Mordraud, Book One (32 page)

“
Think it’ll fit him?”

“
I’d say so, at a glance...”

“
Larois, thank you so much... If it bothers you, we can forget about it...”

“
No, of course not! When it boils down to it, those old bits of metal left up there are no good to anyone.”

Larois placed the bundle of tatters on the table in the living room and peeled them back with care. She could still remember the day she
’d wrapped it up in the rags of Nardo’s clothes, crying the whole time. When her fingers touched the steel, she had to swallow down her old tears.

Her son
’s helmet.

It was her husband, Nardic, who
’d insisted on a helmet of quality. Thinking about it so many years later, the fact even made her smile – as if a piece of sheet metal could really make a difference!

“
What’s the use in a good helmet, without all the rest?” she muttered as she checked that the visor hinges were still greased. It hadn’t changed since that day she’d flung it in the attic. The only piece of her family to come back from the front intact.

“
There’s not a mark on it, no scratch, no dent... this helmet served no purpose. Take it, you can do what you like with it.”

Gwern held it as if it were a newborn baby. As soon as he learnt of his brother
’s departure, he started rooting around for something to help him at war – a sword, a coat of mail, or simply a new hard-wearing cowhide bag. He had little money, and even time was tight. And so he asked Larois’s help.

“
It’s... wonderful...” he sighed in admiration.

“
No, it’s awful,” she replied as she fumbled with the bundle of rags. “It’s a piece of useless tin that makes it hard to breathe and blinkers vision. But, most importantly... it’s horrible because it’s witnessed a war. It’s awful through and through.”

“
Are you sure I can keep it?! It was your son’s. I don’t know if...”

“
If what? You scared he might come back from the dead howling and wailing? That dumb tin pot was no use to him when it should have been. I just hope it proves better for your brother.”

“
Thank you, Larois” stammered Gwern, bowing his head. “And sorry...”

“
It doesn’t matter, my boy. Apologies are pointless. But now...” Larois searched in a drawer, rummaging among her cooking utensils, and finally found what she had in mind. A chunky long sharp metal tip.

“
Let’s try and spruce it up a bit. So what will it be? Shall we engrave a sword, a lightning bolt?” Larois turned the helmet over in her hands, considering what it should be. “Perhaps even a frisky horse – but I’m not very good at drawing.”

Gwern shook his head slowly, twisting his lips between his fingers. He wanted something unique – a special good-luck charm.

“And if we were to...”

***

Impossible to sleep. The worries about leaving would have been enough alone to stop him getting a wink. Deanna’s cries had done the rest.

‘
It’s as if I can still hear them... damn it!’

Mordraud tossed away the pillow he
’d tried, in vain, to plug his ears with, in the silly hope of blocking out the screaming that was still swirling in his skull. He could no longer hear the silence.

‘
I need some air.’

The fiefdom was calm and untroubled, washed by a crisp northerly breeze. Mordraud set off at the central avenue and wandered aimlessly along lanes and paths nestling between the house walls, with no specific destination or purpose. He
’d have happily drunk a glass of wine, but the inn was shut at that hour. He hadn’t been to old Larois’s for longer than he could remember.

‘
Maybe I don’t want her usual lecture, or I’m avoiding her questions about how it’s going at the villa... Crafty old thing – just one look in the eye and she’ll read my thoughts, and I can do without that...’

He had to say goodbye to Gwern before leaving. That last task made him feel terribly ill at ease.

‘He’ll tell me I’m doing the wrong thing, that I shouldn’t go... Who knows how upset he’ll be.’

Coping with being far from Deanna wouldn
’t be a problem, or at least that’s what he believed with almost fanatical resoluteness. But Gwern was a different matter. Even if they rarely saw each other, he often thought about him, and was saving up all the money he earned in the hope of one day helping him study. It might even be with that guy that Sernio knew, the chanter. Saiden. His pay wasn’t much, but it was certainly better than the pittance Gwern managed to make at the inn. He’d never manage to put enough by at that rate.

‘
Things will all change when I’m in the army. I’ll just have to do something heroic, or get my hands on some nice loot...’

He didn
’t actually have the slightest idea what he’d have to do at war to get rich.

“
Perhaps I just have to survive...” he muttered, kicking a dry stick stuck between two stones. He’d wandered so intently that he no longer knew where he was – he could be south or east of the castle. When he lifted his eyes from the ground, he saw the tavern door right in front of him.

‘
Without even realising it, I’ve come home...’

A light was still on at the back – maybe the only one in the fief. Mordraud crossed the lane coasting the large building and peered in through the dirty windows. His brother was in their old room, seated on the floor, with his back to him, bending over something Mordraud could
not see from there.

‘
Now’s as good a moment as any...’

He entered through the kitchen, to surprise him, knowing he
’d find the door unlocked, as always. He crept along the short corridor and slipped into the room.

“
I see you’ve taken the best side of the bed.”

Gwern jumped, swallowing a suffocated scream. Something was glinting in his hands, but he hid it behind his back at once.

“Mordraud! You frightened the life out of me!”

“
I couldn’t sleep... Besides, there’s something important I have to tell you.” Mordraud scraped his feet nervously, not knowing where to begin.

“
I already know. You’re leaving with Adraman tomorrow morning”

“
How do you know that?! It only happened this afternoon!”

“
Word gets around quick, and I always listen,” Gwern replied, with little excitement in his voice. “I was only hoping you’d drop in to say goodbye.”

“
Did you doubt I would? See?! I’m here!” Mordraud sat down on the floor next to him and hugged him, rubbing his hair with his other hand. As usual, Gwern struggled to get free and whined in false irritation.

“
So you’ve decided to go...? I was hoping life at home with Deanna would convince you not to...”

“
Hey, I’m a man. Just because I do a woman’s job doesn’t mean I’m a sissy!”

“
But you don’t do woman’s work.”

“
Well, more or less... Anyway, you know I’ve wanted to join Eldain’s troops for years. This is my chance.”

Gwern gave up on any attempt at freeing himself, and snuggled up on Mordraud
’s chest. He was as thin as a rake. Mordraud couldn’t feel Gwern’s weight on him.

“
I was hoping you’d come see me, also as I’ve got something for you.”

“
What?!”

“
It’s not quite ready yet. But at this point there’s not a lot I can do...”

“
Okay, I understand. But what is it?!” asked Mordraud, growing curious.

“
Here it is!” Gwern stretched his arm out beneath the bed and placed before Mordraud’s eyes a large metal object that he couldn’t immediately make out.

“
But... it’s a helmet!”

“
Shh, be quiet... Larois is in bed and she’s a light sleeper!”

“
A helmet...” whispered Mordraud, “and a lovely one at that. But is it for me?!”

“
No, it’s mine, and I’ll crack it open on your head if you don’t come back in one piece...” Gwern tapped him on the forehead with his finger. “Of course it’s for you! It’s to keep that hot head of yours cool!”

“
Let me try it on...”

Mordraud placed the helmet on his head and fiddled with the visor. He could only get it to work with Gwern
’s help.

“
You’ll have to learn how to do it – otherwise they’ll slaughter you. And having a helmet won’t have been of any use...!”

“
Right, I’m nearly there... Got it!” Mordraud stood up and toyed with the visor, marching back and forth at parade pace. “Sound the trumpets! Here’s Eld’s hero... Mordraud!”

His voice simulated the
roar of an excited crowd. Then he began saluting and waving all around. Gwern laughed, stifling the noise with a hand over his mouth.

“
There’s more. Come here, and take this thing off.”

Mordraud turned to the side and removed the helmet.

“Read on the back, at the nape...”

“
Gwern
will protact
your life.”

“
Did I spell it wrong?!” exclaimed Gwern, amazed. “I don’t believe it. What an idiot! I was too on edge...”

“
But it doesn’t even notice!” reassured Mordraud, looking serious. “In any case, it’s even more effective like this. He’ll
protact
me to the end...”

“
Please, don’t make fun of me!”

Mordraud grabbed him once more and squeezed him to his chest, rolling on the floor with him. Gwern began laughing again from the tickling attack on his sides.

“I’m not making fun of you. It’s a fantastic present, little brother! I’m sure nothing will happen to me now I’ve got this.”

“
You promise me you’ll come home alive?”

Gwern was laughing and crying at the same time. Mordraud dried one of his cheeks and lifted the h
elmet in the air, pronouncing his words in an extremely solemn and serious voice.

“
I swear by the Gods, who may all snuff it in the vilest of ways, that I will not die, not now, not ever. I can’t. And, should the enemy wound me, then
...
I’ll forget I’m supposed to die
.
”

“
Will you really forget?!”

“
You have my word, brother.”

***

All the staff rushed to the courtyard in front of the villa to see off the master and his new attendant, even though dawn was barely a reddish glow on the horizon. The groom had saddled two horses, a servant had loaded the bags and the provisions Adrina had prepared, in haste, and Adraman had finished listing the consignments. Mordraud came running out, his eyes still half-shut in sleep. He’d dozed off at Gwern’s, hugging him on the wooden floor. He couldn’t remember ever having slept so well, and he’d come close to missing the departure. He took with him just a bundle of rags, with the helmet hidden inside. Adraman greeted him by raising a hand in military salute, and Mordraud responded copying the gesture. Everything was ready.

Only Deanna was absent.

“She won’t be down. Did you hear her last night?! She went on until a few hours ago... Good heavens, I was really quite scared.”

“
Bah! She shouldn’t behave like that to the master... He’s such a good man...”

The attendants were mumbling to each other, being careful not to be
overheard by Adraman. But you could tell from his face he was listening to it all. He scanned the door and the bedroom window, in the hope of a sign from his wife, or even just her angry face. He hadn’t slept with her, and he hadn’t even tried to get back in his bed. He’d snoozed in an armchair in the lounge, with a half-empty bottle of spirits in his hand.

“
We can set off,” he announced after a slow pointless wait. “Anything you have to get, Mordraud?”

“
No, sir... I mean, Adraman. There’s nothing I need to get.” Mordraud didn’t want to set foot in that house again, so recently resounding with the savage cries that had tormented it all night long.

“
Fine. When we reach the post, I’ll find you some clothes for the front.”

Adraman got on his horse, but Mordraud hesitated before placing his feet in the stirrups.

“What’s wrong?”

“
Nothing, I was just thinking... When we get there, will they give me a sword too?”

“
Of course. How else will you be able to fight? You have some odd questions!”

“
I’m not sure I should ask, but... well... Could I have one of yours – that long one with the black hilt hanging near the entrance?”