‘Michael – strip him absolutely naked. Give him my robe to wear, but take every jewel, every ring – everything. Long Paw-’
The swordsman nodded. ‘I’ll do it. I’ve searched a few bastards in my time.’
‘If he does anything that seems remotely like an attack, kill him. And until he’s stripped, don’t bring him within a hundred yards of this tent.’ The Duke put his dagger away.
Jehan stood with his sword drawn. ‘What if – he himself-’
The Duke’s eyes were glowing. ‘I can deal with that,’ he said.
‘Jules Kronmir, my lord,’ Ser Michael reported.
Kronmir was brought in. He was surrounded by naked swords, and yet he had a certain dignity. He bowed, very slowly – almost like a pantomime of a bow.
Morgan Mortirmir’s eyes widened. ‘I know you!’ he said.
Kronmir nodded his head, again, very slowly.
‘The amulet!’ Mortirmir said. ‘My lord, I know what exploded. Damn me to hell, I held it in my hand.’
‘Not that one, but another,’ Kronmir said. ‘But yes. You warned me, and I didn’t heed you.’
Father Arnaud’s sword wavered and then moved to cover Mortirmir’s back.
‘You two know each other?’ Jehan asked.
Mortirmir, apparently too young to understand where this was going, nodded. ‘Yes – we met at the ancient temple of Minerva on the hillside, and then later, in an inn. He showed me an amulet.’
He’s telling the truth, Harmodius said. Christ on the cross, I didn’t look into his memories. But there he is.
Kronmir looked back and forth. ‘You needn’t guess,’ he said. ‘I’ll tell you. But only if you will protect me.’
‘You are here to change sides?’ the Duke asked.
‘This would be an odd method of committing suicide otherwise, so yes,’ Kronmir said.
‘You’ll tell us everything – names, places, dates.’ The Duke leaned forward.
‘Anything about Duke Andronicus and his plot – yes.’ Kronmir bowed his head. ‘He has betrayed me. But I will say nothing about any former employers.’
‘He’s not exactly in a position to bargain,’ Long Paw said.
‘But you see, my lord, I am,’ Kronmir said. ‘After all, I know where the Emperor is.’
The Duke allowed himself to sink back into his pillows. He caught Father Arnaud’s eye. ‘You know,’ he said, ‘sometimes I have to wonder whether God is really against me.’ He turned his head back to Kronmir. ‘Put your hands between mine and swear.’
Kronmir knelt. He swore a simple oath, like any man-at-arms joining the company.
‘You’ll take the word of an assassin?’ Long Paw spat.
‘Sworn to a mercenary. Are we all not honourable men?’ The Duke laughed weakly. ‘I need to sleep. Protect Master Kronmir, who I expect will be our most valuable asset. Hide him – most especially from the palace. Long Paw, he’s yours. If Gelfred’s wounded, who has the scouts?’
‘I’d like to try Favour,’ Jehan said. ‘But he has an arrow in his gut. It’s healed, but he’ll be as long as – well, as long as you in recovering.’
‘Has to be Starling,’ Ser Michael said. ‘Man’s a prick, but he’s a competent prick.’
‘Make it so,’ the Duke said. ‘Oh, my God.’ He lay back. ‘The Emperor. Kronmir – don’t get killed.’
Kronmir smiled. ‘I don’t intend to,’ he said.
The Duke’s eyes closed, and then sprang open. ‘Wait!’ he said. ‘I have a plan.’
Jehan groaned. ‘Here it comes,’ he said.
Part Three
Chapter Seventeen
Ticondaga and Albinkirk – Ser John Crayford and Amicia
In the end, Amicia won the old knight over to the notion of passing the Adnacrags again in winter. It took him a month to heal – a month of enduring the ruthless enquiries of a woman untramelled by the least restraint as to manners or morals. Amicia had never known anything like the Lady of the North, and she hoped that she never would again.
On the day when Ser John announced that they would take their merchants and march, Ghause smiled at Amicia across her solar. ‘Do you miss him so much?’ she asked, and Amicia’s heart almost stopped beating.
But Ghause swept on. ‘Do you know the Queen’s friend, Lady Mary?’ she asked.
Amicia was, by this time, adept enough at defending herself. She answered cautiously.
‘I met her in the aftermath of the great battle,’ she said.
Ghause laughed. ‘There are no “great battles”, woman,’ she said. ‘Yon Lady Mary is betrothed to my Gavin.’
‘Yes, I believe I knew there was somewhat between them,’ Amicia said without lowering her guard, and Ghause laughed aloud.
‘This is my dotage!’ she said. ‘To sit in my solar and gossip about the lovers of my sons.’ She leaned forward. ‘I like you, witch.’
Those words stayed with Amicia to the end of her life.
The Earl of the North sent twenty knights and almost a hundred soldiers to march with the caravan across the winter snows, and they went in sleighs. The Northwallers had many ways of moving in winter that were almost forgotten in Albinkirk, if they’d ever been known there, and the Etruscan merchants were shocked, and a little delighted, to see how fast a horse-drawn sleigh could move along an Adnacrag lake. They could easily make ten leagues in two hours – sometimes more – and then they’d face another weary climb up a ridge to the next lake. Sometimes the military road was clear enough to take the sleighs, and once, they had to unload every bundle and carry it.
The Earl’s youngest son accompanied the convoy, commanding his father’s men. He was dark and morose, like many young men, and yet Amicia found him easy to like – not just a pale reflection of his older brothers, but a youth already giving signs of being a solemn, cautious man. He found her watching the bundles of furs moved by ropes up a ridge.
‘Winter is always with us,’ he said. ‘We make war in winter, and we travel if we have to. It is the one time that most of the Wild is asleep.’ He leaned close. ‘What is Gabriel like, now?’ he asked.
She closed her mind with a snap and closed her expression, as well. ‘He is a good knight, ser. That is all I can say.’
It took them just six days to reach the crossing of the river where the whole adventure had begun, and the sleighs crossed on ice – breaking through in many places, but never so deep as to spill their loads. The wagon beds were shaped like boats and waterproof.
The Northwallers knew all about winter.
And when she could see Albinkirk between her horse’s ears, Amicia allowed her eyes to mist over a little.
Riding gave her too much time to think.
She kissed Ser John goodbye in the yard of the citadel of the town, and the thin population cheered their captain, the merchants, and the young nun.
She had a serious meeting with the bishop, and went back to her duties at South Ford.
Lonika – Duke Andronicus
Three hundred leagues and more to the east, servants were removing the spruce wreaths from the beautiful mosaicked hall. It was almost a month since Epiphany. The old Duke of Thrake sat in his Great Hall with his son and a dozen other of his officers arrayed before him like supplicants – including the magister, Aeskepiles, who lurked at the back like a criminal.
‘I had to, Pater. He was the very spawn of Satan – he was driving our people out of the city and beating us everywhere.’ Demetrius stood straight before his father. He didn’t appear to feel any remorse.
Andronicus sat, chin in his hand, on a heavy chair very like a throne. ‘You asked me, and I said no. Then you went behind my back with that sorcerer and you had him killed.’
‘What matters it?’ Demetrius asked. ‘He’s dead and buried. The princess is dismissing his company. She’s being careful – wouldn’t you, when dealing with such a nest of vipers? But they’ll be gone in a few days, and then we can march south.’