Martin said, “We have some serious matters to discuss, Amos. You know we wouldn’t be here unless something of the gravest consequence was happening in the Kingdom.”
“Well, I’ll let you alone for a while. You were good companions, and I know you to be honourable men.” He got to his feet. “But one thing more. The Protector is the most powerful man in the city, but even his power is limited to matters of safety for Armengar. If he said he’d an old debt with you, no one would interfere while you fought a duel, man to man. If you won, you’d be cut loose to make your own way and no one in the city’d raise a hand against you. But all he has to do is to call you spies and you’d be dead before you turned around. Arutha, Martin, I know there’s bad blood between you and Guy, because of your father, and because of Erland. And I now know some of what lay behind that. I’ll leave that for Guy to sort out with you in time. But you must know something of how the weather turns up here. You are free to come and go as long as you don’t break a law, or as long as Guy doesn’t order you tossed out, or hung, or whatever. But he takes the responsibility. He guarantees your good behaviour, all of you. If you betray the city, his life is forfeit along with your own. As I said, these folk can be fairly strange in their way, and their ways can be harsh. So understand what I say when I tell you this: betray Guy’s trust, even if you think it’s for the good of the Kingdom, and these people will kill you. And I’m not sure I’d even try to stop them.”
“You know we’d not break trust, Amos,” answered Martin.
“I know, but I wanted you to understand how strongly I feel. I’m fond of both you lads, and would dislike seeing your throats cut almost as much as you would.” Saying nothing more, Amos left.
Arutha settled back, considering all that Amos had told him, and suddenly realized he was bone-tired. He looked to Martin and his brother nodded. No further discussion was required. Arutha knew he would tell the complete story to Guy in the morning.
Arutha and his companions waited as the lift rose, then halted at the floor of the Protector’s council room. It had been late morning, almost noon, before the call to Guy’s council had arrived. They walked a short way down the hall, then stopped. The guard who had come for them waited while they stared out the window in wonder at the vista below. Armengar spread out beyond the moat about the citadel and across the open market, to the huge city wall. But beyond the wall they could see a vast plain stretching northeast into the distant mist. On either side of the city the mountains rose high into the heavens. From the west white billowing clouds blew through a deep blue sky, as amber-highlighted green grasses stretched away to the limit of their view. It was an incredible view. Jimmy glanced over and saw a strange expression on Locklear’s face. “What?”
“I was just thinking about all that land,” he said, pointing toward the plain.
“What about it?” asked Arutha.
“You could grow a lot on such land.”
Martin let his gaze wander the horizon. “Enough wheat to feed the Western Realm,” he commented.
Jimmy said, “You, a farmer?”
Locklear grinned. “What do you think a baron does in a small place like Land’s End? Mostly he settles squabbles between farmers, or sets fair taxes on crops. You have to know about such things.”
The guard said, “Come, the Protector waits.”
As Arutha and his companions entered, Guy looked up. With him were Amos, Dwyne, Armand de Sevigny, and a woman. Arutha looked at his brother and saw that Martin had halted in his tracks. The Duke of Crydee was staring at the woman in unabashed appreciation. Arutha touched Martin’s arm and he moved to follow his brother. Arutha glanced at the woman again, and could appreciate his brother’s distraction. At first blush, she seemed a plain-looking woman, but as soon as she moved, her bearing added another dimension to her appearance. She was striking. She wore leather armour, brown tunic and trousers, like most of the others in the city. But the bulky covering couldn’t disguise the fact she was trimly built, and her carriage was erect, even regal. Her hair was deep brown, with a startling streak of grey at the left temple, and was tied back with a rolled green scarf, and her eyes were blue. And from the red-rimmed state of those eyes, it was clear she had been crying.
Guy indicated that Arutha and his companions should sit. Arutha introduced everyone, and Guy in turn said, “You know Amos and Armand. This is Briana” - he indicated the woman – “one of my commanders.” Arutha nodded, but saw the woman had recovered from whatever had caused her to cry and was returning Martin’s appraising look.