The Beast of the North (16 page)

She was silent and resentful. ‘I give you a fair warning. If you like me, do not touch her. I cannot forgive if you fail in that.’

‘I will be careful,’ I told her with a blush, thinking of the kiss Lith had given me. Sand was staring at her, frowning, fiddling with his saddle straps as if considering flight. I was strangely happy. She had made no promises, but she had not turned me down either. I was so confused.
My family was dead. And yet I could feel happiness? I was mad.

We rode on, and night came on entirely as the Three Sisters chased the Lifegiver’s last rays from the sky. Evening birds awoke, and their clear chirping made the past horrors seem distant. Then, we passed a large village and saw the keep far ahead. And the ruin. I had been right; there were curtains fluttering in the windows. It looked sad and forlorn. Shaduril stared at it, her eyes still.

‘Here we are,’ Shaduril breathed as if a heavy duty would take over her life the moment she stepped through the gate. We rode up to it and saw the moat was rigged with iron stakes. A sturdy drawbridge spanned it. On top of the gatehouse, red flags with a white lily whipped in the slight breeze of the vast Callidorean Ocean. We walked past some alert guards, who wore very long capes, holding tall spears high in the air. They saluted Shaduril but stared at us with suspicion in their cold, dark eyes.

‘Just guards, boys,’ she whispered. ‘But please make an excellent impression on Father. He trusts his first instincts, and he might reject you if you piss your pants.’ She glanced at Sand. ‘Or sulk overmuch.’

‘Yes, lady,’ I told her while Sand said nothing.

‘Shad,’ she smiled and then the smile disappeared, for we approached the central keep. A dense covering of Berberis plants adorned the red walls, their scent soothing to our nerves. Then the smell of sweet cooking meat, whiff of rot, and a terrible stench of tanning vats replaced that smell. Sand nudged me and pointed to our right. By the wall, there were a blacksmith and a tannery and great activity was going on there.

‘Looks like they are preparing for war,’ I agreed with Sand’s uplifted eyebrows. ‘I guess you are serious about this business.’

‘We have some men, but not enough for real war,’ said a quiet voice of somewhat menacing quality. ‘They need gear, nonetheless.’ A man had stepped out of the doorway and looked at us with freezing, appraising eyes, and we saw little else of him but those eyes, as he stood there in the shadows. They were very bright and penetrating. ‘But you know this, and you are here, to help us. Welcome.’ He was a small man, about Shaduril’s size, in fact. A man with a torch stepped up to illuminate us, and we saw Lord Balan Blacktower. His hair was dark like mine, but short and was held by a thick band of silver with dark stones set on it. His eyes were very dark, and his complexion tanned as if he spent a lot of time outdoors, and his clothing reflected that. He had very high cheekbones and a long neck. He had a leather tunic, scuffed doeskin pants, and well-used boots, and all were patched and dusty in places. ‘And you are the famous Maskan.’

I bowed my head and decided he was the sort of a man one could see wearing the crown.
He was keen of mind, calm, and decisive
, I thought. Cold and emotionless as well, I decided, but he was a strong one. ‘I am, Lord,’ I said and bowed deep before Balan Blacktower, the lord of the Tenth House of Red Midgard. ‘And I am grateful for the asylum.’ His eyes went to slits as he regarded me. I decided to be a bit more assertive. ‘Though, of course, you need my services as much as I need yours. I have innocent blood to pay back for.’ I straightened my back and decided to act like a noble would. Which I was, I decided.

His face twitched just slightly, and he nodded. ‘Innocent? The Bear? The Uncouth Lord? Your mother, a peddler of stolen items. I suppose innocence has many layers. Yes. Unfortunate that your plans went awry, though not totally. It is good Valkai’s gang is gone. It was a daring plan. But to face a Brother? You did not expect it. You should have. That mint is connected to the Tower of the Temple and is one of the few weak spots one might try to enter the heart of the kingdom.’

‘I smashed him down,’ I reminded him.

‘But you did not kill him,’ Balan noted. ‘Amateurish. But ultimately,’ he leaned toward me and whispered, ‘ultimately, you are right about our king. Innocent or not, he had no right to hang the women. No one should hang without a proper trial. Just one of the symptoms of his madness, is it not?’

‘We do not disagree, Lord Balan,’ I said and bowed again. His smile was happy if fleeting.

He shrugged. ‘I did not expect you to. Blood has been spilled; more will be spilled in the years to come if he is not stopped. Rest assured, young masters; we will act. And we don’t have much time. We must act before the Yule celebration. Before this year’s end.’

‘Why is that Lord?’ Sand asked, and they all stared at him with incredulity, like a band of merciless wolves staring a rabbit that got lost in their cave.

Balan nodded at Sand. ‘Does your friend,’ he indicated Sand, ‘know of the plan?’

‘I know of the scheme,’ Sand said with tiny amount of respect, and there was a small silence with the Blacktower family as they still gauged my morose friend. He noticed it and cleared his throat. ‘You will replace the royals. Both of them. And she—’ he nodded at Shaduril, but Balan interrupted him.

‘She is a noble, and the court is a wicked place, my young friend. She is risking her life for our homes, families and she, like many others before her, will fight for what is right, just, moral, even if it means we are breaking the laws of the land. Laws are a beautiful thing but twisted to serve the evil. And yes, we are in a hurry. The Jester’s plan was a fine one. And why must we act soon? Why, because the queen visits her family once a year, and it will be just before the Yule feast. Next year might be too late for all of us, and we dare not try to kill her at the court, no. Too many people there. We will try it where she is at her most vulnerable, where she is relaxed, where there are few Brothers about and with a plan she surely won’t expect. Her most trusted servant is her most dangerous enemy. Unprecedented! We will kill her in her home. Then the king. We must. War is looming. The south is quarrelsome.’

‘How so?’ I asked him.

He looked mysterious. ‘They say,’ he whispered, ‘that Malingborg is empty of armies. That several Hammer Legions have disappeared, and Aten’s Navy is unusually well fitted. And they say the king, our Danegell is not heeding the signs. That he will take our armies north with swords to punish our allies for trivial issues when he should send words of peace to them. No, next year will not do. Three months from now. Or we will all die.’ His passion was invigorating. Both Sand and I were nodding, feeling the great danger as the lord spoke of it. His haste was catching on. His daughter was facing danger, his family was. And the whole Red Midgard could fall like our family had.

‘Is there going to be war? With Ygrin?’ Sand asked. ‘Over some silly trade dispute with the Bay’s fishing?’

Balan shook in momentary indecision, fidgeting with impatience. Shaduril nodded at Balan, ever so slightly, and the high lord deigned to answer my friend. ‘I did tell my girls to save all who are close to Maskan, so I guess I should answer your questions, even if it is rude to address a lord with no respect and his title, Sand. As for the war, not only the two major allies of the Fringe—Ygrin and Falgrin—but the kings and dukes of Shalimar of Ice, Ollicas, Ranleigh, Kanninberg, and Urten have declined Danegell’s invite to celebrate Yule with us. That is traditionally the time the alliance of the north is ratified. The northern kingdoms are meeting separately, and Red Midgard will be alone. Because Danegell is going mad. He thinks to take the north before the High King, but this will end in our destruction. He is playing dangerous games. Against Ygrin, against those he dislikes, and angering his people by approving this cult—’

‘Of the One Man,’ Shaduril added helpfully.

Her father nodded and shook his head towards distant Dagnar. ‘In a way, I can understand him. It is because his son, the prince died twenty years ago during the Cataclysm, and I can understand such a thing might drive a man mad. But many others lost loved ones in the event.’ His eyes wandered over the moat to the ruins of the old keep. ‘In short, he no longer cares to govern Red Midgard and the alliance of the Fringe. But now, Maskan, you have a lot to learn. We will try our best to kill them all. I have some reluctant allies, and I am thinking about a plan on how to kill all of them, even the Brothers. There will be sacrifices—’ his eyes settled on my ring, and he stammered. Self-consciously, I hid it. He went on, speaking thinly and he was apparently preoccupied with my treasure. ‘Sacrifices. You will risk much, Maskan. Shaduril will as well. All my family will, in fact, if she fails. If you fail. I have given my daughter to the Beast of the North, a mad thing. Never forget that if you get cold feet.’

‘I shall not, Lord,’ I told him, my mind mulling over his words.
She is braver than I am,
I thought as I eyed the beautiful daughter of the Blacktowers. ‘What do you require of me? Exactly.’

He clapped my back. ‘The man you will replace, Falg Hardhand is the queen’s food taster.’

I nodded, uncertain if I enjoyed his hand on my shoulder. ‘I know. So, shall I first learn how to eat?’ I asked with some brevity.

‘Yes,’ he said sternly. ‘Of course. You are an actor in a once in a lifetime role. You have to be perfect. You have to be proficient in so many things, and your attitude, young man, is the first thing you must change. Be perfect, not an amateur. You have been messing around for far too long, you thug. Our company, an elegant house of Red Midgard, the nobles and lords and ladies, will do you good. You will learn manners and discipline,’ he said happily, ignoring Sand, who was standing on the side, forgotten. ‘We will marinate you in nobility, boy. Falg will pale in comparison when we are done. You will have to learn Falg’s ways, his manners, his faults, and his strengths. There is much more to this craft of subterfuge and lies than just taking a … face. As you probably discovered in the mint. You made a mess of it.’

I nodded, blushing. ‘I did.’

He smiled thinly. ‘So you will have to be perfect. The Brothers are not to be fooled easily, as you know,’ he added darkly. ‘And there are sure to be some in the queen’s house, though why would they doubt Falg? We will see. We have a man, our butler Gray, who used to serve in the king’s kitchens, and we know what Falg does and how. Of course, we don’t know if the queen has other uses for him. Some say he is her lover, perhaps as revenge for the king’s addiction to beautiful faces. She might, Maskan, enjoy his brews.’

‘But what if she requires …’ I began, and my voice faltered. Sand was wheezing in soft amusement.

‘If that is so, then you might want to consider killing her in bed,’ Balan told me practically. ‘Surely you know how to please a woman?’

‘Sweet gods,’ I sulked.

His eyes went large. ‘You do not?’

‘I am not comfortable with this subject,’ I whispered, blushing deeply.

‘Oh my,’ Balan said, distressed. ‘Surely you know how to take a piss, at least? Gods above and down, such a handsome boy and does not know his way around the bedchamber.’

Shaduril tittered brazenly, and I did not look at her, cursing the lord. ‘I—’

‘We will teach you,’ he said heavily. ‘I won’t, but we will,’ he added and looked at Shaduril. She shrugged.

‘I can think of a solution to it,’ she said, and I felt utterly left out of something that should be mine to decide. ‘Lith might know a suitable one. Perhaps we can hire a girl or—’

‘I’m sure I can manage this part on my own,’ I interrupted.

Balan chuckled.

Sand spat though not in my defense. He was seething with impatience, upset at being left out. ‘Lord. Would you share …’ he began, but Shaduril spun on him and shook her head furiously. He growled and went on. ‘Would you share the plan with us? Let’s say she dies, and even he. Let us assume it all goes well. What then? If we succeed, what shall we do next? Lord …’ Shaduril was groaning, and Sand stared sullenly at Balan.

‘Who will sit on the Rose Throne after we miraculously succeed in this plan?’ I asked him in support of Sand. ‘Is there such a plan?’

‘Yes,’ the lord said. ‘But I’ll share it with those I trust. Not with your friend. He should be happy there is a sanctuary like this for such as he.’ Balan slapped his hands as if to signal an end to the discussion, and Shaduril looked down. I shut my mouth, sensing it was time to do so. Shivers of fear ran up and down my back. The thin man was swallowing and shaking his head. He had a sort of feverish look on his face. ‘Rose Throne? I shall discuss that with you in a bit. As for the act of dealing with the queen, I cannot give you a sheet of instructions to memorize, no pointers what you need to do and how. You will use the skills we give you, your wits if they fail, and you will be as prepared as you can be. In addition to the ways of the nobles, you will have to figure out how to fight. You have to know how to fight very well, indeed.’

‘Why?’ I asked. ‘I’m to be a cake taster. Is this man grossly fat?’

Balan smiled, I think, but it was a fleeting smile. ‘He does not gobble up the queen’s foods, boy. He tastes them. But he is fit and healthy and ready to fight for the Danegells as well as keep the queen safe from poisoning. And so will you. You will learn how to fight and how to kill. Not only will you take Falg’s face, but you will also take his savage reputation. He will attend a fight in the Dark Sands that fateful afternoon, and he will do well. He always does, though few know him, or his real name when he escapes to have this fun for a while. Lith, you, my men will deal with him. But you will need to know how to do even a portion of what he does, for you will take his sword and ax, and you cannot drop them with foolish incompetence. You must swagger as you walk, hold your hands over your weapons with cold familiarity. You have to play the part, as I said. And who knows; perhaps you have to fight while serving the queen. Briefly, but still.’