The Red Knight

The Abbess’s look suggested that he wasn’t as witty as he wanted to be.

‘And many secrets,’ Harmodius said. ‘We are thirteen.’

‘The number of Hermeticism,’ said the Abbess.

‘Jesus and his disciples,’ Harmodius added.

The captain gave a lopsided smile. ‘Which of us, I wonder, is Judas?’

The men at the table gave a nervous laugh. None of the women laughed at all.

The Abbess looked up and down the table, and they fell silent. ‘We are here for a council of war,’ she said. ‘Captain?’

He rose and stretched a little, still feeling strong. A curious feeling, for him. ‘I didn’t summon a council of war,’ he said. ‘So what do you wish of me?’

‘A report,’ she snapped. ‘How are we doing?’

He was being told to mind his manners. Amicia was glaring at him, and Jehannes, too. He thought of Jacques’ admonition to be on his best behaviour. Jacques seldom said such things by chance.

‘We’re not losing.’ He shrugged. ‘In this case, that constitutes winning.’

Jehannes looked away and looked back.

‘Your own men disagree with you, Captain,’ the Abbess said.

‘That’s an internal matter,’ the captain said.

‘No, Captain. It is not.’ The Abbess tapped the floor with her staff.

The captain took a deep breath, looking around to pick up social cues from the audience as he had been taught.

Amicia was very tense. The Abbess gave nothing away, nor did Harmodius, although their blankness contrasted – his a studied indifference, hers an apparently angry attentiveness. Father Henry was nervous and upset. Mag was willing him to do well. To deliver good news. Johne the Bailli was too tired to listen well.

Tom was trying to look down Amicia’s dress; Jehannes was on the edge of his seat; Master Random was sitting back with his arms crossed, but his whole attention was on the captain.

Ser Milus was trying not to go to sleep.

The captain nodded.

‘Very well, lady. Here it is.’ He took a steadying breath. ‘This fortress is ancient, and contains a powerful Hermetic source that is of equal value to magisters of all species. This fortress and the people in it are an affront to the Wild. Events – a slow progression of events that recently reached a crescendo, and include the advent of this company – forced the hand of certain powers of the Wild. And now, the Wild has come to take the fortress.’ He paused.

‘Take it back,’ he said, slowly, for dramatic effect.

Even the Abbess was startled.

‘It was theirs,’ the captain said, in a quiet, reasonable voice. ‘They built the well. They carved the tunnels.’ He looked around. ‘We took it in a night of fire and sorcery,’ he picked up his wine cup, ‘two hundred years ago, I’ll guess. And now the Wild is back, because the lines are shifting and things fall apart, and now we’re weaker than we were.’

‘Alba?’ asked Jehannes.

‘Humanity,’ the captain said. ‘That’s all just background. But it is important, because I have puzzled again and again over why the enemy is taking casualties and engaging us here. It is costing them. Jehannes, how many of the enemy have we killed?’

Jehannes shook his head. ‘Many,’ he said.

‘So many that I can only wish I’d signed the Abbess to a per-creature contract,’ the captain said. ‘In fact, I was suckered into this contract. My youth was taken advantage of.’ He smiled. ‘But never mind that. The enemy has lost several dozen irreplaceable minor powers, as well as hundreds – perhaps even thousands – of the small inhabitants of the High Wilderness. We have lost twenty-seven local people, seven sisters, three novices, and thirty of my soldiers. We have lost all the farms, and all of the animals not penned within the fortress. We have lost the Lower Town.’ He spread his hands and leaned onto the table. ‘But we have not lost the fortress. Nor the bridge. Most important of all, we have not lost.’

‘Lost what?’ asked the Abbess.

The captain shrugged. ‘It’s spiritual. A matter of faith, if you like. Our enemy depends on success as much as on displays of power to hold his place. It is the way of the Wild. Red in tooth and claw. Wolf eat wolf. Every tiny defeat we hand him, every bee sting, causes his allies to wonder – is he as strong as he seems?’

The Abbess nodded. ‘Can we win?’ she asked.

He nodded decisively. ‘We can.’

‘How?’ she asked.

The captain crossed his arms and leaned against the mantelpiece. ‘By hurting him so badly that his allies think he is weak.’

Harmodius shook his head. ‘None of us can take him, lad.’

‘He’s not that bright,’ the captain said. ‘I think that all of us, working together, can take him.’

Harmodius rose. ‘You’re out of your depth,’ he said. ‘He’s more powerful than you can imagine. And even if you hurt him-’ He paused, obviously a man on the verge of saying too much.

The captain sipped wine. ‘I’ve seen him retreat twice now.’

Harmodius spread his arms. ‘I admit he’s cautious.’

‘If his people see him run from us, surely that’s enough.’ The captain looked at the Magus. ‘Isn’t it?’