The Born Queen - J. Gregory Keyes [159]
And that evening, Henne, Sir Symen’s tracker, turned up with bad news.
“The churchmen are boxing you in,” he said. “Don’t know how. It’s like they know where you’re going.”
“Where are they exactly?” Aspar asked him.
Henne sketched a map on the ground, and when he was done, Aspar cursed Grim and ground his teeth.
I reckon Fend was telling the truth about this at least.
Because it looked like they were going to need some help.
The knight woke when Aspar’s dirk pricked his neck. To his credit, he didn’t scream or wet himself; in fact, he hardly flinched. His eyes registered first shock, then chagrin, and finally, as he understood he wasn’t dead already, curiosity.
“That’s a good man,” Aspar whispered.
“You must be Holter White.”
“Ah, I’m famous,” Aspar replied. “But I’ve not your name in my word horde.”
“That would be Roger Harriot. Sir Roger Harriot.”
“Virgenyan?”
“Yes, from St. Clement Danes.”
“But you’re not just on your way home.”
“Regrettably, no. I have several tasks to accomplish, and none involves returning to my home.”
“And these tasks?”
“Well, one would be to bring to heel a certain renegade holter, should I run across him.”
“By whose order?”
“The Fratrex Prismo of the holy Church.”
“And for what reason?”
Sir Roger seemed to wonder how to answer that for a moment. “There are many I could give,” he finally replied. “But I’ve heard a lot about you, and I think I’ll tell you the truth. My primary task isn’t to find you; it’s to find the valley where you first discovered the Briar King. I’m to go there and hold it against all invaders until Niro Marco sends word.”
“Why?”
“I don’t rightly know. I don’t care. But as you seem to be going there, I thought I would best discharge my mission by stopping you here in the foothills.”
“How do you even know where you’re going?”
“You made a report to the praifec of Crotheny, and he dispatched scouts to find the place. It’s on our maps now.”
Hespero, Aspar thought darkly.
“Well,” Aspar said, “I reckon you ought to turn back.”
“Why? Because you’ve got a knife to my throat? Everything I know about you says you won’t kill me.”
“You don’t know everything, though, do you?” Aspar asked.
“Well, we all have our secrets.”
His eyes shifted the barest bit, and Aspar suddenly found himself airborne, then pinned by two fantastically strong monks.
Stupid, he thought. Was it the geos making him an idiot or just old age?
It didn’t matter now. Had they caught Leshya, too?
“Are you here alone, holter?” the knight asked, answering that question.
“Yah.”
“Well, I’ll try to have someone keep you company, at least until we’ve detained your friends. Do you think they will fight? It would be foolish.”
“They might not,” Aspar said. “Take me there. I’ll talk them out of it.”
Harriot shrugged. “It doesn’t make that much difference to me. Anyway, my men have already started closing. I expect this to be over before sunrise.”
Aspar relaxed his muscles and sighed, then put everything he had into breaking loose from the monks.
It was like trying to snap iron bands.
“You’ve no chance, holter,” Harriot said.
“You have to let me go,” Aspar said. “You’ve no idea what you’re doing. You said it yourself. Unless I get to that valley, everything will die.”
“That’s very dramatic,” Sir Roger replied. “In fact, the Fratrex Prismo makes similar claims about what will happen if you do reach the valley. Imagine who I believe. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to oversee this. I promise you, I will spare whoever I can.”
“Harm any of them and I’ll send you straight to Grim,” Aspar said.
“Grim? How quaint. A mountain heretic.”
“I’m serious,” Aspar said. “I’ll kill you.”
“Well that is as may be,” the knight replied. “I’ll trust you to think about the method.”
They tied him up and put him under guard, leaving him to continue contemplating his mistake. He knew that there were monks who could hear a butterfly’s wing against the breeze; Stephen had been one such. But when he’d been able to slip into camp, apparently unnoticed, he’d reckoned