‘It is, Your Grace. I will pass your terms on to the king.’
‘Thank you. Then we are done.’
Edgar turned his horse around, keen to be on his way. The others came with him.
‘Do you have any hope of a surrender?’ asked Edgar.
‘We will see,’ replied Coen. ‘But never underestimate the willingness of men to save their own skins.’
Whilst Ashere’s death still haunted him, especially at night, Farred found that his days had become busy enough for him to put it to the back of his mind.
He would, at any odd time of the day, be summoned to Gustav’s room. Almost always, it was to help with the wizard’s transformation into a hawk. The strangeness of it didn’t disappear, but each time it happened he got a little bit more used to it. Brock had noticed these comings and goings, but Farred had made it clear it wasn’t something he wanted to discuss. After his first experience, he had made the decision that it would be much easier to keep it to himself.
In addition, he was responsible for supervising the watch in the Emperor’s Keep. All the Kellish soldiers were deployed in the defence of the Crag, and so Walter had asked Farred to use his Magnians to keep a permanent guard, especially outside the imperial bedchamber. He made sure that that his men did their duty, and rotated them regularly. But since Walter had first made him aware of the Isharite attempt to send assassins into the keep with magic, it had not happened again.
Farred was carrying out one of his checks with his men when the door to Baldwin’s room slowly opened. Turning towards it, he saw a figure emerge. It was Inge, Gustav’s young apprentice. She had been given the job of staying at Baldwin’s side, in case there was another attempt on his life. She looked straight at Farred, as if expecting him to be here.
‘Will you come in?’ she asked.
Farred crossed the few feet of floor space and arrived at the door.
‘Is everything alright?’
‘Yes,’ she replied, smiling at him. He wasn’t sure that he liked this witch’s smile. ‘Will you come in?’ she repeated.
‘Isn’t His Majesty inside?’
‘Yes.’
She tugged at his arm, pulling him inside the room before closing the door behind him.
‘There,’ she said, pointing at the bed.
Farred got a glimpse of Baldwin and quickly looked away. The Emperor was spread-eagled on the bed, completely naked. Concerned, Farred took a second glance, but could see his chest rising and falling. He was asleep.
He looked at Inge. She was studying his face, enjoying his reaction.
‘I’m afraid I’ve tired him out,’ she said.
Farred could feel his cheeks go red despite himself. There was Inge’s smile again. She was smiling at him, not with him.
Farred took a second look at the witch. He had not paid her much mind, until now. When they had first met he had been too concerned about Prince Ashere’s injuries to notice her very much.
There was no doubt she was pretty. Very slim, with more of a girl’s body than a woman’s. Her face, too, was thin and young-looking, framed by braided, long blonde hair. Her bright blue eyes were fixed on his: sparkling at him, and mocking him at the same time. He could understand why some men might find her attractive. She was making it perfectly plain that Baldwin did.
Why had she brought him in here? To toy with him? Because she wanted to show off that she had bedded the Emperor?
‘You seem surprised,’ she whispered at him, her voice sounding huskier. ‘What would you do if you shared a room with me day and night?’
Again, that mocking smile.
Farred felt a burst of anger. He grabbed the door handle.
‘What the Emperor does is his business.’
At the same time as he said it, a contrary train of thought ran through his mind. Should he tell someone? Should he tell Walter that his brother, the Emperor, was fornicating with a witch? While his men fought for him outside on the Crag?
He pulled open the door and left the room, closing it behind him to the sound of tinkling laughter.
In the corridor, he was met with knowing smiles and winks from his men.
His mind raced with paranoia. What, exactly, are they smiling about? Does the sound of Baldwin and Inge screwing carry through the walls?
‘Not a word,’ he said, keeping the warning suitably vague.
Turning, he stomped off down the corridor.
More secrets, he said to himself. More secrets I don’t want.
Until Theron had shown her a map, Belwynn hadn’t fully appreciated how precarious Kalinth’s position was.
To the north lay three enemies: Kharovia, the lands of the Drobax, and Haskany. All were under the control of Ishari. To the east lay conquered Persala. To the south, the newly conquered lands of the Grand Caladri. The only friendly border the kingdom had left was with the Krykkers. Thanks to Rabigar’s intervention, they had now provided a formidable army to bolster the Kalinthian forces. But the odds seemed stacked against them, nonetheless. It made her wonder to herself whether King Jonas’s policy of peace was so wrong after all. But she wasn’t about to express that thought out loud. Not when Sebastian, Theron, and the rest of the Knights were risking so much on this venture.
Sebastian’s close friend, Remigius, had come down with his force of knights from the High Tower, where the old Grand Master, Galenos, was still held captive. Sebastian added these knights to his army, but appointed Remi to take control of Heractus until they returned.
Prince Dorian had agreed to join the army, bringing with him a few hundred Kalinthians willing to fight for wages or advancement. When Belwynn had asked him about it, he admitted that his father was unhappy with the decision—a comment which she was sure must be a massive understatement. Even if the force under Dorian’s control was small, his presence lent a legitimacy to the army, for which Sebastian was extremely grateful.
After a Council of War with the Krykker chieftains, Theron had got agreement for his invasion of Haskany. There were various strategic reasons behind the decision, which Theron had explained to her, and which Belwynn only half understood. Of course, the fact that the main Haskan army was besieging Burkhard Castle in the Empire, and had therefore left the country only lightly defended, was easy enough to comprehend. But it was also felt that the move would put the greatest pressure on Ishari, and for Belwynn that was all that really mattered. It meant that it held the greatest chance of a rescue of Soren, Clarin and the others. However remote that chance might be.
They marched at a slower pace than the army of the Knights had done on its way to Heractus. While the Krykkers kept up a mean walking pace, they travelled on foot rather than horseback. The Knights of Kalinth scouted the route ahead, but otherwise were restricted to the pace set by the Krykker infantry.
In addition, both the Knights and the Krykkers had brought many carts, filled with siege equipment and other supplies. These carts trundled along at the rear of the army, and acted as another break on the pace they could set. The Kalinthians used draft horses, specially bred for their size and strength. They were larger but slower than the horses used for war. The Krykkers, meanwhile, pulled their carts with buffalo. The biggest of these reached the height of a horse. They had wicked looking curved horns, that sprouted from a solid bone base which covered the top of their heads. This bone shield made them even more formidable looking, and Rabigar had warned Belwynn not to get too close to any of them.
The weather was fine. Belwynn rode next to Elana, with Dorian on the other side of the priestess. The Prince’s force of Kalinthians followed behind them, positioned between the Knights and the Krykkers.
To the east, the Dardelles mountain range knifed out of the ground, serving as a natural boundary between the lands of Kalinth, Persala and Haskany. Their route took them to the far north of Kalinth, from where they could cross east into Haskany. It was rough, hilly land compared to most of Magnia. The Krykkers, however, referred to it dismissively as flatlands, and it
proved no obstacle either to them or to their buffalo drawn carts.
A feeling of exhilaration swept over the force as they crossed from Kalinth into Haskany. Belwynn was no exception. It felt daring to be in the lands controlled by Erkindrix of Ishari. There was also a sense of relief, that they were no longer cowering in fear from the threat, but instead acting to deal with it. Belwynn was sure that nobody present doubted that the odds were stacked against them. For now, though, they could almost feel like they were winning.
It wasn’t long afterwards that the Kalinthians came to a halt. Dorian ordered his men to wait, too. Behind them, the stragglers from Dorian’s unit and the Krykkers would take a while to catch up. Belwynn and Elana dismounted to stretch their legs.
A group of riders came down the line from the front. One of them was Evander, Theron’s squire, and he stopped when he saw them.
‘The Grand Master asks that you attend the War Council,’ he said, addressing Dorian. ‘He also invites you to come too,’ he said, turning to Belwynn and Elana.
‘You two go,’ said Elana. ‘If we’re stopping for a while it’s a good time for me to attend to the soldiers.’
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to accompany you?’ asked Belwynn.
‘No, I’ll be fine.’
‘Moris, please accompany the Lady Elana while I’m away,’ Dorian asked one of his men.
‘Of course, Your Highness.’
The soldier immediately dismounted and attended on Elana.
‘Thank you,’ said Elana.
Belwynn remounted her horse, and she followed Evander and Dorian up the line to the front of the army. Evander turned to the left and took them off the track. A group of sheep moved out of their way as the squire led them up a slope to the top of a rise. Here, Sebastian, Theron and Tycho were waiting for them. Evander helped Belwynn to dismount, and she and Dorian joined the three knights. Theron pointed ahead of them. The terrain sloped downhill and then back up. On the far rise lay a large Haskan fortress. It was a square shape, and had good views over the surrounding area.
‘Masada,’ said Theron. ‘Built to control this route into Haskany. Our two countries have been at peace for a century, but nonetheless it’s been upgraded recently.’
It looked a formidable structure to Belwynn, with thick walls all the way around.
‘I believe that we still have the element of surprise,’ Theron continued, ‘and that there will only be a skeleton garrison inside. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy to break in.’
‘What about ignoring it and carrying on past?’ asked Dorian.
‘It’s an option,’ agreed Theron. ‘But at some point, if he has not already, Erkindrix will get news of our army. If that fortress gets reinforced, and we find ourselves wanting to retreat, we could get trapped.’
Dorian nodded, acknowledging the dilemma.
‘What’s up?’ demanded a gruff voice, as Sebastian’s squire, Alpin, led four Krykkers up the slope to join them.
The voice belonged to Torinac, one of the Krykker chieftains. He carried Madria’s weapon, Bolivar’s Great Sword, tucked into his belt wherever he went, and acted like he was in charge of the Krykker army. But, in fact, the other two chieftains held equal weight. Maragin, a female chief, was much quieter, but Belwynn suspected had a sharper mind. Guremar was the third. He tended to scowl a lot, especially at Rabigar, who had accompanied them. He clearly didn’t like the fact that Rabigar attended these meetings, but Sebastian always made a point of inviting Belwynn’s friend along, and Guremar had stopped short of directly complaining about it.
‘Greetings,’ said Sebastian, shaking each of them by the hand. ‘We have a good view of the fort of Masada from here,’ he explained, indicating the view. ‘We were just saying it’s an impressive structure, but probably lightly defended. We need to decide what to do about it.’
‘Take it,’ said Torinac immediately. ‘Between us we have all the necessary siege equipment.’
‘The trouble is,’ said Tycho, ‘a conventional siege may last days. That would give the Haskans and any other Isharite forces time to get an army together and attempt to raise the siege. We may end up facing superior forces here with very little achieved.’
‘I take your point,’ said Torinac. ‘But we can’t leave it in enemy hands behind our lines either. That could lead to disaster. We’ll have to leave a force here to carry out the siege while the main part of the army moves on.’
‘That might be the most sensible move,’ agreed Theron. ‘I was thinking of trying a ruse of some kind. Moving our army past the fort as if we are gone, but staying hidden. Then allowing a small force to get close to their gates, see if we can draw them out into the open.’
Torinac shrugged. ‘It’s worth a try, Count Theron. Why not? I would say the chances of them opening the gates are small, though. They must know that their best chance of survival is to hold tight and wait for support.’
‘You’re sure there’s only a small force inside?’ asked Rabigar.
‘I can’t be completely certain,’ said Theron. ‘But we know that the main Haskan army is in Brasingia under Queen Shira. Until a few days ago Kalinth was a neutral neighbour. There would be no reason to leave a significant force here. Why do you ask?’
‘I have an idea of a ruse that may work and save us some time. I would have to put it to the three chieftains first, in private. They may well disregard it.’
The three Krykker chieftains looked at him, their faces showing varying amounts of interest and suspicion. The four of them walked down the slope for their private conversation, dispersing a group of sheep who had dared to venture half way up.
Belwynn looked over at the fortress. In a matter of minutes, this war had become very real, and rather complicated.
It was pitch black. Even with his superior eyesight, Kaved had to tread carefully. One false move and the whole Magnian army might wake. The Magnians had the exact same tents as the Middians, which made it hard to determine if he was in the right spot.
Every tent had soldiers inside, with guy ropes pegged into the ground. They were invisible in the darkness, and Kaved had to move cautiously to avoid tripping over them. Despite his care, more than once he walked into a rope, some down at his ankles, others at chest or waist height.
He positioned himself in what seemed to be the right spot, and waited. Out there in the darkness somewhere were Salvinus and Tirano. The tent they were all aiming for belonged to Prince Edgar’s wizard. Tirano had insisted that they had to kill him first, if their assassination of the prince was to be a success. The wizard had frustrated Tirano’s attempts to kill Edgar at the Battle of Lindhafen. That had probably been enough to turn the tide of the battle from victory to defeat.
Well. Now it was time for revenge.
An owl hooted. That was the signal. Tirano must have somehow determined that the wizard was in the tent.
Kaved moved towards their victim, treading carefully once more. He took his hand axe from his belt, the perfect weapon for close quarter butchering. To his left his eyes just made out the form of someone else heading for the tent. Tirano. So, he was in the right place.
‘Go.’
The wizard’s voice, drifting through the night, was so quiet you could make yourself believe that you had imagined it.
Kaved got to the tent. A last-minute change of mind. He swapped his axe for his sword, since it would be easier to get in with the piercing blade. Holding the canvas taut, he punctured it with the sharp tip of his sword blade, then sliced down, making an opening big enough to get through. He dived in, keen to be as quick as possible.
Someone entered from the opposite side of the tent. Salvinus. Kaved looked around. There. The wizard was sitting up, but held immobile by Tirano’s magic. He had one arm outstretched towards the front of the tent as if he were trying to combat the spell. Kaved moved in for the kill. The wizard caught the movement, his eyes turning in his head to look at Kaved. But the rest of his body still couldn’t move. Kaved plun
ged his sword into the wizard’s chest from the side. Salvinus had now caught up with the action, and he finished the job, repeatedly stabbing the wizard, to make sure that he was really dead.
Kaved gave a shudder. He relived the eyes of the wizard turning towards him, looking at his killer but unable to move. Not a good way to die.
‘Come on, let’s go,’ whispered Salvinus in the dark. ‘We need to kill the prince as quickly as possible.’
20
The Rock Walkers
IT WAS STILL NIGHT-TIME. WHAT had woken him?
It took a moment for Edgar’s mind to break through the fog of sleep. He was in a tent outside the city of Coldeberg. He always slept lightly in a new place. Maybe that was all it was. Still, some instinct made him sit up and reach over for his sword.
His movement stirred his ever-watchful bodyguards, Leofwin and Brictwin. Then, black forms could be seen: out in the darkness, outside the tent. Edgar tried to call out a warning, but he found that his voice didn’t work. His muscles couldn’t move. The same thing that had happened to him in the Battle of Lindhafen. He pushed against the restriction, trying to move his body, but it was no good.
From three different directions, the tent was suddenly invaded by the black forms. Edgar could see Leofwin and Brictwin stumble to their feet. To Edgar’s right, a Krykker, heavy-set and carrying a sword and axe, burst in. Brictwin reacted first. As the Krykker spotted Edgar, Brictwin slashed at the creature with his sword, forcing it to block the strike.
To Edgar’s left, the second figure to enter the tent was familiar. Gervase Salvinus. So—they had come to kill him. Perhaps he should have expected this. Salvinus walked towards him but Leofwin blocked his path.
The Weapon Takers Saga Box Set Page 60
