If there was one thing he could not deny, it was that, sullied and ruined as she would be, Enesdia would at least be safe. With Andarist and his gentle ways. Safe, but not preserved. The thought sickened him.
He drew his cloak around him and settled into the shelter. Too tired for a fire, too weary for false comforts, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep.
There was a hill overlooking Enes House. A watchtower had once commanded it, but some ancient conflict lost in the family’s history had seen it burned, and then fully dismantled until only the foundation stones remained. The ground surrounding the ring of stones and the rubbish-filled pit was mostly denuded, covered in a gravel of fire-cracked rocks and broken crockery. A single track led down the southeastern side of the hill to the road.
From the summit, Cryl studied the estate. The light was fast fading. The river bent away from the road, circling this hill, and it ran like a black serpent behind the house and its grounds. All looked peaceful.
Beside him, Corporal Rees was studying the ground. A moment later he dismounted and crouched. ‘Lieutenant, it’s as you said on the road — they rode up here, a dozen or so in all. To do just what we’re doing.’
Cryl continued studying the estate. He saw the pole bearing no banner. He could see the front courtyard of the house and the carriage stable, its doors open. Smoke rose from the chimneys of the mess hall. A few figures moved about, and the two guards at the gates were out on the sward, watching them.
‘Scouting,’ Rees said. ‘The Lord was right to fear for his home.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Cryl replied.
‘Sir?’
‘They came up here, studied the estate. They saw it was under-manned. They saw that the Lord was not present, and the carriage was gone.’
‘A perfect time to attack.’
‘Yet they didn’t, did they? Why not?’
‘Loss of nerve?’
Cryl shook his head. Dread was a cold fist tightening in his chest. ‘The estate wasn’t their target, corporal. They didn’t attack, because the procession had already left.’
‘Sir, they would not do that. It is one thing to launch a purge against the Deniers, but what you suggest — against highborn, against a Greater House — they could never justify that in Mother Dark’s name.’
‘Those highborn who harbour Deniers on their lands,’ said Cryl. ‘The Lord spoke of this.’
‘But sir, we are speaking of the bride of Lord Andarist.’
Cryl looked down at the corporal, bemused.
Rees had pulled off his helm, running a hand through his sparse hair. ‘Sorry, sir. It’s just… I have friends in the Legion. Dear friends. Men and women I fought alongside. What you’re saying — none of them I know would ever agree to that. You’re describing a crime. Raw murder. Lord Urusander would be the first to hunt down the killers and hang them all.’
‘Renegades,’ said Cryl. ‘Bandits, even, or perhaps the blame will be laid upon the Deniers. If proper signs are left behind. Abyss knows, they could even implicate Draconus. Deceit is their weapon, and every act of murder and chaos will simply impress upon everyone the need for more order — the need for the Legion’s return.’
‘They would not do that,’ Rees whispered.
‘They need to strike quickly,’ Cryl went on, ‘before those coming up from Kharkanas reach the wedding camp. Don’t you understand, Rees? Strike the brothers to anger — no, to blind rage — and by whose hand will this civil war be unleashed?’ He gathered up his reins. ‘Mount up. We ride to the estate, and there I will hand you over to the castellan.’
‘And you, sir?’
‘A fresh horse. No, two. I will ride through the night — Sergeant Agalas should have caught up with us. Something has happened to them. If the attackers wait for dawn, I should reach Lord Jaen in time-’
‘Sir, don’t you think they’d have watchers on the road?’
‘If I take the other side of the river, there is a ford-’
‘I know the one, sir, but the river is high — no one dares it and for good reason.’
‘Which is why they’ll post no watchers upon it.’
‘Sir, you should not go alone.’
‘Corporal, it may be that Lord Jaen is right and indeed that I am completely wrong. You need to ready yourselves. Explain it all to Castellan Delaran.’
‘Yes sir.’
They swung their weary horses round and set off down the hill.
The night sky was clear and the swirl of stars bright overhead when Narad dismounted with the others in Bursa’s troop. Awaiting them in a glade was another troop of Legion soldiers, although none wore uniforms. From this unlit camp an officer strode out to meet them.
She was tall, well shaped, yet she moved in a loose way, dissolute, and Narad wondered if she was drunk. But when she spoke, her words were sharp and precise.
‘Corporal Bursa, what news do you bring me?’
‘Small troubles only, sir. Taken care of on the road. But we can be certain that no reinforcements from the north will reach them in time. Has Captain Scara Bandaris responded to the rider I sent?’
‘I intercepted your messenger, I’m afraid.’
‘Sir?’
‘Too great a risk, corporal. I deemed it more prudent that no Legion soldier ride to Kharkanas. I understand that you wish for confirmation of your orders. That you feel troubled by events, but you may take the word of Infayen Menand that all we do here is necessary. These first acts, each one but a small letting of blood, are intended to prevent more bloodshed later.’
‘Yes sir.’
‘Now, divest yourselves of all Legion attire. There is spare clothing awaiting you.’
Narad had stood close enough, among his comrades, to hear this exchange. He assumed that the officer was this Infayen Menand, although he could not be sure. When Bursa turned back to them, however, Narad could see, even in the darkness, his troubled mien.
‘You heard the lieutenant, then,’ he said to them. ‘Head over to that heap of clothing and be quick about it. Once changed, you can try to get some sleep. We’ll be back on the move, on foot, well before dawn. Supper’s cold tonight. Go on, all of you.’
Narad joined the others in making his way to the spare clothing. When he began picking through it, he felt sticky blood stains on some items.
‘Denier shit,’ the woman beside him muttered. ‘In case any of us get cut down.’
‘We get left behind?’ Narad asked.
‘That’s the way of it, Waft.’
Narad didn’t much like the nickname they’d given him, but he knew enough to not complain, which would only make it worse. Just another lie.
The woman shot him a look. ‘You say something?’
‘No.’
‘Glad for that,’ she snapped under her breath, shaking out a tunic and holding it up. ‘Spent four years going hungry after getting discharged. Four nobleborn boys once caught me worse for wear on a country road. Said I stank and damned near drowned me giving me a bath in the river. They laughed and pawed me and left me lying naked in the mud. I risked my life to see them safe and that was what they did to me? It wasn’t right, and now they’re going to pay.’
Narad stared at her. Others had paused to listen, but he suspected that they’d all heard the tale before. They probably had their own. Lists of wrongs could bind tighter than blood. And I got my face ruined by a Legion veteran, so go to the Abyss all of you. He stood studying a shirt he’d pulled out, and then dropped it. ‘Just realized I don’t need anything from here, since I ain’t wearing any uniform.’
She snorted a laugh. ‘Lucky you. Go get some sleep, Waft. Killing comes with the dawn.’
