journeyman for some reason but he couldn’t put his finger on it. The man was doing nothing overtly suspicious.

  Robin and Parren faced each other and Taran switched his attention back. Bull and the corporal stepped away to give the combatants space. Robin looked relaxed and under control but Parren was like a coiled spring, his thin frame tense and alert.

  Robin began the salute but Parren immediately seized the advantage by lunging at Robin’s breast. Taran gasped. The noble he’d killed had used exactly the same treacherous tactic.

  “Foul!” roared Bull as Robin barely brought his weapon around in time to parry the stroke. Parren took no notice and Robin, realizing his opponent wasn’t going to play by any rules except his own, threw himself into the fight.

  It was immediately clear to Taran that both men were highly skilled. Despite their ferocity, their deadly moves looked like a dance as they countered and attacked each other with consummate ease. Two or three times they came together with locked wrist guards, but always sprang apart again to renew the attack. Taran, trained in swordplay, could follow the moves and appreciate the skill involved, but he heard Rienne gasp at every stroke. She was watching from a healer’s viewpoint, he supposed, seeing each contact as a wound.

  Despite the fading light, the combatants were soon sweating and panting. They were so evenly matched that it would likely come down to physical endurance, unless one of them made a mistake.

  Taran felt Cal nudge his arm. Following his Apprentice’s nod, he looked at Parren’s sergeant, immediately seeing the man’s furtive behavior. Instead of following the fight as the corporal was doing, this man kept throwing glances over his shoulder, as if waiting for something. His gaze seemed centered on the area behind Bull and in another moment, Taran saw why.

  He drew in a shocked breath; a third man was creeping through the trees toward Bull. There was a knife in his hand and Taran stared at Bull, desperately hoping the big man would realize he was being ambushed. But Bull’s attention was fully occupied, trying to watch both Parren and his two seconds at the same time. Clearly, the possibility of a third man hadn’t occurred to him.