Traitor Blade: (Books 1-3)

by Richard Crawford

  "No, and we don't expect payment. Mathieu promised we'd help you and we will. If you know something, I won't push you, Remy. Nor will Jaime. But think on it, there's something bad happening. All we want is to make sure no one else gets hurt."

  It sounded easy, but Remy knew better. "I don't know anything. I just want everyone to leave me alone." It was too dark to see the other man's face, but he heard the disappointment in his voice.

  "Don't fret, you're safe with us, Remy."

  ####

  The next morning they set off at first light, eating breakfast as they rode. Remy felt chilled through to his bones as if he would never be warm again. A wedge of dry bread and an apple did nothing to help. As soon as they returned to the track, Jaime pushed his horse to a canter. Miserable at the thought of another day's hard riding, Remy followed.

  The morning passed in a blur as he ducked to avoid low branches, and tried to forget the constant nag of aching muscles. Jaime set a hard pace along narrow overgrown paths, only reining in when it was necessary to rest the horses. Midday passed. They slowed for a while and ate in the saddle. At the next rest, Jaime turned to Bruno.

  "We have to be near the road by now."

  Bruno nodded. "And we need a plan if we are to have any hope of finding them."

  "We'll ask," Jaime said, shortly.

  Remy saw he was gathering his reins, ready to push on again. With a sigh, he prepared to follow, but ahead of him, Bruno had halted his horse. Remy stopped before he ran into him.

  "Jai," Bruno called.

  Jaime turned back. "What?"

  "Listen."

  For a moment, there was only the rustle of leaves. One of the horses snorted. Then Remy heard it too, the clash of steel and something that sounded like screams. Jaime was already wheeling his horse.

  "Jai, wait." Bruno's call was ignored as Jaime spurred his horse through the trees and out of sight.

  Remy grabbed hold of the reins as his horse started to follow. His heart was thumping as the terror he had felt at Chamfort returned. Beside him, Bruno swore softly.

  "I have to go after him," he said. "You hang back and stay out of sight. We'll return for you." Then he was gone too.

  Alone, Remy fought to control his horse as it plunged and reared, desperate to follow its friends. He did not want to follow. He did not want to be part of whatever trouble they found. Why should he care what happened? He owed them nothing. Then he remembered Bruno's kindness and Jaime's sneering contempt. The words echoed in his head, how many more friends would he let down.

  But these men were not his friends. He yanked on the reins, turning the horse away and kicking it to a canter. The animal napped and reared as if it disapproved of his decision. Then it obeyed, and soon they were cantering back along the path to safety. There was an ache in his throat, fear and something more. With a curse, Remy slowed his horse to a walk. Laying its ears back, the horse crabbed sideways, trying to turn and bolt back to its friends. Remy patted its neck with a shaking hand.

  "Stupid animal," he said. "They don't care about you." The horse's ears flicked at the sound of his voice, and it settled. "I don't even have a sword." But, in the end, he could not ride away. And where would he go?

  The least he could do was see how they fared.

  He turned back and eased the reins. The horse surged to a canter. One part of him was terrified to go back, the other was terrified to go on alone. The horse tugged at the reins, stretching to gallop. Leaves smacked his face and Remy hunched in the saddle. He tried to steady the horse, but it did not listen. They thundered back along the track.

  The road and the ditch were hidden until he was nearly upon it. Remy yanked hard on the reins just as the horse saw the ditch and slowed to a sliding halt. For a moment, he was thrown up the horse's neck. When he recovered, he peered anxiously through the bushes and branches. He could hear screams. The sound sent shivers down his spine. It took every ounce of courage to move closer.

  In the road, a carriage lay overturned, and four hard-pressed defenders faced ten mounted attackers. The screams were coming from the carriage. Poised to turn and run, Remy stared transfixed and watched as Jaime engaged the attackers.

  All his life Remy had revered an ideal of skill, bravery and courage. He had seen it in Edouard de Chamfort, a knight every squire dreamed of emulating. That dream had soured when he learned his hero was a murderer. Now as he watched Jaime, it was born again. Facing six of the attackers, Jaime fought with a wild, committed brilliance.

  On a tired, laboring horse, Jaime executed moves with dazzling but economic precision. His first charge left the attackers in disarray. Before they could recover, he spurred his horse and charged again so ferociously he nearly managing to break through to the besieged defenders. But this bold plan failed and left him alone and surrounded, beyond the defenders' help. The attackers were well trained and moved as one. The winter light flickered across blades already dulled by blood as Jaime was forced to desperate defense.

  Watching, heart in mouth, Remy longed for a sword. He could not bear to see such bravery fail. Caught up in the moment, he was a heartbeat from leaping his horse over the ditch. Then, as he watched, Bruno arrived, bursting from the trees to crash against Jaime's attackers from behind. His unexpected charge felled one man and relieved the pressure on Jaime as the attackers were split between battles.

  Bruno's scarred face was a fearsome, intimidating mask, and he fought neatly with concentrated strength and skill. He did not dazzle like Jaime, but his solid assistance and timely arrival shocked the attackers, and soon they split before the combined assault. The men defending the carriage seemed to gain new heart, and the initiative began to slip away from the enemy. As their injuries mounted, even the superiority of their numbers looked threatened.

  Caught by an excitement that overshadowed fear, Remy now wished beyond anything that he had a weapon and that he might join the fight. He strained forward in the saddle, desperate to see everything. He watched as Jaime held against three men. Beyond him, the original defenders still protected the carriage, but now they pressed the attackers back. Facing two men, Bruno bludgeoned one aside with vicious economy and turned on the other.

  As the battle continued the horses churned the ground to deeper mud, and then struggled to answer their rider's commands; clouds of steam rose as men and beasts labored. Around the carriage, hard-won space developed as the defenders pressed their besiegers away, but the chilling screams continued. Bruno fought with two men. Wily and neat, he evaded their best attempts to trap him.

  Jaime faced three men. Close by, Remy saw the man who seemed to be the leader was waiting patiently. He watched for an opening. Jaime did not spare him a glance; he had other worries. The shadow knights were fighting desperately now as their advantage slipped away. Jaime's horse was tiring in the deep mud and was slower to respond to his commands. This threatened his ability to stay clear of his attackers. Remy glanced to the shadow knights' leader. If he joined the fight, Jaime would be in trouble, however dazzling his skill, one blade alone could not repel four. Fighting with fierce concentration, Jaime showed no such concern. He met a new attack with an edged parry, and steel screamed as he took a moment too long to disengage.

  Close by, the leader fingered his sword hilt. His eyes were cold as he assessed the fight and chose the moment to press his advantage. He spurred his horse forward. Jaime reined his horse round and prepared to face another enemy. But, with clinical deliberation, the leader ignored him. He rode instead for Bruno. Unaware, Bruno was engaged in pressing defense into attack. In that moment overstretched, he offered an exposed, vulnerable back. Fixed on his opponent, unaware of the danger behind him, Bruno made the opening and brought his sword up to claim a kill.

  Remy felt a cry choke somewhere in his throat. He watched the movement mirrored as another sword flashed up behind Bruno. He waited for it to slice down on his unprotected back. Instead, a long shaft of pure steel flashed across the road and thwacked into the leader's back
. Blinking with amazement, Remy looked to see where the weapon had come from. He realized that it was Jaime's sword, thrown with fearsome power and accuracy, while Jaime faced the remaining shadow knights with only a long knife.

  Unable to sustain his defense without a sword, Jaime launched himself from the saddle. He hit the nearest of his enemies, bringing the man crashing to the ground with him. Jaime's dagger arm rose and fell. In a moment he was on his feet and armed again. Blood splattered, he turned to face a mounted opponent. Across the road, Bruno killed one man and the other fell back, seeming mesmerized by his leader's dramatic fall. A moment's hush fell across the road.

  The remaining dark knights drew away from their opponents and closer together. Their leader was dead, and it seemed they had lost the will to fight. But the one who faced Jaime did not hesitate, he spurred his horse and charged. Face twisted with anger, he roared a challenge. Jaime waited, feet half mired in clinging mud and dangerously exposed. The man's expectation was clear, against an unhorsed opponent it should be an easy kill.

  Remy watched, gripped by a strange certainty and an unholy wish to see it proven; Jaime could not be bettered by the likes of this. It was quick when it came, and brutal. Jaime brought the horse down with a sweeping cut. The shadow knight fell hard, and Jaime was on him before he could recover. It was an ugly victory, and not a move practiced by knights on the tournament field. There was no honor in it, but nonetheless, it was satisfying.

  It was enough to break the other shadow knights. Abandoning their dead, dragging their injured with them, they were gone.

  The road was silent, but for the panting breath of the defenders and sobbing screams from the carriage. Remy eased his horse free of the trees and over the ditch on to the road. He watched as Jaime walked toward the carriage. He spoke briefly with the defenders, and two of the men climbed up to free those trapped inside. Remy rode to where Bruno was waiting, but his eyes remained fixed on Jaime. Bruno followed his gaze.

  "He's still the same miserable bastard you hated yesterday," he said.

  "But he was incredible." Remy could not keep the awe from his voice. "He's so brave and fearless. He fights like a knight."

  "What would you know of it, boy?" Bruno said, frowning. "He fights well, no doubt of it. But as for brave." He shook his head. "The truth is he knows no fear, and that's easy enough when you have no care for your life, or that of others."

  The harshness of the words silenced Remy for a moment. "But he saved you, when it might have cost him..."

  "Aye," Bruno said, the anger suddenly gone. His gaze followed Remy's. "And perhaps it is unfair of me, but I've seen this wildness in him before. It will have no good end."

  "Where did he learn to fight like that?"

  Bruno's laugh was short and bitter. "You had the right of it, boy, he might have been a knight, had things gone differently." He hesitated, choosing his words. "He was cousin to a Duke, and as close to him as a brother. He rode at his side, and he was due to be knighted by the King. They say his skill at arms could hardly be matched."

  As the story halted, Remy urged. "What happened?"

  "The Duke died," Bruno said shortly and turned away. "It's not my story to tell, Remy. But if you make Jaime your hero, have a care, for he will act beyond decency or excuse when it suits."

  Remy hardly heard the warning. By the carriage, Jaime was helping to rescue those inside. One of the liveried men lifted down two sobbing children, a small boy and girl, and then their mother, a delicate brunette. The children clung to her, but gradually the screams gave way to sobs. Jaime waited close by as she calmed her children. Bruno stayed back. Remy remained with him.

  A soft rain began to fall. Bruno turned from watching and began to search the dead enemies. Remy helped him, but they found nothing to tell them who the men were. One thing was certain, they were not Chamfort knights, and Remy did not think they were St Andre's men. He said as much when Bruno asked. Bruno nodded and looked thoughtful.

  A little while later, Bruno called him over. "Remy."

  He looked up. Across the road, Bruno was holding out a sword.

  "You trained at Chamfort. I would guess you know how to use a sword?"

  He nodded and went to take the blade. It was plain but well made, and of a length and weight suited to him. Bruno watched as he hefted it.

  "How's it feel?"

  "Good." He said, and hesitated gripped by a moment's uncertainty. He glanced at the bodies. "I've never…" It was hard to admit he'd never killed a man.

  Bruno seemed to understand. "Well, it will be better if you can defend yourself. We'll ask Jai if he'll spar with you, for practice."

  The uncertainty remained, but Remy strapped the sword on and followed Bruno across to the carriage. Jaime was talking softly with the dark haired lady. The children had nearly quieted, but they looked up in fear as Bruno approached. Their mother reassured them.

  "It's all right, he's a friend."

  The children cowered back, still frightened, but their mother smiled in greeting.

  "Thank you, sir, I don't know how we may ever repay such help."

  Jaime looked to Bruno, above the bloody shirt and mud stained clothes his face showed no fatigue. A tense excitement made him seem wilder yet.

  "This is the Countess de Debrauche, Bruno. She tells a tale that we have heard before. I think we can help her." He glanced to the Countess before continuing. "The domain of Debrauche is about ten leagues north within the Chamfort woods. It is not a great holding, but there are eight villages on the Count's land. Over the weeks, the outlying villages have suffered attacks. At first, the Count thought it was the work of outlaws. But it is now clear that it is something more sinister. The attacks come ever closer to Debrauche, and so the Count decided to send the Countess and the children to the safety with her father. That is where she was headed, but it seems their enemies were waiting."

  "A grim tale and what have you told the lady?" Bruno asked.

  "I have told her that we have men, and we can help the Count defend his villages."

  Bruno's voice was flat as he said, "And does the lady want our help."

  Remy could not tell if he was pleased by Jaime's offer or not.

  The Countess answered. "I believe my husband would welcome help. I would like to return with you to Debrauche and speak with him, but your friend insists my husband's wishes should be followed."

  Jaime nodded. "With the remaining guards, I will see the Countess to safety at her father's home, and then ride for Debrauche," he said. "While you find Mathieu and the company and bring them to Debrauche as quickly as possible." As Bruno hesitated, he continued. "What else can we do? We must help."

  After a moment Bruno nodded, though he did not look pleased. He looked briefly to where Remy waited, adding. "Remy will ride with you. I will travel quicker alone."

  Jaime scowled but said nothing. It seemed a strange choice. But then Remy realized that they did not want him to know where the men were camped. They did not trust him. But he did not care; he wanted to go with Jaime.

  It was quickly arranged. Jaime took charge. He gave orders and the Countess' men retrieved what they could carry of her luggage, caught up the loose horses, and gathered their dead and wounded. The Countess mounted astride a spare horse, and her little daughter was passed up to her. One of the guards took the young boy in front of him.

  Bruno paused a moment to confer with Jaime before he left at a gallop. Remy watched him leave with a measure of regret. He realized he would not see the big man again until he reached Debrauche. He must rely on Jaime's protection. Despite his newfound admiration for Jaime, the thought made him uneasy.

  He was told to take charge of the horses that carried the bodies of the Countess' slain guards and the fallen knights. Riding at the back of the cavalcade, with just one man behind him, Remy gazed at the slack bodies laid across the saddles of the spare horses. He had seen dead men before, but never so many. His first close up experience of brutal death left him as confu
sed as his reassessment of Jaime threatened to. These men had attacked a woman and her children, surely they deserved to die. Still, he was not easy with the sight of so many bodies. He wondered why everything was so complicated; such things did not seem to bother men like Jaime.

  They rode gently for the children's sake and made slow progress. He could see how much this irked Jaime. But there was nothing to be done and it was evening by the time the Countess signaled they had nearly reached her father's holdings. Both children had long since succumbed to sleep and, exhausted. Remy could only envy them.

  The cavalcade left the road to follow a paved track through the forest. It was not long before they reached a small, well-tended manor house set by a river and small mill. The slow journey had taken most of the day, and by the time they had delivered the Countess and her children into the care of her father and explained what had happened, it was too late to start for Debrauche. Jaime reluctantly accepted the offer of shelter for the night.

  Chapter 41

  The next morning, Jaime insisted they leave at first light. Remy would have liked a little time to rest. Even after a night in a soft bed, he was aching and tired. He was also anxious about what would they would find at Debrauche.

  The Countess came out to see them off. She had insisted her remaining guards return with them. There were dark circles under her eyes, and it looked as if she had not slept. In the dawn light, she thanked Jaime for his assistance, and her voice broke a little as she sent her love to her husband. Watching, Remy saw her tears, but he also saw her strength as she struggled against fear. He knew that she would have returned with them, but for her children.

  On the return ride, Jaime again set a fast pace, and there was no chance to speak until they slowed to rest the horses. As they walked their blowing mounts, Remy found himself close by Jaime. After moment's hesitation, he found the courage to speak. "Bruno found me a sword."