Fletcher (A Prydain novel Book 3)

by AJ Adams

Kennard knew but decided to keep his trap shut because more evidence would only make Jarvis’ case worse. Duggard probably didn’t know, but he was sulking so he shut up, too.

  The justiciar moved some papers around, just to look important, because the case was crystal clear. “Quartermaster Jarvis, you are accused of theft of convoy supplies, and you’ve admitted your guilt,” he intoned. “The sentence is twenty lashes.”

  Jarvis gasped and went white. “No!” he moaned. “Please, no!”

  I didn’t feel sorry for him. I remembered him beating me before giving me to Dan Black and laughing while I choked and died. Now he’d suffer, and I was happy.

  Of course, they were soft on him.

  “However, as Sergeant Kennard points out, the migrants may have stolen some of the supplies, and Master Fletcher didn’t dispute this,” the justiciar continued. “The sentence is reduced to ten lashes.”

  So Jarvis would live. Typical. But it was better than him getting off.

  “Look, I didn’t do it,” Jarvis was trying to wriggle out of it. “I want a retrial.”

  “The sentence to be carried out now,” the justiciar announced.

  “No!” Jarvis screamed. “Please, no!”

  It was what I’d begged him for so often. He’d ignored my pleas every time. “I want to watch,” I reminded Ware.

  “Of course.”

  It was fun to see them strip my former owner. He screamed and wailed as if being naked was a torture. All I remembered was how he’d sold me over and over again, for as little as a mug of beer. Whole camps had watched me being fucked, and he’d found it funny. Now I was laughing at him.

  But when they tied him to the cross, I got a weird feeling in my stomach. The whipping of the baker’s thrall and the slow hanging in Caern suddenly popped into mind.

  “This should be good.” A Tanweld citizen, plump and rosy, was laughing at the prospect of the entertainment to come. “He’s a screamer.”

  Jarvis was wailing. “No, no, no! Help! Stop! Wait!”

  The justiciar was measuring the whip, three feet of it, and as he got three honest citizens to confirm it was proper, I felt myself begin to sweat. My feelings of just revenge were vanishing rapidly. Maybe if they’d let me bash Jarvis it would’ve been okay, but to watch this clinical brutality just made me feel sick.

  “Lind?” Ware was gazing at me in concern. “I thought as much,” he said obscurely.

  “About watching,” the sweat was running down my back. “I think I changed my mind.”

  “Come on.” Ware held me closely and began pushing through the crowd. “Excuse me, she’s ill. Please let us pass.”

  But the press of people made it hard to move quickly. The justiciar was reading out the charge and sentence before we could get away. “Begin!” he called out.

  There was a split-second of silence, a crack, and then a shriek tore the air. It went straight through me.

  “One!” the justiciar announced.

  “I’m going to be sick,” I whispered.

  “Hold on to me,” Ware picked me up. “Come on.”

  We pushed through the mass of people, with me expecting to hear a second shriek any second. It never came.

  “Why have they stopped?” a citizen in blue velvet asked.

  “He’s fainted, the coward,” his companion in lace replied.

  Ware glanced back, then his arm around me tightened. “Lind,” his lips were near my ear. “He’s dead.”

  We stopped and looked back. It was true. Jarvis the bully, who’d laughed as he’d beaten me, had died of plain funk. I could see his face, white as a sheet, his lips blue and his eyes bulging. They were slapping him, burning feathers under his nose, but it was no good: Jarvis was gone. To some unmentionable hell, I told myself firmly but actually, all I felt was guilt. My knees had gone, too.

  “Come on, Lind.”

  Ware swept me up and carried me back to the inn. Our room had a huge fireplace, a roaring fire and a big bed with an embroidered quilt. Ware does like his luxury, and as usual we were installed in a room fit for a duke.

  Me, I was teary. “I hated him so much.” I wept. “I wanted him to suffer and die. So why am I feeling so guilty?”

  “Because you’re not half as hard as you think you are,” Ware said calmly. “He was a damn fool, he broke the law, and he had to know he would be caught.”

  “I know. I think he thought his cousins would protect him.”

  “That was stupid. Duggard protects his own arse, and everyone else can go hang. Kennard isn’t much better.”

  “I know.” I was dying my eyes. “Jarvis was an idiot. If he’d been any dumber, we’d have had to water him daily.”

  Ware was uncompromising as always. “He was a vicious, cunning, thieving son of a she-wolf. He’s damn lucky he went out easy.”

  “You didn’t like him either, huh?” But Ware’s anger made me smile again. “I’m glad you didn’t dump the migrants in it.”

  “The duke of Brighthelme should have helped pay for their passage.”

  “His city was burned down, remember?”

  “So what? He still has a duty to his people.”

  I looked at the grey eyes, the colour of slate, and his cool expression. Ware was every inch the icy-hearted Guild master craftsman—on the outside. On the inside—he was just as hard. I didn’t kid myself. Ware wasn’t nice. But he did have compassion and a sense of justice.

  I jingled the bracelets on my wrist. They were a guilt gift, and it was typical of him. Ware believed he’d treated me badly, and he’d make up for it. It’s something I liked about him.

  He was stroking my hair. “How about we go for a drink before supper? The wine’s good here.”

  Ware was generous in every way. He didn’t just give me things; he actually wanted me to be happy. Suddenly I felt a surge of emotion for him.

  “You’re the best, you know that, don’t you?” I was hugging him, breathing in that signature woody scent and rubbing my hands over the sleekly muscled back.

  The bed was soft underneath us. On impulse I pulled him down. “Do you want me, Ware?”

  His eyes lengthened as he smiled at me. “Always, tender beauty.”

  Ware’s great in bed, but that first time we made love without me in my collar will be with me forever. I felt freer than the birds, and with his touch, gentle and knowing, I floated into paradise.

  We never made it to dinner. We had supper sent to the room, and we ate in front of the fire, feeding each other titbits and giggling as we drank a whole flagon of rich white wine, sweet and thick with honey.

  Ware fell into bed and was out in seconds as always, but I lay awake a while, watching him. Asleep, all the tension was wiped away. He had good bones, fine lips and large eyes. He was handsome, rich and famous. Generous, too. The silver bracelets on my wrist jangled expensively. With them, I might have been set for life but I didn’t want to leave.

  Looking at the sleeping man beside me, I suddenly understood why. I didn’t want to go because I wanted to be with him. Despite everything, I’d become fond of the fletcher. The way he touched me, looked after me, even the way he fussed was endearing.

  “Lind.” Ware sighed in his sleep and curled around me. “Hmm, nice and warm.”

  I pulled the covers over him, tucking him in so he wouldn’t get cold in the middle of the night. Although spring was in the air, my fletcher was still thin-skinned. I smoothed the covers and kissed him on the cheek.

  That’s when it hit me. I wasn’t fond of this man; I loved him. Prissy, proud, stuck-up, ice-cold Ware. I knew it and I didn’t care. I loved every bit of him.

  I lay back and groaned. “Tyr’s hairy balls! You stupid cow!” Other girls might like being in love, but I knew I was in for trouble. I might love him, but there was no way he could love me back.

  Finicky, proud Ware wouldn’t, no couldn’t, demean himself to love a thrall. It would kill him. The bracelets jangled mockingly. They were a guilt gift, I told myself firmly. Ware i
s noble and he pays his dues. He likes you, but he can’t love you. You drive him crazy. He’s said it plenty of times.

  And anyway, I reminded myself. Ware was totally taken up by his need for revenge. That is what had attracted him to me in the first place. No doubt when we’d burned the place down and flushed out Ranulf, Ware would want to go back to Llanfaes.

  He’d marry a nice girl, settle down and have a family. He’d train me, because he’d promised, and he’d probably be fond of me, but that was all I could reasonably look forward to.

  I settled down in feathery comfort, running a finger over my bracelets and telling myself I was getting everything I wanted: freedom, money and skills. Somehow the future seemed bleak.

  Chapter Twenty-One: Fletcher

  “Are you sure you know where we’re going?” We’d been in Tanweld forest for a week, following the river till it forked and then the markers, but Kennard was getting antsy.

  “The rangers said to follow the red markers.”

  “They were probably making it up.”

  “We’ll be there soon.”

  “If we don’t find Raven’s Keep in three more days, we’re turning back.”

  “You can if you like.”

  My mild response irritated him. “We’ve got only twenty men. It’s not enough.”

  Apart from the men we’d lost on the trip from Caern, several more had injuries that kept them from joining us. “There are enough of us.”

  “The duke’s assault team failed. We have even fewer men. Why would we succeed?”

  Time to explain. “We’re not going to challenge them at the gate. You’re distracting them by firing their woodpile, keeping them busy while Lind sneaks me in round the back into their tower. Their strength is a high wall with a single narrow gate. We’re turning that against them. When I get into the tower, I set fire to it. The flames will spread through the keep. I’ll also use my Flamethrowers to fire the stables, the armoury and the barracks. As the place burns, they’ll be forced to pile up in that one narrow exit. You shoot them as they escape.”

  “That’s crazy!” Kennard exploded. “It will never work!”

  “Yes, it will.”

  “The wall is supposed to be twenty feet high. How do we fire the woodpile?”

  “I have filled small bags with the explosive that powers my Thunderclaps. Light the fuse and throw it over.”

  “It won’t work!”

  “It’s standard equipment in the eastern continent.”

  “Setting fire to the woodpile is nonsense! We should fire the keep!”

  “No. We want them to be busy, to gather but we don’t want them worried. They’ll think it an accident. They’ll be totally focused on putting out the fire. My attack from within will take them completely by surprise. By the time they understand what’s going on, they won’t be able to do anything but evacuate.”

  “You’re insane!”

  “It’s unusual but the tactics work. The constable and I worked out every scenario.”

  “This is what happens when goddamn fletchers think they’re soldiers. You think it’s a game? It’s battle! We need to get over that wall and hit them where it hurts!”

  The damn fool. “This isn’t a time and place for knightly behaviour, Sergeant. We need to win.”

  “Your whole plan hinges on that damn thrall. You can’t rely on her.”

  “Yes, I can.” I kept my cool because bashing the disrespectful old bastard wouldn’t help me.

  “I don’t see why the duke and constable asked you to deal with this,” Kennard grumbled. “A bloody fletcher, and a Llanfaes one to boot. They must have been mad, drunk or both. What business is this of yours?”

  I kept silent. Thanks to a long cold winter, the roads had opened late, news travelled slowly and so Kennard hadn’t heard about my family. I wasn’t in the mood to share.

  “As for that damned thrall of yours, she’s disrespectful, wayward and totally untrustworthy. She won’t get you in. She’ll hand you over and laugh as they slaughter you.”

  “One more word out of you, Kennard, and I’ll ram that unruly tongue of yours down your throat.”

  He rode off, leaving me fuming.

  “Just ignore the silly fat-gut.” Lind drove up beside me. “It’s a great plan. Simple and cunning.”

  Just looking at her lightened my heart. “As long as Raven’s Keep is laid out as we’ve been told, it should work.” If it wasn’t, I was sunk.

  “It will be. You’ve done all the prep, and you’ve been in more battles than Kennard, the constable and their duke put together. Also, you’ve listened and learned from everyone you’ve met, so you see it from all points of view. Honestly, Ware, you’re going to do this like you do everything else: flawlessly.”

  Dear Lind. She gave me courage when mine wavered.

  “And when you win, that bugger will claim credit, just you wait,” Lind said cheerfully.

  She’d been doing that since we left Tanweld, predicting my success and shoring up my spirits. She had a knack for seeing when I was down, and she propped me up effortlessly every time.

  “Oh, look! Mushrooms!” Lind placed the reins on the box and jumped onto the ground. “Back in a sec.”

  That was another thing. Without that damn collar, Lind bounced about fearlessly, gathering nuts, mushrooms and other goodies from the forest. Rose and Daisy ambled along, following Wolf, so Lind enjoyed herself. Earlier that day I’d spotted her in a tree, gathering cherries, and she’d found wild rhubarb the day before.

  “Look.” She was holding up a handful of lush ribbed mushrooms. “And I found some garlic! Dinner will be amazing!”

  She was spoiling me rotten, too, feeding me like a prince. Lind was a treasure, turning a dull journey into an adventure.

  I say dull because Tanweld forest is a dark, miserable place. It’s ancient, so the trees are huge, towering over the earth, cutting off all but the brightest daylight. It’s damp, silent and gloomy like a cave, and it goes on endlessly.

  “I’ve still got some nettles,” Lind was planning happily. “There’s some grass for Wolf, and I’ve got those long dark leaves the girls like.”

  At that, Wolf pricked up his ears and whickered. He’s friendly but cautious as a rule, but he’d taken Lind to heart. He was enjoying the company of Rose and Daisy, too. With surprise, I suddenly realised we were becoming a family. It was an idea that jolted me. However, before I could think it through, one of the guards on scout duty came running up.

  “Sir! Smoke!”

  “Raven’s Keep?”

  “Yes. About two miles ahead. A dark, slim tower, shining like a mirror. Just like you said.”

  At that, we called a halt, and Kennard and I went off to recce the site. It was just as described: the keep was protected by a moat and a tall wall as high as five men. The tower was pushed to the back of the keep, rising sheer and steep out of the wall.

  “The window must be fifty feet up,” Kennard whispered.

  “Sixty.” And narrow, too. But at least the men inside felt so secure that they had no patrols. Or maybe it was lack of discipline. Bandits are by nature lazy and greedy. There were sounds coming from inside, but overall it seemed quiet. A smell of roasting meat drifted out. “They’ll be settling in for dinner soon.”

  When we went back, I found Lind had backtracked, leaving our cart camouflaged by some bushes two miles into the woods. “I’ve left Rose and Daisy hitched in case we need to make a quick runaway,” she confided. “Wolf is with them, seeing he won’t be in the fight. They all have nosebags in case we’re a while.”

  Like I said, she took wonderful care of the horses. Lind has heart, she really does.

  The men were waiting, and as the keep’s layout was entirely as expected, I explained the plan. “Lind goes up and gets me in. I set fire to the keep, the armoury and every other building.”

  “You’ll get caught,” Kennard frowned.

  “No, the tower has windows that overlook the keep. I’m shooting
down from up there.” I wasn’t going to tell them about challenging Ranulf. They’d baulk and refuse to let me go. “Once the fire’s everywhere, Ranulf and his men will be driven out.”

  Kennard was frowning and so were his men. They didn’t like it.

  “Well, sir,” one said. “It’s clever, but it’s not what we’re used to.”

  “Yeah, I thought we’d wait till dark and go over the top.”

  “We’re professionals. They’re just bandits. We’d take them easily.”

  Apollo save me from mindless morons! I was patient and firm, and I reminded them of their duty. “The duke himself and his constable know and approve of this plan, so it’s our task to carry it out.”

  They grumbled a bit, and Kennard actually tried the old soldier’s trick of saying, “If we find conditions are different than expected, we would have the right to adjust the orders.” Meaning of course that he wanted to die in a foolish, frontal attack.

  “Oh, shut up.” Lind, of course. “Ware’s plan is brilliant.”

  At that, Kennard stiffened, got up and turned to me, growling, “We’ll set up on the west side.”

  That was typical of the old soldier. He’d battled with her the first few days, but as I’d backed my girl every time, and she was fearless about confronting him, he’d taken to pretending she didn’t exist.

  It was just as well. As the sun would be going down soon, it was time to go. I didn’t want to spend a night and day hanging around. Delay always saps courage; it allows doubt to creep in.

  So I smiled to encourage him. “Thank you. Wait for my signal, please, before you start the fire. We meet afterwards by the cart. And good luck.”

  Kennard and his men stomped off, unhappy but carrying the little leather bags.

  “That got rid of him,” Lind said with satisfaction. “He’s a moron.”

  “I need him.”

  “I know. But I wish you had someone better. He’s not trustworthy.”

  “He’ll do his duty.”

  Lind shrugged. “I’ll get changed.”

  Her boots and gloves were made of thin leather, ribbed for extra purchase. She dressed in tight hose and a close fitting tunic, both dark green. She’d be invisible in the rapidly diminishing light. Now we were ready to go, I suddenly had second thoughts. “Lind, don’t go.”