‘That’s right. You’re doing very well. Now try to listen past it. Try to listen to the sound of the wind coming up again. What does that sound like?’
‘It sounds like – it sounds like a cat, stepping on leaves.’
‘That’s right, like a cat, it’s— Oh shit!’
I opened my eyes and saw Brasti jumping on top of the forward wagon and pulling out his bow and arrows. The real ones.
‘What is it?’ Feltock asked.
‘Cats stepping on leaves,’ he said. ‘At this distance the only thing that sounds like cats stepping on leaves is a group of men trying to move quietly.’
Feltock didn’t hesitate. ‘Arm up – now, damn it! Get the horses back, get the wagons circled, carriage in the centre. Protect the Lady.’
As the men jumped to obey, Feltock asked, ‘Can you tell me how many?’
Brasti shook his head. ‘I can’t be sure, except it’s a lot more than us.’
It didn’t take long to find out, for as soon as the brigands realised that we were pulling out weapons they began to rush towards us. I could see movement in the forest on either side of us.
‘Damned trees,’ Feltock swore. ‘Can’t see a bloody thing – and we’re sitting ducks out in the open road like this.’
The men were forming up, using the cover of the wagons to prepare for a charge, if the right moment came. Brasti was looking for targets, sighting along his bow.
I saw Aline rushing to the wagon where she had put her own ‘bow’ and shouted, ‘Aline! Go to the Lady Valiana and stay there!’
I had to turn because a flurry of arrows hit the ground in front of me.
‘Do you have any more pistols?’ I asked Feltock.
‘They’re rubbish,’ he said. ‘They have to make a dozen of the damned things to get one that shoots straight. Besides, they’re single-shot; they take too damned long to reload.’
Brasti let fly an arrow and I followed its path into the forest where it hit a man in the shoulder.
‘I wouldn’t do that,’ called out a voice from the trees.
‘Yeah? Why is that?’ Feltock called out.
Arrows rained down, lodging in the dirt in front of our feet. There must have been thirty of them.
‘Damn, Feltock – why didn’t you bring more men on this journey if it’s this bad up here?’
‘Her Ladyship’s orders: ten men, counting me, and no more.’
‘Why would Valiana do that when she knew she would be in danger?’
Feltock looked me in the eye. ‘It wasn’t her – it was her mother, the Duchess. She gave the orders.’
Kest and I exchanged glances; he looked as confused as I was – maybe even more so, in fact, because he was still planning on killing Valiana.
The brigand leader shouted out again: ‘Leave the wagons and be on your way. There’s no need for bloodshed here.’
An arrow flew out of the forest and lodged itself in Blondie’s shoulder.
‘Except for him. That’s for my man you took in the shoulder. Fair’s fair, after all.’
‘We can’t leave the wagons,’ I called out. ‘The road ahead is too long and too dangerous. We’ll starve.’
‘Better you than us,’ the leader answered. ‘Every man has the right to eat and to take a measure of comfort.’
‘Says who?’ Feltock muttered.
The brigand leader had good ears. ‘Says King’s Law, my salty old friend. You can look it up yourself if you can find someone to teach you how to read.’
‘Well, isn’t he well spoken for a bandit?’ Feltock said to me.
Well spoken indeed, and right on King’s Law. Interesting.
‘Negotiation,’ I called back. ‘Every man or woman has the right to negotiation before blood.’
There was a pause.
‘Very well,’ the leader said. ‘We’ll come out, twelve of us for twelve of you, but mark that I have more than enough archers here to put you down if you try anything, and we’ll have our weapons at the ready.’
‘Marked and fair,’ I said.
They came out of the forest: rough men, mostly, with ragged clothes and beaten iron swords or wooden spears for weapons, followed last by their leader. He carried a longsword that shone when the sun hit it: no rust on that weapon. On his head he wore a brown broad-brimmed hat, weather-beaten and worn. On his back he wore a Magister’s greatcoat.
‘Bloody hells,’ Brasti said.
Feltock looked at me through narrowed eyes. He had told me as much, that some Trattari had taken on brigand ways.
‘He can’t be a Magister. He’s just killed one and taken his coat.’
‘No,’ Kest said, ‘I recognise him now. That’s Cunien from Orison. He was a cantor.’
I marked him too now. Cunien became a cantor not long after I did. As a cantor, he settled matters of law when another Magister had failed. To be a cantor, you had to be ready to go back and mete out the justice denied when another Magister had been killed or captured.
‘Well now, isn’t this a fine reunion,’ Cunien said. He ambled over to us and surveyed our company. His eyes fell on Valiana in the carriage. ‘You’re a pretty one, aren’t you? Can I have a kiss?’ Then he noticed Trin next to her. ‘Oh, my. Two for the price of one – how delightful!’
‘Don’t,’ I said. ‘No one’s been seriously hurt here yet.’
‘Why should that matter to him?’ Valiana said, leaving the carriage and striding towards us, Trin behind her.
‘My Lady—’ Feltock began.
‘Why would he care? He’s a Trattari – this is what they do, isn’t it?’ She turned on me and slapped me hard in the face. ‘That’s for all your high words and self-righteousness about what’s wrong with everyone else. You and yours are no better than anyone else – worse, even, because you look down on your betters.’
Cunien smoothed down his moustaches and smiled at Valiana. ‘Will this take long? I don’t mean to rush you, but I’d like to get a look in those wagons soon.’
‘I am the daughter of the Duchess of Hervor,’ she said, ‘and I’ll die before I let you take anything from me, tatter-cloak!’
Cunien’s voice was deadly cold. ‘That you will, girl, if you call me that again. But as much entertainment as you’re providing here, I’m afraid we’ve reached the end of our negotiations. When I saw you from the trees I was curious to see if you were really Greatcoats, or just some soldiers who had killed Magisters. But now I see you’re neither of those things. You’re just trained dogs working for the Duchess of Hervor: the bitch who had our King murdered. You’ve sunk low, First Cantor.’
‘Look who’s talking,’ Brasti said.
‘When there’s no law and no King, all you have left is a bit of food, the occasional woman and whatever small justice you can mete out in this world.’
He signalled to his men and they started to pull back towards the trees, leaving room for their archers. This was bad. He didn’t trust us, and I couldn’t speak to him with so many onlookers. I needed to know what he was doing out here with these brigands. I needed to know if any Greatcoats remained true.
‘Duel,’ I said quickly.
Cunien turned to look at me and smiled. ‘Duel? I don’t think so, Falcio. We’ll just take the wagons – feel free to fight, though. Knowing I’ve taken out a few of the Duchess’s men will keep me warm tonight.’
‘You have no choice,’ I said. ‘It’s the King’s Law.’
‘For matters of personal dispute, yes, but I don’t think killing you is going to make any difference to the Duchess, so I’ll have to settle for the wagons.’
I smiled at him and spoke loudly and clearly. ‘You’re absolutely right, Cunien. You have more men than us, and you’ll get your wagons. Of course, we’ll take out a few of your men. Brasti is the best bowman here by far, and we have a pistol. And Kest and I will take out a few before we go down. But what price is that compared to you having to fight a duel with me? You win, you get the wagons without a fight; I win, you let u
s go. But really, why take a chance on being beaten when I’m sure your men are more than willing to die to protect your pride.’
Cunien glared at me. ‘Gods, Falcio, you always were a talker, weren’t you?’
‘I think, if you give it a chance, you’ll find my blade speaks more eloquently than my tongue.’
He raised his longsword. ‘Very well, then. I always did want to see if I could beat the man who supposedly bested Kest in a fight.’
I let my rapier out of its scabbard and stepped into first guard. ‘I am at your disposal,’ I said.
Cunien didn’t adopt a guard position but walked casually around me, forcing me to change my position.
‘I have to be honest with you, Falcio,’ he said softly, almost soothingly. ‘I used to look up to you – but now all I see is a man who is a little too old and a little too soft for this kind of work. I don’t think you have the fire in your belly any more.’
‘Hey, Cunien,’ Brasti called out. ‘I don’t suppose you have an axe, do you?’
‘What?’
‘Never mind.’
Cunien aimed his point low and walked straight towards me, spinning his sword up and around in a ribbon-cut at the last second. The blade came at my neck but I lunged forward on the diagonal to my left and let it pass by without parrying it. I tried an inside thrust to his sword arm, but he brought his weapon back with a hard downwards parry that almost knocked my rapier out of my hand.
Fine, then: he wanted to get the pleasantries out of the way.
I let the point drop down and continued its motion into a windmill, bringing the blade down on his head. His own sword snaked up on a slant and caught the cut, coming back down at my own head. I lifted my rapier up with the blade parallel to the earth and we locked blades. He grabbed my sword wrist so that I wouldn’t be able to free my blade and I did the same to him and we struggled against each other for a moment.
‘This is pleasant enough,’ Cunien said, ‘but if you don’t mind, I’d like to get on with it.’
I lifted my left heel to kick his knee out, which forced him to step back and loosen his grip on my wrist. We separated again, and that allowed us to get the real conversation started.
He came at me with a harlot’s foible, a straight-on thrust that turns at the last instant to avoid the parry and returns to strike the same target. I wasn’t sure if he was serious about it so I let it through and stepped by to avoid the point. He did it again and so I circled my sword counter to his, which allowed me to envelop his blade for a moment and push it out of line. I struck side-bladed towards his chest, which would have given him a nasty cut and pushed him off-balance if he had let it through. The side-blade attack was a question, which he answered by ducking and slapping the blade up with the back of his gloved hand. So the answer was no, then.
I tried again with a feint-cut to his left thigh, pulling back the point just before his downwards parry to let his blade pass before I thrust in. The move is called the snake’s tongue, and he looked genuinely surprised by it. He responded with a half-turn, followed by several swift cuts aimed at my arms and legs, all of which I beat back easily.
And the conversation continued.
We went on like this for some time, and then I saw him leave a small opening on his right leg and I knew it was time to end this. I came in high towards his head and let him beat my blade aside with his longsword before making a hard horizontal cut at my neck. At the last instant I swung onto my back leg and dropped down into a low crouch and speared his exposed calf. He gave a yell and dropped his sword, which hit me on the top of the head. I almost stabbed him again for that, but I suppose fair’s fair.
‘Yield. It’s decided,’ I said, pulling the point of my blade out of his calf.
Cunien fell down on the ground and I saw his men tense up.
‘Stand down,’ he shouted. ‘Stand down. Fair’s fair, and this has been decided.’
His men, shabby and poor as they were, obeyed as quickly as any soldiers would have.
I sheathed my rapier and reached an arm down to help him up.
‘Damn, man,’ he said. ‘That hurts worse than I remember.’
‘You opened the target, not me. Besides, who drops his sword on another man’s head? I mean, truly, what kind of grace is that?’
Cunien smiled. ‘I couldn’t let you get away without a scrape.’ He turned and waved to Valiana. ‘Another day perhaps, my Lady! Don’t let Falcio seduce you with that fair tongue of his. If you must sleep with one of them, settle on Brasti. He has more experience.’ He turned back to his men and led them back into the forest.
‘I always liked him,’ Brasti said. ‘Good head on his shoulders.’
Feltock let out a sigh of relief and so did his men. They began moving the horses and packing up the wagons. Everyone kept their weapons out, though.
Aline was still standing there, looking at the forest, into which the brigands had vanished.
‘It’s all right, girl,’ Kest said. ‘They won’t come back.’
‘It’s not that,’ she replied.
‘What is it, then?’ I asked.
‘Well, at first I was scared – I thought you might be killed and we would lose the wagons.’
I chuckled. ‘Glad to hear you were so concerned for my safety.’
She ignored the comment.
‘But then the fight seemed to change – it didn’t look quite right to me.’
‘What do you mean?’ Brasti asked her.
‘I mean, it almost didn’t look like a fight at all. It was more like a conversation, like the blades were talking to each other.’
Kest, Brasti and I didn’t look at each other for a long moment.
‘And what do you think they said?’ Kest asked carefully.
She frowned. ‘It was hard to tell. At first it was like Falcio was asking questions and the brigand seemed to be saying “no”, and then they started going back and forth and it was too fast for me to follow.’
Brasti smiled and rumpled her hair. ‘Now there’s the mind of a silly girl at work,’ he said. ‘Let’s leave all this foolishness with swords aside and I’ll show you how to hold that bow of yours properly.’
She giggled for a second. ‘You can’t hold an imaginary bow properly or improperly. It’s just in your head.’
The way she switched from fearful to angry to childish so quickly worried me. What she had been through had been enough to drive a grown man or woman mad with terror, let alone a child, and I had no idea what this behaviour meant – or what we could do about it.
She and Brasti wandered back to the horses and Kest and I followed.
‘So,’ he said, speaking low, ‘what did Cunien have to say?’
THE PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER
‘Cunien’s looking for the King’s Charoites too,’ I said as Kest and I walked our horses behind the caravan. ‘He knew we weren’t supposed to be in this region. At first he genuinely believed we might have turned Duke’s Men.’
‘How many of us are left?’ Kest asked.
‘He didn’t know. He says he saw Quillata working a ship when he was in Cheveran.’
‘Quillata? In Cheveran? Doesn’t she hate water?’
‘I’m not sure if he meant her or not, now that I think about it. It was one of the original twelve, and a woman – so he might have meant Dara. You know it’s not a very precise language.’
‘So has he found any signs of the jewels?’
I sighed. ‘No. He’s been moving steadily north and found himself in a bit of a jam when he was taken by that band of brigands.’
‘So now he leads them?’
‘He convinced them he could provide them with a better living than his predecessor,’ I said.
‘How did he manage that?’
‘He killed his predecessor.’
Kest’s eyes narrowed, but I put up a hand. ‘He swears the man was a butcher and it was a fair fight. Anyway,’ I said, and stopped to pull Monster away from what was left of the bush
she’d taken a fancy to. She gave me one of those strange growls of hers to remind me that we had a truce, not a relationship. ‘Anyway, Cunien’s band has grown solidly since he’s been able to keep them better fed and less wounded.’
‘He has the makings of a small army there,’ Kest mused.
‘Forty men, well trained and armed. But he’s moving them further north as he searches for word of the Charoites. Since we don’t know what they look like, they could be anywhere, and knowing King Paelis, they’re as likely to be in a small village as a great city.’
‘Has he managed to find out if there are more than one of these Charoites?’
‘No, but I suspect there is. Paelis liked to spread his bets, didn’t he?’
Kest looked at the twilight sky. ‘Falcio, how are we supposed to find these things? Five years now, we’ve been living on rumours and gossip and hope. What are the chances, really, that we’ll ever find anything?’
‘I don’t know,’ I admitted, ‘but we’d better do it before the Dukes finally solidify their hold on the throne. This “Council of Regents” isn’t going to serve them half as well as a genuine Queen in their pocket. With Tremondi dead, and the possibility of the Greatcoats becoming wardens of the trade routes with him, there’s really nothing stopping them.’
‘Then why not kill Valiana and at least slow them down?’ Kest asked. I admired him for using her name when he was talking about murder.
‘Has it occurred to you that she is not actually the best choice?’ I asked.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, if you had plotted for almost eighteen years to take over the kingdom with a puppet Princess as the sovereign, wouldn’t you – I don’t know – train her a little better?’
‘She’s reasonably petty and vain – what qualifications does she lack in your mind?’
I thought about that for a moment. ‘Cruelty,’ I said finally. ‘I mean, wouldn’t you have expected someone a little more calculating?’
‘I don’t know, but I think you’re reaching here.’
‘Describe her mother,’ I told Kest.
‘The Duchess of Hervor?’ And when I nodded, he went on, marking each property on his fingers, ‘Cold, calculating, but also brilliant – and bold, too. She’s a tyrant’s tyrant.’
Traitor's Blade (The Greatcoats) Page 30
