Angel's Truth (Angelwar Book 1)

by A. J. Grimmelhaus

‘I didn’t see!’

  You really shouldn’t do that, Kartane thought. The barrel-chested fellow went back to watching his friend shake Maddy, under some misguided belief that Kartane wasn’t the kind of man to disregard warnings.

  Kartane took a step towards him. He was still focused on Maddy.

  There was a big smile between his hairy ears.

  That, Kartane decided, is almost as bad as shaking Maddy. He said hello with his fist, and heard the faint pop of a broken nose in reply. While the idiot reached up to his nose with both hands, Kartane moved past him, turned, and delivered a sharp kick to the back of the man’s knee. Kartane put a hand on the fellow’s shoulder, and helped him down to his knees. In case he got any ideas, he put a dagger to his neck.

  Kartane cleared his throat. ‘I’m making it my business.’

  The man holding Maddy turned towards him, a deep scowl furrowing his brow.

  ‘Whoever the poor sap you’re searching for is, he isn’t here. Innkeepers,’ Kartane nodded at Maddy, ‘don’t ask a whole lot of questions; it’s bad for business, and people like you and me, we don’t like people remembering us, do we?’

  The scowl deepened as the man’s fingers sank deeper still into Maddy’s arm. ‘You kill Oleg there and a whole lot of really angry men with swords will hunt you down.’

  Kartane shrugged. ‘It’s happened before,’ he said equably. ‘You should worry less about your friends, and think more of what’s going to happen to you. If I’m going to slit your friend here’s throat for interrupting my supper, what do you think I’ll do to you for hurting my favourite innkeeper? Personally, I don’t think you’re going to like it, but I’m willing to give it a go if you are.’ Kartane licked his lips. ‘I would rather get back to my ale though, and Maddy’s already told you everything she knows, so it seems to me that you don’t have to see your insides if you don’t want to. Who’s going to avenge your friend outside then?’ Kartane shook his head. ‘A smart man might ask the gate guards what they’d seen. A few coins and you can be on your merry way without any holes in you.’ He stared at the man for a few seconds. ‘Your choice, though.’

  The man’s eyes boiled with hatred but the pressure round Maddy’s arm eased, fingers uncoiling and retreating as the man let his arms fall to his sides. ‘I might go and talk to the gate guards,’ he said slowly.

  Kartane nodded, removing the dagger from the second man’s neck and shoving him towards his friend with a mud-stained boot. ‘Best take him with you.’

  The pair backed slowly away to the door, and as it closed behind them Maddy heaved a sigh of relief, patting Kartane gently on the shoulder. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

  ‘My stew’ll be cold now,’ Kartane grumbled.

  *

  The sound of the bolt slamming home drew Kartane’s gaze from the fire. As the customers had slowly filed out he had shifted to a table next to the hearth, legs stretched out as he let the warmth penetrate his tired body. Can’t remember the last time I wasn’t cold. Except he could, really. Kartane just didn’t want to think about it. Four years was a long time, but the memory was still as fresh as the air on a spring morning. A scrape of wood accompanied by a slight creak announced Maddy’s arrival as she joined him by the fire, plunking two mugs of ale on the table between them.

  ‘I didn’t know they had let you out of the mines.’

  ‘They didn’t,’ Kartane replied, still watching the dancing flames.

  ‘You escaped?’

  He nodded. ‘One last adventure.’

  ‘They’ll send men after you, hunt you down, and this time they won’t take you in alive.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why, damn it? Why now?’

  Kartane pulled his gaze from the fire, wrapping fingers still dark with coal round the mug and lifting it to his lips. He had known this moment was coming, had known it since his arrival – even before the two fools interrupted his dinner. A slight flinch on Maddy’s part when he mentioned the truth, that was all. The corpse and its friends just proved he had been right. And that I’m not the only one looking for him, Kartane thought. The description was almost identical to that given by the innkeeper on the North Road. He put the mug down and smacked his lips noisily.

  ‘Tell me what you know of the Angel’s Truth.’

  Maddy shrank back from him as if slapped. ‘Angel’s Truth? I don’t know—’

  Kartane’s thumped the table. ‘Don’t lie to me, Maddy. I saw the way you reacted earlier; you’ve heard mention of it, and you already knew about the body in the alley before those men came in.’ He smiled. ‘I know a skittish innkeeper when I see one. The boy was here, wasn’t he?’

  ‘And if I won’t tell you?’ Maddy drew herself up straighter. ‘Will you kill me too, like all those others you slew? They still tell the story of your hot temper across the north, and I was there at the King’s Head when you killed a man for nothing more than bumping in to you. Is that what you’ll do, kill me with no more thought than for a fly?’

  Kartane frowned. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Yours is a death I would regret.’ He took a draught of ale. ‘And that fellow in the King’s Head had a knife. Not my fault that part got left out the stories.’

  Maddy picked up her own mug, nursing it with both hands and taking a slow sip. ‘Yes,’ she said heavily, ‘Tol Kraven was here.’

  ‘And he had the book?’

  ‘I saw it,’ Maddy said. ‘It fell out of his pack when I was tending his wounds.’

  ‘He’s wounded? Where? How badly?’

  Maddy rolled her eyes. ‘Just some splinters in his neck,’ she said. ‘He said he got caught in a fast-freeze.’

  Kartane arched an eyebrow in surprise. ‘A fast-freeze? If it’s true, the boy’s lucky; not many see one up close and live to tell.’

  ‘I think he can take care of himself,’ Maddy said. ‘Tol told me he fought and killed three of the Band of Blood on the North Road.’

  ‘Only three?’ Kartane leaned forward and grabbed Maddy’s wrist, tight enough that she winced. ‘You’re sure it was three?’

  Maddy nodded, pulling her wrist free. ‘Yes, three. Does it matter?’

  Kartane didn’t answer. Five bodies, but the boy only downed three. There’s another player in all this. ‘Where is he now?’

  ‘He left earlier, like I told those men. You went right past him when you came in.’

  Kartane cursed softly. ‘That insolent whelp?’ He swore again.

  ‘He’s going to Karnvost,’ Maddy said quietly.

  Kartane answered her with a slow nod. ‘I know.’

  ‘And you’ll go after him?’

  He nodded again, and Maddy threw up her arms. ‘You know what’ll happen if anyone recognises you? They won’t clap you in irons again!’

  ‘Aye, it’ll be the headsman’s block.’

  ‘And yet you will still go? What’s in that book that’s so important?’

  Kartane raised his head, brooding eyes weighing Maddy carefully. ‘Enough,’ he muttered darkly. ‘Enough to bring down a religion.’ He drained the rest of his mug and stood. ‘Wake me before dawn, I need to be on the road before those idiots.’

  ‘And what makes you think I’ll be up before dawn?’

  Kartane tilted his head. ‘The inn clean itself, does it?’

  21.

  Tol awoke as the boot thumped into his thigh. He jerked backwards, knocking his head on the tree trunk and muttering a curse as he drew his dagger. He only became properly aware of his surroundings as the dagger came to rest at the groin of the dark shape looming over him.

  ‘You want to try that again?’ he growled, blinking the sleep from his eyes.

  ‘I did warn him,’ Katarina said.

  Stetch gave the dagger a cursory glance but appeared to give the question some thought. He shrugged, and held out a hunk of bread smeared with soft white cheese.

  ‘Yours.’

  Tol reluctantly sheathed the dagger and took the bread. ‘Thanks.’

  Stetc
h tilted his head to the right. ‘Yours,’ he repeated.

  Tol followed the direction of the tilt and saw his pack, supplies peeking out from the top.

  ‘I am sorry,’ Katarina said, ‘but we had no time to replenish our provisions in Soltre.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ Tol said, spraying both his legs and those of Stetch with an ample smattering of breadcrumbs. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

  ‘As you wish. We should get moving; dawn is already upon us.’

  Tol nodded, taking Stetch’s outstretched arm and letting the manservant haul him upright. ‘I don’t suppose you know how to kill a demon?’

  The Sudalrese man considering the question with a pained expression. ‘Cut its head off,’ Stetch said finally. ‘Kills most things.’

  ‘Most?’

  He shrugged. ‘Might not work.’

  ‘Come along, Steven,’ Katarina called, already at the edge of the clearing with her pig-sized backpack. ‘We don’t want those mercenaries ahead of us.’

  Katarina waited intemperately at the edge of the clearing, shifting from one foot to the other. ‘Well?’ she asked as Tol reached her.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Did you remember?’

  Tol shook his head. ‘Remember what?’

  ‘The demon,’ Katarina exclaimed, ‘did you remember how they killed the demon?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice, ‘I remembered all right.’

  ‘And?’ She crossed her arms expectantly.

  ‘Sir Hunt Valeron killed it with the angel’s own sword.’

  ‘Oh.’

  They headed for the road in silence.

  *

  They marched in uneasy silence with Tol alternating glances between the grey sky overhead and the road behind where, he knew, a band of killers would be eating up the leagues in hopes of catching their quarry. And with the loss of one of their own fresh in their minds, he thought. They’d be moving fast. Really fast, Tol figured. The night had masked his escape, but they had to already know where he was heading, and there was a single road south. He glanced over his shoulder again. Now it was a race to Karnvost.

  The morning passed without incident, both skies and trail clear of pursuit. Early in the afternoon they passed the last translucent patches of snow, yet their surroundings changed little – a rough dirt road flanked on either side by frozen wooden sentinels, evergreen and deciduous alike - except melted snow turned the road to mud, sucking at Tol’s boots with every tired step. The nation of Norve was a vast tract of rich forests and plains, but Tol had heard tavern tales of men who had gone days along a road with neither sight nor sound of another person. Most of the population dwelled in towns or cities, seeking the presence of others rather than facing the huge isolation of the wilds alone. Villages dotted the landscape here and there, but gold drew most sooner or later to the larger settlements, and where gold failed, fear or poverty often succeeded. The Norvek people, Tol knew, considered those who lived in isolation brave. When days separated neighbours, only the stout survived in the wilderness where wild bears, boars, and packs of wolves roamed unchecked, any of which could render a man crippled or worse. He glanced over his shoulder. Any of those fates would probably be better than what the Band will do if they catch me.

  As the grey winter light began to fade Tol at last saw an end to the forest, trees giving way to flat plains that rolled into the distant smudge of the horizon. Soon they passed the first frozen fields, isolated farmhouses ringed by acres of ploughed earth like tiny islands surrounded by restless seas. Above it all a plateau rose from the earth in the distance, a large shelf of soil-covered rock that jutted out against the skyline. Tol saw a small copse bordering the eastern side of the plateau and frowned as he saw how small the trees appeared compared to the plateau itself. It must be hundreds of feet above the surrounding land, Tol thought as his eyes drank in the sight. A few thousand men could hold the top almost indefinitely. Shame it’s not flatter… Tol stopped in his tracks as he realised that the miniscule deformities of the formation were actually the roofs and spires of civilisation – a vast, sprawling city ringed with stone that looked eastward like a stalwart guardian.

  ‘Impressive, isn’t it?’

  Stetch and Katarina had both stopped a few paces ahead, and Tol coloured as he saw the amusement on her features. He shrugged. ‘Bigger than I thought, is all.’

  ‘Big and loud and brash, like the Norvek people themselves,’ Katarina commented, ‘but an ugly, cluttered place. The cities back home may be smaller, but their beauty is undeniable. You should see them, Steven, even the plainest of abodes are adorned with window boxes and trellises decked with ivy and fragrant blossoms that soothe troubles and lighten the heart. Why,’ she laughed lightly, ‘even Stetch would lose his frown in such a place.’

  Tol smiled. ‘That, I would like to see.’

  ‘Perhaps when all this is over you can visit.’

  ‘Sure,’ Tol agreed, ‘if I’m still alive I might just do that.’

  ‘Take heart,’ Katarina told him gently. ‘Safety is almost within sight, and who knows what the new day may bring? We will be at the gates before dark and you will feel better after a good night’s sleep in a warm bed. Some of them,’ she told him conspiratorially, ‘are even free of fleas.’ She smiled, and Tol started chuckling.

  ‘I suppose things might seem better in the morning,’ he conceded, ‘but I’ll be glad once we’re inside the walls; it feels too exposed out here in the open. There’s no cover for a league or more, and a hedgerow won’t slow a demon.’

  The smile vanished from Katarina’s face. ‘Then let us make haste.’ She flounced ahead, leaving Tol staring after her.

  He turned to Stetch. ‘What did I say?’

  The man smiled. ‘Words.’

  *

  The grey sky was growing darker still as they followed the road up the plateau’s north face, a steep, rocky slope covered in churned mud. The path was narrow, little more than eighteen feet wide, and the sides dropped away sharply. Their pace slowed as they struggled through the ascent, and a glance over the edge showed Tol a sheer drop that, as they drew nearer the top, would inflict injuries on the unwary ranging from broken bones to death. The wind whipped clumps of blond hair across his face, and after a particularly strong gust nearly blew him off the side, Tol moved closer to the centre, memories of his escape from Icepeak bubbling to the surface. Katarina was still silent, ploughing up the hill with grim determination, and Tol fell in beside Stetch, the pair flanking Katarina as she leaned forward to maintain her balance. The summit was in sight now, but the last yards were the hardest and Katarina began to falter, huffing noisily as she forced herself onward. Stetch glanced at Tol, then reached out and placed a hand underneath the heavy pack strapped to his companion, taking some of the load.

  A strange pair, Tol thought. Always arguing and bickering, yet he clearly cares for her. Lovers? No, he didn’t think so, but the Sudalrese man had the patience of the First Father himself. Never once had Tol seen him lose his temper, though Katarina pushed Stetch at every turn as if seeking a chink in his armour, hoping to wear down his defences with words alone. Now that he thought about it, the only time Stetch had appeared displeased – beyond his usual beleaguered expression – was when Katarina had dismissed him from her presence. A bodyguard, for certain, Tol thought, but no simple hired hand. No, he was sure Stetch was much more than that. He looked like a bedraggled urchin and had perfected an expression that conveyed blank disinterest, but as they climbed the last stretch of the slope, he watched the man with interest. Tol was beginning to tire from the ascent, but could see no sign of exertion on Stetch’s own face, and the man didn’t even appear to be breathing heavily. Added to this, he was bearing part of Katarina’s pack as well as his own, matching his pace perfectly to keep within arms reach of his charge at all times. A trifling thing, really, but by no means easy on a steep slope with blustery winds. The more he thought about it, the more Tol was dr
awn to a single, disturbing conclusion: Stetch was one of the Sworn, the martial order of Sudalra concerned with national security, espionage and – if the stories were to be believed – more than the occasional assassination. They answered to Duke val Sharvina alone, Sudalra’s puppet master; a dark, shadowy figure that, it was said, could tell a king what he was thinking before the king himself knew. The most powerful man in Sudalra, Tol thought, sure that if he had sent one of his own men to Norve then it was not without purpose. But what purpose? Preoccupied with his thoughts, Tol hadn’t noticed they had reached the top of the plateau, and nearly clattered straight into Katarina as she stopped, surveying the vista before them. As Tol slid to a halt, he saw Stetch’s hand gently lower Katarina’s pack so she once again took the full weight.

  ‘Civilisation,’ she breathed. ‘I do believe I can almost smell supper from here.’ She sniffed. ‘Although that is probably just the unwashed masses. Only a little further, Steven, and you will be safe. For a while, at least.’

  Lush grass covered the plateau’s top like a furry table cloth, the land straight and true as far as the distant opposite edge, now only dimly visible in the fading light. The road met with two others from the south and east, a single wide track leading to the gates of Karnvost, which occupied the western quadrant of the giant highland, grey spires of rugged stone poking out above the walls.

  ‘Do stop gawping, Steven, you look like a village dolt.’

  Tol closed his mouth with a snap. ‘That’d be a bastard to assault.’

  Katarina sighed. ‘Perhaps we should try knocking on the gate first?’

  The plateau upon which Norve’s second city nestled had to be at least half a dozen leagues across, and the city itself surely occupied several leagues. How many live there? Tol wondered as he followed the pair towards the walls. Thousands? Tens of thousands? More? Suddenly, losing his pursuers in the city didn’t seem like such a difficult task. The problem would be getting out, he quickly realised. The plateau beyond Karnvost’s walls was flat and bare, each road leading to a crumbling downward slope. Farmland ringed the plateau to the north, south, and west for several leagues, broken only by the occasional farmhouse. The eastern wall of the plateau was flanked by what looked like an orchard, but even that didn’t stretch more than a few miles. Beyond it lay open farmland, and little cover from anything searching the skies.