they were planning to simply raid across the border." He smiled sadly.
"Oh, no, my dear girl. This is much more serious than a few skirmishes and raids. They plan to occupy Norgate Fief and make it part of Picta."
She felt the blood drain from her face. Her training as a Courier meant that she understood the strategic importance of the situation. If the Scotti were to occupy Norgate, the way would be open for them to raid any of the adjoining fiefdoms, and Araluen could never tolerate that. It would trigger a war that would drag on for years, bleeding both countries dry.
"Keren," she said, leaning forward again and taking his hands in hers to impress her sincerity on him, "you have to stop this!" As he began to shake his head, she raised her voice angrily."And stop saying it's too late! It's not too late! For god's sake, I'll speak for you. Stop this now and I'll speak to the King himself."
"A slip of a girl like you?" he said sardonically.
Alyss bit back the angry retort that sprang to her lips.
"You forget, I'm a Courier," she said instead. "And a Courier's word carries a lot of weight, even with the King. If you give up this madness now, I will do all I can to help you. I swear it."
There was a rattle at the door lock, and one of Keren's men threw the door open and entered. Keren looked up at him, his face dark with anger.
"Get out, damn you!" he flared. The man made an apologetic gesture but remained in the doorway.
"Sorry, Lord Keren, but Sir John thought you should know. The Scotti general is approaching the castle."
Keren stood quickly, the tray rattling as he jostled the table in his haste. He gestured briskly to the man, who left the room, leaving the door open behind him.
"Well," said Keren, "it seems the die is cast."
Alyss tried one more time. "Keren, I can help you. Trust me."
He smiled at her again, but she realized the smile was a mask for the pain he was feeling.
"You know, up until two days ago, that might have been true. But Lord Syron died the night before last."
Alyss stood up as well.
"He's dead?" she asked. Keren nodded.
"I didn't mean it to happen that way, but it is my fault. So unless you can bring a dead man back to life, you really can't help me at all."
14
Will and Horace stayed several hundred meters behind the Scotti party as they followed them through the woods. Had he been alone, Will could have maintained much closer contact, but with Horace along, he felt it wiser to remain at a distance. The tall warrior wasn't clumsy by any means. In fact, as far as knights went, he was quite graceful.
But that meant nothing in comparison with a Ranger's ability to move silently through the forest. As he followed Will along the narrow track, Horace felt as coordinated as a one-legged bear.
"I don't know how you do it," he said at length. Will looked back at him, his eyebrows raised in inquiry, so that Horace felt compelled to elaborate. "How you Rangers move so quietly," he explained. Will frowned slightly, then moved back to his side.
"Well, for a start," he said in a low voice, "we Rangers don't blunder along, yelling out 'I don't know how you do it.' "
Horace was a little crestfallen. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Oh... right. Sorry."
Will shook his head and moved off again. Horace followed some five meters behind, watching where he placed his feet and stepping with exaggerated care. The thick carpet of snow on the track helped matters, he thought. And the falling snow would conceal them from sight. In fact, Will, in his black-and-white-mottled cloak, kept disappearing from Horace's view even at five meters' range.
Leading the way, Will gritted his teeth with every twig that snapped under Horace's feet. The warrior seemed to have exceptionally big feet, he thought. They certainly seemed to find a lot of twigs to snap. Still, he knew they were far enough behind the Scotti to make Horace's noise indiscernible as Will followed their tracks in the new snow.
"Oh, no, my dear girl. This is much more serious than a few skirmishes and raids. They plan to occupy Norgate Fief and make it part of Picta."
She felt the blood drain from her face. Her training as a Courier meant that she understood the strategic importance of the situation. If the Scotti were to occupy Norgate, the way would be open for them to raid any of the adjoining fiefdoms, and Araluen could never tolerate that. It would trigger a war that would drag on for years, bleeding both countries dry.
"Keren," she said, leaning forward again and taking his hands in hers to impress her sincerity on him, "you have to stop this!" As he began to shake his head, she raised her voice angrily."And stop saying it's too late! It's not too late! For god's sake, I'll speak for you. Stop this now and I'll speak to the King himself."
"A slip of a girl like you?" he said sardonically.
Alyss bit back the angry retort that sprang to her lips.
"You forget, I'm a Courier," she said instead. "And a Courier's word carries a lot of weight, even with the King. If you give up this madness now, I will do all I can to help you. I swear it."
There was a rattle at the door lock, and one of Keren's men threw the door open and entered. Keren looked up at him, his face dark with anger.
"Get out, damn you!" he flared. The man made an apologetic gesture but remained in the doorway.
"Sorry, Lord Keren, but Sir John thought you should know. The Scotti general is approaching the castle."
Keren stood quickly, the tray rattling as he jostled the table in his haste. He gestured briskly to the man, who left the room, leaving the door open behind him.
"Well," said Keren, "it seems the die is cast."
Alyss tried one more time. "Keren, I can help you. Trust me."
He smiled at her again, but she realized the smile was a mask for the pain he was feeling.
"You know, up until two days ago, that might have been true. But Lord Syron died the night before last."
Alyss stood up as well.
"He's dead?" she asked. Keren nodded.
"I didn't mean it to happen that way, but it is my fault. So unless you can bring a dead man back to life, you really can't help me at all."
14
Will and Horace stayed several hundred meters behind the Scotti party as they followed them through the woods. Had he been alone, Will could have maintained much closer contact, but with Horace along, he felt it wiser to remain at a distance. The tall warrior wasn't clumsy by any means. In fact, as far as knights went, he was quite graceful.
But that meant nothing in comparison with a Ranger's ability to move silently through the forest. As he followed Will along the narrow track, Horace felt as coordinated as a one-legged bear.
"I don't know how you do it," he said at length. Will looked back at him, his eyebrows raised in inquiry, so that Horace felt compelled to elaborate. "How you Rangers move so quietly," he explained. Will frowned slightly, then moved back to his side.
"Well, for a start," he said in a low voice, "we Rangers don't blunder along, yelling out 'I don't know how you do it.' "
Horace was a little crestfallen. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Oh... right. Sorry."
Will shook his head and moved off again. Horace followed some five meters behind, watching where he placed his feet and stepping with exaggerated care. The thick carpet of snow on the track helped matters, he thought. And the falling snow would conceal them from sight. In fact, Will, in his black-and-white-mottled cloak, kept disappearing from Horace's view even at five meters' range.
Leading the way, Will gritted his teeth with every twig that snapped under Horace's feet. The warrior seemed to have exceptionally big feet, he thought. They certainly seemed to find a lot of twigs to snap. Still, he knew they were far enough behind the Scotti to make Horace's noise indiscernible as Will followed their tracks in the new snow.
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