“What! You are giving Jorndar an escape route.” Rathenridge complained.
“We can watch from a distance and stop anyone farther out,” Dentin pointed out. “If Jorndar wants to run, he can, but we will catch him.”
Rathenridge scowled at Dentin. “There is still the issue of whose men go into the city on reconnaissance.”
“Landry’s,” Tomas said as he straightened. “He sent seven men out before we broke camp this morning.”
“And when did you plan on informing me of this?” Dentin demanded.
“When you two stopped arguing long enough for me to get in a word.” Tomas met Dentin’s glare with one of his own. “I don’t see why you two can’t get along.”
“It is a personality issue,” Rathenridge muttered.
Dentin looked at him. No emotion, no reaction, simply bland observation. “Yours?”
Ignoring their sniping barbs, I watched Tomas. The weary set of his shoulders, the way he fought to keep his eyes open, I feared he would collapse any moment. Between duty and worry, he had barely slept the past few days. When he did lie down, he was restless and dreamed fitfully. He looked up and met my gaze. I ached at the exhaustion in his eyes.
“You might as well come out and join us, Brielle.”
Tomas’ words stopped Rathenridge mid-sentence. All three men looked toward my position. I swept the canvas aside and stepped into the cold sunlight. The breeze whipping among the tents teased a few strands of my hair loose as I approached.
“Eavesdropping again?” Tomas’ frown lacked conviction.
“I thought you wanted me out of sight.”
“Whatever for?” Rathenridge demanded, turning to face Tomas. “It isn’t as though the sight of her will stir up sedition in the ranks.”
“Are you trying to pick a fight with me, Aiden?” Tomas rubbed his face. “I wanted her to stay out of sight so if we are watched, it will be clear that we are all doing our duty.”
“A wise move considering the blacksmith behind my tent is working extremely slow in replacing the shoes on my horse.” Dentin didn’t turn his head. It took every bit of control I had to resist the impulse to look. Rathenridge felt no such compulsion though.
“I wondered if he was a novice,” Tomas murmured.
“No, just dawdling.” Dentin leaned over and pointed to the vargar on the map. “I want to know how you plan for us to get in there.”
“I thought you were handling that aspect of things.”
Dentin frowned. “I can. When did you last sleep?”
Tomas’ straightened to his full height. “Last night, same as you.”
“How long?”
“Six hours.”
“Three,” I corrected him. “He slept three.”
Dentin’s frown deepened. “Go to bed.”
“And toss and turn?” Tomas gestured toward our tent. “It isn’t as though I can fall into bed and fall asleep. I am restless and plagued. You know how I get before a battle.”
“This battle is a few days off, Tomas. You have to sleep or you will be worthless.” Rathenridge twitched a bit uncomfortably. “I don’t like agreeing with Dentin, but he has a point. You need sleep.”
Dentin began clearing the maps from the table. “We will move our meeting. I will send Muirayven with a sleeping draught.”
“I don’t need it.”
Dentin paused long enough to skewer Tomas with an intent stare. “I know you aren’t a drinking man, Tomas. I am not about to press wine on you against your wishes, but I need you alert. You need sleep. I am sending over a bottle of wine or Muirayven with a sleeping draught, your choice.”
Tomas closed his eyes in acquiescence. “Send the wine.”
Dentin nodded sharply, picked up the bundle of maps and stalked off in the direction of the edge of camp. Rathenridge gathered the satchel of documents, nodded to me, and trotted after Dentin.
“I hate battles.” Tomas rotated his shoulders and then winced. “I would rather be caught unawares than deal with the waiting, plotting, and nerves.”
He allowed me to guide him inside. He sank onto the edge of the bed with a groan. “I feel like I could sleep for days, but every time I close my eyes and clear my mind nightmares and memories come flooding in to fill the void.”
I knelt to pull off his boots. He tried to push me away, but I persisted and unlaced the first one. He didn’t even attempt to dissuade me as I started on the second.
He closed his eyes. His last boot fell into my lap. “I hate sieges,” he muttered before rolling over. By the time I placed his boots next to his gear, he was asleep.
In an effort to intercept Dentin’s bottle of wine, I slipped outside. Dentin’s man on duty outside the door nodded to me, but made no move to stop me.
“My lady?” Antano approached, a leather flask in hand. “I thought you were supposed to remain inside unless accompanied by Lord Irvaine.”
“That is true, but he has fallen asleep without the assistance of that.” I gestured toward the flask. “I stepped out to intercept you. The guard is here to account for my whereabouts.”
Dentin’s man nodded to Antano before resuming his tense stance.
“All the better that he fell asleep.” Antano handed me the flask. “He makes a lousy drinker.”
“Violent?” I had seen my share of violent men, more than I wished.
“His past sins come back to haunt him and sharpen his tongue.” Antano grimaced. “Regret, if fed, can consume all hope of the future. At least when sober, Irvaine knows the wisdom of not feeding his regrets. I am surprised he requested it.”
“Dentin insisted he sleep. He gave Tomas a choice of wine or a sleeping draught.”
“It sounds as though he has made the best choice, neither. Keep that far from your husband.”
“Then take it back.” I offered the heavy container.
Antano waved it away. “No, if you take it, I can truthfully claim I delivered it.”
He strode away. I retreated to loneliness of the tent and my softly snoring husband. Tomas slept for three hours without stirring.
The heavy pounding of an approaching horse woke me from a half-doze in the chair next to the bed. I cautiously straightened.
“Tomas!” Rathenridge called from just outside the tent door.
Tomas sat up, instantly awake. Rolling off the bed, he crossed to the door before I had done more than gain my feet. He lifted the canvas.
“Movement at the gate.”
“On my way.”
The horse galloped away.
I met Tomas at the door with his boots and sword belt. Our joint efforts had him out of the tent and mounting his horse within minutes.
I turned back to hide once again within the canvas walls, but Tomas had another plan.
“Come with me.” He extended a hand down to me.
“I thought–“
“Seize the opportunity. I have to go. You can stay or–”
I took his hand and swung up behind him with a grimace. His healing rib still bothered him. He didn’t wait for me to settle before setting heels to the horse’s flanks. We plunged forward. I grabbed at him, catching hold of the front of his fur-lined overtunic while my heart thundered in my ears. Beneath his overtunic, his padded jerkin shifted. Only then did I realize he had left his breastplate, chain mail, and helmet at the foot of our bed.
We whipped by men clamoring for their horses in various stages of dressing for battle. Fear pricked my skin. Please don’t let this be the battle yet, Kurios.
Suddenly, we burst forth from the crowded camp into the open fields. Tomas drew our horse up to a stumbling halt for a breath before whirling us off again along the line of tents. I could see nothing beyond his shoulders, so I contented myself with pressing my face to the center of his back. Then, just as before, he pulled back and our horse came to a messy stop among a group of other horsemen.
“What is the situation?” Tomas demanded.
“You brought her with you?” Dentin
demanded.
“Obviously he did,” Rathenridge retorted.
I managed to look around Tomas’ shoulder in time to catch the loaded glare the men exchanged.
“Well, look for yourself.” Dentin gestured toward the walls.
The gates looked much the same as they did the day we first arrived, except the massive gate was closed.
“Where is the portcullis?” Tomas asked.
“They drew it up.” Rathenridge earned a glare from Dentin.
“When did the white flag appear?”
I had missed the white flag, but when I looked it was there. Small and limp, it hung from one of the slits above the gate. Whoever hung it clearly intended for it to be seen.
“Shortly before I sent Rathenridge for you.” Dentin shifted. “We have been watching the inner gate ever since.”
“Lord Dentin.” One of the heavily armed men straightened to attention. “Movement, sir.”
Even as he spoke, a small square of light winked into being in the black façade of the gate. A figure appeared, outlined for an instant against the light beyond the gate, only to disappear when the door closed again.
I blinked and narrowed my eyes, hoping to identify the person slogging through the mud toward us. Silence fell across the men as they all did the same.
“I believe that is Horacian.” Rathenridge frowned as he announced his conclusion.
“It is.” Tomas sounded no less concerned. “Why in the world would Jorndar be sending my steward out to me?”
“Perhaps he seeks to negotiate surrender.” Dentin’s voice betrayed his disbelief that the steward came on such a mission.
“Should we send someone to meet him?” We all turned at Landry’s query. “It is a long walk.”
“Let him walk.” Tomas nodded toward our army still assembling along the crest of the hill. “It will give us time to prepare should this be a prelude to an attack. Dentin, do you have the Southern gate covered? This might be a trap.”
Dentin’s frown grew even more terrible. “Captain,” he called toward the men gathering behind us.
“Yes, my lord?” A heavy set young man straightened in his saddle.
“Take a platoon and march to the southern gate. Send news of the status when you get there.”
The man saluted and then began yelling orders. A group of men detached themselves from the main group and started forming into ranks, as they rode west. I watched them until they disappeared from sight. When I turned back to check on Horacian’s progress, I was surprised at how far he had come.
As he navigated the last bit of muddy field to reach us, I couldn’t help comparing his approach to the first one. His shoulders stooped and his head hung lower this time. With his muddy boots and leggings, he looked decidedly less proud than that first day. Unlike then, he knew exactly whom he wanted to see.
“My Lord Irvaine.” He fell to his knees with a wet slosh. “I have come as a petitioner to offer the terms of surrender of the town of Kyrenton.”
“Why does Jorndar send you, old man?” Dentin demanded. “Does he hope we will not slay you out of respect for your age?”
Horacian’s face paled, but his voice remained steady. “I represent the people of Kyrenton, not those of the vargar.”
“How did this come about?” Tomas asked.
“Sir Jorndar took control of the vargar by force–“
“How many men?” Dentin leaned forward intently.
“Thirty, my lord. I voiced my objection.”
“How many dead?”
Rathenridge didn’t wait for Horacian to answer before nudging his horse into Dentin’s forcing him to steady his beast. “Will you just let the man finish answering the first question before you start pestering him for details?”
“Yes, please, Dentin.” Tomas gestured toward Horacian. “I want to hear what happened.”
Dentin’s impassive features flinched for a blink of an eye as he curbed his eagerness.
After a nod from Tomas, Horacian continued. “In deference to my status as his father-in-law and Rolendis’ delicate condition, he spared me from the sword. Instead I was turned out into the town. The town council–“
“Wait!” Rathenridge was the one to interrupt this time. “Father-in-law? Rolendis married the treasonous brute?”
“Two days ago.” Horacian looked more dejected than I thought possible.
“She is more of a lack-wit than I thought.”
“Aiden, please.” Tomas’ exhausted plea brought Rathenridge to silence. Turning to regard Horacian again, Tomas nodded for him to continue.
“The town council accepted me. They asked me to be their spokesman in their efforts to petition separately from Jorndar.”
“Why do they wish to do that?” Landry’s voice took everyone by surprise again. For such a large man he was very quiet. “Sir Jorndar is a capable warrior and an adequate administrator.”
“Hardly, Sir Landry. He is known among the people as a harsh master. He values the land more than the people’s wellbeing. He has cut off children’s hands for crimes as petty as sleeping in his fields.”
Tomas tensed, Dentin frowned, and Rathenridge glowered. I shivered. The thought of maiming a child for something so accepted by others chilled me to my core. Men, women, and children frequently slept during the mid-day break during harvest and planting. Some nights, I had even slept with the harvesters when we were rushing to beat the rain.
“Dentin, which of us is making decisions here?” Tomas asked.
Dentin considered the question for a moment. “Regarding the security of Lady Irvaine and those things concerning the king, I outrank you. When dealing with your title, land, and vargar, I defer to your commands.”
With a curt nod, Tomas turned to Horacian. “Your request for peaceful surrender is accepted.”
“The terms?”
“No conditions. Sir Jorndar, not the town of Kyrenton, defected. I see no reason to penalize the people for the foolish actions of a foreign invader.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“I do have a request, though.”
“Speak it and I will do my best to see that it is fulfilled.”
“I request a search and seizure of Lord Wisten. He is a fugitive of the crown.”
“Consider it done.” Horacian rose clumsily to his feet and bowed. “Would you also like free passage of the army through the town as well?”
“Does Sir Jorndar know that the council is defecting from his leadership?”
“Not yet. There has been little activity beyond the walls of the vargar, and no communication save demands for supplies.”
“Then, I would like to request we keep up the ruse for as long as possible. There is no need to alert Sir Jorndar.”
“What are you planning Tomas?” Dentin was watching Tomas warily. “You have that look in your eye that suggests you already have a plan of assault.”
“It depends on whether or not Wisten is found outside the vargar.” He turned back to Horacian. “How might I get in touch with the council regarding our future plans?”
“Send word to the Leaping Hart in Lorinder Court. I have taken rooms there.”
Tomas nodded. “Your faithfulness will be remembered, Horacian.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Horacian bowed and trudged back the way he came.
Dentin signaled his nearest man. “Sound the dispersal. We aren’t going to fight today. War council in my tent or yours?” he asked Tomas.
“Yours.” Then without signaling me, Tomas pulled us around. Again I was left grabbing at his overtunic and holding on as we plunged back in among the tents.
“It wouldn’t hurt to give me some sign we are about to ride next time,” I commented in his ear.
His reply was lost to the wind, but he shifted both reins to his right hand and laid his left one over mine. Squeezing my fingers, he pressed them more firmly against his chest.
“None of that now,” Dentin protested as we all slowed to a walk.
&nb
sp; “Oh, leave them alone, Dent.” Rathenridge pushed his mount to the front. Dentin’s mouth tightened in displeasure.
“One day he will go too far,” Dentin muttered as he watched Rathenridge join Landry.
“He enjoys getting a reaction out of people,” Tomas commented.
“I don’t think he will enjoy the reaction I shall give him when he crosses the line.”
“Remember he is one of my oldest and closest friends, Dentin. Allow that fact to temper your reaction.”
“I might,” he muttered.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter Twenty-Six
The king’s party arrived that evening, throwing the whole camp into chaos as everyone rushed to prepare his entourage’s living quarters and settle him into the elaborate canvas structure already made ready for him. I witnessed only a small sample of the flustered rushing of servants and couriers in Tomas and my brief journey between our tent and Dentin’s to resume the planning meeting. It had been interrupted by the king’s arrival.
With the king in the camp, Tomas didn’t want me out of his sight. With the grip he kept on my hand, I might as well be chained to his arm with the manacles we left hanging from the end of our bed.
“Any word from Kyrenton?” Tomas asked the moment we stepped beneath Dentin’s roof.
As large as our tent, his shelter obviously had a different primary purpose. Seven chairs of various designs were scattered about a wide collapsible table strewn with maps, parchment, measuring tools, quill pens, and an inkwell set, currently capped. Rathenridge and Dentin bent over the far end of the table, studying a curling parchment bit between them. Rathenridge’s flamboyant hair contrasted starkly with Dentin’s muted brown and unassuming manner.
“Lord Wisten is in the vargar.”
“Allied with Jorndar?” Tomas asked.
“Read for yourself.” Rathenridge handed Tomas the parchment. Curious, I stood on tiptoe to read it when Tomas pulled the parchment flat enough to see clearly.
Wisten spotted in outer bailey. Source inside says he met with Jorndar. No developments yet.
“They don’t know and neither do we.”
“You two know Sir Jorndar best.” Dentin glanced from Tomas to Rathenridge and back. “Will he listen to Wisten?”
Duty: a novel of Rhynan Page 20