“How do you intend to weaken Aron?”
“We need to kill as many soldiers we can. Let’s split Severin into four areas. You and your men take responsibility for three of the walls. Someone else will take care of the northern wall, both of the city and of the palace. One or two guards should die each day.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement on a small side street; a large group of people were coming into the market, walking fast.
“We are prepared,” Ferd said, seeing her reaction and, as he spoke, a cart moved slowly across the street, blocking it. For whatever reason, the horse reared, and two barrels fell, rolling down over the people on the small street. Some of them were caught, and some ran away, but a few still managed to come into the market. “Better leave now,” he said, and pushed a box of cakes into her hand.
“Thank you, I will pay for it later,” she said and walked toward Gria, who was now free of her silk. “I will buy the green one,” she said to Velna, “and that red scarf for Gria. I will send the money later. I am not feeling well,” she pointed to her leg. “Take this too.” She pushed the box of cakes into Gria’s arms, and Velna did the same with the silk. Gria did not complain.
Only one man and two women, the few who were able to pass the cart Ferd had used to block the street, were waiting on Saliné’s return path, and she walked slowly, smiling at how hard the soldier and Gria were trying to walk even slower than a limping woman. She felt comfortable about confronting these three.
“Come here,” Saliné ordered the soldier. “My foot is throbbing. Give me your arm. I hope you are strong enough to support a woman.”
The guard Karel had given her was only seventeen years old, and Saliné doubted that he had ever fought a battle or used that sword he was carrying for fighting. They walked at leisure, and she chose a path that took her along the wall of the street, keeping the soldier on her right. Before she could enter the street, the man she had recognized, who had assaulted her three days ago, walked quickly past her, followed by three women. They stopped when they reached the other three waiting for Saliné in the middle of the street.
Saliné bit her lip, yet she did not stop, just walked a bit slower, trying to find a solution. If I turn, they will attack me from the back. I have to confront them. I hope Ferd’s people will come before... She shook her head at the thought of being paraded naked on the streets.
“Whore!” the women started to shout when Saliné was only twenty feet away from them. They moved to block the street, and Saliné realized that the man who had taunted her before was leading them. When the women blocked the street, he gestured guardedly at Saliné’s soldier, then less guardedly, threatening him.
“Stay calm,” Saliné whispered to the soldier, gripping his arm, and turning him slightly toward her, so he could not see the other man’s threatening gestures. “They are rabble. When we are ten feet from them, unsheathe your sword.” Slowly, she moved half behind him, letting his arm free and, unseen, she took off the tip of her cane, revealing a thin blade, almost ten inches long. Thank you, Felcer, she thought. It was the old man’s personal weapon.
The man in front was now staring angrily at her young guard, gesturing, trying to intimidate him.
“I...” the guard whispered. “I was told to avoid violence.”
“Look at me,” she said in a calm but firm tone. “That’s exactly what you will do. Show them the sword, and they will back away.”
“Are you sure?”
“Now!” she ordered, and the young man forgot everything Karel had told him about avoiding violence. He complied and reached for the hilt of his sword.
The five women moved toward them shouting, “Whore! You killed Mohor. Take her clothes off. Let’s see what a whore looks like. Let’s show the whore to the people. She spread her legs to take Severin from its rightful owner. Let’s spread them again for the real men of Severin.” They stopped walking abruptly when the soldier unsheathed his sword. They did not stop shouting, though.
The man Saliné thought she knew moved fast to take her timorous guard from behind with his knife. The young soldier would have been wounded, or even died, before understanding what had happened, and she stepped forward, her blade piercing the attacker’s eye, going straight into his brain. With a half growl, he fell, his head banging hard against the stones. The women gaped, and sudden silence filled the street. Saliné advanced fast toward them, and started to slash their arms and legs with the blade of her cane. There were not deep wounds, but the cuts enhanced their fear, and they all started to run, crying in pain. When the street was calm again, Saliné walked away, without looking back.
In the evening, when they returned, both Aron and Bucur looked puzzled when they learned what had happened and congratulated her.
“I will find and punish those women,” Aron said.
“Maybe we can out find who was behind them,” Saliné said, absently. “They seemed well organized. That is not good for us. What is the Chief of the Guard doing?”
“Don’t worry,” Bucur placed his hand over hers, “it will not happen again. We have been warned now, and we will turn every stone to find them.”
Yes, yes, you are warned. “Thank you, Bucur,” she smiled.
Felcer told her later that the man she had killed was one of Aron’s captains from Seged. “One scoundrel less,” he said with grim satisfaction.
“Aron’s man?” Saliné asked, her eyes wide with disbelief; she stayed silent for a while, trying to understand. “I did not think that Aron would go that far. I am supposed to be his daughter-in-law. I am just a tool.” Saliné shook her head, unable yet to believe it.
Two days later, it was raining. It was one of the last days of a long summer, but it felt like autumn rain, cold, seeming to last forever, and Saliné woke up early, when the morning was not yet fully born. Under the thick clouds, the city was still asleep. She dressed quickly in a black riding costume, and went to the fireplace. Her fingers closed on a small ornament, rotating it twice, and a hidden door opened into a secret corridor. There was not even a trace of light inside, but she bent and found the things she needed, then went right, walking carefully in the darkness, her hand touching the right-hand wall. “Aron’s,” she whispered after a while, when her fingers stumbled over a small protuberance in the wall. Just two weeks ago, the suite still belonged to Mohor, and she bit her lip, walking further. “Bucur’s,” she whispered again, at the second protuberance. “Mother and little Mark slept here.” Tears ran down her face, and she could no longer move. “I have to do it.” Saliné pushed herself, and walked slowly to the point where the corridor ended in two sets of stairs. A spiral one going down to the small wine cellar, and a straight one going up, for about fifteen feet, leading onto a small platform. She climbed the upper one, and once she stepped onto the platform, she palmed the wall in front until she found a thick wooden plank kept in place by three, L-shaped hooks. Slowly, she took out the plank and placed it on the floor at her feet. Her fingers fumbled until she found a small iron handle. She bit her lip and pulled the handle. It did not move, and she pulled harder. With a faint noise, a stone, ten inches in width and four inches high, moved out from the wall. It was a peculiar stone, trapezoidal in section, the lower part parallel with the floor, the upper one inclined. Once it was out completely, the faint light of the morning filled a part of the platform, and a fresh breeze brushed her face. She breathed deeply, and placed the heavy stone on the floor, on her right. The hole in the wall formed a half arrow loop, allowing her to look down easily. Saliné already knew what to expect, as it was her third visit to the place, yet she still glanced around, fearing that maybe someone else had figured the place out too. The small platform was quiet and was seemingly undiscovered by Aron or his men – there was dust everywhere, and it seemed untouched.
It was Mohor who had disclosed the secret corridor to Saliné, when he learned that Aron would send him to Orban, in Arad, just the day before he was killed. He walked with her, and
revealed all the secrets hidden between the walls. “Not even Aron knows about this one,” he said to her, “and it may be useful to you. “But he knows about the second one, which goes out of the castle.” His voice was still fresh in her mind.
“One day, I will avenge, you, Mohor,” she whispered, looking outside, giving her eyes enough time to adjust to the faint light.
Twelve feet down, in front of her, was the northern wall of the palace, and a sentry was moving back and forth, trying to warm himself. The wall started at the corner of the palace. Invisible from outside, her small platform was part of that corner, and she was able to see the full length of the northern wall of the palace. The sentry was walking lightly, a sign that he was not wearing ring-mail. On her left, forty-five feet away and just two feet lower, was the high wall of the city, and another sentry was walking there. She had a good view there too. From time to time, the two men gestured to one another, encouraging themselves. In half an hour, the next sentry would replace the man on the wall, defending Severin. There would be no guard during the day on the wall surrounding the palace.
Saliné sighed, and watched them closely, counting their steps, and noting when the men could see each other. When she finally understood the pattern of their movements, she reached down and picked up the bow and arrow lying at her feet. She nocked and aimed. Saliné had inherited her skills from Jara, and while Vio was swift and adept with the dagger, Saliné was able to kill a running rabbit, with her bow, at more than a hundred paces. Unaware, the man was coming toward her on the palace wall, and for a few heartbeats, she hesitated. “I must do it. Men like him helped Aron to kill Mohor and to sell Mother and Vio to Orban. They are all like their master, and my only chance to be free is to weaken Aron.” She aimed carefully and held her breath. Even though he was at a hundred feet from her, the man was not a running rabbit, and her arrow flew with a rasping hiss, hitting him just over his heart, a few moments later. The other sentry was going in the opposite direction, and he was not in a position to see what happened. A faint growl escaped from the wounded man; his hand clutched the shaft protruding from his chest, and he half turned, falling silently onto his knees, his body leaning forward over the embrasure between two merlons. The other sentry heard nothing.
That’s good, Saliné thought, seeing the dead man’s position; they will think that the shot came from the garden.
The other sentry walked further, and it was only when he returned, from his higher position, that he saw the dead man and sounded the alarm. The stone taken out from the wall was already in its place and, downstairs, Saliné was walking through the darkness of the corridor.
“One,” she whispered, closing the secret door behind her.
In one week, Aron lost twelve soldiers, and Saliné was trying to figure out how many guards were still in Severin when Felcer came to her, in a hurry that left him short of breath. He closed his eyes, leaning against the door.
“Codrin,” he gasped. “Codrin’s army will arrive in two days. Ferd told me.” He lost his breath again when Saliné embraced him, and she danced like a child, when the old man left her alone in the room.
A day later, in the evening, a column of riders approached the city. From her window, Saliné saw the colors of the Duke of Peyris and her hands gripped the frame of the window. Bucur came to tell her that the seventy-five soldiers would stay in Severin as long as they were needed. She played the role of the fearful woman who had received good news from him but, that evening, she cried again until midnight, the sign of another night without sleep.
I have to continue, she thought. That is my only chance. She dressed fast, in the dark blue riding costume she always used in her escapades, and went into the secret corridor. Despite the darkness, Saliné was able to walk fast, and she was about to go past Aron’s suite when she heard voices inside, through the small spy slit in the wall. Inside the room, the other end of the slit was concealed in a wooden ornament in the corner. It offered a perfect view over three-quarters of the room. There were many splits in the old wood, masking the spy hole. Moving a few steps back, she pressed her ear to the slit. The stone was cold, but the voices were now clear, and she recognized Aron and Bucur.
“The trap is now in place,” Bucur said. “With the new guards we have enough sentries to cover the garden and the attic of the palace. They are well hidden, and will take up their places in the morning. The archers usually strike early in the morning. This time, we may be able to capture them, or at least understand where they are coming from.”
“You still don’t think that Saliné is involved in this?”
“Her suite was guarded on all the nights when sentries were killed. There was no way for her to leave. It must be the same team who killed our soldiers the day Mohor died. There were three archers then, shooting from different directions. Saliné was confined in her room that day, so she could not help them. Or maybe there are some secret corridors in the palace.”
“There is only one. It links the cellar and jail with a tunnel leading out of town.”
“Maybe Mohor kept some things hidden.”
“He didn’t even know about the tunnel. His father did not trust a boy with such secret things. It was Senal who revealed it to us. How many sentries are in the garden?”
“Two, and another one inside the palace. That small half turret at the end of the corridor which links our suites. The second one is in a sentry box at the edge of the garden. From their positions, they are able to see both walls. The one in the box can see the roof too. In the attic, there are three guards. From there, they can see everyone coming and going in a position to shoot at the walls.”
“Gria told me that there is a bow in Saliné’s room.”
“I have checked it already, and it has not been used for some time. The string is not attached to the bow.” Bucur remained silent for a while. “I will ask her tomorrow if she still has her bow. Just to see her reaction.”
She woke up late in the morning, after a brief sleep filled with dark dreams; yet another soldier was found dead on the wall.
Chapter 4 – Cleyre
Cleyre was impatient, and maybe frightened. There were too many bad things happening now in Frankis. Some things she knew about, but she could not stop her mind asking again and again how many things she was still missing. Grandfather is weaker with each passing day, she lamented. He was pressured to help Bucur. How could I miss that? He knew that I would oppose the move, and wanted to avoid an argument. I can’t deny that both Aron and Bucur are more intelligent than any other uncles and cousins I have. I don’t care that Bucur is his bastard grandson, but I care that he has as much character as Orban, the other worm the Circle wanted to be our king. She stood up and paced around her desk, trying to calm her mind.
And Dochia has left Frankis for a while. I wish I could be more open with her and she with me. Strange that she can’t feel that I have the Light. I can feel hers. Maybe that’s why the Wanderers missed me. Anyway, I did not want to join them. It’s bad that she will be away from Frankis, more than she realizes. Dochia will not return here from Muniker; she will go to the nomads in the east. She doesn’t know it yet; I saw that clearly in my vision. Why can’t we see our own future? Perhaps it would frighten us too much.
There was a knock in the door, and Nicolas, the Spatar of Peyris, entered. “Where is the Duke?” he asked, seeing her at his desk.
“The Duke is indisposed,” she said. And so am I. “Tell me.”
Nicolas frowned and half turned. “A courier just came. He almost killed the horse under him to arrive as fast as he could. Mohor is dead, and Aron has taken Severin.”
“The Circle is now working with the Wanderers, and things are going from bad to worse. I know,” she said. “We are helping Aron, but I don’t think that killing the rightful Seigneur of Severin was in my grandfather’s plans or yours. Bucur seems even worse than Orban, and now more people will learn that we have helped him. How long it will be until some may think to play the same game on
us, after dear uncle Albert becomes Duke? Am I right, Nicolas? Or maybe just because I am a woman I can never be right about these things.”
“You are right. Cleyre, don’t take me wrong. I take your military advice with a pinch of salt, but I will never ignore the political insight. Maybe we should agree on this.”
“Politics and the military work together. I rarely contradict you in the council.”
“That’s true, but you piss me off every time you think yourself a military strategist. You are not.”
“And from whom do you think I should learn military strategy? From uncle Albert? His best skills lie in chasing young girls to see what hides under their skirts, and even in that, he is worse than a fifteen-year-old boy. Maybe because he is so short-sighted.”
Unwillingly, Nicolas burst into laughter. “So, you want to learn.”
“Does it bother you?”
“No, I just did not see things from this angle. Fine, from now one I will try to be less offended by your clever mouth.”
“Thank you, Nicolas. Do we have any news from Costa?”
He shook his head and made as if to leave. “What is it?” he asked, seeing her frown.
“This thing with Severin. I am afraid that the Circle wants to push us into a war to defend and expand Aron’s property. We bleed, and he prospers.”
“It may happen.”
“And?”
“I don’t approve of it, but I don’t think that we can avoid it. My impression is that the Duke has already accepted that. I supposed that the Circle pressed him into it.”
“And you told me that we had nothing to fear from supporting Aron when I pissed you off about it.”
“Life is like that,” Nicolas shrugged. “But we can work together to ... lower the expectations regarding our help,” he winked at her. “I have to leave now. Tell the Duke about Severin.”
The Duke received the news with a good dose of indifference – his gout was becoming worse, and talking about Severin did not seem to help. Half annoyed, she left him alone when the memory of her last vision came to her, and she calculated the days. Enough time has passed for a courier to reach Peyris and hide my unorthodox way of receiving information. She calculated again to be sure that she could pretend her knowledge came by courier. Satisfied, she went to see Nicolas who, apart from Duke Stefan, was the only man she could trust at the court.
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