Frostborn: The Master Thief (18 page)

And he definitely would prefer not to die at the hands of Rotherius and the murderous madmen of the Red Family of Mhor. 

Then Rotherius beckoned, and the assassins stepped back.

“This is not over, Ridmark Arban,” said Rotherius. “You will not escape the vengeance of the Red Family.” He barked a harsh laugh. “And perhaps you will not live out the night. The judgment of Mhor takes many forms, and even unwitting infidels can be his instruments.”

The assassins vanished into the shadows. 

Ridmark let out a long breath, then turned and ran back for the main street. The Mhorite orcs would be attacking the wreckage of the Crow’s Helm.

But the orcs were gone. Armored horsemen sat before the inn, and Ridmark recognized Sir Cortin Lamorus as he spoke with Caius. A woman in a white robe sat atop a horse next to him, and…

Ridmark froze, his blood turning to ice.

Aelia. It was Aelia, looking just as she did the day Ridmark had failed…

Then the woman looked at him, and he saw the hatred in her green eyes.

“Well,” said Imaria Licinius. “My sister’s murderer deigns to join us.” 

Chapter 11 - A Wanted Man

Calliande looked back and forth between Ridmark and the Magistria. 

“My lady Imaria?” said Cortin. 

Calliande had heard that name before, when she had spoken with Sir Constantine Licinius, son and heir of the Dux Gareth Licinius and Knight of the Soulblade. He had also been the brother of Aelia and Imaria, and according to Constantine, Imaria blamed Ridmark for Aelia’s death. 

“Do you not, Sir Cortin,” said Imaria, pointing at Ridmark, “recognized the murderer that slew my sister?”

Cortin frowned. “Wait.” He spurred his horse closer. “You. I know you. My lord Ridmark?”

“I am not a lord,” said Ridmark. 

“I heard that you returned,” said Cortin. “When the leftover Mhalekites attacked Dun Licinia a month and a half past.” He scratched at his jaw. “I never thought to see you alive again. A Swordbearer severed from his Soulblade…most wither away and die of despair. Or so I have heard. Ridmark Arban.” He shook his head. “My God.”

“You would greet your brother’s murderer so calmly, Sir Cortin?” said Imaria, her lip curling in disgust. 

Cortin scowled. “Sir Ridmark did not murder my brother. Cormalon fell fighting valiantly against the Mhalekites. It is an insult to his memory to claim that Ridmark murdered him.”

Imaria scowled right back at him. The Magistria turned her horse toward Ridmark and walked it forward a few steps, glaring at him. Her every line radiated fury. The magic of the Magistri could not harm other mortals, but if it could, Calliande was sure Imaria would have struck down Ridmark then and there.

“You should have died,” said Imaria. “You should have died instead of Aelia. She was better than you. She deserved better than you.”

“I agree,” said Ridmark, his eyes as dead as his voice. 

That only enraged Imaria further. “Why did you come back? You crawled off into the Wilderland when you were exiled. You should have died there.” 

“The Frostborn,” said Ridmark. 

“The Frostborn?” said Imaria, her voice rising. “Still? You have ranted about the Frostborn for years. Gothalinzur warned you against the Frostborn. The Warden spoke about the Frostborn. Mhalek gloated about the Frostborn in the final moments before he died. We all thought you were a mad fool. Even Aelia thought it, though she was too blinded by affection to see you for the madman you were. And then after you killed Aelia, you clung to this madness, as if it was your hope of salvation for your crimes…”

“Mad I may be,” said Ridmark, “but I am not wrong.”

Cortin looked back and forth between them. 

“Five years in the wilderness has not taught you otherwise?” spat Imaria. 

“This is not folly,” said Ridmark. “The omen of blue fire forty-eight days ago? That was the herald of the return of the Frostborn. Within a year and a month of the blue fire. Somewhere. I don’t know where or how, but…”

“Enough!” said Imaria. “Do you ever stop spouting lies?”

“The Frostborn are coming back,” said Ridmark. “Tell your father. Tell the High King. The realm has to be ready…”

Imaria snarled fury, yanked a dagger from her belt, and spurred her horse toward Ridmark. He made no move to defend himself, no move to dodge. To her horror, Calliande realized that he was just going to stand there. “Ridmark!” she said. 

Morigna stepped forward. If she used her earth magic in front of Imaria, the Magistria could claim that Ridmark had smuggled a renegade sorceress into the realm, that Cortin had no choice but to take them all in custody. Calliande drew a deep breath and summoned power, preparing to intervene.

“My lady Magistria!” said Cortin. “Hold! Hold, I say!” 

Imaria stopped, turned in the saddle, and glared at him. “You would let this vermin live?” 

“I suggest,” said Caius, “that we have more immediate problems.” He gestured with his bloody mace at the dead Mhorite orcs. “You may or may not believe us about the Frostborn, but Kothluuskan orcs are in the Outwall, and they will harm others unless they are stopped.”

“You speak well, Brother Caius,” said Cortin. “Magistria, wait a moment. We shall deal with Sir Ridmark soon.”

Imaria drew herself up. “You dare to give me commands? I am a Magistria and…”

“I do not care if you are the High Queen and the Mother of God rolled into one,” said Cortin. His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it. “My father appointed me the marshal of Coldinium, and until he revokes this appointment, I am in command here. You may advise, but you certainly will not attack travelers without cause. Have I made myself clear?” 

“Abundantly,” said Imaria. “Dux Tarrabus would be wroth to hear you speak to me in such a tone.” 

Cortin smiled. “And what relationship do you have with the Dux that he would care what you think?”

Imaria’s green eyes narrowed, but she said nothing else.

“Sir Ridmark,” said Cortin, “the rest of you, stay here. I wish to question you.” 

Ridmark said nothing.

“Of course, sir knight,” said Caius. “We shall be happy to offer aid in any way we can.” 

“Capital,” said Cortin. “If more of these Mhorites descend upon the city, we shall need the aid of every fighting man.” He turned to his knights and men-at-arms and gave orders. Some of them galloped off, carrying his instructions to the city proper. Imaria remained on her horse, glaring at Ridmark. Calliande crossed to Ridmark’s side, and felt Imaria’s cold gaze shift to her. Morigna joined them as well, shooting an expression of supreme, haughty indifference at Imaria that rankled the Magistria further. 

“That Magistria,” said Calliande in a low voice, “that is…”

“Aelia’s sister, yes,” said Ridmark. “She is…not fond of me.”

“Or anyone, one would expect,” said Morigna. “She does not seem to have a knack for winning friends.”

Calliande swallowed the biting remark that came to her lips. In this, she and Morigna were on the same side. “She will try to have you killed if she can. Or hand you over to Tarrabus Carhaine.”

“I know,” said Ridmark. “I won’t try to stop her if she does.”

“What?” said Calliande. “Why not?”

“She’s right,” said Ridmark. His voice was calm, but his eyes were dead. “I did kill Aelia. It was my fault, my folly. I should have saved her. I should…”

“Stop it,” said Calliande. “That is madness.”

“No,” said Ridmark. “It is justice. I…

“You are not,” said Morigna, voice cold and hard, “going to kill yourself to appease the pride of that arrogant harridan upon the horse. I have a debt to you, Ridmark Arban, and I promised to see you to Urd Morlemoch. I can hardly fulfill that debt if you get yourself killed at the whim of some fool Magistria.”

“As loathe as I am to say this,” said Calliande, “for once I am in complete agreement with Morigna. You promised to help me find Dragonfall, and you cannot do that if you are dead. If Imaria Licinius kills you, that would be a useless death. ”

Ridmark looked between them, and for a moment he looked utterly exhausted. Then he took a breath, something like sanity returning to his eyes. “Yes. Yes, you are right. It is my duty to press on. I…forgive me. Seeing her was a shock.”

“It has been a long night for us all,” said Calliande, gesturing at the dead orcs.

“And it is not over yet,” said Morigna.

“Now,” said Sir Cortin. “What happened here? I suggest you tell me everything.”

“So be it,” said Ridmark. “You saw the omen of blue flame forty-eight days past?” Cortin nodded. “You know I went to Urd Morlemoch nine…”

“Lies and ravings,” spat Imaria, “from the diseased mind of a murderous madman.”

“Peace, Magistria,” said Cortin. “You are here to advise. Do not interrupt again.”

Her glare was just short of murderous, but she fell silent.

“You know I went to Urd Morlemoch nine years ago,” said Ridmark. “The Warden warned me this would happen, that the omen of blue fire would herald the return of the Frostborn. So when the fire filled the sky, I resolved to return to Urd Morlemoch once more, to learn where the Frostborn would return and how I could stop them.”

“Perhaps you are mad,” said Cortin, voice quiet. “Few enough can claim to have entered Urd Morlemoch and returned even once. To go a second time is indeed madness. That is why you are in Coldinium? Passing through on your way to the Torn Hills?”

“In part,” said Ridmark. “Along the way I have gained…companions. You have met Brother Caius.” The dwarven friar offered a bow. “This is Morigna and Calliande, and Gavin of Aranaeus and Kharlacht of Vhaluusk.” He looked around, but Calliande saw no sign of Jager. Likely the halfling had taken the opportunity to flee.

Or, if he truly served Tarrabus Carhaine, to report to his master. 

“A Vhaluuskan orc,” said Cortin. “Are you in league with the Kothluuskans?”

“No,” said Kharlacht, his voice a rumble. “The tribes of Vhaluusk are hard and brutal, but even they think the orcs of Kothluusk are mad. And I am baptized, and all my kin are dead. I follow the Gray Knight because I have nowhere else to go.” 

“One renegade deserves another,” said Imaria.

“Enough,” said Cortin. “These Mhorite orcs were after you, were they not? A curious coincidence to find them here.” 

“They were after me,” said Ridmark.

“Why?” said Cortin. “Did you offend them in some way?” 

“Repeatedly,” said Ridmark. “You know of the Red Family of Cintarra?”

Imaria laughed. “A myth. A cult of organized assassins, operating out of the realm’s largest city? The High King and the Duxi would never allow it.”

“I have heard the name,” said Cortin. 

“I killed several of their assassins in the last few months,” said Ridmark. “The assassins worship Mhor, and the orcs of Kothluusk believe they are heralds or prophets of the blood gods. So the Red Family commanded Mournacht and his warriors to drive me here so they could kill me.”

Cortin frowned. “How do you know this?”

“Behind the inn,” said Ridmark. “Four of the Red Family were waiting for me.” Calliande looked over her shoulder in alarm. “They would have slain me, but they fled at your arrival.” 

“Then it is a pity,” said Imaria, “that we did not tarry.”

Cortin rubbed his jaw with an armored hand. “A fantastical tale. You were many things, Sir Ridmark, but you were never a liar.” 

“Surely you do not believe this nonsense,” said Imaria.

“There is no reason to disbelieve it,” said Cortin. “It fits the facts we have observed. And the Kothluuskan orcs have been restless of late. Strong warbands have attacked Rhaluusk and Durandis, and my father believes the King of Rhaluusk and the Dux of Durandis will ask the High King for aid against the Kothluuskan orcs. Certainly Ridmark’s tale fits with recent events.”

“Fine,” said Imaria. “So you believe him. What do you intend to do about it?”

Cortin turned to face Ridmark. “What are your plans?”

“To leave Coldinium and continue to Urd Morlemoch,” said Ridmark. “I didn’t think the Mhorite orcs would follow me here, but now that they have, I will not endanger others with my presence. We shall leave Coldinium.”

“That seems reasonable,” said Cortin. “I doubt my father would object. We…”

“What?” said Imaria. “No! I forbid this!”

“You may forbid nothing, Magistria,” said Cortin, his voice cold. “I command here, not you. And…” 

“Men of Coldinium!” said Imaria, pointing at the knights and men-at-arms surrounding Cortin. “I am Imaria of the Licinii, daughter of the Dux Gareth of the Northerland and a Magistria of the Order! This man before you, Ridmark Arban, is a murderer and an exile! I command you by the authority of the Magistri to take him into custody at once!” 

A few of the men shifted, reaching for their weapons. Kharlacht, Caius, and Gavin moved to stand with Ridmark, Calliande, and Morigna. 

“Hold!” bellowed Cortin. “I said to hold!” 

“Take him, now!” said Imaria. 

“You will hold your ground!” said Cortin.

“Take his head!” shouted Imaria. “The Dux Tarrabus Carhaine has promised riches and his favor to anyone who takes the head of Ridmark Arban! You shall receive gold, even lands of your own to hold as a benefice. Kill him now!”

“Any man draws a sword and strikes,” said Cortin, “I will have him brought before the Comes on charges of assault and murder.” 

“And if any man does not,” said Imaria, “I will hold him personally responsible for the escape of this criminal!” She pointed at the watching men. “Do you want to dare the wrath of Tarrabus Carhaine? The man who murdered my sister stands before you! How do you think the Dux will react when I tell him that you let Ridmark Arban escape justice? His reach is far and his memory is long.”

Calliande looked at Ridmark and wondered why he didn’t argue, why he didn’t try to defend himself. But he couldn’t. He would not say a word in his own defense. He blamed himself for Aelia’s death.

He agreed with Imaria. 

“Corbanic Lamorus governs in Coldinium,” said Cortin, “not Tarrabus Carhaine, and certainly not you, Magistria!”

“And what will you tell your father,” said Imaria, “when he learns that your folly has turned the Dux against him? Do not presume to contend with those beyond your station, Cortin Lamorus! Your father is merely a minor knight who holds Coldinium by the favor of the High King. Tarrabus Carhaine is the most powerful Dux in the realm. And a Magistria says that Ridmark Arban must die for his crimes! Will you fail to heed my word? I…”