A Day of Reckoning (A Time for Swords) by Matthew Harffy

Author:Matthew Harffy [Harffy, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2023-09-28T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty-Four

“You think he plans to kill us now?” Drosten’s gaze flicked about the hall where the emir had entertained us the night before. We had been escorted there from our rooms by a new cadre of guards. Those guards now stood waiting silently, ensuring that we remained where we were. The large room was otherwise empty. Gone were the tables covered in rich food and silver pitchers of sweet wine. It appeared that this evening we were not invited to the feast. Through the doors into the interior rooms of the palace came the sounds of merriment: music, chatter, the clink of cups, every now and then a burst of laughter.

“You know what I would say,” said Runolf. His tone was bleak and matched my own sense of foreboding. Revna was standing close and he placed a large hand on her shoulder.

“I still say it would make no sense,” said Hereward. “To bring us all this way, feed us and clothe us, only to have us slain.” This was not the first time he had said such things since we had returned to the palace. We had been led through the shadowed streets by the sombre-faced guards and even they had appeared shocked by what they’d witnessed at the river. When we’d arrived back at our rooms, I thought I’d detected a certain sadness in the eyes of one of the guards assigned to watch over me.

Gwawrddur sighed.

“We all know you are right, Hereward,” he said, “but after what we saw today, I am not so sure we can rely on the man’s sense.” He looked about him nervously, checking that none of the guards understood his words. They all stood to attention, eyes staring forward. They might have been stone for all the signs of comprehension they gave. Satisfied, the Welshman went on. “The emir is clearly no fool, but he is cruel. He revels in displays of power and pain.”

Moments before, we had walked through the courtyard where the fountain still burbled peacefully. All sign of the timber crosses had been removed, and the flagstones scrubbed clean of blood. Evidently the crucifixes had served their purpose, their grisly ornaments showing us what Al-Hakam was capable of when he believed men had gone against him, or failed him. If we had needed a stronger message than that, we had received it at the bridge.

My head throbbed. We had been standing in the sun for a long time, but I thought the pain stemmed more from what I had seen. The demonstration of the destructive power of Roman Fire was terrible enough, but to see it consume living men had filled me with horror and dread. That one of those men was Rifat made me despair. My request that he be shown clemency had not only been ignored, but he had been subjected to further torment and suffering. And I could not shake the feeling that it had been a message to me; that I had caused his renewed agony with my intervention, rather than alleviating his pain.

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