The Red Knight (22 page)

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Authors: K.T. Davies

Tags: #Fantasy, #Epic Fantasy

BOOK: The Red Knight
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Talin shrugged. “Perhaps, or perhaps I have to accept that this woman is beyond me. Anyway, enough—I’m tired of being miserable. I must go and be bored by our guests.”

“Ah, yes. I saw the Khusani caravans arrive earlier. Those veils quite provoke my imagination. Did they bring any more toys with them this trip? I’ll never forget that bird: chirruping and tweeting and flapping its little brass wings. Such a marvellous construction, so cunningly wrought. It must be magic—nothing made of metal could sing as sweetly as a real bird.”

“I’m sure they will have brought more toys to beguile the court, but the bird wasn’t magical. Mother had it examined by mages; it’s just a clever toy.”

Bear gave him a sidelong look. “I’ve heard they only cover themselves from head to toe when they’re in foreign parts, but back in Khusan—Nara in particular—they walk around naked. Do you think there’s any truth in it?”

Talin sighed. “I think you’re very shallow, Lady Berwick, and please don’t ask them. We enjoy very favourable trade relations with the Narans and little attention from their corsairs, so don’t go opening your mouth and spoiling it.”

“I’m not shallow; I’m interested in the customs of other nations, particularly those who might go about naked. Now, go make cow eyes at the Captain while I get ready. I’ve forty warriors to thrash before this evening’s revels can commence.”

“You’re not thinking of…?” Talin let the sentence hang unfinished, but Bear knew what he meant. Her face darkened.

“I told you, Highness, never again. I’ve kept my vow. Gods know it hasn’t always been easy.” She brightened. “Anyway, I’ve seen the competition. I don’t think there’s any need to get…
worked up
. Why, it’s hardly worth the effort of pouring myself into this damn armour. Don’t worry I’ll put on a good show for your guests, like the devoted friend I am. Now where did I put my gauntlets…?”

 

Growing up at Bear’s Tooth, surrounded by mercenaries Alyda had learnt to speak Tamalak, Hadami, and Antian with equal fluency and she’d also picked up smatterings of a dozen other languages and dialects. Alas, Khusani wasn’t one of them. It was therefore a relief to find that the Princess spoke excellent Antian. The letter from Commander Trease stated that she must show the Naran delegation every courtesy. Apparently, the Princess was interested in Antian culture and had expressed a desire to see a tournament before she returned to her homeland.

‘Interested’ wasn’t the word Alyda would have used. Since her arrival, the Princess had asked a constant stream of questions. She wanted to know about everything. Nothing was too inconsequential, from what they fed the horses, to the type of stone used to build the keep. By the time it came to take their seats, Alyda’s jaw ached from talking so much.

“The warriors will line up, twenty on either side of the rope, eighty feet apart. When the signal is given, the rope will drop and the melee will commence.” Alyda felt like a bloody tutor.

The Princess, clad in billowing robes of orange silk, nodded and pointed to one of the knights. “Not all of them carry lances; surely they are at a disadvantage?”

Alyda shook her head. “Not after the first charge when many drop the longer weapons in favour of those that are easier to wield. It’s a personal choice. The winner is the one who ends up with the most tokens, not the one who unseats the most knights.”

“Are many killed?”

“Very few, Satvani Rhami.” Alyda hoped she’d got the name and the title the right way round. “‘Tis a dangerous game and accidents happen, but thankfully few are fatal.”

“With all due respect, Captain Stenna, I find that hard to believe given what I have already seen. I think some warriors, if not already dead, will be maimed by the injuries they have received in other, supposedly less violent games than the melee. It seems, if you will forgive me…a little wasteful.”

Every Courtesy.
Alyda gritted her teeth and smiled, taking a moment to work out how best to frame an answer that wouldn’t offend.

“I can see how the games may seem so to someone unfamiliar with our ways, but it is a traditional way of honing martial skills without waging war, ‘tis healthy, good natured competition.”

As soon as the words had left her mouth, fate conspired to make her a liar. From the tilt yard came the sound of a bone crunching collision, accompanied by a chorus of gasps and groans from the spectators. The Satvani flinched, her bodyguard reached for the jewelled hilt of her sword. Alyda saw the Princess give a tiny flick of her finger, the gesture enough to stay the bodyguard’s hand.

“I think our ideas of what constitutes ‘healthy competition’ differ greatly, Captain Stenna.” The Satvani lifted her veil and took a sip of water. Alyda could see why some thought the Hadami had originally come from Khusan. The woman had very similar features to her mother’s people, save that her skin was much darker. Over her shoulder, Alyda spotted Prince Talin making his way through the crowd on his way to the stand.

When he arrived, Alyda got up and saluted. “Your Highness, may I introduce the Satvani Rhami, of the Kingdom of Nara.” At least now the Satvani could direct her questions to him, and leave her alone.

“It’s an honour to meet you at last, Satvani Rhami,” said Talin, smiling politely. “I hope your business has been successful, and your visit to our kingdom a pleasant one.”

“Thank you, Prince Talin. Business has indeed been very profitable for all concerned, both in the kingdom and Cathlan.”

“Cathlan is in the kingdom,” said Talin leaving no room for debate.

“Ah, yes of course, forgive me, Prince Talin,” said the Satvani, “my Antian is very poor.”

Alyda could feel the tension between the two princes. She preferred an open, stand-up fight; it was so much cleaner than politicking someone to death. Just then the Marshals took up their positions on the parade ground.

“I believe the contest is about to start, Highnesses,” she said.

“Is magic permitted during the melee, Captain Stenna?” the Satvani asked.

Not more bloody questions
. “No it isn’t, Satvani. Void magic is outlawed here as it is everywhere, and for the purposes of tournaments, Fey items and earth magic are also forbidden.”

“But how would you know if one of the knights had a charm or talisman on their person, surely earth magic is a subtle art and difficult to detect?”

Here we go.
Alyda knew where this was leading. “Have you heard of the Arth Wards?” She asked the Satvani, knowing full well the answer.

Handy things those veils, but not foolproof; they allowed a person to hide a smirk, but not the twinkle in their eyes.

“Why, yes I have. They were created by the Djinn I believe, to protect your wonderful castles.”

“Djinn?” queried Alyda. “Do you mean Fey?”

“Yes, I believe I do. I wonder—if Prince Talin would allow it—would it be possible to see a demonstration of the Wards?”

Talin hesitated for a moment, but then inclined his head politely to the Satvani. “Of course, Satvani. Captain Stenna, if you wouldn’t mind?”

Alyda removed the Silver Spur and offered it to the Satvani. The moment it was in the Naran woman’s hand, a shrill ringing filled the air and the Spur began to glow. The noise seemed to be coming from everywhere, so loud that the very air vibrated. The Satvani dropped the Spur. Alyda was ready for her reaction, and caught it before it hit the ground.

Much to everyone’s relief, the ringing stopped as soon as it was back in her possession. Alyda waved away the knights who were rushing over to the stand. As for the Satvani, it was hard to gauge what she was thinking, but hopefully the fact that she wouldn’t meet her gaze, indicated a measure of embarrassment that might curb her curiosity.

The Satvani’s bodyguard was less reticent. She was staring intently at Alyda, her pale eyes narrowed to slits. Alyda didn’t need to see her face to know what she was thinking. Her ready stance declared her hostility most eloquently. Alyda smiled.

“That’s how we know no one has been foolish enough to bring in any magical items, or cast any enchantments within the Arth, without permission from Prince Talin or myself,” said Alyda as she let the Spur flow around her boot heel.

“How fascinating,” said the Satvani. “May I see the Ward?”

Alyda looked to Talin. He nodded for her to continue. “I’m afraid not, Satvani. It isn’t something you can actually see; it’s part of the fabric of the Arth itself.”
And even if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t show it to you.

“I understand,” said the Satvani.

 

The competitors lined up, twenty on either side of the parade ground. Jamie was excited and determined to make a good show in his first senior competition; war was one thing, but doing well in the Melee could make his reputation.

Squires made last-minute adjustments to their knight’s harness and weapons. Polyn handed him his sword, and wished him luck before she retreated to the earth bank. He saw that Iris Berwick was on the same side. The noblewoman was waving to the cheering crowds, but what drew his attention was the Guthland Warleader on the other side of the parade ground. The big Thane was with three other warriors, and his wife. Jamie’s heart skipped a beat when he saw her. She looked over, gave him a slow smile and pointed him out to her husband. The Thane’s jaw tightened. He eyed Jamie coldly and pointed him out to his comrades.
Dear gods.

Jamie felt sick.
She’s told him
. He didn’t understand why she would do that, did she want him to die? Jamie looked to the stands. The Captain was talking with Prince Talin and some Narans, oblivious to the trouble he was in, and why wouldn’t she be? He hadn’t exactly bragged about tumbling the woman. He looked back at the Guthlanders. The Thane was glaring at him, Bethanglyn had gone. Jamie took a deep breath. So the Guthlander knew that he and his wife had fucked. To the Void with him, if he wanted a fight, Jamie would give him one. Resolved, he locked down his visor.

 

The senior Marshal bowed to the Prince. Talin nodded and when all the competitors were ready, the dividing rope was dropped. The crowd let out a thunderous cheer and the combatants charged each other.

Alyda missed this. She could take or leave the joust, but the Grand Melee made her heart quicken and long for more carefree times.

The early clashes were carnage, the fighting furious and dirty, much to the delight of the crowd. Alliances were made and broken on the spur of the moment. Two or more warriors would work together to unseat another and when the deed was done, would straightaway turn on each other. Tokens were taken and handed to seconds, who shouted encouragement, warnings, and insults from the safety of the earth bank. When the fighting permitted, they would race onto the field, dodging flying hooves, to gather dropped weapons and armour, or occasionally, to fight each other.

Alyda was finding it hard not to leap to her feet and roar her knights on; the enthusiasm of the crowd was infectious.

After the initial blistering exchanges, the group of forty was quickly whittled down to twenty, then fifteen. By this stage fatigue was beginning to take its toll on the warriors and their mounts, and soon only ten remained.

Alyda was pleased to see that three of the remaining fighters were hers, including Jamie. Bear Berwick was also still in contention, as was a knight from the Anvil who she didn’t recognise. Of the five other fighters, two were independent knights and, surprisingly, three were Guthlanders. Althus would be happy that one of his had got this far and completely unbearable if she won. That possibility was crushed when the knight was knocked from her horse by a blow to the head that made the entire crowd wince. All hostilities between the knights of the Hammer were temporarily put aside as they took it upon themselves to avenge their fellow Guard and ride at the Guthani who’d dropped her. Their partisan reaction didn’t go unnoticed by the Satvani.

“I thought it was every warrior for themselves, Captain Stenna?”

“Alliances will naturally form from time to time, but I assure you, by the end only one warrior will remain.”

Despite her words she was proud that the Guards were looking out for each other.

The tide of battle turned with every breath. Alyda noticed that Talin was watching Bear Berwick intently, while trying to maintain polite interest in the whole melee. Her own composure was tested when Lady Berwick came up behind one of her knights grabbed his token while he was fighting one of the Guthlanders.

Rather than engage individually, the Guthlanders were openly working together. Alyda watched two more knights fall to their combined attack. She’d always thought the Guthani were undisciplined rabble, but after this she’d have to revise her opinion, they were good. Two of the three Guthlanders were using blunted spears, lighter than lances they were excellent weapons for punching riders out of saddles. Their Thane had chosen to fight with a broad-headed battle axe. Alyda knew from painful experience that it was a good weapon against armoured foes. Even with a blunted edge, a heavy axe could crush armour and break bones.

Toran, a Lieutenant from Alyda’s command lance, spurred her mount at the Thane. He saw her, and calmly tucked a token he’d just taken into his belt. He wasn’t quick, but his timing was impeccable. At the last possible moment, he twisted at the waist and swayed back in the saddle. Toran’s sword whistled harmlessly past his face. The Guthlander’s return swing caught her on the forearm. The axe skidded off her vambrace but there was enough power in the blow to send the knight’s sword spinning from her grasp. She yelled and grabbed her arm. As she passed, the Thane snatched the token hanging from her saddle and held it aloft for all to see. For the first time in two years, Alyda wanted to be out there.

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