Impossible Odds

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Impossible Odds Page 28

by Dave Duncan


  “On your feet, spy!” one said, giving him a kick.

  The boy whimpered and struggled to rise without using his arms. Trudy turned her eyes away, but not soon enough to avoid seeing what they had done to his face. Count János was there, looking like a very big man kneeling.

  “How long where you in Vamky, Wolfgang?” she asked over her shoulder.

  “Thirty-three months, fraulein.” He had trouble speaking.

  Could she detect lies in all this spiritual racket? She needed to make him lie again so she could judge the levels. “You’re going to tell me the complete truth now, no matter what I ask?”

  “Yes, fraulein.”

  That would do nicely. “What rank were you?”

  “Junior knight-brother.”

  “When did you get that promotion?”

  Pause. “The day I left, fraulein.”

  “You were sent here to spy?”

  “Yes.”

  “To learn what?”

  “To look out for the Duchess, the Baron, or the Marquis.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Anything else I thought might interest…them.”

  “Who gave you these orders?”

  “Preceptor Oswald.” Clang! went the first wrong note.

  “Think again.”

  A man in a helmet and cuirass said, “I met Preceptor Oswald in Skyrria.” She recognized Radu’s voice.

  She did not see what happened then, but the boy started screaming. Her stomach knotted so tight she thought she would vomit. Why had she ever suggested this atrocity? Why hadn’t she stayed in Chivial? But then she would not have Ringwood’s love. Could he still love her after this?

  The screaming died away into sobs. Someone told the prisoner to stand up.

  “Don’t make them do that to you again, please!” she said. “Who was it?”

  Came a whisper, “Abbot Minhea.”

  Bellman’s voice said, “Aha!”

  “And what is your password?” Trudy asked.

  “Cobweb watcher.”

  She shuddered. “No, it isn’t.”

  “Twist both of them,” said the Count.

  Trudy put her hands over her ears, but the spy could guess why they wanted that information, and it took many terrible screams and pleas for mercy to drag a true answer out of him: Spinning wheel.

  “Is that all?” she asked. Please let it be all!

  “Not quite.” Radu stepped forward. “Who’s your commanding officer?”

  “Cantor Samuil,” Wolfgang mumbled. His teeth were chattering, and Trudy could sense the despair and cold drowning his will to live. If they didn’t get him to a healing soon, he would die of shock.

  “His cell?”

  “White 5, D 21.”

  Radu glanced in Trudy’s direction, but that was the truth as Wolfgang knew it, so she did not speak.

  “And yours?”

  “Green 2, G 55.”

  “How did you know what the Duchess looks like?”

  “Saw her when she came to the monastery. Fetched writing paper for her.”

  “How many other spies are there in Brikov?”

  Silence.

  “Don’t be a fool!” Radu barked. “There’s lots worse things they can do to you. Answer.”

  “None I know of.”

  Everyone looked to Trudy, who nodded. It was close enough to truth.

  “So when you saw Her Highness here yesterday, who did you tell?”

  “No one.”

  “Hit him some more,” said the Count.

  Trudy yelled, “No!” as Wolfgang shouted, “It’s the truth!”

  “Why not?” Radu asked. “Who were you supposed to tell and why didn’t you?”

  “Carter Franhof. I give him notes to deliver. He’s not back yet. He’s not Brotherhood, just does it for money.”

  The Count’s wordless snarl boded ill for the carter.

  “And what did you write about me?” Radu asked.

  “I can’t see.”

  “Senior Knight-brother Radu.”

  “Traitor Radu?”

  Radu raised a hand to stop the man with the iron bar. Wolfgang cowered, waiting for more pain. The rain was washing the mud and blood off him and what it was uncovering was even worse than Trudy had imagined. She turned away again.

  “Just answer the question, brother,” Radu said. “And don’t bother lying.”

  “I wrote that you came for a funeral and the Count put you in a cell.” The spy’s voice rose from a hoarse whisper to a croak. “So they’ll come to rescue you and rescue me instead! You’ll all pay for this.”

  Radu shrugged and turned away.

  Too late for you, scum,” the Count said. “But at least you’ll get out of the rain. The gibbet won’t be wasted after all. Hoist him.”

  Trudy started back to the stable, then sensed Ringwood walking at her side. She stopped and grabbed him in both arms. He crushed her tight and held her as she added tears to the rain running off his shoulder.

  “You did right,” he said in her ear. “Very important things are often the hardest to do. You may have saved all our lives with that information.”

  She couldn’t stop the sobs long enough to get words out.

  “He’s as guilty as the rest of them,” Ringwood said. “He killed Bernard and the others. He wasn’t looking for Her Nibs’s baby just to play patty-cake.”

  But now she was just as bad. She hated herself. How could Ringwood possibly love her?

  “He knew what would happen if he was caught,” he persisted. “He swore that terrible oath knowing it might cost him his life.”

  Was it any worse than the Blades’ oath? Ringwood might be next.

  • 2 •

  Armor was terrible stuff. Ironhall owned some examples, even plate mail, and all candidates had to try fighting in it a few times, but Blades were duelists, not warriors. Bellman’s protests having been overruled, he rode inside a cuirass like a barrel with rain dribbling steadily down his neck; steel tassets rested heavy on his thighs, and hardened leather sleeves pinched every time he bent an arm.

  Rain blotted out half the world, too, driving in clouds over the bare green hills. The entrance to the valley was a nasty canyon. The counts had held this pass for generations against all comers, Radu told him, but conversely, it was a fine place for an ambush. Everyone seemed to breathe more easily when the cavalcade emerged onto open moor. Bellman cantered forward to where Johanna rode alongside the Count.

  “My lord, Manfred says this is where we leave you. Radu begs you to keep in mind what Wolfgang said about a Vamky attack. Not to rescue Radu, but to silence him. It’s amazing they haven’t come for him already, since they know where he went.”

  “Think I haven’t thought of that?” János said grumpily. On horseback he looked big. “Means the traitor’s first message got through. They think I already solved their Radu problem for them. No fear, I’ll keep eyes peeled when I get back from the wedding.”

  Bellman drew his sword to salute. “By Your Highness’s leave?”

  “You’re not doing this for me, you know!” Johanna said, too loudly. She’d already tried tears, terror, derision, martyrdom, intimidation, appeals to reason, and outright bribery. She was not making a hard job any easier.

  “Yes, I am,” Bellman said. “You are never going to be safe while the killer is at large, so I want to stop him. But also I hope to help a mother find her son.”

  “Truly?” The agony in her eyes was only hope.

  He shrugged. “I do think he’s alive, love.”

  “Why?”

  “Just something that was said. And don’t worry about us. Radu and I have hours to talk this over on the way. We’ve agreed we won’t go in unless we’re sure it will work.”

  Leaving her and knowing it might be forever was purest torture, but Bellman could see the Count’s sneer in the background. He had already said too much, and he dared not embrace her in public. In a day or two she might be reunited with her husband
, and scandal would be deadly for both her and himself. He kissed the icy fingers she offered and turned his mount aside.

  Manfred led Radu and Bellman over rocky uplands in a blinding storm as if he knew exactly where he was going. They could have ridden with the Count down to the plain and followed the highway north to Olden Bridge, but Bellman had sought out the wiry old forester, who had agreed he could show them a shortcut. “Happy to,” he’d said. “My saddle sores are healing too fast.”

  The weather was appalling, cloudbursts mixed with downpours. They had hours to go yet and the only part of Bellman still dry was his head, inside his helmet. He would freeze to death before he saw the notorious monastery.

  At first they went in single file, but eventually better terrain let Radu pull alongside Bellman and ride knee-to-knee. The two men eyed each other curiously. They had met only a few hours ago and already they were partners in a mission that seemed close to suicidal. The man was impressive and Trudy had vouched for his veracity, but he had changed sides once. How far could he be trusted?

  Radu was obviously wondering much the same of Bellman. “If you’ll pardon my saying so, Her Highness is not good at disguising the way she feels about you. I would not pry, but I am curious to know why you would risk your neck to try and rescue her husband. This would seem to be contrary to your personal interests.”

  Bellman’s laugh emerged more strident than he intended. “So it is, but duty drives me. I originally agreed to serve her because I have friends to avenge. The personal interest came later, and I do not deny it. Mainly, though, I want to untangle this web of evil and make the killers pay for their crimes.”

  That wasn’t all of it. There was also arrogance. Puzzles fascinated him. The temptation to try and bring the monster or monsters to justice had been irresistible, and now the thought of outwitting the Vamky Brotherhood had become almost an obsession. He knew this was folly and could not resist it. Curiosity killed more than cats.

  “And you, Knight-brother? Your former brethren are more likely to embrace you with a hempen noose than open arms. May I ask you to name your own motives?”

  Radu nodded, making water dance off the brim of his helmet. “I am horrified at what the Brotherhood has become. The power it wields must be ruled by honor if it is not to be perverted into evil. Ultimately its loyalty must go beyond Provost and Abbot to the Grand Duke of Krupina. I obeyed orders to kidnap a child because those orders came from the child’s great-uncle and he told me they had originated with the boy’s father. When I find that the father has been imprisoned and an imposter wears the coronet, then I feel my oath and loyalty have been abused. My conscience forces me to try to make amends as best I can.”

  Which was what he had told Johanna, but it was a weak reason. He had been indoctrinated for years to put obedience ahead of everything else, and had done so repeatedly, by his own testimony. He was probably sincere now, but a man who rats once may rat twice. His estrangement from the Brotherhood had been an accident; he had discovered a dangerous secret and panicked. Offered a pardon and a welcome back, he would fold like a collapsing tent.

  And he would have good reason to do so if he discovered that Bellman was not being completely honest with him. Which he wasn’t.

  The road dipped into a hollow and a pine forest, forcing them to ride in single file. They picked up the conversation on the far side.

  “Also, like you, I seek revenge,” Radu said. “My brother died. Those who ride the warrior’s road know that slaughtering and slaughter may be their lot, but this was no honorable war. My brother was perverted into a murderer. Where is the honor in that?”

  “I don’t think he was the monster Johanna described,” Bellman said. “I hardly knew him, just a few hours. After the fall of Fadrenschloss, he came to Brikov and persuaded the Baron to take him on. He must have capitalized on your father’s long service, and he must have deceived your father as much as he deceived the Baron. He certainly concealed some dangerous conjurements in the Baron’s medicine box. None of that is honorable behavior. Yet I do not believe Harald was a killer. You told us the shadowman conjuration was carried in a flea. I assume that the one that attracts vermin, the one called a ‘swarming,’ is equally easy to conceal?”

  “I believe so,” Radu said guardedly. “My training had not proceeded into the higher realms of military spiritualism.” Meaning: Do not pry!

  “It is hardly a murderer’s weapon.”

  Radu frowned. “Harald used a swarming against her Highness? It is said to be effective against towns under siege. What purpose did it serve for him?”

  “It kept her moving. As well as being a revolting experience, it was a warning that her enemies knew where she was. It drove her out of Brikov, and of course Harald went with her. As soon as she showed signs of settling in one place for more than a few days, he would send another plague of vermin and her hosts would panic and force her to move on. You see, Knight-brother, there is more than one villain in this affair. You believed you were saving the boy, Frederik, from possible future harm. Your brother was performing that service for the boy’s mother. Other men sought to kill her. They came close in Fadrenschloss with the firefly. She fled to Brikov, but before they could attack her there, Harald evicted her. She went on to Blanburg. Not only was it the closest town, but Duke Rubin’s father’s mother was of the House of Blanburg, and she could appeal to the Prince for aid. Her enemies struck at her there with shadowmen, killing Bogdan. She fled again, but after that they lost her, which may have been Harald’s doing. It was certainly his purpose. Remember that your brother was in her confidence! Had murder been his intent, he would have had a thousand opportunities. He could have snapped her neck with one hand.”

  Radu rode on for some time in silence, then said, “Thank you for telling me this. But surely he could have just warned her?”

  “Not if she would have refused to believe whoever sent the warning,” Bellman said. “Tell me this. A swarming is not especially dangerous. Shadowmen are deadly unless you know to stay in a good light. Fireflies are utterly fiendish. Would a man of Harald’s experience have been allowed to train with those?”

  “Of course not. A firefly could destroy Vamky itself.”

  Which confirmed Bellman’s guess that the Brotherhood must do its spiritual experimentation somewhere else. “So only very senior brothers are allowed to use them?”

  Radu studied him for a moment. “Normally no man below the rank of cantor is trusted with lethal conjurements. You do not believe that Harald was slain by his own firefly when he lost control of it?”

  Bellman was both enjoying himself and despising himself for showing off. If he could impress his partner with his cleverness, he would have more success steering their joint efforts the ways he thought they should go, but he could see that Radu Priboi was a man of action with a limited appreciation of mental agility. Also a pompous jackass.

  “I guessed that fireflies were dangerous to the user, because Johanna’s story of the destruction of Fadrenschloss suggested that the conjuration had been planted and set to take effect some hours later. Am I right?”

  “Probably,” Radu conceded. “The conjuration is called the ‘egg.’ In theory the hatching may be set for hours later or even days. I have heard that it is unpredictable and hazardous to the user.”

  “So Johanna escaped from Blanburg in Thirdmoon and the villains lost her. In Fourthmoon, Wolfgang Webber was posted to Brikov to keep watch in case she returned that way. Someone else was sent ahead to Chivial, because Rubin was also related to the royal family there. The relationship was more distant, but King Athelgar is a potent monarch and has much less reason to fear the hand of Vamky than rulers of petty states like Blanburg do. She duly arrived there in Eighthmoon, and the other attackers loosed their shadowmen against her again.”

  “Does Her Highness know all this?” Radu asked.

  “No. I was never sure enough of my reasoning until we heard Wolfgang Webber’s confession this morning. He said he
was told to look out for Johanna and Frederik, but that was in Fourthmoon. You had captured the boy in Thirdmoon. There must be at least two factions in the Brotherhood!”

  “That could have been just a careless briefing.”

  “Does the Brotherhood brief spies carelessly? Giving an agent an impossible task must increase his chance of detection. Male strangers investigating children invite suspicion.”

  Radu grunted. “You are right. I apologize.”

  That was another point to Bellman, but it might be a point against him if Radu played him false. He might regret taking the man so far into his confidence.

  “After the shadowmen attacked, Johanna rode off to Ironhall to bind Blades, leaving only Manfred and Harald in Quamast House. The residence was very tightly guarded when she returned, but may not have been so while she was away. After Johanna’s return, Sister Trudy detected more death elementals in the medicine chest than she had sensed earlier. How could that have been Harald’s doing? That box held his store of conjurements, so how could he have increased it? Clearly someone else managed to gain entry and meddle!

  “Harald did not understand that, but he did know that the box was to be inspected the next day, and he had learned that Chivian inquisitors can detect falsehood, so he would be exposed. He tried to escape. He probably had no money, could not speak the language, and must have been truly desperate. He knocked out old Manfred when he awakened, to stop him raising the alarm. Again, as with Johanna, your brother could have killed the old man with his bare hands. He didn’t. He did the minimum necessary. He very nearly did get away. So why didn’t he?

  “The Baron and a Blade, Sir East, were in an adjoining room. Harald’s strength would have been useless against a Blade. The only thing that could have killed East before he could even raise an alarm was the firefly itself, so he must have been sitting close to the box and died instantly when the firefly hatched. Harald heard it or saw it and rushed in to try and save the Baron. I do not believe your brother was an assassin.”

  Radu transferred his reins to his left hand and reached across to offer a handshake. “I am much in your debt for this. You are a clever man, Herr Bellman.”

 

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