by Martin Owton
“Good, now we just wait.”
Time passsed and the sky darkened from blue to star-speckled purple, but the streets remains busy.
“This will make it easier, Captain,” said Ezrin, looking up from his crystal. “Maldwyn is going to meet the other one in the tavern up the lane afterwards.”
“Fine. We’ll take him there. Send the runner around again.”
***
The tavern was light and airy with comfortable chairs, and the serving wenches were pretty. It was not to Davo’s liking. There were no dark corners and no dice games and the wenches’ bright smiles had a ‘hands off’ quality about them. Davo sat down in an inglenook with a bad grace and prepared to wait for Maldwyn.
The ale was good enough that Davo was drinking four tankards to the hour as he imagined what the young lord was up to and watched the tavern fill up. He had barely noticed the new arrivals until he was on his sixth tankard and Tancred walked in. Davo choked on his ale and nearly dropped the tankard. Tancred did not appear to notice Davo immediately, so the little man withdrew as far as he could into the inglenook and kept the tankard in front of his face. Tancred sat with a group of men, all with the haircut and demeanour that said ‘soldier’ to Davo; another group sat at the next table. All of them drank very little and watched the door out of the corners of their eyes.
What’s going on? thought Davo, his stomach filled with ice. What’s that bastard Tancred doing here and who are these soldiers? Whatever the answer, he was certain it added up to trouble.
He sat in his corner trying to work out what he should do. The only exit was on the far side of the tavern. To reach it he would have to walk out in front of Tancred and the soldiers. As he considered he became aware of the pressure on his bladder, the natural consequence of the ale he had consumed. In a very short time the pressure became intense; Davo briefly considered refilling the tankard he had just drained but doubted that it would prove sufficient. He slipped from his corner to the door that led to the back yard and the privies. No heads turned to follow his progress.
The yard was contained by the high walls of the adjoining buildings, leaving no exit. Davo relieved himself into the barrel and hurried back into the taproom just in time to see Maldwyn enter, a dreamy smile on his face. Maldwyn took four steps into the room before Tancred stood up.
“Well met, cousin,” said Tancred, an oily grin on his face.
“Tancred,” said Maldwyn, his mouth falling open in surprise. “Wha…what are you doing here?
“I could ask you the same question, except that I know what you’ve been doing. Not something that your father would approve of, I think, cousin.” The oily grin broadened.
Maldwyn turned red and spluttered incoherently as he tried to answer.
“I think we should go now, don’t you?” Tancred took Maldwyn gently by the arm.
“Where are we going?” said Maldwyn resisting Tancred’s efforts to push him towards the door.
“Away from the wickedness and temptation.”
“But I have to meet people here.” Maldwyn twisted away from Tancred’s grasp and picked up a stool, holding it by one leg.
“If they are frequenting such places as this then they are not friends worth having,” said Tancred smugly. “What would your mother say?”
“Who are these people?” said Maldwyn as the soldiers stood up. He looked desperately around the room, then dropped the stool as they moved to surround him
“Just some friends of mine,” said Tancred. “You’ve fallen in with some very low company and I’ve needed their help to find you.”
Davo watched in dismay as the soldiers hustled Maldwyn out of the taproom followed by Tancred. No-one looked in his direction as the room emptied. He thought for a moment or two and then followed them through the door. Aron is going to kill me for this, he thought.
A few paces down the street, the soldiers stood in a protective circle around Maldwyn and Tancred. As Davo watched, another man walked up to them and the soldiers saluted him.
“Well done, Tancred,” said the man. “Good to have you back with us, Lord Maldwyn.”
Maldwyn froze for a moment as he recognised Nicoras, and then turned on Tancred.
“You treacherous dog,” he cried, seizing his cousin by the throat. “You’ll die for this.”
He wrestled Tancred to the ground before the strong arms of the soldiers broke his grip and pulled him away. Tancred sat in the middle of the street gasping for breath. Looking up, his eyes met Davo’s.
“Him too! Get him too,” shouted Tancred pointing up the street.
Davo turned to run, but before he had taken five paces two crossbows twanged and the impact of the bolts pitched him face down before the tavern door.
CHAPTER 29
“Can someone please explain why His Majesty so urgently wishes to see me to discuss the matter of Nandor?”
The Duke of Sarazan spoke in a moderate and reasonable tone that all those present recognised as concealing extreme annoyance. He had arrived very late the previous evening, and now the sun was barely up before he had summoned Theobald and Nicoras to attend him. His eldest son, Lord Reginal, stood silently behind his father’s chair.
“Earl Baldwin of Nandor had audience of His Majesty yesterday, my Lord,” said Theobald.
“Did you not receive the despatch that I sent, my Lord?” said Nicoras. “It was sent the moment we reached here.”
Nicoras had a headache and was unprepared to meet his master at this early hour. He had permitted his men to have a small celebration to mark Maldwyn’s recapture last night.
“I did not receive any despatches,” said the Duke sharply.
“The courier was sent to the royal hunting lodge, but by the time he reached it you were probably on the way to Westport,” said Theobald. “He’s probably on the road between here and Westport.”
“And what were the contents of this despatch?”
“I haven’t actually read it, of course, my Lord,” said Nicoras.
“Of course not,” said the Duke, giving Nicoras a hard stare. “ But I’m sure you can tell me what I need to know.”
“It began in that strip of disputed land,” said Nicoras. “Lord Hercival took a group of his friends riding up there.” The Duke’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. “They were attacked without warning by a band of Nandoran soldiers led by Lord Maldwyn, the Earl’s son. They repelled the attack and captured some of the Nandorans, including Lord Maldwyn, though they did suffer some injury.”
“Serious injuries?” asked the Duke with concern.
“Serious enough. One fellow may never ride again and will always walk with a limp. Anyway, they captured Lord Maldwyn and took him back to Sarazan and Lord Hercival sent to Nandor demanding ransom.”
“I understand now why his Majesty wishes to see me,” said the Duke, his face stern. “This is the very thing he is striving to end in the Kingdom. Have I not just returned from Westport where I urged the Duke to end his feud with his neighbour Lord Egil? How does this look to his eyes? Years I have spent in cultivating his trust, and this act of stupidity will undo it all. Theobald, dispatch the message birds at once and summon Lord Hercival here. Reginal, it seems you must return to Sarazan to take charge, since I cannot rely on your brother.”
“Yes, father,” said Lord Reginal, his face serious. “This is most regrettable.”
The Duke fixed Nicoras with a cold eye. “That does not explain why you are here.”
“Maldwyn of Nandor escaped from Castle Sarazan, my Lord, and we pursued him,” replied Nicoras. “We recaptured him last night. He’s confined in a room here, my Lord.”
“Escaped? How?”
“He got out over the back wall and swam the lake.”
“Is that all?” asked the Duke bleakly.
“We lost some men in the pursuit, my Lord.”
“How many?”
“Six in the boat and another five in taking th
e Nandoran rescue party.”
“Rescue party?”
“Earl Baldwin sent a group of soldiers under his nephew Tancred to rescue Maldwyn. We’ve got Tancred too.”
“Baldwin sent soldiers into Sarazan?” The duke’s mouth was a narrow slit of anger beneath his beak of a nose.
“Yes my Lord. We captured all save two. Those two got away downriver with Maldwyn and we tracked them to the Holy City with Master Ezrin’s aid. We lost another five men trying to take them in a tavern on the river.”
The Duke sat in silence for a moment before he spoke, his eyes seeming fixed on some point far beyond the room.
“So, not only have I incurred His Majesty’s extreme displeasure and lost half a platoon of trained soldiers, but all the nobles of the kingdom will be laughing up their sleeves at me for losing a prisoner and letting Earl Baldwin, of all people, get the better of me. Do you see any redeeming features in this black farce?” He turned to Theobald and Reginal.
“No father,” said Lord Reginal. “Only Nandor is not blameless in all this. It was their attack that precipitated it, and they also sent soldiers into Sarazan city itself.”
“Hmm. True, but I fear it will avail me little to go crying the wronged man before His Majesty.”
“Do you have some other approach in mind?” asked Lord Reginal.
“No.”
“What should we do with Maldwyn of Nandor?” asked Nicoras.
“Hang on to him this time,” replied the Duke grimly. “That will be all for now.”
Nicoras and Theobald bowed and left the room.
“I would not wish to be in Lord Hercival’s shoes when he faces his father,” said Theobald quietly.
“Nor I,” replied Nicoras.
***
Aron careered down the stairs from his attic, a cold knot of fear in his stomach and crashed into Lionel’s room. “Have you seen Davo and Maldwyn?” he said breathlessly. “Their beds haven’t been slept in. They haven’t been at breakfast and I can’t find them anywhere in the house.”
“I’ve not seen them,” said Lionel with a worried frown. “They’re usually the first to the table. I gave orders that they were not to leave the house unaccompanied. What do the doorkeepers say?”
“Those I’ve spoken to say they haven’t seen them.”
“Then someone is lying.” Lionel stood up, his fists clenched. “They can’t have got out without someone’s help. I’ll ask them again. Have you any idea where they could have gone?”
“No. I haven’t really spent that much time with them recently. I’ve been too busy preparing to face Tirellan.”
“Could Maldwyn have found out where his family are lodging?”
“I don’t see how, since we don’t know. I don’t think he knows they’re in the city. I certainly haven’t told him.” Aron struggled to keep his annoyance under control. “This is all I need. I’ll have to go out and look for them.”
“No. Let me speak to the doorkeepers first. Fools!” Lionel thumped his fist on the table. “You know as well as I do how soldiers can relax if the danger isn’t right in front of them. I’ll double the guard.” He stalked around the room a deep frown on his face. “Maldwyn was asking for new clothes yesterday, and I had a tailor brought in to see to him. I thought you wouldn’t want him sent back to his father in rags. I wonder if there’s a connection? Dammit, they’ve probably been taken up by the watch for brawling in some tavern. I hope Maldwyn’s had the sense to keep quiet about who he is. I don’t want to think about what could happen if Tirellan’s got him.”
“This is my responsibility,” said Aron grimly. “I brought them here. I should find them.”
“No. You need to be close by for when Tirellan sends to Bazarkis for you. That could happen anytime. You can’t do everything; focus on what’s important.”
***
“Tell me something interesting, Cristoff,” Lord Tirellan drawled. “What does the future hold for me?” He lay back on the cushions of his chaise longue and lifted a cup of herbal tea to his lips.
“Well, let us see what the new day brings.” Cristoff opened the pouch containing the morning’s despatches. “The Duke of Westport bids you to attend a performance of a new musical entertainment he has commissioned.”
“Westport, by the Gods! That is unexpected. When is it?”
“Tonight, my Lord.”
“So I’m an afterthought.” Lord Tirellan smiled. “But it shows that I’m creating a stir if he invites me so late. Accept immediately.”
“Very good, my Lord. Will I send to Earl Baldwin asking him also?”
“Oh, I suppose so. I need an ornament on my arm. The child may even enjoy it, though the Gods only know what Baldwin will make of it. He’ll probably nod off and snore like a pig, but I can’t bring the one without the other. Still, I don’t have to endure him for much longer.”
“My Lord?”
“My job is nearly done here and I have succeeded brilliantly. I have prepared the ground so that enough of the nobles of the court will not stand against Caldon when he re-enters. Nor will he have to abase himself overmuch, and after a well-judged period of repentance he will not lack for friends. Then we can take our proper place in society.”
“And what of Lady Celaine?”
“No doubt she will be returning to Nandor shortly when her father’s business here is concluded. I can’t imagine Earl Baldwin developing a taste for life at court, really, can you?” Lord Tirellan smiled sweetly. “And when she is gone I shall miss her slightly, but I’m sure I’ll get over it in a few days. And she can look back fondly on this episode and think of the favour I have done her in introducing her to a level of society she would have otherwise never reached. Have we any news of how Baldwin’s dispute progresses?”
“The Duke of Sarazan was summoned to appear before His Majesty this very morning. He arrived at the palace in a fine temper, I’m told. He is unlikely to be pleased at your involvement, my Lord.”
“I can live with his displeasure. He was never likely to support us anyway. Now that His Majesty has taken the matter in hand resolution will not be far away. I wonder how Baldwin will like the royal judgement?”
“Even he is not stupid enough to dissent, surely?”
“I think it would be dangerous to attempt to set limits on Baldwin’s stupidity,” said Lord Tirellan. “But let us not dwell upon him. In a few short days he will be gone. What other news?”
“The Earl of Dunmore invites you to another evening of cards the day after tomorrow.”
“No doubt he hopes to win back the money I took off him last time, and it would be churlish to refuse.” Lord Tirellan smiled. “Another profitable evening in prospect, Cristoff.”
“Do you wish for an escort for the evening, my Lord?”
“No. I think not. Lady Celaine is charming enough, but I am growing weary of her. Is there anything else?”
“No, my Lord.”
“Then fetch me my writing case. I must write to Caldon to tell him of my triumphs, and, I think, send to Bazarkis. We will entertain his latest offering in two days time.”
“Very good, my Lord.”
“And stand down the guard for that night.”
“Is that wise, my Lord?”
“It depends how many witnesses you want there to be. I prefer none.”
“I was just thinking of last time, my Lord, and the rumours of that Darien assassin.”
“I shall cast my usual warding; it proved most satisfactory didn’t it? There’s no suggestion that he has magical abilities, is there?”
“No, my Lord.”
“Then have a little faith, Cristoff. As long as I live, nothing can get past my pets without my permission. Cease your worrying, and tell me how to establish my temple. How can I draw the faithful to the altar of Galgulla?”
“Answering a few prayers would put you ahead of most gods, my Lord.”
“Heal the sick, raise up the u
nfortunate?”
“For a price. Not too many though, you would not wish to attract too much attention.”
“Certainly not, at least at the beginning. Besides most of the unfortunate richly deserve their fate. I prefer a secret cult for the chosen few.”
“Including His Grace?”
“I think not. My Lord of Caldon believes in nothing beyond his own destiny. His son, however, is a quite a different matter.”
“And he may be High King one day.”
“Indeed, and a glorious day that will be.” He took a sip of herbal tea. “We will need premises, Cristoff. Discreet, of course, but well-appointed.”
“This will not be cheap, my Lord.”
“No, but then immortality seldom is.”
“Immortality?”
“Yes, Cristoff. Such is the gratitude of gods to those who serve them well.”
***
“Is there any news of Maldwyn and Davo?” asked Aron.
“I’ve found who let him them out and they’re already regretting it,” said Lionel, his voice edged with anger. “But no, there’s been no news of them yet, nor is there any hint that Tirellan has them.” His voice softened slightly. “However, we’ve found where Earl Baldwin is lodging. They’re at an inn called The Seven Stars. I’ve sent a couple of men to have a look and find out whether Maldwyn is with them, but I’ve much bigger news….. I’ve heard from Bazarkis. It’s to be the day after tomorrow. Forget about Maldwyn, Tirellan’s the target. Are you ready?”
Aron stood silent for a moment and then nodded. “I have to be,” he said quietly.
“Did you practice again today?”
“Five hours. I don’t believe there’s anything more I can do. Not in the short time we’ve had.”
“Have you got everything that you need?”
Aron smiled and reached into his belt pouch and drew out a slim object which he tossed to Lionel. “This is what I’m going to kill Tirellan with.”
Lionel caught it and turned it over in his hands. It was a short black-handled knife, its blade the length of his index finger. He drew it from the soft leather sheath and tested its edge. “Sharp enough, but how are you going to get it in? Tirellan’s guards are good and you’re certain to be searched.”