A New Darkness (24 page)

I turned to Grimalkin, who started to translate for my benefit. A burly warrior turned to look at us, but she gave him a withering glare and continued.

“The magowie says that a brave man died today, the champion of Shallotte. He did his duty, but he was not the chosen one. Now the angel has spoken. The one who will prevail against the Shaiksa walks among us! Soon he will declare himself—the moment is almost upon us. Then he will kill Kauspetnd, and before the moon is full he will lead us over the river to victory. Now the magowie bids us return to our beds and gather our strength for the coming battle.”

The three magowie descended from the hill and merged with the crowd. We were forced backward, so we went with the flow and soon found ourselves approaching the camp again.

“How did you know this would happen tonight?” Jenny demanded as she put more wood on the fire and set two rabbits to cook over it.

Grimalkin shrugged. “This has been going on for months. Every week a human champion is defeated and slain. I witnessed it myself on my previous visit here.”

“I’ve seen flying lamias before, but what was that?” I asked.

“It was an angel, as your apprentice suggested. Weren’t you listening to my translation?” Grimalkin asked with a smile.

“Angels are just things out of fables,” I said, shaking my head. Did Grimalkin really believe this? If so, she was going too far. I just couldn’t accept it.

“It flew down from heaven, cast beams of light, filled the three magowie with holy bliss, and then disappeared. Presumably it spoke to those three wise men in some mysterious fashion—perhaps giving them more of a message than they told us. It seemed very much like an angel to me,” Grimalkin said, a hint of mockery in her voice.

I suddenly felt foolish. She was just being facetious. She didn’t believe it was an angel at all.

“Maybe some form of dark magic was being used,” Jenny suggested, turning the rabbits on the spit so that the juices dribbled into the fire and sizzled. The smell made my mouth water. “Perhaps it was an illusion?”

“What does it matter what
we
believe?” asked Grimalkin. “The important thing is that all gathered around that hill were believers. When someone defeats Kauspetnd, they will accept that victor as their leader and follow him across the river to attack our enemies. It’s exactly what we want. This is why I brought you here, Tom. I need you to fight and kill that assassin!”

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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27

Prince Stanislaw

“B
UT
how could I?” I asked, looking at her in astonishment. “I’ve never seen anybody with so much skill with blades—except you.”

Grimalkin was adamant. “He has two weaknesses that I have detected already. I will study him to find more. Then I will train you until your victory is assured.”

“Why don’t
you
kill him?” I asked. “You could use the Starblade to deflect any magical powers.”

“You need to listen more carefully to what I tell you,” Grimalkin said. She sounded annoyed. “The Starblade works only for
you
. It will only repel magic directed at
you
. Not that I need that type of defense to fight that Shaiksa assassin; it is a point of honor with them not to use magic. I could kill him with my own blades, but
you
must do it. You will use the Starblade in any case because its balance is perfect for you.”

“Why won’t you kill him?”

“My victory would achieve nothing because I am a woman—and a witch to boot. These petty princelings and warlords of the northern border would never follow me. But you are male, and soon we will state your lineage.”

“What do you mean by my lineage?”

“Princelings will never deign to follow a commoner such as you,” Grimalkin said. “Therefore we will have to exaggerate your status. Have no fear—these border kingdoms are far from our homeland. They know nothing of the County here. They will accept you as their leader, even if they do so reluctantly. Then we can use this army to probe the Kobalos defenses, and in the process learn what we can about them.”

“This isn’t what you told me before we traveled north,” I said accusingly. “This was supposed to be a fact-finding mission, not a full-scale military offensive.”

“It would be nothing more than a raid. Later I will explain my objectives,” she replied.

“I still think it would be far easier and more certain for you to fight Kauspetnd. You’re a skilled shape-shifter.”

Grimalkin shook her head. “I do not truly shift my shape, as a lamia witch does. I merely use dark magic to create an illusion of being somebody else.”

“But that illusion would stand up to scrutiny, wouldn’t it . . . ?” Before she could answer, I continued, “I could slip away, and you could assume my shape and fight the assassin.”

“No, we both need to be here. Once you’ve dispatched the assassin, that motley assortment of warlords will challenge you. At the moment they regard the Shaiksa with awe, but once he’s dead, they’ll quickly convince themselves that you’ve been lucky. But you won’t need to fight them too, because I will then be your champion. Their rules permit that, and they will be forced to fight me. I will kill as many as is necessary until they accept you as their leader.”

“Rabbit!” Jenny called out, and began to hand it out.

I took my portion gratefully, wanting for the moment to put Grimalkin’s dangerous plan out of my mind.

Out of sight of Grimalkin, Jenny rolled her eyes at me. She evidently did not like what had been outlined by the witch assassin either.

Once my stomach was full, I became drowsy and could hardly keep my eyes open. We were all fast asleep in our tent within the hour.

But I had a rude awakening.

Grimalkin was shaking my shoulder violently and hissing into my ear, “Wake yourself and dress in these clothes. Make yourself as presentable as possible.” She thrust a pile of folded garments into my hands. “Take five minutes and step outside with your head high. Then look our visitors in the eye and follow my lead. If they bow to you, merely nod in return. If you do well, nobody will get hurt.”

As soon as she’d gone, I examined the clothes by the light of a candle. The upper garment, an ornate tunic, was made of satin and looked very expensive; the trousers were more suited to the outdoors, but were expertly tailored. Finally there was a thick, warm cloak with a red clasp shaped like a rose. Grimalkin must have had these made in the County and hidden them among her own possessions.

I was still half asleep; the last thing I wanted was to dress up in these strange clothes and pretend to be what I wasn’t. And I was becoming angry too.

Grimalkin had planned for me to fight Kauspetnd all along; she’d arranged everything in detail. She’d had a clear design all along, and I was a central part of it. I was being used.

After dressing, I tugged on my socks and pushed my feet into my boots. Next I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and dashed some water in my face. Jenny was still lying wrapped in her blankets, sleeping deeply. I envied her.

Finally I took a deep breath and stepped outside.

There were five armed men facing Grimalkin; four were on horseback, one had dismounted. The latter was dressed in expensive armor, with a chain-mail coat that came down to his knees and a metal breastplate in which I could see my own reflection. He was very tall and had a dark moustache that obscured his mouth. His dark eyebrows met in the middle, reminding me of my brother Jack.

Grimalkin spoke to the soldier in Losta. . Then she turned, bowed to me, and translated.

“I’ve told him that you are Prince Thomas, the youngest son of the King of Caster.” She gave me a smile. “I thought that was better than admitting you were a farmer’s lad!”

It was only with great difficulty that I prevented my mouth from falling open. The man stared at me hard for a moment, as if measuring me for a coffin, and then he too gave a bow. Remembering Grimalkin’s warning, I responded with the merest nod of my head.

The soldier spoke very quickly, directing his words at me. I couldn’t understand what he said, but I could read his tone and attitude by the flickering of his eyes and the way his heavy brows contorted as he spoke. He began with an air of haughty arrogance, but as his conversation with Grimalkin went on, I detected a note of surprise in his voice.

“He says that his name is Majcher, and he is high steward to Prince Stanislaw of Polyznia. All who gather here, on this southern riverbank, must apparently pay tax for the privilege. That’s why we have the honor of his visit. But now that he knows who you are, that is forgotten: all royals and their retinue are exempt.” Grimalkin lowered her voice a little. “Now we come to our first problem—he is surprised that you travel with such a small escort. I suspect he doubts you are who you claim to be.”

I opened my mouth, but Grimalkin was already speaking, so I closed it again. She had a lot to say.

Once again she turned to give me a translation of what she’d said to Majcher.

“I told him that you are the seventh and youngest son of your father; a favorite who is well loved and held on a short leash lest he come to harm. I said that this has made you impatient, as you have a natural love of adventure. Thus, when you heard of the events on the bank of the Shanna River, you rode off in the night to come here and challenge the Shaiksa assassin. I said that your father, the king, was concerned by your departure; he dispatched me and one servant girl to ride after you and keep you safe. Your retinue follows and should arrive any day.”

“But we know that’s not going to happen,” I replied. “What about when they don’t appear?”

“We’ll worry about that later,” she said. “Now I am going to ask him about the protocol for challenging Kauspetnd.”

She turned to the steward again, and they continued to talk in Losta; this time the discussion went on for some time. At last Grimalkin turned and gave me the gist of what had been said.

“Now it is my turn to come under scrutiny,” she observed, her eyes flickering with amusement. “He wonders why your father should send a woman to protect you. I confirmed what I believe he suspected already, that I am a witch. Each of these princelings has a pet mage, a magowie they consult, so I informed him that in our part of the world, witches perform a similar role. I also told him that not only am I skilled in the arts of combat, I am your father’s champion. Who else was better fitted to follow and act as your protector?”

“Does he believe all that you told him?” I asked.

Grimalkin shrugged. “I do not think that he is totally persuaded, but it is his master, the prince, called the Wolf of Polyznia by his subjects, who we must convince. Now Majcher is leaving to report back to him. When we finally meet the prince, I will use a little magic to ease the process.”

The warrior nodded to me, climbed onto his horse, and led his men away.

“So far, so good,” Grimalkin said with a smile.

The five men returned on foot before noon, and after a brief conversation, Grimalkin translated for me.

“We are to be given an audience with Prince Stanislaw, but must leave our weapons behind. The high steward gives his assurance that he will escort us there and back and, if necessary, protect us with his life.”

“Do you believe him?” I asked.

“I think Majcher is speaking the truth. But to achieve what we need here, there must be risk, and we are in no position to refuse.”

I nodded and handed the Starblade to Jenny. Grimalkin disarmed herself too, removing each blade from its sheath and finally handing Jenny her scissors. I never thought I’d see her willingly give up her weapons like this, and the look on Jenny’s face showed that she was thinking the same thing.

“Stay behind and guard our possessions, girl!” Grimalkin commanded as we set off.

I could tell by her expression that Jenny was far from happy at being left behind. I had told her about what had happened during the night; she was worried about Grimalkin’s plan, and keen to accompany us. “Can’t you use a spell again?” I asked.

Grimalkin shook her head. “I don’t wish to risk arousing people’s suspicions. What’s more, the girl is supposed to be the servant of a prince; she would not accompany you to visit another of royal blood—whereas I am your champion.”

With no spell of protection to guard them, someone did need to stay behind, or we might return to find our horses, provisions, and weapons gone. I didn’t expect Jenny to fight off a band of determined robbers, but her presence would be a deterrent to opportunistic thieves.

The high steward walked ahead, our escort behind. We wound our way through the huge camp, passing tents of all sizes, until at last we came to a big circle of fires surrounded by vigilant guards armed with spears. Within this stood the largest tent I had ever seen. It was as big as three County cottages combined. Instead of the usual cone covered in animal skins, it was a giant oblong made from a heavy brown material.

I was uneasy and a little scared. Even if we could somehow persuade this prince to allow me to fight the Shaiksa, I saw nothing ahead but failure and death. I did not share Grimalkin’s optimism. How could I hope to defeat such a formidable foe in single combat?