The Wounded Guardian

by Duncan Lay

  Conal offered a sketchy bow. ‘My apologies, your majesty. I shall be silent.’

  Merren had no time to offer more advice, for the servant led them along a short passageway that ended in a pair of magnificent oaken doors, not guarded this time but served by two men in the Count’s sky-blue livery.

  ‘Here we are,’ the servant said simply.

  At his bidding, the doors were opened and they walked into a large room. Its grey stone walls were almost completely covered in more colourful paintings and tapestries and it was lit by wide windows that allowed the sun to shine through. A large table and a score of chairs dominated the room but only one man was seated, and he rose as soon as they walked in.

  ‘Leave us,’ he ordered the servant, but did not look at them until the man had bowed and left, the doors shutting behind him.

  Martil stared at the Count—for surely it had to be he—an older man with thinning grey hair and a close-cropped grey beard. He was dressed richly, although his tunic was straining a little at the waist, and his lined face showed the effects of stress and worry.

  As soon as the doors shut the Count went down on one knee.

  ‘Your majesty! I hardly dared believe it! How did you escape?’

  Merren stepped forward and extended her hand, raising the Count to his feet.

  ‘Sendric, we now have a wielder for the Dragon Sword. My escape is thanks to him and my magician Barrett. It is no thanks to you and the other nobles who left me defenceless in my own palace, unable to stop the machinations of Gello. But I bring you the opportunity to redeem yourself and wipe away the shame of deserting your Queen in a time of need.’

  Martil winced at the expression on Sendric’s face.

  ‘Your majesty, I was tricked into leaving, Gello sent men to take over my town. Surely you can…’ Sendric began but she cut him off.

  ‘I would like to hear your reasons but I fear our time is short. We were forced to fight off some of Gello’s men and the garrison could be roused against us at any time.’

  ‘What? Gello has three companies of infantry here now, not the usual single company. I have only a score of personal guards and while many of the senior militia are loyal to me, I could not ask them to fight armed soldiers. The commander is a decent enough man, he’s left the running of the town to me, just ensures there’s no protests or rallies in the streets but if he knows you are here…’

  Merren interrupted him once more. ‘My dear Sendric, as I told you, we have the Dragon Sword. Give us men, arms and money and we will raise the surrounding country, then the town against them and use Sendric as a base to take back my country.’

  Sendric blanched at her statement.

  ‘Your majesty, what you propose has significant risks for both me and my family. And I must ask, where is my daughter?’

  Merren waved his question away. ‘She stayed behind, acting as a decoy to allow me to escape. Now, I have a list of what we need…’

  The count bowed his head.

  ‘The Duke, for all his faults, is not a foolish man. He knows the love I have for my daughter. Since my wife died, she…your majesty, he will use her against me if I help you. I know he will!’

  Martil felt the first twinges of alarm. Here they were, deep in a castle, at the power of a man who was giving every indication he did not want to risk becoming involved in a rebellion.

  ‘I too fear for Rana’s safety,’ Merren agreed. ‘But I fear for our country far more so! Your daughter, my dearest friend, put this country above herself. Do not insult that gesture, Sendric. She knew what she was risking. We have the Dragon Sword. With it we can inspire the men of this town to rise with us. Three companies of Gello’s men, you say? Well, there would be 3,000 men in this town and the surrounding villages! Once they know we have the Dragon Sword, they will be eager to join!’

  The count’s face showed the struggle within. He caught Martil’s eye and Martil knew what he was thinking. They might be able to raise a mob but what would they be armed with? Pitchforks and kitchen knives? Even 300 trained men would create a terrible slaughter among such opponents before being defeated. And there was no guarantee the mob would not be broken and sent running for their lives. Whatever happened, his town would pay a terrible price, and most likely, his daughter would pay the ultimate price for his actions.

  ‘Your majesty,’ Sendric began heavily. ‘The people are not ready to rise up. The arrival of so many soldiers has cowed them, not angered them. The time is not right…’

  Again he was interrupted, this time by a warning horn, followed by a second, and then a third.

  ‘They have discovered the missing patrol,’ Conal spat.

  The words seemed to help the Count to a decision.

  ‘Follow me. I shall help you escape from here. I take it you will be staying at the magician’s lodge a few miles away?’

  ‘How did you know of that?’ Barrett growled, before the Queen could wave him to silence.

  ‘Some of my huntsmen discovered it. Fear not, they have been sworn to secrecy. I shall send word to you there,’ he said.

  ‘But, my lord Count—does that mean you are refusing to help?’

  ‘My Queen, I cannot risk it. My daughter, my town, and the people I have lived with and protected for decades—I cannot see a bloody battle in these streets. But I will help you escape. Perhaps the Dragon Sword can bring men towards it in the hills.’

  ‘Men who need food, shelter and arms and armour,’ Martil snapped. ‘We have the Sword! I thought that meant everything to you Norstalines?’ He drew the Sword and held it up for the count’s inspection.

  His eyes showed his distress, but Sendric just lowered his head. ‘I wish I could help. But I know the spirit of this town—and all I can see is my daughter in Duke Gello’s power. Her life dependent on his mercy. I am sorry. I can do no more.’

  Merren stepped forwards, her eyes blazing.

  ‘Sendric, I am not asking. This is your Queen ordering you to do your duty!’

  The Count bowed his head, his voice so low they could barely hear it. ‘But as you reminded me, you are not on the throne, your majesty. I cannot do what you ask.’ Rather than face her, he strode over to the wall and tugged on a golden bellpull. Almost instantly the same servant burst through the doors.

  ‘Gratt, these guests are to leave unseen, you understand? The side tunnel to the stables and then the lower tunnel out of the town,’ he instructed the man.

  ‘But, Sendric, I implore you…’ the Queen began.

  Sendric said nothing, he merely sat down in a seat and refused to look at them.

  The servant crossed over to a large, unlit candelabra fixed to the wall, and pulled on it. A loud click sounded and then he heaved on a huge painting of a dragon, which swung away from the wall like a door to reveal a hidden staircase.

  ‘Hurry, please!’ the servant urged, taking and lighting a lantern.

  They looked to the Queen but Merren seemed numbed by Sendric’s refusal.

  ‘Let’s go,’ Martil said finally.

  Still Merren did not move, and Karia had to grab her hand and almost drag her along to get her out of the audience chamber. Martil and the others followed behind. He cast a glance over his shoulder as the door grated shut and saw the Count slumped at the table, his face in his hands.

  ‘What do we do now?’ Conal asked.

  Merren did not answer him, and after a pause, Barrett spoke up.

  ‘We go back to the lodge, and from there come up with a new plan. This is a setback, but we shall regather ourselves,’ the wizard stated, sounding as if he was trying to convince himself. He was barely visible in the gloom, then he moved his hand over the top of his staff and the next moment, there was a flame burning there, giving light but no smoke, yet not damaging the wood.

  Karia exclaimed in delight and the servant’s eyes widened in shock, but the Queen just kept walking.

  ‘He should have helped us. And he refused even when he saw the Dragon Sword! Why did it not work o
n him? He is a good man,’ Merren muttered, almost to herself.

  ‘It may have been the, er, incident with the guards before we went in. The Dragon Sword can hardly have been impressed by the use with to it was put,’ Barrett said, with a glance at Martil.

  ‘So I should have let those guards just arrest us? Would that have been better?’ Martil’s temper flared up. ‘Why is it my fault?’

  ‘Well, you were the one who cut down an unarmed man,’ Barrett pointed out.

  Martil was not prepared to acknowledge his guilt to the wizard. ‘If you think I’m so useless, why don’t you find another wielder for this Sword? Oh, that’s right, you couldn’t!’ he snarled, his voice echoing down the stairs.

  Barrett stopped. ‘I did not find you. You found me. And anyway, the punishment for an unworthy wielder is worse than anything I might dream up. You will die horribly if you do not live up to the Sword,’ he shouted.

  Karia cried in alarm and Martil stepped forward, opening his mouth to continue the argument, when the servant stepped in, hands raised.

  ‘This is a secret passageway, but will not remain so if you continue to shout at each other,’ he said sharply, then bowed when they glared at him.

  ‘Lead on,’ Martil said grumpily.

  The stairs twisted and turned, then finished in a flagstone-paved passageway. It was surprisingly wide and high, and they could feel a slight breeze blowing in their faces. Even so, it smelt musty. The servant led them on, peering at the wall, before exclaiming with satisfaction and drawing up a pair of long bolts that were sunk into the floor near a darker patch of stone wall.

  ‘I’ll need a little help here,’ he said, putting his shoulder to the wall. Martil leaned in to help and together they forced it open, to allow a surge of light into the dim passageway.

  ‘These are the stables. Get in there and get your horses swiftly. The guards could be here at any moment,’ the servant instructed.

  Martil eased his way inside, blinking at the light, even though the stables were not as bright as outside. Conal came with him, and together they grabbed the horses and their bags. The horns were still blowing, and luckily the noise had drawn the stableboys out into the courtyard. It was easy enough to lead the horses out of the stables; the stable side of the door was just a plain piece of stone wall that held a few old hooks and some cleaning implements. The floor was clean, so there would be no mysterious hoofprints that disappeared into a wall. Best of all, the stableboys had done a fine job in cleaning Tomon in a short time, Martil was pleased to see. Once safely back in the passage, Martil helped the servant pull on a large iron ring to haul the door shut, then force the bolts home.

  ‘They’ll never find it, and if they do, they’ll never be able to open it,’ he said with satisfaction.

  ‘How come this is here, anyway?’ Conal wanted to know.

  ‘It was built back in the days of goblin attack. They were not known for taking prisoners,’ the servant shrugged. ‘Only the Count’s family, his most trusted servants and guards know of its existence and are sworn to secrecy. Let us hurry.’

  Once again they started walking, but the dark atmosphere had nothing to do with the dim passage. Karia thought this was quite an interesting adventure but was a bit nervous of the man leading them down here. She was also unsure around Martil. The Martil who hacked apart men and returned to her covered in blood was a different Martil from the one she liked.

  Martil was still smarting from Barrett’s accusation, while the wizard had several worries. He had no liking for Martil and normally the thought of his life being leached away by the Dragon Sword would not worry him. But without the Sword, Gello was going to win. Barrett was also concerned about Merren. She had not taken Sendric’s refusal well and was not saying much. He had seen her in a rage before, seen her rip into nobles around the council chamber, but this was different. She should have handled Sendric much better than she had. He might have been willing to help them in secret if she had tried to persuade him, rather than order him. He had tried to suggest that to her before. Many of the nobles were proud men, with long histories of service to the crown. They reacted badly when she tried to force them to do things they did not want to do. However, it was hard to say anything to her at the best of times. And he certainly did not know what to say now.

  Merren walked along numbly. How could Count Sendric not help? It would have been so perfect. Sendric was the biggest town in the north but, more than that, it dominated the northeast. Thanks to a happy accident of geography, you could block off three passes and seal off this part of Norstalos from the rest, giving you the town of Sendric, two smaller market towns and a score of villages—as well as almost every silver and gold mine in the country. If you were going to start a rebellion, this was the place. She knew she had to start thinking about another plan but she just did not have the energy now.

  Conal could feel the tension, but it did not worry him. He had been in worse situations before. They walked on, although the passageway was wide enough for two horses to be ridden abreast.

  ‘Reinforcements could get in, as well as people get out if they needed to,’ Martil reflected, running his hand over the tunnel wall.

  They walked on, each lost in their own thoughts, as the passage sloped downwards, taking them under the town. But walking in silence was not good enough for Karia, who soon wanted to know where they were going, why they were going there and what this place was.

  Martil put her onto Tomon and found her a chunk of oatcake to eat, which left her quiet and him free to brood on what had gone wrong.

  The breeze grew a little stronger, as the passageway started to rise.

  ‘You should be safe from here,’ Gratt said suddenly. ‘Just keep going and you will find yourself in a small wood a few miles from town. I must return. I am known as one of the Count’s principal servants, so if I am missed, things will be suspected.’

  He handed the lantern to Conal and before they could do anything more than thank him for his help, he had run back the way he came.

  ‘Are we walking into a trap?’ Martil wondered.

  ‘If we are, they will be sorry,’ Barrett said grimly.

  But while the passageway grew lighter, the breeze grew stronger and the slope grew steeper, there was no-one waiting for them as they emerged into a cave in the side of a small hill, which was itself well hidden, covered by a thick wood.

  Barrett extinguished the small ball of flame at the head of his staff and then waved it to the trees. Almost at once, a pair of birds flew down to him and perched on his staff. After a few moments, they flew off again.

  ‘They’ll lead the way back to the lodge,’ he stated.

  Merren still seemed dumbfounded by the way things had gone so wrong, so Barrett helped her onto Tomon and they started back.

  ‘Any more sympathetic nobles around here?’ Martil asked.

  ‘We shall have to see,’ Barrett shrugged. ‘We need a good meal first.’

  It was a long walk back to the lodge, and even Karia’s chatter had died down by the time they reached it. As soon as they were inside, the Queen went into one of the bedrooms and shut the door.

  ‘We should leave her for a while. I think she was confident the Count would help us,’ Barrett said. ‘She has believed finding the Dragon Sword would be the end of her troubles.’

  Martil opened his mouth to argue but was beaten by Karia.

  ‘I’m hungry,’ she announced.

  ‘We’ll get cooking,’ Martil agreed.

  ‘And then get thinking,’ Conal muttered.

  It was an unpleasant atmosphere as they worked in the lodge.

  Barrett kept Karia amused by showing her how he could make a spoon heat up, change its shape and then form back into a normal spoon once more. Nobody else felt like laughing.

  ‘We are short of fresh supplies,’ the old bandit reported. ‘If we’re going to be staying here for a while, as looks likely, then we really need to get some more.’

  ‘We’ll hav
e to go and get something from a village nearby,’ Barrett agreed. ‘Conal, you had better make the purchases; I’ll come with you to show you the way. We had better leave now if we are to be back by dark. Martil, will you be all right guarding the Queen?’

  ‘I think I might manage,’ Martil replied, getting himself and Karia bowls of stew.

  Barrett looked at him for a moment, then shrugged. ‘I think tomorrow we will look carefully at our plan of action,’ he said. ‘Perhaps you could think of what some of our options could be? I am right in thinking you have faced some desperate situations in the Ralloran wars?’

  ‘Aye,’ Martil agreed, trying not to think too much about them.

  Barrett waited a moment longer, but when it became apparent Martil would offer nothing more, he sighed. ‘Keep the door barred. I doubt anyone would stumble upon the lodge but you never know how the town’s garrison will react. We shall use a special knock,’ Barrett demonstrated a series of taps on the door, ‘to let you know it is us.’

  Martil just stared at him. ‘Make sure you get some fresh fruit,’ was all he said.

  Conal gave them a wave, and then he and Barrett were gone.

  Martil felt himself relax as soon as the wizard left.

  ‘Where are they going?’ Karia asked.

  ‘Just to get some food. We’ll wait here, to look after the Queen,’ Martil replied.

  ‘I would have liked to go,’ Karia complained. ‘It’s boring here.’

  Strangely, Martil felt calmer around Karia. ‘Too dangerous. And besides, you need to help look after the Queen,’ he said, almost automatically.

  Karia looked towards the bedrooms. ‘Should we go and wake her up so I can look after her?’

  ‘No, let her sleep,’ Martil suggested hastily.

  Just then, they heard Conal and Barrett ride off, and Merren must have heard that as well, because the bedroom door opened and she stepped out.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she asked.

  ‘Barrett and Conal have gone into the nearest village to get some fresh food,’ Martil explained.