Jorundyr's Path: Wolf of the North Book 2

by Duncan M. Hamilton

  ‘I’m so, so sorry, my lord. I wanted to come sooner, but I knew you needed time to yourself.’

  ‘It’s a difficult thing to bear. First his mother, now him. But Aenlin still lives, and she is all I have. Petr is gone—’ he choked back a sob ‘—and there is nothing we can do about that. Aenlin is my life, and all that I do is for her. She and Petr were inseparable and the coming days and weeks are going to be very hard on her. She adores you. I doubt she could have loved her mother more, and I have a request to make of you.’

  ‘I’ll help however I can, my lord.’

  ‘I know we’ve done our best to leave you as much time to pursue your studies as we can, but for the next few weeks I’d ask you to put them on hold and be here for Aenlin whenever she needs you. I wanted to ask you first before I did anything, but I will speak to your professors to make sure it isn’t a problem.’

  She knew there was no choice to make. The wound of loss was still open on her heart. Anything she could do to ease the suffering of another, she would do.

  ‘It would be my privilege,’ she said.

  PROFESSOR KENGIL

  ‘You’re certain you didn’t mention my name?’ Kengil said. She probed the man’s kidney area with her fingers.

  ‘No, Doctor, I didn’t,’ he said.

  ‘And you didn’t say anything at all about your condition?’

  ‘No, Doctor. Only that I’d been poorly for a while. I let her work out the rest for herself, just like you told me.’

  ‘Good,’ Kengil said.

  ‘Am I cured?’ the man asked.

  Kengil stepped back and looked him over. His breathing was better. Almost normal. All the inflammation of his kidneys had subsided and his colour looked far better.

  ‘I’ll have to study another urine sample under the microscope to be sure,’ Kengil said, ‘but it looks as though your symptoms are going away.’

  The man beamed a smile. ‘That’s the best news I’ve ever had, Doctor. Thank you. She was just as good as you promised she would be.’

  She’s better than good, Kengil thought. If the urine sample showed no trace of blood, she would have the proof she needed to take to the Intelligenciers.

  AETHELMAN

  Aethelman knew his task was a dangerous one, and the temptation to seek Adalhaid’s help was strong. An ally in a hostile land was always a welcome thing, but he could not put her at risk unless it was absolutely necessary. That time might come, but first he wanted to exhaust all other options.

  Noble courts were open affairs. So long as you looked like you belonged there, almost everyone would assume you did. Any free man was at liberty to come to the palace in order to seek audience with his overlord, but some would draw more attention from the palace guards than others. Dressed as he was, Aethelman had no difficulty walking into the palace, announcing himself as Gustav dal Aetheldorf to a guard who paid him little attention. It continued to amaze Aethelman what could be achieved with nothing more than a good suit and a dash of attitude.

  The palace was where the Stone continually drew him. It moved about, but it always returned to the palace. His fear that it was being used was tempered by the fact that if someone unleashed its full power, everyone in the city would know about it.

  He wandered about the public areas of the palace for the better part of the morning, trying to home in on the pull that tugged on the very fibre of his being, but at so close a proximity, it was difficult. At times, it felt as though the Stone was everywhere. Just as he was about to give up for the morning, he spotted the man he was looking for. He was tall and slender, dressed in fine black clothes, and walked with the swagger of a professional swordsman. Aethelman could feel the Stone move with him. The eyepatch was still there, and Aethelman found it shamefully satisfying that Rodulf hadn’t been able to regrow his eye with help from the Stone. He wondered briefly how Rodulf had come to possess it and when, but it didn’t matter. He had it, and Aethelman had to get it back.

  47

  WULFRIC

  They headed west, along the road Varada assured them would bring them to dal Valeriano. Wulfric had given up being suspicious of her. There was nothing about her conduct that said she was leading them into a trap, and she had already let numerous opportunities to kill them all pass her by. They travelled through farmland and wilderness, arriving at a small village early on the second day of their journey. The place was starting to come to life, and they were greeted with curious stares. They had maintained their disguise as being travelling merchants, but the reality was that warriors always stood out—particularly when, with the exception of Walt, they were all fair of complexion.

  ‘Why are they ignoring us?’ Wulfric said.

  At first he thought it nothing more than the normal reaction of people unaccustomed to seeing strangers, but the village was on a main road west so the locals should have viewed their arrival as an opportunity to make money. When they stopped in a small square surrounded by beige cut-stone buildings, no one approached them.

  ‘Who knows? Who cares? Anyone see anything resembling a tavern?’ Conrat said. ‘I’m parched.’

  Enderlain mumbled something obscene in agreement.

  ‘No,’ Wulfric said. ‘Something’s not right.’ A chill ran over his skin, reminding him of the sensation he had felt when he encountered the belek.

  ‘Seems to have got quiet all of a sudden,’ Enderlain said.

  ‘Perhaps we should keep going,’ Jagovere said. ‘Doesn’t look like they take kindly to visitors here.’

  ‘I think it’s too late for that,’ Wulfric said.

  A group of horsemen had appeared at the far end of the square. He looked back to see a similar-sized group appear at the end they had come in through.

  ‘I can’t help but think these fellows were waiting for us,’ Jagovere said.

  ‘How could they have known?’ Wulfric said.

  ‘Perhaps someone spotted me in Torona,’ Jagovere said.

  ‘Why not deal with you there and then?’ Wulfric said.

  ‘Who knows?’ Varada said. ‘We can discuss it later.’

  ‘If there is a later,’ Enderlain said with a light-hearted and fatalistic laugh.

  Two of the men at the far end of the square rode forward, but stopped a safe distance from them.

  ‘I am Alfonse, Sherriff of Torona. In the name of Duke Almar dal Valeriano y Torona, I order you to throw down your weapons.’

  Wulfric rode forward, pleased to see them urge their horses back a few paces to keep their distance. ‘Or what?’ he said.

  ‘Or we will use force to take you into custody.’ The man spoke with a confidence that his body language failed to back up.

  Wulfric looked back to the others, but they remained silent. They all knew that to allow themselves be taken into custody was as good as cutting their own throats.

  Wulfric turned back to the horseman. ‘Please do.’

  The constable looked confused. ‘Please do what?’

  ‘Use force,’ Wulfric said, drawing his sabre and spurring his horse forward.

  The constable’s face was a picture of panic for a moment, until he gathered his wits and ordered his men to attack. The small square filled with the noise of men shouting and horses galloping on the sun-baked ground. He had barely drawn his sword by the time Wulfric reached him. It seemed he expected Wulfric to stop and fight, but Wulfric kept going toward the men behind him, slashing as he passed. He felt the blade slide across hard leather, then grip and cut through into soft flesh. He pulled it free with a splatter of blood, and roared at the men before him. They hesitated at seeing their commander cut down, but were smart enough to realise Wulfric was too close to turn and flee from him.

  They formed a wall of flesh and steel, knee touching knee. Wulfric could see they expected him to swerve off to the side. He drove his horse toward the centre. He could feel its hesitation, but it obeyed his commands. He drew his dagger, guiding the horse with his knees, and fixed his gaze on the man in the centre. H
e looked confident, but as Wulfric grew ever closer the confidence leaked away. He pulled his horse hard to the side at the last moment. Wulfric plunged through the gap, lashing out with his dagger to the left and his sabre to the right. Wulfric felt the blades connect, and heard two screams. Then he was past them.

  Wulfric wheeled around quickly, and got his first look at how things had unfolded behind him. Enderlain had followed him and dispatched the man who had ridden forward with the constable, and was finishing off the third of the men who Wulfric had ridden through. There were six others at the far side of the square. The others had engaged them, but Varada had hung back. Wulfric wondered why as he turned his horse and rode back into the square to help his comrades. Did she expect them to shoulder the burden of danger and deliver her safely to kill dal Valeriano?

  It was three against four by the time Wulfric got there, although Sander had dropped back with a cut to his sword arm. The Estranzans, having seen the fate of their constable and comrades, took advantage of Sander’s withdrawal and turned to run. Jagovere hacked one of them down, the final three men making it to the square’s exit before Wulfric and Enderlain cut them off and pounced. They died easily, as men fleeing their attackers always did.

  Wulfric and Enderlain returned to the square, where the others were already checking the dead men and their horses for anything that might be of value.

  ‘I don’t suppose you kept one of them alive,’ Jagovere said.

  Wulfric looked at Enderlain, and they both shrugged.

  ‘So much for finding out how they knew where we were,’ Jagovere said. ‘Still, nothing we can do about it now.’

  ‘It makes no difference,’ Walt said, his gaze firmly fixed on Varada. ‘The answer’s obvious. That bitch didn’t so much as lift a finger to help.’

  ‘If you had needed my help to deal with some constables, then you clearly aren’t the right men for the task ahead,’ she said, completely unfazed by the accusation being levelled at her.

  ‘She’s worked for Valeriano before,’ Walt continued. ‘What’s to say she isn’t still taking his coin?’

  ‘She could have betrayed us at Torona,’ Wulfric said, ‘where a fight would have been far harder. Or not bothered to help us at all.’

  ‘Who’s to say the Darvarosian didn’t pay her to lead us into a trap?’ Conrat said. He rarely said anything, and only when he thought it important.

  With the weight of opinion turning against her, Varada backed her horse away.

  ‘I could have left you to die on the plain,’ she said. ‘I could have poisoned your water. I could have cut your throats while you slept. I could have paid a dozen men to slaughter you on any number of occasions. If I had wanted you dead, you would be dead. Be very sure of that. I have killed men smarter, stronger, and braver than any of you. I wouldn’t have arranged for a handful of badly armed constables to try and arrest you. What type of fool do you take me for?’

  Conrat blushed, and said nothing further, but Walt continued to glower at her.

  ‘It’s more likely we were spotted in Torona,’ Jagovere said. ‘They could have been tracking us ever since. With a bit of luck, that will be the last of it before we get to dal Valeriano.’ He looked around and nodded at a sign swinging gently in the breeze. ‘How about we have that drink now?’

  WALT

  ‘I’m taking a piss,’ Walt said. He left the others at the tavern table without another word and walked stiffly toward the back in search of a privy. He was greeted by the stench of stale urine when he walked outside, but he ignored it and breathed deeply to still his nerves, which had been on the point of breaking ever since they had gotten through the attack. That the finger of blame had not been pointed at him yet felt like a miracle. Surely his guilt must have been as obvious on his face as his nose. The question was what to do now. Break and run? Act like nothing had happened? Were the constables the only men sent after them? If they were, then perhaps he might be able to get away with having warned dal Valeriano.

  The word treachery sprung to mind when he thought of it, but he refused to accept it. He had to look out for himself. No one else would. The Company was gone, and at his age he was unlikely to get taken on by another. He cursed as he tried to work out what to do next. With nothing springing to mind, he took several more breaths and gave his eyes a moment to adjust from the tavern’s gloom, then looked around for the privy ditch. His absence would be noted if he took too long.

  The door opened and closed behind him. Walt spun around and reached for his sword.

  ‘Easy, friend,’ the man who had come out said. ‘Just looking to take a piss.’

  Walt relaxed, but the man paused and looked at him with an expression of recognition that was theatrical, and obviously contrived.

  ‘Walt?’ he said.

  ‘What of it?’ Walt said, his hand drifting back toward the handle of his dagger.

  ‘The duke sends his regards.’ The man doffed his hat. He held his hands up defensively as soon as he saw Walt make to draw his weapon.

  ‘The duke would like to thank you for your warning and make you an offer.’

  ‘He made a right mess of things,’ Walt said. ‘I expect he hoped I’d end up dead too, so he wouldn’t have to pay up. Well, I will be dead if them inside find out I sent that message, so you better be here to pay up.’

  The man shrugged. ‘We didn’t think anything worthwhile would come from it, but it was worth a try. The duke will make good his debt to you, but will need some more help.’

  ‘He’ll have to pay for it.’ Walt relaxed again, and let go of his dagger, but continued to regard the man suspiciously.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘What’s the offer?’ he said. ‘You already know where we are.’

  ‘It’s where we want you to be that’s the issue right now. Ten miles or so up the road, you’ll come to a fork. Make sure you and your friends take the right turn, and follow the road toward Belroso heading north. It’s the fastest route toward the duke, so you should have little difficulty making a case for it. Even the Darvarosian whore will agree with you.’

  ‘How much?’ Walt said.

  The man pulled a purse from his belt. ‘One hundred crowns now, another hundred after.’

  It was enough to buy him a small patch of land, or put a down payment on something a little more substantial. Walt licked his lips, but tempting as it was, there was a glaring question.

  ‘After what?’ he said.

  The man raised an eyebrow and smiled. He took a strip of red cloth from his pocket and handed it to Walt.

  ‘Wear this somewhere about your person. Somewhere visible, so you can be recognised. You won’t be harmed, but you’d be well advised to stay out of the way.’

  Walt hesitated for a moment, then took it.

  ‘Can I inform the duke you agree to the arrangement?’ the man said.

  ‘One-fifty now. The same after.’

  The man smiled, and took a smaller pouch from his pocket. He tossed it over and Walt caught it.

  ‘Tell His Grace he has a deal.’

  48

  WULFRIC

  ‘You’re looking particularly dashing today, Walt,’ Jagovere said. ‘Red is very definitely your colour.’

  Walt tugged at the red sash wrapped around his waist, the ends of which were draped over his thigh. ‘Sword belt’s chafing,’ he said.

  ‘Heat, sweat, middle age spread,’ Jagovere said. ‘It all plays its part.’

  ‘Piss off,’ Walt said.

  ‘Lighten up,’ Jagovere said as he stopped his horse. ‘Which way now?’ He gestured to the fork in the road before them.

  Walt opened his mouth.

  ‘The northern road will get us to dal Valeriano faster,’ Varada said. ‘I’ve passed through this area before.’

  Walt closed his mouth and thought for a moment. ‘Anything that puts the bastard in his grave sooner sounds like the right choice to me.’

  ‘Where does the southern road go?’ Wulfric said. �
�Other than south,’ he added, before Jagovere could state the obvious.

  ‘It passes through a couple of villages, then joins back with this one,’ Varada said. ‘The road is far longer.’

  ‘If there’s anyone waiting for us, the northern road is the obvious choice,’ Wulfric said. ‘We should take the southern.’

  ‘We’ve no reason to believe he knows we’re coming,’ Walt said. ‘No reason for there to be anyone waiting for us.’ He involuntarily glanced at the red cloth tied around his waist. ‘Jagovere said it’s most likely the constables followed us from Torona. Why make life harder than it needs to be?’

  Wulfric looked to Jagovere, who shrugged.

  ‘He’s right,’ Jagovere said. ‘The constables must have followed us from Torona. There’s no other way. They know the land better so they could have gotten ahead of us easily enough. I want to get home as much as any of you. Right now I can’t think of a good reason not to take the northern road. Anyone disagree?’

  No one said anything, so Jagovere looked back to Wulfric, his eyebrows raised.

  ‘The northern road it is,’ Wulfric said.

  ADALHAID

  Adalhaid sat on the chair by Aenlin’s bed, watching her sleep. It had come mercifully, without any assistance from the Markgraf’s physician, but it did little to ease Adalhaid’s worry. The physician sat on the other side of the bed, maintaining a vigil even more strict than her own. Between him and a colleague, not a minute of Aenlin’s day went unwatched. They worried Adalhaid, though. They were the type of old-fashioned physician Jakob often complained about—entrenched in practices that should have long since been abandoned. However, as a student physician it was not her place to comment on men who had nearly a century’s experience between them.

  Since Petr’s death, Aenlin had not left her bed, doing nothing during her waking hours other than sobbing beneath her bedsheets. She had to be force-fed, and even then, only gruel. That morning the physicians had noticed she was feverish. Adalhaid was hopeful that all the sleeping draughts they had given her were the cause, and that it would pass after a night of natural sleep.