Mordraud, Book One (19 page)

“
THEY CAN SCREW THEMSELVES!” the whole room bellowed in unison.

“
The little Imperial shit was squealing as if they’d placed his balls in a vice. So I stuck my sword in his throat, down to his stomach... and...” The soldier took in some air, savouring his moment of glory. “I saw the tip of my sword poke out of his arse! I SWEAR!”

“
Pack it in, Black! I saw what you did!” cried another young man sitting not far away. “Tell the truth! He was so handsome that you put... something else up his arse!”

“
How dare you! Come here and say that! Come on...”

He didn
’t manage to finish his sentence. He slumped over the table, completely knocked out by yet another mug of beer.

“
What do we all like?” he yelled, his lips pressed down on the crumbs on the table. The others replied in unison.

“
SNAPPING LANCES!”

“
What are we good at?!”

“
SNAPPING LANCES!”

Mordraud served the last orders in a hurry. He felt the sudden need for a breath of fresh air. Without telling anyone, he rushed out the back of the tavern. He sat down on the ground, on dry grass that scrunched like broken glass. He glumly crossed his legs up to his chest.

“I’ve had enough, I can’t stand it anymore!” he muttered, carefully repeating the new curse he’d learnt that evening. “I’m tired, my arms hurt... And my hand keeps shaking...”

He
’d been having the same dream for months. He’d wake up in the middle of the night in an unfamiliar house, crowded with the faces of men he didn’t know. Wherever he went, he couldn’t remember how he’d got there, or even why he was there. When the cockerels eventually woke him, he felt even more exhausted than before, and his legs ached. As if he’d been walking for decades.

“
I’ve got to do something, I have to... I want to fight! I want to go to the front!”

“
That’s the stupidest wish I’ve ever heard.”

Larois had come out looking for him. He hadn
’t noticed he was thinking out loud. Mordraud jumped up, angrily wiping off his trousers.

“
I’ll be right there. I just needed a bit of air.”

The woman pushed him back down, laying her hand on his shoulder, and sat beside him.

“Do you know what you just asked for? Do you understand?!”

Mordraud nodded instinctively, determined to hide his feelings
no longer. He knew she’d lost everything because of the war, and he’d never want to hurt her, but he wasn’t feeling very compassionate that evening. He was weary, drained by his long sleepless nights.

“
Going to war is not a game, Mordraud! A lot of people die down there, and very few manage to see the winter through! What d’you think you’ll be doing at the front, hey? Tell me that!”

Larois wasn
’t angry, even if her voice wavered at every word. She was afraid. Despairing. Mordraud decided he wouldn’t back down, not that evening.

“
I want to fight. Cambria and I have an old score to settle...”

His father. Dunwich. B
ut he didn’t say so, as she’d never understand.

“
And you want to settle things by going to the slaughter in a futile war?”

“
I’ve no intention of dying. I only want to make them pay.”

“
It’s not as simple as that, my boy! You’ll die even if you don’t mean to! Know who cares about how you want it all to happen?! NOBODY!”

“
You’re the one who doesn’t understand!” Mordraud yelled, trying to get up. Larois pushed him back down again, rather abruptly.

“
And your brother? Have you thought about him? If you were to die, who would he have in the world?!”

“
I won’t die, old woman! And I’ll become someone. I’ll earn enough money so that Gwern can study – he’s bright and he’ll be able to learn heaps of things! He’s like that other one.” He preferred to spit rather than pronounce Dunwich’s name. “He’s good at reading and studying... but me, I’m...”

“
You’re only good at hurting others?” said Larois, harshly.

“
Yes, that’s the way it is.”

“
It’s distressing to hear you say such things, you’re just a boy...”

“
I’M NOT A BOY!” Mordraud cried incensed.

“
Okay... I understand,” retorted Larois, getting to her feet. “I won’t try to stop you, Mordraud. But remember: you’re about to make the biggest mistake of your life.”

“
I know, thank you.”

“
You’ll have to wait until you’re old enough, and then you can do as you like. Go inside now – there’s loads of work to do.”

Mordraud slipped back inside the inn and sullenly began waiting on the tables again. Larois returned to the kitchen with a gloomy expression on her face. When Gwern asked her what had happened with his brother, she didn
’t reply.

The morning was chilly, tempered by a wan white sun. It had been snowing all night: the town nestled beneath a glistening heavy woollen blanket. Larois had a long list of tasks to tend to. Buy food, gather firewood, take some of the silver pieces she’d earned the last few evenings to the fief’s bank, and much more. But she didn’t want to work. Sometimes, albeit rarely, there were days when she found it hard to turn her attentions to these things. Her list could wait. She decided to stop by to see a friend, one she knew would certainly already be up.

Deanna was the wife of one of Eldain
’s captains, perhaps the fief’s most well-known and respected. His name was Adraman, a man approaching middle age, who’d spent nearly all his life fighting for the rebel cause. By contrast, Deanna was but a girl, the daughter of one of the few merchants still doing business in Eld. He had grown wealthy through the trade his family had established with the tens of neighbouring towns and villages. Many years earlier, some of her relatives had run stores in Cambria, before the war descended on the whole area, strangling any ambition they might have had.

Deanna
’s father had arranged the marriage with the only man in Eldain’s army with a drop of noble blood in his veins. Adraman was the last issue of the Adren family: minor rural lineage that could boast of age-old ties with the nobility in Calhann, south of Cambria. The officer had been, in her father’s eyes, the best match available. Well-off, respected, and with some feeble genealogical connections outside the region, which could prove useful if the tension between Cambria and Eld degenerated beyond all repair. A perhaps wise but unwelcome choice for Deanna, who’d detested it from the minute the marriage had been imposed on her by force.

Larois had known her since she was a child, when she played with the other kids in the
town, right in front of the inn, in the gravel yard where patrons left their horses. Her son Nardo was almost an adult at the time, but there were few youngsters in the town and so they spent most of their time all together. Life in the fief was hard, dismally rich in mourning. There were far more orphans than children with parents who were still alive.

Deanna was among her son
’s favourites, and he didn’t miss a chance to tease her with advice and reprimands worthy of the worst over-protective brother. She’d always been beautiful, but time had taken her to truly shine. Large blue eyes, raven hair invariably arranged to perfection, and a full mouth with a tendency to pout. She was on the short side, but had a very feminine physique. Her beauty always appeared slightly fragile, streaked with insecurities that were hidden well under layers of hostility and misleading affectations of superiority.

Following the deaths of her son and her husband, they didn
’t lose touch, and Deanna often went to keep her company at the tavern to help her not feel so desperately alone. Larois would be grateful to her for those evenings for the rest of her life. Deanna was still a girl then, but she’d shown her a fondness that had kept Larois afloat, until she’d managed to bear, at least partially, the death of her entire family.

“
Larois! How lovely to see you! Come in, it’s bitterly cold out!”

Adraman
’s house was perhaps the loveliest in town, although humble compared to any villa inhabited by the lowliest lieutenant in Cambria’s army. Deanna had brightened it up as best she could, with rugs, vases and a few pictures portraying landscapes at dawn and dusk. She liked bold colours. An attendant helped Larois off with her heavy damp cape, and Deanna at once took her hand to lead her to the fireplace. They sat down close together on the large settee draped in a thick woollen throw, and the lady of the house motioned for hot drinks to be brought.

“
You’ve the air of a perfect lady! Look at you... You’re radiant!” Larois, exclaimed smiling.

“
If I were a true aristocrat, I wouldn’t be here in Eld, among all these yokels!” Deanna replied, rearranging her blouse in a vaguely irritated way. The two friends burst out laughing. The attendant brought a jug of piping hot mallow tea and two decorated cups.

They both wanted a good chat and so they brought out any gossip they had, all the secrets a fiefdom could offer – affairs, escapades, rumours. They hadn
’t seen each other since the summer, since Deanna had gone to spend the warmer months at Adraman’s family home in the country, in the east, in the allies’ lands. Surrounded by servants, but without husband and friends, she’d again got so bored she’d lost count of the days.

“
You speak as if it were torture, and yet... you have a life most women in the town can only dream about.”

“
Larois, you can’t imagine the torment!” uttered Deanna, slowly sipping her tea. “Always alone, never with anything to do... And when he comes home, it’s even worse.”

“
Where’s he now? Is he still asleep? It’s understandable... He must be tired.”

“
Sleep?! Adraman? He never rests. Always and only work,” grumbled Deanna. “He woke at dawn, like every other morning, and went to vet the recruits for the next dispatch to the front. He never thinks about anything else...”

“
His is a hard life, Deanna. He has to shoulder great responsibilities. Try to understand...”

“
See, that’s the problem! Work, work and more work. As if he’s taken the war as his bride, not me...”

“
Your husband’s a good man. Don’t puff things out of proportion,” Larois reproached. “He’s kind to you, he treats you like a queen, and you don’t even notice that he’s attractive...”

“
...for his age. Is that what you were going to say?! Come on, Larois... He’s old enough to be my father!” Deanna muttered in embarrassment.

“
I think you owe him at least some recognition for all his attentions.”

“
But that’s exactly what I don’t get! Attention! He’s always at the front, fighting for Eldain... He comes home a few days every month, and each time I feel like I’m sharing a bed with a stranger. He doesn’t even tell me what it is he does down there.”

“
He doesn’t tell you because life at the front is appalling!” Larois replied, raising her voice. “What would you like him to say?
Today I watched ten boys your age die!
”

Deanna didn
’t answer, but blushed and lowered her gaze. Larois was sometimes hard on her, like a mother. But that was exactly what Deanna wanted. Sincerity and frankness.

“
No, but if he’d let me be part of his life... just a bit... it would all be much more bearable. I feel like a trophy! A beautiful lady to show off at the rare castle dinners attended by delegates from the allied fiefdoms...”

“
I understand, my child. But you’ll have to come to terms with it sooner or later. He’s a soldier, loyal first and foremost to his leader. But it’s clear he truly cares about you.”

“
I know, I know... I’m sorry. Sometimes I behave like a spoilt brat.”

“
Sometimes?!”

“
Come on, not always!” insisted Deanna, giving Larois a playful shove. “If only I had someone to talk to, to keep me company when I’m alone... But the servants are all old, and the women talk to me as if I were their mistress!”

“
Well you are...”

“
Don’t be so pedantic! You know what I mean. I just wish I didn’t get so bored. Some mornings I don’t even want to get out of bed.”

“
And your parents? Don’t you ever visit them?”

Deanna laughed bitterly, putting her hand over her eyes.

“Didn’t you hear? They left for the South. They want to try their luck beyond the feuding territories. That’s what I was told – they didn’t ask me to go! They’ve excluded me from their lives, all too happy about the good position achieved for me... Like a heifer at market...”

Larois had a sudden idea. Since her conversation with Mordraud, she
’d done nothing but look for an answer to his rage. He needed to be with people, to open up, to understand there’s not only brute force and war. The age difference between the two shielded her from any risk. He was a boy, while she was already a married woman.

Deanna really needed someone she could spend her time with. And it would be good for Mordraud to have a sort of older sister. Besides, she had practically nothing to do all day, she thought.

“I know a boy, called Mordraud... At the moment he and his brother are with me at the tavern. He helps me serve the customers in the evening. He’s got no friends, and I know he doesn’t like working as a skivvy. It saddens me to always see him alone. Perhaps he could keep you company every now and then...”

“
How old’s he?” asked Deanna, curious.

“
Twelve or thirteen I’d say. Maybe a bit less.”

“
So young?!”

“
Oh, you wouldn’t think he was. Sometimes he seems at least five years older. He’s bright and – when he wants – talkative. Adraman could take him on as your... what would you call him... page?”

“
I’ve heard that many noblewomen in Cambria also have a couple of boys among their attendants...” Deanna mused, out loud. “Just like the old days, hey, Larois? All the children in the town playing together, under the watchful eye of the elder ones, ready to dole out advice. Like Nardo used to do with me.”

“
He was a good boy. If the war hadn’t taken him from us...” Larois murmured, averting her gaze.

Deanna stayed silent for a moment. She slipped back in sadness to the years of her childhood. All the older kids used to spend their time with the younger ones, as if they were an army of brothers and sisters. A great time it was. It wasn
’t humiliating for Nardo and the others to look after the little ones. After all, it would distract her a bit. The company of somebody she could talk to might do her some good.

“
What did you say his name was?”

***

“DON’T SAY ANY MORE!”

“
Weren’t you the one moaning about the work at the inn?” replied Larois, suppressing an amused smirk.

“
But I certainly don’t want to be a... a... What did you call it? Attendant?!
Page
?! Companion to a lady married to an old man. Do I seem like the right person to you?!”

Mordraud was furious. Red in the face, fists clenched and glowering like a real man – he was so ridiculous Larois had to make an effort not to laugh in his face.

“Deanna’s a friend of mine, she’s a good woman. It’s just she’s bored to death always being alone, in that large house... the grandest in Eld...”

“
You’re making fun of me! I’d rather wash dishes the rest of my life!”

“
As you like, kid! I’ve given you a chance, but if you don’t want to take it...” Larois exclaimed, shrugging her shoulders. “Ah, I was almost forgetting. There’ll be more folk than usual this evening. The new recruits that Eldain’s allies are sending to defend the front were picked today.”

Mordraud felt his stomach knot in despondency, but he said nothing. He didn
’t want to give up, not against that old sly fox Larois.

“
Page... a companion to damsels... Damn her, I’m nearly eighteen!” he hissed between his teeth, without letting her hear, swiftly stalking off to the back of the inn. He needed to tire himself out, and he knew no better way than thumping the air with a heavy stick.

“
How are you, madam? How lovely you look today, madam!” he barked, shaking the club he’d patiently carved during the long nights when he couldn’t get to sleep. “Your husband is waiting for you to luncheon. One moment, I’ll help you lace up your CORSET!”

Mordraud grabbed the stick with all his might and hur
tled it at the stone well.

‘
If only I didn’t look like a blasted child... It would all be different!’

His weapon wasn
’t broken, luckily. He returned to his furious training.

‘
I’d be at the front now, and I might even have already come across Dunwich. I’d be able to take part in battles, kill the Empire’s soldiers... Damn Cambria...’ He thought dejectedly.

Mordraud took the club in both hands and hit the hard arid ground, flailing up shards of frozen mud all around him.

“How are you, madam? Oh, what did you say?... How witty of you, MADAM!”

The afternoon flew by and it was soon time to go to work. Cursing in perfect rebel style, Mordraud tied up the white apron Larois had short
ened to fit his height, and went into the kitchens, mumbling. Gwern was more than busy. He was rushing to and fro, hobbling under a pile of dishes and pans.

“
It’s a nightmare out there! Never seen so many people all together!”

Mordraud put his head round the door. Gwern was right. A herd of thirsty beasts, and many of them were still standing. Almost all soldiers, but a group of rather important-looking officers were sitting at one table. Mordraud dashed to fill the jugs and trays, pushing into the bedlam with his head down.