Geroslaw did his best to make his face and the language of his body as nonplussed as possible. He needed to demonstrate professionalism, not pleasure, at this so-called revelation of the count’s designs.
He also had to contend with the discovery that Kastan, charmer of horses and ender of lines, was neither a pretty soldier, nor camp scribe, nor even messenger but a lady of the count’s court.
Time for that later. Now, business. Edmund was speaking, and he’d already missed the first few points the mountain had made.
“…To that end, I need the right mind to help settle and sort as we move.”
Jastrab’s response was smooth and sure, nodding and gesturing to the curly topped head of Daian.
“One of the best siege engineers I’ve had the pleasure to know, Excellency. Daian’s young but quite the prodigy.”
Edmund nodded once, then beckoned Daian to step forward.
Daian obliged, blond curls bouncing as he did.
“Sergeant … Daian, is it?”
“Yes … Excellency.” He didn’t sound so much nervous as distracted. It was as if his mind had been suddenly called back from some sleep, only to find his body had already been up and in the doings for some time. He seemed disoriented but not overly concerned about that fact.
“Where did you learn?”
Daian blinked.
“Mostly from Captain Jastrab, Excellency.” He suddenly widened his eyes, realizing the count’s actual question wasn’t about soldiery. “Ah,” said he. “My master was Sergeant Obránce of Cervený Kámen. It’s on the northwestern coast, I think.”
Edmund nodded.
“It is.” He paused, considering, then seemed to settle on something. “Tell me. Balista je můj oštěp. Katapult je moje…?”
Geroslaw couldn’t follow the words. They’d come out too fast, and while passable, his Kovalunth would hardly be considered fluent. He saw that the room’s other occupants didn’t share his confusion.
“I don’t … what?” Daian looked not embarrassed but confused.
“Excellency, Daian doesn’t speak much Kovalunth, I’m afraid.” Jastrab laid a hand on the young engineer’s shoulder.
Edmund grimaced.
“Translate for him, then.” He seemed a touch put out of countenance. Geroslaw thought this was more likely pride than haste, given the look on the count’s face.
Jastrab bowed and did as bidden.
“Balista je můj oštěp. Katapult je moje…? The Ballista is my spear. The catapult is my…?”
“Oh, hammer!” Daian’s response was delighted and so rapid as to be almost comical.
Edmund’s face split into a satisfied grin.
“Ah, excellent. You do know the proverb.”
“Yes. Just not in Kovalunth.” He paused, then added as if he’d just realized it, “Although it makes sense that it would be in Kovalunth, I suppose. You invented siegecraft, as far as I was always taught.” He grinned again. “Forgive me, Excellency.”
Edmund made a dismissive gesture.
Geroslaw fought the urge to breathe a sigh of relief. Daian had stumbled into victory, it seemed. Then again, he often seemed to do that.
“If I ensure you have capable scouts, can you provide them with the information you’ll need to ensure swift repairs?” He paused, then elaborated. “I want to ensure we have supplies made and arranged before we arrive at a site whenever possible. I don’t want to delay fortification and repair efforts any longer than strictly necessary.”
Daian nodded, considering.
“I think so? It depends on the scouts, their overall intelligence, ability to understand basic mathematics, and so on.” All at once, he seemed to realize that Eobum was there and was, apparently, commander of the count’s scouts. “I mean no offense.”
Eobum kept his face flat.
“You offered none, either. If is a long word. You don’t know my men, and you don’t know me.”
Geroslaw rather liked that phrase.
I’ll have to remember that one.
He wasn’t certain he much cared for Eobum, though. The man was too quiet, somehow, and had a manner about him that was easy to overlook. Such men were often the very last persons one wanted to forget about. Such amnesia would end with a knife in the night, like as not.
Edmund nodded, then turned to Jastrab.
“This other—Geroslaw, was it?”
Geroslaw tried not to look surprised at his name’s use.
“Yes, Excellency.” Jastrab sounded a touch unhappy. “I’d meant for him to lead your advanced party when we pressed forward.”
“Fine.”
“But…”
Edmund raised his blond-going-grey brows.
“But?”
Jastrab cleared his throat.
“Excellency, may I speak plainly?”
Edmund nodded.
“I think you’d better.”
“How important is Aetanis’s victory?” He paused, then added a reluctant follow-up question. “How important is his life?”
Geroslaw noted that nobody in the tent seemed shocked at this question. This made a certain amount of sense. Tournaments were mostly safe things, but at bottom, the combatants still rode horses … still wielded weapons of war (albeit blunted ones). People died … and without malice or intent, most of the time. Then of course, there were the cutthroats who prowled the streets and roads, bars, and brothels in Zlaté Pole. They came out in force when a tournament was scheduled. It was a damned spree for them. While everyone seemed to know these basic truths, Geroslaw still found himself pleased to see that nobody took his captain’s words as a threat or a convenient excuse to remove the boy. Likely he hadn’t done more than act an ass, as far as true villainy went.
“I need him to survive intact. I would prefer him to see victory at tournament, but not if it’s handed to him. There’s neither instruction nor proof of lessons learned to be gained by that sort of nonsense.”
Jastrab nodded.
“Then, I fear, I will need to send Geroslaw along.”
“With Aetanis?” Edmund sounded surprised.
“Yes, Excellency. With Aetanis. I need a man whom I trust not only on the field but off of it and off the leash … if you follow.”
“Aetanis’ obsession isn’t a skilled enough leader, Captain?”
Jastrab bowed his head, ordering his thoughts.
“On the field, Excellency, he’s a fine leader. He understands the field and the ebb and flow of combat. He has swift enough reactions, physically and mentally. What he doesn’t have is my personal trust outside of supervision. I did my best to stop the young Lord from taking him, but in the interest of laying the matter to rest as you asked…”
That was bold, Jastrab, Geroslaw thought. You’ve called him out on his rashness … and in company, no less.
Edmund sighed and nodded.
“And you trust this man to balance things and keep the boy safe?”
Jastrab nodded.
“I trust Geroslaw to do everything in his power to keep Lord Aetanis from being harmed by everyone and anyone, save Aetanis himself. I don’t think it reasonable for him to be held responsible for the lord picking fights, speaking to his betters without respect, and so on. In a straight-up fight, and in matters of street and shadow, however…”
Edmund nodded.
“There, you trust him to protect the boy.” He nodded once more. “Come here.” He gestured Geroslaw forward.
He did as instructed, bowing formally.
“You seem familiar to me.”
Geroslaw waited.
“Where are you from?”
“Auburg, Excellency.”
Edmund nodded.
“That’s why. I see your home hid ’hind your hair.”
Geroslaw grinned, nodding.
“Been long and long since I’ve heard that phrase, Excellency.”
“Taught me by your county’s heir. He did me a service during the little rebellion we had some years ago.”
Geroslaw knew this story well.
“So it’s said. His father wasn’t thrilled with that decision, but it certainly won him glory.”
“It won him friendship and proved his own, as well as his honor.” Edmund looked almost wistful. “Do you know Zlaté Pole well?”
Geroslaw thought about that—about how he would answer, then nodded a single time. Better to keep his answers direct.
“Yes, my lord. I do.”
“Do you know of a reputable place for the Lord Aetanis to house himself and his men for the tournament?”
Here, Geroslaw smiled openly.
“Ohhhhh, yes, Excellency, though I’ll need to ride there soon if I’m to secure it. The War of Counties always draws from far and wide.”
Edmund made an inarticulate sound of consideration at this.
“You’re certain, or as certain as may be, that you can arrange this?”
Geroslaw nodded but was surprised and gratified to see Kastan step forward.
“Excellency, I’ve spent some time with this man—it was to him I delivered your message for the captain yesterday. I won’t claim I know him well, of course, but in that time, he has impressed me as a man who says what he means and means what he says.” She paused, voice becoming less full—almost childlike and fearful. “I do not know how much stock or worth that assessment may carry, but I’m bound to provide it to you.”
Geroslaw tried not to show his reaction to this. He was pleased, humbled, grateful, and powerfully driven to turn to her and speak to her—perhaps more—to show his gratitude. There was also a sudden desire to glare at the count. He’d managed to cow her without so much as a look or a word. This suggested a history of some sort between them that he wanted to unearth and then unmake.
“No, Kastan, you were right to speak up on his behalf. I thank you for it.” Edmund smiled at her, voice and face softening in a way that seemed quite automatic and quite genuine. “Very well. On Jastrab’s word and the Lady Kastan’s, as well as your own comportment thus far, Geroslaw of Auburg, I agree. You will travel to Zlaté Pole, procure lodgings in your intended inn, and protect Aetanis from all that you are able.”
“Very good, Excellency.”
Jastrab spoke up next.
“Geroslaw? Please head back to camp and ensure you’re ready to ride out in the morning. Then await me at my tent. You’ll dine with us tonight, and I’ll give you all the relevant information on numbers and gear traveling with Lord Aetanis.”
Geroslaw bowed to the count, nodded deferentially to the captain, then to the rest of the room, and made his way out.
I might get my way after all. A trip home, a ride to tournament, a chance to serve and show beneath the count’s eye as Jastrab wanted… I only have to see to Steffan and make certain he doesn’t get the boy killed or maimed.
Geroslaw wondered if Kastan would see him before he left. He hoped so, but he rather doubted it. He was going home, after all. How much goodwill could one man expect from fate in a single day?
He snorted and walked back toward camp to do as Jastrab had asked.
