Kelson - The Bishop's Heir Part 17

Besides, was not Bishop Istelyn standing at the new bishop's side, affirming the new bishop's legitimacy by his mere presence? Clearly, Judhael was meant to a.s.sist the bishop installed by archbishops and king a fortnight before - and who would have informed them otherwise?

The presence of Caitrin and her family, standing beneath a banner in the Mearan royal colors, only added local interest, for who of the common folk knew what lord had placed his hands between whose? If Meara's senior royal was here, publicly witnessing the elevation of her nephew in the presence of the king's duly appointed and enthroned representative. Bishop Istelyn, who could say she was not ent.i.tled? And a prelate of Mearan royal blood could not but please most residents of this ancient Mearan city, regardless of the lip-service professed to the Crown of Gwynedd.

Dhugal dared not expect support from Ratharkin's citizens, then. But at least the public acclamation of Judhael, distasteful as it was to Dhugal, perhaps gave convenient cover to explore escape options; for with attention centered on Judhael and the rest of the Mearan royal family, there was very little notice being taken of Dhugal. Foot soldiers mingled with the throngs in the square, lining the cathedral steps as well, but none were very close to Dhugal. Less than a score of mounted knights and men-at-arms patrolled the area. Two of them sat their mounts at ease near the gate leading back into the cathedral compound, only casually watching the crowd, but the nearest other men on horseback were clear across the square. If Dhugal could make his way close enough to surprise the men and secure one of the horses....

Blowing on his gloved hands to warm them, he eased his way a few steps farther to his left, closer to the guards, casually eying the nearer horse - a wiry, fast-looking bay. Almost immediately the animal tossed its head and snorted, swinging its hindquarters against the sorrel beside it and dancing a little jig until its rider curbed it sharply. The other rider looked irritated and murmured something to his companion that Dhugal could not hear, as he jerked at his own mount's mouth, but when the two stood once more at ease, both of them were several horse-lengths closer than they had been. It occurrred to Dhugal to wonder whether the animals somehow had been aware of his scrutiny, but he dismissed the notion almost at once. He was good with horses, but not that good.

The pageantry of Judhael's acclamation continued on the cathedral steps, but many of the Mearan folk were also hailing Caitrin now. From under his hood, Dhugal watched her bask in their homage, wondering whether they realized their treason - or if they cared. It was also beginning to snow again. Soon, despite the sweetness of public acclaim, they would all pack up and go inside, and his opportunity would be lost.

He sidled a little closer to the horses, trying his best to appear nonchalant - and nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a tug at his cloak from the right.

"Ithel, it's getting cold. I think we ought to - oh, I beg your pardon."

The voice was Sidana's; and as he curbed his initial urge to whirl in response and slowly turned instead, he saw by her expression what had happened. He was wearing Ithel's clothes. Immediately he sensed a way to take advantage of the error - if only he were given time to carry through.

"No need to beg my pardon, fair cousin," he murmured in his best court accents, catching her gloved hand to press it to his lips. "You're the only one who's addressed a kind word to me all morning - even if it was meant for someone else."

She blinked uncertainly, too fl.u.s.tered to withdraw her hand.

"In faith, cousin, I had not known you pined for our kindness. You were merry enough last night, but wine will make even false men seem hale and earnest. My father was not certain you felt the bond of blood as strongly as we."

With a shrug, Dhugal let go her hand and wrapped his cloak more closely around him, stamping his feet against the cold and withdrawing turtlelike into the closeness of his hood.

"In faith, cousin, the cold out here is cold enough without the chill of family rejection. The ride from my father's lands taught me much of the realities of life. If my uncle your father can make my fortune in the new order, then it behooves me to listen to my blood - and especially to so fair a kinswoman."

The color rose in her cheeks at that, but she dared a tiny smile as she returned his gaze.

"Are you flirting with me, kinsman?" she asked, dark eyes teasing just a little. "We are first cousins, after all."

Dhugal decided not to pursue that line, though he let his eyes sweep her face in frank appraisal. With a tiny smile of his own, he shrugged and merely brushed a few snowflakes off the ruff of her hood. She paled a little and stifled a nervous giggle, poised to flee.

"Wh-what are you doing?" she whispered.

"Why, displaying cousinly concern for your well-being, my lady," he answered softly. "Did you not complain of the cold, only a moment ago?"

"Aye, it is getting colder."

"Then, allow me to act in your brother's stead," he said, taking her arm and gesturing gallantly toward the side gate - which also brought him closer to the unsuspecting guards. "I would not have so fair a flower as my cousin blighted by the chill. We can warm ourselves by the fire in the bishop's hall and have something hot to drink...."

He had kept his face averted in his hood as they walked, ostensibly against the wind; and as he set his hand to the gate latch and deliberately fumbled, the two mounted guards moved closer, the man on the sorrel dismounting with alacrity to give a.s.sistance - for he recognized Sidana, and thought her richly cloaked companion to be her royal brother. The man presented half a dozen open targets as he eased importantly between princess and supposed prince and bent to the latch - and likely never even felt the dagger which Dhugal filched from the man's own boot-top and jammed home underneath his ribs.

Before the stricken guard did more than wobble, eyes glazing even as a half-gasp died in his throat, Dhugal had wrenched the man's sword from its scabbard and was lunging to catch the startled bay by the reins, twisting the bit to yank it deftly to its knees and unseat its hapless rider. The exertion jabbed fire across his ribs, but he ignored the pain and vaulted into the bay's empty saddle, grunting as the animal lurched to its feet. He kicked it into motion, hunting for his stirrups. The horse squealed and lashed out with battle-trained heels at foot soldiers approaching from the rear. Sidana finally screamed.

He ignored her cry, for others were scattering and screaming all around him as well, parting before the plunging greathorse like a surging human tide.

The bay's former rider s.n.a.t.c.hed at his reins, but Dhugal whirled his mount on its haunches and sent the man staggering - in the direction of the snorting sorrel.

Brutally, Dhugal kneed the bay between the man and his intended prize, knocking him to the ground before he could grab the dangling reins of either steed. The bay tried to bite him while he was down, and the man came up cursing it and him and slashing with a dagger, trying to hamstring horse or rider.

The man was bellowing for help now, still trying to catch the sorrel.

Dhugal had to stop him, or his chance was lost. Swooping precariously low to slash at the man, he blocked another attempt to remount, at the same time praying that the animal would rear. To his astonishment, it did. The descending hooves slammed the man directly into one of Dhugal's swordblows. Blood sprayed from a hand-wide gash in the man's neck and reddened the trampled snow as his body disappeared under the sorrel's churning hooves. Sidana, cowering against the still-closed gate, stared at the carnage in mute horror as Dhugal grabbed a fistful of reins and glanced around wildly for the nearest escape route - which was fast being filled by foot soldiers and other mounted men pressing through the throngs. He suspected that most of them had no idea who he really was.

There was clear s.p.a.ce around him now - except for the b.l.o.o.d.y body of the slain and trampled guard - but the panicked citizens fleeing his horse's hooves would block pursuit for only so long. He must take his chances now. Far across the square he could see archers approaching. If he could not break free at once, they would cut him down. Kneeing his mount closer to the gate and the petrified Sidana, he seized her upper arm and dragged her UP to the saddlebow in front of him, to shouts of dismay from the approaching soldiers.

"Sorry, coz, but you must be my escort now," he gasped fighting to keep girl, sword, and his seat as he made the bay rear in defiance. "Out of my way, if you'd not risk the lady's safety!" he shouted.

She squirmed in his grasp, elbowing him in the ribs hard enough to nearly make him drop her, but he only swore under his breath and held her the more tightly clapping heels to the horse and incredulously watching the guards melt from his path as he bolted for freedom. Sicard and his sons were screaming frantically for horses, Caitrin half-fainting, Loris mouthing unheard orders as Dhugal shot by them. His pa.s.sage through the city streets became a blur of screaming, scattering people and shouting soldiers in pursuit, the chaos heightened by the loose horse which plunged along just ahead of them, helping to clear a path. Only a handful of riders pursued them at first. The city gates stood open as they usually did during daylight, and Dhugal and his still-struggling pa.s.senger careened past the gate guards and out across the snow-slick draw before anyone could do more than stare in surprise.

His pursuers were heavier than he in their war harness, so Dhugal managed to pull away slowly for the first few miles - but only at the expense of his gallant bay, running out its heart for him. Double-mounted, he could not sustain such a pace for long - but neither could his pursuers. He had temporarily lost sight of them when he pulled the blown bay to a shuddering halt and slid from its back, thrusting his sword upright in the snow. The horse staggered at the sudden lessening of weight and nearly went down, and Sidana clutched at the saddle, white-faced.

"Easy, good friend," Dhugal murmured, laying hands on the bay's heaving chest and soothing with his voice. "Better service a man could not ask, but you have earned your rest. Your stablemate shall carry us from here."

Still stroking the spent animal with one hand, he turned and held out his other to the sorrel, whistling low. The second horse was also lathered and breathing heavily, steaming in the cold air, but still with spring in its step for having run unburdened. Whuffling softly, it p.r.i.c.ked no its ears and came to b.u.t.t its head against his chest and present a sweaty face for scratching.

"There's a good fellow," Dhugal said with a grin as he obliged, glancing up at Sidana as he continued to stroke both animals.

Her expression brought him to her side at once, to lift her down and let her sink onto the snow in a heap of fur-lined cloak, weeping.

"I'm sorry for your rough treatment," he said, easing to a crouch beside her. "I had to get away, though - whatever the cost."

"Whatever for?" she sobbed. "Didn't my father offer you enough? Can you betray your blood so easily?"

"To have stayed would have been to betray it far more," he replied.

Nervously he glanced back the way they had come. "What your father is doing is wrong. He usurps the rights of King Kelson."

"Kelson?" Sidana hiccoughed and tried to stop her sobbing. "What obedience do you owe him?"

"I am the heir of Transha," Dhugal replied. "My father is King Kelson's liegeman."

"Your father is his liegeman. You have sworn no oaths."

"Have I not?"

"Well, you are free to give your allegiance where you will," she said, staring up at him with great, accusing eyes. "But how could you, with your family's blood joined to Meara's? Your uncle is my father, and the father of future kings. My brother will someday rule a reunited Meara. You could have been a part of it - would have been a part of it. Father had promised you a dukedom!"

Sadly Dhugal shook his head. "Only my king may give me that, Lady," he said, standing to rest his hand on the bridle of the bay. "And it is not your brother who shall rule a reunited Meara, but mine."

"But - I thought you had no brothers."

He shrugged and smiled. "None yet live who were born of my mother - but I have a brother, fair cousin: a brother of blood, to whom I owe total allegiance; one worth forfeiting my very soul to protect and serve - which I may have done, by breaking my oath in escape, and taking you with me." He sighed.

"But having risked that, I don't intent to waste it all by being taken now,"

he said, offering his hand to help her rise. "Your hand, please, my lady," he added, when she drew back in protest. "Don't force me to add another offense to the litany of my crimes. Despite what you may think, I was taught to honor and revere women."

Rebellion and indignation flared again in her dark eyes but Sidana was too much the daughter of n.o.bility not to recognize an untenable position. Spurning his offer of a.s.sistance, she gathered the shreds of her pride around her with the fur-lined cloak she wore and wobbled to her feet, though she did allow him to lift her onto the sorrel's saddle. She sat woodenly as he scrambled up behind her and reached around her to gather up the reins.

A moment to retrieve the sword set upright in the snow, and then he set heels to their mount and urged it forward, glancing back over his shoulder at the dark specks of their pursuers. The bay followed them for a while, but gradually fell behind and was lost as the sorrel settled into a modest but steady pace.

They managed to keep moving for another hour, until the shadows were long and weak on the virgin snow of the Cuilteine Road, but their horse was nearly spent as Dhugal drew rein at the top of a rise and turned to look back.

Their pursuers could be discerned as three or four score hors.e.m.e.n now, drawing inexorably nearer. Sidana stirred in his arms and gazed after him, the wind whipping a tendril of her dark hair against his face.

"My father will kill you," she said softly, not turning her head "After my brothers finish with you."

A tightness spreading beneath his aching ribs, Dhugal swallowed and shifted his gaze in the direction they had been fleeing - toward Gwynedd, and safety. They would never reach it now. Their horse would be lucky to make it down the hill, much less carry them beyond. And whether or not Dhugal were calloused enough to threaten harm to Sidana when they caught up to him - and even if he followed through - they would kill him for what he had done. Whether quickly or painfully hardly mattered, under the circ.u.mstances. Dead was dead.

But as his eyes darted longingly back toward the east and safety, he caught a trace of unexpected movement: more hors.e.m.e.n approaching, perhaps even more than pursued him. He drew in breath sharply as he strained his eyes in that direction, for they could not be Sicard's men, and have ridden fast enough to circle round this way. But if not Sicard's, then it mattered little whose they were.

Anyone was preferable to being taken by the Mearans.

He did not pause to a.n.a.lyze it further. Setting his heels to their trembling mount, he forced it down the hill, holding Sidana close against him as the animal stumbled and lurched, near to foundering.

He might still die. He might break his neck falling from this fool horse, if it didn't watch where it was putting its feet. Or the men ahead might be no more merciful than the ones behind.

But he was not going to wait for the Mearans to take him.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

All the men of thy confederacy have brought thee even to the border: the men that were at peace with thee have deceived thee, and prevailed against thee - Obadiah 1:7 "Uh-oh, we have company," Kelson murmured.

He reined back to a walk and stood in his stirrups for a better look, pointing at a snowy ridge far ahead where a mounted horse had just appeared, silhouetted against the twilight sky.

"D'you see him?"

Morgan, with a curt signal to halt the column of knights riding four abreast behind them, also drew rein and peered into the distance, casting about with other senses than sight, lest the rider not be alone.

"Aye, and he's undoubtedly seen us by now as well," he replied. "So much for approaching Ratharkin un.o.b - what the - ?"

He broke off in astonishment as the horse suddenly broke from the top of the hill and began plunging down the snow-covered slope, each ponderous lurch threatening to send both rider and steed tumbling.

"Is he trying to break his neck?" Kelson gasped.

The horse stumbled and nearly went down even as Kelson spoke, then suddenly both he and Morgan saw the reason for at least a part of the animal's labor.

"He's carrying double!" Kelson exclaimed in amazement.

"Aye, and to be riding double at that speed and on a horse that spent, the Devil himself must be chasing them," Morgan agreed. "Care to give the Devil some sport. Sire?"

Kelson raised an eyebrow at the borderline blasphemy, but he needed no second invitation. He had been spoiling for just such a skirmish all day. With a grin which had nothing to do with mirth, he unsheathed his sword and raised it over his head, glancing back to where Conall was already shaking out the folds of the Haldane battle standard.

"Forward at the canter and fan out!" he ordered, standing in his stirrups and pointing with his sword. "Whoever's chasing that fellow is going to have a surprise, I think!"

Immediately Conall and Saer de Traheme spurred forward and to Kelson's left, folds of scarlet silk billowing on the wind as the battle standard unfurled.

Jodrell led another detachment to the right. The deadly hiss of steel slithering from scabbards joined the jingle of bits and spurs and the creak of leather as the knights broadened their line, outriders spurring ahead on the flanks. They were nearing the start of the hillrise now, the fleeing horse nearly upon them - close enough for Morgan to see that the front rider on the horse was a girl, dark hair whipping in the wind. And the other - "It's Dhugal!" Kelson cried, even as the other rider's arm flailed in a frenzied wave of recognition.

Dhugal was in their midst then, laughing aloud despite his exhaustion.

Kelson and Morgan reining in to bracket his faltering mount as the rest of the warband swept on up the hill. Morgan caught the horse's near rein and drew its head close to his stirrup, his own mount scrambling for footing as the sorrel staggered and nearly fell.

"Steady!"

"Here, take her!" Dhugal gasped, helping lift his protesting companion to a new perch in front of Morgan's saddle. "She's Sidana, the pretender's daughter.

Her father's men are right behind me."

"How many?" Kelson demanded, as he gave Dhugal a hand up behind him.

Dhugal hooked a hand in the back of Kelson's belt to steady himself and shook his head happily.

"Not enough to give your men any trouble. Sire. Am I ever glad to see you!"

"And I." Kelson wheeled his stallion on its haunches and glanced after his knights nearing the crest of the hill. "But let's make sure you counted correctly.

Morgan, stay out of the fighting unless we're needed, but come along with me.

Oh, and welcome to Gwynedd, my lady!"

Morgan felt the girl stiffen in his arms as she heard his name, but he only shifted her closer into the curve of his shield arm as he urged his horse up the hill after the king, naked sword still ready in his gloved right hand. Ahead of them, the warband spilled over the crest of the hill with shouts of glee. He could hear the answering cries of consternation as DhugaTs pursuers saw the Haldane standard in the midst of their attackers.

The sortie was all but over by the time Morgan drew rein at the top of the hill with Kelson. Down on the plain, a handful of Haldane knights were in pursuit of a few stragglers, but the rest of the opposition were on the run far ahead.

Several men unhorsed in the encounter were scattered down the other side of the hill, picking themselves up shakily, but none of them wore Kelson's livery.

Haldane knights stood guard over each one, Traheme and Conall marching another one back to join his fellows while the squires rounded up all the loose horses. A cheer went up from Kelson's knights as he started down the hillside, and at his signal the battle hom sounded to call back their knights still in pursuit.

Grinning, Morgan urged his horse after the king's.

"A happy circ.u.mstance. Sire," he said as they drew abreast at the bottom of the hill and halted, glancing down in amus.e.m.e.nt at the girl now beginning to wriggle in his arms as he reached around her to sheathe his sword. "And a rich prize young Dhugal has brought us, too. There's no point in struggling, my lady.

You'd best save your strength for the ride back to Rhemuth."

"My father will avenge me!" Sidana cried. "You took him by surprise."

"But, that's the whole point, isn't it, my lady?" Kelson asked with a grin.

"To take the enemy by surprise? I would be a poor commander if I sent my men into battle in rebel territory without the best possible advantage. Your father would have done the same."

"My father is not a rebel!" Sidana said. "He seeks to restore my mother to the throne which is rightfully hers, and to give Meara back its freedom. We shall not be ruled by - by a Deryni heretic!"