Scrivener's Tale (68 page)

‘You've made me proud. You have one more confrontation to face. Think of Cyricus as Loup. He can be bested if your mind remains strong. And you are the one who can rid the empire of his blight. Trust Gabe. Trust Ham. Trust me. Above all, trust yourself and what's in here,' he said, touching his son's chest above his heart.

Florentyna glanced around in time to see Fynch pull Cassien's face down and kiss him on each cheek, lingering on both.

‘I have loved you from afar and now I've had the opportunity to love you up close, Cassien. Thank you for forgiving me my secrets and your isolation.' He looked over at Romaine. ‘Stick to the forest for as long as possible. She will protect you. Do not roam. Don't even be tempted. Not yet, or you will give yourself away.'

Again Cassien nodded. He pulled Fynch into a bear hug. ‘I will see you again,' he said, his voice tight, ‘when this is done.'

‘Shar willing,' Fynch said. ‘Now go, you two. Be safe.'

As they rode away with heavy hearts, Romaine flanking them, Cassien gave a deep sound of anguish. ‘He's lying.'

‘Why do you say that?' Florentyna said, although she didn't add that she agreed with him.

‘Because he's dying, your majesty. He was dying when he first showed himself to me. It's why he collapsed the last time he and I were together. He seemed rejuvenated when he met us at the mouth of the forest, but just in the course of these past hours he has become frail. I don't think he can leave the forest, I don't think he should ever have left the Wild.' He gave a sad laugh. ‘Let's be honest here. We are talking about someone who is centuries old. It has to be the Wild's magic that sustains him. When he's beyond it, maybe it cannot keep him alive.'

‘He can go back, he can —'

‘No. I don't believe he can,' Cassien said, thinking it through as they walked the horses away from Fynch. ‘It's why he's released Romaine to me. It's why he told us to leave the forest. He doesn't want me to suffer his death.'

Hamelyn and King Tamas had ridden through the day, preserving their horses as best they could. When Tamas sensed the horses could not carry them further, he paid for a new pair at Tooley Marsh, northwest of the capital.

‘It's not really a marsh. Hasn't been one for centuries, ‘specially not since the river dried up,' the stableman said, as he looked over their horses. ‘Yes, they've done enough. I'll fetch a couple of fresh ones. You can pay Master Flegon over at the inn. It's where you'll find him at this time.'

They paid Flegon, whom they'd found gambling in a corner of the inn over a game of racks. He didn't seem to be winning and Tamas was certain that the coin he was handing over for the horses would go down on the table for the particularly chaotic and probably dishonest game of dice.

‘You'd better check for drops of mercury in those cubes, Master Flegon,' Tamas warned. ‘Won't be the first time a man's lost his fortune over loaded dice.'

Flegon's opponent glared at Tamas. ‘Which wind blew you in, matey?' he demanded, casting a glance at Ham. ‘You all right, son, or is he planning to buy a room and give you a thorough going over?' He laughed cruelly. Tamas cleared his throat, nodded at Ham for them to be on their way. The men's laughter followed them.

‘Cut some meat from the haunch,' Tamas ordered a woman working behind the inn's counter, ‘pack it with bread, some cheese if you have it.' He looked back at the men playing.

‘Could you add some chutney too, please?' Ham asked politely, with a disarming grin and the young woman smiled at him.

‘Well, someone has good manners,' she said, cutting Tamas a sharp look.

The king glanced at Ham with an expression of confused innocence. When her back was turned Ham gave a shrug.

‘You can't treat every stranger like a servant, your majesty,' he whispered. ‘In here, and dressed the way you are, you're simply another well-heeled traveller.'

Tamas nodded. ‘Sage advice, Ham.'

The woman had given their order to a younger girl, who scurried back into the kitchen. ‘Anything else?'

‘What is your name?' Tamas asked.

‘Arly,' she replied, sounding guarded.

‘Well, Arly, forgive my brusqueness. I just don't like cheats much.' He looked over his shoulder toward the men playing dice. ‘We'd like two ales, please, and his should be a small watered one,' he said, thumbing at Ham, who remained silent.

‘Don't let him get you drunk, boy!' the man, clearly still resentful of the king's warning to Flegon, yelled across the tavern.

Arly sighed. ‘Take no notice of him.'

‘I'm not,' Tamas said, grinning fiercely. Ham noticed that Arly had warmed quickly to the king's charm. There was no doubting that women found him attractive. ‘He's fleecing the stable owner,' Tamas continued.

She shook her head gently in frustration. ‘Flegon's been fleeced for years. We've watched him lose money so often he's like a piece of the furniture in here. He doesn't seem to care … not since his family died of the green fever. All of them, sir. Five healthy sons and a wife he was true to. He's a broken man, but he was once a good man in the community.'

Tamas sighed. ‘Pity. Here, take a tankard of ale over to him from me.' He tossed an extra coin onto the counter.

Arly smiled. ‘I'll do that. Here's your food,' she said as the younger girl set a small linen bundle on the counter.

Hamelyn hadn't realised how famished he was. His belly rumbled at the smell of the roasted meat wafting from the package.

‘Drink this,' Tamas said, handing over the small tankard.

‘I don't —'

‘Drink it. You need its sustenance. We'll eat as we ride.'

Ham swallowed it down as instructed, his eyes watching as Tamas downed his own tankard, twice the size and twice as potent. The king smacked his lips, but not with pleasure. He gave a small belch. ‘Done?'

Ham tipped the bitter-tasting dregs into his mouth and thanked Arly again. The king simply smiled at her.

‘Safe travels,' she called to their backs.

‘Here,' Tamas said, handing him the largest share of bread and tearing off a hunk of the meat. ‘Get this down you.'

‘I don't eat that much, ki— er, sir.'

Tamas smiled. ‘A growing lad needs a lot more than you think. Eat.' He pushed the food into Ham's hands once he'd saddled up.

They chewed silently, walking the horses out of the village and back onto the main road north.

‘Better?'

‘Much,' Ham replied. ‘You?'

‘Food isn't going to help the pain inside.'

Ham was glad they'd finally touched on the topic that had moved like an uncomfortable, awkward beast around them. Their fast ride had prevented conversation, but it hadn't taken away the ugly image.

‘It was necessary,' Ham offered.

‘And still you were shocked, surely.'

‘By its swift brutality, yes,' he admitted. ‘Also by your courage, sire.'

‘It was easier to watch Darcelle's body being dragged behind a horse than to see her being moved like a grotesque puppet by the demon.'

‘It was a breathtaking shot, your majesty.'

Tamas gave a mirthless bark of a laugh. ‘My best ever, I'd say. Pity I pulled it out for the execution of my betrothed and not for the Ciprean Finals in the Contest of the Realms,' he moaned, trying to make it sound light, but it came out grief-stricken.

‘King Tamas, you have likely killed the demon and his partner. You've saved countless lives and the realms. Empress Florentyna will forgive you. She knows her sister was lost.'

‘Are you sure she will? I keep imagining that she held hopes that Darcelle might re-emerge as Gabe did.'

Ham shook his head. ‘I think the queen saw in Gabe and Cassien what I did.'

‘That they're brothers?'

‘Ah, you think so too,' Ham replied.

The king nodded. ‘The resemblance is strong. I didn't realise I'd noticed until you mentioned their likeness, and then it made such sense. I'd probably been thinking the same the whole time we were in the chapel.'

‘I think there's more, King Tamas.'

Tamas frowned. ‘More to them?'

‘In a way. I think there are three brothers.'

‘Three? Why would you think that? Do you know him?'

‘I know him well. He is myself.'

King Tamas was chewing but he stopped mid-mouthful. He blinked and swallowed. ‘You?'

Ham nodded. ‘I think so. I could be wrong but I doubt it. There are too many signs. I won't bore you, sire. But I have a happy knack for being able to carry a lot of information around in my mind and bring it right upfront,' he said, tapping his forehead, ‘at the oddest times. I've made the connection. I know I'm not wrong.'

‘How can it be?'

‘Magic has its part to play. But I suspect we each have our role in this fight.'

‘Yours?'

Ham shrugged. ‘I'm yet to learn.'

‘This strangeness we're involved in just gets more tangled,' the king moaned. ‘Shall we ride?' he challenged.

‘After you, sire.'

Tamas tossed away the tiny knuckle of bread in his hand, slapped the reins against the flank of his horse and growled a whoop that kicked it into action. Soon they were galloping over a path that cut through the heath of the mainly deserted region of the northwest. They rode without exchanging words until the horses began to flag. Tamas gradually slowed until his beast was blowing hard but down to a measured trot. Ham had done the same, and now brought his horse alongside Tamas.

‘We've made good ground,' he said, dragging in deep breaths. ‘I saw a marker for Rittylworth about a mile back. We're just three miles east of it now. We should be there by dusk.'

‘Excellent,' Tamas said. ‘The horses couldn't have maintained that pace for much longer. We'll just cool them down and keep up the trot. They'll need some watering, but I can see a stream ahead so we'll stop when we can.'

They trotted on. ‘I've been thinking, sire,' Ham said, finally deciding to air something that had been nagging him since they left the killing fields.

‘Yes?'

‘Well, you know how a thought skims around the back of your mind? It's there and it's irritating but you can't fully grab it?'

‘Of course, it's like when you have a name on the tip of your tongue. But you just can't say it. It's frustrating.'

‘That's it! And you just have to be patient until it comes back.'

The king grinned. ‘And?'

‘Well, sire, this thought was just out of my reach but I knew to let it sit, to wait for it to get bored of teasing me and that it would finally come into my mind fully.'

‘You've a wise head on a young body, Ham. Go on. What's this notion of yours?'

‘It concerns your man, Wentzl, sire.'

‘Captain Wentzl? He's a good man. He stood up to the demon well enough from what we could tell.'

‘Yes, here's the thing, sire. I think Wentzl was one of the men I glimpsed who headed in our direction. I didn't register that at first. It's taken me a while to realise I recognised someone and that it was him.'

‘Really?'

‘You seem delighted.'

‘Why wouldn't I be? A fellow Ciprean and all that?'

‘But why would he follow?'

Tamas chuckled. ‘I'll tell you why, Hamelyn, and I'm thrilled your sharp eyes picked up that information. I'm feeling better for knowing that he didn't head to the ship with the rest of the men.'

Ham waited, uncertain.

‘You see, only a Ciprean would have known who shot that arrow. And Captain Wentzl would have not only recognised the fletching, he would have known that shot could only have been made by me.'

‘Ah,' Ham said, understanding. It also explained why Wentzl would have stuck with the Morgravians rather than the Ciprean soldiers.

‘Excellent, that means Wentzl — who is a brilliant tracker by the way and too loyal for his own good — can follow me. If we can rid ourselves of the Morgravian legionnaires, then Wentzl can help.' The king surprised Ham by removing his white kerchief. He took the blade from the holder that sat neatly on the side of his leg and without pausing dug its tip into his forefinger. He wrote
Rittyl
in blood onto the kerchief and without saying a word tied it around the highest branch he could reach by standing up in the saddle. ‘Old Ciprean trick,' he said, tapping his nose. ‘Wentzl will see it.'

‘Are you sure that's wise, your majesty?' Ham asked evenly.

‘Wise? We'll go to Rittylworth, hopefully meet up with your companion, Cassien, and Empress Florentyna. Take a slow breath and congratulate ourselves on having rid the land of the evil that was threatening it and —'

‘It's just that telling you that Captain Wentzl is following us is not the thought that's been nagging me, your majesty.'

Tamas had blinked at Ham's interruption, but now frowned. ‘What else do you have to say, then?' he said, his tone tighter than previously.

Ham swallowed, feeling uncertain that he should share it.

‘Come on, Ham. You can't stop a man mid-sentence with what is clearly an unpleasant idea and then leave him sweating. What is troubling you, boy?'

‘I'll say exactly what I'm thinking, majesty, because I don't know how to make this sound in any way easier for you to hear.'

Tamas gave him a look of sheer exasperation. ‘Say it!'

‘I'm deeply troubled that Captain Wentzl is not who he might appear, sire.'

Tamas stared at him, confused for a few moments. Then his expression relaxed into dismay, and then changed to despair. ‘You can't be serious.'

‘I'm not very adept at jests, your majesty.'

‘What makes you say such a thing, Ham?' Tamas said, his voice raspy with anguish. ‘I didn't see …'