The Red Knight (10 page)

Talin nodded thoughtfully. “So you’ve known the Captain for some time?”

“Aye. She was nineteen when she joined the Hammer, but she won her spurs a couple o’ years earlier, fighting with her father’s Free Company.”

“She is young though, to be a Captain in the Guards.”

Talin wasn’t trying to be contentious; he was genuinely fascinated by Alyda who, at only 25, commanded not only the Company, but also the loyalty and respect of veterans like Lacgarde. The Standard Bearer stiffened.

“The Captain’s earned her commission and her command
many
times over with finer deeds than most who’ve climbed as high in the ranks. You should know that, if you don’t mind me sayin’, Highness.”

Talin shook his head; not even he was thoughtless enough to forget that she’d saved his father’s life. “Forgive me, I’m not being clear. I’m not questioning her ability, or her right to command. I meant, what is she like as a person?”

Lacgarde looked less than convinced by his assurances. It was going to take longer than a week for him to win the trust of such a close knit band of warriors.

The knight leaned heavily on the stable door and scratched one of the jagged scars that creased his jaw. “She’s quicker to smile than she is to frown, but Twins help you if you cross her. She’s cocky, but in a way that lifts you up, an’ makes you feel you can do anything, not the way that makes you want to punch someone in the mouth, if you know what I mean, Highness?”

“Aye, I think I do, remind me to introduce you to my friend Bear…or perhaps not, now that I think about it.”

Lacgarde patted the grey’s neck. “It goes without saying she’s a fine horsewoman, nigh-on born in the saddle. You know her mother’s a Shemisana headwoman? That’s their version of royalty, so it is.” The Standard Bearer grinned crookedly. “She has a calm head and a cold heart in a fight. I’d not like to go against her.”

Talin couldn’t imagine Lacgarde being wary of anyone. The man looked like a rough-hewn statue of a human, only on a much larger scale.

“Don’t mistake me—she’s not the strongest knight in the Hammer. That’s me, despite what that pup Lorhine would have ye believe. Neither is she the weakest by a similar margin. She is one of the quickest and can see an opening and attack it faster than anyone I know. She never hesitates.” Lacgarde leaned in close. “And that’s a thing you’d do well to learn, Highness: see, think, and strike, all in a breath. If you can master that you’ll not go far wrong.”

“Thank you Rann, I’ll try to remember.” Talin was about to lead his horse out of the stable when he noticed Lacgarde was scowling. “What is it?”

“Begging your pardon, Highness, but where’s your sword?”

“In my quarters—why?”

The knight frowned. “You should have been told. All knights must go about armed, even within the Arth. It’s been so since the attack on your father, when Captain Aysgarthe was killed.”

“I didn’t know. I’ll go get it now.”

“You don’t have time. ‘Captain said she’d be here on the hour and she’s never late. If you aren’t here when she arrives she’ll have yer balls for earrings.” He unbuckled his sword and handed it to Talin. “Here, take mine. I’ve got a spare, but if you could get it back to me as soon as you can, I’d be grateful.”

Talin accepted the weapon with a nod of thanks.

There was no question that the Great Hall was magnificent. The fine oak panels were draped with the Company’s many battle honours. Ancient weapons were fanned above the fireplace, forming a steel crest around the huge sea drake skull that hung above the mantle. The hall was a sight to quicken any warrior’s blood, but for Alyda the spirit of the Company resided in the stables.

Every block of stalls was immaculate, kept clean by the army of grooms who snapped to attention when she passed. The moment he heard her footfall, Lyco thrust his big, ugly head out of his box and snorted a greeting.

New grooms soon learnt to keep a respectful distance from the warhorse’s stall. The first nasty bite was usually enough to teach them caution. Alyda had heard that sending the youngsters to his stall had become an unofficial welcoming rite. She’d let it continue, so long as nobody got hurt. The Company had many traditions and they all helped to strengthened bonds, which were vital to a fighting company. When the tide turned against you in battle, sometimes the only thing that got you through was faith in your comrades.

She brushed the shock of mane from the destrier’s eyes. He snorted, but for all his show of annoyance, he lowered his head so that she could stroke the side of his face and neck. Her fingers found an old scar and traced its path down his neck to his shoulder, she leaned against him, felt his warmth, the pulse of his blood. She could have spent all day there, but duty called.

“I’ve got to go now, old friend, but I’ll take you out tomorrow—today I need Nua’s speed.”

When she reached the corner of the block where the Prince’s horse was stabled, she heard the familiar voice of her Standard Bearer. She wasn’t given to eavesdropping, but she deemed it a forgivable sin when she heard her name mentioned.

When she’d listened to what Rann had to say, she had to agree that he was almost right, if a little over-dramatic. She’d certainly bollock the Prince if he was late, or if she found him unarmed, but she’d let him keep his balls, for a first offence, at least.

The bell tolled the hour. She waited until the last chime was dying before rounding the corner. After all, she was never late. When he saw her, Lacgarde snapped to attention and saluted. She pretended not to notice that he was standing behind the stable door to hide that he was unarmed. She also pretended not to notice the distinctive meat cleaver of a sword that Prince Talin was wearing.

A groom brought Nua over. Alyda swung into the saddle, aware that the Prince was watching her every move. When he mounted up, she noted that he did it Company style. Alyda let him ride out of the yard ahead of her. When he was a good way off, she turned to her Standard Bearer who was still loitering behind the stable door.

“Tell Kieran I need to speak to him about the repairs to the tilt yard when I get back. Oh, and it would be a coin pouch. I don’t wear earrings.”

Lacgarde’s eyes widened. He saluted so hard his knuckles cracked on his chest. “Aye, Captain. Tilt yard, coin pouch. Got it.”

“Another fine horse, Captain Stenna,” said Talin as they rode away from the Arth.

“Aye, she’s an excellent riding horse, but she’s too timid to make a good warhorse.”

“Unlike that black demon of yours. I saw him earlier trying to savage one of the grooms. What’s he called again?”

Alyda laughed. “He’s called Lyco. Nua gave birth to his foal last year. I hope it’ll grow to be a mix of their best traits and not a really big, evil-tempered bastard. I don’t think even I’d want to tackle that.”

“What does your mother think? I hear she’s the expert.”

“Dear gods, she doesn’t know that Lyco’s spent some of his precious Shemisana seed covering an Antian mare.”

“Indeed? Does she judge Antian horses to be inferior to Shemisana bred animals?”

“Little better than donkeys in her opinion.”

Talin chuckled. “Donkeys?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“They look cosy, don’t you think?” Nevenna whispered to Della. The Heralds were in the hayloft, watching the Captain and the Prince ride out.

Della shrugged and rolled back in the hay. “I wouldn’t say so. She looks bored, if you ask me.”

“You sure that isn’t wishful thinking?” Nevenna teased. “I thought you’d got over your infatuation.”

Della tipped straw from her boot and fixed her lover with a frosty stare. “Don’t try to provoke me. I just admire the Captain for what she’s achieved. I spent an entire year pursuing
you
before you even noticed I was alive.”

“Oh, I noticed you alright. Always giving me the cow eyes and showing off. I just had to be sure you were serious, and not chasing me for a wager—or a joke.” She winked.

Della sat back on her haunches. “Why do you say such hurtful things?”

“Because you’re ten years my junior and as beautiful as sin. You could have your pick of the Company, but you chose me, and I’ll never know why. I’ve got piles older than you are.”

“Piles? Urgh. You’re such a charmer.” Della leaned forward and planted an angry, passionate kiss on Nevenna’s lips.

Breathless when they parted, Nevenna’s voice trembled. “Whatever your reasons, I’m glad of them. Wager or not, you mean everything to me.”

Della picked a twist of straw from Nevenna’s unruly hair. “I remember the first time I heard you sing. It was up on the borders, when we camped in those ruins. The snow was falling so thick, and heavy; I thought it would drown us. You stole my heart that night and have kept it ever since.”

“And I’m never going to give it back. Now come on, we really must get some practice in.”

Della grinned and pulled off her shirt. “Oh, I intend to.”

The rugged landscape of the Chase was the perfect place for the Hammer to hone their riding skills and train their mounts. To the east, the ragged shadow of Trelanlith forest blurred past as Alyda raced along one of the many narrow tracks that hatched the heather studded moorland. The nearby forest had been home to the first Arth, which had been in its prime many hundreds of years ago—when the Fey walked amongst humans and traded magic with the Clan Lords. Its crumbling ruins now lay in the forest’s jealous embrace, abandoned and almost forgotten.

After a good long gallop, Alyda reached a ford across the river Tennen. She pulled up to let Nua have a well-earned drink and to wait for the Prince to catch up. She’d deliberately chosen some of the more challenging trails to test his skills, those where gravel ran like water and did not forgive a misplaced hoof, or a poorly balanced rider. He’d done better than she’d expected and had kept up for most of the way, but she’d lost sight of him about a mile back. Minutes passed and there was still no sign of him. Worrying images of the Prince lying in a ditch with his neck broken, flashed into her mind. She decided to go look for him when much to her relief, he cantered around a bend in the trail.

He pulled up beside her. “I took a wrong turn.”

“These paths aren’t the easiest—you’ve done well, Highness. Shemisana tradition holds that the Horse Lord favours those with a pure heart and that his creatures will always keep those people safe. I think it’s meant to encourage children to keep their behinds in the saddle.”

“You don’t believe it?”

Alyda laughed. “Gods, no. Even the best riders fall from time to time. But my Mother believes it, which is why she finally let me join the cavalry.”

“Wasn’t your father a Free Company Commander?”

“Aye, but she doesn’t like soldiering, probably because of what he used to do. The cavalry is
almost
acceptable—horses are sacred to her gods.”

“But not your gods?”

What could she say? That she believed in what she could touch and see, but that she’d take the word of her betters that there was something more to life than was apparent. In truth, she didn’t care one way or the other. “I’m pleased you can ride, Highness. It’ll make my job a damn sight easier.”

Talin dismounted and led his grey over to the water. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Either he was religious, which, given his reputation, she doubted, or he was just extremely nosey. Alyda toed a stone into the river. She rarely discussed her family, religion even less, but he was a prince and she was duty bound to answer him.

“There are Antians, Tamalaks, Cathlans and even a couple of heathen Hadami in the First, all because of your Father. He’s done a great deal to bring the kingdom together, but there are still some subjects that are better left alone, religion being one of them.” She wasn’t much of a diplomat; she lacked the patience for it, but she hoped she wasn’t too blunt. Offending the future king wasn’t a wise career move. “I respect the gods of my family as I respect the gods of my knights, although I’ve never had a particularly strong devotion.”

“You’re quite right; a person’s beliefs are their own affair. You must forgive me, Captain, being nosey is a habit born from idling one’s time away at court.” The Prince smiled. “Where does the trail lead?” he said, looking across the ford at the rimpled path that cut through the forest.

Alyda silently cursed her lack of foresight. She hadn’t realised how close she’d brought them to the ruins. “It leads to the old Trelanlith Arth, Highness.”

“That’s where they tried to kill my father.”

“Aye, it is.”

“I’d like to see it, if you wouldn’t mind showing me?”

She never wanted to see the demon-haunted hole again, but she could hardly refuse. As much as it was framed as a request rather than a command, it wasn’t done to say no to a prince.

“Certainly, Highness.”

They mounted up, and rode into the oppressive gloom of the forest. The loamy soil muffled the sound of the horse’s hooves. Even the birds seemed to sing more quietly the deeper they went. Conversation dwindled to silence. Alyda wondered if, like her, Talin could feel the weight of centuries pressing down on him as they rode between the ancient oaks. After a short time, they began to see broken remains of carved stones, jutting through the dense undergrowth. Alyda hadn’t been to the ruins since the day of the attack. She wasn’t reassured that it looked exactly how she remembered it.