by Simon Haynes
"Your Majesty!" protested Sur Loyne. "Only a knight can be awarded such an honour. Guarding the queen is our most sacred duty."
"Again with this? Sur Loyne, you are a knight and yet you completely failed to defend me. Should I have you executed as an example?" Impatiently, the queen snatched Tiera's stiletto from the guard. For a moment it seemed she was going to end Sur Loyne with a jab to the throat, but instead she bid Tiera kneel before her. "I dub thee Sur Rayted. May your blade be as deadly as your name."
"Oh no," groaned Sur Loyne. "Soon we will have more knights than the palace whore." He saw the queen's expression and blanched. "Nay, Your Majesty. I refer to the other … I mean, the crone who —" He gulped. "I will escort the guards to the barracks and oversee their punishment."
"You do that," said the queen acidly.
They left, and Tiera and Thonn were alone with the queen, who still held the stiletto. She inspected the weapon closely, then glanced at Tiera. "Has this tasted many lives?"
"A great many, Your Majesty. It has been passed down over generations."
"Gosh." Visibly impressed, the queen jabbed and feinted with the knife, making swishing sounds as it cut through the air. "I wish I could rid myself of enemies so easily."
"You have but to command me," said Tiera, and at her words the queen looked thoughtful.
In fact, she looked very thoughtful indeed.
Chapter 18
"Do you think they'll give us armour and weapons?" asked Thonn excitedly, as they made their way down the stairs to the ground floor. "I've never worn armour before. Is it uncomfortable?"
Tiera said nothing, because her mind was busy with a particularly nasty problem. She might have charmed her way around the queen, but Spadell was not going to be happy with her. Once word got back to him from the guards, he'd know she'd gone back on their deal, and she had no idea how he'd react. The only point in her favour was that Spadell's position was just as dicey as hers. After all, she might reveal to the queen that he'd ordered her death.
Tiera hoped it wouldn't come to that, because it would only lead to a rash of executions … including her own. Instead, if he did confront her, she'd just tell him she was integrating herself into the queen's household before completing the task he'd given her.
"It was amazing, the way you sneaked into the queen's bedroom to get her attention," said Thonn, still chattering away without a care in the world. "It's just as well she didn't think you were a real assassin!"
"Yeah, just as well," muttered Tiera. She remembered standing over the queen, unable to strike. She'd never hesitated like that before, and she wondered whether it was because there was no purse of gold on offer for the job. Yes, that must be it.
"Report back here at dawn," said the guard, as they reached the front door. "The captain will want to see you."
"I'm sure he will," said Tiera.
"Pulling a stunt like that was crazy. You're lucky we didn't run you through." The guard ushered them out before closing the door firmly behind them.
"Does this mean we'll be living at the royal palace?" asked Thonn. "And how much do knights get paid, do you think?"
"Keep your voice down and keep moving," said Tiera urgently. She hurried Thonn across the town square at a fast jog, and every few steps she glanced over her shoulder to see if they were being followed. She couldn't believe they'd walked away from certain death, and she wouldn't feel safe until they were miles from the city.
They reached the inn and made it to their room, where Tiera started throwing her clothes and effects into a knapsack. Thonn watched, puzzled, until eventually his curiosity got the better of him.
"Are we moving into the barracks?"
"No, we're leaving. Do you need to collect your things?"
Thonn gestured at himself. "This is all I have."
"Fine. Let's go."
Tiera slung the bag over her shoulder and pushed the door open. They hurried down the stairs, and once outside they took the back streets until they reached the outer gate.
"Where are we going?" asked Thonn.
"Shh. Listen for the guards, I want to know where they are."
"There's one either side of the gate."
Tiera squinted in the darkness and saw he was correct. The big gates were closed, and while the small door set into the left-hand gate was open, there were two guards watching it. They had a brazier going, and were standing facing the fire, holding their hands out to the meagre warmth. She needed a distraction, and she knew just what to do. She took a tinderbox from her bag and hurried to a small stack of straw bales near a stable. There was a water trough nearby, as well as a bucket, and she was pretty sure the guards would be able to put out any fire which might mysteriously appear, long before the flames really caught.
She crouched next to the straw and dashed sparks from the tinderbox, watching them arc into the bales before dying.
"What are you doing?" hissed Thonn.
"This is the part where you shut up," Tiera told him, still trying to spark the straw. Finally, one of the bales caught, and flickering flames spread across the straw, crackling angrily. Soon there was a sheet of flame, and Tiera grabbed Thonn and pulled him away. "Fire!" she called, and then they ran parallel to the main street, heading for the gates.
By the time they got there the guards were halfway to the fire. Tiera hauled Thonn out through the gates, and, looking back, she saw one of the guards hurling a bucket of water on the straw bales, dousing them. Then she turned and hurried along the rough path, making for the nearby woods.
— ♦ —
Father M and Runt were eating their breakfast in silence. It wasn't even dawn yet, but neither had been able to sleep. Their room was near the top of the stairs, and they'd been woken several times by the sound of footsteps going up and down, whispers, and doors opening and closing.
"I feel we ought to accompany Hurm on his quest," said Father M at last.
Runt set down his steaming mug of coffee, which was actually hot ale with a dash of milk. "I agree. I couldn't sleep a wink for worry."
"You were concerned about him?" asked Father M in astonishment.
"No, of course not. But if he actually pulls this off—"
"—there's bound to be a large reward," finished Father M.
"My thinking exactly."
The same thought had kept them both awake. Hurm getting eaten by a dragon was one thing, but Hurm succeeding and becoming incredibly wealthy by the queen was another matter entirely. After all, what could Hurm possibly spend a fortune on, aside from a new loin cloth and an even bigger sword?
"Anyway," said Father M. "We can't just wait around here for weeks and weeks until he comes back. We'll run out of cash, for one thing, and the food in this place is absolutely dire. No, we need to get close to the queen in order to get our hands on the necklace, and what better way to get near the queen than to help her champion—"
"Backup champion."
"Than to help her backup champion complete his quest? There will probably be a feast in his honour, and, well, you saw how the queen puts her wine away. All we have to do is wait until she passes out and the necklace is ours."
Having decided on their course of action, the pair of them finished their breakfast and hurried to the stables. Runt was thoughtful enough to wrap a couple of crusts in a piece of cloth, as a peace offering for the big fighter. Unfortunately, he ate them on the way, since he wasn't that thoughtful and he was still a little peckish.
It was just after dawn and the ill-lit streets were empty. They reached the town square in no time, and when they arrived at the stables they found Hurm sitting up in his makeshift bed, his face flushed and bearing a foolish grin. Father M glanced at the horse in concern, but it appeared to be out on its feet. "What are you so happy about?"
"Queen came," said Hurm.
Father M muttered an oath, for his wand had seen little use lately. "She came here?"
"Many times," said Hurm.
"Now, Hurm, what have I t
old you about over-sharing?"
Hurm looked them over hopefully. "Breakfast?"
"Indeed, I believe Runt may have brought you a little something."
Guiltily, Runt held out the bunched rag he'd stored the crusts in. "Here. I got you these surprisingly filling crumbs."
Hurm inspected the rag doubtfully, then put it to his mouth and licked it clean.
"There will be more food later," said Father M. "But first, we've got to get this quest of ours on the road." He rubbed his hands together, partly because he was cold, but mostly because he always looked forward to an impossible quest which would almost certainly kill them all. Well, nobody said wizards were completely sane.
"Our quest?" said Hurm, and the foolish grin turned into a beaming smile. "You come too?"
"Don't even think about it," said Runt, backing away.
Father M put his arm around Hurm's shoulders. "We will come with you, Hurm. And when the queen rewards us, we will share it out evenly. Okay?"
"Okay," said Hurm.
"So that's one percent for you," said Father M, holding up five fingers and pointing at Hurm. "And ninety-nine percent for me and Runt," he said, holding up one finger and pointing to himself and the halfling. "All agreed?"
"Aye," said Runt.
"Hurm agree."
"Excellent. Now we just need a mule, a fireproof cage, and several weeks worth of supplies."
Hurm retrieved his sword and stood up, ready for anything.
"Argh!" shouted Runt, as his field of view was filled with the fighter's nether regions. "Loincloth, Hurm. Loincloth!"
— ♦ —
"Call that a cage?" sneered Runt. "You couldn't keep a fire-breathing budgie in that thing, let alone a dragon."
The shopkeeper set the gilded cage down. "A dragon? Who said anything about a dragon? You just asked for a fire-proof cage."
"A big fire-proof cage," said Runt.
"Compared to you it's massive."
"Try again, mister." Runt fingered his dagger and debated whether to end the storekeep there and then. The others had sent him to organise this particular item on the shopping list, while Hurm went to pick out a mule and Father M organised their rations. They'd decided not to send Hurm for the food, since he'd buy ten times more than they needed … and then eat half of it before they met up again. In fact, the big fighter's stomach was rumbling so much when he left they were worried he might eat half the mule.
"Bigger," said Runt, as the shopkeeper returned with a large wrought-iron cage.
"That's all I've got," said the shopkeeper. "Take it or leave it."
Runt tested the bars. They seemed strong, but he'd seen a dragon up close and strong just wasn't going to cut it. "Can you add more bars?"
"Do I look like a blacksmith?" demanded the shopkeeper.
Runt sighed. "All right, all right. How much?"
"To you, five shillings."
"Make it two and you have a deal."
"Forget it. Five is my final price."
"What happened to haggling?"
"Why, do you want to pay six?"
Defeated, Runt dug into his pocket and brought out a crown. "Got any change?"
"Twenty-six shillings change? Do I look like I'm made of money?"
Runt dug in the other pocked and found a half-crown with a dragon head on one side. "What about this?"
Grumbling under his breath, the shopkeeper counted out a huge handful of pennies. By the time Runt poured them into his pocket, they weighed him down almost as much as the cage.
Satisfied with the bargain, he slung the cage over his shoulder and left the shop, staggering under the weight. He had to walk bent double, and by the time he reached the tavern he'd knocked a dozen people off their feet.
Runt glanced at the mule waiting patiently outside. To his surprise it still had four legs, for he was certain Hurm would have snacked on the poor beast by now. Then he saw Father M approaching with a large sack of provisions. "Did you get any tobacco for my pipe?"
"No, of course not. It's incredibly bad for you."
"Seriously? We're off to steal a fire-breathing dragon from its parents and you're worried about my health?" Annoyed, Runt turned to eye the mule, which was about twice as tall as him. It had a shaggy, unkempt coat, and it was staring back at him with a wary, bloodshot eye. Runt took an instant dislike to the thing, and he decided it would be the first amongst their number to raise a hoof if they needed a volunteer to act as bait for their dragon. "I bet he overpaid for this, too."
"Impossible," said Father M. "I only gave him a shilling."
"They probably gave him nine hundred pennies change," grumbled Runt. "The currency in this place is out of control."
Father M took the cage and balanced it on the mule, tying it off with a strap. Then he opened the door and bundled his sack of provisions inside.
Meanwhile, Hurm emerged from the tavern, wiping foam from his lips with the back of his hand. He belched, slapped the mule on the rump and grinned at Runt. "Mule good."
"Mule old and probably lame," said Runt.
Hurm laughed, then inspected the cage. He grabbed the bars and bent them apart easily, barely straining his muscles. Then he took the sack of food out and looked inside.
Father M slapped his hand. "Put that back! Put it back this instant!"
"Hurm hungry!"
"You can eat later, when I say so."
His bottom lip protruding, Hurm bent two more bars to put the bag back into the now useless cage. Annoyed, Runt kicked his ankle. "There is a door you know!" said the halfling heatedly.
Hurm looked apologetic, and yanked the door open. Unfortunately Father M had shot the bolt home, locking it. This didn't trouble Hurm, because the bolt sheared off and fell in the dirt.
"I sent you out for a cage," said Father M. "If I'd known you were going to buy a laundry basket—"
"Don't start, all right?" snapped Runt. "It was the biggest, strongest cage they had."
"Fine, but you'd better hope we find a dragon about the size of your thumb. You can keep the thing in your pocket, and we'll leave this useless piece of junk by the side of the road."
The mule brayed in agreement.
"I don't know why we're going all the way to the rocky wastes in the first place," growled Runt. "All we have to do is find a large lizard and an even bigger fruit bat, and do a little creative sewing."
"Hurm do quest for queen," said the fighter, and that settled it.
As they set off for the main gate, Runt crossed his arms and decided not to speak again until someone was nice to him.
It was going to be a long, silent day.
Chapter 19
It was mid-morning before the queen rose from her slumber. She hadn't slept so well for ages, but her cheerful mood soon took a hit when Lord Varnish sought her out.
"Good morning, your majesty."
"It was," said the queen. Truth be told, she didn't have a lot of time for Lord Varnish. The spymaster saw enemies around every corner, and yet the land had been at peace for years. An uneasy peace, to be sure, but she was convinced Varnish only hunted spies with such vigour because he wanted to keep himself busy.
"Bad news, Your Majesty. The mechanical man was stolen from our cells in the night, and I suspect it has already been spirited away from the city."
The queen stared at him. "Are you saying someone broke into the prison and took him? Were the guards asleep at their posts?"
"They claim to have heard nothing, but I will get the truth out of them soon enough," said Varnish confidently.
"See to it. The Barks already have one member of my court in their grasp. I would not be happy with another."
"There is no proof the Barks took Tyniwon, Your Majesty."
"Oh, who else would bother? The elves would have no use for him. The stone people stopped eating human flesh centuries ago, and the other two kingdoms are so far away they might as well be situated on one of the moons." The queen set her mug down. "No, it was the Barks, I am
sure of it. Once I have proof, I will raise an army and take him back."
"Proof?" Varnish was taken aback. "How will you obtain proof?"
"Lord Varnish, you are not the only noble in this kingdom with influence. I have my own people."
"Your Majesty, it would be unwise to—"
"Unwise? How dare you!" The queen's face flushed with sudden anger. "Nobody in this kingdom, and I mean nobody, tells me what to do. Is that clear?"
Varnish seemed unmoved. "Indeed, Your Majesty. My apologies. I was just a little concerned that your people and my people might end up working against each other as they strive for a common goal."
"They're all my people, and you'd do well to remember it," said the queen coldly. "Now, if you've quite finished spoiling my breakfast—"
"I'm sorry, but there is one other matter." Varnish hesitated. "In my opinion, you are not safe in this city. There have been too many murders since your arrival. And as for this woman who broke into your chambers last night—"
"She hardly broke in, Varnish. She was just proving her value to me by sneaking through the guards." The queen frowned at him. "The guards you selected, unless I'm mistaken."
"Even so, I would like to question her."
"I will not allow it. She'd come back missing a few fingers or toes, and she's done nothing to warrant your attentions. Anyway, I knighted her, and you know the punishment for harming one of my knights."
Varnish looked unhappy, but he let it pass. He'd find out this woman's background soon enough, and if there was a shadow of a doubt over her motivations, she would be dealt with. An unfortunate mugging gone wrong was a favourite of his, because it not only got rid of his target, but also the mugger. "Your Majesty, will you at least agree to retire to the palace? There, we can protect you. Here, we can do no such thing. Already the High Priest and the Lord Chancellor have lost their lives, and—"
"Oh, come on. The High Priest's death was due to a natural disaster. Everyone knows that. And from what I've heard about the Lord Chancellor, his death has been overdue several years now." The queen took a bite of crusty bread and chewed in silence. "All right," she said at last. "I will return to the palace. Uncle will be pleased, as it will lessen the burden on his precious purse." She waved her hand. "You are dismissed."
