King's Champion

by Peter Grant

  As he drew nearer, he noticed that the man had not stirred, even though the noise the patrol had made must surely have woken him. Even when Owain squatted down at his side, Rajczak did not move. Owain frowned, and reached out to touch his cheek. It was cold, lifeless.

  With a sinking feeling in his heart, Owain turned the man over onto his back, and unwrapped his blanket. He could not detect a pulse when he felt Rajczak’s neck. He glanced at the dagger still clutched in the Graben’s hand, but its blade was clean. He hadn’t used it on himself.

  From beside him, he heard the priest-mage’s voice. “I think Ahurael was merciful to him. I suppose his weakened heart gave out as he slept. He died at peace with the Gods and himself.”

  “That was merciful indeed,” Owain agreed, rising to his feet. He stood looking down at the body for a long moment, then turned and called the cornet to join him. Maran hurried over.

  “You called, King’s Champion?”

  “Yes.” Owain told him briefly what had transpired with Rajczak the previous day. “The Graben cremate their dead warriors, as we do; but we can’t build a funeral pyre for him now. There’s too much risk of it being seen, which would give away our presence. Instead, I’m going to wrap him in his blanket and lay his body over there, in those bushes. If anything happens to me, and you come back this way, would you please stop for long enough to give him his warrior’s due?”

  “But… he wasn’t one of us, King’s Champion.”

  “Not so,” the priest-mage assured Maran. “He entered the service of Ahurael before he died.”

  “What’s more, he’s told us how to find what we’re looking for,” Owain added. “If we accomplish our mission, his help will be a big part of our success.”

  “In that case, I’ll do it – although I’d much prefer it if you were here to lead us in the doing, King’s Champion.”

  “I would too, but who knows what may happen? We’ll have to wait and see.”

  On a sudden whim, Owain took the dagger from Rajczak’s hand and set it aside. He took the knife’s sheath off the man’s belt, then wrapped his body in the blanket and carried it into the bushes, hiding it from casual observation. It might be eaten by animals, but it was the best he could do under the circumstances.

  When he emerged, he called, “All right, Maran. Send out scouts, and let’s be on our way. We’ve five hard days’ ride yet before we break out of these hills. Oh – warn the scouts that they’ll probably find several more gruefell carcasses a mile or so ahead, and the bodies of their riders. No need to come back to report them. I know how they got there, and why.”

  “Aye, King’s Champion.” The cornet spun on his heel. “All right, mount up! It’s time we were on our way!”

  Owain bent and picked up the Graben’s dagger, hefting it thoughtfully before sliding it into its sheath. He’d take it with him, he decided. He might be able to put it to better use than its previous owner had done.

  XIX

  It was raining gently when Garath pulled the Earl’s coach and its escort off the post road and into the shelter – such as it was – of a copse of trees, about two days’ ride out of Kingsholme. The troopers, by now accustomed to hard riding and makeshift camps, swiftly tethered their horses to a rope strung between two trees, removed their tack, fetched canvas buckets of water from a nearby stream for them, and half-filled their nosebags with oats that Garath had purchased in a village that morning. Only when all the horses’ needs had been met were the men allowed to look to their own.

  The Earl of Elspeth watched the activity gloomily from inside his coach. He had learned during the journey that there was no point in complaints, demands and recriminations. He would be politely ignored until the basic needs of the horses had been met. He had not even been allowed to bring any of his own servants with him. An older man-at-arms, who’d served the Baron as his orderly for several years, saw to his care, competently enough but with casual indifference, rather than the abject respect to which the Earl felt he was entitled. Not for the first time, he swore that as soon as he’d browbeaten those pitiful fools on the King’s Council into releasing him, and restoring him to his Earldom, the Baron and his son would pay for their temerity.

  It didn’t take long for the men to build two fires beneath the shelter of the damp trees. They carried dry tinder and kindling with them, which soon dried out the fallen twigs and branches they collected. They gathered around the flames, tending a pot of oatmeal and a kettle of water over one, and roasting over the other the meat Garath had also bought that morning.

  The Earl’s orderly brought him a plate of food and a mug of tisane as soon as it was ready. “Make up my bed,” the nobleman ordered testily as he took the plate and mug, without thanks.

  “I’ll do that as soon as I’ve eaten, my lord,” the man-at-arms replied evenly, turning back towards the fire.

  “Damn you! Is that the proper respect to show to your superior? If you were in my service, I’d have you whipped!”

  “Ah, but I’m not in your service, am I, my lord? As for proper respect, I reckon you’re getting as much as you deserve. You tried to kill my Baron, after all. If it was up to me, you wouldn’t have lived long enough to surrender, let alone reach Kingsholme for trial.”

  The Earl spluttered with fury as the soldier strode off to rejoin his comrades, and mentally added his name to the long, long list of those on whom he planned to revenge himself as soon as he could arrange it. He sat miserably in his coach, chewing on what, to him, was unappetizing, poorly-cooked field rations, rather than the three-course meal he would have demanded at an inn, had they stayed – as his noble rank should have required – in such places during their journey.

  Garath was finishing his food when a sentry called, “Sir, there’s three men riding towards us from the direction of Kingsholme. They’re in uniform, but I can’t make it out in the fading light.”

  He glanced at his sergeant. “Tallon, half the men can continue eating. The other half are to stand ready, just in case. It’s probably nothing to worry about, but I’d rather be prepared for anything.”

  “Aye, sir. That’s how you stay alive in this business,” the other replied approvingly.

  By the time the riders drew up in the evening gloom, half the men had vanished from sight. The leader of the new arrivals called, “I’m looking for Captain Garath of the Border Guard.”

  Garath stiffened. No-one here should know that he’d been commissioned in that regiment. Warily, he raised his voice. “That would be me. Who are you?”

  “I’m Major Warracker, also of the Border Guard. I have a letter for you from the Duke of Gehlen that will explain matters.”

  Garath snapped to attention and saluted. “Thank you, sir. Please dismount, and join us at our fire.”

  “I’ll be glad of the warmth,” the other confessed as he swung down from his saddle. He reached into his cloak, took out a scroll and handed it to Garath. “Read this, then I’ll tell you more.”

  They walked over to the fire. Garath stood next to a lantern that had been suspended from a tree branch, and read quickly. “Well, I’ll be damned! How did his grace learn of this business, sir?”

  “I gather the King’s Champion used the priest-mages of the Order to send him an urgent message. He was afraid Elspeth’s allies might try something, and it looks as if he was right.”

  “I don’t understand, sir.”

  “The Duke had the priest-mages of the Mother House keep an eye on you while you were traveling, and asked them to scan the country between the Earldom of Elspeth and here. A party of mounted men-at-arms left there the day after you departed Brackley. They’ve ridden cross-country, moving fast, and got ahead of you today. They’re setting up an ambush for you at Cardrew Pass.”

  “That’s only five miles from here.”

  “Yes. You’ll get there by mid-morning tomorrow. The Duke thinks they plan to kill you all and rescue the Earl, although what they plan to do with him, he doesn’t know yet. He sent me to
rendezvous with you, so I can tell you his plans. We hope to decoy them into attacking you, then we’ll catch them in the act.”

  “But, sir, if they attack my patrol, some of my men may be hurt or killed before they can be stopped.”

  “I doubt it. We’ve assigned fifty troopers of the Border Guard – half my squadron – to deal with them. We’ll have you turn off on the road to Massell, just before the pass. It’s a broken track in poor condition, so you won’t be able to move fast. The ambushers will know that. They’re sure to leave their positions to pursue you. That’s when we’ll hit them, before they can get organized.”

  “I see, sir.” Garath shook his head. “It seems a lot has been going on of which I knew nothing.”

  “Welcome to the King’s Army, Captain. You’ll find it’s often that way!” The Major sounded amused. “The Duke tells me that you’ve only just been commissioned in our unit, and that your previous service was in your father’s Baronial Guard. That’s an unusual way to join us, but not unprecedented; and he says you’ve had plenty of combat experience over the past few years, more than most young men. That’ll help make up for your lack of seasoning in your present rank, which I understand you received at the initiative of the King’s Champion.”

  “That’s right, sir.”

  “Well, that’s a good start. If a man like that thought you were worthy of Captain’s rank, there won’t be many who’ll gainsay him, unless you make some sort of spectacular mistake that proves him wrong.”

  “I’ll do my best to avoid that, sir.”

  “I’m sure you will. The Duke is on the far side of the Pass, waiting with the rest of my squadron. After we’ve dealt with the ambushers, he’ll tell you more. Now, we’ll make use of your fire to cook our own suppers, then bed down with you. I’ll assume command of the Earl’s escort for tomorrow’s fight.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  —————

  As they clattered up the road towards the summit of Cardrew Pass, Major Warracker turned to Garath. “Captain, the ambushers think you’re commanding the Earl’s escort. They’ll be suspicious if they see a stranger in charge, so you take the lead. Turn the patrol onto the road to Massell. I’ll be with the rear guard. As soon as the ambushers break cover to chase us, you’ll see our forces do the same to intercept them. At that point, halt the patrol, and I’ll assume command again.”

  “I understand, sir.”

  Garath forced himself not to look back as the Major and his two men halted their horses, waiting for Elspeth’s coach to pass them so they could fall in behind it. He gulped. He didn’t expect any problem in commanding the escort during the fight – he’d done similar things often enough in the past few years – but the involvement of other, more professional troops would be a new experience for him. Would he measure up to their expectations?

  He thrust his doubts aside, and raised his voice. “Close up! Close up! The turnoff to Massell is just around the next corner. Remember what I told you this morning!”

  The Earl thrust his head out of the window of his coach. “What’s that about Massell?”

  “Nothing for you to worry about, my lord. I’ll explain later.”

  “Explain now, damn you! Your men aren’t riding relaxed, as they have for the past week. They’re alert, looking around like they expect trouble. What the devil is going on?”

  “Later, my lord. Just stay in your coach and enjoy the fun.”

  Those among the escort who heard him chuckled as they tightened their ranks. A couple of troopers loosened their swords in their scabbards. “Don’t do that!” Garath scolded them. “The ambushers must think we suspect nothing. Don’t give them any clue we’re more alert than usual!”

  He rounded the corner, and saw the crest of the Pass about half a mile ahead. To the right, less than a hundred yards away, the rough track leading to the hamlet of Massell led off the main post road. He waited until they had almost reached it, then raised his hand and his voice.

  “Escort, in twos, right turn, ho!”

  He pulled his horse to one side, and watched as the first files of horsemen turned off the post road, the Earl’s coach following them with clattering wheels. He fell in next to it, looking resolutely ahead, refusing to allow himself to glance back towards the top of the Pass.

  They’d gone no more than a couple of hundred yards, the trees beginning to close in on either side of them, before he heard a shout from the crest of the post road. A group of about twenty men-at-arms burst out of the trees, riding their horses pell-mell down the slope towards them. Some waved bows and crossbows, while others carried spears or swords.

  As the new arrivals approached the turnoff to Massell, a trumpet blasted from across the main trail, and another answered it on the near side. Two smart, disciplined files of troopers emerged from both locations, deploying smoothly into line, their spear heads dropping to point directly at the unknown men-at-arms. The trumpets sounded again, the urgent call of the charge, and the two lines swept forward, trapping the attackers between them.

  As soon as Garath saw the Border Guard swing into action, he halted the escort. Major Warracker cantered forward from where he’d been riding behind the Earl’s coach. “Troopers, form a defensive ring!” he called, brisk authority in his voice. He and his two men – a Sergeant-Major and a guidon carrier – began to marshal the Brackley troopers.

  The Earl thrust his head out of his coach window once more. “Who are you? What the hell’s going on, damn you?” he shouted at the Major, who ignored him. He turned to Garath. “What’s the meaning of this?”

  “I don’t know, my lord. It looks as if we’re under attack by brigands.”

  The Earl peered at the attackers as they drew nearer, and his face flamed with sudden hope. “They’re not brigands! That’s one of my officers!” He threw open the door of the coach, standing in it, raising himself to his full height as he shouted, “Lieutenant Vorzel! To me! A rescue! A rescue!”

  As if in answer to his plea, four dark-clad shapes appeared from behind tree-trunks at the edge of the forest, thirty to forty yards from the rough track. They drew back the strings of their bows and launched four arrows, which streaked over the ring of escorting troopers, plummeting in a shallow, deadly arc towards the coach. One struck the vehicle at head height, one hit the Earl’s right arm, and two slammed into his upper body. He cried out, a high, choking sound, and fell back into the vehicle, his legs kicking convulsively, even as the ambushers vanished from sight again behind their concealing trees.

  Garath shouted instinctively, “Ware the treeline! Sergeant Tallon, six men with me!” He spurred his horse out of the ring, towards where the new ambush had revealed itself.

  “STAND FAST, CAPTAIN!” Major Warracker bellowed.

  He turned his head in disbelief as he reined in his horse. “But, sir –”

  “I said stand fast! Do not leave the formation!”

  Mouth open in astonishment, rebellion bubbling inside him, Garath forced himself to obey. Warracker urged his voice forward, pulling up alongside him, and lowered his voice. “There’s no sign of a charge from that position, so don’t go looking for trouble. We mustn’t get in the way of my troops. We daren’t risk confusion. We’ll wait here until the main fight is over.” He turned to his guidon carrier. “Check on the earl for me, Hurtas.”

  “Aye, sir!”

  Seething, but forcing himself to swallow any further objections, Garath turned to look at the post road. The two lines of Border Guards had swept together, trapping the ambushers between them. Six were lying motionless on the ground. The others had thrown down their weapons and were holding their hands in the air – all except a few who had arms trailing at their sides, blood showing on their sleeves where cuts and thrusts had disabled them. The commanding officer of the counter-ambush group was supervising as the prisoners were bound and searched.

  As Garath watched, another group of soldiers appeared over the lip of the pass and cantered down towards them. A carriage bo
unced and jolted behind them. At a signal from Major Warracker, its driver waved his hand in acknowledgment and steered his vehicle towards them, accompanied by half a dozen troopers in close escort. It pulled up beside the Earl’s carriage, and its door opened. A heavy-set man clambered down as Major Warracker sat to attention in his saddle and saluted. Behind them, Garath saw the guidon carrier climb down from the Earl’s carriage. Oddly, he was sheathing his dagger. Garath couldn’t help wondering, What the devil did he need his dagger for?

  “Greetings, your grace,” Major Warracker greeted the new arrival.

  “Good morning, Major. Is all well here?”

  “Yes, your grace. I regret to report that some of the ambushers fired arrows at the Earl, and hit him as he stood in his carriage door. He fell back inside it. I sent my guidon carrier to check. He reports that the Earl is dead.”

  “What a pity.” The voice of the new arrival was remarkably dry and emotionless, considering his words. “I suppose we’ll have to put the attackers on trial for murder, then.”

  Garath suddenly realized, with a cold certainty in his soul, that the arrows that killed the Earl had not been fired by the ambushers – and, in case they hadn’t killed him, the guidon carrier had just made sure of it. He began, “But, sir –”

  The older man glanced at him. “Who are you?”

  “This is Captain Garath, your grace,” Major Warracker introduced him. “Captain, this is the Duke of Gehlen.”

  “Ah!” the nobleman said, a wintry smile appearing on his face. “The King’s Champion spoke well of you, young man. I see he’s given you one of the commissions I approved when we last met.”

  “Yes, sir, but – about the Earl… I don’t –”

  “Get off that horse and walk with me for a moment, Captain.” The Duke’s voice was cold as iron.

  “Y – yes, sir.” Garath obeyed, falling into step beside him as they left the other troopers behind them.

  “Listen to me, young man,” the Duke began. “I would not normally explain the facts of life to someone like you. I do so only because the King’s Champion, whom I respect despite our different approaches to life, spoke up for you, and said you had great promise.