“Conlan,” Freddie asked tentatively. “Can we move Eleanor now?”
Conlan nodded, making room for them to lay the door down next to her, and offering no comment when Freddie gave Eleanor a lingering peck on the cheek. Elroy and Amelia spread the blankets and pillows on the door in an effort to give it some semblance of comfort. When everything was ready, Conlan and Freddie slid their arms beneath Eleanor and lifted. They were incredibly careful, but Eleanor still cried out, her body tensing at the movement, then relaxing again when the pain overtook her consciousness. Once she was settled on the makeshift stretcher, Will checked her again to ensure that everything was in place and that there was no further bleeding, while Conlan grilled Elroy.
“Cai and I have swept the entire tower. All of our group is gone, except those in this room and Erit and Daman in the dungeons.” Elroy shrugged. “It appears the servants all fled in the night. The tower’s other two Enforcers agreed to join us when Arran explained about the drug. He has put a shield around them and taken them back to the camp,” Elroy said, counting off the information he had been asked for on his fingers as he went. “Daman and Erit await your orders to release the Protectors downstairs. They have gone through the lower dungeon prisoners as you asked. Those who are meant to be there have been shackled and chained together; they will be taken by the group of Protectors who head south. The others have been released already and given horses and supplies. Most are gone now.”
Will was not surprised that Conlan had assumed that not all the Protectors would join them, or that he was sending the problem prisoners on to someone else, but he did wonder how many of those prisoners would make it to the nearest Protector stronghold alive.
“But two of these former prisoners have asked to join us,” Elroy added. “Cai is watching them back at the camp until they can talk to you.”
Conlan nodded. “And the food and money?”
Elroy smiled. “We have taken as much of the non-perishables as we can carry. There is plenty left for the Protectors who will head south, and the tower’s counting room has been stripped.”
“So we are common thieves now?” Freddie asked, raising an eyebrow at Conlan, the growl under the Dwarfish emphasising the word ‘common’, making it a slur on their abilities as well as their moral fibre. Will smiled, amused that he was learning to be a smartmouth in Dwarfish too.
Conlan gave Freddie a smirk. “At least this way I do not end up owing any more of my kingdom to that dwarf when one of you has another expensive idea.”
Satisfied that Eleanor was going to live a bit longer, Will stood. “Conlan, she is ready to be moved, but you will need to be very slow and careful. Who is going to carry her? It could really do with someone being at each corner for stability.”
Conlan frowned, looking around him. “It might have to be just three of us,” Conlan said. “Amelia has to take the prisoners; she will need her full concentration to keep the shield moving. And I do not want to put you under any further pressure.” Will winced. You don’t trust me not to drop her.
“Hey!”
They all turned to the voice across the room. Teris was standing, jumping a little to get their attention, hampered by the curtain ties they had bound him with, the tassels at the ends swinging backwards and forwards.
“Let me help you, please. Let me help Lady Eleanor, just one last time.”
Teris’s voice sounded slightly muffled through Amelia’s shield, but there was no mistaking the pleading in his eyes or the disgust on Daratus’s face. Freddie and Conlan exchanged looks.
“You stood by and watched someone stab her,” Elroy snarled at him. “Why the sudden interest in helping her now?”
“It is not something I am proud of,” Teris agreed. “And I know what I have lost because of it…”
“What you have lost?” Elroy roared. “Be thankful that His Majesty would only allow me to cut your face! If it had been my choice you would be dead by now.”
“Yes,” Teris snapped back. “I saw what happened to Lord Hernas.”
“What happened to Lord Hernas?” Will whispered to Amelia, and she pointed at the other corner of the room. Will spotted the pile of black ash, and was confused until he recognised the dome shape of the top of a human skull, the empty scorched bone of the eye sockets just visible. Freddie disobeyed me. Will looked at Freddie, who shrugged.
“Spontaneous human combustion,” he said in English, with a totally straight face. “Strangest thing I ever saw.”
“Spontaneous human combustion,” Elroy added, also in English, spoken with the blank earnestness of someone reciting a learnt phrase with no clue what it means.
Amelia dropped her head, not meeting Will’s penetrating glare as he stared at each of them in turn, his eyes eventually finding hard green ones.
“Don’t look at me,” Conlan said. “Hernas once beat me unconscious every day for a week, for refusing to kill a servant I was sparring against. I wanted him dead long before he hurt Eleanor and murdered Kip.” Will shook his head, fighting the horror, the frustration and the sick feeling welling up inside of him. This was a slippery slope they could ill afford to head down, and it all led back to there being no coherent chain of command.
“Is this who we are?” he asked, the Dwarfish a violent bark filled with his disgust. Taking a deep breath, he struggled to make his next comment calmer as he addressed Conlan in English. “Yesterday you had me convinced you weren’t a ‘damaged, irrational child taking petty revenge’—right now I’m not so sure!”
Conlan’s eyes narrowed, his lip curling slightly. “I didn’t ask Freddie to incinerate the man, but I’m not going to mourn for him now he’s dead. What do you want from me?”
“A little bit of responsibility and control,” Will snapped, aware that his temper was rising further, the blood pounding in his ears as his headache shot sparks behind his eyes.
“Pardon?” Conlan asked, the ice in his tone slamming into Will. Realising he was perhaps speaking unwisely, but unable to stop himself, Will glared at Conlan.
“Allowing one of your men to kill a defenceless, bound captive on a whim is unacceptable. It is more in keeping with the Lords of Mydren than anything you aspire to be. And in my world it would make you a war criminal.”
“I didn’t ‘allow’ Freddie to do anything,” Conlan snapped back, his anger barely under control. “I wasn’t here, and neither were you.”
“No, we weren’t here,” Will agreed. “But I gave Freddie an express order to leave Hernas alone and let you deal with him. Freddie ignored me—he basically did to Hernas what Hernas did to Kip—and all I am hearing are jokes!”
Conlan’s angry gaze moved to Freddie. “Is this true? Did Will tell you to leave Hernas alone?”
Freddie nodded. “But Conlan, you should have heard the things he was saying…”
“Did Hernas pose a physical threat to you or anyone else?” Conlan snapped. Miserable, Freddie shook his head. Conlan stood straighter. “Will’s right. Not only did you make your own decision to take the life of one of my prisoners, but in doing so you disobeyed a direct order. Freddie, if any other man under my command had done this, the punishment would be severe.”
“We’re not like the other men in your command,” Freddie shot back. “We disobey orders all the time. And, frankly, as a member of your war council, I wasn’t aware I was expected to take orders from Will.”
Will snarled. His anger was a white-hot wave surging through him, overriding the logical voice in his head that told him Freddie had a very valid point. His voice was bitter and hard when he turned to address Freddie. “While I may not hold this job for much longer, I have it now, Freddie. I’m the captain of Conlan’s men, and you are one of Conlan’s men.” Shocked, Freddie stepped back as Will advanced on him. “You knew what you were doing was wrong; if you didn’t, you wouldn’t have felt the need to make up a ridiculous story about it!” Freddie’s back hit the wall and fear filled his eyes. Glaring at him, Will suddenly understood why Con
lan often clenched his fists to his side in an argument, as the desire to wallop Freddie slithered into his head. Will resisted the violent urge, the tiny rational part of his brain screaming that no good would come of it.
“No, this is my failing,” Conlan said firmly, positioning himself between Freddie and Will, forcing Will to take a step back without touching him. “I have never made the chain of command very clear where the four of you are concerned, and Freddie is right: I have allowed far too many violations of my orders to go unchallenged.” Will felt his anger starting to drain; an empty chill took its place. There is so much they need to know, so much they need to learn—there just isn’t enough time. What could he say that might have an impact? Stepping to the side so he could look at Freddie, knowing he was about to hurt the man to make a point, Will spoke again, not even trying to keep the disappointment and resigned sorrow he felt out of his voice.
“We’re trying to win over a population that hate and fear us, and Freddie, you just lived up to all their worst nightmares. By murdering Hernas, you were the uncontrollable monster they all believe us to be.” Freddie stared. The damage the words had done drained the life from his eyes.
“That’s enough, Will,” Conlan said sharply. “I will deal with this—later. Right now we need to get Eleanor out of here.”
Much to Will’s surprise, Conlan accepted the help Teris offered at face value, allowing the pathetically grateful man to carry a corner of the crude stretcher. Under Will’s guidance and with careful deliberate steps, Conlan, Freddie, Elroy and Teris manoeuvred Eleanor through the tower and down the stairs into the large reception hall. Amelia followed, pushing Daratus and the Enforcer along with the shield she held around them. From the tower’s central hall, through the splintered front doors, Will could see their cart in the courtyard, the defensive wall’s huge wooden gates standing wide open.
Moylan saw them coming and rushed towards them, the devastation and guilt in his expression deepening when he saw Eleanor’s slack, pale face. With difficulty they managed to get the unconscious girl on board the cart, and Will followed her up the steps. But before he reached the top, Conlan grabbed his arm, holding him steady, his eyes flat and hard, the strong growl under the Dwarfish making every word an order—and Will understood for the first time what Amelia had meant when she had told him Conlan did not give him orders. Will knew Conlan had never before spoken to him in such a way.
“Make sure she is comfortable and able to travel, and send her back to camp with Moylan and Elroy. Then come and find me. I have further tasks for you.”
“Yes, Sire,” Will replied. ‘Sire’ was a term used in the Book of the Five to refer to the king. Will considered it very appropriate. This has to be it, Conlan, Will thought. Everything has to change, at least in front of others. We have to acknowledge your position; we need to make it very clear who we believe you to be when these new Protectors join us. We’ll set the example, the expectation. You need to take control now, Conlan.
Conlan narrowed his eyes, looking for insubordination. Finding none, his eyes widened suddenly as the enormity of where Will was pushing him became apparent. He pulled himself up, gave a sharp nod and walked away.
Will checked that Eleanor’s bandage was secure and that she was lying flat on the sofa. He then took nearly all the pillows and cushions they had, including the ones they had taken from the tower, and packed them around her, so that the movement of the cart would not disturb her too much. He turned his face away from the sight of the lepdrac bottle, and looked over at Gregor and Davlin, who lay in the other two beds, both asleep. The healer in him protested when he left the cart to find Conlan without checking on the two men, but Will did not think a deviation from his orders would be tolerated. He found Conlan on the far side of the courtyard talking to Daman.
“This is madness! You are just going to let him leave?” Daman asked in a loud, incredulous tone that echoed around the courtyard as Will approached.
“I do not recall asking you for your opinion, Daman,” Conlan said, using the same tone of cold authority he had just used on Will. Leaving Daman to think about his words for a moment, Conlan turned and addressed his Avatar of Water. “Are you fit to continue?” he demanded bluntly.
“Yes, Sire,” Will assured him, knowing neither of them truly believed it.
Conlan turning back to Daman. “Go back to the lower dungeons. On the signal, start releasing the Protectors one cell at a time. Leave the cell with the captains until last, understood?”
Daman seemed to pull himself together, gave Will a quick glance and nodded. “Yes, Sire,” he said, standing straighter for a moment before heading back to the tower.
“Follow me,” Conlan said, not looking at Will as he moved across the courtyard to where Amelia guarded Daratus, Teris and Bram, her shield presumably back around all three. Will had to push himself to catch up with Conlan’s long, purposeful strides, hampered now only slightly by a limp. As they got closer, Will realised that Freddie was slowly re-inflating the balloons. We’re going back up? Confused, he wanted to ask what was going on, but the look on Conlan’s face was a warning that Will was not going to ignore.
“Freddie, how long before the balloons can fly?” Conlan asked, the Dwarfish still carrying the growl of command.
“Not long,” Freddie replied, not looking at Conlan, his attention on the balloons, shaking one a little to help the warm air expand it.
“Inform me when they are ready,” Conlan ordered.
“Yep,” Freddie replied, distracted, shaking the other balloon out as they began to rise. Conlan gave Will a pointed look. It took Will a moment to realise what he wanted.
“Freddie!” Will bellowed. Freddie jumped to attention, panicked. Will felt bad for the reaction, but it had to be done. This is for the best Freddie, I’m sorry. “The correct response is ‘Yes, Sire’,” Will snapped at him in Dwarfish, doing his best to channel one of his old lieutenants, the one he had always hated. Looking momentarily nonplussed, Freddie stared at Will, then realisation dawned. He turned to Conlan and stood up straighter, his voice full of quiet dignity as he spoke in Dwarfish.
“My apologies… Yes, Sire, I will let you know when the balloons are ready to fly.”
Conlan nodded, and as Freddie’s attention moved back to the balloons, green eyes found Will, who saw the hurt in them. I did this; I pushed him into this. He didn’t want it. He loves us, and having just begun to feel comfortable having us close, I’ve forced him to hold us all at arm’s length. Then the thought of the hundreds of Protectors who would soon be making their choice on whether to stay Protectors or become King’s Men ran through Will’s mind, strengthening his resolve. I had to do it, Conlan; they’re going to need discipline and control, and that’s going to have to start with you and us.
Conlan had turned from him and was watching Daratus. The Lord seemed fascinated by the balloons as they began to fill and lift off the ground. Conlan and Will walked closer, and Daratus switched his attention to them. There was mild surprise in his voice when he spoke; Will was amazed at how human, how normal, the emotion made him sound.
“We were told to expect these flying balls, but I did not believe it.”
“Told by whom?” Conlan asked.
“If you want the information I have, then you will set me free,” Daratus snapped.
“I intend to set you free,” Conlan said. “Should the information you give me be worth the price.”
“Then once again we are at an impasse. And as I recall, that did not turn out so well for you last time,” Daratus said, his cold, emotionless voice back. Will noticed the subtle shift as every muscle tightened in Conlan’s body. Daratus noticed it too, and satisfaction at the pain he had caused danced through his eyes.
“You are a dangerous man. Releasing you now would be a risk to us,” Conlan said. “If the information you give me is worth your life, Amelia’s shield will stay up until we have left. Once she releases it, we will still be able to see you. Teris can be sen
t back into the tower to get what you need, but you and your Enforcer must wait outside the gate. Teris can take what you wish from the tower, but once he has exited the gate, you all must leave.”
“You think me stupid?” Daratus asked, a snarl of contempt under the cold Dwarfish. “You still wear the shackles from your last encounter with us. I know you have not forgotten that pain, even if the torment you suffered as a child has dimmed in your memory. You want me dead; I have no reason to trust you.”
Conlan took a step back and pushed his sleeves up past his elbows, holding his arms out in front. With no change in his blank expression, no evidence of any effort, the pins on the shackles—which had been bent round to hold the metal cuffs on permanently—began to glow. Disgust in his eyes grew as Conlan stared at his father, the pins going from red hot to white hot, the metal beginning to melt, dripping to the ground in a hissing puddle of molten iron. Will look closer and could see that only the pins themselves were hot—none of the metal around them appeared to even be warm.
Daratus’s pale blue eyes got wider, but he gave no other reaction to this astounding feat of magical control. As more of the metal pins melted to the ground, the shackles snapped open and fell to the cobbles with a clatter that echoed around the frozen courtyard. The skin beneath was raw and bruised, but not burnt. Conlan pulled his sleeves back down his arms in a calm, unhurried manner, his eyes never leaving Daratus.
“I have worn those shackles for months because I chose to,” Conlan told him, nudging the metal with his foot. “Having to fight and train with their extra weight has strengthened my muscles, and now that they are gone my sword arm will be even faster and stronger. Just like all the pain that has ever been inflicted on me has made me more resilient. Every blow I absorb makes me better able to take the next one—and for that, I thank you.” Conlan gave his father a slight nod of the head before he continued. “It should be clear to you by now that I am serious; and, as you have witnessed, I will not be moved from this path by threats against those I love. I am Conlan Baydon, son of Helena Baydon, grandson of Gregor Baydon, direct descendant of Alaric, the first King of Mydren—and to protect my people I will claim my birthright.”
Will (Book 2) Page 47