Lorcan nodded and followed Keverin, looking back over his shoulder at the laughing children.
The Halfway House was a comfortable looking place, well kept and stately in its old age. Looking around, Keverin suspected the inn had been built before the rest of the town, probably to supply comfort to travellers on the road to Elvissa and points beyond. Keverin led Lorcan inside and scanned faces for the innkeeper. There were a good many to choose from. The inn boasted a large common room filled with many round tables and customers sitting at their ease. Most were talking with friends over beer or mead, some of them chatted over a meal of thick broth with fresh bread and butter on the side. Keverin’s stomach grumbled in complaint as the wonderful aroma of good food reached him.
“Can I be of service to you?”
Keverin dragged his eyes away from the food. “Yes, if you are the innkeeper.”
“I am indeed. Evrard is the name. Do you need lodgings, food, baths perhaps?”
“Honoured to meet you, Evrard, I am Keverin. This is my son, Lorcan.”
Lorcan straightened and smiled.
“We do need a place to stay, Evrard, and food too, but...”
Evrard sighed. “You can’t pay. I knew you were going to say that.”
“My son and I are more than willing to work for our supper and a night’s lodging.”
Evrard looked doubtfully at Keverin’s empty shirt cuff.
“I lost it fighting the Hasians.”
“You were at Athione?” Evrard said, suddenly interested. “Is it really as big as they say?”
“Bigger.”
Keverin hadn’t lost his hand at Athione, but he saw no harm in letting the man believe he had. After all, he really had lost his hand fighting the Hasians. What did it matter when the battle occurred, or where?
“Bigger?” Evrard said uncertainly. “You really have been there?”
Keverin nodded. “I served there most of my life, until this happened.” He raised his stump.
“You weren’t turned out, surely?”
“No. Lord Keverin would never do that. A lot of us stayed on, working in the stables, or serving in the citadel.”
“He sounds like a good lord. I’m sorry he died.”
Keverin opened his mouth to say he wasn’t dead yet, but Lorcan’s nudge reminded him not to take the chance. If Evrard thought he lied, he would probably refuse their offer to work for him.
“He was a good lord.”
Evrard rubbed the tip of his nose as he thought. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. You can have a room between you, hot baths, a meal… I’ll even throw in a jug of mead or two, but I want something in return.”
“Go on, I’m listening,” Keverin said warily.
“Your boy can help out in the kitchen, while you tell me all your news of Athione and Lady Julia.”
Keverin grinned. He would never get a better deal than that. Talking about Julia and home was no chore at all. At Lorcan’s sigh, he turned and smiled. He chuckled at the sour look on the boy’ face.
“Done.”
“Good!” Evrard said. “I’ll show you the room, and have the tubs filled. You can tell your story after you’ve freshened up and eaten.”
Keverin nodded and followed Evrard upstairs with a quietly grumbling Lorcan a pace behind him.
* * *
15 ~ Reunited
Keverin refilled his mug with Evrard’s best beer, and raised it for a long drink. It was thirsty work, talking. His audience took the opportunity to order refills too while Evrard looked on happily. The common room had filled steadily with people as the afternoon moved on into evening. Unlike other days, no one had left after a drink or two. To Evrard’s great delight, they lingered to hear more of Keverin’s stories about life in Athione. All his tales were true; he didn’t have to lie. He simply forgot to mention that he was the lord he spoke of, letting them assume he had been one of the many guardsmen witnessing events.
“Is it true the God sent Lady Julia? That she came from the Other World to save Athione from Mortain’s sorcerers?”
Everyone leaned forward eagerly to hear his answer.
Keverin laughed. “That old story again. No, it’s not true... though I’m certain the God smiled on Darius’ efforts to bring her to the fortress that day.” Keverin’s amusement faded as he remembered the death of his old friend. “He must have, or Darius would surely have failed and died for nothing.”
Thoughtful nods spread through the common room.
“Were you there?” another man asked eagerly.
“I was there.”
“Did you see her arrive?” Evrard asked quickly, keeping things going. “They say she appeared in a flash of light so bright, no man dared look upon her.”
Keverin smiled. “Oh they looked. They might have pretended not, but they did.”
Darius had ripped Julia from her world without her consent. To say she arrived unready was a vast understatement. She had been practicing her gymnastics at the time, and had appeared in Athione’s great hall wearing her leotard and a blush. Nothing else.
“There was no flash of light or peel of thunder like the stories tell, not that day. There was lightening, but it came from the portal to Julia’s world, not the sky.”
“Ah...” the crowd murmured in satisfaction.
“And Darius died,” Evrard said. “Did the lightening strike him?”
“No. He sacrificed himself to open the gate. The magic he needed aged him a hundred years before my eyes.” Keverin still felt the sorrow of Darius’ death, undiminished to this day. “Darius was a great man. A powerful mage and honourable beyond reproach. Lord Keverin loved him like a brother.”
And still does.
Keverin lifted his mug and drank to clear the sudden thickness in his throat. The questions moved on to other things, and then back to Julia again. He listened to the current round of rumours without comment until someone said she was back in Deva, fighting to retake Malcor.
Keverin lowered his mug slowly. “Malcor is fallen?”
Evrard nodded. “The Hasian General took it without a fight they say.”
There were grumbles aplenty at that, and nasty comments from all over the room. Jihan didn’t deserve their scorn. Keverin was quick to squelch any notion that he did.
“Lord Jihan is a brave man and an excellent fighter. He is a good friend to Athione. If he abandoned Malcor, he had good reason.”
“What reason?”
“Why would he run?”
“Malcor is huge... thousands of men there... should fight not run...”
“Coward—”
“Jihan is no coward!” Keverin said, raising his voice and glaring at the man who dared disrespect his friend. The hecklers looked down unable to meet the anger in his eyes. He calmed himself with an effort. “Peace, my friends. There could be many reasons to retreat—and before you say anything, retreating is not the same as running. It’s not cowardly to pull back or manoeuvre for advantage, especially not when sorcerers are involved.”
The hecklers nodded. One, the most outspoken among the group, turned to his friends and began explaining Jihan’s tactics as if the insight had been his. Keverin smiled as the man used hand gestures and spilled beer to lay out an imaginary battlefield. Others were of two minds. Some seemed ready to believe the worst, while others felt the King would set matters straight.
“Could be what Jihan’s doing. The King would have his hide else.”
“You think so?”
The tabletop tactician nodded.
“But Lord Keverin didn’t retreat when the sorcerers attacked Athione.”
“That was different,” Keverin protested, breaking into their debate.
“How is it different?” Evrard asked.
“Keverin had no choice but to make a stand and hold Athione. You see, the fortress plugs the pass like a cork in a bottle. We only had to hold one wall; even then, we nearly failed. Without Julia, we would have. Jihan’s fortress is open on all four sides and
the Hasians are three times as many as attacked Athione. General Navarien has brought over two hundred sorcerers with him. I know Lord Jihan would not abandon his home if there had been any other choice. He had none.”
Silence filled the room, broken suddenly by a commotion outside. Evrard frowned and went to investigate. Before he reached the door, it slammed open and guardsmen in the armour of Athione crowded in. Brian was the first inside, followed by faces young and old that Keverin recognised.
He’s changed, Keverin thought, but haven’t we all changed since Julia came? Brian’s eyes swept the common room, and Keverin shivered. There was something in Brian’s eyes, something he last saw in Darius’ eyes the day he died. It was resolve; a grim resolve to do something or die trying. For Darius it had been to bring help to his lord and Athione, but for Brian? Keverin couldn’t begin to guess. The boy Brian had once been had burned away in the fires of battle. In his place stood a man, a battle hardened soldier, who knew his duty and would do it no matter the cost.
“May I help you, Captain?” Evrard said.
Brian ignored him and approached Keverin.
Keverin stood, and Brian’s men snapped to attention, saluting as they did so. Evrard gaped, and whispers erupted from his patrons at the show of respect to one they thought of as merely a retired guardsman.
Brian saluted. “I bring horses and supplies, m’lord. Where is Lorcan? We must away quickly.”
Keverin blinked. Brian seemed unsurprised to find him alive. Did he know about Lorcan’s rescue then? How? “It’s good to see you, Brian. You too Travus… all of you are well come indeed.”
Brian’s men grinned, and mumbled greetings in turn.
“Lorcan, m’lord,” Brian said impatiently. “I know he’s with you.”
“He’s here.” Keverin agreed and turned to Evrard. “If you would bring Lorcan up to our room?”
“I… of course m’lord, but…” Evrard shook his head. “Why didn’t you simply tell us who you were?”
“Would you have believed me?” Keverin didn’t wait to hear Evrard’s answer. “Come, Brian, we need to talk.”
Keverin led his captain to the stairs.
“I’ll bring Lorcan up, m’lord!” Evrard called and Keverin raised a hand in acknowledgement.
Brian paused to look back. “You men get ready to ride. Travus, bring the things Lady Jessica packed, and be quick about it. We have places to be this night.”
“Yes, Sir!” Travus said and shouldered his way out the door.
Keverin frowned at Brian’s orders, but did not question him until they were safely behind the closed door of his room. He quickly began to collect up the few possessions Lorcan had acquired for them”
“Leave that, m’lord. Lady Jessica packed all you and Lorcan will need.”
Keverin looked at the ratty blankets he held and dropped them. They had been precious to him not a candlemark ago, but already they had become worthless. It was amazing how quickly men could adapt to changing circumstance. He was once again a man with resources it seemed.
“My mother knows I’m alive then?”
Brian nodded, but then he frowned. “She had it out of me before I realised…” Brian shook his head slowly as if unsure how that had happened. “I hope I did the right thing.”
“Of course it was the right thing, man! Why shouldn’t you tell her something like that?” Brian’s eyes became wary, and his only answer was a slight shrug of his armoured shoulders. “Did Julia send you to Jessica? Is that how you came there?”
“Lady Julia did not send me—”
A knock sounded and the door opened to admit Lorcan and Travus. Evrard paused at the threshold, uncertain if he should step inside. Keverin solved the problem by taking the innkeeper’s arm and guiding him in. Travus placed the travelling chest he carried at the foot of the bed, and left when Brian waved him out.
“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you, Evrard,” Keverin said closing the door after Travus left. “I haven’t dared tell anyone who I am since… well, since a farmer and his son nearly shot us for trespassing.” Keverin chuckled at the shock on Evrard’s face, and nodded at the doubt he saw there. “It’s true, I assure you. I didn’t want to take the chance of something like that happening again.”
“M’lord…” Brian said impatiently.
“A moment, Brian.”
“But, m’lord, we have little time for—”
“I said give me a moment.”
Brian stiffened and nodded once, sharply.
Keverin watched the young captain’s eyes for a few heartbeats, wondering at Brian’s agitation. He was much changed—more willing to thrust himself forward, and his manner with his men had changed completely. He had grown into his captaincy; that was obvious.
Keverin turned back to the innkeeper. “I want to pay you for your kindness, Evrard.”
“Not necessary, m’lord.”
Keverin smiled, knowing it was. “Lorcan and I have to leave. We can’t complete our bargain. As soon as I can, I will send money—”
“The chest, m’lord,” Brian interrupted. “Your mother insisted on sending a small purse of coin.”
“She did? That was very thoughtful of her. What else did she… no, let me open it and see.”
Keverin bent to open the chest, but the buckles holding it closed needed two hands to loosen. Lorcan realised the difficulty and crouched beside him to help. It pleased Keverin to find the chest contained clothing for Lorcan as well as himself. As well as shirts, trousers, and a spare robe for Lorcan, he recognised his spare set of armour. He found the purse Brian mentioned tucked in the corner. He withdrew a generous three golds, and pressed the coins into Evrard’s hand.
“Thank you for everything. I’ll need the room for a short while longer.”
Evrard bowed. “Take all the time you need, m’lord.”
“Thank you.” Keverin opened the door to let Evrard out, and then closed it after him. He rounded on Brian. “What has you in such an all-fired hurry?”
“There is too much to say and no time to say it. Please, m’lord, you need to dress. Lives and more are at risk.”
And more? What by the God did that mean?
Keverin frowned, and glanced at Lorcan. “Better do as he says, Lorcan. You’ll have to help me with the armour.”
Lorcan nodded, and began pulling out clothes his size from the chest. Jessica had not stinted. Lorcan pulled on a black silk shirt. Keverin kicked of his boots and began undressing.
“I’ll expect answers on the road, Captain.”
“I’ll tell you what I can, m’lord. Please hurry.”
Keverin frowned at Brian’s evasiveness. He trusted his men, all of his men, but it did make him wonder at Brian’s reasons. With Lorcan’s help, it wasn’t long before he once again felt like the Lord of Athione. He missed his sword and his father’s poniard, but Jessica had supplied replacements. The wide-bladed dagger was a spare from his room, but the sword had probably come from the armoury. He couldn’t use a sword any longer. It was just for show. The dagger however, would come in very useful if he needed to fight; did Jessica know about his hand?
“Leave the chest, Lorcan,” Brian said impatiently. “We won’t need it where we are going.”
Lorcan, again the novice mage in his robe, nodded and slammed the empty chest shut. “By the by, it’s good to see you awake, Brian.”
Brian’s stern features softened a little. “Thank you. I’m glad you came through. What you did was very brave.”
Lorcan shrugged, but he looked pleased. “I was lucky.”
Brian led the way downstairs only to find the place packed with people waiting to see Keverin. The news that he lived had travelled faster than the best archer’s arrow could leave his bow. When Keverin appeared on the stairs, excited calls filled the air, asking how he came to be here in Redbridge; were the Hasians near, was Julia? Did the King know he lived, was he coming here too? Keverin raised his hand for quiet and received it after a few moments of exci
ted chatter.
Keverin reached for Lorcan and pulled him to his side. He squeezed the boy’s shoulder comfortingly. “This is Lorcan, my friend and a mage of Athione. He rescued me from General Navarien’s camp. I owe him my life. I don’t know if the King knows I live, but I suspect only those here know.”
Brian nodded.
“I came to Redbridge by chance. Lorcan led me to the road by foot from the plains, so no, the King is not coming here. The Hasians are at Malcor… Evrard, you told me that yourself.”
Evrard nodded. “That I did, m’lord, all know Malcor fell only days ago.”
“My captain has come to escort me back to Julia. Whatever I can do to stop Navarien, I will do when I get there. Now, clear the way, we must make haste.”
A path opened in the crowd leading to the door. Brian took advantage to lead Keverin and Lorcan outside. Travus held a pair of horses ready, while Brian’s other men sat in their saddles ready to go. Including Travus, there were only four guardsmen, and that surprised Keverin. In these times, it made sense to move in numbers for safety, but perhaps Athione needed the men. The thought troubled him. If the fortress could not even supply a score of men to escort her lord, he was in trouble in more ways than one.
Keverin mounted. “Why so many remounts, Brian?”
Lorcan scrambled eagerly into the saddle, allowing Travus to find his own horse. Lorcan loved riding, and he had thrown himself eagerly into his lessons when a clan warrior offered. Darline was of an age with him, and they had become fast friends. Keverin wondered what had become of her. She could be dead now, or she might be fine. There was no telling.
“They’re not remounts, m’lord.” Brian looked back. “We ride east. At the trot, forward!”
The strange column of men and empty saddled horses broke into a trot and they quickly left Redbridge behind. Lorcan used his newly won riding skills to join Keverin and Brian at the head of the column. Keverin rode sandwiched between Brian and Lorcan for less than a league before he realised they were going the wrong way.
“I want answers, Brian.”
“Yes, m’lord. I know.”
Dragon Dawn Page 20
