“Captain Stenna!” the Prince demanded, “I have an issue that I must raise with you immediately.”
“Are you a knight in training or a Prince currently?” Alyda asked.
He frowned, halted in his tracks clearly confused by her comment. “What?”
“Well, Highness, a knight wouldn’t burst into their Captain’s quarters in such a dishevelled state unless they had been ordered. Neither would they rudely demand the attention of their commanding officer.” The Prince looked utterly bewildered. If she wasn’t so mindful of her duty she would have laughed her arse off. “If you’re a prince, then of course, you can do as you please. You can barge in, shout—dance on my desk if you so desire. Only, if it please you, decide which you are before we continue as it’s very confusing for a simple soldier to fathom.”
“How dare you!” Talin spluttered.
“Ah, you are the Prince then.” Alyda stood up and saluted. “Forgive my lack of manners, Highness; I mistook you for a knight.”
The Prince stabbed an accusing finger at Alyda. “You…I…urgh.” Cursing incoherently, he stormed from the office.
Nevenna laughed. “That showed him, or you’re getting posted to the borders.”
Alyda grinned. “You mean we’re getting posted to the borders Lieutenant—I couldn’t possibly leave the Company behind.”
Nevenna stopped laughing.
When Nevenna had gone, Alyda set about her paperwork in earnest. The Prince would either come back or leave Trelanlith in a sulk. Either way, she might as well get on with some work while she waited to find out which it would be. She told herself she wouldn’t mind if he left—she hadn’t wanted him there in the first place. The trouble was she couldn’t entirely convince herself that was true.
There was a knock at the door. Prince Talin entered. He’d bathed, his hair was neatly braided in a single plait, and he’d put on a pristine scarlet surcoat. He saluted and waited for her to address him.
“Yes, Highness?” she said at last.
“Captain Stenna; I would like to apologise for my conduct.”
“Apology accepted. Was there anything else?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact there is. Lieutenant Vysten informed me that I cannot take part in the tourney next week. I’d like to know why.”
“Because I ordered it.”
“Yes, I got that part. I’d like to know why you ordered it.”
“Under normal circumstances, I’d say it was none of your business, but then not every knight is the heir to the throne. You’ve been forbidden because it’s too dangerous. Lieutenant Lorhine says you have skill with lance and sword, but the practice yards are very different to an open tourney. Nobody here wants to kill or maim you. The same cannot be said for some of the knights who’ll be attending. Don’t mistake me; most are honourable warriors, but they’re coming here to win fame and glory. Unseating a Prince would be a bragging right, and we cannot risk the life of the future King. I’m sure you understand.” From the sour expression on his face it was evident that he didn’t.
“This is ridiculous, I’ve fought before—completely naked on one occasion. I assure you; there is no adversary more furious than a cuckolded lover.” He grinned. “I’m sure I can look after myself fully armed and armoured. Please, Captain. I don’t want to write to my father and ask his permission, but I will. This is the only time in my life that I’ve ever wanted to participate in a bloody tourney; you have no right, or reason to deny me.”
Alyda took the letter bearing the King’s seal from the drawer and slid it across the table. His face darkened as he read it. She hadn’t wanted to pass responsibility to the King; her shoulders were broad, but it was clear that he wasn’t going to accept her word and leave it there. She understood entirely, and would have been just as determined in his position.
“It seems I owe you another apology, Captain Stenna. I thought the order was yours. I should have known my parents wouldn’t let me slip the leash entirely.” The Prince tossed the letter onto the table.
“Tell me, Captain, why was I only informed this morning? The date of the letter is over three weeks ago.”
“Telling you now means you’re only going to be miserable for one week, instead of four.”
He smiled. “You care if I’m miserable?”
Damn. He’d seen something she didn’t even want to admit to herself.
“I care about the morale of all my knights,” she said, quickly brushing the comment aside. She looked down at the papers to hide the flush she felt rising in her cheeks. The door burst open. It was Jamie, he’d been running.
“Captain,” he spluttered. “Lieutenant Lorhine and Lieutenant Tiran are fighting.”
The Great Hall was in uproar, tables and benches had been overturned and a knot of knights and squires were gathered in the centre of the room, enthusiastically shouting encouragement and curses. When they saw Alyda and the Prince, the noise died down and the crowd flowed apart to reveal Lorhine and Tiran. Lorhine had Tiran in a headlock and was punching him in the face. As he drew back his fist to hit him again, he glanced up, and froze.
“Let him go,” said Alyda, her voice barely louder than a whisper. Lorhine immediately released Tiran. The knight dropped to his knees, gasping for breath.
“Both of you; my office, one hour. If you so much as look at each other before then, I’ll kick you out of the Arth myself.” Without waiting for either to reply she stalked from the hall, icy silence trailing in her wake.
“Would you rather be hung or dishonourably discharged?” Polyn asked Jamie.
He glared at the page. Normally he’d throw something at her, and follow it up with a lecture about not asking stupid questions, but he wasn’t going to berate her in front of Hedden and his cronies.
“Hanged, without a doubt,” he muttered and continued to change out of his muck and into something more presentable for the hearing.
“Hmm, I don’t know,” the page mused. “I saw someone being hung once. It took forever. He went purple and pissed himself…it was horrible. I think I’d take the discharge.”
Jamie snorted. “You might as well be dead with a dishonourable discharge.”
Pol folded her arms defiantly. “I still don’t want to hang.”
“Do you want to shut up? Your constant prattle is giving me a headache,” said Hedden. His friends sniggered.
Jamie knew he should ignore him, but Hedden was like a splinter under his fingernail; inconsequential, but really annoying. “Only the Commander or the King can dishonourably discharge a knight, and only the King or a juried court can order a hanging. This isn’t anywhere near that serious.” Jamie tugged on his best boots and stamped his feet until they were snugly wedged into the stiff leather.
“I should be allowed to go with you. I’m your junior, and the Captain’s page.” Polyn flopped back on her bunk. Her freckled face screwed up.
Before Jamie could answer, Rudi Lauwen looked up from the sock he was darning.
He jabbing the needle in Pol’s direction. “I’m Lieutenant Vysten’s squire. If anyone else should be allowed in, it’s me.”
“Or me,” Hedden chipped in.
“Why in the Void would you be allowed in, Hedden? Lacgarde won’t be there.” Jamie realised he shouldn’t have taken the bait a second after he had.
“Because I’m wonderful, Turdlowe. Why else?” Hedden basked in his friends’ laughter.
Jamie was seething, but forced a tight smile. “Y’know, Hedden we really are lucky to have you in the First. Did your village have to wait long after you left?”
Hedden narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Wait for what?”
“Another idiot.” Jamie threw his muddy clothes at Polyn and left before Hedden talked himself into a beating.
Talin crept into the Captain’s office and commandeered a seat by the door where he would be out of the way. The last thing he wanted after this morning was to draw attention to himself. The room was hot and crowded with knights waiting for the
hearing to begin. Talin knew it was terribly selfish, but he was privately grateful to the brawling officers. The fight had completely overshadowed his embarrassing little outburst.
Alyda was sitting at her desk, huddled in quiet conversation with Lieutenant Vysten. Her unsheathed sword lay before her, a cold, gleaming symbol of the military court’s authority. When her squire came in, Talin pulled him down onto the bench beside him.
“Just the man I wanted to see.”
“Me, Highness? I’m honoured.”
“Aye, I thought if anyone knows what’s going on it will be you, Master Turlowe.”
“You flatter me, Highness.”
The squire neither looked nor sounded in the slightest bit flattered, but he’d damn well stay and answer Talin’s questions whether he liked it or not.
“Captain Stenna looks to be in a grim mood. Is a scrap all that serious?”
“Serious enough; particularly as it’s between officers. The Captain says discipline is our foundation.”
“That sounds like Trease. She reminds me of him—especially when she does that thing where she shouts without raising her voice.”
Jamie gave Talin a disdainful look. “She’s a Captain of the Royal Guards; she commands respect.”
Like his older brothers, young Turlowe had inherited the irritating ability to sound smugly superior to everyone they spoke to, including a future king. It reminded Talin of his youth spent with the other noble children of the court. He and Bear would mercilessly tease the older, and equally as annoying, Turlowe brothers when they forgot their places. It was so easy to get a rise out of them; every single member of the family had a temper as hot as Naran pepper.
“Although, unlike Trease, she’s lovely, even when she’s angry. Don’t you agree, Jamie?” Talin may have been teasing, but he meant it and was glad of the chance to voice his feelings, even though they were disguised as a jest.
“I really wouldn’t know, Highness,” Jamie mumbled.
There it was: the old, Turlowe Flush. The lad went from pasty to beetroot in seconds. Ah, but teasing a Turlowe was like fishing in a barrel, and not half as much fun without Bear there to share the joke. Captain Stenna and Lieutenant Vysten finished their conversation and the hearing was brought to order.
“So who do you think came off worst?” Talin asked Jamie.
Jamie shrugged. “Hard to say, Highness.”
It was obvious to a blind man that Lorhine had beaten the damnation out of Tiran. The Tamalak knight hadn’t escaped entirely unscathed; he had a few cuts and bruises, but Tiran was a mess. Talin wondered if his nose had been straight before the fight, because it certainly wasn’t now. The disgraced knights saluted the Captain. She returned it, but the look on her face was as cold as the Ice Halls of Tamalan.
She tipped a nod to the Paymaster. He dipped his quill and prepared to write.
“Lieutenant Tiran, why were you and Lieutenant Lorhine brawling?” she asked.
Tiran cast a withering sideways glance at Lorhine. “Captain, Lieutenant Lorhine has insulted me many times before today. This assault was the culmination of months of persecution.”
Lorhine drew a breath. Talin hoped the big knight wasn’t about to talk himself into even more trouble, but Alyda shot him a warning look and he held his tongue.
“If you feel you’ve been persecuted, why haven’t you seen fit to tell your commanding officer about it?” She jabbed a thumb at herself. “That’s me, in case you’ve forgotten.”
Tiran gulped. “I felt it was my duty as an officer to deal with the situation myself…without involving you, Captain.”
“That’s not your decision to make and you know it. Any dispute between officers under my command is my concern, and should be brought to my attention. Now, why do you feel you have been persecuted, Lieutenant Tiran?”
Talin whispered to Jamie. “Did you know about this?”
“Me? No, Highness. I’m the Captain’s squire; sensitive conversations tend to stop when I enter a room. I heard rumours, but nothing specific, and I don’t poke my nose into the senior knights’ business. It’s not how we do things.”
“No. Apparently you beat the shit out of each other, which is seldom the best way to resolve a dispute, if you ask me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of asking you anything.”
Before Talin could rebuke him, the squire added;
“It would be rude to question a prince.”
Tiran cleared his throat. “Lieutenant Lorhine has consistently thwarted my attempts to encourage the proper and respectful worship of Sestrian within the Company. He has threatened me in the past, and today he attacked me in front of half the Company.”
Alyda turned to Lorhine. He looked like he was going to explode. “Let’s hear it, Lorhine.”
“Captain, this…this, zealot,” he spat the word like it was poison, “has been causing trouble from the moment he was promoted. I’ve had to put up with his bullshit for a year now. Before he got made up he was infuriating, since then he’s behaved like a bloody tyrant.”
Lieutenant Vysten scribbled a note and passed it to Alyda. She read it before continuing to question Lorhine. “I’ll ask you the same thing I asked Tiran: why didn’t you come to me? Or don’t you trust my judgement either?”
“I trust your judgement implicitly, Captain. I thought I’d give him a chance to see his foolishness for what it was and put an end to it himself. I thought it was the best way to deal with the situation for the good of all. I see now that I was wrong.”
“How astute. A shame your insight’s come a bit late in the day. Now, what happened?”
“He’s been trying to force his lance to worship Sestrian—only Sestrian. He punishes those who don’t follow his devotions and favours those who do. It goes against everything we stand for—”
Tiran opened his mouth in a wide ‘O’ of outrage and rounded on Lorhine. “All Antians should be proud and grateful to kneel before the blessed Hawk of Dawn, He who is the Lord of all!” Tiran thundered. “You wouldn’t understand, Captain, but it is the solemn duty of all pure Antians to—”
Alyda raised her hand and cut him off. “Pray tell, Lieutenant Tiran; what wouldn’t I understand? And what in the Void is a ‘pure’ Antian?”
“Well, Captain…you’re half Tamalak and half Hadami, I don’t expect you to understand the strength of feeling we pure-blood Antian’s have for Father Sestrian. Although, I’m sure you agree; a strong faith is vital if we are to have a strong kingdom.”
Alyda gave Tiran a look that Talin hoped she’d never bestow on him. “Lieutenant Tiran, after what you’ve said and done, I can’t imagine I’d agree with you that shit is brown without checking first.”
“Be assured, Highness, Tiran is in a minority,” Jamie whispered.
“Are you sure, Jamie? You’re the Captain’s squire, remember? Who’d tell you if he wasn’t?” he immediately regretted his words. He was angry at Tiran, not Turlowe. Bear was right; he could be such an ass at times.
Jamie looked like he wanted to punch him. “With all due respect, Highness; I’d know.”
Before Talin could offer one of his rare apologies, Alyda slammed her fist against the table. The unexpected display of temper stilled the room.
“What you have failed to realise is that I promoted you in spite of your ‘strong faith’, not because of it.” Although she was clearly furious she still didn’t raise her voice. “I had hoped your unbending devotion would soften when you gained more responsibility. Instead, you’ve used your promotion to pursue your stringent beliefs even more aggressively.” She sounded disappointed. “This shows a woeful lack of judgement, and a lack of respect for the Company and our values. You talk of strength, but what you’ve done undermines, not only the morale of the Company, but the respect due to King Daris, who you have sworn an oath to serve. What gods a person chooses to worship is a matter for their own conscience; that is the King’s law.”
“It is the business of all devotees of the Hawk to
ensure his faith flourishes,” Tiran declared, as though he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. “Sestrian is the first amongst gods and none shall deny Him! Not even a king.”
“This fool is close to treason,” Talin hissed.
“I’d like to think he doesn’t realise what he’s saying, but in truth, I don’t think he cares,” said Jamie.
Talin nodded. “He sounds brim full of conviction, and utterly bereft of doubt. That’s never a good thing.”
Alyda shook her head and turned her attention back to Lorhine. “What caused the fight, Lorhine?”
“A disagreement between fellow officers, Captain Stenna.”
Talin noticed her right hand ball into a fist, but this time she didn’t slam it into the table. “I’ll ask you once more, Lieutenant. If you still feel unable to tell me, I will have no option but to discharge you from the Company.”
Lorhine winced, but the threat proved enough of an incentive to loosen his tongue. “I told him never to beat the squires in his lance again. A lad ended up in the infirmary this morning.” He paused; perhaps in the hope that he’d said enough. The look on the Captain’s face said it wasn’t. He took a deep breath. “I told him if he did it again I’d have no choice but to inform you.”
“Go on, Lieutenant,” Alyda insisted.
Lorhine swallowed hard. “He said, ‘Go and run to the half breed and…” He shrugged. The room held its breath.
“And what? Gods, this is like pulling teeth. What else did he say, Lieutenant?”
“Nothing, Captain…That’s when I hit him.”
Alyda raised an eyebrow and looked at Tiran. “Lieutenant Tiran; have you been beating my squires?”
“They…they need disciplining from time to time,” he murmured, unable to meet her gaze.
Lorhine rounded on him. The big knight was shaking with rage. Talin thought he might hit Tiran, but he didn’t. As much as Tiran deserved a punch for what he’d said, it was good to see Lorhine finally exhibiting some of the vaunted, ‘Guards discipline’ he’d heard so much about.
The Red Knight Page 12