Betrayal

by Jon Kiln

  Betrayal

  by Jon Kiln

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in book reviews.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1 : A Safe Place

  Chapter 2 : On the Run

  Chapter 3 : For Want of Sanctuary

  Chapter 4 : Well Hidden

  Chapter 5 : Know Who You Are

  Chapter 6 : Want You Dead

  Chapter 7 : No New Position

  Chapter 8 : Lies and Answers

  Chapter 9 : Conspiracies

  Chapter 10 : Giving Orders

  Chapter 11 : Dark Men Do Dark Things

  Chapter 12 : Prey and Snares

  Chapter 13 : In Chains

  Chapter 14 : Long Live the King

  Chapter 15 : A Time of Exile

  Chapter 16 : Heights and Depths

  Chapter 17 : The Man on the Left

  Chapter 18 : The War Within

  Chapter 19 : A Small Price Paid in Blood

  Chapter 20 : The Will of the King

  Chapter 1: A Safe Place

  Lieutenant Nisero stepped a little closer to the crowds that cheered along the edges of the capital streets. Others further back in the mass of bodies jeered and hurled curses. He did not like being close enough for the citizens to touch him. The women and children at the front edge of the parade grounds pawed over his uniform, the hard edges of his armor, and even the hilt guard of his sword. They merely wanted to have contact with a member of the legendary Elite Guard.

  Nisero still did not like the close contact. A hand touching open in admiration could easily extend a short blade and find a seam in the joints of his light armor. The rebel could be away in the crowd before Nisero had time to fall to the cobble stones, dying upon the horse droppings from the dignitaries ahead of him.

  The foreign visitors were the very reason Nisero had to remain this far out, within reach of the crowd. As the foreign prince waved to the people of Nisero’s kingdom and capital, the lieutenant had to be close enough to dive upon the arch of a bow, or any other projectile that might be raised at the prince’s back. A blade or bludgeon that came out in the hand of some rogue bold enough to attempt to break the lines and charge at the prince’s hindquarters would require Nisero to down the man.

  The prince’s backside was Nisero’s charge this day. He intended to protect it better than his own.

  Nisero saw movement to his right across the street. He glanced over quickly, seeking not to be long distracted from his own side. He trusted the rest of the Guard with his life, but he would not allow the possible mistake of one of his fellows to bring shame upon his hard fought reputation or the long, successful history of the Elite Guard.

  He spotted Captain Forseth pulling back on his horse’s reins one tick at a time, slowly dropping back behind the prince and his procession. Forseth edged over, continuing his trot forward, but bringing his course alongside Lieutenant Nisero.

  Nisero turned his head back to his own side to scan the far reaches of the crowd. He saw angry eyes on some of the merchants and working class citizens. Their anger probably had roots in the normal struggles of life and the economic turns of the kingdom. Things which had nothing directly to do with the prince and his aged father’s kingdom to the east.

  Still, misdirected anger could lead to poorly judged decisions. He saw their faces and read them as sated disappointment more than murderous intent. Nisero had enough experience with that level of rage in his enemies to recognize it. He was not seeing it here. Still, he had no intention of dropping his guard.

  Nisero pulled away from the citizen's grasping hands with some measure of relief. He met on foot alongside his captain on horseback, closer to the center of the street.

  Captain Forseth kept his eyes tracking back and forth between the crowds on both sides of the grand avenue. His attention gave Nisero comfort in the man’s leadership in this and in all missions under him, since he rose to the command position a few years previous.

  Nisero had been a lieutenant and second to the captain for quite some time when the rank was held by the legendary Captain Berengar. It had been during the ride back to Berengar’s village after his retirement that Nisero’s expected rise to the position was usurped.

  Nisero had accompanied his former captain as a final act of respect, before assuming the stewardship of the man’s command, but they had found something different. The child of the bandit king had ill intent upon the captain.

  The bandit king killed by Berengar many years before led this child to chose that moment to seek revenge. The vengeance had cost Berengar his wife and son. It nearly cost him his daughter too, that the new bandit king had taken as bait. They pursued the Son of Solag only to find a secret they had never expected. They survived and rescued Captain Berengar’s daughter, largely with the last minute help of the Elite Guard – an Elite Guard commanded by the newly assigned Captain Forseth, in Nisero’s absence.

  Berengar’s legend had grown to the levels of magic dragon slayers, even earning him further honors from the King himself. Berengar had accepted with begrudging grace, but then disappeared from the public. This only served to add to his mystery and the grandeur of the stories of his adventures.

  Even though Nisero had been at Berengar’s side through the ordeal, he was excluded from the tellings by the people as often as he was included. Nisero had heard Forseth’s name included as the loyal companion in some of the bar room tales. Nisero remained quiet and never sought to correct the record.

  The stories will outlive me anyway, he thought.

  Since those days, the other men had often looked to Lieutenant Nisero, still serving as a second to a captain that skipped him in the ranks. Even to this day, some three years later, they still watched the commanders’ interaction with one another, waiting for Nisero to crack in disrespect to Forseth. Those cracks never came. Forseth led many successful and perilous missions as captain, building his reputation and honor as the new leader of the Guard.

  In private, Forseth had fully credited Nisero’s loyalty for the trust the men provided him. They continued their professional manner in public, even around the other members of the Guard. Nisero had seen Forseth grow as a warrior and a leader. He was leaner in body and spirit in a way that overrode some of his less serious earlier days in the Guard. Nisero would have never said so to the captain, even in private as a compliment, as such a thing might undercut the confidence he had built.

  Nisero had begun to realize that he had grown quieter, more stern, and more calloused in spirit. In a way, he felt he was shaping more into the type of man that Berengar had become in his long service. There were far worse things to become, Nisero knew, but he had realized over the hard days of their deadly adventure together that Berengar had become such a man through the grinding of the harsh realities of the world.

  Captain Forseth brought Nisero up out of his thoughts as he spoke. “Lieutenant, we will be leaving the city soon. We should stay sharp until we see the prince off at his own border in the east. We want nothing to go wrong.”

  “Of course, sir.” Nisero kept his eyes on the crowd beside, ahead, and behind him as he spoke.

  “The negotiations did not go well,” Forseth said.

  “Is that so, captain?”

  “It is.” Captain Forseth turned his attention on Nisero before turning it back out on the crowd. “The proc
eedings grew quite contentious. I understand furniture was thrown before the royals parted ways.”

  Nisero narrowed his eyes. “We should have been in there.”

  Forseth shrugged and looked away to the opposite side of the street. “If we had been there, the prince’s guards would have wanted to be present. It might not have been good to have two sets of armed men from opposing lands when furniture started flying.”

  “Perhaps not.” Nisero shook his head. “They seemed civil enough at the ceremonies before they parted.”

  “They would be,” Forseth said. “Fortunately, the royals don’t have the breeding to throw furniture far, so they missed one another.”

  Nisero bit at his lip. Captain Berengar would have never vocalized an insult of the King or his family. “Are you expecting trouble?”

  “Always. The kingdom desperately needed a deal on grain to make up for the shortfalls in our own central plain. Yields are proving better farther east, but maybe not enough to feed an entire kingdom. A deal would have been good. That, and we need to avoid war at least until we have enough food to feed an army on the march again.”

  Nisero turned his eyes to the backs of the prince and his attendants. “Perhaps the particulars of the political issues are better saved for a private conversation.”

  “This is as private a talk as we can have until this mission is complete,” grumbled Forseth. “When word goes wide that issues were not resolved between the kingdoms, things could turn ugly. Farmers and merchants will feel that promises were not kept. Nobles will be hard pressed to support their own lords and knights. Border towns in the east will feel particularly vulnerable and rebellious. You know how border towns can become in times of scarcity and threat.”

  “Yes, I know well.”

  “We need to be prepared for trouble, should someone seek to do harm to the envoy while we are on the road,” Forseth cautioned. “Even if we rode hard, we will need one night on the road in some inn or lord’s manor. I have a feeling the prince has never ridden hard in his life, so I’d not be surprised if we were boarding him for three nights before we are rid of him.”

  Nisero looked about to be sure none of the others were within earshot. “I understand. If we fear unrest, should we leave a compliment of the Guard within the capital?”

  “We need to protect the prince.” Captain Forseth spoke a little louder than Nisero thought was appropriate.

  “I understand, sir. I was thinking in terms of the primary charge of our charter in protecting the King.”

  “I hear your point, but I need you by my side with all the men in this mission. Now more than ever.”

  “Yes, sir, of course.”

  Captain Forseth kicked his mount’s haunches and rode forward. He passed the attendants louder than they expected and they exchanged startled looks with one another.

  Nisero edged back closer to the crowd and endured their hands as he watched each face for signs of trouble.

  Once they reached the outskirts of the capital without incident, boys who held the reins of the packed horses for other members of the Guard were tipped with copper coins. The horses outside the city were well supplied, and not as grandly decorated as the horses included in the procession.

  The attendants discarded the drapes off their horses onto the ground as if the fine cloth were nothing at all. They loaded supplies as the boys grabbed up the drapes as an additional reward far more valuable than the coins.

  Nisero mounted and turned his gaze from the peasant boys to the foreign dignitaries. The prince did not seem to notice the boys any more than he would insects under the hooves of his horse. To be fair, the men of the Guard weren’t giving much more notice themselves once they had secured their horses.

  Captain Forseth handed his drape off to one of the smaller boys and patted his head. Nisero watched him go and smiled. Forseth reached both hands up to the lieutenant and Nisero passed him a set of the saddlebags. The captain loaded down his horse and mounted next to Nisero.

  “So far so good,” Nisero said.

  Forseth rolled his eyes. “If our dandy foreign visitors would gather themselves faster, we could be on our way finally.”

  Nisero looked about at the boys around them. They did not act as if they were listening, but boys always were. Then, they repeated what they heard to anyone that would listen.

  The prince tilted his head and eyed both Nisero and Captain Forseth. He waited for the foreign royal to say something in either of their languages, but he merely inclined his head a fraction to the side. Nisero heard Forseth give a throaty exhale, but to his credit, he did not voice his displeasure.

  Forseth nodded back and turned his attention to the compliment of the Elite Guard. “Let’s away, men.”

  The prince’s men gathered around him. Forseth lead part of the men forward before they followed. Nisero took up with a smaller contingent of those that remained to guard the rear.

  The going was as slow as Forseth had predicted. The prince set the pace and seemed to be moving as if he thought he was still in the parade, even though they traveled an empty road heading east.

  Twice, other groups of travelers approached, heading west toward the capital. Captain Forseth shouted them off the road as the prince slowly trotted by. The citizens asked what was happening, but Forseth remained mounted and silent between them and the prince until he was past. Forseth retook the front and continued on.

  Darkness crept over and the prince called out. “I’m ready to stop and eat.” It was first time that Nisero had heard him speak.

  “We need to go farther,” Forseth shouted back. “We are not to a safe place yet.”

  The men of both parties exchanged looks. Nisero was ready to stop, too. They could commandeer any house they wanted to quarter the prince. The men could take shifts guarding the property until morning. One would be as safe as any other, but Forseth kept riding.

  One of the attendants to the prince became disgruntled. “The prince said he was hungry. It is time to stop, soldier.”

  “Shut up,” Forseth yelled back.

  The prince bristled visibly. Nisero saw hands rest on swords all around the group. This was about to go worse than the royals throwing furniture.

  “Like you,” Forseth said, “I am charged with the prince’s safety. This place is not safe. Things were left ugly in the capital, as you know. We must get farther to a place with safer walls. If we had ridden faster we would be there, but we are not, so we keep going. It is the only option after all that happened.”

  The prince and his vocal attendant exchanged a look, but kept riding without further comment. Nisero did not know if they accepted Forseth’s explanation, though they continued riding all the same.

  As full darkness set in, Nisero thought about Berengar’s daughter, Arianne. Nisero had fled with her from the ruins of the bandits’ castle until they had found the Guard and rode back to rescue Berengar. There had been a brief spark between them. Nisero had even considered stepping away from the Guard for the life of a farmer, or in some other sedentary trade, to begin a life with her.

  After Berengar had accepted his final accolades before the King, Arianne had begged off of Nisero’s affections. He did not pursue, but he did ask why. She had said that her father did not wish the life of a guardsmen’s wife for her, and she was inclined to agree.

  He had let her walk away.

  As he rode in the darkness behind a foreign prince, he wondered if he should have pursued her then. He wondered if it would have mattered.

  Forseth pulled the group to a stop and circled back.

  “Do we stop and eat now like bandits in the dark?” the prince demanded.

  Forseth pointed up a road between the overhang of dark trees. “I will take a small group up to the manor to announce our presence. You will remain here with the rest.”

  The prince shook his head. “Why?”

  “We are late. I do not want the guards firing on you during our approach because they think we are bandits. I�
��ll clear our passage. Then, I’ll get you boarded and fed.”

  The prince turned away. “I’m not a horse.”

  Captain Forseth wheeled his mount away. He called seven names and a party of eight, counting the captain himself, galloped up the dark road. Nisero stared and noted the captain had not bothered to give him any direct instruction.

  The surrounding area was gloomy and wooded. Nisero thought this was a poor choice of location to stop. They could barely see beyond the tree line, yet with the prince’s attendants carrying torches they would be clearly visible to others.

  Lieutenant Nisero dismounted and ordered the men to stay lively.

  A sudden movement caught his attention. Arrows whistled through the night, striking two of the Guard. They collapsed off their horses onto the main road.

  “Rally to the prince!” Nisero commanded. “Move him to cover.”

  Two arrows struck the neck of Nisero’s horse and the beast collapsed on top of him. He fought to draw his legs out from under the animal.

  Nisero watched helplessly as an arrow planted in the prince’s chest. He slumped in the saddle and another struck high on his neck. He fell heavy and awkward to the ground. The attendants crouched over him.

  One yelled, “He’s dead!”

  An arrow struck him and that man went down too.

  Nisero yelled from under his horse. “Go for the cover of the trees!”

  The remaining Guardsmen and a few of the prince’s men moved to obey. As they did, dozens of armed men charged from the darkness. Nisero knew they were overwhelmed and outnumbered. All Nisero saw was their black helmets as the attackers cut through men he had served with for years.

  Nisero fought one leg free and drew his sword. He watched in growing desperation as the men that still fought were surrounded by three and four attackers as they fell one by one.

  The lieutenant saw three men with bows step out of a ditch and walk among the fallen horses and human bodies. One of the attendants raised his hands from the ground. “No, please.”