Priest (Ratcatchers Book 1)

by Matthew Colville

  “Do you not?” the knight asked.

  “What does that mean?” Heden asked. The two flunkies spun around. “You saying she did something wrong?”

  Aderyn gritted her teeth. Sorry kid, Heden thought.

  The big knight ignored him. Heden couldn’t see his face. The other knights wanted to act, but were looking at the leader for approval.

  Aderyn saw whatever look was on the leader’s face and responded.

  “His name is Heden,” she said. “He is a priest.”

  The big knight turned slowly and looked down at Heden. Aderyn was now behind the three knights, who could not see her. She gave Heden a dangerous look and shook her head deliberately.

  “And what import doth he surmise that carries here?” the big knight said, looking at Heden. Talking to Aderyn.

  Before Heden could reply, Aderyn prompted. “He’s come about Kavalen,” she said. This seemed to change the knight’s demeanor somewhat. “The bishop sent him.”

  “The bishop?” The weasel-faced knight challenged. “Who is the bishop to us?”

  “Silence, lout,” the big knight said absently. “Squire Aderyn,” he said, and Aderyn stepped around to his front. “Tie off a rope and secure Burran’s feet. Use your courser to pull the body into the forest.”

  “But sir,” she said, pointing to the corpse. “He must weight twelve tons!”

  The knight said nothing, but when Aderyn went to comply, he stopped her grabbing her shoulder and pointing to Heden.

  “Introduce us,” he barked, as though reminding her of a duty forgotten.

  Aderyn looked ruefully at Heden and said; “These are Sirs Idris,” she said indicating the main knight, “Cadwyr,” she said indicating the thug without looking at him, “and Dywel,” she said, nodding to the weasel.

  Aderyn stalked off to get some rope.

  “Well how now, little priest,” Idris said, watching Aderyn walk away. “Why comest thou here?”

  “You know her horse will kill itself trying to pull that giant,” Heden said.

  “You came to guard our squire’s horse?” Idris said, smiling at Heden. The other knights laughed. Idris let them. “How now, acolyte,” Idris said, deliberately insulting Heden. “We have no food needs blessing, the priory is tidy, you may remove yourself and quit this place, lest some harm comes to thee.”

  “Yeah,” Heden said, and the three of them clearly did not like his mode of speech. “I took the Prelate’s cloth five years ago.”

  Sir Idris kept his eyes on him, no reaction, unwavering. The other two’s heads whipped around and they looked at Heden as though he might explode at any moment. Heden got the distinct impression that Idris had guessed Heden’s rank before he insulted him.

  “Kavalen’s dead,” Heden said. “You’re down one knight.”

  “Commander Kavalen,” Idris corrected, but without much enthusiasm.

  “Sure,” Heden said. “You’re still down one knight.”

  “Thou hast not answered my question, little priest. Why comest thou here? What concern is the Green to you?”

  Heden knew he and Idris were going to come to blows sooner or later, and Idris knew it too. They were just probing each other, testing to see which issue could reasonably used to push the other to violence. Heden liked it this way. Everyone knew what was what.

  “There’s a ritual,” Heden said.

  “Do you know it?” Cadwyr asked.

  Heden didn’t look at the thug. He just cocked his head in appraisal of Idris. “Yes,” he said.

  “Well, then speak it, man, and leave this place,” Cadwyr said, dismissing Heden with a wave.

  “Did you know there’s an army of urmen marching on Ollghum Keep?” Heden asked. This seemed to affect Idris, shutting him down somewhat. The other two knights looked at Idris with some alarm.

  “Thou must speak to Taethan,” Idris said, and watched Aderyn trying to get a rope around the dead giant’s ankles. Heden noticed he didn’t use the knight’s title.

  “Yeah,” Heden said. “But he’s not here and you are.”

  “Then thou must abide here until he arrives!” Sir Idris exploded. He mastered himself quickly grimacing as he did so, angry at Heden, and then angry at himself for showing his anger.

  “Why don’t you tell me what happened?” Heden said.

  “Speak to Taethan,” Idris said, gritting his teeth.

  “I will,” Heden said. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

  “What happened is past and of no matter now. Only Taethan matters,” Idris said and he seemed to be sulking a little.

  Heden frowned at this change of tack. The other knights were pointedly ignoring Heden and watching Aderyn.

  “Okay,” Heden said, realizing that perhaps he’d been asking the wrong questions. “Tell me about Sir Taethan,” he was careful to use the knight’s proper title.

  There was something in Idris Heden had seen before. The last time was with the Dwarf at the Sun & Anvil in Celkirk the day before. It was hatred and respect.

  “He is the perfect knight,” Idris said biting the words off sarcastically. Heden thought he was quoting someone.

  “The perfect fool, more like,” Dywel said, laughing.

  “The perfect ass,” Cadwyr added, amused. They both seemed unaware of Idris’s attitude toward Taethan.

  “Aye,” Idris said, annoyed. “And as thou art each an expert on fools and asses, thou wouldst know well.”

  “Will he take command of the order?” Heden asked.

  Idris was done.

  “Dost thou surmise that thy station as a priest and Prelate of Cavall wouldst earn thou e’en the tiniest measure of protection here?” he asked. Heden noticed that, like Aderyn, the knight’s cant came and went.

  Heden made a show of looking around. “What is there to be protected from?”

  Idris laughed, “You knowest well.”

  Heden nodded slowly, deliberately. He did know. He wondered if Idris was dumb enough to try something here, knowing it would either result in the death of a knight, or of Heden, and that this would be disaster for the order in either case.

  “You want to take out your frustrations on me,” Heden said. “You go right ahead.”

  As if on cue, Dywel smiled and took a step forward. Idris slammed a mailed fist into his chest and held him back.

  “Sir Idris here is smarter than you,” Heden said, not taking his eyes off the lead knight. “He knows the order needs me for the ritual.”

  Dywel looked up at Idris, uncomprehending. These knights were not used to complex issues. Idris was better at it.

  “Do what thou must,” Idris said. He wasn’t angry any more. He was in control again. “Remind Taethan of his duty. Then speak the ritual, and leave.”

  “Or stay,” Cadwyr said. “And take our measure.”

  Heden threw the thug a glance, and went back to Idris.

  “When did Kavalen die?” Heden asked.

  “Six days ago,” Idris replied, sighing wearily. This met Heden’s understanding of the timetable.

  “And you’re, what? Returning from his burial?”

  “Where we are from and what we have done is of no concern to you!” Dywel, the weasel said, pointing defiantly at Heden but staying one pace behind Idris.

  “You don’t seem very upset about burying your commander.”

  Cadwyr put his hand on his sword, and Idris looked down at him, keeping him in check. Dywel noticed this and leaned forward to sneer at his compatriot.

  “He was a fool,” Sir Idris said, and as he spoke, he seemed to become nobler. It was unusual for anyone to care what he thought, Heden guessed, and part of him liked the attention.

  “And deserved to die?” Heden asked.

  The other two knights scoffed and shook their heads. Idris looked at him blankly.

  “Perhaps,” he said. “Ask Taethan.”

  Never ‘Sir Taethan,’ Heden noted again.

  Cadwyr and Dywel were frowning at something going on be
hind Heden. Idris was ignoring whatever it was in favor of watching Heden’s response. Heden turned and saw Aderyn talking to another knight. His horse had already taken up with the others, and his helm was held under his left arm. The new knight pointed at Idris and Aderyn turned to jog over to them, the knight watching from afar.

  “Sir Brys would have words with you,” Aderyn said to the three knights.

  Idris frowned and looked across the clearing, through the pavilion, at the other knight. He stalked off, and the other two followed. Heden waited a few moments, staring at Idris’ back, before he followed with Aderyn at his side.

  “They knew about the ritual,” Heden said.

  “What?” Aderyn said, not understanding.

  “There’s something going on,” Heden said, his eyes boring a hole into Idris’s back.

  “What is this ritual?”

  “I hate knights,” Heden said, scowling.

  “Remember that you are a trespasser here!” Aderyn hissed at him. “An interloper!”

  “Whatever,” Heden said.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  “I do not recommend further contact with Sirs Idris, Cadwyr, and Dywel,” Sir Brys said to him once introductions had passed between them.

  They stood away from the three knights as they used their horses and their own strength to slowly pull the corpse of the giant out from under the tent and into the forest. Aderyn had withdrawn into the priory so Heden and Sir Brys could talk. Brys had relieved Aderyn of the burden of moving the giant, and given it to Idris and his two cronies. Brys had some authority.

  “You know Squire Aderyn calls them the three dastards.”

  Sir Brys pursed his lips and looked out at Heden from under a dark brow. “A dastard is a coward,” Brys said. “No man can be a knight of the Green and a coward.”

  Heden nodded. He took Brys’ meaning and did not dispute it. But refined it.

  “Not in battle at least,” Heden said. Brys looked away. Did he nod? It was hard to tell. Brys was Heden’s size and his age. He had short, unkempt green hair and a sharp beard that traced the length of his jaw and ran up to a moustache, also green.

  “Commander Kavalen did not think them cowards,” Sir Brys opined, giving Heden an opening.

  “What did they think of him?”

  Brys sighed. “That is of no matter now,” he said.

  Heden scowled, frustrated.

  “How do you know what he thought of them? Did he tell you?”

  “I was his Lieutenant.”

  Heden absorbed this.

  “Where are you from?” Brys asked.

  “Celkirk.”

  Brys nodded.

  “You know it?” Heden asked.

  “Does that surprise you?” Brys asked.

  “Ah…yeah,” Heden admitted. “Aderyn didn’t even know what Corwell was.”

  Brys gave him a sharp look. “Squire Aderyn,” he corrected.

  Heden adjusted the pack on his shoulder and threw Brys a skeptical look. “You people throw that stuff around pretty casually.”

  Brys raised an eyebrow.

  “The titles, the cant. I can’t tell if you take it all seriously or not.”

  Brys looked for a moment at the grass, then up at Heden. “We used to,” he said. Heden felt suddenly sympathetic. Then, whatever weakness Brys was admitting, it vanished.

  “Would it pleaseth thou should I affect our traditional mode of speech?”

  “Do you want to get punched?” Heden asked without any real threat.

  Brys smiled. Heden liked this knight.

  Sir Nudd emerged from the priory and began helping the three dastards. The process started going much quicker and the spirits of the knights rose. Heden and Brys watched them.

  “Looks like Sir Nudd,” Heden said, making sure to use his title, “decided those guys had enough punishment.”

  “The Knight Silent is the strongest of us,” Brys said, watching the mammoth knight pulling on the ropes, dragging the giant’s corpse. “He is also the gentlest and most forgiving.”

  “You knew he’d come out to help them,” Heden said.

  “If I did,” Brys said turning back to face Heden’s questions, “it is because Commander Kavalen taught me.”

  “You spent a lot of time with him?” Heden asked. Brys nodded.

  “Ader…ah, Squire Aderyn said you might go a year between meeting another knight.”

  Brys weighed this thought. “She exaggerates. She is Lady Isobel’s squire. They range for leagues alone. I would spend months at a time with Commander Kavalen. But then, months alone, ‘tis true.”

  Heden nodded his understanding.

  “Squire Aderyn said you were a priest of Cavall the Righteous,” Brys said.

  “I was made a Prelate five years ago,” Heden said, carefully giving a non-answer to a non-question.

  Brys shook his head. “She would not know what that means.” Heden accepted this.

  “But you do,” Heden said.

  “Cavall teaches that man cannot live where injustice thrives,” Brys said without answering. “He called the unjust society ‘the wasted land.’ Where men live false lives.”

  Heden was impressed. “Yeah,” he said.

  “That should one man die unjustly, it is the death of all,” Brys was meditating on something. Heden thought something was expected of him, but didn’t know what. Sir Brys reminded him of Duke Baede. It was a powerful memory and bought Sir Brys much with Heden.

  “Do you believe that?” Sir Brys prompted.

  “Yes,” Heden said.

  Brys watched Heden, watched how he responded. Heden’s simple answer seemed to satisfy him.

  “And how did you conclude that we needed your aid? Did the baron enlist you?”

  “No, the bishop sent me.”

  This seemed to provoke some reaction, but Heden couldn’t read it.

  “Ah,” Brys said, taking a long breath. “You bring the ritual.”

  “Yeah,” Heden said. And like the three dastards, Brys frowned at the way he spoke.

  “Have you read it?”

  Heden nodded. “Someone has to ask Cavall for forgiveness. Someone outside the order,” he said. “Me.”

  Brys betrayed no reaction.

  “That means I have to know what happened. And I have to decide it’s worth asking Cavall to forgive you.”

  “And how were you instructed to determine that?”

  How did I end up being the one interrogated? Heden wondered.

  “They didn’t really tell me anything. I was told to use my judgment,” Heden countered.

  “Then there is no matter here,” Brys said dismissively. “You knew nothing of us before Kavalen died. You have no authority here. You are not of the wode, so your instructions do not matter. You title does not matter. Cavall, the bishop. Your judgment. None of it.”

  “Kavalen mattered,” Heden said. He wasn’t going to let Brys just run him over. Baede could talk to him like that, when Heden was a younger man and not a Prelate. This knight was not Baede, and Heden was older now.

  Sir Brys looked like Heden had stabbed him. Heden felt like he was playing shere against him.

  “To some of us more than others.”

  “He didn’t matter enough to you to save him,” Heden guessed.

  Brys did not deny this, nor deny that he knew how Kavalen died.

  “Sir Idris called your commander a fool.”

  Brys said nothing. He looked pained.

  “What happened between them?” Heden asked. “I can tell Idris didn’t kill him. But something happened.”

  Brys didn’t look at him. “Talk to Sir Taethan,” he said reflexively.

  “You son of a bitch,” Heden said. Brys had given him nothing, his reaction betrayed nothing. Heden had no idea what was going on.

  Brys grabbed Heden’s tunic and clenched the wool between his mailed gloves, but held Heden at arm’s length. “Do not speak to me thus,” Brys said. “Thou base and churlish knave.” He was
really angry, Heden thought, and noticed that some of the knights reverted to the cant when they were angry, some to plain speech. Heden again thought that if he knew more about knights, he’d know what that meant. For the first time in years, Heden missed having a team he could talk to, work problems out with. He never thought that would be true.

  He knew better than to react. Brys’ grabbing him was the knight’s way of controlling himself, not lashing out. The man had a bloody great axe on his hip; he wouldn’t use his fists in violence.

  He released Heden.

  “Why do you pretend that the order is important to you?” Brys asked. “You didn’t even know we existed two days ago.”

  How does he know that? Heden wondered. Lucky guess, maybe. He didn’t deny it.

  “I didn’t care about any of this until I met Lady Isobel’s sister and watched her bet the lives of all her subjects on you people.”

  “Ollghum Keep can still be saved,” Brys said, and Heden wondered if he was telling Heden, or convincing himself.

  “Okay,” Heden said. “Sure. So what the fuck are you doing standing around here?”

  Brys gave him an angry look again. “Talk to Sir Taethan,” he reiterated.

  “Why?” Heden demanded. “What does he know? Why does everyone keep saying that?!”

  Brys didn’t respond. Heden had no idea what was going on, he didn’t know how Kavalen died or why, and no one would tell him anything.

  That’s not true, he thought. They’re telling me something. He looked at Sir Brys brooding and then watched Idris and his thugs working together with Nudd. Then he looked at the priory, where Aderyn waited.

  “’Talk to Taethan,’” Heden quoted. Brys looked at him out the corner of his eyes.

  Heden started walking around Brys, stalking him. “Because Taethan killed Kavalen?” Heden asked, watching Brys for any reaction. Sir Brys stood his ground and ignored Heden. “No,” Heden said. His question had been rhetorical. “If he had, I’d know. I’d see it. From you maybe, but Aderyn definitely. If she thought Taethan killed Kavalen, I’d know.”

  “You like Squire Aderyn,” Brys said.

  Heden nodded. “I do. She can tell when I’m being stupid, and ignores me.” Heden thought for a moment. “Plus, she’s not a knight yet. So she’s not an insufferable self-obsessed maniac yet.”