Respectant Page 2

  Without knowing it, she imitated the moves of the twin brothers who had killed the sentries the night before. Her left hand closed over the guard’s mouth. She slit his throat and laid him gently on the ground. The forest stayed silent.

  She wiped her left hand and dagger on the man’s clothes and returned to her sleeping place. Crouched there, she breathed in a regular pattern, the Assassin Cool, which Codrin had taught her, to calm herself. “Robbers!” she cried after a while, and ran toward the middle of the clearing. She stumbled over a sleeping man and fell in the grass, rolling away from him before he could kill her. Fear would make him kill anyone who got too close.

  Around her, men jumped up, grabbed their weapons and gathered in the middle of the clearing, voicing their panic.

  “Shut up!” Aron shouted and, in the sudden silence, he listened to the night.

  Nothing happened, and they eventually calmed down, but no one could sleep until close to the morning. They woke up later than usual and buried another man. They lost two hours this time.

  Later, when Aron and his troop finally vanished from sight, Maud’s men came into the clearing, and Eric scratched his head. “I have no idea who killed this one,” he said, pointing at the grave.

  “Maybe Maud sent another team.”

  “She would have told me. We need to be careful. We can’t afford to attack them again. You will follow Aron, to see where he is heading, while I return to Leyona. He killed an Itinerant Sage, and Maud will want his head.”

  Chapter 2 – Codrin

  Walking alone in the long corridor, Codrin entered the council room, thoughts swarming in his mind. If I can’t find her now, the only way to get Saliné back is to strengthen my position and force the Circle to return her. She may already be married by then; he shook his head. That does not matter to me. A forced marriage is a sham. He glanced at the map on the wall, Mohor’s map, seated himself at the table, Mohor’s table, and remained silent, ignoring the eyes fixed on him until Vlaicu coughed.

  I will make them pay for Saliné, for Jara, for Mohor, for everything. “Vlad,” Codrin said, cursorily, “take twenty men with you and hunt Aron and his men, but don’t attack them. Send couriers back from time to time, to let us know where they are. They have more than half a day lead on you and, from the tracks at the tunnel, we know they rode west. Leave now; I will follow you as soon as I can.” He glanced through the window: the sun would soon sink to touch the hills in the west.

  “We need to prepare our defenses,” Vlaicu said, his eyes following Vlad as he left the room. He understood Codrin’s pain, but the new Grand Seigneur of Severin needed to focus. They had won the battle; the war would be long. Important things needed be settled. He smiled at Codrin, understanding, sympathetic, but firm.

  Looking nowhere, Codrin sighed to himself. A long, painful sigh. He rubbed hard at his own temples, as though Vlaicu’s smile was giving him a headache. He shook his head, and his eyes became sharp again. “Attack is the best defense. Valer, are you prepared to move from Tolosa to Severin?”

  “My relationship with the Duke was never easy, and with the Duchess it was even worse. News will spread that I fought for you in Poenari. I am ready to move.” The Black Dervil of Tolosa was a man who did not speak much, but he was the best mercenary captain in all Frankis.

  “How many soldiers can you bring in two weeks?”

  “A hundred.”

  “You will settle in Cleuny, as my Knight.” Valer was the second trusted man he had raised in rank; he had made Vlaicu Knight of Seged, which was taken from Aron, just an hour before the council started.

  “Thank you,” Valer bowed in acknowledgement.

  “Can you find us some more Mountes?” Codrin looked at Boldur.

  “After our victory, I am sure that some recrimination runs through the Chieftains, and shame, but I can’t go to them. I am a still an outcast. I will write a letter to my cousin, Dragos; he was away when the Circle bought the League.” The League was the council of the Mountes Chieftains, and Boldur was still bitter – they had betrayed the agreement made with Codrin, and refused to send soldiers to Poenari.

  “Damian will lead a squad of your Mountes on the road to the White Salt Mountains. He was born there and knows your people.” I should have enough soldiers to convince Devan now. “There is an informal alliance between Grand Seigneur Devan and me. It was made a year ago, when we met at the border between Leyona and Deva.” Codrin looked at Devan’s son, Philip, this time. Three years ago, he was supposed to marry Saliné, he could not stop thinking, and I wanted him dead. How things have changed. “Things are not settled yet with the Circle, but we have the advantage. That doesn’t mean that we are safe; they may retrieve the initiative soon. Would Deva consider a full alliance?”

  “What’s your next step?” Philip asked, cautiously.

  “Arad. As I said, attack is our best defense. Orban has lost many soldiers, and there is a ferment of dissent against him. We have five hundred soldiers now. If you bring two hundred more, most of Arad will fall and northern Mehadia, including the city, will go to you.”

  “I have to pass your request on to Father.”

  “I understand that. You should return in two weeks, with or without the new army. Vlaicu, we need more provisions. See what is stored in Severin and then send couriers to Poenari. Ban will lead the scouts in Vlad’s absence. Send two teams to Arad, close to the border, and prepare the army to march in three weeks.”

  “What should we do with the Sages?” Vlaicu asked. “Traitors,” he spat.

  “I will talk to them before I leave. Then I will decide.”

  Codrin was alone in the council room when the guards ushered Verenius in. “Take a seat,” Codrin said coldly, and nodded to the guards to leave. The treaty they had signed only the day before lay on the table, and he smoothed the document out with an imperious hand. “Read it.” He pushed the paper toward Verenius.

  “I know what...”

  “Read it,” Codrin snapped. “Aloud.”

  Verenius sighed and started to read out the clauses about Severin and Saliné being handed to Codrin, and about Aron leaving with all the men who wanted to join him.

  “Why?” Codrin asked, and Verenius knew better than to ask what he meant.

  “I received orders from the Circle. Saliné is a fine lady, perhaps the finest I ever saw, but Frankis needs more than that. The young Duchess of Tolosa will bring you an army strong enough to unify the kingdom.”

  “I will not marry her. You know that.”

  You are upset now, but it will pass, and you will see the truth in my words. Of course, I may not live long enough to see that. Fate. “Then we face more conflict, more dead and more lawless years for Frankis. Do you really want that?”

  “As if the Sages care about that. You want power for yourselves, not a king for Frankis. All the choices for the Candidate King were wrong.”

  “I can’t speak for all the Sages, but some of us care. I was not born a Knight or a noble. My father is a simple farmer, and the commoners suffer the most when there is disorder. They can’t defend themselves. Duke Stefan was not a bad choice. He became one after his siblings were killed in battle against the Duke of Tolosa. He chose not to fight on. It was a bad decision for a good reason.”

  “Orban? Bucur? Were they good choices too?”

  “I don’t know why Orban was chosen as Candidate King. You are right that Maud is an ambitious woman, but she also wants the best future for Frankis. Except for you, she was close to unifying the kingdom.”

  “And you think me evil because...”

  “You are strong, and you will be a better king than Bucur, but that doesn’t make her plan wrong. She had the bad luck to learn too late how strong you are. If we had to choose a Candidate King today...”

  “Why Bucur? What made him a good Candidate King?”

  “Maud’s granddaughter brought the south: Tolosa. Bucur brought the north: Peyris. In normal circumstances, that would have been enough
to unify Frankis. Loxburg or Orban could not fight against the two largest Duchies.”

  “Duke Stefan helped Aron,” Codrin whispered to himself and stood up. He went toward the window and looked out over the hills. “Why was Bucur so important to him?”

  “Aron was Stefan’s bastard,” Verenius said, and Codrin turned his head abruptly. “Very few people know that.”

  “Yes, Aron behaves like a bastard, but at least I know now why. You may leave now; I have to go.”

  “Where are you going?” Verenius asked, still wondering about his own situation.

  “To find Saliné.”

  “Did you find nothing of value in what I was telling you?”

  “What kind of ruler would I be, if I let down friends and people I love when they are in danger?”

  “There will be always tough decisions to make. Saliné is not in danger right now.”

  “Enough,” Codrin snapped.

  “You know that I am right. A ruler is not always able to take the most just decision. He must take the right one, and sometimes they are not the same.”

  “You are not the first to give me such advice.”

  “It came from a wise person.”

  “Wise and dead. I warned Mohor about Aron. Indeed, he took the right decision in keeping Aron as his Spatar, instead of jailing him. This treaty was a farce from the beginning.” He tapped with one finger on the document, keeping his eyes on the Sage.

  Verenius took his time to answer, and their eyes locked. After a while, the Sage looked away. This is the most important moment... It will decide if I live or die. “No, it wasn’t. When we negotiated and signed the treaty, I did not know about the marriage offer from the Duke of Tolosa and your nomination as Grand Seigneur of Severin.”

  “Did Octavian bring that news?” Codrin asked, and Verenius nodded. “He arrived before we finished the negotiation.”

  Octavian wants me hanged so he can take my place as Primus Itinerant. Maud will not cry for me either. Watched closely by Codrin, Verenius struggled to find an acceptable answer. “Because of the tense negotiations, we did not time things well.”

  “It was your decision then?”

  “I am the Primus Itinerant, so the decision was mine.” With Maud’s hands tight around my throat.

  “Your decision,” Codrin said and threw the paper on the table. “You may leave now. Guards!”

  Verenius breathed deeply and stood up. His face blanched under his southern tan. I have no idea what will happen to me, but I will not tell him about the letter I gave to Saliné to buy my freedom. If I die; I die. Followed by two soldiers, he went out. They turned left along the corridor, then down the stairs leading to the cells. A path that he knew by heart already. Once Verenius was secure in his cell, the guards went to collect Octavian. Codrin had left orders that the Sages were not allowed to meet.

  “Where are we going?” Octavian asked.

  “Walk,” one guard said.

  “Where are you taking me?” he insisted.

  “Walk.” The guard clearly struggled not to hit him. In Severin, many knew about the power of the Circle, and how it had betrayed Mohor, Jara and Codrin, and they all hoped that Codrin would hang both Sages. It took a lot of persuasion from Vlaicu to keep the Itinerant Sages unharmed until a decision was made.

  In Codrin’s office, Octavian was given the same treatment and forced to read the treaty aloud. “Verenius acted in good faith,” Octavian said, only because he had to say it.

  “I like to think that I am acting in good faith too.”

  “What will you do to him?” the Sage asked, a little too eager.

  “Hang him,” Codrin said, looking away, but he caught Octavian’s fleeting smile. “You can watch through the window.”

  Forcing himself to react slowly, Octavian stood up and went to the window, from where the main plaza could be seen, and where two gallows had been built. “Why two?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

  “There are two Itinerant Sages in Severin.”

  “But I had nothing to do with the decision to break the treaty and sneak Saliné away.” Octavian’s composure had given way to panic, even though he knew that Verenius had taken most of the blame.

  ““Really?” Codrin asked, but Octavian was too dazed to argue. “You have half an hour to leave Severin.”

  “Thank you,” Octavian breathed. “I apologize if..., but can I take my guards and ... Verenius’s?”

  “He no longer needs them. Tell Maud that no Itinerant Sages will be admitted into Severin until I say so. The gallows,” he gestured at the window, “will stay there.”

  “We may need to communicate with you.”

  “I don’t see the need, at least not for a while; Frankis will be a boring and peaceful place until next year. But you can use merchants or protectors, if you really need to reach me. I need time to take over and organize Severin. Aron left a mess behind. The Visterie is empty. There is lawlessness everywhere. We have hanged two bands of robbers already. In spring, we may need to discuss my next steps.”

  “Severin is not a large city, but if you need help...”

  “I was trained to rule larger cities.”

  “Jara told me that you were a Duke’s son in Arenia.”

  “Don’t tempt me to use the second gallows for what you did to her and Mohor. Leave,” Codrin snapped. Pierre was right. This man is a snake, he thought, watching the Sage walking away.

  From the doorway, Octavian found the courage to speak again, “I apologize for asking, but can you give an answer to the Duke of Tolosa about the marriage proposal? It will help to avoid too much traffic between Leyona and Severin.”

  “Marie? I saw her a few years ago,” Codrin said, thoughtfully. “She was still a child. A beautiful one, as I remember. How old is she now?”

  “Next year, she will be eighteen, and she is as intelligent as she is beautiful.”

  “I see. She was marked by the Circle... Maud will have my answer in spring.” Codrin fell silent, and his face took on an expression that usually made men step back from him. Octavian’s face had gone white, and his hands started to shake. He clasped them abruptly. Turning his back on the Sage, Codrin stood up and went toward the window. “Marie is no longer a child,” he whispered. I feel so old.

  I’ve escaped... “Thank you,” Octavian said and left the room. Well, he mused, his hands still shaking, it seems that Codrin took the bait.

  This time, the guards took him out of the castle, where they met Vlaicu.

  “You are a lucky man, Sage,” Vlaicu said, his tone as chilly as the wind of a hard winter. “We saved a place for you there,” he pointed at the gallows, “and we were eager to see you dancing at the end of a rope.”

  As they walked toward the end of the plaza, a second team of guards escorted a hooded man out of the castle.

  “Wait,” Vlaicu said, and Octavian turned. “Watch and remember.” They stood in silence until the hanged man stopped kicking, and the rope was still. Even though Octavian wanted Verenius dead, he trembled, as if he were drenched by icy rain. “Move.”

  They walked in silence to the place where the four guards, two of them belonging to Verenius, were waiting, at the edge of the plaza. Ten of Vlaicu’s guards were there too, and horses for all of them.

  “Escort these snakes to the border with Leyona,” Vlaicu spat. “If one of them tries to run, or to return, kill him.”

  “I doubt that they will try,” Pintea, who was leading riders, said, “but I will be careful.” And we will ride like snails, to give Codrin more time.

  The men kept in a tight group until they passed the gate, then they spread out a little on the road. One of Verenius’s guards rode up and asked Octavian about his master, his voice a mere whisper.

  “Verenius was hanged,” Octavian said, trying to keep his satisfaction hidden. It was not hard to handle Codrin after all. He is a good soldier, but he lacks political skills. That suits us well. Saliné will be dead soon, and after his marriage wit
h the young Duchess of Tolosa, Maud should be able to handle Codrin. We will even offer Aron and Bucur to him. They are useless now. After that disaster in Poenari, who would think that the stars would align so well for Maud and me?

  Unable to speak, the guard nodded, his jaw clenched – he had protected Verenius for more than ten years.

  They were close to the crossroads where the eastern road to Mehadia split from the main one going to Leyona. Behind them, a pack of a hundred riders turned with a clatter of hooves and went east. Octavian threw a glance at Pintea.

  “Don’t worry, Sage,” Pintea said with cold amusement, “they are not coming for you. The war is over, and they are going home.”

  Octavian frowned, understanding both the tone and the deliberate snub. He was an Itinerant Sage; but he decided that he could swallow his pride for the moment. At least he was now convinced that Codrin was sending his soldiers home, so indeed Frankis would be a boring and peaceful place until spring.