From Darkness Won - Jill Williamson [145]
“Kurtz has a tendency to disregard rules. It’s the primary reason he was never knighted.” Sir Gavin sniffed in a long, thoughtful breath. “I feel I owe you all an explanation about Kurtz Chazir.” He turned to Achan, wincing as if remembering something painful. “If you would like to know why I put up with him, Your Highness.”
What did that mean? “Of course.”
“My mother had a baby sister she cared for along with me. That girl—my aunt—was named Melena. She was but four years old when my mother died. I was eleven. Melena was like a sister to me. When she grew up, she wanted her own family more than anything. Went through men like a loaf of bread. Miscarried six times that I know of. I didn’t know what to do with the woman.
“When I was promoted to the Kingsguard, she ran off with a trader from Berland. I didn’t hear from her for almost twenty years. Then one day I got a message from her husband—a Berland soldier. She had died in childbirth, and her husband said she’d wanted me to know her son.
“Kurtz is her son?”
“Aye. I visited him over the years. He only ever wanted to be a soldier like his father. Grew up in the barracks like I did. Had no woman around to teach him manners or compassion. All that to say, if he wasn’t my cousin, I’d have discharged him long ago.”
Achan couldn’t help but think if it weren’t for Gren, he might have turned out the same as Kurtz.
“It’s just that he thinks himself invincible,” Sir Caleb said. “That his actions have no consequences.”
“Probably my fault as well for cleaning up so many of his messes. Likely he expects I will again.” Sir Gavin pounded a fist on the table. “But not this time.”
“What shall we do with the women?” Sir Caleb asked. “They’re nothing but a distraction to our men. They must be sent back.”
“Not without an escort,” Toros said. “And they know too much about us, enough to hurt us if they wanted to. The prince, especially.”
“Hurt me how?” Achan asked.
Sir Gavin’s mustache twitched. “Do not fret. I see no way for the women to do you harm.”
“It was only a kiss,” Sir Caleb said to everyone at the table, as if clarifying a highly disputed fact. “If any of the men ask, make that clear.”
Achan stared at a knot in the wood of the table, wanting to change the subject. Wanting to sleep a very long time.
“A kiss and a scratch,” Captain Demry said with a wink. “Your boy is bragging about how his master was attacked by a chatul cat and has the wound to prove it.”
The men laughed.
Pig snout. Now Achan would have to speak to Matthias. Come to think of it, he should speak with Cole as well, for the lad spent far too much time in Kurtz’s company. Achan tapped his finger on the tabletop. What to do about Kurtz?
“Enough talk of this,” Sir Gavin said. “So the women will come along? What do you suggest, Toros?”
Toros leaned back in his chair, revealing the embroidered interlocking red circles on the front of his dingy white surcoat. “Choose a guard of trusted, honorable men, and put the women to work. Laundry, mending, cooking. Perhaps some can make arrows. Reformation at its best.”
“That will not make Challa happy,” Achan said.
“We do not exist to make Challa happy, Your Highness, nor do you.”
Her happiness hadn’t been Achan’s concern. “I simply meant that she will likely be difficult.”
Captain Demry scanned the table, his brow furrowed into a thick line. “What is our next move then? Have the scouts reported anything?”
“We ride south as fast as we can,” Sir Gavin said. “Esek’s southern army has almost reached Armonguard. With Prince Oren missing, I don’t doubt it will fall.”
A silence gripped the tent. If Armonguard fell before Achan and his army reached it, it would be all the more difficult to take it back.
“But tonight we celebrate,” Sir Gavin said. “We lost many today. Our men deserve to hear from us both.” He sent a pointed look at Achan. “So, Captain Demry, select a trusted guard for the women. Sir Caleb, figure out how