Jack Whyte - The Lance Thrower

He sat and stared at me for several moments, nibbling on the inside of his lip, then nodded his head, indicating Ursus. “Does he know the truth about who you are?”

“Aye, he does.”

“Right. So be it. Here’s what I think. Ban has four sons: Gunthar, Samson, Theuderic, and Brach. Gunthar is poisonous—a demon in human form. All his brothers know it and fear him for it, because they know there’s nothing he would not do on his own behalf.

“That fear is why Theuderic reacted as he did when he heard the word of Ban’s being wounded and Gunthar’s riding off to find their mother. His first fear was that Gunthar might seize power and might even seize the Queen, his own mother, to make sure that none of his brothers would dare to challenge him. Theuderic’s a clever young man and I have a gold piece under the leg of my bed that says he’s right in this.”

“But why would Gunthar think to usurp power? He is the King’s named heir.” I knew that was no longer true, but I wanted to see Clodio’s reaction to hearing me say it.

“Aye, that’s true, but it’s the common word around here that the Queen has no trust or faith in him. She fears his nature. There are some who would even tell you she has been coaxing at the King for years to change his decree and give the name of king to Samson, his second-born.”

I was staring hard at Clodio as all this came out, knowing exactly whence he had gained his insight and wondering admiringly at the extent and depth of his evident friendship for and intimacy with the King, and probably with the Queen, too. I was sure that such talk could not be common knowledge, as he claimed. Had it been so, Gunthar would have learned of it long since and, being Gunthar, would have taken steps to guard against it. Or would he? I found myself hesitating there, acknowledging that there was but one man for whom Gunthar had always shown genuine respect and fear. King Ban, his father, had always overawed Gunthar, and now that I thought of it, it seemed inconceivable to me that Gunthar would make any move to fulfill his own ambitions while there was any chance that Ban yet lived and might come home to knock him down and put him firmly in his place. But yesterday the word had come that Ban was gravely injured. How grave the wound might be could be something that was open to interpretation, depending upon the sympathies and loyalties of the reporting messenger.

If that was so, and if the messenger were friend to Gunthar, or if he had an eye to his own enrichment, then the tidings rendered might well have tempted Gunthar to trust his fortunes to the gods of chance.

“The messenger, Clodio, the one who came yesterday from Chulderic. Who was he?”

“His name is Grimwald. Why, is it important?”

“It might be. Is he a friend to Gunthar?”

“No one is a friend to Gunthar. But Grimwald would like to be one of his cronies, there’s little doubt of that. He sidles after Gunthar like a lovesick pup after a bitch in heat, sniffing at the great man’s arse and falling over his own feet.”

I knew then that what I had been supposing was right: the messenger had made his choice and weighted his message, and Gunthar had seen his opportunity to seize the power he lusted to possess.

“Hmm. Tell me, is the old postern gate still in use?”

“What, you mean the old gate in the back wall by the lakeside, above the rocks at the high-water mark? Nah, it’s been sealed up these five years now, ever since a boatload of Alamanni almost succeeded in using it to steal into the castle. Ban ordered the door torn out and then he filled the entranceway with mortared stones. No one will ever enter or leave that way again. Why do you ask about that? You look as though you’ve bitten into something with a nasty taste.”

“I have, old friend. What I was thinking was that if we left here now, today, Ursus and I, and some division of the enemy—and I mean Gunthar’s forces—were later to take over control of the castle and deny entry to our friends, you might be able to open up the postern gate during the night and let us back in under cover of darkness. But that’s not going to be possible, so mayhap we have to stay here, useless as we are in such a case.” I looked at Ursus, who sat watching me with pursed lips, his arms folded tightly across his chest.

“He’s dead, isn’t he? Ban’s dead. That’s why you’re here.”

I turned back to Clodio. “Aye, Clodio, he is. It grieves me to have to be the one to tell you of it, but he died two days ago.” I described the seriousness of the wound. “Even Sakander the surgeon could do nothing for him.”

I told him, then, how Beddoc’s men had slipped away in the night to bring the tidings to Gunthar, and how Ursus and I had taken off after them, passing them and leaving them behind by nightfall.

As I spoke, Clodio’s eyes did not waver from mine. “But the most important thing in all of this is not known yet,” I continued, speaking to him directly and quietly. “Not to anyone here, at least. You were right in what you said about the Queen and how she had been working on King Ban. Before he died, the King assembled all his men and decreed in their presence that he was disinheriting Gunthar and naming Samson to rule in his place. Knowing that, there can be no doubting that Beddoc was on his way to warn Gunthar. Beddoc’s people will yet be several hours behind us, but we’ve already been here for more than an hour, so they can’t be that far away. That’s why it was so important for me to arrange to use the postern door.” I swung back to Ursus. “We have to decide … I have to decide, I know. We can’t simply continue to sit here doing nothing.”

“You could come through the caverns.” Clodio’s voice was so quiet that I barely heard it, and the meaning of his words took some time to penetrate my consciousness, so deeply was I concentrating on what I must do next. I sat up straighter, suddenly alert.

“What did you say?” I asked.

“I said you could come in through the caverns.” His voice was still barely audible.

“What caverns?”

“The King’s Caverns, below us, in the rock.”

I leaned closer to him, watching the tiny half smile on his face blossom into a wide grin as he decided that he had done the right thing in telling me of this.

“Which king’s caverns, Clodio? King Ban’s?”

“Aye.” He was grinning hugely now. “But King Ban the Bald, the old man, your grandfather. And he told his son, our King Ban, that he had been shown the caverns by his father, who had learned of them from his, and so on, back until the days before the fortress was built.”

“Wait!” I held up my hand. “I don’t understand this. Why have I never heard of this before? I grew up here, and never once in all my boyhood did I hear a whisper about any caverns.”

“I know you didn’t, nor did anyone else, because no one knows they’re there. Only myself and the King ever knew of it, and I only found out by accident. And then Ban swore me to secrecy. You never heard mention of it because you were never meant to, along with everyone else. It’s the biggest and best-kept secret in all of Benwick.”

“But there must be an entrance somewhere … .” I was thinking furiously. “If they’re right under our feet, as you say, then there must be an entrance nearby, somewhere along the beach, above the high-water mark. But if that’s so, then why has it not been found by others, long before now?”

“Because it isn’t there.” There was no trace of a smile on Clodio’s face now. “It’s nowhere near the lakeside. There is only one entrance and it’s far from here, inland.”

When he told us where it was, I remembered the place, recalling that I once had known it very well indeed, having spent a fair-sized period of my boyhood playing there. But I had covered every bit of space in the caves that were there—I would never have called them caverns—and had found no hidden entrances or exits. One small tunnel I remembered, leading from one chamber to another, but that was all. I said as much to Clodio and he agreed with me. He, too, had played there as a boy, he told me, and had never seen anything unusual. But then one day he had seen the old King and his son emerge from the caves without ever having gone in. He had been playing there all day with half a score of friends and none of them had seen any sign of either the King or his son in all the time they had been there, until both of them had come out.