he looks a man twenty years younger when he’s in his armour bellowing at the palace guard.’ He glanced back towards the door of the duke’s private chambers.
‘Now,’ said Jim. ‘I’ve had your travel bags collected from your rooms, Hal. From here you’re to go straight to the stables where two horses are waiting. They are sturdy, but unremarkable, as is the tack. In short, once you’re out of the gate, you’re swords-for-hire, or young adventurers, or whatever brand of feckless gadabouts you care to be.
‘Half the ships in the Sea of Kingdoms are arrayed to the west of us, a blockade no captain could run. Every ship in and out is being boarded and inspected by someone, either captains loyal to the Crown, Montgomery’s faction, or Chadwick’s. But if you ride north for a few days, on the west coast you’ll find a fishing village called Kempton. Ask in the tavern for a man named Moss. He’ll show you to a boat you two can certainly handle. It’ll look shoddy, but in fact it’s in excellent condition, and with some luck you can hug the coast travelling north-east, and when you see any break, you can make a run for Bas-Tyra. Once there, find the Inn of the Black Ram, ask for Anton, and he’ll set you on your way to Edward.’ He looked from face to face. ‘Any questions?’
When there weren’t, he said, ‘Go now, and may the gods watch over you.’ Jim walked away.
‘And your grandfather,’ said Hal after him.
Hal turned and left, Ty a half-step behind. As they moved toward the stables, Ty said, ‘I do not envy that man.’
‘I never have,’ said Hal, as they turned a corner. ‘I admire him, for he has thankless and bloody work to do, but I would never wish his burdens on anyone.’
They hurried down a flight of stairs that led to a door opening on the old marshalling yard, and across it lay the royal stables. They were halfway across the dark yard when Hal realized there were no lanterns lit in the stable. Then he heard a nervous nicker from a horse inside.
His sword was out of its scabbard as he heard the faint click. He leaped to the right and slammed into Ty, knocking him over, and came up as a second crossbow bolt sped through the space just occupied by the young noble from Olasko.
Ty was a step behind Hal as they charged through the large open door into the royal stable. Without a word, both men dived headfirst, striking the ground in a tuck, and rolling to their feet, swords at the ready. The sound of crossbows being fired over their heads demonstrated the wisdom of their choice, and a horse cried out in pain and started kicking out at its stall as an errant bolt struck it.
Hal turned to his left and Ty to his right, protecting one another’s backs. They paused only for a moment before moving towards opposite ends of the large stable.
Hal saw a dark shape moving in a crouch while all around horses neighed and whinnied in panic. Hal knew that he had seconds before the assassin reloaded his crossbow or fled into the night. He charged.
The man rose up holding a small, one-handed bow which fired a dart rather than a bolt. Hal slashed with his sword, knocking the weapon aside, and punched the assassin hard in the face with his left hand. The man staggered back and Hal lunged, nicking him in the left side. Suddenly the man had two dirks out, and executed a fast feint followed by a slash towards Hal’s throat. Hal barely fell back enough to avoid losing the fight there and then.
He ducked and a dirk cut through air where he had been standing a moment before. Then he jabbed with his sword and felt the tip strike the man’s already injured side. The assassin gasped in pain and both men were suddenly enmeshed in a deadly duel.
Hal stepped back, his sword’s point aimed at his opponent, who crouched and took his measure. It was clear that the assassin had expected Hal to be dead and himself to be safely away by now. Hal realized he had two opportunities to emerge victorious: either kill the assassin and hope Ty did the same with his opponent, or keep him occupied until relief arrived. It was the middle of the night, but someone from the nearby servants’ quarters would surely hear the struggle, or notice the absence of the certainly now-dead lackeys who had failed to return from readying the horses for him and Ty.
The assassin also realized that and knew his only hope of survival was to finish this quickly. He suddenly threw one of his dirks.
Hal managed to beat the blade aside and stumbled backwards, trying to get his blade around from his blocking move to a position at which he could employ the point.
The assassin didn’t give him the chance, but lowered his shoulder and charged. Hal brought his sword-hand back hard, striking the rushing thug on the side of the head with his pommel. That staggered him and Hal felt an off-target blow slide across his side, as the dirk missed his torso. He slammed the man over the head again, gripped the back of his shirt with his left hand and fell onto the extended right arm. The sound of bone cracking accompanied by a gasp of pain was heard as he struck the ground, his full weight on the assassin’s arm. Hal drew back his sword hilt and slammed the man on the head for a third time, rendering him senseless.
Hal rolled up onto his feet, his sword pointed at the now-motionless assassin, as shouts of enquiry came from the servants’ quarters.
Hal glanced into the gloom of the stable in time to see Ty approaching with his sword at the ready. ‘Yours?’ he asked.
‘Dead,’ said Ty. ‘This one?’
‘Not yet.’
Servants with lanterns arrived, followed moments later by palace guards. Hal looked at his attacker in the lantern light. He was an unremarkable man, slight of build and wearing simple garb, a city man who would easily blend into a crowd.
‘He doesn’t look like an assassin,’ said Hal.
‘Neither did mine,’ said Ty. ‘But they almost did the job.’ He quickly knelt and opened the man’s mouth, motioning for a torch to be brought close to his face. ‘No false teeth,’ he said. ‘Not fanatics like the Nighthawks, then.’ He sheathed his sword as he stood, and motioned for the guards to pick up the unconscious killer.
Hal said, ‘Take him to a cell and notify Jim Dasher.’
The guards lifted him up. A servant cried suddenly, ‘Oh, dear! Poor Lonny and Mark are dead!’
‘See to them,’ said Hal to another pair of guards.
‘How did you know?’ asked Ty.
‘Know what?’
‘They were there. To knock me down?’
‘I heard a click when he set the trigger on his crossbow.’
Ty was silent for a moment, then laughed. ‘So, for want of some lubricant, we’re alive.’
Hal chuckled. ‘I almost got myself killed forgetting we’re not duelling.’
‘Ah, yes,’ said Ty. ‘It can be a bad habit, trying to fence while your opponent is brawling. Swords have edges, too.’
Patting his sword, Hal said, ‘And pommels. They make a fair bludgeon.’
‘What now?’
Looking around at the building crowd, Hal said, ‘As much as I would like to tarry and find out exactly who is trying to kill me, I think it best if we follow orders. We ride.’
‘Wise
