Heroes at Odds (42 page)

And then I saw the mounted Kent tenants were galloping back. What the hell?

The mounted Westsea tenants galloped out to meet them. I couldn’t help feeling proud of them.
They
hadn’t run away.

The clash of horse on horse was gruesome. Some of them were crushed as they were knocked off their feet, and once they were on the ground they tripped up other horses. I could imagine their legs snapping. And I didn’t think I would ever be able to forget the sound of the poor animals squealing.

What was I doing here? This wasn’t supposed to be my life. Some of the Kent tenants broke free from the melee and rode toward Taro and me, bearing clubs. Fear leapt up into my throat. I raised my gaff. This was so, so stupid. I was going to get my head caved in.

The man intending to attack me wasn’t sneaky about it. He raised his club high and I could easily predict its path. He probably didn’t know how to fight, either.

I stopped the progress of the club by lifting my gaff over my head. The gaff was damned heavy when held that way, and I could feel the vibration all through my arm. I didn’t know how often I could do that.

Taro struck the same man in the stomach, causing him to shriek. Then I hit him in the head. I was already tired. I couldn’t imagine how Fiona and Kent could be still going at it. Not that I had the opportunity to look at them again.

“Help me!” I heard Browne shout. I couldn’t look at her, though, to see to her difficulty. Because I felt a sudden sting in the back of my head, the pain of which caused me to lose my breath, and I kind of collapsed against Taro. I couldn’t feel my hands. I was pretty sure I’d dropped my gaff.

My sight cleared in time to see another Kent tenant raise his club to us again. I lifted my hands, knowing it was stupid as I was doing it. The bones in my arms would be crushed. I couldn’t help myself.

My little brother Dias crushed the back of the tenant’s head in with a mallet. I saw the tenant’s eyes widen in shock. Then I saw Dias’s eyes widen in shock.

I was pretty sure my brothers had never been in this situation, either. In fact, I would wager I had more experience in real violence than they did. Though I doubted they’d managed to reach adulthood without a fistfight or two, that wasn’t the same as having to worry someone was going to get killed. I hated the fact that they had been dragged into this.

Behind him, I saw Browne had fallen on the ground, and a caster was trying to stomp on her with his feet and swing at her with a club, while she kicked at his shins. I was pretty sure the only reason the caster was having difficulty was because of his unfamiliarity with the awkward and weighty tool.

Marcus tackled him, and that was the end of that.

Fighting really was a whole lot less elegant than history scrolls would have one believe.

All of the Kent casters had been tied and gagged—so much was going on without my noticing—with their own clothing, which left them pretty much naked. I’d hazard something like that was never part of their expectations on their journey to Kent. I wondered what Kent had promised them to lure them into his service.

I wondered how he’d found them in the first place. While I had encountered some casters who had been stupidly obvious about trying to use spells, most strove for discretion. So how had Kent come to know about these people? How long had they been in Kent? Were they part of some larger group that was training to use hurtful spells?

One problem at a time. Worry about the people trying to kill you right now.

Kent shouted. He was very red and sweaty, his steps clumsy, his swings of the spade less focused and controlled. Fiona looked exhausted, but there was still more certainty in her movements. She jabbed high, she struck low, and Kent seemed forced to spend most of his strength and attention on avoiding her blows, rather than going on the offensive.

Perhaps she was stronger than him after all.

She clipped him in the nose. He jerked too far back, almost losing his balance. So she kicked him in the groin, and almost every man around me groaned in reaction. Kent curled over and stumbled a bit, and Fiona shoved him to the ground.

She fell on him, hard, using her weight as a weapon. Her knees dug into his stomach, and he cried out. She placed the handle of her spade across his throat and pressed down, hard.

Kent’s body heaved, his legs kicking out. He tried to buck Fiona off, but she clung on. I watched Kent’s face turn a disquieting shade of dark red.

Was she killing him? He deserved it, he really, really did, but I would prefer it happened accidentally.

If he did die, I was pretty sure he wouldn’t be the only one. I looked about and saw tenants, both Fiona’s and Kent’s, lying unmoving on the ground. Browne was kneeling by one, moving her hands over him, before rising from him with a grim expression.

I couldn’t believe all of this was still legal.

It took longer than I thought for Kent’s kicking and squirming to stop. When it did, Fiona continued to press down for a few moments. Then she climbed off him. “Healer Browne,” she called.

Browne’s examination of the Earl was brief, as though she really couldn’t be bothered. “He breathes,” she announced.

Fiona nodded and looked at where the mounted tenants from Westsea and Kent were still riding into each other, swinging implements, and the tenants on foot swinging fists.

“The fight is over!” Fiona shouted. “You can stop!”

They kept hammering at each other.

Taro sighed. “Lee?”

Well, there was really no point in trying to be circumspect anymore. “What do you have in mind?”

“Just the ground, a little. Enough to spook the horses and get everyone’s attention.”

So he caused a minor earth tremor. Most of the horses bucked their riders off. Most of the fighters on foot seemed to panic and scatter. When all the fighting had stopped, Taro let the ground settle.

What now?

“Bell, Everett,” Fiona called. “Please tie him.” Two of Fiona’s tenants jogged over and bound Kent in the same manner as had been used on the casters. He would be outraged if he knew he was being subjected to such indignity. I liked that. “Mathis, I’m going to ask you to donate your horse to carry Kent back. You’ll have to lead him.”

“Of course, my lady,” said Mathis.

“Pick three men to go with you, in case he wakes. You can hit him if he gives you any trouble.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Healer Browne, tap whoever you need to look after the injured. Take care of Kent’s people, too.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“With my authority as magistrate,” Fiona announced loudly, “I am placing the Earl of Kent under arrest, to face judgment from Emperor Gifford.”

“You can’t arrest him!” one of Kent’s tenants objected.

Fiona raised an eyebrow at him. “Of course, I can.”

“And what are we supposed to do?” another tenant demanded.

“That has nothing to do with me.”

“He has no family that we know of. Who’s his heir?”

“I have no idea.” Fiona found her horse and climbed on.

“You’re just going to leave us like this?”

“You’re not my responsibility.” And with those words, she kicked her horse into a trot.

That seemed cold to me, but really, what else was she supposed to do? They had fought her people, did their best to kill them. Any thoughts of taking them on as tenants herself had obviously dissipated.

Taro, Marcus, my brothers and I found horses and followed Fiona.

Was that it? Three weeks of hell ended in a fight that lasted less than half a candle mark? Was that really how these things worked?

When we reached the border between Kent’s land and Fiona’s, we encountered a blue glow that seemed to stretch from the ground to high in the air, and as far as I could see to the left and the right. I sighed.

“What the hell is this?” one of the tenants asked.

There was a single person who didn’t know about that element of casting? I was almost shocked.

And I wondered how everyone would react. It was one thing for Browne to use casting for healing. Even people uncomfortable with any kind of casting at all might be willing to let that slide. They could even pretend to know nothing about it. After all, healing was a learned skill. The average person would know nothing more about healing than they did about casting. It was easy to pretend to oneself that nothing odd was going on.

And when the Imperial Guards had come, and tried to flog Browne, it had been easy to interfere. There had been only four Guards, who were arrogant and careless in their search for casters, who had alienated everyone so much the tenants probably would have supported anyone the Guards chose to persecute, especially a harmless woman who had lived among them all her life.

But this, this was different. No one could ignore it. And people would have to make decisions about how they were going to feel about casting, how they were going to feel about the people who used casts. That could be dangerous.

It was like all of our secrets had been bared at once. That was going to kick us in the teeth, too.

The barrier eventually faded. “Everyone follow me,” Fiona ordered, and I wondered why she thought we wouldn’t. It became clear when we began to reach people’s houses. Fiona didn’t take a straight line back to her manor. She twisted and looped around every building, slowly.

Kent roused then. “What are you doing?” he demanded.

Fiona didn’t look back at him, but she answered, “Showing everyone you lost.”

“Release me immediately,” he commanded, as though he were in any position to get people to do what he wanted.

I couldn’t help snickering.

“The Emperor won’t let you have Kent.”

“I don’t want Kent,” Fiona told him. “The whole stretch of it needs to lie fallow. I don’t have the time to deal with land that won’t produce anything for years.”

The tenants who hadn’t gone with us, the parents of young children, the elderly or infirm, those who simply weren’t prepared to do anything but their most basic, absolute duty for Fiona, watched our procession, some of them laughing at Kent’s state of undress.

“This is a dishonorable way to treat another titleholder,” Kent chided Fiona angrily.

She did turn briefly, then, to shoot him a look of pure astonishment, but she said nothing.

When we reached Fiona’s manor, she ordered that Kent be restrained in the tack room, with Daris. I wondered if Daris was still drunk. Maybe she was unconscious. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to put them together in a place that had sharp implements.

Fiona herded my brothers, Cars, Marcus, my mother, Taro and me into her office, where she pulled out some small crystal goblets and a decanter of something a golden brown. “I can’t thank you enough for your support,” she said, filling the goblets. “Especially those of you who have no real connection to me. You didn’t have to risk yourselves like that. I want you to know that it’s appreciated. And you were an excellent lesson in loyalty for my vassals. One they won’t soon forget.”

I hoped these challenges to Fiona’s authority were over, because I didn’t know how Fiona would fare if they weren’t. She was a stronger person than I, but I didn’t think it would take much more to make her snap. When good, smart, strong people hit their emotional limit, the results could be nasty.

The next day, my mother told me that she was planning to propose a minor partnership—whatever that meant—to the Prides.

And this offended me. “We had to go through all of that and you’re just going to give them what they want, anyway?”

“I offered the same to Cars when he first came to us, but he refused it as it didn’t include everything the original contract had. I imagine he’ll feel differently about it now.”

“But why?”

“I know you feel my behavior was dishonorable, that we continued to enjoy the fruits of the contract after you were sent to the Academy. This is not true. Our actions were entirely legal.”

The two terms weren’t mutually exclusive. In my opinion, it was quite possible to be a legal ass. “Then why are you doing this?”

“Marcus has shown great merit. I think him a fine man. I would like to avoid seeing him suffer from his father’s actions. And despite their current misfortunes, they still have connections that might be of use to us.”

It was disturbing to me that I couldn’t know which of those motives was the genuine one, but the idea pleased me. I had been impressed by Marcus, too. I didn’t want to see him destitute.

Hester entered the room. “Holder, Shield, Her Grace has instructed me to inform you that Lady Daris is in the process of being exiled from Flown Raven, and it is desired to have witnesses to this event.”

Why? To inflict some humiliation on Daris? Not that I had a problem with that. Daris had had no difficulty serving humiliation and more on her family.

I looked at Mother. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, so I went to the stable by myself and joined the crowd, which included both tenants and local aristocracy.

I noticed Radia lingering at the front of the assemblage. I made my way to her. No one objected to my doing so, and so they shouldn’t. I was short enough to be seen over by almost everyone. “It might not be good for you to be here.” I indicated her cane. “It could get rowdy.”

“I wasn’t going to miss this. Lady Daris has been an embarrassing annoyance from the moment she stepped onto this land.”

I could hear Daris shouting before I could see her. She was swearing up a storm. Some of the oaths were ones I had never heard of, and some didn’t make sense. I knew she wasn’t drunk because Fiona hadn’t allowed her any alcohol. I had heard that people who regularly drowned themselves in alcohol were actually less coherent and agile when they were sober.

Hiroki was carrying Daris from the stable to a waiting carriage, both arms around her waist and holding her off her feet as she tried to kick and punch at him. Hiroki was barely holding on to his balance. Daris was shrieking. There was absolutely no dignity involved. I bit back a smile.