by Tony Daniel
He’s good, Wulf thought. As good as Rainer. And bigger.
Fast as a cat, Rainer attempted another charge with his ax, but this time Gunnar was waiting. He turned it aside deftly, then brought his sword around to take a slice at the back of Rainer’s legs. A red line opened up across the back of Rainer’s thighs where the cuisse didn’t meet. Rainer spun about, blood dripping from his legs. Now Gunnar charged. Since he was without shield, he led with the point of his sword.
Rainer didn’t even try to get out of the way, and Wulf gasped. Gunnar was going to run him through.
But at the last moment, Rainer crouched under the path of the sword. Gunnar tried to correct, but too late. He missed, and his momentum brought his legs into the crouching Rainer full tilt. The prince went into a roll, his sword flying away as he fell. He recovered his feet quickly, but now Rainer was standing as well.
And Rainer had his battle-ax.
Hack him to pieces, Rainer! Wulf thought wildly. Off with his crap-filled head!
But Rainer didn’t do that. Instead he lifted his ax in two hands and—threw it to the side. He stood facing Gunnar weaponless.
“No, Rainer!” Wulf shouted. “He’s trying to kill you!”
The prince smiled, though he was breathing too hard to let out a laugh.
The two charged. They met in a clash and clang of armor near the center of the match ring.
Rainer, despite his great ability, was only seventeen years old. Gunnar was twenty-seven and experienced at Viking raids. He also had at least a stone in weight on Rainer.
Rainer tumbled over backward with Gunnar on top of him. In the jumble that followed, Gunnar managed to get his legs around Rainer. He sat up, straddling Rainer’s chest.
Gunnar put two gauntleted hands together and pounded down on Rainer’s face. His blow caught the facemask, the grima of the helmet, and broke it away. The next blow broke Rainer’s nose. Rainer let out a shout of agony and twisted his head away. He tried to raise his hands to defend himself, but Gunnar batted them away. He brought an elbow against Rainer’s temple.
This knocked Rainer unconscious. His head rolled to the side. Gunnar raised his hands to deliver another blow—
And Wulf was on him, hitting, biting, screaming at the top of his lungs, not caring how he stopped the prince. He caught a finger in his mouth and bit down. Gunnar jerked his hand out of Wulf’s mouth with a cry of pain, and Wulf felt skin strip away.
Good.
He spat it out in a bloody wad.
Then Wulf felt as if he’d run into a stone wall full tilt. His body shook. Gunnar had struck him, hard. Another blow to the head.
Wulf fell to the ground. He slowly rose to his knees. There was something dark in the sand. A form shaped like a person, almost like the dark thing from the night before. Could it be?
“Thou know’st,” came the nasty whisper again.
Wulf shook his head to clear it.
He reached out for the dark thing. His hand passed through it. His fingers touched only flint flagstones.
Gunnar’s shadow, he thought. I’m looking at Gunnar’s shadow on the ground.
“That will be enough,” someone said. The voice was commanding. He recognized it. Yes. He knew that voice. “Back off, sir, or I will make you back away.”
Wulf turned his head in the direction of the sound. There, standing a few paces away, stood Master Tolas. He had his walking stick.
“Beg pardon,” said another voice. “Are you speaking to me?” Accented. Not from these parts. Chesapeake accent. Oh. Gunnar. That was the name.
And then it all came flooding back to Wulf, along with a pounding ache in his head. He blinked, rose to one knee.
“I am speaking,” said Tolas. “The question is: Are you listening?”
Gunnar shook his head in disbelief. “Who are you? What are you?”
“I am a gnome,” Tolas said. “More importantly to you, I am Master Albrec Tolas, librarian and tutor to House von Dunstig. And these boys are my students.”
Tolas took a step toward Gunnar and pointed his staff at the man. “If you will not back away, I am afraid you leave me no choice.”
“No choice to do what?” asked Gunnar in amazement.
Albrec raised his stick. He scowled at the gathered boys who were clumped around the circle.
“Listen to me, you men of Shenandoah,” he said in a loud voice. “Do you think that line on the ground is something you cannot cross? Do you have any idea what ‘duty’ means?”
He pointed the stick at the chalk. Then he found a face in the group, Wulf’s cousin who was sixteen. “You, Atli von Dunstig,” he said. He turned to another of the boys, the son of his father’s thane Rokvi, who headed the tax collection service. “You, Vinnil Rokvison.” Tolas’s gazed passed around all the boys. “Kilmund, Beimi, Endil Haraldson.” His gazed lighted on Hlafnest. “And especially you, Hlafnest von Blau. The rest of you, all of you—Wulfgang von Dunstig is the son of your lord, your duke.”
Tolas pointed his walking stick at Gunnar. “Who is this person to you? What do you owe him?” Tolas brought his stick down hard against the flagstones of the courtyard. “Nothing! He is nothing. You owe him nothing.”
Gunnar straightened. “Now, just a minute, gnome—”
Tolas cut him off, continued addressing the crowd. “Are you going to call yourself maggots for the rest of your lives? Are you? Do your duty! Defend Lord Wulf!”
For a moment, there was stillness. Then the assembled boys moved as if mesmerized.
They moved toward Gunnar.
Gunnar looked at them a moment, then began frantically searching for his dropped sword. One of the younger boys, Harek, had already picked it up. He showed it to Gunnar with a sly smile. The prince tried for it, but Harek threw it away, behind the advancing boys.
“Stand back!” Gunnar said. He was holding the finger Wulf had stripped. Blood was dripping from his hands. “I command you to stand back!”
The boys did not obey. They moved forward, slowly closing in.
“Shenandoah scum!” Gunnar picked out a part of the encirclement and stalked toward it. The boys did not move.
“If you hurt those boys, you will pay a very high price,” Tolas called out after him. “Consider, Prince.”
Gunnar pulled up short just before he would’ve bowled over Audmund Ingvisson.
Audmund was only eleven. He was normally a timid little guy, but now he stood his ground bravely. Wulf was proud of him.
“Let me through,” Gunnar shouted into the boy’s face. Audmund didn’t move. Several of the larger boys came up behind the prince. Before he could do anything about it, arms were on him. These were the seventeen and eighteen-year-olds. Two of Wulf’s cousins Thrym and Skalli von Dunstig, who were even bigger than the prince. Plus, they were muscled from ten years in Koterbaum’s practice yard. Gunnar tried to shake them off. They held him firm, and others joined them.
“Let me go!” the prince shouted. He tried to twist away, but couldn’t break their grip. Then, as a group, they frog-marched Gunnar toward the courtyard exit that led to the castle gate. When they got to the stone columns of the exit, they pushed him forward. Gunnar stumbled into the path beyond. Wulf could not see what happened next, but heard shouting that had to be Gunnar. Wulf couldn’t make out the words from this distance, but it sounded like the prince was cursing them all. After that, Gunnar must’ve either gone to the guards for protection or left the castle completely. The group of boys, so unified moments ago, turned around and milled back into the bailey courtyard in groups of three or four. Gunnar did not follow them.
Tolas meanwhile hurried over and knelt beside Rainer. Wulf pulled himself to his feet and went to join him. “That one will be back, and with reinforcements. We have to get Mr. Stope to help quickly.”
“Should we send for the doctor?” Wulf mumbled. “I can—”
“The doctors be cursed,” Tolas answered with a dark laugh. He thought for a moment. “Our young elf,” he said. �
�She has training from her folk over the sea. They are known to be effective healers.”
“Saeunn?”
“Yes. Let us take him to quarters.” Tolas stood up, looked around, and called out. “Koterbaum, you fool! Get over here!”
The arms marshal stumbled toward them as if commanded by a lord.
“Get help to carry the boy inside,” Tolas said. “Two or three of the older lads should do it. Make that useless Hlafnest von Blau one of them, too.”
Koterbaum stood there, doing nothing. Tolas took the staff and whacked the marshal across the shins.
“Blood and bones!” yelled Koterbaum. “Curse it all!” But suddenly complete awareness seemed to flood back into him. “Yes, of course, Albrec. You’re right. I’ll do it now.”
Koterbaum called out a couple of names to bring help. He turned back to Tolas and shook his head. “They wouldn’t have done that for me, Albrec, ganged up on him like that.”
Tolas considered his staff. “Possibly not,” he said. “But there are always other options. You of all people should know that.”
Wulf didn’t listen to them anymore. He turned to his friend, cupped Rainer’s head in his arms. “Wake up, Rainer,” he said. “You can wake up now.”
But Rainer did not wake up. His head dropped to the side as three of the older boys, including Hlafnest von Blau, raised his friend and carried him into the castle. Wulf stumbled behind in a fog of worry and regret.
Chapter Thirteen:
The Touch
Wulf called for Grim when they got inside the castle. The boys, with Wulf in the lead and Tolas chugging after them, brought Rainer up the spiral staircase that led to the third floor and Rainer’s bedchamber. There they laid him on his own bed. Wulf told them all to go.
Hlafnest was the last to leave. He turned to Wulf. There was a look of shock and sadness still on his face. “I’m sorry, Wulf. I let him push me to it,” he said. “I didn’t think anything like this would ever happen.”
Wulf nodded. “I understand,” he replied. “Now get the cold hell out of my sight.”
As Hlafnest left, Saeunn and Ravenelle entered the bedchamber, almost running into him. Ravenelle glared bloody murder at Hlafnest as he passed. Behind them, Grim arrived with two other servants and Fedder, the castle arms keeper, who was a Tier, a badger man.
Badgers were one of the Tier who looked very similar to humans. Only the shape of his face and his black, wet nose showed what he was.
With Wulf’s help, he removed the armor from Rainer while Rainer lay motionless on his bed. Fedder had been Koterbaum’s assistant and equipment handler for years. He worked off Rainer’s mail shirt, moving Rainer’s body the least amount that needed to be done to get the shirt over Rainer’s head.
“Did this quite a few times in the Little War,” the arms keeper said. “It’s never easy on a body, but has to be done or you might not spot all the wounds.”
The two left, and Tolas was about to speak to Wulf when he noticed something over Wulf’s shoulder and made a deep bow.
Wulf turned to see his mother, Duchess Malwin.
She stepped inside and hugged Wulf. “My child,” she said. He was surrounded by the familiar clean scent of her fresh linen and silk dress. “What’s happened to you?”
“I’m all right, Mother,” Wulf said. “Just a little banged up in a match. It’s Rainer we’re worried about.”
Duchess Malwin reluctantly let Wulf go. She stepped over to the bed and gazed at Rainer for a moment. Then she sat down beside him.
“Oh, my dear one,” she said. She touched his forehead gently. Then she pulled up an eyelid and saw that he did not respond. “He’s completely insensible, I take it,” she said. She looked to Saeunn. “Can you help him?”
“I think so, my lady,” Saeunn replied softly.
The duchess stood up, held a silken handkerchief under her chin, and took a long look at Rainer lying there in his quilted arming shirt. There were several deep bruises and patches of blood on the cloth from wounds underneath.
“I swore to his mother to take care of him,” she murmured. “And we do love him.” She turned to Saeunn. “I’ll leave maids for errands, and call for the physician, but until then, do what you can, Saeunn.”
“Yes, m’lady,” Saeunn answered.
Wulf’s mother shook her head. “I have inquiries to make into this matter. I’ll be in my chamber. Send word if you need anything, anything at all.” She started to leave, then turned once more to Wulf. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“A headache and some bumps and bruises, Mother,” he said. “The boys in the yard, they came to my rescue, believe it or not.”
“As well they should,” the duchess replied. “I want to hear the whole story of this. But first, let’s make sure Rainer is all right.”
“Yes, Mother.”
The duchess left. Her trusted lady’s maid, Kinvis, who had been outside in the hallway, followed her, but three other maids remained in the hall, awaiting instructions. Wulf ducked his head out into the hall and saw Grim standing by for orders.
“Keep visitors out,” he told the servant, then closed the door.
Now with Tolas and the three fosters in the room, Wulf noticed how small Rainer’s bedroom really was. It was maybe a quarter the size of his own. There was a desk and chair, a wardrobe, and two chairs for sitting by the fireplace. One of the chairs was pushed toward the fire. It had a pair of boots resting on it. Wulf recognized these as Rainer’s hobnail boots he’d worn the night before. He’d left them to dry and worn another pair today.
Wulf took the empty chair and moved it over to the side of the bed for Saeunn to sit down. She gave him a worried smile. Then she sat and looked at Rainer for a moment, like she was sizing up a problem to solve during one of Tolas’s lessons.
Wulf meanwhile took the hobnail boots from the other chair and set the chair at the foot of the bed for Ravenelle. At first she didn’t take it but pushed the chair to the side and remained standing, staring down at Rainer.
“This is my fault,” she said in a low voice. Wulf stepped up beside her, touched her arm. She looked up at him. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“You didn’t do anything, Ravenelle,” Wulf answered softly.
But red tears were forming in her eyes. “You don’t know,” she said fiercely. Then she shook her head furiously and turned her gaze back to the bed, saying no more. Wulf took her arm and guided her into the chair, which she let him do this time. He went to stand beside Tolas on the other side of the bed.
Rainer was more battered than he’d ever seen anybody. Wulf looked across the bed to Saeunn. The last light of the day streamed through the single window of the room and struck her face with a golden glow.
“She will help,” said Tolas.
Saeunn got to work. She expertly examined Rainer’s body, finding bruises, following them to the worst point of injury and probing deeper, looking for, Wulf supposed, broken bones, damaged organs, things like that. People were like animals on the inside. He knew that was true. But it really hit home when the person was someone you knew and they were not moving except to breathe.
Is he going to die? Is he already on the way?
Saeunn looked up at Wulf. “I’ve called him back,” she said. “It did not take a large effort. He’s strong. He’s here with us again, fighting to wake up.” She passed a hand over Rainer’s eyes and he lost tension in his face and seemed to rest easier. “Sleep a little longer,” she said. Then Saeunn quickly moved her hands together, placed fingers on either side of his split and broken nose—and, with a quick twist, reset it. “There.”
She daubed away a spray of blood she’d released and handed the handkerchief to Wulf. “Give that that to your manservant and tell him to burn it. And while you’re out there, have one of the maids bring me warm honey and fennel in a compress. Tell her to ask Betani, the cook’s assistant, for these things. She knows her herbs. This will help the cuts on his legs.”
Wulf had to
tally forgotten about the gashes Gunnar had slashed across the back of Rainer’s thighs.
Wulf rose and took the bloody rag away. He found Grim and gave the maids Saeunn’s instructions. When he returned, Saeunn was speaking to Tolas.
“—bleeding under the skull is what worries me. I’ve stopped it, I think, but he has to rest for two or three days until he heals enough to keep the vessels from starting to bleed again.” She looked to Wulf and Ravenelle. “That means we’ve got to make him rest.”
“That’ll be a challenge,” said Ravenelle. She blurted out a short, nervous laugh, but the worried expression stayed on her face.
“He may want to get up and finish what he started,” Wulf said.
“Then he’s a fool,” Tolas said. “And so are you if that’s what you’re thinking of doing.” The gnome tugged at his chin, which was beardless but pudgy enough to let him get hold of a flap of skin. “That prince has gotten into his head a dislike of this boy for some reason. It would be a good idea to find out why.”
“It was me,” said Ravenelle. “He got the idea from me.” She looked like she wanted to say more, but bit her lip instead.
“What do you mean, Princess Ravenelle?” said Tolas.
“I—I can’t tell you.”
Tolas looked at her curiously. “I can only think you are you talking about Talaia communion.”
Ravenelle looked up, startled. “How did you know that?”
“I have heard that the Kingdom of Krehennest has established a regular trade in slaves and sugar with the south,” Tolas said. “With such close relations between countries, it stands to reason the Talaian faith has spread north. Perhaps the Krehennest royal family has converted?”
“But that can’t be the truth,” Wulf put in. “Gunnar is a Kalteman.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what happened,” Ravenelle replied, ignoring Wulf’s comment. “He told me so himself. The first time he and I…when he tried to commune with me.”