Moonblood

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Moonblood Page 28

by Martin Ash


  ‘I’ve told you. I have made no interpretation of the words.’ Her voice had grown a little shrill.

  ‘I asked you recently why you chose that name for you daughter. It is a most unusual name, after all. Was it chosen in order to set events in motion, to bring about the realization of the prophecy?’

  ‘Events were already in motion, Master Dinbig. Ravenscrag was in decline; Flarefist was the father-to-be. We – and our advisiors – saw a possible correspondence.’

  ‘Moonblood was your firstborn, wasn’t she? After her you lost four children, one after the other, at birth. That must have been almost too painful for you to bear. Yet perhaps you, and Flarefist, took some heart, some hope, even in your grief, for did not the Ravenscrag prophecy state that four must perish since the blood of the moon was spilled?’

  Lady Sheerquine made no comment. One white hand had gone to her chest, where it fiddled with the hem of her robe.

  ‘As I understand it, three of your children died at childbirth, Lady Sheerquine. But tell me about the fourth, little Misha, the baby girl who survived.

  Lady Sheerquine gave a queer throttled sound. She moved abruptly away, as if propelled. ‘What do you mean? What is there to tell? Misha lived… for a few days. But she wasn’t strong. Her nurse found her dead in her crib. Why do you torture me with such memories?’

  ‘I appreciate that it must be painful for you to recall. But you see, last night night I was beset by a strange dream. In it, among other things, I came upon you. You seemed to be in a trance, and were bearing a pillow to some unknown destination. Then, when I awoke, I met you in the corridor. You were dressed precisely as you had been in my dream. You held a pillow, and you seemed to be in a trance. Certainly, you were unaware of me. I followed as, almost against your will, you proceeded to the nursery, where you paused over the ruined crib, holding the pillow as if to smother a child!’

  ‘No!’ She wheeled upon me, the skin of her face stretched tight across her skull.

  ‘I saw you, Lady Sheerquine. I was there.’

  She was trembling. She reached out suddenly with one hand and stumbled forward, grasping the mantel-shelf for support.

  ‘Was that what happened, Lady Sheerquine? The first three died of natural causes, but the little girl, Misha, was a robust and healthy child. She showed every sign of living to enjoy a long and happy life. But if the fourth child lived, then the prophecy would not come true. Ravenscrag’s decline would not continue, and its saviour would not come – at least not yet. So Misha, too, had to die. And is that why I, despite everything, had to be discouraged from discovering the truth? And when I got too close, did you decide to have me murdered, knowing that your complicity would never be suspected?’

  Sheerquine lowered her head, breathing hard, still clutching the shelf. ‘You have an extraordinary imagination, Master Dinbig. But no one would believe you.’

  ‘On the contrary, I think Moonblood would believe me. As would Lord Ulen Condark. Others would at least entertain deep suspicions.’

  Her look now was wild. ‘Will you tell them?’

  I shrugged. ‘It’s true that I lack firm evidence. And I’ve no desire to establish a witch-hunt – we’ve already seen the effects that can have. But one thing surprises me: were you truly so anxious to have the prophecy come true that you were prepared to risk so much, even knowing that in doing so you might be activating the bane?’

  Her lip curled. ‘I knew nothing of the bane at that time. It was kept secret, so that it might not cause concern or engender an insidious influence. Only after Misha’s death did Sardus bring it forth and show it to me.’

  ‘It must have come as quite a shock.’

  Lady Sheerquine glowered at me. I recited, in a quiet voice, the words of the bane: My spawn will be about you and among you forevermore, but you will not know them, nor will they know themselves. Clearly, it was not only rats and ravens that were referred to.’

  Her look hardened with intense animosity, then her spirit seemed to flee her. Her head tipped forward. I continued. ‘You would have died had I not brought Moonblood back. All of you – and she could have been transformed, like Redlock, into something monstrous and iniquitous. Evil born out of the evil you committed in order to fulfil your own ambitions.’

  ‘It was for Ravenscrag!’ she began, but then her shoulders shuddered. Something small and silvery dropped to the floor by her feet. I looked and saw a patch of glistening wet as she lifted a hand to her eyes.

  ‘Recall Or-Hurun of Darch,’ I said quietly, ‘who says everything without uttering a word. You described him earlier as a charlatan or a fool, yet many would say he spoke more truth through silence than most people speak with a thousand words. And such is the nature of secrets held in the dark. They may never be uttered, yet by one means or another they have the power to make themselves known.’

  She half-glanced my way, but made no comment. I went on, ‘As I’ve said, I feel there’s nothing to be gained by making your crimes public. There’s probably no punishment greater than that which you’ve already inflicted upon yourself, and no doubt will do throughout your remaining days. But I do require your assurance on one or two points.’

  ‘What are they?’

  ‘First, that you immediately set free your prisoners, or ‘guests’, as you term them. Second, that on behalf of your husband, you relinquish all power in favour of your son, Redlock, and permit a deputy to be installed to govern in his stead until he’s of an age.’

  ‘Impossible! That will allow Condark to gain Ravenscrag!’

  ‘If Lord Condark wants Ravenscrag he, or his brothers and sons, could take it now by force. But I believe Lord Condark may be willing to acknowledge Redlock’s birthright. Flarefist is dying and someone must stand in his place. It would be preferable if that person was somebody acceptable both to Ravenscrag and House Condark, that you might work towards a rapprochement between both houses. It will require careful negotiation of terms. I’d a suggest a meeting be called forthwith.’

  She nodded, a broken woman, all the colossal reserve of her person shattered in mere instants. She was a pathetic sight, but I felt little sympathy.

  ‘Next, the bodies of Irnbold and Elmag must be cut down immediately and given a proper burial. Captain Monsard’s orders in regard to me, whatever they may be, must be rescinded. Is that understood?’

  She nodded again, weakly.

  ‘Now I shall leave you. I’ll return later to discuss my proposals with you and Lord Condark.’

  I turned and limped across the hall, then hesitated. ‘One other thing. I recall that mention was made by yourself and Lord Flarefist of concessions and rewards for my services.’

  ‘We are not wealthy, Master Dinbig, but I will see to it that you do not leave Ravenscrag… without proper payment.’

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  I went straight to the loft where Bris and Cloverron were barracked.

  ‘Restrictions have been lifted. You’re free to move as you will. Get your weapons and follow me. Remain several paces behind so that it looks as though I’m unaccompanied, but do not lose sight of me for an instant.’

  I left the castle and made my way down through the darkened streets to the home of Cametta and Darean Monsard.

  ~

  From a doorway in a deserted side-street two figures stepped out in front of me. They had chosen their place well. I was easily visible beneath a lantern hung outside an inn. They stood beyond the light, their faces in shadow.

  They spoke no words. I heard a light scuff behind me. Instinctively, I dropped to the ground, drawing a dagger and spinning. The pain of it made me gasp. A third man was upon me, but my motion threw him for an instant. I stabbed hard into his thigh, and rolled away as he yelled out in pain. I caught a glimpse of a third figure coming at me, the lamplight glinting on his dagger blade.

  Then there were shouts, and the clash of blades as Bris and Cloverron threw themselves into the affray. Two of my assailants, caught unawares, were cut down
instantly. A third put up a bold fight, then tried to flee and was taken in the back by Cloverron’s sword. The fourth, who I’d wounded, tried to limp away unseen. Bris grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and would have killed him but I called out, ‘I want him alive, Bris!’

  Bris took away the man’s dagger and sword. I climbed to my feet and put my knife to his throat.

  ‘Who sent you?’

  For a moment he was defiant. I pressed the blade more firmly against his flesh. ‘You have a choice. Live, or die now. Who sent you? Was it Monsard, or Sheerquine.’

  The man hesitated a moment longer, then hissed, ‘Lady Sheerquine.’

  ‘As I thought.’ I lowered the blade. ‘Go to her now, and tell her precisely what has happened here. Tell her this: I am returning to the castle in due course.’

  He looked at me, blinking. ‘Is that all?’

  ‘It’s more than enough. With the knowledge I hold, Sheerquine will be in no doubt of my meaning. Now, go!’

  He made off, limping, into the dark. I sent Cloverron on into the town with specific orders, and continued on my way accompanied by Bris. Outside Cametta’s house Bris concealed himself in nearby shrubbery while I knocked on the front door.

  After a brief wait a window opened upstairs and a servant nervously poked his head out. I requested an urgent audience with Cametta.

  ‘Madame Cametta is seeing no one, sir.’

  ‘I must see her. It’s most important.’

  ‘Her orders were definite. She will see no one. Besides, it is the middle of the night.’

  ‘I’m aware of that, but – ‘

  The man retracted his head. I cursed, but second later he was back at the window. ‘A moment, sir.’

  Some seconds later the front door was opened by the same servant. I noted the sword that hung at his belt, though he carried it awkwardly and with little conviction.

  ‘Have you been under assault here?’ I asked, entering.

  ‘No, sir. But strange and terrible things have been happening at the castle. We’ve all armed ourselves, just in case.’ He closed the door hurriedly behind me. ‘Madam Cametta will see you in the reception room.’

  As I crossed the entrance hall I saw Cametta descending by the stairs. I stopped short in shock. Her face was swollen, a mass of cuts and livid contusions. One arm was in a sling and she leaned heavily on a stick.

  ‘Cametta!’

  She said nothing, but hobbled with difficulty down the stairs and straight by me, into the reception room. I followed, and when we were alone said, ‘Did your husband do this?’

  She nodded.

  So Sheerquine had told Darean Monsard about Cametta and me. ‘Is he here now?’

  ‘No. He hasn’t been back tonight.’ She spoke with difficulty, barely able to move her swollen jaw and smashed, bloodied lips.

  I felt my anger rising. I moved towards her, wanting to take her in my arms, but she flinched and jerked back. ‘Don’t touch me!’

  The venom in her tone shocked me. ‘I’m sorry. You must be in terrible pain.’

  She glared at me for a moment through eyes barely visible between brutally swollen, purple and blue lids. ‘Pain? What would you know about pain?’

  ‘My love – ‘

  ‘Don’t!’ It emerged as a tortured shout. She winced, obviously jarred by the effort. She lowered her tone, her breath seething between broken teeth. ‘Do not insult me.’

  ‘Insult? Cametta, I don’t understand. What is the matter? Have I offended you?’

  ‘Offended?’ She hobbled away to the side of the room. ‘Look at me, Dinbig. Take a good look at me now. Do you find me beautiful still, all bruised and hurt and broken? Is that thing between your thighs still aroused by the sight of me? Because that’s all it ever was, isn’t it? I loved you, but you – you knew nothing more than the need to satisfy your lust.’

  ‘Cametta, why do you say this? It isn’t true. My feelings for you haven’t changed.’

  ‘Bastard!’

  ‘There is some mistake, Cametta.’

  ‘Stop your squirmings, Dinbig. Darean told me.’

  ‘Told you what?’

  ‘That you tried to leave Ravenscrag two mornings ago. You tried to run away, leaving us, leaving me.’ She fought back tears, too proud to let me see her break down. ‘Deny it. I dare you!’

  I said nothing. Her voice rose. ‘You can’t deny it. You see, I didn’t believe him. I thought he lied to discredit you. So I sent a servant to make enquiries.’

  ‘Cametta, I wasn’t leaving. I wanted to get help. I felt I was unable to handle what was happening here alone.’

  ‘I don’t believe you! You were running, like a coward. You were leaving me, without a word! Even knowing what might happen here, you abandoned me.’

  ‘I didn’t believe you to be in any way endangered,’ I said, but I could make no further effort to exonerate myself. ‘Cametta, what about Darean? I’m concerned for you.’

  She scoffed. ‘Save your concern.’

  ‘He attempted to murder me, in the woods.’

  ‘He told me you were dead.’

  ‘Where is he now?’

  ‘At the castle, I imagine. He will not murder me, if that’s what you are ‘concerned’ about. No, he has said that he will throw me out into the street in shame and disgrace, penniless and without friends, and in such a condition that no man will ever look favourably upon me again.’

  ‘I won’t allow that to happen.’

  ‘You? What can you do?’

  ‘I can prevent him.’

  ‘I don’t want your help. I don’t want anything from you. I despise you, Dinbig, for what you’ve done. Now leave me – and don’t come back. I never want to see you again.’

  ‘Cametta, let me explain. I – ‘

  ‘Get out!’ Furiously, she grabbed a metal figurine from a shelf beside her and hurled it at me. I was caught unawares, and too stiff to move quickly. The ornament struck me painfully on the nose. I reeled back in blinding pain, clutching my nose as blood began to pour down my face.

  ‘Get out! Get out!’

  Two servants appeared at the door, nervously clutching weapon hilts. There was nothing to be gained by further remonstration. I turned and left.

  Outside, as Bris came from hiding to join me, I stood with my head back, staunching the flow of nasal blood with a handkerchief. Presently we were able to make steps back towards the castle.

  We’d gone barely more than twenty paces when the sound of men on the march broke the night’s silence. Out of the dark a squad of six guards loomed, led by Darean Monsard. He halted before me. As his men drew their swords and fanned out around him, he glared at me with burning eyes. ‘Well, Merchant, it’s a pity that you are going to resist arrest. It means I shall have to kill you here, your man as well.’

  He slid his sword from its scabbard and leered.

  ‘I think it won’t be quite so, Captain Monsard,’ I said. Bris beside me tensed, his hand on the hilt of his sword. I spoke out loudly. ‘Captain Monsard, I am hereby arresting you for the murder of Master Hectal, half-brother of your Mistress, Lady Sheerquine; for the attempted murder of myself, as well as the unlawful execution of Irnbold and Elmag; for complicity to prevent the safe return of Lady Moonblood and her infant brother, Redlock; for the brutish assault of your wife, and other crimes yet to be stipulated.’

  Monsard laughed and shook his head. ‘You’re a bigger fool than I took you for.’

  ‘I think you will quickly learn otherwise.’

  ‘You do? How is that? I mean, look, we are seven and you are two. Even I, who in my schooling, I quite readily admit, never did excel when it came to working with numbers… even I can see that you are at a most self-evident disadvantage.’

  ‘Well, that may be so as you currently perceive it,’ I replied. ‘But I would beseech you to consider for a moment more.’

  ‘You are scum, Merchant! I’ll not squander another second on you.’ He shifted his grip on his sword. ‘Be read
y to die!’

  ‘No!’ I said, sharply enough to cause him to hesitate. ‘You see, Captain, it is you who are at the disadvantage. I’m afraid you have gravely miscalculated.’

  He frowned.

  ‘Listen,’ I said.

  From beyond Monsard and his men came the sound of running feet. Just in time, for I was beginning to fear I might have overstepped myself. Figures appeared out of the gloom. Cloverron could be seen running towards us with the rest of my company.

  ‘Now, you see, we outnumber you by more than two to one,’ I said, barely able to conceal my relief. ‘Captain, may I suggest you order your men to lay down their arms? We really do not want bloodshed.’

  The Ravenscrag guards shifted uneasily as Cloverron and the others surrounded them. Monsard glowered back at me, his teeth bared. A knife appeared suddenly in his free hand, and with a quick, deft movement he flicked it hard at me.

  I was prepared. I dodged to the side and the weapon flew harmlessly past, though the movement hurt. Monsard lunged at me with his sword and I would not have been quick enough to evade him, but Bris stepped in, knocking the blade aside and in the same movement ramming his elbow into Monsard’s face. Monsard staggered back. Cloverron stepped in from behind and struck him hard on the back of the head with the pommel of his dagger. Monsard’s knees buckled and he dropped senseless to the ground. The remaining Ravenscrag guards gave up without a fight.

  We stripped them of their weapons and had them truss Monsard’s wrists with his belt and carry him back with us to the castle.

  ~

  The first grey fingers of dawn showed tentatively in the east as we arrived at the gatehouse. There were soldiers on horseback ranged outside. My heart dropped, but as we drew closer I saw that they were not Ravenscrag’s men. The bore the colours and arms of House Condark.

  The gate was barred. The horsemen waited impatiently outside. Their leader was a portly fellow in breastplate and helm, seated on a white gelding. He eyed us suspiciously as we drew close.

 

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