by Peter Kenson
“I know you,” he stated, pointing at Rachel. “You were with that group that came through ‘ere two days ago.”
“I think you’re mistaken, sir.” Seb slid along the bench and stood up, easing himself away from the edge of the table. “We only arrived this afternoon and we’ve never been here before.”
The man ignored him. “No, you’re the one. ‘Andy with a frying pan aren’t you? You’re the one what did ‘Arry’s face in.”
Seb rested his hand lightly on the hilt of his sword. “I really think you must be mistaken, sir.”
The man looked at Seb for the first time and his eyes narrowed. “You was there too,” he accused. “I’m going to fetch the sergeant.”
He turned to go and somehow fell over Kemon, dragging both of them to the ground and hitting his head hard against a stool as he went down. Kemon got to his feet looking very apologetic.
“I think my friend has had one too many, landlord.”
Grimes came round the end of the bar and studied the man lying prone on the floor.
“Here, you lot,” he said to the group of men who had been edging closer to see what was going on. “Help me put him outside to sleep it off.” He grabbed hold of the man’s legs and two of the others took an arm each. They lifted him out through the door and laid him on one of the tables.
“Pity the rain’s stopped,” he remarked as they came back in. “Might have sobered him up a bit. Still what do you say to another round? On the house.”
He steered the men back down to the far end of the bar and arrayed a set of full tankards in front of them. Once they were settled, he hurried down to the corner where Seb had seated himself again next to Rachel.
“I’m thinking… perhaps you young folks might be more comfortable in the back room. And your friend here as well.”
Seb looked at Kemon who nodded. Grimes lit a taper and touched it to the wick of a lantern on a hook by a small door. With a final glance around the bar, he opened the door and ducked through. The room was small, with an earth floor, no windows and one other door. It was sparsely furnished with a rough table and four chairs and a cot along one wall. Kemon looked enquiringly at the other door.
“Leads directly to the livery yard,” Grimes explained. “Sit yourselves down and tell me what’s going on.”
“What do you mean?” Seb said as Kemon flopped down on the nearest chair with a half-grin on his face. “We’re just travellers on our way to Keldis.”
“Yeah,” Grimes replied. “And my uncle’s the Archdeacon of the Holy Cross.” He sat down himself and waited for Seb and Rachel to take the other two chairs.
“Right, now then. There’s an army of Lyenar coming this way to attack Marmoros. They’re not going to bypass us and leave a hostile garrison in their rear. They’re going to take us out on their way. So when is the attack coming?”
“We’re going to be attacked?” Seb queried. “We don’t know anything about that. We’ve got to get out of here,” he said, half rising.
“It’s alright Seb,” Kemon cut in with a smile. “The lad’s quite good at this, don’t you think?”
“Very good,” Grimes replied. “If I didn’t know better, I’d almost believe him.”
Seb looked at the two of them in astonishment. “You two know each other?”
“Not exactly,” Kemon smiled. “But there was a Captain of Horse in Duke Theron’s army who looked remarkably like our landlord here.”
Grimes laughed. “Twenty years I served before I came here. Can’t say I remember your face though.”
“Nobody does. That’s why I’m still alive. Twenty years is a long time to serve the Duke. And you still serve him now.”
“Who told you that?”
“Doesn’t matter. If I answer your first question, what will you do?”
“Depends on the answer.” Grimes paused for a moment. “Okay, the Duke would not be unhappy to see a change of governance in High Falls. The penalties on the trade routes passing here are quite restrictive. Now answer the question.”
“The attack will come tonight. We’re here to prepare the way.”
“How many of you are there?”
“Just the three of us.”
“Just the three of you plus the two in the wagon outside.”
Kemon spread his hands, palm up, in apology.
“So what do you need?”
“A way in. We have ropes we can drop over the walls if there’s somewhere we can do it unobserved or…”
He broke off at the sound of a soft knock on the door. Grimes crossed quickly to open the door and stooped to listen to what was being said. When he shut the door again and turned to face them, his face was grim.
“Jatson woke up. He came storming in to the inn looking for you and shouting at the top of his voice. When he couldn’t find you, he ran out again saying he was going to the sergeant.”
“Damn,” Kemon said. “I knew I should have killed him.”
“Not in my inn you don’t,” Grimes growled. “You’d better go. The sergeant will be down at the main gate. He sleeps in the gatehouse. You won’t get there before Jatson but you might get there in time to stop them sounding the alarm.”
He opened the door to the yard and ushered them out. “Go now. I’ll try to keep the guardsmen here but I won’t be able to do so if the tocsin is rung.”
They collected Carl and Lem from the wagon and set off at a run with Kemon bringing the others up to date as they went.
“How long have we got before Lord David’s men get here?” Carl asked.
“They should have started crossing the ford as soon as it was dark. They’re going to meet with Feynor’s horsemen at the fork in the trail and wait for the signal. We have to prevent the alarm being sounded until they’re in position.”
They slowed down as they rounded the final corner on the slope down to the gatehouse. There were no lights visible anywhere and the cloud cover prevented any glow from the moons. Nevertheless, Kemon kept them close against the walls of the houses in case any of the sentries happened to look back into the town.
The gatehouse itself consisted of two towers connected together by a covered gallery at the top of the walls. The gallery spanned the entrance tunnel which was about five paces long from front to back with a set of gates at both ends. Access to the gallery and the upper levels of the towers was by a pair of open stairs on the inside of the walls on either side of the gates.
From the cover of the last house, there were twenty paces of open ground to the stairs on the left of the gate and twice that to the ones on the right. They waited until the sentries patrolling the walls to the side of the towers, were moving away and then dashed across to the base of the nearer stairs. They nearly made it before the door to the guardroom burst open and Jatson came rushing out, heading for the same set of stairs. Light spilled out through the open doorway, catching them full in its glare and Jatson stopped in his tracks as he caught sight of them, a yell forming on his lips even as he died with Kemon’s knife in his throat.
Another throwing knife was already in Kemon’s hand as he changed direction and ran over to the fallen body. He knelt to retrieve his blade as the others ran past him and flattened themselves against the walls on either side of the open door. The glare of light dimmed momentarily as the sergeant appeared in the doorway, still tucking his undershirt into his breeches. The swordbelt in his other hand, clattered to the floor as he hastily backed away from the two sword points that materialised in front of him. Seb and Lem followed him into the guardroom but the sergeant had been the only occupant.
“Secure him,” Kemon ordered Seb and Rachel. “Carl, take the stairs on this side. Try to take the sentry quietly and find out how many more are in the tower. Lem and I will take the far stairs.”
Seb pushed the point of his sword into the sergeant’s chest, forcing him back into one of the chairs. He sat down abruptly and his eyes widened as Rachel reached under her skirt a
nd produced a wicked looking stiletto that Marta had thoughtfully given her. She pulled a sheet off the cot in the corner and cut long strips to bind his hands and feet. As a final gesture, she balled up one of the strips and stuffed it into the sergeant’s mouth.
On the level above them, Carl had dealt with the need for silence by placing one large hand over the sentry’s mouth and twisting his neck until it snapped. He lowered the body to the ground and ran over to listen at the tower door. The sound of two voices came faintly through the woodwork as he unstrapped the battle axe from his back. He eased the door open and stepped inside, closing it quietly behind him. Two men were stood at the front of the room looking out over the caravanserai.
“Get back out there. You’re not due to be relieved for another half hour yet.”
One of the men half turned and then grabbed the other man’s arm as he saw Carl standing there with the axe in his hand.
“Now then lads. Let’s not have any unpleasantness, shall we?” Carl said.
The two men looked at each other and then jumped in opposite directions, both going for their swords. The one going left had less room to move and Carl cut him down with a slash from shoulder to groin before spinning round to block the other man’s sword a hand’s breadth from his face. The second man was an accomplished swordsman and he and Carl were evenly matched with neither able to gain a decisive advantage.
Carl saw a glitter in the man’s eyes and sensed rather than heard a movement behind him. He dropped to his right and rolled away, coming back to his feet as a sword slashed through the space he had occupied a second before. He felt a stab of pain as the sword caught the top of his left shoulder. There had been a third man, asleep on a cot at the back of the room.
He was on the defensive now with two swords jabbing at him and forcing him back towards the window overlooking the caravanserai. Both his attackers were still wary of the great sweeps of his battle axe but he could sense them growing in confidence as he tired. Neither of them noticed the door opening behind them as Seb entered and immediately thrust his sword through the kidneys of the nearest guard. The man collapsed with a shriek of agony and Carl took advantage of the distraction to bury his axe in the chest of the third man.
“Good timing,” Carl grunted, holding a hand to his injured shoulder.
“Glad to be of help. You said you wanted someone to watch your back.”
“Thanks,” he nodded. “I knew you’d do all right.”
The door from the gallery crashed open and Kemon and Lem came running in.
“Everything alright here?”
“It is now. What about the tocsin?” Carl replied.
Kemon held up a leather strap with a metal clapper attached to the bottom. “It’s hard to say anything without a tongue. Casualties?”
“Carl’s got a cut on the shoulder which needs some attention,” Seb replied.
“It’s only a scratch,” Carl growled. “We’ve got three dead in here and one more outside.”
“Same on the other side,” Kemon said. “This wasn’t how we planned it but we seem to have captured the gates. Let’s hope we can hold them until Lord David gets here. I’ll set up the signal lantern. Carl, get down below and let Rachel bind that shoulder. You two get the bodies out of sight and keep watch for any patrols returning along the walls.”
The reaction to the signal lantern was surprisingly rapid. Horsemen appeared at the outer gates of the caravanserai and after what appeared to be a short discussion, two of them trotted up towards the town gates. Kemon ran down the stairs to open the postern gate and step outside. He flashed the signal lantern once and the two horsemen stopped and immediately issued a challenge. Kemon gave the agreed response and the horsemen nudged their horses forward.
“Kemon, you old devil. What’s going on?” Feynor demanded.
“We’ve secured the gates, Cap’n. But there’s only the four of us and Miss Rachel so a few more men might come in handy.”
David gave a chuckle. “Feynor, go get your men up here now. And send a rider back to Jorgen. Tell him to get here at the double. Silent approach is no longer necessary.
“Kemon, when we have more time, you and I are going to have long chat about what you’ve done here tonight. But for now, let’s get those gates open.”
He dismounted and helped Kemon with the heavy bar. They swung the gates back just as the first horsemen arrived at a gallop.
“Where’s Rachel?” Jeren demanded, throwing himself off his horse.
“In the guardroom,” a voice said.
David looked up startled as he caught a faint echo of the thought but not the substance of it. A troop of horsemen clattered past him then and with all the movement around him, he could not pin down the source of the thought. He concentrated on listening with his mind but there was nothing more. Whoever the Ystrad heir was, his shielding was extremely tight.
Jeren ran into the guardroom to find an enemy soldier in his undershirt and breeches, tied to a chair in the corner and Rachel calmly binding up a gash in Carl’s shoulder.
“Rachel, are you alright?”
“I’m fine, Jerry, I mean, my lord,” Rachel replied. “I’m fine… honestly.”
“I was so worried about you.”
“I’m fine too. Thank you for asking,” Carl said with a grin. “Thanks for that, miss. I’ll leave you two alone. Well, apart from the sergeant in the corner.”
He went out through the door, chuckling to himself, just as Seb walked in with David right on his heels.
“Well done you two. I’ll get the full story from Kemon later on but you did well today.
“Prince Jeren, I’m putting you in charge of the gate. Doubt if I could get you to go anywhere else anyway. When Jorgen gets here, have him send his men out along the wall in both directions. Secure the remaining guardposts and intercept any patrols they come across.”
“Yes, my lord. Where will you be?”
“I’m going up to the top of the town with Feynor. I want to secure this Yanus character and any men he has with him, before they can cause trouble.”
Kemon went with them back to the main square and led the way into the inn. Grimes was standing behind the bar polishing some glasses and looking very pleased with himself. He followed the landlord’s glance down to the end of the room where six guardsmen were sprawled over benches, tables and in one case under the table, all snoring their heads off.
“It appears mine host has been overly generous with his measures tonight,” he remarked.
“What do you mean, overly generous,” Grimes replied. “They’re going to pay for every drink when they wake up.”
Kemon laughed. “Milord, can I introduce ex-captain Grimes, formerly of Duke Theron’s army. Grimes, this is Lord David Held, commander of the Lyenar force.”
The two men shook hands. “What can you tell me about Yanus’ residence?” David asked. “How many entrances and exits?”
“There’s a servants entrance down the passageway to the left which the guards use as well. The front door is on the square as you can see and I know there is an entrance directly connecting the house and the church. Underneath the house there is a maze of cellars, some of which are used as dungeons. There is rumoured to be at least one emergency exit from the cellars but where it comes out, I have no idea.”
David turned to Feynor. “Four men in the church, four men down the side passage. The rest through the front door with us.”
He looked back at Grimes. “How many guards can we expect inside?”
“Two that I know about plus the captain. The rest of the house guards are in here asleep and the others are on the walls looking for you lot.”
They ran across the square and David tried the front door. It was unlocked and opened into a wide hallway with twin staircases curving up to the first floor. There were doors to left and right and passageways behind the stairs presumably leading to the servants’ quarters. They checked the rooms on either
side of the hall but they were both empty.
Leaving a couple of men in the servants’ passage, David led the way up one staircase while Feynor took the other. At the top there was a landing that overlooked the hall on three sides. A number of doors opened off the gallery but it was the set of double doors directly opposite the head of the stairs that they went to first. Inside was a large dining room with three occupants who half rose as the doors opened but quickly sank back into their chairs as David’s men spread out around the walls of the room.
One of the men was a soldier in an officer’s uniform while the other two were short and tubby and could easily have been mistaken for twins. Yanus was still wearing his faded velvet suit while Yuris, his half-brother, was dressed in a priest’s robes. Both men had an excessive amount of gold on display around their necks and on their fingers.
“I don’t know who you are,” Yanus spat, “but you’re going to regret this. Kraxis is my cousin and he will hear of this.”
“Yes he will,” David agreed. “I’m sure he’ll find out for himself eventually but I’m not prepared to wait that long. So one of you two is going to have to go to Marmoros and tell cousin Kraxis all about it.”
Chapter 23
There was a buzzing sound inside his head that would not go away, however much he tried to ignore it. With a silent groan he allowed his mind to drift up through the levels of consciousness until he recognised that someone was calling his name.
“Lord David, Lord David. Ah, you’re awake.”
“Good morning, Suzanne. If it is indeed morning wherever you are.”
“Not really. It’s the middle of the first dog watch on board ship here but there have been some developments which Mikael and I both felt you should know about urgently. Please look through my eyes.”
David expanded the mental link and found himself looking at the bridge of a small warship. Directly in front of him was the familiar face of a naval officer in the uniform of a lieutenant commander.
“Say hi to Mikael for me.”
He saw Mikael smile briefly before the field of view swung as Suzanne turned her head to look at the main display screen. In the centre of the screen was a small, sleek intruder class ship of the type favoured by smugglers. It was showing considerable blast damage in the area of its main propulsion units.