my voice building, “however much the merciless enemy throng about us. And when they shoot us down with their barbed arrows, we will sing our heroic defiance and the light of our beacon will shine in the blood that pours from us. However horribly they pierce our bowels with their spears, however savagely they mutilate us with their axes, we will die knowing that we fell with honor. Passersby will look at our corpses as they steam amongst the burning coal wagons from Seaholme, and they will know that we bore the torch of valor. And though the world will say we died in vain, that our arrow-riddled bodies mean nothing to the vast and brutal enemy that must eventually vanquish us all, we will know differently.”
There was a long silence. I waited.
It was—somewhat unexpectedly—Garnet who picked up the gist of the thought and took the next logical step.
“But . . .” He faltered. “Don’t you think? . . . ”
“Garnet?” said Lisha.
“Oh, I don’t know,” he sighed, unsure of how much to say. “I mean, honor is great and all, but . . . It just seems sort of futile to me. I mean, Will’s right about the valor and everything, but . . . well, how the hell can we defend ten wagons of coal from a hundred trained soldiers?”
“We will have an armed escort—” began Renthrette, but he cut her off.
“I know that, but what is to say they won’t just hit us with more men still? They always win, you know? They’ve never been beaten yet, did you notice? Our predecessors were valiant, weren’t they? It didn’t protect them. I mean, if the valor doesn’t produce results, what’s the point?”
There was a long silence. I looked at the floor. His sister just stared at him.
“I don’t know,” he said with a gesture of his pale hands. “It just seems sort of hopeless. We have nothing to go on and we could find a hundred soldiers waiting for us as soon as we leave the castle. I say we go back to Stavis.”
Another long silence followed, cold and sharp as the ax on the table before us.
“No,” said Lisha gently but with enough conviction to show that there would be no further debate of the matter. “Not yet, at least. I appreciate you speaking your mind so frankly, Garnet, but we can’t say it is hopeless until we have begun our investigations. I suggest that we start with a journey to Seaholme. All of us.”
Garnet fell silent, frowned, and then nodded, looking suddenly young.
So this was where the party leader pulled rank on us, I thought, as everyone made for the door and bed. The others seemed content, so I couldn’t even complain that the decision wasn’t democratic. I didn’t know what to do or say. Even if I had wanted to go back to Stavis I wouldn’t dare attempt that journey alone, and Garnet would always jump back into line when Lisha cracked her whip. For the moment I was stuck with them.
As I turned to go, Lisha caught my eye and smiled, a smile that was small and cool.
“Bravo, Will,” she said, “a fine performance. And clever.”
“What? What do you mean?” I stammered, but she was already leaving the room.
I slept poorly that night, partly because of my long rest in the wagon but also because my mind wouldn’t stop turning the day’s events over and over. Moreover, I was afraid. A touch of bluish moonlight glowed through my barred window, giving an icy hue to the castle’s cold, grey stone. I lay there still and quiet, trying not to think of dukes and counts and the business we had undertaken, or those who had been hired to do the job before and now lay in shallow graves by the roads where the wagons had burned.
SCENE XXI
Stories
Over breakfast, Lisha assigned tasks. Mithos was to speak with Arlest about the logistics of our trip to Seaholme and the coal that would await us.
“Have you decided on a route yet?” he asked.
“The most direct route is also the most inconspicuous,” Lisha answered. “We’ll go under the southernmost tip of the Iruni Wood. If the count asks, say we haven’t decided yet but we will probably take the Hopetown road.”
Mithos accepted the point without comment. I think that I was the only one who was surprised at her lack of faith in our employer. Lisha turned to the rest of us, saying, “Renthrette and Garnet. We need horses