The Long War 01 - The Black Guard by A.J. Smith Page B

patience and thought rather than action. He was not used to such things and he hoped that Rowanoco watched him closely; he trusted the wisdom of his god would guide his words when it was needed.
    The stone steps ended at another large wooden door and beyond he saw the darkening sky. The keep of Ro Canarn was drenched in rain, and the smell of blood and salt water filled Magnus’s nostrils.
    Young men of Canarn were cleaning the courtyard of debris and repairing various wooden structures that had been destroyed during the battle. Knights of the Red, still fully adorned in plate armour, patrolled the battlements and, high overhead, the banner of the One God had been raised above the keep.
    Magnus was glad to see the open sky again and the rain was welcome on the priest’s face. He had not been allowed to wash while imprisoned and he instantly felt better as the water cleaned off a layer of dirt.
    In the days since his imprisonment, the knights of the Red had been busy. Though they had not repaired the broken sections of the city wall, they had cleared the bodies that littered the keep and, in the city beyond, funeral pyres could be seen.
    A knight of the Red, older and more scarred than many of the others, stood up from his position round a fire and walked toward Castus. His head was shaved and his eyes were fierce, making him appear a little like a bird of prey. He regarded Magnus with interest before he spoke. ‘Castus, would this be the fabled Magnus Forkbeard?’
    Castus saluted with respect. ‘Yes, my lord. He’s been summoned before Knight Commander Rillion.’
    ‘I have a report stating that this oversized Fjorlander killed close to thirty knights.’ He stepped past Castus to stand before Magnus. ‘You’re bigger than I expected, Ranen… tell me, is this sadistic little shit treating you well?’ He nodded towards Castus, who frowned at the unexpected insult.
    Magnus smiled and threw a smirk at his tormentor before he spoke. ‘I plan to kill him, so any insult will be repaid. He is a worm, not worthy to live, let alone fight.’
    The senior knight chuckled and nodded agreement. Magnus found it gratifying that his opinion of Castus was shared by another, particularly a man of Ro.
    ‘My lord…’ Castus stuttered as he spoke.
    ‘Quiet, soldier,’ the knight interrupted him, ‘this man is an enemy, but he is at least worthy of the respect due to his prowess in battle. I would kill him on a battlefield and be glad I had done so, but as a foe in chains he is a man to be treated well.’
    Castus averted his eyes, not daring to contradict his superior. ‘Yes, my lord Verellian.’ He glanced at the two crossbowmen guarding Magnus and motioned them to lower their weapons.
    ‘That’s better.’ Verellian spoke quietly and with a hard note of authority. Magnus guessed he was a true fighting man, which the dents in his armour confirmed. He carried a single-handed longsword, like all the knights of the Red, but his was older and obviously better maintained.
    ‘Castus, take your men and return to the dungeon. I’ll lead the prisoner to the great hall. A man in chains should be spared the additional torment of your company.’ Verellian held his hand out to the bound man, who passed the chain to him after a momentary pause. ‘Off you go, now, I’m sure there are other prisoners for you to abuse.’
    Magnus smiled again and, sensing an opportunity, turned sharply, his huge shoulder connecting heavily with Castus. The gaoler stumbled and fell face-first on to the wet, muddy courtyard. Both crossbowmen raised their weapons and Verellian took a step back, grasping his sword hilt.
    Magnus stood looking down at the man who’d repeatedly seen fit to insult him. When it became clear that he didn’t intend to escape, the other knights relaxed.
    ‘I’m sure you deserved that, soldier.’ Verellian extended his hand and helped Castus to his feet. The man was covered in mud and growling with rage. A shake of the head