The Scarecrow (Master of Malice Book 1) (46 page)

Col was feeling distinctly green. He couldn’t work out what was wrong with him. He’d never had trouble holding his ale before. “It’s just the way we do things. Major Tamsen’s all right. He’s strong but fair. Like the Colonel. Now she—”

“
What
did you say? Did you say
she
? Don’t tell me you lot take orders from a woman! Did you hear that, Othal? Their colonel’s a bloody
woman
!”

+ + + + +

R
ed-haired Othal grinned at his comrade, but there was no retort from either of the Manor men. Both simply sat there, eyes open, hands on the table, completely unaware of what was going on around them. Othal’s companion, Varth, returned the grin and glanced around the chaotic tavern. The room was so smoky he could barely see the men at the next table, and the noise had swelled so much that normal conversation was impossible.

“Time to go.”

Othal nodded and put his hand under Pengar’s arm. “Up ye get, me laddo.”

Pen stood with no protest and Col rose likewise in Varth’s iron grip. The four left the tavern, unobserved by anyone from the Manor.

Once outside, Varth and Othal picked up their pace, tugging at their unresisting companions. Col and Pen, eyes wide but unseeing, were led away from the tavern and into the town’s back streets.

It was late and the freezing weather meant all the townspeople were indoors. Hardly any windows showed a light. Daret was a poor town and bed was often the warmest place in most people’s homes. Col and Pen were guided through the cobbled streets until they reached the outskirts, where large storage barns flanked the road and hay and animal smells filled the cold, still air.

Varth dragged Pen toward the nearest barn, pulling the door open. Othal followed, pushing Col toward a wooden bench. The Manor swordsman sat heavily when released from Othal’s grip, but didn’t react at all to his surroundings. Othal took flint, steel, and bowl from the pocket of his cloak then knelt and struck at the tinder. When he had a glow, he lit a taper and touched it to the lamp they’d left there earlier. Varth closed the door, the feeble lamp lighting only the tiny circle where the four men sat.

Othal glanced at Varth, but his companion’s eyes had gone strangely blank. Ignoring him, Othal turned his attention to Col and Pen, a nasty smile quirking the corners of his mouth.

“Now then, my friends,” he said, his voice low, quite different to the rough tones he had used before. “Who’ll begin? Who wants to tell me all about Major Tamsen? Let’s start with something about his family and where he comes from, shall we?”

As Col began to speak, his droning voice devoid of inflection, a sullen ruby glow swelled in Othal’s eyes.

L
evant returned to his private rooms after bidding farewell to the people’s delegation. As a whole, the meeting went well. The hotheads were less inclined to accuse him without the mob behind them. He had answered all their questions and assuaged their fears. He sent them away to report to the city before the hour grew too late.

Vassa awaited him in his living room, sitting by the fire and sipping brandy, deep in thought. When Levant came in, Vassa rose and handed him a crystal tumbler of amber liquor. Levant took a healthy swallow before collapsing into the chair opposite Vassa.

“I could have done without that.”

“Did you satisfy them?”

Levant shrugged. “It wasn’t hard. They’d whipped themselves up over nothing. You know what crowds are like. Once they calmed down they were ready to see reason. I just hope nothing else happens to set them alight. We’re woefully shorthanded after losing Denny and his company.”

Levant eyed Vassa, seeing the other man’s mouth tighten at the mention of the tragedy. “What are you going to do about that?”

Vassa sighed. “Valustin will command as acting Lieutenant Major until the King returns and promotes him, but what I really need to do is contact the Manor to request more men. I tell you, Rendan, I’m not looking forward to reporting all this to Elias. If he’s having his usual trouble with Lerric—not to mention having to deal with Sofira—he’s not going to be in any sort of mood to receive this news. That is, if I can report to him at all. Have you heard any more about Taran’s condition?”

Levant shook his head. “I left strict instructions for both you and me to be told immediately if he wakes. The last bulletin I received said he was still deeply unconscious. That fire and the tragedy of Lady Jinella’s death affected him badly. You know something of what these Artesan types are like, Jerrim, and you’ve known Taran longer than me. What are the chances of him snapping out of it?”

Vassa shrugged sadly. “I really couldn’t say. I’m no expert on what they’re capable of, despite living among them all these years. I have absolutely no talent, according to Colonel Sullyan, and I can’t begin to imagine what they experience. But I’ve frequently heard her say they’re highly-emotional people, ruled by their feelings until they learn to use and control them. It may be that without help of some kind Taran will take days to recover.”

Levant grimaced. “And we can’t contact Colonel Sullyan to ask for that help. It’ll take two days to get a runner to the Manor. The King’s due back before then. What shall we do?”

“We’ll just have to wait until Major Tamsen or General Blaine tries to bespeak Taran tonight. When he doesn’t report as usual, they’ll know something’s wrong. Maybe one of them can rouse him from where they are, but even if they can’t, Sullyan will soon know of it. I wouldn’t be surprised to see her arrive here in the next few hours.”

“We’d better wait up, then, in case she does.” Levant leaned forward to refresh Vassa’s glass.

+ + + + +

D
exter counted heads as his men left the tavern, emerging reluctantly into the freezing night, tugging cloaks reeking of smoke tighter about their bodies. Dexter frowned and counted again. “We’re two short. Who’s missing?”

The men glanced around, checking their friends. “Col and Pen, Captain,” someone called.

“Did anyone see where they went? Did they leave the tavern?”

Dexter’s snappy tone indicated his annoyance. They’d all had strict instructions as to what they could do and where they could go. Slinking off on their own hadn’t been part of the plan. He was surprised Col and Pengar had disobeyed his order; it wasn’t like them.

He recalled Col’s questioning look when offered more ale. This didn’t add up. He called out names and sent some of the men back into the tavern to check the upper rooms and the storeroom. When that yielded no results, he began to get really worried.

“Come on, lads, split into teams of four and begin a search. Don’t go knocking on any doors just yet. Let’s check the streets, barns, and outhouses first. Work outward from the tavern. Hopefully they just felt the effects of that damned smoke and staggered outside to get it out of their lungs. Look anywhere they might have gone to get out of the cold. Maybe they were overcome and they’ve fallen asleep somewhere.”

They fanned out and began searching, Dexter cursing under his breath. He had been certain he could rely on all his lads. Col had been with him many years and was a trusted comrade. Pengar was a more recent addition, having transferred from another garrison a year ago, but Dex would have sworn he was as reliable as the rest of them. He’d never had any trouble from the man. Swearing expressively, but careful to keep his foul language to himself, Dex urged his men to the search.

It was over an hour before word reached him the absentees had been found. He had grown increasingly irritated and anxious. It was coming on for midnight and they would all be on a charge if they were late getting back. He shuddered to think how badly this would reflect on the King. He raced after the man who’d brought him the news and soon arrived at the barn where Pen and Col had been found.

He swore aloud when he saw the state of them. Collapsed on the floor, they both reeked of strong alcohol. Four empty bottles of grain spirit lay in the straw beside them and they had both fouled themselves in their drunken state. Dex thumped his fist into the door, furious at this flagrant breach of orders. The two men would be put on a charge and would eventually be discharged with dishonor. Such behavior was simply not tolerated. But Dex had been in command this night and his was the ultimate responsibility.

“Get them out of here!” he barked. “They’ll have to be carried. Gods, just look at them! What did they have to do this for? The General will have their hides. I might even flog them myself. Come on, get on with it! We’ve fifteen minutes to get back to the palace before we all get some of what’s coming to them.
Move
!”

It was a dispirited band that jogged up the final yards to the palace gates. Wil was on duty, along with two of Lerric’s men, and he was watching anxiously. He had the gates open before they arrived, and frowned in consternation as they straggled through. “What happened, Captain? Why are you so late? I expected you an hour—gods, what happened to those two?”

Dexter stared sourly at the goggle-eyed corporal as he waved the men through the gates. “Bloody disaster!” he spat. “Went and got drunk, didn’t they, and against my express orders! Where’s the Major, Wil? I’d better report this to him before he finds out from someone else. Lerric’s lot seem to think it’s funny and I wouldn’t put it past one of them to make sure he hears before I get to him. That’s all I need!”

Wil sent a runner to fetch Robin, and Dexter saw the two men back to their bunks. The Major strode into the crowded barracks, his feet thudding furiously on the floorboards. His face was thunderous and Dex cringed. This was likely to be all over the palace by morning, causing embarrassment to the General and the High King. He squared his shoulders and prepared to face the storm.

Robin marched over to the two comatose swordsmen and stared down at their sprawled bodies. He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the smell of alcohol and human waste combined. He transferred his fury to his captain, and Dexter tried not to look away from the disappointment he read in Robin’s eyes.

“What the hell happened, Captain? Weren’t my instructions clear enough?”

Dexter took a deep breath. “They were perfectly clear, sir, and all the men were fully aware of them.”

“So what’s your explanation for this fiasco?” Robin flung out an arm toward the unconscious men.

Dex bowed his head. “I don’t have one, sir. All I can tell you is that the last I saw, Col and Pen were obeying your orders. They were sitting with two of Lerric’s men, and Col asked permission to accept one more drink. I gave him that permission, as they’d only had one.”

“Then they took your permission too literally, Captain. Didn’t I tell you to only take men you were sure of? If these two couldn’t be trusted, they should have been left behind!”

“But that’s just it, sir!” Dexter held Robin’s furious gaze. “I’d have trusted these two with my life. They’ve never given a moment’s trouble, you know that. They’re usually the last ones to bother with drink. That’s why I deliberately included them. That’s why I took my eye off them. I’d swear on my life and my sword that they wouldn’t have done this on purpose. They would never knowingly let you down, let alone the King.”

Robin stood in silence. He trusted Dex and trusted his judgment of the men. If Dex said they weren’t inclined to heavy drinking, he had to believe him. And it was true that he’d never had to discipline either man. He gazed at the two oblivious men before turning back to his captain.

Dex held his gaze openly, willing him to believe what he’d said. It didn’t alter the circumstances and wouldn’t cut any ice with Lerric’s men, but Dex wanted his superior officer to know he was convinced some chicanery had occurred this night—some malicious prank to discredit Elias by revealing his crack troops to be just as debauched and disobedient as Lerric’s rabble. He knew they would suffer the consequences, but it was important that Robin understood none of them had deliberately let their King or comrades down.

Robin let out his breath with a sigh. He shook his head in exasperation. “Very well, Dex, I believe you. We’ll wait until morning and see what these two have to say for themselves. Get them cleaned up and make sure all our lads keep their mouths shut. There’s no chance Lerric’s men will, but we can’t do anything about that. Keep these two out of sight until I’ve had a chance to talk with them. I’d better go and report to the General and the King. Elias is going to be furious over this. He’s trusting us to show Lerric how it’s done, and he’s not having an easy ride up there. I wouldn’t care to speculate how he’ll react.

“Carry on with your orders, and try not to let this … incident upset the lads. I still trust you all and I’ll reserve judgment on these two until later. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Dexter saluted smartly, as did every other man standing, feeling wretched. He feared how far the repercussions of this fiasco might travel.

+ + + + +

R
obin shook his head as he left the barracks, feeling exactly the same as Dexter. He could hardly conceive of a worse occurrence, except perhaps a drunken brawl that ended in a murder. He could only imagine what the General would say, and Elias’s temper was vicious when crossed. And he was being crossed at every turn up in the luxurious surroundings of Lerric’s private chambers.

Robin mounted the tower steps two at a time and brushed past the sentry without a word. His angry footfalls sounded loudly in the empty hallways, unmuffled by rug or tapestry. He passed into the better-lit halls and found, with a heart sinking further by the minute, that he could hear angry voices even from here. He had hoped Sofira and Elias might have calmed down before he returned. He cursed under his breath, using one of Sullyan’s choicer oaths. The next few minutes wouldn’t be pleasant.

He approached the door to Lerric’s private rooms and reached for the latch. Before he could touch it, the door was wrenched open from inside, and the furious, white-faced specter of Sofira appeared before him. Her eyes snapped fire and two spots of color flamed high on her cheekbones. She breathed heavily and her eyes were red-rimmed, although there was no hint of tears. She froze when she saw Robin, and then turned slowly, deliberately, back to face the room.