A Sellsword's Wrath

by Jacob Peppers

  The general grunted, “An army of peasants, no doubt, that barely know which end of the sword to hold.”

  “If I may,” the scholar, Mirmanon said, “I think that it must be agreed, princess, that Belgarin’s army is coming. The recent past leaves little doubt to his desires and the acts he is willing to commit to bring those desires to fruition. My question, then, is, what do you believe should be done about it?”

  Adina nodded to the man gratefully, “I’m glad you ask, sir. I propose that the only possible option,” she said, turning back to the queen, “is to ally with Ellemont, to combine your army with his own.”

  The general laughed, “Preposterous. You would have us combine forces with that … that mole? Would have us sully our ranks with men smelling of damp and earth from burrowing into their mountain home like rodents?”

  “That mole you speak of,” Adina said, “is of royal blood. Shares blood, in fact, with your queen. I think you’d do well to remember that, general.”

  The old scholar, though, was nodding. “Even so, princess, as you say, Prince Ellemont’s army is smaller than my queen’s. If your numbers are right, and I’ve no reason to doubt them, then we would still be outnumbered.”

  Adina nodded, “Yes, historian, it’s true. However, there are people at work, even now, trying to gather the forces of Avarest. If they are successful, we may have an army of a size close enough to rival Belgarin’s own.”

  The young captain snorted then winced in pain, touching his bandaged nose gently, “Everyone knows that Avarest is a city of thugs and prostitutes. What do you intend, princess? That we will defeat Belgarin’s army with such a force?”

  “I confess,” the general said, “I must agree with our—” he paused to grin, “injured captain. We do not have the time, alas, to let the prostitutes do their work on Belgarin’s army and hope that they all catch the rot.”

  “It is an idea that could very well bear fruit,” the old scholar said, ignoring the disgusted looks of the other two men. “Avarest and its surrounding environs, it is known, are more populated, by far, than any of the other royal kingdoms. If they were to be armed and made ready for war—”

  “And what does an old man know of war?” The general sneered.

  “I think, perhaps,” the old man said with a humble shrug, “I may have read a book or two on the topic.”

  “Books,” the general mocked, “how very useful.”

  “I would have your thoughts, sister,” Adina said.

  They all paused then, glancing at the queen, and Adina knotted her fists underneath the table. Please, Isabelle, she prayed, do not be foolish.

  “I do not enjoy the idea,” the queen said, “of coupling my armies with Ellemont’s own, sister. He is of royal blood, but there is no question that he is craven. I doubt, seriously, if he would even accept, should I make such an offer.”

  “But we have to try,” Adina said, “surely, you see that. I’ll go myself, if you wish.”

  The queen frowned in thought. Then, finally, “We must consider this further,” she said. “It is late, and I am tired. It has, after all, been a very busy day. Guards,” she said, motioning, “show my sister and her companions back to their rooms.”

  “Isabelle,” Adina began, “there’s no ti—”

  “Enough, sister,” The queen said. “I have heard your arguments, but Isabelle not Adina is queen in Isalla. Now, my men will see you back to your rooms.” She glanced at the young captain with disgust then turned to the general, “General Vander, if you might be so kind as to remain, I have a few things which I would like to discuss.”

  The man smiled, bowing his head low, “I live to serve, my queen.”

  “Forgive me, Majesty,” the scholar said, “but I, too, have some few matters regarding the princess’s idea that I would like to discuss with you.”

  The queen sighed, “Very well. The rest of you may leave.”

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-FOUR

  The four of them sat gathered in Adina’s rooms once more, their expressions troubled. “The general is a fool,” Adina said, “as is the captain. I’m glad you broke his nose, Aaron. Both men could do with a lot more than that.”

  “I was thinking along those lines myself,” Aaron said.

  “Of course, you can’t do anything,” Adina said, meeting his eyes, “we are already not in my sister’s good graces. We can’t afford to anger her any further.”

  “Don’t worry,” Aaron said, smiling, “She said she’d send for us tomorrow. I can’t get into too much trouble in a day.”

  Leomin grinned “Don’t sell yourself short, Mr. Envelar. We all here know that your skill is unsurpassed when it comes to making friends.” His expression grew more serious then, thoughtful, “Mirmanon.” He shook his head, “Truly, it is incredible to meet such a wise man in person.”

  “Yes,” Adina said, frowning, “let us just hope that he is able to make my sister see reason. No matter what that fool of a general says, Belgarin’s army will hardly slow down as it tramples my sister’s into the dust if they meet in the open. It would be a slaughter.”

  Aaron nodded slowly, “The man is stupid, but I wonder if even he can be that stupid. Pretty armor or not, he has to understand that Isabelle’s army stands no chance against Belgarin’s.”

  “What are you saying?” Adina said, “Do you think that … what, he’s somehow in league with Belgarin?”

  Aaron shrugged, “I don’t know what I think, princess. But a general—fool or not—has to know better than to take on a force many times his own’s size in a pitched battle with any expectation of winning. My father taught me that numbers aren’t everything in a war, but five men with swords will take one man with a sword pretty much ten times out of ten. It seems strange to me that a man of the general’s rank doesn’t know that.”

  Adina considered that, frowning, “It isn’t as if Belgarin hasn’t used inside agents before. It’s what happened to my kingdom.” She nodded, “The next time we speak with Isabelle, perhaps we’ll have to raise the possibility. And, however tomorrow goes, I think it would be wise for us to dig a little deeper into the general, if we can. If the man is indeed working for Belgarin, we will need to find proof of it. I do not think that my sister will choose a cold bed without reason.”

  They talked on for a while longer, but there really was little else to say and soon Leomin and Owen went to their own rooms in search of what sleep they could find. Aaron was at the door heading to his own when Adina spoke. “Aaron.”

  “Yes, princess?” He asked, turning back.

  She grinned mischievously, “I think you can call me Adina. Anyway, be careful, will you? That captain was staring blades at you during the meeting.”

  Aaron smiled, “I’m always careful, Adina. And don’t worry—I won’t get in trouble.” He gave her a wink and left.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Aaron dreamed that he was running through Avarest, his home, being chased by something. He never got a good look at it, but heard it, felt it, and knew that each time he turned a corner, should he look back, he would see it, this terrible, monstrous thing, but he would not turn, could not, for the dream, like all dreams, had its own rules, its own design. So he ran on, his breath ragged in his chest, each step feeling as if he was pushing against a strong current of water.

  His friends were in the dream: Adina, May, Leomin, Gryle, and all the rest, but every time he drew close to one, shouting for help, they’d change. Their forms would shift and melt into shadow until that’s all they were, darkness given form and function, and soon they too were pursuing him, an army of creatures from the darkness and of it.

  He jerked awake with a gasp, somehow knowing someone was in his room. He leapt to the side of the bed away from the door, had a confused moment when he looked for his sword only to realize the guards still had it, then he glanced up, expecting to see the young captain, Francis, his blade drawn. The captain, however, was nowhere to be seen. Instead,
four soldiers stood before him, silver breastplates over their fine white uniforms, and—about this much, at least, he’d been right—swords clutched in their fists.

  “What the fuck?” He said, remembering that he’d told Adina he wasn’t going to get into any trouble. Well, trouble had a way of finding a man when he least expected it—his life had taught him as much, and he cursed himself silently for forgetting. He crouched low into a fighting stance, his hands at his sides, ready.

  “Please, Mr. Envelar,” one of the soldiers said, and Aaron realized with a start that it was Brandon Gant, the old sergeant’s easy smile nowhere in evidence now, “don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

  “Make what any harder?” Aaron said, his gaze darting between the four men.

  The sergeant grunted, “You’d have me believe you don’t know.”

  “What I know,” Aaron said, “is that I was in the middle of having one of the world’s most fucked up nightmares and, normally, I would have been happy to have been wakened from it but, just now, I’m a little unsure. If you’d wanted to have breakfast together, sergeant, all you had to do was ask.”

  The sergeant smiled sadly, “Ah, Mr. Envelar, I do wish that I could believe you had nothing to do with it—I truly do. But, you see, there are witnesses. Witnesses that saw your man skulking from the old man’s chambers.”

  “My man? Brandon, what in the name of the gods are you talking about?”

  The older man sighed, “The Parnen, Aaron.”

  “Hold on,” Aaron said, rubbing at his temples, “let me get this right. You’re saying someone was killed and, what? Leomin was seen skulking away? Brandon, you saw the man; he’s got bells in his hair for fuck’s sake. That man’s never skulked a day in his life.”

  Brandon shrugged, “It’s the word the witness used. Anyway, it doesn’t matter, Aaron. He was seen leaving.”

  “Okay,” Aaron said, his mind racing, “let me take a guess. Was the witness Captain Francis, by chance?”

  Brandon grunted, “You’re right there and believe me, Aaron, my thoughts ran much the same as yours no doubt are now. Problem is, there were three witnesses. The captain, General Vander, and a cleaning woman. They all say they saw the same thing—your friend with blood on his clothes, a knife in his hand. We already checked his room, got him held down below in the dungeons. Aaron, we found him naked, the bloody clothes tossed under his bed, along with a knife.”

  “Under the bed?” Aaron said, “Brandon, are you kiddin’ me? Did Leomin strike you as simple? He’s going to murder someone then come back and hide the evidence under the damned bed? He was framed—had to been. I know Leomin, and the man can be a right pain in the ass sometimes, but he’s no murderer.”

  “The door was locked from the inside, Aaron. The only other option is that the real killer somehow went into the Parnen’s room while he was sleeping, managed not to wake him while he hid the bloody rags and the blade under the bed Leomin was sleeping in, and then this same culprit managed to latch the door from the inside while he was leaving.”

  Aaron thought a moment, looking for some other possibility. Co, any ideas?

  Something’s happened, Co said, I … I don’t know, Aaron.

  Great. “Well. Shit. Will there be a hearing? I could speak on the man’s behalf—I’ve known Leomin for a while now. Listen, Brandon, give me a day. I’ll look into it; I can guarantee you that whatever happened, Leomin didn’t kill anybody.”

  “You don’t understand, Aaron,” the sergeant said, wincing, “it’s worse than that. The captain and the general … well, they’re incensed at the idea that one of the queen’s guests murdered one of her closest advisors. The same guest that you, Adina, and your friend Owen came with.”

  Aaron shook his head, running a hand through his hair, “You’re going to arrest all of us.”

  The sergeant nodded, “Those are my orders. Except for your friend, Owen, that is. Seems he abandoned the rest of you in the night. We’ve men out searching for him, but they’ve been gone a while now and no one seems to have seen him. It’s as if he vanished, like a ghost.”

  “Like a ghost.”

  The older man shrugged, reaching his hand out with a pair of manacles in it. “I’m gonna ask you to come peacefully, Aaron. If you did this, then you’re not the type of man I had you pegged for, and if you didn’t, then it isn’t going to do you any favors to fight it. The truth will out—it always does.”

  “Yeah,” Aaron said, “I’ve heard that. Of course, I’ve also seen men executed for crimes they never committed, so where does that leave us?”

  The old sergeant gave a weary sigh, “I don’t know. But I’ll tell you, Aaron—you’ve got skill. Maybe you manage to take down one or two of us before we cut you down, but, to be honest, I doubt it. You standing there no shirt on, weaponless, and the four of us fully armored and armed. Aaron, don’t throw your life away—not now.”

  “Brandon,” Aaron said, almost desperate now, “look, what of Adina? You said you knew her when she was a child. Lock me up, if you have to—the gods know it won’t be the first time I’ve seen the inside of a cell. A man in my line of work, well, if he doesn’t get hauled in from time to time, he’s not very good at his job. But Adina? Tell me, sergeant. Tell me you’re not going to lock up the little girl that was always nice to you. Tell me you’re not gonna sit by while she’s executed.”

  The sergeant cleared his throat, a shamed look coming across his face. Then, in another moment, it was gone, replaced by an angry frown. “I don’t appreciate words said in good faith being thrown back at me like that, Mr. Envelar. I said them from one man of the sword to another. Besides, the general and the captain didn’t say anything about any executions.”

  “Oh, don’t treat me like a fucking idiot, Brandon,” Aaron said, “they might not have said it, but that’s only because they don’t have to. You and I both know how something like this ends.”

  Brandon shook his head slowly, “Maybe most times, but you come with me peacefully Aaron, I promise I won’t rest until I’m certain of the truth. Not until I find out for sure what happened, and you’ve got my word I’ll make sure the guilty party pays.”

  “That’ll be a comfort, I’m sure, while I’m lying in my grave.” He considered it then, looking at the four men arrayed before him. The sergeant wasn’t far wrong. Alone? One, maybe two. With Co’s help, he thought maybe he could take all four, but he wouldn’t be able to do it without bloodshed. Men would have to die, if he wanted to stay out of the dungeons. The thought turned his stomach and that in itself was strange. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t killed before and for a lot less. If he let these men have their way, he’d be imprisoned sure, but so would Leomin. So would Adina. But if he didn’t, if he fought, there were no guarantees; maybe he could take the men. But if not, there’d be no doubt of his guilt then, would there? No doubt of Leomin’s or Adina’s either, come to that. Even that wasn’t the real problem though. With his bond with the Virtue, he’d done some amazing things, and he was pretty sure he had some more in him. But if he did it, if he drew on that power, there would be blood and a lot of it. Innocent blood.

  “To the Fields with it,” Aaron said, stepping forward and offering his arms to the man. “Let’s just fucking get it done then.”

  “Thank you, Aaron,” the older man said, “and you have my word.”

  “Words mean little to a dead man,” Aaron said as the sergeant latched the manacles on each of his wrists, following it up with two more around his ankles. Brandon did his work in silence then two of the guards took up position in front of Aaron, Brandon and the other behind. “Oh yeah,” Aaron said as they led him out the door, “who died?”

  ***

  More guards were waiting with Adina and Leomin in the hall, along with the smiling captain. “Are you okay?” Aaron asked Adina as the guards pushed the three of them together and moved to encircle them.

  Adina nodded slowly, still groggy with sleep, “I’m fine, Aaron, but … w
hat’s happening?”

  “Well,” Aaron said, “I guess I might have lied to you, princess. Seems I’ve gotten into trouble, after all.”

  He glanced at the Parnen and saw the man’s scalp was bloody, a crimson stain marring one side of his face. “Captain?”

  Leomin turned to him, and it seemed to Aaron that he had a hard time focusing. His mouth, too, had been gagged, but he managed a drunken nod.

  “Gag him as well,” the captain said, his face alight with cruel joy.

  One of the guards pulled out a kerchief and started forward. “Is that really necessary, captain?” Brandon said, “his feet and wrists are bound. He can’t cause us much trouble with his mouth.”

  “Do not forget yourself, sergeant,” Francis said with a sneer, “there is only one captain here. Now, unless you wish to be chained up beside this bastard and the rest of the lot, you’d best keep your mouth shut.”

  “Maybe you could cover my ears too,” Aaron said, “at least then, I won’t have to hear your fucking bitching and moaning you pompous little bastard.”

  The captain’s face went a dark shade of red. “Hold him,” he growled and two guards stepped forward, grabbing Aaron’s arms. He could have struggled, but there wasn’t really any point, not with his arms and legs chained as they were. Once the guards had a good hold, the captain stepped forward and struck Aaron in the stomach with a gauntleted fist.

  The air left him in a whoosh, and the guards released him enough so that he fell to his knees, gasping for air. “You … hit like a bitch.” Aaron managed.

  “Bitch am I?” The captain asked, then a fist struck Aaron in the side of the face and stars exploded in his vision. “Bastard, am I?” The voice asked, but Aaron’s thoughts were muddied, confused, and it seemed to him that the voice came from far, far away. He heard someone screaming, thought maybe it was Adina, but he couldn’t be sure. “How about you listen to this bitching and moaning?” the voice said. Something heavy struck Aaron in the back of the head, and he knew nothing more.