Kael’S March

By Ralph Pearson

Expect the unexpected! This book contains a knight of the Realm, a mad dwarf, a talking horse, a pink castle, a civil war, a homicidal lizard, a dead mercenary, a minotaur and a very nice lady who doesnt like violence but does like milk who says being a knight isnt fun?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Aug 29, 2013
• ISBN: 9781481781589

Ralph Pearson

The son of a policeman, Gary joined the Royal Air Force as a weapons engineer in 1983. During fourteen years’ service, he became involved with war games, representing the RAF and friends in national and international competitions, which reinforced his interest in sci-fi and fantasy. A friend of Joyce, who he freely admits bullied and coerced him into this literary effort, Gary will forever thank the world’s toughest powder puff. To Joyce with thanks.

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© 2013 by Ralph Pearson. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 08/27/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4817-8156-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-8157-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-8158-9 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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R adek idly continued to smoke his pipe as the riders approached, making no attempt to hide, or even rise from his chair to greet them as most peasant farmers would, he instead looked them over with a professional eye. The young man in the lead was about twenty years of age, wearing finely tailored clothes, presumably in the latest fashion, and wore an arrogant expression. The rapier at his hip was ornately decorated about the hilt, and was probably worth a small fortune, but Radek doubted if this dandy could even draw the thing, much less use it.

The other five in the group were a different matter, however. Soldiers, professional by the look of them, and not just some town militia either, judging by the condition of their armour and weapons. Their leader rode just behind the dandy, a barrel chested bear of a man, Radek sensed that he was the one that was really running things, and wondered what he’d done to get lumbered with the young man who obviously thought so much of himself. Reining in their mounts in front of Radek’s small home, the young man puffed himself up importantly, are you Radek? he squeaked imperiously.

Who wants to know?

I beg your pardon?

Who wants to know?

Why, I do of course, you oaf, and I suggest that you mind your manners when in the presence of your betters.

I always do, I just don’t see any betters here at the moment.

WHAT? spluttered the young man incredulously.

Are you deaf as well as stupid? asked Radek, smiling.

Excuse me, Sir Astle, but may I deal with this? enquired the big man next to the now speechless young fop, I’ll have him flogged for this! shrieked Sir Astle.

That might not be such a good idea, my lord, soothed the big man gently, not when you consider why we’re here and who sent us. Why not let me deal with this, sir, I’ve dealt with people like this before?

You carry on, sergeant! I’ll have no more dealings with this insolent scum!

Sir Astle jerked his horse round angrily, looking at Radek as he did so, if I ever see you again peasant, I’ll make you wish you’d never been born!

With that he spurred his horse into a gallop, heading for a small village further down the valley.

Not good, sarge, observed one of the soldiers, want us to go after ’im?

No point, growled the sergeant, he won’t stop until he reaches that inn we stayed at last night, and you can bet a sovereign that first thing tomorrow he’ll be off back to Ladro just as fast as that pony can carry him, screaming to anyone who’ll listen how we failed to carry out his orders, he had to do everything himself, and that it’s a miracle he survived at all.

He sounds like a nice man, observed Radek.

A lot of things he may be, nice isn’t one of them. By the way, you are Mr Radek aren’t you, sir?

I am, sergeant, and don’t call me sir, just Radek.

Fair enough, I’m sergeant Jack Bellham of the Imperial guard at Ladro palace and these are my lads, Arus, John, Mikole and Barthus.

Pleased to meet you all. Are you in a hurry?

Well, that sort of depends on you.

In that case, there’s a barn with fodder for your horses round the back, a ham over the fire, and some ale that’s desperate to be drunk.

I think I like ’im, sarge, grinned Mikole.

You just might be right there, Mikole me boy! laughed Bellham, let’s go and see to these horses.

Some time later, with their pipes smoking gently and a tankard of ale by each elbow, six men sat contentedly at the table in a small but neatly kept room.

You’re a rare cook, Mr Radek, complimented Arus.

Please, just Radek. Now then Jack, why don’t you tell me what Astle was supposed to, eh?

Sure, we’re here on the king’s orders, to request your presence at the palace.

Request? smiled Radek.

Aye, request. His majesty was very specific about that. If you say no, we just turn around and leave.

The king gave you your orders himself? asked Radek, surprised.

Yep, I know he doesn’t usually, but this time he did. Me an’ the others were each given our instructions by the king himself.

Others?

There were five of us altogether, I don’t know what he’s up to, but the court’s going daft trying to find out.

So this Astle, he’s a courtier then?

Unfortunately, yeah he is. The palace is full of ’em, damned nuisance as well, all posing and prancing about, trying to impress the ladies, who’re just as bad.

Did the others get stuck with one as well?

Nah, just us. My captain’s his brother, you see, and he wants to impress some duchess or other, so he badgered the captain into ordering me to take him with us.

So his brother’s as bad as he is?

Oh no, captain Astle’s as good as they come. He just wanted to get rid of his brother, and since this trip was harmless enough, he sent him with us.

To impress a woman?

Yep, that’s right.

How the hell’s a ride in the country going to impress a woman, for god’s sake

I take it that you’re not familiar with the ladies of the court?

Do I look like an idiot?

OK, this trip was on the private orders of the king, right? So all he has to do is hint at a secret mission, especially chosen by the king, get the picture?

And she’ll be impressed by that?

Oh god, aye, she’ll think he’s the best thing since silk underwear.

Good grief.

Anyway, back to you. Will you be coming back with us? If not, me an’ the lads will get out of here and leave you in peace.

No you won’t. You’ll stay here tonight. It’s a full day’s hard ride to Ladro, besides I’m curious, I’ve never had a king request my presence before.

The relief in Bellham’s voice was obvious. OK, then, we’ll get some sleep, and get an early start in the morning, if that’s alright with you?

No problem, he assured them, rising from his seat and heading from the room, goodnight gents.

As the five soldiers made ready for the night, Arus looked thoughtfully at the door through which Radek gone. What d’you make of him, sarge? he asked.

Bellham thought for a moment, considering, I think some courtiers are in for a bit of a shock, he said slowly.

As he entered his tiny bedroom, Radek stood for a while looking at the opposite wall, or rather the gleaming bastard sword mounted upon it. I wondered when I’d need you again, my friend, he murmured softly.

Sir Kael was not a happy man, in fact Sir Kael was a very unhappy man.

What the hell am I doing here? he muttered, I’m supposed to be a knight, not some bloody messenger boy! He cursed as his horse stumbled, then, with a sigh, dismounted and began to trudge wearily up the track, leading his mount. Eventually his goal hove into sight. Looking like a small walled farm, the convent lay nestled in an area surrounded by small, well tended fields. Remounting, Sir Kael wondered again what he would do if the king’s request was refused. It wasn’t as if this was the first time that he’d delivered a royal command, that’s what a request from the king was, and everyone knew it. If anyone else had sent him on this task, he would have smiled knowingly, and made sure that the recipient of the request was in front of the king at the appointed time, no matter what it took to get them there. But this time it was different. The king himself had sent Sir Kael on this task, and was most insistent that if his request was refused, he was to simply accept it, and return to Ladro as fast as he could with the news. Incredible though it was, the king was actually willing to be refused by one of his own subjects.

As he approached the gates of the convent, Sir Kael began to wonder about the person to whom he was to present himself. Valenia, not a common name, but not particularly unusual either. What would she look like? How old was she? Would she even see him? He reached out and tugged on the weathered bell rope hanging to the right of the entrance gate, and dismounted as the sound of the bell echoed faintly from within the walls. Presently a young, pleasant faced nun opened the gate slightly and peered out at him nervously, Gooday, Sir knight, may I help you?

Gooday sister, bowed Sir Kael, I seek one called Valenia and was told that I may find her within your sanctuary, is this so?

Indeed it is, Sir knight, please won’t you come in?

Thank you, sister.

After tying his horse securely, and removing his helmet and sword, Sir Kael was led across a small courtyard and down what seemed to be a small maze of corridors, eventually arriving outside a plain door at the end of a narrow passage.

If you would care to wait here a moment, my lord, I shall inform Valenia of your presence.

Of course, sister, bowed Sir Kael.

Almost immediately the nun returned, If you would care to enter, my lord, Valenia is over by the fire.

Thank you, sister, you have been most kind.

As he approached the fire and caught sight of her for the first time, he knew that if he lived to be a thousand years old, he would never again see such beauty. She was young, and her face had a childlike innocence about it, framed in soft blond hair that seemed to shimmer in the firelight. But if the face was that of a child, the body was without doubt that of a fully grown woman. She looked up with innocent eyes and smiled sweetly, and when she spoke, it was with the voice of a spring brook dancing through a meadow, ah, Sir Kael, I’m so pleased to meet you.

Forgive me, my lady, but I did not know that I was expected.

You were not, Sir knight, but do not worry, I will accompany you to Ladro, and meet with your king.

The squad of the Imperial guard marched purposefully down the street, leaving no doubt that they knew exactly where they were going, eventually halting outside a large building with a small yard off to the left, and a huge sign over the door proclaiming to strangers that it was a smithies shop. What most strangers to Ladro would not know about this particular smithy, however, was that it enjoyed the almost exclusive patronage of the imperial guard, as well as the town militia. It was also highly regarded by the city merchants as a provider of top quality jewellery, as well as the best caravan guards money could buy.

Telling his men to rest easy, the sergeant in charge of the squad entered the shop and sought out a young, pleasant faced lad of about sixteen, who already looked as if he could break someone’s jaw without too much trouble, gooday, young Baral, called the sergeant.

Gooday, sergeant, replied the youngster pleasantly, can I help you?

Well actually I’m looking for your boss, Mr Minium, is he about?

He was down at the warehouse, seeing off a caravan, but he should be back here anytime now, why, was it important?

Well, sort of, I can’t really go until I’ve seen him. D’you mind if I wait here for him?

Not at all, have a seat.

Thanks.

No sooner had the sergeant sat down than the door burst open to admit a dwarf, dressed in heavy leathers, and his head buried in a sheaf of papers.

Mr Minium? asked the sergeant quickly.

Eh, what? gasped the dwarf as he whirled around with surprise.

You are Mr Minium? repeated the sergeant.

Who, me? Yes, why?

I bring a message from the palace, sir. You and your two associates are requested by his majesty, the king, to attend the palace as he wishes to meet with you.

What for? I’ve met him before, and know what he looks like.

Yes, well, I believe that his majesty wishes to discuss something with you all, sir.

Oh, right. Well now, let’s have a think. Gorbal’s out on a job just now, but he should be back tonight, and Yrrah’s out at the farm training some new lads, but she’ll be in town tonight, I imagine. When d’you want us?

In five days time, if that’s alright, sir.

Yep, no problem! Will there be anything else?

No, that’s it, sir. I’ll be off now, thank you for your time.

Don’t mention it, anytime.

As he rejoined his men, the sergeant wore a worried look. Right lads, let’s go find the militia captain, and see who’s on duty tonight.

What for sergeant? asked one of his men, I thought we just had to see Mr Minium.

We did, but Gorbal and Yrrah are both in town tonight, and you know what those two can get like.

Oh, no, groaned the young soldier, god help the militia if those two get carried away.

What’s the problem? asked the soldier’s companion, obviously new to the guards, how can two people be a problem to the militia?

You wouldn’t ask such a daft question if you’d met them, muttered the youngster’s companion feelingly.

Alright you two, quiet! snapped the sergeant, let’s go ruin the militia’s day.

Bellamine was curious as he rode next to his silent companion. The royal messenger was always curious, it was part of his job, to find things out, see what was happening, and then report it back to his superiors at the palace. But this time something was wrong.

Most people, when presented with a royal summons, either panicked or had delusions of grandeur. He glanced at his silent companion, and again felt his curiosity stir as he took in the tall, lean figure riding at his side with a casualness that spoke of many miles in the saddle. This one was different, for when presented with the summons, this silent man, who called himself Sir Humphrey, had simply shrugged, and with a quiet ‘I might as well, I’ve nothing better to do,’ had begun to pack.

As he continued to study him, Bellamine wondered again at his dress, the simple but functional leather clothes, sturdy boots and thick, strong belt, all of it a total contrast to his rapiers.

They were the finest craftsmanship Bellamine had ever seen, the result of a life’s work for the maker and undoubtedly worth more money than he would see in his life time. One thing was certain, he mused, most of the courtiers in Ladro would want one, if not both, of them. Though after studying this quiet man, Bellamine doubted that anyone would get them. His movements were too smooth, none wasted, and the two rapiers rested on his hips familiarly, as if they belonged there.

There was trouble ahead, Bellamine decided, for this Sir Humphrey, if that was his real name, could only be one thing, an assassin. The question was, how did the king know that he would be in that particular inn? According to the innkeeper, he’d only arrived there the day before, and what did the king need an assassin for anyway? He had Sir Simion, his champion, as well as the entire army at his disposal. But the most important question of all, of course, was who was going to die?

Anthea was depressed. She’d failed. There was no other way to look at it, she thought miserably. Now all the others would laugh at her even more, she could hear them now ‘typical woman, can’t even deliver a simple message,’ or ‘can’t be trusted, probably didn’t even look for him,’ as well as the usual ‘she’s only good for one thing anyway.’ All she ever wanted was to be a royal messenger, to serve her king by delivering messages around the realm. The problem was there had never been a female royal messenger before, she was the first, and now the last, she thought bitterly.

Footsteps resounded down the hallway, and as they approached, Anthea recognised the voice of Sir Kael, one of the king’s knights. She looked up hopefully as he always had a kind word for her, and she admired him greatly. He was talking to a woman, and Anthea felt a pang of jealousy as she caught sight of her clearly for the first time, for she was stunning, there was no other word for it. Even dressed as she was, in a simple robe, she was breathtaking.

Anthea! boomed Sir Kael, whatever are you doing here? He turned to the woman next to him, forgive me, my lady, may I introduce Anthea, our very first female royal messenger, Anthea may I present the lady Valenia.

My lady, bowed Anthea.

I am pleased to meet you, Anthea, responded Valenia, you must be very proud of your achievement.

Yes, my lady, I suppose that I am.

Forgive me, my dear, but you seem distressed, is something wrong?

I’m sorry, my lady, but I was sent to find someone, and I failed. answered Anthea miserably.

That’s hardly the end of the world, surely? asked Valenia gently.

I’m afraid it is for me, my lady, explained Anthea, it was the first time I was sent out of the palace, you see, and what makes it worse, I was carrying a message from the king himself. Now I’ll never be trusted again, she concluded dejectedly.

Rubbish! I’ll still trust you, asserted Sir Kael firmly.

Thank you, my lord, smiled Anthea gratefully.

Sir Kael, may I be alone with Anthea for a moment, please? asked Valenia.

Of course, my lady, replied Sir Kael, I shall await you by the door to the chambers.

As he moved further down the hallway, Valenia turned to Anthea, may I know who you were sent to find? she asked quietly

Someone called Styruss, my lady.

Styruss? No wonder you couldn’t find him, laughed Valenia.

I’m sorry, my lady, I’m afraid I don’t understand.

I know Styruss, my dear, and believe me, the best messenger in the kingdom probably wouldn’t have found him, so please, don’t feel so badly about it.

Thank you for your kindness, my lady, but I fear it’s too late for me now.

We’ll see, my dear, we’ll see, smiled Valenia gently.

King Antos sat uncomfortably on his throne wondering, not for the first time, why he didn’t have a more comfortable one made. He looked around the throne room with barely disguised disgust. With the exception of the two standing nearest to him, and the guards around the walls, all he could see was a collection of schemers, toadies and whores. He glanced at Zeman, his advisor, and nodded. Zeman bowed and, turning to face the court, banged his staff of office three times on the stone floor, bringing silence to the proceedings. As Antos settled back to watch, he couldn’t suppress a small smile, I’m going to enjoy this, he thought.

My lords, my ladies, began Zeman, we are gathered here today to discuss the return to Ladro of the prince Betir, in preparation for his marriage to the princess Rhannie of Caldoran.

Lord Daran rose to his feet, preparing to speak. Antos had expected Daran to be the first to speak, as he was to be the one chosen as the prince’s companion, and if so inclined, become a real power behind the throne, and Daran was so inclined.

What is there to discuss, my lord? We are all aware that a detachment of the royal guard will be sent to escort the prince here, where his education will be completed.

I agree that that was the tradition, my lord Daran, however his majesty has decided to break with tradition in this case, replied Zeman. That had their attention, Antos noted.

Exactly how will his majesty break with tradition? demanded Daran.

It will not be a detachment of the Imperial guard that will escort prince Betir, nor will he be brought directly to Ladro, answered Zeman smoothly.

What does his majesty intend, my lord? broke in Sular, Daran’s biggest rival in court. His face bright with interest at this latest set-back to his rival, he obviously wanted to see if there was any way in which he could exploit it to his full advantage.

This is ridiculous! blurted Daran.

On the contrary, my lord, replied Zeman, his majesty feels that it is time for a change, also that the prince may find some benefit from what he has in mind for him.

But who will protect the prince, demanded Daran, and where will he go if not brought directly here?

The prince will be taken directly to Caldoran, where he will offer to escort the princess Rhannie here personally after staying in Caldoran for the winter.

Impossible!

Not so, my lord, arrangements have already been made for the escort. As a matter of fact, they are already here.

WHAT!

May we meet one of these selected escort, my lord? interjected Sular, his eyes bright, you say that they are not of the Imperial guard, but who else could be trusted with so delicate a task?

Of course, my lord, this is not unexpected, replied Zeman. He gestured to the guard at the door.

Show them in, he commanded.

As the two figures approached the dais, Antos noted with satisfaction the wave of curiosity that swept the court. Just as quickly, however, the curiosity turned to open admiration from the men and equally open hostility from the women as they caught sight of the beautiful woman who entered with Sir Kael.

Your majesty, boomed Sir Kael.

My lord Kael, replied Antos formally.

May I have the honour to present the lady Valenia, of the Murkan convent, my lord.

It is an honour to meet you, your majesty, bowed Valenia gracefully.

The honour is ours, my lady, to be graced by such beauty, answered Antos.

Daran looked on in confusion, the prince is to be escorted by a nun? What the devil is going on? He must find out, and soon, or he may never see his plans to fruition. He glanced across to Sular, and noted that he also looked shocked at the news. Good, at least that meant that he had no part in this.

Sular was just as confused as Daran. While it was good news that Daran wasn’t getting his hands on that empty headed buffoon Betir just yet, Sular was at a loss to explain what the king was up to. For although it was no secret that the king despised his son, even Sular couldn’t see him ordering his death. Zeman bowed to Valenia.

I trust that my lady had a comfortable journey? he asked.

Yes, thank you, my lord. Sir Kael was most considerate, answered Valenia.

I understand that the rest of your people are here also?

My friends are here, my lord, yes.

Daran stood, my lord! May I ask if we are to expect a lady of the cloth to escort the prince to Caldoran with the aid of some ‘friends’?

I am not a nun, my lord, answered Valenia, I was given sanctuary by the convent to continue my studies.

So you can’t even claim the protection of the church on your journey?

My friends and I seek no such protection, my lord.

May I ask if we are familiar with any of your friends, my lady?

I believe that you may know one of them, my lord. The dwarf known as Minium.

The merchant? Daran turned to the hall, my lords, can we really expect to believe that the king is willing to trust the life of his only son to women and shopkeepers? I think not. I move that we forget this foolishness and remain with tradition. At least then we will know that the prince will be safe!

There was a general murmur of agreement from the assembled court.

My lords, called Zeman, before we go any further with our discussion, perhaps we could meet one of the lady’s other friends? He looked at Valenia, would that be possible, my lady?

I believe that Radek is in his quarters, my lord, replied Valenia.

As the message was passed, Sir Astle, seated behind Sular, couldn’t believe his ears. That ignorant peasant was here? Well, he’d just have to be sorted out then, wouldn’t he? Besides, killing a peasant in a duel would help his standing with lady Winsham, it would also prove that he could use his rapier, and it wouldn’t be dangerous, what could a peasant possibly know about fighting? He leaned forward to whisper in Sular’s ear.

Excuse me, my lord, but I’ve met this Radek fellow, he’s just a peasant farmer, and a damned insolent one at that.

A farmer? muttered Sular, nodding absently.

Sir Astle sat back smugly, the others had seen him speak to lord Sular, and Sular nod in response. He was now in a position to have the others acknowledge that he was a force to be reckoned with, and when he killed this peasant, his position would be even stronger.

Presently the doors opened to admit a large, muscular man dressed in tight fitting leather breeches and jerkin, his boots echoed around the hall as he approached the dais. Stopping next to Valenia, Radek bowed stiffly.

You are Radek? asked Zeman.

I am, my lord, replied Radek.

Where were you when you received the request to come here?

On my farm, my lord.

Sular stood, my lord, is this peasant trying to tell us that he’s a farmer? he demanded.

Radek looked at him, I am, he snapped.

I was not speaking to you, said Sular airily.

Maybe not pal, but I was talking to you.

WHAT? How dare you speak to me like that! I’ve a good mind to…

My lord! shrilled Astle, seizing his chance, permit me the honour of protecting your name, my lord. It is hardly fitting that you waste your time on scum such as this.

Thank you, Sir Astle, seethed Sular, I am grateful for your offer, and will hold you to it if I may.

Of course, my lord. Tomorrow morning, if it suits, my lord?

It does indeed, my lord Astle. Perhaps when you have finished, you and your lady would care to dine with me?

We’d be honoured, my lord, crowed Astle

This was better than he’d hoped for! Protecting Sular’s name and lady Winsham would be his! Not to mention that his position in Sular’s entourage would be not only safe, but virtually unassailable!

Gentlemen, please! called Zeman.

May I speak, my lord? asked Valenia quietly.

Of course, my lady, replied Zeman.

I detect a reluctance in the court to allow my friends and I to do his majesty’s bidding. Perhaps if we were accompanied by some representatives of the court, that would meet with their lordships’ approval?

An excellent idea, my lady, perhaps Sir Kael could go with you, along with a squad of the Imperial guard maybe? Zeman looked about.

I see no objection to that, my lord, replied Daran.

Nor I, growled Sular, though I fear that the good lady may find herself a friend short by the end of tomorrow.

If it please the court, my lord, may we also take a royal messenger with us? It may prove necessary to contact the palace, and royal messengers have right of passage.

An excellent idea, my lady. Sir Kael, you are familiar with most of the messengers, who would you recommend?

Anthea, my lord, blurted Sir Kael.

The girl? Are you sure? She is inexperienced, you know.

Yes, my lord, Sir Kael thought quickly, but she has already met lady Valenia and one of her friends, and so is known to them.

I see, said Zeman thoughtfully, do you have any objections, my lady?

Not at all, my lord, smiled Valenia sweetly, "not at all

Later, in his private chambers, Antos was jubilant.

Will you let us in on your plans now, my lord? asked Zeman.

Of course, my friend, I’m sorry, but I had to see how things went today.

You really expect a woman and a dwarf to teach your son how to be a king? growled Sir Simion, the king’s champion.

You forgot about Radek, said Antos.

No I didn’t. Sir Astle’s useless with that rapier of his, just like most courtiers, but he could beat a farmer. They use ploughs not swords.

Radek’s not a farmer, remarked Antos slyly.

What d’you mean?

I want you to attend the duel tomorrow, be my representative, and when it’s over, then tell me what you think.

What are you up to?

You’ll see.

What I’d like to know, said Zeman, is how you knew how things would go today. You neither spoke to, or sent a message to that Valenia woman, and yet she acted exactly as you said she would.

Simple, replied Antos, I thought it.

Thought it?

Yes, you see lady Valenia is what used to be called a sorceress.

Sorceress? You mean like as in user of magic?

Magic, nodded Antos, as soon as the doors opened to let her in, she read my mind, and so knew exactly what to do before she even reached the dais.

Nobody uses magic, objected Zeman, the skills for that trickery all died out in the great war, and that was over four hundred years ago.

Valenia does, shrugged Antos, and I wouldn’t call it trickery, I’ve seen what she can do.

Hm, that’s as may be, replied Zeman doubtfully, but what about Sir Kael? D’you think it’s wise sending him? He’s not exactly tactful you know.

What do you think, Simion?

Well it’s true tact isn’t his strong point. His idea of being polite to a courtier is to offer to push his teeth down his throat for him, said Sir Simion thoughtfully, but he operates best out of the palace, and he’s a lot smarter than he lets on. I can’t see him bowing and scraping to your son though.

Good, in that case he’s perfect, replied Antos firmly, with any luck, by the time he gets here next spring, Betir will be a man, and fit to be king.

And if not? asked Zeman.

Then he’ll probably be dead, replied Antos simply.

The next morning was overcast, with no sign of improving. It was, remarked one guard to his partner, a lousy day to die. Sergeant Bellham stood at the edge of the courtyard with his squad, next to captain Astle.

What d’you think, Jack? muttered Astle, has my brother got a chance?

To be honest, sir, replied Bellham, not a snowflake’s chance in hell.

This Radek’s that good?

Well sir, when we were coming back here with him he had a couple of practices, an’ if he’s half as good as he looks, your brother’s going to last about a count of ten, if he’s lucky.

Damn. Oh well, just as long as Radek doesn’t play with him, then I don’t have to get involved.

True, muttered Bellham thoughtfully, Barthus?

Sarge?

Go see Mr Radek, will you? Ask ’im not to mess about.

Ok sarge.

The two men looked at the gathering crowd with obvious distaste as they awaited the arrival of the two combatants.

Bloody vultures, cursed Astle under his breath.

Now, now captain, that’s no way to talk about the king’s court, you know that, came a gruff voice behind them.

Turning, they saw Sir Simion approaching them. Bellham and his squad snapped to attention as Astle bowed to his superior.

My lord.

Relax, captain, I’m just here as an observer, said Sir Simion casually. He glanced at Bellham and his squad, You seem to be a man short, sergeant, he observed.

Yes, my lord, replied Bellham, Barthus is running an errand for me, he should be back soon.

What sort of errand?

He’s asking this Radek chap not to play with my brother, my lord, interjected Astle.

He’s that good?

Bellham here thinks so, my lord.

I see.

Lord Daran watched the preparations from his window overlooking the courtyard while his aide explained what he’d been able to find out about the strangers who had suddenly appeared in their midst.

There they are, my lord, he said, pointing, Radek you’ve seen, all anyone knows about him is that he comes from a farm a day’s ride to the north, and that he doesn’t like nobles.

I’d noticed that, remarked Daran sourly, what about the others?

Well, the one next to him, with the two rapiers, is called Sir Humphrey. Doesn’t say much, keeps himself to himself. Safe money says that he’s an assassin, but who he’s after, and how the king knew where to find him is a mystery.

Probably just to keep us all nervous, answered Daran, news that an assassin is in town, especially if he’s not local, makes all kinds of people edgy. What about the woman, Valenia?

Again, my lord, almost nothing. Sir Kael brought her here on the direct orders of the king from the convent at Murkan, but she’s not a nun, nor does she appear to have anything at all to do with the church. Apparently she doesn’t agree with what she calls ‘foolish childishness’, which is why she’s not down there now.

Hm, the others?

The woman with the sword is called Yrrah, my lord. She trains caravan guards for the merchant, Minium.

A woman trains guards? asked Daran, surprised.

Yes, my lord, supposedly she’s very good, and Minium guards are the best you can get. The town militia know her very well, she regularly gets into fights in the taverns she frequents. She’s from the north, and is regarded as a barbarian of sorts.

Anything else?

Yes, my lord, according to people who’ve been on an escort with her, she’s definitely homicidal.

Good grief.

That fellow next to her is called Gorbal, he’s also an associate of Minium’s. It’s rumoured that he has connections with the criminal elements of Ladro, but we’ve nothing definite on that as yet. His main job is to train scouts for Minium, and again they’re very good. When he’s not doing that, however, he operates on his own.

Doing what, exactly?

He’s a bounty hunter, my lord. They say he always gets his man, and that he never brings them back alive.

So what you’re saying is this, surmised Daran thoughtfully, for reasons we don’t know, the king is willing to trust the life of his only son to a woman from a convent that isn’t even a nun, a dwarven merchant, a farmer, an assassin, a homicidal barbarian and a bounty hunter, right?

Yes, my lord, replied his aide unhappily.

Radek nodded as Barthus explained his captain’s dilemma, ok Barthus, you can tell your captain not to worry, I’ll make it quick and clean.

Thanks, Mr Radek, I’ll tell ’im that.

As Barthus made his way back to where Astle and the rest of his squad were waiting, Radek looked at the man next to him as he watched Sir Astle practicing in front of his friends.

Well, Sir Humphrey, what d’you reckon?

I’m surprised he managed to draw it without hurting himself, replied Sir Humphrey, all that prancing about he’s doing is strictly for show, and as for that stance, it might look good on the dance floor, but it’s a waste of time in a fight. You don’t need your sword, Radek, you could tear him apart with your bare hands.

That’s Styruss’ style. Besides, his brother might get upset if I did that.

Who’s ’is brother? asked Gorbal, the massive scar across his face, where someone had made a determined effort to separate the top half from the lower half, showing a dull red.

The captain of the Imperial guard, replied Radek.

Oh terrific, so we’ve got to take on the guards as well then?

Nah, captain Astle can’t stand ’is brother, he just doesn’t want me to mess about.

A young man, obviously enjoying his role as Astle’s second, came over to the group, Are you ready to die, peasant? he gloated.

No, but I’m ready to do Astle’s throat a big favour, replied Radek.

What’s that supposed to mean?

I’m going to separate it from his head, grinned Radek, then I’m gonna show you how to eat teeth.

The young man swallowed nervously as he backed away, hurrying to his friends.

That’s what I like about you, Radek, smiled Yrrah, you’re so subtle.

Sir Astle strode out to the centre of the courtyard, waving to the other courtiers and flashing a salute to the ladies who had turned out to watch the spectacle of a peasant being cut to pieces.

That’s no broadsword, observed Sir Simion as he watched Radek draw his sword and hand the scabbard to Sir Humphrey.

No, my lord, Radek uses a bastard sword, Bellham informed him.

I’ve not seen anyone use one of those for years, muttered Sir Simion thoughtfully as Radek walked slowly out to meet Sir Astle.

Are you ready? shouted Sir Astle.

Ready when you are, pal, snorted Radek.

It wasn’t a fight, it was an execution.

Sir Astle slashed and lunged at Radek who easily parried the blows, his sword seemingly an extension of his arm. After parrying several futile attempts by Sir Astle to strike him, Radek smoothly disarmed him with an apparently casual foreswing, before calmly, almost before Sir Astle had realised that his weapon was no longer in his grasp, taking him in the side of the neck with a massive backswing that severed his head. A stunned silence filled the courtyard as Radek stepped unhesitatingly over Sir Astle’s decapitated corpse and walked steadily to where captain Astle stood looking at his dead brother with shock.

I understand that Sir Astle was your brother, captain.

Yes, replied captain Astle stiffly.

My apologies, captain, for being the cause of your loss.

My brother caused his own death. No fault lies with you, and I thank you for making his end merciful.

It was the least I could do, captain, gooday.

Looking around at the nervously watching courtiers, Radek spotted Sir Astle’s second running into the palace. Ah well, he thought, later.

Looking down from his window, Daran wondered what other surprises the king had in store, wondered and worried.

Lord Zeman looked up from his desk as Sir Simion entered his office.

Well, who won? he asked.

That Radek fellow, answered Sir Simion, a thoughtful expression on his face.

The farmer?

He’s no farmer.

What d’you mean?

He uses a bastard sword, for one thing.

Is that significant? You know that I know nothing of such things.

It’s bigger than a broadsword, and heavier. You’ve got to be very good to even consider using one decently.

And this Radek’s decent?

Better. I’d say he’s an expert.

So how does a farmer get to be an expert with something like that then?

Farmers don’t. Neither do soldiers, they’re only taught the basics with a broadsword.

So who does?

Knights, but if he was that good we’d have heard of him. So that just leaves one other possibility.

Which is?

That he’s a mercenary, a hired killer.

You’re quite right, my friend, said Antos from the door, that’s exactly what he is.

Why someone like that, my lord? asked Zeman as he watched his king cross the room to a vacant chair, surely there’s a risk involved in having a man that kills for money near the prince?

I agree, concurred Sir Simion, what if Sular, or even Daran pay him to kill the prince?

That won’t happen, explained Antos confidently, Radek’s no ordinary man. If he decides that he doesn’t like someone, no amount of money will change his mind for him, and he doesn’t like either of them.

How d’you know that? asked Zeman, "he didn’t know either of them before yesterday.

He saw what they’re like, and lady Valenia assures me that he doesn’t want either of them to have anything to do with the prince.

How, in the name of god, is he going to do that? We’ve been trying for years to stop them, and they still get more powerful.

His methods are a little more direct.

Direct?

He’s decided to kill them.

I could get to like him, mused Sir Simion.

They all looked round as a knock sounded from the door.

Come in! called Zeman."

The door opened to reveal captain Astle, who stopped when he saw Antos.

Forgive me, your majesty, but lord Zeman wanted to see me.

Come in, captain, state your business, said Antos, and please accept our condolences on your loss.

Thank you, your majesty, replied Astle, but I’m afraid that my brother and I never saw eye to eye, and he was much like a stranger to me, but thank you for your concern.

Yes, well, began Zeman, I’d like to have your recommendation as to which squad to send with Sir Kael, captain.

I’d recommend sergeant Bellham’s squad, my lord, replied Astle without hesitation.

Why?

Bellham and his men are among my most experienced men, my lord.

Do you know him, Sir Simion? asked Zeman.

Yes, my lord, replied Sir Simion formally, he is very similar to Sir Kael in his attitude towards the courtiers, I believe.

You mean he hates them.

Yes, my lord. But I believe that he also has experience outside garrisons, should anything go wrong, is this true captain?

Yes, my lord, before being transferred to the guard he was a scout on the orc line. He can take care of himself and his men.

I see. What about the messenger, is it wise to send her? I mean, she is inexperienced.

She’s young, my lord, replied Astle, but she’s strong and intelligent, and she’s the best rider I’ve ever seen. I think she’ll do fine.

She was sent after one of lady Valenia’s friends wasn’t she? asked Sir Simion.

Yes, my lord, answered Astle, but she failed to find him.

I wouldn’t put anything by that failure, interjected Antos, I’d have been amazed if she had managed to find Styruss, he’s very difficult to keep track of.

Styruss? remarked Zeman, another of your mysterious lady Valenia’s friends?

Possibly.

Possibly? What d’you mean, possibly?

If you will excuse me, my lords, interrupted Astle, but I must attend my duties.

What? Oh, by all means, captain, and thank you, answered Zeman. You said possibly? he reminded Antos, after Astle had left.

Sorry?

This Styruss chap, you said that he was possibly one of lady Valenia’s friends.

Oh, yes, Styruss doesn’t have any true friends, replied Antos thoughtfully, he can’t really.

Why not? No man can be that bad, surely?

I quite agree, my friend, laughed Antos, but you see, Styruss isn’t a man.

What? exclaimed Zeman, what d’you mean, not a man?

Just that he’s not human.

Then what the blazes is he? demanded Zeman in confusion.

A lizard, replied Antos smugly.

The more Daran thought about it, the more worried he became. It was a profound shock to discover that the supposedly ignorant farmer was not only a skilled swordsman, but the manner in which he dispatched Sir Astle left him in no doubt that he was also a cold blooded professional killer. But was Astle the intended target? Daran doubted it, he was a lackey, he had no power. Then he remembered, Radek had challenged Sular, not Astle. So, Sular was the intended victim, that was fine by him, it meant that he was safe. Then it struck him, Sir Humphrey! The man was supposed to be an assassin, and if he wasn’t after Sular, then he must be after him! The most disconcerting thing about all this was the way that the king had managed to gather all of these people together without any of his people finding out about it. What was the king up to? How did he even know these people, much less where to find them? His thoughts turned to the woman, Valenia, and the merchant, Minium. If the ‘farmer’ had turned out to be a professional killer, what secrets did those two hide? Daran’s thoughts turned to the future, perhaps a winter holiday was in order, he thought. Nothing would happen until the spring, when Betir arrived, anyway, and suddenly he didn’t feel very safe in the palace any more. The more he considered it, the better, and safer, he felt. Daran began making plans to pack.

Sular was stunned, not by Astle’s death, as he’d regarded him as little more than an imbecile anyway, but by the manner of his death. He was suddenly grateful that he had resisted his initial urge to fight the farmer himself, for he was under no illusions that if he had, it would be his headless corpse down there right now. What made it even more worrying was the fact that the man had deliberately challenged him in front of the court, and the king had let it happen. How much did he know? How long had he known? One thing was certain, however, the mysterious messengers that the king had sent out were no longer a mystery. They’d been sent to collect this group of professional murderers to kill him, and probably Daran as well. Sular began to feel that he may need a break away from the bustle of the palace. Yes, somewhere in the country perhaps, where he could relax, not to mention be guarded night and day by his own people as he put his plans into action. Calling for his aide, Sular decided to pack. Ladro castle was going to have a very quiet winter.

Have you heard the news? asked Sir Simion as he entered Zeman’s office, a huge grin on his face.

Obviously not, judging by that grin on your ugly mug, replied Zeman, I take it something has happened that you find mildly amusing?

You could say that, nodded Sir Simion.

Well, come on then, don’t keep it to yourself.

Lord Daran and lord Sular have both decided to take a winter break on their estates

Both of them? You’re sure?

I’m sure. Their servants are packing as if an army is about to lay siege to the castle.

Zeman burst out laughing. This wouldn’t have anything to do with yesterday, would it by any chance? he grinned.

What do you think? replied Sir Simion.

I must admit, gasped Zeman, I had reservations about what the king had planned, but these friends of his seem to have accomplished more in the last two days than we have in the last two years.

True, chortled Sir Simion, captain Astle tells me that his men think they’re guarding a monastery, it’s so quiet.

When will they leave?

Tomorrow.

You really think they’ll do the prince any good?

Care to wager on it?

How much?

A crown says they’ll make a man of him.

Done.

The next morning was clear and crisp, and the court was breathing a collective sigh of relief. The strangers were leaving today, and that was enough, for in the space of three short days the palace politics at Ladro had been turned upside down. The chief contestants for power, Daran and Sular, had both been frightened into leaving for the winter, and the king had suddenly shown that he was far from being the foolish old man that most of the court had thought. With the sudden appearance of a number of people who, whilst appearing loyal, had shown not only open contempt for the court, but a willingness to resort to the kind of violence that most courtiers found truly terrifying, the king had not only reinforced his authority, but had shown that he had access to the sort of real power that was only found in nightmares.

The gathering crowds watching apprehensively from the windows surrounding the courtyard stared down at the soldiers and horses waiting patiently. Sir Kael strode from the doorway just as a short, heavily armoured figure rode into the courtyard astride a small, powerful looking pony.

Gooday, Mr Minium, called Sir Kael.

Gooday, Sir Kael, answered the dwarf.

Morning, Al, shouted Gorbal as he emerged from the keep, everything ready?

Just about, replied Al, we’ll pick up the pack horses at the north gate on the way out.

Sir Kael watched the two as they chatted idly, waiting for the others to arrive. He knew the dwarf as a blacksmith and a merchant, but here he was wearing full plate armour, with a shield and the biggest battleaxe Sir Kael had ever seen, as if he did it every day. There was obviously far more to these people than anyone realised, he reasoned. He studied the man, Gorbal, talking quietly with the dwarf, taking in the leather clothes, the broadsword and, curiously, the whip.

Sir Kael had never seen a war whip before, and he studied this one with interest. Coiled at Gorbal’s right hip, it appeared to be the same length as a normal whip, except that it was studded along its length with small, vicious looking spikes, ending in a metal tip, and Sir Kael shuddered to think what it would do to an unarmoured opponent.

As the others joined them, Sir Kael studied each in turn. Radek, surprisingly now wearing a suit of black full plate armour, and carrying a great sword which he affixed to his saddle with almost reverential care. Sir Humphrey, with the two rapiers dancing at his hips, and Yrrah, beautiful but alert, ready to strike out at anything, or anyone, instantly. Finally the lady Valenia, dressed simply in a robe, and a complete contrast to her heavily armed companions. Sir Kael turned as sergeant Bellham stepped up to him, yes, sergeant?

Me and the lads are ready, my lord, reported Bellham.

Supplies?

Rations for two weeks, my lord.

Good. Well sergeant, what do you think of our travelling companions?

Bellham looked over to where Valenia and her friends were gathered, considering.

God ’elp anyone that gets in the way, my lord, he said finally.

I think you may have a point there, sergeant, agreed Sir Kael thoughtfully.

But I don’t understand, captain, said Anthea.

You don’t have to, replied captain Astle, you are under orders from the crown to place yourself at the disposal of Sir Kael and the lady Valenia, that’s all there is to it.

But sir, persisted Anthea, how can I be trusted after my failure?

I heard the king himself say that he’d have been surprised if you had succeeded. Besides, you were specifically requested by Sir Kael, and approved by the lady Valenia and myself, so you see, you have no choice. Now stop looking for a way to get out of this, my girl, and get going. If you have any problems, see sergeant Bellham, I’ve had a word with him, and he’ll look after you, clear?

Yes sir, replied Anthea meekly, and turned to go.

Astle watched her as she approached the courtyard, Anthea! he called.

She turned and looked at him, yes, sir?

He grinned and gave her a wink, good luck, he said, and was gone.

With Sir Kael in the lead, they soon left Ladro behind them. On the second day, Bellham and Gorbal began to ride out ahead of the group, scouting out the land, and on the fourth day they found a farm. Burnt out, with some timbers still smouldering gently, it sat next to a small stream surrounded by several small, well tended fields. As they approached, they could make out several huddled shapes scattered around the buildings. Bellham and Gorbal went on ahead to scout around as the rest of the group slowly approached, wary for any signs of danger. As Gorbal continued to look about, Bellham reported back to Sir Kael.

Well? he asked.

Not good, my lord, replied Bellham quietly, we’ve got about fifteen dead, plus what looks like most of the livestock killed as well. Most of the dead were tortured, my lord.

Any idea who?

Well, my lord, the tracks look like orcs, about a dozen of ’em.

Orcs? This far from the hills?

Yes, my lord, deep raiding party, after food and slaves I’d say.

What makes you say that?

The women an’ kids, my lord, they’re gone.

Sir Kael cursed aloud as Gorbal joined them, do you agree with sergeant Bellham? he demanded.

About the women and kids?

Yes, do you think orcs took them?

Yeah, their tracks lead off to the northwest about a day ahead of us, but the prisoners should slow them down a lot.

I don’t understand, said Anthea quietly to Valenia.

I’m afraid it’s very simple dear, replied Valenia sadly, orcs prefer women slaves because they’re easier to terrorise, and when they’ve finished with them, they eat them.

And the children? whispered Anthea, afraid of the answer.

I’m afraid the children aren’t for use as slaves, orcs regard the flesh of a child as a great delicacy.

Oh my god, murmured Anthea weakly, I think I’m going to be sick.

How long d’you reckon it’ll take us to catch up with ’em? demanded John, his face tight with anger.

Oh, I reckon that by this time tomorrow, we’ll have found a dozen dead orcs and a bunch of terrified women and kids, replied Gorbal lightly.

What’s that supposed to mean? asked Sir Kael slowly.

A lone rider came in from the west, following the orcs. He had a look round, then set off after them to the northwest, answered Gorbal, smiling.

You wouldn’t happen to have recognised these new tracks, would you? asked Sir Humphrey suspiciously.

Funny you should say that, grinned Gorbal, I did as it happens.

What are you two talking about? demanded Sir Kael angrily, if one man’s gone after them alone we’ve got to catch up with him. He won’t stand a chance on his own.

Excuse me, my lord, broke in Valenia gently as she studied Gorbal thoughtfully, those tracks wouldn’t by chance belong to a rather large warhorse decorated with skulls, would they? she asked him pointedly.

That they would, replied Gorbal happily.

SKULLS? blurted Sir Kael, looking from Valenia to Gorbal and back again in confusion, what are you talking about?

Anthea, my dear, smiled Valenia, you’re about to meet Styruss.

Styruss? Skulls? Listen, I know I’m only a knight, and that I’m only officially in charge of this trip, but would someone please tell me what the hell is going on here? shouted Sir Kael hotly.

It’s rather difficult to explain, my lord, answered Valenia soothingly, but all will become clear tomorrow, please trust us.

I don’t really have a choice, do I? muttered Sir Kael angrily.

Not really, my lord, no, replied Valenia sweetly.

Jennifer tried to comfort little Samanther as they sat huddled with the other women and children near the fire, but the child was not responding at all, she simply sat staring ahead, and saying nothing. Where yesterday there had been a young, vital bundle of mischief, there was now nothing but an empty shell. Jennifer shuddered as she remembered the terror of the previous night as these things rampaged into her life, torturing her father before her eyes as she had been pinned down helpless to the ground, laughing all the time. She had never disliked anything before in her life, but as she watched the two orcs on guard, Jennifer learned to hate. As she watched the guard furthest from her, Jennifer suddenly stiffened as something caught her eye, she looked not at the guard, but beyond him. There it was again! She was sure she could see something, but what was it? Suddenly the guard’s eyes bulged as a massive clawed hand closed around his neck, lifting him from the ground and jerking him back into the shadows. It was over in an instant, and as she sat, wide eyed with surprise, Jennifer realised that there had been no sound, the guard simply hadn’t had time to cry out. Fearfully she clutched Samanther closer to her as she stared at the remaining guard. It seemed oblivious to the disappearance of it’s companion as it kept watch over it’s sleeping comrades. As Jennifer continued to watch, the orc stretched and yawned expansively, it’s curved fangs clearly visible in it’s gaping mouth. Suddenly it jerked backwards, and Jennifer found herself staring with shock at the axe that had materialised in it’s forehead. Gripped by fear, Jennifer clutched little Samanther tightly to her. Her head jerked up as a huge shadow detached itself from the edge of the clearing and rapidly approached the sleeping orcs. As the figure entered the ring of light cast by the fire, becoming visible for the first time, Jennifer gasped, wide eyed with terror at the sight before her, and little Samanther suddenly began to scream.

Over here! shouted Bellham, I’ve found ’em!

Bursting into the clearing a few moments later, Sir Kael, accompanied by Anthea, quickly looked about, taking in the situation. Immediately to his right, Bellham and the other soldiers were trying to calm the women and children as they cried out with relief, whilst here and there around the clearing the others emerged from the woods as he had just done.

Anthea, looking about, noticed something strange lying off to her left, and, curious, went over to investigate. As she got closer, she slowly began to realise what she was looking at. Oh my god! Sir Kael spun as he heard Anthea cry out. Quickly locating her, he ran over to where she was standing, her hands to her mouth as she stared at something on the ground in front of her. As he reached her, she turned and buried her face in his chest. It’s awful! she sobbed. Sir Kael was no stranger to bloodshed but, as he looked down, the sight that met his eyes chilled even him to the bone. The orc that lay before him had been torn apart, literally. Only the head remained intact, lying next to the mangled corpse, still attached to the spine. Yet even on the orc’s hideous features, Sir Kael could clearly see the expression of terror.

What in the name of god could have done this? he wondered aloud, a troll?

No, my lord, answered Valenia as