“He died in his sleep,” Janel said. “His heart failed him.” She stepped back. “But you … where’s your father? I expected to see him—?” The words tripped and tangled.
“He didn’t die in his sleep, but die he has. Murdered by a vile cabal, including my castle steward. I’m told I have you to thank for bringing me the last of my father’s assassins.” Tamin looked past her, toward the bandits.
Brother Qown shouldn’t have been surprised at what happened next. Tamin, Baron of Barsine, walked past Count Janel to where Dedreugh’s soldiers watched the prisoners and stopped before Kalazan.
Tamin slapped the man.
Kalazan grinned. “Nice to see you too, Baron.” Shockingly, he dispensed with the Joratese suffixes, the cases showing respect: my baron, my lord.
Brother Qown wasn’t fluent in Karo, the old Joratese language, but he recognized the insult. Kalazan had, with a single word, denied Tamin’s status as his liege. He declared Tamin unworthy to be his liege.
Baron Tamin would have taken it as a mortal insult even if the words hadn’t come from his father’s accused murderer.
“Is this the part where I’m supposed to throw you into the dungeon until your little friends can organize a rescue?” Tamin asked. Without waiting for an answer, he waved his hand at Dedreugh. “Kill him.”
“No!” cried Gan the Miller’s Daughter. She threw herself forward, so suddenly and unexpectedly she caught the soldier off guard. The rope tied to her hands pulled the next person in line, Vidan, off balance too. He yanked Jem Nakijan’s rope, who fell. Jem’s bonds wrenched Kalazan’s.
His ties came undone.
The soldiers may have been caught off guard, but not Kalazan. He stole a sword from a guard’s belt, slicing the man’s side as he pulled the weapon free. Another guard stood close enough to act, but Ninavis’s foot caught the man under the chin before he moved, sending him tumbling backward.
Arasgon reared up on his hind legs, screaming as Ninavis fell to the ground. Her short cry ended in sobbing as she landed on her injured leg.
Kalazan grabbed Count Janel from behind and placed his sword’s edge against her throat.
“Stop!” Tamin cried out. “Everyone, stop!”
The courtyard stilled. All present paused as they noticed Kalazan’s hostage.
Brother Qown heard Kalazan whisper, “Apologies, my count.”
He noticed Kalazan had remembered the correct form this time. My count. My liege.
“Leave her be,” Baron Tamin ordered.
Kalazan smiled as he pressed the sword harder against Janel. He pulled her back toward the gate entrance.
Count Janel didn’t speak. She clenched her jaw, her hands tight fists at her sides. Brother Qown recognized the signs well enough. Kalazan had seen Janel fight Ninavis. Didn’t he understand what would happen if she defended herself?
“Let her go,” Tamin repeated.
“Not yet,” Kalazan said. “It’s rude, I know, but your reception’s been so cold I’ve little choice but to refuse your hospitality.” He backed up toward the archway.
“Very well,” Tamin said.
Kalazan smiled.
“Shoot through her,” Baron Tamin ordered.
Every eye present stared at him in disbelief.
Every eye but those owned by Dedreugh and his soldiers, who followed orders.
Much happened then.
First, Kalazan pushed Janel forward, away from him. Arasgon shielded Janel with his body. The crossbows fired, or rather misfired, as their drawn strings snapped, all at once. Of the crossbows that discharged, one bolt hit Arasgon’s saddle, and another missed him by a coin’s width. The remaining soldiers didn’t waste their ammunition attempting to find a mark. Given his size, Arasgon made an excellent wall.
Kalazan ran.
He skipped the main doors and darted to the side. He then slipped through a door behind a bulwark, even as soldiers found the clear shot they needed.
“After him!” Dedreugh screamed. “After him!”
The soldiers were quick to give chase, although some stayed to keep an eye on the prisoners.
Dedreugh crossed back over to the guard who’d lost his weapon. He grabbed the man by the jerkin and lifted him right off the ground, giving him a violent shake. “Idiot! Take these filth to the jail, and if anything goes wrong, I swear you’ll join them.”
Brother Qown rushed to Nina’s side. The woman was unconscious, which didn’t surprise him. Landing on her broken leg must have been excruciating.
Still, she was alive.
While Brother Qown looked over Nina, he heard the others debating another prisoner.
A soldier: “What about this one?”
Tamin answered, “She’s saelen, is she not? If she wants to slum with thieves, so be it. Put ‘Lady’ Ganar with her own kind.”
Saelen.3 Brother Qown remembered his Karo lessons. Lost, or a stray. A terrible insult by Joratese standards. Almost as bad as thorra, but with the implication the subject is a small child who doesn’t understand what’s in their own best interest. His heartbeat skipped. For a second, he thought Tamin referred to the count. But no. Tamin meant Gan the Miller’s Daughter, gnashing her teeth and straining to reach the baron with fingers hooked into claws. She’d have made his beautiful face much less so if her hands had been free.
Tamin had already turned to Count Janel. “I’m so sorry for this unfortunate incident.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Shoot through her?”
“My men are the best marksmen in the whole dominion,” he assured her. “I had no fear at all for your safety.” He gestured toward the main castle entrance. “Shall we? I’ll have my men deliver your gift to the kitchen for the evening meal.”
Meanwhile, two guards bent down next to Brother Qown and picked up Ninavis.
“She’s injured,” he told them. “You must be careful. Let me follow, and I’ll treat her wounds.”
They paid Brother Qown not the slightest attention.
“What happens to the other saelen?” Count Janel sounded bored, the question asked for propriety’s sake. When she saw Brother Qown approaching, she made a small motion with her hand as a warning: I will handle this.
“Oh, the usual—we’ll award them at the tournament,” Tamin said. “Kalazan’s fate is already sealed. We’ll capture him soon enough.”
A scream rang out.
Brother Qown might have thought it signaled the promised capture, except Gan the Miller’s Daughter laughed outright, and Dango, still bound, smiled.
“This Kalazan,” Janel said. “Is he familiar with the castle?”
Tamin’s expression soured. “He was the steward’s son.”
“Ah.”
Tamin scowled and gestured to Dedreugh. “Damn it. Find him and kill him. I’ll not have him live to see the sunrise, do you hear me? And then figure out which idiot made a mess of tying Kalazan’s hands and have him flogged.”
Brother Qown made sure his eyes were on the ground, lest his glance betray him. Only when the soldiers had cleared away the prisoners, and Captain Dedreugh had left to oversee the search, did he let himself look up. Qown stared at the person who had tied Kalazan’s hands.
Mare Dorna hummed a dirty song to herself, smiling.