by James Bee
“We country bumpkins are to be feared!”she said, tossing her hair back.
“But not for the heroes of Redstone! We faced down a Sanish warband! What could a few farmers do!”Orland said, chest puffed out. Aye, but we’ve lost our champion, Gerald thought soberly. Perhaps some drinking will do us good.
“Fair point. We’ll go, but you’re buying!”Gerald said, wheeling his horse around. Trotting back to the rest, he was struck by its diminished size, as he always was. So few had survived; so many had paid the final sacrifice. Reigning Frothy in, he saluted the sergeant in the lead.
“Orders, sir?”
“Keep on down the road for another hour or so, then bed down. Off the road a bit. We’ll be scouting ahead.”
“Yessir.”
Gerald turned back and rode away. It felt wrong, giving orders to the men. Kayl’s men. He always half expected them to refuse, to challenge him. Next to Kayl, I’m not much of a commander. Not someone to look up to. The big knight had been a hero, an inspiration to follow. With him gone, Gerald’s world felt a little less secure, a little darker.
*
It was the same tavern, there was no doubt about it in Gerald’s mind. Its barn-like appearance and decaying exterior could not be mistaken. The sounds careening out of the cracks in the wood told them it was as popular as before.
“Charming place. I’m surprised a man of your gentlemanly disposition would be seen at such an establishment,”Felicia said, smirking at Orland.
“Though one is raised above, he must still look below, lest he trip and fall to the bottom!” the nobleman said, sweeping his arm around grandly at the countryside.
Gerald smiled as he slid off Frothy and tied him to a nearby pole. Though the travel had been miserable, Orland’s spirits hadn’t waned. He’d done his best to cheer them, keeping spirits high, and Gerald was thankful for it. During a long march, a man has ample time to brood. Nothing drew Gerald into his own mind quite like riding. A place he’d rather not spend time.
Striding toward the entrance to the tavern, Gerald felt neither fear nor apprehension. Strange, considering the manner of their exit last time. It’s been less than two months. Not likely they’ll have forgotten. Instead he felt numb, resigned. Trouble seemed to show up with him; there didn’t seem to be much point in worrying over it.
Just as like last time, the tavern was packed. Farmers with dirt on their faces and grass and mud stains creeping up their trousers sat elbow-to-elbow at the bar and the various scattered tables. There was only one spot free, a dingy table in the rear.
“I’ll get us some drinks, you lads go and sit down. Try not to get into a brawl on the way,”Felicia said before weaving her way toward the bar. Gerald noticed more than a few gazes drawn her way.
“Come on,”Orland said, taking his elbow. The attention Felicia was receiving paled in comparison to the looks that the two of them were receiving. A group of men in particular were staring straight at them, muttering amongst themselves.
Gerald sat at the table, pulling the chair around so his back was against the wall. If a fight was coming, there is no sense in getting the first strike to the back of the head. Orland sat down and stared around, smiling, as though he hadn’t a care in the world.
“We’ll be back soon then, eh. Only a few more days on the road and then it’s back to life in the capital!”Orland said. Gerald didn’t share his friend’s enthusiasm. Though he’d longed for it, his old life did not hold much appeal for him now.
“Aye. Back to being the queen’s lackey. Back to pricks like Arth and their mockery,”Gerald said bitterly.
“Be nice to see Prince Rauf. though. Bet he’s been bored to bits while we’ve been gone,”Orland said cheerily. A small smile crept onto Gerald’s face. It would be good to see his half-brother. He’s not going to believe half of what’s happened.
“Here you go!”Felicia had returned, placing three mugs of ale down at the table. Orland grabbed his and held it up.
“To Kayl! The biggest, toughest, best bastard I ever knew!”A stray tear rolled down the nobleman’s cheek.
“A true friend, and the best man I’ve known.”Gerald’s voice caught in his throat as his eyes watered.
“Kayl! The handsomest of the bunch,”Felicia added. The three of them clinked their mugs together, slopping some liquid on the table. Tipping his head back, Gerald drained the mug, Orland and Felicia doing the same.
“Guess we’ll have to get another round of these,”Orland said, wiping foam from his mouth as he made to stand up.
“Wait a moment on that, city boy,”a deep voice said. It belonged to a bulky man walking toward them. He had small eyes, squinting at Gerald from under heavy brows. Three men stood behind the first, all tall and well-muscled. The rest of the tavern had quieted, all eyes on the unfolding spectacle. Gerald sighed. I suppose it was inevitable.
“How can we help you fellows?”he asked, slowly sliding his chair out so he could spring up quickly.
“You came through here before?”the deep-voiced man asked, leaning on their table.
“Yes.”
“You’re Gerald then, the bastard?”
“Yes.”
The large man’s eyes opened as wide as he could manage. Stepping back, he swung his arm back, gesturing for attention. Here it comes.
“Marny! Three more ales, on me!”His voice boomed out across the tavern. The man’s craggy face broke into a smile. “A pleasure to be meeting yah.”The man grasped Gerald’s hand and shook it vigorously.
“Thank you …I…”Gerald stammered in confusion.
“A trader came by, not two moons ago. From Redstone. He told us about what happened up there in them mountains. How Gerald the Bastard held the town from a hoard of bloodthirsty Sanish warriors. How he saved all those living inside its walls. Never thought that you’d be come walking back through our doors. ’Specially not after how we treated you last time.”
“It wasn’t just me …I had a small part … there were others.”Gerald’s stammered protests slid past the man’s ears.
“Least we can do is buy you some drinks,”he continued, “then maybe you can tell us what happened. If you don’t mind, of course,”the big man said hastily. Behind him, hungry-eyed tavern dwellers crowded in. Gerald’s mouth felt dry, his throat tight. The events were still too raw, too recent to speak about. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to disappoint the crowd. Especially since they weren’t going to try to beat him to a pulp like last time.
“I’ll gladly take free drinks, but I’m afraid that I’m no storyteller.”A chorus of disappointed sounds met his words. “However, Orland is a different matter altogether. Put a few ales in him and he’ll talk for hours. Getting him to stop is the real trick.”
“Gather ’round!”Orland said without missing a beat. The barmaid pushed through the crowd and placed three massive steins of ale down at the table. Orland grabbed one and took a massive, theatrical gulp. “Our story begins with two average knights and their very handsome friend being chased out of a tavern by a gang of misinformed but well-meaning farmers…”Gerald smiled and leaned back, resolving to get properly drunk.
37
Chapter 37
The gates to the palace opened at their approach. We’re expected. Beyond them Gerald could see the doors to the throne room. What would happen once he entered? Who would come back out of them? Would he be an outcast? Or would he be raised above his old life as a reward? Gerald shrugged and dismounted. Either way, he doubted his life would change much. I’ll always be Gerald the Bastard while I live inside these walls.
“You two. Bring the prisoners in,”Gerald said, pointing at the hunched figures chained to the wagon. As his men hurried to obey, Gerald turned to the two figures still mounted beside him. “Could you see to it that the steel gets to the armoury? The sooner it’s out of our hands the better. I’ll come see both you after, if I can.”
“I’ll see it safe. But…”An obvious look of discomfort flashed across Orland�
��s face. “After that we’re leaving, going straight to my family’s estate.”Gerald’s stomach felt as though he’d been punched.
“Right. Of course. I should have guessed you wouldn’t want to linger too long,”Gerald said. A desperate feeling of abandonment grabbed him. First Kayl, now Orland. The thought of being alone in the capital was not a pleasant one.
“You can come, of course. If things don’t work out here. My father would hire you on for sure. He’s been saying I need a bodyguard for years. Thinks I’ll go off on some fool adventure and get into danger.”Orland winked at him. The thought of tagging along after his friend, like an abused dog, was just as bad. Seeing him and Felicia together was becoming more painful, no matter how hard he tried to suppress his feelings.
“I’ve been keeping you from getting yourself killed for years; wish I’d known that I could get paid for it. I’ll come visit as soon as I can. I hope you two have a good journey,”Gerald said, sticking his arm out. Orland grasped it. An awkwardness that had never existed before lay between them. Gerald knew he should say something, but he didn’t know what. They’d been friends for so long and had been through so much.
“See to it that you do. I’ll have some ale waiting for you. Good luck in there, mate.”Orland winked at him and turned his horse about.
“Goodbye, Gerald. I hope that I’ll see you again,”Felicia said, looking down from her horse. She too seemed to be at a loss for words. How to say goodbye after all they’d been through?
“Goodbye, Felicia, keep Orland out of trouble for me. Try not to let him drink too much,”Gerald replied. Felicia smiled, albeit sadly.
“I’ll do my best.”With a gentle nudge, she turned her horse and followed Orland.
Best get this finished with then. With a deep breath, he strode toward the palace, gesturing for the soldiers to follow. Dragged between them, Rolan looked a shadow of his former self. The time on the road had not been kind to him. Refusing to eat, he’d shrunk in on himself, making him look even more pinched than normal. Dark rings circled his darting eyes, and he shuffled along, chains rattling. Gerald doubted that the man would last a week in the dungeons. Not that’ll he’ll want to live too long after they start in on him. The old clansmen had fared little better, looking halfway to death himself.
The palace grounds were bustling, as they’d been when he left. People rushed by on some errand or another. Most stared at him as they went by, taking in his dishevelled appearance. They avoided looking at Rolan, as though they couldn’t see him. Likely word of what’s happened reached here before I did. Some version, anyway. Gerald knew first-hand how far rumours and half-truths could spread.
The throne room wasn't far, and Gerald headed straight to it. Inside the palace, guards lined the walls. They stared impassively as the strange procession passed by. Up ahead, the doors to the throne room were also wide open. As he neared, a page waved him in.
As it had been the last time, the room was nearly empty. Aside from the armoured spectres against the walls, only the thrones were occupied. The king and queen sat upon them, looking much the same as when he’d left. The jingling and jangling of moving armour broke the silence as they entered and knelt. Though he was staring at the cobbled floor, Gerald could feel their gaze upon him.
“Rise, Sir Gerald.”The king’s voice held no clue for him to decipher. He sounded as jolly and cheerful as ever. Gerald rose, bringing his gaze up to meet theirs. Both monarchs were staring down at him. The king’s expression was mild, a small smile toying at the corners of his face. In contrast, the queen glared down at him through pursed lips. Gerald met her gaze evenly, a feat he’d never been able to do previously.
“You’ve returned,”she said accusingly.
“Yes, Your Majesty. I deemed it necessary. A great deal has happened in Redstone, and I thought it would be prudent for me to report to you myself,”Gerald said.
“Indeed …who are these men?”she asked, pointing behind him. Gerald gestured sharply, and the soldiers thrust Rolan and the Sanish chief to the ground in front of the throne.
“This man is Rolan Krey, former guildmaster of the Redstone mine,”Gerald answered calmly. Beside him, Rolan seemed to be trying to bury his head in the stone. “The other is a Sanish clansmen, formerly their chief.”
“Why have you brought them here?”the king asked.
“For crimes against the Crown and the people of Redstone.”
“Oh dear. What exactly did Lord Krey do?”The king’s voice held no measure of shock or surprise. Something is wrong. It was almost certain that some version of the truth had reached the capital, but they should at least be a little curious.
“He arranged for the murder of Mayor Banesfort and his family. He also contracted a Sanish war band to attack and destroy Redstone, in exchange for weapons and gold. He also tried to have me killed twice.”At his feet, Rolan mumbled softly into his gag, face still pressed firmly to the floor.
“Very serious crimes, indeed. You were right to bring them to us, Sir Gerald,”the king said, gesturing to his guardsmen. “Take this traitor and the savage to the dungeon. They are not to be treated gently. Tomorrow they will go to the noose.”The men rushed forward and took hold of the doomed men, dragging them from the room in the span of a few heartbeats. “You two may also leave.”Gerald’s soldiers fled the room, eager to be out of sight. He didn’t blame them.
“Is the town safe and the mine operational?”The queen’s voice was sharp.
“Yes, Your Highness. I left Blane Beesbury in charge of Redstone, and a man named Raul has assumed control of the mining operations. Everything was as back to normal as could be expected under the circumstances. Another shipment should arrive within three months.”
“Another shipment?”the king asked, suddenly interested.
“Yes, Your Majesty. All the steel that forged as well as all the weapons seized were brought down with me. They should be arriving at the armoury as we speak.”
“Excellent!”The king clapped his meaty hands. “That steel comes not a day too soon. Our borders are being pressed, and we shall need every blade!”
“These two men. Do you trust them?”the queen asked. The words held an unspoken promise. The lives of both men were in his hands, their survival depending on his ability to convince the monarchs of their trustworthiness.
“I do. They were both instrumental in holding the town. Without them, Redstone would have fallen and the mine would still be in the control of the traitors,”he answered.
“Good. They shall stay in their positions then,”the queen said with an air of finality. “Now, did Rolan try to destroy Redstone so that he could stop paying our taxes and negotiate a higher price for the steel?”
“Yes …I believe so.”
“He assumed that we would be too weak to retake it?”
“I believe so, my queen.”
“He also armed these Sanish and was going to help them achieve dominance over the region, in exchange for their protection?”
“Yes, I believe so.”Gerald’s head was spinning. She knows everything? How? Could she have had spies in the town? Could someone have reached her before and reported on what happened? Certainly possible, since he’d spent a week before leaving. Yet she knows so much. Very few people knew everything that had happened.
“It would seem your sources were right, as usual,”the king said. His mouth was puckered as though he’d just eaten something sour. He didn’t sound pleased by the news.
“Yes, it would seem so. How long after you arrived did the first attack happen?”The queen sounded satisfied, as though she’d won an important wager.
“A …few weeks, my queen,”Gerald stammered, a terrible feeling was starting to build. A thought was gnawing at the back of his brain. He was missing something.
“Then everything happened that was predicted. No substitution for good intel, eh, Sir Gerald?”The king winked at him. A horrible thought began to dawn on him. They knew the whole time. They knew that the Sanish were goin
g to try to take Redstone. Gerald’s mind reeled as he struggled to process the thoughts. He’d been sent with only a company to defend against a unknown amount of clansmen. He’d been sent to die.
“You did well, Sir Gerald,”the king continued. “Very well indeed. Not many knights could have done what you did. Defend the town against a superior force whilst uncovering a conspiracy. Even though it had already been rooted out.”Again the monarch winked at him. Gerald’s confusion was quickly turning to anger.
“Why didn’t you tell me all of this before?”he asked.
“We needed confirmation. Besides, my note told you all you needed to know,”the queen said, brushing his question off as one would an annoying fly.
“Indeed, and you did very well! Good work does not go unrewarded. Not in my court!”the king boomed. “You may ask a boon of me, Sir Gerald! If it is within my power to grant it, I shall!”
An icy rage was taking hold of him. Gerald longed to rush forward and cast the monarchs down from their thrones. He’d be able to do it, too, before the guards could stop him. Then he would have his revenge. For Kayl and the others that had died. For the men that had been sent to their deaths.
Yet the offer was tempting. He could ask for his company back or for a higher military command. He could build his career off this. The tale would spread and grow. How Gerald the Bastard defeated a horde of bloodthirsty clansmen with only a small number of soldiers behind him. How he battled the Sanish giant that had slain his best friend and struck him down, saving the lives off all within the town. The truth would be stretched and bent till it was hardly recognizable and he was a hero. The temptation was strong, almost overwhelming. All he would have to do is ask, and he’d be elevated. No more would people whisper behind his back, mock him to his face. All he had to do was reach out, and the world was within his grasp.
Gerald knelt, head bowed.“There is something that I would ask of you, my king,”he said.
“Anything, lad. You’ve done the realm a great service. You deserve a just reward,”the king said genially, like an uncle talking to a favoured nephew.