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The Wolf At War

Page 21

by Terry Cloutier


  “I always prayed we would never have to cross swords with that bastard,” Jebido said as I jumped down to the walkway. “I guess The Mother wasn’t listening.”

  I shrugged, looking away to hide my face. Seeing Einhard had greatly affected me, and I didn’t want those around me to know just how much. “He bleeds like any other man,” I grunted as I moved away to an unoccupied part of the parapet. I stared east, alone with my thoughts. I felt a lump rising in my throat, and I put my hands on the solidness of the wall and leaned on it, feeling the coarseness of the stone beneath my fingers. Einhard might be coming over this very wall soon, I knew, and if he did, I swore that I would do everything in my power to stop him, even if it meant killing him.

  An hour went by as the Pith army that stretched like a winding snake along the river crossed the bridge three abreast. The eastern fields were alive with noise as newly arriving warriors joined those already encamped. Finally, the last of the Pith supply wagons bringing up the rear rattled over the bridge, followed by a rearguard of two hundred Piths.

  “Care for some company?” Fitz asked as he wandered over to me. I shrugged as the young lord rested his shoulder against the wall beside me and crossed his arms. “I take it this Einhard fellow means a lot to you?”

  “He did once,” I said, not taking my eyes off the Pith camp. Lorgen had erected a wooden palisade around his encampment weeks ago in case we tried a sortie, but it was much too small to house all the new arrivals. Einhard’s men were busily setting up a second, bigger camp near the river where the Ascension Ceremony had taken place. I could see Einhard’s tent sitting back near the forest as warriors chopped more trees for a second palisade. Fitz gestured behind him. “Baine and Jebido think he’ll let you go.”

  I turned in surprise. “Do they, now?” I said. “And why would Einhard do that?”

  Fitz shrugged. “How should I know? He’s your friend, not mine.”

  “He was my friend,” I corrected. “A lot has changed since those days.”

  “Maybe they have, and maybe they haven’t,” Fitz replied. He nodded toward the east. “Either way, I guess we are about to find out.”

  Einhard was approaching on a shimmering black horse with a parlay branch held in his hand. Another group of mounted Piths followed fifty yards behind him. I could see Lorgen Three-Fingers and his son amongst them, as well as the chieftain’s four Blood Guards.

  Several overeager archers on the walls started to draw back their bows. “Don’t shoot!” I shouted, raising my hands. “Put your bows down.”

  I watched as Einhard slowly made his way toward us, finally pausing his horse on the ramp before the moat. Lorgen Three-Fingers and his men stayed well back as Einhard removed his helmet and balanced it on his saddle horn before grinning up at me. Despite the situation, I found myself grinning back. The Sword’s hair was still long and blond, though I thought I could see grey tinges here and there, with more grey showing in his beard. He wore a brown leather patch over his right eye. A thick scar ran from his hairline, disappearing beneath the patch before continuing along his nose and down the side of his mouth.

  “You’re not nearly as handsome as you used to be,” I called down to him.

  Einhard laughed—a deep, genuine sound of pleasure that erupted from somewhere in his belly. “That’s rich coming from you, puppy.”

  I smiled, both of us silent as we stared at each other, enjoying the moment. Finally, Einhard sighed as he examined the solid walls of the garrison. “Things have changed since the last time I saw this place.” I nodded, not saying anything. Einhard gestured with a thumb over his shoulder at Lorgen Three-Fingers. “You certainly have a way of bringing out the worst in people, Hadrack.”

  “I learned that from you,” I replied with a laugh.

  Einhard chuckled and nodded. “That you did. That you did indeed.” He shifted in his saddle. “So, it seems we have a problem.”

  “And what would that be?” I asked in mock surprise.

  Einhard’s smile faded. “I warned you years ago that we were going to destroy Ganderland and your false gods. Do you remember that, Hadrack?”

  “I do,” I called down. “But you failed. Do you remember that?”

  Einhard’s face tightened as Jebido gave me a warning look. I ignored him.

  “Did you open the gates and betray my brothers and sisters?” Einhard asked me bluntly. His voice was hard and dangerous now, with a hint of tension in his words.

  “If you need to ask that, brother, then you don’t know me at all.”

  Einhard stroked his beard as he looked up at me. “I want to believe you didn’t do it,” he finally said. “You once told me honor defines a man, Hadrack, and that it makes you stronger, not weaker. So swear to me now, on that same honor of which you are so proud, that you did not betray my people.”

  “I swear I did not,” I said firmly. “They were my people too, Einhard, and I would have slit my own throat rather than cause any of them harm.”

  Einhard took a deep breath, and I saw his shoulders relax. “Very well,” he said, his voice losing some of its edge. “I believe you, Hadrack.”

  The king came to stand beside me then, and before I could stop him, he pointed a mailed finger down at Einhard through the embrasure. “Get off my lands, you heathen!” he shouted. “Take your rabble and ride back to the cesspool you crawled out of, or I swear by The Mother Herself, every last one of you will die in these fields.”

  “Highness, please,” I said urgently. “This is not a man who reacts well to threats.”

  “And who would this talking turd be then, Hadrack?” Einhard asked, a smile on his lips. I groaned. I recognized that dangerous-looking smile, having seen it many times before.

  “I am the King of Ganderland, you filthy heathen!” Tyden spat back, anger on his face now. “So watch what you say to me.”

  “Or what?” Einhard asked, looking amused. “Will you climb down from your walls to defend your wounded pride if I call you turd-sucker next, or arse-licker, or maybe even goat-humper?”

  Tyden’s eyes went dark with rage, and he opened his mouth to answer as I put my hand on his arm. “Please, Highness,” I implored him. “Say nothing more.”

  “I’m not afraid of that bastard,” Tyden hissed, glaring at me. “Is that what you think? That I am afraid?”

  “No one doubts your bravery, Highness,” I said. “But that man down there is no ordinary warrior. I promise you, if you try to fight him, you will die.”

  “You think me so easily beaten, Lord Hadrack?” Tyden demanded, bristling with indignation.

  “No, Highness,” I said, shaking my head. “Not against most men. But Einhard is not most men.” Tyden stared at me defiantly, stubbornness burning in his eyes. I had to change his mind now, I knew, before it was too late and he challenged Einhard to a duel. “Look around you, Highness,” I said, sweeping my hand around the battlements where our men waited and listened. “Every one of these men here risked everything to rescue you from the Piths. They could have run to save their own lives, Highness, but they chose to save yours instead. And now, after all that, you want to sacrifice that life over a few stupid words that mean nothing?” I snorted and shook my head. “That’s not what true leaders do, Highness,” I said. “That is what selfish people do who care only for themselves.”

  “You go too far, Lord Hadrack,” Tyden growled.

  I shrugged. “When you made me the Lord of Corwick, Highness, I gave you my oath of fealty, which included protecting you with my life. That is what I am doing right now and what I will continue to do until my last breath. I should have been more vocal about my doubts when we first learned the Piths were here, but instead, I held my tongue. I won’t do that again, Highness. So, you can punish me for my words if you must, even have me killed, but I am not sorry for telling you the truth.”

  Tyden pressed his lips together as he studied me. I could see the anger slowly fading from his eyes, and finally, he took a deep breath. “You are an ins
olent man, Lord Hadrack,” he said, clamping me on the shoulder. “But sometimes even a king needs to hear honest words that he’d rather not acknowledge.” Tyden motioned to the wall. “Continue your talk with the heathen. I will do my best to contain myself, should the bastard choose to insult me again.”

  I nodded, relieved as I looked over the wall again.

  “Ah,” Einhard said when he saw me. “There you are, Hadrack. Did your foppish king faint away, or has he gone and hidden himself in the keep under his bedclothes?”

  I glanced at Tyden, but other than twin circles of red burning high along his cheeks, he seemed in control of himself. “What do you want, Einhard?” I demanded.

  “Why, isn’t it obvious?” Einhard asked, spreading his arms. “I want you to surrender.”

  “You know we won’t do that,” I said. “So why bother asking?”

  “Of course you won’t,” Einhard replied in an agreeable tone. “I would have been disappointed in you if you had. I should mention though, since we are both being so honest with each other, that I ran into a sizable force of Ganders less than a day’s march from here.” He shrugged apologetically. “I’m sorry to say there will be no rescue coming from them, in case that’s what you were counting on.” I just stared down at Einhard, not letting him see the dismay on my face. The Sword waited, then when I said nothing, he looked behind him at Lorgen Three-Fingers before focusing back on me. “This is not what I want, you know, old friend,” he said in a lower voice.

  I nodded—I did know. “I hear Alesia is queen now,” I said, still reeling from the news that our reinforcements had been destroyed.

  Einhard sat back in surprise, then he grinned. “She is, and she has been a fine queen. Alesia wanted to come and join in the fun, but she is heavy with child.”

  “Again?” I said, remembering the last time that I had seen Alesia. She had been pregnant then, too, and had seemed to grow even more beautiful every day of her pregnancy. “I understand you already have a son,” I added. “And that he is strong and fit.”

  Einhard beamed at the mention of his son. “He is all that and more, Hadrack. His name is Einrack, and the seers have promised me that he will grow up to be a great and mighty king.” I paused, not trusting my voice to speak, overwhelmed by the name that Einhard and Alesia had given to their first-born son. Finally, I cleared my throat. “You are the Sword of the Queen and her husband,” I said. “Which means you can speak with her voice.” I waved a hand toward the Pith camp. “One word from you and this all goes away.”

  “It is not that simple, Hadrack,” Einhard said. “Lorgen Three-Fingers has sworn a blood-oath against you, and not even the word of the queen can reverse it.”

  “Then ride away with your men and let us deal with the Amenti on our own,” I suggested.

  Einhard shook his head. “I can’t do that, Hadrack. The Pathfinders have read the blood-message of your people, and that message says that Gasterny must be returned to us.”

  I grimaced, certain that he was speaking of the captured Sons and Daughters. “So, you intend to help that bastard, then,” I said, motioning to Lorgen Three-Fingers.

  Einhard nodded as he swung his horse around. “A blood-oath like theirs is no small thing, Hadrack, as you of all people must know. It cannot be taken lightly. As long it remains, I must support them. Tomorrow morning we will come in force, and I promise you we will take Gasterny back.” He paused his horse to look at me, his one eye seeming to glow as it bored into mine. “Unless, of course, the blood-oath has somehow been fulfilled by then.” Einhard held my eyes for a moment longer, then he turned and joined Lorgen Three-Fingers, leaving me to stand in puzzlement as I watched them ride away. There had been a message in the Sword’s words, I was certain of it, but for the life of me, I couldn’t understand what it had been. How could the Amenti blood-oath be fulfilled if that oath meant the death of every man in Gasterny?

  That night, I lay in my bed in the great hall, unable to sleep, listening to the men around me snoring as I tried to understand the riddle that Einhard had given me. Finally, I couldn’t take it any longer, and I thrust my furs aside and stepped outside. The night air was cool for the time of year. I clutched my cloak tighter about me as my breath fogged around my head like a cloud while I climbed to the eastern ramparts. An archer greeted me, and I mumbled something to him as I passed by, lost in my thoughts.

  “Couldn’t sleep?” someone said in a soft voice as I reached the eastern watchtower. I paused in surprise. Fitz sat propped up against the stones where the tower and walls met, hidden within the shadows. He had a battered tin mug in his hand, which he held out to me. “Here, something to help take away your troubles, my friend.”

  I took the tin gratefully, sipping the flat beer before I handed it back and slid down the wall beside the young lord. “I can’t stop thinking about Einhard’s last words,” I said. “I know he was trying to tell me something.”

  Fitz shrugged. “Maybe you’re reading too much into those words. Maybe he just threw them away and they meant nothing at all.”

  I shook my head. “No, I could tell by the way he looked at me when he spoke. He just couldn’t be any clearer about what he wanted to say with that bastard Lorgen listening.”

  “Tell it to me one more time then,” Fitz said with a sigh, leaning his head back against the stone.

  I had repeated Einhard’s words multiple times to the king and the rest of my men, with none of them able to interpret the Sword’s meaning any better than I could. I looked to the star-filled sky, picturing Einhard and the expression on his face. “Unless, of course, the blood-oath has somehow been fulfilled by then,” I said, speaking each word slowly and carefully.

  Fitz took a sip of beer when I was done, burping softly as we both sat in silence, thinking. “Maybe he misunderstood the scope of the Amenti oath,” the young lord suggested after a time. “Maybe he thinks it's just against you and was saying that if you sacrifice yourself, then the oath would be fulfilled, and then he wouldn’t have to support Lorgen.”

  “Einhard’s no fool,” I said. “He would have questioned Three-Fingers thoroughly.” I shook my head. “No, there’s no mistake.”

  “Then I have no idea what he meant,” Fitz said, sounding tired now. He stood, pressing the almost empty tin into my hands. “What I do know is my bladder hurts, and so I must piss or perish. After that, I’m going to try to get some sleep.” He patted me on the shoulder. I could see his thin face twisted into a wry smile in the starlight. “I suggest you do the same, my friend, for tomorrow will be our last day in this world. I would rather not have you nodding off beside me just as the Piths come over our walls, if you don’t mind.”

  Fitz moved unsteadily to the edge of the walkway. He fumbled with his trousers, hopping up and down in frustration before he finally sent a steaming stream of urine down into the bailey. He sighed with relief when he was done, then waved to me as he headed for the ladder. I watched the young lord go, absently twirling the tin mug in my lap as I went over again what Einhard had said. Finally, no closer to understanding than I’d been hours before, and with my brain aching from the frustration, I put my head back against the cold stone and closed my eyes. I slept then, dreaming of the many ghosts of Gasterny, until suddenly I jumped awake, the memory of a conversation that I’d had with Ania not long before the garrison fell coming back to me in vivid detail.

  We were sitting on the steps of the Holy House together. Ania was weaving a conical fruit basket she planned to use to collect the tiny apples that grew in abundance in the forest behind the fortress. I was set to go on patrol in that very forest soon and was spending the time before I left with Ania as I enjoyed the morning sunshine. The patrol I was about to go on would eventually lead Baine and me to Shana’s tortured servant, and ultimately Shana herself, which would soon set off a chain of events that would be the undoing of Gasterny. But of course, I had no idea of that at the time.

  “You have deft hands,” I said to Ania in admiration a
s I watched her work quickly and efficiently.

  “Well, you would know,” Ania replied with a coy chuckle. She winked. “Especially after last night. I’m surprised you can even walk this morning.”

  I laughed, no longer caught off-guard by the Piths' boldness the way that I had once been. Ania and I had spent much of the night in lovemaking but, despite that, I could feel myself stirring with desire again as I studied her fine features and healthy, glowing skin. I had a sudden vision of her lying naked and splayed out on the steps as we humped in front of everyone, and I grinned, keeping it to myself. Knowing Ania, she would want to do it if I said anything.

  “What’s so funny?” Ania asked, one eyebrow raised.

  “Nothing,” I said as I looked away, still chuckling to myself. Baine had just come from the stables leading his horse, and he began checking the cinches and going over every loop and belt with studious attention. Young Peren came out next, leading his horse and Angry. Today would be the Pith youth’s first patrol, and I knew he was greatly looking forward to it. I stood and stretched my back, pausing as I saw Einhard walking with Eriz. The Sword glanced my way and his expression turned frosty. We had argued the night before, and the words we’d said to each other still hung heavily between us. I returned the look—frost for frost—until the men disappeared through the gates into the inner bailey.

  Seeing Einhard made me think of the Pith king he served, and I turned back to Ania. “You were going to tell me a story about Clendon the Peacemaker last night,” I said.

  “I was?” Ania replied, distracted now as one of the hazel branches she was weaving broke and she had to draw it free and start over.

  “Yes,” I nodded. “Before we found something else to do. You wanted to tell me how the king won the tribes over, remember? You said I would enjoy it.”

  “Oh,” Ania said, pausing to look up at me. “That’s right.” She glanced at Baine and Peren. “Maybe it should wait until you get back?”

 

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