The Born Queen - J. Gregory Keyes [182]
“I wanted to see you.”
“And I wanted to see you, lad. But you lost honor doing so. You understand?”
“Yes, Fah. But that’s hard, isn’t it? How do you know what you ought to do?”
“You have to know yourself,” his father said. “And you have to listen to your own true voice. Now, go get your spear, and I’ll show you the proper way to hold it.”
That had been long years ago, and not long after that he’d first used that spear. He’d broken it two winters later. It was years after, when his father was dead and he was with Sir Fail, that he learned the sword and shield and lance, wore lord’s plate, and took on the trappings of a knight and the code of honor that went with it.
Alis was up talking to Berimund, whose men waited in silent formation, facing the gate. Neil went to join them.
“Excuse me, Prince,” he said. “I was wondering if you had a spear or two I might borrow from you.”
“You may have mine,” the prince replied. “And a spare if you want it.”
“Thank you,” Neil replied. Berimund fetched the weapons: good, well-balanced man killers.
“Sir Neil,” Berimund said as he examined the weapons. “We’ve reports of a force gathering up the road, about twice our number.”
“Do you know why?”
“No, but I can guess that a messenger from Hansa has finally spread the news that my father has called for my head.”
“We need only hold them for the space of another bell, at most,” Alis said.
Berimund closed his eyes, perhaps listening to the music, perhaps to something in his own skull.
“No,” he said. “We needn’t hold them at all.”
“What do you mean?” Neil asked.
“I won’t let them come at me as they like,” the prince said. “My wulfbrothars and I will go and meet them where they’re gathering. Even if we lose, they’ll have no reason to come here directly.”
“They might, in search of Brinna.”
“My men have spread the rumor that we put her on a ship at Saestath. Even if some doubt that, it will take time for them to be certain all of us are defeated; they wouldn’t leave us at their backs.” He grinned. “Or maybe they will choose their prince over their king. I was well received here until now.”
“I can’t go with you,” Neil said.
“Of course not. I’ll leave two men outside the gate, but you stay here. What is that knife you people carry—the little one, the blade of last resort?”
“The echein doif.”
“Jah. You will be the echein doif, Sir Neil.”
Neil watched them mount and ride through the gate. Then he stripped off the hauberk and laid it on the ground, flexing his shoulders under the light padded gambeson. He unbuckled his sword belt and carefully put the weapon next to the armor.
The night deepened, and behind him the music darkened and lightened weirdly, like the sun coming in and out of the clouds.
“There,” Alis said.
Neil nodded, for he saw the shadows, too, padding through the gate on foot. Robert’s guards hadn’t made a sound.
“Remember our toast,” Alis said.
“I remember,” Neil replied.
Stephen was struck by a sudden impulse simply to close his eyes and sleep, and he almost laughed. Hespero didn’t know who he was dealing with.
“Again,” he said. “Nice try.”
“We could be allies,” Hespero said. “We could stop her together.”
“I agree,” Stephen replied, fending off another stab of Hespero’s will. “Individually, neither of us has a chance against her, and we both know what that means. Surrender your gifts to me, and I’ll stop her.”
“We could work together.”
“You’re trying to kill me even now.” Stephen laughed. “It’s impossible. One of us would inherit from her, and the other would perish.”
“Brother Stephen, I am your Fratrex