James Axler – Shadowfall

Trader nodded solemnly. “Hell, why not.”

BARON WEYMAN CAME DOWN with his son at his side, when the rest of the group had almost finished the main course of smoked mutton with a mustard sauce.

He looked older and sicker, his face a dusty gray, and he leaned heavily on Jamie’s shoulder as he walked to his place at the head of the table.

The serving woman offered him a choice of the soup or the meat, but he waved her away, taking only a bowl of warm milk with some of the bread crumbled into it.

But when he eventually spoke to the company, his voice was surprisingly strong. “I have talked with Jamie, and we are of one mind and one heart. Your son, Cawdor, has been trapped because of my son’s foolishness.”

“And because Dean was extremely brave in offering himself up as a worthy sacrifice in my place, Father. We should not lose sight of that.”

Ryan was, once again, impressed at the confident way the boy spoke, and at the adult vocabulary that he used. It crossed his mind, almost for the first time, to wonder whether he was actually doing the best he could do for his own son’s education. But he set the thought aside. It was something that he knew he should return to, at another time and place, providing the gods came to ride beneath their banner.

Weyman smiled at his boy. “Truly spoken. So, we shall give all the help we can to this venture. Rainey?”

“Baron?”

“How many of our men can be spared? And only the younger and fitter ones.”

Rainey considered the question for the moment, his eyes half closed as he did the arithmetic. “There’s no more than ten good enough for this, Baron.”

“That will leave us with some force to defend the ville will it?”

Trader answered the baron. “You don’t need to be all that fit to lean against a window and fire a blaster. Different out in the forest against the brushwooders. No point in taking cripples. Just put us all at risk.”

Weyman nodded slowly. “Then it’s agreed. When will you go from here?”

“Midnight,” Trader replied. “Enough moon to see the trail. Then I’ll use your sec men as backup. Rest of us can go in an hour or so before the dawn. Time guards are slowest.”

“I’m coming,” Jamie announced.

Trader stared at the boy, his eyes like dark chips of Sierra ice. “Not unless I say you do, kid.”

“I’ve been in their camp, and I know where they’re holding Dean.”

Ryan caught Trader’s eye. “Makes sense.”

The older man nodded. “Long as he does what he’s told and stays where he’s put.”

Baron Weyman wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Jamie will do what he is told, outlander Trader. You can be sure of that. And” he stood, resting the palms of his hands flat on the table “I have something to say. I will probably have to go to my bed shortly. My health and not my will dictates this. So, I may not be up when you leave on your mission.”

Rainey also stood. “Best pick the men, Baron.”

He looked at Trader. “Where do you want to meet? Stables?”

“Yeah. Midnight.”

The lean-faced sec man bowed to his baron and walked out of the room, his boot heels ringing on the stone flags.

Weyman watched him go, then returned to his theme. “Firstly I wish you all luck. Secondly I offer you my heartfelt thanks for taking my side in this. You owe me nothing. Most outlanders would have walked on by. Or, even thrown in their lot with these brushwooders.”

“Not our way,” Ryan said.

“That may be so” He clicked his fingers, waiting while one of the older women brought in several dusty wine bottles, placing them at intervals around the long table. “This is the last of a very old chardonnay, from long-lost vineyards in the valleys north and inland from here. If you would help yourselves, I should be delighted.”

The baron poured a thimbleful for himself, lifting it to his lips.

“Health,” Ryan said, filling his dark green goblet, “life and happiness.”