crunch of crushed bones.
Chapter 20
Once the fighting was over, Tilak ordered to fix the city gate and post guards on it. Then he selected soldiers to ride with him all over the city, in search of hiding barbarians. As he saw two mighty Franks riding towards him, he squealed with joy.
“The Queen sent her bodyguards to find you,” Tilak told them. “She had a sudden feeling as though you’ve left us! I’ve rummaged half of the city myself!”
“We were in another half,” Thomas grunted. He seemed to have just come out of shambles. Even his horse was bathed in blood, and his saddle was soaked with it: thick and dark, looking black in the light of fires.
The northern barbarian in wolf skin by the knight’s side was clean but, judging by his face, he’d also been killing. Besides, his quiver was empty and his sword on his back, in northern way, as if he would like never to see it again.
“Isosnezhda told to invite you to the feast,” Tilak said solemnly. “To celebrate the victory over barbarians. The two of you are the greatest heroes! Especially you, sir iron knight!”
Thomas shook his head dismissively. “We have to visit the great magician first.”
“Haven’t I told you?” Tilak exclaimed in surprise. “Barbarians had been to the tower once again before they fled. They burnt it down, destroyed all, cut the magician into pieces… Nothing remained there but burnt walls!”
Thomas watched Tilak in stupefaction. The knight did not seem to fathom what had happened. His jaw dropped, reins slipped out of his numb fingers. His stallion stepped aside, Thomas came to himself and turned to the leader of Merefans. “How… How that happened? How could he allow to be killed?”
Tilak shrugged, and the wonderer spoke in a gentle voice, “Stop rending your brave heart, Sir Thomas. You lost nothing. What could you be foretold by a magician who failed to see his own destiny? When
They turned their horses slowly, rode to the palace, white in the dark of the night. The lights were on, and not the ones cast by fires: soldiers hurried to light the remaining lamps, drive torches into walls in places. They were cleaning the halls hastily, pulling tables together, in preparation of the triumphal feast.
Near the palace, their horses were taken and led running to the tethering post. Thomas and Oleg waited, shifting their feet. Tilak led the way up the broad marble stairs, which were still blood-stained. The survived locals dragged corpses away hastily, searching their pockets to return what barbarians had robbed them of.
Thomas glanced back at Tilak anxiously. “How long are your feasts? Not a week long, I hope?”
“A good feast is a long one,” Tilak replied with dignity.
“Then I’d prefer a bad feast,” Thomas decided. “Sir wonderer and I have a long way ahead!”
Tilak gasped, stopped at the middle of the stairs, his eyes as huge as dishes for celebratory meal. “Sir noble crusader! At these very moments, a
Thomas blushed, glanced over at the wonderer. Oleg grinned, evidently amused by the knight’s confusion. “But… Isosnezhda is a fair ruler, isn’t she?” Thomas asked Tilak hastily, angry with himself for being embarrassed.
Tilak nodded, keeping his astonished eyes on Thomas. His voice grew stricter. “Her father died last year, and her mother perished five years ago in fire. And now the Queen has lost the only relative whom she trusted: the wicked treasurer was her cousin once removed! Our kingdom needs a strong hand, sir. Isosnezhda has our loyalty… and our love, but we, her faithful warriors, would like a strong man on the throne beside her. I’ve heard the talks of my soldiers today… Forgive my insolence, sir, but they spoke of
“I will not infringe upon the queen’s sovereign rights,” Thomas told him with dignity. “I am Thomas Malton of Gisland, a crusader of Christ’s hosts, a man of my word and honor!”
Tilak advanced his open palms. “Sir, we’ll do all of it by ourselves!” he tried to persuade. “Today the assembly of generals will proclaim you the king. We believe you’ll treat beautiful Isosnezhda kindly. You can marry her. If she tries to refuse you, then we, her generals, will threat to turn against her. We’ll force her, urge her!”
Thomas hummed and hawed and lifted his hands. Oleg took mercy on him, clapped both Thomas and Tilak on shoulders, and the three of them entered the royal palace. Thomas was greeted with joyful shouts. People came running from the other side of the palace to see him, and they who had fought side by side with him, in those valiant three hundreds, pointed proudly at him, their leader who swept dirty barbarians away as the wind sweeps dry leaves!
In the great hall, men were taking their seats. Servants were running off their feet, bringing food and wine to the palace from looted shops and stocks. Isosnezhda saw the mighty figures of northern warriors from a distance and beamed at once. Her radiant eyes shone like morning stars.
Thomas got his legs stuck to the floor. While he bowed to the radiant queen at a distance, keeping his eyes on her and forcing a broad smile, he whispered desperately to Oleg, “Sir wonderer. You’ve been to caves, you’ve spoken to gods… though Pagan, but gods all the same… Could you please speak to the queen? Explain her that my soul belongs to other lady?”
“And have her scratching my eyes out? I’m no fool. I’ve seen her nails… And she also has teeth, as sharp as a shark’s.”
“But she’s
“She’s looking at you like a woman, no queen. Sort it out yourself, I want no part. You shouldn’t have smiled to her. All of them treat it as a marriage proposal!”
The feast turned out to be also a war and state counsel, an assembly of generals, a resumption of oaths. The losses were great, and the faces of warriors at the table gloomy. Wine flowed like water, but one or another general would have his teeth gritted with fury and a silver cup crushed in his hand, spilling the wine over the festal tablecloth.
The frightened chieftains of neighbor tribes hurried to send their heirs or young daughters as hostages and swear their loyalty on a sword, a fire, or a black dog’s entrails. The heirs were placed, once they had come, in a stone outhouse in the garden, under a vigilant watch.
While the chieftains said their oaths, Thomas, in full armor, stood behind the young queen’s throne. He was fearsome, his eyes glittered menacingly. With a metal clink, he flung his huge gauntleted hand on the hilt of the giant two-handed sword. The barbarians who managed to leave the city alive had time to bring their tribes a word of that terrible insatiable blade.
Oleg sat at the far table with ordinary soldiers, drank enough for three and ate enough for five. His merriment looked unnatural. Thomas glanced at him with envy: the wonderer kept a low profile, following, as he had explained, the common way of his people, so he was not praised as a hero but he also got none of the concerns Thomas was drowning in, like in a teacup. Oleg spoke unhurriedly to Tilak, sparing Thomas that unpleasant talk, and arranged he would prepare horses for them, see to the remounts loaded with blankets, wine, meat and oats, and then, at dawn, lead remounts and destriers from the stables straight to the marble stairs of the palace.
The feast lasted all the night long. Thomas got out to his horse just from the table. The beautiful Isosnezhda came out to see him off: that extended Thomas’s torments. Her large blue eyes were full of tears, a begging look in them, her lower lip quivering. She did not trust herself to speak, only touched the knight’s chest gently with her delicate fingers, keeping her eyes on him. As she raised her face, he saw her tears dammed in the lakes of eyes.
When Oleg reminded Thomas impatiently, in half a voice, that one should not prolong suffering, neither own nor those of others, Thomas clenched his teeth and mounted abruptly. As the stallion felt his master’s mood, he gave a heavy sigh, cast a reproachful look at the queen.
“Farewell, my wonderful knight from a fairy land,” the young queen said in a rustling, barely audible voice. “Don’t forget: your kingdom is here. It shall always be waiting for you! I will keep my maidenhood to the end of my days. Whenever you resolve to come, your throne will be waiting. I’ve put your gauntlet and your dagger on the
