The Queen's Blade IV - Sacred Knight of the Veil

by T C Southwell

  "What do you see in that town?"

  Sir Raylin perused the village. "Nothing peculiar. It's a bit busy... for a country hamlet."

  Blade nodded. "Very busy. I will wager that if we got closer, we would see that most of those people are men, soldiers to be exact."

  "A visiting company?"

  "Yes, but not ours."

  "What makes you say that?"

  Blade shrugged. "Just a feeling. Can we detour around it?"

  "Not with the coach, there's no road."

  Blade glanced at the forest that bordered the road on both sides. As he did, he noticed a group of horsemen leaving the town and heading towards them at a trot. Evidently they had spotted the carriage, and were coming to investigate. He was certain they were Cotti, and equally sure they would not be as easily duped as the guards in Jondar. Sir Raylin took a small telescope from his pocket and peered through it.

  "You're right, they're Cotti. Dog soldiers."

  Blade's blood ran cold, and he turned to one of the other Knights. "You, get off, now."

  The man looked puzzled, but obeyed as Blade strode to the carriage. He reached in and gripped the Queen's wrist, hauled her from the coach and pulled her towards the horse.

  "Get on, hurry!"

  Kerra scrambled aboard the big grey with his help, and he ran back to the coach to pull his bundle of clothes from under the seat and grab his crossbow. He marched over to one of the other Knights, who dismounted before he was told. Blade stuffed his bundle into the saddlebag and mounted, turning to Sir Raylin.

  "This is where we part company. My thanks for your escort."

  Sir Raylin frowned. "They will see you leave, Sir Conash."

  "That cannot be helped."

  "You're on the run from the Cotti?"

  "Yes, and we must go."

  Blade turned his horse and spurred it into a gallop, heading for the nearest trees. A glance back assured him that the Queen followed, riding competently, and the two mounted Knights gave chase. Blade had never liked riding, and galloping through dangerous terrain was his least favourite method. He plunged into the woods, the thunder of his mount's hooves becoming muffled by the thick carpet of leaves.

  Tree trunks flashed past within finger-breadths of his legs, and branches lashed him. Kerra suffered the same fate, her hood blown back and her hair streaming in the wind. The two Knights who followed certainly knew who she was now, but it did not matter anymore, he had given away the secret when he fled the Cotti. The distant baying of dogs told him that the soldiers gave chase, and he urged his horse through a rocky stream bed with little regard for the danger.

  The baying grew closer despite the furious pace he set, and when he glanced back the two Knights were gone. Kerra crouched over her horse's neck, her face pale with terror at their breakneck gallop through the forest. At this pace, one slip or stumble could result in the death of rider and mount. He disliked being responsible for her safety, and he wondered if Chiana had contemplated how dangerous this little adventure could become when she had asked him to take the Queen into hiding. There were some things even he could not guard against.

  Coalwood trees flashed past in a blur, and the horses' hooves kicked up clods of earth behind them as they swerved amongst the trunks and jumped fallen logs. Blade had never been a particularly good rider, and now he was forced to cling to the pommel as he was jerked and bounced in the saddle. He glanced back again, but the forest behind them remained empty.

  The Knights had undoubtedly gone back to try to delay the Cotti, and he wished them luck, but did not think that they would succeed. Moments later, a shrill yelping echoed through the woods, and, despite himself, he cringed inwardly. Unwritten law forbade killing familiars, and few people had the stomach to do it. The Cotti had killed his wood cat when they had raided his village, slaughtered his parents and enslaved him and his siblings. The memory of that agony still haunted him. None of the Knights had familiars, and he guessed that they had been slain in battle, which explained the Knights' dour, reserved manner.

  They hardly even spoke to each other, so he was not being given the cold shoulder, and nor was he a talkative person himself. It seemed that losing a familiar caused this withdrawal. It was probably also the reason that they had given up all their worldly possessions and their manhood to become Knights of the Veil. Knights were known for tackling the most dangerous jobs and fighting impossible battles. They cared nothing for their lives, which was what made them so dangerous. They also, it seemed, thought nothing of killing familiars, since they had none of their own.

  The yelping stopped, and he knew that the Cotti had recalled their dogs before too many were injured or slain. It bought them a little time, and might split the pursuers if the Knights chose to lead them away, for the Cotti would want to punish those who had harmed their dogs. Those with injured dogs would be forced to give up the chase to tend to their familiars, and if any had been killed, their human companions would now be suffering the coma that the bereft fell into after the death of their familiar. They too would be out of the chase, and would be useless for several tendays until they recovered.

  The tactic was a good one, although he did not particularly approve of it. He had always tried to avoid killing familiars, although most of the beasts died when their human companions did. In such a dire situation, however, he welcomed any help. He ducked under a branch and was yanked sideways as his horse narrowly avoided colliding with yet another tree, the bark brushing his leg. The danger of a misstep increased as the horses tired, and his was starting to blow. He needed something to throw the pursuers off the scent, for the dogs would track them relentlessly.

  As if sent by providence, a stream appeared through the trees ahead, and he guided his horse into it, heading upstream. The sound of baying was distant now, and his tactic would further split the Cotti as they were forced to search in both directions when they reached the stream. He glanced back at the pale, wide-eyed girl, slowing his horse to a trot to rest it a little.

  A few leagues further on, he left the stream and headed south again, urging his horse into a canter. They came across a broad meadow and left a trail across it that any fool could follow before entering another belt of woodland on the far side. No sound came from behind now, but that did not mean their pursuers had gone, only that the Cotti had silenced their dogs. This was supposed to make him think he had shaken the soldiers off, so he would slow down. Blade kept going at a canter, hoping for a town in which to lose himself and his charge.

  By dusk, the horses stumbled with fatigue, and he had no choice but to let them rest. He slowed to a walk, allowing the animals to cool down before stopping. They travelled through an ancient, gloomy forest whose enormous ironwood trees towered above them, bright ferns growing amongst their roots. Birdsong echoed through their ranks, and the leafy roof formed vast living halls filled with burgeoning life.

  Night's chill invaded the sweet air, cutting through his clothes. Soon it became too dark to continue, and he stopped, sliding from his horse with a sigh. The abused portions of his anatomy ached, while the Queen dismounted with far greater ease. He tied the horses to a tree and loosened their girths, then rummaged through the saddle bags in the hope of finding food. Coming away with a little journey bread and a wine skin, he settled down with his back against a tree.

  Kerra squatted in front of him, her eyes darting between the massive trunks, trying to pierce the darkness. He offered her the wine, and she took a swig, grimaced and handed it back. It was young, admittedly, but it was better than water.

  She asked, "Where are we?"

  He shrugged. "No idea."

  "You are lost?"

  "We are lost."

  Kerra sank down on the damp leaves, a picture of misery. "What are we going to do?"

  "Well, we are not going to start blubbering, for one thing."

  "I was not!"

  "The waterworks were on the way, mark my words. If you are going to be a queen, you will have to learn to be stro
ng, and not burst into tears at the first setback."

  "I am a queen, and I was not tearful! And this is more than a mere setback, it is a disaster."

  Blade took a long swig of wine. "It is an inconvenience, nothing more. Without proof that they are pursuing the right quarry, I think the Cotti will be more inclined to chase the Knights who harmed their dogs."

  Her eyes narrowed. "You are lying, trying to placate me. They know that a woman left Jondar unseen, and we fled their approach. They cannot be such fools."

  Blade chuckled. "I would not call you a woman, Kerra, and do not overestimate the Cotti. Chances are, these soldiers do not know about our disguise. Those two idiots in Jondar probably did as I recommended and kept quiet. Furthermore, you should be more certain before you accuse me of lying, it is not polite."

  "I am certain. They would have given up much sooner if they had not known who I was."

  He shook his head. "There is little a Cotti loves better than a good hunt, especially with human quarry at its end."

  "I see why Chiana finds you so infuriating. Even when you are caught lying, you defend it with even bigger lies."

  "You should never admit to lying, even when you are caught at it," he admonished. "Remember that when you rule one day."

  "I do not tell lies!"

  "Then you had better learn."

  She snorted. "Why should I?"

  "Because the best way to trip up a deceitful person is to tell lies of your own."

  "I would never stoop to such a thing."

  Blade took another swig from the wine skin. "If you suspect a lord of lying to you, you should pretend to believe him, then send your spies to learn the truth."

  "Why?"

  "Because if you tell him you know he is lying, he will hide the evidence or kill your spies. Without proof, you will not be able to bring him to justice."

  She pondered this, looking doubtful. "Now you are trying to distract me from our situation."

  Blade sighed. "And I had almost succeeded. Here is another tip. Do not accuse someone of lying if you are dependent upon them for your safety."

  "But you were!"

  "Not really. We do not know what they know, or who they are chasing now. They may have given up, and I certainly hope they have. But even if they have not, their horses are just as tired as ours, and it is too dark to travel, so relax."

  She shivered, rubbing her arms. "How are we going to find our way out of this forest?"

  "I am no woodsman, but I think if we keep heading in the same direction we will reach the end of it sooner or later."

  "Where do you plan to go now?"

  He gazed into the darkness. "I think Endor has forced Kerrion to send troops to aid in the search. That is why they were ahead of us. We need to find a big city to hide in."

  "So it was not such a good idea to head south."

  "If we had gone north, we would have been penned in from behind and to the west as Endor's men came in from Contara, with nowhere to run to except the frozen wastelands. We would have been forced to turn east into the marshlands of the mud people."

  "So where will we go now?"

  Blade plugged the wine skin and set it down. "I do not like making plans, they always go astray. We find the end of the forest and see what lies beyond, then decide what to do."

  "You must have some sort of long-term plan."

  "Yes, to keep you out of the hands of the Cotti."

  "How?"

  He shrugged. "Keep running and hiding. Hopefully we will eventually find a place or a disguise that will keep you safe for a while."

  Kerra sighed, looking disconsolate. "I hope my father finds his wife soon."

  "So do I, and I am glad you are no longer hoping for her death."

  "That is a strange thing for you to say, who claim to care for nothing and nobody."

  Blade smiled. "Chiana again, I suppose. I do not, of course, but you should, since you will one day be a queen."

  "Caring for people only makes us vulnerable, like my father is now. If he did not care for his wife, he would not have this problem."

  "True. But a ruler who cares nothing for her people will incur their wrath and ultimately lose her throne. Either that, or be forced to rule by fear and bloodshed."

  Kerra shivered again, pulling her robe closer. "Could you light a fire?"

  "No. I am not stupid enough to set a beacon for everyone to see. And you should take that robe off, it is white. I am going to change. Eat something."

  Blade offered her the journey bread, but she shook her head. He rose and went over to his horse, pulled his bundle from the saddlebag, then went into the trees to change. When he returned, he was once more clad in his black leather clothes, and almost invisible in the gloom. He ordered her to remove the robe, under which she still wore the dark riding habit from the palace.

  Kerra insisted that she was cold, and wrapped the garment around herself, which defeated the whole exercise, but by then Blade was tired of arguing with her. He spread the Knight's uniform out on the ground and lay down on it, closing his eyes. After a few minutes the Queen followed suit, and he listened to the forest's night sounds, mingled with an occasional snort or stamp from the horses.

  Chapter Eleven

  Blade woke with a start, instantly alert. Whenever he jerked awake, there was always something wrong, and he listened for an alien sound. It came sooner than he expected; the soft, stealthy rustle of a footstep. Someone or something was creeping up on them. He rolled onto his stomach to watch the horses. Their ears were keener than his, and they could scent a predator's approach. They stood with their heads raised, but relaxed, each with one hind leg resting on the tip of its hoof. Not a predator then, which only left men. The horses' ears were pricked, and they had turned to face the noise, which gave him a better idea of where it had come from.

  The Knights, if they had survived, would not creep around, and whoever it was knew where they were. That meant they had been tracked here, and that only left dog men. He groped for his crossbow, which was loaded and within reach, then crawled towards the nearest tree and set his back against it. The rustle came again, and he was able to get a more accurate direction. Closing his eyes to block out the distraction of the moon-dappled forest, he concentrated on the noise, finding its location. They were still some distance away, and he pondered his next move, wondering what to do about the Queen. If she awoke to a sudden ruckus, she may well scream or run about in a panic, getting in his way.

  Easing himself away from the tree, he crossed the short distance to her huddled form and clamped a hand over her mouth. She woke with a gasp, and he leant down to whisper, "Be silent. Move slowly."

  Blade pulled her to her feet and led her to the horses, hoping the sound of her footsteps would be interpreted as the horses shifting around. The horses obliged by stamping and snorting, which might be perceived as a disturbance or merely a normal part of their sleep cycle. He tightened their girths, then untied the reins and pressed them into her hands. She gazed at him, her eyes wide with trepidation. All she had to do was prevent the beasts from bolting, for there was no point in her fleeing if he was captured or killed.

  Leaving her shivering, he crept back to the campsite and stood against the tree again, blending into the shadowy trunk. He strained his ears to make out the soldiers' location, finding them a little closer. They proceeded with extreme caution, hoping to surprise their quarry, but sneaking up on an assassin was impossible, especially for heavy footed soldiers. He would have sensed their presence even if they had made no sound at all.

  A faint panting whispered in the hush, and he orientated himself on the sound. The crossbow was good for only one shot, since it took too long to reload, so he had to make it count. He waited for the shadowy form to reveal itself, the crossbow aimed at the source of the sounds. It seemed like an age that he stood motionless, his finger poised on the trigger. He had learnt patience in the first year of his training, however, and the wait did not impair his concentration. />
  When the first glimpse of movement broke the gloomy stillness, his eyes followed it, and he squeezed the trigger. The twang of the crossbow's string was followed by a brief hiss and a thud. A harsh grunt broke the forest's hush, and the darkness disgorged its secrets in a rush of thudding feet and growling dogs. Blade dropped the crossbow and drew the daggers from his belt, his hands cocked to throw. As soon as a running form became visible, he flicked a dagger at it, and it collapsed with a grunt.

  Another man fell to his second dagger, and he drew the two from his boots, hurling them at the soldiers who ran towards him with drawn swords. Two more fell, one rolling and howling, impaled in the gut. Blade drew his last two daggers from the wrist sheaths as the four remaining attackers flung themselves at him. A dog sprang at his thigh, and he sent it rolling with a kick. A man lunged at him, his sword outstretched, and Blade swayed aside, slashing open the Cotti's throat. The soldier staggered past, blood pumping from his severed jugular, and Blade faced the one who was already upon him. The Cotti's sword scythed towards the assassin's neck, and his dog leapt at Blade's midriff.

  Blade ducked, lunging under the man's arm to plunge a dagger into his ribs, and stabbed the dog in the neck with the weapon in his left hand. The animal fell yelping, and Cotti recoiled with a cry, dropping his sword. The last pair halted and eyed him, swords ready. A brace of growling war dogs stood behind them, ears pricked. The other dogs lay beside their dead bondsmen, whined and tried to rouse them by licking their faces or tugging at their clothes, pawing at them pitifully.

  The men sidled away from each other, trying to flank the assassin, and he stepped back against the tree once more. These two now knew he was not easy prey, and took the time to plan their attack. Cotti usually employed a mass attack strategy, overpowering their foes through sheer force of numbers, but it had not been effective against him because he had thinned their numbers so drastically before they had reached him.