Death and Honor: Book 1 of 2 (9 page)

G
abriel came awake to silence
. He crawled out of his hiding place and rubbed his eyes. Whether he slept or passed out he couldn’t say. The main house still burned, but there was no sign of the monster or anything living. Bodies lay scattered about the grounds, many of them torn limb from limb. The barracks had collapsed and the rubble blazed away. The guest cottages looked intact but something had ripped the doors off.

He wandered the estate in a daze, his whole world in flames. His stomach clenched and if he’d had anything to eat in the last half a day he would have spilled it on the ground. He turned toward the back of the house then stopped. A horse snorted somewhere close by. The sound called to him and he had to leave, to get away from this horror.

He found a tan mare grazing near the storage shed. She didn’t have a mark on her and she still wore a saddle. She must have belonged to one of the soldiers that rode with Father though how she’d come through the battle unscathed he didn’t know.

Gabriel eased toward the mare, his hand held out for her to smell. “Easy, girl, easy.” She shied away from him.

“Easy, easy,” he moved closer, this time he managed to touch her muzzle before she pulled away. “It’s okay. What do you say we get out of here?”

He managed to get a hold of her reins. He patted her flank then swung up into the saddle. She threw her head and snorted but didn’t try to throw him, which was good since he doubted he had strength enough to hold on. He turned her around toward the road and tapped her flank with his heel. He kept her at an easy trot, not wanting to tire the battle worn horse.

An hour down the road from the estate they came upon a short, two wagon caravan. On the lead wagon a corpulent merchant in a tan robe and turban stood up as he approached. Gabriel waved and guided the mare over beside the wagon. “You’d best get moving, sir. There’s a group of bandits in the area.”

The merchant raised an eyebrow. “How would you know that?”

Gabriel nodded back over his shoulder. “My home is, was, back that way. It’s burning; you’ll see the smoke shortly if you keep going north.”

The merchant frowned. After the silence stretched over a minute Gabriel said. “Believe me or not, I don’t care.”

He urged the mare on, hoping to cover a little more distance before dark. He glanced over his shoulder, the merchant still stood, looking back at him. He felt a chill at the hungry gleam in the man’s eyes. Gabriel looked away and urged his horse along a little faster.

It was almost dark and Gabriel had only covered about half the distance to Lord’s Way. His eyes drooped and his jaw cracked when he yawned. He needed to find a place to camp before he fell out of the saddle. A little way off the road he found a clearing. It wasn’t much and he didn’t have anything to eat or to make a fire with so he did his best to rub the mare down, wrapped himself up in her saddle blanket, and closed his eyes.

He opened his eyes to the sun shining in his face; he’d slept well past dawn. He got up and stretched, everything seemed to be working so he ran a hand through his hair and tossed the blanket over the mare.

She sniffed at him and he patted her flank. “Go morning to you too.”

He finished saddling her and swung up on her back. With a click of his tongue and a nudge with the reins he guided her back to the rode. The rest of the morning passed without them seeing a soul. They reached the gates before noon and were waved through by a yawning guard. Inside the gates Gabriel guided the mare down the main street past shops and houses; people walked and rode past him. Gabriel had only gone into the city twice with his parents, but the lord’s mansion was in the center of the city so it wasn’t like he could get lost.

A ten foot high iron fence topped with razor sharp spikes surrounded the mansion and grounds. The mansion was only a hundred feet from the gate but in the back there was a huge lawn with a croquet field and picnic area. There was only one gate and it was guarded by two men who crossed their halberds in front him when he rode up. “State your business,” the left hand guard said. By the sound of him he couldn’t have cared less.

“I need to speak to Lord St. Jaques. His country estate has been burned to the ground. Please let me through.”

The two guards exchanged looks then started laughing. When they’d gotten a hold of themselves the same guard said, “Get along, youngster. You’ll not be bothering his lordship today.”

Gabriel gaped. Of all the problems he’d foreseen the guards laughing him off the grounds hadn’t crossed him mind. “My name is Gabriel Kane. My father is, was, Lord Knight Jeremiah Kane. He was killed defending the estate. Please, I need to see Lord St. Jaques.”

“Listen kid, if you don’t get out of here right now, I’m going to have you thrown in a cell down at Watch Headquarters.”

“I’m not going anywhere until I see Lord St. Jaques.” Gabriel shouted back.

The guards started for him but they’d only taken a couple steps when a voice from behind them said, “What’s all this racket?”

Gabriel looked up from the guards and spotted the familiar gray haired figure of John Smithers, Uncle Duncan’s butler, in his spotless, black servant’s uniform. “John, thank the gods. I need to talk to Uncle Duncan.”

“Master Gabriel,” John came down from the entryway to the gate. “What a surprise. Is your father with you?”

“You know this kid, Mr. Smithers?” the same guard asked. He appeared to be the only one of the two able to speak. Both men did a credible job of looking nervous.

“Of course, Master Gabriel is the son of one of Lord St. Jaques most loyal retainers. Open the gate you buffoon. The boy looks like he’d been through the war.”

The old servant was close to the truth. Gabriel dismounted and led the mare through the gate. “Thanks John, is Uncle Duncan around? I really need to talk to him.”

“I’ve just set the master’s lunch table. I was picking some fresh flowers when I heard the commotion. What was that about, anyway?”

“A misunderstanding, nothing to concern yourself with.” Gabriel glanced back at the guards who both sagged with relief.

John looked back as well. “No more shouting from either of you. What will the neighbors think?”

John turned back to Gabriel. “Would you care to join Lord St. Jaques for lunch? I can set another place.”

“Thank you, John, I’m starving. Is Uncle Duncan in the dining room?”

Gabriel dropped the mare’s reins and raced up the steps to the front door. He ignored the rich surroundings of the entryway and turned left toward the dining room. He found Duncan alone, seated at the head of a table big enough to seat fifty.

“Uncle Duncan!” Gabriel ran over and the words started spilling out.

“Slow down, son, slow down.” Duncan put his hands on Gabriel’s shoulders. “What happened at the estate?”

“We were attacked. There were men and they were led by a monster. It was huge and it killed Father. Everything was burning.” Tears streamed down Gabriel’s face.

Duncan wrapped his arms around him. Gabriel buried his face in the older man’s chest and cried. “It’ll be alright. I’ll send a patrol out and we’ll get this straightened out.”

Gabriel only half registered the words, instead letting the rumble in Uncle Duncan’s chest sooth him. What happened next was a blur. He remembered eating until he thought he’d burst then being led off by John. The next thing he knew he found himself in a wonderfully soft feather bed with a canopy over head. He felt better. Just telling Uncle Duncan what happened eased the pain a little. He hated to admit the crying helped too.

H
e sat
up and found his boots beside the bed, cleaned and polished. His stomach growled, perhaps he could scrounge up some leftovers. He climbed out of bed, put on his boots, and slipped out of the bedroom. He stood in a short hall paneled in what looked like oak. There was another door across from him closed tight. To his right was a wall, so he turned left and came to a railing that looked down on the entry hall, a curved staircase on either wall led downstairs. He took the right hand stairs down and at the bottom tried to remember the best way to get to the kitchen.

Before he could make up his mind someone shouted. It was coming from his left so he went that way. There was an open door off the entry way leading to another hall.

“Adopt him? You can’t be serious.” That was Aunt Jolie’s shrill voice. It was coming from behind a partially closed door halfway down the hall. Could Uncle Duncan really mean to adopt him? Gabriel moved closer.

“I’m dead serious,” Duncan said. “Jeremiah saved my life and never asked for a thing. He died in my service along with most of his family.”

Gabriel’s chest tightened. They were talking about him, arguing truth be told.

“I’ll be damned before I see the boy turned out on the street. I owe Jeremiah better than that.”

“But he’s a commoner. What will the other nobles think?”

“I don’t give a damn what your holier than thou friends think. Aristocrat or not I’ve never met a more noble man than Jeremiah Kane. I will see honor served.”

Gabriel sighed. He hated hearing them argue over him. He pushed the door open and walked into a small sitting room, cutting off Aunt Jolie’s next tirade.

“Up at last,” Duncan said, smiling.

Gabriel nodded. “I heard you arguing. I don’t want to cause any trouble. If you have a spare sword and coat of mail I imagine I can find work as a caravan guard. Father taught me enough sword play to get by.”

“Nonsense. Listen to me, boy. I don’t care if every nobleman in the land thinks I’ve lost my mind. As long as this is my house you’ll have a place here. When I pass to the next world I’ll have to face your father and I’ll be damned if I’m going to it after turning out his only surviving son.”

Jolie threw up her hands. “So you’ve decided. Fine.” She got up and stormed out of the room.

When she’d gone Gabriel said. “I sorry you got into trouble on my account.”

Duncan grinned and for a moment Gabriel thought of his brother and a pain shot through him. “That woman is always mad at me over something. At least this time it’s over something that really matters.”

Gabriel nodded and turned toward the door.

“Gabriel.” he turned back to face Duncan. “I loved them too. If you ever want to talk come to me.”

Gabriel nodded again and stepped out into the hall. He found Morgrin waiting for him.

“So we’re to be brothers?” Morgrin said.

“So Uncle Duncan says.”

“Listen to me,” Morgrin leaned in so their noses almost touched. “We will never be brothers whatever he may say.”

Gabriel sighed. “Something we can agree on at last.” He brushed past Morgrin and continued on his way to the kitchen.

G
abriel blocked
weapon Master Zin Se’s overhand slash and countered with a quick thrust to the stomach. The nimble master leapt back, easily avoiding the attack. When Gabriel took a step forward to reengage he held up his left hand. “Enough for today.”

Gabriel lowered his sword and bowed. They’d been sparing for an hour straight and sweat dripped off his hair. He’d fought particularly hard today as it was the six month anniversary of his family’s murder. He knew with a certainty bordering on obsession that one day he’d find the creature that led the attack and face it in battle, he planned to be ready.

Someone clapped and he turned to see Uncle Duncan, his adopted father, standing off to the side of the sparing circle. “Quite a show you two put on this morning.” Duncan tossed him a towel. “What do you think, Master Zin?”

“Rarely have I had such a dedicated student. He brings great honor to his family.” Master Zin bowed to Duncan and left the ring.

“Where’s Morgrin?” Duncan asked.

Gabriel shrugged. “He didn’t show this morning.”

Duncan ground his teeth. “That’s the third lesson he’s missed this week. I hired Master Zin to train you both. How’s Morgrin ever going to improve if he doesn’t show up?”

Gabriel set his wooden practice sword down and picked up a weighted resistance sword. The wooden blade had a lead core that made it three times as heavy as a standard broadsword. “If Morgrin doesn’t want to learn he’d just be wasting the Master’s time even if he showed up.”

Duncan nodded. “What that boy needs is discipline. Classes at the Academy Martial begin next week, and Morgrin will attend. Perhaps three years of military training will improve his attitude.”

“The academy, Father used to talk about it. Could you arrange for me to enter as well?”

Duncan’s eyebrows rose. “Why would you wish to attend? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I thought the academy was where nobles went to learn about war. I hope to join the Watch when I come of age. Three years at the academy would assure acceptance, wouldn’t it?”

“Gabriel, I’ll be honest with you, the academy isn’t what it used to be. Now it’s more of a place for nobles to dump unruly children than a real school.”

Gabriel hung his head. “So they don’t teach what I need to learn to get into the Watch?”

“Well, no, the lessons are the same; it’s just that no one who graduated from the academy has amounted to anything in years.”

Gabriel’s head popped up and he smiled. “I’ll bet that’s more to do with the students than the teachers. If you could get them to accept me, I’d like to go.”

“Getting you in won’t be a problem, but why are you so obsessed with joining the Watch?”

“The Watch will give me the resources I need to find out who attacked the estate and killed Xander and my parents. While I’m searching maybe I can do a little good in the city. Father would have liked that.”

Duncan laid a hand on his shoulder. “I think he would have too. Consider yourself in.”

F
our days later Gabriel
, Morgrin, and Duncan rode through the city in Duncan’s carriage on their way to the academy. It was a short trip from the mansion but Morgrin insisted. He said he needed to make a proper impression. That the only people there would be ill behaved noble children didn’t matter to him. If Morgrin could show off he gave it his all, pity that was the only thing he gave his all.

They stopped and everyone got out. The academy was a grim stone structure built to resemble a castle. A short slight of stone steps led up to the keep entrance. According to the books Gabriel read the reason for the academy’s design was so the students could practice defending and attacking a castle. The ten foot tall wall around the grounds also made it hard for students that didn’t want to attend to escape. A burly man in leather armor waited at the top of the steps.

“Well boys,” Duncan said. “This is it. Only students and staff allowed inside. Your first break is in three months. Good luck.”

“Please, Father, reconsider. I don’t want to go to this awful place,” Morgrin said.

“Boy, I hired a teacher for you and you didn’t bother to attend his lessons. Here you’ll be forced to learn.”

“What will I learn? No one fights those stupid honor duels anymore.”

“That isn’t the point!” Duncan said. “They’re still part of the law. If you were ever challenged you’d get slaughtered.”

Morgrin snorted and stomped up the steps.

“Goodbye, Uncle Duncan.” Gabriel followed his adopted brother up the steps.

At the top the man looked them over. “You must be the new recruits. Identify yourselves.”

Gabriel snapped to attention like his father taught him. “Gabriel St. Jaques Kane, sir.”

“Morgrin St. Jaques.” Morgrin said in a bored tone.

The big man glared at Morgrin. “I can see your attitude needs work. Perhaps after you wash all tonight’s dinner dishes you’ll have a better outlook.”

“I don’t wash dishes,” Morgrin said.

The man’s arm shot out and grabbed Morgrin by the front of his shirt. He lifted the boy a foot off the ground. “You’ll wash dishes and anything else I tell you to. Refusal will earn you three lashes. A second refusal and you’ll get ten. Got it?”

“When my father hears how you’ve treated me he’ll have your head.”

“Your father knew the rules when he dropped you off. You’ll learn to do as you’re told or how to take a beating, your choice. Now follow me.”

They followed the instructor, at least Gabriel assumed he was an instructor, inside. The entry was a simple semicircular room that branched off in three directions. The unadorned gray stone seemed to bear down on Gabriel. They turned left and went down an equally undecorated hallway lined with doors. They stopped at the sixth on the left. “Kane, this is your room. Your bunkmate is in class, so you’ll meet later.” He handed Gabriel a key. “This opens the right hand footlocker. You’ll find everything you need inside. Get your uniform on and head for combat training. From the entryway go straight, it’s the second door on the right. You’ve got ten minutes before class begins so I suggest you hurry.”

“Yes, sir.” Gabriel stepped inside the room he’d be calling home for the next three years. It resembled the rest of the academy, severe and unadorned. There were two single beds just wide enough to sleep on with a footlocker at the end, two desks with hard wooden chairs tucked under them.

Inside his footlocker he found two gray tunics and matching pants. If he stood still beside the wall he’d disappear. He swapped his cloths for the uniform. He resembled a prisoner more than a cadet. From everything he’d heard about the academy these days that wasn’t far from how they saw the students.

Gabriel retraced his steps and had no trouble finding the classroom. It had a high ceiling, wooden practice weapons of every type he’d ever heard of lined one wall, three wooden training dummies sat off to one side. A group of boys around his age stood around talking, two leaned on their training swords like they were canes. A thick carpet covered the floor in the center of the room, no doubt to keep the bruises to a minimum.

He grabbed a wooden sword from a rack and went to join his class. One of the boys, a small blond fellow wearing a distant, bored frown came over. “You must be one of the new cadets.”

Gabriel nodded. “Gabriel St. Jaques Kane, pleasure to meet you.”

“Arthur Mennon.” They shook hands. “So what did you do to get sent here?”

“Nothing, I asked to come.”

Arthur’s eyes widened. “You must be off your rocker.”

“I’m starting to wonder. What about you?”

“My old man caught me with a pair of dockside whores. Cost him a small fortune to cure me of the disease I caught. He shipped me here as soon as I was better.”

“Wow.” Before Gabriel could say anything else the door opened and an older boy came in. He grabbed a sword and moved to the center of the room.

“That’s Merrik,” Arthur said. “He’s a third year that handles teaching us first years basic sword forms. He can be a real shit. If you have something to say raise your hand or he’ll hit with that sword.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“All right, you lot, line up. Five feet apart,” Merrik said.

Gabriel took position five feet to Arthur’s right. When everyone had taken their positions Merrik continued. “Today we’ll review basic positions, because we have a new student and because you all did terrible on your last test. Swords up. High guard.”

Gabriel snapped his sword up and held it horizontally above his head. The other students held similar positions though most had an elbow too far away from their body or didn’t hold the sword high enough above their head. He waited for Merrik to correct them, but the older boy made no comment.

“Low guard,” Merrik said.

Gabriel snapped his sword down, angling the blade so it went from his right knee to the middle of his left shin. He ignored the other students and watched Merrik this time. Merrik held the position all wrong. His blade was horizontal at the thighs, his shins wide open, and his feet were too close together so his balance was messed up. Gabriel hesitated then raised his hand. He wouldn’t be doing the others any favors if he let them copy poor techniques.

“New kid confused already?” Merrik asked when he saw Gabriel’s hand raised.

“No, sir. I just wanted to point out that your low guard position is a little off. You need to lower your sword tip a bit and widen you stance.”

Merrik’s face reddened. “I’ve been studying at this academy for two years. How long have you been here?”

Gabriel thought a moment. “About half an hour.”

“And you imagine you’re more skilled at swordplay than I am?”

Gabriel couldn’t come up with a polite way to say he was certain of it so he said, “I just thought you should know your low guard was off.”

Merrik’s face now resembled an overcooked beet and Gabriel questioned the wisdom of trying to help. “Step forward, cadet.”

Gabriel left his place and walked over beside Merrik in the center of the carpet. Several of the other cadets chuckled as he passed. “Sir?”

“Perhaps the class would benefit from watching an expert like you in action.” Contempt dripped from Merrik. “We’ll have a little sparing match. On guard.”

Gabriel raised his sword to high guard, content to let Merrik make the first move. He’d didn’t have long to wait, he’d barely got his sword up when Merrik thrust at his stomach hard enough to rupture something even with the wooden sword. Gabriel sidestepped the blow. It told him everything he needed to know. Merrik wanted to hurt him, put him in his place for speaking out in class.

Merrik slashed at is head and Gabriel ducked, the blade whistled harmlessly by. He caught the return stroke and turned it aside. Merrik clenched his teeth and he was breathing heavy. Sick of playing defense Gabriel attacked with a sweeping uncut slash forcing Merrik to jump back. Gabriel spun a full circle and slashed at Merrik’s ribs, his opponent got his sword up in time, the attack forcing him back a step. Gabriel stepped back, inviting an attack. Merrik obliged, lowering the tip of his sword for another thrust just as Gabriel had hoped.

A simple slide step to the left and the thrust went past with inches to spare. Gabriel brought his sword down on the back of Merrik’s hands. The practice sword fell from his fingers. Gabriel stepped behind him and kicked his legs out from under him. Merrik fell on his back with a whoosh of breath. Gabriel put his sword under the boy’s chin. “Yield?”

Merrik started to get up but Gabriel pushed the tip of the blade harder into his throat. “Yield, now.”

Merrik lay back down and closed his eyes. “I yield.”

Gabriel nodded and removed his sword. Murmurs ran through the other students. He offered Merrik a hand up but the older boy slapped his hand away. “You’ll pay for this humiliation. I’ll see you work the rest of the year in the laundry.”

“I don’t think so.” They both turned toward the door. An older man, perhaps sixty, fit, with short gray hair stood watching them. “This boy will not be punished for your failure.”

Merrik clambered to his feet as the older man approached. “Master Benson, I’m sorry.”

“You certainly are,” Benson said. “How is it one of my third year students is bested by, how long have you been with us, boy?”

Gabriel winced. “About half an hour, sir.”

Benson laughed. “Half an hour? You obviously didn’t learn your skills here. Who taught you?”

“My father began my training when I was five. For the last six months I’ve been training with Master Zin Se.”

Benson nodded. “I know Master Zin. He’s considered one of the finest sword masters in the city. Who’s your father?”

“Jeremiah Kane, I’m Gabriel.”

Benson nodded again. “I knew your father. He served under me for the final three years of the war. I couldn’t have asked for a better man. I heard he passed. Did he die well?”

Gabriel nodded, his throat tight. Thinking about it, even six months later, nearly brought him to tears. “Yes, sir. He died in battle, defending his Lord’s estate. He took several with him.”

Benson sighed. “A true warrior’s death.” He sounded jealous. “Merrik you will report to the second year training class for a refresher. The rest of you will spar until your next class. Gabriel, come with me.”

Gabriel replaced his sword and followed the older man out of the training hall. Behind him the clatter of swords indicated the others had started practicing. They walked through the dreary halls for a few minutes before stopping in front of an oak door with a bronze shield on the front.

Benson pushed the door open and Gabriel found a room with personality. Shields and banners decorated the walls. A large cherry desk filled a quarter of the room, the surface of it covered with books and parchment. Two chairs sat in front of it Benson gestured for Gabriel to take one. He sat in the one behind the desk.

Unable to stand it any longer Gabriel said, “Sir, what happened? Father spoke as if this was the greatest school for warriors in the world. Uncle Duncan warned me things had changed, but I never dreamed… This can’t be the same place Father talked about.”