Scrivener's Tale

by Fiona McIntosh

  She smirked. ‘I can cope with that for a bell or two. Let’s not get noticed by Father Cuthben. Move quickly once we get to the top of the stairs. We’ll have to go past the crypt, but it doesn’t have a view of anything but legs passing on the stairs from memory. It’s so deep, you see. The stairs lead into the back of the cathedral by the great altar. Don’t run,’ she whispered. Then smiled. ‘We’re pilgrims remember. Saunter down the nave — separately. I’ll meet you at the front doors.’

  They nodded.

  ‘Hey!’ said a voice from the other side of the pool of water. ‘Who are you?’ He began to call to men above.

  ‘Oh, Shar. It’s the cathedral guard. I’d forgotten,’ Florentyna hissed.

  ‘How many?’ Cassien growled.

  ‘Six permanent.’

  ‘I hope they’re expendable.’

  ‘What?’ she said, looking at him in alarm.

  ‘No-one can know we’ve come through here. No-one. Gabe, as soon as you can, get the queen up those stairs.’

  ‘How? They’re —’

  ‘I’ll make it possible. Just do it. They mustn’t see her face or make any connection. Understand? Now behind me, you two. Florentyna, hide yourself. No-one must know the queen is here.’

  The man was coming towards them and other men followed behind him.

  ‘Cassien, don’t kill,’ Florentyna urged.

  ‘Too late,’ he murmured. ‘It’s what I’m trained to do when your life’s threatened.’

  Gabe dragged the queen into the shadows. The cistern was huge and they had the advantage of the pond of water that separated them from the cathedral guard. However, the stairway to safety and freedom was blocked by the guards.

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘No-one,’ Cassien said. ‘Lost pilgrims.’

  ‘No-one’s allowed down here. I don’t know how you even got here through our security.’

  ‘It was a mistake,’ Cassien replied. ‘We will leave.’

  ‘You’re coming with us.’

  ‘I don’t think so. I want no trouble, sir, but you will force it, if you persist.’

  The guard laughed. ‘You’re no pilgrim. You’re hiding something. Take him.’

  Cassien drew his sword and everyone paused.

  ‘There are six of us,’ the man reminded him. ‘Are you sure you want to die?’

  ‘Do you?’

  The guard sighed. ‘Do not hurt the woman unless she draws a weapon. The other two can be killed if they resist.’

  ‘Wait!’ the queen said, stepping forward.

  ‘She can die too, if she doesn’t submit. I might even let you have some time with her,’ the guardsman joked with his companions.

  ‘I take it back, Cassien,’ Florentyna said, her voice sounding like ice splinters. ‘Do what you must.’

  Cassien leapt. They were not expecting such a daring move. He swooped among the rafters of the low roof, swinging agilely in a disorderly pattern so none could pin him down. He took out the first man with a heel to his jaw before any of the guards had even drawn their weapons. The man dropped like a stone into the water. The second was felled by a circular swing of the sword as he landed, cleaving the man almost in half. He heard Florentyna gag in the distance, but he was losing himself now. He had trained for this. Flesh felt different to straw, but he would ponder that later.

  Two men surged towards him. Cassien spun one way high; that man blocked, but Cassien then spun so fast and low that he took him at the knees and the man went down screaming. The other was already swinging, but Cassien had anticipated this and had reached for the blade at his back. The blade buried itself into the man’s groin. Cassien stood, wrenching away his blade. Two remained. They backed up a little. He took the opportunity to finish off the guard, who’d near enough had his legs chopped off at the knees. The moans stopped. He wanted no further help to come running.

  Four were now dead. He wiped his blades clean on one of them.

  ‘I would have spared your lives if you hadn’t threatened rape. What would your queen think?’

  ‘Frigid Florentyna?’ the head guard said. ‘She could use a good seeing to.’

  Cassien blinked. He didn’t need to look the queen’s way to know how well that crude remark must have gone over.

  ‘Let’s not waste time, gentlemen. I’m now between you and the stairs. There’s no getting away, so you might as well chance your arms. Gabe, take her.’

  He could hear his friends shuffling around the walking ledge that surrounded the waterway, towards the stairs.

  ‘Over my dead body,’ the guard threatened.

  ‘That would be a pleasure,’ Cassien said and stepped into the man’s swinging blade arc.

  He fought them both at once, aware that Gabe and Florentyna had disappeared up the stairs safely. This pair was a better outfit. They were putting up a good fight; Cassien knew he must finish them fast. The sound of clanging swords would surely come to some sharp ear. He wanted to be gone from here.

  ‘Go around, Jof,’ the head guard growled, parrying another blow.

  He readied himself to perform a challenging move that he’d nicknamed ‘the crux’. Loup had approved. It required inordinate strength and he’d spent many moons perfecting it, developing the core power required to explode with energy in two opposing directions. It needed precision, so these cramped, low-roofed spaces, where he had to duck stone pillars and water, made it a less than ideal place. Now, the two men were both stepping back and circling him. He had no choice and the crux could kill two at once.

  ‘You are good,’ the leader said, ‘but you are going to die. We’ll find your companions. I know what he looks like; are you brothers, perhaps? The girl will follow him. We’ll punish her properly.’

  ‘Well, then, I’ll just have to kill you like the others,’ Cassien shrugged, dropping his sword, leaving only one of the blades held ready. He centred. Focus!

  Both men laughed, assuming it had been an accident the blade slipping from his sweaty hand. ‘Not like that you won’t,’ Jof baited.

  They pounced as one, and in a fluid action that to an observer might have appeared to be a dance movement, Cassien crouched and drew his second short blade and using the power that his bent knees gave him, he thrust himself up and out, his arms and legs forming the crux shape.

  It was a cruel, powerful, athletic move. Cassien’s intensive training had prepared him better than any others to perform it and, despite all the conditions that said otherwise, he formed a low but perfect cross. His feet kicked out so hard and so perfectly positioned that both connected with the bellies of the rushing men, their swords held high, their bodies open to such punishment if the timing was exquisite … and it was.

  They were both predictably winded by the blow to their guts, but the moment of agony was lost to a new sensation when their collapsing bodies brought them closer to Cassien’s knives — he seemed to hold himself longer in the air than seemed possible. The vicious blades punched into the exposed throats of his two attackers.

  Wet, gurgling sounds of death accompanied his soft, balanced landing. Cassien took a moment to draw breath, surveying his horrible work as he murmured the Prayer of Sending. He was not proud of it, but he nodded to himself, acknowledging that he had lived up to the promise of his training and to his duty as a member of the Brotherhood. He had kept his sovereign safe.

  He wished six bodies were not around as clues for the demon, but the waters were not deep enough and he had no time to plan how to conceal them. Getting away cleanly had always been a wish, rather than a given. A last breath was heard being sucked in and expelled … the sixth died. Cassien was satisfied. They may be clues — but to what, the demon would not know.

  Cassien took a few more moments to wash himself of the blood that he could feel spattered on his face and hands. He was glad of the dark clothes he wore — Fynch had chosen well, it seemed. He dampened his hair, running his hands through it to be sure no telltale blood spots had been trapped, before he tore
a sleeve from the shirt of one of the fallen. Again he took the extra time to be meticulous in drying his face and hands. He cleaned the blades and returned them to their sheaths, all the while calming his breathing, his heartbeat. He must walk upstairs looking composed and hope the dead were not found until he and Florentyna were long gone. He took a few more moments to take the breeches, plain shirt and cloak from one of the dead men. Gabe would need them.

  He was aware of the majesty of the cathedral as he stepped into its enormous space. Beautiful soft light filtered in through magnificent, huge windows of stained glass, with one immense, dominating rose-shaped window above the northern end of the nave. Cassien desperately wanted to linger, feeling the pull of this spiritual centre of Morgravia, but he could see a figure in grey at the entrance. She looked small in the distance and he could sense she was fearful and tense beneath the hood of her cloak; perhaps she was mindful that it was unusual in this place for a person to keep their hood up. He must hurry. But where was Gabe?

  A new sensation began to crowd within him. Not a voice, yet it called to him. He felt suddenly helpless, began to walk, as if no longer in control of his actions. He walked dumbly, slowly, drawn down the nave to its centre, where aisles led off to meet other corridors that flanked the central nave.

  He could see Gabe sitting in the pews, looking up at a pillar. Even from this distance, he could see which beast Gabe was staring at.

  Cassien, he now heard in his mind. The voice sounded as though it was coming from a long way off. It was a whisper, carried on the wind. He wasn’t imagining it. It called only to him. And as he finally paused beneath the stone pillar that soared into the gods, he felt his heart give, and an outpouring of emotion flood his body. It weakened him, forced him to sit alongside Gabe and follow his line of sight to the great flying serpent … the king of all the beasts looked down upon them with a benevolent gaze.

  Cassien, he heard floating on his mind. My son.

  He realised his mouth was gaping and he felt teary — something he hadn’t experienced since childhood. Gabe turned to him, damp-eyed. ‘I … I don’t understand. It called me by name. It compelled me to be here.’

  Cassien squeezed Gabe’s shoulder, handed him the clothes. ‘Compelled both of us. Do you understand the nature of the Pearlis Cathedral creatures? That one alone will single you out and call to you; that is your magical beast for life.’

  Gabe shook his head. ‘So mine’s the dragon?’ he said innocently.

  ‘It can’t be,’ Cassien murmured, his breath coming sharply. He was confused, more frightened by this than by any number of swords being thrown at him.

  ‘It called to me, I tell you. It … it knew my name.’

  Florentyna had obviously seen them and given up waiting. ‘New plan?’ she asked, arching an eyebrow.

  ‘Forgive us,’ Cassien said. ‘Get dressed, Gabe. You’re too recognisable in Tentrell’s clothes and this is something of a disguise. Hurry.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Florentyna continued. ‘Admiring the scenery? Of course, this is the first time in the cathedral for both of you, isn’t it? I can see how emotional this is for you, Gabe. It is for all of us the first time.’ She smiled kindly. ‘Which beast called to you?’ she asked, a slight wistfulness in her tone.

  Cassien’s breath caught. It didn’t make sense but either way they couldn’t admit the truth. ‘The, er … the winged lion is mine. Gabe’s is the unicorn.’ Gabe stared at him. ‘Isn’t it?’ he urged, hoping his companion saw the warning in his eyes.

  ‘Er, yes,’ he said, tying up his new breeches. ‘The unicorn.’

  She nodded. ‘I’m pleased for you. Both such magnificent creatures. Mine, of course, is this one.’ She gestured to the pillar that dwarfed them. ‘I can’t blame you for admiring him — the royal dragon. King of the Beasts. He is magnificent. I remember the day he called my name as though it was yesterday. I was three summers old, and he knew me and I knew him. I wept too.’

  Cassien stood. ‘We must go.’

  ‘I’m staying here,’ Gabe said, looking as mystified as they did by his words. He shook his head. ‘It told me to wait.’

  ‘What did?’ Florentyna asked.

  Gabe glanced at Cassien. ‘The, er … the unicorn.’

  ‘It definitely spoke to you in this way?’ Cassien asked, not disbelieving Gabe but certainly surprised. Gabe nodded.

  ‘My creature has never spoken to me, beyond his initial summons,’ Florentyna admitted, sounding envious of him.

  ‘Darcelle knows you. It’s highly likely she’ll come into the cathedral. It’s too dangerous. I will bring you back, if it’s your choice to be here.’

  ‘It’s not my choice. It’s the creature’s,’ Gabe said. ‘I trust it, I trust the cathedral. I always have. You need to know that I’ve been searching for this place for most of my life. I found it now … I can’t leave it.’

  Cassien nodded. He had to let everyone follow their instincts, especially now magic was at work … in curious ways. His job was to protect the queen alone. He frowned. ‘Why would it want you to stay?’

  ‘It’s my role, it said. There are three of us. He didn’t say more. Just that I must stay in the cathedral.’

  It was the Triad that Ham had spoken of, Cassien was sure of it. ‘Well, then, you have to stay out of sight.’

  ‘I will, I promise.’

  ‘Can I talk with Gabe a moment, your majesty?’

  ‘Of course. I will wait just over there.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Cassien pressed when the queen was not in hearing distance.

  Gabe nodded. ‘About this, yes. About whether we see one another again, no.’

  Cassien gave a mirthless chuckle. ‘If for any reason you ever visit Orkyld, make sure you meet a woman called Vivienne. Tell her I’m glad she tried to trick me … that I have fond feelings for her and I was sad to have to leave.’ And that she should use the gold I left to better her position in life; I have no need of it.

  ‘Tell her yourself. Unless you want to start finding your way to a place called Paris to pass on messages to my friends.’

  They both grinned.

  Cassien surprised himself by giving Gabe a firm hug. ‘I don’t understand much of what is happening, but we are certainly brothers in spirit, at least. Be safe, Gabriel.’

  There was something achingly familiar about the way Gabe felt in that moment of embrace; the way he tipped his head, the way he naturally wrapped an arm around Cassien’s neck and particularly the words he whispered: ‘Safe trails, Cass.’ It sounded so familiar, so effortless.

  Cassien shrank back to stare at him. Gabe stared back.

  ‘What?’ the man from Paris asked.

  ‘Why did you say that?’

  Gabe shrugged, looked bemused. ‘I don’t really know. It felt like a memory,’ he said, with a crooked smile. ‘Nothing’s normal for me here. I can’t separate what’s real or dreaming, what’s this life or my previous. Forgive me.’

  Cassien joined fists with his new friend. ‘I will see you again, Gabe.’

  ‘You can be sure of it,’ Gabe replied. He bowed now to Florentyna. ‘Your majesty. As we say where I come from, “Take no shit from anyone.”’

  Florentyna exploded into a helpless laugh, quickly censuring herself as she looked around the nave, but it was quiet. ‘I don’t even know what that means,’ she whispered, leaning forward and kissing Gabe on both cheeks, ‘but it sounds deliciously wicked. And remember this, you are my brother too. I will see you again, dear one.’

  Gabe beamed. ‘Go!’

  With a reverent touch of the dragon’s pillar, and one final glance at their friend, Cassien took the queen’s arm and ran her to the front doors. ‘Hurry, Florentyna, those bodies could be found any time.’

  She pulled the hood of her cloak over her face and allowed Cassien to walk her quickly out into the streets of her city, where they immediately fell into stride with the flow of traffic, dodging horses, carriages and the general to a
nd fro of people going about their daily life.

  ‘I’m going to buy a pair of horses and then we head for Tyntar.’

  ‘And after that?’ she murmured.

  ‘To another cathedral I trust.’

  ‘Where is that?’

  ‘To the one place I know where I can keep you safe, your majesty,’ Cassien whispered. ‘We’re going to the Great Forest.’

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Ham held his breath as he watched King Tamas meet Princess Darcelle emerging from her bedchamber. She looked flushed from her bath — or was it excitement? Over the top of a pale-blue knitted shift, she wore a cream lace dress, studded with pearls. The attire was ‘fussy’ in Ham’s opinion but it certainly showed off Darcelle’s exquisite shape as though it had been painted on her.

  She reached out her hands to the king. Ham was impressed that Tamas didn’t hesitate but grasped them warmly and held them against his cheeks.

  ‘You’ve never looked more desirable,’ he said.

  ‘Tamas,’ she exclaimed in a more breathy voice than he was used to hearing. ‘You took your time, you had me worried.’

  ‘You must never worry about me, my love.’

  Ham watched her cut him a glance.

  ‘Why is the boy here?’

  ‘There’s a lot going on, Darcelle — my retinue is understandably concerned for me, for both of us. This is Hamelyn. He’s been appointed my personal messenger and I’ve given my word to my guard that he will rarely leave my side. I cannot linger either, my dear. Forgive me, but there is much to do. Obviously all the formalities have been cancelled and we must make arrangements to return to Cipres.’

  Hamelyn watched the queen’s sister shift her attention fully to him and he realised all of their suspicions were surely confirmed. Cyricus had not seen him previously, and thus could not know him. If Darcelle had still been present perhaps he would have seen a flare of recognition in her eyes; instead, he fancied he could see the evil spirit lurking behind the cold gaze that felt like winter on his skin.

  ‘You are obviously seeing more of my betrothed than I, Hamelyn of Cipres.’

  ‘Your highness,’ Ham muttered deliberately, lowering his gaze to show deference, but really not wishing to look upon the cruel eyes.