by James Bee
“If it comes to that, I will be far behind with my bow. The weapon of a true gentleman. You can kill your foe without his blood and tears ruining your clothes. Swordplay is far too messy for someone of my stature,”Orland said, puffing out his chest.
“Can you imagine the glory, though? The son of Manston Mallister protecting the small folk from foreign invaders with naught but his body and blade,”Gerald said. The young noblemen stroked his chin, weaving unsteadily in his chair.
“My body and blade are much more suited to a different type of activity, I think. You can keep the glory.”With that he raised his mug in a mock toast, drained it, and then headed off in pursuit of the barmaid. Watching him go, Gerald shook his head.
“He drinks too much.”
“Aye and talks too loud, yet we love him anyway,”Kayl agreed.
“True. To Orland.”Gerald raised his mug. “The only mate that would travel halfway across the kingdom just to drink with you.”They clinked their mugs together and took a long drink. Wiping his mouth, Kayl leaned in closer.
“I’ve had a look around. The town’s defences are pitiful at best. As it is, we’d have little to no chance of holding it. Even with the town’s garrison.”
“Why wouldn’t the garrison be with us?”Gerald asked, confused.
“No real reason, but I don’t want to put faith in anyone but us and my men. We’re a long way from home, and you’re a long way from popular. Your mere presence makes us enemies. A battle is a confusing place, and a knife in the back could easily go unnoticed. Might be that I’m just being paranoid, but it can’t hurt to be careful.”The big man looked worried, which unnerved Gerald. Kayl was a rock, unyielding and unflappable. If he was concerned, then Gerald should be frantic.
“We’ll be careful. I don’t trust most, but there are some good folks in this town. I’ll just have to win them over,”Gerald said, barely believing it himself.
“Aye. I reckon it’s time you escaped the shadow of your name anyhow. What better place than out in the middle of nowhere?”Kayl said, slapping him on the arm.
Gerald smiled and nodded, for his friend’s sake. Yet he doubted there was anywhere that he could run to where his family’s shame would not catch up to him.
10
Chapter 10
“Thank you making time to see me. I’m sure you must be very busy,”Rolan said, his friendly tone catching Gerald off guard.
“Erm … was no problem at all. We’ve much to discuss,”he replied, standing up to take the guildmaster’s hand. The handshake was as limp and clammy as before. “Can I get you anything? Tea? Wine? Ale? It seems as though Lord Banefort kept his chambers well stocked.”
“I suppose I can let you tempt me into some wine. Banefort may have had many faults, but his taste in spirits was not one of them.”As Gerald poured his drink, the merchant stared at him intently.
“None for you?”Rolan asked, gesturing to his glass of water.
“I’m afraid I was awake late into the night. I’ve little taste for it this morning,”Gerald replied. He wondered if Rolan knew that he was hung over. Wouldn’t be surprised if he’d asked to meet this early because of it. Certainly Gerald didn’t feel at his best, head pounding and tongue feeling thick in his mouth. Mentally cursing Orland, he decided to jump headfirst into the matters at hand. Better to steer into the storm, after all. “If you’ll forgive me, my lord, I would like to get right into your business. I’ve quite a busy day ahead of me.”
“Of course, of course. Running a town is no mean task. Especially for one so young. No doubt you’ve proven yourself quite the capable fellow. I must confess that I’ve heard about your actions in the Blackrot rebellion. You must regale me with those stories before you leave.”The merchant smiled at him over the wine as Gerald reeled.
“You are …most well informed. I assure you that the glory of those victories belongs to others. My own actions are hardly worth mentioning,”he said.
“Hardly talked about, you mean. Folks out here love a good war story. Replacing one tale with another would be easy enough.”Gerald could see the carrot dangling in front of his face. With a few well-placed whispers, Rolan could sway the public’s opinion to his side. An action that would leave Gerald indebted to him. Something he could not afford to do.
“Stories fade, my lord,”he said, waving his hand around carelessly. “I do not worry about what tales are swapped over ale mugs. Gossip can only hurt your pride.”Rolan’s smile slipped, only for a moment, but it was enough.
“As you say. I will state my case now and take up no more of your time. The mine in this town’s lifeblood. Without it, Redstone will wither and die. Lucan is threatening this relationship. His accusations, while baseless, are damaging. Many of the small folk look to him for truth and guidance, and he uses that to his advantage. He is trying to poison them against me. The guild demands that he be forced to desist and offer a public apology. Only you have the power to make him do this. Of course, the guild would be in your debt it you could resolve this issue for us.”Gerald was no political mastermind, but it didn’t take one to figure out what was being proposed. Ally himself with Roland against Lucan and he would gain their support. Yet he would be acting as the guild’s lackey, their bullyboy. The thought was intolerable.
“You know as well as I do that I cannot rightfully intercede in the church’s business. I don’t have the authority. I will not let them move against you without proof, but I cannot muzzle his accusations.”Rolan’s smile slipped further and his tone grew colder, just slightly.
“Whoever controls the most men controls the town. Lucan has no soldiers, no militia. He rules only over the hearts of the feebleminded and poor. If he were publicly denounced he would be powerless,”the guildmaster argued, leaning forward in his chair. Gerald could tell when he was being manipulated. He needed a different option, a way out. Making Rolan his enemy would be unwise. What’s more, he was under a direct order from the queen. Keep the mine operational.Gerald couldn't jeopardize the mine’s business, yet he couldn’t risk moving against the church. He was trapped, crushed between two great stones.
“I have a compromise in mind, my lord,”he said, causing Rolan’s eyes to narrow in suspicion. “I will investigate Father Lucan’s claims. If they are found to be untrue, then I will command him to stop.”Not that Gerald held much hope that his command would mean much to the priest.
“If they are found to be untrue? IF! Do you really believe that I could be involved in this foolish behaviour? That you would even entertain such a preposterous notion is insulting.”All pretense of friendliness was gone now as the guildmaster’s hostility returned with full venom.
“I have no choice but to investigate these accusations. They are much too serious for me to ignore. I hope for your sake that they do prove to be untrue. I will not tolerate anyone sowing seeds of discontent within the town. Not while I still hold it.”Gerald too did away with any air of friendliness, annoyed with the merchant’s obvious duplicitousness.
“Do not presume to threaten me. You grasp at this town desperately, but your grip is weak. You rule only by the people’s leave. I could hire bards to sing songs about your parentage, about how you take after your father. The rumours already spread like wildfire. All one would need to do is fan the flames a little, and you’ll burn!”Rolan turned to leave, but Gerald had his wrist in a vise grip.
“Do not presume to threaten ME. All the gold in the world won’t protect you from my blade,”he spat, relishing in the fear flashing in the smaller man’s eyes. Wrenching his arm away, the guildmaster fled from the room.
Gerald sat back down, rubbing his head. He’d been offered an ally, and he’d turned him into a bitter enemy. That he was one of the most powerful men in the town only made matters worse. His threat sounded hollow now, the boasting of a scared man. He couldn’t kill Rolan anymore than he could denounce Lucan. He might rule the town, but Gerald had never felt more powerless.
11
Chapter 11
“You have to decide who is the Harvest King this year,”Felicia said, putting what appeared to be a jumble of sticks in front of him.
“King of the what?”Gerald asked, staring down at it.
“The Harvest King! You don’t have a Harvest King in the capital?”
“We just have a king. He wouldn’t take too kindly to another,”Gerald said, picking up the sticks from his desk. By some clever device they stayed together. He stared at it, still uncomprehending. Felicia motioned the act of putting it on her head and he understood, feeling foolish. He’d been feeling that way often, all morning, ever since she’d joined him to plan the festival.
Wincing, he placed the crown on his head, expecting to be jabbed by the sharp-looking sticks. Instead it was surprisingly comfortable, sitting snugly on top of his hair.
“How do I look?”Gerald asked, puffing his chest out and pointing his chin upward. Felicia giggled, causing his heart to beat quicker. A giddy warmth was spreading throughout his body.
“Like a trueborn prince,”she replied, smiling. Gerald winced, and the smile left her face. “Oh …I’m so sorry …I didn’t mean to …I didn’t think,”she stuttered, her face gone scarlet. Gerald waved her apologies away.
“It’s fine. You meant no harm,”he said. The moment broken, they sat in silence. Where good humour had been, painful awkwardness settled.
“Do I have to bow to you now?”Kayl stood in the door, smiling wide. Relief flooded through Gerald, and he grinned back as his friend strode into the room.
“Perhaps, though I plan to be a benevolent ruler. As my oldest friend I suppose you may just bow a little,”he said, snatching the sticks off his head. “Apparently I have to crown someone Harvest King.”Kayl’s face crinkled in confusion as he sat down beside them at the table.
“King of what?”he asked.
“The Harvest!”Felicia said, exasperation clear in her voice. “It goes to whomever performs the best in the tournament.”
“Tournament?”Gerald asked, frowning. He’d entered a few before, and he wasn’t keen to relive the experience.
“The Harvest Day tournament! Swordplay, jousting, archery, typical tournament stuff! Though it does put you in a strange position. You could proclaim yourself the Harvest King, I suppose.”A sinking feeling started to build in Gerald’s stomach.
“Me? I’m in the tournament?”he said, knowing the answer.
“Of course, both of you, and your other friend as well. You didn’t know?”Felecia asked. Seeing their faces, she began to grin. “You two are duelling each other, actually.”Gerald felt as though a fist had just hit him in the gut. I have to duel Kayl! Across from him, Kayl looked much less concerned with this development.
“We have to fight eh? Two knights going at it in front of the whole town? Should be a quite a show,”he said, grinning ear to ear. Gerald pinched his temple, nerves making his hand shake.
“Who’s idea was this? I didn’t think anyone would try to kill me off this quick,”he asked.
“Lord Rolan chose the matches,”Felicia said. Then, after a moment of contemplation, she added, “I don’t think he likes you very much.”Gerald groaned. Beaten to a pulp in front of the whole town, not much of a way to make an impression.
“Orland in the duel’s too? That would be a sight to see,”Kayl asked, looking annoyingly unperturbed.
Felicia shook her head.“No, I believe he entered the archery. Said something about swordplay being ungentlemanly.”Gerald shook his head in exasperation.
“That lad lives a charmed life. He might win, too. It’ll take a damn good shot to beat him,”Kayl said.
“Am I interrupting, my lords?”a voice asked from the door. Blane Beesbury stood, looking haggard. Dirt covered his uniform, and it looked as though he had a twig sticking out of his head.
“Not at all. We were just discussing tomorrow’s festivities,”Gerald said, gesturing for the soldier to sit.
“Good. Good. I have a matter to discuss. It’ll only take a minute. It involves us three,”the garrison commander said, settling heavily down into a wooden chair.
“What is it? Something to do with the northerners?”Kayl asked. Blane nodded, looking as though he was working himself up to an unwelcome task.
“In a manner of speaking, yes. It’s more about the town’s overall defenses. As you know, there are about fifty men in the garrison. You have also brought fifty men up with you, under Sir Kayl’s command,”Blane said. Gerald nodded, unsure of what the grizzled soldier was getting at. “As both of you know, confusion can be deadly in battle. Orders must be clearly laid out and followed. In order for this to be accomplished, a clear chain of command must be established.”Gerald’s forehead creased in confusion.
“I’m afraid I don’t follow you, my lord,”he said. Blane took a deep breath before answering.
“What I’m getting at is that we do not have one. We have two separate commanders for two separate forces.”Suddenly Gerald understood and was immediately embarrassed. He’d assumed that the issue of who was in command was obvious, and he hadn’t thought to discuss in with the soldier. Looking over at Kayl, he saw the same embarrassment plastered on his face.
“Ah yes …I understand now. Here’s the thing. While you have a wealth of experience and knowledge and clearly do not need us to tell you your business,”Gerald began, causing Blane’s eyes to narrow. He’d been around far too long not to see through his simple attempt at flattery. “The fact is that Kayl is a commander of a regiment of the King’s Own, as well as a Knight of the Royal household. You are still in command of your men, but you answer to him. Any other arrangement would be completely unacceptable,”Gerald finished, willing himself not to look away from the older soldier’s glare.
“I have been in charge of this town’s defences for near a decade! I don’t mean no disrespect, but I will not have my position usurped by a man thirty years my junior!”Blane protested hotly. Gerald could see Kayl squirming in his chair. This must be torture for him. So Gerald took pity on his friend.
“Kayl, Felicia, if we might have some privacy.”His words had hardly left his mouth before the two were gone, eager to escape the choking awkwardness. Blane sat staring, his jaws clenched together. Gerald knew he wouldn’t back down; the man’s pride wouldn’t allow it. Yet Gerald couldn't afford to relent either. The king’s soldiers couldn’t answer to a garrison commander of some backwater town. It was unthinkable. However, Gerald couldn't afford to completely alienate him as an ally. If the town was attacked, it might take all of them working together to protect it.
“With respect, your position has not been usurped. You are still in command of the garrison. Your men look to you. I would be a fool to try to replace you. However, Sir Kayl outranks you, and that is a position I must uphold. You are correct that we must have a clear chain of command. Your men take orders from you, you from Sir Kayl, and Sir Kayl from me,”Gerald said with as much confidence as he could muster. The truth was there was little he could do to force compliance from the man. He couldn't replace him without risking his men revolting. A fact that Blane seemed to be well aware of.
“This is my town. I won’t be told how to protect it by some wet-behind-the-ears knight from the south,”Blane replied coldly.
“Sir Kayl is not—”
“I was not speaking of Sir Kayl,”Blane interrupted. Gerald felt a familiar flush spread across his face. Embarrassment mixed with anger. Despite himself, he leaned forward and growled.
“I find myself growing tired of having my authority challenged. Soon enough I may need to make an example of someone.”
Blane tore through his threat like it was parchment. “Touch me and my men will never follow you. I lead them! I’ve trained most since birth! They’ll not fight for you, boy!”Spittle flew out of the snarling mouth of the old soldier. Glaring defiantly at Gerald, he made to rise from the table. Gerald stopped him with a gesture.
“You suppose too much. You think your men will brave the cold bite of a s
word for you? The headsman’s noose? You think if the northern warriors you’re so scared of come to murder their families that they will not stand with us? Like it or not, the town is under my control for as long as I am here. I would like to have you by my side, but I will not weep if you are not.”
Blane absorbed his words, teeth grinding audibly. After a moment he stood and in a voice devoid of emotion said,“Very well, I can see which way the wind blows. Know this, though, if the town falls to harm under your watch, there will be a reckoning. You are a long way from home, my lord, and it does not seem as though you are making many friends.”With those words hanging in the air behind him, Blane stalked out of the room.
Once his steps faded away, Gerald let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“If it comes to battle, best stay away from that one. Don’t think he’ll be too interested in watching your back,”Kayl said, walking back into the room.
“How fortunate I’ve brought you with me then,”Gerald replied.
“Keeping you safe is proving to be a more difficult task than I imagined. Your list of enemies grows daily.”Kayl sat down at the table, fingers drumming on the worn wood. “We need Blane as an ally. We can’t afford to turn him against us. I could step down, we could work together—”
Gerald cut him off with a dejected shake of his head.“No, Kayl. You can’t. Like it or not, you are who you are. You’re not a squire anymore, fresh off the farm. You’re a knight now, and not for no good reason. His pride might be hurt now, but we’ll win him over. If an army arrives on our doorstep, he’ll be quick to forget some small slights.”
Kayl nodded, but the big man looked far from convinced. “I hope you’re right, Gerald, I really do. Because if that army does show up, it’ll be our lives we’re fighting for, and we’ll need all the friends we can find.”