The Wounded Guardian (22 page)

‘There’s no point in him giving it to you. He’s the wielder. He drew it.’

This time Barrett’s mind went blank. Finding the Sword had been his quest for a few days; finding a wielder had been his obsession for three years. But a Ralloran warrior, especially one with a reputation like this, was one of the last people he had expected to be given such an honour. He struggled to get his mind around it.

‘You drew it? How? What did—I mean, a Ralloran! How could…’ he stuttered over himself, before he looked anew at Martil. If this was true, this man was now the most important person in the country.

‘I must ask you to prove it,’ he said politely.

Martil shrugged and drew the Dragon Sword, its bright blade catching the morning sun as it shone through the window. Barrett just stared in awe.

‘You are the wielder of the Dragon Sword. Truly, magic moves in mysterious ways. I could never have
believed a man labelled the Butcher of Bellic could draw the Sword. It must have seen something amazing in you.’ Barrett looked again at the Ralloran. What would this mean for Norstalos and, more importantly, his beloved Queen?

Martil was pleased with the change in the wizard but frustrated by the way he was insistent the Sword was somehow sentient.

‘Please, sit down, we have much to discuss. You have an enormous responsibility upon you.’ Barrett tried to think where to begin. He and the Queen had spoken about this so many times, made so many plans—but those had all depended on the Queen being free, not a prisoner of Gello.

‘Can’t I just give it back to the Queen?’ Martil objected.

Barrett bit back a sharp comment. There was so much this man just did not understand! And he hated having to explain himself. It was a fault of his, he knew. The world was full of idiots and he resented having to indulge them. He had spent years developing and honing his mind, while he felt most people could have their brains swapped for a few spoonfuls of pease pudding without any discernible difference. ‘Impossible. You are the wielder of the Dragon Sword. It will allow no other until your death.’

Martil felt his heart lurch at the thought. ‘Is that really true, that this thing will kill me if I do not become the Queen’s Champion and its official wielder?’ If it
were
true, then Father Nott need not do any more meddling, for he was already mired in some sick destiny.

Excellent, Barrett thought. He’s finally starting to realise what being the wielder entails. Now I can
take charge of him. ‘It’s true. You must become the Queen’s Champion and help her fight off Duke Gello.’

‘What if I don’t want to get involved in another war?’ Martil objected.

Barrett smiled thinly. ‘You drew the Sword. It is yours now, until death, with all the responsibilities that entails.’

Martil felt the weight of that crash on his shoulders, and could not help but slump in his chair.

‘It is not all bad. The Sword can do wondrous things for you. And the rewards of being the Queen’s Champion…I tell you, now we have the Sword, defeating Gello will be easy. And then you can relax and enjoy a rich life.’

Martil doubted it would be that simple. Things never were. But he could see where it was going. He was going to have to at least go and help the Queen. The only hope was the entire country was obsessed with the bloody thing. Perhaps Gello would just give up without a fight. Either way, it looked like he was going to have to at least try to act like a Queen’s Champion.

Barrett interrupted his thoughts at that point. ‘How did you come by the Sword?’

So Martil elaborated on his earlier tale, with help from Conal when it came to what happened to Danir’s band and how the Sword came to be there. Barrett’s anger grew as the evidence of Gello’s treachery was revealed. Could this come before the Council? Perhaps there was a chance to sway some of the other nobles back to the Queen…

‘I wonder if the bodies still have their surcoats?’

‘I doubt that. I don’t know where the ambush was, but even if we could find it, what do dead men
prove? If they were alive they could admit to stealing the Sword but if we turn up with dead bodies, wouldn’t they just think we killed them?’ Conal shrugged.

‘You seem to know something about crime,’ Barrett muttered, seeing the logic but reluctant to watch some of his hope being dashed.

‘Aye, well, I’ve had a little experience of it,’ Conal agreed.

‘Why did they want to get the Sword out of the country?’ Martil asked.

Barrett had to quell his irritation again. He reminded himself he needed this man’s support. ‘It was all part of his grand plan. The people think Norstalos has been at peace because of the Sword. Without it, they are terrified Norstalos will experience a huge increase in banditry, murder, rape and the rest.

‘The Royal Council has been corrupted by Gello. It called him in to restore the order disrupted by his theft of the Dragon Sword. You have to admire a mind like that. He creates a problem to which he is seen as the only solution. But now we can stop him. With the Dragon Sword’s wielder by her side, the Queen can rally the ordinary people of Norstalos, as well as the ordinary soldiers, who know nothing about the scheming of Gello, but who just obey orders.’

‘And how do we do that?’ Martil could not help but ask.

Barrett smiled. He and the Queen had discussed this many times. ‘Simple. You and the Queen order the regiments to arrest any officer who does not pledge their loyalty, then you order a few companies to arrest Gello.’

‘And the Sword will make them obey me?’ Martil said doubtfully.

‘In the hands of a good man, other good men will follow you,’ Barrett said in exasperation. ‘It is straightforward enough.’

Martil nearly choked. There were better ways to die. This wizard had obviously been reading too many sagas and not spending enough time around real people. It was time to give him a quick lesson.

‘How many men in the army will be good?’ he asked. ‘Half? A third? Three-quarters?’

Barrett considered the question. ‘Obviously the notion of fighting and killing does attract some bad men, but this is Norstalos. I’d say at least half are good men.’

‘And you can be sure the ones we speak to will be the good half? Because if they aren’t, we’re all dead. I’ve been around a few armies, and there are plenty of men in them who aren’t good. If Gello knows his job then they’ll be fired up to invade other countries, and you’d be lucky to find a quarter of them willing to turn on their comrades in arms. And remember, it only needs a dozen of them, as well as a smart officer, and you’ve got one dead Queen and one dead Dragon Sword wielder.’ He hesitated and then decided to press on with his greatest fear. ‘And what if it doesn’t work for me properly? I did order the assault on Bellic. I have a great deal of blood on my hands. What if I’m not ready yet?’

Barrett was about to give him a withering dismissal, from force of habit, then hesitated. He could see the point of his words. But he and Queen Merren had pinned so much of their hope on the Dragon Sword working immediately for the wielder. It was all they had talked about for the past three
years. The thought that they could have a Dragon Sword wielder but still be in the same situation…he did not want to give up so easily.

‘The old bandit follows you now,’ he pointed out. ‘Surely that means it is responding to you.’

‘Only because I don’t have anything better to do,’ Conal grunted. He might have confided in Martil but he was not going to say anything to this arrogant wizard.

Barrett exploded, his hopes and fears and the stress he had been under washing away any desire to placate the Dragon Sword wielder. ‘The country needs you! Duke Gello is almost completely in control and then you’ll see war as you never dreamed of! He’ll raise the biggest army this continent has seen and then crush every country! You Rallorans took decades to defeat Berellia. Do you think you could stop Gello at the head of 75,000 men?’

There were plenty of subjects that could get Martil angry, and insulting the Ralloran army was one of the big ones.

‘War isn’t just about numbers. You Norstalines might think you’re so good that you shit marble but we smashed the best Berellia and Aviland had to offer,’ he snarled. ‘Your pack of pampered lapdogs hasn’t faced real men.’

Barrett snorted in disgust. He fought for control, took a deep breath and decided to appeal to the Ralloran’s better nature. An inspiring call to arms might win him over. ‘Now is the last chance. You are the last hope of this nation, and with it, the entire continent. What do you say?’ he smiled, sure Martil would respond with some sort of oath to save the Queen and country.

Martil had heard too many of these sorts of speeches during the wars, usually right before being ordered to fight a hopeless battle. He had no intention of falling for it here. He said nothing.

Barrett’s face twisted in anger when he saw his declaration had not inspired something similar from Martil. ‘I curse the fate that saw the Sword come to such as you!’ Barrett slammed his hand down on the table and stormed to his feet.

Karia screamed, shrank back from his anger and ran around to Martil, crying. Instinctively all three men stopped and looked at her. Martil held out his arms and she dived onto his lap, burrowing into his shoulder.

‘It’s all right, we were just having a discussion,’ Martil reassured her. She sat on his lap, making sure she was facing away from Barrett. ‘She saw a lot of anger from her father and brothers. It upsets her still,’ he explained.

Barrett took a deep breath. He had little to do with children but did not want to be seen as the sort of person who frightened small girls. ‘I am sorry, Karia. Can you forgive me?’

She just burrowed her face deeper into Martil’s shoulder.

‘Perhaps later,’ Martil suggested, stroking her hair.

Barrett looked again at him. Gone was the warrior, in his place was a gentle man, calming a frightened girl. He forced himself to think again. Whatever else Martil might be, he was still the Dragon Sword wielder. ‘You may not believe it, but what you have just shown must have been what the Sword saw in you. It believes in redemption, so it no doubt felt you could be worthy of it—whatever you did, you can learn to unlock its power. Well, you
have to. You will be our saviour or you will die. The Sword will only allow those choices.’

‘How can the Sword allow anything? It’s a piece of metal!’ Only the fact he had Karia on his lap stopped Martil from raging at Barrett.

The wizard sighed. ‘It is a work of the dragons. It is not alive, it will not talk to you, but it is now linked to you. A good man will be strengthened by it. One who is not good will find their life slowly being taken by the Sword, much as a wizard gives his own energy to replace the natural magic he or she uses.’

Martil stared at the Sword in revulsion.

Conal cackled. ‘If you’d left it alone, you could have given it to the wizard and we’d both be on our way with sacks full of gold. He’s obviously on a secret mission to find the Sword for the Queen.’

Barrett sighed. ‘Actually, that’s quite accurate. The Queen knew Gello was going to take control, so she sent me out of the city to find the Dragon Sword. I had to rest here and only began looking for it yesterday. No doubt Gello guessed I would follow the trail of the missing Sword, so he would have sent word to stop me if I was seen around here.’

Martil groaned inwardly. It was worse than he feared. ‘So how do we get to the Queen?’

‘Well, I thought you would just walk through the city, holding the Sword, until you had enough men to go to the palace and demand Gello release the Queen,’ Barrett admitted.

Martil looked at Conal, whose face reflected the horror he felt. Do that and Gello’s men would cut them down in an instant. ‘You’ve been listening to a few too many sagas,’ he suggested. ‘We’ll get the Queen out, then take her and the Sword somewhere
out of the way, where the good men can come to us. When we’ve got enough, then we can think about marching on Gello.’

Barrett nodded reluctantly. ‘I can see the wisdom of that.’

‘How does the Sword work?’ Karia had turned around now. ‘Tell me about the dragons!’

Barrett laughed. After scaring her earlier, he thought he should do his best to be nice. ‘I was obsessed with dragons too, at your age.’

‘They call to me in my dreams and take me flying.’

Barrett’s fixed smile of sympathy became thoughtful. There was only one reason for that. ‘As they did to me,’ he muttered. ‘Interesting.’

‘What do you mean?’ Martil demanded.

Barrett waved him away. There was no need to get into magic now. They had the Dragon Sword to worry about. He had to tell this thick-headed Ralloran what even Norstaline children knew. ‘Later. First I must tell you more about the Sword.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I do not know exactly how it works, but once back in my library, I should be able to find some books to help us on the subject. What do you know of its history?’

‘The dragons gave it to your King Riel, who used it to unite the country, everyone was happy and Norstalos has been peaceful ever since, which the common people think is because of the Sword, even though that makes no sense,’ Martil recited.

Barrett paused. ‘Fairly accurate,’ he conceded. ‘The key point is, the people think the Sword makes them safe. It doesn’t. It rallies good men, makes them act when perhaps they would prefer to do nothing. The Sword itself has no power to keep the peace. It is up to the people to act. But having the Sword
should encourage the people to join us—and if enough people join us, Gello cannot stop us!’

‘Look, what if he won’t go that easily? I’m sorry to disappoint you, but someone who has spent years plotting to become king isn’t going to give up just because some Ralloran turns up waving a magic sword,’ Martil said caustically. This wizard and his Queen needed a healthy dose of reality.

‘This is boring. How about the dragons?’ Karia declared.

‘Be patient,’ Martil told her, and she subsided.

Barrett looked troubled. ‘Then it will mean civil war.’

Martil did not like the sound of that—or the idea the Queen’s hopes rested on him, and his ability to master the Sword. But first they had to get to the Queen.