HONOR BOUND

Chapter 3

I've slept like a log beside Rogher, and if someone has been snoring loudly in the room, I've been far too deep in dreamland to be disturbed. The bedroom was empty as we came, but by morning all the other beds are occupied as well. I suppose they've been too well entertained in the dining hall of the Soldiers' House to retire early. As things are, we're the first ones up and don't need long to get dressed. I'm about to go in search of something to drink in the dining hall, but Rogher has other ideas: he's headed back to the keep, and of course I follow him.

Obviously he knows something I don't, for when we walk into the Great Hall, Lord Jhorell is already there. He couldn't possibly look so awake if he'd stayed up all night, and besides he's wearing a different shirt than last night, so he's been to his bed at some point but is now here all alone. He greets us with a jovial wave of his tankard, gesturing for us to join him, and Rogher gives his Lord a courteous nod before sitting down at the table.

It's not nearly as chock full of food as the previous night, but it seems to be the custom in this castle to have something in the morning to break the fast. Two large wicker baskets have been filled with sweet-smelling little bread rolls, and beside them stand several round-bellied jugs of light ale. The bread sticks slightly to my fingers, and when I lick on the crust, it tastes sweetish; probably brushed with honey-water.

"I'm glad to see you up so early," Lord Jhorell says. "Listen, Rogher, there's something I'd want to talk to you about. I have a job for you."

I raise my eyebrows at my cup of ale. A job, and we only got here the night before? This has to be something truly special, and my guess is that it's either something for someone particularly brave or someone particularly foolhardy. Probably both.

"A job?" Rogher grants the Lord a slanted look, slowly chewing his mouthful of bread. He washes it down with a good swig of the ale. "So, my Lord, this is why you were so happy to see me back."

"In fact yes. Of course I'm glad to see my old friend again, but I'm even happier because it means now I have the man I need."

Rogher's eyebrows twitch as Lord Jhorell leans his elbows on the table and twines his fingers together.

"I've been very much annoyed to have no one I could send on this errand, no one I could trust to be able to do it with success. But you, Rogher, you're a godsend. You're my trusted friend, and not only that, you've really proved your worth over these past few years."

Rogher is about to make a show of protesting, but the Lord shakes a finger at him.

"It's not only what you tell me yourself. No, I've kept hearing about you from people who've visited the castles where you've stayed." He looks pleased. "You spoke the truth yesterday. You've made no secret of who you are and where you come from. People know you're my man, and that makes me proud."

I bite my tongue in an effort not to choke on a piece of bread. Of course I've heard that turn of phrase numerous times before and know it doesn't need to have any hidden meanings – but I also know that it sometimes does. Lord Jhorell gives me a sharp glance, I smile apologetically and gulp down some more ale.

"Sorry, my Lord, I'm too greedy for my own good!"

He ignores me in favor of my friend and I heave a sigh a relief. No doubt he can be a haughty man if given half a reason, and a misplaced snicker from a mere minstrel would most likely be reason enough.

"So, what is it?" Rogher asks levelly. "What's so important that you can't trust it to others?"

Lord Jhorell stands up.

"Come," he says, lowering his voice. "It's not something I want to discuss here where anybody could walk in and overhear us."

"Do you want to go riding?" Rogher suggests, but the Lord shakes his head.

"No, no. It's not something to shout about on horseback. I don't want the details to be known to anyone but you."

I sigh inaudibly, resigning myself to being left out of this secret. Rogher nods but doesn't rise from the bench.

"Isn't this the ideal place, though?" he argues. "Here we're sure to see anyone who comes within twenty steps. There's no place to hide here."

Lord Jhorell stops to think, then sits down once more with a nod.

"You're right," he says. "This is indeed the safest place. Especially if your minstrel friend would kindly play something so that our voices are not the only sound in this room."

I cannot hide my surprise. "You don't want me to leave you alone, my Lord?"

"No, stay here, just get your flute first."

He doesn't seem too moody even though it's still early morning, so I venture a joke. "My Lord, what do you take me for? Of course I never go anywhere without my pipes, just in case!"

Lord Jhorell actually smiles and waves a hand. "Right, right! Well then, just play something, and keep it nice and mellow. I don't want any shrill dance tunes at this hour."

I bow to him with some flourish and sit once more on the end of the bench. "Your wish, my command, gracious Lord. Nice and mellow it shall be."

Pushing the smaller, high-pitch flute back into a pocket, I finger the bigger one for a moment and give the matter a quick thought. Some nice, lengthy ballad would do well, and it'd also give me ample chance to entertain myself with variations and embellishments.

Launching into one of the Nightingale's most enchanting pieces, I nevertheless keep my ears pricked to pick up whatever I can from the conversation. It's bound to prove interesting, that much is plain from the way the two men are eyeing each other. Rogher is curious but reserved, Lord Jhorell... hmm, is that satisfaction or what?

"Come on, Jhorell," Rogher says at length, "what is it? What's this talk about not being able to trust anybody else?"

"Exactly that," Lord Jhorell drawls. "I have a rather delicate mission in mind, and you're just the man for it. For many reasons."

"I'd like to hear what this is all about, though, before I commit myself." Rogher sounds wary. "What have you got yourself into this time?"

Ah, so this is not the first time when Rogher would be letting his Lord off some hook or the other? I file this interesting information away for possible further use; such things might sometimes come handy.

"Oh, I'm merely going to get married."

Lord Jhorell steeples his fingers in front of his face and smiles at Rogher's astonished expression. "What, surely it cannot be that incredible?"

"That you're getting married? No, not at all." Rogher snorts. "I'm frankly amazed that you haven't done it already years ago, and I can't imagine why. There have been so many marriages and engagements recently that there should've been enough to choose from, even for someone as picky as you."

"I've been waiting for a particularly good catch," Lord Jhorell states.

Rogher's thick eyebrows climb even closer to his hairline.

"Waiting? Waiting for what? Jhorell, I never knew you to be interested in little girls, no matter how much they're worth! How old is she, fourteen? Thirteen?"

"Twenty-two," Lord Jhorell corrects. He's enjoying this situation far too much, and that makes me suspicious.

"Now I understand even less," Rogher says after a brief pause. "I know you like being secretive, but if you want me to help you, why not start by explaining to me the whole story and especially, what the hell you need me for? Surely you know well enough what you're supposed to do with a wife?"

By now Lord Jhorell is practically purring.

"I do," he assures Rogher, "you don't need to worry about that."

"I'm not worrying, believe me," Rogher grunts. "So explain. What is this all about? Who is she, and how come she's not been married already by that age? Where's the catch?"

"Oh, but she has been married," Lord Jhorell says. "Precisely that was the catch. Does the name Lady Inella say anything to you?"

Rogher frowns. "Lady Inella? I think I've heard –"

"Lady Inella an-Tmer?" the Lord specifies. "Does that help?"

It sure helps me to nearly get my fingers into a knot, and I can see that Rogher recognizes the name as well.

"Tmer?" he echoes, eyes going wide. "You're talking about the only surviving child of old Lord Thonarr?"

"The bounty herself," Lord Jhorell nods. "Lady Inella an-Tmer, married at seventeen to a certain ageing and filthy rich man, and now a fresh widow."

"Lord Landor's wife," Rhoger breathes. "Yes, now I remember. Are there any children?"

"Not a single one, neither from this marriage nor his previous ones. Now do you see why I might be interested in her?"

I definitely see, and while my fingers are coaxing out a variation of the ballad's theme, my head is busy estimating how much that young lady's current dowry would be worth. The heiress of Tmer with its numerous, thriving market towns. The widow of a man whose lands included several mines. Roll these into one, and what you get is something worth fighting for.

But how does Rogher figure into this? I'm getting worried.

"Yes, I do see," Rogher says slowly. "But I still can't guess what this has to do with me, unless you want me to go and escort her here."

"Rogher my brother, that's exactly what I need you for!"

"Forgive me for asking this," Rogher snorts, "but – surely you've already arranged to marry her? Because I'd hate to think that this job you can't give to just anybody would be to take her here by force."

"Nothing of the kind," the Lord says with emphasis. "No, I already have an agreement with Lord Thonarr. It's all arranged, she will be my wife and is currently staying in her father's house."

"Then what is this talk? Why haven't you gone there yourself, married her, and brought her home?"

"There's a problem, called Lord Berdar."

"Who's he?"

"The younger brother of the late Lord Landor, and thus brother-in-law to Lady Inella." Lord Jhorell looks highly displeased. "He's sworn to marry her himself to get back the ownership of those mines, and is hell bent on preventing this marriage."

"Wait, wait," Rogher says raising a hand, "now I don't understand! If Lord Landar didn't manage to sire an heir, how come his property now belongs to his widow and not his brother? I can't see how she could possibly claim ownership of it!"

"She can, because that's the way her husband expressly wanted it." Lord Jhorell sounds smug. "From what I've heard, Lord Berdar hasn't been on speaking terms with his brother for a very long time, and this is how Lord Landar took his revenge. The entire property will pass on to his offspring, and if he should die without issue, to his wife."

"How incredibly stupid," Rogher sighs. "Didn't the old fool see the trouble that'd stir up? All right, so he's already buried a few wives, but he must've been well into his sixties by now. He must have understood that he'd probably die before his wife anyway, childbed or no childbed!"

"Maybe he didn't care," Lord Jhorell shrugs, "or maybe having a young wife revived him so much that he felt completely unbeatable – until that one fever took him down. Who knows, but the fact is that Lady Inella is now a very rich young widow and her father has promised her hand to me. And I'll marry her."

"Right," Rogher says, squaring his shoulders. "So you want me to go to Tmer with enough troops and bring her here, right?"

"Not quite," Lord Jhorell says. "I want you to go to Tmer, yes, and bring her here. But not with troops."

Rogher gapes. "What nonsense are you speaking?"

"If troops were all that's needed, she'd be in my bed already," Lord Jhorell states.

Luckily I've got to the end of the ballad and have a good excuse to look totally focused on drying the flute, otherwise I might not be able to contain a snicker at how the mere thought makes him swallow. It clearly excites him more than just a little. He shoots me a stern glance which I answer with a beatific smile, then shake my flute to make sure it's dry once more, and resume playing.

"Believe me, under any other circumstances I wouldn't have wasted time in getting her here, but there's that accursed Berdar to consider. He's a scoundrel through and through, and he's intent on getting her."

"Then what is it that you want of me?" Rogher demands.

"Sending troops is far too conspicuous," Lord Jhorell explains. "Lord Berdar can't do anything while she's in her father's house. The place is far too well fortified and guarded, and besides, he's not fool enough to want open war with Tmer. But if he attacks her retinue on the way, then he could claim to have full right to keep his bounty since her new husband isn't even able to ensure her safety on the road!"

The bowls on the table jump when his fist bangs on it.

"No, that'd be like waving a banner over your head and saying ‘here we are, come and attack us'. Far too risky, too dangerous."

"Jhorell," Rogher says, sounding exasperated, "your faith in my abilities is staggering, but I hope no one has claimed that I'd have mastered the skill of flying or turning invisible since we parted, for that would be a lie! So please spell it out for me. What is it that you want me to do?"

"I want you to bring her here safely and in secret," Lord Jhorell huffs. "What else?"

Rogher taks a deep breath and sits up, head shaking slowly. "Impossible."

"It must not be impossible," Lord Jhorell says imperiously. "She'll be my wife, I want to get her here, and a diversion is the best way to do it. You travel there – with enough troops, yes, and without even trying to hide what you're there for. However, while preparations for the return journey are going on, you and Lady Inella leave in secret and hurry here. You'll travel light, and when you have several days' headway, the troops will start the journey back with her dowry. That'll keep attention away from you and it'll also mean that you'll get to travel a lot more safely."

"Why such a foolhardy plan?" Rogher asks desperately. "She's a lady – can she even ride, and what about sleeping in the woods and everything else? Don't you think it'll be suspicious enough, a man traveling alone with a woman, should someone see us? Why not just send enough men?"

"How many would be enough?" Lord Jhorell interrupts him. "I cannot possibly send all my troops on this errand, for who would then guard Noragayll? What if it occurred to Lord Berdar to try his luck here to see if he couldn't arrange a nice welcome party when there aren't enough men to defend the castle?"

Rogher falls silent and scratches his beard unhappily, and even I have to admit that Lord Jhorell has a point. That sounds exactly like something that might occur to an enraged and greedy Lord.

"As to Lady Inella, I have been assured that she can indeed ride," the Lord continues. "Don't you think that her father is equally concerned for her safety as I am? Lord Thonarr an-Tmer is a reasonable man, and when I hinted at this alternative in a recent communication, his response was very positive. I dare say that he would agree to it, if Lady Inella is accompanied by an honorable, experienced, trustworthy man."

I groan inwardly. The whole plan sounds terribly risky to me, but Rogher is far from immune to flattery and it's also a little too easy to play on his sense of adventure. At the same time I can't help wondering if the Lord might not be under some strange misconception as to Rogher's preferences in bedfellows. To arrange that the woman he intends to marry will be traveling alone with another man, no doubt forced to share cramped quarters... that tends to breed familiarity, Lord Jhorell must be aware of it. How can he trust anyone in the company of his future wife in such circumstances?

Maybe he really does imagine that Rogher wouldn't be tempted? If he does, I sure know better! All right, Rogher enjoys taking his pleasure with me, and maybe his tastes ran even more in that direction when he was younger – maybe enough even to make his friend aware of it? But I've also seen him chase maids whenever given the chance, and not just to hold hands with them.

Or is Lord Jhorell really so certain that Rogher wouldn't disappoint him, no matter what the temptation? I have to admire his faith but cannot help wondering if he isn't putting my friend's loyalty to too much of a test.

As if in response to my thoughts, Lord Jhorell turns to look at me. I finish the tune I'm playing, then cautiously lower my flute because clearly he's expecting me to do something.

"My Lord?"

"It's such a wonderful coincidence that you, Rogher, happened to return with this minstrel," the man says, lowering his voice now that my music is no more there to cover the words. "The two of you will travel together."

So he doesn't trust his old friend quite that much after all. The thought amuses me. Well, right he is, and it's not as if I'd let Rogher go anywhere without me anyway. This is bound to be a risky mission, and I'm in the habit of looking after the people I consider to be my friends. Very convenient, then, that I'll also make a useful chaperone, because Rogher will need me yet to make sure he keeps his hands off the woman.

He's making a show of giving it some thought, but we all know already what the outcome will be. He has no choice if he wants to stay on good terms with Lord Jhorell. The matter is as good as settled, and all that remains now is to decide when we'll be going and how many men we'll be taking along.

I nod, raise the flute once more to my lips and continue playing.