Two Kingdoms 11: Knives

[DoctorM]

Author's Note: This is the ninth part of an AU construction about a very different post-1120 Gwynedd where the coronation challenge at Kelson's coronation went rather differently--- very differently. There are characters and background here that go back to some stories in very, very early issues of Deryni Archives and to my own much younger days. This segment falls after "Departures"  and "Entr'acte" but some years prior to "Arrows and Glass". As always, input and comments are very much appreciated.

********

The Shadow Queen is looking at maps this morning, following along with the fighting in the north.  Her captain-general's men consult their notes and tap gloved fingers on the huge maps unrolled on the table.  Tolan and Marluk officers wait against the walls with their own portfolios.

The news on the northern fronts isn't bad at all. The Torenthi have fallen back along the Rheljans, and Marley's captains have mounted a thrust out of Eastmarch to Cardosa. There's fighting in the Torenth east, of course. Duke Lionel's envoys have brought her the news,— more Jandrich lords turning against Wencit. The Torenthi are shifting men east and south, away from the Rheljans, away from the frontiers of Eastmarch and of ducal Tolan in the north.

News from Kheldish country, too. Marley himself has pushed the Earl of Kierney's men back almost to Rhorau.  The Shadow Queen runs a finger over the names on the map— Marley's men in Cardosa, Marley's men preparing to lay siege to Rhorau. Let's keep an eye on that. She has plans for Old Kheldour and the Riding that don't include Bran Coris.

And news at sea as well. The Duke of Cassan had acquired ships— four war galleys and a couple of ballingers, the fast little ships used for piracy and hunting whales in northern waters. The ships were home-ported in Laas in Meara. They hired out to lords in the Connait, and were mostly seen doing mercenary work and a bit of piratical raiding in Howicce and down sometimes almost to Autun. Cassan had hired them, and they'd raided into the Northarch Gulf, raided coastal villages on the Marley and Tolan coasts. Christian suspected the money sending them north was Bremagni rather than Cassan's own. But now they weren't Cassan's anymore.

Christian and Marley had contrived to outbid Jared of Cassan, or at least give the captains raiding rights that Cassan couldn't. The galleys had taken Stevenham up by Claibourne and raided Kilshane in the Kheldish Gulf, in Kierney country. From what she could tell, from what her intelligencers told her, the galleys were harrying the coasts, putting ashore raiding parties and ferrying men-at-arms across Northarch in the ballingers to seize villages and local towers.

The Shadow Queen will be leaving Rhemuth soon; she knows that. The Haldane boy's generals are pushing up to the city. But she won't be squeezed from two directions. There'll be depth behind her at Valoret when the time comes.

******

She's going over the northern maps when it begins.  In the corner of her eye she sees two of her Moorish guards start. Their heads come up and their eyes go to the door. She knows the look: hunting dogs hearing a horn somewhere in the distance. A hiss like wind through steppe grass fills her mind. Sparrow, the voice in her head says. Sparrow. Sparrow. Sparrow.

She straightens up from the map, her eyes going to the door, running over the officers and courtiers around the map table. Some of them are Deryni, too, and they're hearing warning words just as she is. Faces turn to her in shock or expectation, other faces turn to the door. 

Her body moves on its own. Her hand goes inside a sleeve and comes out with her stiletto. Behind her eyes and all through her fingers there's power coming alive.  Starling, she responds. Starling. Starling. Somewhere out in the castle, her lifeguards are in motion. Somewhere out in the castle grounds, blood is being spilled.

The doors come open and royal guardsmen with halberds take up position. A young officer in the Tolan colours salutes. He's out of breath from the stairs. "It's an attentat, Your Grace," he says. "There's fighting in the courts.  Lord Colforth asks—-"

Charissa cuts him off. "I know," she says. "Let's go."

The two Moors close up behind her, hands on sword hilts. She follows the officer out into the hall. She can hear sounds up and down the stairs— metal clashing, cries and commands. Colforth's men enfold her inside a fence of halberds . The stiletto is still in her hand.

At the turning of the corridor Yusuf al-Fayturi is waiting with four more of her Moorish guards. Al-Fayturi has been with her as their captain since ever she's had Moors in her service. The Moors are pledged to her; she's not going anywhere without them. Al-Fayturi nods crisply. "Shadow Lady." She nods back and they set off.

Women's voices come down the corridor, her ladies-in-waiting in a fluttering knot. Charissa waves them in. "You lot—- chiennes!  With me!" They stumble after her and she holds up a hand. "This is how it works. Stay up with me. If I say come, you come. If I say run, you get behind me and run hard. Nobody stops, everybody keeps moving." 

She points at one of the guardsmen and snaps her fingers.  The man fumbles at his belt and hands over a short dagger. The Shadow Queen looks across her ladies and makes a decision. The girl she chooses is tallish and blonde and slender,  and she looks the least scared of les chiennes.  Charissa presses the dagger hilt into the girl's hand.

"You can do this," Charissa tells her. "You made it through an affair with Lionel and one with Bran Coris. You can do this. You're at the rear. Keep the others moving. Anything comes at you, you wait 'til they're close and you shove that blade straight out. Let whoever it is run onto it." She pushes the girl back to the others, 

They're moving down the corridor, moving to the west side of the castle. There's  a new voice in her head: Goshawk. Goshawk. Goshawk.  One less worry. Christian is alive, whatever's happening.  And whatever's happening, there's a set of  procedures for this. There's always safety in procedure.

They make another turn and she sees herself in window glass, a ghost figure in a blue robe passing across down the corridor. You are Charissa de Festil, the ghost tells her. You are afraid of no man living. She's aware of the steel hilt of the stiletto in her hand.  She presses a thumb against one of the quillons, making sure of her grip. She wants it to be true, that she's afraid of no man living. Right now there are Deryni messages going in and out of her mind. Vesper, the voices say. Vesper. There's still fighting down there in the courtyards, still blood being shed.

There are courtiers and servants and officials dashing back and forth in the hallways, and her guards ram through them,  shouldering aside lords as well as sweepers.  Men in silk and velvet slam back into the wall as the royal party strides past.The corridor opens out into a chamber with guarded doors on the outer walls. There are more of Colforth's men there, and men in black-and-gold Falkenberg livery as well. 

She steps to one side and motions her ladies past. The tall girl— Kendria, her name is,  called Kenna —still has the dagger, and she's been chivvying the others along. The girl is from Marluk country, Charissa remembers. Charissa touches the girl's shoulder and nods. At least one of les chiennes knows how to face down her fears.

Christian pushes through to her. Not in armour, but he has a kinzhal with him, a steppe horseman's blade. "We're waiting here," he says. "It's contained. Colforth and his people have it contained in the yards."

"What's happened? It can't be an army."

"A convoy train came in on the way to the docks.  It sounds like they were Haldane raiders. Maybe people hidden in the wagons. Maybe all the drivers, too. Colforth thinks there were maybe forty with arms. They went for the inner gates and the keep. They didn't make it inside. Close, though."

"Just assassins, then."

Christian nods. "They were here for you." He shrugs.  "Everybody else, too—- at least anyone noble. Colforth's people stopped them getting inside. They're chasing down the last of them."

"Make some arrests," the Shadow Queen says. "Get some inquisitors in, get Aurelian's people. Find out how they got into the yards, how they got past the gates. Find out how they got into the city. Make examples. Use your own discretion."

Christian looks over the room. "Riots tonight," he says. "The news is in the city. The mob will think the Haldanes are already here. I'll be breaking up anything that's more than two people saying good evening."

Riots across the last week, though not near the castle or the docks. She knows what Christian means by breaking up: horsemen clearing the broader streets with the edge of the sword, Christian's archers moving across the rooftops, shooting down out of the dusk into crowds.  They're called the Night Walkers now. The city rumor is that the  Prince of Kheldour's archers are ghosts the Shadow Queen has raised up to swoop down out of the dark for blood.

Christian is looking at al-Fayturi. He turns back to Charissa. "You need to be ready to leave," he says. "No more than two days. We need you headed north. It's time for you to be in Valoret."

"The city's waiting to rise up," al-Fayturi says. "If the Haldane lords bring troops in sight of the city...." He gestures over the crowd and the guards. "Shadow Lady, it's time to leave."

Charissa slides the stiletto back into her sleeve. "Forty of them," she says. "How many did they kill?"

"Guards," Christian says. "Clerks. Other carters. They didn't get inside. But that's this time."

"Fine, then," the Shadow Queen says. "Get the Tolan and Marluk commanders together, get the mercenary captains, too. Tell Colforth it's a warning order: the court's moving. Five full days, though. I'm damned if I'll look like I'm running from a few dozen killers dressed up like freight haulers."

Christian nods over at the queen's women. "Colforth is going to complain that you waited so you could bring les chiennes when he sent to get you clear."

"I wouldn't leave them," Charissa says. "That's not the way I do it. They're my responsibility. My father used to say that the reason we get the coronets and the ermine robes is that you get between your people and whatever's out in the dark.  Your father used to say the same thing."

"I know.  Your father would've have waited  for them. My father would've, too."

She flicks a hand over his jacket. "No armour, but you have that fancy sword. How fast did you run?"

Christian grins. "Grabbed it and started running to where you were. I think I knocked down at least a couple of lords. Part of being the queen's husband."

She rests her head on his shoulder. "Five days," she says. "I'll leave on the fifth night.  Valoret before All Hallows'. Bring all the good wine."

[DerynifanK]

Exciting new chapter in your story. As always your writing keeps me waiting impatiently for more.

[DoctorM]

Thank you!  There'll be more soon--- not too long a wait. And I do appreciate the kind words about my writing.

[Jerusha]

Heart was in my mouth.  I should be rooting for the Haldanes, but....

[DoctorM]

Heart was in my mouth.  I should be rooting for the Haldanes, but....

Aha! I may be doing something right!

[Demercia]

Yes it's good to remember there is usually another side to any story (except Bran Coris!)

[revanne]

Heart was in my mouth.  I should be rooting for the Haldanes, but....

Me too Jerusha. I'm even starting to like Charissa a bit.

[DerynifanK]

I have to root for the Haldanes because they care about their people, those that are so often the losers in any war withot having any choice. I have to say though, that I really like Charissa and Christian as a couple. Just wish they would end up somewhere else.

[DoctorM]

Yes it's good to remember there is usually another side to any story (except Bran Coris!)

That's probably true. His story is all about ambition. He'd have fit right into France just as the Hundred Years War started.

[DoctorM]

Heart was in my mouth.  I should be rooting for the Haldanes, but....

Me too Jerusha. I'm even starting to like Charissa a bit.

She's cold in a lot of ways, but she's not a monster, and she sees herself as having duties to live up to.

[DerynifanK]

I may not love your characters although they are products of their times. But I do have to say your your writing is riveting. I'm excited when I see a new chapter.

[DoctorM]

I may not love your characters although they are products of their times. But I do have to say your your writing is riveting. I'm excited when I see a new chapter.

Merci! That's very much appreciated.

[Laurna]

I realized I had not read this chapter yet. Time to read it. Very good and edgy, Doc! I have to say I really like the scene. I like Christian. "Goshawk. Goshawk. Goshawk.  One less worry. Christian is alive." That is good.
As for the Charissa, I fear I will never be one of her les chiennes . But she is still and interesting persona. Interestingly, I found myself being concerned about who was in the group of 40 attackers. Since names were not discovered, I will catch my breath and move forward awaiting  the next chapter.

[DoctorM]

Oh, I'm working on a next sequence. I hope to have it up next weekend. And I always appreciate your thoughts on things, Laurna.

If I were Marc-Friedrich Aurelian and his inquisitors, I'd probably find that the assassins were no one with recognizable names, just a few dozen soldiers from Nigel or Morgan's forces paid well for a dangerous task that didn't go well.

But of course....we'll see.

I like les chiennes, of course. They're young and suddenly sent off to a royal court where they're probably trying to fit into a world way beyond what they've expected...and having to deal with all the temptations of court life. But I think they'll grow up fast. Charissa calls them les chiennes--- "the bitches" ---but does seem to feel protective of them (if amused by them).