King's Champion

by Peter Grant

  “I’m not sure…” The very thought made Owain feel reluctant. “I’ll consider it during our journey to Kingsholme. I’ll leave here the torc I captured from that Graben prince, too, and all the raiders’ arm rings. Please keep them safe for me until we return. Will you inter Sigurd’s ashes in your own crypt as a temporary measure, until I can rebuild his cairn somewhere safe?”

  “Of course,” the Abbott agreed, rising to his feet. “Now, let’s look at your weapons, then you can go about making your arrangements before we leave.”

  XI

  Owain was pleased to find Major Achel at Brackley Castle when he returned. “I thought you might be back,” he greeted the Major with a smile.

  “Yes. The Earl was very angry upon hearing the Seneschal’s report that we’d acceded to your wishes without a fight – ‘surrendered’, as he put it. The Earl dismissed all of us from his service, saying he had no use for so many men-at-arms now that we’d abandoned our post, and refused to make up our back pay before hounding us out of Elspeth Castle. Unfortunately for him, that means there are now many former men-at-arms making their way out of his Earldom, nursing a grudge against him. Some are in a mood to take what they’re owed from his people, by fair means or foul, since they can’t get it from him.”

  Owain grimaced. “That’s going to be a real headache for his remaining men-at-arms, particularly since they doubtless have friends among those discharged.”

  “Quite so. I picked eighty of the best of my sergeants, corporals and men-at-arms, and told them of your invitation. Many of them had family here who hadn’t yet followed them back to the Earldom, so it was no hardship for them to return here. The Baron’s already started making inquiries about us all. He’s promised to take into his Baronial Guard all whose earlier behavior here is vouched for by the residents of the Barony. Meanwhile, he’s housing us in two of the barracks behind the castle that the Earl of Elspeth so thoughtfully built for his use.” Achel grinned. “The Baron warned us that he’d put on trial anyone accused of abuses by his people. Several of my men-at-arms and a corporal took their leave at once. I’m willing to bet the others aren’t guilty of any transgressions.”

  Owain couldn’t help laughing. “That was a canny move. I’ll give you all a month’s wages to make up for at least some of what you’ve lost over this.”

  “On behalf of my men – the Baron’s men now, in all but name – I thank you,” the Major said very sincerely.

  “There’s a reason for my generosity. I’ve got a special job for you, and for some of the best men-at-arms you can find. Where’s the Baron?”

  “He and his son Garath went out to the stables behind the Castle a short while ago.”

  “Let’s join them there.”

  They found them leaning against the fence of a paddock, watching trainers working with several yearling horses. The young animals were being harnessed to light carts and taught to draw them around the paddock, becoming accustomed to the load and learning basic commands. Owain knew they wouldn’t be expected to pull drivers in the carts, or carry riders, until they were two years old or more, depending on their size.

  The Baron turned as he heard them approach, and his face broke into a smile. “Welcome back, Owain! It’s good to see you again.”

  “And you, my lord.” They clasped hands wrist-to-wrist in soldier fashion. “How goes the work of getting your Barony back into good order?”

  “It goes surprisingly well. For all I despise Elspeth for a greedy fool, he appointed a good administrator in Seneschal Kayter. There’s been general relief at my announcement of a tax holiday for the coming year. The Earl’s imposts were much higher than mine, to support his larger force and remit an annual levy to the Earldom, as well as the usual taxes to Kingsholme. I see you’ve already encountered Major Achel. He’s brought some good men-at-arms with him. I’ll probably hire most of them once my people have had a chance to confirm that none of them committed any crimes during their prior service here. If they were good soldiers before, I think they’ll be accepted by the people of this Barony in my service. Their former employment won’t be held against them.”

  Owain nodded. “That’ll make it easier for you to find the men you need to expand your Baronial Guard. I have a favor to ask of you concerning that. Can we walk out into the field, where others won’t be able to overhear us?”

  “Certainly. Do you want Garath to come as well?”

  “Yes, please – he’ll be part of this.”

  Garath looked pleased as he followed his elders into the field, away from the paddock. Owain led them a hundred yards away from the trainers and their young horses before he stopped.

  “I want you to recruit and train a very special patrol,” he began. “It’s going to work directly for me. I’ll either enlist its members into the Royal Bodyguard, using my status as honorary Colonel of that regiment, or obtain posts for them in the Border Guard. I’ll be arranging that over the next few weeks in Kingsholme while they’re recruited and trained here, initially as members of your Baronial Guard.

  “I want up to twenty men-at-arms, divided into four teams, each with a sergeant in charge and a corporal to help him. Each team must have an arbalestier, plus at least one archer with a composite horse bow. Two would be better, or one horse bow and one crossbow. The rest are to be armed with spears or halberds – their choice – and everyone’s to have sword and dagger. They’ve all got to be experienced veterans and very good horsemen, able to spend many days in the saddle, riding long and hard. They’ve got to know how to move swiftly through rough country, hiding from enemy observers and spying out the land. They’ve got to be able to care for their horses – they’ll have two each – and alternate between them, to keep both in good condition. If separated from the patrol, they must be able to think for themselves, not panic in the absence of officers, and make for an agreed rendezvous across unfamiliar territory. Each team must be able to function on its own for several days if given a task to carry out, such as reconnoitering an area or feature, then report back to the patrol with what they’ve learned.”

  The others’ faces had grown longer as they listened to Owain’s litany of requirements. “That’s a tall order,” the Baron observed. “You don’t just want the sort of people I’d normally have in my Guard – you want better than that.”

  “Yes, I do. I’m afraid I may end up stealing some of your best to fill the ranks of this patrol. For example, you mentioned that Maran would have been a troop sergeant by now in regular service. If he’s that good, I’d like to ask for him to be assigned to this patrol in that rank, unless there’s someone better able to fill that role. I’ll pay the men well, too – four silver cruzados a month for men-at-arms, six for corporals, eight for sergeants. There’ll be a bonus of a gold cruzado for every man when we set out on our mission, and another when we return. Any who are killed or badly hurt will receive two more, to help their families. I’ll deposit the cruzados with you for payment, in case anything should happen to me. After our return, the men-at-arms will go onto the regular pay scales of their parent regiment, or revert to your Baronial Guard if they prefer.”

  “At those rates, you’ll have good men flocking to join you,” Achel observed, “particularly if they’ll end up in a regular Army regiment. Even so, we may have trouble finding as many as twenty who are as good as you’re looking for.”

  “If you can’t, you can’t. Do your best, but quality’s more important than quantity. If I must make do with fewer men, so be it. I’ll see if I can find a few more good soldiers in Kingsholme, and bring them back with me. Baron, what are your plans for Major Achel?”

  “I’ll have him work with me in re-forming and training my new Baronial Guard. If I’m satisfied with him, I’ll appoint him to be its Commanding Officer in his present rank.”

  “Thank you, my Lord,” Achel said gratefully.

  “I understand your need of him,” Owain said carefully, “but I may need him even more in the short term, if you can spar
e him. If you can, I’d like him to lead the patrol under my command.” He looked at Achel. “I know such a small unit would normally be led by a Lieutenant, or at most a Captain, but I’ll need someone experienced and seasoned. The people here spoke well of you, and I appreciated the way you handled our confrontation last week, so I’m willing to trust you with the job. Garath will serve as your Lieutenant. Part of your task will be to add to the training and experience he’s already had as a Lieutenant in his father’s Baronial Guard. Train him well enough that he could take over command of the patrol if anything happened to you, or take half of it out on detached service if necessary.”

  Achel nodded. “I’ll be honored to serve under your command, King’s Champion, if the Baron can spare me.”

  “I don’t want to, but I’ll just have to cope without you until you return,” the Baron sighed.

  “Thank you, my Lord,” Owain replied. “There’s something more. You gathered up the weapons of the Graben raiders you killed. Were they of good Southron steel and manufacture?”

  “Yes, they were. How did you know?”

  “The weapons I took from the four raiders at the inn were the same. I’d like the members of this patrol to have their pick of those captured weapons. They can keep the weapons they select as their personal property – they won’t have to return them. They’re probably better quality than standard issue equipment.”

  The Baron frowned. “They are – much better. I’d hoped to sell most of them to raise more money to keep the Barony going this year, before resuming normal tax collections next year.”

  “I’ll buy them from you, then, at a fair price. It’s important that this patrol have the very best available. The same applies to their weapons, armor, horses, tack and other equipment. I know it’ll be costly, but I’ll bear the expenses – or, rather, the Graben will, out of what I captured from them. I still have several hundred gold cruzados’ worth of their money. Fifty should cover everything I need and more. I’ll leave that with you, plus fifty more, over and above the hundred I’ve already promised you. The balance can go towards recruiting and training more men for your Baronial Guard. We don’t yet know what threat we’re facing, so I suggest you prepare for the worst. I think your Guard should be at least two hundred strong, and I recommend more than that, if you can find that many good men, and afford to hire and train them.

  “Outfit my patrol well, including tough field clothing that will blend in with the countryside – no bright colors. Provide each man with two of the best horses you can find, brown, bay or dun-colored so they’ll not stand out. They must be fast, but with good stamina, able to cover rough country quickly for long distances, and agile across broken or hilly terrain. They’ll need one riding saddle per man, with saddlebags and bedroll, plus a light pack saddle to carry supplies on the second horse. One man-at-arms per team should be trained as a farrier, to look after the horses’ hooves. We’ll carry spare horseshoes with us. You’ll have to have those made, one set per horse, plus tools and nails.

  “You’ve got only two months to raise the unit and equip and train the men, which is why you’ll need to start with experienced soldiers. I need them to be ready for action by two weeks after Midsummer Day. I hope to be back here by then, or soon afterwards. We’ll head out at once, and be gone for several weeks.” He hesitated a moment. “You must make it clear to them that we’re very likely to have to fight for our lives at least once, perhaps several times, although I’ll do my best to avoid contact whenever possible. It’s possible that some of us won’t be coming back, and others will probably be hurt. I’d prefer to have as few married men as possible, for that reason.”

  The Baron was bursting with impatience. “But where on earth are you going, that you expect to have to fight like that? We’re not at war!”

  “Those who attacked your camp weren’t technically at war with you either, were they?”

  “Well… no.”

  “I’m going to try to find out why they attacked you. I won’t say where I’m going, so if anyone asks, you can truthfully say you don’t know, but I’m sure you can use your imagination. The Kingdom needs to know more about its danger; what it is, and how big it is, and when and where it may strike. I fear those blocking the expansion of the Army may try to stop any official expedition, so I’ll do this on my own authority and initiative. What’s more, I won’t even ask them to fund it, because they’d almost certainly refuse. Instead, I’ll pay for it out of the Graben loot I captured.”

  Major Achel burst out laughing. “If you don’t mind my saying so, King’s Champion, I can see where you get your reputation of preferring to ask for forgiveness rather than permission.”

  “I don’t mind. It’s true, after all. It’s usually produced better results for me than hanging around like a lost fart in a thunderstorm, waiting for someone else to make up his mind.” He looked back at the Baron. “You may wish to reconsider your request that I take Garath with me. I can’t pretend he’ll be safe on this mission.”

  “That’s for him to decide. Garath, what say you?”

  “With your permission, Father, I’ll go with the King’s Champion,” his son said firmly. “I’m already learning a lot from him, and I’m sure I’ll learn more about military matters from Major Achel. As for the danger…” He shrugged. “We weren’t exactly safe in the forest, were we?”

  “No, we weren’t; and if the Graben are up to something that threatens the Kingdom, you won’t be safe from it here, either. Very well, my son, you can go.”

  “I want you to work with Major Achel, and learn from him, over the next couple of months,” Owain informed the young man. “By the time I get back, I expect you to be able to take half the patrol off on independent duty for a week or so, then rejoin us and report back. You’ll have to earn the respect of your men-at-arms if you’re to do that. Experienced soldiers won’t trust you merely because you have the title of officer. They’ll expect to see your quality in action every day.”

  Garath looked worried. “I suppose I’ve got a lot to learn.”

  “You have, but your father and Major Achel – and Maran and the other sergeants – will be good teachers. In fact, make sure you spend a lot of time watching the sergeants at work and asking questions. They’ll teach you more about practical soldiering than any manual or course of study.”

  The Major nodded emphatically. “Truer words were never spoken! That’ll also help you to earn the soldiers’ respect. Once they see that you really want to learn, rather than being a stuck-up head-in-air know-it-all, you’ll find them much easier to work with.”

  “When are you leaving for Kingsholme?” the Baron asked.

  “In two days.”

  “May your journey be successful, then.”

  “Amen to that!”

  XII

  “The King’s Champion, my lord!” The flunky announced Owain with a flourish as he threw open the double doors to the Duke of Gehlen’s office.

  “I bid you welcome, sir Champion,” the Duke said as he rose from behind his desk. He grinned sardonically as he added, “You seem to have an uncanny knack for throwing large quantities of cats among even greater numbers of pigeons.”

  Despite his instinctive wariness around a man whom he knew to be utterly ruthless in pursuing what he saw as the security of the Kingdom, irrespective of considerations of law or morality, Owain couldn’t help chuckling. “I presume you’re referring to the Council meeting yesterday, my lord?”

  “Yes. Your… shall we say, lack of tact and delicacy appears to have ruffled a lot of feathers.”

  “That was what I had in mind, my lord. They hadn’t taken any action, after no less than three weeks spent discussing our news and evidence, so I thought it was time to rub their faces in it.”

  “You certainly did that!” The Duke ushered him to a group of comfortable armchairs set around a table in the corner of the room, and sat down next to him. “I can’t say I blame you. The Council has become somewhat… ossified over t
he years. Many of its members should have been replaced a long time ago, but His Majesty wouldn’t hear of it.”

  “Dare I say he’s reported to have become somewhat ossified himself, my lord?”

  The Duke frowned. “Not in my hearing! Like it or not, he’s our sovereign. Our job is to support him, not denigrate him by gossiping behind his back.”

  “That wasn’t my intention, my lord, but we do need to face facts.” Owain’s voice was blunt. “He came to the Throne three years after our peace with the Qitharan League. He’d been kept out of the fighting, to ensure the succession if his father, the late King, had been killed in the wars. He never saw for himself the reality of battle, and what such threats to the Kingdom might involve. I haven’t seen him for well over a decade, but I’m told his mind isn’t what it used to be. If that’s the case, my lord, has a Regency been considered?”

  The Duke sighed. “It has, informally, but… let’s just say that the status quo suits a great many people who are making hay while the sun shines, and don’t want to be bothered by anything else.”

  “I feared as much, but that doesn’t mean a Regency might not be the best way forward.”

  “Perhaps, but anyone suggesting that will be as welcome at Court as a skunk at a wedding reception.”

  Owain laughed. “A nice turn of phrase, my lord – and yes, I realize that, but it doesn’t change the reality of the situation.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. You’ve never worried about court etiquette.”

  “No, I haven’t. I’ve always let my actions speak for me, rather than my words.”

  “And they’ve certainly done that, although in recent years, memories of your deeds had begun to fade. Your recent heroics have certainly dusted them off again!”