David Coe - Bonds of Vengeance

“It hasn’t distracted me at all,” he said sourly, “and it won’t. If you know they’re here, then you also know that I refused even to shelter them in the castle.”

“I’d noticed that. Your treatment of these men has been quite interesting, Lord Kentigern. You refuse to quarter them, but you offer them provisions and when the storms come, you give them material to build shelters. One might get the impression from all this that you’re of two minds about this king you claim to hate.”

“Nothing could be further from the truth. But I couldn’t merely send them away, not without provoking the king.”

She raised an eyebrow, a cold smile on her lips. “You don’t seem to understand, Lord Kentigern. That’s precisely what we want you to do. I would have thought that my message had made that clear.”

He stared at her, as if seeing her for the first time, his stomach turning to stone. “You knew they were coming,” he said hoarsely. “It was no coincidence at all that your message arrived just before they did. You were instructing me to turn them away.”

“I prefer to think that we were offering you an opportunity to fulfill the oath you swore to us several turns ago. I must say that I’m disappointed you chose not to.”

“You gave me no time.”

“Nonsense! You’ve had since Qirsar’s turn.”

Aindreas shook his head. “That’s not what I mean.”

“I know it’s not. But you entered into our agreement thinking that you would use us as a weapon in your dispute with the king. You gave little thought to what we would ask of you, because you believed that our movement could be turned to your purposes. Only now, with the arrival of my message and this visit from the king’s men, do you begin to see how wrong you were. No doubt this is difficult for you, but to be honest, I don’t care. You’ve pledged yourself to our cause, and we expect you to honor that pledge. You wanted to strike at your king; now is the time.”

The duke stood dumb, like a man who had just been cozened out of his wage by one of the tricksters who followed the Revel from city to city. He could think of no words with which to counter what she had said, because all of it was true. He had thought to use them only to find himself a tool in their hands.

“I’ve yet to speak with the king’s captain,” he said at last, surrender in his voice. “Shall I send them away without granting him an audience?”

“I’m not certain that’s enough anymore.”

He swallowed. “What do you mean?”

Before she could answer, there came yet another knock, this one loud and insistent. Aindreas’s eyes flew to the door, his chest tightening. “In a moment!” he called. He turned to the Qirsi woman and in a whisper said, “No one must see you here.”

For a moment she stared at him, as if daring him to try to make her leave. After what seemed an eternity, with the pounding at his door resuming, she stood and walked to a second door, which led to the duke’s private antechamber. Only when she was hidden within the smaller chamber did Aindreas go to the first door and pull it open. As he had expected, Kearney’s captain was there, standing between two of the duke’s guards.

“I’m sorry, my lord,” said one of the guards. “We tried to stop him, but. .” He shrugged sheepishly, leaving the rest unspoken. But he’s the king’s man .

The duke resisted the impulse to point out that two of his guards should have been able to stop one man no matter whose colors he wore. Instead he motioned the captain into the chamber, glaring at the guards. “Return to your posts,” he said. “Make certain that none of the king’s other men find their way into my castle.”

The soldier looked at the floor. “Yes, my lord.”

Aindreas closed the door smartly and turned toward Kearney’s man.

“You have no right entering my castle unbidden.”

“On the contrary, my lord. I have every right. I was sent by the king himself, who is sovereign of all lands in the realm. I awaited word from you for as long as I felt I could, but I refuse to allow you to put me off for another day.”

Any other day he might have argued with the man, but with Jastanne in the adjacent chamber he thought it better just to hear what the captain had to say and be done with it.

“You bring word from the king,” he said, prompting the man.

“I bring a warning, my lord. Your payments to the Crown are in arrears, you have yet to respond to the king’s message summoning you to the City of Kings, and the king knows that you speak openly of rebellion. The king has been tolerant of these lapses thus far, knowing how you and your family have suffered in the last year. But his patience wears thin. Soon he’ll have little choice but to send men to Kentigern in far greater numbers than he has this time.”

Such arrogance! Aindreas wanted to slap the man, to watch the outline of his hand appear, livid and red on the captain’s cheek. He knew, however, that these were Kearney’s words, not the soldier’s, and he found his old hatred of the king returning. This was why he couldn’t accept Glyndwr as his ruler. This was why he had turned to the Qirsi.

“And does your liege speak only of threats and war?” the duke asked, his voice like a drawn blade. “Does he offer no apology for the injustices heaped upon my house? Has it even occurred to him to hear our grievances?”

“He will gladly hear your grievances, Lord Kentigern, just as he does those of all his loyal subjects. But you must first demonstrate your good faith by submitting to his authority and swearing an oath of fealty to the Crown.”

Aindreas heard a light footfall behind him, his breath catching in his throat.

“Splendid!” Jastanne said, clapping her hands with clear disdain as she stepped to the center of the chamber. “Do you hear how he speaks to you, Lord Kentigern? He speaks of submission to the king’s authority and oaths of fealty. But in return he offers only threats. How typical of you Eandi.”

The captain’s hand strayed to the hilt of his sword. “Who is this woman, my lord?”

“Don’t you see, Lord Kentigern?” she went on, ignoring the man. “Your loyalty is wasted on such a sovereign. You owe nothing to Kearney, because he offers nothing to you.”

“What is this?” the man demanded, the expression on his face almost comical. “What is she talking about, my lord?”

“I think you should go,” Aindreas said, not entirely certain to which of the two he was speaking.

Jastanne smiled. “Now? When things are getting so interesting?”

“My lord-”

“This is my new first minister, Captain. And as you can see, she has little regard for what your king has to say. Frankly, I don’t either.”

Jastanne gave a small laugh. “Your new first minister?”

“I think you should leave,” Aindreas said again, clearly speaking to the soldier this time.

The captain regarded them both in silence, shaking his head.

Finally, he started toward the door. “Very well.”

“No,” Jastanne said, stopping him. “This has gone on long enough.”

“What?” the duke said, staring at her.

But she was intent on the captain.

It all happened so fast that Aindreas was helpless to do more than watch.

The muffled crack, so much like the splintering of wood, was followed an instant later by a choked cry of pain as the soldier collapsed to the floor, grabbing at his leg. A random thought: she’s a shaper . Jastanne strode to where the man lay writhing, his face contorted with anguish. Candlelight glinted off something in her hand. A dagger; Aindreas hadn’t seen her pull it from her belt. The Qirsi grabbed Kearney’s man by the hair, lifting his head off the floor, dragging the edge of her blade across his throat. Blood pulsed from the gaping wound, a pool of red that spread across the chamber floor like fire across parchment.