“Agreed,” Leon said, standing as well. “Perhaps tomorrow we will find meaning in these attacks.”
“Perhaps,” Khollo agreed, feeling anything but optimistic.
Khollo left the council chamber and started down the stairs. By the time he reached the main hall, his frustration with the lack of progress was abating. I knew going in this would be difficult, he told himself. The answers will come. Eventually.
Khollo settled himself in the kitchen, at a table in the corner. The lateness of the hour meant that Sermas and Hern had been here and gone, probably off patrolling the battlements now. With the increase in security, the cadets had started taking shifts on the walls to reduce the strain on the full-time soldiers.
As Khollo was finishing a meal of stew and fresh bread, a commotion in the great hall drew his attention. Immediately, he leapt to his feet and ran to the door, wondering what was happening.
Vertaga? he wondered. The noise was certainly loud enough for an attack to be underway. But any enemy force would have been seen far off, as it was still light outside. Some other calamity then, Khollo decided.
As he entered the great hall at a run, Sen-teel drawn and ready, a cadet stumbled into the hall.
“They’re here!” he gasped out. “Lord Kurkan needs you at the gates, Khollo.”
Khollo followed the messenger out into the night, heart beating wildly with anticipation. Already, soldiers were streaming towards the gates. Janis stood before them, watching the gates. At a signal from a man on the wall, the gates began to open.
“What’s happening?” Khollo asked as he drew level with Janis.
“We have a visitor,” the lord of the West Bank replied in a tight voice.
Khollo turned back to the gate just as a dozen mounted warriors rode through in two files. The first four riders peeled off to the sides, and another rider came forward from the midst of his bodyguards.
The newcomer was clearly not a warrior. He was clad in flowing robes of midnight blue, silver stoles with an ornamental key design draped around his shoulders. He carried no weapons at all that Khollo could see, nor did he look capable of wielding any sort of weapon. His legs and arms were painfully thin where they poked out from the folds of the ornamental robes, and though he was tall he didn’t have the bulk of a fighter. As he approached Janis, Khollo noticed that the man moved with his pointed nose held a little higher than necessary, his close-set eyes staring down it distastefully at his surroundings.
“Lord Kurkan,” the rider said. Khollo winced at the nasally quality of his voice. “You have arranged quite the show of force for my arrival.” He was looking pointedly at Khollo, who suddenly realized he still held the Sen-teel in his hands. With a twist and a flourish, Khollo sheathed the weapon.
“My apologies, Lord Clemon,” Janis said, bowing. “We are careful of all visitors these days.”
The chatelain sniffed haughtily. “I see. What is all this I hear about vertaga in the Fells? You aren’t taking the rumors seriously are you?” he added. “I had always thought you a man of intelligence.”
“I appreciate your confidence in me,” Janis said evenly. “We can discuss the ‘rumors’ whenever is convenient for you. If you would like, we can adjourn to the council chamber now. Or if you would rather get settled first – ?”
“Yes, yes, that would do nicely,” the chatelain replied airily, dismounting. He let the reins of his steed trail, obviously expecting that someone else would take care of the beast for him. He made no move to retrieve his saddlebags either.
“Sergeant Wilkes,” Janis called, struggling to keep his voice steady. “Would you be so kind as to help the king’s chatelain with his bags and find his room?”
Wilkes stepped forward, nodding pleasantly, a smile fixed on his face. The expression was clearly forced, so much so that Khollo thought he would have been better off without it. The chatelain did not notice though. He hovered impatiently while Wilkes retrieved his bulging saddlebags, then followed the sergeant up to the keep.
“Well, I didn’t expect him here quite so early,” Khollo muttered to Janis.
“Nor did I,” Janis replied, keeping his voice low. “We’ll have to make do with the situation though. He will not be easily swayed, nor do I think he will be inclined to obey someone your age.”
“His mistake,” Khollo said grimly.
Janis snorted. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s an important day.”
Khollo nodded and headed for the keep tower. Hern and Sermas intercepted him halfway there.
“Who was that?” Hern asked in an undertone.
“The king has finally sent his representative,” Khollo replied grimly.
Neither of them spoke again until they reached the stairs. “What will happen if he doesn’t come round?” Sermas asked finally.
“Have a little faith,” Khollo said with mock cheerfulness. “Janis and I can be very persuasive.”
“But, just in case, what’s the backup plan?” Hern pressed.
Khollo stopped at the door and turned to face his two friends. “We fight,” he said simply. “We fight, and we keep fighting as long as we can. We make the vertaga fight for every inch and water the ground with their blood. And, if fortune smiles on us, we win.”
Khollo shoved through the doors and into the main hall, leaving the others on the steps, far from encouraged. Khollo himself was fighting depression over the current situation.
Thousands of vertaga, he thought scornfully. This isn’t Ganned’s Gorge! We don’t have the defenses or the men to repel the vertaga. Janis may think we can draw them in and crush them, but I’m starting to think that’s impossible. Khollo rubbed at his eyes drowsily, wishing he could wipe
