War Bow

by P. S. Power

  The man went still when Anders turned and stared directly at him. The man seemed familiar, even if he was certain they hadn’t met before. Not directly.

  Anders simply nodded his way, since laughing at the Prince wasn’t a brilliant plan, most days. Not if you weren’t part of the conversation to start with and in his good graces.

  “Hello.” He bowed then, using first courtly. That was polite, without being servile. The other man did it back, a bit stiffly. Not as if he had problems of the body, but rather as if he didn’t like Anders much. Which, given everything, meant that this could only be one person. “Baron Brolly, isn’t it?”

  His mother went very straight, but she didn’t make eye contact with the man at all. She would have, if Anders had been mistaken. Prince Alpert made a sound that seemed to speak of a bull readying for battle. Anders simply locked eyes with the man, then smiled. It was enough to get one in return.

  “Indeed, I am, boy.” He rolled his eyes then and made a soft, disapproving sound. “Not that you are one of those any longer. Not if even half the tales I’ve heard of you are true. I suppose that tens of people could have lied to me about that, of course. That seems a bit much, to simply prop up the heroic fiction of some average child, don’t you think?”

  Several people seemed ready to move on the man then, violently, for the insult being delivered. Anders simply nodded.

  After all, that would be far too much to try to convince the man of.

  “No doubt. Still, regardless of what you’ve heard, if that many are willing to get together to help me by tricking you, then that would still be impressive, don’t you think? Has anyone bothered saying anything good about me, or has it all been... Well, there have been a few issues of late.”

  Things he wasn’t going to speak about, having been warned not to. Possibly for the very reason that a man who had tried to kill him had come to visit.

  The fellow pretended to find his words humorous. The smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  “Oh, have you been up to things you shouldn’t, at your tender age. Tisk, boy. Shame be upon you. People will talk, if you keep that up. It’s upsetting to some, when they find that others have been up to no good. They might even try to kill you over it.”

  Alpert moved in a way that indicated a knife was about to come out and Lady Lyse did something totally different with a similar end point. Countess Rainly and at least one of her witch friends summoned magic of some sort, and were ready to bring it into play. Given the women only dealt in matters of the weather, he didn’t know what that would bring about, but they were going to do it, if the man in front of him acted on his implied threat.

  Anders nodded, rather thoughtfully. His voice was calm, almost to the point of seeming bored.

  “They might. You won’t though. As of right now, there is absolutely no reason to. Making an enemy of someone roughly willing to forgive you for trying to kill them once, which is very against my normal thoughts on the matter, I assure you, would be foolish. People have spoken many words about you, but fool hasn’t been one of them. You can have those papers drawn up and witnessed tonight, I’m certain.”

  The man stopped then and blinked.

  “What papers do you mean?”

  Ander shrugged, not truly caring about the conversation any longer.

  “The ones re-owning me, or however that’s said? Not that I expect us to be close or anything. It will simply be a sign that we don’t have to fight to the death, any time soon. Normally we could signal that wasn’t needed by simply being reasonable people, but as you have heard things about me, I too, have heard of you.” He nearly added that they could choose that as an option, fighting to the death, when the man laughed at him.

  At least, he sounded like it was derisive. Until he spoke. Then the words were a good bit more pleasant. A bit slick at the edges, as if the man had planned to say something similar, all along. If so, he was a master of manipulation, because Anders couldn’t see how he would have known to have the statement ready at all.

  “Oh, you are a bold one, aren’t you? I’d heard that about you, among other, less savory, things. Fine then, Anders Brolly...” The fellow bowed then, using decent, if not perfect form for it. “I was, it seems, in error when I spoke before, in haste and anger, all those years ago. I’ll have those papers drawn up and marked by the scribe here. Just in case all those people haven’t been going around lying about you to me, for some reason. As you pointed out, it would have meaning even if they were, so I need to go carefully here, obviously.”

  Then the man, rather smartly, turned on his heel and walked out of the courtyard.

  Chapter thirteen

  Anders didn’t get to tap on the door to Prince Robarts office, since the two men in front of it did that for him. One of them did at least, with the other watching him suspiciously the whole time. Anders smiled at the man, Gull, since he knew him from his weapons practice. Indeed, the man was his knife fighting instructor, as much as he had one.

  That didn’t mean he wouldn’t ram a spear through Anders middle, in that moment, if he turned out to be a threat. They didn’t speak, past a general greeting. No names were used, either. Not until the other man announced him, to the closed door.

  “Master Brolly is here, Sire.”

  When the door opened the face that appeared was that of Princess Aisla, not Robarts at all. She smiled at him, her slightly broad face lighting up.

  “Anders! Come in. We’ve been waiting for you.” She moved back to let him in, the two men shifting their spears just enough for him to squeeze through, if he turned sideways.

  For the life of him Anders couldn’t tell why they did that, when there was no one else in the hallway. His best guess was that it was either all about tradition, or possibly training people to go into the room one at a time, in case several attackers actually managed to make it past them, under the pretense of official visitation.

  Inside the space there were only four people. Aisla didn’t settle in her seat, moving in to hug him first. That was a tight thing, done with family feeling that Anders had never felt he truly deserved. The woman was of a different culture, so figured herself to be his mother, if at a remove. The child of her husband by his first wife. It meant something to her, so Anders hugged her back, if briefly, not truly wanting to cuddle the woman in front of the other men there.

  Mainly to prevent his body from betraying him. The woman was of sturdy and possibly even strong build, but his youthful form would have liked to do adult things with her, if the chance were provided. It was a thing that he wasn’t going to do, of course. Not even if offered. After all, it could be seen as an insult to Prince Alpert, who was too important for him to push at, most days.

  When the woman stepped back, to the tolerant smiles of the others there, as if that kind of welcome was only to be expected for him, he bowed. Prince Robarts stood and did it back, as did General Nesmith. The King rose to his own feet, if a bit slowly, as if his back might be aching that day. There was a wince of discomfort in the move. He reached out though, carefully, and took the sealed and folded sheets of paper from Anders’ extended left hand.

  “Well met, again this day, Master Brolly. Now... one moment, please, gentles.” The man settled, carefully, and read the whole of the report. Then he doubled back over portions of it. When he finished, he folded the thing back up and closed it, setting it to the side. Anders was left on his feet the whole time, waiting, but it didn’t take the man long to finish it, even if it was several pages long.

  “Please, sit.” When Anders did, taking a soft chair across from the King, the cream-colored cloth of the cushions pristine, the other man went on. “There has been a rather serious event, while you were away. One we didn’t tell you of, for your peace of mind. There’s been a death, I fear.”

  Anders looked around, and nodded.

  It wasn’t anyone that he’d seen that day, given the delivery. Depak Sona wasn’t about, but if he was gone, Aisla would have been in mourning for him,
since the man was a family member. In an odd way, the same would have probably been true if it had been Master Belford, with the King himself being troubled. That no one there was too worked up probably meant it was important, but not a person anyone there felt close to. One that Anders was.

  “One of the Ambassadorial staff?” If it was an Ambassador, the kingdom would have been in another war, no doubt. That, or struggling to prevent it from happening. There were three or four people that it could have been, who would have been important to Anders, himself. At least that anyone there might have guessed at. Among the Modroc people, there were only two that might have gotten him to go into a rage, of course.

  He hadn’t seen any of them, since being back.

  The King tightened his face then, and nodded.

  “Yes. A man named Natan Smidt. The Assistant Ambassador from the Modroc. He was poisoned, About a month ago. We believe it was in a bottle of celebratory wine. A thing that hundreds of people could have had contact with.” He tightened his face again. “Which... Well, it’s almost certainly Mistress Colm, except that Master Belford was with her at the time, paying court to her, as you ordered.”

  That wasn’t exactly what had happened, but Anders nodded, since that could be gotten around. Poison had to be inside the body to work, after all. An herb woman would probably know of hundreds of things that would kill a man, of course. That knowledge didn’t mean she was guilty, of course.

  “Has she been imprisoned?”

  The King shook his head and leaned forward. As if trying to tell Anders something.

  “No. We have no proof of guilt. Only suspicions based on her coming and going while not being seen. Certainly, a capable spy might be working for almost anyone, here. If we killed every spy in this place every time something happened, the halls would be near to empty. The trouble is that we have to present someone to the Modroc, with enough proof of their guilt that it will seem that we have honestly addressed the issue. That Mistress Colm has proof of her whereabouts during the likely moments of the crime means that we can’t simply deliver her up to them.”

  Robarts closed his eyes for a moment.

  “It’s been weighing on my mind, since Master Tolan contacted me, some weeks ago, on the matter. He was a friend of yours, I hear?”

  Anders thought that sounded a bit too close, but he nodded.

  “We had a passing acquaintance. Enough that I won’t let him go unavenged, if possible. Not so much that I’d tear the world apart, if we can’t work this out, if that was a concern.” That it might be was a thing that Anders and Robarts could both see and the other three there probably wouldn’t understand at all.

  Except that General Nesmith nodded as the Prince did.

  “It was, truly, Master Brolly. There was... Well, we had a set of missives from the King of Yanse. The man rather asked after you directly.” There was a slight hesitation, but the General went on, even as the others there looked away or seemed ready to run, or at least placate him. “In fact, the man offered to set aside lands and gold for you, as well a title. It seems that more than one of his people had suggested to him that removing you from the battlefield would be to their benefit.”

  From the reactions in the room, a few thought he might be tempted by the offer, as well. He probably should have been. Truly, if it had come at a time when they weren’t at war, he would have thought about it most carefully. At that moment, he simply smiled.

  “That’s clever of him then, isn’t it? Several of his people suggested such things to me. Prisoners at the time. I take it that they were ransomed? That didn’t work at the time, so the man sent a letter to you, making such an offer, knowing that it would have to reflect on me, in your eyes. If you distrust me, I can’t be as effective against them, at least in theory.”

  The General grinned at him then.

  “Which was obvious to us, as well. There was some fear that you might throw in with them, given that...” He stopped then, looking away. The man kept his face free of hair, which left him seeming more youthful than the gray hair on his head indicated. In the moment lines showed, as he frowned.

  King Mathias spoke then, making direct eye contact with Anders.

  “As a bastard of Prince Alpert, you haven’t been treated well here. Fed and given clothing and upkeep, but little more than that, over the years. Truly, we’ve crippled you, in many ways. We didn’t see to your education, or see to a trade for you, until most recently. A person treated in such a fashion might not be kindly disposed to us, when an offer of wealth and power is on the table like this. Which... Well, could we blame you for taking it? I mean, we would blame you, officially, if you did, but in private quarters, such things would be a horrible temptation.”

  Anders had to fight a rolling of his eyes. After all, he understood what the man was getting at. Anders hadn’t been treated as a Prince would have, and Farad was a man of not only another land, but a totally different time. It could be thought that he had no allegiances there at all. That was, nearly, true. Except that he had friends and those who had helped him. Depak, Tolan and Master Belford all came to mind. Captain Ford as well. Even the Master Fletcher and the bowyer had spent time and effort on him, in the last half year.

  “I fear that nothing much is tempting me right now, except my bed. I’m exhausted. I’ve been using far too much magic, on a daily basis.” He looked at Aisla, who had been a student Magician, even if she didn’t practice much any longer, given the people of her new land feared such things so greatly. “I didn’t just eat regularly, I had triple portions and more.” He held his arms out, as she nodded at him.

  Her voice was firm then.

  “I see. You’ve lost weight. I noticed that both Prince Robarts and Prince Erold were the same as when they left, but you’re nearing skeletal in your appearance. If you were eating that much, then you must have pushed to ridiculous levels.” She glared at Robarts, as if it would be his fault that had happened.

  The Prince simply nodded back at her.

  “Truly, he did. At times he had to harden the path in front of us, so we could make good time. It was hundreds of miles of road, really. He also worked out some jails for the prisoners, built out of earth, in mere minutes. Great buildings that will stand for years, if not decades. In battle...” The man smiled then. There was grimness in it, at least. “I know that made the reports, but I can’t tell you how impressive it truly was. Not just in power either. Three times the Yansians brought a master illusionist against us, and Anders slapped them back with a chant. Not a thing of magic, either. Ba-ru-da. It means illusion, in their language. They presented us with fearsome rains of fire from the sky, or horrible monsters and we stood there, seeming to laugh at their feeble attempts. They weren’t, by the way. Feeble? Whoever that illusionist is, I’ve never even heard of the likes before. Even knowing that the visions weren’t real, I nearly soiled myself each time.”

  Anders could see that, having been there to witness it.

  Instead of letting them go on about how foolishly he’d used his abilities, he nodded at the King.

  “So, I need time to build back up, and won’t be running off to Yanse, to take up rulership of my new lands there. Really, you should write back with an offer to let them purchase my absence from the battlefield for half a year. Some gold, perhaps? Maybe a wife? I did have an offer from one of the women there.” It hadn’t been real, but he was attempting to make a jest of things.

  The King simply went still, then nodded and got the report back around.

  “Elanna Smith, daughter of Baron Smith, of Dogenis... I don’t know if that would be considered a high enough position for an alliance marriage. Let me have the archivist research that? I have your point, on that offer though, since the plan is for you to be gone for at least that long. Longer, in fact. On the positive side, you’ve already met the young woman. Did you find her pleasant?”

  Anders blinked and then nodded.

  “Oddly, considering she’d been taken prisoner in war, she was
rather pleasant. She offered her body to me, to purchase protection for her fellows. I didn’t take her up on it, of course, heeding your words on the matter, King Mathias. It also wasn’t needed at the time. I tried to check in on things after I left, but I’m not up on the current state of who’s still with us and who has been ransomed back at this point.”

  No one else there had that kind of information either, of course. The rolls of who was prisoner at the moment were a thing, but no one bothered to memorize them. Anders shrugged though. He didn’t really want to marry that young, and doubted it would happen.

  “I have her family sword, in my things. Those of several other noblemen, as well. I could have that sent back to her, as a sign of...” He didn’t know what that might show, if anything. “Really, we could send all the heirlooms back, if you want. Just extract a promise that they won’t be used in war against us? At least for a time. I only have seventy-three such things. I wasn’t planning on keeping them anyway.”

  Everyone looked at him then, as if he might be foolish or mentally slow. General Nesmith actually laughed at his words.

  “You have their weapons? The important pieces, at least? Yes, if we can do that, we might want to, as a show of good faith. That... Well, if you lose your family sword in battle, you tend not to get it back. That will probably shock and surprise more than a few people.”

  The King clapped his hands, one time, and then looked at Anders again.

  “Very well. We’ll send that off within the day. Now, General Coelder attempted to have you killed. We can’t afford to remove him at the moment, from the front. We can have him killed when he returns, if you wish?”

  The words were, no doubt, meant to shock him. He’d gotten that much from the man himself, using magic, so was ready for the idea. Actually, he shrugged.

  “It was his intent, at the time, to try and bury the problem. He was pleased enough when I won the trial by combat, however. That... Really, if he’d waited, I probably would have asked him to arrange such a thing anyway. Those men were going to die, regardless.” He didn’t know if he could explain it, but out of the group there only Aisla seemed not to know the story.