War Maid's Choice-ARC (78 page)

* * *

Cassan watched Stoneblade reforming his armsmen and tried not to fidget.

The baron had hoped to carry straight on into the lodge, riding to the King’s rescue in the sort of confusion most likely to create a tragic accident which could be safely blamed on Tellian of Balthar after all the inconvenient witnesses were dead. But the collision with the mercenaries had disordered and slowed his armsmen, and Stoneblade was too good a field commander. He was only too well aware of what could happen in that sort of situation, and he had no intention of allowing it. He’d had his buglers sounding the recall almost before they’d hit the mercenaries, and Cassan’s teeth ground together as he watched his senior captain in action.

I should have told him what we’re really after
, he thought grimly.
Either that, or I should’ve left him the hell home!

Unfortunately, he hadn’t, and Horsemaster’s company had obeyed Stoneblade’s bugle calls without even thinking about it. The men were confused and anxious, and their horses were spooked by the smell of smoke and burning horseflesh. They were grateful for the promise of control and command those bugle calls offered.

Now how do I get them back into motion?
Cassan wondered.
There has to be a way, but I’ve got to be careful. I can’t afford
—

“Milord!” Tarmahk Dirkson pointed suddenly, and Cassan looked up as a smoke-stained, soot-streaked wind rider rode slowly through the open gate. Cassan’s jaw tightened with a sudden burn of fury, but then he relaxed slightly. It wasn’t Tellian’s dark bay; it was that other bastard Hathan’s gray, and his mind worked feverishly as he watched the wind rider come to a halt twenty or thirty yards outside the gate.

“Sir Garman,” the baron said, turning to his captains. “Until we know more about the situation—especially the
King’s
situation—I want us prepared for any eventuality. You and Sir Kalanndros remain here and make certain you keep the men under control. I trust you to use your own judgment—and especially to see there aren’t any accidents until I get back here.”

Stoneblade looked at him for a moment, then nodded, obviously relieved by his baron’s determination to keep anything untoward from happening.

“Of course, Milord.”

“Very well, then. Tarmahk?” Cassan glanced at his personal armsman, and Dirkson nodded back, then gave his squad a stern look.

“On your toes, lads,” he said.

* * *

<
Wonderful,
> Gayrhalan growled as he and Hathan saw the crossed battleaxe and warhammer on the banner above the small, close-spaced cluster of horsemen walking their mounts towards them.

<
It could be worse,
> Hathan replied.

<
Really? How?
>

<
Give me a day or two and I’ll think of something
.>

Gayrhalan snorted, but there wasn’t time for another exchange before Cassan and half a dozen armsmen in his personal colors reached them.

“The King, Sir Hathan? Is the King all right?”

Hathan blinked at the raw fear in Cassan’s harsh, quick question. It certainly sounded sincere.

“The King is well...so far,” he replied after a moment, and watched Cassan sag in the saddle.

“Thank the gods!” The baron shook his head. “I was certain we were going to be too late. Thank the gods we got here in time after all!”

<
Careful, Brother.>
Gayrhalan said
. >

“You
did
get here just in time, Milord.” Hathan kept any awareness of his companion’s comment out of his reply. “We’re grateful you did.”

“And you’re wondering how it happened.” Cassan’s expression turned grim, and he shook his head. “I don’t blame you. Tomanāk knows there’s enough bad blood between me and Tellian to make anyone suspicious. I won’t pretend I’m sorry about that, or that I’m anything except his enemy, either. Or even that I wouldn’t do just about anything to get the better of him. And that spills over onto you, of course.” He met Hathan’s eyes levelly, his expression unflinching, then drew a deep breah and squared his shoulders. “But we serve the same King, however we feel about one another, and the last thing either of us needs is a return to the Time of Troubles.”

Hathan’s eyes narrowed at the other man’s open admission of hostility and sensed his courser’s matching surprise at the baron’s frankness.

“I’m sure Baron Tellian would agree with you in at least that much, Milord,” he said.

“And very little else, I’m certain.” Cassan managed a thin smile, but then he exhaled noisily and shook his head again.

“I don’t suppose any fair-minded man could blame him for that. But this time he and I are going to have to work
together
if we want to prevent just that from happening.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I discovered—too late, I was afraid—that my kinsman Yeraghor’s strayed into dangerous waters.” Cassan’s tone was that of a man admitting something he manifestly wished he didn’t have to. “It may be at least partly my fault. He knows how bitterly I hate Tellian, how far I’ve been willing to go to get the better of him, and he’s allied his fortune to mine. That probably opened the door to what’s happened...but I believe he’s been manipulated by someone else. Someone who would be delighted to see the entire Kingdom disintegrate into the Time of Troubles all over again.”

He paused, and Hathan cocked his head. He never would have expected Cassan to implicate Yeraghor in something like this!

“Manipulated, Milord? By whom?”

“I can’t be sure,” Cassan replied in that same unwilling tone, “but something his lady said in a letter to my wife struck me as...odd. I had my agents in the East Riding look into it very cautiously. Two of them seem to’ve disappeared without a trace. The third came to me with a tale I dearly wanted to disbelieve, but I fear he was right.”

The baron’s nostrils flared.

“There’s wizardry afoot in Ersok, Sir Hathan,” he said flatly. “I don’t believe Yeraghor realizes it, but I have conclusive evidence. I believe someone from outside the Kingdom—someone who knows all about my enmity for Tellian—has used sorcerous means to influence him. It was the last thing I wanted to believe, but when my agent reported that Yeraghor had actually dispatched assassins to murder the King, I couldn’t take the chance that he might be wrong.” Cassan’s shoulders sagged. “I turned out my armsmen and we rode as fast as we could. The whole way I was praying my agent was wrong, but these”—he waved wearily at the bodies of the dead mercenaries littering the ground—“look like exactly the assassins my agent described.”

<
Toragan!
> Gayrhalan said. <
Do you think
Cassan of Frahmahn
might actually be telling the
truth?>

<
Anything’s possible, I suppose. And he
did
say wizardry was involved,
> Hathan replied, yet he couldn’t quite produce his normal acerbity.

“And what, precisely, do you suggest we do about it, Milord?” he asked harshly.

“The first step has to be to see to the King’s safety,” Cassan replied. “And after that, it must be the dispatch of Crown magi to Ersok to investigate and smell out any wizardry.”

He was clearly uncomfortable saying that—not surprisingly, Hathan thought, given his well-known hostility towards the magi.

“It’s the only way to be certain we know what’s truly happening,” the baron continued. “I’m almost certain Yeraghor doesn’t realize he’s being manipulated and controlled by someone else.”

He shook his head again, sadly, and moved a little closer to Gayrhalan. His warhorse was smaller than the towering courser, a fact Cassan would normally have bitterly resented and done everything he could to avoid acknowledging. Now he reached out and upward, laying one hand almost beseechingly on Hathan’s armored forearm.

“I’m
almost
certain of that,” he said softly, so softly Hathan had to lean towards him to hear him. “But I’m not positive. Gods, I wish I was! The truth is, I’m afraid he may realize
exactly
what he’s done, and if the Kingdom learns one of the four barons willingly resorted to the use of sorcery, the gods only know how it will react!”

Hathan nodded slowly, forced against his will to acknowledge Cassan’s point.

“It will be essential for Tellian and me to present a united front if that’s the case,” Cassan said, his expression bitter. “And I won’t pretend that thought pleases me one bit. But if the two of us stand together, the fact that we can’t agree on anything else in the world should at least cause the lords warden to accept that none of the other barons are dabbling in sorcery. And if it turns out Yeraghor is being manipulated unknowingly, or even against his will, it’s still going to take Tellian and me together to either keep it from becoming general knowledge or to deal with its repercussions when the truth leaks out.”

<
Now
that
sounds more like Cassan,
> Gayrhalan said. <
The “repercussions”
he’s
worried about probably mostly have to do with the fact that Yeraghor’s
his
cousin!
>

<
Maybe,
> Hathan replied. <
Even probably. But that doesn’t make him wrong. If Yeraghor
is
the one who used wizardry against Borandas and now he’s tried to assassinate the King, the Kingdom could all too easily tear itself apart hunting for other traitors and hidden wizards. And he’s right about something else, too; if he and Tellian present a united front, everyone else will have to take them seriously!
>

“I trust you won’t take this wrongly, Milord,” he said out loud, “but I think Baron Tellian—and the King—are going to want to see this evidence of yours about Yeraghor.”

“Of course they are.” Cassan gave a harsh chuckle. “If the position were reversed,
I’d
certainly want to see it. It’ll take some time to assemble all of it, but I brought along a copy of my agent’s report.” He took his hand from Hathan’s forearm and reached for his belt pouch. “I think the best thing to do at this point is for me to keep my armsmen safely outside the wall while you take the report back to the King and show it to him and Tellian. Once they’ve had a chance to look at it, then—”

The hand reaching for his belt pouch darted suddenly to one side. It closed on the hilt of a dagger, and before Hathan could react, the dagger came out of its sheath, drove in through the open visor of his helmet and thrust through his left eye socket into his brain.

Gayrhalan was as surprised as his rider. His head swung to the side, trying to bat the dagger aside before it could thrust home, but he was too late. Cassan and his armsmen had planned quickly but carefully on the ride to meet the King’s envoy, and in the instant the courser was totally focused on Cassan, Tarmahk Dirkson flexed his right hand. The short bladed dagger in the spring-loaded sheath strapped to his forearm snapped into his hand and he lunged in a single supple movement. The blade went home, stabbing through the eye opening in Gayrhalan’s steel plate chamfron.

A heartbeat after Hathan stiffened and started to slide from the saddle, Gayrhalan collapsed under him.

“
Treason!
” Cassan screamed, wheeling his horse back towards his shocked armsmen. “Treachery!
They’ve killed the King!
”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

“Hathan!”

The agonized cry burst from Tellian Bowmaster as Dathgar and Gayrfressa felt Gayrhalan’s death. The coursers echoed the helpless protest, screaming their rage, and Leeana tasted blood as her teeth sank into her lip.

She and her father stared at one another, each feeling the other’s pain. It was all they could do for what seemed like an eternity, but then Tellian gave himself a savage shake and turned to the King.

“Hathan is dead,” he said in a voice of hammered iron. “So is Gayrhalan. Cassan murdered them both.”

Markhos’ face turned to stone.

“How?” he demanded.

“
Cassan
,” Tellian spat. “Cassan spun a tale about
Yeraghor
being behind all this—spun it well enough even
I
might have believed there was some truth in it. He offered to show Hathan ‘proof’...and then put a dagger through his eye. He’s mine, Markhos—
mine!
This time I’ll have his blood!”

“This time you’ll have his blood, Milord,” Markhos promised. King and baron gazed into one another’s eyes for a long, icy moment, and then Markhos smiled humorlessly. “Of course, first we both have to live long enough for you to collect it.”

* * *

Cassan thundered back to Stoneblade and Horsemaster, then drew rein so hard his horse half-crouched, skidding on its rear hooves. Both captains stared at him, eyes stunned, and he pointed back at the fallen courser and wind rider.

“The bastards have killed the King!” he snarled.

“Are you
sure
of that, Milord?” Stoneblade demanded, his expression shocked.

“
Sure
of it?!” Cassan looked at him incredulously. “The son of a whore admitted it to me!”

“He
admitted
it?”

Cassan gripped his reins fiercely, battling his own impatience. But he had to handle this carefully. He had to carry Stoneblade—and all of his armsmen—with him if he meant to succeed.

“Not at first,” he said harshly. “At first, he insisted the King was well. You saw us talking! He said the King was suspicious of our ‘timely’ arrival—that was why he’d been sent out to find out who we were, why we were here. He wasn’t happy to see
me
, I assure you! But he
pretended
he was...at least until I suggested the King would be safer out here. That was when he told me he’d been instructed by the King to invite
me
into the lodge to ‘confer’ with him and Tellian. Look at that smoke, those fires! D’you really think the King would invite me into the middle of all that instead of getting out of it himself as quickly as possible?! Besides, he insisted the King had invited me by name...after admitting he’d been sent to find out who we were! It was ridiculous!”

He spat on the ground.

“I told him that with the hunting lodge burning down around the King’s ears, it would be far better to get him safely out of it, and that’s when he started getting evasive. He came up with one excuse after another, every one of them thinner than the one before. So I told him I needed some assurance—some proof—the King was still well and in control of his own fate. That’s when he cursed me and reached for his sword. It was only the gods’ own grace I’d been suspicious enough to see it coming! I couldn’t reach my saber in time, but I got my dagger into his helmet before he could clear the scabbard. And somehow Tarmahk managed to drop the courser before he could take my arm off with his jaws.”