Chapter Four—The Evil That Men Do

 

Curran stood his ground and reached for the hilt of his short sword. “I will not leave you unprotected.”

Under other circumstances, Tanis would have laughed at being called defenseless. Barehanded and without a coat of steel, he could kill almost any living thing. But that wasn’t the sort of trouble he suspected they were about to have. “I can see to my own defense. Be gone. Now!”

The faint jangle of metal warned that they were out of time. He grabbed the guardsman by the collar and brought his face down to eye level. “Next time I tell you to run, boy, you do it.”

Stubbornly, Curran shook his head. “Not if my leaving puts you in more danger.”

“I will kill you myself if you disobey me again.” Tanis meant every word, some fates were far worse than death and he would spare Curran all of those if he could.

His grim face and rock-steady determination finally got through to the young man. “Understood.”

“Good, now keep your mouth shut and agree with every word I say as if it came straight from your God himself.”

Tanis released the fabric as a collection of armored riders emerged from the wood. The man at the front was easy to identify. Even if the crest on his shield hadn’t given him away, the lordly bearing and air of command would have.

“Ah, it seems we were expected after all. How fortunate that two of my loyal subjects have ventured down to this private pool in the middle of the night to ready my bath.” The Duke gazed upon Tanis with a deceptively mild expression. “That is what you are doing down here, is it not, hunt master?”

“You know how I like to keep it warm for you, Luthias,” Tanis replied with lazy indifference.

Curran’s sharp gasp was covered by the sound of ten swords being freed from their scabbards. There was a meaty thunk as the guardsman’s short sword bit into the soil. Out of the corner of his eye, Tanis could see that the weapon was dropped vertically so the hilt rested within easy reach. Perhaps the guardsman wasn’t quite so naïve as he’d first appeared.

“Oh, put your weapons away, men. I am certain my hunt master meant no offense. After all, we can hardly expect a man who lives with animals to behave as if he is better than one.”

The insult glanced off Tanis’ tough hide. He long ago gave up caring what the Duke thought of him. However, he did bow his head slightly in acknowledgment of the rebuke. Luthias would demand that much obedience from him at least.

“Who’s the boy?”

“One of your wife’s elite. I was about to send him on his way with a bug in his ear.”

The Duke studied Curran for a minute. Tanis wasn’t sure what had given him away, but Luthias’ next question assured him that he had betrayed his feelings for the young man. Either that, or the Duke had taken a liking to the guardsman on his own. Either possibility portended equally bad results.

“Your name, boy?”

“Curran Aurick, your Grace.”

“Well, Curran Aurick, do you have permission to be out of barracks so late?”

“No, your Grace.”

“I see.” The Duke made a production of pondering the ramifications of the violation. Finally, he said, “As I am freshly home from witnessing more horrors than one man should have to see, I find I am unable to be as stern as the situation demands. Men, please escort Curran to the keep. He is to remain in Gavin’s room until I choose to release him.”

One of his knights protested the order. “Your Grace, forgive me, but surely you do not mean for us to leave you here unprotected?”

Anger painted a sneer across the Duke’s face. “If there ever comes a time that I fear to walk freely on my own land—and I vow to God that such a time will not come as long as I draw breath—I assure you I will take appropriate steps to cover my own arse. Now carry out my orders before I find reason to bar you from entering the castle at all.”

Tanis had no chance to whisper a word of warning to Curran as he grabbed his sword and followed the mounted men up the dirt trail that led back to the castle. He doubted the young man would have heeded his counsel anyway. His eagerness to please his Grace had been evident each time Luthias spoke. Poor, unlucky sod.

Then Tanis noted a detail that had escaped him before. The Duke normally traveled with twelve men, a legacy of the roundtable knights that Luthias superstitiously thought would protect him against the Celts’ attacks. At present, there were only ten. Two riderless horses trailed after the last man up the hill. Most of the men had kept to the edge of the trees. Moonlight had cast shadows upon their faces, shielding their identity. Who among Luthias’ innermost circle had not made it home alive?

The Duke dismounted and ground-hitched his warhorse. As he wrested his hands free of the steel gauntlets, he said, “I see you have discovered my closest ranks have been lessened by two.”

“Who?”

Luthias continued as if the question had never been asked. “The casualties were heavy this time. Some will speak against me for risking so many lives. I would counter, however, that we left behind a greater number of dead godless raiders so the sacrifice was not in vain. It will be some time before they rally enough men to strike against the might of England again.”

“Who?” Tanis repeated. Fear as to the answer chilled him far more thoroughly than the steam from the hot spring could counteract.

“Sir Kloven. Damn fine man, but not the best fighter. He was lost early on in the campaign.”

Tanis knew little about him, other than Gavin had been the one to champion him as a candidate for joining the Duke’s tight ranks. “And the other?”

“Gavin,” Luthias said shortly.

The Duke managed to free the buckles holding on the leg pieces. They fell to the ground in a noisy clatter. It was nothing compared to the angry buzzing in Tanis’ head. “Gavin is dead?”

Luthias nodded. “A great loss, to be sure. His death came at a most fortuitous time, however. His end became a rallying point. Without that inspiration, I doubt any of us would have made it out of the last engagement alive. Instead, we turned the tide and chased those soulless bastards back into the hills where they belong.”

Gavin. Dead. The reality of it had no substance in Tanis’ existence. He needed to know more. “How? How did he die?”

“Oh, bravely, you may be assured.” The Duke huffed in exasperation as his fat fingers failed to free the breastplate. “Come see to these bindings, will you? They are too tight for me to loosen from this angle.”

Tanis launched himself out of the water. Naked and dripping from every possible point, he advanced on Luthias. “Tell me how he died.”

“The camp minstrels crafted a song about it. Bloody, useless idiots sing it endlessly. You will hear a thousand different versions of the tale before the month is out, I am sure.”

“Give me no tales. I want the truth.”

Tanis wrenched at the tight fastenings, aware that if he didn’t find something for his hands to do, they’d end up around the Duke’s throat. As enjoyable as that act would be, he’d be taking his own life as well. There were ten witnesses, eleven counting Curran, who knew the man last in Luthias’ company. And though there were many times he’d longed for death to strike him down, he’d not ever stand for it to come about in this fashion.

The last strap came free, the steel chimed like a death knoll. Luthias heaved a sigh of relief. “The truth is seldom palatable.”

Tanis refused to back down, physically or verbally. “Tell me.”

“Gavin’s last command decision was quite foolhardy. He led his charge at a pace that far outstripped others in the field. He took a good number with him as he went down swinging, but one of those Celtic animals gored him through the heart before any of us could reach him.”

Tanis assessed what he saw in the Duke’s steady gaze. “You did not even try to save him.”

“Well, I do admit that my unit was closest, but we were engaged. I had no free swords to send to his rescue.”

Still trying to comprehend the magnitude of such a betrayal, Tanis said, “You stood by and watched him die. He was your lover, and yet you did nothing to save him.”

“It had been several months since Gavin had chosen to warm my bed. I assure you, I no longer considered him my lover by the time he died.” Luthias removed the rust-stained padding and other undergarments until he was stripped bare.

Tanis rocked back on his heels, his world spinning.

Words continued to spill from the Duke’s mouth. “I demand unswerving loyalty from my men. All who take the oath understand this. Gavin wavered. I no longer had an obligation to watch over him. It was his own choice, Tanis.”

“You filthy, despicable offspring of a goat.” Tanis backed Luthias into a tree, a sinewy forearm pressed against the Duke’s throat. The impact shook the leaves all the way up to the very top. “Gavin loved you.”

“Once, perhaps. But then he chose Kloven over me. I could not have that.”

“Your damn pride will one day kill us all. I should end your life now and spare the few innocents who believe a human heart still beats in your empty breast.” Tanis raised his arm to strike a killing blow with naught more than his hammer-like fist.

“No one lives forever, and eventually my time too will come. However, remember that if my death should come at your hands, there is more than yourself who will pay the price.”

No, Tanis hadn’t forgotten that, although the implications of extracting revenge for Gavin’s murder—and it was murder, surely as if Luthias had held the killing sword himself—hadn’t completely filtered through his mind. But now that the connection had been made between act and punishment, Tanis’ hands were tied. He let the Duke go, watching as the man nonchalantly returned to the pool.

“Fate will see that you pay a high price for your treachery, Luthias.”

“Perhaps.” The Duke lowered himself into the steaming water. “Young Curran looks a lot like Gavin at his age, do you agree?”

Please, no. Not the sweet rascal Curran. Hadn’t the man ruined enough lives for one lifetime? “I did not study him that closely.”

Luthias fingered the earth that had been roughened during Curran’s violent release. “He looks quite the capable sort. Now that there is room in my inner circle, I will have to see if he meets my standards.”

“He is soft from guarding your simple-minded wife. Too soft for your tastes, I am sure.”

“I thought you did not get a good look at him.”

Tanis silently cursed himself. He never should have strayed into the clearing. His company brought nothing but misery of one kind or another to those he met under the moonlight. “I know his duties well enough.”

“Speaking of duties, I think it is time that you see to your own. I am sure my people will want to celebrate my victorious return.”

Tanis bundled his clothes under his arm, then left the small clearing without so much as a backward glance. By the Gods, he prayed he would live to see the day that Luthias paid for his many sins. Until then there was naught he could do but continue to lead the solitary life that kept meat on his Grace’s table and his head off the executioner’s chopping block.

And try to forget about Gavin, Curran and any chance at happiness he might have had.

Overhead, Athena soared, releasing the wail that he could not permit to escape his aching, heavy chest.

 

 

 

Curran paced the confines of Sir Gavin’s quarters as dawn’s blush receded, leaving the sky a bright blue. No one had come to explain why he was being detained, and a locked door prevented him from wandering out to find answers on his own. He wondered what he’d done to deserve such treatment, for surely if he were to be punished for cleansing himself in the Duke’s private waters they’d be holding him in a cell, not in these lavish rooms.

Yet he couldn’t think of another transgression that would warrant a personal dressing-down by the Duke’s most trusted advisor. Not that Curran considered himself an altar boy. But he’d certainly know if he’d done something so offensive as to require a tongue-lashing from Sir Gavin, wouldn’t he?

This question drove him crazy all morning. He couldn’t sleep for fear of being caught napping when he should be vigilant, respectful of all things that were not rightly his. When the time for the noonday meal arrived, judging by the grumblings of his empty stomach, there finally came a knock at the door.

Curran couldn’t open it, but did call for the servant on the other side to enter. It had to be a servant as no one of the noble class would think to alert the occupants of a room before they strode in, certainly not within their own castle.

There was another round of muffled banging before the door opened. Evander, one of the higher-ranking servants in the castle, fell through the opening, landing on the huge burden he carried in his arms.

Curran hurried over to the man and helped him to his feet. “Are you hurt?”

“Nay, sir. I be old and clumsy, ‘tis all.”

“What have you brought there?” The bundle had been wrapped in Curran’s own cloak.

“Your belongings, sir.”

“Am I to be dismissed from service then?”

Evander shook his iron grey capped head. “‘Tis not for me to say, young sir. I was told to fetch your things from the home guard’s barracks and leave them here. More I do not know.”

The old servant kept his head bowed, avoiding Curran’s eyes. Although servants showed more respect toward others while in the royal chambers, they usually relaxed around the guards when left alone. Evander was one of the few Curran counted as a friend. He didn’t understand why Evander suddenly spoke to him with such formality.

Curran kneeled on the floor and inspected his possessions to see if anything had been left behind. “They are too heavy for one man to carry alone. You should have asked for help.”

Evander backed up, his eyes still on the floor. “I alone serve this room. That is the way the Duke wishes it.”

Several questions sprang to mind but the servant vanished before Curran could utter one. In the silence that followed Evander’s departure, he could clearly hear the sound of the lock slipping back into place.

“Imprisoned once more,” Curran said aloud though there was no one but himself to hear.

The contents of the bundle were wrapped with some amount of care. Even so, he noted his pewter mug had a new dent, his favorite spoon bent. There was a pair of drawers that didn’t seem to be his, but since they had a small coin in the pocket he wasn’t going to cast them aside.

The dent in the cup though…

The door opened after a turn of the lock. Assuming it was Evander returning with another delivery, Curran continued to rummage through the items on the floor. “Shall I remain bent over, my good man, so that you may aim a well-placed kick to my backside as it appears you have already done to my best cup?”

The clearing of a masculine throat caused Curran to look up. He needed no more than a glimpse of the fancy black boots to know he was speaking irreverently to one of a station well above that of a house servant.

If his goose hadn’t been cooked before, it surely was now.