The Iron Palace (35 page)

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Authors: Morgan Howell

BOOK: The Iron Palace
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“If we empty the wagons, the men could carry them down and up the gully. That will take time, but less than a detour.”

“Then do it.”

Wuulf called his sergeants over and told them his plan. Afterward, they immediately set their squads to work. First, the wagons were driven as close as possible to the obstacle. Then the horses were unhitched and led through the woods to cross at a place where the gully’s sides sloped gently. Meanwhile, the supply wagons were emptied and their contents carried to the far side of the gap. All this went smoothly until it was time to empty Moli’s wagon. Captain Wuulf sensed something was amiss when he saw the wagon driver walking up with the reluctant pace and fearful expression of one bearing bad news.

“Captain,” said the frightened man. “Captain.”

“What is it, soldier? Speak up.”

“She’s gone, sir! Lord Sha—Lord Bahl’s lady! I thought she was sleeping, but …”

“Have ye looked for her? She might be strolling about.”

“I did, sir, and I couldn’t find her.”

Captain Wuulf spotted a sergeant and called him over. “I want yer squad to make a quick search for our lordship’s lady. Before I tell Lord Bahl she’s missing, I want to be certain she is.”

The mere mention of Lord Bahl spurred the sergeant and his men into action. As Wuulf watched them hurry off, he reflected on the power of that name. He wondered if its fearsome reputation was the reason that Shadow seemed transformed, but he suspected a more arcane power was at work.
Something to do with the priest and his god
. Even thinking about it made him uneasy.
Shadow’s become less a man and more a monster. If his woman’s fled, I don’t blame her
.

A short while later, the sergeant reported back. “She’s
not here, sir. I think she ran off, for she piled clothing under her blanket to fool her driver.”

“Thank ye, Sergeant. Resume moving the wagons.”

Wuulf rode off to speak to Lord Bahl, who had remained mounted to better watch the soldiers work. The captain had a tight feeling in his gut, which became even stronger when he noted that the priest was with Bahl. Wuulf reined his horse to a stop, then bowed from the saddle. “My lord, I bring ill tidings. Yer lady has disappeared.”

“What! How?”

“I believe she’s taken leave.”

“Bring me her driver,” said Lord Bahl. “I wish to question him.”

Wuulf soon returned with the young soldier. When the pair arrived, they found Lord Bahl on foot. The captain quickly dismounted so as not to tower over his superior, who was smiling coldly as he approached the soldier. “I’m told you have some news for me.”

All the color left the soldier’s face. “She sleeps a lot, sir, I mean, yer lordship. I thought that’s what she was doing. Sleeping.”

“And?”

“So when it was time to unload the wagon, I went to wake her, and when I shook her covers … well, there was nothing under them. Only clothes and stuff. I looked for her. I really did. Hard, too. But she was gone.”

Captain Wuulf expected Lord Bahl to question the driver further, but he merely gazed into the man’s eyes. The soldier’s features and body became rigid, and remained that way until Bahl broke eye contact and smiled. “My woman has disappeared, but that’s her doing, not yours. You weren’t an accomplice.”

The soldier looked relieved until Bahl’s dagger pierced his belly. It happened so quickly that even Wuulf didn’t see the weapon being drawn. “Nevertheless,” said Bahl, his voice
seemingly calm, “you were careless, and those who serve me are held to a high standard.” Bahl’s expression matched his voice, as though he were giving the man a mild rebuke. “You didn’t meet that standard.” He twisted his blade before withdrawing it. Then he pointed to a nearby soldier. “You! Come here!” The man rushed over. By then, the driver was doubled over, clutching his bloody gut. Bahl turned to the newcomer. “Set this man by the roadside and let no one tend him while he dies. Fail in this, you’ll suffer as he does. Now go.”

Bahl turned to the captain. “I want her back.”

Wuulf felt that he might soon share the driver’s fate, and strangely, the prospect of death heightened his courage. He bowed low, then spoke. “I’ll get her if ye command. But first, my lord, consider this: Some lasses liken to wildflowers. They’re comely in a rough setting but soon wither when plucked from their roots. Moli won’t thrive in yer iron house. ’Twill kill her. She knew that, and so she left. Though I may fetch her, ye won’t have her—not for long. Recall yer tenderness toward Moli, and let her go so she might live.”

Wuulf gazed at Lord Bahl, half expecting to feel his blade. Instead, he saw tears welling in his commander’s eyes. The hardness was gone from them, and when his lordship spoke, his voice had thawed. “I’d never harm her.” He paused a moment, and his face grew sad. “Continue moving the wagons, Captain. I’ll let her go her way.”

As Captain Wuulf mounted and rode off, Stregg lifted his eyes from the dying soldier to gaze at Lord Bahl’s face. He was alarmed to see tears there. As evidence of sentiment, they betrayed a weakness that must be stemmed. He pondered a moment on which tactic to use. Then he spoke. “I think your captain is perceptive. The wench wasn’t suited for palace life. Ye acted wisely.”

Lord Bahl sighed heavily. “I guess so.”

“Yet I fear yer men will see weakness instead of wisdom,” said the priest. “Although ye were stern with the man, they’ll think ye let a wench flout ye.”

“It can’t be helped.”

“It might be better to grant her leave before everyone. Then her freedom would arise from yer generosity, not her disobedience.” Stregg paused a moment, as if considering his idea. “But of course, ye’d have to fetch her to do that.”

“It would serve her ill to drag her back.”

“More likely ’twould help her. I suspect she lacks provisions. Besides, ye could say proper farewells.”

“You’re right,” said Lord Bahl. “I’ll have the captain find her.”

“No need to do that, yer lordship. Using him will delay the march. I’ll speak with yer friend Telk. He can be trusted with the task. And I’ll ask another to aid him.”

“Thank you, Stregg. You’ve lightened my heart.”

The priest hurried off. Lord Bahl mounted his horse, and watched as his men struggled to lift the first of the wagons over the far edge of the gully.

There was still enough daylight left to resume the march when the wagons were moved and their teams hitched up. Captain Wuulf was making his final checks when one of his sergeants approached him. “Sir, I’ve two men who haven’t returned. Should I post a man to wait fer them?”

“Haven’t returned? Where did they go?”

“On some business fer his lordship. The priest sent them.”

“And who were the men?”

“Telk and Chopper.”

“Don’t post a man, Sergeant. I’ll look into this.” Upon saying that, Wuulf rode off to find Stregg. When he did, he reined his horse just short of trampling the man, and then glared down at him. “Before I tell Lord Bahl the march is delayed, I’d best know the reason why!”

Stregg looked up with an innocent expression. “Delayed?”

“Because ye sent two men somewhere. Why?”


I
didn’t send them anywhere. ’Twas Lord Bahl. He changed his mind about fetching the wench.”

“And ye asked Chopper to do it? The man’s a rabid dog.”

The priest maintained his innocent expression. “And how was I to know that?”

“Because ye’ve two eyes and mayhap a bit of brain. When did they leave?”

“A while ago.”

Wuulf spurred his horse down the road to find the two men. He considered Chopper a lunatic, but Telk was observant and accustomed to the wild, which potentially made him a good tracker. The men would be seeking Moli, and he was seeking them. Thus it seemed his best chance to find the men was to look for Moli. Since her wagon was at the rear of the march, her trail should be undisturbed. He rode slowly down the dusty road, gazing at its surface and the vegetation that flanked it. Toward the border of the woods he found something. It wasn’t Moli’s trail, but that of her pursuers. Since they had no reason for stealth, it was easy to follow. Wuulf dismounted and led his horse along a path marked by trampled undergrowth, broken twigs and branches, and the deep footprints left by hurrying men. He had traveled only a short way before he heard someone coming.

Soon a figure appeared among the trees. Wuulf recognized the man from his scarred nose and manic gaze. “Chopper! What are ye about?”

“The master’s business, Cap. She took it.”

As Chopper came nearer, Wuulf noticed a change in him. The man’s madness had blossomed. His face twitched, drool bathed his chin, and his eyes were bright and agitated. It made the captain wonder what Stregg had said or done to him. “What did she take?”

“Somethin’ the master wants. Somethin’ he needs back.”

“What are ye babbling about?”

Chopper reached into a pocket and pulled out a lump of bloody flesh. “Our master’s heart. Hid it in her chest, she did. But Ah chopped and chopped and chopped it out.” Chopper grinned broadly, but the smile didn’t reach his troubled eyes.

Wuulf gripped his sword hilt, but stayed his hand.
What’s the point?
he thought.
Lord Bahl will serve him worse
. Instead of slaying Chopper, he asked, “Where’s Telk?”

Chopper shrugged. “Back there.”

“Alive?”

Chopper shrugged again. “Master wants his heart.”

“Then ye should give it to him.”

Chopper ambled off as Wuulf mounted his horse. Following Chopper’s trail, the captain eventually encountered Telk. He was using his hands to dig in the loam while weeping. Moli lay nearby, her chest and face covered with a sky-blue cloak. “Telk?”

Telk didn’t look up; he just continued digging and sobbing. Wuulf dismounted and drew his sword. He walked over to the weeping man and began to use his blade to enlarge the hole. The two dug wordlessly together until the sky began to grow dark. By then, they had excavated a shallow grave and Telk had stopped crying. Finally, the captain broke the silence. “We should get her in the ground. They may come looking for us.”

“She didn’t deserve ta die like that.”

“Nay, she didn’t.”

“She loved him, and I think he loved her.”

“That’s why the black priest wanted her dead,” said Wuulf. “I see his game now. Ye shouldn’t go back. He’ll slay ye, too.”

“Why?”

“Because ye’re Shadow’s friend.”

“But where can I go?”

“Anywhere but back, if ye value yer soul. I can give ye a ride awhile, for I’m not returning.” Captain Wuulf gazed at his dirt-covered blade and reflected that digging was the only worthy use he had put it to for a long time. “I’m a hard man, Telk. But not so hard that I’ll serve Lord Bahl. For that’s what yer friend will be. Not just in name, but in spirit. The priest will see to that.”

“I don’t know if I can leave him.”

“I know he has a hold on ye. I can see it in yer eyes. Mayhap that hold will break when yer far enough away from him. Ride with me and find out. Think on it while we put yer friend’s love to rest.”

The two men dragged Moli to her shallow grave and covered her as best they could. Then they rode off together.

It took a while for Stregg to realize just how well things had turned out. Having engineered the wench’s slaying, he had anticipated Chopper’s return and execution. Though love had fueled Lord Bahl’s rage, it was rage nonetheless and therefore served the Devourer. The captain’s and Telk’s desertions were unexpected boons. Their departure saved the need for further plots. After just a single day, Stregg had managed to get the heir all to himself. On the long trip to Bahland, he would use that opportunity to become his lordship’s mentor. The priest smiled, seeing the prospect as a sign of the Devourer’s grace. It seemed but the first of many blessings to come.

FORTY-TWO

F
OR
H
ONUS
, the days of travel blended together until he lost count. Over time, the landscape altered, and mountains rose on the horizon. The trees began to shed their leaves as the days and nights turned cool and then cold. But these changes were significant to Honus only as far as they marked progress toward his destination. It was his entire focus; comfort, rest, and even food seemed of little importance. When he reached Averen, the terrain turned rugged, and on a stony mountain trail his mare slipped and broke her leg. The only way Honus could ease the horse’s suffering was by ending her life. He did it reluctantly with a single swipe of his sword and then continued onward.

Eventually, he was greeted by a sight that he hadn’t seen for eighteen winters, the Lake of the Urkzimdi. His path hugged the northwestern shore, and the lake stretched out before him, steel gray beneath an overcast sky. Low mountains formed a backdrop, their sides dark green with pine and spruce or gray and brown with leafless maple and winter oak. To the east lay fields, orchards, and in the distance, Cara’s hall. Honus noted some changes since he had seen it last. The village had enlarged, and the walls surrounding the manor house had sprouted a strange, stumpy tower. It appeared to have a tree growing from its top.

As Honus stared at the tower, he heard a voice behind him. “Greetings, Karmamatus. She’s na yet arrived.”

Honus turned and beheld a bizarre young girl. From her boyish frame, he judged her nine or ten winters old. A
length of vine was wrapped several times around her thin waist. It held long leaves that formed a sort of skirt, which barely met the needs of modesty. The vine and leaves were all she wore despite the chill weather. Stranger yet, she was soaking wet. Her long blond hair was plastered to her goose-pimpled skin. Nevertheless, her face was perfectly serene, showing no hint of discomfort.

“Who hasn’t arrived?” asked Honus, too surprised to say anything else.

“Mother.”

“Your mother?”

“Nay.” The girl smiled. “And yes.” Her moon-pale skin and sky-colored eyes seemed reminiscent of someone Honus had met, but at the moment, he couldn’t recall whom. Puzzled by the girl’s reply, Honus asked a question that might get a more straightforward answer. “Were you swimming in the lake?”

“Aye.”

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