“That’s one way to describe it,” said William. He gestured toward Maya’s examination stool, which Mattice took.
“So,” said Mattice, clearly feeling awkward. “Charlie did well for you, I hope?”
“More than I could have asked for,” said William, knowing Mattice had expected otherwise. “I can think of three times he saved my life.” He hoped he had spoken loudly enough for Charlie to hear. “No, make that four now.”
Mattice nodded. “Good, good. Your injuries. Are they healing well?”
“Well, it’s only been a few hours, and my doctor says I should be sleeping, so…”
“Yes, of course. My apologies. I have a few questions, and I expect you’ll have some for me. I’ll be brief.”
It took hours. Mattice questioned him on the minutest details, hoping for a hint of where other rebels might be based, what their plan was, and who was involved. William found himself more than a little interested, and asked Mattice plenty of questions as well. As they conversed it became clear to William that the picture of bandit activity he had painted for the Duke was only a small part of a much larger mosaic that possibly involved the entire kingdom.
“So if Kaleb Antony isn’t the leader, who is?”
“Antony hasn’t confirmed it yet, but if I had to bet I’d say it’s Zander Bertrand.”
“I’ve never heard of him.”
“Acting Duke of Stansby.”
“Acting?”
“He married the Duke’s daughter. Both the Duke’s sons died under strange circumstances, leaving the only daughter to inherit. Bertrand has taken it upon himself to act on her behalf, as the Duke himself is old and unfit. Or so it has been said.”
“And you think he’s the one stirring up trouble?” asked William.
“Well, if he’s not the leader, he’s sure to be involved. And if he’s involved, he’ll be leading it. So yes, I’d bet my weight in iron it’s him.”
“Can’t you have him arrested?”
“Me? I’m just a simple Guard Captain working for an Earl in a minor town on another continent. I have no jurisdiction in Stansby or anywhere else in Ibyca, north or south. Besides, what charge? There’s no evidence against him on anything. No, the King himself would have to move against Zander Bertrand, and we both know the King would do nothing of the kind. For all we know, Duncan might name Bertrand his heir to avoid a confrontation.”
It pained William to hear the King spoken of this way. Whether people were loyal to Duncan or not, they described him as cautious to a fault—and that was usually the best thing they said about him. The complaints Kaleb Antony had about the King were the same as Mattice’s, and those two stood on opposite ends of the loyalty spectrum, so there must be at least a bit of truth to it.
They finished speaking as the sky lightened over the eastern horizon. While Maya would be furious with Mattice for keeping him awake for so long, her anger with William would be double for letting it happen. Even so, William stopped Mattice as he was about to leave.
“What is it?” Mattice asked.
“You’ve already done so much for me, I almost hesitate to ask for a favor.”
William wasn’t sure whether Mattice was holding back laughter or rage, but either way his gambit hit home. “Name it,” the Guard Captain said.
“One of the rebels you captured, young guy, red hair. His name is Finbar Delroy.”
“What about him?”
“If it’s possible, could you go easy on him? He wasn’t with this rebellion for long, and a tough situation at home drove him there in the first place. His father is Morgan Delroy, a farmer on the Earl’s lands. They lost a baby this spring, and I can’t imagine what they’d go through if they lost their oldest, too.”
Mattice looked at the ground and shook his head. “A rebel is a rebel, Whitehall. I can’t show him mercy just because he had bad luck in the past. I can understand stealing food to stay alive. ‘That which is necessary is legal.’ But nothing justifies disloyalty to the Crown and its Officers. Besides, their fate isn’t up to me. I just catch ‘em; I don’t try ‘em. That’s for the Earl to do.”
William sighed as deeply as his battered ribs allowed. “I thought as much. I had to try, though.”
“I’ll let you sleep now,” said Mattice with a grin.
What was Mattice so amused about? William never got the chance to ask. Maya stormed into the tent after the Guard Captain left, and William tried to placate her before she could yell at him. “I’ll sleep now, I promise.”
Maya glared at him, hands on her hips. “You really are a problem patient, you know that? The tents are being pulled down. They’re marching the prisoners to town, and they aren’t waiting. There’s no time left to sleep, you fool.”
He had never felt so tired as he did at that moment.
Despite thorough attempts during Transition to codify every aspect of life, the rules of royal succession were left surprisingly uncertain. The public need for stability and the private desire for power led to a stalemate between King Andrew I and the Council of Dukes, wherein the King could nominate any family member or sitting Duke as his heir, subject only to the ratification by the Council.
While the majority of heirs since then have been firstborn sons, it is not actually a requirement, as second sons have twice been nominated by a reigning King in order to bypass inept firsts. Only three times has a childless King been forced to choose from among the Dukes.
Planet of Hope: A History of Esperanza
William’s tent came down as soon as he had packed his few belongings. These included his father’s shield, which Jack had rescued from the shack before the Guards could confiscate it along with the other weapons and armor. The sun was rising into a clear sky, and the river’s straight and level southern bank promised a smooth journey. The rebels were yoked and tied for marching, and a full complement of Guards were on the watch to prevent escape. Compared to the past month, this was luxury.
He only wished he could enjoy it. Though still suffering the effects of beating and starvation, he had squandered a night’s sleep with his late discussion with Hendrick Mattice. The Guard Captain entered the camp on horseback and grinned in amusement at William’s exhaustion. William sensed no malice or deceit from him; in fact, it was more like the good natured ribbing he and Jack often traded with each other. Had Mattice really accepted him as an equal, or at least as a worthy ally?
“Feeling fresh enough for the trip, Whitehall?” Mattice asked. He glanced at blue the sky and added, “It’s perfect traveling weather, wouldn’t you say?”
William nodded. “The best. I only wish I could enjoy it the same way,” he said, admiring the horse. “I’ve spent enough time on my feet the past few weeks.”
Mattice dismounted and handed the reins to William. “This beast isn’t mine. My own horse is being saddled by my tent. This one is your prescription.”
William blinked in disbelief. “My what?”
“I paid a price for keeping you awake last night. That doctor of yours is a tough lady, and she cares a great deal about you. Or maybe she was advocating on behalf of her patient. Anyway, the man who rode this beast is part of the prisoner escort now. His name is Chance. He’s yours to ride all the way to Marshland.”
“King’s treasure…I don’t know what to say.”
“The word you’re looking for is ‘thanks’, but truth is, you’ve earned it.”
William gave a sharp glance toward Mattice. Was Mattice recalling their earlier meeting in which he had said nearly the same thing? It had been a ruse then, and William had seen through it—too late, of course, but both men knew this sounded like a stab at an old wound. Mattice gave William a sheepish look, and slowly walked away.
The remaining tents were packed; it was time to leave. Jack helped William mount before getting on his own horse. Maya and Rachel rode up, Rachel giving William a kiss on the cheek. “Glad to see you alive,” she said. “Steve, get away from the horse’s legs, you’ll get kicked.”
William reached down and rubbed Steve’s ears. “Where’s Charlie?” he asked.
“Helping with the prisoners,” said Maya, who frowned in that direction. “I think Mattice has taken him back from me. I mean you. Us.”
“So you chatted with Mattice,” Jack said to William, changing the subject. “Did he say anything about you know what?”
William recalled the discussion as well as he could. “Actually, no, not even close. We talked about the bandits, that’s all. Hey, did you know they’re actually rebels, and not bandits?”
“That’s what we heard, but the Guards have been told not to talk about it. Did Mattice tell you anything?”
William hesitated, but then realized he wasn’t sworn to secrecy. “He said the rebellion leader was probably a Duke or something from Stansby. Barnard, I think…no, Bertrand. Zander Bertrand. Any of you know him?”
“No,” said Rachel. Maya shook her head.
“There’s no Duke named Bertrand,” said Jack. “Oh wait, did you say Stansby? Oliver Lund was Duke of Stansby until he died last year.”
“I don’t know the name,” said William. “But Mattice said the Duke’s sons died, leaving his daughter the heir. Zander Bertrand is her husband.”
“That’s right,” said Jack. “I remember now. There was an uproar about it at court. He even started acting on the old Duke’s behalf before the poor guy died. Everyone was talking about it, but King Duncan never challenged Bertrand’s claim.”
Rachel snorted in contempt. “Of course he didn’t.”
William said nothing. Only a few months ago he would have risen to the King’s defense.
“I’m sure I’ve heard the name Zander Bertrand before,” said Jack. “He’s related to Duncan somehow, second cousin or something. I wonder if that’s why Duncan left him alone.”
“Then why would he—”
“Boring,” said Rachel as she rolled her eyes. “Let’s go tease the prisoners.” She shot forward on her slender black mare, followed closely by Steve.
Maya shrugged. “Let’s go,” she said, and followed as quickly as her tan pony would allow.
“That was strange,” said William as they followed the women at a slow walk. William was too sore to even let his horse trot, let alone canter.
“What? Rachel and Maya are practical,” said Jack. “What do they care about politics?”
“I suppose, but this isn’t just politics. The Kingdom itself may be at risk. Why wouldn’t anyone be interested?”
“Beats me.”
“Was Rachel trying to avoid the subject?”
“How would I know, Will?”
“Well, you seem pretty close to her, so I—”
“Stop right there, pal,” said Jack. “Yes, I like her. More than I’ve admitted to her—and maybe even myself. But she prefers to keep her past to herself, and if you go poking into her private life she’ll get angry. And that might affect me, so I’d like you not to do that.”
“Okay, fine,” said William, recalling similar advice from Cairns. They rode for a while in silence, William nearly dropping off from exhaustion. It occurred to him that they would be home soon. His mission had been a success, but readjusting to a Librarian’s quiet life would be hard. He remembered that he would see Melissa again soon, and his heart pounded, rousing him from his near slumber. With a pang of guilt, he realized that returning home might mean the opposite for his friend. “Do you think Rachel will hang around when we get back?”
“I haven’t thought that far ahead,” said Jack. William didn’t dig any further.
They caught up to Maya, who was waiting on the side of the path. “Where’s Rachel?” asked Jack.
“She and a few scouts went ahead to hunt. They have more prisoners than they expected, so we’re short on food. What are you pouting about, Jack?”
“Nothing,” said Jack.
“How about you, Will? How are you holding up?”
“I’m tired, but I suppose I shouldn’t complain.”
“No, you shouldn’t, but I want to know anyway. Let me know if it hurts too much to ride. I can talk Mattice into giving us a Guard or two to stay with us. I think he’s scared of me now.”
“I’ll be fine. But let’s keep talking so I don’t fall asleep.”
Jack and Maya did their best to keep the conversation flowing. Jack was knowledgeable about royalty and nobility from both Azuria and Ibyca, and regaled the two with stories of his travels with his father. At one point William asked him if there was any royalty he didn’t know.
“Just one,” he said with a frown. “The next one.”
“What do you mean?” asked William.
“Well, King Duncan is sixty or so, and the Queen never bore him a child. Unless she dies and the King remarries, he’ll have no natural heir.”
“Doesn’t the King choose an heir from among the Dukes in that case?”
“He’s supposed to, but rumor has it he’s stalling, not wanting to alienate the Dukes he doesn’t select.”
“So what happens if he dies without an heir?”
“You aren’t entirely stupid,” said Jack with a grin. “What do you think?”
William pondered it, and realized it would have to end in chaos if the King refused to name an heir. “Can he write it in his will?”
“Even I know this one,” said Maya. “The heir has to be ratified by a meeting of the Dukes. If it’s the King’s own son, the vote is almost always unanimous.”
Jack continued. “The few times a King has chosen an heir from among the Dukes, infighting and politicking turned the court into a circus. If that happened after the King’s death…” Jack’s voice trailed off. They rode slowly, letting the parade of Guards and prisoners pass them. As the rear of the chain gang caught up to them, they heard Kaleb Antony preaching loudly to anyone who would listen. When Antony spotted William he raised his voice pointedly. To those who didn’t know him he would have appeared crazy, but William knew better. The man’s words were dangerous. He couldn’t believe Mattice was letting him spew his rhetoric for all to hear. Someone as smart as Mattice should know what sort of damage he could do if the wrong people heard his words. Instead, he laughed along with his men at the captive’s antics.
William yelled across the crowd. “Captain Mattice! Perhaps your guest might benefit from being gagged. I’m afraid he’ll tire himself before the long march.”
Mattice seized on the idea. “Aye, he might get some good of that. If he doesn’t, the rest of us might.” Mattice had the task completed by two of his larger Guards; Antony glared at William with such malice that Jack suggested they let the line pass and join the rearguard.
Mattice ordered a halt well before dark to set up camp. With so many prisoners in tow, he had more people than usual to feed and shelter, and fewer free hands to work. William tried to pitch in, but Maya stopped him before he could pound a tent peg or build a fire. “There’s a tent right there, away from everyone else, and a nice bed roll ready for you.” He submitted to her will, too tired to do anything else. He protested that he couldn’t sleep so early, but she forced another draught on him, and he soon fell asleep.
When he woke it was still dark, and his empty stomach growled. A Guard stood outside his tent—probably put there at Maya’s insistence. William got up, and was disappointed to find it wasn’t Charlie. He asked the Guard what hour it was, startling the man. “Nearly dawn,” the young man said, looking around with anxiety. “Uh, listen…you won’t let me get in trouble with the doctor lady, will you? She told us you were supposed to sleep until morning.”
“It’s almost morning, isn’t it? Besides, it’s me she’ll be mad at. Hey, if you’re supposed to guard me, come help me find something to eat.”
The Guard had to be older than William, since he wasn’t among this year’s recruits. Even so, he gave William a look of respect that William wasn’t used to. “You’re William Whitehall, right? The guy that fought all those rebels?”
“That’s my
name,” said William. “But I’m not sure you have the story right.”
“All the guys are talking about you. My name is Ethan Weimer.” He shook William’s hand, and looked proud to have done so.
William shrugged and chuckled. “There’s not much to talk about. All I did was get caught. The Guards were the ones who knowingly ran into danger and saved me from being impaled on Antony’s sword.”
“Yeah, but we had surprise and numbers on our side—oh, there’s the chow fire. Hey guys! This is William Whitehall. Give him a big helping.” Someone handed William a large steaming bowl. His stomach rumbled at the aroma, and he accepted it with thanks. The other men made room for him beside the fire, and they swapped stories until the sun rose. He felt no compulsion to leave, not even when Jack and Maya found him.
“Oh, hey guys. Meet my new friends.” He rattled off their names as though he had known them his whole life. “This here is Jack, and this is Maya. Oh wait…You must know them already, Maya, since you rode here with them.”
“We were sort of rushed. Hi, boys.” The Guardsmen looked positively frightened of her. She pouted half-heartedly and said, “Come on, guys, I don’t bite.”
“That’s not what the Captain told us,” said one of the Guards.
“Even him I wouldn’t bite,” she said. “Much too bitter.” She slipped into a spot beside William and asked in a low voice, “Feeling better?”
“A lot. I’m surprised at how little I hurt.”
“I slipped a painkiller in your sleepy tea yesterday. I’m afraid you won’t be pain free for much longer. Did you eat?”
He nodded.
“Good,” she said. “I can’t give you the same stuff during the day, or you’ll fall off your horse, which would just give me more work, and we can’t have that. But if it gets bad, I can give you something to take the edge off. Don’t try to be a hero, okay?”
“I just told these guys how I’m not a hero,” he said.
“Yes you are,” she said, kissing his forehead as she rose.
The Defender of Rebel Falls: A Medieval Science Fiction Adventure (The William Whitehall Adventures Book 1) Page 26