Back From Chaos

by Yvonne Hertzberger

  Klast took a small, nondescript copper ring from a hidden pocket in his breeches and gave it to Felson. “Lord Gaelen will understand if you give him this. Tell him I will come to him by dusk.”

  Felson took the ring, yet hesitated. His orders were to stay with Marja. Klast made up his mind for him by knocking him on the temple just hard enough to render him unconscious for a short time. Marja gasped.

  The second guard had his sword out, ready to defend her, but backed off when he saw that Klast was ready for him. Klast had a formidable reputation and a fierce expression to match it. The guard sheathed his sword.

  Marja had already reached the gate and followed Klast out. “Tell me all,” she demanded.

  Klast shook his head. “My lady, I will tell you as soon as we are safely away,” and strode swiftly ahead of her. He looked back, nodded for her to follow, and slipped into a narrow passage that Marja had not known was there even though she had passed that way several times. Klast saw her hesitate before she followed him into it. He understood her reluctance. Now, no one could see or hear them.

  Klast led her though a series of narrow passages with many twists and turns. Klast knew his job well. She would never be able to remember her way back.

  When they were well away, Klast turned to look over his shoulder. “You may ask your questions now, my lady. We will not be heard here.” Then he turned back and kept walking. She would have to talk to his back. He wasted no time.

  “Tell me what happened. Is Brensa all right?”

  “You will find her much changed, my lady. She has endured what no woman should suffer. It will take a long time for her to recover. Bodily she is as well as may be expected … but …” Klast gave her a brief sketch of the events since Brensa’s kidnapping, but told her very little of the role he had played in her rescue. He finished his report with, “She is very frightened, my lady. It will take time.”

  With that he held up his hand for silence as they approached the door behind which Brensa waited. He stopped before it and knocked firmly. Then he called in a firm voice, face close to the door, “Brensa, it is I, Klast. I have brought Lady Marja. Please open the door,” and waited.

  When Brensa unbarred the door, Klast entered first to find her backed against the far corner of the cell, trembling in fear. Klast held the door for Marja and barred it immediately behind her again.

  Marja entered swiftly, then stopped short with a gasp. “Brensa! What has happened to you!?”

  She whirled on Klast, who stood to the side, thumbs hooked into his belt, feet apart. He chose that studied pose, meant to look relaxed and non-threatening, but, out of habit, one hand rested close to his sword. The stance kept him ready to fight in an instant if necessary.

  Marja’s shock at the sight of the ragged, bone-thin scarecrow that confronted her expressed itself in fury. Klast remained implacable as she rounded on him.

  “What have you done to her? I will have you hanged! Lord Gaelen should never have trusted you! I will have you …”

  She did not have time to finish. Brensa stepped between them. “Stop, my lady!”

  Brensa’s anguish cut through Marja’s rage. She stopped abruptly, mouth still open, eyes widening in surprise.

  Klast stood stock still as Brensa moved in front of him and placed the tips of the fingers of her right hand on his left wrist in a protective gesture.

  He was astonished. Brensa, so frightened, had found the courage to intervene on his behalf. All the time they had spent together she had spoken not a word voluntarily.

  Now she went on in a rush. “Klast saved me. He took care of me.” She hesitated a moment, then added in a whisper, her courage used up, “He is a good man.”

  Klast hardly dared to breathe. He wanted to keep that touch on him, tenuous as it was. It was the first time any person had done so since the Missus had bathed his ankles years ago. He could feel Brensa tremble and understood what it cost her to defend him against her lady.

  Marja stayed silent for a long time, studying each of them in turn.

  Brensa dropped her hand but stayed where she was.

  Finally, Marja broke the silence. “I think I see.” She turned to Klast and met his eyes. “It seems I have misjudged you.”

  Klast could see the effort it cost her to admit she had been wrong in not trusting him. She would never like him. He knew that. But he hoped she could no longer doubt his loyalty. He waited for her to continue.

  “I am deeply grateful to you for bringing Brensa back safely. Now, Brensa needs care. Please see us back to our quarters so that I may tend to her. Then I am certain Lord Gaelen will wish to meet with you. He needs to hear what you have learned.” Her manner became more curt again.

  “As you wish, my lady.” Klast heard the chill in Marja’s voice. He understood that it had bruised her pride to admit she had been wrong. At least she would no longer speak against him. He had hoped for no more than that.

  Brensa spoke up then, holding back before following Klast out, and looked at Marja through lowered lids, head down, as if afraid. “My lady? … Am I still? … Do you still? … I don’t wish to …”

  Klast finished for her, as it became clear that she could not voice what she feared. “My lady, Brensa fears she is no longer welcome at court after what has happened to her. She does not wish to cause you shame or embarrassment.” His voice cut like ice, and he eyed Marja closely to see her reaction, prepared to take Brensa away again if necessary.

  Marja looked as though she had been sluiced with cold water and just come to her senses. “Oh, Brensa! Forgive me.” She stepped up and tried to embrace her. Brensa stiffened, then relaxed slightly, as Marja backed away again.

  Marja soothed, “Of course I still need you with me. How could you imagine that I would no longer want you by me?” With that she finally broke down and drew Brensa close as they wept together. “My dear friend, I have been frantic for you. I have missed you so much. I am so glad you are here again. Come home where I can look after you.”

  Brensa’s shoulders lost their rigidity and a flicker of hope came into her eyes.

  Klast opened the door and held it for the two women. No one spoke on the way back. Felson, the guard who had gone to tell Gaelen of Klast’s return, looked greatly relieved when the trio appeared at the garden gate. He hurried to meet them. “Lord Gaelen waits for you at the appointed place.”

  “Thank you.”

  With that, Klast was gone as though he had never been there.

  ~41~

  A BATH

  Marja wasted no time in ordering a bath, clean clothes and food. Sensing that Brensa needed time away from curious eyes, she dismissed her waiting women.

  As soon as they were alone, she coaxed a reluctant Brensa into the bath.

  “I do not want you to see, my lady.” Brensa’s head hung and she avoided meeting Marja’s eyes. “I am ruined … I do not wish you to see what they did … and I am so dirty.”

  “Nonsense, Brensa. I am not so fine that I cannot help my dearest friend. A little dirt will not hurt me. Please, let me help you take off those rags. The water will be cold.”

  Brensa obeyed hesitantly, her eyes on the floor.

  The hot water and the calming scent of lavender soon achieved their desired effect, and Brensa began to relax. Marja did not ply her for information, though it was hard to stop herself. She gently sponged off the dirt, washed Brensa’s hair, and spent the next span detangling it. Marja hoped she would not need to deal with lice or fleas later, but pushed that thought aside.

  Instead of asking Brensa to tell her what happened to her, she brought her up to date on events in Bargia, as though this were the most normal conversation in the world.

  In between, she urged Brensa to eat bites of the fresh bread, honey and the mild new cheese that sat on a tray beside them. She was careful to water the wine lest Brensa fall asleep before she could get her out of the tub. Marja cringed when she saw Brensa’s injured ribs, but did not let
her notice and did not remark on them. All that could wait until later, when Brensa had slept. Her heart ached to see how thin her friend had become. That would need to be remedied quickly.

  ~42~

  A TRAITOR

  Klast found Gaelen waiting on a rickety grey chair in a cell similar to the one where he had hidden Brensa. It held another stool and a small, crude table. Klast saw with gratitude that Gaelen had anticipated he would be hungry. On the table sat fresh spelt bread, cold venison and cheese, along with a crock of cool ale and two clay cups. Gaelen had brought these from the castle kitchen on his way. When he admitted him upon hearing the coded rap, Klast stepped in and barred the door again behind himself.

  “Welcome, my friend,” Gaelen began. “It is good to see you again. I understand Brensa is restored to us. I am sure you have much to report.”

  “Indeed I do, my lord.” Klast tore into the bread and cut a large slice of cheese. “Some you will not wish to hear.” He swallowed a large bite and took a gulp of the ale Gaelen had poured before continuing. “You have a traitor among your most trusted. Your lady is in grave danger. I was much relieved to see her safe on my return.”

  Klast went on to report on finding and rescuing Brensa, leaving out the details of her care, but letting Gaelen know how badly affected she was.

  Gaelen waited patiently throughout, his expression growing more grave. He stopped Klast only twice for more details. When Klast revealed that he had heard the brigands mention Sinnath’s name, Gaelen became very sombre and looked at the table.

  “I regret that I must be the bearer of such dire news, my lord. And I understand that his treason may be impossible to prove.”

  Klast kept silent as he waited for Gaelen to take in this disturbing revelation. Klast knew that Lord Bargest had trusted Sinnath for as long as either of them could remember. To hear that that same man now plotted to kill his lady hit him hard.

  Finally, Gaelen ran his hand across his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked up at Klast. “Thank you, my friend. Once again you have done Bargia and myself an invaluable service. I do not doubt that you heard correctly. As you may imagine, this news distresses me. Sinnath has been highly regarded at court for my entire life. So he cannot be openly accused. Without proof, an accusation of treason would split the court and weaken Bargia. And you are correct in saying it will be difficult to prove. That leaves me with only one choice. Once again, my friend, I must call on your services. You are the only one who knows of this? Do you think Brensa overheard?”

  “No, my lord. I do not believe Brensa knows. Even if she does, she is unlikely to speak of it to any, excepting, perhaps, to Lady Marja. She speaks very little since her ordeal,” Klast ended softly as he put down his knife and drained the last of the ale, replete.

  “Then you know what must be done. No one must hear of this. I rely on you to find the proof we need. It must be such that no one can doubt it. Meanwhile, we must carry on as if all is well. Sinnath must not suspect. I had thought to send you back to Catania and inquire of Argost what is needed there. However, I see that you are needed more here. I will send Gorn to Catania.” Gaelen slumped wearily on his chair, again rubbing his hand over his eyes in the familiar gesture.

  It struck Klast that Gaelen had aged ten years since inheriting the title. The sudden responsibility showed its effects. This was no longer the cheerful, enthusiastic young man he had sparred with in weapons training or argued strategy with.

  Klast had expected Gaelen would assign him to spy on Sinnath. He was the only one with the skill to succeed undetected. In a way, it pleased him to remain in Bargia. It gave him a chance to check on Brensa. It occurred to him to wonder for a moment why that mattered.

  Gaelen handed Klast the copper ring back. The interview over, they both rose, Gaelen gathering the pitcher and goblets to take back to the kitchen.

  It did not occur to Klast that his lord need not perform such a mundane task. When alone together, formalities were forgotten.

  As Klast locked the door, Gaelen said, “I must see how my lady fares now that Brensa is restored to her … and find out how Brensa is.” Then he turned back to Klast and asked, “How did Lady Marja appear when she saw her friend?”

  Klast understood the unspoken question behind the obvious one. “We have reached an understanding, my lord.” He gave Gaelen a tight smile and walked away in the opposite direction. He pretended not to see the relief Gaelen had been unable to hide.

  ~43~

  BAIT

  Klast trudged his way to the Black Bull, a third-rate inn in the western quarter, where he knew he could get both a bath and a decent meal. He might also get a feel for the latest gossip and the mood of the common folk. Weary as he felt, he did not allow himself the luxury of rest. He had inured himself long ago to getting by on little sleep. A bath and food would revive him. His understanding of the urgency of his mission to the stability of Bargia’s future and Gaelen’s rule of it pressed him to push the limits of his endurance. Gaelen needed proof against Sinnath quickly.

  On entering the inn, Klast donned his “I am nobody you want to notice” mien and approached the bar. He showed his coin to prove he could pay and requested a hot tub in the men’s common bathing room, and a large jug of ale. Many of the less expensive inns in Bargia had a room set aside where men who had no coin for single rooms could bathe. Usually this also involved a good deal of cheap local ale or wine. The warm water and the drink loosened men’s tongues, making these inns good places to gather information.

  As he lowered himself into the hot water, he feigned drunkenness and settled clumsily down to soak, occasionally coming up for more ale.

  The three men in the other tubs barely glanced in his direction. They had more interest in the maids bringing hot water, engaging them in bawdy talk, and making lewd suggestions. As in most such establishments, the maids were experienced with this kind of behaviour and skilled at deflecting all but the most persistent. Those tended to end up with cold water, until they got the message.

  After making a show of interest in the maid who brought his water, Klast settled down to listen. When he deemed the wait long enough, he steered the conversation into his desired direction. “Canna count on anythin’ stayin’ the same. Come back from tradin’ in the north, and there be all kinds o’ soldiers stoppin’ me, snoopin’ into all my goods, askin’ stupid questions. Guess the new lord be scared of his own shadow. Hear he brought back a wife from Catania. Seems our own isna good enough fer ’im.” He took another long pull of nothing from the jug and waited for a response.

  He heard a snort from the tub behind him, where he remembered the one with the full red beard soaked.

  “Word is, she seduced ’im with a spell.”

  Klast responded, “Way I hear, he keeps ’er locked up tight … s’posed to be a beauty.”

  The room remained silent for a long moment. Then the second man, the big one with the dark curly hair, spoke up cautiously. “Dinna know about that. Heard somebody wants ’er gone, though. Heard they got the wrong one on the mountain.”

  “Mayhap they couldna tell the lady from the maid,” red beard chortled.

  Klast huffed his acknowledgement of the jibe, but remained silent. This was the talk he had been hoping for. That the man was so quick to bring it up showed that Sinnath had been busy, indeed. The doubts he had planted had already circulated. Klast waited to see what the other might say. A natural break came when the maids returned with more hot water.

  Klast asked, “They really got the wrong one?” He feigned another pull from the jug and wiped his arm across his mouth, “Mayhap they sent fools to do a man’s job,” and gave another derisive snort.

  Red beard piped up. “You lookin’ for the job? Think yer better’n them? Me, I want to keep my head on my neck. ’Sides, who cares if she isna one of our own. Long as she keeps him busy so’s he dinna look too close at us poor folk. Got enough taxes ’n laws now.”

  “Nah,” Klast demurred.
“I dinna need trouble. ’Sides, like I said, he keeps her locked up. Couldna get close enough anyhow.” He paused as if thinking, then mused, “Still, might be gold in it fer the right man.” He paused again. “Too risky fer me, though. Dinna think it would pay enough.”

  The dark man remained silent, and Klast knew he had heard all from him he was willing to say in public. If he was involved, Klast knew the fellow would be in touch with him. He took another long pull from the jug and sank further into his tub. He could feel the man’s eyes on him, assessing him, making sure he would remember him. So far, so good, Klast thought.

  The dark man waited a only short time longer, then shouted for the maid to bring him a cloth to dry off with. When he was dry and dressed, he nodded briefly at Klast before leaving. Klast understood it as a signal and waited only a moment before ending his own bath. He dressed quickly and took a corner table in the common room. He ordered stew and dark bread, having brought his jug with him. However, he was soon disappointed. He finished his stew and ordered more bread. When the man did not appear, it told Klast that he would need to tread carefully. This one would not give himself away easily.

  ~44~

  BAD NEWS

  Gaelen hailed the nearest soldier he met and had him call together the council members for an emergency meeting. He needed to flush Sinnath out before he did more damage. As long as Sinnath remained unsuspected he would be free to further his schemes. Marja would remain in danger … and his son. A smile softened his face for a moment at that thought … a son, an heir. Then he pulled his attention back to the business at hand.

  Liethis had not been able to guarantee his future. He needed to take action, yet she had warned that he must tread cautiously. Somehow he must appear to be unaware of Sinnath’s duplicity while leading him to reveal himself. Gaelen’s frown deepened as he realized he had no idea how he might accomplish this. He wondered briefly if Klast might be wrong, then shook his head. No, Klast had always been frank whenever he had any doubts, and he had been very certain this time.