‘Well, you use your eyes first, of course, but then you have to close them so that you can use your ears.’
‘Your ears?’
‘Close your eyes,’ he said.
She did and so did I, and then I felt a little foolish.
‘Now listen. What do you hear?’
‘I hear you, and I hear the men moving around.’
‘Good. What else?’
‘One of the horses is snorting, and I think something is creaking – his bridle, maybe.’
‘Keep going,’ Brasti said. ‘Deeper.’
‘I hear the wind picking up the leaves.’
‘That’s right. You’re doing very well. Now try to listen past it. Try to listen to the sound of the wind coming up again. What does that sound like?’
‘It sounds like – it sounds like a cat, stepping on leaves.’
‘That’s right, like a cat, it’s— Oh shit!’
I opened my eyes and saw Brasti jumping on top of the forward wagon and pulling out his bow and arrows. The real ones.
‘What is it?’ Feltock asked.
‘Cats stepping on leaves,’ he said. ‘At this distance the only thing that sounds like cats stepping on leaves is a group of men trying to move quietly.’
Feltock didn’t hesitate. ‘Arm up – now, damn it! Get the horses back, get the wagons circled, carriage in the centre. Protect the Lady.’
As the men jumped to obey, Feltock asked, ‘Can you tell me how many?’
Brasti shook his head. ‘I can’t be sure, except it’s a lot more than us.’
It didn’t take long to find out, for as soon as the brigands realised that we were pulling out weapons they began to rush towards us. I could see movement in the forest on either side of us.
‘Damned trees,’ Feltock swore. ‘Can’t see a bloody thing – and we’re sitting ducks out in the open road like this.’
The men were forming up, using the cover of the wagons to prepare for a charge, if the right moment came. Brasti was looking for targets, sighting along his bow.
I saw Aline rushing to the wagon where she had put her own ‘bow’ and shouted, ‘Aline! Go to the Lady Valiana and stay there!’
I had to turn because a flurry of arrows hit the ground in front of me.
‘Do you have any more pistols?’ I asked Feltock.
‘They’re rubbish,’ he said. ‘They have to make a dozen of the damned things to get one that shoots straight. Besides, they’re single-shot; they take too damned long to reload.’
Brasti let fly an arrow and I followed its path into the forest where it hit a man in the shoulder.
‘I wouldn’t do that,’ called out a voice from the trees.
‘Yeah? Why is that?’ Feltock called out.
Arrows rained down, lodging in the dirt in front of our feet. There must have been thirty of them.
‘Damn, Feltock – why didn’t you bring more men on this journey if it’s this bad up here?’
‘Her Ladyship’s orders: ten men, counting me, and no more.’
‘Why would Valiana do that when she knew she would be in danger?’
Feltock looked me in the eye. ‘It wasn’t her – it was her mother, the Duchess. She gave the orders.’
Kest and I exchanged glances; he looked as confused as I was – maybe even more so, in fact, because he was still planning on killing Valiana.
The brigand leader shouted out again: ‘Leave the wagons and be on your way. There’s no need for bloodshed here.’
An arrow flew out of the forest and lodged itself in Blondie’s shoulder.
‘Except for him. That’s for my man you took in the shoulder. Fair’s fair, after all.’
‘We can’t leave the wagons,’ I called out. ‘The road ahead is too long and too dangerous. We’ll starve.’
‘Better you than us,’ the leader answered. ‘Every man has the right to eat and to take a measure of comfort.’
‘Says who?’ Feltock muttered.
The brigand leader had good ears. ‘Says King’s Law, my salty old friend. You can look it up yourself if you can find someone to teach you how to read.’
‘Well, isn’t he well spoken for a bandit?’ Feltock said to me.
Well spoken indeed, and right on King’s Law. Interesting.
‘Negotiation,’ I called back. ‘Every man or woman has the right to negotiation before blood.’
There was a pause.
‘Very well,’ the leader said. ‘We’ll come out, twelve of us for twelve of you, but mark that I have more than enough archers here to put you down if you try anything, and we’ll have our weapons at the ready.’
‘Marked and fair,’ I said.
They came out of the forest: rough men, mostly, with ragged clothes and beaten iron swords or wooden spears for weapons, followed last by their leader. He carried a longsword that shone when the sun hit it: no rust on that weapon. On his head he wore a brown broad-brimmed hat, weather-beaten and worn. On his back he wore a Magister’s greatcoat.
‘Bloody hells,’ Brasti said.
Feltock looked at me through narrowed eyes. He had told me as much, that some Trattari had taken on brigand ways.
‘He can’t be a Magister. He’s just killed one and taken his coat.’
‘No,’ Kest said, ‘I recognise him now. That’s Cunien from Orison. He was a cantor.’
I marked him too now. Cunien became a cantor not long after I did. As a cantor, he settled matters of law when another Magister had failed. To be a cantor, you had to be ready to go back and mete out the justice denied when another Magister had been killed or captured.
‘Well now, isn’t this a fine reunion,’ Cunien said. He ambled over to us and surveyed our company. His eyes fell on Valiana in the carriage. ‘You’re a pretty one, aren’t you? Can I have a kiss?’ Then he noticed Trin next to her. ‘Oh, my. Two for the price of one – how delightful!’
‘Don’t,’ I said. ‘No one’s been seriously hurt here yet.’
‘Why should that matter to him?’ Valiana said, leaving the carriage and striding towards us, Trin behind her.
‘My Lady—’ Feltock began.
‘Why would he care? He’s a Trattari – this is what they do, isn’t it?’ She turned on me and slapped me hard in the face. ‘That’s for all your high words and self-righteousness about what’s wrong with everyone else. You and yours are no better than anyone else – worse, even, because you look down on your betters.’
Cunien smoothed down his moustaches and smiled at Valiana. ‘Will this take long? I don’t mean to rush you, but I’d like to get a look in those wagons soon.’
‘I am the daughter of the Duchess of Hervor,’ she said, ‘and I’ll die before I let you take anything from me, tatter-cloak!’
Cunien’s voice was deadly cold. ‘That you will, girl, if you call me that again. But as much entertainment as you’re providing here, I’m afraid we’ve reached the end of our negotiations. When I saw you from the trees I was curious to see if you were really Greatcoats, or just some soldiers who had killed Magisters. But now I see you’re neither of those things. You’re just trained dogs working for the Duchess of Hervor: the bitch who had our King murdered. You’ve sunk low, First Cantor.’
‘Look who’s talking,’ Brasti said.
‘When there’s no law and no King, all you have left is a bit of food, the occasional woman and whatever small justice you can mete out in this world.’
He signalled to his men and they started to pull back towards the trees, leaving room for their archers. This was bad. He didn’t trust us, and I couldn’t speak to him with so many onlookers. I needed to know what he was doing out here with these brigands. I needed to know if any Greatcoats remained true.
‘Duel,’ I said quickly.
Cunien turned to look at me and smiled. ‘Duel? I don’t think so, Falcio. We’ll just take the wagons – feel free to fight, though. Knowing I’ve taken out a few of the Duchess’s men will keep me warm tonight.’