by Guy Antibes
“Steady, lad,” his mentor said.
Restella pulled out dress gloves and put them on and then she extended her hand. Lotto gulped and extended his. He had no choice at all. They clasped hands. Lotto noticed the sheen on Restella’s own forehead. The link through the Moonstone gave him an inkling of the panic she felt, but it did not show in her expression. He could still feel the intensity of the link through her gloves.
They released their handshake and Lotto fought off the urge to feel himself for signs of shrinkage, but there were none. His fears didn’t materialize and perhaps it would have to be skin to skin.
The crowd roared with approval. The Chamberlain called an end to Court and the attendees began to file out.
“Stay Lotto. Lieutenant Workman will take the rangers back to the barracks for their own medal ceremony. We have strategy to discuss in the King’s war room.”
~
Restella thanked her father; glad that he had earlier let her know about the meeting and his intention to make them shake hands. Lotto looked around at the shelves of books and scrolls and at the map drawers with a look of wonder on his face. He’d probably never been in such a room before. It never intimidated Restella. She loved standing in the place.
“You’ve got to get used to the boy,” King Goleto had said. “He could ask to be recognized as a Duke and I can’t do that because I need him in the field. I need both of you fighting the enemies all around us.”
Even though Mander or Fessano might have told her father about their link, she didn’t want to discuss it with the king for fear of what unpredictable decree he might come up with. At least she survived the handshake and she couldn’t deny the shock she felt as she clasped his hand. The link nearly overwhelmed her, but she made it through, knowing that the touch that Lotto feared would have to be direct contact. She felt Lotto’s panic at the time and tried to give him some support, but that didn’t work. The stone overpowered all thoughts. Although she felt the same, she kept gauging her height against the other men to see if it had diminished. With relief, she found that it hadn’t.
“Mander?” the king said.
“Your majesty,” Mander shuffled with the maps and put a map of Besseth on top. “The Oringians represent our most active threat. They have the most troops, even though they aren’t trained particularly well. The new Captain-General will array her army here, here and here as soon as spring allows a proper muster. I’m sure that will change. I’ve asked Captain Silver…”
Her Silver had been made Captain, but he would still be under her command. She let out a sigh of relief. His loss to another unit would be incalculable.
Mander looked at her and then continued, “Captain Silver will have four companies of rangers continually scout the areas to provide intelligence as to the enemy’s whereabouts between now and spring. With the pacification of the west, we can reduce our forces there. However, the south seems to be rising, especially Happly. Gensler is Duke Happly’s neighbor, too, but we will send Captain-General Applewood’s forces to the east as well, but to the northern edges of our border with Oringia.
“Lieutenant Mistad will penetrate into Gensler by himself and then to Happly to gather more intelligence. Duke Jellas of Genlser has graciously accepted our request to have him roam freely in his lands as long as Mistad leads a group of Gensler’s own rangers. I, personally, think this is a positive development, for it joins our forces, if even in a small way. As you know, Gensler jealously guards its independence.”
“What do you think, Lieutenant Mistad?” the king said.
“I’m a bit overwhelmed by today’s events, but I can do what Mander Hart has proposed. It’s a matter of keeping my mind open and my eyes clear, as long as the Gensler rangers are up to the task.”
“The Duke asked for you specifically, Lotto,” Mander said. “He has no battle mages of any power and he looks to you as a key to the defense of his realm.”
It seemed to Restella that Lotto had a talent for shrugging. Now knowing him a little better, the move might have looked like a signal of indifference, but he did it as if to shake off any kind of compliment or the hint of adoration. She’d never met a man of his capability or anyone near it who didn’t exude arrogance and conceit, yet Lotto seemed to push away at his growing fame. It made him uncomfortable. She didn’t know why it would. She enjoyed excelling at everything she tried.
She clapped him on the shoulder with her gloved hand and felt the link jolt her system. “Good luck to you, Sir Mistad.” She wouldn’t do that again.
He took a step away and said, “Good luck to you, Captain-General, ma’am.” Did she see the hint of a smile on his face when he called her by her title? She couldn’t remind him to call her Restella in front of her father and her suspicion turned into certainty. Humility didn’t quench a sense of humor and that made him more… She struggled to change her train of thought and shrugged herself, concentrating on General Piroff’s words as he took up the conversation.
~
“What’s this being a knight?” Lotto asked.
Mander smiled and Lotto didn’t like that particular smile, because it noted amusement for Mander but not for anyone else.
“It’s a great honor. Few knights are made anymore since feudalism was eliminated in Valetan more than a century ago. You are now a peer in Valetan and can sit in council with the king and can call yourself noble. Knights these days most always possess a higher title, but then you are already the son of a Duke.”
“But that doesn’t mean I assumed his title.”
“You didn’t. I checked. The Serytaran king revoked the duchy of Bomai on the command of Emperor Daryaku. However you still possess noble blood and now have a Valetan title and that makes you eligible, if things evolved in the right way, to marry any noblewoman, your respective titles would remain.”
Lotto caught the meaning. “Restella?”
Mander laughed. “Restella among many others. Look, I don’t know what this link is all about, but you two are obviously connected. If the handshake didn’t demonstrate it, I don’t know what did. However, don’t get all wrought up about marriage. We are in wartime and both of you are in harm’s way. Neither of you might make it through these troubled times, so you have nothing to worry about, right now.”
“At least the nightmares have stopped,” Lotto said, making the declaration with much relief. He’d made it through the night after his promotion and the intensity of his dreams hadn’t increased. There still were those thoughts of her panic and the emotion of good will as she touched his shoulder with her gloved hand. Reading her emotions might mean that she could read his. He hadn’t had any thoughts when she touched him that he would consider embarrassing since she already knew of his fear of touching and what it might do to him.
“So do you want to know specifically what I have in mind for you?”
Lotto’s brows furrowed. “It would have been nice to tell me ahead of time, but I think acting as an independent scout is what I would prefer. I’m afraid of making a fool of myself with trained, experienced officers.”
“I meant everything I said in the war room. Winter is close upon us, but the Duke of Gensler insists on having you spend some time in his land. He knows Lessa; personally, who now is the Head Councilor of Prola. The Prolan sings your praises. However I can’t afford to trust their reports without some verification. I want you to move through Gensler as anonymously as possible. It will help me find out what the people and the nobles really think. You’ll then go into Happly, but consider that enemy territory. The Duke of Happly hasn’t declared against Valetan, but he has announced support for Duke Histron’s usurpation of the throne of the Red Kingdom, so I expect trouble there at any time.
“Keep your eyes and ears open and I have birds that you’ll take to Crackledown Castle. I trust the duke, but every ruler has councilors that can blind his eyes.”
“I know.” Lotto said. He’d killed one of those blinded rulers and hoped he wouldn’t have to again. “I�
�ll be by myself and can do whatever I want?”
“I trust your judgment. I kept the king from assigning you as one of Applewood’s lieutenants. The king even alluded a quick rise to captain, but I know you well enough that you don’t have any ambitions of army rank.”
Lotto breathed a sigh of relief that Mander knew him so well. He nodded. “I’ll want to take my weapons, including the staff.”
“You already have a cover for it, so that will be acceptable as long as you keep it covered until you need to use it. It is recognizable by knowledgeable people and even if no one has heard of it or seen it, they will remember that particular weapon afterward. As for your Serytar weapons, the scabbards are nothing special. You won’t be wearing a uniform, either. Have Gully help you find suitable clothes for a common mercenary, preferable used. You’ll be heading out in the next few days and spending the winter in Gensler.”
~~~
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
~
THE LONELINESS OF LOTTO’S JOURNEY TO GENSLER intimidated him at first. He hadn’t felt so free in a long time, not since he headed south from Walkington to Beckondale when he separated from Jessie. He remembered the fear and the anxiety of seeking his fortune and perhaps learning more about the stone. Lotto had left that kind of anxiety behind when he enlisted in the army. Now he just took one day at a time, not knowing what that day would bring, but the near-helpless boy of a few years ago no longer existed. Perhaps still a boy, but not helpless. He wished that Jessie could see him now.
Jessie. He hadn’t thought of the healer witch for some time and he fought to remember her face, but then her image bloomed in his mind, especially on the night of his transformation. The poor woman died healing others. He wondered what she’d make of him now, a noble by birth and by order of the king. He didn’t feel like a noble and never had and that was fine with him. In his memory, he’d make her proud. If the Dakkorans had plotted with the Oringians as well as the Prolan king, then he had already had avenged Jessie’s death. The only ruler he’d really like to kill would be Emperor Daryaku. Mander had admitted that Valetan had no ability to reach across the Western Sea.
The snow slowed his pace but he kept traveling and would go as far as each day permitted. Mander made sure that Lotto had plenty of funds and supplies, so he traveled with a packhorse filled with possessions. In fact, all that Lotto had rode with him along with a padded crate of eight birds.
Farmers, towns and inns filled the southern reaches of Valetan until they bumped up against the mountains and the Fargo River that defined Gensler’s boundaries between Valetan. The onset of winter had emptied the roads and the fields, so Lotto rode through empty landscapes punctuated by village inns. Although it snowed a few days every week, he found that local travelers used the cobbled road between Beckondale and Gensler enough to keep it passable. He didn’t feel the need to travel quickly. A man, riding hard, could make it from Crackledown to Beckondale in less than two weeks. Lotto’s pace would more than double that.
Guard posts manned both sides of a large stone bridge over the Fargo. Lotto took a deep breath and continued past the Valetan guards and over to the Gensler side. This marked the start of his mission and from now on, he’d be keeping his eyes and ears open.
A little over a week later, he rode into Harveston, the only town of any size left on the way to Crackledown, the capital of Gensler. It sat on a crossroads. East to west, it linked Histo to Happly. North led to Valetan and south would take him to Crackledown after a few days of faster-than-normal travel. Lotto looked at his instructions and then rode through the town looking for the Seared Goose. The name made his mouth water since he had camped out in the open the previous night. There it was, a four story half-timbered building with white plaster and grey-painted timbers. The thatch roof still looked yellow and the well-kept nature of the place maintained itself all the way to a newly cobbled inner courtyard.
A redheaded youth grabbed his horses while Lotto took off his travel bags. “Feed the birds as well and keep them warm.” He flipped a Valetan penny to the lad and entered the building.
The innkeeper pursed his lips as he looked at Lotto. Perhaps his weapons gave the man pause. “One night, sir,” Lotto said.
“It would be better if you moved on, young man. We don’t take kindly to sell-swords”
“I’m not a mercenary, but recently a soldier in Valetan. With winter and all, I had the opportunity to muster out.” He held out his arm, tapping on his scarred hand. “Injury in Prola.”
“Prola, eh?” The innkeeper eyed Lotto and then sighed. “One night only.”
Lotto paid for his night’s stay that included dinner and breakfast. No other inn had treated him this badly and he wondered what caused the animosity. Instead of confining himself in his room, perhaps he’d take the evening in the tavern part of the inn, spending his night in Mander’s employ. He’d talk to the patrons and find out what gossip there might be on the road.
“What’s good, goose?” Lotto said, trying to be amiable and wondering how many hundreds of times patrons had made that very same statement.
“No geese. I haven’t seen one come through here since I’ve started,” the serving maid said. To Lotto’s eye, she might have been close to his age.
“And how long has that been?”
“Five seasons. I started during the autumn, a year gone.”
“What do you recommend? Last night I ate on the road, so anything might work.” He smiled at her trying to be amiable and had no idea if he succeeded.
“We have mutton stew, a chicken soup and…” she put her finger to her cheek to recall the third item, “ and… and a—”
“Beef fry with root vegetables,” the innkeeper said as he sat down at Lotto’s table.
“I’ll take the beef and make sure there’s some bread. Some light ale to drink, if you’ve got any.”
“No strong drink,” the innkeeper said. “Your lot always drink heavy to forget all of the killing you’ve done.”
Lotto fought off irritation and anger. The man had sat down on purpose to pester him—an unkindly act for an innkeeper. He didn’t have the pinched look of a cranky man, yet here the man tried to pick a fight. Lotto thought of his mission and swallowed his growing ill feelings since there might be a story here. “I don’t have anything to be ashamed of. I’m not that old to have killed lots of men.”
“I only let you in here because you mentioned Prola. I’ve got a sister who moved there and the king’s devilry made her a widow. I’d like to shake the hand of the man that run him through, a Valetan like you, I hear.”
Should he dare expose himself? Mander didn’t say he had to use a false name or anything, just listen and do whatever made sense with the Gensler rangers. Lotto extended his hand.
“I’m the man. Lotto Mistad. Formerly Captain Mistad. The king’s guard pierced my hand.” He pointed out the fresh scar.
The innkeeper’s eyebrows rose. “I heard a young Valetan officer did the deed, but I didn’t think he was as young as you. Who captained the Prola army?” He squinted across the table. The man sought a test and Lotto could easily pass it.
“Armand Lessa. We captured his army and when he found out we weren’t intent on ravaging his country, we joined forces.”
“The officer could perform magic. It was said that he froze the hinges shut.”
“Open. I fused them open.” Lotto eyed the unlit candle on the table in the still-sunlit room. He whispered a spell and the flame appeared. The innkeeper drew back, astonished.
“I, I apologize for the way I treated you. I intended to send you on your way before you spent the night, but now I see that I misjudged you, Captain Mistad.”
“No longer. Captain. My rank lasted as long as the conflict with their king. Now I’m just Lotto and no longer a Captain and I’m on my way to Crackledown to deliver birds to the Duke.”
“Heartwell’s the name,” the innkeeper thrust out his hand. “If there is anything I can do to make up for my be
havior…”
Here was an opportunity to learn. “Tell me why you don’t like mercenaries.”
The innkeeper settled down and sat back with his arms folded. An angry look crossed his face as he gathered his thoughts. “We’ve got men coming through Gensler. They say they are headed for Happly and indeed they take off towards the east and don’t return through here. I’ve had them fight in the common room and rough up my regular customers. They come through here armed to the teeth, just like you. I don’t know where they come from. Some have said the Red Kingdom, most are from Histo, Prola and a few from Gensler and even Valetan, but I can’t trust anything they say.”
“But they are headed to Happly Keep?”
“As far as I can tell, yes,” Heartwell nodded emphatically.
“Well, I’m going south to Crackledown delivering birds, as I said, to the Duke. The birds will return to Beckondale with messages.”
The innkeeper brightened. “So you’re a Valetan spy!” he said, too loudly for Lotto’s comfort.
“No, I’m not.” Lotto motioned with his hands for the innkeeper to speak more softly. “I’m still in the king’s service, if that’s what you mean, but I’m not a soldier at this point. I’m keeping busy while my hand continues to heal. Still, I’m not exactly announcing my presence.” He clenched his fist and twisted his arm, still feeling the ever-present tightness in his healed hand. He wondered if it would ever go away, but the healers and even Fessano said it would.
The innkeeper nodded and put his finger to his nose. “I won’t tell a soul.” As the man went through the door Lotto heard him mutter ‘king killer’ as a statement of wonder. Would he forever be known for that fight? It honestly was just one enemy after another that day until the guard skewered him and Lotto hadn’t known about the king’s title until after his demise.
His meal came. Lotto looked at the others in the room and realized that he had been given extra food. That was fine by him and he felt he had, overall, gotten the best of the exchange. Men flooding into Happly. Mander wouldn’t be very happy about that.
