Jerrol moved. He wanted to be away before the lordling got on the road. He needed to be in a prime position to observe this man’s response when he reached the carnage his greed had caused.
Jerrol made his return journey safely. The guards were not interested in guarding, which was interesting. Aaron didn’t garner respect from his men, or they wouldn’t be so shoddy in performing their duties. He collected the horse from the roadside, but it was done in; it was favouring its foreleg. Probably a strain and the lack of care had helped it to stiffen up.
Leading it away from Deepwater, he considered the best way to get ahead of Aaron. He could steal a horse and leave this one in payment, though maybe it wasn’t quite fair on the recipient and it would leave an unexplained horse in the town.
He was surreptitiously watching a local hostelry when Aaron and his men swept past. They paid no attention to the other travellers on the road, forcing them to move out of their way, leaving chaos and anger in their wake.
This was to Jerrol’s benefit as horses reared in panic and shed handlers, running in all directions. Jerrol snared a sleek bay mare, leaving his poor nag milling about in bewilderment, adding to the chaos. He swung himself up and followed in Aaron’s wake. He would ask Jason to return it to the hostelry later.
Transport problem solved, Jerrol returned to the conversation he had overheard. Not only planned but funded by another Lord Holder. It was worse than he had thought; there was a coordinated plan to sow dissent and destruction. They were starting small in some areas, but the changes they were causing in other regions was breathtaking: two major holds fallen, Guardians removed. Vespiri would be overrun from within, and the King was not taking any steps to stop it.
But worst of all was the decimation of the Watches: Greenswatch and Deepwater, both without Guardians. The Land would suffer. The people would suffer. Everyone would suffer in the end. How could they be so blind? Once lost the Guardianships couldn’t be replaced as far as he knew. Losing a Guardianship had been unheard of, until now.
He stilled the faint flutter of panic and the vagrant thought that this was beyond him, and resolutely focused on the road. Slowly he overtook the group in front, passing unseen and unnoticed by the arrogant men travelling ahead of him.
Chapter 19
Stoneford Keep, Stoneford Watch
Birlerion swept into the courtyard with Hannah, yelling at the guards to form up and follow him. Hannah tumbled down from Zin’talia shouting for Tyrone, as Lord Jason strode into the middle of the confusion calling for order.
“Bandits on the road. The Captain is holding them off, need your men,” Birlerion rattled off as he handed Alyssa down to Tyrone, who appeared beside him. “Hannah can tell you more.”
He pulled his reins so sharply his horse almost rear-ended in his attempt to pirouette out of the courtyard. A few sharp orders from Jason and he was followed by the unit on guard, galloping down the road in pursuit of him.
Tyrone didn’t hesitate but strode back into his infirmary, trailed by Hannah and thereafter by Jason after he had instructed a hovering lad to take care of Zin’talia, who was pulling towards the road. Off duty, men had already taken up the recently vacated posts.
Hannah explained Alyssa’s injuries to Tyrone, which didn’t take long at all, and Tyrone, after depositing the girl on a cot in the backroom, shooed her out. “Leave her with me. I’ll call you if anything changes.”
Jason arrived to hear his words and herded a reluctant Hannah out of the infirmary. “Yes, yes, come with me. We’ll wait for them to return in my study, and you can explain what is going on to me,” he said soothingly. “She’ll be quite safe with Tyrone.”
He managed to get Hannah seated in his study and called for tea. He sat beside her and took her hand. “Now, tell me what happened.”
The tea arrived as Hannah started to worry about leaving Jerrol on his own to face the bandits.
“Best you be commiserating with those bandits, they had no chance,” he said, handing her a welcome cup of tea.
“They were shooting at us,” she exclaimed.
“Yes, but none hit you, did they?” Jason soothed. “You know perfectly well your boy is one of the best Rangers ever turned out by the academy, and he had the training of the scholars as well: a potent mix. No bandit is ever going to get the better of him.”
Hannah sighed, sipping her tea. “He always seems to be where the trouble is happening.”
“Probably because he knows how to deal with it.” Jason reached out to squeeze her arm in reassurance. “He always finds trouble; even as a child he was always in the midst of it.”
“Is it true? Jason,” Hannah said, placing her cup on the table, “is Lord Hugh really dead?”
“Jerrol wouldn’t lie, you know that. He brought the Greenswatch standard back with him. That’s proof enough for me. I sent Bryce over there to assess what happened and to bring the bodies back. He has a good eye. He’ll find out. Let’s hope Lady Alyssa comes around soon; it would help to know what she saw.”
“Why are they taking so long?”
“I imagine they have gone after Jerrol. They would have been back if they were just rounding up your attackers.”
“How can you be so calm?” She clasped her hands in her lap.
“Experience,” he chuckled, “and you should know better.” He pointed his finger at her. “All the escapades you went through with Jerrol, and you’re asking me?”
Birlerion leapt off the back of his horse as he reached the bodies in the road. There was no sign of the Captain, but he hadn’t necessarily expected him to linger. He knelt by the body of one of the archers; shaking his head, he moved from one body to the next. They hadn’t stood a chance. They were unkempt bandits, paid thugs; even their weapons were poorly made. He instructed the men to load the bodies onto the cart and take them back to the keep. Another he sent to lead the horses.
“Sir, we’re a horse short,” the man said. “There are nine bodies; we’ve got eight horses.”
“More like we’re two horses short,” Birlerion corrected. “Captain Haven would have followed if anyone escaped. See if you can find any tracks; at least we’ll know which direction they went.”
“Sir,” one of the soldiers loading the cart called out. “This one is still alive, looks like he was knocked out.”
Birlerion strode over. “Good, at least Haven left us a witness. Keep an eye on him; make sure he stays alive. The Warden will want to speak to that one.”
“Sir, tracks are leading off to the west, towards Deepwater,” called the soldier leading the horses. He scowled. “And none of these horses are in good condition. They’ve been run into the ground.”
“What a surprise,” Birlerion murmured to himself. He watched the men swing the last body on the cart. He couldn’t achieve anything further here. “Return to the keep and inform Lord Jason what we found. Tell him that I’ve gone to help Captain Haven.”
The guards nodded, watching the tall silver-eyed officer with some trepidation as he rode off. They didn’t know who he was, but there was an aura of command about him, and no man was prepared to gainsay him. They shrugged at each other and turned back to the keep.
Birlerion followed the tracks westwards easily enough. The ground was still soft from all the rain, and the horses ahead of him had been moving as fast as their poor condition allowed. The tracks headed straight for Deepwater.
Reining his horse in at the top of a bluff, he looked down at the landscape spread before him; this was a rich land, fertile fields edged by mature timber forests. It looked like they were doing some felling on the West Bank; a number of the ancient trees were down, leaving an unsightly gash in the timberline. In the distance, the first of the three large lakes that gave Deepwater its name gleamed on the horizon.
Taking a deep breath of fresh air, he considered what to do. The Lady expected him to protect the Captain. Though the Captain didn’t make it easy, much like Guerlaire for that matter. He would have followed th
e bandit and would be nearing Deepwater by now. The Captain would not be amused if he blundered in behind him; best to leave him to it. From what he had heard, the Captain was better at the sneaky stuff.
He’d wait for him at the ambush site. He wanted to take another look at the strike zone, something had been niggling him from earlier, and he wanted to check it out. Turning west, he followed the trail dropping down until it met the big East Road. He grinned as he found the road; his innate sense of direction was working. He would make better time now and could skirt south of the big lakes.
It was approaching midday by the time he reached the ambush site. He paused and inspected the scene. Bryce’s men had begun moving the bodies. They had erected an awning to keep the sun off the mass of bodies piled around Lord Hugh. Soldiers stripped to the waist were busy digging a trench, for the bandits no doubt.
Birlerion watched the work progress. This field was not directly on Hugh’s path; it couldn’t be seen from the road at all. So, how had Lord Hugh been persuaded off the road in the first place? They had only diverted because of Taelia; she had directed them to the battle.
Birlerion looped his horse’s reins around the picket line and asked the lad tending the horses to give him some water. He walked up to join the wiry soldier commanding the activities. “Captain.” He saluted. “Birlerion, Captain Haven’s guard.”
Bryce returned the salute. “Bryce, Stoneford. Birlerion, what brings you here?”
“Captain Haven and I were ambushed this morning on the way to the keep. Just wanted to warn you, you might get some company from Deepwater.” As he spoke, Jennery entered the field and approached from the north, an appalled expression on his face as he surveyed the carnage. It was a dismal view.
“Deepwater? I was expecting support from Greenswatch. I sent a dispatch. This is a political nightmare. I have no jurisdiction here, I’m on Deepwater land, with the body of the Lord of the Greenswatch.” Bryce grimaced as if in pain. “And no explanation as to why I am here.”
Jennery dismounted. “You could say you were just passing. There is free travel on the roads,” he suggested brightly.
Bryce snorted.
“Or you could say that a survivor staggered into the keep asking for help, which is almost the truth,” Birlerion said, glaring at Jennery.
Bryce ran his hands through his brown hair and refocused on the scene in front of him. “The main concentration of the battle was around Lord Hugh; he was the target. There was a secondary focus area over to the east, but I can’t see the reason for it at the moment. There are carriage tracks off to the west. I’d say they absconded with the carriage and whoever was in it; he has a daughter, doesn’t he? Could have been her. I’ve sent a squad to track it and report back.”
He walked over to a line of bodies. “These are the bandits. They look like common ruffians to me, clothes and weapons are unkempt, looks like they’ve been living rough for a while. There’re at least fifty of them; we may find more. This is a large number of bandits in one place; they don’t normally work together. They are more likely to fight amongst themselves than cooperate. This is highly unusual.”
“I imagine it was going to be a good payout,” Birlerion said, rubbing his fingers together. He hid his hand as heat tingled on his fingertips, and a blue sparkle flickered over his skin. He tensed; were his powers returning?
“It would have to be,” Bryce agreed. “The scholar has captured the salient points. He’ll start on the portraits shortly.”
“How come you have the talents of a scholar-artist to hand? They are usually in the Chapterhouse in Old Vespers, aren’t they?” Jennery looked across at the scholar with interest.
“He’s in his journeyman year, happened to stop off at the keep, and the Warden invited him to stay and sort out the records room for a while.” Bryce eased his shoulders. “The Warden has been after a scholar for ages.”
“Well,” Jennery said, squinting down the field, “it looks like your day is either about to improve or deteriorate rapidly.” He gestured at a file of mounted soldiers approaching.
Bryce glared at Jennery and strode off to meet the oncoming party. Birlerion followed behind him. The lead rider was frowning; he didn’t hold out much hope of improvement.
Before Bryce could say a word, the man approaching him erupted. “What do you think you are doing here? How dare you touch these men. I am here to sort this out. This is my land.” He stared down his nose at Bryce. “Explain yourself.”
Bryce gave a brisk salute. “Captain Bryce, sir, from Stoneford Keep.”
“Stoneford?” the man snapped. “What is a captain from Stoneford doing in Deepwater?”
“Report of an ambush arrived early this morning, sir. We were ordered to assist and recover.”
“Why didn’t they come to me for help? I am the Lord of Deepwater and Deepwater is nearer,” the lordling huffed.
“Couldn’t say, m’lord,” Bryce replied blandly. Birlerion stared at the lord stonefaced, providing subtle support for Bryce.
“Well, you can stop now. I am here now, and I will assist Lord Hugh,” the lordling said, glaring at Bryce with distaste. He paused as one of his men approached and spoke quietly in his ear.
“Ah, yes. Where is the carriage and Lady Alyssa?” Lord Aaron twisted in his saddle as if the carriage would magically appear before him.
“The tracks lead off to the west, my lord. I sent a patrol to scout.”
“That was unnecessary, captain. Make sure you bury those bodies. I will save Lady Alyssa.” Lord Aaron gave him a sharp nod and led his men away.
“Pompous ass! Such little surprise and so few questions,” Jennery said as he joined the stiff-backed captain. “Interesting that he knew Lord Hugh was dead without actually asking.”
“Yes, he shows a distinct lack of respect for a fellow Lord Holder, and no concern for the safety of his neighbours or his people. Are bandits so common here in Deepwater, I wonder,” Bryce bit out as he turned back to the field. “I expect Greenswatch to arrive shortly. We need to get Lord Hugh ready to return home.” He pulled the Greenswatch standard out of his pocket and walked over to where Lord Hugh now lay. Bryce reseated the pole by his head and retied the flag to the end. “Private,” he called to a young soldier who was resolutely bending over the feet of another body.
The soldier snapped to attention. “Yessir?”
“Here, stand guard. No one touches him till I say so, got it?” Bryce rapped.
“Yes, sir.” The private took position behind Lord Hugh’s body and the Greenswatch standard, his eyes front and fixed, his face blank and his posture stiff.
Bryce saluted the standard, before turning back to the grisly work his men were performing. “What a waste,” he said, his face cold and severe as his gaze swept the field again.
Jerrol waited for Aaron to leave before he sauntered towards them, leading his wind-blown horse. “Well, that is disappointing,” he said as he nodded at Bryce and saluted more respectfully to the standard at the head of Lord Hugh’s body.
“What is?” Bryce’s voice was sharp. He was at the end of his tether and not appreciating Jerrol’s levity.
“That the Lord of Deepwater is not prepared to relieve you of this situation. A bit surprising that, wouldn’t you say?”
Jennery snorted. “He couldn’t wait to follow the skirts. Break a sweat? I don’t think he knows how.”
“But how much of this do we think he knew in advance? And how do we prove it to Greenswatch? Do we even want to? I am wondering how distraught young Simeon will be at the thought of ascending to his father’s powers.” Jerrol frowned. “Do we want to create an all-out war between Greenswatch and Deepwater?”
“Don’t you think it would be interesting to see Simeon’s reaction to the accusation?” Jennery asked.
“Which we can’t make without proof,” Jerrol said. “I believe hearsay doesn’t count.”
Birlerion stared at Jerrol. “What have you heard? You went to Deepwater, didn’t you
? Was that the source of the attack on us? Surely that is proof. It is a direct link to this.” Birlerion waved his hand at the carnage around them.
Jerrol grimaced. “Unfortunately, I don’t think I am a reliable witness at the moment.”
“Depends who we are convincing,” Jennery argued.
“Looks like Greenswatch has arrived,” Bryce said, as a long column of mounted riders entered the field, the green standard of Greenswatch leading the way. They came to a halt, and the lead riders dismounted. After a brief conversation, Lord Hugh’s steward approached alone, and Captain Bryce walked forward to meet him.
Garrick acknowledged Bryce but continued walking towards the Greenswatch standard; Bryce fell in beside him. Garrick came to a stop beside the body of his lord, his face pale and strained. He saluted the standard and turned to Bryce. “You are relieved,” he said, his voice cold and expressionless. Bryce saluted and stepped back. The Greenswatch honour guard approached in step and took up position at the four corners.
Garrick signalled, and the horse-drawn bier at the rear of the column entered the field. They lifted their lord onto the bier, draping his body with Greenswatch colours, and the honour guard retook their position at the four corners, at full attention.
Garrick stood stiff and silent, watching. Jerrol approached him carefully. “My lord steward,” he said. “I am so sorry for your loss, but there are matters to discuss.” He gave Lord Hugh’s ring to the steward. Garrick stared at the ring as Jerrol continued. “ Lady Alyssa was recovered from the field and is in the infirmary at Stoneford under the care of Healer Tyrone. Captain Bryce sent a troop after the Lady’s carriage, and they are yet to return. Lord Aaron and his men followed them. I regret to inform you that he didn’t stay long enough to be informed that Lady Alyssa wasn’t in the carriage.”
A muscle twitched in Garrick’s cheek. “Lady Alyssa is unharmed?”
Sentinals Awaken: Book One of the Sentinals Series Page 16
