Fire And Ice (Book 1)

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Fire And Ice (Book 1) Page 61

by Wayne Krabbenhoft III


  “So you are not angry with me?” Devon asked her, sounding a little relieved.

  “I did not say that. You should have stayed with him, or at least gone after him.” That was not fair to Devon, but she didn’t care. He was here and Coran was who knew where.

  “He will be all right,” Devon said and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

  By Alys’s face Katelyn could tell she did not share the sentiment.

  Alys knelt and straightened the blankets of their cots. Then she stood and went to the outer room of the tent. She jumped at seeing someone already in there. Devon was out checking with the men who had arrived from Anders. He would be leading them in the coming battle. Katelyn was with Martin doing whatever it was that leaders do. She did not know what. Only that they had taken horses. So it was a surprise that someone should be in the tent.

  “Daughter,” Lord Meneroe greeted her briskly. “It is good to see you again so soon.” He looked around the sparsely furnished tent. “I hear that you sleep in the same tent as the Queen. That could bring you all kinds of interesting opportunities.” A smirk was on his face as he stepped towards her.

  “What do you want? You should not be in here,” she protested, but it did no good. Not with her father.

  He was looking at her pants and the shirt in a man’s design. “Does this represent what you have been learning at court? These are not clothes for a proper young lady.”

  “They are only for riding,” she explained quickly. She did not want him to know that she was learning to use a sword too.

  He nodded, unconcerned by her choice in wardrobes. That made her worry all the more. “I am here because you can do the family a service.”

  She shook her head frantically. “I already told you where Coran was, please do not ask any more.”

  “Please? Is this the way I raised you? You are a Meneroe. You will do what I tell you to do.” He grabbed her arm and twisted. She stifled a squeal. “Are you going to help me?”

  “Yes. Yes,” she said in pain. He let go. “What do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to get the Queen away from the camp. There is an old road, more like a trail that goes south towards an old bridge that spans the river. Think of a way to get her there.”

  “Are...Are you going to hurt her?” she asked in a small voice.

  “If you bring her there like I ask than I think she can remain unharmed. I cannot make any promises though.”

  “I cannot,” she decided defiantly.

  “That is a shame,” he said regretfully. “I guess that she will have to find out that you told where Coran was going. Do you think she would like to know that you were the cause of his death?”

  “Death?” she exclaimed. “What do you mean?”

  “I passed on the information to someone who wanted him dead. He was very pleased. And very eager to follow up on the information. Will you help me now?” He waited, and watched her reaction. When she didn’t answer right away he went on. “Then there is that young man of yours. Devon I believe his name is. It would be a shame if anything were to happen to him.”

  Alys stared at her father in horror. She knew that he never made idle threats. She didn’t have to ask what he might do, or how he might accomplish it. “I will find a way to do what you ask.”

  “Good. I will see you there,” he said and pushed the tent flap out of his way in leaving.

  Alys sank down onto one of the cushions in abject misery.

  Katelyn rode next to Commander Martin out of the camp by the road they had first entered it. They circled around to the north side of the defensive perimeter where another sort of camp had been made. Men wearing coats and pants, mainly of leather, were moving about their own fires. The clothes they wore were in several shades of brown and greens. She could imagine them fading into the ground or forest. The men looked up to watch them ride by.

  “These are the volunteers,” Martin explained. “They are not suited for the discipline of joining a unit, but they have other skills that are useful. They are hunters mostly, woodsmen and men of the mountains. They know how to move without being seen.”

  “I take it that you have some ideas?” she questioned. She passed one tent where a man stood outside of it. He had a dark, bushy beard and wore dirty leathers of brown. He inclined his head to her.

  “I was thinking that they could be placed in the trees that flank the field Roland was looking at. They could use their skills best there,” he said as they turned left down an open aisle between camp sites. “They could also be useful at night.”

  She watched the faces of the men in the camps. They were hard faces of men who knew what killing was about. That they were here meant that they were ready to use the knowledge they possessed. “Is this what you wanted to show me?”

  “Part of it,” he stated and led her to another camp even more disorganized.

  Tents were set up every which way and to her surprise there were women among the men. Some of those men had gray in their hair and others were too young to shave yet. Most had long bows and full quivers nearby. There were also rusty swords and axes present. Instead of the hard faces of the previous camp these faces were a mix of wary innocence and nervous determination.

  Her horse stopped when Martin’s did before a gathering crowd. They watched her curiously, maybe not realizing who she was. “Why are you here?” She asked a skinny man with tuffs of hair sticking out of the sides of his head.

  “To fight,” he said simply.

  “Soldiers aren’t the only ones who can fight.” A woman stepped up to the front. She was a large woman in a plain gray dress. “We aren’t gonna roll over and let them take what’s ours.” The people around and behind her voiced their agreement.

  Katelyn was pleasantly surprised by the resolve shown by such plain folk. They reminded her why she was fighting. It was good to know that it was worth it. She straightened in the saddle to address them. “I thank you for any help you can give.” She had a sudden idea. One that would give them some purpose and also keep them from the forefront of battle. “Perhaps I could ask you to perform an important task.”

  “What task?” the woman asked her first.

  “Someone needs to hold this side of the river in case we need to fall back and regroup. Also the wounded will need to be brought across for care. And the healers protected. Would some of you be willing to help?”

  There were some approving comments. “We can do that,” the woman said as if she spoke for them all. Then she leaned forward. “No offense, My Lady, but who are you?”

  “That’s the Queen,” someone shouted and the woman and the others in front went white in the face and practically fell to their knees.

  “Forgive me,” the woman begged. “I am from Taragon and have not seen you before. I meant no offense. I swear.”

  “It is all right,” she assured them all. “I am the one who is grateful for your being here. Please rise.”

  They looked to each other, uncertain if she really meant it. Slowly they started to stand. “We will hold the bridge,” the skinny man promised and his words were echoed by the rest.

  “Thank you,” she told them honestly. She turned her horse and shook the reins to take the lead until Martin caught up.

  She was not in the mood for speech right then. She had asked people who had no experience in fighting to risk their lives. Would she use anyone? She had used Coran to get the North. No, she couldn’t blame herself for that. He would have gone no matter what she had said. He was the only person who could get away with defying her. She was never going to tell him that though. It would not do to have him thinking he could get away with anything.

  They returned to her tent where Martin left her, he took her horse with him sensing her mood. She entered the square structure that was home for now. Alys was talking with Devon on the cushions. They both looked as she entered.

  “Finished with business for the day?” Alys asked her.

  “I think so,” she replied sound
ing a bit sad.

  “What is the matter?”

  “Nothing. I am just a little tense.”

  “Hmm. Maybe you could use a relaxing ride?” the brown haired girl suggested.

  “That sounds like a good idea.” Devon shrugged. “A nice ride with nowhere important to go.”

  It did sound good to get away from the camp for a time. But... “Martin would not approve, and I have just returned from a short ride.”

  “Martin is not the Queen,” Alys stated matter of factly. “But if you need a reason, how about inspecting the old bridge to the south?”

  “You mean the rope one that only one or two can cross at a time?”

  “It is a legitimate inspection. How do you know what is there unless you see it firsthand. It could be important later on.” Alys was very convincing.

  “All right. I should go tell Martin just the same,” Katelyn decided.

  The road they followed south was little more than a worn track through the trees that was barely wide enough for two horses abreast. The track ran parallel to the river which narrowed the further they went. The trees were winter bare of leaves and the rolling landscape offered plenty of places to hide.

  Katelyn rode beside Alys with Martin and Devon in the lead. Four Knights brought up the rear. It was a simple ride to a seldom used bridge. Because of the mild winter, birds were in abundance. It was obvious by the amount of chirping.

  The road dipped and the land to either side rose as they passed through a large copse of trees. Martin slowed and eventually stopped altogether. Everyone heard the silence that descended on the forest. The birds had gone silent. The Commander surveyed the surroundings with a critical eye as the others exchanged worrisome glances.

  The men that appeared from behind trees surprised some of the horses. Katelyn’s black remained calm and she patted its neck to keep it that way, for now. The newcomers were all armored and had swords already drawn. There were about twenty of them. Too many for the six men with her. From the side of the road another five men approached on horses and a burning torch was on their sur coats. The one in the lead she knew.

  “What a pleasant surprise,” Lord Meneroe said with a wicked grin. “It seems the question of my daughter’s loyalty has been answered.”

  Katelyn looked to her friend with dawning horror. “What is going on? Alys?” But Alys would not look at her.

  “The taste of betrayal,” Meneroe said pleasantly. “There is someone who will be very happy to see you, your Majesty.”

  “And who would that be?” she said with scorn.

  “Elthzidor. He wants you dead, but if I bring you to him alive he will honor me above the others.”

  “You said you would not hurt her,” Alys protested from her saddle.

  “And I will not. Elthzidor, on the other hand, will do what he wants.”

  Martin and Devon moved to draw their weapons. “I would not do that,” Meneroe told them. “Or the Queen dies first.” He was close enough now to carry through on the threat. They reluctantly let their hands drop to their sides.

  “How could you do this?” Katelyn nearly shrieked at her one time friend.

  Alys still would not meet her eyes.

  “She has already betrayed you once,” Meneroe stated and Alys slumped in her saddle. “She told me where Coran was going.”

  Katelyn fixed Alys with a look of pure hatred. “I cared for you like a sister.”

  “Enough!” Meneroe ordered. “You will drop your weapons and come with us.”

  “Why Lord Meneroe?” she had to ask. “Why do you do this?”

  “Power,” he answered incredulously. “What else is there?”

  “And I suppose you were behind the attack on me after my crowning?”

  “That was a bit premature, but yes. Too bad that it failed.” His smile infuriated her.

  “You would kill the Queen you swore an oath to?” She just could not believe that a Lord of the Plain could be so selfish.

  “An oath to a woman is no oath at all.”

  Katelyn shook her head sadly. “You want to know what else there is besides power?” she asked the man who smiled so smugly. “How about friendship, or love?”

  “Foolishness,” Meneroe snickered.

  “Really?” She turned to Martin. “I think we have heard enough, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “What is this?” Meneroe asked in confusion. The irritating smirk was gone.

  Martin put two fingers in his mouth and blew. There was a high pitched whistle that carried in the still air. All around them men appeared in clothes of browns and greens. They seemed to rise right out of the earth. In less than a minute each of Meneroe’s men were covered by swords from at least two of the woodsmen.

  Katelyn allowed herself a brief, triumphant smile. Meneroe was decidedly less than happy himself. His scowl was very satisfying. “You said something about betrayal?”

  “Where did they come from?” he said in surprise. “I had the road watched.”

  “For men in armor maybe, but not for woodsmen from Anders, or hunters from Tyelin.”

  Meneroe was staring at his daughter as he realized the full implications of what had happened. “You have betrayed your family. You will pay for this.”

  “I think it is you who will be paying,” Katelyn told him. “If you think to frighten her again I do not recommend it. Oh, you did scare her that first time at Summerhall. It took her a whole day to decide to come and tell me everything. I expected you to go to her again. Then you approached her about Coran. I knew that would not be the last time, so when you came to her in our tent I just could not pass up the opportunity.”

  “Coran?” Meneroe asked in confusion. Things were not going the way he had expected at all.

  “No, he did not go to Grendin,” she said and watched the despair grow on his features.

  “Your Majesty,” Martin spoke up. “I believe first things first.” He raised his voice. “Order your men to drop their weapons.”

  Lord Meneroe remained silent. His eyes went this way and that to assess the situation. His men knew they were surrounded and flung their weapons to the ground. “Father?” one of the horsemen said from beside Meneroe.

  The decision was taken from him as brown garbed woodsmen grabbed his sword arm and wrestled the man to the ground. They grabbed the four men who tried to remain mounted as well. In a few moments Meneroe and all his men had their hands tied behind their backs and were in the dirt, kneeling before the Queen.

  “Lord Meneroe,” Martin began formally. “I hereby charge you with treason.” He turned his head to Katelyn “The penalty is death.”

  She knew the penalty and how it was to be inforced. Not that Soros’ proscribed punishment had been used more than twice. It applied only to the leaders of any treasonous acts. The guilty would be tied spread eagle onto a wagon wheel. Their arms and legs would be broken and then...Well it was not pleasant. Fortunately she did not have to be so brutal. The question that ran through her mind was what to do with the others. The four men had to be his sons, Alys’ brothers. They did what their Lord Father told them to do, but still they were directly involved by being here. The guards were a different matter since they had little choice in any decisions.

  “Your Majesty?” one of the bound men, a guard called to her. “We only did what we were ordered to do.” Some of the others added their agreement.

  She looked them over carefully but did not respond, then turned her gaze to the four men at Meneroe’s side. “You are his sons?”

  They nodded briefly. “Do any of you have anything to say in your defense?”

  The first spat in the dirt. “I regret nothing.”

  “Then you are a fool,” she told him and waited for the others to speak. The next two ignored her defiantly, but the fourth, who was also the youngest, he had to be only a year or two older than Alys, opened his mouth to speak. “I did not agree with my father’s actions, but I have no excuse for my participatio
n.” He swallowed. “I only hope that you will allow me to fight in the coming battle.”

  “Why? For honor?” she replied in a mocking tone. “House Meneroe has no honor.”

  Alys leaned close to whisper in her ear. “Stannis is telling the truth. He did not like the way father behaved. He was the only one who was ever nice to me.” She finished and leaned away.

  Katelyn considered their words. It was time for judgment. “Lord Meneroe. You are stripped of your titles and lands. They are now the property of the crown.” His face darkened further by the word. “You are also to be taken directly from here to the center of the camp. There you will be hung for the traitor you are.” There was no other choice for him. He had to die.

  “Is that wise?” Martin asked in a hushed voice. “In front of the whole army?”

  “They will know what happened soon enough,” she explained. “Meneroe has not only betrayed me, but plotted to betray all of them as well.” She turned to the sons. “You are to be taken to Stockton to be dealt with by the headsmen.” She regretted that, but had no illusions that they would not plot against her as well. Because they were here gave her the right to execute them. The men’s faces were long. One started to cry. She ignored it. “Stannis.” The youngest looked up into her face. He had not cried. “You will lead the guards of Meneroe in battle. But I warn you now. If you even think of betraying me I will see that Soros’ punishment is inforced upon you.”

  Stannis’ face was white. “I will not.”

  “You should also know that Meneroe is no more. If you fight it will not get you your lands back.”

  “I understand,” he replied.

  Once again there was little choice. “See that they are brought,” she ordered Martin. She turned her horse around and booted its ribs. The black quickened its pace and she was soon away from the area. Alys came up beside her and she knew that Devon and the other three knights were following.

  “You did what you had to do,” Alys told her.

  “I know, but what about you? That could not have been easy for you.”

  “It was not,” she agreed. “I wonder what I will do now that Meneroe is no more.”

 

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