by Danny Macks
“Of course. For your own safety.” Six and six, the guard signed and one of the men in front nodded.
“Where are Gerge and my men? They were supposed to be waiting on us.”
“Lady Elena knew you would want a report. Gerge is waiting in your room. The rest are barracked with Lady Elena’s own men.”
“I’d like to see them.”
“Of course. Would after your meeting with Lady Elena be acceptable?”
Wild plans flashed through Jeb’s head. If he could get on Mother’s back, they might get out the gate before the portcullis fell. Once outside, he'd have more freedom to mount a rescue, once he really found out what was going on. If he gave Midnight a shove in the right direction as he mounted, the colt was old enough to keep up with his mother.
“Jeb, stand down.” Inius let go of the poleaxe and placed a hand on Jeb’s shoulder. “We need to find out what's going on and we can’t do that acting rashly. Trust me.”
Jeb let go of both horses and they waited beside him. He took a deep breath, considering new plans. He could feel of Inius suddenly moved and would be able to respond to follow the lord’s attack faster than the crossbowmen. He was half-afraid Midnight would attack somebody early, but the colt was also waiting.
Inius squeezed Jeb’s shoulder. “I’m serious. Stand down. Find my men, if you need a plan to follow.”
Jeb studied the taller man’s face. “I have your back, if you need me.”
Inius grinned. “I never doubted it.” Then he stepped away from Jeb and took off his pack.
As six guards accompanied Inius toward the castle, Jeb yelled, “Hurt him and I will find you! All of you!” No one turned, but Lord Ravnos walked a little taller.
“Wasted bravado,” the guard behind Jeb commented. “All six of them are deaf as stones. Leave your pack here with the horses.”
“What has he done?”
“This isn’t about him. You're the one seeing the Lady.”
Midnight reared when Jeb tensed, banging a hoof off a guard’s helmet. Jeb leapt to grab Midnight before he got hurt. The guard seemed fine too.
“Mind if I stable the horses first? They aren’t used to strangers.”
Jeb’s opinion of the guard rose when he agreed to the detour.
*****
“What are you doing to my barony?” Lady Elena said without greeting when Jeb was shown, still dirty from the trail and stable, into the castle’s kitchen. The Lady of Thesscore was shorter than any lord Jeb had met, nearly as short as Jeb, but thick and curvy and dressed in the finest fabric. As she spoke, she attacked a pile of vegetables before her with savage efficiency. The knife she wielded was as long as Jeb’s forearm. Guards circled Jeb, but the kitchen staff was making an effort to be elsewhere.
“Lord Ravnos and I just arrived. I’m afraid I don’t --”
“First, my husband returns from the capital and tells me he's bringing some tart home.” She swiped the eviscerated vegetables into a pot, her rings leaving a streak of gold in Jeb’s eyes at the speed of her movement. A servant deposited a stack of plucked chickens beside his lady then scurried for safety. “Then, the Grey itself shows up in my barony warning of an attack from Cormeum -- which Duke Vinchell says isn't happening if he has anything to say about it, by the way.”
“You went to Vinchell, in Cormeum?”
“Don’t interrupt!” Lady Elena pointed her knife at Jeb and then chopped a thigh from the rest of the bird with a single swipe of her blade before attacking the other limbs. “Then, my personal guard starts babbling about a shade telling them that the Winter Prince is arriving -- a fact the Grey didn’t see fit to mention.”
“And finally …” Lady Elena chopped hard, her body jiggling with the blow and the chicken was halved from breastbone to spine. “I start getting reports that the Baron himself is picking fights with his own villages instead of collecting the harvest the way he usually does. Immediately after meeting you!”
Jeb stood silent while Lady Elena dismembered and halved another bird.
“Well?” The Lady set down the knife and held out a hand to her side. The servant reappeared with a towel.
Jeb fought to contain all the emotions thundering through his head. She was here! The body was different, the voice different, but Jeb would have recognized that fire anywhere. Finally, his roiling emotions boiled down to one thought. “For hundreds of years, I've always loved you. Even when you've hated me.”
Lady Elena’s face turned nearly purple. “Get. Her. Out.”
“Him. I'm a him.” Jeb had no clue why he was grinning like an idiot.
“Out! Take her to Baron Ravnos room, lock her in and put Nonse with him … Her ... It.”
*****
Jeb was still grinning when he was shoved, rather unceremoniously, into a well-appointed guest room where Inius and Gerge, his manservant, waited.
“How did it go?” Inius asked, suspicion thick in his voice but a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“I think I’m in love.”
Inius sighed and the smile disappeared. “Just when I get used to you being a seven hundred year old king, you go and act like a sixteen year old girl with a crush.”
Jeb frowned, his mood spoiled. “And how would a sixteen year old boy act?”
“Pretty much the same,” Gerge replied, still smirking.
A large armored man in a red brigandine, as tall as Thesscore and thick as a tree, stepped into the room and gestured, Come.
“Gerge was told he would be allowed to check on the men when I met with Lady Elena. Will you go with him?”
Jeb shook his head and gestured toward the guard. “I think I'm supposed to wait here.”
After everyone else left, Jeb turned to the squat giant. “You must be Nonse.”
Nonse, scowling, didn’t reply.
Chapter Eighteen – Winter Champion
Entering the throne room, Chad’s eyes were immediately drawn to the kingdom map table that had been set up in the center of the room. Prince Pious moved several small markers around while Lord Equus and Lord Cetus looked on. Except for helmets and gauntlets, both lords were in full armor.
“Isn’t it exciting!” Pious exclaimed when Chad halted by the door. “Kibus hasn’t had a war against a real enemy since before I was born … this time, I mean.”
“Cormeum has declared war?”
“Not yet, but the Grey says they are massing troops. He’s been warning people up and down the kingdom.”
Chad hadn’t seen Nimbus since the night before the incident in the armory. Perhaps this was why. But Chad didn’t trust the ancient ghost. “Have the Grey’s reports been confirmed?”
“Why would I need confirmation? We need to act, quickly. Can you use your Rage Song to rally troops?”
“What?” Chad’s head was still spinning.
“You know, get the people worked up so they volunteer to fight.”
“Rage Song will get you an angry mob, not an army.”
Pious shrugged. “Point them the right direction and I don’t see the difference. I've already sent out messages to Lord Thesscore and Xeres the berserker in Ursus to have them rally the people in their areas and the neighboring baronies.”
“Not Lord Ursus, your highness?”
Lords had many duties, but rallying and training troops was one of the primary ones. Shifting Lord Ursus' duties to someone else on his own lands would be tantamount to declaring him incompetent. Chad looked to the other lords but they looked elsewhere.
“The will of the people, not the lords, are going to win this war, Erroll,” Pious pronounced.
“Cetus? Equus? What do you two think?”
“I think,” Equus said slowly, “that with a little guidance, the Prince’s plan will do the country good. The harvest has been poor across the country. A little raiding would supplement …”
“We become bandits?” Chad interrupted. “Thieves?”
“Remember which one of us is prince, Lord Erroll.”
>
Chad ground his teeth, but said nothing
Mercer ran into the throne room, breathless and his seneschal’s livery collar askew. “They found him, your majesty! The boy who stole your sword.”
Running to the castle gate with the prince and other lords following close behind, Chad instantly recognized the black-haired boy with the badly bruised face standing in the middle of a small crowd of guards. His little brother, Deen.
“What happened?”
“A patrol caught him, riding hell bent down the main road near the Cetus-Erroll border. Had to shoot the horse out from under him to catch him.”
“I was riding toward the capital, you idiot,” Deen snapped.
The guard raised the back of his hand and Chad growled. “Touch him and I’ll cut you down where you stand.”
“He’s a traitor,” Pious said. “He deserves more than a blow.”
“He’s my brother, not your sword stealer. Didn't anyone tell the patrols to stop looking when we got the sword back?”
“Why? The thief still deserves to be punished.”
Chad was so angry, he was having trouble seeing straight. He felt his Rage bubbling up. One loud note and this whole crowd would start tearing each other apart. And they deserved it. All of them. His eyes fell on Deen’s bruised face. “Did the guards do that?”
Deen shook his head. “Father did. He and Ravnos had some kind of singing duel and he lost his Song of Happiness. It’s driven him insane. Most of his entourage already killed each other and he’s headed toward Thesscore Castle.”
Horror replaced anger. The city around Thesscore Castle contained over ten thousand men, women and children. Singing, safe in his armor, a rager would decimate the place. Rage Song didn't pick and choose. No one, not even his mother and sister, would be safe.
Chad pointed to a servant. “You, get my armor ready in my room. Lords, I’ll need a fast horse, what’s the best you have?”
“Don’t go tearing off without help,” Equus said. “We’ll get you some men.”
“I don’t need men. My Song can stop him and an armed crowd will only make that harder. I'll need a weapon, a good poleaxe or...” Chad looked around and saw Mercer had already run off and was halfway to the inner keep. He sprinted after the man.
On the seventh floor, Chad caught up to Mercer as the seneschal was sorting through keys by the armory door and a confused guard looked on.
“The prince could execute us for this,” Chad said wryly as he pulled on gloves.
“He’s not my prince.” Mercer swung open the heavy oak door and stepped out of the way. “Go save your people.”
Chad found a scabbard, pulled the King’s Sword down off the wall, and slid the blade home. “Keep the castle safe till I get back.”
Mercer bowed, his fist over his heart. “For as long as you need me to.”
Armor unpacked and waiting in his room, skilled servants soon had Chad dressed for battle. None of them commented on the sword in Chad’s hands, although they did their best to give it a wide berth. Once armored, Chad belted the sword on.
Exiting the keep, Chad found Cetus holding a half-wild roan mare while Equus saddled him. Pious, Deen and several servants looked on. The older lords both frowned when Chad exited the keep with a gauntleted hand on the King's Sword, but they were unable to meet his challenging stare.
"A lord protects his people," Chad pronounced. Both lords nodded, tentatively accepting the excuse.
"You are lord of Erroll, not Thesscore," Pious said, sticking out his lower lip. Chad ignored him and turned to Cetus.
Cetus held out the roan's reins to Chad. “She loves to gallop and she’s a jumper. Put a fence in front of her and she’ll clear it. Give her her head and she’ll get you the twenty miles to Equus faster than any horse in the kingdom.”
“Once you get to Equus,” Lord Equus continued as he pulled a ring off his hand, “Show this ring to any guard in the barony and you'll get a change of mounts. Change mounts often and ask for a messenger, when you can. I have the fastest garrons in the kingdom.”
“If he was headed south instead of north, you know I’d shame you for that lie,” Cetus jested.
Someone grabbed the King’s Sword at Chad’s hip. Clutching the hilt with one hand, Chad turned and punched. Pious went down instantly and didn’t move.
Everyone gasped and took an involuntary step back. Chad adjusted his steel gauntlet, took the roan’s reins from Cetus’ hands, and mounted. If Pious had him executed, so be it. It would wait till his family was safe. Some things were worth dying for.
“Chirurgeon Hesser has been sleeping in the king’s bedroom. Take the prince and my brother there and keep them safe until I return.”
Several servants bowed, but Chad didn’t have time to think about that. He had two hundred and fifty miles to travel and not enough time to get there. The roan lunged forward and Chad struggled to stay in the saddle. Damn, she could move. He didn’t envy the groomsman that broke her.
*****
Nonse had a braying laugh and a wicked sense of humor. His verbal accent, on the other hand, was nearly incomprehensible, moving his mouth in the right ways but skipping over most consonants. Jeb quickly realized that he struggled to look back and forth between Jeb’s hands and lips, so Jeb signed higher.
“So you’re the one that taught Momma to sign.”
Nonse nodded, signing as he spoke in imitation of Jeb. “She’s an outcast among her own kind. Something about her thinking of herself as a girl instead of … whatever shades usually are.”
Jeb’s ears heard “Hee’s ah ou-has amon her o kine. Somethee ahou her thinhing ahow her herhef ah a jurl insead ah … wha-efa shaves usuary are.” He was sure, with time, he could get used to understanding it, but he was glad Nonse signed, as well.
“Something’s wrong with her,” Nonse said. “Every time she comes back from checking on the baroness’ husband, she comes back angry.”
“Wait. You called her the baroness’ husband, not the baron. Shouldn’t Lady Elena be the baron’s wife?”
Nonse shook his head. “Day to day, Lady Elena runs the barony. Her husband spends his time fighting in tournaments, visiting the capital and feasting in other baronies. His only duties here in the barony are gathering the harvest and maintaining the war horses.”
“That and rutting stud, I assume. I noticed some pretty tall children on my way through the city.”
Nonse laughed and Jeb smiled to hear it. If he didn’t have duties elsewhere, he could see himself easily fitting in here.
The door creaked loudly when Lady Elena opened it, but Nonse was facing the wrong way to see it. Jeb couldn’t read her expression, but she didn’t look mad any more.
“I left you with a deaf guard so you couldn’t corrupt him the way you’ve wrapped Lord Ravnos around your finger.”
Jeb shrugged and Nonse started when he realized his lady was behind him. “I have a way with some people.”
“What was that you were doing with your fingers, some kind of magic spell?”
Jeb smirked. He could see his expression was annoying her, but he couldn’t help himself. “Yes,” he said, signing as his smirk became a grin. “Yes, it is.”
Nonse’s laugh boomed again. The laugh made Lady Elena smile, but she tried to hide her mouth behind her hand.
“I like it when you smile.”
Her expression turned stony, then thoughtful. She sighed. “What am I supposed to do with you?”
“Well, I was originally hired as a groomsman, may I see the horses?”
*****
The roan was sweating and gasping, when Chad dismounted about an hour later at the border post.
“What news?!” a guard yelled.
“I’m needed in Thesscore. Where can I find a messenger? I need his mount.”
The guard walked Chad to the stable and transferred saddles to the new horse while Chad tried to get some feeling back in his legs. “Is it war? We’ve heard some rumors.”
&nbs
p; “No, a local problem.” Chad mounted the new horse and gestured to the roan. “Please treat her kindly and get her back to …”
“We’ll sort that out, your highness,” an old man said from the stable door. “Do what you need to do and let us old soldiers sort out the details. We have your back.”
Highness? Ah. The Sword.
Chad nodded to the soldier and spurred his horse. If he kept this pace and rode past sundown, he could be to Thesscore Castle before morning.
*****
The warhorses were well-fed and exercised, but every one of them had a nervous, skittery nature that made the hackles on the back of Jeb’s neck rise.
“What’s wrong?” Lady Elena asked.
“Horses aren't supposed to act like this.”
“They're war horses. You're probably just used to garrons.”
“That’s a bit like saying they’re soldiers and I’m only used to dealing with real people.”
Lady Elena’s breath caught at the insult and Jeb knew he’d pushed too far. He was always doing that with her.
“Finest warhorses in the kingdom,” a new voice said. “Baron Thesscore picked each and every one of them out himself.”
The groomsman had a pitted face, and wore the red of the upper level household staff, but at his side hung a coiled whip. Jeb ground his teeth. How could the love of his life … “How could you permit something like this?”
“I’m Groom-master Sarin,” the poxy man replied. “I was hired and trained by the baron himself. You work in this stable, you work for me.”
Jeb stepped sideways so he could see both Lady Elena and the groomsman. “Is that how things work here?”
Lady Elena raised her chin, but couldn’t quite look Jeb in the eyes. “Wulf -- My husband has his duties and I have mine. We know our place.”
“If I could fix that, would you let me?”
Elena finally met his eyes and Jeb imagined he saw hope there. “Don’t make things worse,” she said instead.
