The Frostwoven Crown (Book 4) (44 page)

Garrett looked to Annalien in surprise, but the pale blue ghost only stared back at him in wonder for a moment before she too fell to her knees.

“My Lord,” she said, lifting her missing hands to him, “I pledge my service to you for as long as I may tarry here.”

Garrett looked to the fairy standing beside her on the floor.

Shortgrass stared at Ymowyn and Annalien with an expression of utter astonishment. He glanced at Garrett then as he gestured toward the two women. “Yer not expectin’ me ta…” he began, and then ran his hand through his coppery hair and sighed, “Oh, why tha hell not?”

With a florid bow, the little fairy tilted his wings toward Garrett and cried out, “Long live tha King!”

Garrett found the injured ghouls lying on palettes in Warren’s living room beside the hearth. He winced in shame to see the bandages wrapped around Warren’s massive chest, but, most of all, his heart broke to see the padded bindings around Scupp’s head.

“Back for another round, eh?” Warren chuckled, a bit wheezily as he looked up at Garrett’s entry, hastily concealing something that looked like a ball of yarn beneath his tattered blanket.

“I’m sorry,” Garrett said, shaking his head, “I’m really sorry.”

“I’m fine,” Warren scoffed, “You hit like a little baby.”

“A baby that gave you three cracked ribs,” Ymowyn muttered as she entered behind Garrett, hanging her cloak beside the door.

Garrett rubbed his hand over his forehead, still unable to believe that he had hurt his friends. He had only faint, blurry memories of incoherent rage, but the sight of Scupp, lying unconscious on the floor, was a brutal reminder of his loss of control.

“How is she?” Garrett asked, crossing the floor to stand beside the palette where the young ghoul lay.

Diggs, who was kneeling beside his sister, cradling her paw in his own, looked up at Garrett with an expression of weary sorrow. “I don’t know if she’s gonna make it,” he whispered hoarsely. His eyes fell again to his sister as she lay, rasping for breath. “Hang in there, Scupp,” he sobbed, “Hang in there.”

Garrett fell to his knees beside her and put his hand on her arm. “I’m so sorry!” he cried, “I’m sorry, Scupp! I’m so sorry!”

Suddenly Scupp’s unbandaged eye popped open, and she rolled over to drive a solid knuckle punch into Garrett’s shoulder.

Garrett fell over backwards, writhing in pain.

“
Dammit, Scupp!
” Garrett howled, clutching at his bruised shoulder as the she-ghoul crouched over him, grinning wickedly.

Warren and Diggs rolled on the floor, hooting with laughter.

“
Now
, we’re even!” Scupp laughed. Then she reached down and grabbed Garrett by the collar, hauling him to his feet. She licked his face and grinned again. “Good to have you back, Gar,” she said.

“I’m sorry, Scupp,” he said, ignoring the pain in his shoulder as he hugged her tightly.

“Are you all right?” she asked, pushing him to arm’s length and looking him up and down.

“I think you broke my arm,” he whined.

“Don’t be such a pup about it,” she chided, “I hit Diggs way harder than that, and he’s still alive. I mean
are you all right?
”

“Yeah, I am now,” Garrett sighed, looking toward Lady Ymowyn. Something had changed in the way she looked at him, like she expected him to be more than he was ready to be.

“What’s wrong with him, Ym?” Warren asked, his smile gone.

“We need to talk about this,” she said, her eyes still on Garrett, “This isn’t something that we are going to be able to hide anymore. Other parties are involved now, and things are going to change.”

“Other parties?” Warren asked, “You mean enemies?”

She nodded. “And new friends as well,” she said.

“So Anna Gree knew what this was about?” Warren asked.

“Yes,” Ymowyn said, “She proved… most helpful.”

Warren seemed perplexed by her answer, but looked too weary to pursue it further. “Good,” he said, “I’m glad you’re better, Gar… but you think somethin’ like this might happen again?”

“No!” Garrett said, a bit louder than he had intended, “I’m never gonna let this happen again!”

Warren looked at him reassuringly and then cast a cautious glance toward Ymowyn.

“I think we’re past the worst of it,” Ymowyn said.

“Good,” Bargas muttered as he shouldered open the broken front door, carrying a heaping platter of steaming pies in his hands, “because, if this happens again, I’m callin’ Raik in on it.”

“No!” Ymowyn gasped, “Bargas, you can’t let him know what happened!”

“Uncle Raik can help?” Warren asked.

Something unspoken seemed to pass between the elder ghoul and the fox woman. Ymowyn’s pleading look must have convinced him to let it drop, for he simply sighed and said, “Time to eat.”

“Yes!” Diggs yelped, already headed for the platter of pies.

Bargas snarled him into a tail-tucked cower a moment later.

“These are for the injured, whelp!” he growled, “Go get your own food!”

“Yessir,” Diggs said, lowering his ears against his head as he ducked past Bargas on the way out the door.

“Thanks, Mister Bargas,” Scupp said, taking a pie from the plate with a grateful smile.

“You get better, girl,” he grumbled, letting his son have a grab at the platter next.

“Thanks dad,” Warren said, stuffing a pie in his mouth before reaching for another.

“I’m sorry, Mister Bargas,” Garrett said, his eyes on the floor.

Warren groaned through a mouthful of meat as his father pulled the platter away and passed the rest to Scupp.

Bargas stepped over to stand before Garrett, towering above him and looking down as if trying to decide the boy’s fate.

Garrett looked up at the huge ghoul, not a little afraid. Garrett had brought danger into Bargas’s house. He had nearly killed the ghoul’s only son.

Bargas sighed again at last and reached out to pull Garrett close, burying Garrett’s face in the moldy gray fur of his chest. “We’re family, boy,” Bargas croaked, “You done nothin’ I can’t forgive.”

Garrett sniffed back tears, clinging to Bargas like a little boy.

Bargas patted him gently on the head and stepped away, shaking his head. “Damn fool thing to do, boy,” he sighed, “Damn fool thing to do.”

“You think he should stay with us, dad?” Warren asked.

Bargas nodded. “Least ‘till we sort this out,” he said.

Garrett’s heart fluttered with fear. “What time is it?” he gasped, “How long was I out?”

Warren and Scupp shared a worried look but said nothing.

Garrett looked at Ymowyn in desperation. “I’ve gotta get to Logate!” he cried, “I’m late for Templar duty!”

Ymowyn shook her head. “Garrett, that was yesterday,” she said.

“Oh, cramps!” he groaned, “They're gonna flog me again… or worse.”

Lady Ymowyn’s eyes flared, and her back stiffened.

“I gotta go,” Garrett said, shaking his head with worry, “I gotta run home and get changed… no, I better go straight there! I gotta tell ‘em something… maybe there’s like a
one free foul up
rule or something… probably not.” He looked around in desperation, trying to think of what excuse he could possibly give for missing his entire second night of Templar duty.

Ymowyn strode forward, her bushy tail lashing behind her, and slapped Garrett hard across the cheek.

“Ym!” Warren cried.

Garrett stared back at the fox woman who regarded him with blazing green eyes.

“
No!
” she said, her voice shaking with emotion, “you are the Songreaver, the Kingslayer, wielder of ancient power, and heir to a great destiny! Do not ever,
ever
forget yourself again!”

Garrett forgot to breathe. He simply blinked at her with his lips hanging open.

“You are not some stable boy to be whipped at your master’s whim! You are my
king!
” she hissed, “How dare you fear them? How
dare
you fear them?”

Garrett’s eyes fell as he considered her words.

Warren got to his feet, pressing one paw to his bandaged ribs as he limped over to put his arm around the trembling fox woman. Garrett looked up to see the question in his oldest friend’s eyes.

A feeling of peace came over Garrett, and he nodded, rubbing absently at the place where Ymowyn had slapped him. He realized then that he wasn’t afraid of them anymore. The only thing he feared now was the danger of forgetting himself and becoming again the thing that had hurt his friends.

“Thank you,” he said to Ymowyn.

She looked suddenly ashamed, her eyes falling as she leaned against Warren for support.

“I won’t forget again,” Garrett said, “not ever.”

Garrett turned to the others. “Thank you all,” he said, “We’ll need to talk when I get back. I hope you’re all feeling better by then.”

“Where’re you goin’?” Warren asked, raising his free paw questioningly.

“I have to go turn in my Templar stuff,” he said, “It’s time I grew up and took some responsibility for what I’ve done… and what I’ve got to do.”

“What’re you gonna do, boy?” Bargas asked.

“I guess I gotta learn how to be a good king,” he chuckled.

*******

Garrett carried his green tabard neatly folded in his hands as he approached the station at Logate. He wore his necromancer's robe and medallion instead, hoping to make his divided loyalties more apparent. A growing sense of unease filled his mind as he sighted a green carriage parked outside the guardhouse, but he could not turn back now. He would deliver his apology and resignation to Captain Gaulve before heading to the temple to explain things to Serepheni and Brix.

Several Templars were chatting together outside the station house as Garrett walked up. They noticed his approach and fell silent, exchanging dark looks with one another.

"Turtle!" Peach hissed, his eyes wild as he trotted toward Garrett, waving his hands back and forth, "You better get outta here!"

"I have to talk to the Captain about last night," Garrett said.

"Just
run
, Turtle," Peach moaned, "Just get outta town while you can and don't ever come back."

Garrett squinted at him, trying to make sense of the young man's panic.

Just then, Captain Gaulve stepped out of the station house into the street, looking somewhat startled to find Garrett standing there.

"Captain..." Garrett started to say, but his words died on his lips when he saw Matron Shelbie emerge from the building just behind the Templar captain.

She stared at him, boggle-eyed for a moment, then she began sputtering incoherently, pointing her finger at him for several seconds before she was able to spit out, "
Seize him!
"

Peach closed his eyes in defeat as the other Templars rushed forward to surround Garrett in the street. Passersby scattered, frightened as the Templars pulled their maces from their belts and stood ready to attack.

"You're under arrest, boy," Captain Gaulve said with a weary look in his eye.

"Give me a chance to explain!" Garrett cried.

Matron Shelbie started sputtering with rage again, but Gaulve continued.

"You'll have a chance to explain your actions at the temple, boy," the captain sighed, "Now make it easier on yourself and come along quietly."

"I just missed one day," Garrett said, "I know I messed up, but I'm willing to take the punishment."

"This goes way beyond that, boy," Gaulve said, "Now hand over your weapon and come with us."

"My weapon?" Garrett said, "Oh..." he looked down at Cenick's old jungle knife on his belt. He pulled it from its scabbard and handed it, pommel-first to Peach.

Snuff was standing next to Peach and snatched the blade from his hand, eying it with a yellow-toothed grin on his face. "Neshite blade," he said, passing it to the captain.

Gaulve glanced at it before offering it to Matron Shelbie.

She stared down at it as if it were something diseased. "I told you!" she hissed, "Take this little
spy
to the temple!"

Garrett looked at her with a feeling of distant contempt. He didn't even consider her worthy of his hate anymore. He handed his tabard to Peach and nodded his farewell as Snuff stripped the satchel from Garrett's shoulder and pushed him off in the direction of the Upper City. The captain gestured for Hawk, Snuff, and several other Templars to fall in as Garrett's escort.

Garrett cast one last glance at Matron Shelbie as she climbed back into her carriage to depart. She gave him a triumphant sneer, and then called for her coachman to take her back to the temple.

"What's this about, Captain," Garrett asked as they turned up a quiet lane, heading north.

Snuff whipped his cudgel across Garrett's shoulder, staggering him. "Keep yer mouth shut, spy!"