I Know Not (The Story of Fox Crow) (13 page)

      Nana, she called her nana
! I should have seen immediately that the cleric was not related to the Duchess. That meant she was hired help, meaning Gelia had been Aelia’s keeper since before she could form full words, and that takes money the likes of which most people could not even conceive.

      Have you ever noticed that no matter how many times you tell yourself you should not to trust a pretty woman, you always do? Have you always noticed you always wind up getting kicked where you fork your horse for it? We were on the outskirts of the Sorrow Wood, one of the great bastions of darkness in the Kingdom with a Grand Duchess!

      Low Dukes and Duchesses had enough intrigue in an afternoon to cause a hundred deaths, but the little honorific ‘Grand’ meant she was related to the King. The Grand nobles all like to assassinate other Grand nobles, or capture them for ransom, or to keep them out of the way, or to try the rape–that–turns–to–marriage angle. These are just hobbies they engage in when everything is peaceful! What they would do to one another when there’s a crucially important and mind bogglingly lucrative deal on the table can only be guessed at. No matter what killing the guards, including myself, would be necessary.

      Wait a minute
. I looked back at her through narrowed eyes, now leery that any disturbance in the conversation was a covered pit, “Conaill has a Grand Duke, not a Duchess.”

      Again, she fluttered for just a second before she reasserted control and grabbed hold of something inside herself, impressing of me again, “My father took the direct route. He employed a massed caravan guarded by two hundred men in heavy armor. An assassin took his life before the procession had marched its second day.” My eyes flicked to the stricken faces of the boys; to the heavy, lined face of Gelia; and back to Aelia who lashed her tears down inside to save her dignity, “As his successor, I decided twenty men, moving swiftly, would have a greater chance. I have spent more time than I would like to remember circling the Sorrow Wood the wrong way around to reach Carolaughan. Many men I have known since I learned to speak have died in front of me.” Her voice, on the edge of cracking, gained an underlying plate of rock. She gaze proudly at me and straightened. “In their memory, and that of my father, I will not stop now.” he paused, gathering words against me. “I will pay you ten times what I said to see me to Carolaughan–“

      I stilled her with an upraised palm, my face a hard mask, but the words popped from between my lips with a life of their own, “I have taken a contract. I will complete it as I have sworn.”

      The words were familiar in my mouth, running along a deep rut in my tongue. They were also the truth. I am only vaguely sure of what kind of a man I am, but I know that had it been me, I would have lied too. I don’t have to like it, but I also don’t have to be a hypocrite. I looked amongst the carriage party, and was frightened at the respect I saw there. The enormity of my words was finally driven home by Gelia, who turned away as she blinked back tears of relief.

      I had just committed myself to guarding the whelps that mindlessly worshipped me, the holy woman that hated me, and a lovely lady who lied to me at every turn. And a cat.

      What have I done
? Self-loathing bubbled up from deep inside the Fog, a poison that dribbled down my spine,
What you have done is put yourself between countless swords and their target
.
Idiot
.

      The point was driven home by the carriage itself. An anchor around our necks this entire trip, now it was almost beyond hope. It had dozens of arrows and bolts prickling from this side, not to mention out of one of the chargers as well as one of the workhorses. The workhorse had already laid down and been silenced, and it looked like the warhorse would be next. We could have lost both the stolen army horses with no trouble, but the heavily muscled chargers were vital to keeping the heavy wagon moving. Instead of saying anything twice, Godwin just patted the shivering, arrow-freckled side of the left charger. Even hooking up the officer’s horse would not make up the loss in strength. To top it all off, one of the carriage wheels was canted slightly and would surely shatter at the very next bump.

      I shook my head, “There was no way this thing is going to make it much further.”

      “We cannot leave the carriage, Crow.”

      The words ignited the poison of my own recriminations, burning down into my belly and exploding into my arms. I ran the last few yards to the door to the carriage, cocking back a fist meant to break the wooden coat of arms that hung there. I grabbed the door with the opposite hand and the curled fingers trembled by my ear. Forgotten disciplines tied down the temper seeking to command my body and, after long seconds, the arm dropped. I swallowed mindless screams of rage, doubtlessly turning an interesting shade of red. Hot breath whooshed out of me with all the pent up energy rage had lent me.

      I just stood there and considered our next move. Well, I stood there and made the boys really nervous as they unhitch the horses, and that’s almost the same thing. Miller and Theo stumbled unloading the money chest from the top of the carriage, it scraped and tumbled, missing Theodemar by less than a fingerlength. It crashed against a jagged stone sticking up out of the frozen soil and a dozen rivets snapped like whips, disgorging the entire contents of the chest out through the broken side. Instead of wealth beyond imagining, it contained only three chainmail hauberks, a few small bags of coins, and some plain goblets and platters and a man weight worth of bricks. This entire time, hauling this thing from place to place, always placing it at the edge of camp, and the damn thing was filled with dregs and dross.

      A light dawned behind my eyes. She had left it at the edge of camp, hoping it would be taken, hoping that our pursuers would waste time trying to escape with it and waste more opening it as we escaped with the real fortune. It was a plan so cunning that I would have been proud to think of it myself. Now I just had to figure out how to convince her that I had known all along. Then I remembered that Aelia was heading to a bidding war, and there had to be wealth, somewhere.

      Suddenly I had to lean forward and steady myself. That’s when I noticed the unnatural cold of the flourishes carved upon the door. It sucked the warmth from my grasping hand faster than any painted wood ever could. I gripped it harder, twisting nastily and marveling as it deformed under my tenderless ministrations. The chunk came free of the nails that sought to keep it in place and lay fully in my hand; cold, harsh, and heavy. I comforted myself with the thought that nobles paint everything within reach gold, as everybody knew, and would make the same assumption I had. There was no doubt this was not a painted gold design, but the real thing.

      With the amount I held in my hand, I could have purchased River’s Bend and all the lands surrounding. My eyes jumped from one golden carving to another, adding to the grotesque weight of the carriage, the most obviously camouflaged fortune in the kingdom. Suddenly I wanted it, wanted it all more than anything. I closed my eyes and marked every one of the boys in the clearing by sound alone. I plotted a deadly dance that would kill each and every one of them with a single cut, swipe, or thrust. The Lady would be last, least dangerous and easiest to dispatch—the Fog swirled forward inside of my head obliterating the deep seated starvation of wealth and washing it away just like the loathing for the holy knight. I looked back across my thoughts and felt a cold rush at how deadly, how emotionless, how serious the urge to murder had been.

      I hefted the twisted golden chunk twice and smirked hollowly at the noble lady, “Aelia the ruse worked for as long as could be expected. You set some bait, you changed your name, you disguised your treasure. You did well, but now the carriage is broken, your enemies know your true identity, and your bait is now exposed. It is time to change the plan.”

      The nanny came to Aelia’s side as if to lend her charge confidence. She needn’t have bothered, the young lady faced me like an equal though her irises were still stricken by dredged up memories of loss. The nun’s face lifted to me and our eyes locked. Again, I felt she knew more of me than any other living soul. It made my palm itch for the Angel. She set her jaw against me and asked, “What do you propose, Crow?”

      “They are looking for a noble Lady traveling with a wagon, Priestess, so we must find a way to be as little like that as possible.” I smiled and tossed the lump of metal into the carriage, “You brought hunting bows, did you bring hunting clothes as well?”

      Neither of them smiled back.

      Days later, I emptied the bitter dregs from my cup and slapped two slivers of cut copper coin onto the table.
In a bard’s tale, there’d be a pretty and particularly wonton busty barmaid
. As if by magic they disappeared and the fat, sweaty barman replaced them with a foaming mug.
And of course he’s busty, but in a bad way.

      I escaped that thought by focusing on the dull moaning pain in my back. I had not mentioned it, had not rubbed at it, had not even acknowledged it for four whole days. I was betting as long as I didn’t complain about it, nobody else would either. I took another drink, and couldn’t stop from making a face.
I need to start drinking something less corpse flavored
. I glanced at the bar, wondering if such a thing existed here.

      On the road, we had been a very conspicuous, slow and under–defended target. We had to change as much of that as possible. We worked like the fevered, throwing ourselves into the tasks needed to change us from a royal carriage party into a family of wood carvers. The boys alternately cursed me behind my back and marveled at my energy as we stripped the bandits and used what clothing of theirs we could. Next we used hammers to remove all family crests from weapon scabbards and burned every scrap of Aelia’s heraldry as well as the boy’s shields.

      No, I don’t have the right to call them boys any more. They have fought and died beside me. They were men, and I let them know it. Even as they smiled proudly at me a dark voice snickered in the back of my head,
Outrunning the thoughts of all that gold
?

      We unhitched the horses and took axes to the carriage, prying off chunks of gold moldings and hewing thick oak beams with endless strikes. I soon buried worries about my darker desires in a shower of sweat. By the time the last few bits had been rendered down into thick planks. We set the least luxuriously carved pieces aside for our costumes, and then placed the barely recognizable broken skeleton of the carriage on the bonfire. At least we were warm for the night.

      There was no way to hide most of the wreckage, so we made it completely obvious and patently faked. The bandits provided mutilated bodies. The dead horses provided massive amounts of blood. The chest we left in the middle of the road, empty and broken open. The entire scene, broken wheel, corpses, and empty chest, would allow anyone who came by to draw precisely the wrong conclusion.

      Aelia came forward, smiling resignedly at the ruined coach and then proudly at me. At least it was proud until I handed to her the roughest, poorest dress she owned. They were not hunting, but plain riding clothes. They were of far higher quality than any peasant would own, but they were in muted colors and of simple cut. She made a face, but she dressed in them, but even there it took some careful fraying with the razor edge of a knife and a few handfuls of dirt to make her a convincing peasant. The cleric was easier, owing to her owning poorer clothes to start, and the boys easiest of all.

      Now if I could just get them to stop walking like guards, we might survive
. But, once again, they were not the ones giving me the most headaches.

      “It will cost me money I severely need to replace those goods in order to be presentable for the Dwarves.” Aelia groused. Again.

      I gazed along her form, now only covered in a simple brown and tan dress and stained, dull red cloak. The perfect kind of thing to wear if you were going to be playing in a place with a lot of horse manure, dirt, and sweat, “Your enemy will have spent more still.”

      “How do you know?”

      I turned to her slowly. “Because they have failed with thugs and they have failed with mercenaries…” I let all mirth leave my voice, “…the assassin guild’s talent is not cheaply bought.”

      Those words lay in the center of the group like a sputtering bomb, quelling further discussion. Now, with Gelia and Aelia dressed simply, I had the boys load the horses with the gold plaques ripped from the carriage and weapons, disguised underneath the beautifully carved wooden beams. Once the horses began to protest at the weight, I doled out packs and sling bags, similarly laden, to the boys. I took one myself onto my shoulders, but there was still two packs worth of gold left to carry.