“I don't know who's to blame,” Stetland said. He stood and paced the floor.
“I don't believe it is safe out there,” Merek said. “If you are to return Cassandra to Kingstown on the morrow then you will need a heavy guard.”
Suddenly, the Great Hall's doors flew open, sending a boom around the expanse of the hall. Standing in the open doorway was a guard. He was clearly out of breath.
“Your Majesty,” the guard said, between pants. “There are men coming along the western walls. Kingstown men by the look. A thousand or more.”
“Wake the guards,” Sir Frederick Corbet said. “And send all the archers from the east wall to the west.”
Sir Frederick left the hall, shouting instructions as he went. The king followed, with Stetland and Marcus close behind. Once in the hallway, Stetland turned and motioned for Christian to come to. The boy was relieved as he didn't care much for Lictina and her nonstop chatter.
“I think we may have found the monks' killers,” Stetland said to Christian as they hurried through more corridors.
“You think Kingstown men killed the monks?” Christian said.
“Men baying for blood have a habit of losing their minds.”
“Why are they baying for blood?” They're Kingstown men.
“They think we are dead and that High Hunsley has something to do with Cassandra's taking.”
“What will happen?”
“We will have to convince them otherwise.”
“We have them outnumbered,” Sir Frederick said. “I will don my armour and lead my men out to defeat them. See how King Bahlinger likes that.”
“That will get us nowhere,” King Merek said. “We will talk to them. Perhaps bring Cassandra to the gate, too.”
“I doubt she will leave her uncle's side,” Stetland said.
Outside, the cold air stung Christian's cheeks. They walked through the streets, past dwellings of all shapes and sizes. A few windows glowed with candlelight, but most were dark. They made their way to the royal stables where horses awaited saddled and ready. Christian rode with Stetland, clinging tightly to his back. The west gate was just a few minutes ride away. A handful of guards had gathered at the gate and archers on the walls were flexing their bows.
Merek dismounted and went to the gate where he instructed the gatekeeper to drop the hatch.
“There could be archers, Your Majesty,” the gatekeeper said. He was called Longbeard, Christian remembered from their first encounter with him. So much has happened since then.
“I'll take the risk.”
Reluctantly, Longbeard dropped the hatch. Christian could see nothing but blackness beyond it.
“This is the king,” Merek shouted through the hatch.
There was a throng of laughs from beyond the wall. Then, when the noise subsided, a voice shouted: “How can that be? I left the only king I know back in Kingstown. Could you be just a lord playing at being king?”
Merek ignored the jibe. “The wizard bearer is here—”
Before the king could continue a loud jeer came from the Kingstown army. “King Bahlinger knew all along that the usurper of High Hunsley was in bed with the tyrant Volk,” the voice shouted again. “Bring her to me, Lord, and I will spare your life.”
“Your king is a fool if he thinks I had anything to do with the wizard bearer's taking. There are archers in the hills taking down birds. We only found your message today. Stetland and your men rescued Cassandra and brought her here. She is quite safe, I assure you...”
“Stetland? You have Stetland with you?” The voice sounded surprised.
“Yes.” The king motioned for the Dark Rider to stand with him. “I'm going to have my archers fire flaming arrows into the moat. I'm sure you want to see that Stetland is safe as much as I want to see how many of you there are out there.”
King Merek turned and spoke to one of the guards who in turn shouted to the archers on the rampart, giving instruction to light their arrows and fire on command. After the command was given, flaming arrows fell from the wall into the moat, each staying alight only momentarily, but it was enough to illuminate the landscape beyond. Christian glimpsed a mass of soldiers stretching far and wide. There must a thousand, at least, he thought.
As the light died, the voice came again: “The king will be pleased you've succeeded, Stetland, as will the people of Kingstown. Now, where is Sir John? Have him open the gates and bring the wizard bearer to me.”
“Sir John was a traitor,” Stetland said. “He is dead.”
A shocked murmur arose from the army, concealed by darkness once again.
“Dead?” the voice shouted. “By whose hand?”
Stetland paused, then said: “By my hand.”
But that's not true, Christian thought. It was Cassandra who killed him.
A jeer arose. “Just what is going on here, Stetland? I am suspicious to say the least. Bring the wizard bearer to me without delay.”
“She is inside the castle, by her great-uncle's side. Fabian was injured in the battle to free her, by Eaglen, who is a traitor too, as it happens.”
There was a shing as the man unsheathed his sword, then a chorus of similar noises as the rest of the army followed their captain’s lead. “No more follies, Stetland. Open the gate or we will scale these walls and cut off your head.”
King Merek turned to Stetland. “I'm not opening the gates to my city to an army baying for blood. They'd slay us all before we even had chance to explain.”
Then the sound of galloping hooves came drifting from the darkness beyond the wall.
CHAPTER 29
Amber Tilly saw an army gathered in front of the wall. At the sight she felt like turning her horse around and riding back into the hills. It's my fault, she thought. All of this. I'm a traitor. Men, women and children may die on this night, all because of me. That thought filled her with fear. What if they know it was me who gave Graff the information? What if they slay me before I even have chance to talk? But she had a chance to put this right, she knew. All it would take was a little bravery. The place where her finger used to be throbbed with the memory of being brave, as did her womb, which was growing a child that may be the product of an evil man. But it could be Marcus's child, she thought with hope.
Amber pulled up her horse. To her left, High Hunsley's wall towered high, caressing the moonlit, cloud-mottled sky above. Melissa Raleigh appeared beside her.
“There they are, then,” Melissa said. “We need to go and tell them the bad news.”
“That their city is being attacked, maybe as we speak?”
“Something like that, yes.”
She had heard of women being raped and killed by Kingstown soldiers. A soldier was a soldier, it seemed, no matter what side he was on.
“What if they have archers?” Amber said. Her voice was quivering; from cold or fear she did not know. “If they see us charging towards them it's likely they'll feather their bows and kill us where we stand. It's dark, they won't know we are not men.”
“That's right. It's dark. It will conceal us until we can beg them to listen. And let's face it, some of them will likely have lain with us. Come on, let's go.”
Melissa kicked her heels into her horse. With a spray of snow, she set off at a canter towards High Hunsley's west gate and the army that waited there. Amber followed.
Like Melissa had said, the men didn't see them until they were upon them. When they were spotted, a horse stepped in their way. The rider in the saddle pulled out his blade and ordered them to halt.
“Please, sir,” Amber said. “We are just women.”
“Show yourselves,” the rider said.
Amber pulled down her hood.
Another rider appeared at her side. “Pretty girls, too,” the man said. “What brings two pretty girls to High Hunsley at such a late hour?”
“I think they're whores,” another man said. “How much do you cost? Mayhap I could do with a fuck.”
“They'd cost you noth
ing,” another said. “Our mercy would be their payment.”
Another laughed. “There are enough of us here to make sure they never sit in a saddle again.”
“Take us to your captain,” Melissa said. “We have important news.”
“Our captain is busy,” one of the men said. He ran his finger up and down Melissa's left arm. She batted it away.
“You must listen to us,” Amber said. “Kingstown is in danger.”
“Said who?”
“The Warrens has fallen,” Melissa said. “And an army, at least ten thousand strong, is making its way to Kingstown.”
The rider in front of them considered this. “That's impossible.”
“It's true.” Amber said. “You need to turn your men around and go back home.”
“Go get the captain,” the rider said to one of the soldiers.
Amber shivered in the cold, feeling uncomfortable as the soldiers around her gave her leering looks.
“It's probably too late, anyway,” Amber said to Melissa. “Kingstown is likely breached. What will it mean for us, Melissa? What will it mean for all of Elt?”
“It means we need to be inside those walls.” Melissa pointed to High Hunsley's towering stone structures. “It's probably the only safe place to be right now.”
Amber was about to question how long such walls could keep out the might of Volk's ever-growing army, when a man – a knight, by the looks of him – pulled up his horse in front of them.
“What news of Kingstown?” the man said.
“It's to be attacked, tonight,” Amber said. “It may already be too late.”
“Attacked?”
“By Volk. His army is ten thousand strong.”
“That's absurd. We'd have received word.”
The soldier next to the knight said: “If what Lord Merek said about archers on the hills taking down birds is true, then we wouldn't have received such a message from anywhere.”
“We sent a bird,” Amber said, “from The Warrens.”
“Then it's likely it didn't get there,” the knight said. “How do you know of this attack?”
Amber looked at Melissa, who shrugged as if to say, tell the truth, what's there to lose?
They told the knight about Jasper Courcelle.
Amber's horse stirred restlessly.
“It would take us until the morn to return to Kingstown,” the knight said.
That will be too late, Amber thought. The knight and his army may as well stay here, join forces with High Hunsley, and defend this city instead.
“Sir?” a man shouted. The knight turned his horse. “The drawbridge has been lowered.”
“Let me speak with the king,” Melissa urged. “I'll explain the situation.”
“He's no king.” The knight looked bewildered. This wasn't a situation he expected to be in, Amber realised. “Come with me,” the knight said, turning his horse and cantering towards the gate.
Amber and Melissa followed, flanked by two soldiers.
The drawbridge was down, but the gate remained closed. Amber could see the king through a hatch. “If you enter this city,” the king said, “you are under my charge. And it's just you.” He pointed at the knight. “Your men must remain outside. They may set up camp and we'll bring them warm water.”
“Your Majesty,” Melissa said. She's always so brave. “Kingstown is under attack as we speak, by an army ten thousand strong. It needs your help.”
“Ten thousand strong?” said a man with a stubbly face by Merek's side.
“Yes. And we have need of your shelter.”
“Open the gate,” the man said.
King Merek nodded. His face was as bewildered as the knight's had been. The gate swung inwards. The knight ordered his men to remain out on the field and then cantered through the gateway. Amber and Melissa followed. The city Amber found herself in was alive with activity. Men and horses, mostly. As she wondered whether they should simply disappear into the throng of people and find themselves somewhere to sleep, a voice startled her: “Amber?”
She looked down at a soldier with a familiar face. It can't be . . .
“Marcus?” she said.
“I can't believe it's you,” Marcus said.
Without thinking, her hand went to her belly. I hope it's his.
She jumped from her horse and embraced him. After all that had happened, it felt good to have someone familiar in her arms. Aside from Melissa, everyone else I know is likely dead.
“Marcus,” someone shouted. “Come with us.”
“Find an inn,” Marcus said, backing away. “Then let the castle know where you are. I have to go now, with the king, to talk about what to do.”
“Look at you, all captain-like. Who was taken? The princess or the wizard bearer?”
“The wizard bearer. And she's safe. She's in the castle with Fabian.”
“What happened . . .” She could hardly bring herself to ask. “What happened to the men who stole her?”
“Dead.”
She felt relief in her heart. “All of them?”
“Yes.”
She ran to Marcus, taking his hand and pulling him into another embrace. She allowed herself a smile. “Now go,” she said, releasing him. “Send an army to Kingstown as quickly as you can.”
CHAPTER 30
Amy Hasbrook arrived at the castle as the moon reached its peak in the night sky; its yellow-white was tinged crimson. A blood moon, Amy thought. The night suddenly felt much colder.
A crowd was beginning to gather outside the castle gates. The townsfolk were not noisy or disorderly, but Amy decided they were not well-wishers, either. One man held a rock against his thigh, as if concealing it from view. There'll be trouble here, Amy thought. She hoped that her brothers and sisters would stay away, like she'd instructed them to do.
At the gates to the castle proper, two of the king's guards stood aside to let her pass.
“There's a crowd gathering around the front,” she told one of them.
“We have orders to remain at the gate,” the guard said. He looked young. Not much older than James, she thought.
She passed through the gates and made her way into the castle and then to the Great Hall. The room was a hive of activity. A stream of servants piled food onto a table in the centre of the room: fish, cold meats, bread. It all smells so good, she thought. Her mouth began to salivate, but she felt too sick with nerves to even contemplate eating. In the corner of the room musicians were gathering with their instruments. One man was sitting with a harp between his legs, another held a lute, and an old man was banging on a drum at his midriff held there by a piece of rope around his neck. A fire was roaring in the hearth. Two young boys were feeding the flames with logs, their faces and hands blackened with soot.
At the far side of the room, Queen Rose was standing sentinel. She watched her staff going about their duties, her face as stern as a statue carved from the hardest of stone. Amy caught her gaze. There's suspicion in her eyes, Amy realised. She turned quickly and made for the kitchens. Why had the queen looked at me? Does she know of my intentions? Does she know I'm about to lie with her husband?
Amy entered the kitchens. The air was hot. People looked flustered and moved like busy ants.
“Where have you been?” Alice Bele said. She was a plump girl with rosy, red cheeks. “I could have done with you here an hour ago.” She was a simple servant girl, like Amy, but she always spoke in a tone of voice well above her rank.
“Sorry, Alice,” Amy said. “I've been busy.”
“Well, you can blooming well busy yourself here. This damn feast is the last thing we need. What are we celebrating, anyhow? Is Cassandra back? No. Not a word about her has been spoken to anyone. I think she's dead. And them lot in there, who are going to fill their faces, they don't give a fig.”
“Don't say that, Alice. She can't be dead.” Amy thought about telling her fellow servant girl that whoever had taken the wizard bearer would most likely breed with her
rather than slit her throat, but she decided to keep quiet. “Has the king ordered his supper yet?”
“Not that I know of. Likely he will, though. And then later he’ll gorge on the banquet until he pops another button on his doublet, the fat, good-for-nothing, pig.”
“Alice,” Amy scolded. “These walls have ears. Be quiet.”
“The only thing these walls have is grease from the food we have to cook for him and his nobles.”
Alice continued to talk, but Amy wasn't listening anymore. In a short time she would have to undress in front of the king. She'd never taken her clothes off in front of anyone but her mother, and she hadn't done that since she was ten years old. The thought of seeing the king’s manhood filled her with horror. She tried to calm herself by thinking of the prize: a wage rise and a place for her family in the staff quarters. I can do this. She thought about how bold she had been at the breakfast table that morning, showing her cleavage to the king and acting like a slut. He will expect the same in his bedchamber, she thought.
“Amy?” Alice said.
“What?”
“Did you hear anything I just said to you?”
“Sorry, Alice. I don't feel too well.”
Alice shoved a plate of red meat into Amy's hands. “There's no time for you to feel ill. Take this to the table.”
As Amy was about to turn, Herman Lewis strode into the kitchen. “The king would like his supper.” He clapped his hands, twice. “Quickly, girls. Quickly.”
“I'll take it,” Amy insisted. I said that with way too much enthusiasm. She felt the weight of Alice's stare upon her.
Alice was looking puzzled; a crease had formed between her eyes. “No. You're taking the meat to the table. I'll get one of the other girls to take the king's supper.”
“Who are you to give me orders?” Amy said, placing the plate of meat back onto the table top. “I'll take the king's supper. I know the way.”
“We all know the way, Amy.”
She knows, Amy thought. She knows something's up. “But he's hardly ever grumpy with me. It's best I take it.”
Alice sighed. “Since you're so keen, who am I to deny you?” She walked away, into the throng of staff charging about the kitchen. A swirling mist of steam from the pots at boil hung above their heads. When she returned she had a bowl of vegetable soup and a hunk of crusty bread in her hands. She placed them on a wooden tray and handed it to Amy.
Battle for Elt: The Taking of the Wizard Bearer Page 26
