Donnel's Promise (6 page)

It led into a tack-room overflowing with jumbled fittings. She stared around the dim space, sorting saddles, harnesses and collars from the gloom as her eyes adjusted. There was a strong smell of leather and beeswax. Nudging past a bench she reached for the partly open door. It creaked beneath her hand. Someone moved on the far side. Risha froze.

The creature stamped. Huffing in relief Risha slipped into the stable. With one hand on the horse’s soft nose she ducked beneath its neck and looked toward the door that led out into the yard. It was a mistake. The brightness of the open doorway dazzled her. Blinking blindly she reached a hand to the wall, feeling her way past the box stalls and circuiting a row of feed bins. Something clinked above her head; a small sound of metal moving against metal. Shrinking back, Risha found herself pressed against something solid and ridged. She groped behind her back. In a rush of understanding she turned and gripped the rungs of a ladder.

‘You’re supposed to be out of harm’s way.’

It was Croft, his voice greeting her as her head rose above the loft floor.

‘I am.’ She grinned. ‘And one more bow can’t hurt.’

‘Hasn’t come to that yet.’ He paused. ‘You take the window at the end there. Keep an eye on the hill. Be good to know if someone takes it into their head to creep up on us from behind.’

The window was shuttered by rotating wooden slats. Risha eased them a little wider, gaining a view of the
midden wall and the porch above the scullery door. She couldn’t see the roof extension, which was a pity. If someone was planning to climb the wall, that would be the place to do it. She scanned the hill for movement. There was none.

Minutes passed. Risha risked a glance at Croft. He was kneeling beside the open loft door, an arrow notched in the bow that he held lowered but ready, his attention fixed on something outside.

She turned back to the hill. A flicker of movement caught at the edge of her vision but it was gone before she could be sure. She scanned the slope. Nothing. Long minutes of nothing. A tiny scrape of leather against stone brought her to full alert. If only the slats were at a different angle. She was about to try sliding one out when a booted leg appeared. Risha stifled a gasp.

The Westlarn passed so close to the window she could have pushed him from his perch but for the slats. She held her breath. Stepping light as a hunter the man crept down the roof and dropped with a soft thud to the ground. Risha lifted her crossbow. The man’s hand was on the door into the scullery. She steadied her breath and nudged the tip of the arrow between the slats.

Her line of fire was obscured as a second man moved in front of the window. As he scrambled left Risha looked for the first. He was gone. Just as panic rose in her chest he reappeared in the doorway. Ciaran must have followed her advice and barred the inner door. The Westlarn stepped out, shook his head, and made a circling movement with his hand. Risha had no more time to decide. Aiming quickly she shot, loading another arrow even as he fell, blocking her ears to the
wet thunk of it and the brief, animal cry. Where was the second man?

A boot smashed through the window, shards of wood splintering into her face, pain spiralling through her chest. The kick knocked her backwards, crossbow flying from her hand.

‘Shit.’ Croft’s voice.

Something blocked the light. Risha scrabbled
backwards
but she was not fast enough. The man was through the low opening, his weight landing heavily across her thighs. She cried out. Croft dived past, driving the man sideways. Risha dragged ragged breaths into her bruised chest. Croft and their assailant were rolling across the floor. The Westlarn’s hands closed around Croft’s throat. Croft gouged for his opponent’s eyes.

Sweeping her hands across the dusty boards, Risha found her crossbow. Fumbling a bolt into position she looked up. A third man was poised to climb through the shattered slats of the window. She fired at point-blank range and he stumbled backwards, tumbling noisily from the roof.

Hands still trembling she reloaded. The struggling men had rolled away across the floor. She couldn’t risk hitting Croft. There was a shout from outside, then another.

Retreating until she had her back against the wall she flicked a glance towards the window then back to the struggling men. There was a guttural wheeze and Croft surged upright. Blood streamed from his nose. He swung a boot and she winced at the sound it made.

‘You all right?’ she hissed.

He made a terse sound and staggered a weaving line
toward her, peering briefly at the broken slats and the empty roof beyond before slumping beside her. ‘You?’ he asked.

‘Fine.’

‘One thing,’ he said. ‘Diplomacy might just have failed.’

It took her a moment to realise that the throaty hiss that came from him was laughter.

Over the next half-hour Risha had time to explore the extent of the bruising to her chest and shoulder. Croft had similarly attended to his injuries, at least insofar as stopping his nosebleed. After a brief assessment of risk, fore and aft, he’d returned to his position by the loft door with the advice that she shout next time she had trouble.

There was none.

When someone thumped on the rungs of the ladder she jumped.

‘Coming up. Don’t take my head off.’ Webb’s face appeared. ‘Have you—’ He stopped as he registered Risha.

Completing the climb he made a circuit of the dead man, the broken slats and Croft’s face before he spoke again. ‘Didn’t realise you’d had a visitor.’

Croft grinned. ‘More than one. The lady took one out as well.’

‘Two,’ she said.

‘Two?’

‘You were busy at the time.’ She looked pointedly at the body that lay between them on the floor.

‘Shit,’ Webb said. ‘Begging your pardon, my lady. Ah … does the captain know you’re up here?’

‘Probably not,’ she conceded.

‘How’re things going out front?’ Croft asked.

‘Stalemate. They’ve withdrawn to the bottom of the hill.’ Webb paused. ‘Odds are on their side.’

Croft grunted. ‘Shame we don’t have a few more of her. You might tell that to the captain.’ As Webb disappeared down the ladder he added a morose, ‘I expect we’ll be seeing him shortly.’

Nolan appeared within minutes, his anger so palpable it seemed to precede him up the ladder. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Before she could answer he spun to Croft. ‘And you.’ He sucked a breath, his glare falling on the body that lay sprawled at their feet. ‘Clearly —
clearly
— the lady was at risk. And yet you—’

‘If you’ll pardon me interrupting, Captain, she was no more at risk here than inside. And she saved my skin.’

Nolan’s look was searing. ‘Your skin is of very little value at this moment.’

Croft stiffened. ‘Not that I’m disagreeing with you, but without her there’d have been three men made it over that roof and into the kitchen. Safer dealing with them outside, in my view.’

‘I don’t recall asking for your view.’

‘No, sir.’ Croft looked studiously out the open loft door.

Risha intervened. ‘I thank you for your concern, Captain Nolan, but, as you see, I’m fine.’

Nolan stalked to the window, inspected the broken slats and glanced briefly down at the bodies that lay within a pace or two of the kitchen door. ‘Lady Arishara—’

‘Oh, for Sargath’s sake, Nolan, call me Risha! And Croft is right: I was less at risk here than I would have been inside had those men made it through the door.’

‘That is not the point.’ He blew out a breath. ‘I need
to know where you are, and that you’re safe. I—’

‘I’m not helpless, Captain Nolan. And it was your idea, was it not, that I become one of your guardsmen?’

He stared at her in silence before nodding abruptly. ‘Very well. Guardsman Rush, please note that, having placed yourself under my command, you will damned well do as you are told.’

As Nolan stamped back down the ladder there was a nasal hissing from Croft. ‘“Stalemate”, Webb said. He weren’t wrong.’

6

Guardsman Rush

N
olan’s face was expressionless. ‘Here’s my offer: leave now and we’ll allow you a day’s start. Stay and you end up dead; it makes no odds whether on our swords or after you stand trial for the murders committed here.’

The Westlarn propped his hands on his pommel and leant forward, his eyes slits of dark ice, lip curled in disdain. ‘And here’s mine. Hand over the girl or we slaughter every last one of you. Nice and slow. While she watches. Then we take her anyway.’

Nolan smiled. ‘Hardly seems worth riding up here to make threats you can’t keep.’

‘You think I can’t take this bitty farmhouse? I already have. It’s mine. And you are beginning to feel like a horsefly on a hot day.’

Nolan looked their visitor up and down. ‘With thirty men you might just about manage to take an undefended farmhouse — if you had luck on your side. Only this farmhouse is defended, and you seem to have lost half a dozen of your men. And your luck.’

‘Give me the girl and they all live. Except you.’

‘Contaminate Havre’s soil another day, and I’ll string your body up for the crows and take your head back to Havreport on a pike.’

The man jerked his horse into a tight turn, gobbed a spitball at Nolan’s feet and galloped down the hill.

‘That’s your idea of negotiating?’ Ciaran asked faintly.

Nolan made a disparaging sound. ‘That was just an opening gambit. I expect we’ll see their real commander in a few minutes.’

‘And then?’

‘Depends on their offer.’

‘Captain, are you quite convinced there’s no other way?’

Nolan nodded. ‘They’ve got numbers on their side and come nightfall … I doubt we can hold them, Ciaran.’

‘But we already have! Surely—’

‘We thwarted their first attempt. Next time they come at us they’ll know our numbers and positions. Once we’re night-blind …’ He shook his head. ‘If I was in their position, I’d try to get a couple of men inside an hour or two before dawn when the sentries are likely to be at their least alert then follow up with an all-out assault; maximum disruption, maximum damage.’ He paused. ‘Or they might try fire. Wouldn’t take much to smoke us out — I imagine the only reason they haven’t done it already is the risk of damaging their prize.’

‘But once Talben arrives—’

‘We don’t know he’s coming. And our friends out there are not going to wait.’

Mouth set in a tight line, she returned to her seat. Beside her Lyse shivered, and Ciaran stretched an arm around her shoulders.

‘Another visitor on the way,’ Webb murmured.

The man who rode into the yard was barrel-chested and fair-haired, his clothes of a better cut than those of the soldiers who flanked him. He eyed the two men before him then turned his attention to the shadowed loft, loggia and roofs. After he’d made a thorough
scrutiny
, he dismounted. The soldiers with him did not, keeping their crossbows to hand.

He was around Donnel’s age, and might have been an impressive figure if he had been a little taller and his eyes less closely set.

‘Where’s your leader?’ he barked.

‘I’m in charge,’ Nolan said, hooking his thumb around the hilt of his sword.

A sneer flickered across the man’s face. ‘Typical of Havre to send a boy to do men’s work. Perhaps I’ll retain your services in some role better suited: pot boy or kitchen scullion. Where’s the girl?’

‘Safe.’

‘With you?’ The words were scornful. ‘Bring her out. I’d like to inspect the goods.’

No one moved. The stranger took a step forward. Risha watched Nolan’s fingers flex. Her own arm ached to lift her bow.

‘If you’ve any sense, you’ll hand her over. Now.’

The sound of bowstrings tightening pulled Risha’s eyes away from the three men. The mounted Westlarn soldiers had their arrows trained on Nolan and Webb. She knew that, above, Havrean arrows would be similarly poised. They could take all three of them, now. Without their leader, the invaders would surely disperse. They could—

‘My commander is not a patient man.’

The tension went out of Risha’s arm. Killing these three would only bring the Westlarns against them. Nolan was right: they had nothing left to bluff with. Inside the barn Lyse stood up. Kahlen moved to her side. She steadied herself, patted her hair and, with a swift nod as if agreeing something with herself, strode into the yard.

The Westlarn’s eyes flicked over her as she walked to Nolan’s side, Kahlen a respectful step behind.

‘My greetings, sir. Does your commander lack the courage to come and speak to me himself?’ Her voice was haughty and stiff.

‘My commander is no fool.’

‘I’m pleased to hear it. What terms does he offer?’

The man’s smile was an ugly, twisted thing. ‘He offers you safe passage to your new home, Lady Havre.’

There was a fraught silence. ‘But offers no reason why I should accept? You said he was no fool.’

The Westlarn’s eyes narrowed. ‘Be mindful of how you speak. I also said he wasn’t patient.’

‘Perhaps he would be good enough to discuss terms with me himself.’ Lyse slipped off the ring Risha had given her and held it out. ‘Take him this. Ask that he attend me.’

There was an extended moment when Risha thought he would leave Lyse standing with her arm outstretched, but he strode forward suddenly and gripped her wrist. At her back Kahlen jerked. The stranger plucked the ring from her fingers and turned her hand palm upwards. ‘Careworn hands for one so high-born.’

Ciaran drew in a breath.

‘As a childhood spent in hiding in Westlaw determined.
Perhaps my mother’s hands were otherwise.’

‘I heard your hair was darker.’

‘I heard Westlarn soldiers were tall.’

Lyse’s chin was raised but even from the barn Risha could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

The man dropped her hand. ‘My lord will meet you out of bowshot of either camp. You may bring two of your milksops with you.’

‘And he will bring no more?’

He didn’t answer, turning and stepping up into his stirrup in a single flowing movement. As all three men clattered out of the gate, Lyse sagged.

‘You were magnificent,’ Ciaran assured her, as Kahlen walked her back to the barn.

‘He’s terrifying.’ Lyse grimaced. ‘And he stinks.’

Risha stalked the length of the stable and turned. ‘I can’t let Lyse go through with this. It’s too dangerous. What if they realise she’s not me?’

‘You saw her, Risha. She’ll play her part and they’ll believe it because they have no reason to think otherwise.’ Nolan looked suddenly thoughtful as his eyes followed her agitated movement. ‘We must give them no reason to think otherwise.’

‘There must be a better course! Nolan, there must.’

His expression remained set.

‘We held them off once. Surely we can—’

Nolan caught her wrist. ‘My lady, I would die here, today, if I thought it would guarantee your freedom. How do you think it would go for Lyse if we followed that course? She would be worthless to them in all ways but one.’

Risha shook her head, his meaning settling cold in her belly.

Nolan continued, relentless. ‘While they think Lyse is you, she is safe. It is the only way she can be safe.’

Her protest lodged in her throat like an unchewed lump of meat. Nolan turned her toward the door. ‘I’m sorry for this,’ he muttered, ‘but …’

She felt a brief sawing tug at the back of her head then she jerked forward, her hand flying up as she turned. ‘What—’

Her plait swung from his hand. Her mouth dropped into an O of surprise.

‘You should rub a bit of dirt through your hair to change the colour, and you might try to walk, well … Try to shamble a bit. And make sure you slouch in the saddle.’

Colour rose in her cheeks.

‘They’re on the way back,’ Croft called.

Risha’s hand rose involuntarily to the back of her neck. It felt cold.

The sound of hooves in the yard broke through her shock. Outside the stable door Kahlen was helping Lyse from her horse. The girl started in surprise as she saw Risha.

‘Your beautiful hair!’

Ciaran turned. ‘Captain Nolan! What have you done?’

‘There must be no shred of doubt if Lyse is to convince them. And that means we must give them no reason to look closely at my youngest guardsman.’

There was a brief, stunned silence while everyone stared at Risha’s cropped head.

‘Who leads them?’ Nolan asked tightly.

Lyse cleared her throat. ‘Harbin. Ciaran says he’s Goltoy’s nephew. He smells better than that weasel-faced brute, at least.’

Nolan’s eyed narrowed. ‘Goltoy must have been sure of his information to risk his nephew this deep in Havre.’

Ciaran abruptly turned to her saddlebags. ‘We can’t send Lyse alone. Harbin has agreed that I may
accompany
her.’

‘Ciaran, you can’t!’

‘Think a moment, Risha. Would we really send our lady off without aid or support? If I go, it helps prove who she is.’

‘And doubles the number of hostages they have,’ Croft muttered.

‘Should immediate rescue prove impossible, as it may, then my presence will also serve to strengthen the resolve of Havre’s Council,’ Ciaran said.

No one answered.

‘That’s settled then. Now, we have ten minutes to ready ourselves. Unfortunately Harbin wouldn’t agree to a cart and the pavilion — it would have slowed us admirably — but we should take as many trappings as we can load onto a packhorse.’

While Ciaran supervised preparations, Nolan had two guardsmen pile dry straw, broken timbers and stable rubbish in a towering heap in the yard. Three men were detailed to dig a grave for Bray’s former inhabitants.

‘Once you’re clear we’ll light the signal fire,’ Nolan told Ciaran. ‘If Talben’s close it should fetch him. If not: my first task must be to get the lady to safety, mistress.’

Ciaran gave him a wintry smile. ‘I’m aware of that, Captain. And I’ve always wanted to travel. Perhaps Harbin
will be amenable to a passing tour of Elion.’ There was a strained silence. Kahlen tightened the girth on Lyse’s mare and made a quick inspection of its hooves.

‘Will you make for Havreport or some closer refuge?’ Ciaran asked.

‘Tatton, in the first instance; directly south from there.’

‘It’s time,’ Kahlen said.

Ciaran squeezed Risha’s hand. ‘Until we next meet, Guardsman Rush.’

Risha’s throat tightened. ‘I’m sorry I got you into this.’

There was a slight pressure on her fingers then a nudge in her mind.
Trust me
.

She jumped as if stung.

It will not be for long
.

Ciaran withdrew her hand and the mental contact was broken. ‘Do try not to let the good captain die of guilt,’ she said.

Risha, still reeling, pulled Lyse into a fierce hug.

‘Unhand me, Guardsman!’ Lyse said, the effect of her haughty expression somewhat spoiled by the quiver in her voice. ‘You will look after Eon for me?’

Risha winced. Two years ago Lyse’s brother had risked his life at her behest. That they’d ultimately beaten Westlaw’s attack made no difference to the guilt she’d since carried. He’d been only thirteen. And now Lyse was putting herself similarly at risk.

‘Just until I get back, mind,’ the girl added. ‘And if I’ve grown used to this lady business by then, he’ll need to watch out.’

Risha forced a smile and turned quickly away.

As the two women mounted and rode to join the Westlarn soldiers waiting beyond the gates, Croft strolled
to Risha’s side. ‘Ciaran’ll keep them both safe. She’s a resourceful woman, that one. And survived worse than this in the past.’

Risha said nothing. The day had clouded over and a brisk wind swept the grass on the hillside into shifting waves. A sheep bleated.

‘Rush: stop idling and check the horses. Croft, you’ve got somewhere to be.’

Croft ducked away across the yard and Risha turned into the shadows of the stable, her belly a tight, twisting knot. By allowing Ciaran to go, had she improved Lyse’s safety, or doubled the risk?

‘My lady.’ Nolan had followed her.

Risha turned to face him, her doubts clustering in her throat.

‘You must be prepared to ride hard. We have bought a chance, nothing more. They’ll be back.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Westlaw’s border lies three days’ ride to the north — longer, with Ciaran doing her best to slow them. Harbin cannot afford to have us raise the alarm before they reach it. He will send men back to kill us.’

‘Despite his assurances to Lyse?’

‘In his position I’d do the same.’

Was it only this morning that they’d reached Bray, that Ciaran had reminisced about her childhood visits? Risha looked away along the stalls. Mica was stabled midway down the row of horses, still saddled but at least fed and a little rested.

‘My lady, something bothers me in this. It was no accident that Harbin’s men were here before us.’ He paused. ‘Who knew our destination?’

‘It was no secret we were riding north. I don’t—’

‘To Bray. Who knew this was where we planned to meet Talben?’

‘I spoke of it to Ciaran, Athan and Timon. But Athan would almost certainly have discussed it with Vormer and Thatton; perhaps with others.’