Chapter 28: Return

King Richard looked worn and tired. Vincet looked at him sympathetically.

That spring's campaign was supposed to have been a quick one, a simple going in and routing of Gallas's forces. Instead here they were, fighting off Gallas's troops, which had mysteriously started to gather right here on the border. Somehow Gallas had found out, or figured, that Richard would try to end the war here this spring and had sent wave after wave of his troops against Richard's forces to try and stop him.

"I cannot think how Gallas could have known what my strategy would be," Richard said, sighing heavily as he took another sip from his wine cup. "Unless the traitor is in this very camp. We have lost too many good men."

He had dropped the royal plural pronoun, which was a sign in and of itself of just how tired he was. Vincet leaned forward and placed a hand on Richard's arm. "Your Majesty," he said, his voice low and soothing, "Please don't give up. We have only been here two weeks; maybe it will just take a little longer."

Richard looked up wearily. "But how much longer? Why is Gallas throwing all his forces here, at me? I wish I had Sir Logan here. As young as he was, he had a good head. He could usually guess at Gallas's motives."

Vincet sat back soberly. He missed Sir Logan. Everyone missed him. After the first battle, when Vincet himself had been wounded, no one had been able to find Logan, his squire, or Julian. Two of the best knights in King Richard's court, and they had gone missing. It didn't bode well. They had looked in the face of every dead knight on the field, twice over, to no avail. Logan, Julian, and the squire Lee were gone. Vincet was hoping they had been captured, but so far Richard had not received any offers of ransom for the three missing people. People were more worried about Logan and Julian. When Vincet mentioned the squire, people looked blank for a moment before they said, "Oh, yes, the squire."

He was the only one who knew that Lee was really Jubilee, and a girl. And because he knew her secret, he was more concerned about her than Logan or Julian. If she were discovered, hell would break loose. Gallas was still known for burning witches, although the Inquisition was over now, had been over for a decade. Gallas could very well burn her at the stake for a witch, or have her tortured.

Not to say he wasn't concerned about Logan too; but Jubilee occupied more of his mind than Logan did. Logan could take care of himself. And Julian…Vincet had never liked the knight, not since he had hopped the border between Richard and Gallas's kingdoms and attached himself to Richard's court. There was just something about Julian, a sort of sly secretiveness that Vincet didn't like. And seeing the way Julian eyed Jubilee didn't help either. No one else seemed to have noticed anything different about Julian, and he had a few friends among the knights too. When the three had first gone missing, Vincet had told the company what he thought; Julian had captured Logan and Lee in the aftermath of the battle and carried them off to Gallas's fortress.

They had scoffed. Julian hadn't formally renounced his vow of loyalty to King Richard, so 'going over' to Gallas's side seemed inconceivable. He would be forsworn, and stripped of his title and his sword. He wouldn't do that, they said, Julian wasn't capable of that kind of treachery. Even the King thought Julian wasn't capable of that kind of treachery. So Vincet swallowed his words. Sooner or later, they would find out what happened to Logan and Lee, and he was fairly sure he'd be proved right when the time came.

He sat back in his chair and looked around the room. Those knights who were in the 'trusted' category were here for a strategy meeting after the fighting was over for the day. There were so few of those, however; most of them were injured, and were downstairs being tended by the healers Richard had brought along.

"Well, it's late," Richard sighed as she put down his empty wineglass. "I have no doubt you'd all rather be heading for your beds. I won't keep you, then." Taking that as a dismissal, they started to rise from the table.

"Your Majesty! Your majesty!" Came a panicked cry from the hall. "Your Majesty, there is a rider approaching on the west road, wearing green and blue!"

Everyone in the room sprang out of their chairs and started to rush from the room. Vincet was one of the first knights out the door, hurrying after the page.

There was indeed a rider, approaching the castle on the western road. It was too dark to see the rider's face, but the color of the clothes in the dim light of the torch he carried showed the green and blue colors he wore. The knights stepped in front of Richard, forming a protective circle around the King, but Richard was the one who spoke as the horse came to a halt before them. Vincet stood frozen as the massive black and white horse skidded to a stop, head hanging, flanks heaving. He stepped out of the circle, at first slowly, then at a run as he saw the unmistakable red and gold enamelwork across the horse's browband. "Logan!"

He raced to Logan's side, reaching up to catch the shorter man as he almost tumbled from the saddle. "A torch!" Vincet cried out, and a page hastily brought one as the rest of the knights crowded around.

In the flickering firelight from the torch, Vincet drew a breath in shock. Logan was thin, thinner than when Vincet had last seen him; and the dusky bruises on his face and the bulky bandaging under the shirt left no doubt in Vincet's mind that Logan had been tortured. But he was alive, and that was what mattered.

Richard stepped forward. "Sir Logan," he began.

Logan struggled to stand upright, gripping his horse's stirrup. "Your Majesty…you must go home, you cannot stay. The Queen…there is a traitor at the castle, I heard it from Julian and Gallas…You must get back to the palace, Your Majesty, as soon as possible!" And as if that gasped message had sapped the last of his strength, Logan collapsed, barely kept from falling by Vincet's hands under his arms.

Richard took charge of the situation. "You," he said to the page who had led them outside, "Run inside and get the Healers to bring a travois for him. You," he said to another page, "Take Sir Logan's horse to the stables and untack him. Feed and water him, and come back here."

They only had to wait a few minutes before the healers came hurrying to answer the King's wishes. Vincet helped the healers lift Logan onto the stretcher-like affair, and everyone hurried after them as they rushed off to the rooms where the wounded were being tended.

The chief Healer stopped them at the door. "With respect, your majesty, the man is injured and needs rest and quiet," he said. "I shall send a page for you when he wakes so you may question him."

Vincet sat in the chair by Logan's bed, watching the other man. The grey streaks in his hair made him look older, more mature. The lines on his face helped too. Julian and Gallas…so Vincet was right. He had tried to point that out to the others, but they still refused to believe him. Well, wait till Logan woke. Then they would have to believe. Julian had been Gallas's informant in court; that was how they had known where Richard was going to be. Now…if Logan was here, where was Lee?

Logan groaned and brought a hand to his head. "Oh, God, what a headache," he groaned.

Vincet leaned forward and grabbed the cup beside the bed. The Healer had said Logan might have a headache when he woke up, and had left a brew for him to drink. He slid an arm across the back of the shorter man's shoulders and helped him sit up. "Here. The healer said drink this. It'll make your head feel better."

Logan took the cup and took a sip. Then he made a face. Vincet grinned sympathetically. 'Sorry. He said you have to drink it all."

Logan grimaced and closed his eyes, tossing back the rest of the cup's contents in three huge gulps, then lay back on the pillow. After a few moments, he opened one eye. "Feels a little better." He opened the other eye. "How'd I get here?"

"You came galloping up on a black and white monster late last night. You told His Majesty something about him having to return to the castle, and mentioned Julian and Gallas…and then passed out. The Healers brought you here and tried to patch you up."

Logan started to struggle to a sitting position. "Damn it. I have ta…tell the King…" he gasped with the effort. "Vincet, please…this is important…I have ta see the King, help me up…"

Vincet sighed. If it was this important, he'd better help him, or Logan would injure himself trying to reach Richard. He went outside and spoke to the page waiting beside the door, "Bring His Majesty. Logan's awake and he needs to talk to the king."

Minutes later, Vincet heard the shuffling of many footsteps in the hall, and then the door swung open. King Richard, the Weaponsmaster, and at least half of the company's knights stood in the doorway. The Healer arrived, pushing his way importantly into the crowd, and kept them all out except the King and the Weaponsmaster. And Vincet, who was already inside.

Logan struggled out of bed as the King walked in and went to one Knee. "Your Majesty," he said quietly. Richard shook his head and hauled Logan back to his feet, then deposited him back on the bed.

"I am not so mindful of rank that I would make an injured man kneel to me when he should be in bed," Richard sneaked a look at the healer. "Besides, your healer would probably have my hide for it, king or no." The Healer crossed his arms and tried to look indignant, which was almost comical in a man who was shorter than Logan. He also had no hair.

"Now what news have you for me," Richard said as he seated himself in the chair Vincet vacated.

Logan looked serious. "Julian. Julian was one of the traitors. He kidnapped me on the battlefield after the first day, an' took me ta Gallas's fortress two days' ride from here. While I was there Gallas…questioned… me," (and his expression left no doubt in anyone's mind what form that 'questioning' had taken) "An' while I was in the torture chamber I heard Gallas an' Julian discussin' Gallas's plans. Yer Majesty, Julian told Gallas we were a 'present' from 'the Duke'. I don't know which duke, though. But Gallas was talkin' 'bout it later, an' he said that he was goin' ta keep ya busy here and send a messenger to the Queen sayin' you was dead. The traitor back at the capital's supposed ta take over the city an' imprison the Queen, tellin' everyone that she's gone mad with grief. Then Gallas would leave enough of his forces here ta make ya think he was here while he went upriver ta the castle and installed himself there. Then he'd send ya a message tellin' ya the Queen was in trouble, an' when ya came runnin' back he'd take ya captive an' execute ya and marry Renee. Yer Majesty, ya gotta get home. Leave enough o' the knights here ta fight ta make it look like yer still here, an' get back to the castle. An' in the meantime send a messenger ta the Queen ta tell her ta hold the castle with the guard. The traitor's gonna try an' take over."

The weaponsmaster looked grave. "Sir Julian. It appears you were correct in not trusting him, Vincet. I am sorry for not listening to you and setting a watch on him."

Vincet gave a curt nod to the weaponsmaster and leaned in toward Logan. "What did you mean when you said 'we', Logan? Was Lee with you? Do you know what happened to the boy?"

Logan looked down at the blanket that covered him. "Lee…" he hesitated. What would he tell them? Lee wasn't who he pretended to be? Lee was a girl? Then Logan would have to admit he'd been so careless he'd never noticed the boy's gender. He decided to take refuge in a lie; after all, the boy was with Julian, and as soon as Gallas's plans came undone Jubilee and Julian would flee into Gallas's lands. Logan, and the others in the castle, would never see him again. "Lee didn't make it."

There was silence in the room for a moment, then the King sighed heavily. "We regret the loss of your squire, Sir Logan," he said quietly. Logan breathed a gentle sigh of relief. They took it the way he meant, then, that Lee had been tortured and not survived it. "I never thought Gallas would stoop so low as to torture a child. Thank you, Sir Logan. The information you have brought me is precious beyond belief." He turned to the Weaponsmaster. "Who do we have that can be spared to run to the capital and deliver a message to the Queen? And how will she know that this is not a trick, that this is not another piece of treason? She has been suspicious for some time, telling me we had a traitor in the inner court, but I never dreamed…a duke," he sighed. "One of my Dukes."

Logan looked around quickly, and spotted his clothes hanging on a nearby nail in the wall. "Vincet…" he indicated the clothes. Somewhat puzzled, Vincet brought Logan's clothes.

Logan fished around in his pocket until he found the tiny gold ring, and held it out. "The Queen will recognize this," he said, holding it out.

Richard took it, and stared for a moment. "Renee's personal insignia and the royal seal," he said quietly. "How did you come by such a thing, Sir Logan?"

Logan tried not to sound angry. "Lee was one of the Queen's spies," he said, looking down at the blanket again, trying to hide the anger in his eyes. "All those times she called…the boy…up to her room, supposedly to perform his acrobatics for her…she was getting reports from him. She gave him this." Logan nodded toward the ring in Richard's hand. "The boy told me to make sure the Queen got it." Which wasn't quite the truth, but Renee would recognize the ring and know that the bearer of the message was trustworthy.

"So this is why she assured me the boy was harmless, and told me not to pursue him," Richard said thoughtfully. "I thought at the time that it was peculiar that she should start dallying with the castle lads. This simplifies matters much," Richard said. "Now we need to have someone go and deliver the message, and the ring. Have we any knights who can be spared?"

"With all due respect, Your Majesty," the Weaponsmaster said, "No. We can send a page."

"No," Logan looked up. "Ya haveta send someone who can fight. What if the messenger's ambushed on the road by bandits? Or what if the conspiracy's planned for somethin' like this an' has someone watchin' the roads? What if Gallas's got other traitors than this Duke and Julian?"

The weaponsmaster looked surprised, then speculative. "Let me think."

Richard turned to Logan and tipped his head a fraction of an inch. "We thank you for bringing this matter to Our attention," he said, slipping into the royal pronoun. "We shall ensure that your bravery will not be forgotten when We return to the castle."

The weaponsmaster shook his head regretfully. "We have no knights who can be spared," he said to Richard. "We will have to send one of the squires."

Logan shook his head. "A squire won't have the skills," he said grimly. "Yer Majesty, since I can't fight, perhaps I could carry the message ta the Queen fer ya? A week's ride wouldn't be too difficult fer me, an' the Queen will trust me. An' I'll ensure that the message won't miscarry."

The King hesitated. "I do not want to place undue stress upon you, Sir Logan…" he said quietly.

"Won't be no stress," Logan said. "I ain't in a condition ta fight in a real battle, but a skirmish with a possible bandit or ambusher won't strain me much. If Gallas has ambushers between here an' the castle, they'll most likely be prepared fer a page or a squire, seein' as all the knights are busy fightin'. They won't be expectin' a veteran knight."

The Weaponsmaster nodded carefully. "As much as I dislike sending an injured man out, I see no other choice, Your Majesty," he said. "And if we disguise him in the clothes of a peasant, he will be less noticeable. Especially as he is already disguised, with the graying hair. And that horse is ugly enough to pass for peasants' stock." He turned to Logan. "Your horse looks somewhat different now than he did when I last saw him, but he answered to the same name. Tell me, Logan, how did you manage the trick?"

Logan grinned. "Ran inta a farmer just outside Gallas's fortress who didn't have a likin' for Gallas. He smeared my horse with the stuff women use ta whiten linens. Then his wife ran some of the stuff through my hair to grey it. Gallas's soldiers were lookin' fer an escaped young man with black hair an' a black horse, not an old man with a piebald."

The King nodded. "Clever. Logan, I know you need to recover, but.." he turned to the healer and asked, 'When is the soonest he will be able to travel?"

"Now," Logan answered.

"A week," the healer said at the same time.

Richard looked from one to the other. "Tomorrow evening will be soon enough," he said firmly, overriding the Healer's protests. "Healer, I need him. Renee needs the information this man possesses. And he is the only possible one who can get the message to him in time." King Richard sighed. "I shall make arrangements tonight, Sir Logan," he said. "You shall have a fresh horse at every stop between here and the castle, courtesy of the King's Guard posts. The message must get to Renee as quickly as possible."