Swordmage botm-1

by Richard Baker

  A chorus of whispers broke out among the spectators behind him, but Sergen paid them no mind. Kara stared at him suspiciously but said nothing, and Sergen could feel the harmach shift in his seat a few feet behind his right shoulder. Across the table, Lord Marstel bowed toward him. “Bravo!” he declared.

  “Moreover,” Sergen continued, “I’ll relay my dear sister’s request for additional troops to the Double Moon Coster, House Sokol, and the Jannarsk Coster. I cannot speak for them, of course, but I am confident that they can contribute two hundred more armsmen among them.” He glanced at Darsi Veruna, smiled slightly, and sat down again.

  Lady Veruna made a small face and motioned with her hand. “A hundred and twenty more from House Veruna,” she said calmly. “I am afraid I must reserve some of our strength to protect our camps in the Galena foothills.”

  Kara nodded graciously to the mistress of House Veruna. “My thanks, Lady Darsi,” she said.

  The harmach spoke next. “Kara, by my count, that puts you at close to nine hundred warriors, not counting the militia. Do you think you can meet the Bloody Skulls with those numbers?”

  The castellan fell silent and considered her answer. “I think so,” she finally said. “If Hulburg had a city wall I would be inclined to simply defend the city, but since we don’t, I want to meet the Bloody Skulls as far from town as possible and still gain some advantage of terrain. The watchtowers at the north end of the Vale offer our best position. There aren’t many good paths to bring an army down from the Highfells to the Vale floor. But that means we must move at once to get as many warriors as possible to the towers by tonight or tomorrow morning.” She paused, examining her own thoughts again, and added, “The show of a strong defense may be enough to deter the Bloody Skulls-or the tribes allied to them. Neither the Red Claws nor the Skullsmashers will be eager to die for Warlord Mhurren. I’d guess he promised them plunder, so it’s possible that he’ll give up and look for some easier target once he sees that we’re ready for him. As far as I know, we’ve delivered no mortal insult or wronged him in some manner that he would feel compelled to avenge.”

  That might prove important, Sergen realized. He glanced at Darsi Veruna and found her looking at him. He’d delivered exactly such an insult in the process of making sure that the Bloody Skulls supplied Hulburg with the threat he needed. Well, if matters took an unexpected turn, and he found that he needed to throw up a breakwater against the horde he’d baited to attack the harmach, he still had one more piece he could move on the board-Aesperus. Sergen thought he knew the price of the King in Copper, and he doubted that the lich’s minions would care much about being outnumbered by the Bloody Skulls and their allies.

  That raised the interesting question of whether he’d rather see the battle won or lost. A complete debacle would not be good; he was reasonably sure of Aesperus’s aid, but he’d rather approach the lich with a request for a moderate amount of aid rather than beg the lich to spare Hulburg from disaster. No, the best outcome would be a hard-fought victory in which the Bloody Skulls were turned back without the aid of the King in Copper… especially if the armsmen of the other merchant companies suffered heavily in the fighting.

  “It seems that time is of the essence,” the harmach said. He stood up slowly, and the other lords and officers got to their feet as well. Sergen rose smoothly and waited for his uncle to finish. “Kara, prepare the Shieldsworn for departure as quickly as you can. Those of you who have promised your armsmen, you must have your troops ready to march within hours. Only by concerted effort will we be able to avert this new and deadly threat. Now, go! And may the gods look kindly upon our defense.”

  The assemblage broke up and dispersed, with a dozen conversations beginning at once as the various lords and officials began to make their way out of the hall. Sergen shifted the position of the rapier at his hip and turned to go as well.

  “One moment, Sergen.” The harmach limped closer, leaning on his heavy walking stick. “I wish to have a word with you.”

  There was little that Sergen cared to discuss with his uncle at the moment, but he was standing in Griffonwatch, and there were still dozens of onlookers in the hall. He nodded and gave his stepuncle a conciliatory smile. “I have much to do if I am to persuade the other merchant companies to dispatch their soldiers with Kara,” he said. “But if it’s important to speak now, then I am at your disposal, Uncle Grigor.”

  “I will not detain you for long, Sergen. Before you leave, we must settle this question of Geran’s imprisonment by the Merchant Council.”

  “I fear that’s not a question we can quickly settle. It’s a complicated issue.”

  “I fail to see why it is so complicated, Sergen. I’ve examined the law carefully, and I see no basis under which the Merchant Council can hold or try someone whose offense occurs outside the strict physical boundaries of the concessions. Is there some dispute over where exactly Geran and Captain Urdinger fought? If there isn’t, then it’s a matter for the harmach’s justice, not the council.”

  Sergen grimaced and lowered his voice, moving closer to his uncle. He’d been expecting this for a day or two and knew how he wanted to respond. “I have much the same understanding, Uncle. But the Verunas are frankly beyond all reason at this point. They’re threatening dire repercussions if their calls for justice are ignored.”

  Harmach Grigor frowned. “Dire repercussions? What do you mean?”

  “I’m not sure, but I believe Lady Darsi may go so far as to completely vacate Veruna’s interests in Hulburg and then use her influence in Mulmaster to have the High Blade embargo all trade bound to Hulburg. I hardly need to describe what a disaster that would be. Mulmaster accounts for almost half our trade. We would be ruined within a month.” Sergen spread his hands helplessly. “As long as a threat such as that is hanging over our heads, I didn’t dare to defy her.”

  The old lord grimaced and shot a dark look at Darsi Veruna, who was leaving the hall with her attendants and guards around her. She glided out the door with her valets hurrying to drape a stole around her neck, oblivious to the conversation at the foot of the harmach’s seat. “Darsi Veruna doesn’t have the right to tell us who to try and under what laws,” Grigor said firmly. “This is a matter for Hulburg’s justice, not her personal vendetta against Geran.”

  “Well, that’s the problem. She believes that Geran will escape justice for his crimes because he is your nephew. Frankly, she doubts whether Geran would ever be brought to trial.”

  “I have never allowed any member of the family to ignore our laws.”

  “Until she sees Geran convicted and punished in some suitable manner, I am afraid she won’t believe that, Uncle.”

  Grigor looked sharply at Sergen. “I won’t allow Geran to commit crimes and go unpunished, Sergen, but neither will I convict and punish him if he’s innocent of wrongdoing-regardless of what Darsi Veruna may think. If Geran is fairly acquitted, he will go free. If not, he’ll pay the same price any criminal would. And to make sure that there is no appearance of favoritism, I’ll delegate the harmach’s decision to High Magistrate Nimstar. But this is not a matter for the Merchant Council, Sergen.”

  “House Veruna won’t be pleased by that.” Sergen tapped his finger on his chin, affecting a moment of serious thought. “What about this? Imprison Geran here in Griffonwatch and charge him under the harmach’s law as is right and proper, but appoint the Council Watch to guard him? As long as Darsi Veruna is reassured that Geran is indeed confined and that charges will be read against him, she may relent on her insistence that the council must hold him. I believe I can persuade her to accept that.”

  The harmach stood in silence for a long moment, and then he nodded. “Very well. I’ll send someone to make arrangements with the council. But Sergen-regardless of whether Darsi Veruna agrees or not, Geran will be removed from Council Hall.”

  “That might be-”

  Grigor slashed his hand across his chest. “If Veruna wants to invite me to confi
scate their property and re-let their leases to other merchant costers, then I’ll gladly do so.” The harmach turned and stomped away as best he could, striking his stick forcefully to the floor with each stride.

  Sergen watched him retreat, mildly impressed. He wouldn’t have suspected that the old man had a glint of fire in him. Why, the harmach was positively reckless! It was not like Grigor to let anger get the better of him.

  He gathered his guards to him with an absent motion of his hand and left the harmach’s hall to climb back into his coach. In a few moments the coach rolled back down the castle’s causeway and started through the streets as Sergen carefully thought through what needed to happen in the next few days. He decided he was committed to his decisions and spent the rest of the ride to Council Hall presenting himself with hypothetical misfortunes and determining his response to each.

  The coach rocked to a stop, and his footman opened the door. Sergen climbed out and said, “Remain ready. I’ll be leaving again in a quarter-hour. And tell the watch captain to ask Captain Icehammer to join me in my chambers immediately.”

  “Of course, Lord Keeper,” the man answered. But Sergen had already passed him by, bounding up the steps to Council Hall. He swept into the room that served as his office and found that his clerks had left him several letters and contracts to approve. None were particularly urgent, but he examined them simply to occupy himself while he waited for the mercenary captain.

  He didn’t have to wait long. Before he’d finished looking over the third letter, Kendurkkel Ironthane knocked on the door and entered. The dwarf tromped in, took a seat in a chair by the hearth, and commenced to tap out the ashes from his pipe. “You sent for me, Lord Sergen?” he asked.

  “I did,” Sergen answered. “I assume that you’ve heard rumors about the orc horde marching on Hulburg?”

  The dwarf laughed harshly. “It’s no’ far from the minds o’ many folk this morning. No one talks ’bout anything else.”

  “I’ve told the harmach that I’ve retained the services of the Icehammers. I want you to march with the Shieldsworn and help to defend Hulburg from the Bloody Skulls. I believe that contingency is already covered under our existing arrangements.”

  “I expected so much,” Kendurkkel said. “However, I’ll be remindin’ you that a share o’ the plunder from the field o’ battle belongs to me company.”

  “Of course. You should prepare to march immediately, Captain-the Shieldsworn hope to defend the watchtowers at the north end of the vale, and my dear sister Kara intends to move her forces there by tomorrow morning.”

  “Am I answerin’ to her orders?”

  Sergen thought about that for a moment. “Unless Kara’s orders are clearly inept or otherwise unacceptable, yes,” he said. “Do your best to do as she asks, and give her the benefit of your experience and counsel. I’m sending you to make sure that the Bloody Skulls are stopped before they reach Hulburg, and I want you to do what you think is needful to accomplish that goal.”

  The dwarf nodded. “All right. If there’s nothing else you’re needin’, then, I’ve got a lot t’ do in the next few hours.”

  “There’s one more thing,” Sergen said. “I’ll need about thirty of your men-most of them humans-for a special assignment here in Hulburg, a very sensitive assignment. I’ll need them to be waiting at the Dareth storehouse on East Street by noon on the tenth. It would be best if they arrived in small groups, scattered over the morning, and didn’t wear any identifying colors or insignia.”

  The dwarf chewed on his pipestem and eyed Sergen thoughtfully. “Will me lads be livin’ through your special assignment?”

  “Yes, in fact, it’s important that they do. But I’m afraid they will have to leave town immediately afterward. I plan to have a ship ready to leave at first light for that purpose.”

  “All right. I’ll give ’em orders t’ make their way back to Thentia or Melvaunt after you’re done with them.” Kendurkkel leaned forward and took his pipe from his mouth, pointing the stem at Sergen. “Now, just so we see eye t’ eye, m’lord: Exceptional missions an’ arrangements o’ that sort demand an exceptional bonus. I need t’ know what you’ve got in mind for me lads.”

  Sergen bowed his head in acquiescence and spread his hands. “Well, Master Kendurkkel, it seems that House Veruna is going to do something terrible three nights from now. Your men are going to make sure that everyone knows who was responsible.” After all, he added to himself, he wouldn’t want to become harmach while he was so deeply indebted to Darsi Veruna.

  TWENTY-TWO

  9 Tarsakh, the Year of the Ageless One

  The Council Watch soldiers removed Geran from his cell during the dark hour before sunrise. At first he feared that he was to be driven out to some lonely spot in the Highfells and killed, but to his surprise the council men took him to Griffonwatch. They drove the prison wagon up the causeway and through the gatehouse, stopping by the Shieldsworn barracks. A moment later the heavy chains securing the wagon’s door rattled, and the two guards riding in the back with Geran rose and helped him to the door.

  When he clambered out of the wagon’s dim interior, Geran found Hamil and Sergeant Kolton of the Shieldsworn waiting for him with five more council guards. “There you are, Geran,” Hamil said. “Are you hurt at all?”

  “Nothing important, though I’ve got a broken tooth I hope to have mended. What’s going on here? Am I to be released?”

  “Not yet,” the halfling answered. “The harmach struck a deal with the Merchant Council. I think that he’s agreed that you’ll face charges under Hulburg’s law. In exchange the council’s agreed to allow you to be held here in Griffonwatch until a trial can be arranged. But they’ll have a detachment of their own watch to stand guard, just to make sure that the harmach doesn’t release you.”

  Geran grimaced. It was undoubtedly better to be held in Griffonwatch, simply because he wouldn’t have to fear being murdered in his cell or otherwise made to disappear. And he likely had little to fear from a trial under Hulburg’s laws. But the harmach must have staked his own honor on Geran’s good behavior, so he’d have to endure his incarceration a little longer. “When will my case be decided?”

  Sergeant Kolton frowned. “That’s hard to say, Lord Geran. The Bloody Skulls’ve got everything in an uproar.”

  “The Bloody Skulls? Did their messengers return?”

  Kolton shook his head. “No, they all did. I suppose you ain’t heard”-the sergeant shot the Council Watch soldiers a hard look-“but there’s a bloody great orc horde on its way. Lady Kara’s taken almost all the Shieldsworn up to the northerly watchtowers, and three-quarters o’ the merchant company armsmen too. She left me in command o’ the garrison, can you believe that? Anyway, Lady Kara expects to meet the Bloody Skulls within a day, maybe two.”

  Geran felt the weight of the chains on his wrists. As far as he knew he had no great talent for leading armies, but he’d fought as a captain leading a company of the Coronal’s Guard in Myth Drannor, and he wasn’t afraid to cross blades with any orc. If Kolton was right, then Hulburg faced the most immediate peril it had seen during his entire life, and he’d watch it pass by through the bars of a cell. “Tell the harmach that I can help,” he said to Kolton. “If he paroles me to fight, I’ll gladly go back to my cell for as long as I have to once the danger’s passed.”

  “The prisoner won’t be set free without the express order of the council,” one of the Watch soldiers said firmly. “The harmach’s got to take it up with Lord Sergen.”

  “I know it,” Kolton snapped. He looked back to Geran and motioned toward the doorway leading into the castle. “Well, I suppose I’d better show you to your accommodations, Lord Geran.”

  “They’ve given you the best cell in the castle-for what it’s worth,” added Hamil.

  The Shieldsworn sergeant led Geran and his Council Watch jailors through the barracks building and into a passageway cut through the rock of the castle’s hilltop. They climbed up a f
light of stairs and passed by several storerooms and connecting passageways that led to the castle’s deep cisterns then climbed a few more steps to a row of iron-bound doors of thick wood. Kolton opened the nearest with a set of heavy keys. It was not a very big room, but it had a small square window that looked out over the city to the distant gray line of the Moonsea, a bed, a table and two chairs, a small carpet laid out on the flagstone floor, and even a shelf lined with a dozen books. “We took the liberty o’ furnishing your cell a little more comfortably than we normally would,” Kolton said. “But I’m afraid it’s still a cell. I’ll send a healer to look after your injuries as soon as possible.”

  “Thank you, Kolton,” Geran said quietly.

  “Lord Sergen won’t like this,” the council sergeant said. “He said nothing about providing the prisoner with such comforts.”

  “In that case, he didn’t say we couldn’t,” Hamil pointed out. “I heard about that fine room you gave him underneath your Council Hall. Maybe the Shieldsworn should give you beds just as comfortable as the one you gave Geran. After all, nothing requires the harmach to give your men any particular comforts, either.”

  The council sergeant chose not to argue the point any further-a wise decision, in Geran’s view. Kolton suppressed a smile and motioned to his council counterpart. “Post a couple o’ men by the door if you like, and I’ll show the rest o’ you to your guardroom and quarters.”

  “Very well,” the sergeant said. He detailed off two of his men, who took up positions on each side of Geran’s doorway.

  Kolton looked back to Geran and said, “I’m sorry, Lord Geran, but I’ll have to leave the mage shackles on you.”

  The swordmage grimaced. His wrists were more than a little sore and bruised, and he wanted the damned manacles off his hands. As long as Harmach Grigor had given his word that he’d make no attempt to escape, Geran wouldn’t use his magic. But at least the cell looked like a substantial improvement on the old one. “It’s not your fault, Kolton,” he said.