Sister Miram – the heaviest and thus most easily identified of the sisters – was passing through the courtyard with a basket of sweet bread for the children. The captain caught her eye, and waved.
‘The Abbess will want to hear this,’ he said to her. She put a biscuit in his hand with a look that might have curdled milk – a look of blanket disapproval.
There was a slip of vellum underneath it.
Meet me tonight
A bolt of lightning shot through him.
The Abbess arrived while he was still standing in his solar. He’d just stripped off his gauntlets and placed them on the sideboard, his helmet was still on his head. Sauce took it from him, and he turned to find the Abbess, hands clasped loosely in front of her, wimple starched and perfect, eyes bright.
The captain had to smile, but she did not return it.
He sighed. ‘We’ve lost another convoy coming to the fair – six leagues to the west, on the Albinkirk road. More than sixty dead. The survivors are panicking your people, and they aren’t helping mine much.’ He sighed. ‘In among them are refugees from Albinkirk, which, I am sorry to report, has fallen to the Wild.’
To Sauce, he said, ‘In future, no matter how badly off they are, take new refugees to Ser Milus. Let him keep their ravings contained.’
Sauce nodded. ‘I should have thought—’ she said wearily.
The captain cut her off. ‘No, I should have thought of it, Sauce.’
Wilful Murder shook his head. ‘It’s worse than you think, Captain. You’re not from around here, eh?’
The captain gave the archer a long look, and Wilful quailed.
‘Sorry, ser,’ he said.
‘It happens that I know the mountains to the north well enough,’ the captain said quietly.
Wilful was not so easily put down though. He produced something from his purse and put it on the table.
The Abbess turned as white as parchment when she saw it.
The captain raised an eyebrow.
‘Abenacki,’ he said.
‘Or Quost, or most likely Sassog.’ Wilful nodded respectfully. ‘So you are from around here.’
‘How many?’ the captain asked.
Wilful shook his head. ‘At least one. What kind of question is that?’ The feather he had placed on the table – a heron feather – was decorated with elaborate quillwork from a porcupine, the quills dyed bright red and carefully woven up the stem of the feather.
Wilful looked around, and then, like a conjuror, produced a second item, very like the first in look – a small pouch, decorated with complex leather braids. When his audience looked blank, he grinned his broken-toothed grin. ‘Irks. Five feet of muscle and all of it mean. They make amazing stuff. Fey folk, my mother used to call them.’ He looked at the Abbess. ‘They like to eat women.’
‘That’s enough, Wilful.’
‘Just saying. And there was tracks.’ He shrugged.
‘Nicely done, Wilful. Now give me some quiet.’ The captain pushed his chin towards the door.
Wilful might have been surly, but he found a silver leopard pushed across the table to him, too. He bit it, grinned and left.
The captain glanced at the Abbess as soon as they were alone. ‘What’s going on here?’ he asked in his pleasant but professional voice. ‘This isn’t the random violence of the Wild, an isolated incident, a murder, a couple of creatures come over the wall on a rampage. This is a war. Daemons, wyverns, irks and now the Outwallers. All we seem to lack is a few boglins, a goblin or two, and then maybe the Dragon will enter the field too. Abbess, if you know anything, I think this is the time to tell me.’
She met his gaze. ‘I can make some educated guesses,’ she said. Her lips curled down. ‘I gather that the youngest Lanthorn girl spent the night here?’ she said archly.
‘Yes she did. I raped her repeatedly and threw her naked into the courtyard in the morning,’ the captain said. His annoyance showed. ‘Damn it, this matters.’
‘And Kaitlin Lanthorn doesn’t? My Jesu says she matters as much as you do, ser knight. As much as I do. Perhaps more. And spare me your posturing, boy. I know why you’re so touchy. She spent the night with your squire. I know. I have just spent a few minutes with the girl. We spoke about this.’ She looked at him. ‘Will he marry her?’
‘You can’t be serious,’ the captain said. ‘He’s the son of a great lord. He may be on the outs with his family just now, but they’ll forgive him soon enough. His kind doesn’t marry farm sluts.’
‘She was a virgin a few days ago,’ the Abbess said. ‘Calling her a whore doesn’t make her one. Nor does it make you stand any better in my sight.’
‘Fine,’ said the captain. ‘She’s a fine upstanding lass with impeccable morals and my nasty squire got her to bed. I’ll see to it that he pays for it – both morally and financially. Now can we please talk about the true threat here?’
‘Maybe we already are. So far, no creature of the Wild has done so much harm as your men have done,’ the Abbess said.
‘Untrue, my lady. I swear on my word: I will see to it justice is done for this young woman. I confess that she looked quite unsluttish this morning, and very young. I am embarrassed my squire has acted in such a way.’
‘Like master, like man,’ the Abbess said.
The captain clenched his fists. He mastered himself, unclenched them, and steepled his hands instead.
‘I think you are avoiding the topic. Sister Hawisia was murdered. Her murder was planned. Perhaps she was the target – perhaps you were. The daemon that did the killing had inside help. The men who helped the daemon then fell out among themselves and one killed the other, burying his body on the west road. Shortly after, we arrived. We found a wyvern and killed it. Gelfred and I found a pair of daemons; one died and the other escaped. We scouted and found an army forming under a powerful sorcerer. As of this morning, the woods around us are full of enemies and the road to Albinkirk is cut. Albinkirk has fallen to the Wild, and I put it to you, my lady, that you know more than you are telling me. What is really going on here?’
She turned her head away. ‘I know nothing,’ she said, in a tone that merely showed that she was a poor liar.
‘You cut down the sacred grove? Your farmers are raping dryads? By all you hold holy, my lady Abbess, if you do not help me understand this, we’re all going to die here. This is a full invasion, the first that has been seen since your youth. Where have they come from? Has the north fallen? Why has the Wild come here in such strength? I grew up with the Wall. I’ve been to Outwaller villages, eaten their food. There are far more than we admit – tens of thousands. If they have come to support the Wild directly, we will be swept away in the sea of foes. So what exactly is happening here?’
The Abbess took a breath as if to steady herself, succeeded, and raised an eyebrow. ‘Really, Captain, I have no more idea than you. The actions of the savages are beyond me. And the Wild is just a name we give to an amalgam of evil, is it not? Is it not sufficient that we are holy, and seek to preserve ourselves, our God, and our way of life? And they seek to take that from us?’
The captain met her gaze and shook his head. ‘You know more than that. The Wild is not so simple.’
‘It hates us,’ the Abbess said.
‘That’s no reason to mass against you now,’ replied the captain.
‘There’s burned trees and new fields out east toward Albinkirk,’ Sauce said.
The Abbess turned, as if to reprimand the woman, but shrugged. ‘We have to expand as our people expand. More peasants to feed required more fields.’
The captain looked at Sauce. ‘How many burned trees? I don’t remember them.’
‘They’re not right along the road. I don’t know – ask Gelfred.’
‘They go all the way to Albinkirk,’ the Abbess admitted. ‘We agreed to burn the forest between us and bring in more farmers. What of it? It was the old king’s policy, and we need that land.’
The captain nodded. ‘It
was the old king’s policy, and it led to the Battle of Chevin.’ He rubbed his beard. ‘I hope that one of my messengers made it to the king, because right now we’re in a whole heap of shit.’
Michael came in with cups of wine. He flushed very red when he saw the Abbess.
The captain glanced at him. ‘All officers, Michael. Get Ser Milus from the Bridge Castle too.’
Michael sighed, served the wine, and left again.
The Abbess pursed her lips. ‘You wouldn’t abandon us,’ she said, but it was more a question than a statement.
The captain was looking through his window to the west. ‘No, my lady, I wouldn’t. But you must have known there would be a response.’
She shook her head, anger warring with frustration. ‘By Saint Thomas and Saint Maurice, Captain, you task me too heavily! I did no more than was my right, even my duty. The Wild was beaten – or so I’m told by both the sheriff and the king. Why should I not expand my holdings at the cost of some old trees? And when the killing started – Captain, understand that I had no idea that the killings were connected, not until—’
The captain leaned forward. ‘Let me tell you what I think,’ he said. ‘Hawisia unmasked a traitor, and died for it.’
The Abbess nodded. ‘It is possible. She asked to go to the outholdings when, ordinarily, I would have gone.’
‘She was your chancellor? The post Sister Miram holds now?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘No. She had more power then the other sisters, but she was too young to hold an office.’
‘And she was widely disliked,’ Sauce said.
The Abbess flinched, but she didn’t deny it.
The captain had his head in his hands. ‘Never mind. We’re here now and so are they. It’s my guess that the Jacks, or the daemons, or both, were going to kill you and seize the Abbey in a coup de main; Hawisia ruined it all somehow, either by confronting the traitor or by taking your place. We may never know.’ He shook his head.
The Abbess looked at her hands. ‘I loved her,’ she said.
The Red Knight knelt by her and put his hands on hers. ‘I swear I will do my best to hold this fortress and save you. But, my lady, I still feel you know something more. There is something personal about all this, and you still have a traitor within your walls.’ When she didn’t answer him, he got up from his knee. She kissed his cheek, and he smiled. He handed her a cup of wine.
‘Not your usual contract, ser knight,’ she said.
‘Damn it, my lady, this is my usual contract: it’s a war between rival barons, except that this time the rival baron can’t be negotiated with or turned from his path or simply murdered, and they are all good ways of avoiding a knock-down fight. But in every other respect you and the Wild are feuding border lords. You’ve taken a piece of his land, and in turn he’s raiding you and threatening your home.’
As the captain spoke, his officers trickled in – Bad Tom, Ser Milus, Ser Jehannes, Wilful Murder, and Bent. The others were either asleep or on patrol.
The Abbess was brought a chair.
‘Park wherever you can,’ the captain said. ‘I’ll try and make this brief. I’d say we’re almost surrounded, and our enemy hasn’t bothered to build trench lines and trebuchets. Yet. But he’s got enough force to close the woods and every road around us. He’s got Outwallers – who are those men and women who live in the Wild, for you godless foreigners.’ The captain gave Ser Jehannes a mirthless smile. ‘I’m guessing he has a hundred or more Outwallers, a thousand irks, and perhaps fifty to a hundred other creatures of the types we’ve already seen – wyverns, daemons and the like.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m guessing our enemy is a potent magus.’
Bad Tom whistled. ‘Lucky we didn’t get ourselves killed trying for their camp then.’
The captain nodded. ‘When you move fast and plan well, you deserve a little luck,’ he said. ‘But yes, I’d say that getting away with that raid seized our luck with both hands.’
‘So now what?’ Sauce asked.
‘First, Jehannes, you are now the constable. Ser Milus, you are now marshal. Tom, you are now first lance. Sauce, you are now a corporal. In one sweep, I’m short three knights. Milus, are there any likely lads in your refugees? The merchants?’
Milus scratched under his chin. ‘Archers? Hell, yes. Men-at-arms? Not a one. But I’ll tell you what there is down in my little kingdom – there’s two wagon loads of armour in barrels, and some nice swords, and a dozen heavy arbalests. All for sale at the fair, of course.’
‘Better than what we have?’ the captain asked.
‘White plate – the new hardened breastplates.’ Ser Milus licked his lips. ‘The swords are good, the spearheads better. The arbalests as heavy as anything we have.’
The Abbess smiled. ‘Those were for me, anyway.’
The captain nodded. ‘Take it all. Tell the owners we’ll give them chits for it and settle up at the end if we’re still alive. How heavy are these arbalests?’
‘Bolts a forearm in length and thick as a child’s wrist,’ Ser Milus said.
‘Put them on frames. Two for you and the rest up here for me.’ The captain looked at the Abbess. ‘I want to build an outwork.’
‘Anything you like,’ she said.
‘I want to put all your farmers and all the refugees to work and I want your help seeing that I get no insolence from them. I need them to work quickly and be quiet.’ The captain took out a scroll of parchment and unrolled it.
‘My squire is a gifted young man, and he drew this,’ he said. Michael flushed uncontrollably. ‘We want a deep V-shape of walls on both sides and ditches outside the walls; built three hundred paces from Bridge Castle, where the road from the Lower Town starts up the hill. It will allow us to send soldiers and supplies freely back and forth from the Lower Town to Bridge Castle. Put boards all along the bottom so men can walk quickly, without being seen, and put three bridges over it, so our sorties can move easily about the fields. See this cutaway? A nice hollow space under the boards. Good place for a little surprise.’ He grinned and most of the soldiers grinned back.
‘We’ll also put a wall along the Gate Road, running all the way to the top. We should have done it in the first place, anyway. Towers here and here, on earth bastions.’ He rubbed his beard. ‘First, we put in covered positions for these new frame crossbows – here and here – so that if they attack while we’re building, it’s all a trap and they lose a couple of their own for nothing. Last, we improve the path from the postern gate to the Lower Town.’
All the soldiers nodded.
Except Tom. Tom spat. ‘We don’t have the fucking men to hold all that wall,’ he said. ‘Much less in both directions.’
‘No we don’t. But building it will keep the peasants quiet and busy, and when our enemy attacks we’re going to make him pay for it, and then let him have it.’
Tom grinned. ‘Of course we are.’
The captain turned to the others. ‘I’m assuming that our enemy doesn’t have a lot of experience in fighting men,’ he said. ‘But even if he does, we won’t have lost much with these distractions.’
The Abbess looked pained. Her eyes had a hunted look, and she turned away. ‘He is a man. Or he was, once.’
The captain winced. ‘We face a man?’
The Abbess nodded. ‘I have felt the brush of his thought. He has some small reason to – to fear me.’
The captain looked at her, gazing as intently as a lover into her flecked brown and blue eyes, and she held his gaze as easily as he held hers.
‘It is none of your affair,’ she said primly.
‘You are not telling us things that would be of value to us,’ the captain said.
‘You, on the other hand, are the very soul of openness,’ she replied.
‘Get a room,’ Tom muttered under his breath.
The captain looked at Ser Milus. ‘We cut the patrols down to two a day, and we launch them at my whim. Our sole remaining interest is getting any more convoys i
n here safely, or in turning them away. Albinkirk is gone. Sauce – how far did you go today?’
She shrugged. ‘Eight leagues?’
The captain nodded. ‘Tomorrow – no, tomorrow we won’t send anything. Not a man. Tomorrow we dig. The day after, we send four patrols, in all directions except west. The day after that, I’ll take half the company west along the road, as fast as we can go. We’ll aim for twenty leagues, pick up merchants or convoys we can, and get a look at Albinkirk. Then back here, all with enough force to kill whatever opposes us.’
Tom nodded. ‘Aye, but against a hundred Outwallers, in an ambush, we’ll just be dead. And that’s without a couple of daemons and maybe a pair of wyverns and a hundred irks to eat our bodies afterwards. Eh?’
The captain wrinkled his lips. ‘If we surrender the initiative and hunker down here we’re all dead too,’ he said. ‘Unless the king comes with his army to relieve us.’
The Abbess agreed.
‘For all I know the Wall fortresses have already fallen,’ the captain said. His eyes narrowed, as if the subject had particular interest to him. ‘Whatever the case, we cannot count on any help from the outside, nor can we hope that this is an isolated incident. We have to behave as if we have an unending supply of men and materiel, and we have to try to keep the road east open. We need to lure our enemy into some battles of our choosing.’ He looked around at his officers. ‘Everyone understand?’ He looked at the Abbess. ‘We have to be ready to destroy the bridge.’
She nodded. ‘There’s a phantasm to do it. I have it. It is regularly maintained: when a certain key is turned in the gate lock, the bridge will fall into the river.’
The officers nodded their approval.
The captain stood. ‘Very well. Ser Milus, Ser Jehannes, you are in charge of my construction project. Tom, Sauce, you will lead the patrols. Bent, get the arbalest frames up, and placed in those four covered positions,’ he smiled, ‘where Michael marked them. Bent, take charge of running the rotations inside the fortress too. Don’t worry about who is a man-at-arms, who’s a valet, who’s an archer. Just get the numbers right.’