by Peter Kenson
“Are you all right, mistress?”
“Well I feel as though I’m going to be bruised all over tomorrow but I’m still alive. Thanks to you, sir.”
“I’m glad to have been of service, mistress….?”
“Rachel, sir. And may I know your name?”
“My name is Jeren and I’m very pleased to meet you Rachel.”
“Lord Jeren,” she gasped, struggling free of his arm and climbing quickly to her feet. “I’m sorry, my lord. I didn’t recognise you.”
“Rachel, I’m only Jeren. And there’s no reason you should have recognised me. But I’m still very pleased to have met you.”
At that moment it seemed as though the whole world arrived together. Seb threw himself off his horse and ran over closely followed by Baltur.
“Rachel, are you hurt?”
“Jeren, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, thank you,” they both chorused together, before looking at each other and bursting into laughter. “We’re both fine.”
The other wagons had turned to come hurrying back, with Josep and Agnes looking worried until they saw Rachel laughing with a group of young men. Then David arrived at the head of a troop of horse.
“I seem to have missed all the excitement,” he remarked. “Prince Jeren, would you care to introduce your friends?”
“My lord, this young lady is Rachel but I’m afraid I do not know the names of her companions. Rachel, this is Lord David Held, the military commander of the Lyenar.”
The other introductions were quickly made as Ash rode over to report.
“Nine dead, four wounded and seven prisoners, my lord. All from High Falls. No casualties on our side but one of the caravan guards has a nasty gash on his arm.”
“Take the wounded to Marta and secure the prisoners. If these men are from High Falls, do we know the strength of their remaining garrison?”
“Not yet, my lord. But I’m sure they can be persuaded to tell us.”
“Be very persuasive. I want to take that place tomorrow before reinforcements can arrive from Marmoros.
“Josep, I’m sorry that you were attacked like this but I’m glad that my men arrived in time to prevent it becoming more serious.”
“Thank you, Lord Held. My family and I owe you and especially Prince Jeren, a debt of gratitude that we can never repay.”
“No Josep, you owe me nothing,” Jeren replied. “You are welcome here among your people. And in any case,” he continued with a smile at Rachel, “I have already been thanked very prettily.”
Chapter 22
They called a halt early that afternoon, short of the river crossing and out of sight of the town. The garrison might know they were coming but they did not know when and David reasoned that there was little point in showing his hand too early. They would be concerned, of course, when the patrol failed to return but Josep had said that they were already on alert and a little extra worry would do no harm at all.
After a short discussion about the potential uses of a range of implements being heated in the smithy fire, two of the survivors from the patrol had become quite voluble. The garrison at High Falls totalled fifty eight fighters of whom twenty were now either dead or prisoners. However, the city walls were high enough to require ladders of considerable length and there were some interesting refinements to the gatehouse which made a frontal attack unlikely to succeed, even against a handful of defenders.
“We need somebody on the inside,” David told the council. “If we can get even two or three men into the town, then we can drop a rope over the walls as we did at Highport.”
“There are one or two wagons that could easily be adapted to conceal three men,” Grekan offered. “But there’s no way they will allow a Lyenar wagon inside the gates.”
“Well what makes a wagon look Lyenar? Paintwork down the sides and a highly decorated canopy. We can paint over the woodwork and replace the canopy with a plain one. Then it could just be a farm wagon or travellers passing through.”
“Can’t be a farm wagon,” one of the councillors pointed out. “Wouldn’t have a canopy at all. It’ll have to be travellers but the drivers can’t look like Lyenar either.”
“… or warriors,” David added. “What about those two who arrived with the Benyahim family? Neither of them are Lyenar. We could pass them off as brother and sister, travelling to relatives in Keldis.”
“You can’t do that,” Jeren exclaimed. “Rachel is only a girl. This is too dangerous.”
David frowned at him. “Prince Jeren, perhaps I might have a word with you in private. Outside.” He crossed the tent and lifted the flap, waiting for Jeren to follow.
He led them out of earshot of the council tent, before speaking. “Jeren, do you remember our discussion at the ford while we were waiting for those horsemen? A commander has to be able to order his men into danger, knowing that some of them may not come back. Otherwise he might as well tie one hand behind his back.”
“But she’s not a man. She’s a girl.”
“Yes she is,” David agreed. “And a very pretty one. But don’t forget, she chose to accompany Josep. She chose to be here. And she could choose not to help us on this mission. If that is her decision, I will respect it and not press her. But she needs to be asked.”
Jeren stood looking very unhappy for a full minute. “Very well. But I have one request.”
David waited for him to continue.
“I want to be the one to ask her. If I am sending her into danger, I cannot hide behind somebody else.”
“That, my prince, is a very responsible decision and one that I am proud of you for making. Now, shall we return to the council?”
The remainder of the council meeting dealt with the logistics of preparing the wagon and making it ready to approach the town gates. It would take several hours to modify the appearance of the wagon and drill breathing holes into the concealed compartments so that the fighters would not suffocate on the way. The wagon would not be ready before nightfall and, in any case, could not be seen to approach the town from the Yarford direction where the Lyenar army was known to be.
David fretted at the delay but there was no option but to take the wagon across the ford under cover of darkness and hide it in the hills on the far side, so that it could then arrive at the town from the direction of Aryx. He also decided to send the majority of the horsemen with the wagon to protect it overnight, leaving only the spearmen and foot archers to defend the column.
As soon as the meeting broke up, Jeren hurried away to look for Josep’s family. He found Rachel chatting happily with Agnes and Beth, preparing vegetables for the evening meal and apparently fully recovered from her ordeal. She jumped up as she saw him approach, spilling a bowl of root vegetables over the ground.
“Prince Jeren. What are you doing here?”
“I came to see if you were all right and…” he hesitated slightly, “…and also I have something to ask you.”
Agnes and Beth smiled at each other behind Rachel’s back. “You go on, dear,” Agnes said. “We’ll clear up here.”
Rachel wiped her hands nervously on her apron as the two walked off together.
“You said you had something to ask me, my lord,” she prompted.
“Please call me Jeren… or Jerry. And yes, I do have something to ask you. And Seb too, if he’s around. Uh, is he….? I mean… are you…?”
Rachel considered that for a moment. “Jerry. I like the sound of that. I shall call you Jerry if I may. And no. Seb and I are not seeing each other, if that’s what you’re asking. He’s a good friend but he already has a very beautiful girl back in Puerto Reis.”
“Oh well, that’s alright then.” Jeren’s face lightened for a minute before relapsing into a more pensive look.
“Was that what you wanted to ask me, Jerry?” Rachel teased.
“No, I mean yes. But I have to ask you to do something for me… for my people. It could be da
ngerous, so if you say no, I will quite understand,” he finished in a rush.
She put a hand on his arm and stopped walking, pulling him round to face her. Jeren tried to look at her, then swiftly looked down at the ground by her side.
“Jerry, what is it? What is it you need me to do?”
“I… I have to ask if you and Seb will drive a wagon with some of Lord David’s men hidden inside, up to the town gates and try to smuggle them inside.”
“Of course I will. And I’m sure Seb will agree too. Jerry, look at me.”
Slowly he looked up at her face and tried to force a weak smile.
“You’re crying,” she murmured. “Why are you crying?”
“I’m not crying,” he said, brushing the traitor tear away with the sleeve of his jerkin. “It’s just that I’ve never had to do this before. And certainly not with someone that I’m starting to care about.”
Rachel reached out and took both Jeren’s hands in her own. “Oh Jerry. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. I owe you my life, my prince, and I will do whatever I can to help you.”
“Thank you. But I want you to promise you’ll be careful. And for my part, I promise I will do everything in my power to protect Seb and yourself.”
They walked on a little way before he smiled at her. “Of course, I’m technically not your prince because you’re not actually Lyenar.”
“Well you’re a prince to me,” Rachel said, tucking her arm through his. “Now I think we’d better find Seb and tell him what we’ve just let him in for.”
***
Twenty four hours later they were reloading the wagon for the final time in the hills north of High Falls. The three men had been sealed into the secret compartments and the goods and tools that a young brother and sister might carry when going to visit relatives, were being carefully stacked around them. One of the councillors from the Keldis contingent had insisted on coming this far with them and had spent much of the day rehearsing Seb and Rachel on details of names and places they might be expected to know near the relatives they were supposedly visiting.
David had asked Kemon and Lem to take two of the three spaces as they had worked together so well at Highport. Carl, the wagon guard who had come in with Josep, volunteered for the third place and his application was endorsed by Ash who had seen what he could do with that battle axe. It had caused some minor complications in that one of the compartments had to be both lengthened and widened to accommodate his frame but the extra power that he brought to the infiltration team was enough to justify the effort.
Rachel and Seb said goodbye to their escorts and Seb steered the wagon down onto the trail from Aryx. It was mid-afternoon but it had been dull and cloudy all day and there was a hint of drizzle in the air as they huddled together on the driving bench. All traces of Lyenar decoration had been removed from the wagon and as they came in sight of the town walls, they were pleased to see that the gates were not immediately slammed shut in their faces.
The approach to the town gates lay through the still deserted caravanserai where they had camped two days before. The drizzle was becoming more persistent now and gave them an excuse to pull their hoods closer around them in case any of the guards had been on-duty that day. As they reached the gates, they were challenged by a couple of damp and bored looking spearmen, one of whom disappeared back inside to fetch the sergeant.
“What’s yer names? And where yer headed?” the sergeant demanded as he emerged.
“My name’s Seb and this is my sister Rachel. We’re on our way to visit our uncle in Keldis and we’re looking for somewhere dry to stay overnight.”
“What’cha carrying?”
“Some grain that we’re hoping to sell in Kell and some farm tools as a gift for our uncle.”
“Shall I go and fetch Yanus, Sarge?”
“What? Fer one wagon load of farm goods? He’d have my guts if I dragged ‘im out in this weather fer that. Charge ‘em one silver talon and let ‘em through.”
“That’s too much,” Seb exclaimed. “We’re only a family of farmers. We can’t afford so much.”
“Toll’s one silver talon. If ya can’t pay cash, we’ll take it in goods. Inn’s in the main square,” the sergeant grunted, turning to go back in.
“Don’t you think we’d better search the wagon, Sarge?” one of the spearmen said. “Make sure they’re telling the truth like.”
The sergeant hesitated, torn between duty and getting back into the dry, warm guardhouse.
“Naw, there’s no need for that,” a voice said inside his head.
“Naw, there’s no need for that,” he repeated automatically, looking puzzled as the words came out.
“Let ‘em through. It’s only a couple of kids.”
“Let ‘em through. It’s only a couple of kids,” he repeated, a deep frown now creasing his forehead. Shaking his head, he hurried into the guardhouse and slammed the door behind him.
Rachel handed over a silver talon from her purse and the men stood aside to let them pass. Inside the gates, the street sloped diagonally upwards before disappearing behind a row of houses in severe need of some care and attention. They had been told before they set out that the main square was at the top of the town in front of the residence of the local ruler so they followed the road up the slope. Most of the houses and shops that they passed were dark and shuttered and some had clearly not been lived in for several years. Occasionally a face would look out through a window or a shop doorway, only to quickly vanish again into the gloomy interior.
When they arrived at the main square, the contrast could not have been more striking. Yanus’ residence was directly in front of them, an imposing three storey building with freshly whitewashed walls and exposed wooden beams. To their right was a small but ornate, stone built church with a square tower and more gargoyles than the two youngsters had ever seen in their lives.
But all the noise was coming from their left where a welcoming inn dominated the square by its presence. It was not as big as the residence, only two storeys high but of similar construction and with a small livery to the side. There were tables and benches outside, unoccupied now because of the drizzle, but the doors and windows were wide open and light and sounds of voices flooded out across the slick cobbles.
They headed towards the livery yard where a friendly stable boy came to take charge of the horses. Rachel went with him, chattering freely, to ensure that Seb was left undisturbed as he rearranged the contents of the wagon to release their three passengers.
“You two stay here,” Kemon ordered Lem and Carl. “Stay out of sight and keep quiet until I come back for you.
“Seb, you and Rachel will have to go into the inn. It’ll look suspicious otherwise. Order some food and try to get a table in a corner somewhere. I’m going to take a look around the town and I’ll end up at the inn. I won’t join you but keep an eye out for me.”
The tap room of the inn was crowded, mostly with off-duty soldiers whose conversation tapered away to nothing as Seb and Rachel entered the room. All heads turned to look at them as they stood, damp and slightly nervous, just inside the doorway. Strangers were obviously not a common sight in High Falls. The landlord, a large, jovial man came hurrying round from behind the bar.
“Welcome, young sir. Welcome miss. Name’s Grimes. Welcome to my establishment. Let me find you a table,” he said, ushering them towards a corner where a tall, sad-faced man sat nursing an empty tankard.
“Tad, you go and find yourself a new table,” he ordered. “I need this one for this young couple here.”
Tad looked up, muttering under his breath but showing no inclination to move.
“And have a beer on the house, while you’re about it.”
He brightened up at that and shuffled his way off the bench to make room for them as the landlord wiped the table down with a damp cloth.
“Now then. What can I get you folks?”
“Some hot food
would be good,” Seb replied. “And a jug of your best ale.”
“Very good, sir. We, uh… acquired some very nice wine a few weeks ago which might be more to the young lady’s taste.”
“Thank you but no. Ale will be fine,” Rachel assured him with a smile.
The conversations gradually resumed around the room as they settled themselves into the corner. The food turned out to be a very acceptable mutton broth served with a platter of steaming vegetables and they both felt a little guilty about Carl and Lem, stuck outside in the wagon with only cold provisions.
During the meal, Rachel felt a growing suspicion that they were still being watched and narrowed it down to a group of soldiers, standing at the far end of the bar. One man in particular kept staring at her and then turning away quickly as she looked up.
“Seb, don’t look now, but there’s a man in that group at the far end of the bar who keeps staring at me. I don’t remember him but I think I may have been recognised.”
“Okay. Let’s just wait and see what he does for the moment. He’s obviously not sure because he hasn’t done anything about it yet.”
Just then, Kemon walked in through the open door and strolled over to the bar. Nobody looked up. There was no drop in the conversation levels. Nobody noticed.
“How does he do that?” Rachel whispered. “It’s so unfair.”
Seb laughed and as Kemon glanced at him, lifted his chin slightly towards the end of the bar. Kemon raised his eyebrows in return and turned casually to look where Seb had pointed as the landlord put a pot of ale in front of him.
The subject of Rachel’s concern was clearly talking about them because several of the men in the group turned to look down the bar and then turned back shaking their heads. The man was not to be put off though and, detaching himself from the group, made his way a little unsteadily across the bar, staring at Rachel the whole way. He passed Kemon without a second glance.