Chapter 12
If the eyes are the windows of the soul, Princess Veronica had the shades down, drapes drawn and shutters closed. I was getting nothing from hers. Softly I said, “I gave my word, your grace.”
“Even knowing you could not keep it, Hunter?” she asked, in that same cool cadence with no expression.
I nodded as I agreed. “Yes, your Grace, knowing that I did not speak for anyone but myself, but knowing even more that I wish Donna to live. She told me much…”
One eyebrow came up just fractionally as she interrupted, “But they are dead.”
I shook my head, saying, “No, not all. There is ‘something’. Far more than robbers, Princess, and I want Donna, who has some knowledge of this ‘something,’ to accompany you on the rest of your journey.”
Into her palpably quizzical silence I forged on, “It is not highwaymen or isolated thievery, your grace. Some agency is making widespread disorder. I do not know who is responsible or the purpose of this chaos, not yet. I have ‘not yet’ the full knowledge that I need. This unknown something is a danger to the kingdoms, and especially to you.”
I took a deep breath, saying forcefully, “I am convinced, your grace. Nadia, you Veronica, and Donna hold keys to my unlocking this treacherous mystery.”
I realized my subconscious mind had supplied those words. In sudden clarity as I spoke them I understood their truth. In the shared silence that followed I stared into those hypnotic blue eyes.
Sudden gonging as Hjordis pounded an iron plowshare announcing supper caused us to start in surprise. Veronica smiled as she offered, “Very persuasive, Hunter. Do you always thus convince your prey that they must willingly step into your enticing traps so that that you may capture them?”
Before I could respond, she laughed softly, saying, “Never mind, let us eat, drink and talk. I will feely tell you about my trip with Hjordis. I expect the same candor from you concerning this ‘something’ of yours.”
She glanced over to the cook fires as she said softly, “I find myself persuaded to let your comely seafarer live. I am open to being fully converted.”
With that, Princess Veronica turned, leading her horse to the stables and leaving me musing at the corral fence.
I walked over the windmill with its pump jack to wash before my meal. I rinsed the worst of the mud off in the stock tank, then washed up in the tin basin next to it. After drying my hands on the filthy towel, I glanced around. Seeing everyone focused on the upcoming meal, I pulled an antiseptic wipe out of an inner pocket and cleansed my hands.
A soft, over-germicided modern, I had little of the bacterial resistance of these soldiers. I’d better stay clean until my body became acclimated to this dirtier life. The used wipe and torn wrapper went back in my pocket, to be disposed where it would not cause comment.
Donna was placing the carved meat and the last items of food on the long plank table. Unruly soldiers were impatiently waiting to be fed. Hjordis stood at the end of the table, first in line, ostentatiously cleaning her nails with her dagger while ignoring the anxious soldiers who, for their part, were extremely careful not to jostle her.
A beefy very bald soldier in a leather jerkin was forming the troops in a column, by the simple expedient of profuse obscenity while shoving them roughly into single file with the haft of his bearded war axe. He had muscles, scars, and tattoos in equal measure, with a truly breathtaking command of profanity.
As this was going on, Jeremy gave himself a boost in my estimation. He tasked those first in line to fetch food and drink for sentries before their own meal. They complained loudly about the ‘injustice’ of his orders despite the fact they were first in line mostly due to shirking their duties. Jeremy listened as the malingerers’ complaints built to a whiny crescendo. He finally told them to take it up with ‘Blade’ and the voices quieted considerably, amid sidelong glances at the bulky, hairless axe wielder.
I was watching the byplay just as the stable door opened. Princess Veronica stepped out, holding the door for her stable hands. She waved them toward the food line before she moved with a purposeful stride to the washing area.
Jeremy saw her, turned and began yelling loudly. A trooper with a towel over his shoulder carrying a silver basin of water headed for the princess at a run, accelerating as Blade bellowed curses at his back. By the time he skidded to a stop in front of the princess, he was very wet with basin empty. Princess Veronica smilingly thanked him for the clean towel as she washed up in the same water as everyone else.
Veronica completed her wash-up. Blade moved quickly to her side, and his meaty paw engulfed her daintier appendage. Blade escorted his princess across that yard to those rude plank tables as if they were crossing a palace ballroom headed for a banquet hall.
As Veronica was on her way to take her place at the head of the line, she paused to gesture at me to join her. I demurred, and immediately her hand seized my shoulder in a surprisingly strong grip. Before I could protest Veronica was pulling me into line next to her.
I was sitting on a blanket, leaning against the farmhouse, my Katana and crossbow beside me, with my plate on my lap and a mug of ale next to me. My delightful companions on the picnic blanket were princess, assassin and sailor. We were surrounded the yard, covered with random groupings of soldiers also sitting on the grass, eating and drinking their fill. Blade was sitting with back against the same wall, only scant feet away, his axe hard by as he watchfully ate his own meal near at hand to his charge.
As Donna refilled our mugs, Jeremy toured the yard informing the troops that anyone found drunk would be flogged by Blade. His announcement that the flogging would carry on “until Blade’s arm tired,” accompanied by Blade’s canine growl, noticeably slowed traffic to that big keg.
Princess Veronica or as she quickly exclaimed, “call me Ronnie” told us of her diplomatic mission to Port City and King Ethan, saying, “Nadia was to carry half the documents and I the other. We were to travel in one column. Unaccountably, before I could go, disagreement and nit-picking redrafting of minor words delayed me. Nadia had to press on to meet the king and his generals, leaving me to travel as you see.”
With that Ronnie gestured at the party scattered on the grass.
I nodded as I asked, “What were the documents?”
Ronnie smiled as she answered, “Hers was military, mine trade.”
Grinning into my puzzled expression, she continued, “Nadia delivered the mutual defense treaty. She and the Baron were meeting with their top military leaders. The Black Baron’s Guard was conducting a military survey of the roads, bridges, and terrain.”
Taking a sip of her wine Ronnie continued, “I carried a bold plan to break the river blockade of Passage and its Sun King.”
Ronnie smiled into our dumbfounded expressions as Donna and Hjordis gasped loudly in astonishment. Hjordis said, “I had no idea.”
Ronnie nodded soberly as she replied, “No one did, or more to the present point, no one was believed to. My undertaking was among the deepest and darkest of secrets of our realm.”
Ronnie gave me a hard‑eyed glance before continuing, “Yet, somehow, a hunter came to be standing in the road waiting for me.”
Donna asked quietly, “I’m curious, your grace. How were you planning to get through that chain blocking the mouth of the river at Passage?”
Ronnie grinned, saying, “Ronnie, please, and that’s an order. We will bypass the river and avoid confronting this Sun King, at least to start. We took our lessons from the caravan masters who cross the vast deserts and steppes to trade from the spice lands.”
We must have looked puzzled as Ronnie continued more slowly, “The desert caravans use huge, six-wheeled freight wagons. On the steppes, wagons are paired in tandem, one behind the other, with each such pair pulled by a team with twenty or more brace of oxen or mules. A caravan might consist of one hundred or more of these wagons and teams.”
We were all nodding slowly as she continued, “I have a proposal from Oswald, King Oswald …” She dimpled prettily as she realized we all knew who this particular ‘Oswald’ was, and continued, “…And the Merchants’ Guild of King Holm. We would start with a dozen of the tandem pairs of wagons, loading them on the Port City docks, traveling through the big forest to River Town then on to Castle Town and King Holm. I am to meet with the Sea Farers’ Guild to discuss the proposal.”
Donna suddenly looked very pensive and went quiet. I reached over to lightly touch her shoulder, saying softly, “Is there something wrong with the princess’s plan, Donna?”
She shook her head briskly as she replied, “I’m sure it’s not my place to question, Brock sir.”
Ronnie’s eyes narrowed as she silently watching this byplay. I turned to Ronnie asking, “Are you familiar with Port City?”
Ronnie grinned as she shook her head. “I’ve never been to Port City or Coast castle for even the shortest visit. My only acquaintance in the kingdom is Princess Jessica. We’ve ridden together when her father, King Ethan was in King Holm for a state visit.” Ronnie’s hand came up as she continued, “And to forestall your next question. No, I don’t know why I was selected for this task. I doubt it was common knowledge that Jessica and I even met. I’d like to think it was my knowledge of horseflesh but…”
Shaking her head ruefully Ronnie trailed off into silence. As Ronnie was speaking I watched Donna who was fidgeting and nervous as Ronnie’s story unfolded.
Finally I pointed at Donna saying sternly, “Donna, you must talk to the Princess. She needs your help. YOU are the only one who has stood on those docks and know the players in this drama.”
Ronnie followed my with her entreaty, saying, “Yes, please, Donna I do need your help and won’t be angry about a criticism. Promise!”
Finally, with a tentative smile, Donna said, “This is the second time today that Brock, sir, asked my opinion.”
Looking directly at the Princess, Donna said firmly, “If you go ahead, meeting with only the Seafarers Guild, your plan is stillborn.”
Ronnie gasped, as Donna forged ahead. “They are one guild of several, and not even the most important for your purposes. The Navigators Guild, The Masters, Pilots and Captains Guild, The Shippers Guild, The Dockage, Drayage and Warehousemen’s Guild all would desire a separate meeting or be affronted.”
I laughed as I said, “You made that last one up.”
Donna grinned. “No, Brock, sir. They control every inch of those docks, the warehouses and not incidentally whatever moves on or off the docks.”
Hjordis had a serious look on her face as she asked, “Is that all of the guilds?”
Donna said, “You’d also have to think about the Merchants Guild or Guilds. Not sure how they’re organized. Oh, and the Teamsters Guild provided teams of horses and drivers for pulling our galley along the river towpath.”
Ronnie looked stunned as she gamely asked, “Tell me the most important guild Donna?”
Donna smiled as she answered, “Not really sure, ummm, Ronnie. The Navigators Guild is especially powerful because of their unique knowledge plus alliance with the astrologers. That ties them to a whole host of workers in the magical realms.”
I interrupted to ask, “Alliance with astrologers?”
Donna grinned, “They both use the astrolabe, Brock sir.”
Then Donna looked more sober as she continued, “But, there is it seems to me a glaring omission. The Shippers Guild is made up of the captains and crews who voyage the inland sea, as I did on Sandra Dear. There is also, within this guild, a separate council for the bargemen who travel the rivers. Your plan seems to completely put ALL of them out of business in a way even the big chain didn’t. Yet you are not going to meet with them.”
Veronica looked peeved as she glared at Hjordis, saying slowly, ominously, “Yes, Hjordis. I was instructed by my father’s most trusted advisor Morley exactly - what to do - where to go - who to meet.”
Veronica took a deep breath. “ I must not deviate from this masterful plan, silly goose that I am. This being the same fucking Morley, of course, who had such trouble with writing, then rewriting, my documents, causing us to be grievously delayed, so we could not travel with the Black Baron’s Guards.”
Ronnie was building quite a head of steam as she continued, “Luckily this traitorous bastard Morley provided - THESE - his own ‘hand picked’ guards for my protection.”
Ronnie’s head snapped around, as she looked me square in the eye. “Goddamn him to hell, and you, my hunter, are going to send him on his journey.”
In the silence that followed that declaration Veronica’s unseeing eyes were wild and glaring as Donna threw her arms around the furious princess. It seemed a good time to absent myself from the vicinity.
I caught up my Katana as I stepped away from the blanket. Hjordis lithely rose joining me as I walked around the yard now dotted with campfires and tents. I stopped at the cook fire pouring two steaming mugs of strong tea for us to carry.
Hjordis nodded her thanks as she sipped, then asked, “Where are the dead highwaymen?”
I pointed across the road and she made a ‘lead on’ gesture. As we crossed the muddy lane, entering the twilight grove, Hjordis reached down to manipulate the buckle of her sword belt revealing a light crystal. The bright light revealed the row of bodies to her expert inspection.
Kneeling next to each body as she examined the wounds, Hjordis asked the circumstances of my last encounter with the dead man. I was unsparing in my mortification for killing them without gaining anything useful in the way of knowledge of the conspiracy.
Hjordis looked up at me perceptively as she said, “One against many. By the end, you were berserker.”
She stood up, looking into my eyes. “Remember, hunter, far better you live to have such regrets, than die in the mud and have the Princess die soon after you.”
I nodded in understanding as she completed her scrutiny. Hjordis stood finally and looked over at me, as she asked, “And the stolen money, hunter?”
I was surprised by her bald question, but I answered evenly. “Hidden under the barn.”
She nodded as she inquired, “Did you take a share as your reward?”
I decided to be straightforward, saying simply, “Yes, I did.”
Hjordis grinned as she replied, “Good. Oswald can be such a pig when confronted by gold. Often forgetting to reward those who brought him riches.”
With those words, Hjordis picked up her mug, closed her buckle and led me back to the farmyard and princess.
We stopped at the cook fire, refilled our mugs with more tea, and grabbed two more mugs of tea for Ronnie and Donna. When we arrived back at the blanket, we found Ronnie calm.
Well, not exactly C-A-L-M.
Ronnie still wanted to reach down Morley’s throat and rip out his heart. Just composed to the point that no one in the immediate area was in jeopardy.
Ronnie saw us and smilingly said, “I think it’s safe to approach.”
Hjordis handed her a mug of tea as she asked, “Are you quite sure, my princess?”
She glanced, smirking, over at Donna as she continued, “I can have the hunter show me more of the sights.”
I groaned as I contemplated three pairs of eyes regarding me with various levels of amusement. It was time to move this on to a safer, or at least different topic. As I seated myself, I looked over and said, “Donna, tell the princess about the Thistles and Tor’s gang.”
Donna looked startled, but Ronnie looked sympathetic as Hjordis, gestured urging her on. Donna started her story on the docks where Tor found her, ending with my grabbing her in the barn.
As Donna ended her narrative Hjordis turned to the princess saying hotly, “These traitors, Devlin and the spice seller, must be turned over the royal executioner to be tortured until they tell ALL!”
Ronnie looked at her very seriously, saying quietly, “Torturing them would be a pleasure, Hjordis but do not become confused, their pain does not necessarily add to our knowledge of the treachery. They or anyone else being tormented would tell us any fanciful tale to gain the surcease of death.”
She patted Hjordis as she went on, “You yourself would admit being a member of this gang, and accuse your family of being its leaders, after a session in Father’s dungeon.”
Looking over at me, Ronnie continued, “Far better our hunter follows the traitors we have identified, to find more vipers yet hidden.”
I nodded as I replied, “I am more than a little surprised, Ronnie. They have not done a proper job of keeping the conspirators hidden from one another. Too many people know far too much of the members and workings of these Thistles.”
Donna then told the princess that I’d seen ‘Lord Chasseur’ and that I’d said his name meant “one who rides a horse” and perhaps that was a clue. Ronnie looked over at me smiling as she exclaimed, “But it doesn’t mean that at all, Brock!”
Ignoring our flabbergasted looks Ronnie continued, “The word for horseman is “Chevalier” while “Chasseur” is a hunter.”
She looked over at Hjordis asking, “Whom do we know, in King Holm perhaps, who is arrogant enough to style himself ‘hunter’?”
Hjordis blurted, “Burke and Blunt!”
Ronnie’s visage took on an appraising expression as she sat quietly staring into the fire.
Donna and I probably appeared just as confused as we felt, looking from Ronnie to Hjordis and back again.
Hjordis saw our puzzled looks and took pity on us saying, “Burke and Carlyle are two exceedingly handsome and especially inseparable men in the court of King Oswald. Carlyle is the rudest and most sarcastic man in King Holm, hence his nickname of ‘Blunt’. Burke, the most pampered of fops, thinks he and his partner are hunters.”
Looking over at me, Hjordis snorted. “Though not in any way a real hunter might recognize.”
Ronnie took up the story, saying, “They fancy themselves hunters and wished to stage a hunt. First, they had their servants build a blind in the middle of a hay field. Then slaves, supervised by actual hunters, drove animals out of the woods onto the field, within the range of the pair’s crossbows.”
She took a sip of her tea then continued, “With servants handing the pair loaded crossbows continually, they slaughtered many animals. Since they shot anything and everything that showed itself, they also killed three slaves on the drive before the real hunters could call a halt.”
Ronnie went on, “The genuine hunters, and many in court were mortified to discover that Burke and Blunt planned to display the dead slaves as trophies along with the horns and hides of the various animals they killed. The bodies hung framing the fireplace during the wild game feast celebrating the success of their slaughter.”
Ronnie then looked over at Hjordis, saying in a silky soft, very dangerous voice, “Burke and Carlyle are Morley’s closest confidantes in court.”
We sat, sipping tea, each of us wrapped in our own thoughts.
Thistles’ leadership seemed to lack any discernable tradecraft with no compartmenting of conspiracy members into cells, and even a leader who apparently chooses a code name that points right to him!
I had to keep in mind there was at least a possibility that antipathy Burke and Carlyle had accumulated by their disagreeable personalities, and unpleasant dealings was causing the Princess to focus her suspicions on them. I searched my recollections of the Chasseur horseman but nothing helped me to identify the rider.
Princess Veronica suddenly turned to me, saying briskly, “Tell me, hunter, do you have an alternate plan to get me safely through the big forest and continue to Port City? I presume my guard as presently constituted is not to your satisfaction.”
I laughed as I replied, “No, your grace, your current travel situation is not to my liking and Yes, your grace, I have formulated a bold and radical plan that has a chance of success even as you are unlikely to agree to it.”
Continued in Chapter 13
Blood and Iron - Chapter 12
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