David Gemmell – Rigante 4 – Stormrider

‘The Moidart has left Eldacre,’ said Sir Sperring Dale.

The Finance glanced at the man’s thin face. ‘He is coming to meet us on the field?’

‘No, my lord. He is fleeing to the north with five thousand men.’

The Finance was amazed. ‘You said he would hold Eldacre. You said that Eldacre was the key to the north and he would not give it up.’

‘Indeed I did, my lord,’ answered Sir Sperring. ‘It was the logical course of action. We have been watching him, and we were led to believe this was his plan. However, he has hired a vile and demonic creature who casts evil ward spells which prevent our mystics from seeing within the castle. This creature has obviously witnessed the power of your forces, and has prevailed upon the Moidart to withdraw. Our belief is that he intends to seek aid from the Rigante.’

‘Then Eldacre Castle is mine without a fight?’ The Finance laughed. ‘I hate the man, but I have never before seen him as a fool or a coward.’

‘He is not a military man, my lord. He is a schemer, skilled in the art of politics and treachery.’

‘It seems to me that those two beasts are one and the same,’ said the Finance.

‘Perhaps so,’ agreed Sir Sperring. ‘Yet there is some small merit in the retreat. Had he attempted to hold the castle we ourselves could have sent men north to engage in dialogue with the Rigante.’

‘For what purpose?’

‘Much as they may be despicable barbarians, and lacking in all civilized virtues, they are also fighting men, numbering close to five thousand. Better to assuage any fears they might have than to allow them to link with the Moidart and double his force.’

‘The clan would never fight for the man,’ said the Finance. ‘Sweet heaven, he has hanged, tortured and murdered them for twenty years and more.’

‘Aye, he has been a rock for the Varlish people. It is shameful that such a man has become an enemy to our race.’

The Finance glanced at the Redeemer, seeking some indication that he was making a small joke. He was not. His expression, as always, was one of earnest seriousness.

As the army closed on Eldacre town the Finance, with his five senior officers, rode to the head of the column. He still could not quite believe that there would be no fight. They passed through the village of Old Hills and down onto the main road. Citizens came out to watch them, their eyes curious. Some of the children even waved at the soldiers, who grinned and waved back.

A tall, spindly man in a black frock coat emerged from a shop and stood staring at the marching soldiers. ‘He should be taken now and hanged,’ said Sir Sperring Dale.

‘Who is he?’ asked the Finance, staring hard at the man.

‘Alterith Shaddler. A traitor and a defamer.’

‘Ah yes, the schoolteacher who defended the woman accused of witchcraft. I have heard of him.’

‘There is evil in him. I can feel it.’

‘I am not in the mood for a hanging today, Sir Sperring. Once we are established in Eldacre you can bring a troop back here and deal with him then.’

‘Thank you, my lord. A wise decision.’

Much of the snow on the hills had melted away, and the sky was bright and clear, the sunshine warm. There were clouds building to the east, and it was likely that by evening there would be rain. It was a comfort to the Finance that tonight he would sleep in the ancestral home of his retreating rival.

They reached the castle two hours after noon, and the Finance left the junior officers in charge of billeting the men. Many of the soldiers were moved to the deserted barrack buildings. Others pitched their tents on the open fields beneath the southern walls.

The Finance entered Eldacre Castle with two squads of twenty soldiers each. Sir Sperring Dale remained outside. ‘I will enter when our people have found a way to remove the foul spells. They are a pain to me even at this distance.’

It took more than an hour for the soldiers to search the building. There was no-one here. Not a servant, not a stable boy. Even the dungeons were empty.