Duty: a novel of Rhynan (30 page)

Another teasing peek out of the shelter brought
another arrow, this one closer. My teeth chattered and my arms
shook. My ribs ached.

“One more time,” I whispered.

The rhythm of battle began.

Shoving aside my rising fear, I braced my quivering
arms on my knees and jabbed the oilskin out farther toward
Dentin.

The force of the arrow hitting my sword knocked it
from my numb hands and over the edge of the walk. My heart fell
with it. Metal clattered distantly on the stone in the bailey
below. Shuddering silent sobs gripped my chest.

The archer’s cry of triumph morphed into a shout of
anger. He cursed fluently.

Dentin yelled in pain. His opponent lunged in for the
kill only to be set have his shin split by Dentin’s sword and
shoved from the wall by his shield. The heavy thud of his body
striking the stone turned my stomach.

Dentin’s relief didn’t last long. The next combatant
took the first’s place. I couldn’t decide which was better to die
quickly by three to one odds or this slow death by attrition.

Just as I debated sticking a hand out, anything to
spare Dentin, Tomas called out. My head whipped around in time to
see Tomas running toward me.

“On your feet.” Catching my upper arm, he half
dragged me along with one hand. When I gained my feet mid run, he
let me go.

“Stay behind me.”

Dentin drove his opponent backwards to where the walk
widened where it joined the tower wall. The remaining combatant
dodged Dentin’s shield and lunged at Tomas.

A deadly test of balance and agility commenced. Tomas
blocked a blow aimed for his chest only to be caught in the head by
a shield. He stumbled back, teetering for a moment on the edge.

Suddenly uncoiling at his opponent, Tomas lashed out
with sword, catching the man unawares and drawing first blood. The
gash along the man’s forearm looked deep.

Connecting blade to blade, Tomas forced his opponent
backwards in a sudden show of strength. The man stumbled,
scattering pebbles over the edge.

Tomas followed him. Sword moving faster than my eyes
could follow, he pressed the man backwards.

My skin prickled. Someone was breathing behind me.
Heart stuttering in fear, I pivoted on my left foot and raised my
shield in a clumsy attempt at an old training move.

Nothing prepared me for the force of his blow. I
almost dropped my only defense. His blade slid off of the metal
rim.

I fumbled for my knife. At only nine inches long, it
was a platry offense against a sword, but the best I had.

Instinct brought up my shield arm to meet his next
blow. The downward force of his blow brought me to my knees. His
blade bit deep into the metal rim. Wood groaned.

He brought it down again. I shoved back against the
blow this time. The rim of my shield snapped off with a twang.

The next blow nearly cleaved the wood in two. The tip
of his blade stopped inches from my arm. He braced his feet to
heave his weapon free, and I saw my opportunity.

He pulled and I let go. Staggering backwards, his
heel missed the edge, coming down on air.

For an eternity, he hung there, frozen on the verge.
Then he was gone.

A groan drew me to the edge of the walk. Far below, a
broken body on the bailey cobbles, limbs twisted unnaturally. My
stomach turned. With my heartbeat thundering in my ears, I
swallowed back the acidic taste of bile.

“Rell?” Tomas joined me at the edge.

He looked past me at the remains. Then wordlessly, he
searched my face.

I found I couldn’t face his scrutiny no matter how
symathetic. I focused instead on my shaking hands. Only a minute
ago, that mess on the ground below had been a living man. My chest
grew cold.

“I killed a man.” The words tasted bitter.

“He wanted to kill you.” The sharp edge to Tomas’
voice brought my chin up. The understanding in his eyes
counterbalanced the coldness of his voice. “We need to move.” He
gestured toward the tower door.

I turned to obey his unspoken order.

One body lay sprawled on the walk next to the door.
Dentin stood over him.

“I lost Dentin’s sword over the edge.”

“We will claim it later.” He handed me the dead
man’s. “Can you manage with that one?”

I wanted to throw the heavy thing aside. “Any sword
is better than none.”

Acknowledging my acceptance with a nod, he stepped
over the corpse’s legs. Yanking the tower door open, he gestured
for us to enter ahead of him.

Tomas took the lead. With shield before him and sword
drawn, he started down the steep stairs.

Dentin followed.

We met no resistance. The door at the base of the
tower opened without protest. Despite our caution as we emerged, no
one stepped forward to confront us. We ran along the inner bailey
wall toward the keep.

My stomach threatened to empty when we passed the
remains of the men from the wall, but I willed it back into
place.

The rain slowed as we entered the inner bailey. Our
running feet echoed in the eerie silence.

When we crossed the opening into the practice yard,
Dentin came to an abrupt halt in the center of the archway.

Three corpses lay in the center of the yard. Arrows
jutted from of the backs of two of them. The third lay face up in a
puddle of his own blood. I couldn’t see how he died, but I
recognized his ash-white hair and red beard in the light from the
open stable and armory doors that spilled across the yard.

I averted my eyes in time to see Dentin’s fingers
tighten around the hilt of his sword. He adjusted his grip on his
shield straps.

“Revolt?” I asked.

“Eliminating witnesses, more like.” Dentin met Tomas’
gaze over my head. I didn’t catch the message in his expression,
but I heard Tomas grunt his reply.

My stomach soured with the thought that Orwin was
capable of such brutality. Then in light of his recent activities,
it didn’t seem as far-fetched. After arranging my life and others
for his benefit without regard for our safety, health, or
happiness, taking a life to save his own would have been a small
step.

Dentin changed course. He ran for the nearest
entrance to the keep, the door I had used the day I left. I kept
up, barely. His legs were longer than mine and more accustomed to
running in full gear. My lungs ached from the icy air and exertion.
I was so thankful he slowed to pull the door open.

Immediately inside another body blocked the entrance,
sprawled on the stairs as though he had been climbing for the door.
Sheathing his sword and bracing himself against the wall on either
side, Dentin hurtled the distance, landing hard on the stairs
beyond.

“Move aside.” He motioned for me to get out of the
way.

My legs wouldn’t move. I couldn’t take my eyes from
the dead man’s face. The features were familiar in the way a
servant’s were. Seen perhaps dozens of times and still not
completely recognized as an individual’s face.

Tomas pushed me to one side, gently, so I braced the
door. Grabbing the feet and hands of the body, the two men hauled
it down the passage and into the first room.

I followed, careful to avoid stepping in the blood
trail. Some distant part of me screamed at the injustice of so many
deaths. Another part urged me to wake up from the nightmare.
However, the functioning parts of me kept moving forward, following
Tomas and Dentin through the undercroft, across the great hall, and
up the main staircase.

We passed three more dead. A trail of burning
torches, broken furniture, torn tapestries, dripped wax, and
occasional blood smears led us up the main stair, right to the door
of the lord’s bedchamber. Dentin stopped on the top step and
signaled for silence. Tomas turned to relay the message from his
perch a few steps below Dentin. I forestalled him by folding my
lips around my teeth, clamping my mouth closed, and nodding.

Someone was crying. The soft whimpers and shuddering
breaths filled the silence between another person’s pacing
treads.

“Oh, stop sniveling!” Orwin’s voice echoed out into
the corridor through the open bedchamber door.

“They didn’t have to die.” Rolendis yelled back and
then burst into loud sobs.

“Would you rather we die? Those rats were threatening
to hand us over to that army out there. I doubt Lord Irvaine would
reward you for your part in our schemes.”

A loud sniff came from the room. “I have done nothing
wrong.”

“Releasing a prisoner of Lord Irvaine and taking his
vargar by force are hardly nothing, woman. If you didn’t carry the
heir to the title of Irvaine, Jorndar would have killed you too
despite your pretty face.”

“He can’t. He swore to protect me. It was part of our
vows.”

“Naïve child, that hasn’t stopped men before.”

Her desolate wail cut across my nerves. Dentin
flinched and Tomas cringed.

Orwin’s foot falls retreated from near the door.

Dentin took advantage of a momentarily clear shot and
dashed across to the other side so that he and Tomas now flanked
the doorway.

“Cease your wailing. We might be able to help each
other.” Orwin lowered his voice.

“Take your hands off my wife, worm!” Jorndar’s anger
echoed around us, bouncing through the open doorway, off the empty
corridor walls and the cavernous space above the stairs.

Tomas and Dentin exchanged frowns. We couldn’t see
from where he had come. I could only guess he emerged from the
secret tunnel.

“I was merely keeping her company.” Orwin’s voice
dropped into subservient tones.

“I don’t share, Wisten. You touch and you pay, with
limbs.”

“Is the end of the tunnel open?”

One of them spat. Something metal skittered across
the floor.

“Never reached the end. The middle caved in decades
ago. By the look of it someone did it on purpose.” Jorndar cursed.
A great crack of something striking wood heralded a deafening crash
of pottery. A metal bowl rolled out the open door, wobbled in a
circle, and then settled on its bottom.

Dentin flattened himself against the wall. Tomas and
I did likewise. Swords at the ready, we listened in the tense
silence that followed.

“What do we do now?” Orwin whined.

“Bargain.”

“With what? We have no money. She isn’t worth
anything until she births the boy-child. What do we possibly have
to bargain with?”

Jorndar laughed. “You.” The scrape of a sword coming
free of its sheath filled the silence.

A second sword was drawn.

“You are mad!”

“Maybe so, but I am not wanted for treason and you
are.” Someone shuffled their feet. “The king arrived yesterday. His
banner waves over the camp now. Rumor is he wants the architect of
the invasion, the mole. You.”

“But what about…” Orwin was cut off by the whistle of
a sword cutting the air. He scrambled and fell.

Jorndar laughed. “Yes, I picked a fight with his
favorite, but that is insignificant compared to your
transgressions.”

“There is another way.” Orwin’s voice cracked.

“Do tell.”

“There is a tunnel under the wall in the garden.”

“That will only gain us entrance into the town. How
do you propose we get past the walls?”

My cousin rushed to explain. “I know someone who will
get us out…for a price.”

“How much?” Jorndar’s incredulous tone sent chills up
my back. He wasn’t buying into Orwin’s plan.

“A few gold nibs should do it. Nothing much.”

“Do you have a gold nib?”

“No.” Silence.

“Then we are back to my plan.”

“But…”

Another whistle ending in a cry of horror from
Orwin.

“I suspected as much. You are a coward.”

The clash of metal grating against metal set my teeth
on edge.

I still wasn’t in the clear. Orwin had admitted to
nothing. If he died before confessing my innocence, I would be as
good as dead as well.

Dread filled my chest. My cousin was not a skilled
swordsman. I debated the wisdom of storming the duel. If we did, we
could possibly save Orwin from dying and taking me with him.

“Fool, you cannot run from me!” Jorndar yelled.

Orwin emerged from the room at a run only to be
propelled back inside again by Dentin’s shield.

“He has a point, Wisten. There is only so far one can
run.” Dentin stepped into the bedchamber. Tomas and I followed.
“Close the door, Rell.”

I bolted the door and stationed myself against the
wall next to it. I wished I could have placed myself on the other
side. I was useless either way.

“Who are you?” Jorndar sneered at Dentin. His gaze
flickered briefly over me to Tomas. His scorn hardened into
hatred.

“Tomas the mutt, have you come to beg for your castle
back?” He adjusted his grip on the hilt of his sword and drew the
knife at his waist. “I will finish you this time.”

Dentin’s sword whipped up to derail Jorndar’s lunge.
Sliding his weapon the length of Jorndar’s blade, Dentin stepped
between the childhood adversaries. He forced Jorndar to scramble
backwards, barely missing Orwin’s prone form.

“You forgot me.”

Jorndar’s gaze lost a bit of its mad glitter as he
focused on Dentin again.

“You do not interest me.”

The two of them exchanged blows, testing.

Dentin nodded a bit. “You, on the other hand interest
me greatly. I understand you want something.”

Jorndar’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”

Orwin, taking advantage of Dentin’s distraction,
scrambled to his feet and backed toward the strangely silent
Rolendis. She remained perched on the edge of the bed, apparently
frozen in surprise. Only her eyes moved, following Dentin.

“Your wife knows.”

Orwin froze as attention shifted to Rolendis. I
couldn’t see Tomas’ face, his back was to me, but I did see him
tilt his head ever so slightly.