The Long War 01 - The Black Guard (64 page)

They entered the underground complex and walked quickly through the now mostly empty basement. Healing supplies had been prepared and bandages and thread lay in baskets around the central room, but the place was otherwise bare.

Hasim and Bronwyn entered Horrock’s chamber behind Stone Dog and immediately heard the captain of Wraith Company talking in a quiet and gentle voice. He was cradling a Ranen cloud stone and there was a look of deep concern in his eyes.

‘Wait,’ he said, ‘I have some friends here now… try to stop crying, okay?’ Horrock rarely showed emotion and Bronwyn was taken aback by this display.

Stone Dog stood at the door as Horrock motioned for Bronwyn and Hasim to come and join him. As they sat down around the central wooden table, Bronwyn could hear the sound of a child crying. It sounded like a girl, and her sobs were quiet and indistinct when filtered through the cloud stone.

‘Hasim, I have a friend of yours here… and she says she’ll only talk to you,’ Horrock said, with a confused expression on his face. ‘My children are all grown up and I think I lack the gentle touch.’ He placed the stone on the table and said, ‘Al-Hasim is here.’

‘Al-Hasim,’ a child’s voice exclaimed excitedly through her tears.

‘Who is that?’ Hasim asked with narrowed eyes.

‘Ingrid Teardrop,’ was the reply, causing Hasim and Bronwyn to look at each other.

‘Ingrid, what are you doing?’ the Karesian asked gently. ‘How did you get hold of your father’s cloud stone?’

More tears could be heard from the stone and Bronwyn leant forward to see the hazy image of a young girl. She was black-haired and blue-eyed and had tears streaming down her face.

‘I don’t know what to do,’ she whimpered. ‘Tell me what to do. They’re hitting people with axes and I hid and I can’t find Alahan and I took the stone and I hid.’ The words tumbled out one after the other.

‘Ingrid,’ snapped Hasim, ‘calm down. I need you to tell me what’s happened. Breathe deeply and start again. Can you do that for me?’

Bronwyn was impressed with the way Hasim dealt with the young Ranen girl.

Algenon Teardrop’s daughter paused and sniffed loudly several times, rubbing the tears from her eyes with the sleeve of her blue tunic.

‘Father left a few weeks ago in his ship. He had lots and lots of men with him and they were going to rescue Uncle Magnus. I overheard them talking, they didn’t think I was listening, but I was and I heard them.’

Horrock leant back. Bronwyn guessed he was pleased to hear the news of Algenon’s launch, but concerned about what was happening in Fredericksand.

‘Okay, then what happened?’ Hasim asked gently.

Ingrid starting crying again as she said, ‘Then the men from Jarvik turned up yesterday and started hurting people and they broke into the hall and smashed father’s chair and they were looking for me, but they couldn’t find me so they burnt down our house and started chanting things about a new high thain.’ Again, the words were jumbled and Hasim shook his head trying to make sense of the child’s speech.

‘Men from Jarvik, what are they playing at?’ Horrock directed the question at no one in particular and was growing more and more concerned with each passing moment.

‘Ingrid, you’re okay, I won’t let them hurt you,’ said Hasim with sincerity, ‘but you need to focus. Imagine you’re a thainess and Fredericksand is your city. Okay?’

Ingrid nodded and stopped crying momentarily, her big blue eyes pleading for Hasim to help her.

The Karesian picked up the cloud stone and tried to smile. ‘What happened to your father?’

Ingrid was fighting back tears and she looked away, biting her lip and sniffing again.

‘The big man that kicked over his chair was shouting about father being at the bottom of the Kraken sea. It’s not true, is it? It can’t be true. Father is the strongest man in the world and nothing can kill him.’ Her words were at the very edge of despair and she desperately wanted someone to tell her that her father was alive and well.

Hasim, Bronwyn and Horrock shared dark looks across the table, but none of them said anything. Bronwyn could tell that Horrock was fighting back his anger and Hasim was close to tears himself as he spoke to Ingrid again.

‘Where are you right at this moment, little wolf?’ Hasim asked.

‘I’m hiding in the monster man’s chapel. I don’t think the men with axes will look for me here. I need to find Alahan, he’ll know what to do.’ She was a little calmer now she had Hasim to talk to, but she was still not the ideal conveyer of dark news from Fjorlan.

‘Monster man?’ queried Horrock.

‘It’s what she calls Samson the Liar,’ Hasim replied, not taking his eyes from the cloud stone, ‘the old-blood of Fredericksand; she was always fascinated by him.’

Bronwyn knew of old-bloods – those who had the blood of Giants – but she had never seen one. They were supposedly extinct in Tor Funweir, though stories occasionally surfaced of strange, semi-human beings hiding in caves or high up in mountain passes.

‘Do you know who the big man was?’ Hasim asked Ingrid. ‘The man who said your father was… dead.’ He said the last would in a low whisper, trying to not make Ingrid cry any more.

‘Yes, I saw him with father before the ships left. He’s called Rulag Ursa. I think he’s a battle-master or something but Wulfrick and Halla thought he was an idiot. He was mean about you too. He said you were just a spy but I stuck up for you.’

Hasim flashed a weary smile at her. ‘I’m lucky to have friends like you, little wolf.’ He was concentrating hard on the cloud stone and Bronwyn could see he was struggling hard to think what to say to the girl.

‘If Algenon’s dead…’ began Horrock, ‘I don’t want to think about what happened to the dragon fleet in the Kraken sea. Ursa would have had to kill thousands of men to get to the high thain.’ He was speaking quietly and mostly to himself, keeping the words from Ingrid’s ears.

‘Ingrid, do you know what happened to Wulfrick?’ Horrock asked.

‘He left with Father on board the
Hammer of Fjorlan
. He wouldn’t let them hurt Father, would he?’

A noise startled the young Ranen girl and she turned away from Hasim. ‘Someone’s coming. I can hear them on the stairs.’ She was clearly frightened.

‘Ingrid, stay quiet and find somewhere to hide,’ Hasim ordered with authority in his voice.

Then a loud noise and, in the flowing mists around the image of Ingrid Teardrop, Bronwyn could see a huge figure move past her, holding an oversized hammer. Ingrid moved to stand behind the huge being, who put a protective arm around her.

‘Samson, keep her safe,’ shouted Hasim, recognizing the figure of Samson the Liar.

The images became even more blurred as other men entered the chapel and started to attack Samson. They could hear Ingrid screaming and she dropped the cloud stone at her feet and huddled in the corner. The view they were afforded was of the old-blood roaring and smashing his hammer into the traitorous battle-brothers of Jarvik.

Then darkness, as a stray axe blow smashed the cloud stone and cut off their view.

Hasim roared and threw the table across the room, breaking it against the wall. ‘I’ll feed the bastards to a fucking troll,’ he shouted. ‘She’s just a child.’ He was addressing the now silent cloud stone, wishing his words to be heard by the axe-men who pursued Ingrid. ‘This is not honour… what is Rowanoco for if not for honour, you treacherous cunts.’

Horrock stood and grabbed hold of Hasim. The captain of Wraith Company was several inches taller than the Karesian and he held him firmly by the shoulders.

‘Get a hold of yourself, Hasim, or I’ll throw
you
against the wall,’ he said with customary calmness.

Hasim was breathing heavily and his eyes were filled with rage, but he slowly slumped and just stared at Horrock.

‘We’re in trouble, captain,’ he said quietly.

Both men sat down and Bronwyn saw a variety of expressions flow across their faces. Hasim’s was still a mask of anger, but he was also deep in thought. Horrock’s piercing eyes shot from side to side as if considering his options. Bronwyn herself was trying not to give in to despair. If the dragon fleet had been lost, her homeland would remain in the hands of the knights, and Ro Hail could not be held. The last few weeks had been filled with half-whispered hope that the Fjorlanders would come south and expel the knights from the Freelands of Ranen. It had happened once before, long ago, when the Ro had last tried to subjugate the Ranen. The men of Fjorlan were brutal and fearsome in battle, more warrior-like than the common men of the Free Companies, and even Horrock looked to them as their last hope for victory.

‘How long until Johan Long Shadow gets here with Scarlet Company?’ asked Hasim, after several minutes of silence.

‘He said they’d leave just after I spoke to him… that was four days ago. If they ride hard, it’ll still take a week to get here.’ Horrock shrugged. ‘If we can’t count on help from Fjorlan…’

‘We’re fucked,’ supplied Hasim, unhelpfully.

‘We are, as you so eloquently say, fucked,’ Horrock agreed. ‘Either Rulag Ursa has gone mad or he is more power hungry than I thought. Not content with stealing the rulership of Jarvik, the bastard’s getting delusions of grandeur.’

‘Ursa used to be a friend of Hallam Pevain, didn’t he?’ asked Hasim.

Horrock nodded. ‘Still is, as far as I know. Pevain helped him secure Jarvik, and they share a similarly lax attitude to honour.’

Bronwyn sensed that Horrock and Hasim were of the impression that a plot was being played out behind the scenes – a plot that had led to Algenon Teardrop’s death and would soon lead to the sacking of Ro Hail.

Horrock started nodding to himself, as if he’d decided on a course of action. ‘Okay, we leave,’ he said. ‘We can pack up food and provisions and be out of this death trap by nightfall. We’ll head east and join up with Johan and Scarlet Company.’

* * *

Time moved at an agonizingly slow pace as the people of Wraith Company feverishly gathered their belongings and loaded carts with food and supplies. Word of Algenon’s death and the presumed loss of the dragon fleet spread quickly through the city and Bronwyn detected a definite change in the demeanour of the Ranen. Before, they had stubbornly held on to the belief that if they could hold Ro Hail for a day or two, help would come, first from Scarlet Company, then from the north, and the knights of the Red could be pushed back. As she looked over their faces now, she saw men and women fearful for their lives in the knowledge that they simply couldn’t win.

Haffen still wanted to stay and he didn’t join the others in packing for a swift retreat. Instead, he stayed at his position on the forward battlements, keeping a silent vigil out towards the Grass Sea. Horrock assured them that Haffen would be at the front of the retreating company and simply needed time to come round to the idea of running away rather than fighting. These were tough people, and Bronwyn could see that none of them liked the situation, where fighting was simply not an option. The Free Companies could not hope to match the armies of Tor Funweir when it came to skill, equipment or tactics, but they had always had an indomitable spirit that made them fearsome in combat. As the people of Wraith Company said goodbye to their home, the hardest thing of all was the realization that they would probably never return. Aside from the two hundred and fifty warriors, Wraith Company numbered some four hundred men, women and children who were not fighters, who were undertaking most of the preparations for the evacuation of Ro Hail.

Hasim had been quiet most of the day, confining himself to assisting by loading carts and weaponry for the long journey east. Whenever Bronwyn had seen him he’d looked close to tears, and she guessed that the probable death of Ingrid Teardrop was affecting him. The roguish Karesian had often spoken of his fondness for Fredericksand and his respect for the house of Teardrop, whether it was his friend Magnus, the high thain Algenon, or the children. The young warrior Alahan and the spirited Ingrid were like family to him. He was unique among Karesians in that he didn’t seem to mind the weather in the far north and preferred the food and drink of Fjorlan to that of his desert homeland.

As evening fast approached, Bronwyn found herself with Stone Dog and Freya helping an old man of Wraith to climb the steps out of the basement.

‘I’ve lived here all my life,’ the old man muttered as he saw the darkening sky. ‘If I were a few years younger, I’d show those damnable knights a thing or two about Wraith Company.’

‘And they’d run, shrieking in terror, I’m sure,’ quipped Stone Dog, as he held the man’s arms and ushered him towards an empty wooden cart in the central courtyard.

Next to it were several dozen other carts loaded with all manner of belongings and supplies. Ro Hail may have been a ruin, but it had also been home to several hundred people, and Bronwyn felt sad looking at the piles of items of personal significance. She saw a mud-stained toy bear sitting in a basket next to an old flute and a dirty rocking horse. Another cart contained tables and chairs taken from the underground rooms, and a third was full to bursting with clothing and linen.

Plenty of carts already had drivers and it looked as if the population would be ready to leave by nightfall. They clustered in small family groups around their carts, and while most were unhappy to be leaving their home, Bronwyn could sense a community spirit that enabled them to remain upbeat as they wrapped up warm and prepared to strike out towards the realm of Scarlet Company.

Nearer the central courtyard, waiting by the gate, were the warriors of Wraith. All were attired in chain mail and heavily armed with axes, hammers and short bows for hunting. There was little talk amongst them, save for occasional jokes about the knights of the Red and vaguely formed plans to defecate in the courtyard as a welcoming gift to the Ro.

Haffen still stood on the battlements above the gatehouse, though he was now little but a shadow in the twilight. His back was facing the courtyard and Horrock had told them he’d keep watch until the last possible moment. Bronwyn thought that time was rapidly approaching, and she saw Hasim mounting the steps towards Haffen.