Battle for Elt: The Taking of the Wizard Bearer Read online

“What's that smell?” Mollock said.

  “Probably my temper. It’s bad. Now move back.”

  “Smells like bread.”

  “Bread?” Bread, Fabian thought. Of course. He lifted Poppy's homemade bread from his pocket. “You want this?”

  Mollock nodded his head vigorously and hopped from one foot to the other like an excited child.

  Fabian unwrapped the bread and then held it out to the troll. Mollock snatched it and turned away. Trolls were secret eaters, Fabian recalled.

  The old wizard looked down at his pet squaggle who looked back at him with small, blinking black eyes. I know, Quiggly, Fabian thought. I hope he doesn't break his teeth on the bread too, or worse – be violently sick. He recalled the dreadful taste of Poppy's porridge and waited anxiously for the troll to finish eating.

  Seconds later the troll turned back around.

  “Have you anymore?” the troll said. On his chin, a few breadcrumbs remained.

  Fabian let out a sigh of relief. “I'm afraid that's it. Now, can we pass?”

  Mollock looked upset, like his favourite toy had been taken away from him. “I suppose. The bread was better than any coin.” Mollock stepped to one side.

  “The path is clear, Quiggly,” Fabian said. “Let's go.”

  The old wizard raised his hat to the troll as he walked past. Once they were over the bridge, they walked into the woods where tall evergreens stood guard. The path was hidden by a carpet of snow, but Fabian knew his way, having walked this route a hundred times or more.

  CHAPTER 14

  “Just what are you saying?” King Bahlinger said to Lambert Germain. The old steward ran a bony had over his bald head, flattening the odd strands of wiry white hair that grew there.

  Bahlinger wanted breakfast, but he couldn’t eat until the rest of the council arrived. Thus far, only Lambert Germain was present.

  Lambert looked around with a worried expression on his old face, causing the skin on his forehead to crease into lines that reminded Bahlinger of waves washing onto a beach. “Gaillart Gregory was not in his chambers on the night before last.”

  “The night the wizard bearer was taken?”

  “Yes.”

  “But that's not odd.” The king paused while a servant brought a large plate of meat to the table. When she was gone, he continued. “He's the Grand Master, the head of our military muscle. He was no doubt busy trying to find out what the hell had gone on.”

  “No,” Lambert said, shaking his head with vigour. “He was missing prior to the wizard bearer's taking.”

  King Bahlinger sat back in his chair and thought for a moment. He had much dislike for the Grand Master, but he didn't think he was a traitor. “Gaillart likes the ladies, does he not?”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “Then he could have been frequenting an inn, enjoying the fruits of some young whore.”

  Lambert leaned forward. “Your Majesty, I've checked and he wasn't.”

  “You checked all the inns and adjoining brothels? I'm told there are many. That's something we must hold counsel about. I won't have Kingstown turning into The Warrens.”

  “I need only check the one brothel. He has a favourite.”

  “Does he? I didn't think he was that loyal.”

  “We digress, Sire. I checked the only brothel he visits, and he wasn't there.”

  King Bahlinger stroked his round belly. “And this is all you've come up with? I asked you to sniff out the rat.”

  “We will interview the staff this morning, after breakfast. I don't want to believe that Gaillart has anything to do with Cassandra's disappearance, but I think he has some questions to answer before we can eliminate him from all involvement.”

  “He's not going to take kindly to that.” Another servant girl brought food to the table. It was the pretty one with the fiery red hair and the ample cleavage. Bahlinger sucked in his gut and straightened his posture. She placed a plate of bread on the table and then smiled at him. She's flirting with me, he thought. Just like yesterday.

  Lambert didn't seem to notice. “Maybe we should wait until after counsel, then. To talk to Gaillart, I mean.”

  “Yes,” Bahlinger said, hardly listening. “We'll do that.”

  “Can I get you some wine, Your Majesty?” the servant girl said. My, she has the most delicious of figures. He imagined untying her bodice and found himself aroused. Before breakfast, too. That doesn't happen very often these days.

  “Yes, yes. Wine would be nice.”

  She walked around to his side of the table. He marvelled at the way her hips swayed. Just like on the day prior, she bent while pouring his wine. The king looked down her dress, salivating at the sight of her breasts, which, due to the tightness of her bodice, were pushed together like two ripe melons.

  “What's your name, child?” he said.

  “Amy. Amy Hasbrook.”

  “Well, Amy. You're very nice. Such a treat to my eyes on this cold winter's morning.”

  Her freckled cheeks burned nearly as red as her hair. “Thank you, Sire.”

  With that, she turned and walked back to the kitchen. Bahlinger watched her go.

  “She didn't offer me any?” Lambert said.

  “Huh?” Bahlinger said, turning back to the old steward.

  “Wine. She didn't offer me any wine. Seems like you're her favourite.”

  It was Bahlinger's turn to blush. “I'm her king. Of course I'm her favourite. Without me, she wouldn't have a job.”

  “Seems to me it was more than that. It also seems to me that the attraction was mutual.” Lambert raised an eyebrow, causing the lines to reappear on his forehead.

  “You're a fool,” Bahlinger snapped. He pointed a fork at Lambert and said: “Don't let me hear you repeat that when Rose is around.” He reached over the table and stabbed his fork into a piece of red meat.

  “Starting without us?” Rose said, gliding into the Great Hall as if she were on wheels. She was wearing an emerald green morning dress that shimmered in the light of the open fire. Walking beside her was their daughter, Everlyn, wearing a similar dress but in pale blue. Where Rose looked elegant and ladylike, Everlyn looked awkward and boyish. She was just shy of seventeen. But not as beautiful as her mother had been at a similar age, Bahlinger remembered as he watched his wife approach the table.

  “I'm hungry,” the king said before stuffing the piece of red meat into his mouth.

  “You're always hungry, Daddy,” Everlyn said.

  Lambert stood. “Good morning, Your Majesty. Good morning, Everlyn. You're both looking exceptionally beautiful this morning.”

  Lambert was a charmer, Bahlinger knew. And Everlyn is not beautiful. He had heard the servants joking about her boyish looks. “She's more like a prince than a princess,” they would say.

  “Thank you, Lambert,” Rose said, taking her seat next to the king. “Although I hardly slept last night, so I doubt I'll look beautiful to anyone other than you.”

  “Why did you not sleep, my dear?” Bahlinger said, chewing.

  “Cassandra is still missing, if you hadn’t noticed. I take it we haven’t had a bird from High Hunsley this morning? I know how you like to keep these snippets of information a secret.”

  The king signed deeply. All day she'll be in this mood. “No, my dear. No bird and no word.”

  “We'll be telling Gaillart to assemble his men, then?”

  “Let's not be too hasty, Rose. We'll discuss this when all council is present, just like you reminded me I should have done yesterday. I still think we should wait before committing our men, however.”

  “We'll see,” Rose said, sharply.

  The table was full of food by the time Gaillart Gregory and Herman Lewis arrived. Bahlinger was busy chewing on a chicken leg.

  “Hurry up and be seated,” the king said through a mouth of food. “Let's get this over with.”

  “No word from your Dark Rider?” Gaillart said, his voice mocking.

  “I think you know
the answer to that, Gaillart.”

  “Do we ready our army, then?” Herman said. The thin man reached across the table for a boiled egg. The king knew it was probably all the chamberlain would eat on this morning. He'll fill the rest of his belly with wine.

  “It would leave us severely vulnerable, Herman,” Bahlinger said. “I vote we leave it until lunchtime. The weather is was dreadful out there last night. It might be the bird has died in flight. Stetland may arrive with the wizard bearer at any moment.”

  “That's horse shit,” Gaillart snapped. Bahlinger could feel Rose prickle beside him.

  “Will you watch your language,” Rose said. “Especially with my daughter present.”

  At sixteen years of age, Bahlinger was sure his daughter had heard such language many times before. She spent a lot of time around the stables tending to her horses and the stable boys had crude mouths, Bahlinger knew. Rose hated that her daughter spent so much time around the lower classes, but Everlyn was a strong-willed child. “I won't catch a disease from them, Mother,” she would often say.

  Gaillart apologised for his choice of language to both Rose and Everlyn. The princess looked embarrassed by the fuss.

  “If we were to send our army this morning,” Rose said, “they could reach High Hunsley by nightfall, despite the snow.”

  “We need to know if High Hunsley has pledged its allegiance to Volk,” Gaillart said, “We cannot sit around while Volk builds alliances around us. We need to show Merek that we have the strength to fight him.”

  “But we don't have the numbers,” Bahlinger argued, even though he knew it was futile.

  “I've received a bird from your father, Your Majesty,” Gaillart said to Rose. “Lord Holster's men will arrive by the morn.”

  “Then let's wait another day before we commit our men,” Bahlinger said.

  “And let Cassandra slip further from our grasp?” Rose said. “They could be halfway down the Great Road by now, two days from Wyke.”

  “Have you spoken to Cassandra's parents?” Herman Lewis said before taking a swig of wine from his goblet. The first of many, no doubt.

  “Yes, unfortunately,” Bahlinger said. “They came to see me late last night.”

  “And what did you tell them?”

  “I told them that their daughter was probably being raped in one of High Hunsley's seedy establishments—”

  “Bahlinger!” Rose snapped.

  “Well, what do you think I told them, Herman?” The king took a swig of wine himself. “I told them that their daughter was on her way back.”

  “You told them we'd found her?” Lambert said.

  Bahlinger felt every pair of eyes around the table boring into his skull. He put the goblet down and brushed crumbs from his tunic. “What was I supposed to say?”

  “You should have told them we were still awaiting word from the army you'd sent,” Rose said, rubbing her forehead. You really shouldn't do that, my dear, Bahlinger thought. It really enhances your wrinkles. “I take it you did tell them you’d sent an army and not four fools and an untrained wizard?”

  “Of course,” Bahlinger snapped.

  “Do you now admit that sending Stetland was a ridiculous idea?”

  “No. I think it was the right thing to do, under the circumstances.”

  “Time is slipping away,” Gaillart interjected. “Shall we vote on this?”

  “I guess,” Bahlinger said. But ultimately it's my decision.

  “All those in favour of sending a thousand soldiers raise their hands.”

  Gaillart had already raised his hand. Bahlinger looked around the table. Rose put her hand in the air next. Herman Lewis followed. Other than the king, only Lambert Germain kept his hand down.

  “Three to two in favour, then,” Gaillart announced.

  “What about Everlyn?” Bahlinger said.

  “She's not part of the council.”

  “She often takes part in the voting.”

  “For fun, yes.”

  “And she's listened to all we've had to say.”

  Everlyn was chewing on food as everyone turned to look at her. Colour rose in her cheeks. She placed her fork down on the plate and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. I must tell her to be more ladylike.

  “Erm,” she began. She picked some food from her back teeth and then said: “It seems to me that a confrontation with High Hunsley is the last thing we need. Especially when we have little proof of Lord Merek's involvement in Cassandra's taking. There could be clashes. We could lose a good portion of our men in a needless battle and that will leave Kingstown vulnerable.” The princess pushed a loose strand of her brown hair away from her face. “I'm keeping my hand down.”

  “Three against three,” Bahlinger said. He folded his arms over his large gut and smiled at his daughter.

  “Lambert,” Rose said, “explain why you kept your hand down.”

  The old, bald-headed steward coughed into his hand and then said: “I believe sending men will leave us too vulnerable.”

  “The fighting is leagues away,” Gaillart said, dismissively.

  “Then let's send half that number,” Herman suggested.

  “Five hundred men is pitiful,” Gaillart said. “We'd be laughed at. It's all or nothing.”

  “Then it's my choice,” Bahlinger said. But my life would be a lot easier if I just went along with my wife's decision.

  “I urge you, Bahlinger,” Gaillart said, leaning forward. “If anything happens to the wizard bearer and our people find out that you failed to send adequate force to bring her back, then unrest will be upon this city. You'll need more than a thousand soldiers to protect you then.”

  “Father,” Everlyn said. “You don't need a war with High Hunsley. Send a bird and wait for word back.”

  “Whatever comes back will be a lie,” Gaillart said.

  “The choice is yours, Sire,” Lambert said.

  “Do the right thing, Bahlinger,” Rose said. “Or your life will be hell.” Her grey-blue eyes narrowed, her stare cold.

  Bahlinger mulled over the decision.

  Amy Hasbrook, the fiery-haired servant girl, brought more meat to the table. Is her top pulled down even lower today? The king stared at the curve of her cleavage, the skin milky white and smooth. I bet she likes powerful men. I bet she's only ever had simple stable boys who fumble with her tits and come in their underclothes before she's even undressed. Amy came to the king's side of the table to refill his goblet. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to run his hand up the inside of her thigh and make her cry out loud.

  “This is an important decision,” Bahlinger said, returning his thoughts to the wizard bearer. “Only a king such as I can make this decision.” He looked at Amy to make sure she was listening. He was sure she was. “I've lead many an army into battle and returned unscathed every time.”

  “When you were somewhat slimmer and much younger,” Rose said.

  Across the table, Gaillart sniggered. Amy was still filling goblets. All of a sudden, he didn't feel as powerful and as mighty as he wanted the young servant girl to believe he was.

  “I could tell you stories,” Bahlinger continued, “about the men I slew in the name of freedom.”

  “While you were surrounded by knights,” Rose said, “who shielded you from danger.”

  Bahlinger made his hand into a fist and banged it on the table top. Amy jumped, spilling wine onto the floor. “I've made my decision,” the king said. “Volk and Lord Merek need to be reminded that I am the king of Elt. The only king. Ready the army, Gaillart. We're going to breach the walls of High Hunsley, take back our wizard bearer, and hang Lord Merek for treason.”

  “Finally,” Gaillart said, clapping. “The man speaks sense.”

  “Father?” Everlyn said, her voice full of questioning.

  “I'm sorry, Your Majesty,” Amy said. “I've spilled the wine. I'll go fetch a cloth.”

  Bahlinger watched her go; the feeling of power had returned. If Rose wasn't prese
nt, he thought, I'd pull the servant girl onto my knee and force my tongue into her mouth. I'd bet she'd like that.

  “Are you sure you're making the right decision, Sire?” Lambert said, his voice meek and mild.

  “Oh, be quiet, Lambert,” Bahlinger snapped. “You heard Gaillart, we'll have reinforcements here by the morn, courtesy of Lord Holster.”

  “Why did you change your mind, Father?” Everlyn said. “War eats men. It's unlikely all of them will return. And the people of this city need to know they are protected.”

  “An argument for another day, my sweet,” Bahlinger said, as soothingly as his big voice would allow.

  Everlyn made a grunt of disgust, pushed her chair away from the table, and stormed from the Great Hall.

  “She's got spirit, that girl,” Gaillart said. “Right, I better ready the troops.”

  The Grand Master stood and left the hall.

  “I'm going to retire to my chambers,” Rose said. “I'll try to get a little sleep. Tonight’s celebrations will kill me if I don't.”

  Soon, only Lambert Germain remained around the table.

  “We were supposed to be asking Gaillart about his whereabouts last night,” the old steward said, raising his white, bushy eyebrows.

  “It'll wait until later,” Bahlinger said, waving his comment away.

  “As you wish.”

  Lambert stood as Amy returned with a cloth in hand.

  “I'll speak with you later, Lambert,” Bahlinger said. He didn't really notice the steward leave the room as he was too busy watching the servant girl wiping the floor on all fours.

  “How long have you worked here, child?” Bahlinger said.

  “Six months, Your Majesty,” she said. She continued to wipe the floor, but occasionally looked up. Her fiery hair was tied into a bun at the back of her neck. Bahlinger looked at the skin there and imagined kissing it. “I've mainly worked in the kitchen, but just of late I've been allowed to serve the table.”

  “I thought I hadn't seen you before. I'd remember a girl like you.”

  Amy stood and looked around. “Are we alone?”

  “Why, yes.”

  She played with the cloth in her hand.

  “Are you a good king? Not mean?”