A Sellsword's Valor Page 13

  The club owner laughed pleasantly. “I might ask you the same question. Is it typical, I wonder, for princesses to spend their time practicing fighting instead of learning to play the harp or to sew? To stand around sweating in shirt and trousers and armor rather than swooning in silk dresses and shoes so fine they’d break if you so much as thought about running in them?”

  “Music and quilts won’t help us in what’s coming,” Adina said, “and I never could stomach heels. They make me feel as if I’m some strange bird walking around with my chest puffed out.”

  May raised a delicate eyebrow. “Not that it needs any puffing, I’m sure.”

  “May,” Adina said, scandalized.

  The club owner grinned. “Oh, I’m sure you’ve heard worse than that since meeting our mutual friend and sellsword. Or, perhaps,” she said, winking, “better than that, depending on the circumstances.”

  Adina felt her face flush with heat, and did her best to keep her voice calm despite her embarrassment. “What can I help you with, May?”

  “I was wondering if we could talk. It seems,” she said, glancing Adina up and down, “that there are some few things we might talk about.”

  Adina glanced back at Captain Gant who raised his own helmet and wiped an arm across his sweaty forehead as if relieved. “That’s more than alright with me, Princess. I’m an old man now, and an old man needs to take a rest. All this swinging swords around and walking around in armor, and I can just about hear my bones creaking, begging for a break.”

  Adina laughed at that. “I remember you saying much the same when I was a child in my father’s castle. How old were you then, I wonder? Mid-twenties, perhaps? Twenty four or so?”

  Brandon smiled widely. “Sounds about right, Princess, but a really old twenty four. Anyway, you take your time and have your talk. When you come back, I’ll probably be passed out on the ground, but I’ll make sure to find someone who doesn’t mind getting his ass kicked by a princess. In fact,” he said, rubbing a hand over the gray, bristling hair on his chin, “considering our conversation, I think I’ve got just the lad for the job.”

  “Fine,” Adina said, grinning, “but see if he can’t be slightly less sexist than his captain, won’t you? I’d really hate to have to educate two fools at once.”

  The captain winked. “I’ll try, Princess, but it is an army, and they are soldiers.”

  Adina shook her head ruefully then turned to May. She pulled her helmet off, grateful for the opportunity to take a break from the hot and sweaty metal. She gave her damp hair a shake, “Alright, what is it?”

  The club owner whistled. “Damn, but if I looked like you, Princess, I’d rule the world, and make no mistake. I’d be careful, maybe try to look a little uglier, if you can. The gods know I can go up a set of steep stairs and look like a sick, gasping cow by the end of them. You keep on like you are, you’ll have hundreds of soldiers lined up to practice with a princess, but they’ll have their minds less on using the sword in their hand than the one in their trousers.”

  “May,” Adina scolded again, her face heating. The red haired woman only grinned, and Adina cleared her throat. “Anyway, there’s something you wished to speak to me about?”

  May nodded, her smile slowly fading. “Walk with me, Princess.”

  They made their way away from the inner courtyard of the castle toward a bench sitting beside a large fountain. Seeing the water cascading down it made Adina realize just how thirsty she truly was, and she wondered amusedly what Gryle would think if he were to come to check on her and see his princess slopping water out of a fountain like a pig at a trough.

  “Sword practice in the morning,” May said, her tone quiet as if she was speaking to herself, “archery in the early afternoon, and horsemanship training late into the evening. If you don’t mind my saying so, Princess, it seems to me that that’s an awful lot of training.”

  “It is,” Adina said, feeling defensive, “and what’s wrong with that?”

  “Oh nothing,” the club owner said, “nothing at all. Except, a man—or a woman—generally practices a thing when he or she intends to do it. Men train in arms and combat, noblewomen try on dresses and shoes—at least some noblewomen do,” she said, glancing at Adina’s dirty and sweat covered clothes askance, “priests wear their robes and say their prayers, and they all do it in preparation for a battle of one sort or another.” She stopped and met Adina’s gaze. “Tell me, princess, what battle is it that you’re preparing for?” She held up a hand as if to forestall a comment. “And don’t tell me that all of this,” she said, gesturing expansively at the courtyard and Adina’s training clothes, “is for Belgarin and his army. We don’t even know if he is going to attack, no matter what Aaron says, and besides, there seems to be a certain sense of urgency about you that wasn’t there before.”

  Adina considered the woman. May might sometimes come off as a simple, kind-hearted matronly figure—if somewhat lewd when the opportunity arose—but she was much more than that. May not only ran the most successful club in the Downs and was a rival who was respected and feared even by Grinner and Hale, the district’s two most powerful crime lords, but she had also been the leader of an underground rebellion against Belgarin long before Avarest ever considered taking a stance in the war. She was intelligent, resourceful, courageous, and—if some of the stories Aaron had told her were true—merciless and uncompromising when necessary.

  “I warn you, May,” Adina said, gathering her courage and meeting the club owner’s gaze, “I will not be stopped in what I am doing. I am no pitiful wife to sit at home weeping while she prays for her husband’s safe return, nor am I some child to hide under the bed and be comforted and lied to while the adults fight and die outside her bedroom. I am a princess born, a daughter of the late King Marcus, and I will fight, will die, if necessary, to protect Telrear and its people.”

  The club owner studied her for a moment then finally nodded. “I had hoped you’d say as much. You are your father’s daughter, Princess, and that’s the truth. And if your sword arm is half as strong as your heart then your brother should be the one hiding under his bed, if he knows what’s good for him.”

  Adina smiled at that, surprised that the club owner hadn’t tried to talk her down. “So you don’t intend to stop me?”

  May laughed. “Stop you? Princess, to stop you, I’d first have to know what it is that you’re doing—I would like to know, by the way—and besides, that’s not why I came. Not at all. I didn’t come to stop you, Princess. I came to help you.”

  Adina frowned, “Help me?”

  May nodded, and they made their way to the bench and sat. “Whatever it is you’re intending to do,” May said, “I’d like to help. Particularly if it gets me away from the castle for a little while. I swear by the gods, if I have to listen to Hale’s posturing and boasting or Grinner’s grumbling for one more day, I’ll kill them both and do Belgarin’s work for him.”

  Adina laughed but thinking of what she intended to do she quickly sobered. “What I plan…it’s dangerous, May. It’s necessary, I think, and worth the risk, but there is risk.”

  May met her eyes. “Now who is treating who like a scared child, Princess? Why don’t you just tell me what it is you’ve got planned, and I’ll tell you my thoughts on it.”

  Adina sighed, nodding slowly. “Very well. You’ve heard, of course, that my kingdom was taken from me by a rebellion among my nobles?”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  Adina hesitated, then finally spoke. “The coup was perpetrated by the commander of my armies as well as several high members of the castle staff and a few nobles. Had they not approached Gryle to ask for his aid, I would have been killed then, for it was only due to his warning that I was able to escape the city in time. The people know nothing of it, of course. They were told that I died in a riding accident when my horse went wild and trampled me. By my reckoning, there were only a handful of people involved in the coup, but all the right people, men and
women who were close enough to the throne to add veracity to the fiction that I was dead.” She paused before she spoke again and when she did she was surprised by the anger in her own voice. “Their leader was General Ridell, the commander of my armies and a man who I had always considered a close friend.”

  “Approaching the leader of the armies…it does sound well within your brother Belgarin’s usual methodology.”

  “Yes,” Adina said, her eyes cold and hard, “it does. You cannot imagine what it’s like, May, to know that all my people—people whom I love—think that I am dead. You cannot comprehend what it’s like to sit here while I know they are forced to endure the rule of that pretender. That traitor sits on my throne while I hide in my sister’s kingdom.”

  “To be fair, Princess,” May said, “you’ve had just a few things going on to occupy you. And anyway, you still haven’t told me what you plan.”

  Adina turned to May, and there was no doubt or uncertainty in her eyes, not now. “I intend to take my kingdom back, May.”

  “And how will you do such a thing?” May asked. “Will you order your late brother Ellemont’s troops to attack your own city? Your own kingdom? For as I understand it, your brother gave over rule of his kingdom to you upon his death.”

  “No,” Adina said, shaking her head adamantly, “innocent people would die in the fighting, and the people of Galia have suffered enough. Besides, the troops are needed here in case Belgarin’s armies attack from the east, and Galia is several weeks’ travel in the wrong direction. No,” she said again, “this has to be done a different way. I aim to go myself.”

  “But not alone though, surely,” May said, frowning. “I’ve known you for some time, Princess, and I’d like to think you’re smarter than Aaron to go rushing off on your own trying to get yourself killed.”

  “I’m not going alone, May,” Adina said, “I’ve already spoken to Gryle about it.”

  May arched an eyebrow. “The chamberlain? I’m not questioning his loyalty, Adina—the gods know that man would light himself on fire, if you asked him to. But do you really think that’s a good idea? The man’s more nervous than a priestess in a whorehouse. Now, I’ll grant you that with the Virtue of Strength he’s strong, incredibly so, but last I checked, the man couldn’t so much as sit in a chair without breaking it.”

  “Maybe it’s not a good idea,” Adina admitted, “but do you really think I could stop him from coming, even if I wanted to?”

  “No,” May said, sighing, “no, I don’t. Still, I love Gryle as much as anyone, but the man’s not exactly a fighter. And anyway, what do you plan on doing once you’re in the city? Seems to me that what you believed then still holds true now—the best that can be said is that if you step up and declare yourself, you won’t have to worry about Belgarin or Boyce Kevlane anymore.” She leaned in, “Because you’ll be dead, you see.”

  Adina sighed, running a hand through her long hair. “I’m not committing suicide, May, and I wouldn’t go if I didn’t think there was a real chance of accomplishing something. As I told you, there are those in the city and the castle who plotted against me, but there are more still who would rally behind me, if only they knew I am alive. Or, at least,” she said, her expression growing troubled, “I believe they would.”

  “People such as who?”

  “Captain Oliver, for one,” Adina said, “Ridell’s second in command. He served under my father. He’ll back my claim; I’m almost sure of it. And the troops in the army have little love for General Ridell, a man who has always spent far too much time wining and dining rich noblewomen instead of strengthening his command. If they’re shown the truth, I’m almost certain that they’ll turn on Ridell and the others.”

  May frowned. “That’s a lot of ‘ifs’ and ‘almosts’ for a princess who will be recognized on sight, and a chamberlain who is more likely to faint than fight, if it comes to it. And how do you plan on speaking to this Captain Oliver without Ridell or one of the others noticing, anyway? It seems to me that he’ll be around the general mostly, or at the castle, and it doesn’t strike me as particularly clever to strut into the castle asking after the captain.”

  “As for the castle, I know it better than anyone, save perhaps Gryle himself. And say what you will about him, Gryle knows every single person in the castle by name, knows their stories and their pasts, as he made it a point to speak with and interview everyone all the way down to the lowliest scullery maid before allowing them to work in the castle.”

  “What about these traitors?” May said. “Interviewed them, did he?”

  Adina shook her head, clearly frustrated. “I’m going, May, with or without your help. You know as well as I do that even with Ellemont’s troops, even with Avarest’s, Belgarin’s army is still greater than our own, never mind Boyce Kevlane and whatever evil he is up to.”

  “I know you are, Princess,” May said, “and I’m going with you. I only wanted to make sure that you had thought through the dangers, that’s all.”

  Adina nodded and let out a tired sigh of her own as she leaned back against the bench. “I’m sorry, May. I don’t mean to snap at you. I’m just frustrated, that’s all. Aaron and the others have been gone nearly two weeks, and all I’ve been doing is sitting on my hands and worrying myself half to death. I’m tired of waiting and hoping for things to happen. It’s time that I did my part, and the troops that Galia can provide would be a great help in the coming battle.”

  “It’s alright,Princess,” May said, patting her hand, “I’ve had much worse than that, I assure you. And I understand. I’ve never been much for sitting around and waiting for a man to fix my problems myself. Still, speaking of Silent, how do you think he’ll feel about all this?”

  Adina shrugged. “I don’t know, May. Aaron means…” She felt her face heat but didn’t look away from the club owner’s eyes. “He means much to me. But I won’t cower and do nothing while people suffer. I can’t. Besides, if we’re lucky we can be to Galia and back before he and the others return.”

  May studied the woman’s steady gaze for several seconds then finally nodded. “Alright, Princess. I agree with you. As for Silent, he’d no doubt have some grim pronouncement to make about the whole thing but then that man would have a grim pronouncement to make about breakfast, so that’s as may be. Still, when do you plan on leaving?”

  Adina shrugged. “Another day or two, no more than that. The sooner we go, the sooner we can get it done, one way or the other.”

  May nodded. “Okay, but I wonder if you wouldn’t let me look around. You’re right that bringing an army to Galia would be a bad thing, but surely a group of three or four travelers wouldn’t arouse any suspicion, and it would give us some help we’ll most likely need.”

  Adina considered that. “Alright,” she said reluctantly, “but the gods only know who would sign up for such a mission.”

  “Oh, not only the gods,” May said, smiling, “I’ve an idea about a couple of people who might be interested in just such a thing.”

  CHAPTER

  TEN

  Aaron frowned. Gods, but this really is a fool idea. He and the others stood on a hill, the reins of their horses in their hands. In the distance, he could make out the walls of Baresh. The sun had only just risen and by its light he could see men and women—farmers mostly, from their look—entering through the city gates.

  Yes, Co agreed.

  Aaron thought that she would say something more, but she remained silent, so he glanced at Leomin. “No tricks this time, okay? It won’t do us any good if you give away our position to anybody that might be in the area.”

  “As you say, Mr. Envelar,” Leomin said, nodding his head.

  Aaron should have felt relieved, but he didn’t. For one, the Parnen had a habit of saying one thing and doing another and, more importantly, he felt a strange foreboding when he stared at Baresh; his stomach twisted into knots for reasons he couldn’t explain.

  Perhaps it has something to do with the fact
that you plan to walk into an enemy city and do everything short of handing yourself over to a man who would love to kill you, Co supplied.

  I don’t think so, he thought back, deciding not to acknowledge her sarcastic tone. He’d faced death before—as a sellsword, such a thing was pretty much in the job description—but this was different, somehow. He stared back at the city and, once again, that sense of impending doom rose in him.

  Tell me you don’t feel that.

  I’m sure I don’t—The Virtue cut off, hesitating. It…it can’t be. Can it?

  What can’t be what, damnit?

  What you feel is fear, Aaron, she said, her voice subdued and worried.

  “Damnit, I told you that’s not it.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Envelar,” Leomin said. “What was that?”

  “Not you,” Aaron said, his eyes never leaving the distant city.

  “I wouldn’t worry ‘bout it much, fella,” Wendell said. “The general’s got a habit of talkin’ to himself sometimes. Never says anythin’ interesting, anyway.”

  Aaron was barely listening, too busy staring at the city. His bond with Co had been growing stronger with each day that passed, the anger along with it but, so far at least, he had been able to keep that last in check. Still, stronger or not, he had never seen or felt anything like what he now discerned coming from the city. It wasn’t a smell, but if it were, it would have been the sickly sweet scent of meat lying in a hot sun. It wasn’t something he could see, either. Nevertheless, he could feel it, could feel dark shadows surrounding the city, shadows that shifted and curled about the distant walls and buildings like living, breathing things. I don’t like this, he thought.

  Nor I, Aaron, the Virtue said, and there was no mockery or amusement in her voice now. I have never seen anything like this, not in all my years. The good news is that it means that our bond is more powerful than any I have ever had before. The bad news ….

  The bad news, he finished for her, is that there is something evil at work in the city, something that has its entire population on edge.