A HIDDEN ENEMY
The fortress at Inverglass reached up to the sky. A high, thin, impenetrable tower on a crag inaccessible except from the front, the place was defensible in ways Alf could not have expected.
A handful of men could hold this place.
Why the thane of Inverglass would want to discuss terms with anyone, he had no idea. The thane could simply stay in this fortress and never worry about having enemies. It was easily the most defensible fortress Alf had ever seen.
Well, I have to negotiate with him. He shrugged, thinking it. What more could he do?
He rode up the long, winding road to the distant fortress tower.
At the gate, he stopped as the sentry challenged him. He gave his name and said he had business with the thane. The gate opened.
“Weapons, sir,” the guard at the door said. Alf, looking up at the entry to the hall, sighed loudly. Here he was, about to walk into dangerous territory, and he wasn't allowed to take a weapon in? He sighed. Drawing his knife out of his belt, he handed it over.
“Thank you, sir.”
Alf removed the small knife from his sock and handed that over, too. He might as well be without any risk of being accused of fighting. If he was discovered carrying arms into the presence of the thane, it could spark an incident. Better safe than sorry.
All the same, as he followed the tall, silent man through the gate and into the great hall, he had never felt less safe in his life.
I could come in here and not leave.
He shivered. He would leave. He had to because of Ambeal. If he died here, he wouldn't be able to see her again, so he would live.
“This way, sir.”
Alf followed the man into a vast room. At the end of it, a man sat on a high-backed carved seat on a dais. Alf swallowed hard.
“My lord thane,” he said. He bowed low. He couldn't see the man's face.
“Arise,” a voice like dry leaves said. Alf stood, feeling his heart thud in his chest.
“My lord, I...”
“You come from Dunkeld, yes?” he asked. Alf stared at him. How could he know that?
He nodded. “Yes, my lord.”
“Approach.”
Alf did so. The voice was the merest whisper, but it still held an immense power, though Alf could not have said why. Compelling and frightening at once. He went forward to the chair. He knelt.
“Ah.” The man looked down at him. He had pale, pale blue eyes, so close to colorless that Alf felt sure that he could be blind. He could see him though, for he looked at him a long time, and then nodded.
“Take him away.”
“What?” Alf shouted. “My lord, I...” He shook his head as two guards seized his arms. “This is ridiculous!” he said. “I'm here to negotiate! I...” He looked round wildly. “My lord!”
“Silence him,” the man said tiredly.
Alf shouted as one of the guards hit him in the stomach, hard; a blow that drove the breath from him. When he looked up, he was beyond distressed. He was furious.
“Why is someone like you, who lives in this fastness, so afraid of visitors?” He shouted. “You could defend this place with five people...oh...” he groaned as the guard on his right hit him on the side of the head, hard. He felt his head go back and he saw stars. The men dragged him.
“Release him,” the thane said abruptly.
Alf felt their hands release his shoulders and felt confusion fill him as he hit the ground. What was wrong with this man?
“My lord, I...”
“Leave him,” the thane said distantly. He waved a hand, dismissing the guards. They left, reluctant.
That left Alf on his stomach on the floor in front of the thane. He groaned. His head hurt. His solar plexus ached where the guard had punched. His shoulders and arms burned from how they had dragged him about. He lay on the floor, coughing. Then he rolled and sat up as a strange noise filled his ears.
When he looked up, the thane was laughing.
Alf stared. Was he insane?
“My lord, I...” he began again.
“Oh,” the thane laughed. “I declare. I'm glad you arrived.”
“You are?” Alf was thoroughly confused now. What was happening here?
“Yes,” he said lightly. “Now. Stand. Come. We must discuss.”
Alf groaned. He wasn't sure standing was what he was most able for, but he pulled himself to his feet and gave it a go. He shuffled after the man as they went up the stairs and along a hallway, heading, Alf guessed, to the solar.
They went in and sat down. Alf was relieved to feel a cushioned seat beneath him. After the beating and then the ride earlier, sitting down was a relief.
“Now,” the thane said, turning to the door. “Bring us refreshments. Disturb us not.”
“Yes, milord.”
As they waited for ale and cakes, Alf studied the man carefully. He had no idea what motivated him to behave as he just had. He seemed sane, though, and, when the cakes and ale arrived, he passed the tankard to Alf as if they'd always been acquaintances.
“Now,” he said with a grin, “mayhap you can tell me how I could defend this place with five men.”
Alf wet his lips, considering that reply. “Well,” he paused. “You only have one entrance. Yes?”
“Yes.”
“Your men have the longbow?”
“I have two bowmen.”
“Well, good. Put them on the wall, have three men on foot at the gate...a narrow gate means only one man at a time enters. And who the archers don't pick off, the groundsmen handle.”
The thane grinned. “A wise answer.”
Alf let out a breath. He felt relieved. It was as if he's testing me. He shivered. Powerful men and their power games left him unmoved.
“My lord?” he asked, looking up. The old man drank a sip of ale, and then grinned. Alf shivered. He was still unsure if he was entirely sane. Right now, he seemed thus.
“Well, then,” he said with a grin. “Welcome to Inverglass, young man.” He clicked his glass with Alf's, who frowned. What was the thane doing now? He seemed determined to confuse Alf.
“Thank you, milord.”
“Now,” he said. “I was told you were here to negotiate. I was told to expect your arrival. Word had it you were not to be trusted. But I see you are.”
Alf stared at him. “Word, my lord?” Who? The thane, McDonnell?
“Never mind,” he said with a broad smile. “The point is that I trust you. So, what would you say to me?”
“I was to come here to negotiate a peace treaty between you and the McDonnell's,” he said, feeling as if he was negotiating a sheet of ice. “I was told to offer you terms. A parcel of land at the border in exchange for the boundary remaining unchallenged.
“Well, then,” the thane said, smiling. “I agree.”
“You do?” Alf stared at him. “Really, milord?”
He chuckled. “You didn't expect that, did you?” he said with a grin. “Well, I was told to expect you and as it happens I have little interest in McDonnell land. Of course, they may donate it to me if they choose. I see no moral obligation not to take it,” he added with another smile.
“No, my lord.” Alf nodded. This whole scenario was confusing to him. Who had sent him? Who had told the thane? Why?
“Well, then,” the thane said again. “We are agreed.”
“Yes, my lord. Milord?”
“Yes?” he asked. He seemed to have already forgotten the conversation, for he was reaching for a slice of fruit-studded cake as if there was nothing to be discussed.
“My lord, if it pleases you to tell me...who told you?”
He chuckled. He had surprisingly white, surprisingly straight teeth. He showed them now in a broad grin. “Who do you think?”
Alf swallowed. He did know already.
“He did,” he said bitterly.
“Indeed,” the thane nodded. “Which is why I will accept his contribution only on one condition.”
“My lord?” Alf frowned. “You mean, the agreement? What is it?”
“I accept only if you become thane after him.”
Alf gaped. “My lord! But...why me, sir?”
The thane chuckled again. It was warm, rounded and quite sane. He smiled. “You are trustworthy. A man who betrays a guest, sending him on a false errand into death, is not.”
Alf smiled, amazed at that response. “Yes. But, milord?”
“Yes?” the thane said. He lowered the tankard and perused the plate for another piece of cake.
“Why trust me instead?”
The thane chuckled.
“I trusted you because you bore no knife to my hall.”
Alf frowned. Then he realized something. By having him seized, the thane effectively checked if he was armed or not. If he'd had a weapon, he may well have drawn it to fight his way out.
This man is far from insane.
He was easily one of the saner, self-possessed individuals Alf knew. He liked him.
“My lord,” he said, raising the tankard. “Cheers.”
The old thane gave a raspy laugh. “Well, then,” he said. “Are we agreed?”
“We are agreed, yes, my lord,” Alf said.
“But you think McDonnell will not agree?”
Alf nodded. “My thoughts exactly.” He had taken the words out of Alf's own mind.
“Well, then,” the thane said. “I think I shall have him informed in writing. Webster?”
“Yes, my lord?” An older man with a long beard approached. From the way he was dressed – not very finely but neither in the linen garb of a servant either – Alf guessed him to be the man's steward.
“See to it that a document is written to McDonnell. State very clearly that I wish the land to be passed to me in exchange for truce. Add that I accept these terms only if this youth – his son-in-law – becomes his rightful successor.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Alf gazed after the steward as he departed. He still couldn't quite believe what had just occurred. He had come here expecting to be betrayed. Expecting to die. Yet, here was this man, a stranger, ensuring his right to a succession.
“My lord, thank you,” he said.
The look the man gave him made a chill creep up his spine and made him question his earlier assumption that he was quite sane. He shivered.
“Don't thank me,” he said darkly. “It's not for that reason I did it.”
“Yes, my lord,” he said quietly.
“And don't humble yourself,” he snapped. “You're an arrogant wretch. And I like that. It's honest. I like honest men.”
Alf stared at him. Then, meeting his eye, he grinned. “Thank you, my lord.”
“For that,” the man chuckled. “You may thank me.” He drained his glass.
Alf sat quietly a while, chewing thoughtfully on a delicious slice of fruitcake and wondering why he felt quite relaxed. His world had just been turned upside down and he was sharing an afternoon meal with a man who was perhaps quite mad. Still, he was actually happy.
“Now,” the thane said, pushing back his chair to rise. “You should find some accommodation. I trust you will spend a night here? The ride back to Dunkeld is too long to attempt in a single day.”
“Yes, my lord,” Alf said, rising himself. “I'd be glad to.” Oddly enough, he would be. He liked the thane, he realized. Liked him and respected him. That was a pleasant discovery in itself.
“Well, then,” the thane said in the same low register of voice. “I'll see to it.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
The thane looked out of the window. Out there, the sun was already setting. The thane stretched and turned to Alf.
“We'll dine in an hour. I think Blaire will show you to your room.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“Not at all.”
As Alf followed the maidservant up the stairs and to the chamber that had been set aside for him, he couldn't help but feel amazement.
The day had gone so differently then how he had expected. He had been betrayed and then saved by someone he would never have thought to trust. Life was strange. All because he had done as he felt was right.
He shrugged and, feeling exhausted, sat down heavily on the well-covered bed. He couldn't help it that, when he was alone, his first thoughts were of Ambeal.
He held her face in his mind, beautiful and precious, and hoped with every fiber of him that she was well and happy.