The Knave of Souls - Fantasy - Sequel to The Jack of Souls

Chapter 17

When I die, one hundred balladeers will starve, and so I'll be revenged on their breed.

            —Sir Willard, on learning balladeers compiled 100 Sir Willard ballads in a folio "cycle."

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ON BAD ENDINGS

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Willard waited upon Idgit in the middle of the road in the middle of the meadow beside the weeping willow. Hounds bayed in the fire-cone grove above, eager tenors ringing from the trees. Hoofbeats thrummed and echoed like an approaching storm from the north. No fewer than eight horsemen, by the sound of it.

A dull dread pressed on Willard's chest. If Sir Bannus were among them, this was the end. He did not fear death the way he once had when he'd first stopped taking the Blood. But it hurt to know that Anna would learn from someone else that he'd broken his oath to grow old with her and die.

If Bannus appeared at the top of the switchbacks, his plan was simple: he would turn Idgit around and ride to tell Brolli and the others to hide while he drew Bannus and his knights away down the road. As soon as they passed, they must flee to the safety of the tower. Of course, after that, Gygon would catch Idgit easily, and he was no match for Bannus after only two draughts of the Blood. So he would end it before Bannus could stop him. A quick cut, a short bleed, and the Sir Willard cycle would finally end. He'd imagined it a thousand times. There was no other way.

How Bannus would rage when he realized his nemesis had cheated him of his long-imagined dream of a living trophy for his hall. Of a limbless Willard kept eternally alive with the Blood. How he would howl of the craven, cheating Abominator.

We must sing our own ends, dear Bannus. I owe you nothing.

Nor would he allow Molly or Holly to fall into his hands. He would instruct Kogan to take Belle in hand and behead them in their stalls. If necessary, Kogan and Caris could chain them first, or—

"Sounds like a whole pack of 'em, Will." Kogan emerged through the curtain of weeping willow branches beside him. "Oughta be a ballad writ for this one, so we have to let one live to tell the tale."

"Then I shall surely slay them all."

"Har! Them's that's famous never appreciate it." The priest's big bare feet swatted the earth as he strode to Geraldine and grabbed up a long-handled stake mallet from his gear. "Get up, girl!" he said, grabbing her nose ring and tugging her to her feet. "Run ye to the forest! Git! You don't want no part of this."

Geraldine snorted and lumbered only a few steps away, but Kogan swatted her backside until she heaved herself into a trot, rags of wool flapping like the fringe of a shaggy cloak. She kept up the trot until she reached the foot of the meadow where she halted and looked back through wooly bangs. Apparently satisfied that he wouldn't aggravate her further, she lay down heavily to watch and chew her cud.

Kogan ducked back through the fringe of willow branches.

"Where are you going, Kogan?" said Willard.

"Just taking a safe lookout. Can't stick an arrow in what you can't see."

Willard moved Idgit forward until he found a view of the priest through a gap of willow branches. Kogan was climbing into a low crotch in the trunk of the tree. Once up, he sat in the crook to swing his bare feet and whistle through his cracked front teeth.

Willard frowned. He would need the priest's strong arms if the knights couldn't be talked off, but Father Kogan was unpredictable, possibly as much trouble as he was help. "Stay put till I call," he growled.