“You bastard,” Nedo managed to gasp out at me before he fell sideways and lay still.
A shadow fell over me and I looked up at Einhard’s grinning face. “You owe me a life, puppy.”
17: Calban
I rode Angry back toward Gasterny, the big black picking his way slowly through the fields as I tried to come up with a way around Einhard’s demands. We were to surrender the garrison within the hour, and if we did that everyone inside it would be allowed to go home—everyone except King Tyden, that is. If we did not surrender, then the Piths would attack tomorrow morning with no quarter given. Einhard had promised me that he wouldn’t kill the king and only keep him as a hostage, but I had little faith that he was being truthful about that. The Sword had not been able to protect Clendon the Peacemaker during the battle of Victory Pass, and I was certain that failure still weighed heavily on him. Killing Tyden in revenge for that failure would undoubtedly take away some of the sting of defeat, not to mention leaving our kingdom leaderless and ripe for the plucking.
I had briefly considered telling Einhard about Pernissy and First Son Oriell and what I believed would happen should Tyden die. But I knew if I did that, my words would fall on deaf ears, so I said nothing. I think my friend would have just found the predicament amusing anyway. The first thing that I did after being acclaimed chieftain of the Amenti was make Saldor my Sword—I could think of no man better suited for the job. He wasn’t an Amenti, of course, but crossing over into other tribes because of marriage or opportunity was not that unusual for Piths, so he had readily accepted. I had hoped to use the Amenti to nullify Einhard’s threat of sacking the garrison, but Saldor had quickly dashed that hope. He’d talked it over with some of the older warriors of the tribe, and though they had agreed my right to lead them could not be disputed, they had refused to side with Ganders over Piths in any way, even for me. However, the one concession Saldor did get from them was that if an attack on Gasterny became necessary, then out of respect for my position, the Amenti would not participate. It wasn’t much of a victory, but it was better than nothing.
I could see the fortress's ramparts were lined with men as I drew closer, and could hear their faint cheers as they recognized me. They couldn’t have possibly known what had occurred in the Pith camp from such a distance, so my appearance must have been a huge relief. Men began hugging each other and waving banners, some even dancing a jig as they lifted their weapons in salute to me. I couldn’t help but smile wearily at the sight. Enjoy it while it lasts, I thought, the smile quickly fading.
The drawbridge slowly lowered to accept me back, creaking and clanking until it landed with a thump on the dirt ramp. I guided Angry across the bridge and through the barbican as men appeared on either side of me, tugging at my legs and boots as they sung my praises. Several of the braver men even attempted to pet Angry, which drew the predictable response. The stallion showed his displeasure by butting those men aside and narrowly missing another with his teeth before the joyful soldiers finally moved back to a safer distance.
I entered the outer bailey as Jebido rushed over to me and quite literally yanked me down from the big horse’s back. Men began to press in close all around me, laughing and cheering as I felt rough hands slapping me in congratulations.
“See,” Jebido shouted in my ear, grinning broadly as we embraced. “I told you if you listened to my advice, everything would be fine.”
I laughed and kissed my friend on the head, then rifled his sweat-streaked hair as Baine, Fitz, and others came to embrace me. Some of the soldiers began to sing, standing arm in arm, while others threw their helmets in the air.
“Praise be to Lord Hadrack!” a man shouted from the watchtower.
“Praise to the Wolf!” another called, his fist raised. “Killer of Piths!”
Men on the ramparts began chanting my name then, which was soon taken up by almost everyone in the garrison. I found myself looking down at the ground in embarrassment, and finally, I pulled Baine closer to me so that he could hear. “Where is the king?” I asked.
“In the keep waiting for you with Lord Vestry,” Baine responded. “He wanted the men to have the honor of welcoming you back first.”
I nodded, then pushed my way through the crowd toward the keep.
“What’s wrong?” Jebido asked, his features serious now as he fell in beside me. “I know that look on your face. Something is wrong.”
I waited to answer him until we were all seated in our familiar places around the king’s table, away from the noise and celebrations continuing outside. Then I told them in as few words as possible about the challenge, finishing with Einhard’s demand that we surrender and hand over the king. Tyden sat at the head of the table listening as I talked, his hands clasped together in front of him on the worn wood.
“Well, that’s that, then,” Tyden finally said once I was finished. He looked tired, I thought, but even so, I could see a steely resolve burning in his eyes. His jaw was set in determination, something that I had become familiar with when his mind was made up. I knew Tyden planned on agreeing to Einhard’s terms, but I had no intention of letting him, regardless of what he said.
“But I thought you told us this man was your friend?” Lord Vestry said to me, unable to keep the whine from his voice.
“He is my friend,” I said. “But it’s a complicated relationship.”
Lord Vestry rolled his eyes. “Complicated? You lied to us, Lord Hadrack. You said the heathen would let us go if you won.”
“He never said that!” Jebido snapped, rising to his feet in my defense. He pointed at me. “Look at him. He’s covered in blood and half dead. This is a man who risked his life for us with no guarantees about what would happen afterward. It was a damn good try, and I know the bards will sing about it for generations, but in the end, it didn’t change anything. So now all we can do is send those bastards out there a message with swords and shields that they will never forget before we die.”
“We will not fight,” Tyden said firmly. “I will turn myself over to Einhard as he has asked. That way, the rest of you can go free and organize a proper defense of the kingdom. I will not allow Ganderland to fall to these people. Not for any reason.”
Everyone around the table instantly burst out protesting—all except Lord Vestry, that is, who had suddenly found something under a fingernail to take his attention away.
“That is not an option, Highness,” I said just as firmly as the king had. “We all leave here together, or not at all.”
“There is little choice, Lord Hadrack,” Tyden said, sounding calm and relaxed. “Believe me when I tell you I have little desire to fall into the hands of those heathens a second time. But I will not sacrifice the lives of everyone else in this garrison, only to be captured in the end anyway.” He looked at me and smiled. “Besides, they had me once before and you rescued me, so perhaps it can be done again.”
“I have a better idea,” Fitz said, looking around the table. “What if I go in the king’s place?” Fitz held up his hands as both Tyden and I started to protest. “Listen to me, please.” He waited until we had quieted down. “Think about it. Most of the Piths don’t know what you look like, Highness. If you send me instead, you can get away before they realize we tricked them. If we stay and fight, then everyone sitting here knows what will happen. We will lose Gasterny one way or the other, but at least this way, you will be safe. It’s the only option there is that has any chance of success.”
“It won’t work,” I said with a shake of my head. I gestured toward Tyden. “Einhard saw him, and many of the Amenti know what he looks like as well.”
Fitz snorted. “And what did Einhard see, Hadrack?” I opened my mouth to respond, but the lord didn’t let me. “I’ll tell you what he saw. He saw a young king leaning over the battlements with the sun above him dressed in armor and wearing a helmet.” Fitz laughed. “As for the Amenti, they have a new chieftain now, I understand. One who can tell them to keep their mouths shut.
Besides, the last time most of those warriors saw his Highness, he was naked and riding a pony backwards.” I saw Tyden flush at that as Fitz continued, “We are of the same build and close to the same age, so put me in the king’s armor, and there is a good chance that no one will know the difference between us until it’s too late.” He winked and smiled. “Sometimes, people see exactly what they expect to see, Hadrack.”
“It might work,” Lord Vestry said thoughtfully. “But if I were you, Lord Fitzery, I would send one of your men in your place. No need to subject yourself to who knows what when a commoner will suffice to pull off this ruse.”
Fitz stared at Lord Vestry with contempt. “Even if I chose to do that, lord, which I do not, I’d wager even a Pith heathen could quickly tell the difference between a nobleman and a common soldier.”
Tyden sighed. “While I appreciate the offer, Lord Fitzery, I must, in all gratitude, refuse it.”
“Nonsense,” Fitz grunted. “It’s the only way.” The king’s face turned dark as the young lord hurried to continue, “I mean no disrespect, Your Highness. But I have watched as Hadrack has willingly sacrificed himself more than once to save your life. Now the time has come for me to do the same. We need a man of nobility to play the part, and since Hadrack obviously cannot do it, and Lord Vestry is much too old, that leaves me as the only logical choice.”
“They might kill you, Fitz,” I said, torn between the need to keep Tyden safe and my concern for the young lord. “Even though Einhard is my friend, I can’t guarantee your safety once he has you.”
Fitz waved a hand dismissively. “If that is to be my fate, then so be it. I’m tired of letting you have all the glory. I have to say you’re a little selfish in that respect, Hadrack. All I ask in return is the rest of you raise a mug to me before you send these heathens back to their lands with their tails between their legs.”
It was an impassioned speech, spoken with eloquence and tempered by logic, and though we tried to poke holes in that logic, in the end, we all concluded that it really was our best and only chance. After that, there was little any of us could say except offer Fitz our thanks and admiration, then prepare for the handover of our imposter king and Gasterny. Would Einhard be fooled and believe Lord Fitzery was actually the king? I wasn’t certain at first, but once the young lord was dressed in Tyden’s freshly polished armor with a red cape embroidered with gold, my confidence was bolstered somewhat. We even hammered out a crude crown from a shattered breastplate for Fitz to wear since the king’s had been lost in the battle at the bridge.
We met Einhard, Saldor, and two other Piths that I didn’t know outside the walls of Gasterny less than half an hour later. The four warriors waited in a line, sitting silently on their horses as they watched us approaching. Einhard’s expression was devoid of emotion, showing neither suspicion nor satisfaction at our surrender. I wondered what was going through his mind. Had he already seen through our ploy and was just waiting to vent his anger once we were close enough? Or did he just see a king riding toward him the way that we wanted? I tried to keep my expression as neutral as Einhard’s, though inside, my stomach was churning.
Baine and Jebido rode to either side of me, their faces dark and serious. I had brought them along in hopes of distracting Einhard so that he wouldn’t focus too much on Fitz, who was riding Tyden’s white mare to Jebido’s right. The young lord sat his horse as straight as an arrow, with his nose in the air and his cape wrapped tightly about him. His battered and tarnished crown barely reflected the sunlight, but even so, I thought he looked every bit the part of a king. Someone had found one of Tyden’s torn and frayed eagle banners and had draped it under the mare’s saddle, where it hung down to either side, flapping in the wind.
“So,” Einhard said as we stopped in front of him. He smiled. “I’m glad to see that common sense has not been completely bred out of the king’s of Ganderland just yet.”
“You have won for the moment, heathen,” Fitz said with scathing contempt. I had to suppress a smile of my own. He even sounded like Tyden. “But don’t get too comfortable in your victory, dog. There will be dark days ahead for you and your rabble soon enough, mark my words.”
Einhard grinned. “I’ll try to remember that, Your Highness,” he said before focusing on Jebido. “It’s good to see you after so long, old friend.”
“I wish I could say the same thing,” Jebido grunted back.
“Still the same old Jebido, I see,” Einhard said with a laugh. He shifted his gaze to Baine. “But this one is different now.” Einhard stroked his beard thoughtfully as he studied my friend. “I recall a boy full of laughter and mischief. But that boy is gone, it seems, and a man has taken his place.” Einhard inclined his head slightly toward Baine. “A man who has seen both pain and death, I would guess, and has clearly beaten both.”
“Pain can always be beaten,” Baine said, his eyes dark and threatening. “But death comes for us all.” Baine smiled, but there was no humor in it. “Even for you, Einhard the Unforgiving.” The last time I had seen Baine’s eyes look that way, he’d been describing how he had found the informant who’d told the imposter Outlaw of Corwick about our gold stash under the floorboards at Witbridge Manor. I had been saddened to learn that Ira, the eldest son of Ermos, the village blacksmith, had betrayed that information. I had liked the youth and had been grooming him to join our band.
Einhard and Baine stared at one another for a moment longer, and then the Pith leader broke the spell as he switched his gaze back to Fitz again. “Your Highness,” he said, gesturing to the east. “If you would be so good as to accompany my men to my camp, then we can get on with the important business of sending your soldiers back to their homes and wives.”
“Very well,” Fitz said with a sniff. He edged his horse forward as the two Pith warriors moved to either side of him, one of them grabbing hold of the mare’s reins.
“Remember, Lord Hadrack,” Fitz called out as the three men rode off. “Don’t forget to raise that mug to me.” Then he turned away, staring forward at the Pith camp as they cantered across the field.
“What was that about?” Einhard asked.
I guided Angry as close to Einhard’s horse as I dared, afraid the big black would lash out at the other animal. “The king is convinced you are going to kill him,” I said. “I told him you promised me his life would be safe, but he doesn’t believe it.” I paused, letting Einhard see the threat in my eyes. “I gave the king my word that if you lied to me, then nothing will stop me from avenging his death, not even our friendship.”
“Well,” Einhard said with a chuckle. “I guess I’d better not let anything happen to him, then.” We sat there for a moment longer, and then the Sword sighed as he turned his horse. “You have two hours to clear your men from the garrison, Hadrack. If anyone is still inside after that, they will die.” He hesitated as sudden sadness crossed his features. “I hope we never meet on the battlefield, my friend. I truly do. You are like a blood brother to me.”
“I feel the same way,” I said, fighting to control my emotions. “But if we do meet, I won’t let that stop me from killing you.”
Einhard grinned, the sadness gone now as the confident warrior returned. “I didn’t think it would. Neither will I.” Then he kicked his horse into motion, galloping away.
Baine, Jebido, and I watched him go, and it took me a moment to realize that Saldor was still with us. “Aren’t you going with him?” I asked the Cimbrati.
“I am,” Saldor said. He turned to watch Einhard’s retreating form. “He will be furious with you once he realizes.”
“Realizes what?” I asked innocently.
Saldor grinned and shrugged as he turned his horse to follow after Einhard. “Nothing, Hadrack the Wolf. Nothing at all.”
Three days later, Baine, Jebido, and me, accompanied by the king dressed as a common archer, crossed over the bridge leading to Camwick. We had left Lord Vestry in charge of the rest of the men and had pressed on ahead just th
e four of us, intent on putting as much distance between King Tyden and the Piths as possible. The fear of Einhard coming after us had receded after the first day, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to relax until Tyden was safely behind the walls of Corwick Castle.
The town of Camwick seemed quiet, almost somber as we entered, with the normally busy streets practically deserted. Only a few shopkeepers and merchants were out hawking their wares, all of them women, I noted. Even they seemed to be just going through the motions, as there were few if any customers. In fact, as I looked around, I saw nothing but females except for an old man with one leg hobbling with a crooked staff down a side street.
“What’s this all about?” Jebido muttered uneasily.
I paused Angry when I saw a familiar face. “Trula,” I called out. The girl turned, a basket in her hands. Trula was a weaver specializing in caps, laces, and tassels. Shana had used her services on more than one occasion. “Where is everyone?”
“Why, gone to join the call to arms, my lord,” she said as though it were obvious.
I blinked at her in bafflement. Tyden had taken some of the young men of the town with him when we marched on the Piths, but the survivors I had sent back weeks ago should have returned by now. I didn’t see them or any of the older men either.
“Who issued the call to arms?” I demanded.
“Why, Lady Shana did, my lord.”
I could feel my mouth opening in astonishment and I had to force it closed. “Where is she, Trula?” I asked, feeling anxious now.
The girl pointed to the castle in the distance. “Up there, I expect, my lord.”
I cursed under my breath, then urged Angry through the empty streets at a gallop as the others followed closely behind me. We left the town behind and climbed the road to the castle, where Ubeth awaited us in the outer bailey.
“My Lord!” the bald gatekeeper said, looking relieved when he saw me. “I’m glad you’re back.”
The Wolf At War Page 25
