John Flanagan - The siege of Macindaw

"I don't see why not," she replied.

"Well, think of this: If I did plan to drug you, why would I put you on your guard? Wouldn't it be a lot simpler to slip the drug into the breakfast you've just eaten?"

He indicated the empty platter, cup and teapot on the table, awaiting collection, and Alyss realized that he was right. His appearance with the coffee had set her on guard. But she'd eaten the meal quite happily, with no thought of drugs entering her head.

"I suppose so," she said reluctantly. Once again, he gestured to the chair, and this time she sat, puzzled as to his motives.

He poured a cup for her and gestured for her to drink. She did so, warily, sitting on the edge of her chair, alert for anything. The coffee was excellent, as he had promised. And, apparently, it was nothing but coffee. She felt no sudden dizziness, no compulsion to speak only the truth.

But still, she waited for him to have another sip before she drank again. The effect could be cumulative, she reasoned. Once again, he seemed to read her thoughts, and he smiled.

"We'll drink sip for sip, if that makes you feel more secure," he said. "You really don't trust me, do you?"

He smiled at her, but she remained stone-faced.

"You're an oath breaker," she said. "No one will ever trust you again. Not even the Scotti."

For a brief moment, she saw the light of pain in his eyes, and she realized that Keren was only too aware of what his actions had cost him. He was an outcast now, enemy to everyone he had known. He would have all of Araluen against him. People whose trust and respect he had won over years of service would now be his sworn enemies. People he had never known would revile his name.

And his new comrades would never replace the old, because they would never thoroughly trust him. A man who breaks his oath, who turns traitor once, can always do the same thing again. He knew it because he knew the caliber of men he had recruited to his banner. Men like John Buttle. Keren could never really trust his second in command. John Buttle, Sir John as he liked to style himself now, would stand by Keren only so long as it benefited John Buttle. Then, when he saw a better, more profitable alternative, he would betray him.

Alyss wondered if that was why he was here now. Keren was a leader who had nothing in common with his own followers. They were rough, uneducated men, men without principles or morals. Aside from providing a constant reminder to Keren of what he had become, they would provide him with no company, no stimulation, no amusement.

Surrounded by followers, he was alone.

She looked at him now with a new interest. Perhaps there was a chance here for her to turn this whole debacle around, without further loss of life.

"It's not too late," she said, leaning forward on her elbows, looking into his eyes. "You can put an end to this."

His eyes slid away from hers. He wouldn't meet her gaze. I knew it, she thought.

"I can't go back now," he said. "I can only keep going along the path I've chosen."

"That's ridiculous!" she said, with considerable spirit. "It's never too late to admit you've made a mistake! Are you concerned about Buttle? He wouldn't dare dispute with you! The man's a coward."

He laughed harshly. "I'm not worried about Buttle," he told her. "Nor any of the brigands and gutter sweepings he's recruited. But you said it yourself, I'm an oath breaker. Who'll trust me now?"

"All right," she admitted, "your life will never be the same. You've made a mistake, and it's one that could take years to live down. But if you abandon this course now, if you declare your loyalty to Araluen once more, at least you won't be an outcast for the rest of your life."

He said nothing, but she could see he was deep in thought. She pressed harder.

"Keren," she began. She used his name intentionally. She needed to reach him, to convince him. "You're expecting some Scotti general – " She paused as he looked up at her, suddenly suspicious. She made a dismissive gesture. "Oh, for god's sake, I'm not stupid!" she said impatiently. "One of your men said the name the other day." He relaxed as he remembered the occasion and she continued. "Look, send him packing. Tell him the deal's off. Or lie to him. Say you'll go ahead with the plan, whatever it is. Just stall him for the time being and get some loyal troops back in the castle. The men you got rid of can't be too far away. Will can help you."

But Keren was already shaking his head.

"It's too late," he said. " There's no turning back now. If I betray the Scotti, they'll kill me. Buttle's men won't fight to save me. He' ll take my place. The Scotti won't mind, so long as they know there's no Castle Macindaw threatening their supply lines when they invade."

She recoiled. "Invade?" she repeated, incredulously. "I thought they were planning to simply raid across the border." He smiled sadly.

"Oh, no, my dear girl. This is much more serious than a few skirmishes and raids. They plan to occupy Norgate Fief and make it part of Picta."

She felt the blood drain from her face. Her training as a Courier meant that she understood the strategic importance of the situation. If the Scotti were to occupy Norgate, the way would be open for them to raid any of the adjoining fiefdoms, and Araluen could never tolerate that. It would trigger a war that would drag on for years, bleeding both countries dry.

"Keren," she said, leaning forward again and taking his hands in hers to impress her sincerity on him, "you have to stop this!" As he began to shake his head, she raised her voice angrily."And stop saying it's too late! It's not too late! For god's sake, I'll speak for you. Stop this now and I'll speak to the King himself."

"A slip of a girl like you?" he said sardonically.

Alyss bit back the angry retort that sprang to her lips.

"You forget, I'm a Courier," she said instead. "And a Courier's word carries a lot of weight, even with the King. If you give up this madness now, I will do all I can to help you. I swear it."

There was a rattle at the door lock, and one of Keren's men threw the door open and entered. Keren looked up at him, his face dark with anger.

"Get out, damn you!" he flared. The man made an apologetic gesture but remained in the doorway.

"Sorry, Lord Keren, but Sir John thought you should know. The Scotti general is approaching the castle."

Keren stood quickly, the tray rattling as he jostled the table in his haste. He gestured briskly to the man, who left the room, leaving the door open behind him.

"Well," said Keren, "it seems the die is cast."

Alyss tried one more time. "Keren, I can help you. Trust me."

He smiled at her again, but she realized the smile was a mask for the pain he was feeling.

"You know, up until two days ago, that might have been true. But Lord Syron died the night before last."

Alyss stood up as well.

"He's dead?" she asked. Keren nodded.

"I didn't mean it to happen that way, but it is my fault. So unless you can bring a dead man back to life, you really can't help me at all."

Will and Horace stayed several hundred meters behind the Scotti party as they followed them through the woods. Had he been alone, Will could have maintained much closer contact, but with Horace along, he felt it wiser to remain at a distance. The tall warrior wasn't clumsy by any means. In fact, as far as knights went, he was quite graceful.

But that meant nothing in comparison with a Ranger's ability to move silently through the forest. As he followed Will along the narrow track, Horace felt as coordinated as a one-legged bear.

"I don't know how you do it," he said at length. Will looked back at him, his eyebrows raised in inquiry, so that Horace felt compelled to elaborate. "How you Rangers move so quietly," he explained. Will frowned slightly, then moved back to his side.