Chapter 16
Pledge to Unite
The guards on the Maskil town wall watched a horse kick up dust on its approach to the gate. The rider reined in the stallion as he neared the six men defending the entrance. They saluted when they recognised their superior.
“Sergeant, out for a ride?” asked a dark-haired human.
“It’s a good day for one.” Bronwyn had no intentions of revealing where he’d gone. “I trust all is well in town.”
“A bit of rumpus at the castle. Otherwise, everything’s quiet.”
“What sort of rumpus?”
“The lords charged Lady Dasia’s murderer. They dealt out the punishment without delay, right at the inquest.”
Bronwyn wondered who they found guilty and if the person had been as innocent as Alaura. He quelled the anger threatening to invade his thoughts. Alaura rested safely; nothing else mattered. She’d receive quality healing in Beathas’ care. He wanted to stay by her side, but Beathas told him Alaura needed respite.
In a few days, Bronwyn, you’ll be able to see her again, she had said. For now, it’s best she recuperate in the silence of the cottage. You have done your duty.
“Do you know the name of the one charged?” he asked.
The guard shook his head. “Been stuck here and on the wall all day, sir, so I’m no witness. Just know it to be a hauflin.”
Bronwyn reined his horse forward. At the livery, he handed the animal over to the stable hand and made his way to his quarters. He found the halls strangely quiet, amplifying the growling in the pit of his stomach. Not until the return trip from Moon Meadow had he realised he hadn’t eaten the evening ration on the previous day or this morning’s ration. The past twenty-four hours had ignited a whirlwind of emotions, making him forget about food.
He keyed the door to his quarters and stepped inside. He’d make a few sandwiches then find Sanderson to brief him on the events which occurred after he rushed from the Throne Room with Alaura. As he pulled the bread from the bag, he detected movement out of the corner of his eye. He whirled about, drawing his sword to attack the intruder.
“Farlan! What are you doing here?” He re-sheathed his sword. His friend didn’t look up. He sat on the floor beside Isla’s bed with his back against the wall. His large frame drooped. If not for his shoulders rising and falling and the occasional movement of his hands hanging over his bent knees, he would have sworn he slept. “What’s wrong?”
Farlan’s hands flipped up then down. His body shook.
Bronwyn’s stomach churned, and he forgot his hunger. Bracing himself for the news, he sat on the edge of Isla’s bed. He rested his elbows on his knees, clasped his hands and glanced at his friend. He wondered how long he’d sat here, waiting, perhaps for his return. He noticed pumpkin seeds scattered about as if Farlan had thrown a handful against the wall. “Has this anything to do with what happened in the Throne Room?”
Farlan’s head bobbed up and down, but he continued to stare at the floor.
“Are you going to tell me about it?” He heard him snuffle.
“I couldn’t stop them.” Farlan’s hoarse voice shook.
“Couldn’t stop who?”
“The lords…the guards…the people. They acted like beasts of another plane.” He caught his breath and looked up. His red, wet eyes bulged from his flushed face. Blood seeped from the wounds around his eyes and mouth and mixed with his salty tears. “I couldn’t stop them.”
Bronwyn pulled back. He thought about getting the healing kit but sat frozen in place. “What did they do?”
“They murdered him.” He caught his breath. “They…they destroyed him. Everything good is gone.”
“At the inquest? The hauflin?”
He nodded.
“Who did they find guilty?”
Farlan banged his palms against his forehead. “Liam’s das!”
He recoiled. Impossible! “Are you certain it was him?”
“They dragged him to face the lords. He begged for his life. The crowd kept shouting he murdered Lady Dasia. I tried to reach him. But…” Farlan threw his head back and hit it against the stone wall. “I couldn’t. Lord Val…he…he drained his life. Right there! I fought to reach him. He was innocent. I know he was innocent!”
Bronwyn’s eyes swelled with unshed tears. An innocent man destroyed for the sake of finding a person to blame didn’t belong in Aruam Castle.
“They decimated his body.” Farlan choked on his spit. “The people stomped him. They chanted and stomped his poor little body. The guards didn’t stop them. A few joined in.” He wiped his face with the back of his sleeve, and coughed and sputtered. “Sanderson tried to regain order, but chaos filled the room.”
“What did the lords do? They should have taken control of the situation.”
“Nothing. They sat on their over-stuffed thrones and watched the spectacle. Lord Val”—Farlan gritted his teeth—“appeared indifferent to the life he took. He looked pleased with himself, as if he had taken care of business.”
“And Mulryan?”
“He sat there doing nothing, as if in a trance or stupor. All the lords except Lord Val looked as though they thought of other things.”
Bronwyn rubbed his rough hands over his face. He wanted to erase the day and start again, but he was no wizard.
“How am I going to face Liam after witnessing his das’ murder? It’s my duty to protect the innocent. I failed.” Farlan stared, desperate for an answer. “There’s an ache I can’t ease. I can’t get the image out of my head. His voice, begging for his life. The blood. The insane joy the citizens relished in as they crushed and disposed of the body. I can’t—” He caught his breath and stared in terror. “If you hadn’t stepped in, they’d have killed Alaura instead.”
Pain tore across Bronwyn’s face. Farlan’s revelation ruptured the security he felt living within the castle walls and the town. “No, I wouldn’t have let it happen.”
“You couldn’t have stopped them. They acted mad. Insane!”
“Then I would have died trying.” Bronwyn tried to steady his hands, but the thought of Alaura being drained of life and her body tortured beyond recognition overwhelmed him. Though he had recently left her, he wanted to run to her and reassure himself of her safety.
“I don’t know who to trust anymore.” Farlan locked his jaw. “Everyone there today had the chance to stop it, but no one did. Tibs”—he growled—“watched as if he enjoyed a good show at the theatre. He…he pushed a guard towards the mayhem, encouraging him to join in.” He leered at the dwarf. “I hate him.”
The loathing in his voice surprised Bronwyn. He didn’t trust Captain Tibbins, but he didn’t hate him.
“If he makes captain of the guard, I’ll relinquish my rank!”
Bronwyn eyed his friend. Anger fuelled his words. “Sanderson will never allow Tibs to claim his office.” He put up his hand to stop any comments to the contrary. “You may disagree with Sanderson about everything, but he can be trusted.”
“Captain Greenill is Tib’s pawn. He does whatever he’s told. He’s spineless. You’re the only one who’ll stand up to either of them. The other two sergeants are controlled by Tibs. I’ve watched them enough to know.”
He couldn’t disagree with Farlan. He’d watched the alliance grow over the years but hadn’t felt threatened by it until today.
“You’re the highest ranking guard who doesn’t question Sanderson’s authority.” An odd expression crossed Farlan’s face. He looked the dwarf up and down as if seeing him with new eyes. Then he scanned the room as if he tried to piece together a puzzle. When he finally spoke, his flat voice shocked Bronwyn. “You’re the only non-human with a rank higher than private.”
“That’s not true.”
Farlan shook his head. “Tibs sent Corporal Stephens on a quest last month, and he hasn’t returned. A human filled the elf’s position. Stephens was the last non-human corporal. And the junior corporals aren’t officially recognised by t
he lords—you know it.”
Bronwyn scratched his head. He couldn’t be right. What could be gained by having all ranking personnel one race? “Farlan, if this is true, why didn’t we notice before now?”
“Because we see everyone as equal. A dwarf life is as important as a human, as important as a hauflin.” Farlan swallowed hard. “And now, you’re the last one.”
Bronwyn shivered. The history of the town of Maskil placed all four races—dwarfs, hauflins, elves and humans—on equal ground. He’d felt safe as a dwarf living amongst humans.
“Tibs wanted you to go on a quest, so your position could be filled by a human.”
The words pulsated in Bronwyn’s head; could they be true? Thinking back over the year, about two dozen guards accepted quests. He’d have to check his records to be certain of their race, but he believed all were non-human.
“He won’t stop until…until you’re gone.”
Bronwyn shook his head in disbelief. “You’re wrong; you have to be. I’m certain the commotion over Lady Dasia’s murder has us thinking like this. We’ll see things clearer in the morning.”
“And Alaura? Will she see things as clear as she had this morning when she woke beside you? I saw the terror in her eyes when you rushed her from the Throne Room. She may never return.”
Bronwyn hung his head. He felt powerless to help the ones in need, as well as deal with the possibility his career as a castle guard would soon end. This was his life; he knew nothing else. Farlan’s assumptions had to be wrong. For his sake and for Maskil’s there had to be another explanation for this madness.
He wondered what to do next. Sanderson would tell him not to let anger cloud his thoughts. Act, don’t react. Take command of the situation.
“Farlan, are you slated for duty tonight?” When he nodded, Bronwyn said, “I’ll schedule another to take your place.” He walked to the water closet and retrieved the healing kit. He extracted a cloth and poured a cleansing solution on it. The human grabbed Bronwyn’s arm when he bent to clean the blood from his wounds.
“Don’t you see, Bronwyn? It doesn’t matter what we do.”
“It does matter. We can’t lose hope.” He pulled his arm free and wiped the blood from the cuts above Farlan’s eyes. “There has to be more than what we see.”
“And what if there isn’t?”
“Then we’ll need all our strength to conquer the evil invading our home. We must be wise, stay alert and recognise those loyal to the castle. We can’t abandon our post. If we do then all is lost.”
“Sanderson had tried to intervene but got caught up in the mob.” Farlan winced in pain as Bronwyn cleaned and bandaged his wounds. “After things settled, I found him on the floor coming to his senses. He got knocked unconscious and missed most of the action.”
“I know you two have your differences, but Sanderson is loyal to the castle, Maskil and his men. He’ll never steer you wrong. If I’m…” Bronwyn caught his breath. “If I’m not around, go to him with your concerns. Confide in him.”
“You’ll always be around.” Farlan placed a firm hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I’m not the only one watching your back.”
Bronwyn knew this, but it comforted him to hear it. He had many friends amongst the guards who would eagerly risk their life to save him. He finished tending the wounds and stood. “My shift is almost over. I’ll be back after I pick up Isla at Mum’s. Together, we’ll tell her what happened. We’ll leave out the details.”
Farlan looked away. “She’s going to ask questions. She’s a smart girl.”
“I can’t protect her from everything.”
Bronwyn left his quarters and headed for his office. He took a deep breath. The familiar warm air of the castle filled his lungs, and for a moment, he forgot his destination and the tragic events of the day. Giving his head a shake, he tried to focus on the task at hand. His best friend needed his support, and his men needed strong, confident leadership.