They were less than a thousand now, which meant that the Rebellion was theoretically destroyed. The countess could join her forces to their army, filling their ranks. They would probably meet Pembroke on the south road in a week. They needed men to counterbalance the lord’s troops. Louis did not want to give the control of the Rebellion to a man who could not be trusted on the battlefield. He would have to support Bertrant as Chief Commander. The idea did not please him, but he remembered what Selen had said about giving the man a chance. Maybe he could work under Bertrant’s authority for a while.
Louis listened to Selen’s soft breathing. He grazed his fingers against Selen’s face and reached his mouth delicately with his lips. Selen mumbled in his sleep and wrapped a lethargic arm around him. Tiredness won over Louis, and he fell asleep cuddled up against his friend.
CHAPTER 38
The Rotten Duck was probably the best place in all Millhaven to get rid of your life, as well as your money. The cook attached great importance to suit his meals to the tavern’s name. From the outside, the place looked dirty and of ill repute. That was only because it was nearly impossible to see through the small, greasy, stained-glass windows. The filth inside was beyond imagination. The air was so thick it stuck to the skin. It reeked of vomit and piss, an aroma which did not come necessarily from the floor. If you were lucky, you could even discern unknown scents, usually coming from the kitchen. The walls bore the marks of previous customers, in different shades of red and brown. Rounded, wooden beams supported the upper floor. The ceiling was too low to support the lights. Therefore, metallic lanterns hung on the sides of the doors and on the pillars. The long wooden benches around the tables were packed with soldiers. The enthusiastic noises from within propagated to the street outside. Sitting on a stool by a barrel in a corner, Segar contemplated his men, a whisky in his hand. The inn was much to his liking. First, it would be the last place where he would encounter his fellow captains. Secondly, there was good pussy, and cheap, by the way. From what he saw, the men made good use of it. The rooms upstairs had been requisitioned by the lieutenants. Therefore, the main room had slowly turned into a brothel.
“You did not join the commander for dinner?” Jamys smirked. He had a girl between his legs working on his cock.
“That countess is a bit too mature for me,” Segar answered. “Neither was I tempted to hear the old man boast about his exploits. Besides, we have more important things to discuss.”
“Let’s talk business,” Jamys grunted.
“Now that Captain Holier-than-thou got us inside Millhaven, we don’t need orc intermediaries anymore,” Segar said. He still had goose bumps of joy when remembering how the commander had slapped that cocky bitch’s face. “We can post our own men at the loading of the convoys.”
“I’ve got some guys that could do the job. There, near the bar,” Jamys cocked his head in their direction.
Segar spotted a bunch of burly soldiers playing cards. One cleaned his black nails with his dagger. Another fondled a wench while emptying his mug. Segar would not even have handed them his horse’s reins to hold while taking a piss. They are perfect, Segar thought.
“We can start tomorrow. We have to sort out the merchandise. After a day like this, there are certainly a lot of new orphans and isolated women to pick from the streets. Do you hear me?” The girl between his partner’s legs finished her business.
“Yeah, I hear you,” Jamys cried out, his chiselled face tensed.
“Have the infirmaries and temples checked. Have your men dressed as civilians, but don’t be foolish. This is smuggling, not an exodus,” Segar insisted. “Don’t be too greedy.”
“I know my job,” Jamys grumbled. “Where do I find the chariots?”
This was the real difficulty. The control-freak brat would certainly make a list of all that went in and out of Millhaven, especially chariots. “Corrupt a shopkeeper and use his trade as a cover or use some religious pretext to send people north. Building a village, founding a community, I don’t care.” Segar had heard that this was the way Colten Three Fingers from Embermire used to run his trade.
“I’ve heard they want us back on the road in three days,” Jamys said.
“Eager to have their throats cut by orcs or their asses roasted by a dragon.” Segar cleared his throat and spat. “We have no choice but to follow them. Now I tell you, they won’t have me on the front line.” Segar was pretty sure they would not fetch him either. “I give them the men, they leave me alone. We’ll see who’ll turn out roasted in the end.” Segar smirked.
“Three days of rest after four years of war. Curse them.” Jamys snorted and spat.
Segar saw three young, busty wenches enter the tavern. “Eh! If it’s not my gift!” he exclaimed.
The girls walked in his direction and stopped by his barrel. “My lord,” the first one said with a curtsy.
“So. How did it go? Did they give you a good shag? I want all the details,” Segar asked with a lubricious smile. When he had heard the man ask for a bath, Segar had jumped on the occasion to have his theory tested. He had run to the best brothel of Millhaven and had sent the most attractive harlots to the castle. Such girls knew their way in castles alcoves and would play their part brilliantly.
The girls lowered their heads and exchanged looks. “They didn’t touch us, my lord.”
“How can that be possible?” Segar yelled. “Did you do as I said? Did you show some cunt?”
The girls squirmed. “We did as you said, my lord. We poured the baths and undressed. The tattooed one didn’t even look at us. The gorgeous one…he threatened to get us killed!” she shrieked faintly.
“That would be a waste,” Jamys said. “Three beauties like you.”
“And expensive,” Segar interjected. Yet, the trap had worked. It was what he had suspected. If a man would not touch these girls, he would touch none. “And that tattooed one,” he asked the girls, “you saw him naked? Is he a man?”
“Oh yes, my lord. He is,” the girls sighed with disappointment.
Segar smirked. The noose was tightening. When the girls made a move to leave, Segar grabbed one. “I still have paid you for a job.” At his side, Jamys had a coarse chuckle.
CHAPTER 39
“My lord?” Louis called politely at the entrance of the commander’s chambers. For once, he did not wear his armour. It had been so stained with blood that he would need to have it cleaned thoroughly. He was dressed in black, narrow pants, a white shirt with ample sleeves, and a long, simple, royal blue tunic slit from the waist and falling on both sides of his legs. His sword and a dagger were fastened to his belt. Louis did not fear that someone would attack him in Millhaven, but he would never go out unarmed. He had to admit that walking around in his riding boots was a lot more comfortable than the heavy greaves.
Bertrant sat at the table, studying the maps. The stay in Millhaven had drastically improved his appearance. He wore a new doublet made of red velvet. He was freshly shaved and his blond hair was combed. “Come in,” Bertrant said.
Louis breathed deeply. He forced the words out. “I wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday. What I did was…” right, he thought, “unforgivable. It won’t happen again.”
“Excuses rejected,” Bertrant responded. “You don’t believe a word of what you say.” Louis was opening his mouth again to object when Bertrant turned to him. “No. Don’t speak. I’m not done. Close the door.”
Louis entered the room and moved to the other side of the table, facing Bertrant. He felt uneasy and upset.
“Now that we are just you and me, rested after what I assume a good night’s sleep, let me make things clear to you,” Bertrant said. “You are a stubborn, irritating, insubordinate man, following only your own rules and turning them into laws. One day, you will find someone with less patience than me, and it will turn ugly. Now, on the other side, you are brave and the best captain I have ever had or seen. The Rebellion needs you, and yesterday, the men showed that they w
ould follow you to the death. As your commander, and according to your own rules, I should have had you executed. Yet, I would like to give you one more chance, if you would finally agree to work with me and respect my authority. I will not tolerate a second Millhaven. Besides, if you want to control Pembroke, and I know you do, you will need me.”
“There won’t be another Millhaven, my lord,” Louis said. This time, he meant what he said. “I sincerely apologize. I despise my insubordination, and my behavior yesterday was unforgivable. Yet, I did what I thought was right. All that matters to me is our victory. I have no interest in glory or power. Our men deserve the glory more than us.”
“This is why you still breathe. Do you agree to follow my orders and keep me informed of your moves and decisions before you make them?” Bertrant insisted. “In return, I will put you in charge of the organization of the men and the camp. You can carry on setting your rules, but I must have your report on it the day before.”
“I do agree, my lord,” Louis answered. He could never have hoped for more.
“And you will never contradict me again in front of my men,” Bertrant added.
“I won’t, my lord.” Louis felt humiliated, but he swallowed his pride for the greater good.
“There is one last thing,” Bertrant carried on. “You and your friend Selen are nothing but mere captains in the eyes of the lords. To establish your authority, I have to dub you. We will do it in two days in the great hall. I don’t do it for your own sake. I do it to show them what the Rebellion is worth.”
Louis was taken aback. People had called him lord and knight for weeks, but he had never believed that he could become one. He wanted to be someone, but he did not want to be a lord. If the knighthood Bertrant had mentioned was just a military title to acknowledge his actions, it already sounded better. On the other hand, he remembered how Selen had talked about his tattoos. To become a knight would certainly please his friend. “It would be an honour, my lord. Thank you.”
“Then I think it’s settled. Come here.” Bertrant pointed at the map. “These fields here are where we will encounter Pembroke in six days. I have sent a bird to inform him of our victory. You have three days to prepare our army, find volunteers, and reorganize the stocks. Can you manage it?”
“Can I ask the help of Faremanne?” Louis asked.
“Of course. All the captains are at your disposition.”
“On that subject… What of Segar and Jamys? It’s not that I like to have them around, but I find their absence disconcerting. Do you trust these rascals?” Louis asked.
“Segar and Jamys are a plague in my army, but I desperately need their men. Keep them away if you have to. Just don’t create a scandal, not here,” Bertrant insisted.
“Yes, my lord. If you excuse me, I will start immediately.” Louis gave a short bow and took his leave.
Selen was waiting for him in the castle’s inner yard. He had changed his old clothes for a green hooded tunic and brown pants. “How did it go?” Selen asked.
“I think we came to an agreement,” Louis answered, satisfied. “We have a lot to do. I…”
“My Captains!” Lady Khorkina interrupted them. She walked towards them with a young man in her path. The countess looked radiant. “Let me present you my nephew, Josselin of Langdon.” The young man behind her was tall with long blond hair. He had a broad scar on the left side of his once comely face and had lost the use of his eye on that side.
Louis noticed that he stared at the man with commiseration. “I’m sorry.”
“You do not need to apologize. I am used to the looks,” Josselin said.
“I’m sorry to ask,” Selen said, “but who did that to you?”
“I was commander of Millhaven’s army three years ago. The orcs did that to me when I was imprisoned,” Josselin answered.
“What can we do for you, my lord?” Louis inquired.
“It’s more what I can do for you. I would like to join the Rebellion with the men that the orcs left me. I can also help you to recruit more soldiers among the city’s inhabitants,” Josselin said.
“We would be honored to have you on our side, my lord,” Louis responded.
“I will go to the infirmary,” Selen said. “We need to know how many men were injured or dead. I will also search for Folc. I haven’t seen him since before the battle.”
“Maybe Josselin can go with you,” Louis proposed. “I need to check our stocks of food. I could find Folc over there. He stood with the attendance before the battle.” The last thing Louis had wanted that morning was to see the boy on the first line. Thus, he had been clear with Folc that disobedience of a direct order would have consequences.
The men departed. Louis headed to the lower parts of the city where the materiel had been stored. He found the warehouses easily. Guards of the Rebellion stood on the sides of the open doors, and some of their men were busy unloading chariots. They bore casks inside the depot. Louis spotted Faremanne writing a list in a corner. He hailed the captain.
“You came here early,” Louis said.
“I knew you would be busy with Bertrant. I was worried about our stocks. As you can see for yourself, I had some reasons.”
“Is that really what we have left?” Louis asked Faremanne, contemplating the pieces of woods, bits of metal, and beams scattered in the warehouse.
“We have dismantled all the carts and chariots to build the trebuchets. The hinges won’t endure another bend. It would take more than three days to forge all the parts again,” Faremanne replied.
“But three days is all we have. We need chariots to transport the supplies. We must requisition the city’s artisans. What of the food?”
“It depends on if we eat the cows or if we milk them, but we are short of meat,” Faremanne sighed.
“Men don’t need meat.” They could well hold on wheat and chickpeas. A better diet would improve their constitution and intellect.
“They do,” Faremanne objected. “You don’t, but they do. Meat and wine. You won’t have them walking without that.”
Louis sighed. “And what of the latter?” Wine was important.
“With the restriction on alcohol, we have plenty enough of it. Same with the rest.” Faremanne gestured in the direction of barrels and casks stored on the left of the warehouse.
“I will see what I can do for the meat. Send one of your men to me with a list of the details,” Louis said. As they talked, he grew worried for Folc. The boy had not stayed with the supplies. Louis left the warehouse and went down the paved street to the part of the city where the cheapest taverns and inns stood. If he had not appeared at the castle, the boy had probably looked for a room somewhere.
The streets in this area were narrow. Hardwood planks and soiled sandstone pillars made up most of the shabby facades. Broken barrels leaned against the walls. A brown slime mixed with twigs of straw ran in the gutter. Horse dung was scattered on the pavement. Rusted, chipped signs squeaked in the wind above the thresholds. Louis heard the clinks of beer mugs and the jolly chanting of men. Heavily made-up harlots harangued the men on the streets. Their faded gowns opened up, revealing besmirched petticoats. Their dresses had square or V-necks which displayed their firm, generous tits. They showed legs and pouted with fleshy, red lips.
“By the gods, girls, look what’s walking down there!” he heard one say, followed by whispers of awe. “I have not seen such a mouth since Katheryn left us.”
Louis realized they talked of him. He hated when anyone who was not Selen commented on his lips.
“Want to try your mouth on my cunt, sweetheart?” the same voice said. He turned his head towards the girl with utter shock.
“You’re scaring him, Rose. You see our prince’s lost his way to the castle. You can have me any way you want, babe. I’ll help you find the back door!” the redhead exclaimed, bunching up her skirts over her rear. The girls giggled with bawdy laughter. Louis looked at them with consternation and disgust.
“Don’
t make such a face, darling. We’ve been bad. Come. You can punish us all three with your cock. With such a sexy ass, we’ll definitely make you a price,” the young girl with the unlaced corsage said.
Louis scowled at such vulgarity and hastened his pace before their spectacle attracted the attention of his soldiers. He heard someone scream in the distance.
“My man has already paid you. So do as you’re told!” a man shouted. Louis could not see him, but he read the fear on the woman’s face as the man pressed on her shoulder, forcing her to her knees.
“Let go of her,” Louis ordered with a calm, toneless voice.
The man turned around, revealing Segar’s hatchet face. His angry, nasty eyes narrowed. “Oh, if it’s not our brave captain! Acting all smug again?” Segar let go of the girl and turned to Louis.
“Watch your words, Segar,” Louis said, his teeth clenched. He walked towards the man.
“Or what? You’re going to arrest me, in front of my men?” Segar bawled. Soldiers poked their heads out of taverns doorframes. “You don’t have the…”
Louis silenced him with a hard smack in the face. “I have authority over you, Segar,” he said loud and clear. Only force would impress the men around. Louis felt a spark of pleasure from humiliating someone that vile. He would gladly have kicked him down and rid the world of this trash.
Segar stood on one knee, pressing on his cheek with one hand. “I see…” As he rose, Segar punched Louis rudely in the chest, then in the face.
Louis’s face turned with the blow. He bent with his hands on his thighs. His ribs were in flames. He put his fingers to his lips. He was bleeding. The vermin had hurt him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Segar come forward, his right fist raised and clenched, ready to hit. Quick as a cat, Louis rose. He grabbed the captain’s arm with his left hand and smashed his right fist into Segar’s face. To free his right arm from Louis’s iron grip, Segar bit his wrist. Louis yelled with pain yet did not let go. At the same time, the captain threw a knee to his crotch, but Louis turned and got the mighty blow on the hip instead. Mad with hatred, Louis unsheathed his dagger and sliced at Segar’s left forearm. A trickle of blood appeared on the man’s shirt. Twisting the man’s right arm, Louis pushed Segar violently against a wall and pressed his dagger against the man’s throat. Louis breathed hard. His eyes were filled with rage, his jaws clenched. His brain urged him not to kill the man. Segar’s execrable smirk was still on his face. Louis could smell his foul, beer-taste breath. Segar had saliva dripping on his goatee. Louis was conscious that every man around had gathered in a semicircle around them, observing the scene.
Rising from Dust (Light from Aphelion Book 1) Page 25