Chapter Twenty-Nine
Treachery
L’Roth and Sir Edmund left the castle at the head of thirty men-at-arms, all on horseback. Sir Edmund tried to make conversation, but L’Roth was subdued and moody. He spoke little and grunted often. Sir Edmund soon gave up, and they rode through the forest in silence and at almost walking pace.
Sir Henry had been full of confidence when they left, brimming over with enthusiasm. But L’Roth didn’t find his mood infectious. The news that the artifact would be finished that day brought no joy to him. His only comfort was that it meant that the whole wretched enterprise would soon now be over.
“Has your desire to be King waned, Lord L’Roth?” Sir Edmund asked him, breaking into L’Roth’s moody thoughts.
L’Roth answered his question with another. “Do you believe in fate?”
“Only the fate of my own choosing,” Sir Edmund replied. “And you?”
L’Roth grunted. “I, too share this view. But my mother did not. She feared destiny. She feared the uncertainty of the future. It was that fear that swayed my father from any challenge against the child King.
“My mother would often consult astrologers and other charlatans who all swore that they could foretell the future my mother so often feared.” L’Roth laughed, but it was without humour. “It was all lies and rubbish! They told her that my father would die if he made such a challenge, that he would be punished for standing against the King. They told her that a witch of the night would take him. When I was older, they even told her that I would face the same fate. Only now that she is dead can I attempt what my father never dared while she lived.”
“You do not fear the witch of the night?”
“No, my desire to be King is as strong as ever. But ‘tis the method and the choosing of my allies that ails me.”
Sir Edmund became annoyed at L’Roth’s words. “You think us to be unworthy? Are we beneath you? We are all noblemen of good birth–”
“I meant no insult!” L’Roth snapped, quickly interrupting him. “I have already lost many good men in this affair. Men who stood by me in many battles. Sir William and Lord James were both with me at the siege of Harukstan in Falonbeck. Now they are both dead, slain by Destroyers.” L’Roth grew bitter as he spoke of the Destroyers. “Vixens! I despise them! They are the witches of the night. Like wolves they hunt in packs and prey on the weak.”
“Sir William and Lord James were not weak. Nor was Eric, Sir Morgan’s younger cousin. He and the others who fell had all fought in battles on the borders with Falonbeck. Maybe their deeds were lesser than those you speak of, but they were no less brave, nor less honourable. And to fall to the swords of Destroyers is no disgrace. Are they not our oldest foe? Do they not still fight the war of our ancestors?”
L’Roth grunted once more, but didn’t reply. It seemed to annoy Sir Edmund even more.
“What is it that ails you, L’Roth? Speak!” he demanded.
“Gil-Yan!” L’Roth spat out the name.
“She obeys Sir Henry! You saw her obedience last night!”
“I saw her appetite!”
“If you fear her, if you think she is the witch of the night your mother’s soothsayers spoke of, then when you are King have her put to death and be done with it!”
“When I am King? Ha!” L’Roth drew up his horse, halting their progress, and glared at Sir Edmund. “Do you think I am a fool? Sir Henry thinks so! He plays the buffoon, but I know his wit and his plans! The obedience of that bitch from Hell he takes to his bed-chamber is limited to him alone, and it will be him she acts for when she feasts on all our blood! And don’t think you or Sir Morgan will be safe! And when all are dead, who then will be King? How many must she eat before Sir Henry can lay rightful claim?”
There was an unpleasant silence as the two men faced one another. Behind them, the men-at-arms watched and waited on their horses. Sir Edmund was keenly aware that L’Roth was resting his hand on his sword, and his expression was grim. He chose his words carefully.
“Do you accuse me of making a pact with Sir Henry? A pact that would see him on the throne in your place?”
“We have all made pacts, Sir Edmund. And none of us are proud of them. But now I find myself alone, without men I once trusted with my life. And the outcome of this enterprise has always been uncertain. If Sir Henry plans to kill one King, why then should he balk at killing another? Who now can I trust?”
“Trust me,” Sir Edmund said with determination. “I have no love for Sir Henry, nor for the Destroyer he beds. And I care nought for the King and his two sons. I am in this enterprise only for gain. If you pay me handsomely when you are King, then I will serve you well, now and then. This pact you can trust, because it is a pact made with gold.”
“You speak plainly. But who speaks for the men we lead?”
“These men follow me. They wear my livery and they came from my estates.”
“But do they follow the King, Sir Henry, or you?”
Sir Edmund turned on his horse and galloped along the line of men-at-arms, shouting at them.
“I stand for Lord William L’Roth! Will you stand with us? Speak out! Speak out!”
All the men raised their pikes and shouted as one, “Aye!”
Sir Edmund turned his horse and galloped back to L’Roth. “What say you, Lord L’Roth? Is the pact made?”
L’Roth nodded. “You shall have your gold, and your men too. But not ‘till Gil-Yan and Sir Henry are both slain.”
Sir Edmund cared little for the condition L’Roth imposed. “Sir Henry only uses his knife to eat with,” he said with derision. “And Gil-Yan is weak and slight. I have seen her in the West Tower. I could snap her neck in an instant. If indeed she is your witch of the night, then fear her no more. When the artifact is complete, consider her neck snapped.”
“Gil-Yan is not the waif you saw in the tower. But you are right, she is her weak spot. Kill her and the beast dies. But when you act, be sure to kill her before Sir Henry.”
“He will take nought but one breath after her.”
“And Sir Morgan?”
“His path is his to choose. He is either for us or against us. If he chooses Sir Henry, then he will face the same fate.”
“Then the pact between us is made. Stir you men, Sir Edmund, our quarry awaits!”
L‘Roth urged his horse forward. Sir Edmund quickly did the same, waving at his men to follow. They cheered and galloped after the two Knights, and they now rode through the forest with speed and vigour.