David Gemmell – Rigante 4 – Stormrider

‘High risks indeed,’ said Mulgrave.

Gaise smiled. ‘Remain behind after I have seen Lowen. Speak to the man with comforting words. He will not want to die. He is a merchant, soft and spineless.’

Mulgrave sighed. ‘A merchant with many friends in high places.’

Gaise Macon clapped him on the shoulder. ‘It will all end well, Mulgrave,’ he said. ‘I will have my supplies.’

He walked to the front door and rapped at the bronze knocker. Moments passed, and finally the door swung open, to reveal an elderly servant in a nightrobe, a heavy cloak wrapped around his shoulders. He was carrying a lantern.

‘What do you want?’ he asked.

Gaise moved past him, gesturing Mulgrave to follow. Then he walked into the darkened, circular reception room, removing his cloak and draping it over a gilded chair.

‘You can’t come in here,’ wailed the servant, holding aloft the lantern in a trembling hand. ‘The general is asleep.’

‘Best you wake him,’ said Gaise, softly. ‘Or I shall.’

‘What is going on here?’ came a woman’s voice. Mulgrave swung round to see a dark-haired young woman coming down the curving staircase. She was wearing a robe of green velvet, but no shoes. She also carried a lit lantern, and even by its harsh and unflattering light Mulgrave could see that she was beautiful.

Gaise bowed deeply. ‘My apologies for disturbing your rest, my lady. But I have urgent business with the general.’

‘So urgent that it cannot wait for a civilized hour?’ she responded, moving into the reception room and placing the lantern on a circular table.

‘Indeed so, my lady, for I have hungry men to feed; men who risk their lives daily for the king; men forced to sleep in squalid tents on cold ground.’

‘I think you should leave now and return in the morning,’ she said, coldly.

Gaise turned to the servant. ‘Wake your master, or I shall do it myself.’

‘Did you not hear me?’ demanded the woman. ‘I asked you to leave.’

Gaise ignored her and swung towards Mulgrave. ‘Go and wake the general,’ he ordered. Mulgrave took a deep breath and moved towards the stairs.

‘How dare you disobey me?’ stormed the woman.

‘How dare I?’ replied Gaise, his voice angry. ‘I dare because I have earned the right to dare. I fight for the king. I risk my life alongside my men. Aye, and I have to pay for that right with my own coin. I have to do that so that doxies like you can wear velvet robes and live in fine, stolen houses.’

Mulgrave winced as he heard the exchange, then started up the stairs.

‘Stop!’ ordered the woman. Her tone was commanding and Mulgrave paused and glanced back. She turned to the servant. ‘Broadley, go and wake the general. Then get dressed and fetch the captain of the guard.’

‘Yes, my lady,’ said the old man. He scurried past Mulgrave without a glance.

‘What is your name?’ the woman asked Gaise.

‘Gaise Macon, commander of the Eldacre Company.’

‘Well, Gaise Macon, I shall see you humbled for your rudeness. The king shall hear of this unwarranted invasion.’

She moved away to the far wall, took a taper from a brass holder, lit it from her lantern, then walked to Mulgrave, who had descended the stairs. ‘Be so good as to light more lanterns,’ she told him. Mulgrave bowed, took the taper and obeyed her instructions, touching the flame to each of the five wall sconces. He glanced across at Gaise. The normally confident young general seemed ill at ease now, even nervous. Had the situation not been so fraught with future peril Mulgrave would have found it amusing. He had known Gaise Macon as both pupil and friend for almost six years. In that time he had been impressed by the young man’s many skills; his confidence bordering on arrogance, and his endless good humour. But the one area in which the young general lacked all social skills came in the company of women. Mulgrave considered this to be a result of being raised by a widowed father. The boy had no sisters and no motherly influence. With women Gaise became either self-conscious, or, as in this case, haughty. How could he have called her a doxy, wondered Mulgrave? Would a whore or a courtesan have issued such orders? Cordley Lowen’s wife was living in a luxurious palace far south in Varingas. This girl was obviously his daughter.

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