The Scrivener's Tale #1

NINETEEN

Cassien and Ham emerged from the hills that overlooked Rittylworth Monastery from the north.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Ham sighed. ‘I never thought I’d see the famous monastery.’
‘I’m glad we came this way,’ Cassien admitted, ‘I’ve read about Rittylworth in the history books but to see it is worthwhile, especially …’ His voice trailed off as his sharp gaze picked out a scene that looked altogether wrong. ‘Ham, something’s odd.’
‘What?’ he said, following Cassien’s gaze into the distance.
Cassien squinted. ‘Shar! Those are bodies,’ he exclaimed.
Ham focused. ‘Two men.’
Cassien concentrated, trying to make sense of the scene from this distance. ‘Killed with arrows.’
Ham looked at him. ‘What can that mean?’
‘Search me.’ They both stared again. ‘Monks are walking out.’
They watched in silence now as the dead men were half-dragged, half-carried back into the building.
‘What is going on here?’ Cassien wondered aloud.
‘What do we do?’
‘We wait.’
‘For what?’
‘For more to be revealed,’ Cassien decided. ‘We need to get off this rise, though, in case we’re spotted. Come on.’ He jumped off his horse and Ham did the same. ‘Follow me,’ Cassien said, leading them down toward the wooded area that rose up behind Rittylworth. Once beneath the safety of the tree canopy, they tied their horses up. ‘Right, we watch from here. We have a good vantage point,’ he said.
They waited, neither talking. There was no sign of who had shot the arrows. Finally, they watched several monks re-emerge from the compound, their hands held out before them in a show of surrender. Moments later, another group of monks at the back of the monastery complex let some cattle out of a pen; three of the monks moved with the animals, walking slowly out into the pastures. Behind them, two monks lifted their hands in farewell; one held his fist and shook it earnestly. Cassien frowned. That was a sign of wishing someone good luck.
He blinked. It didn’t make sense that while an attack was underway the monks would carry on normal activities like taking care of animals. But it was Ham who put into words what was nagging most on the rim of his thoughts.
‘Those monks aren’t very good with the cows, are they? The one on the right — the short one — looks scared of them.’
‘He does, I agree. And the tallest of them keeps looking around, as though he’s worried at being followed.’ He chewed the inside of his lip. ‘Ham, those aren’t monks. Two of them are tripping over their cassocks. They have small hands, and one has long hair if I’m not mistaken. I think we have two women being pursued.’ He squinted a little, couldn’t see any more action at the front of the monastery. ‘It looks as though we’re going to get involved whether we like it or not, because they’re headed our way.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Nothing until I can hear what they’re saying.’
Saria pushed at a cow with a repulsed groan. Any moment she was sure it would tread on her foot or touch her with that huge wet nose.
‘I have to get you away from this open pasture, majesty,’ Brom said looking over his shoulder. ‘You’re too vulnerable.’
‘You only care about her,’ Saria accused. ‘Why did you ever bring me?’ she spat.
‘So that I could strap you to the queen’s back and let you take the arrows,’ the man growled.
‘Brom, don’t,’ the hooded figure in the middle admonished. ‘We’re going to be safer once we reach that ridge.’
‘Brom. I won’t forget that name,’ Saria assured him. ‘Between now and when you’re arrested, I’m going to dream up ways to punish you long before I have you killed.’
‘Be quiet both of you,’ Florentyna, said, her hand resting on the back of one of the animals. ‘Right now the cows are peaceful, but if you scare them our pursuers will notice.’
But their attackers were not to be fooled and were already upon them.
‘Your majesty!’ they yelled as one in singsong, derogatory tones.
The three cassocked fugitives halted and Saria let out a shriek of fear. The cows scattered.
Brom pushed both women behind him and pulled off the constraining cassock. In a fluid movement, he drew his sword. ‘Get back, you bastards,’ he warned the three men.
Their pursuers laughed behind masks as they sauntered up quietly on horseback. ‘You’re so terrifying, Brom. I’m sorry I didn’t get to watch the light die in Felyx’s eyes. I’m glad that I’ll have that pleasure with you.’
Brom blinked uncomprehendingly. His shoulders slumped. ‘Hubbard?’
The man who’d spoken gave an ironic shrug. ‘You see, I told you masks were irrelevant,’ he said to his two companions. He pulled off the helmet and visor and Florentyna judged him as having seen thirty-five summers. His face was one of those arranged with features that were neither dark nor light, neither handsome nor plain, and was lightly bearded, with hair of a nondescript colour. Even his voice had no defining timbre. Nevertheless, he looked strong and he possessed an innate arrogance, with an ironic tone that could cut to the bone. ‘Greetings, Brom. Majesty.’ He inclined his head. ‘And whoever this shrieking haridelle is.’
‘I have absolutely nothing to do with these people,’ Saria announced to him.
The man regarded her with no amusement. ‘Then why are you with them?’
‘They captured me. Forced me. He said he’d use me as a shield for the queen.’
At this their pursuer laughed. ‘Clever, Brom. You were always the creative one.’
‘Who is this?’ Florentyna asked, ignoring the man taunting them, allowing Saria’s words to wash over her unheeded, as she addressed Brom.
‘His name is Hubbard, your majesty. One of our best, clearly turned mercenary,’ Brom answered, his head lowered. ‘Forgive me, my queen,’ he whispered.
‘For what?’ she said mournfully. ‘We nearly made it.’
‘Tell our queen all of it, Brom,’ Hubbard urged slyly.
Still she refused their captor eye contact and held Brom with her stare.
‘Hubbard is my younger brother and brings my family the worst shame of all. I’ll at least try and kill him before he —’
‘Too late, brother,’ Hubbard said. The blade was expertly thrown and it sank into Brom’s throat a heartbeat later.
Florentyna gasped as Brom sank to his knees, dropping his sword. She reached for him, helpless tears rolling down her cheeks, not in fear but for the senseless waste of another good man.
‘I’m sorry,’ he managed to choke out again as blood bubbled from his mouth.
Florentyna fell forward with the momentum of Brom’s collapsing body. He was dead before their bodies touched the ground, but she felt an impotent rage ringing in her ears.
‘You would do that to your brother?’ she said from where she kneeled at Brom’s side.
‘As easily as I would do the same to you, my queen, for the right amount of gold.’
‘Then do it, Hubbard, and I’ll triple whatever each of you has been promised,’ Saria said, her voice losing its fear, replacing it with cunning.
‘There’re three of them,’ Ham warned, but it made no difference to Cassien if there were a dozen men. That was the queen down there he now understood.
They’d watched with shared loathing as the man who had put himself between the killers and the two women was murdered.
‘Ham, I need you to stay here. It’s too dangerous. They’re killing without pause. We can’t risk you.’
‘But we can risk you?’
‘Do as I say.’ He fixed Ham with a hard look.
‘Your weapons are awake,’ Ham said dully. ‘Use them.’
Cassien nodded just as the second woman offered to triple the reward if the men would hurry up and execute the queen.
Cassien moved as Romaine had taught. Against the wind, so the horses never sensed him, stealing confidently across the uneven ground as he ran fleet and silent as a wolf.
Florentyna turned slowly to regard Saria. ‘I cannot believe you just said that.’
‘Can’t you? I thought you’d always known how much I despise you, Florentyna. Darcelle must sit on the Morgravian throne. I’m just doing what’s best for our empire.’
‘You vile and treacherous creature,’ Florentyna whispered. ‘I came here to offer you a truce … a way for you to enjoy a full and free life with Darcelle.’
‘That shows just how useless you are at this role. Darcelle would never countenance such a magnanimous move and I would never permit her to be that weak.’
Florentyna felt Saria’s words like blows. ‘Whatever did my father see in you?’
‘He saw only a younger woman and pleasures of the flesh. Like all men he could be manipulated. It’s more what I saw in him, Florentyna. A crown. I was fond of your father and I grieve that Shar took him so early, but I still want my crown and its authority — and I shall have it through Darcelle.’
‘Ladies, ladies,’ Hubbard said, climbing down from his horse. Neither of his companions followed suit and were yet to remove their helmets. ‘I hate to interrupt whatever you’re both hissing about, but I have an ugly job to do.’
Saria smiled maliciously at Florentyna. ‘Well, get on with it, man.’
‘Thank you, I will,’ he said, pulling his blade from where it was lodged in Brom’s throat. It made a horrible sucking sound as he cruelly wrenched it free. ‘May I, your majesty?’ he asked, reaching for the voluminous sleeve of her cassock.
She didn’t know how she kept her voice steady. ‘Burn in hell with her!’ she snarled, looking toward Saria.
He calmly took his time wiping the blade clean of Brom’s blood, while he watched her closely, a wry smile mocking her.
‘I’ve been living as a mercenary for a long time, your majesty, sailing too many seas to faraway lands. I think the last time I might have seen you from a distance was when you were still a child. But look at you now — all grown up and, you know, now that I see you up so close, you really could rival your sister’s prettiness if you bothered. Why do you hide it?’
‘It’s a great pity you’re nothing like your brother,’ she snapped. ‘I’m sure your parents will be proud to know that Brom served his realm with great faith. I can’t imagine their despair that his brother betrayed it.’
He didn’t flinch as she’d hoped. Her words didn’t appear to hurt him in the slightest. In fact his grin widened. ‘That’s true. He was a very loyal man; very pure, while my heart is all black,’ he said dryly.
‘You’d kill a sovereign for a few gold coins?’ she asked, sounding incredulous. ‘What a sorry excuse for a man you are.’
‘Not a few, your majesty. A small fortune was paid to us, just to agree to it. An even greater fortune and land aplenty if I do the deed, which I’m happy to say I will.’
‘Shame on you, Hubbard,’ she said with as much condescension as she could muster. ‘So, get on with it. Why do you hesitate?’
‘Yes, hurry. Do what you came here to do,’ Saria pressed.
‘All right,’ he agreed, turning and, without warning, took one stride toward the dowager. When he stepped back, smiling innocently at Florentyna, she saw the blade he’d just cleaned was now embedded in Saria’s belly.
Saria gave a startled moan, belatedly realising what had occurred. Florentyna rushed to cradle her as she fell. The vicious, fatal wound suggested this would be no easy death and Florentyna suspected this cruel man had known as much.
He seemed to read her thoughts. ‘I thought you deserved the satisfaction of knowing at least one of your enemies died painfully, your majesty. Who is she anyway? Oh no, don’t bother to even tell me. I don’t care one way or the other,’ he said.
‘Saria,’ Florentyna cried, shocked, as she lay her stepmother down.
‘You win,’ the dowager sighed, in obvious agony from the hideously gaping wound that seeped with every shallow breath she took. Hubbard had, in that brief flash of violence, not only stabbed his victim but gutted her. Florentyna felt a surprising flash of pride in her stepmother as Saria wrenched the ghastly knife from her belly. ‘I don’t want to die with his blade in me.’ Her voice turned to a whisper that only Florentyna could hear. ‘Bury me near your father, child. Whatever you think is the truth, I did love him and whatever I’ve said to you to the contrary was only to hurt you because of my own petty jealousies.’
Finally, she somehow found the strength to press the knife secretly into Florentyna’s hands. As the light was fading from her stepmother’s eyes, she nodded at Florentyna and gave a final whisper. ‘Don’t let him …’ was all she was able to say before her head rolled to the side.
Florentyna could hear the men talking, but had ignored them while Saria had been dying. Hubbard, she sensed, had moved back towards her and she looked down at the bloodstained knife in her hands. Before she could think of how to use it, one of the attackers suddenly yelled.
She looked up at the same time as Hubbard wheeled around, and they both saw one of his companions lifeless and prone on the ground, his head at a strange angle as though his neck had been broken. His fellow horseman was already off his animal, sword drawn, facing a tall newcomer.
‘And where have you sprung from, stranger?’ Hubbard asked. ‘I don’t take kindly to my friends being set upon.’
‘Then we’re in agreement,’ the man said. He cut Florentyna a glance. ‘Your majesty. Are you hurt?’
She was stunned. ‘I’m … I’m not hurt.’
Hubbard sneered. ‘Not yet. But you can count, can’t you, stranger? There are two of us, one of you. One of us is going to kill you. I hope it’s me. And then we’ll kill her majesty.’
‘One of you can try,’ the tall man said, and before any of them could grasp what was happening Florentyna watched him run straight at Hubbard’s companion.
It seemed unbelievable that a man could jump into the air from two strides and use the horse like a wall, bouncing off its flank and landing noiselessly. The horse was startled and bucked, but the newcomer was already leaping away and kicking out a foot with such force and speed that Florentyna could barely replay in her mind what had just occurred. The nasty snapping sound suggested the man’s neck had been broken and the body slumped lifelessly to the ground next to his fallen friend before any weapon had been swung in defence.
The man landed softly and easily. ‘Congratulations. It seems you are the one left who is going to kill me,’ he said to Hubbard, ‘because the souls of both of your treacherous companions are already being gathered up by Shar’s minions. Frankly, I hope he throws them into the eternal fires of hell.’
To his credit, Hubbard’s expression barely registered fear, or even disappointment, from what Florentyna could see. If anything, the traitor looked vaguely impressed.
‘I detested both of them, so you’ve done me a kindness in ridding me of them and my need to pay them their share. And that fighting style is impressive. Where did you learn that?’ He sounded conversational.
The man said nothing but simply stared at Hubbard.
‘Pity, you’ve gone all moody on me. I was so hoping for some convivial conversation. It seems you want to fight.’
‘Not really. I just want you co-Opérative, so I can take you back to Pearlis and you can wait for your execution at the queen’s pleasure,’ he said with a smile that didn’t warm his eyes.
‘Why do I get all the blame?’ Hubbard feigned indignation, glancing at his companions.
The man ignored him. ‘Your majesty, do you want this man taken alive and as you see him here?’
Hubbard looked over at her with interest as though they were discussing some other person. He waited patiently for her reply.
‘This man must answer for his crimes.’
Now Hubbard laughed. ‘You’ll never take me alive,’ he sneered.
‘Then I shall take you dead,’ the stranger said in a chillingly low, calm voice.
‘You can try.’
‘I’m ready when you are.’
Florentyna watched the stranger unsheathe a magnificent sword.
‘Impressive, once again,’ Hubbard said. ‘That’s a Wevyr sword. I’d stake my life upon it.’
‘It is.’
‘I wish I had time to admire it,’ he said, also unsheathing his sword.
‘You’ll get your chance. You’ll be on the receiving end of its keen edge.’
Hubbard laughed. ‘I trust you can handle it as beautifully as it deserves to be.’
‘Try me.’
To Florentyna it was a blur of moves, the sound of ringing metal and the explosion of sparks as the swords clashed. Hubbard was the attacker but it didn’t matter what he did, her protector countered every move with such an economy of strokes and so little energy expended that it was as though the stranger stood still. Meanwhile, around him Hubbard danced, at first teasing but very quickly he took the stranger’s measure and realised he was not sparring. The stranger’s intensity was chilling and even Florentyna could sense the mood of the fight change. Hubbard was no longer amused or playful and he appeared to redouble his efforts to penetrate the defences of his opponent. As she watched, entranced, her fear leached away.
Hubbard’s swagger had deserted him, and she could see him sweating with his exertions, trying to break through the solid, steady, rhythmic counters of the stranger’s fluid sword moves as he defended himself, with no attacking strikes that she could perceive. Hubbard was fatiguing; he staggered back at one point.
‘Fight me, damn you!’
‘Why?’ the man asked in a bored tone. ‘You’re doing a very good job of wearing yourself down.’
Hubbard’s lips thinned at this. He raised his sword high. ‘I’m going to cut you open from neck to navel.’
‘You’re not, Hubbard. You’re going to be trussed like the animal you are and I’m going to fling you over your horse and take you back to Pearlis, where you will stand trial for three cold-blooded murders and the attempted murder of our sovereign.’
Hubbard paused at this. She thought he was trying to think of an acid retort or perhaps some type of distraction — Shar knew he needed it! She was ill-prepared for what happened. Hubbard didn’t leap at his enemy and try another series of parries, looking for the opening that would allow him to injure, hobble or even kill. Instead, he leapt at her and had her gripped around the neck, squeezing the life out of her.
‘I came here to kill you, your majesty. I think I should complete my business.’
She couldn’t talk. His arm was so tight across her throat, she thought she might pass out shortly. Across the pasture, her vision blurring, she could see the look in her protector’s eyes and she was sensing a similar white-hot rage to the one she had felt earlier at the killing of innocents.
‘… or, I could, of course, barter for my life with this curious champion of yours.’
They could hear the voices of the monks, now stumbling across the pasture towards them. She thought she recognised Hoolyn’s voice shouting.
Florentyna found the strength to growl through gritted teeth. ‘Let him kill me, stranger, but make sure you do not let him keep his life.’
Florentyna could see dark spots floating in front of her eyes. She was sure she saw the stranger nod, watched him drop his sword and reach behind him.
Her last conscious thought was that the grip around her throat had loosened and she had the feeling she heard a guttural yell as she fell into darkness.
When Florentyna regained consciousness, men were bent over her and she felt her eyelids flutter open and met the concerned expression of a thin boy.
‘The queen is recovered,’ he murmured and she lost his innocent face to the row of monks who suddenly crowded in over her.
She was still disoriented, then it all came flooding in: the sharp daylight, the tang of blood on the wind and the realisation that she hadn’t died this day.
‘Majesty,’ came a voice she recognised as Father Hoolyn’s.
‘What happened to me?’ she asked, trying to sit up.
‘Take it slowly, majesty,’ someone cautioned.
‘You passed out, luckily, my queen,’ Hoolyn said.
‘And as you slumped, the stranger’s blade found its mark,’ another voice said. ‘Extraordinary. You were so fortunate, your majesty.’
She blinked, not fully understanding. ‘Help me up, please.’
Florentyna felt strong arms beneath hers and she was returned gently to her feet, feeling slightly unsteady but glad to be upright and in control of herself again. Rittylworth monks, in their distinctive tan robes, immediately began to bow to their sovereign. Florentyna barely noticed, for she was looking for one man in particular, and there he was, standing off to the left away from everyone fussing around her. Before she could address him properly her attention became unhappily and helplessly riveted nearby to where he stood … four bodies were neatly placed in a row, well away from where she’d fallen.
Their heads and torsos were covered with spare cassocks. Florentyna was instantly nauseated to recognise the feet of Dowager Saria, and the intense emotion occasioned by her stepmother’s, Brom’s and Felyx’s deaths overtook her once again. She swallowed to steady herself.
She thought on her father’s advice that people would wait on her word: ‘Pause, breathe, compose, before you speak steadily, calmly and with confidence. That’s how you win trust,’ he had counselled. ‘That’s why men will follow you.’
Well, she needed only one to follow her now.
‘Your majesty,’ he said, bowing, as she approached.
‘I don’t know how you did this,’ she said, glancing at Hubbard’s corpse, ‘but thank you.’
‘Cassien killed him with a throwing blade,’ the boy she’d seen earlier said enthusiastically, stepping forward. ‘I’m Hamelyn, Queen Florentyna,’ he added, with a perfectly executed bow. ‘A friend of his.’
She regarded the boy with a faint smile: ‘Greetings, Hamelyn.’ Then she turned to his friend. ‘You threw a blade that accurately at the man holding me in front of him?’ she asked, incredulous. ‘You were standing over there. That’s an impossible throw, surely.’
‘Maybe I was lucky, majesty,’ the man replied, his tone modest.
‘I admit that I saw it occur, my queen,’ Hoolyn confirmed, ‘and the accuracy of Master Cassien’s throw directly into the eye of your attacker was like nothing I can imagine witnessing again, nor would I want to see such violence. He was dead before he hit the ground. Even so, I would be lying before Shar if I didn’t say I was glad that this stranger happened upon you and dealt with the attackers, but the dowager … and your man, Brom …’ He trailed off, looking mystified by the row of corpses.
Florentyna held out a hand. ‘Cassien, is it?’
He looked at her gravely through dark blue eyes set in a symmetrical face of spare but nonetheless neat, proportionate features. His nose seemed to be in perfect concert with his mouth, leading to clearly defined lips that were generous but not thick. His hair looked freshly combed, his chin was shaved and he was wearing quality attire. It was his hands that caught her attention and made her linger; some fingers were misshapen, as though they’d been broken. And of course his piercing gaze, once she engaged it again, arrested her, held her hostage. Now that she was close enough to stare deeply into his eyes, she saw pain buried behind the calm they projected.
‘Yes,’ he answered.
‘Of where, may I ask?’
‘Of nowhere in particular, your majesty. I was born in Morgravia but I have spent a lot of time living in and around the Great Forest.’
‘In the forest? Whatever for?’
‘Why not? One can learn a lot when one lives in peace.’
‘You sound like a philosopher, not a fighter.’
‘That’s because I am not a fighter, your majesty, although I was sent to protect you … by a friend.’
Florentyna felt her pulse quicken at his words. She was suddenly sure she could guess who that friend might be. ‘Father Hoolyn, perhaps we could shift these bodies. Dowager Saria must be laid out alone, please.’ She immediately thought of Darcelle. ‘My sister will …’ She heard her voice catching but cleared her throat. ‘My sister will wish to pay her respects.’
‘Of course,’ Hoolyn answered and began organising his Brothers.
‘Walk back with me, would you?’ she said to Cassien.
He nodded, fell in step.
‘Had I not lost consciousness and slipped from that man’s arms, you might well have killed me with that blade throw.’
‘Someone else might have, but not me.’ The claim was spoken so earnestly that she couldn’t help feeling vaguely charmed, rather than offended, by his arrogant words.
‘You are clearly confident of your skills, Master Cassien.’
‘They are the only aspects of the world I can control, I’m afraid, my queen. The rest is all extremely unpredictable.’ He smiled and this time she saw the crinkling around his eyes, the light of humour flaring within them.
‘How did you know we were in trouble?’
‘We were coming to Rittylworth from the north. And we had a good vantage point.’ He shrugged. ‘We saw everything unfolding.’
‘Did you know I was here?’
‘No. I saw people in trouble. We guessed you were not monks. It all looked wrong … even to Hamelyn. When you drew closer we could hear clearly.’
‘I see. You said you were sent to protect me. How did you know to help?’
‘I didn’t know anything other than I was helping three people under attack. When I discovered it was you, your majesty, I was as shocked as anyone might be.’
Florentyna nodded. ‘Were you on your way to Pearlis?’
‘Yes.’
She was aware of the boy trailing them. ‘Hamelyn too?’
‘No … and yes.’
‘How is that possible?’
‘No, he was not sent at the time that I was. Yes, he has deliberately joined forces with me to ensure your safety.’
Florentyna shook her head and regarded him. ‘You have me intrigued, Master Cassien.’
They’d reached the monastery and Florentyna knew they would not be left alone to talk until she’d extricated herself from the monks. Nevertheless, there was a burning question demanding to be asked. ‘We don’t have time right now for you to answer all of my questions but there is one I feel might explain plenty.’
‘I will answer whatever you ask of me, your majesty.’
‘Tell me then if a man by the name of Fynch sent you to me.’
He didn’t hesitate. ‘Yes, he did.’
It felt as though a flock of birds had just lifted off in her chest at his admission. Fynch. He was certainly determined.
‘He believes the Crown is under grave threat.’
‘So I gather,’ she said softly.
‘Have you heard of the Brotherhood, your majesty?’
She blinked, stunned. Those words were rarely uttered outside of Stoneheart. ‘Yes, of course, but I have no reason to —’
‘Forgive me,’ he murmured, looking over his shoulder, ‘but time is short. I am of the Brotherhood. Master Fynch believes there is a sinister force at work.’
She could tell he was choosing his words with care, speaking obliquely. Florentyna opted to be direct. ‘I don’t believe in demons, Master Cassien.’
‘Neither did I, your majesty, until I met Master Fynch … or Hamelyn here. There is more to say but now is not the moment,’ he said, noting that a fresh party of soldiers was waiting for them as they returned to the monastery’s cloisters.
Florentyna remembered Burrage’s promise to have more men waiting to escort her back to Stoneheart. She wished now with all her heart that she’d let him send an entire unit with her to Rittylworth and then perhaps Felyx and Brom, and even Saria, would still be alive.
‘Perhaps you’ll permit me to accompany you on your return to Pearlis?’ Cassien suggested. ‘We can continue our conversation when you’re safely back in familiar and secure surrounds.’
‘Yes, of course.’
She watched him bow his dark head and turn away but already she missed his quiet, strong presence.