David Weber - War Maid's choice

“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! ”

“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.”