Red Rowan: Book 3: Return of the Reluctant Hero

by Helen Gosney

  Karl thought about it and nodded.

  “Aye, thank you. Let’s have another try.”

  Rowan disarmed him with no trouble at all and then did it again a couple of minutes later.

  “Better, Karl. That’s better,” he said.

  Karl stared at him in astonishment.

  “Better! How the hell can it be better? You’ve just…”

  “Aye, I have, but it doesn’t matter. I’m not keeping score, are you? Now, you’re nicely warmed up and a hell of a lot looser…” and speaking up a bit too. Good. “So, now… here we are in the first Round of the Trophy, and I’m all that’s standing between you and the next Round. And I’ve not even had to qualify for it like you have, poor pampered flower that I am… so, are you just going to meekly let me stop you, or are you going to put all that hard work you’ve been doing for bloody years to some good use?”

  **********

  Karl still found himself disarmed several times, but now he felt that he’d done a better job. He’d almost managed to forget just who the superbly talented fellow sparring with him was as they decided to have a break. Rowan bent down and retrieved Karl’s sword for the fourth or fifth or sixth time. It didn’t matter.

  “That was a good bout, Karl,” he said as he handed it back again, “Thank you.”

  “No, I must thank you, Rowan. I’ve learnt a lot. I… I think I can see what you were talking about,” Karl said thoughtfully.

  “Good.” Rowan smiled at him, pleased, “You know, I faced Johan Bendtsen in my first Trophy. Not first up, ‘twas a bit further along than that. Johan was the Champion and he was…well, truly, he was probably the best I’ve ever faced, before or since. Anyway, I’d seen a couple of his early bouts and I really thought he’d win the Trophy again, and so did everyone else who had any sense at all. I was only eighteen, a lad from a tiny garrison out in the Woopsies that nobody’d ever heard of… nobody thought I had a chance in hell except my kin and my garrison and, well, I thought they were daft. Well-meaning, but truly bloody daft. I honestly didn’t think I’d win it either. I respected Johan enormously, but all the same I wasn’t frightened of him. I had nothing to prove to anyone… I’d already shown that I deserved my place in the tournament, and I had nothing to lose either,” he shrugged, “If he thrashed me, then he thrashed me… and if he made me look third-rate, well, I’d still live to see another day. And next time I faced him, if ever there was a next time, I’d have learnt a lot and I’d do better. I still mightn’t beat him then either, but… well, I’d do my best. And, Karl, that’s all anyone can do. But to not do your best in the first place is daft. You mightn’t get another chance, and then all that work you’ve put in just to get there will have been for nothing. Nobody gets into the Trophy if they’re not worthy, no matter what folk might say. It simply doesn’t happen. So, you’re as good as any of them until proven otherwise, and you don’t need to be worrying that their reputations might be more impressive than yours. It simply doesn’t matter. Whoever they are, they’ve still got to get the job done and tisn’t the damned reputation that wields the sabre.”

  “And you beat the Champion.”

  “Aye, I did. So who’s to say it won’t happen again? Champions aren’t invincible, or they’d have won the Trophy twice a hell of a lot more times over the years than they’ve managed to.”

  Karl nodded, his face very thoughtful.

  **********

  35. “Just a man, like any other…”

  Thom and Bryn were waiting for Karl to get back from sabre practice, keen to see how their friend had gone. He was a very good swordsman but they thought that he’d probably improve a bit more after training at Den Siddon for a few weeks. Of course, not all of Stefan’s squad would be actually competing in the Trophy, but they were all very good and training with them could only help Karl.

  They’d have gone to the circles to watch, but the Sword Master had turned them back with a friendly but firm, “Sorry, lads. Closed session today. We’ll give the new lads a chance to settle in before everyone’s gawking at them.”

  Karl came into the Mess, looked around, and came over to them.

  “How was it with Red Rowan, Karl?” Thom wanted to know, “Kicked your backside, did he? Pinned your ears back?”

  Karl nodded.

  “Aye, he certainly did, laddie. Both of those. Gods, he’s bloody good. I mean, I knew he would be, he’s the Champion after all, but still… Are you sure he’s just got over a foot injury?”

  “Aye, it’s true. They say he’s a bit slower now, too,” Bryn laughed at Karl’s dismay, “Mind you, I can’t see a lot of difference, but that’s what they say. He still gets the damned job done, and that’s what matters. So, when’s your next bout with him? Tomorrow?”

  “Aye, well, I hope so. Depends if I can get a look-in with all the bloody locals taking up his time,” Karl said. He’d enjoyed the sparring session once Rowan had managed to talk him out of his diffidence and uncertainty, and he couldn’t wait until the next time he got a chance to spar with the Champion. He was certainly going to make the most of the opportunity he’d been given and he’d see that the other lads from Den Bissen did too. He looked at his friends thoughtfully. “You were right, you know…”

  “Oh, aye? Right in what?”

  “Rowan’s nothing like I thought he’d be… well, no, he’s incredible with a blade and he’s so bloody fast and fit and strong, just like I’d thought, but…” Karl frowned as he thought about it, “Well, I don’t know… I know you said he’s not interested in fuss and bother about what he’s done, but I still thought he’d be proud and a bit arrogant, I suppose. He’s got good reason to be, after all… but he’s not at all. Look, I’ve met men who finished in, say, the Round of Sixteen… and they were absolutely full of themselves, but I doubt Rowan’s ever told anyone he’s the Champion,” he shook his head slowly, “He’s bloody blunt, like you said, but he really tries to help you too, tries to put you at your ease. He’s just… well, not like I thought he’d be. He’s… better. I can’t believe how bloody normal he is…”

  “He’s just a man, like any other, he says,” Bryn laughed, “It’s not true, of course, but I doubt that he’d agree with me. He’s a good man; we’re damned lucky to have him here. He doesn’t care what he does about the place…”

  “He was singing the “High Priest” and chopping bloody wood this morning when I met him,” Karl said, still surprised at it.

  “Aye, he likes to keep his hand in with an axe. I’m not sure how keen the Sword Master is about it,” Thom grinned. The Trophy squad often sang rounds of the vulgar song as they exercised and lifted weights. It helped lessen the tedium of the routine as they tried to sing verses the others hadn’t heard. “But he reckons he’d rather face Stefan than his kin anytime, if he forgot how to use an axe.”

  “I don’t think he needs to worry, from what I saw today,” Karl said. Now that he’d met the man behind the legend, he wanted to know more about him. “You were both here when Rowan was Captain, weren’t you?” At his friends’ nods, he said slowly, “What was he like then?”

  “More or less like he is now,” Bryn said, “Messton changed us all, one way or another, but…”

  “No… I didn’t mean that exactly. What was he like as Captain? I mean, I’ve heard the stories, but…”

  Thom and Bryn looked at each other and smiled. Rowan was part of Guard folklore, particularly at Den Siddon, whether he liked it or not.

  “Karl, lad, the stories are true, most of them. But they don’t tell the whole story…” Thom began.

  “Rowan was the best damned Captain either of us have ever served under, Karl,” Bryn said, “Captain Johan was bloody good and so’s Captain Fess, but Red… he was just outstanding. We were only recruits then, but it was obvious even to us.”

  “What do you mean?” Karl was intrigued.

  “Well, he… look, he was only twenty-seven when Captain Johan died, and of course as 2i/c he took interim command of the ga
rrison. The bloody Commandant wasn’t happy, hadn’t been happy with Red being here in the first place, I don’t think. The Gods only know why. The old bugger hummed and hahed for ages before the appointment was finally ratified. If the Trophy hadn’t been so close, maybe he’d have held up the appointment a bit longer or found a way to prevent it, but of course it brought more prestige to the garrison if the Trophy winner was Captain, rather than acting Captain, and the Commandant always was very hot on prestige. ”

  “I hadn’t realised that Rowan was so young at the time…” Karl said, surprised. He was twenty-seven himself, and he couldn’t imagine taking on the responsibility of running any garrison, much less this huge one.

  “Aye, and of course he looked even younger, poor man. Still does,” Bryn shrugged; if one ignored his silver hair, Rowan looked barely older than Bryn did himself. “But we… the whole damned garrison, would have done anything that man wanted us to do. He was just a… a born leader, even though he’s so quiet. Simply outstanding.”

  Karl nodded. Rowan certainly had a quietly effortless charisma and authority about him.

  “So, what was the Commandant’s problem, Bryn? Surely Captain Johan would have had his pick of the entire Wirran Guard for his 2i/c, wouldn’t he?”

  “Aye, of course he would have. He did…” Bryn said, “And he chose Red, even though he was so young… and Red didn’t let him down. He did a fantastic job as 2i/c, and when the Commandant finally realised there simply wasn’t anyone better for the job, he did the same as Captain.”

  “Can’t have been easy if he didn’t have the Commandant’s full support, especially when he was training for the Trophy as well,” Karl frowned.

  “No. By the Gods, the old bastard made it hard for him…” Thom shook his head as he thought about some of the Commandant’s more obvious efforts to undermine his Captain, “Mind you, Red was always respectful and correct with him, but it must have been damned hard for him to bite his tongue. Rumour has it that he walked into the old boy’s office one morning and had words with him. The old bastard was practically chewing the furniture afterwards, they say, and Red came out, cool as you like, and went off to a riding class. Certainly the old bugger pulled his head in a lot more after that.”

  “Really? He had words with the Commandant? He could have ended up in bloody Woop Woop sweeping stables…”

  “Well, I suppose he knew there were no real grounds for the Commandant to do that, but I’ve always thought that Red’s utterly fearless. And maybe he felt he’d put up with enough nonsense and he just had things that he believed needed to be said. He’s bloody blunt, but he’s polite as well… it’s hard to explain…” Bryn shrugged, “He was always correct with the old bugger, as Thom said, and I’m sure he’d have been careful what he said, up to a point. The Commandant would have got the message though.”

  Karl thought about it, and wanted to know more.

  “They say that Rowan can be… um… a bit short-tempered…” he said carefully.

  Thom and Bryn looked at each other and laughed.

  “He doesn’t suffer fools gladly, that’s for sure,” Bryn grinned, “But he certainly doesn’t fly off the handle for nothing, like Captain Joss at Den Kallen.” Joss was notorious for his almost daily rants over very little. His troopers at Den Kallen felt like they were walking on eggshells. “It actually takes a hell of a lot to upset him, but when he does lose his temper, you truly don’t want it to be with you. Remember Kendall Lorrissen, Thom?”

  The two laughed again.

  “He was the old Commandant’s nephew or something, wasn’t he?” Karl said, “They say that Rowan demoted him…”

  “Aye, he did,” Thom replied happily, “Kendall came through the Gate as a Lieutenant. Full of himself, he was, and the Commandant’s nephew into the bargain. He made sure that everyone knew about it, too. And less than half an hour later, he was a Corporal.”

  “Bloody Hells! Rowan doesn’t mess about, does he? What happened, do you know?”

  “Mainly he had a major disagreement with his horse, and he treated it very badly, hurt it badly too, and he did it near Red. A word to the wise, lad - don’t ever do it yourself. Bryn and I were in the stables when he came in, and it happened that Rowan was there too. He was just quietly looking after his stallions like he always did, and we heard this most appalling racket with Kendall beating his horse. Red was furious. He seemed calm, but Gods, he was angry,” Thom smiled at the memory, “He threw me and Bryn out so that he could set Kendall straight privately.”

  “Truly? He didn’t tear strips off him in front of you?” Karl was surprised by this novel approach, then remembered how Rowan had quietly moved him away from the circles to speak with him earlier.

  Thom shook his head.

  “No. That wasn’t the way he did things. He didn’t believe in humiliating folk in public, but he’d certainly tell you what he thought of you in private, and fair enough too.”

  “Gods. I wish a few more Captains had that idea,” Karl said.

  “Aye. It’s part of why he was so respected and so popular with the men. Mind you, there had to be something more to Kendall’s effort than that, I think,” Bryn said thoughtfully, “Red’s a very fair man, and he wasn’t one to hand out punishments unreasonably, so there had to be something else… but we were only recruits, nobody was going to tell us anything. I don’t really know what happened…”

  “Rumours at the time said that Kendall had tried to attack Red,” Thom added, “But… well, you’d have to be bloody daft, wouldn’t you? And he wouldn’t have just been broken back to Corporal, Rowan would’ve kicked his backside out the Gate, Commandant’s nephew or not.”

  “Bloody Hells,” Karl said fervently as he thought about Rowan’s impressive physical stature and his casual weapons expertise – he was a damned Weapons Master, after all. “Even if he wasn’t my C.O. I wouldn’t bloody take him on.”

  “No, me either,” Thom agreed quickly, “He says himself that he’s not one to mess about, and he knows some eyewateringly effective unarmed combat techniques.”

  “Truly?” Karl was fascinated with this insight into the Champion.

  “Oh, aye,” Thom grinned at him, “And I doubt he’s taught them all to anyone. He could cause bloody mayhem in this garrison if he felt like it. It’d probably take the whole damned lot of us to stop him, too.”

  “Ha! Do you remember when Red used to test the defences of the garrison, Thom?” Bryn grinned at Karl’s surprise as Thom laughed.

  **********

  36. “…orders to stop him…”

  Karl had to ask.

  “What do you mean ‘he tested the defences of the garrison’?”

  “When he first came here, he, um… it seems that he mentioned to Captain Johan that he didn’t think much of garrison security. He thought his old Gran would have no trouble at all in getting in and having her evil way with anyone she chose… I’ve always thought I’d like to meet her,” Thom tried not to laugh again at the memory. The stories of Rowan were legion and most of the ones that didn’t involve Messton or Trill were comical.

  Karl’s eyes widened.

  “So what did Captain Johan do?”

  “He decided to see if his new Lieutenant was right. So he had Red locked outside the Gate, with a full Watch on duty with orders to stop him. Not to injure him of course, but otherwise he was fair game…” Thom had to laugh, despite his best intentions, “By the time the Captain got back to his office, Red was on his doorstep waiting for him.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “No. And nobody saw him come in or saw how he did it. It was broad bloody daylight.”

  “Bloody Hells. So how did he do it?”

  Thom and Bryn shrugged.

  “Just up a tree and over the wall, apparently. Seems he didn’t want to get dirty going through the dungeons or the sewers,” Bryn chuckled, “Well, Captain Johan took up the challenge in earnest then. His troops were at least going to keep out a man that they k
new was coming, or he’d know the reason why. After all, if we couldn’t manage that, what hope would we have against an unexpected attack? Not that anyone was dreaming there’d be one, of course.”

  “So tell me more…” Karl was fascinated.

  “The Captain had some trees chopped back and then he stepped up the garrison’s training, lectured us on preparedness and vigilance and complacency, and he beefed up the Watch… the next time Red came over the wall, he ‘killed’ fifteen men and ‘disabled’ a dozen more. Then he sat on the roof of Captain Johan’s office until somebody noticed him.”

  Thom had to take over again as Bryn laughed helplessly.

  “It got to be a game between them, I think. Captain Johan was determined to stop him and they were both determined to get the garrison better prepared and more watchful, more alert. And it built a… a real sense of camaraderie between us all too.” Thom grinned at his friend. “Gods, Rowan was a cheeky bugger. He’d come from bloody nowhere, tap you on the shoulder and say, ‘Sorry, lad. I’ve just cut your throat’, or ‘stabbed you in the back’, or however he’d decided to kill you off. It certainly made you more alert and it made you watch your mates’ backs too. That was the idea, of course. Sheer genius, really.”

  “Did you ever manage to stop him?”

  “No,” Thom shook his head, “After a while he said he thought we could probably stop his Gran, and maybe his sister, but we never did bloody stop him. We finally managed to catch him a couple of times, but…”