The Bastard, page 18
And then I realized what had happened. Rolf and his crossbowmen were just a diversion. As soon as the merchant’s location had been confirmed, one of Rolf’s men had crept along the road and forced his way into the carriage.
Even now, I imagined the merchant sitting there, all dressed up in fine clothing, with the point of a dagger lining up against his jaw.
And I understood how close I’d come to being seen. If Rolf’s hidden assassin had chosen to move along my side of the road…
I breathed a huge sigh of relief and continued to watch.
The lead guard knew he was beaten. His shoulders were slumped, and he no longer sat with the same look of intensity about him. He returned to the carriage window and received new orders, just as Rolf had said.
All I could do was watch, wait, and hope for the best. But with each passing second, my hope started to fade. Somewhere, my plan had gone wrong. There was nothing I could do except watch as the guard returned with a coin pouch and flung it at Rolf’s feet.
“Twenty gold,” he said. And despite his master’s capitulation, I still heard the contempt in the guard’s words. This was a man who didn’t like to lose, up against a man who would do anything to win.
Rolf ignored the coin pouch at his feet as if it didn’t exist. “I don’t like your tone,” he said. “And twenty gold was the price for immediate compliance. Which you didn’t do. The price has gone up. Twenty more.”
I could feel the tension soar once again. The lead guard stared at Rolf with an incredulous expression.
“You have what you asked for–” he began, but Rolf cut him off.
“And now I’m asking for more.”
The guard had no choice, and he knew it. Rolf’s man was still inside the merchant’s carriage, awaiting orders.
In the end, the guard did the only thing he could. He turned his horse about once more and headed to the rear of the caravan.
And then, finally, I heard the sound I’d been waiting for since the whole episode had begun.
Horses.
Hidden by the gloom of the evening, their hooves muffled against the mud of the road, they appeared from both directions at once, coming up behind Rolf and the caravan as well.
The lead horseman was a large, imposing man who had once been more. But now his thick frame was running to fat, his hair was thinning and gray, and he wore a sour expression as if he was suffering from permanent toothache.
Yet still, he was the second most powerful man in the city.
Sir Lancelot glared down at Rolf and bellowed, “What in all the seven Hells is going on here?”
From my hiding place among the bushes, I stifled a laugh.
41
All my anxiety and growing disappointment vanished, to be replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief mixed with hope. I found it hard to stay still and was grinning like a loon.
It wasn’t over yet, but my plan had worked. I’d managed to get Rolf and Lancelot together at just the right time, in just the right way.
Not even Rolf could withstand the glare of Sir Lancelot. The Blackcoat seemed more than taken aback. He was shocked.
And before my enemy could find his tongue, to my utter delight, the merchant’s lead guard filled the silence with words that were music to my soul.
“This false Blackcoat and his men are bandits! They threatened our lives to extort coin from my master, who is even now under threat in his carriage.”
Lancelot turned his baleful gaze back to Rolf. “Is this true?” he demanded.
Rolf was many things. A villain through and through, a greedy, slimy, treacherous bastard. He was dangerous in so many ways and acted without hesitation or mercy.
I’d seldom seen him at a loss for words, but that’s exactly what was happening.
But it didn’t last for long, though. It took only moments for his jaw to snap shut, and the cunning to reappear in his eyes.
“Of course not!” he said. “You know my role, Sir Lancelot, better than any other. You know what I am tasked to do. This is just part of my job!”
At Rolf’s words, my heart began to sink. It seemed Lancelot was in on the game.
Lancelot sat back on his horse as if considering Rolf’s words.
“While it is true that you are mandated by the King to commit acts like this,” he drawled. “In this case, I do not believe that’s what you are doing. You see, this merchant you have waylaid isn’t bringing in his goods for just anyone. He is bringing it directly to the castle itself.”
The old warrior paused to let his words sink in, then delivered his coup de grace. “You are waylaying the man responsible for delivering the King’s own supply of cocoa.”
It was a stunning revelation that Rolf hadn’t seen coming. But I’d known about it all along. It was one of the first things Ember had told me.
It was beautiful to see. Rolf’s defense evaporated, leaving him with nowhere to turn. He simply gaped for a moment, and that was enough for Lancelot.
The old knight grinned an ugly grin. “Arrest these men!” he said, and it was done.
Rolf tried to struggle, tried to resist, and was soundly thumped on the head for his troubles. In the end, there was nothing he could do. He was outnumbered, and his crossbow men had already been taken out of the action.
As it unfolded in front of my eyes, I felt like crying in triumph. It had worked!
Rolf was being arrested. He would be thrown in jail. And, as I knew from my own experience, for crimes against the King’s property, there was only one outcome.
No need for a trial. Rolf’s guilt was as certain as mine had been, so the punishment would be as well.
Hanging, until he was dead.
I watched as Lancelot and his men efficiently stripped Rolf and his men of their weapons, bound them, and made ready to walk them back through the streets to the jail.
The only sour note was when Lancelot himself dismounted and spoke directly to Rolf. I couldn’t hear the words, but the body language was clear. Lancelot was gloating, just as I felt like doing, with Rolf having little option but to take it and sneer.
Then Sir Lancelot bent and picked up the coin pouch from where it landed on the ground. He hefted it, and with no obvious intent to return it to the guard, tucked it away.
Then he turned to the Graycoats, who were still standing around, unsure what to do.
“Be on your way,” Sir Lancelot said. “The King himself is waiting for your arrival. I’d make haste, if I were you.” The old knight turned to the man with the crossbow bolt embedded in his shoulder. “I wouldn’t normally offer this to outsiders such as yourself, but I’m feeling in a generous mood. The Blackcoats have a surgeon on standby. He’s a good man. You would have even odds of surviving that wound under his care. Tell him I sent you.”
And that was that. Lancelot and his men departed with Rolf and his men in tow, with the caravan following close behind. I watched until all of them had disappeared into the town, then finally let myself relax.
I threw myself onto my back, unintentionally dislodging Sir George from his spot on my shoulder, and shouted in wordless joy. I didn’t even mind how damp the ground was, or the way the drizzle wet my face.
I had done it!
Not that Sir George cared. He made a clicking noise of discontent and tried to find a comfortable spot.
All that was left was to make sure that Rolf knew it was me, and then watch him swing.
42
I was in the mood to celebrate. Ideally, I would do so in the arms of Meghan le Fay, but it was too late to start the journey to her place. So instead, with her enchantment wearing off and my normal face on display, I went back to the Twin Barrels alehouse and got roundly drunk, and took Rosylin and Maise to bed.
I woke up with a mild headache, surrounded by soft, female flesh. I felt truly at peace for the first time in weeks. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and I liked it.
But even so, the job wasn’t quite done. I got dressed quietly so as not to disturb the girls, putting on my stolen black coat.
Sir George didn’t care that I was wearing a Blackcoat’s clothing. He just watched me from his position at the foot of the bed with his luminous green eyes, then launched himself to his usual spot on my shoulder and settled himself down.
I took out the small vial of enchanted liquid and studied what was left. There were only a few drops remaining. I could only hope they would be enough, and for the third time, I brought the vial to my lips.
Once more, I felt myself change, and only when the transformation was complete did I leave the room and head down to the jail.
It had been long weeks since I had last been anywhere near this godawful place. The jail wasn’t a building. Not exactly. The land the King’s castle had been built upon was made up of a network of interconnecting caves. It was a labyrinth, the bulk of which had been explored many decades before and turned into a network of storage rooms, passageways, dungeons, and more.
The jail wasn’t part of that system. It wasn’t directly under the castle. But it was nearby, a second, smaller network of caverns that had been put to good use.
The Blackcoats were garrisoned in the buildings above, with the jail directly beneath them.
I girded myself, aware I was taking a risk with so many Blackcoats about. But this was part of my plan, so I gritted my teeth and wandered in as if I had a right to be there.
Nobody paid me the slightest attention. But as I wandered past the cage-fronted caves, Sir George stirred on my shoulder.
“You recognize this place, do you?” I asked him quietly. “This is where I met you.”
And he did seem to recognize it, showing more interest than usual. Maybe it was the stench of old sweat, sewage, and death. Maybe it was the noises, the moans of despair, the quiet talking, the occasional curse.
Or maybe it was just the feeling of oppression and hopelessness that seemed to seep from the walls.
Either way, I recognized it as well, and didn’t enjoy being there one bit. But that didn’t mean I intended to leave. I still had a job to do, and I meant to see it through.
So I forced myself to look into every cell, searching for my foe, my eyes sweeping over the misery and gloom as I tried not to remember my own time in this place.
The cells weren’t as full as they had been when I had seen them from the other side of the bars. There had been a hanging day fairly recently, so another one wasn’t yet due for several days. Which meant Rolf would have some time to get used to his incarceration.
I kept looking. The prison was extensive, as was the crime in Camelot. There were nearly a hundred men in various cells, either serving their time or awaiting a worse fate. Some of them would leave this place when their sentence was done, thinner, maybe suffering from some sort of disease, but essentially whole.
Others would leave minus a hand.
And still others would leave only to find themselves on the gallows, awaiting a drop.
Of course, there were those who would never see daylight again. Those who had no release date to look forward to, or those who simply gave up and died.
But I didn’t expect Rolf to be one of those. Not him. He was too strong, too much a survivor.
I expected him to live right up until the executioner let him drop.
I had walked maybe halfway along the jail when I saw him. He was in one of the smaller cells, which he had almost to himself. When I first spied him, he was hunkered down against the far wall.
He no longer wore his black coat. It had been taken from him, leaving him in just his breeches and tunic.
He looked cold, and that was enough to bring my grin back in full force.
I stopped outside of the bars and studied him for a moment. He seemed a picture of misery, but where I had been largely despondent after my initial ravings, he seemed to be full of rage.
“Ahem,” I said, clearing my throat.
Rolf didn’t hear me. Either that, or he was ignoring me.
“Rolf,” I said, just loudly enough that he would be able to hear me, but not loud enough to attract any undue attention. There were risks with even visiting the man, although I had come prepared for that as well.
“Rolf!” I said again.
Finally, the treacherous Blackcoat looked up and stared at me for some moments. At first, it seemed he didn’t know who I was. Then he lurched to his feet, looking as if he was unsure whether to be surprised or confused.
He stepped toward the bars with greater hesitancy in his movements than I’d ever seen from him before, and stared at me closely, still not understanding.
“You’re the man,” he said finally. “The one who told me the caravan’s route.”
I grinned at him. “That’s right.”
He glanced down at what I was wearing. “You’re a Blackcoat?” he asked slowly.
I knew what he was thinking. Had Lancelot set a trap? Was that why he’d been caught?
I decided I didn’t care to correct him. Not yet, anyway. I just breathed deeply, relishing in his confusion and defeat, and then I grinned again.
Rolf gripped the bars in his hands, and his expression darkened. “You think you’ve beaten me?” he grated. “You think even the great Sir Lancelot can keep me in here? Well, he can’t! And when I get out, you can tell him from me, that I’m coming for him!”
It was almost too much. I leaned back from Rolf and laughed. For long moments, I let it all out, let him bathe in my glee.
It was more than he could take. He shook the bars as if it would do some kind of good, and let out a noise of frustration.
Finally, I was done laughing.
“I just wanted to see you one final time,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “Before they stretch your neck for you. I wanted to see for myself that you were caught, and that there was nothing more you could do.” I paused for a moment, then let my face turn into a snarl of justified rage. “You put me in one of these cages once, not so very long ago. I survived my hanging, but the chance of you doing the same is next to nonexistent. I look forward to seeing you on the day. I will watch you swing.”
I felt vicious as I spoke to him, and victorious. Rolf, who had once pretended to be my friend, was in truth my rival, my nemesis. It felt good to tell him how I felt about what he had done.
Rolf stared at me in confusion.
“Who are you?” he asked.
I barked another laugh right in his face and wondered whether to tell him. At the same time, I felt that Meghan’s enchantment might not give me the choice. It wasn’t as strong this time around. I’d only swallowed a couple of drops.
Even now, I could feel its grip starting to fade.
I could have made my escape but decided to gloat instead.
“I was once your friend,” I said. “Or at least, I thought I was. I did jobs for you when there were things you or your men couldn’t handle by yourself.” I paused to enjoy his ongoing confusion and grinned at him once again. “I was there the last time one of your jobs didn’t go as planned. The last time you got too greedy for your own good, and accidentally went against your own king. Just like this time. But last time, you managed to pin it all on me.”
He was still confused. “What do you mean? I don’t even know you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I said. I could feel Meghan’s enchantment losing its hold. Perhaps it would last another minute, maybe a little less, but very soon, Rolf would be able to see me as I was.
I was going to let him. “You were right, when you came to me as I waited to be hanged. I wasn’t cut out for the life I was leading. I was too trusting, too willing to follow.” Then I hardened my voice. “In a way, I should thank you. You opened my eyes. And now, perhaps you would see me in a different light.”
I knew Rolf was caught. Knew he was just a few days away from the hangman’s noose, but I still wanted to kill him. I wanted to reach through the bars and strangle him where he stood, even though he was the stronger of us.
I just wanted him dead.
“Mordie?” Rolf asked.
As if the gods had seen fit to align things just right, I felt the last of Meghan’s enchantment disappear. Rolf drew a surprised gulp of breath while I enjoyed my victory.
“That’s right,” I said. “Mordie. And now you get to be the one who walks out to the gallows with your hands bound before you. You get to be the one to feel the rope around your neck and the trapdoor disappearing from under your feet.”
Rolf gaped at me as he’d gaped at Sir Lancelot when the old knight had turned up so unexpectedly.
“And I get to watch,” I finished.
Rolf snarled and made a grab for me through the bars.
But I’d anticipated his move and stepped back. He gnashed his teeth and shook the bars again.
“You won’t get away with this!” he grated. “I will get out of here, you just see if I don’t! And when I do, it won’t be Sir Lancelot on the top of my list. It will be you!” he said.
I’d heard enough. I laughed at him once again, then turned to go, listening to the sounds of Rolf’s rage as I went.
Before I made it out of earshot, however, he offered one last dig. “Mordie the Bastard, I will find out how you did this! You son of a whore, you useless prick!”
Although I was tempted to turn and listen, I was out of time. And out of patience. The lying son of a bitch didn’t deserve my attention anymore. We were done. I was free of him, or I would be as soon as he hanged.
Seeing his words had no effect on me, Rolf called out in a loud, booming voice. “Guards! Guards! Stop him! He is not a Blackcoat! He is a thief and a liar!”
I’d thought Rolf might try something like that. I just kept moving along, pretending that all was well, and that let me get maybe halfway to freedom before the real Blackcoats started to gather.
I had just one of Meghan’s wooden discs left. I waited until the right moment and broke it in two.
Then it was a simple matter of making my way past Blackcoats who were temporarily blinded, and back out into the day.
