White Heat by K. M. Grant

Author:K. M. Grant
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2008-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

10

Surrender

By late afternoon it was all over. Two of Hugh’s siege engines had been hauled into place by men and oxen. Four well-aimed boulders finished cracking the rock. Half crashed down at once in a storm of stone and dust, the rest a few moments later. When it had settled, Aimery, who had been waiting impatiently in the valley, rode up through the trees as far as his horse could manage and then dismounted and completed the climb on foot, with twenty knights behind him. Hugh was not there and Yolanda had not even asked to come, which had disappointed Aimery because he wanted her to witness first hand the moment when Raimon had to hand over the Flame. Just before he reached the plateau, Aimery suddenly stopped and thought for a moment or two. “Go back to the château,” he ordered his page. “I shan’t take the actual surrender of the Flame here. I’ll take it in the great hall. But I want trumpets and drums when the Flame comes through the Castelneuf gate, just to let everybody know what’s happening. Tell the musicians to be ready.”

Raimon, Parsifal, the two troubadours, and Cador were standing shoulder to shoulder in a line. Parsifal, leaning on Cador for support, took the Flame out of his pouch. He didn’t want it to be snatched from him. Those who had been consoled were standing quite separately, huddled behind the White Wolf. He stood quite fearlessly at the front, a shepherd guarding his flock.

Raimon knew, without even looking, that Yolanda was not with Aimery, and he was thankful that their first meeting would not be in such a public place. He looked out beyond the hills, unable to stop himself from scanning the horizon for any sign of Count Raymond. There was none. Then he noted that Aimery, as a deliberate insult, had not even bothered with armor. Thirst plagued him. If only he had some water, his brain would stop scratching his skull and he’d be able to think properly.

This was an almost dreamlike moment for Aimery too. Though he had known for weeks that the Flame would finally be his and though he had seen the prick of blue every night, it was still startling to find himself so close to it. Parsifal got Cador to put the box down on a flat stone so that Aimery would pick it up rather than Raimon having to hand it over. A little thing, perhaps, but it felt significant.

Aimery watched, his mouth suddenly dry. The Flame was smaller and its box shabbier than he expected. From all its years of traveling, many of the filigree holes that had once been so attractive had collapsed into each other and it was scraped all down one side. In a market bazaar, you’d have given nothing for it. Nevertheless, his skin prickled. Keeping his eyes on it, he spoke to Raimon. “You should kneel,” he said. “Even kings kneel when they submit.”

“I’m not a king,” Raimon said.

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