Scrivener's Tale (54 page)

‘Wait here,' the maid said to Hamelyn.

‘He comes with me,' the king ordered and stared her down when the maid began to protest. ‘Hamelyn, I'll need you to run a message to Captain Wentzl shortly, so stick close, boy,' he instructed in a gruff voice, different to his reflective tone earlier.

Act!
Ham reminded himself. ‘Yes, sire,' he mumbled as he'd seen Meek do.

‘And straighten up, boy! You're in the presence of a princess and soon to be your queen!'

Ham straightened his bearing, looking up at the top of the door as they entered the chamber. The sculpture of a dragon stared down at him.

I am here, Hamelyn
, said a familiar voice. The dragon had spoken in his mind now.

Master Fynch
! He wondered if he were going mad through fear.

Guide the king, child. Remember, you are now in the presence of evil. And evil is cunning.

Ham took a deep breath and followed the king into the chamber where the puppet princess awaited them.

‘We're here,' she said, pointing to the end of the tunnel.

‘Another hidden door?' Cassien asked.

She smiled. ‘My trusty key,' the queen said, reaching for it again. ‘We're fortunate this doesn't lead directly into the crypt because Father Cuthben is there, laying out the dead of Stoneheart.'

‘So where do we enter?' Gabe asked.

‘You'll see,' she said mysteriously.

Florentyna went through identical motions as before, and soon they were entering the cistern of the great cathedral. Gabe gasped.

‘Amazing!' he whispered. ‘It's huge!'

Cassien wanted to take the time to look around. He hadn't mentioned to either of his companions that visiting the cathedral was one of his most persistent ambitions. He was distracted by Florentyna, who was busy pulling her hair from its pins and pulling off the jewellery she was wearing. She stuffed it all in the pocket of her cloak.

‘There,' she said. ‘No more queen. Do I look like a pilgrim?'

‘You'll do, your majesty,' Cassien smiled. He didn't think she'd ever looked more beautiful than with her hair untidy as it was now, unfurling over her shoulders.

‘Don't call me majesty,' Florentyna warned. ‘Just call me Florrie or something.'

‘Tyna?' Gabe suggested.

She smirked. ‘I can cope with that for a bell or two. Let's not get noticed by Father Cuthben. Move quickly once we get to the top of the stairs. We'll have to go past the crypt, but it doesn't have a view of anything but legs passing on the stairs from memory. It's so deep, you see. The stairs lead into the back of the cathedral by the great altar. Don't run,' she whispered. Then smiled. ‘We're pilgrims remember. Saunter down the nave — separately. I'll meet you at the front doors.'

They nodded.

‘Hey!' said a voice from the other side of the pool of water. ‘Who are you?' He began to call to men above.

‘Oh, Shar. It's the cathedral guard. I'd forgotten,' Florentyna hissed.

‘How many?' Cassien growled.

‘Six permanent.'

‘I hope they're expendable.'

‘What?' she said, looking at him in alarm.

‘No-one can know we've come through here. No-one. Gabe, as soon as you can, get the queen up those stairs.'

‘How? They're —'

‘I'll make it possible. Just do it. They mustn't see her face or make any connection. Understand? Now behind me, you two. Florentyna, hide yourself.
No-one
must know the queen is here.'

The man was coming towards them and other men followed behind him.

‘Cassien, don't kill,' Florentyna urged.

‘Too late,' he murmured. ‘It's what I'm trained to do when your life's threatened.'

Gabe dragged the queen into the shadows. The cistern was huge and they had the advantage of the pond of water that separated them from the cathedral guard. However, the stairway to safety and freedom was blocked by the guards.

‘Who are you?'

‘No-one,' Cassien said. ‘Lost pilgrims.'

‘No-one's allowed down here. I don't know how you even got here through our security.'

‘It was a mistake,' Cassien replied. ‘We will leave.'

‘You're coming with us.'

‘I don't think so. I want no trouble, sir, but you will force it, if you persist.'

The guard laughed. ‘You're no pilgrim. You're hiding something. Take him.'

Cassien drew his sword and everyone paused.

‘There are six of us,' the man reminded him. ‘Are you sure you want to die?'

‘Do you?'

The guard sighed. ‘Do not hurt the woman unless she draws a weapon. The other two can be killed if they resist.'

‘Wait!' the queen said, stepping forward.

‘She can die too, if she doesn't submit. I might even let you have some time with her,' the guardsman joked with his companions.

‘I take it back, Cassien,' Florentyna said, her voice sounding like ice splinters. ‘Do what you must.'

Cassien leapt. They were not expecting such a daring move. He swooped among the rafters of the low roof, swinging agilely in a disorderly pattern so none could pin him down. He took out the first man with a heel to his jaw before any of the guards had even drawn their weapons. The man dropped like a stone into the water. The second was felled by a circular swing of the sword as he landed, cleaving the man almost in half. He heard Florentyna gag in the distance, but he was losing himself now. He had trained for this. Flesh felt different to straw, but he would ponder that later.

Two men surged towards him. Cassien spun one way high; that man blocked, but Cassien then spun so fast and low that he took him at the knees and the man went down screaming. The other was already swinging, but Cassien had anticipated this and had reached for the blade at his back. The blade buried itself into the man's groin. Cassien stood, wrenching away his blade. Two remained. They backed up a little. He took the opportunity to finish off the guard, who'd near enough had his legs chopped off at the knees. The moans stopped. He wanted no further help to come running.

Four were now dead. He wiped his blades clean on one of them.

‘I would have spared your lives if you hadn't threatened rape. What would your queen think?'

‘Frigid Florentyna?' the head guard said. ‘She could use a good seeing to.'

Cassien blinked. He didn't need to look the queen's way to know how well that crude remark must have gone over.

‘Let's not waste time, gentlemen. I'm now between you and the stairs. There's no getting away, so you might as well chance your arms. Gabe, take her.'

He could hear his friends shuffling around the walking ledge that surrounded the waterway, towards the stairs.

‘Over my dead body,' the guard threatened.

‘That would be a pleasure,' Cassien said and stepped into the man's swinging blade arc.

He fought them both at once, aware that Gabe and Florentyna had disappeared up the stairs safely. This pair was a better outfit. They were putting up a good fight; Cassien knew he must finish them fast. The sound of clanging swords would surely come to some sharp ear. He wanted to be gone from here.

‘Go around, Jof,' the head guard growled, parrying another blow.

He readied himself to perform a challenging move that he'd nicknamed ‘the crux'. Loup had approved. It required inordinate strength and he'd spent many moons perfecting it, developing the core power required to explode with energy in two opposing directions. It needed precision, so these cramped, low-roofed spaces, where he had to duck stone pillars and water, made it a less than ideal place. Now, the two men were both stepping back and circling him. He had no choice and the crux could kill two at once.

‘You are good,' the leader said, ‘but you are going to die. We'll find your companions. I know what he looks like; are you brothers, perhaps? The girl will follow him. We'll punish her properly.'

‘Well, then, I'll just have to kill you like the others,' Cassien shrugged, dropping his sword, leaving only one of the blades held ready. He centred. Focus!

Both men laughed, assuming it had been an accident the blade slipping from his sweaty hand. ‘Not like that you won't,' Jof baited.

They pounced as one, and in a fluid action that to an observer might have appeared to be a dance movement, Cassien crouched and drew his second short blade and using the power that his bent knees gave him, he thrust himself up and out, his arms and legs forming the crux shape.

It was a cruel, powerful, athletic move. Cassien's intensive training had prepared him better than any others to perform it and, despite all the conditions that said otherwise, he formed a low but perfect cross. His feet kicked out so hard and so perfectly positioned that both connected with the bellies of the rushing men, their swords held high, their bodies open to such punishment if the timing was exquisite … and it was.

They were both predictably winded by the blow to their guts, but the moment of agony was lost to a new sensation when their collapsing bodies brought them closer to Cassien's knives — he seemed to hold himself longer in the air than seemed possible. The vicious blades punched into the exposed throats of his two attackers.

Wet, gurgling sounds of death accompanied his soft, balanced landing. Cassien took a moment to draw breath, surveying his horrible work as he murmured the Prayer of Sending. He was not proud of it, but he nodded to himself, acknowledging that he had lived up to the promise of his training and to his duty as a member of the Brotherhood. He had kept his sovereign safe.

He wished six bodies were not around as clues for the demon, but the waters were not deep enough and he had no time to plan how to conceal them. Getting away cleanly had always been a wish, rather than a given. A last breath was heard being sucked in and expelled … the sixth died. Cassien was satisfied. They may be clues — but to what, the demon would not know.

Cassien took a few more moments to wash himself of the blood that he could feel spattered on his face and hands. He was glad of the dark clothes he wore — Fynch had chosen well, it seemed. He dampened his hair, running his hands through it to be sure no telltale blood spots had been trapped, before he tore a sleeve from the shirt of one of the fallen. Again he took the extra time to be meticulous in drying his face and hands. He cleaned the blades and returned them to their sheaths, all the while calming his breathing, his heartbeat. He must walk upstairs looking composed and hope the dead were not found until he and Florentyna were long gone. He took a few more moments to take the breeches, plain shirt and cloak from one of the dead men. Gabe would need them.

He was aware of the majesty of the cathedral as he stepped into its enormous space. Beautiful soft light filtered in through magnificent, huge windows of stained glass, with one immense, dominating rose-shaped window above the northern end of the nave. Cassien desperately wanted to linger, feeling the pull of this spiritual centre of Morgravia, but he could see a figure in grey at the entrance. She looked small in the distance and he could sense she was fearful and tense beneath the hood of her cloak; perhaps she was mindful that it was unusual in this place for a person to keep their hood up. He must hurry. But where was Gabe?

A new sensation began to crowd within him. Not a voice, yet it called to him. He felt suddenly helpless, began to walk, as if no longer in control of his actions. He walked dumbly, slowly, drawn down the nave to its centre, where aisles led off to meet other corridors that flanked the central nave.

He could see Gabe sitting in the pews, looking up at a pillar. Even from this distance, he could see which beast Gabe was staring at.

Cassien
, he now heard in his mind. The voice sounded as though it was coming from a long way off. It was a whisper, carried on the wind. He wasn't imagining it. It called only to him. And as he finally paused beneath the stone pillar that soared into the gods, he felt his heart give, and an outpouring of emotion flood his body. It weakened him, forced him to sit alongside Gabe and follow his line of sight to the great flying serpent … the king of all the beasts looked down upon them with a benevolent gaze.

Cassien
, he heard floating on his mind.
My son
.

He realised his mouth was gaping and he felt teary — something he hadn't experienced since childhood. Gabe turned to him, damp-eyed. ‘I … I don't understand. It called me by name. It compelled me to be here.'

Cassien squeezed Gabe's shoulder, handed him the clothes. ‘Compelled both of us. Do you understand the nature of the Pearlis Cathedral creatures? That one alone will single you out and call to you; that is your magical beast for life.'

Gabe shook his head. ‘So mine's the dragon?' he said innocently.

‘It can't be,' Cassien murmured, his breath coming sharply. He was confused, more frightened by this than by any number of swords being thrown at him.

‘It called to me, I tell you. It … it knew my name.'

Florentyna had obviously seen them and given up waiting. ‘New plan?' she asked, arching an eyebrow.

‘Forgive us,' Cassien said. ‘Get dressed, Gabe. You're too recognisable in Tentrell's clothes and this is something of a disguise. Hurry.'

‘What are you doing here?' Florentyna continued. ‘Admiring the scenery? Of course, this is the first time in the cathedral for both of you, isn't it? I can see how emotional this is for you, Gabe. It is for all of us the first time.' She smiled kindly. ‘Which beast called to you?' she asked, a slight wistfulness in her tone.

Cassien's breath caught. It didn't make sense but either way they couldn't admit the truth. ‘The, er … the winged lion is mine. Gabe's is the unicorn.' Gabe stared at him. ‘Isn't it?' he urged, hoping his companion saw the warning in his eyes.