The Long War 01 - The Black Guard (73 page)

Halla stepped away from the knight and turned to address Brother Jakan as he glared at Wulfrick.

‘If I see anyone leaving this camp while we are in the city, the king loses a hand. If you try to follow, he loses an arm,’ she said loudly enough for all present to hear. ‘I expect you to send someone to collect him in a week – no more than five men.’ She smiled. ‘We’ll tie him to a tree and you’d better get to him before the trolls do.’

Brother Jakan was about to say something, but his words were cut off by Sir Tristram grabbing his sword arm and pulling him back. The knights of the Red looked dejected and Halla breathed a little more easily.

‘Do what she says,’ cried King Sebastian in the manner of a frightened child.

CHAPTER 11

Magnus looked up through the feeding trough and saw the back of the guard silhouetted against the moon. Sir Nathan had insisted that a bound man be stationed there at all times, following Al-Hasim’s appearance, and for almost a month he had been the only regular figure, aside from Castus, in Magnus’s life.

If escape or rescue were still a possibility, the Ranen priest had largely stopped thinking about it. Instead, his head had been filled with concern for the fate of his people since he had seen the king’s army ride north into the Grass Sea. Captain Horrock was an excellent commander, but he was still a common man leading other common men. If the Fjorlanders were unable to help, as the witch insisted, Magnus knew that Wraith Company would either be wiped out or driven north into the mountains. Added to this was his concern for the fate of Al-Hasim and Bronwyn. He had heard nothing of them since Verellian left almost a month ago, and their fate would now be tied to that of Horrock and the men of Wraith.

The world was changing and he hated it that he was stuck in a cell while wheels turned and games were played. He wanted to feel the sun on his face and Skeld in his hand. There was much combat and glory to be had and the Order of the Hammer were not animals to be ignored, but rather men to be on the front line, displaying the might of Rowanoco to the enemies of the Ranen people.

He could see the dark sky of Canarn over the shoulder of his guard and the smell of salt water had returned after weeks of nothing but the scent of death. Things in the town were moderately stable with Pevain and his bastards based in the old lord marshal’s office on the waterfront and the knights largely confined to the inner keep and the great hall. The people of Canarn who remained free were locked in the daily ritual of queuing for the meagre food and water that Pevain allowed them, and almost half the population were either corralled like cattle and starving to death – or already dead, their ashes adorning the town square.

Rillion and Nathan cared nothing for the common folk of Canarn. Magnus had not seen or heard anything from the senior knights for nearly two weeks. He guessed that Rillion was still annoyed at being confined to the city while the king and Cardinal Mobius marched north. The knight commander had been left with just a skeleton garrison and the actual work was being left to the mercenaries, while the knights sat around and lamented their miserable assignment.

The enchantress was still here and her assurance that no battle fleet of Fjorlanders was likely to show up any time soon had allowed the knights to relax. The plain truth, as Magnus saw it, was that no one would be coming to his aid or that of Canarn.

The moon was full and the lack of cloud made for a cold night, though nothing like the extreme temperatures of Magnus’s home, far to the north. He missed the fields of ice and snow and realized he’d not seen his brother or his homeland for a long time. Being in a cell was deeply insulting, but being helpless while his brother and his people struggled for survival was almost too much for the priest to bear.

He still wore the same woollen leggings and black shirt as when he’d been incarcerated over a month before, and the smell bothered him almost as much as his imprisonment. His face and skin were clean enough and he still received fresh water each day, along with thin, watery gruel and bread, but no change of clothes had been provided – and he longed for the comforting feel of chain mail.

As he looked out of the small cell, over the shoulder of the bound man, Magnus momentarily thought he saw movement further along the feeding trough. As he tried to focus, a dark shape appeared. Mostly hidden in shadow, the figure was silently moving towards the guard. Magnus squinted and thought he could identify the silhouette of a longbow as the figure crouched next to the adjoining cell. He couldn’t see the silent intruder’s face, but he knew of no man of Ro who would use such a weapon and a thin smile crossed his face as he also made out a sheathed katana at the figure’s side. There was no indication that the bound man was aware of the intruder’s presence and he was leaning against the stone wall, fed up with another night’s mundane guard duty.

What the man didn’t yet realize was that his night was about to become rather less mundane, as Rham Jas Rami, the Kirin assassin, started to ascend the feeding trough towards the guard’s back.

It had been several years since Magnus had seen the Kirin. Rham Jas’s face was covered by the hood of a black cloak and he crept like a predator as he came close to the guard. He moved with stealth to within a foot of his target, before slowly and silently drawing his katana and gradually standing up. The guard was completely unaware of the figure at his back and the man of Ro even yawned and puffed out his cheeks in an unconscious gesture of tiredness and boredom.

Rham Jas held his katana with the blade pointing down and gradually moved his arm round the guard’s neck until, at the last possible moment, his hand darted to cover the man’s mouth and the blade entered his side, just under the armpit, and angled sharply downwards, killing him instantly. The dead man made no sound beyond a faint groan as Rham Jas carefully removed his sword and cradled the body to the ground. The Kirin then poked his head out to check that no one had seen his target fall, before moving back into the shadows and carrying the dead man down the feeding trough to Magnus’s window.

‘You stink,’ he said, with the same infuriating grin that had made Magnus punch him in the past.

‘And you’re ugly,’ the priest replied, offering his hand to his old friend through the bars. ‘Good to see you, Kirin.’

‘And you, Ranen,’ Rham Jas replied, with an even broader grin as he grasped Magnus’s hand and shook it warmly.

‘I have no idea why you are here, but it’s a nice surprise. Did you bring an army with you?’ Magnus asked.

‘Not exactly.’ Rham Jas pointed to something behind the priest.

Magnus turned quickly and saw Castus, the gaoler, standing wide-eyed in the dungeon passageway. He wasn’t moving and his mouth was open, with a slight drizzle of blood on his lips. Then he crumpled limply to the ground and behind him appeared the figure of Lord Bromvy of Canarn, holding a bloodied longsword.

‘Brom!’ exclaimed Magnus, louder than he had intended.

‘Stealth was never one of your gifts.’ Brom smiled. ‘Don’t worry too much, though, the bound men that were with this pig are both dead.’ He kicked the lifeless body of Castus to emphasize that he’d taken care of the other guards. ‘Rham Jas, get to it,’ he said to the Kirin through the cell window.

Rham Jas took a quick scan behind him to make sure the way was clear, then darted back out of the feeding trough and into the city.

‘How did you get in here?’ Magnus asked Brom, unsure what his two friends intended.

‘Let me get you out of there first,’ he said, retrieving the cell key from the gaoler. ‘Where’s Skeld?’

Magnus scowled. ‘Pevain was given him as a trophy.’ The fact that the dishonourable mercenary knight had his war-hammer still bothered Magnus greatly.

‘Well, I hope you’ve been practising with a longsword,’ Brom said with a smile, kicking the gaoler’s sword towards the cell.

The young lord of Canarn was wearing tough-looking leather armour and carried a heavy-looking leaf-shaped blade in his belt.

Brom unlocked the door and the grating sound was like a strange kind of music to Magnus’s ears as, for the first time in a month, he set foot out of his cell without a guard of Red knights for company.

‘You’re a wanted man, Brom. Coming here was not wise.’ Magnus was deeply grateful to be rescued, but the last thing he wanted was to see either of Duke Hector’s children captured and branded a Black Guard.

Brom shot him a serious look as the Ranen priest picked up the Ro longsword. ‘You doubted I’d come back? The Red bastards killed my father, Magnus… they beheaded him as a traitor.’ Brom’s face had always looked fierce, but Magnus thought he’d gained an extra edge of darkness since they’d last met.

‘They made me watch as they killed him… I mourn him too.’ He directed a grim look at his friend.

‘I know you’d have stopped them if you could.’ Brom began to wipe the gaoler’s blood from his sword and turned to look down the narrow stone passageway. ‘Why are there so few knights here?’ he asked, changing the subject. ‘Lanry saw a massive army pass through, but he didn’t know what was going on.’

‘Rillion was left with only a token force to hold the city while the king went north,’ Magnus replied.

Brom looked genuinely surprised by this news. ‘The king? As in the king of Tor Funweir? As in King Sebastian Tiris?’

‘I think that’s what your people call him, yes,’ replied Magnus. ‘There’s much you don’t know, my friend.’

‘That goes for you as well,’ Brom said, still processing the news that the king had passed through the city. ‘We ran into Kohli and Jenner, so we know Hasim was here and took my sister north. Please tell me you know what happened to her?’ They began to walk back along the dungeon passageway. ‘Please tell me she’s still alive.’

‘I wish I could answer you, my friend, but I haven’t seen her since Hasim smuggled her out of the city.’

‘Will she be safe in Ro Hail?’

Magnus frowned. ‘Hard to say. If they got out before the king arrived…’ He paused. ‘It takes time for the Free Companies to muster.’

Brom resumed walking towards the guard station at the end of the passageway and Magnus could see two more dead knights, propped up against the wall with their throats slit. The young lord of Canarn was just as cold and dangerous as Magnus remembered, and the priest was impressed at the way he’d entered the dungeon and killed the three bound men without making a sound.

‘Let’s keep things simple for now,’ Brom said, as he stepped over the dead knights. ‘How many fighting men are left in the keep?’

‘Fifty Red knights and a hundred bound men. I think Pevain has a couple of hundred mercenaries in the city… more than we can handle.’

‘I know about Pevain and his bastards – Lanry has a surprise for them,’ Brom stated.

‘A few common men don’t add much to our fighting strength,’ Magnus said, beginning to wonder if Brom intended some kind of glorious last stand.

Brom turned off the passageway, before the stairs that led up to the keep, and stepped into a dusty antechamber that contained a disused slit trench.

‘We have a few friends here as well. They’re waiting for the signal to join us in the keep. We’ve got a chance, that’s all.’

He had a vicious look on his face and Magnus thought Brom was very much on edge, wanting to get bloody as soon as possible. In fact, his friend was shaking with anticipation.

Magnus noticed that the iron grating above the disused toilet trench had been opened from within and realized how Brom had sneaked in without having to pass the knights in the courtyard above.

The Ranen priest paused as he watched Brom quickly move to the open grating. ‘Brom,’ he said quietly, making his friend turn back to him. ‘You need to settle down. Your hand is shaking.’

Brom looked at his sword hand and smiled. ‘I feel like I’m going to war for the first time.’

‘Rillion and his knights are true fighting men. They’ll kill you if you’re not focused. You and I are not burdened with Rham Jas’s gifts, Brom… simple men like us need to rely on skill, steel and luck. Take a moment to focus, my friend.’

The young lord had to wrestle with his impatience before he sat down heavily on the grating. He was breathing deeply and Magnus realized he had been functioning largely on adrenalin up to this point.

‘Rham Jas is waiting upstairs, we can’t take too long,’ he said, glancing up at the huge Ranen priest. ‘Apparently he’s got a plan.’

‘He’s patient. The longer we give him, the more time he’ll have to rub his hands together and be impressed at his own cleverness.’

The disused slit trench led out from the inner keep and it looked as if Brom had bypassed the courtyard entirely when he came to rescue Magnus.

‘Does his plan involve getting out alive?’ Magnus asked.

The lord of Ro glanced up and smiled thinly. ‘If the plan works, we should be alive
and
able to stay in the city.’

‘Sounds like a good plan, then,’ Magnus said. ‘If it works.’

‘Well, you don’t just have me and the Kirin to rely on… don’t worry.’ Brom puffed out his cheeks and stood up slowly. ‘We’ve found some unlikely allies… and we gave Lanry something that should deal with Pevain.’