by Stuart Daly
‘He’s still hanging on to that thing?’
Caspan grinned. ‘And still playing his bagpipes. Or rather, still trying to play his bagpipes.’
‘I can’t believe he hasn’t given up on them yet.’
‘I think he delights in annoying everyone too much.’
‘So there’s been no improvement in his playing?’ Lachlan asked.
Caspan shook his head. ‘No, he still sounds worse than a flatulent cow.’
Lachlan roared with laughter as the boys stepped aside to allow a group of guards through before walking across the battlements. ‘The past few weeks have taken an eternity to pass,’ Lachlan muttered as he paused by a crenellation and looked across the rooftops of the sprawling city. ‘It’s been so frustrating, being cooped up in here, whilst the rest of you have been off fighting.’
Caspan cocked an eyebrow warily at him. ‘It hasn’t been all fun and games.’
‘You think I don’t know that?’ Lachlan sighed. ‘But I wish I could’ve been there to help. When the first messenger raven arrived yesterday, informing us that the Battle of the High Coast was about to begin, I felt like summoning Talon and flying over there to join you. But Arthur wouldn’t hear of it, so I went down to the training yard and took my anger out on one of the pells. I imagined it was an army of giants. After two minutes I was so tired I could barely lift my sword.’ He gave Caspan a wounded look. ‘Fat lot of good I’d be on the battlefield at the moment, having to stop every few minutes to take a breather.’ He stared back across the rooftops. ‘Later in the evening the next message arrived, telling us that the Roon fleet had been defeated.’ He glanced at Caspan. ‘What was it like?’
Caspan shrugged. ‘Not much different to the past few fights we’ve been in, only on a much larger scale.’ Then he told Lachlan all about the battle. The muscular boy smiled proudly when he heard of Caspan’s plan to drop incendiary bladders on the Roon ships. But when Lachlan learnt what had happened to Bandit, his features darkened.
‘How’s Roland holding up?’ he asked.
The boys warmed themselves by one of the fires in the iron braziers. The dawn had held the promise of a sun-filled day, but heavy grey clouds had rolled in from the west and now blanketed the sky. Caspan expected it might start snowing within the hour. He leaned against a merlon and peered across the city, mentally charting a course across the rooftops. He caught himself and smiled wryly, surprised that the instincts he had honed during his time with the thieves guild in Floran, the Black Hand, were still second nature to him.
‘He’s doing okay, but he’s not his normal self,’ Caspan replied. ‘He has a lot of pent-up anger, and doesn’t have much patience for a lot of things.’
‘Which is only to be expected, given what he’s going through.’
Caspan turned to Lachlan. ‘And how are you? You look fit enough.’
‘Yeah, but looks can be deceiving.’ Lachlan rested his elbows on a merlon and cradled his chin miserably in his hands. ‘I walk every day and train on the pells, but it leaves me exhausted. I’ve never felt so weak, Cas. It’s as if the Dray armband we found beneath Tor O’Shawn drained the life out of me. I’m recovering, but at this rate it’s going to take forever before I’m back to normal.’
‘Just be patient,’ Caspan said sympathetically. ‘You’ll get there. The last time I saw you, you barely had the strength to walk, let alone train with a sword.’
Lachlan sighed and flexed the gloved fingers of his right hand, as if willing the strength to flow back into them. ‘That’s what I keep telling myself, but it seems like the war will be over before I leave this castle. King Rhys took pity on me and invited me to attend one of his military councils. But other than that, this –’ he motioned to the courtyard with a wave of his hand ‘– is all I’ve got to look forward to every day. Talon and I are bored out of our brains. Arthur won’t even let us go for a ride. I have dizzy spells, and he’s afraid I’ll fall off.’
‘He’s only being cautious.’
‘There’s a fine line between being cautious and over-protective, if you ask me.’ Lachlan’s shoulders slumped. ‘The other day I summoned Talon down in the courtyard and scared the wits out of a group of serving maids. They complained to the guards and I was called into the Captain’s office. I assured him that Talon wouldn’t hurt a hair on anybody’s head, but he said people were terrified of him and that I wasn’t to summon him in the royal precinct again. I’ve got no choice now but to call upon Talon in my private quarters. The poor thing; he can barely move without knocking something over.’ He regarded the magical Dray armband attached to his forearm. ‘I wish I’d never put this thing on in the first place.’
‘We’d all be dead if you hadn’t,’ Caspan replied sombrely. ‘It won’t come off?’
Lachlan shook his head and smiled softly. ‘It’s attached tighter than Roland clinging to the final sausage at a banquet.’
Caspan smirked, glad that Lachlan could still make light of his predicament.
The smile faded from Lachlan’s lips. ‘I feel like a caged animal; I can’t wait to join the war.’ He looked at Caspan grimly. ‘But after what happened at the Pass of Westernese yesterday, I might never get a chance.’
‘So you know about the defeat?’
‘It’d be hard not to, given that I’ve been confined to the royal precinct,’ Lachlan replied. ‘It’s been all the talk since a raven arrived last night. It was strange. One minute everybody was celebrating your victory at the High Coast; the next there was widespread panic in the streets and a steady flow of people heading south, running for their lives.’ He ran his left palm over his armband. ‘But I won’t run. I’ll meet the giants here and give them the shock of their lives.’
Caspan’s eyes narrowed with concern. ‘You wouldn’t activate the armband again?’
‘I’ll do whatever it takes, Cas.’
‘But it almost killed you!’
Lachlan shrugged and squared his shoulders boldly. ‘Like I said; I’ll do whatever it takes.’ He forced a smile. ‘Enough talk of war. I’m sure you’ve seen enough of it to last you a lifetime.’ He gave a mysterious smile at the sound of approaching footsteps. ‘On a happier note, here’s somebody you’ll be delighted to see.’
‘I hope he’s referring to me,’ said a familiar voice.
Caspan turned to find Gramidge hurrying across the battlements, his arms held wide, ready to embrace him.
‘Gramidge!’ Caspan beamed, barely believing his eyes as he was swept into the steward’s bear-like hug. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Arrived two days ago, I did. Not even a hundred wild stallions could have kept me away from the capital once I heard Lachlan was here.’ Gramidge stepped back and inspected Caspan. ‘Now, let me check you’re all in one piece. Battles have a tendency of stealing limbs from people. Two arms, two legs, a torso, a neck and head. Yes, everything seems in place.’
Caspan grinned.
‘And your friends and their Wardens?’
In spite of his gruff appearance, Gramidge had a soft heart. Caspan didn’t want to worry him unnecessarily by telling him what had happened to Bandit. For all he knew, the manticore would make a full recovery and soon be dining alongside his fellow Wardens at a celebratory feast back in the Great Hall at the House of Whispers. That was, of course, if King Rhys’s armies managed to defeat both the Roon and Roy Stewart’s highlanders.
‘They’re all fine,’ Caspan replied, uncomfortable with lying to his friend, but believing it was for the best. He felt less guilty when Lachlan gave him a furtive nod of approval.
The steward exhaled a relieved breath and smiled from ear to ear. ‘I’m glad to hear it. Been worried sick, I have. Barely been able to sleep a wink since I heard you’d all gone off to defend the High Coast. And poor Lachlan – injured by that thing he put on his arm. That’s why I came here, to keep an eye on him.’
Lachlan clapped Caspan on the shoulder. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I might use this as an opportunity t
o return to my quarters. I forgot to take my medicine this morning. Arthur will skin me alive if he finds out.’
Caspan smirked. ‘Your secret’s safe with me.’
‘Now, you’ll be there in ten minutes, won’t you?’ Gramidge asked Lachlan. ‘Remember, you did promise. One final attempt.’
‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ Lachlan replied as he made his way across the battlements. He glanced over his shoulder at the steward. ‘I take it you’ll be recruiting a certain individual to help us?’
Gramidge tapped the side of his nose. ‘All in good time. Now, don’t forget.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll be there.’
‘What’s all this about?’ Caspan asked the steward as he watched Lachlan descend the stairs back to the courtyard.
Gramidge shrugged. ‘Oh, nothing special. At least, it’s nothing you need to worry about.’
Caspan cast a suspicious eye at the steward. He was about to ask what sort of mischief he and Lachlan were up to and, more importantly, how it would involve him, when Gramidge blurted, ‘Ah, but it’s good to see you, Cas.’ His look became sombre and he sighed. ‘I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about Lachlan. He’s a bit down in spirits at the moment. I do my best to keep him distracted and entertained, but he says it’s like being locked inside a prison cell in here. It’s a good thing you came by to visit. It means a lot to him.’
Gramidge smiled cheerfully and hooked an arm around Caspan’s shoulder as they walked along the parapet. ‘And he’s not the only person who’s glad you’re here. You see, there’s a little problem I’ve been trying to fix. And you’ll be perfect for the job. Lachlan’s been helping, but with you – well, the task’s as good as done.’
‘What is it?’ Caspan asked, wondering if the steward had transported his skeps with him to the capital and needed help extracting the honey.
‘Rats.’
Caspan stopped and stared deadpan at the steward. ‘Rats?’
‘That’s right – rats.’
‘I don’t like the sound of this …’
Gramidge tilted his head in a curious manner. ‘I’m surprised to hear that.’
‘Oh?’
‘Well, you spent half your life with the Black Hand in Floran’s sewers. You can’t tell me you didn’t come across the odd rat down there.’
Caspan thought back to the dark, fetid labyrinth of tunnels beneath Floran’s cobbled streets, and the vermin that infested it. Some were as large as feral cats, with incisors that gleamed like stilettos in the darkness. They didn’t scurry away when approached, but reared on their hind legs, bared their fangs and hissed. In spite of the folktales, Caspan had never heard of anybody being killed by the rats, though they did spread disease. He’d seen fellow thieves laid low by a single bite.
‘I’ve met more than just a few, but it doesn’t mean I like them,’ he said.
‘Then that makes two of us – three, actually, if we include Lachlan.’ Gramidge leaned in close to Caspan’s ear. ‘Between you and me, nothing scares me more than rats. They’re worse than spiders, and that’s saying something. There’s something about their whip-like tails and their beady little eyes that makes my skin crawl. Disgusting creatures, they are, scurrying about in the dark and getting up to all sorts of mischief. Urgh!’ He shivered and rolled up his sleeve to reveal his forearm. ‘Take a look at this! I’m covered in goosebumps at the mere thought of them.’
‘So what am I being dragged into exactly?’
‘It’s nothing too serious,’ Gramidge said. ‘Just a slight territorial dispute I need your help to resolve.’
‘With rats?’
Gramidge nodded. ‘They’ve overtaken a section of the King’s cellar. Normally it wouldn’t be an issue, but they’ve built their nest right next to a particular keg of cider I’m keen to get my hands on.’
Caspan was glad to help the steward – it would be a welcome distraction from the war. ‘So you’re hiring me as your bodyguard?’
‘You could put it like that. And if we succeed, you’ll be rewarded with a tankard of the most amazing cider you will have ever tasted. Now, I bet that’s caught your interest.’
Caspan laughed heartily. ‘Okay, count me in.’
Gramidge smiled. ‘Good, now let’s get started. We’ll make our way down there and wait for Lachlan outside the cellar door.’
The steward led the way across the battlements and ushered Caspan inside a tower. Gramidge took a lit lantern from the wall, and they descended a spiralling flight of stairs. They passed through a nail-studded door at the end and walked along a broad corridor, its walls lined with tapestries.
‘The King won’t mind?’ Caspan asked, his voice and footfalls echoing along the passageway. ‘We’re not going to get into trouble?’
‘I’ll lay King Rhys across my knee and give him a good old smack on the backside if he objects. He might be the ruler of the kingdom, but that’s no excuse for poor manners. Remember that I served as a steward here before I headed over to manage the House of Whispers, or Hampton Hall as it was known back in those days. I’ve known the King my entire life.’ Gramidge brushed his fingers along a window ledge, a wistful expression on his face. ‘I know every inch of this place as well as the back of my hand. There are over sixty rooms in the castle, and that’s not including the cellar, which, I should add, the King’s let go to rack and ruin. I have a right mind to give him a good old smack just for the way he’s let it go. Honestly – some of the ciders stored down there are worth more than this castle. And now they’re covered in spiderwebs and have rats sleeping all over them.’ He shuddered and showed Caspan his arm. ‘You see – goosebumps again. This is intolerable!’
He stopped outside a door and led Caspan down another spiralling staircase. ‘This will lead us straight to the cellar,’ Gramidge said, his voice lowered. ‘Best we keep the noise to a minimum from here on. We don’t want the rats to hear us and ruin our element of surprise.’
Caspan nodded and suppressed a wry smile. He felt as if he was part of an elite covert operation, deep behind enemy lines. This feeling was amplified when they emerged from the stairwell and found Lachlan waiting for them by the cellar door. Caspan tried hard not to laugh.
Lachlan wore a chainmail vest, metal greaves and a conical helmet over a thick leather hood. A lantern hung from his belt and he held a mop in a two-handed grip.
Caspan looked at Gramidge warily. ‘Just exactly how big are these rats?’
‘Big enough,’ he said, handing Caspan a mop. ‘There you go. You’re all set.’
Caspan frowned as the steward untied a sack near the door and pulled out pieces of armour, which Lachlan helped him put on. ‘So I don’t get anything to wear?’
Gramidge glanced up from strapping on his greaves. ‘You won’t need it. You’re going in stealth, so it would only slow you down. The plan is for Lachlan and me to take care of the rats. While we distract them, your job is to go into thief-mode, sneak around behind them, find the keg and lightfoot it out of there. What do you think?’
‘Thief-mode?’ Caspan asked, wondering what he’d got himself dragged into. Gramidge nodded enthusiastically. ‘Just smashing.’
‘Hopefully we won’t smash anything in there. Some of these ciders are worth their weight in gold. The particular one we’re looking for is stored against the rear wall. It’s in a keg about this big.’ Gramidge held out his hands, indicating its size. ‘And it’s marked with a bright red X just above the tap. You can’t miss it.’
Caspan smirked. ‘You really want it, don’t you?’
‘Do you think we’d be going to all this trouble if I didn’t? It’s the final keg of Lip Smacker.’
Caspan chortled. ‘Lip Smacker? Let me guess: it’s one of your homebrews?’
Gramidge’s eyes glistened excitedly. ‘That’s right. But it’s not just one of my homebrews. It’s the finest I’ve ever made. I crafted it over two decades ago, but I cannot for the life of me remember the ingredients. I wrote the
recipe down somewhere, but I’ve been searching for years and can’t find it. That’s why we’ve got to save it. It’d be a crime to just leave it in there, rotting away, with rats all over it.’
‘So this is a rescue operation,’ Caspan whispered.
‘Spot on. And the most important one you’ll ever go on. All those relics you go searching for might be important, but the quest for Lip Smacker goes well beyond that.’ Gramidge pulled on a mail vest, gripped his mop and glanced at Lachlan. ‘We don’t want a repeat performance of what happened yesterday.’
‘It didn’t go down well?’ Caspan asked.
Lachlan grinned. ‘You can say that again. We were swarmed and overwhelmed.’
Gramidge gave him a reprimanding slap across the shoulder. ‘I don’t know what you’re smirking about. We barely made it out alive. I even had a rat crawl up my trousers, of all places.’
‘It was terrible,’ Lachlan added, hiding his grin behind his sleeve.
Gramidge gave the large treasure hunter a reproachful look. ‘Remember, we don’t want to anger the rats. The last thing we want is a full-scale battle on our hands. Things could get very messy. All we need to do is distract them long enough for Caspan to sneak around behind them. Besides, I could never bring myself to hurt an animal. I won’t have any of you committing violent acts when under my command.’
Lachlan gave the steward an incredulous look. ‘But they’re rats!’
‘And they’re guarding the final keg of Lip Smacker!’ Caspan added with a smirk. ‘Don’t forget that.’
‘They can’t help that they’re rats,’ Gramidge replied pointedly. ‘How do you think you’d feel if you’d been born a rat? Imagine it: living in disgusting sewers, eating rubbish that not even a … well, a rat would eat. It would be enough to drive you crazy.’ He wiggled a finger at the boys. ‘You see, it puts it all into perspective when the glove’s on the other hand, doesn’t it?’
Lachlan frowned. ‘Don’t you mean when the boot’s on the other foot?’
