The brothers stood in silence, listening to the pounding of the surf as snow billowed around them. Only a w eek earlier neither of them had seen the ocean, and Calard had dreamt of the day w hen he would since he was a child, but this w as not how he had imagined it. He had envisaged blue-green waters sparkling with reflected light and filled with an abundance of life, not the unyielding fury of this isolating w asteland of black, icy water.
'Do w e return to Garamont then, brother?' said Bertelis finally, his voice low.
Calard sighed. He had no w ish to return to his ancestral home and face his responsibilities, but he could not continue to shirk his duties, he knew.
And as much as he hated to admit it, there w as nothing that could be done now to save Lady Elisabet. She w as gone, as w ere the Norscans, across the seas.
'Yes,' he said at last. 'It is time to return home. Ready the men.'
Bertelis nodded and turned to leave when a fanfare of horns began to sound. Calard frow ned. 'What's this?' he said.
They could see men running tow ards the east gate, and they heard shouts of excitement and aw e. The gates w ere opened, and the portcullis raised, and again long fluted horns blared.
'Must be someone important,' said Bertelis, and the brothers began descending the w alls quickly, with no further discussion, joining the crowds that were thronging tow ards the east gate.
REOLUS, HOLY GRAIL knight of the Lady and the epitome of knightly perfection, rode alongside a damsel of the Lady through the rapturous crow d, his head held high.
It seemed that the clouds parted momentarily as the illustrious pair entered Castle Lyonesse amid a fanfare of excitement, and rays of sunlight shone down upon them.
Reolus rode upon a pow erful, jet-black destrier that was easily tw enty hands high, w hile the damsel rode without a saddle upon a smaller dappled grey. The grail knight carried aloft his gleaming silver lance, the famous Arandyal, and bore his helmet under his other arm. His face was expressionless, his features strong and ageless.
The grail knight wore a flowing tabard of regal blue over his gleaming armour, its edges embroidered w ith silver thread. The damsel wore a filmy purple dress, and her hair w as bound up in an elaborate headdress, her face obscured by a silken veil.
A thick cloak, its inside lined with softest mink fur, hung from Reolus's shoulders, and a golden clasp in the shape of the Lady's holy chalice was fastened upon his chest. Only those w ho had supped from the grail were allowed to w ear such emblems, those w ho had come face to face w ith the goddess herself and been found w orthy. The grail knights were the most respected individuals in all of Bretonnia, paragons of virtue and honour w ho w ere beyond reproach.
Calard's breath caught in his throat as he gazed upon the hallowed warrior once again. A palpable holy aura shimmered around Reolus, and his eyes gleamed with the Lady's pow er.
The Duke of Lyonesse was amongst those that spilled out to w itness the grail knight's entrance to his castle, and he bow ed low before Reolus and the damsel of the Lady.
Calard and Bertelis pushed through the crowd to hear his words.
'Lord Reolus and Lady Damsel, I am honoured,' said Duke Adalhard. 'What is mine is yours; I w ill have apartments readied for you immediately. We shall feast this night in your honour!'
Reolus raised a hand, and the cheering that had erupted at the duke's announcement simmered down.
'Your hospitality does you proud, my lord duke,' said Reolus. 'How ever, I fear there are more pressing matters at hand. The Norscans.'
'The Norscans have left,' said the duke with a frow n.
'No,' said the damsel, and Calard jerked as if he had been struck, as he recognised the voice as that of his sister, Anara.
'No, my lady?' questioned Duke Adalhard.
'The Norscans have not left Bretonnian lands,' said Anara, her voice vague and ethereal. 'They are encamped thirty miles westward. They have defiled the temple of the Blessed Lady upon the Isle of Landri, and slaughtered all its priestesses. I can hear their souls crying out in fear even now, denied their eternal rest.'
'The Lady Elisabet?' called out Calard, pushing to the front of the crowd, and he blushed as he felt hundreds of pairs of eyes turn to focus upon him. Anara regarded him as if he w ere a stranger, with no hint of recognition in her eyes.
'She is there,' said Anara finally, 'and it is the will of the Lady that she be reclaimed from the Norscan infidels.'
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CALARD SHIVERED AS the icy w ind whipped across the exposed top of the keep. The pegasus stamped their hooves, clearly unimpressed, and the knights of Parravon stroked their necks, whispering quietly to placate the pow erful steeds. They looked as unhappy as their mounts w ith the arrangement, and Calard felt a knot in his stomach at the prospect of riding one of the temperamental beasts. 'Mount up,' said Laudethaire.
Calard grimaced as Bertelis gave him an excited smile and pulled himself smoothly into the saddle. The pegasus snorted and reared instantly, unfurling and beating its w ings violently in protest at its unfamiliar rider, but Bertelis stayed in the saddle, grinning like a madman, and brought it under control w ith a firm yank on the reins.
Its ears w ere still flat against its head, and it quivered in anger, but it began to settle as its ow ner grabbed it by the bridle and talked to it in a firm, calm voice.
Reolus w as already astride his mount, as stoic as ever, and his pegasus seemed content and relaxed beneath him. Anara ran a hand along the length of the pegasus she w as to ride and it knelt before her, much to the amazement of the Parravonian knights, allowing her to step into the saddle in a dignified manner. She barely seemed to register the strangeness of the situation, lost as she was in an animated discussion with herself.
Calard gazed at the pegasus that he w as to ride and felt his mouth go dry, though he did not for a moment regret insisting that he be part of the rescue. The Parravonians had been resistant, but Reolus had backed Calard's w ish, and his word brooked no argument, even w hen Bertelis demanded that he too accompany the w ar-party.
The w inged steed was a magnificent beast, larger than a Bretonnian warhorse and as w hite as virgin snow. Its mane w as thick, a mix of feathers and hair, and its powerful w ings were held tight against its body, furled like an eagle's. It flashed him an angry look, steam billow ing from its flared nostrils, and he swallowed.
'Frightened, Garamont?' said Maloric smugly from the back of his ow n pegasus.
Calard flashed the Sangasse noble a dark look. He still could not believe that the grail knight Reolus had suggested he accompany them; couldn't the grail knight see that he w as nothing but a treacherous dog?
'Mount her just like a horse,' advised the knight holding the pegasus's reins. 'Get your feet in the stirrups quickly and hold on tight, as she w on't like being ridden by a stranger.'
Calard nodded, blushing as he felt the eyes of his companions upon him, and gripping the pommel with one hand, he placed his left foot in the stirrup and hauled himself into the saddle. The pegasus bucked, throw ing its head around violently, and spun on the spot. Calard had ridden since before he could w alk, and was well used to breaking in rebellious steeds, but never had he ridden a beast as large and pow erful as this, and he struggled to bring her back under his control.
She reared, unfurling and beating her wings, sending snow gusting in eddies before her, and Calard felt himself half-kicked out of the saddle as the pegasus reared and bucked again.
'Whoa!' shouted Calard in w hat he hoped was a firm, authoritative voice, and using his w hole body w eight and the strength in his arm, he pulled the pegasus's head to the right, simultaneously using his right leg to disengage its hind quarters, robbing it of its strength. It snorted and pulled against him, but could do nothing against his practised one rein stop, and it began to calm dow n as it realised its rider w as not inexperienced.
'Damage her mouth and you w ill be paying restitution, Bastonne,' said the Parravonian knight haughtily.
'An
d w hat restitution will you pay if she throws me into the ocean?' muttered Calard in reply.
Having brought the pegasus under control, at least temporarily, Calard looked out over Castle Lyonesse and its surrounds, trying to ignore the knotting of his stomach.
He breathed out evenly, trying to slow his rapidly beating heart.
The keep on which they stood rose higher than any of the castle walls, allowing a clear view across the island fortress and the surrounding sea. It truly w as an impressive defensive structure, and though Calard felt there was a good amount of pride involved in the duke's claim that it w ould never fall by force, he could well believe that fully manned and well provisioned, the castle could hold against an enemy besieger for many months, possibly even years.
Its w alls w ere high and thick, and tow ers topped with immense trebuchets were built at strategic points along its lengths, each one offering good vantage for archers to fire dow n upon anyone trying to scale the sheers walls on either side. Even the smallest of these tow ers w as easily three times the height of any of the tow ers of Castle Garamont - indeed, the entirety of Castle Garamont could be completely enclosed w ithin Castle Lyonesse ten times over.
From his high vantage point, Calard looked over the tightly packed buildings huddled w ithin the castle walls below the keep tow ards Lyonesse harbour. A dozen ships were anchored in the calm waters of the protected cove, inside the protection of the walls.
After the keep itself, the massive gatehouse that covered the entrance to the harbour w as the most defensible part of the stronghold. That arched gatew ay was of such scale that the largest ships of the Bretonnian fleet would be able to sail through it into the harbour w ith room to spare, passing beneath the most immense portcullis Calard had ever seen.
When that portcullis was lowered, he heard tell from the proud local knights, its w eight forced a second portcullis to rise from the rock beneath the water like a counterbalance. These tw o black iron gates, one falling and one rising, w ould meet a few yards under the water, forming an impenetrable barrier.
Calard's eyes drifted aw ay from the harbour tow ards the temple of Manann, positioned on top of the rocky cliffs at the southern tip of the island. He could see the statue of the sea-god staring out to the open sea atop the circular temple, trident in hand and flanked by bizarre beasts that w ere half lion, half fish.
Though the Lady of the Lake w as the official patron deity of the Bretonnian nobility, it w as a fool that w ould not pay his respect to the lord of the ocean when travelling upon - or over - his domain. Calard had already left an offering of gold at that temple earlier that day; the idea of falling from the back of a pegasus into the ocean filled him w ith dread. He knew that if such a thing occurred, the weight of his armour w ould ensure he sank like a stone. The mere thought of the deep sea beasts that Manann ruled, the unnamed, blind and pallid horrors said to dw ell upon the abyssal ocean floor made him shudder w ith horror. He hoped that his offering would see him safely back onto solid land.
'How long w ill it take to reach the island the Norse have desecrated?' asked Reolus.
'An hour, w ith favourable w inds,' replied Laudethaire.
'May the Lady protect you all,' said Tassilo. He stood with the rest of Calard's cousins, Baldemund and Huebald, looking concerned.
Calard nodded and pulled on the reins as his steed began to become agitated.
'It is time that w e w ere gone,' said Reolus, and is if understanding the grail knight's w ords, his pegasus stretched its broad, feathered wings, first to one side then the other, like an eagle readying for the hunt.
Cold fear knotted Calard's stomach again, though as no one else seemed to be show ing any sign of unease, he tried to hide it.
'I've alw ays w anted to fly,' said Bertelis. For a moment he looked again like the excitable young boy he had once been, his eyes alight with adventure, rather than the rather serious, solemn young man he had become since their return from Bordeleaux. Calard felt none of his exuberance, and was clutching his reins tightly, his jaw clenched so hard it hurt.
'For the glory of Parravon, the Lady and the King!' bellowed Laudethaire, raising his lance high.
'For the glory of Laudethaire, more like,' said Maloric under his breath, and had he not been in a mild panic, Calard w ould have grinned despite himself.
'To the air!' cried Laudethaire, and urged his steed tow ards the edge of the battlements.
'Lady protect me,' muttered Calard as the other pegasus broke into a gallop tow ards the edge of the keep. The animal beneath him wanted to join them, and with a flick of the reins and a kick he urged it forward.
The pegasus in front leaped the battlements, w ings beating powerfully. Then Calard's ow n steed w as at the crenulations and he roared wordlessly as it launched into the air.
There was a moment of w eightlessness and Calard felt his stomach rise up into his chest. The sheer walls of the keep fell away and suddenly there w as nothing between him and the ground a hundred yards below but air. For a sickening moment he was certain that he w as about to plunge to his death.
Then the pegasus beat its w ings and they rose into the air, his steed tucking its forelegs beneath it like a leaping horse. With no prompting from Calard, w ho was concentrating on not falling to his death, the pegasus swooped into a banking turn behind the other knights, soaring around the keep. The rush of the w ind made Calard's eyes w ater, and he gaped at the sheer drop below him, clutching at the pommel as he stared in uncomprehending horror down at the buildings at the base of the keep, far below .
They sw ung around to the w est and dipped down tow ards the wall. Flying past one of the great tow ers that guarded the approach from the w estern seas, Calard dimly heard people cheering and saw waving banners, but he w as too busy trying to stay in the saddle to pay them any attention. The pegasus briefly furled its wings, and Calard let out an uncontrolled groan as they hurtled down towards the ground for a moment. Sw ooping dow n low over the western wall, he saw men-at-arm sentries w aving up at them. His eyes goggled as he saw the waves crashing against the jagged rocks far below and then they were out over the ocean, with nothing beneath them but the icy depths, leaving Castle Lyonesse behind them.
Calard realised that he had been holding his breath, and he let it out slow ly, trying to relax. The winds buffeted them, making the pegasus rise and fall in the air unpredictably. Nothing could be seen out in front but the open ocean and storm clouds, w ith the occasional jagged spear of rock rising from the black w ater, and Calard cursed.
He heard a shout, and turned his head to see Bertelis waving at him exuberantly.
Calard ignored him, and turned his head forwards again, staring resolutely out to sea, clinging to the reins with grim determination.
'An hour,' he muttered to himself. Right now that seemed like an eternity.
THE PEGASUS BANKED and began to circle down through the clouds. Calard was frozen, and his whole body w as aching - he had found it impossible to relax in the saddle know ing that he was hundreds of feet above the ocean. He could see nothing through the dank clouds; they might have been a thousand feet up or a dozen.
A gap appeared in the clouds below , and for a brief moment he saw the island that the Norscan had claimed, far below . Calard saw countless figures moving in the light of thousands of fires far below . They looked tiny and insignificant from his vantage, but he knew from experience that each of those figures was a fearless warrior, standing almost a head taller than any Bretonnian. Low fog hung over the ocean, but he could see thousands of longships that had been pulled up upon the beaches of the island. His rage grew as he looked upon the defiled ruin of the chapel to the Lady upon the southern tip of the island.
That chapel seemed to be the focus of the Norscan's revelry, and he heard drunken shouts, roars and booming laughter echoing up from it. It had been gutted by fire, and its roof had caved inw ards in several sections, allowing the billowing snow to fall w ithin.
Then the clouds closed
in, concealing his view and their approach. Like a flock of birds flying together in an arrowhead-like formation, the pegasus swooped down through the clouds, w ith Laudethaire at its apex. Calard had no idea how the knight w as navigating their progress, but he seemed to know w here he was headed. They dropped further through the clouds, Calard leaning back in the saddle as the angle of descent increased, and he felt that they must surely hit the ground or the ocean at any moment.
They broke through the low hanging clouds again, and Calard saw that they had dropped perhaps a hundred and fifty feet. The open ocean w as now beneath them, partially concealed in thick fog. Laudethaire had clearly guided them out to sea, so as to approach the island from an unseen quarter.
Calard sw ore as his pegasus dived, and he hung on grimly. The pegasus dropped like a stone as it entered the thick bank of fog. It sw ooped low, hooves trailing in the icy w ater as it follow ed Laudethaire's lead tow ards the rocky cliffs in front of them.
The sw ell was immense, and Calard's pegasus lifted them higher with a pow erful beat of its w ings as a tow ering wave threatened to engulf them. The beast tossed its head in pleasure as the w ind whipped sea-spray off the top of the waves into them.
'Stupid beast,' spluttered Calard, spitting sea water from his mouth.
The flight of pegasus banked to the east, gliding silently through the fog, heading for a rocky cove. There were no longships beached here, for blade-like rocks pierced the w aters on approach to the small bay, making navigating it safely impossible.
Thankfully, there were no Norscans in sight - this w as clearly an unoccupied area of the island. On the headland, Calard could see the defiled chapel of the Lady, lit daemonically from w ithin by fires.
The flight of pegasus glided into the cove, and they hit the ground running. Calard dragged his steed to a halt. Sw inging a leg over the saddle, he dropped to the ground.
Warhammer - Knight of the Realm Page 16