by Guy Antibes
Hesting and Pillar took him through thick ironbound oak doors into the primary structure. After passing through a large foyer and past the open double doors twice the size of a man that opened to a large common room, his escorts led him up a flight of stars. No marble faced pillars. No marble stairs. Black iron railing lined the wide stairway to a second floor. Torches supplemented what little light broke into the keep itself through arrow slits and narrow windows.
They stopped at a door flanked by two guards, who stood up straighter when they approached.
“Colonel’s Hesting and Pillar to see Captain Travelwell,” Pillar said.
A guard knocked and entered Travelwell’s office. The guard emerged. “Go right in,” he said holding the door open for them.
Travelwell stood. Anchor admired the captain’s fitness. He had the look of command, but Anchor also noted a wariness in his eyes as he looked at the two Colonels.
“Colonel Hesting and Colonel Pillar. Pillar, congratulations on your promotion. I hadn’t heard.”
But what had Travelwell heard? As the three exchanged introductory pleasantries, Travelwell’s wariness increased. Anchor knew he couldn’t trust the man.
“This is Anchor. He has performed a service to the Duke and to the surviving heir of the Red Kingdom. Duke Jellas has offered him the post of Strategic Adjutant reporting directly to you.”
“Directly to the Duke, you mean,” Travelwell said rather bluntly. “I won’t have him in my command.” The captain narrowed his eyes and peered at Anchor. “Too young to have any kind of experience I could use.”
“I’m sorry, Travelwell, but you don’t have a choice,” Hesting said. “Here are his orders, signed by Duke Jellas himself.” Hesting tossed a large envelope on the captain’s desk and handed another to Anchor. “And your orders, Sub-Captain Anchor.”
A commission? Anchor pursed his lips. He didn’t want to formally be in another country’s service, but after seeing Travelwell’s reaction, an official standing in the keep might be his only way to survive. This ‘favor’ by the duke might be more dangerous than fighting Histron’s guards. He had already accepted and he vowed that he would make the most of it, including weapons training as soon as he was physically able.
He only hoped that enough of the soldiers in the keep were loyal to the duke or he was well and truly lost. A question seemed to have been asked while Anchor thought. Travelwell said something that Anchor didn’t catch. “I beg your pardon, sir Captain?” Anchor said.
Travelwell furrowed his brow. “You need to listen better, sub-captain, if you are to survive at South Keep.”
Listen and stay alert, thought Anchor.
“What have you done?” the captain said.
“I used to work for King Billeas at Foxhome, under the Court Wizard, Unca. He was the king’s chief advisor. I have formulated battle plans, set strategies to put down revolts in various cities and towns, reviewed fortifications and provided my own personal insight as I toured the kingdom.”
“In other words, a toady and a spy,” Travelwell said. “Are you Histron’s man?” It seemed the captain probed to see if Anchor might be an ally.
‘Hardly. I wouldn’t be in Gensler if I were. I recently helped rescue a fine lady about to be kidnapped and returned to my former land.”
“A turncoat, then.”
“If you mean, do I oppose the usurpation of the kingdom? Then yes, I’m a turncoat. I was at Foxhome castle that night and barely escaped with my life. The king and queen did not.”
“You knew the princess then?”
“What call would the princess have to notice a young man such as I?”
“She’s a young woman.”
“You don’t know Princess Sallia, then. She was willful, headstrong, and arrogant. She had only one real interest, herself.”
“Any you risked your life to save her in Everwet, if I heard correctly?”
“I pledged to serve the royal family and she is all that remains of the royal family. As to the identity of the lady that I tried to save, she claimed to be a decoy. What reason is there to doubt her?”
Hesting turned to Anchor. “You didn’t tell us of your background on the way here.”
“See? A charlatan.” Travelwell said.
“I don’t remember you asking, Colonel Hesting. I did tell you of my trip to Happly Keep and the information that I gleaned while there. I did much the same for King Billeas. I also made plain to you both that I am a Red Kingdom man, first and foremost, with my allegiance to the royal family, not to Duke Histron.”
“Anchor is absolutely correct. He’s yours, Travelwell,” Hesting said. “We’ve traveled together for some days and he’s no charlatan, of that I am certain. I have a feel for military men, and Anchor is genuine.”
Anchor nearly winced at the statement. He’d never would think of himself as a military person. He knew strategy and history, but he had no knowledge of how to conduct himself at a military base.
Pillar rose from his chair. “We’ll get him settled. You can introduce him to your officers tonight. We’ll be staying for a few days and inspect the keep as long as we’re here.”
Travelwell scowled and scribbled instructions on a scrap of paper. “Take this to the orderly in the foyer. Your quarters and sub-captain Anchor’s. Now if you will excuse me.”
Hesting stared at Travelwell, who kept his eyes on the paperwork on his desk. “Of course, Captain.” Hesting nodded at Pillar and Anchor followed him out the door.
Once out of earshot of the guards, Hesting stopped. “Anchor, your orders give you permission to take over the keep on the Duke’s authority any time you feel it necessary. I would have run Travelwell through with my sword just now if I had any sense. Such insubordination.”
Pillar nodded.
“You trust me more than him? We’ve—”
“We’ve just spent two weeks on the road with you. I can judge the character of a man in that period of time. You’ll find it a challenge, but consider it an order to prepare to run the keep while you serve Travelwell. Come, let’s see what kind of quarters Travelwell has assigned you.”
~
Anchor’s shoulder began to ache as he continued to spar with one of the keep’s soldiers. The healers did a wonder on his injury and now he just grit his teeth and practiced through the pain at certain movements. Travelwell rarely called him in for assistance and that gave Anchor more time to investigate the state of the men.
His daily sparring allowed him to more discretely assess the loyalties of the soldiers. The keep held three hundred rankers and about twenty officers. He estimated that twenty percent of the soldiers were personally loyal to Travelwell, but from what he could tell, the officer corps split fifty-fifty. Those were easier to gauge. Travelwell’s men kept to themselves. At most meals in the officers’ mess, he could almost draw a line between the two. Anchor had tried to sit with the Travelwell group, but had been frozen out.
With no specified duties, Anchor stood at the top of the ramparts looking south towards the Red Kingdom. A loyal lieutenant stood with him.
“The weather is turning warm and you are getting better with that foreign sword,” Lieutenant Rallen said.
“I agree,” Anchor said. In the distance he noticed a bird flying towards the keep from the south. “I have to leave you to your warmth, Lieutenant. I think I have something to do” He ran down the steps and towards the bird coop adjacent to the stables. Anchor wanted to see what message a bird from the Red Kingdom might carry.
He hustled his way to the coop and retrieved the message before anyone had an opportunity to check the bird. He carefully removed the message addressed to Travelwell.
“Duke’s demise soon. Prepare to open gates to friends.”
The bird keeper could be along at any time and count birds. He couldn’t afford for the message to reach Travelwell. Anchor twisted the bird’s neck and put the body under his coat. He walked to the jakes and tossed the bird down into the fetid depths.
> He hadn’t expected an assassination attempt against Duke Jellas and sought out Sergeant Lunkin. The man sat in the kitchen talking to one of the scullery maids.
“Lunkin, I need a word,” Anchor said and pulled the man out of the kitchen.
“A bird from the south flew in with this message. You need to send this along to the Duke immediately.”
Lunkin’s eyebrows rose as he read the message and saw Travelwell’s name on the other side. “The time has nearly come,” the sergeant said.
Anchor nodded his head. “The ‘time’ will occur when Travelwell’s ‘friends’ arrive.” He would soon be testing out his hard-won skill with a sword as soon as that message had been sent from birds that Hesting had left in the village. Lunkin and he had already established a plan with Lt. Rallen. Rallen and Anchor would neutralize the officers and Lunkin would establish a loyal chain of command among the rankers.
He watched Lunkin run over the bridge and into River Red before he returned to the sparring ground for his afternoon workout. He fought off the temptation to ride to Crackledown. Anchor would have to rely on the Duke to avert his assassination and the recapture of Sallia.
~~~
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
~
“YOU ARE MUCH TOO FORWARD, MORIO,” Sallia said. She pushed his hands off of her arms.
“But I love you.”
Sallia laughed. “You love yourself much, much more.” Crackledown presented so many facets, but Morio’s attentions were well-intentioned on his part, but not welcome.
Duke Jellas entered the family sitting room. Sunlight streamed in, but didn’t reach the duke. He spoke from shadows and Sallia felt exposed as he talked. She classified her relationship with the duke as cordial, but the man seemed to be constantly pre-occupied.
“Morio. I have received a bird from Valetan. Lotto is returning to Gensler and will meet you in ten days at Harveston with your pack of rogues. You will need to leave presently with your band of misfit rangers.”
“But the princess and I… ”
The Duke walked into the light. His stern expression would have put fear into Sallia had it been directed at her. “There is no ‘princess and I’. There is the princess, here and there is you, on the way to Harveston. Go now.”
Morio left the room and nearly slammed the door.
Duke Jellas laughed. “Naughty boy. He always was my first wife’s favorite. I’m sure you can see why. Women are often enamored of rogues.” The duke colored. “Oh. I didn’t mean you, your highness.”
Sallia had to smile, if only to communicate that she did understand what he meant. “You don’t have to worry about me enamored about that one. He’s a nice man, but not for me.”
The duke relaxed and sat down behind a desk. “Sit, my dear. How do you fare at Crackledown? We haven’t really talked for weeks.”
“I miss the Red Kingdom. I miss Unca, my father’s wizard.” Even though it was well into summer, Sallia worried about Unca. “The Red Kingdom lies dormant in this winter of usurpation. I don’t know when the political spring will arrive, but I yearn for it. Until then, I am happy here as much as I could be except for one place.”
“How poetically put, and where is that?”
“Unca had a holding close to Sally’s Corners. The northern boundary extended into the hills and might have even bordered Gensler. I…” Sallia stopped for a moment to sort through a flood of thoughts and emotions tied up to her experiences with Willow and Unca. “I learned much while I stayed there. Lessons that most princesses never learn.” She had to look out of the window to avert Duke Jellas’s gaze.
“And I’d take you to wherever that is myself, if I could dear princess, but you fled from there and its no longer safe. Perhaps once you’ve taken back your throne.”
“Perhaps.” Sallia said, thinking of much more that a single word reply. How could she go back? If the duke restored her to the throne, how could a queen live in Unca’s house? No. She’d probably never return, no matter what happened, and the prospect saddened her. She took a deep breath and held back a sob or two. “And in the meantime, I’m under your charming protection, Duke.”
“As long as you wish. Now, I’ve also just received a dispatch from South Keep. Your friend, Anchor serves me there.”
“Anchor?” Sallia said. “Oh, the man who helped Lotto.”
“Yes. He has just sent me a warning about unrest in the keep and that disturbance is related to imminent issues I face at Crackledown.”
“Dangers?”
“Indeed. I had a specific reason for this chat. All may seem idyllic in the castle, but we are as burdened with politics as I’m sure you were at Foxhome. I’m afraid that your safety might be compromised, after all.”
“Duke Histron—” Sallia said.
“And I have my own challenges, although I won’t let them progress too much further. I have taken the precaution of installing another bell pull in your chambers on the opposite side of the fireplace. It is the red one, for the Red Kingdom, I suppose.” The duke gave her the ghost of a smile. “It rings my personal guard. If anything untoward happens in your rooms, please use it to summon help. I’d also carry a knife or other weapon on your person at all times in the keep.”
“Are you under siege?” Sallia said, glancing out the window. Her feelings of security had just vanished, replaced by a hollow fear.
“In a sense, but I won’t allow it to continue for more than a week or two. I am serious in this request, Princess Sallia. There are those who are not loyal to me in the castle and I work so that matters will be presently resolved. In the meantime, humor me and do as I suggest. Of course, a suggestion only.”
“I will do as you say, Duke. With Morio goes my escort into town and perhaps it’s a good time to catch up with my reading. I can do that in my rooms.” If the crisis were only a few weeks, Sallia would be happy to comply with the duke’s wishes. She wondered if the disloyal subject meant Eberlo, the chamberlain. Sallia didn’t like the man. She remembered those words in Everwet about Duke Histron’s man running Gensler. It wasn’t true, but Eberlo had much responsibility within the duchy. She recalled that the commanding officer at the keep where Anchor had gone was ‘his man’. Could Anchor be in the same danger? She hoped not. She hardly knew Anchor, but wished him well.
The duke rose from his seat and bowed to Sallia. “Is there a book from this room that you’d like to read? Pick what you’d like and I’ll personally escort you to your rooms.”
~
Despite the thick walls of Crackledown, Sallia slept fitfully in the warmth of the room. The fire had been made too large. She threw off her covers and tried to snuggle her pillows for more comfort. The moon let in a shard of light and the room made sounds that now shattered all attempts at sleep.
She frowned and tried to lie as still as possible unsuccessfully commanding her mind to wander into dreams. A creaking sent a shiver down her spine. Could someone be entering her sitting room? She reached under a pillow and pulled out a long dagger, left unsheathed beneath the silken cloth. Sallia clutched the knife in her hand, startled when it reflected the moon’s light. She quickly put it to her side. The intruder might see the shining as well. She lay back with her eyes wide open trying to will her body still.
She heard a whisper of something sliding along the carpet in her room. The assassin had closed within feet of her. She nearly cried out as moonlight painted the shape of a figure, darkly dressed, slowly moving towards her bed. Sallia held the knife steady at her side. She refused to be captured and yearned for this trial to end quickly. She squinted her eyes so that it might appear she slept.
Suddenly a waft of ale and garlic assaulted her nose. Her eyes flew open and she thrust her knife deep into the intruder’s stomach. A strong odor assaulted her sense of smell as a pad of cloth struck a glancing blow to her forehead as it dropped to the bed. She grabbed the handle of her knife with her other hand and ripped up until the ribcage stopped her own assault.
“Bit
ch princess,” were the last words of the assassin as she sensed the man fall on top of her. A different stench filled the air and she felt the warmth of the man’s internal fluids empty onto her body. Now she could scream and scream she did as she cast off the assassin and ran to pull the red cord.
Within moments, torches and a lantern illuminated the grisly scene. Sallia scrabbled against the wall, as the impact of her deed slammed into her mind ripping unbidden emotions from their hiding places. She began to cry as women hurried into the room and began to wipe away the blood and worse.
More torches entered the room with Duke Jellas. His own robes were stained with the same red color as her nightgown.
“Assassins in the night. They visited my rooms as well. My men and I killed all six. Only one?” the duke said, dryly. His bloodshot eyes spoke of anger in the middle of the night. Duke Jellas nearly swayed on his feet. Sallia thankfully sat.
“This man was no assassin, Lord. He carried a potion to knock her out. The princess thwarted an abduction.
“Thank the gods, I killed him.” Sallia said, shivering. Anger began to dry up the tears. “I’m glad I did. Others have fought for me. The time had come for me to fight for myself.”
“You performed admirably. Quite as well as my tiny horde,” the duke said. He looked down at Sallia’s assailant. “I know this man.” He nodded to three of the soldiers. “This is man is part of Eberlo’s guard. Take twenty men and bring Eberlo along with any loyal to him to me into the assembly room. I will issue quick judgment against those who would take up arms against me.”
“May I come?” Sallia said. She rose and a lady in waiting threw a robe around her. “I will not sleep again this night.”
“As you wish. Might I suggest a change of clothes?” The duke left the room. Guards removed the body only to be replaced by servants who began to wash the carpet and strip the bed linens.
