As they walked through the camp together, Andelko briefed her. Though not a large company, he selected this one because of the large number of archers they brought with them. “I want to use them to harass Gerolt in the mountains. We could probably hire them all at this point. And, we’re still looking for more marksmen.”
Andelko could be trusted to handle the negotiations himself, but the feeling she still had little to contribute to this war made Leisha short-tempered and fretful. She hated feeling adrift while everyone else continued to find ways to put their talents to work. Zaraki spent hours closeted with the army’s captains, shuffling, organizing and balancing soldiers amongst the different companies. Ilaytan armies were not highly organized, but her darling husband could not countenance disorder.
Spies passed in and out of Aniska’s tent all day and throughout the night. When not in meetings, she hunched over her desk reading whispers of rumors and detailed reports about their enemy. Symon and his clerks managed all the details of supplying the army with food and weapons, horses and tents, and because the books were now tied so closely to military, he preferred to keep them himself. Leisha found herself sitting back and watching others defend her kingdom. Negotiations, though, fell well within her realm of expertise, so she opted to attend this one personally.
Soldiers lifted the tent flap as they approached, and the mercenaries waiting inside knelt. Tahaerin customs differed widely on when commoners were expected to kneel or bow, but these men came from Meszdra, far to the east. She brushed past them all and moved to sit at the large chair at the back of the tent. Zaraki, Andelko, and four guards trailed in behind her. A servant standing to one side announced, “Her Royal Highness, Leisha, Queen of Tahaerin.”
A squat and scarred middle-aged man rose and then bowed formally. “Your Highness. I’m Tomasz.”
“Please be seated, everyone,” Leisha said in the low, soft voice she used when she wanted to disarm her guests and draw them in. Trust me, it said. I’m no threat. Standing behind her chair, Zaraki pitied their guests. That voice usually meant she came looking for a fight.
Tomasz brought four others with him. Three pulled chairs up close to their leader while one remained standing in the back. Perhaps a bodyguard, but no one in a position of leadership, Zaraki thought. Otherwise, like Andelko and the others, he would sit. This one, in his early twenties, looked dangerous and capable.
Nodding at Andelko, the Meszdran introduced two captains and a lieutenant. “Lord Constable, I believe is the correct title here, yes?”
“Welcome to my lands, Tomasz,” Leisha said, drawing his attention back to her and deciding to ignore the lapse in etiquette once. “I’m sure you’re aware of the invaders have come ashore here.”
“Your Highness, we’ve heard, yes. Most unfortunate for you and your people.” He managed to sound sincerely pained at their plight.
“I’ve kept my kingdom at peace for a long time. Now, I’m looking to hire men to help me fight. I need footmen, to be sure, but I’m also looking for marksmen. Can you supply them?”
“Of course, Your Highness,” he said genially, waving his hands about. “I have excellent archers from Spith.” The mercenary smiled at her, thinking she did not know the difference between the two.
Leisha narrowed her eyes at him, not liking this jolly act. “Marksmen, Tomasz,” she repeated. “I’m specifically looking for marksmen. I’m looking for men who can hit a target, not just lob arrows at it from afar.”
“Of course! What sort of numbers are you thinking?” he asked, turning to Andelko.
Her Lord Constable looked uncomfortable as he saw how Tomasz deferred to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Leisha’s frustration mounting. “I suppose it depends on what you can supply. Her Majesty’s spies report your company isn’t overly large, but did say they seem well equipped.”
The little man slapped his knee and laughed, his convivial personality an obvious facade. “You’re well informed, Lord Constable.”
Perhaps this played well in other kingdoms, with other nobles and royals, but here, it made Leisha fume. “What are the terms?” she demanded, and then barked a laugh at the sum he quoted. For that price she could buy an entire new army, officers included. She probably could have replaced Andelko, too. “I’ll hire your entire company for the duration of this conflict. I’ll pay you a bonus on top of a sixth of what you’re asking, once I see a demonstration of your marksman.”
The negotiations continued until, for the third or fourth time, Tomasz turned to Andelko with a counter offer. Leisha stared at him, outrage pouring off her. Everyone in the little tent felt it but, too late, Tomasz realized his mistake. He started to apologize, but she cut him off.
“Listen to me, swop-sword,” Leisha barked in a hard voice, surprising the visitors. “You’ll address me or I’ll have my Ostravan assassin cut your heart out and feed it to you.”
Behind her, Zaraki grinned and pulled up the sleeve on his left arm to bare the circle and bar brand on his wrist.
Shifting in his seat, Tomasz swallowed and cleared his throat. The Ostravan brand marked Edik’s spies for life and made them easily recognizable. “Yes, forgive me, Your Highness. I’m not used to dealing with—” he searched for the right words before giving up and apologizing again.
Zaraki pitied the man and marveled at his devious wife, as he watched her manipulate Tomasz in order get them a better price. He thought back to when she hired him, glad he did not have to negotiate then.
When the Meszdran finally agreed to terms, Tomasz looked puzzled and not entirely happy. Somehow, even though he could find work anywhere, and the Tahaerin queen clearly needed him, she was paying him far less than he would normally command. Stranger still, he accepted her offer because he felt bad for the way he treated her.
***
“Do you feel better now that you got to yell at someone?” Zaraki asked, grinning as they made their way back to their own tent. Walking in the warm afternoon sun, he thought Leisha looked relaxed.
His lovely wife blushed and laughed. “Yes, I do. And he deserved it.”
With dinner several hours away still, he had time to look over some of the work Symon had laid out for him. Over a hundred peasants had arrived in the past few weeks, which meant he needed to rebalance some of the companies.
“I can’t wait to tell Aniska I got promoted to assassin,” Zaraki said as they stepped into their tent. Passing through the tapestry dividing the pavilion in two, he started stripping off his leathers. “She’ll be so jealous.”
“Wait,” he heard Leisha say behind him. When he turned, she looked him up and down with hungry eyes. “Leave them on for now,” she commanded. Then picking up her skirts, she said, “But help me out of this.”
***
Eamon found walking unnoticed out of the mercenary camp the next morning a simple matter. As well as they paid, and they did pay him well, he knew an interesting opportunity when one presented itself. Listening to the Tahaerin queen speak about her Ostravan assassin, he knew any job she sent him on would be infinitely more interesting than the work he had done for the last half a year. Luckily, he signed no contract with Tomasz and could come and go as he pleased.
Getting into the Tahaerin camp proved a bit more work. Eamon spent most of the morning trying to convince the guards to let him speak to whoever made hiring decisions. It did not surprise him when they refused to let him meet with anyone, and he barely listened to the soldier barring his way. Instead, he observed the camp in detail while arguing with half an ear.
Eamon saw guards patrolling at irregular intervals and down random-seeming paths. He recognized the pattern as a modified Ostravan one but had a hard time predicting exactly when and where the next set of guards would appear. When he took his eyes off the soldier in front of him and peered into the middle of camp, he could not immediately pick out which tent belonged to the king and queen. Finally, he apologized to the soldier for wasting his time and walked away.
&nbs
p; The rest of the day, he insinuated himself around the edges of the encampment, appearing near the horses, around the latrine pits. Tomorrow, people would likely remember seeing him around and most would believe he belonged there.
The next morning, Eamon made his way back to the Tahaerin camp. Walking through the picket lines, he saw the man who accompanied the queen at their meeting, the one she mentioned being Ostravan. The sandy-haired man walked over to a large black gelding and offered him slices of apple before running a hand over the lovely, sleek neck of the beast.
Eamon watched the man leaning against the horse, murmuring to him and scratching behind his ears as the animal munched happily at his treat. He decided to seize the moment. “Sir? Can I speak with you?”
“What can I do for you?” Zaraki looked up and saw a nondescript young man with auburn hair and plain features standing nearby. Instantly, he recognized him as Tomasz’s mercenary, the one who stood at the back of the tent yesterday. His hand strayed near the stiletto he carried around camp still.
Holding up both hands to show he held no weapons, Eamon said, “Sir, I saw you with the queen and heard her say you were Ostravan. Is it true?” His eyes darted down, looking for the brand that matched his own.
“I am, yes, and you are as well, I’m guessing? I don’t remember you, but it’s been a while since I’ve been back.” Zaraki watched the young man closely, suspicious and wary of any Ostravan trespassing in his territory, this close to his wife.
“I am, sir, yes. My name is Eamon, and if my guess is right, you’re also the king?”
“I’m easy to pick out amongst the sea of black-haired Tahaerins, aren’t I?”
Shifting effortlessly into more formal speech, Eamon said, “Sire, I’ve completed my first contract. I’m free now to pursue another, and I’m wondering if there might be any interest in taking me on?”
Zaraki considered for a moment, tempted to dismiss the young man. After being driven from Ostrava by his foster father, pursued across the continent and then nearly murdered by a fellow spy, he mistrusted those from his former home. It seemed unlikely an assassin would march up and ask for a job, but he knew someone who could find out for sure. First, though, they would visit Ani. “I’m no longer the queen’s spymaster, so we’ll have to speak with Aniska.”
“Aniska? The other traitor?” Eamon could not keep the surprise from his voice. He knew she worked here, but had not heard yet of her promotion. His information about this westernmost kingdom was out of date.
“We were never traitors,” Zaraki said, amused to hear himself referred to that way. “That’s the lie Cezar spread to try to justify ordering our deaths.”
“Forgive me, Sire.” Eamon paled as he said the words. “I’ve been away and south in Meszdra for a long while. I didn’t do my research before coming to you,” he stammered, embarrassed to be so clumsy and to make such a poor first impression.
Taking pity, Zaraki laughed and waved a hand. Despite his misgivings, he thought he might like this earnest boy. “Please, it’s fine. Really. If you have to call me something, ‘sir’ is good enough. Please no bowing, either. I’m still embarrassed by that. Come with me and we’ll go find Aniska. She can decide if we’re hiring or not.”
As they walked through camp, Eamon wondered about the wisdom of this decision. He grew up hearing about Zaraki’s treachery and how the king broke his oaths to marry a queen. Cezar only spoke of Aniska’s crimes in the vaguest of terms, but Father said they both killed a fellow spy named Crain as they fled Ostrava.
A thought occurred to Eamon. “Sir? Is Fellnin here as well?” Father often spoke of the other student who disappeared after following Zaraki to Tahaerin.
The other man shook his head. “Fellnin is dead. The queen killed him herself as I watched. I probably should tell Cezar so he can blame me for that death as well.”
Eamon lapsed into silence, wondering what he had stumbled into.
***
Sitting cross-legged at a table in the back of a large tent, they found a small, red-headed woman going through a stack of papers. She looked up at the sound of their footsteps and unwound her legs to stand up. Dressed in trousers and a shirt with a short coat thrown over it, she kept her hair in a braid running down her back. Inclining her head, she said, “Your Highness.”
Zaraki waved his hand. “He’s one of us, Ani. This is Eamon.”
When he went to bow, Aniska’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. He stood still as she pushed the sleeve of his coat up and ran her fingers over the brand, inspecting it closely. “All right, you’re one of us. What are you doing here?” Her words sounded a challenge. Territorial by their nature, Ostravans guarded their domains jealously. This was her kingdom, her job, and her queen. She would not welcome interlopers.
“He’s looking for work,” Zaraki explained, curious to see Aniska’s hackles raised like this. He had his doubts about any Ostravan who stooped to working as a soldier of fortune, but Ani chose their spies now, not him, and he would defer to her.
Her demeanor changed perceptibly. “Work?” She looked at one and then the other. “I thought you were employed by our new mercenary friends?”
“Spymaster, they pay me, but I have no contract with them.”
“You’ve completed your first?” Ani watched him closely, still not sure about this young man. On one hand, it seemed unlikely Cezar would send someone to kill them after eight years. On the other hand, it was exactly the sort of thing she herself would do.
“Yes, Spymaster, I have. Two years and released.” He would not tell them anything more because it would violate his oath to secrecy. But they knew that, of course.
“And he’s heard of us. We’re infamous, it seems,” Zaraki said, seeming to relish the idea. “Father tells stories about us to scare the little ones. He called you a traitor.”
Stopping to consider, Aniska came to a decision. “I need Her Majesty to give her approval for this, I think. Let’s go and see if she’s still meeting with the Lord Constable this morning.”
Together they threaded their way through a maze of tents and campfires. At first blush, it looked like any other army encampment, but Eamon caught sight of suspicious, watchful men everywhere. They were not soldiers and did not attempt to disguise themselves. One raised his hand in greeting.
Aniska returned the gesture and said to Eamon, “My job isn’t just to manage our spies. We act as bodyguards for the queen and king when he lets us. I know you’re trained to kill, but make sure you’re prepared to do so if called upon, because I’ll certainly expect it of you.”
“Kill to save yourself. Kill to save your employer,” Eamon recited. All three Ostravans had mouthed those words morning after morning in Cezar’s training rooms.
Two guards stood outside another nondescript pavilion and they lifted the flaps as they approached. Inside, Eamon saw the lovely queen bent over a table covered in a large map. She brightened when she saw them come in, and he saw how her dark eyes settled on her husband before shifting to take his measure.
Her laughter filled the tent when Aniska told her the purpose of the visit. “Another one?”
“Indeed,” Ani said, grinning. “Eamon swears he’s free to accept a new contract.”
“That’s correct, Your Highness.”
“And you’re not here at the behest of anyone else?” Though she kept her tone light, Eamon heard a subtle shift and recognized it as a mind reader waiting to sift through his thoughts when he answered. His father did the same when he thought he was lying. So that rumor was true as well.
“None but my own, Your Grace.” He answered truthfully, knowing she would find nothing suspicious there, but still hoping he passed this test.
“To be more specific,” Aniska said, “did Edik or Cezar send you to kill one or both of us? Or any of us, for that matter.”
The young man shook his head. “No, I swear if you do employ me, I haven’t been asked or commanded to compromise any of my oaths. I’m free to take any c
ontract I choose.”
“Welcome to my little family, Eamon,” Leisha said, satisfied with his answers. “I promise I’m not trying to collect Ostravans. You all just keep showing up on my doorstep.”
She favored him with a disarming smile, and Eamon suddenly understood how the king could have been enticed to betray his oaths. Her words, her voice, her smile drew him to her. Regardless of the circumstances that brought the other Ostravans here, Eamon was pleased with his decision.
“Thank you, Your Majesty. I’m very excited by the opportunity.”
They discussed terms and agreed on payment which exceeded what the Meszdrans had paid him.
With the negotiations concluded, Leisha turned him back to Aniska. “Can you please help our new friend get settled? And please make sure he’s invited to some of our evening meetings so he can get to know us.”
Together they walked through camp as Aniska began briefing him. “Eamon, you need to know this job, this court and this queen are unlike anything you’ve been trained for. It’s a strange place and you may not find it to your liking,” she said, thinking of all the faces she had seen come and go, people who could not adjust to Leisha. “You’re smart not to sign a contract yet. But if you do end up staying, she’ll reward your service in ways you cannot imagine.”
Hunting
Though he had only been with them for two weeks, Eamon found himself attending another evening meeting with Leisha’s inner circle. Standing in the back, he watched them all, remembering the spymaster’s warning. Tonight, she had told him to observe and get a feel for dynamics of the group. Understanding a new employer was always the first order of business. “A trial by fire,” she called it.
“And where are we today, Andelko?” Leisha began once everyone set aside their plates and settled back into their seats.
“Two things,” the Lord Constable began. “First, I’m ready to promote two marshals. The army isn’t huge yet, but it will be and I’d rather not wait until things get out of hand. Plus, it will take some of the load off me and the rest of you.”
As Dragons from Sleep (The Tahaerin Chronicles Book 2) Page 13