‘Quarrel,’ I said, hand out. Makin supplied one.
I started to wind the bow again.
‘Captain Rosson is it? And Captain Devers?’ My question caught them with blades half-drawn. ‘Why are you baring steel at me when your single most holy duty to the empire is my protection?’ All around me the guard were reaching for their swords, others urging their horses in closer to discover the cause of unrest.
‘You just shot Harran!’ Rosson, the man on the left, spat.
‘I did.’ I nodded. ‘I’m going to shoot you next. I figure I’ll be able to kill twenty of you before I need to start digging the bolts out of your corpses in order to continue. Now must I repeat my question? On what grounds are you drawing steel against me? I’m sure Captain Harran would not have approved. He at least knew his duty!’
‘I—’ Captain Rosson hesitated, his blade not yet clear of the scabbard.
‘Your duty, Captain, is to protect me. You can hardly do that by hacking at me with your sword now can you? The only circumstance that would permit you to attack me is if I threatened another of your charges. But I’m not doing that. I’m just going to kill the few hundred guard assigned to me.’
‘King Jorg – you— you can’t be serious,’ Captain Rosson said.
I failed to see how I could be more serious, but some men take time to adjust to unfamiliar circumstances.
ChooOOOooom.
Rosson hit the mud with a dull splat. At a range of two yards no breastplate, however fancy, is going to stop a crossbow bolt from a mechanism as heavy as the Nuban’s bow.
I set to winding again, starting to feel the ache in my bicep. ‘Captain Devers? Are you going to bring Jarco Renar to speak with me? Remember, if I try to kill him you can cut me to pieces.’
Rosson twitched in the mud. He tried to say something but only blood came out.
Miana and Katherine crowded the carriage door, Gomst peering over the pair. Osser Gant appeared to prefer his ledgers.
‘Jorg!’ Katherine’s hair fell around her in dark red curls, a heat in those eyes. ‘These are honourable men!’
‘And I am not.’ I held my hand out. ‘Quarrel.’
‘Men with families, lives to live …’
Miana said nothing, her face held tight against emotion, my son clasped to her breast.
I ignored Katherine and addressed the guard instead, lifting my voice to carry on the cold afternoon breeze. ‘I quite liked Captain Harran. You saw where that got him. The rest of you I hardly know. My newborn son is at risk. I hunted down a lichkin to ensure his safety. Do you think I will flinch at murdering each and every one of you?
‘I suggest Jarco Renar be brought before me, or this will not end well.’
Viewed along the length of my crossbow Captain Devers looked pale and unhappy. He had flipped up his visor to reveal a thin face decorated with scars and pockmarks, a short, dark beard hugging his chin.
‘Bring Renar here!’ he shouted.
While we waited I mounted Brath and backed him in a tight circle. He had been well trained and the smell of blood didn’t bother him. Captain Harran’s helm came free of the hedgerow thorns and I held it in one hand, the crossbow in the other, steering Brath with my knees.
Sir Kent clambered from his horse onto the top of the carriage. Choosing the right position had kept Kent alive more times than any armour or skill with a blade.
‘Bring me some more captains.’ I raised the crossbow toward Captain Devers again.
‘No wait!’ He put up his hands, as if that would stop a quarrel! ‘He’ll be here!’
‘But you will not.’ I squeezed the trigger, but before I’d applied sufficient pressure the guard ranks parted and Jarco Renar sat before me on a roan mare in golden armour. I turned the crossbow toward him.
‘I would have sent out someone else,’ I told him. ‘Just to see if I knew what you look like.’ It happened that I knew what he looked like, though we had never met.
Jarco hadn’t his brother’s chubbiness, or that deceiving amiability Marclos had. A taller man, broader in the shoulder, he had more of my uncle’s look about him, more of the Renar wolf.
I advanced Brath toward him. Hands tightened on sword hilts all around me.
‘Here.’ I gave Captain Devers the loaded crossbow, leaning in for a conspiratorial whisper. ‘If he attacks me be ready to shoot him. You’re here to protect me, remember. Cousin Jarco has his own defenders, the guard who rode with him out of Crath City.’
I pulled Brath’s head around. ‘Jarco, so pleased you could join us.’
‘Cousin Jorg.’ His horse stepped around Captain Rosson who was taking a damned long time to die for somebody shot through the chest.
A squeeze of the knees brought Brath in closer. Harran’s empty helm dripped dark blood on my leg.
‘I’m not happy with you, Jarco,’ I told him.
‘Nor I with you, Cousin Jorg.’
‘That rebellion of yours left me weak in the face of my enemies, Jarco.’ With the soldiers lost taking Hodd Town back under control, the defence against the Prince of Arrow would not have been quite so desperate. The battle had left Hodd Town rather the worse for wear too, and it had been ugly to start with.
‘You sit in my throne, Cousin.’ He had a touch of Father’s coldness in his eyes, and some of Uncle’s wildness. I would have paid well to be a spy at court the day Jarco came to beg King Olidan’s favour. How had my father greeted his nephew? ‘You rule over my people,’ Jarco said.
‘They love me well.’ I smiled to irk him. Jarco knew it for truth. Kings who bring victories are always loved
