Traitor's Blade

*

 

There were forty of them, all in armour and all on horseback. I counted eight with crossbows and short-swords at their sides and the rest armed with war-swords and lances. They were arrayed in four rows, and between the third and forth was an elaborate carriage led by four horses and carrying the banner of Orison.

 

A man stepped out of the carriage. He was slightly taller than me and well groomed, with short dark hair and a well-trimmed beard in the military style. He wore a dark blue jerkin and matching trousers with high black boots; a short cloak was slung around his shoulders. The rapier at his side marked him as a duellist and the crest on his right breast revealed him to be Perault, Duke of Orison.

 

‘Valiana, sweet cousin,’ he said advancing to our party. ‘I understood that you would be coming to visit me in Orison. Why have you chosen to spurn my company without so much as sending a messenger to inform me?’

 

Valiana curtsied. ‘Forgive me, your Grace. I— My servant Trin must have forgotten to send word. She can be absent-minded sometimes.’

 

Duke Perault smiled. ‘Really? I’ve always found her exceptionally diligent.’

 

‘Your Grace? I hadn’t realised you had met …’

 

Perault peered over at Aline, who was peeking out from Valiana’s carriage. ‘And who is this sweet child? Come, dear, let me have a look at you.’

 

‘The girl is ill, my Lord,’ Valiana said. ‘I wouldn’t want you to catch something from her.’

 

The Duke gave a look of genuine concern. ‘Oh my, what might I catch?’

 

‘Fire,’ Brasti muttered behind me, ‘if past is any prediction.’

 

‘Shut your mouth,’ Feltock told him.

 

‘Regardless, my Lord,’ Valiana went on, ‘I am bound straight for my mother’s home in Hervor and cannot delay my return with a trip to Orison, as delightful as that would no doubt be.’

 

The Duke smiled again. ‘It would no doubt be very delightful for me, cousin.’

 

Something wasn’t right. Perault was far too confident, pushing his luck with the woman who was soon to be his Queen.

 

Feltock turned to me. ‘Think you can do to one of these armoured buggers what you did to my axeman back at the market? Get through those plates?’

 

‘Maybe,’ I said.

 

‘Think you can do it forty times, nice and fast?’

 

‘Probably not.’

 

He sighed. ‘That’s what I thought.’

 

Valiana was raising her voice now. ‘I am the sovereign daughter of Patriana, Duchess of Hervor, and you might as well find out now as later that I am also the daughter of Jillard, Duke of Rijou. I am the Princess Royal, and soon to take the throne. You will not impede my journey home, your Grace.’

 

The Duke had started laughing halfway through her speech and was still laughing now. ‘You are a foolish little girl, neither Princess nor Queen, nor in truth even a Duchess, and the only thing you are going to be put upon is my knee, so that I may give your bottom a good slap, which will be fine preparation for the other activities I have planned.’

 

Perault’s voice was beyond arrogant, almost theatrical – as if he were performing for an audience. Someone has betrayed Valiana. I looked around, at Feltock, at his men, even at Kest for a moment, and then—

 

Trin. Trin wasn’t here. She’d stayed in the carriage. I looked towards the carriage and saw her sitting inside, the sun’s light shining in. She was smiling. But why? If she’d betrayed Valiana, did she expect protection? A reward? Once Perault had what he wanted, why should he honour any agreement he’d made with a servant?

 

‘How dare you speak to me this way?’ Valiana said. ‘When my mother hears of this she will—’

 

‘Applaud,’ a voice said. It wasn’t very loud, but it was clear as cold water and the sound froze my soul. I had hoped never again to hear this voice. It was brilliant and bold, and everything I hated in this world was carried in its tone.

 

Patriana, Duchess of Hervor, stepped carefully out of the Duke’s carriage.

 

It was all I could do to hang onto Monster, whose angry jaw opened so wide you could count all the sharpened teeth in her mouth.

 

‘If you attack now, we’ll all die. The girl will die,’ I whispered fiercely in her ear.

 

‘Ah,’ Patriana said, unperturbed, ‘I see you’ve brought my other property with you as well. Nicely done, Falcio. I told you that you’d make a wonderful servant. I am glad you seek to prove me right.’

 

I looked at Kest and I looked at Brasti, and I knew that what I saw on their faces mirrored what was on mine.

 

‘Mother?’ Valiana asked, her own voice weak and uneven.

 

‘I must thank you, girl. You’ve played your part as well as I could have hoped. But now the dream is over, and I shall require the scrolls that Duke Jillard gave you.’

 

‘But these are mine – they confirm my lineage and rights of royal blood!’

 

Duke Perault was laughing again. ‘She still doesn’t understand, Patriana. She thinks she’s the Princess Valiana. What a little treasure!’

 

Oh hells. Suddenly I was back in Rijou, in that cell, and Patriana was laughing and bragging about her expertise in creating the creatures she needed. When I told her she had failed to make a monster out of her daughter she’d said, ‘My daughter? Oh, my daughter is much more dangerous than I am. I dare say she is my finest accomplishment!’

 

‘Ah,’ said the Duchess. ‘Well then, perhaps I should ease everyone’s confusion. Come out now, my dear.’

 

From inside the carriage, Trin emerged – but it wasn’t our Trin, at least, not the woman I had thought of as Trin. She shook her hair back and stepped forward, her chin high and looking down on all of us. Gone was the uncertain, tentative, pretty girl; this woman was all pride and arrogance, her eyes shining viciously in the light. There was something familiar in those eyes, and when they locked on mine it was as if the veil made from that damned blue dust she had blown in our eyes was suddenly lifted.

 

‘It’s—’ Brasti began, his eyes wide.

 

Kest’s mouth barely moved as he said, ‘The assassin – the one who killed Tremondi and framed us for it.’

 

Trin smiled at me. She wants this – she wants us to know. The game is about to end.

 

Valiana – or the woman I had known as Valiana – was barely coherent as she said, ‘But … this is Trin, my servant, Mother, she’s my lady-in-waiting. She’s always been my lady-in-waiting, almost since—’

 

‘Almost since you were born,’ the Duchess finished. ‘And she was faithful, was she not? Attending you in all ways, coming to your lessons with you, helping you study, learning the ways of the court – and yet always your servant. Imagine how that must have been for her, knowing she was my true-born daughter, to bow and scrape and giggle at your follies.’

 

The evil in the Duchess’s voice was palpable. It had a rhythm, and it pounded in my head and my heart and I swear she was looking right at me when she said, ‘Imagine the discipline and calculation that would instil in a girl, to live as a servant all those years.’

 

The girl with the hard eyes smiled. ‘We must find you a more suitable name now, my secret sweetheart, and more suitable clothes, and more suitable hair, and most of all, more suitable duties.’

 

‘How could you do this?’ Valiana cried.

 

‘I won’t tell you it was easy,’ the Duchess said, ‘but it was necessary. That fool Jillard would never have granted recognition of your rights if he had thought you were anything but the stupid little doll that you are. I couldn’t take the chance that he might see the potential in my true work – or worse, decide to kill my daughter, rather than let her take the throne. So I brought you up to be pretty and gullible, and my dear Duke, seeing a puppet whose strings he could easily pull, has given his sworn recognition of Valiana as the daughter of Hervor and Jillard, and soon to be Queen on the throne.’

 

Valiana gave a terrified sob and ran to the Duchess, holding the packet of credentials in her hands as if they were made of gold. ‘This isn’t right – it’s not true! I’m your true-born daughter, I swear – I swear!’

 

Patriana, Duchess of Hervor, who had no doubt comforted and coddled the girl many times over the past eighteen years, slapped her so hard she fell backwards and hit the ground. Then, with infinite calm and a kind of grace, she reached down and plucked the packet held between the girl’s hands.

 

‘You are, in fact, nothing more than the refuse one of my men pulled out of the cunt of a peasant whose only redeeming feature was that she happened to look a little like me.’

 

Valiana was crumpled on the ground and crying uncontrollably, her face in the dirt.

 

‘Now, now, don’t be so sad, dear. Most peasants live miserable, short lives. You had eighteen years as the daughter of a Duchess, living in splendour and believing you were a Princess. It’s the dream of every silly girl, and you got to live it. For a while. But now it’s time to come to Orison, where Perault can put you to some use. Perhaps for his men, perhaps for his dogs.’

 

She signalled to Feltock. ‘Put her on top of one of the wagons and gag her if she screams.’

 

‘No!’ Aline screamed and ran out from behind one of the wagons to stand between Valiana and the Duke’s men.

 

Brasti ran behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Easy now, girl,’ he said.

 

Aline’s eyes were full of tears and she was blinking furiously. She held her left arm straight out in front of her and the other was bent by her ear and tensing as if holding an invisible bowstring. ‘You don’t touch her,’ she yelled.

 

Duke Perault laughed and took a step towards us. ‘My goodness, what a delightful girl! Are you the little darling who has caused so much trouble for my dear Patriana? That was very naughty, girl. We’ll have to devise some very special punishments for you. Very special indeed.’

 

‘Stay back! I will not warn you again,’ she shouted, tears streaming down her cheeks.

 

Perault laughed and signalled to one of his men. The man had his sword drawn and an evil grin on his face as he began walking towards her, taking little steps and then hopping, as if playing a game, and laughing as the girl’s terror magnified.

 

She pulled her arm back even further.

 

‘Aw, no, not a deadly ’maginary bow!’ he said, pawing theatrically at an invisible arrow lodged in his chest. Then he smiled again and took another step forward.

 

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