Her husband escorted her to her quarters. When they got there she stopped, stood on her tiptoes and kissed him gently on the cheek, hoping he didn’t mind her hot, glowing skin.
‘Enjoy the evening? I trust it did not offend your delicate Tanarese sensibilities?’ He was smiling at her.
‘That I did,’ she replied. ‘The parts of it I could understand anyway.’
‘Good, it was more for them than for you, I’m afraid. Tomorrow we are going into the low woods to hunt boar.’
‘Poor old boars,’ she said. ‘Why is it always them?’
‘A worthy opponent,’ said Wulfthram. ‘I have seen many people hurt badly by them in the past, even killed. Besides, you never object to eating them.’
‘I suppose so,’ she said. ‘It is hypocritical of me to say such things.’
‘And then, weather permitting, the fleet should arrive in about three days and the council can begin in earnest. And then our troubles really begin.’
‘It is going to be difficult this one, isn’t it?’ she said warily.
‘Yes.’ He sounded weary. ‘I fear it will degenerate into one big argument between pro- and anti-Tanaren factions with nothing resolved. I may be forced into taking sides and
annoying more people than I usually do. Right now, though, all I want is a good night’s sleep. I feel exhausted already’
‘That is a shame! I may have been hoping for a little more from you. I actually have breasts now, for the first time ever, and you are just not taking advantage of them while they
last.’
‘Then tonight it will be my loss. As soon as this lot heads back home, though, we shall see about putting things right.’ He gently stroked her forehead and teased a strand of hair
loose from its pin until it hung loosely over her temple.
‘Sleep well then, my husband; you will need all your strength for what is to come, I know. I will do whatever I can to help you, however little it may be.’
‘Well, you are invited to every meeting this time; I have learned the error of my ways.’
She giggled. ‘You don’t want to feel the sharp edge of my tongue?’
‘Oh behave yourself,’ he laughed softly. ‘Wait a few days, as I said. Oh and that necklace, from your father, I presume?’
‘Either him or a secret admirer. Do you like it?’
‘It’s beautiful obviously. I am not sure I can compete with the finest Tanaren goldsmiths; there is nothing of such quality up here, though I believe your father is extending a
formal invitation to a few of us to travel back with him, so maybe I will see something then.’
She smiled a smile of absolute radiance, guaranteed to melt the stoniest heart.
‘Oh, Wulf, there is no need. I am really not that shallow to be bought with trinkets, although sometimes admittedly it can help. It is the last piece he will give me. In a way it marks the
end of something. There was a time when the best dresses and adornments were everything to me; now I have you and this’ – she patted her stomach – ‘I know we will always
have my ... problem hanging over us but the amulet I wear works, so we can live our lives as the Gods intended still. It is not so bad ... really it isn’t!’
Wulfthram again played with the loose ringlet hanging from her brow.
‘Yes, it is a question of looking at what we do have rather than what we do not. That is what the priests would tell us anyway. Sleep well, little Ceri. Another busy day
tomorrow.’
They kissed gently. ‘Gods watch over you, Wulf.’
‘And you. Always.’
Back in her room she felt suddenly exhausted. Even washing her face in a bowl of icy cold water didn’t help. She had removed her shoulder bandage earlier and now, fully dressed, flushed
and damp, she fell flat on her back on the bed and was asleep in seconds, completely oblivious to the world around her.
In a different, smaller room an hour or so later lay a man who was definitely not asleep. As the nascent moon shone its light through his window directly on to his bed Vorfgan
kicked off the sheet and looked at the sleeping girl next to him. Both were naked and for a while he looked at the way the light played over her body with a casual curiosity. She was one of the
serving girls he had inherited with his new baronetcy. He knew she hated him, but she was pragmatic – she knew that giving him what he wanted was in her own best interests – and so he
took full advantage, even enjoying the way she gritted her teeth as he did what he wished with her. He liked that hard-nosed realism; he wished he had more of it himself but without dreams, and the
determination to fulfil them, it was nothing.
Sighing he rolled off the bed and started to dress himself, pulling on his breeches and shirt, then the leather jerkin. He strapped on his knife then went to the lantern on the side table. He
lit it, then closed its hood, lay back on the bed and waited.
Not for long as it turned out. He had barely shut his eyes when it came. The single bell ringing from the house of Artorus half a mile away. It chimed hourly, as all those churches did, day or
night, and was just what he needed for his plans.
He took the lantern to the window, lifted it close and pulled the hood back once, twice, then three times, and replaced it on the table. Then, after a brief wait, from somewhere out on a moor
which was little more than a slab of brooding darkness to his eyes, came the answering signal, three short flashes of light. He picked up his lantern and repeated his earlier signal, this time
getting an immediate response. He blew out the flame and put the lantern down. Its job had been done. He finished dressing, pulled out his dagger, checked its edge with his thumb then gave out a
long deep breath.
He slapped the girl on her backside, eliciting a sharp squeal.
‘Get dressed, wait an hour or two, then get down to your room on the harbour. You won’t want to be staying out here tonight.’
Without another word he opened his door, checked the corridor and started to stride towards the building’s main entrance.
It was time.
Haelward stretched. He was cramped and uncomfortable and started moaning to himself at the coldness of the dawn. When he had climbed into it the previous night, most of the
space in the wagon was already occupied by packs, equipment and the prone comatose forms of Willem and Alys and so he found himself forced to curl up in a tiny space against the wagon’s side
where he could not settle and where his blanket never seemed to cover him fully. His sleep therefore was fitful at best, and as soon as light started to peer over the horizon he determined to get
up, stretch his legs, and see what the dawn had to bring.
The day was crisp and clear, with a thin dusting of frost on the hard ground. His boots crunched as he hopped on to the roadside, his muscles protesting at every move. At the other side of the
road was a narrow gully which housed a cheerful little brook which was now half frozen, its surface glassed over. He ambled over there, both to swill his face and to empty his bladder, his bleary
mind half hoping he was doing this in the right order.
He heard, or half heard, the sound of footsteps behind him that were not his own. Was it Willem? His mind was so full of cobwebs that it did not immediately register that it might be a threat.
Not until it was far too late. The footsteps speeded up and he was about to turn and see what was going on when there was an impact on the back of his head so powerful his legs instantly gave out
from under him. As he fell poleaxed, face down on to the stony path, the only word going through his head was ‘cudgel’. He vaguely thought he could hear screaming and the sounds of a
struggle, but consciousness left him long before he could make sense of anything other than the smell of earth and the taste of blood in his mouth. All he could feel was cold, and then nothing at
all.
Finally he came to. Pain lanced through the back his head and then through his bloodied chin, which had taken the full impact of his fall, causing his teeth to grind together and bite his
tongue. He opened his eyes slowly; even the light hurt them. Gradually he eased himself on to his haunches and then he unhurriedly managed to stand fully upright. What by the furnace had happened
here? He had no idea of how long he had lain there but his fingers were numb with cold and the feeling had gone from his toes. He made his way to the wagon and pulled the canvas to one side. It was
as he feared – no people, goods and equipment ransacked, and clear signs of a struggle. Concern for his two charges started to well up inside him. His sword, damaged beyond repair in Oxhagen,
he had decided to replace in Tanaren City; he never envisaged having to need it before then. He reached into the wagon and retrieved his hunting knife, almost a foot long and deadly sharp.
Some footprints still remained on the ground as the frost had not yet disappeared. There had been a fight. There were several pairs of booted feet and the pattern seemed to indicate that there
were four men taking on one, the one probably being Willem. There was some spattered blood on the ground not yet congealed. He hadn’t been out that long, then.
Suddenly there was a noise causing him to snap to and whirl around looking for unseen foes. It was a cross between a groan and a sob and it was coming from ... the ditch.
Moving as fast as his legs could carry him he reached it and saw Willem, bloodied, wet and miserable, lying on the frozen stream. His one eye was bloodshot and he looked up at Haelward
despairingly.
‘They’ve taken Alys!’ he said through chattering teeth. ‘I couldn’t stop them. They’ve taken her.’
‘All right,’ said Haelward kindly. ‘Tell me in a minute; let’s get you out of here first.’
Gingerly, he eased the younger man on to his feet and slowly pulled him out of the ditch. Willem was in a worse state than he was – his scalp was cut and his face bruised purple. He was
also limping.
‘Let’s get a fire going...’ Haelward started.
‘No, no, they’ve taken her. We have to get her back!’
‘Which is something you are in no state to do until I have had a look at you and you have warmed up a little.’
Ignoring his own battered frame, Haelward got a fire going quickly. He then took some bandages from his pack and roughly covered the top of Willem’s head before rubbing a brown poultice
over his bruises. Then it was time for some water and travel rations. When that was all sorted he finally asked Willem what had happened.
‘We were both fast asleep. I heard someone climbing into the wagon and thought it was you. Then I look up to see this man, a big fellow with a beard. He thumps me one and then both he and
someone else made a grab for Alys. She fought like a demon biting and scratching; I joined in then they called another man in. The bearded man gave me a kicking as they pulled Alys out of the
wagon. Then they followed, leaving me alone. I wasn’t having that and as soon as I got my wind back I got out of the wagon and started to take them on again. Two men held Alys, while four had
a go at me. It was not a fair fight and they ended up chucking me where you found me. Then they left with Alys about twenty minutes before you found me. They tied her and put her in their own wagon
before driving off.’
‘So that would be about an hour ago now and there were six of them.’ Haelward was going over things slowly in his mind. ‘Did they talk to each other? Give any indication as to
where they were going?’
‘Not really, they did mention a town about a couple of miles up the road but I got the impression they were moving on from there pretty quickly. What by all the Gods would they want with
Alys? She has no money; neither does her family.’
Haelward hesitated, unsure of how to put his suspicions into words.
‘It looks like an organised gang. Bandits. If there is money to be made, especially dubious money, you get these people. They are like fungus on dead wood; they spring up everywhere.
Let’s get to this town and ask around. I hope they have a blacksmith; I need a sword.’
It was not really a town, more a large village surrounded by a stockade. It clung to the road like a new-born to its mother. It had a large coaching inn, a house of Artorus and Meriel, a
magistrate’s house and, to Haelward’s immense relief, a smithy. They went there first, Haelward emerging shortly after with a sturdy no-frills blade, well oiled within its leather
scabbard.
‘Now to the inn,’ he said.
It was a well-used place, obviously a popular watering hole with travellers heading to and from Tanaren City; clean and warm with a roaring fire blazing merrily away in the hearth. At this
moment in time, though, it was almost empty – just four or five men scattered at various tables around the large room. Haelward indicated where three tables had been pulled together so at
least half a dozen men could sit around it with ease. It was empty now, though. Haelward headed to the bar, calling the innkeeper over.
‘Do you want a room, lads?’ He looked harassed, despite the lack of clientele.
‘No, thank you,’ said Haelward politely. ‘I was wondering if you had seen a group of about six men in here recently; they may have sat over there.’ He indicated the
cluster of tables.
‘And they may have had a girl ... I mean a young woman with them,’ piped in Willem.
‘No, lads, it’s been quiet here as you can see.’ The man’s nervousness was obvious.
‘Are you sure? They wouldn’t have been here long; just a drink and a bite to eat, I imagine’ Haelward leaned closer to the man.
‘N...no, there has been no one.’
‘I see.’ Haelward started to speak a little more loudly, so everyone in the room could hear him. He also audibly slid his sword part way out of the scabbard.
‘Think carefully. I am not a common bandit. I have spent all of my adult life serving the Grand Duke’s army. I have fought in the east, in the west, at sea and in the capital itself.
This boy with me looks a little callow but uses a knife like it was an extension of his right arm. So I will ask again: have a large group of men been in here recently?’
The man glanced behind Haelward, at some of the men sitting at the tables. He swallowed and said again: ‘No, I am sorry but I cannot help you.’
‘Very well,’ said Haelward. ‘I will go and speak with the magistrate, see what he says about those who willingly harbour bandits.’ He turned and left, nudging Willem with
his shoulder so that he followed.