you.”
Lady Telgra hugged Queen Rosa, then Lady Trella in turn. Her eyes seemed to glow in the predawn darkness. They were full of excitement and sadness, and more than a little uncertainty.
Jicks said goodbye to his mother. His father had died last year when Pael and Glendar sacked Castlemont. The High King shook his hand, which was no small thing to a common soldier. Mikahl went on to assure him that his mother would be well cared for while they were gone.
One of the archers was saying goodbye to a girl who was as loud as Queen Rosa. It was clear that she didn’t want to see her man go.
The other archer was a loner, like Lieutenant Welch. The two of them stood watching over the scene.
From somewhere in the darkness, the order to load up was called. A few moments later three overcrowded wagons, pulled by four horses each, rolled out of Dreen’s north gate. They were headed toward adventure.
Chapter 17
Commander Lyle was on the verge of smacking the fat, dimwitted city guard captain who sat across from him. The office was furnished opulently with polished teakpanels, ensconced brass lanterns, and thick, padded leather chairs. The space was decorated far beyond the means of the man sitting on the other side of his huge, glossy-topped desk. He was obviously on the take, and it perturbed Commander Lyle quite badly. Worse, the man was actually refusing to give him aid, which meant he was refusing to act on an order given by the High King. The man kept reading and rereading the document Commander Lyle had given him, but incomprehension, or maybe disbelief that it was actually from the king, is all that showed on his round face.
“I’ll have to check with Queen Willa,” the man finally said. “I’ll send a rider in the morning. It’s already past the dinner hour. Too late to send one tonight.”
“Queen Willa lives in Xwarda, man,” Lyle said. “It will take a rider five days to get there and five days to get back. What difference does it make if it is dinner time when he leaves?”
The captain of the city guards scratched his head absently and handed the scroll back to Commander Lyle. “By the time a man readied his horse and prepared himself for such a ride, it would be dark. And it will take at least eight days to get to Xwarda, because my messengers do not travel at night. There are bandits and far worse dangers roaming the hills of Highwander. This isn’t Westland farm land.”
“Listen, Captain!” Lyle stood and roared while pointing a finger. “I don’t know what your game is, but this is an order from the High King.” He smacked the rolled parchment across the desk. “The High King reigns over Queen Willa. His order cannot be reversed, or be questioned by you, or even Her Majesty.”
The man’s confused look of dismay made Commander Lyle’s blood reach the boiling point. He was sure the veins in his neck were standing out like cords as he began to shout. In the background, beyond the rushing of the blood in his ears, he thought he heard footsteps scrambling outside the door.
“If you do not comply with my granted authority, I’ll have you arrested for dereliction of duty or insubordination. Better yet, if you think to defy me, I’ll do away with all the rank and rigmarole and just whip your fat ass.”
“Lieutenant!” the guard captain yelled, his face white with fear. “Arrest this man!”
The door to the office burst open and several armed men came in, though all of them except one looked to be as afraid of Commander Lyle as their captain was. Surely everyone outside the door had heard the conversation.
Commander Lyle drew his sword, and in a pair of heartbeats positioned himself behind the captain with his blade against the man’s fleshy neck. “Call them off, fool,” Lyle ordered. “I’ve fought dragons and demons and Dakaneese sellswords. I didn’t do it so some lazy scoundrel like you could pilfer the coffers and grow fat. We will send word to Queen Willa and the High King, just like you suggested, but it will be an inquiry into how you can afford to work in such luxury while half the people in the realm are fighting desperately to rebuild a simple place to call home.”
The lieutenant of Weir’s city guard, a short, wiry man with a very long mustache, seemed to think that was funny. After he finished laughing, he told his men to put away their weapons. Hesitantly, they did.
He picked the scroll up from the captains’ desk and read a few lines. “I think you’d better cooperate with this one.”
“I will,” the terrified captain blubbered. “I swear it. Just get him off of me.”
“It’s too late for that, man,” Commander Lyle said to the lieutenant. “I don’t know who you are, but unless you’re ready to back up the document you hold, you should mind your business.”
“There’s no need for violence here, Commander,” the lieutenant said through a wide, delighted grin. “Our corrupt friend can be put in a cell until your charges are rendered, but there’s no need to take off his head.”
The captain whimpered at that, and the lieutenant’s smile widened. Lyle realized then that the lieutenant was really enjoying this. Maybe he was tired of the captain’s treachery. He probably didn’t have the rank to do anything about it. Lyle knew that meant someone was empowering the captain, or he had some strong swords in his pocket.
“By all rights I would be justified to pike this traitor’s head at the city gate.” He returned the lieutenant’s grin so he knew he wasn’t really going to do it.
Just then, a man who towered over the lieutenant stepped through the door and pushed him aside. This man was armored in well-worn studded leather, and by the scars on his face and arms he looked to have seen his share of battles. He held a loaded crossbow in one muscled arm, and it was aimed at Commander Lyle.
“Shoot him,” the captain said, not realizing that the crossbow was also aimed at him. “Shoot him now, before…” his words were cut off by the feel of Lyle’s blade slicing into his neck. “Nooo, please,” the captain managed.
“It’s not very wise to order the death of the man whose blade is at your throat, Captain,” Lyle said with a glare at the man whose arrow might kill him if the trigger was pulled. He could tell by the look on the lieutenant’s face that the situation no longer amused him. His hand was on his sword hilt, but the hesitation in the gesture was obvious.
“I hope you’re not in Weir alone, Commander,” the lieutenant warned.
“I’m not alone. As a matter of fact, there’s my man Petar now.”
The man with the crossbow grinned. His expression showed that he wasn’t about to fall for that old trick. His grin disappeared, and the bolt from his crossbow loosed wildly and hit his captain in the shoulder, when Petar cracked him in the head with the hilt of his sword.
The captain gave out a painful yelp and Commander Lyle cursed at Petar for causing the man to fire at him. “By the gods, man, you could have waited until he was pointing that thing somewhere else.”
“Sorry, Commander.” Petar grinned.
The lieutenant sighed loudly and plopped down in one of the fine leather chairs that sat on either side of the office door. “Well I hope you have enough men to take Lord Vidian out, because that was his son your man just thumped.”
“Who is Lord Vidian?” Commander Lyle asked. He didn’t wait for an answer. “I have the entire armies of Westland, Dakahn, Wildermont, Seaward, Valleya, and even Highwander on my side, man. What are these people thinking? King Mikahl will come through here and clip all their heads if they think to defy his authority.”
“You might have to inform Lord Vidian about all that. Your wars never made it to Weir, and Lord Vidian has been leeching the city for as long as he’s been alive. His family owns the barges, the warehouses, and most of the people you see strutting about.”
Commander Lyle grabbed the four inches of arrow protruding out of the whimpering captain’s shoulder and pulled it sideways. The captain screamed and followed in the direction he was being pulled. A moment later, Lyle was sitting at the captain’s desk. He was no fool. He thought he knew exactly how to handle this mess.
“Petar, bind his hands please.” Commander Lyle rifled through the desk until he found a parchment and quill. He quickly scribbled out a few paragraphs. “Lieutenant, will you take this traitor out of my sight. I was sent here to deal with an entirely different mess. Petar, you stay here. I need a word with you.”
As soon as they were alone, the commander had Petar close and bolt the door. He scribed out two more
