Berren woke with a start. The last thing he remembered, the last thing that didn’t feel like a dream, was sitting on sodden earth, staring into the flames of a campfire with half an army around him. Now he was alone in a big room, maybe a barn, but the roof was too low, lying on a hard pile of old straw. It was uncomfortable and scratched his skin. The room stank of sweat. When he tried to stand, his legs had no strength. He threw off his blankets and looked to see if he had some injury he didn’t remember, but no. No blood, no bandages.
For a few seconds he couldn’t think where he was. He’d killed a king, or what passed for one anyway. He’d run away and hidden shivering in the rain, getting colder and colder until he could barely feel his skin. Then he’d found the Hawks and their camp, the delicious warmth of their fires, and that was where his memories began to fray.
What came after that were fragments. Marching and marching and feeling tired enough to die. ‘You’ve gone grey,’ someone had said to him. There might have been another battle, but if there was then he didn’t remember any of it. If there was, he was surprised he was still alive, because his arm barely had the strength to lift a sword, never mind wield it. But they must have won because the next things he remembered were more songs and drinking and more delicious fire. At some point he’d crawled away from the rest of them, stolen as many blankets as he could find and found a place to sleep, struggling to be warm.
Everything ached. When he walked to the door and opened it, he cringed at the brightness of the sunlight. He was standing in the yard outside Tethis castle, tents everywhere, surrounded by the sights and sounds of the Fighting Hawks. He sneezed. The winter sun shone through the clouds, warming his skin a little; still, he shivered.
‘Berren!’ Someone was waving at him. ‘Light of the Sun! You were sleeping for the dead!’ Berren squinted. Talon. The Prince of War came over and clapped him on the back. ‘You missed all the fun!’
‘What happened?’ Berren sat down on a log. The ground was cold and soft under his feet from all the rain.
‘You had the shivers.’ Talon smiled and shook his head. ‘Most of the lancers are down with it too. You Deephaveners can’t take a bit of cold and rain, eh? So was it really you who killed Meridian?’
Berren nodded.
‘You ranted something about it but you were all over the place. Stuff about Syannis and Saffran Kuy and a knife. Didn’t make much sense. But we did find Meridian with a bolt through his head.’
‘Kuy?’ Berren shivered. Yes. In Forgenver he’d been set on hunting the warlock. He remembered that. Now. . Now all he wanted to do was to sleep. ‘I don’t know what I said.’ He could barely keep his eyes open. ‘But he was here, wasn’t he?’
‘I’m afraid so. But he’s gone now.’ Talon wore a big happy-cat smile. ‘Aimes took one look at him and threw a fit. I didn’t know he had it in him, but if Syannis hadn’t been there to hold him back, I think Aimes would have ripped him apart with his bare hands.’ He shook his head and laughed again. ‘Aimes wanted his head and I’d have been more than happy to hand it to him too, but Syannis calmed him down until Aimes banished him instead. Syannis blames me, of course. He says Kuy won us the war and we should all be grateful. But he’s gone, either way. No need to go hunting him after all.’
‘Master Sy. . Syannis? He’s alive?’
Talon’s smile stayed where it was. ‘Yes. Meridian kept him in the Pit. They weren’t exactly kind but they didn’t kill him. He’s thinner than he was but he’s not missing any limbs or fingers. After Meridian died in the battle and with us coming on to the castle, no one dared touch him, and in the end they let him out. If Meridian hadn’t been killed then things might have gone differently. Syannis owes you for that.’
‘Yeh.’ He thought of Fasha, of what the thief-taker had promised. ‘Yes, he does. But then I owe him too.’
‘It’s all over now. Radek and Meridian are dead. Tethis is ours. Aimes will be king in name, but now our father’s sons will guide him, not some fat shopkeeper from Kalda.’ His smile faded. ‘Do you still want to go after him? Kuy, I mean. You don’t have to. As long as he’s far away, that’s good enough for me.’
Berren shook his head, quietly happy. ‘If he’s gone, he’s gone.’ If he was gone then Gelisya was free of him and his promise to Fasha was met.
‘I saw him onto the ship myself and then watched until it sailed to make sure he didn’t get off again. Can’t promise he won’t come back one day of course. But if he does then I’ll be waiting for him.’ Talon sat for a while longer and talked about the battle. Meridian’s army had broken before the storm of fire-globes. Hundreds of soldiers and king’s guard had been killed or scattered, but half the army had eventually managed a retreat back to Tethis. The next day, as Talon prepared to assault the castle, they’d found Meridian’s body. The mercenaries had quietly looted the castle and left. Outnumbered ten to one and with no one to tell them what to do, the last of the king’s guard had melted away too. Talon and the Hawks had walked into the castle to find the doors hanging open for them, Syannis with the keys in his hands. ‘The Black Sword cohorts and what’s left of the Panthers are camped a little way outside the city,’ Talon said. ‘They don’t have much interest in fighting. Syannis told me you were going to poison Meridian. Is that true?’
Berren shook his head. ‘I don’t know anything about any poison. I shot him in the back of the head with a crossbow. He owes me for that and so do you. The woman you had me flog. You owe me her.’
‘I suppose we do. Are you going to sell her?’
‘No, I’m going to let her go.’
Talon raised an eyebrow. ‘Really? I’ve seen more of her now. She’s probably worth more than most men would get in half a dozen seasons with the company. A well trained lady’s bonds-maid, one who was trusted to royalty, no less. . Sell her and you could buy yourself a farm or a shop in the city, or a passage back to Aria if that’s what you wanted.’
‘I’m going to set her free. It’s wrong for one man to own another. That’s all that matters. That and that men keep their promises.’ He shuddered. Saffran Kuy’s voice in his head was still as clear as a bell. Kill him! Kill him now! And he’d had no choice. Not a jot.
‘She must have made quite an impression on you.’
‘I hardly know her.’ Berren held his head in his hand. He ached and he still felt terribly weak. ‘Syannis had to give me some reason not to walk away and get on the next ship, and I couldn’t think of anything else, and now I’ll be damned if I’ll let him break his word. Not this time.’
‘Your sword-monk. This is for her, isn’t it?’
Berren didn’t answer. He didn’t know how. Not that the two of them looked much alike, not once you stripped Fasha of her veil and saw her face. But he’d seen them both stand up for what they believed was right with no fear for consequence, one of them a sword-monk, one of them nothing more than a slave. ‘Yeh.’ He laughed at the irony. ‘Probably is, too.’
Talon stood up. ‘People sometimes do very strange things once they get what they want,’ he said. ‘They turn out to be not quite the people they were pretending to be.’ A strained look flashed across his face. ‘Go and tell Tarn you’re fit to fight. King Aimes wants to see you — he’s heard of the fearsome mercenary swordsman who looks like him — but that can wait a few days. We’ve all got plenty to keep us busy and I think it’s time you joined your comrades. The Hawks are letting the taverns of Tethis know they’re here.’
The days that followed were delicious, like his first days with Talon in Kalda but without the doubt and the fear. As soon as his strength was back, he worked for as long as the sun was up; in rain or snow, he didn’t care. They built defences of earth and wood around the castle, preparing for the next summer when the merchant princes of Kalda would surely raise an army to avenge Meridian. In the evenings he drank with men who were now his friends, his sword-brothers, the men who’d stood beside him at the battle on the beach and in the shield wall outside Tethis. They’d seen who he was. They’d spilt blood together. He was the warlock’s boy no more, but the Bloody Judge of the Fighting Hawks who’d crept inside the enemy’s camp and killed their king and put an end to the war. The trouble still writ plain on Talon’s face, shouting loud that all was not said and done, that was no longer Berren’s problem. One thing alone was missing: Fasha. With every day he found himself thinking of her more and more, of their one night in Forgenver together, and what he hoped she might choose when she was free.
The summons came to bring him to the king’s hall. The new king’s guard — mostly Deephaven lancers — took his sword from him as he entered. He walked into what had once been Meridian’s hall, the king he’d killed, and bowed before four thrones. At one end sat Talon, at the other sat Syannis, between them, Gelisya, fidgeting on her chair, and beside her. . Berren simply stared in disbelief. The king. Aimes.
‘Berren of Deephaven, Your Majesty,’ said Talon, loudly.
‘You do look like me,’ said the king happily. ‘I thought you’d be giant or something like that.’
Berren couldn’t answer. He’d never worn bright rich clothes like the ones the king had on. Nor had his hair ever been so long and lustrous. But beneath all that, stripped down to skin and bone, he might have been looking at his own reflection. Except for the eyes, for where Berren’s eyes sparkled, the king’s were dull and dead.
Aimes chattered at Berren and talked like a child, moving from one thing to the next on a whim, hardly seeming to notice whether Berren heard him or not, which was just as well because Berren was too busy staring. Like having a long-lost twin. When he was finished, he waved Berren away. Talon coughed loudly. A scowl crossed Aimes’ face, and the king of Tethis stamped his foot and rolled his eyes. ‘Talli says I’m supposed to give you a present for helping him,’ he said. He looked none too happy about the idea. ‘Is there something you want? As long as it’s not the hawks or the falcons, because I like birds.’
Talon whispered something in the king’s ear. Aimes’ face brightened.
‘You want that?’ He pointed at Fasha, crouched at the foot of Gelisya’s throne.
Gelisya squeaked, ‘My maid? You can’t have my bonds-maid! She’s mine!’
Berren ignored her. He nodded. ‘Yes, Your Majesty.’ An idiot and a child sitting on their thrones? What sense did that make? But that was a question for Tarn, down in a tavern when they were both deep in their cups, not for now.
Aimes beamed. ‘I like you,’ he said. ‘You’re not greedy. I don’t like greedy people. Greedy people aren’t nice. Yes. You can have the woman. Talli, can we have lots of bondsmen now?’
‘Of course.’ Talon peered past Aimes at Berren and mouthed, She’s yours.
Berren murmured some words of thanks but Aimes had already forgotten that he existed and was busy beaming at Talon. ‘Uncle Syannis never lets me have anything.’
Berren bowed and began to back away. A slight whiff of bad fish tickled his nose. He looked around sharply. Kuy? There was no sign of him, but Gelisya caught his eye. A little half-smile flashed across her face, meant only for him.
‘No.’ Syannis rose suddenly. ‘This bondswoman is the property of Princess Gelisya, little brother. She is not yours to give.’ He turned and stared at Berren, and Berren felt a numbness filling his head. He stopped. He felt as though he was suddenly watching from high in the rafters, as though he wasn’t in charge of himself any more but had become a passenger in his own body. He looked very angry, he thought, as he took two quick steps towards the throne. A voice that didn’t sound anything like his own uttered a growl full of rage.
‘You promised her to me!’ He was pointing at Syannis, he realised. Around the room the new king’s guard had their hands on their swords and some even had them half out of their scabbards. But Berren found he didn’t care about that, not one little bit.
‘You promised her to me!’ he said again. ‘I remember your words exactly as you said them. When she’s mine to give, she’s yours. On your knees, you made that promise to me, as payment for Meridian’s death! Well, thief-taker, we failed that night, but I did the deed for you on the battlefield. Now honour our bargain!’
Syannis’s lips curled back to show his teeth. ‘But she is not mine to give you, boy.’
The part of him watching from the rafters saw the change in Gelisya’s face. The smug grin freezing in place, her eyes filling with horror and surprise, her jaw falling slack. She jumped to her feet. ‘You? You did it? You killed him?’ She whipped around to Syannis. ‘I want him dead! Dead! Do you hear me? Dead!’
Syannis shifted awkwardly. ‘Your father fell in battle, Princess. No one can say for sure how he was slain. In honourable combat, no doubt.’
‘He was skulking miles away, filling his face with wine, and he died with a bolt from a crossbow in the back of his head,’ hissed Berren. ‘You tell me if that’s honourable, thief-taker. If you can tell the difference any more.’
Gelisya’s rage turned into an apoplectic fury of hissing, of pointing and screeching. Syannis’s face filled with a cold anger. ‘Help the princess back to her rooms,’ he said. ‘Take the princess’s bonds-maid as well so she might attend to her mistress.’ He pointed to Berren. ‘As for this one, throw him into the Pit. A few days there should calm him down.’
‘Syannis!’ Talon burst to his feet. ‘No! You cannot-’
‘I am regent here, little brother! Now sit down!’
In a flash, before any of the guards could get close, Berren reached for his swords only to remember they weren’t there. Obscenities filled his head, waiting to be flung across the room at Prince Syannis, but his mouth was frozen shut. None of them were adequate. Talon had closed his eyes, head held in his hands. King Aimes simply watched him being dragged towards the door with a look of idiotic amusement on his face. As his own countrymen hauled him away, Berren’s eyes never left Syannis.
‘I killed a king for you!’ he screamed.