The Pilgrims

50

Anfen slumped in a seat outside the door. Gusts of deliciously clear and cool mountain air puffed curtains at the window, making them rustle. The city beyond had turned out many of its lights.

The Mayors talked a little while longer, though their voices did not carry outside the room. When the door opened they emerged and passed down the hall in pairs, deep in conversation. Most didn’t see Anfen, but Tauk paused to clap his shoulder. ‘We should spar while I am here,’ he said, a smile in his eyes. ‘I fear the standards of Valour’s Helm have slipped badly. I may have to run again, to show them how it used to be done, in days when men were men. I hear some stone-footed rabble won it three times, though they say his opponents were cripples.’

Anfen smiled.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Tauk, sighing. ‘If your charm reappears, bring it without delay.’

Izven lurked in the doorway till Tauk had gone. He looked nervously around, as though fearing to be overheard, then leaned close: ‘You have at your disposal what resources my city can discreetly supply you. What do you need?’

Anfen’s heart sped up. This possibility had not had a chance to bloom in his mind. He laughed nervously. ‘Five strong catapults would be a start.’

Izven winced. ‘Hard to keep that a secret: our city doesn’t have many. I was hoping you’d ask for cavalry, but that’s not much use for destroying the barrier, is it? How’s two catapults sound? They would have to be assembled on site. I cannot have them rolling out the gates or people will talk.’

‘Two is better than none. I will send word of a time and place to send them, if I may?’

‘You may.’ Izven turned away, then paused. ‘I have always had … the utmost admiration for you.’

Surprised by this, Anfen had no answer. Six years back, when he had first defected, and first been called to explain himself to the Mayors, to tell them all he knew of Vous’s army, their deeds and methods, he’d asked with head humbly bowed to join their fight, asked for the most dangerous missions they could give him. There had been no admiration on this Mayor’s face, nor any of the others. Aside from Tauk, their suspicions had never completely left them, Anfen had always felt. Perhaps he’d been wrong.

The Mayor strode over to Lalie, who waited in company of a guard, put his hand on her shoulder and spoke to her. She left with him, turning once to wave goodbye to Anfen. He nodded, but barely saw her, for his mind was far away.

Back at the inn, he woke Sharfy, Loup and Siel in their rooms, telling each to meet him in his at once. When they were gathered, he told them what had happened.

‘So why couldn’t this wait until morning?’ said Sharfy.

‘Tomorrow we set out,’ said Anfen.

‘Set out? Where?’

‘To World’s End.’ There was a silence, and many looks Anfen’s way that suggested he’d cracked up. ‘Speak your piece,’ he said.

‘Anfen, do you know what it is you’re saying we should do?’ said Siel.

‘You tell me. I’m proposing to defy the vote of the Council of Free Cities. For which I’ll most likely be executed, if any of you let it slip. At the very least I’ll never be trusted again. You can decide if that’s in our interests or the castle’s.’

Loup, seemingly uninterested in the conversation, ducked out the door and wandered to the kitchen. The others looked at each other uncomfortably. ‘I don’t think anyone’s going to inform on you,’ said Siel. ‘But we serve the Mayors’ Command. Which means we take their orders, however wrong they are.’

Anfen stood. ‘I would love to sleep here for a week, stuffing my belly with good food and drink. It’s open to you. Enjoy. Future generations may learn of your heroic deeds, in our Friend and Lord’s schools. Or his slave farms.’

‘Why are you getting dressed, boss?’ said Sharfy as Anfen strapped his boots on with angry, jerking tugs.

‘Changed my mind. I set out tonight.’

‘Tonight?’ said Sharfy. ‘Wait. Sleep on it, Anfen. In the morning. We’ll talk then.’

‘Enough talk,’ Anfen snarled.

Loup returned, a cup of milk in his hand and a drop of blood running from his nose. Even small spells took a lot out of casters in a city, where there was not much magic. Big spells were usually fatal. ‘At least drink this, before you go,’ said Loup. ‘I blessed it a touch. Strength for the road, protection from disease, heal your bones, this little brew. Improve your luck too, I shouldn’t wonder. Just a little.’

Anfen took the cup, sniffed it, downed it in one gulp. The others watched him without speaking. A minute later, his boots and scabbard on, backpack shouldered, he stood to leave, swayed on his feet, and fell back on the bed.

‘Heals your bones all right, I told him true,’ said Loup. ‘Strength for the road, oh aye. Can’t beat sleep for that. Now let’s go get some and leave the boss to his dreams. He needs em more than he thinks.’ Loup winked at them, his gummy smile lopsided.