The Red Knight (49 page)

She hid her head.

‘Get dressed. Michael. It’s full light, and when that poor young woman walks down the steps to the courtyard, every person in the fortress will know where she’s been; either
with you, with me, or with Toby. Perhaps with all three. Toby at least has the virtue of being her own age.’

Michael was trying to put his dagger away.

‘I love her!’ he said hotly.

‘Wonderful. That love is about to bring down a mountain of consequences that may end in your no longer being in my employ.’ The captain was angry.

‘At least she’s not a nun!’ Michael said.

That stopped the captain. And filled him with black rage; in a moment, he went from a distant, weary amusement to the flat desire to kill. He was struggling not to draw a weapon. Or use his
fists. Or his power.

Michael took a step back and Toby placed himself between the captain and the squire.

Heavy, strong arms suddenly encircled the captain from behind. He thrashed, angry beyond sense, but he couldn’t break the grip. He tried to plant his feet and headbutt his adversary, but
the man lifted him straight off the floor.

‘Whoa!’ said Bad Tom. ‘Whoa there!’

‘His eyes are glowing!’ Michael said, and his voice was trembling, Kaitlin Lanthorn cowering in the corner.

Tom spun the captain and slapped him clear across the face.

There was a pause. The captain’s power hung in the air – palpable even to non-talents. Kaitlin Lanthorn saw it as a cloud of golden green around his head.

‘Let go of me, Tom,’ said the captain.

Tom put his feet on the ground. ‘What was that about?’

‘My idiot squire deflowered a local virgin, for sport.’ The captain took a deep breath.

‘I love her!’ Michael shouted. Fear made his voice high and whiney.

‘Like enough,’ Tom said. ‘I love all the women I fuck, too.’ He grinned. ‘She’s just one of the Lanthorn sluts. No damage done.’

Kaitlin burst into tears.

The captain shook his head. ‘The Abbess—’ he began.

Tom nodded. ‘Aye. She won’t take it well.’ He looked at Michael. ‘I won’t ask you what you were thinkin’, ’cause I can guess it well enough.’

‘Get him out of my sight,’ the captain said. ‘Toby, get the girl dressed and get her . . . I don’t know. Can you get her out of here without everyone seeing?’

Toby nodded soberly. ‘Aye,’ he said, eager to help. Toby didn’t like it when his heroes were angry, especially not with each other.

The captain had a splitting headache, and he wasn’t even into the day yet.

‘What are you doing here, anyway?’ he asked Tom.

‘Sauce has a patrol out and there’s the remnants of a convoy in the Bridge Castle,’ Tom said. ‘Bad news.’

Sauce reported an hour later, handing a child down off the saddlebow of her war horse and saluting her captain crisply.

‘Twenty-three wagons. All burned. Sixty corpses found, not yet ripe, and not much of a fight.’ She shrugged. ‘Slightly chewed.’ She lowered her voice, as there were
dozens of people in earshot, all looking for news. ‘Many eaten down to sinew and bone, Captain.’

The captain fingered his beard, looked at the desperate people surrounding his horse, and knew that any morale won by his raids on the enemy camp was now dissipated in a fresh wave of
terror.

‘Back to your work,’ the captain called.

‘We ain’t got no work!’ a man shouted, and the crowd in the courtyard rumbled angrily.

The captain had mounted in anticipation of taking out a patrol. He was restless and depressed himself, and craved action – anything to distract him.

But he was the captain. He nodded to Gelfred. ‘Go north, and move fast. You know what we want.’

He swung one spurred foot over Grendel’s back and slid from the saddle. ‘Wilful Murder, Sauce, on me. The rest of you – well done. Get some rest.’

He led them inside. Michael dismounted too, looking as furious as the captain felt having lost an opportunity to substitute honest fear for nagging terror. He clearly knew that he now had no
opportunity to expiate his sin. But he took his own destrier and the captain’s and headed for the stable without untoward comment.

Sister Miram – the heaviest and thus most easily identified of the sisters – was passing through the courtyard with a basket of sweet bread for the children. The captain caught her
eye, and waved.

‘The Abbess will want to hear this,’ he said to her. She put a biscuit in his hand with a look that might have curdled milk – a look of blanket disapproval.

There was a slip of vellum underneath it.

Meet me tonight

A bolt of lightning shot through him.

The Abbess arrived while he was still standing in his solar. He’d just stripped off his gauntlets and placed them on the sideboard, his helmet was still on his head. Sauce took it from
him, and he turned to find the Abbess, hands clasped loosely in front of her, wimple starched and perfect, eyes bright.

The captain had to smile, but she did not return it.

He sighed. ‘We’ve lost another convoy coming to the fair – six leagues to the west, on the Albinkirk road. More than sixty dead. The survivors are panicking your people, and
they aren’t helping mine much.’ He sighed. ‘In among them are refugees from Albinkirk, which, I am sorry to report, has fallen to the Wild.’

To Sauce, he said, ‘In future, no matter how badly off they are, take new refugees to Ser Milus. Let him keep their ravings contained.’

Sauce nodded. ‘I should have thought—’ she said wearily.

The captain cut her off. ‘No, I should have thought of it, Sauce.’

Wilful Murder shook his head. ‘It’s worse than you think, Captain. You’re not from around here, eh?’

The captain gave the archer a long look, and Wilful quailed.

‘Sorry, ser,’ he said.

‘It happens that I know the mountains to the north well enough,’ the captain said quietly.

Wilful was not so easily put down though. He produced something from his purse and put it on the table.

The Abbess turned as white as parchment when she saw it.

The captain raised an eyebrow.

‘Abenacki,’ he said.

‘Or Quost, or most likely Sassog.’ Wilful nodded respectfully. ‘So you
are
from around here.’

‘How many?’ the captain asked.

Wilful shook his head. ‘At least one. What kind of question is that?’ The feather he had placed on the table – a heron feather – was decorated with elaborate quillwork
from a porcupine, the quills dyed bright red and carefully woven up the stem of the feather.

Wilful looked around, and then, like a conjuror, produced a second item, very like the first in look – a small pouch, decorated with complex leather braids. When his audience looked blank,
he grinned his broken-toothed grin. ‘Irks. Five feet of muscle and all of it mean. They make amazing stuff. Fey folk, my mother used to call them.’ He looked at the Abbess. ‘They
like to eat women.’

‘That’s enough, Wilful.’

‘Just saying. And there was tracks.’ He shrugged.

‘Nicely done, Wilful. Now give me some quiet.’ The captain pushed his chin towards the door.

Wilful might have been surly, but he found a silver leopard pushed across the table to him, too. He bit it, grinned and left.

The captain glanced at the Abbess as soon as they were alone. ‘What’s going on here?’ he asked in his pleasant but professional voice. ‘This isn’t the random
violence of the Wild, an isolated incident, a murder, a couple of creatures come over the wall on a rampage. This is a war. Daemons, wyverns, irks and now the Outwallers. All we seem to lack is a
few boglins, a goblin or two, and then maybe the Dragon will enter the field too. Abbess, if you know anything, I think this is the time to tell me.’

She met his gaze. ‘I can make some educated guesses,’ she said. Her lips curled down. ‘I gather that the youngest Lanthorn girl spent the night here?’ she said
archly.

‘Yes she did. I raped her repeatedly and threw her naked into the courtyard in the morning,’ the captain said. His annoyance showed. ‘Damn it, this matters.’

‘And Kaitlin Lanthorn doesn’t? My Jesu says she matters as much as you do, ser knight. As much as I do. Perhaps more. And spare me your posturing, boy. I know why you’re so
touchy. She spent the night with your squire. I know. I have just spent a few minutes with the girl. We spoke about this.’ She looked at him. ‘Will he marry her?’

‘You can’t be serious,’ the captain said. ‘He’s the son of a great lord. He may be on the outs with his family just now, but they’ll forgive him soon enough.
His kind doesn’t marry farm sluts.’

‘She was a virgin a few days ago,’ the Abbess said. ‘Calling her a whore doesn’t make her one. Nor does it make you stand any better in my sight.’

‘Fine,’ said the captain. ‘She’s a fine upstanding lass with impeccable morals and my nasty squire got her to bed. I’ll see to it that he pays for it – both
morally and financially. Now can we please talk about the true threat here?’

‘Maybe we already are. So far, no creature of the Wild has done so much harm as your men have done,’ the Abbess said.

‘Untrue, my lady. I swear on my word: I will see to it justice is done for this young woman. I confess that she looked quite unsluttish this morning, and very young. I am embarrassed my
squire has acted in such a way.’

‘Like master, like man,’ the Abbess said.

The captain clenched his fists. He mastered himself, unclenched them, and steepled his hands instead.

‘I think you are avoiding the topic. Sister Hawisia was murdered. Her murder was planned. Perhaps she was the target – perhaps you were. The daemon that did the killing had inside
help. The men who helped the daemon then fell out among themselves and one killed the other, burying his body on the west road. Shortly after, we arrived. We found a wyvern and killed it. Gelfred
and I found a pair of daemons; one died and the other escaped. We scouted and found an army forming under a powerful sorcerer. As of this morning, the woods around us are full of enemies and the
road to Albinkirk is cut. Albinkirk has fallen to the Wild, and I put it to you, my lady, that you know more than you are telling me. What is really going on here?’

She turned her head away. ‘I know nothing,’ she said, in a tone that merely showed that she was a poor liar.

‘You cut down the sacred grove? Your farmers are raping dryads? By all you hold holy, my lady Abbess, if you do not help me understand this, we’re all going to die here. This is a
full invasion, the first that has been seen since your youth. Where have they come from? Has the north fallen? Why has the Wild come here in such strength? I grew up with the Wall. I’ve been
to Outwaller villages, eaten their food. There are far more than we admit – tens of thousands. If they have come to support the Wild directly, we will be swept away in the sea of foes. So
what
exactly
is happening here?’

The Abbess took a breath as if to steady herself, succeeded, and raised an eyebrow. ‘Really, Captain, I have no more idea than you. The actions of the savages are beyond me. And the Wild
is just a name we give to an amalgam of evil, is it not? Is it not sufficient that we are holy, and seek to preserve ourselves, our God, and our way of life? And they seek to take that from
us?’

The captain met her gaze and shook his head. ‘You know more than that. The Wild is not so simple.’

‘It hates us,’ the Abbess said.

‘That’s no reason to mass against you now,’ replied the captain.

‘There’s burned trees and new fields out east toward Albinkirk,’ Sauce said.

The Abbess turned, as if to reprimand the woman, but shrugged. ‘We have to expand as our people expand. More peasants to feed required more fields.’

The captain looked at Sauce. ‘How many burned trees? I don’t remember them.’

‘They’re not right along the road. I don’t know – ask Gelfred.’

‘They go all the way to Albinkirk,’ the Abbess admitted. ‘We agreed to burn the forest between us and bring in more farmers. What of it? It was the old king’s policy, and
we need that land.’

The captain nodded. ‘It was the old king’s policy, and it led to the Battle of Chevin.’ He rubbed his beard. ‘I hope that one of my messengers made it to the king,
because right now we’re in a whole heap of shit.’

Michael came in with cups of wine. He flushed very red when he saw the Abbess.

The captain glanced at him. ‘All officers, Michael. Get Ser Milus from the Bridge Castle too.’

Michael sighed, served the wine, and left again.

The Abbess pursed her lips. ‘You wouldn’t abandon us,’ she said, but it was more a question than a statement.

The captain was looking through his window to the west. ‘No, my lady, I wouldn’t. But you must have known there would be a response.’

She shook her head, anger warring with frustration. ‘By Saint Thomas and Saint Maurice, Captain, you task me too heavily! I did no more than was my right, even my duty. The Wild was beaten
– or so I’m told by both the sheriff and the king. Why should I not expand my holdings at the cost of some old trees? And when the killing started – Captain, understand that I had
no idea that the killings were connected, not until—’

The captain leaned forward. ‘Let me tell you what I think,’ he said. ‘Hawisia unmasked a traitor, and died for it.’

The Abbess nodded. ‘It is possible. She asked to go to the outholdings when, ordinarily, I would have gone.’

‘She was your chancellor? The post Sister Miram holds now?’ he asked.

She shook her head. ‘No. She had more power then the other sisters, but she was too young to hold an office.’

‘And she was widely disliked,’ Sauce said.

The Abbess flinched, but she didn’t deny it.

The captain had his head in his hands. ‘Never mind. We’re here now and so are they. It’s my guess that the Jacks, or the daemons, or both, were going to kill
you
and
seize the Abbey in a coup de main; Hawisia ruined it all somehow, either by confronting the traitor or by taking your place. We may never know.’ He shook his head.

The Abbess looked at her hands. ‘I loved her,’ she said.

The Red Knight knelt by her and put his hands on hers. ‘I swear I will do my best to hold this fortress and save you. But, my lady, I still feel you know something more. There is something
personal about all this, and you still have a traitor within your walls.’ When she didn’t answer him, he got up from his knee. She kissed his cheek, and he smiled. He handed her a cup
of wine.