Scrivener's Tale

by Fiona McIntosh

  The monks tending the fields nearby waved to the quartet as they rode their horses slowly up the road leading to the main courtyard of the monastery. Florentyna smiled as she lifted her hand, enjoying the anonymity and admiring the monks’ toil on the hard earth, still untilled from the winter gone; with thaw almost finished they were preparing to nourish the soil.

  ‘What do they grow here?’ she asked absently.

  ‘What don’t they grow, majesty, is more to the point,’ Felyx replied. ‘Rittylworth is self-sufficient and it also provides generously for the less fortunate in the surrounding hamlets. Brother Hoolyn is a firm believer in the high monastic way, whereas some leaders of the monastery in the recent past had allowed the old rules to slacken.’

  ‘Don’t expect rich pickings for a midday meal, you mean?’ Florentyna jested.

  ‘A broth if you’re fortunate, majesty, especially as they have no idea that the most important guest they could imagine is strolling her horse up their path.’

  ‘I haven’t felt such freedom in many moons.’ The senior soldier laughed. ‘You know, Felyx,’ Florentyna mused, ‘I’m really enjoying seeing you so relaxed as well. I can’t remember when I last saw you laugh.’

  He shifted in his saddle to regard her sheepishly. ‘Yes, majesty, forgive me. I have certainly been a grouchy soul of late. Being out here amongst the real life of Morgravia has —’

  Felyx never finished his sentence. The arrow took him through the back of the neck. Florentyna watched with horror as the arrowhead exploded through Felyx’s throat, felling him as he grinned at her. The remaining soldiers reacted swiftly, flinging themselves from their horses towards her. She felt herself being thrown back as the sound of another arrow whizzed from afar to land harmlessly in the field just beyond.

  Yells erupted and monks came running as a third arrow sang its horrible song through the air.

  One of the guards held her down. ‘Don’t move!’ he growled, forgetting all protocol. ‘Erle? Erle?’

  Erle lay dead with an arrow in his back, they soon realised.

  Without further discussion, the remaining soldier dragged Florentyna back to her feet but kept his huge frame covering her. Monks had arrived, looking at them aghast.

  ‘What has happened here?’ one of them said uselessly.

  ‘Behind the horse,’ the soldier growled to the queen, ignoring those clustering around them. ‘Use it for cover.’

  ‘I understand,’ she said, not sure where her calm was coming from.

  ‘Right, on my mark, we move. Carefully.’ She nodded, knowing she looked fearful but he gave her a reassuring nod. ‘I shall get you there safely, your majesty, even if it means taking a full quiver of arrows in my body.’ And with little pause, he said, ‘Now.’

  With monks’ cassocks fluttering around the horse, which also hid Florentyna, the soldier she knew to be called Brom led her slowly but steadily up the path. No more arrows landed, but two good men lay in their wake.

  Brother Hoolyn had come to see what the commotion was about.

  ‘Men are dead, these people are being attacked,’ one of the elder monks exclaimed.

  Others nodded mutely, pointing to the bodies. Hoolyn, shocked, but acting quickly and decisively, ushered them into the cover of the cloisters. Without tarrying for questions, he hurried them swiftly through corridors, up stairways and along tiny passages until they were high in the gods of the new bell tower of Rittylworth Monastery.

  The older man looked at them both with incomprehension, but as they were breathing hard, he waited a moment or two for each of them to catch their breath.

  Finally, he asked the inevitable. ‘Now tell me, who has brought these deaths to a peaceful house of Shar?’

  They both shook their heads mutely. Brom spoke first. ‘Brother, we have no idea who has attacked. We are as shocked as you. Those were my fellow soldiers killed. My friends.’

  ‘Soldiers? Shar’s breath. Who are you?’

  Florentyna pulled her hood down. ‘Brother Hoolyn, forgive us bringing fear to the monastery. Brom tells you the truth. We have no idea who has attacked us. But to answer your question, I am Florentyna.’ She gave a sad shrug. ‘The queen.’

  He stared at her in astonishment. ‘Queen Florentyna,’ he repeated as if he hadn’t heard right. ‘Of Morgravia?’ he qualified.

  ‘I’m afraid so, Brother,’ she admitted with a wan half-smile.

  He put a hand against his chest, as though his heart had skipped a beat. ‘And we weren’t told?’

  ‘I have come to see the dowager.’

  ‘Why the secrecy?’ he demanded, forgetting himself.

  ‘It had to be so. Again, forgive me,’ Florentyna said, ignoring his improper tone.

  ‘Wait, how can I be sure you are her majesty?’ Hoolyn queried, looking between them cautiously.

  Brom seemed as though he was ready to knock the man senseless, but Florentyna gave him a glance of caution. ‘Of course.’ She reached beneath her cloak and drew out the chain she wore around her neck, from which hung her father’s ring. It bore the dragon insignia of the royal crest of Morgravia. She was supposed to wear the ring, but it was an entirely impractical size and shape for a woman’s hand; the chain had been cast in matching gold and she could still wear it at all times.

  Hoolyn leaned in to stare at the ring and gave a gasp of fresh fear as he bowed low. ‘Your majesty, please forgive me. I don’t know that you are safe, however. We must assess the situation.’ He kept staring at her as though he wanted to pinch himself.

  She touched his arm and smiled as she looked back to her companion. ‘Brom, we must see to our friends immediately. What if they appear dead, but perhaps are only wounded? Felyx …’ She gave a sound of soft anguish. ‘We were laughing …’ She gathered her wits, knowing she mustn’t lose any control now. Florentyna took a deep breath and looked at the head monk. ‘We have travelled in complete secret, Brother Hoolyn, so someone has clearly been following us, or has been told where to find us.’

  ‘Who knew you were coming?’ he asked.

  ‘Brom, anyone else other than Felyx and Erle from your side?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, majesty. Felyx swore us to secrecy. We weren’t even allowed to give any clue that we were leaving the barracks. He gave orders for us to do some chores that took us away from the palace. Others think we’ve gone to check on some new horses that the royal stables have purchased.’

  ‘Yes, I knew he’d be careful. So that leaves only my side. The only person who knows I was departing the palace was Burrage and I trust him with my life.’

  ‘Felyx wouldn’t —’ Brom began.

  ‘No, absolutely, he wouldn’t. I have complete faith in him.’

  ‘Your majesty,’ Hoolyn interrupted, ‘if I may, right now I’d suggest we worry about keeping you safe rather than who is behind this. Brom, is it?’ he said to her companion.

  ‘It is,’ Brom replied.

  ‘Well, none of us can protect our queen as well as you can. This tower is hard to reach and arguably the safest spot.’

  ‘We have good vision from here too,’ Brom agreed, prowling around the four window openings.

  Hoolyn nodded. ‘Please, if you would, stay here with her majesty, and I will go to assess the situation.’

  They waited impatiently as he sped off.

  ‘Brom?’

  ‘They’re both dead, majesty. Don’t hold any hope.’

  She swallowed. Poor Felyx. ‘How many do you think?’

  ‘It felt like an army at the time but it would only take a couple of men with the vantage of high ground.’

  ‘Were they just highwaymen, do you think, a random attack on a noble party?’

  His mouth twisted as he thought about this, but not for very long. ‘I doubt it. They were too accurate. Good archers. Well trained. No doubt excellent weapons for that range.’

  She knew he was right, but not for any of those reasons. ‘The arrow that killed Felyx was meant for me. If he’d not le
aned forward in his saddle at that moment, the arrowhead would have been in my eye, not his throat.’

  ‘Don’t think like that,’ he said quietly.

  ‘I have to, Brom. Someone wants me dead. Professional archers were paid to ambush us. They knew precisely where we’d be when only less than a handful of us knew about this.’

  ‘It could be anyone, majesty.’

  ‘Yes, but it has to be someone with enough of a gripe and a sufficient purse to be able to pull off something like this.’

  Brom conceded this with a slow nod. He turned to check the windows again. ‘Felyx and Erle haven’t moved.’

  ‘Don’t look at them.’

  Hoolyn was back, this time with an angry dowager trailing up the stairs. She didn’t give anyone a chance to speak.

  ‘You!’ she sneered. ‘So you thought you could have me assassinated, did you?’

  Florentyna’s mouth opened but she didn’t respond. The notion hadn’t occurred to her that the attackers weren’t meant for them. ‘Greetings, Saria,’ she began, pleased to see her father’s widow looking plumper than she recalled and wheezing slightly from her efforts. ‘We did not bring these men. They were firing directly on us.’

  ‘Probably because they thought you were me!’ she snapped, but a lot of her fire had burned out from the climb up the tower. ‘Why are you here?’

  ‘I thought we needed to talk … about Darcelle’s nuptials. You know, mother to daughter.’

  Saria gave a gust of a laugh and there was no warmth in it. ‘Really? Why have you sneaked in, your majesty? Where’s your entourage?’

  ‘Saria, we can have this conversation in private. Right now we have to be sure of our safety.’

  ‘You’re not safe,’ Hoolyn interjected before the dowager could stir the queen’s emotions any further. ‘The attackers were not the least bit interested in the monks who checked on your men. I deeply regret that they are both dead. We can’t tell how many archers there are — at least two, my Brothers think.’

  ‘Only two,’ the queen murmured.

  ‘At least two, majesty,’ Brom cautioned. ‘How do they know this?’

  ‘They’ve had a conversation of sorts, yelling back and forth. They’ve allowed us to bring the dead men into the chapel. They have no gripe with us, apparently … well, not if we give them you, your majesty.’

  Florentyna nodded. Her instincts had been right.

  ‘Are they mad?’ Brom asked. ‘They’re prepared to kill the sovereign.’

  ‘They nearly succeeded,’ Hoolyn remarked. ‘I think we must be mindful that the dowager is in danger too. They wouldn’t know that we have two royals in the monastery.’

  Florentyna tried not to show how she bristled at being compared to Saria, but this was not a time to be sensitive. ‘Of course. If they knew, they might use her as bargaining power.’

  Saria snorted. ‘All the more reason for you to throw me to the dogs, Florentyna. You can use me to divert their attention.’

  ‘Oh, do stop, Saria. I’m already tired of your poisonous tone,’ Florentyna snapped. It helped to have someone to direct her pain towards.

  The men shared an awkward glance.

  ‘Brother Hoolyn, what did these men actually demand?’ she asked, ignoring Saria’s glare.

  ‘They seem to think we’d be prepared to meekly hand you over, your majesty.’

  ‘Or what?’

  ‘Well …’ he began, and then cleared his throat. ‘They will smoke you out. They’re planning a fire for Rittylworth and don’t seem to care if anyone else dies.’ He gave a low sigh. ‘We’ve survived that ravage before and will do so again.’

  ‘That’s not going to happen,’ Florentyna announced. ‘Brom and I will leave. And Saria, we can’t risk them discovering you here or they might use you to bargain with.’ She looked back at Brom and Father Hoolyn. “We’ll take the dowager and our chances in the hills.’

  ‘I’m not leaving,’ Saria assured her. ‘If you’ve got a big target painted on your back, I’m not going anywhere near you outside of these walls.’

  Florentyna threw a snake-eyed glare at Saria. ‘And there I was thinking you wanted to escape the monastic lifestyle, Saria. All right then, take your chances. You’re most welcome to stay if Brother Hoolyn will keep you.’

  ‘No, wait. She might be behind this!’ Brom suddenly boomed.

  ‘What?’ Saria cried. ‘How dare you? I’ll have you lashed just for thinking that, and I’ll have your tongue cut out for saying it!’

  ‘Be quiet, Saria. And that’s a command!’ Florentyna turned to Brom. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘We can’t stay here,’ he said.

  She agreed. ‘So we run? What about the horses?’

  ‘We’ll be slower, but we’ll find it easier to hide and react on foot.’ He looked at the dowager. ‘You’ll have to change into more suitable clothes to go across rough terrain, er … your highness.’

  ‘Let me tell you, soldier, I am not going anywhere today in any change of clothes.’

  Florentyna leaned in close to the Queen Dowager. ‘Get changed, madam, or I’ll have Brom change you himself. You’re coming with us. And you’d want to be quiet about it or you’ll be the one without the tongue. Is that clear?’

  Saria looked at her with such loathing both men stepped back. ‘There’ll be a reckoning for this.’

  ‘You think I’m scared of you, Saria?’ She stared so angrily and intently at the dowager that the older woman took a step back. Florentyna cut a look at her companion. ‘Brom, go with her.’ At his look of worry, she nodded. ‘I’m fine here for the moment. Keep her on her toes and rip that gown off if you have to — you have my permission.’

  Saria glowered at her before giving an indignant growl and turning on her heels. Florentyna looked at Brom and nodded in Saria’s direction as if to tell him to hurry up. Clearly angry, he did as he was told and she could hear him clomping down the stairs behind the dowager.

  ‘Your majesty, I cannot let you leave here without fighting to save you.’

  ‘You are a man of peace, Brother Hoolyn. I do not want you to fight at all.’

  ‘You know what I mean. We must at least protect you with our lives.’

  ‘No. I think we just invite more death. This way we have a chance. We may need a diversion though.’

  ‘Whatever you need is yours.’

  She couldn’t believe she smiled. Here she was about to run for her life and she could grin. She wouldn’t admit to any sense of excitement because that would be plain madness, but there was a rekindling within her of something that had been mute for a long time. She could feel her spirit returning; all that had once made her the person her father was proud of was reawakening. It had been buried and silent since his death and she had felt like an empty shell. Now her life was threatened and she wanted to fight for it, as well as hunt down these murderers.

  ‘Do you have livestock here?’

  ‘Some cows, yes, a few sheep. Some horses too.’

  ‘The cows. Can you perhaps lead them out to pasture or something?’ She gave a shrug, embarrassed by her lack of knowledge of animal husbandry.

  ‘Yes, of course we can.’

  ‘The three of us will steal out with the cows, using them for cover as best we can, just until we can reach the higher ground,’ she said, casting a glance out of the window that faced north.

  ‘Better still, your majesty, you lead the cows out wearing our cassocks. It may just buy some extra time, whether they realise the ploy earlier or later.’

  ‘Excellent idea, Brother Hoolyn. I might leave it to you to let the dowager know about yet another change of clothes.’

  NINETEEN

  Cassien and Ham emerged from the hills that overlooked Rittylworth Monastery from the north.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ Ham sighed. ‘I never thought I’d see the famous monastery.’

  ‘I’m glad we came this way,’ Cassien admitted, ‘I’ve read about Rittylworth in the history books but
to see it is worthwhile, especially …’ His voice trailed off as his sharp gaze picked out a scene that looked altogether wrong. ‘Ham, something’s odd.’

  ‘What?’ he said, following Cassien’s gaze into the distance.

  Cassien squinted. ‘Shar! Those are bodies,’ he exclaimed.

  Ham focused. ‘Two men.’

  Cassien concentrated, trying to make sense of the scene from this distance. ‘Killed with arrows.’

  Ham looked at him. ‘What can that mean?’

  ‘Search me.’ They both stared again. ‘Monks are walking out.’

  They watched in silence now as the dead men were half-dragged, half-carried back into the building.

  ‘What is going on here?’ Cassien wondered aloud.

  ‘What do we do?’

  ‘We wait.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For more to be revealed,’ Cassien decided. ‘We need to get off this rise, though, in case we’re spotted. Come on.’ He jumped off his horse and Ham did the same. ‘Follow me,’ Cassien said, leading them down toward the wooded area that rose up behind Rittylworth. Once beneath the safety of the tree canopy, they tied their horses up. ‘Right, we watch from here. We have a good vantage point,’ he said.

  They waited, neither talking. There was no sign of who had shot the arrows. Finally, they watched several monks re-emerge from the compound, their hands held out before them in a show of surrender. Moments later, another group of monks at the back of the monastery complex let some cattle out of a pen; three of the monks moved with the animals, walking slowly out into the pastures. Behind them, two monks lifted their hands in farewell; one held his fist and shook it earnestly. Cassien frowned. That was a sign of wishing someone good luck.

  He blinked. It didn’t make sense that while an attack was underway the monks would carry on normal activities like taking care of animals. But it was Ham who put into words what was nagging most on the rim of his thoughts.

  ‘Those monks aren’t very good with the cows, are they? The one on the right — the short one — looks scared of them.’

  ‘He does, I agree. And the tallest of them keeps looking around, as though he’s worried at being followed.’ He chewed the inside of his lip. ‘Ham, those aren’t monks. Two of them are tripping over their cassocks. They have small hands, and one has long hair if I’m not mistaken. I think we have two women being pursued.’ He squinted a little, couldn’t see any more action at the front of the monastery. ‘It looks as though we’re going to get involved whether we like it or not, because they’re headed our way.’