Traitor's Blade (The Greatcoats)

by de Castell, Sebastien

  ‘Well then, good thing I found you first, isn’t it?’ I said, putting down the goblet.

  The King reached over from his chair and squeezed my shoulder. ‘A very good thing. A miraculous thing. The best of all things,’ he said. ‘The Greatcoats are what’s going to make this country better, Falcio. They’re my dream. They’re my answer. I want them to live.’

  ‘Your answer to what?’

  ‘My answer to the fact that a man can be killed for no better reason than it pleases someone above him. My answer to the weakness that fact creates in a country, in a people. My answer to the fact that Avares and the other nations surrounding us will one day decide to come over the mountains – perhaps because they lack food or wealth, perhaps because they want more, perhaps because their clerics tell them that the Gods demand it – perhaps even for no better reason than that they have nothing better to do. Our nation is weakened by a system that breeds a visceral hatred so deep that most people would as soon see the world burn as stay as it is, but lack the will to try and change it.’

  ‘And that’s your job, is it, being the one at the top of the whole machine?’

  ‘Mine, yes, and yours. And Kest’s and Brasti’s and all the others, too. First we bring justice, then we bring change.’

  ‘Justice is a change,’ I said.

  ‘No, justice is just the start. It’s the thing that will make change possible.’

  I thought about that for a moment. Then I said, ‘You forgot women.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘A woman can be killed for no better reason than it pleases someone above her, too.’

  King Paelis sighed. ‘It always comes back to that, doesn’t it, Falcio? They murdered your wife, and each and every thing you do from that day forth will be because of that, won’t it?’

  ‘Is that so wrong a reason? To fight – to die, if need be?’

  ‘If it’s your reason then it can’t be so very wrong – it’s as good a reason for dying as any. It’s just not a very good reason for living.’

  I didn’t want to answer. I loved the King, but sometimes he asked more than I was prepared to give. ‘It’ll have to do for now,’ I said finally. ‘And if you trust me in anything, trust me that one day a Greatcoat will be in a position where there is no better option than a quick death.’

  The King pushed the tiny package back towards me. ‘Fine. You are my First Cantor and, if you really want a way for Magisters to kill themselves, I’ll talk to the Royal Apothecary myself.’

  I relaxed a bit. ‘Maybe you can ask him to make it smell better, too. Perhaps a strawberry flavour?’

  King Paelis slammed his fist on the table, and despite his small stature books went flying. ‘Don’t!’ he cried.

  I was about to say, ‘Don’t what?’ but the fury on his face told me better.

  He knew it, too. ‘Leave it be now, Falcio. You’ve said your piece and you’re getting your way – but don’t ever think you have persuaded me. Don’t ever think this was your reason winning out over my weakness. You’ve won.’ He coughed and wiped at his mouth. ‘Now leave it be. It’s been a long trip and I need a rest.’

  A few weeks later a guard arrived bearing a wooden box. On top of the box was a note that said, Try not to get them mixed up. Inside the box were a hundred and forty-four small packages, each containing a square. I opened one, careful not to touch it with my bare skin. It smelled like strawberries, and I couldn’t imagine what that meant.

  THE APOTHECARIES

  I had promised myself I would give her the choice, not try to stop her from taking the soft candy. It was a cold, callous calculation born from my own sense of weakness, but if I couldn’t keep her safe, and if capture would mean torture and a slower death, then surely it was her right to make her own decision. It’s the choice I would have made in her position – and the choice I would have made years ago, looking down at the destroyed body of my dead wife, if someone had given it to me. If I’d held in my hand a tiny package, a berry-flavoured sweet that would end my pain instantly, I would have taken it without a thought – and then what? No long journey into and out of madness, no climbing the foetid passageway of Castle Aramor to commit regicide, no discovery of a young, weak, but brilliant King. No Greatcoats. No royal library, no nights poring over ancient texts on swordplay and strategy. No chess with the King or riding into every village and hamlet in the country with Kest and Brasti and the others to bring some small measure of decency and justice to the world. No Greatcoats. No Greatcoats.

  ‘Please.’ The small word shattered the spell.

  I looked over and my hand was on Aline’s wrist. I’d no recollection of putting it there. My grip was tight and I could see it was hurting her, but I couldn’t seem to let go. The look on her face was frightened, desperate, and I could see that she thought that I had lied, that I wouldn’t let her choose her own death. It’s her death, I told myself, not yours, and my fingers released just enough for her to pull her hand away. She stepped back several paces and rubbed her wrist. She looked hurt and confused.

  She stopped backing away and brought the soft candy back towards her mouth.

  ‘Aline!’

  The shout had come from behind me, so I pulled my right-hand rapier from its sheath and crouched low into a forward guard. A man and a woman were running towards us, no weapons in hand, nor at their sides that I could see. The man was heavyset but not so muscled as to be a soldier or blacksmith – so someone who worked for a living, worked with his hands but not in hard labour. His clothes told me he wasn’t destitute, but his rough beard and dark hair made it clear he wasn’t a merchant either. The woman beside him was much the same in clothes and bearing, though slimmer and prettier. I guessed both to be in their middle thirties.

  ‘Aline!’ they called again, and I rose up a little. I kept the point at the man’s gut.

  ‘Don’t hurt her,’ he said, his voice thick with concern.

  ‘Hurt whom?’ I asked.

  ‘Aline, come here,’ he said, keeping his eyes on me and his right arm protectively in front of his wife.

  ‘Radger?’ Aline said from behind me. ‘Laetha? What are you doing here?’

  ‘We’re looking for you, silly girl. We heard what happened and Mattea sent us to find you!’

  ‘Who is Mattea?’ I asked, my sword not moving an inch.

  Aline tried to push past me, but I barred her with my arm.

  ‘Mattea was my nanny,’ she said impatiently. ‘Radger is her son and Laetha is his wife. They’re apothecaries – they’re my friends. Now let me past, Falcio.’

  ‘Put up your arms,’ I told them.

  ‘What foolishness is driving you, man?’ Laetha said. ‘We’re here to help Aline to safety. We thought you were one of the Duke’s men taking her away.’

  ‘All the same, put your arms up and turn around.’

  ‘Falcio, stop this.’

  ‘In a moment. First, I want them to put their arms up and turn around.’

  Radger eyed me carefully. ‘Aline, get ready to run,’ he said urgently. ‘If he attacks us, just run and don’t look back.’

  ‘Hells! You’re all fools!’ Aline said.

  ‘Everyone shut up,’ I ordered. ‘Now, if you’re truly friends, you’ll do as I say. If you’re not, let’s get this over with. I haven’t killed anyone for several hours and I’m getting a cramp.’

  The man looked scared; the woman’s eyes went from Aline to me and looked furious. But they both complied. They raised their arms as I’d ordered, which pulled their clothes tighter against their bodies, as I had intended: this makes it much easier to see if someone is wearing weapons on their person. As they turned, I looked for bulges in their clothes or places where the cloth was tighter than it should be – signs of things concealed – but there were none. I don’t know why people try to pat their opponents down; you’re more than likely to miss something that way, and you’ve made yourself vulnerable by getting in so close, even if you’ve got a partner with
you.

  ‘All right,’ I said, looking around one last time. As I resheathed my sword, Aline shoved me aside and ran to the couple, who hugged her tightly. Radger said something in her ear, but I couldn’t hear what it was.

  ‘Where is Mattea?’ Aline asked. ‘Is she all right?’

  ‘She’s fine,’ Radger said. ‘Out of her wits searching for you, of course, as is the rest of the damned city, it seems.’

  ‘Thank Saint Birgid we found you first,’ Laetha said. She put an arm around Aline’s shoulders. ‘Is this the man – the tatter-cloak – who took you?’

  ‘You probably don’t want to say that again,’ I said calmly.

  ‘Forgive us, stranger,’ Radger said. ‘We don’t know your ways. Do you prefer “Trattari”?’ He was either the best actor in the world or he really was clueless, so I decided to let it go.

  ‘I prefer Falcio,’ I said.

  ‘Falcio, then. I don’t mean to offend you, but why did you take Aline?’

  ‘Her family is murdered,’ I said, ‘and she’s being hunted by the Duke’s less-than-courteous lackeys, not to mention every guardsman and bully boy in Rijou. There was no one else to take her.’

  ‘You could have brought her to us,’ Laetha said angrily. She looked down at Aline. ‘Sweetheart, you could have come to us.’

  ‘I didn’t want to bring more pain to your house,’ Aline said. ‘After Mother had to let Mattea go … We didn’t have money – the Duke took—’

  ‘Silly girl,’ Laetha said, embracing her once more. ‘Do you honestly think Mattea would ever hold that against you? Do you think we would ever turn you away from our door?’

  ‘And how well would you fight off the men trying to capture her?’ I asked. ‘How would you cross blades with the thugs and gangs looking to reap from Shiballe’s generous harvest?’

  ‘How well have you been protecting her?’ Laetha demanded.

  ‘Not especially well,’ I admitted.

  ‘Stranger – Falcio –’ Radger put a hand on my shoulder, as tentatively as if he were touching a dead eel – ‘No man can fight off the entire city. It’s beyond belief that you’ve kept her alive until now. But we can help. We can move her from family to family, quiet as a shadow, and keep her from the Duke’s men until this damnable Blood Week is over. Then … then she can live with us. We’ll care for her, I promise you.’

  ‘We can hide you,’ Laetha said confidently to Aline.

  ‘But Laetha, I don’t want you or the others harmed when they realise you’ve been hiding me,’ Aline said. ‘Or worse—’

  ‘Pish!’ Laetha said comically, like an old grandmother, and I guessed this was something Mattea the nanny might say. ‘They’ll never know. The common folk of Rijou have been hiding bigger things than you for years, sweetheart.’

  I strongly doubted that was true; more likely whatever petty smuggling or black marketeering that went on simply wasn’t very important to the Duke. But Aline, for some reason, was.

  ‘I don’t think it’ll be so easy,’ I said.

  ‘Do you honestly believe she has better odds with you?’ Radger asked gently.

  The answer was no, of course, but I couldn’t bring myself to admit that.

  ‘Falcio,’ Aline said softly, putting her hand on mine, ‘I think … I think this is worth trying. I don’t know what else to do, and I have only one other course available to me.’

  I realised she’d pressed something into my hand. It was the soft candy. ‘All right,’ I said, putting the tiny package back in my pocket. ‘But I’m coming.’

  Radger started to protest, but I put my hand up to stop him. ‘You might still encounter Shiballe’s men between here and your home. Once we’re there and Aline’s settled, I’ll take my leave of you and make my way out of the city.’

  They looked mollified by this, and Radger turned to point the way. ‘It’s half a mile straight down Broadwine Road,’ he said, ‘but we’ll want to take the alleys, to lessen our chances of running into trouble.’

  ‘Lead on,’ I said. A half-mile journey, and then I would be free of this – free to wriggle my way out of this city like a worm and make my way back to the caravan, to Kest and Brasti. And then what? Help assassinate a childish Princess before she could do more harm? Or fight Kest and lose in a hopeless effort to stop him?

  *

  Radger and Laetha’s home looked like just about every other apothecary’s shop I’d ever seen. One wall was made up of dark wooden glass-fronted cabinets filled with scores of tiny pots and jars. Dried herbs and flowers were suspended from hooks all over the place. A long oak countertop served both for handling money and packaging and mixing formulas. In the back, behind the shop, was one large room with two smaller ones adjoining, and a thick oak door leading to what was most likely the cellar. Behind a curtain hanging in one of the two bedrooms was a hidden door.

  ‘If someone comes in through the front of the shop we can sneak her out the back here to the alley,’ Radger said, holding the hanging back.

  ‘They’ll be likely to have someone in the alley,’ I started, but he smiled and pushed open the door. There was a tall wall just to the right of it.

  ‘See that alley wall right there? It looks like a dead end from the street, but actually this segment behind the wall joins up with a notary’s office and Heb the carpenter’s workshop. They could stand all day in that alley waiting for us and not notice that we’d already left.’

  I smiled. It was as good as she could hope for.

  ‘Where’s Mattea?’ Aline said.

  It was clear to me that the old woman had been an important and positive force in the girl’s life, and the family were more like cousins than servants to her. That was good.

  ‘She’s still out looking for you,’ Laetha said. ‘Here, let’s get both of you something to eat. You look as though you haven’t had anything in ages.’

  Laetha motioned for us to take a seat at the large table in the centre of the main room. The wooden chairs were hard, but it felt like sinking into a cloud for me. I was exhausted, but sleep was miles away yet. I had to make sure the girl was safe, then I would take that back alley route and make for the rooftops as fast as possible. I would go through the most crowded parts of the city on my way to the outer wall, and then … Well, then I’d just have to figure out how to haul my exhausted body up a twenty-foot stone surface. Maybe the trees … I’d noticed people had stopped trimming the trees near the outer wall. Foolish, that. Makes it easier for people to sneak in and out. If not, maybe one of the broken sections … maybe …

  ‘Falcio, food!’ Aline said, lifting me out of my somnolence.

  ‘How long …?’ I asked wearily.

  ‘Almost an hour. I thought it best to let you sleep. You looked comfortable, like you might not try to kill the next person that comes through the door. For a moment I didn’t recognise you.’

  ‘Funny.’

  ‘Enough talking, you two,’ Laetha said. ‘Eat.’

  I’d expected to see simple fare in front of me but this was hardly Cheapside food. There were roasted potatoes and greens, fresh bread, and the dark-reddish butter they favoured in Rijou. There was gravy and salt for dipping. Finally, Laetha brought in an entire roast duck. I could smell the fat dripping from the bird and, tired though I was, I very nearly grabbed the whole thing with my hand.

  ‘Saints, man,’ Radger said with a laugh. ‘You look like you’re going to pass out in Laetha’s lovely roast dinner! Here, drink this.’ He picked up a glass from the sideboard and poured a clear but yellowish liquid into it.

  I took the glass from him as he watched me expectantly. I hesitated.

  Laetha noticed, and put down the knife she was using to carve the duck. ‘Oh, for the love of my ancestors!’ She picked up another glass from the sideboard and filled it from the same flask. She took a drink. ‘See? Not dead. It’s just lemon juice with zinroot – it helps you stay awake.’

  I let my breath out and drank gratefully. ‘To your health, then,
’ I said.

  ‘All right, enough foolishness now,’ Laetha said firmly. ‘Let’s eat.’

  As she heaped food onto our plates I realised the zinroot was indeed waking me up. Saints, but my arms were stiff – in fact, all of me was stiff, really. I wasn’t relishing the thought of what the next few hours would bring once I left the apothecary’s home.

  ‘Will Mattea be back soon?’ Aline asked between mouthfuls.

  ‘Oh, I imagine she’ll be a few more hours,’ Laetha answered.

  I barely paid attention to the conversation, so enamoured of the roast duck on my plate was I. ‘The food is wonderful,’ I said, and Aline nodded, grinning, bits of duck dribbling from her mouth. Hardly the portrait of a young noblewoman, I thought, and far away from the despairing creature who had been moments from taking her own life.

  Saint Caveil, what value does my blade have if it brings so little good to the world?

  ‘Well, I’m just glad we found you,’ Laetha said. ‘We’d had no luck at all, and then poof, there you were, right on the—’

  ‘Laetha,’ Radger interrupted, ‘let’s not make them relive the experience. It was grand luck that brought us together, and with a little more we’ll be able to take good care of our Aline here.’

  ‘I’ve learned not to believe too much in luck,’ I said, and speared a potato, only to drop my fork on the table. ‘Sorry.’

  The meal wasn’t making the stiffness in my joints go away. Not one bit. I looked over at Radger and his wife.

  ‘Where’s Mattea again?’

  ‘As we said, out looking for Aline with some of the others.’

  Laetha started picking up the now empty plates. We had practically obliterated the bountiful meal, and in less time than you could butter a bread roll.

  ‘And yet you haven’t gone out to let any of your friends know that you’ve found us.’

  ‘Well, they’re – they’re all out. There’s no one to tell yet. No one expected to find you so soon.’

  ‘But find us you did,’ I said.

  ‘Grand luck, bountiful luck of the Saints,’ Radger said piously.