David Weber - War Maid's choice

He tapped his steel breastplate with a gauntleted fingertip, smiling thinly at his wind brother, and Tellian gritted his teeth.

“Dathgar and I are just as well armored as you are,” he pointed out bitterly.

“Yes, you are. But if that is Cassan,” Hathan smiled grimly as he finally said the name out loud, “seeing you is far more likely to push him over the edge. He wouldn’t be happy to see me, either, of course. But if you’re still in here with His Majesty, he’s going to be less tempted to try to arrange an ‘accident’ than he would if you came into reach. Especially if he hasn’t informed his men of what he’s really up to. And if he does do something hasty, Gayrhalan and I are well enough protected-and fast enough-to have a better chance of getting back here in one piece than anyone else you could send.”

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. ‹I think he’s lying-his lips are moving!›

“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. Tomanak 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.