The Dragon Horn Page 12

  Ivan reached the old oak tree at the top of the slope. The tracks led toward the pines. In the darkness, he couldn’t spot the knight.

  Stribog whined. The others grew tense.

  Ivan squinted and squinted some more. He set down the club, with the handle sticking up for easy grabbing. Then he lay out the net and picked it back up, ready for throwing. He unleashed the hounds, but they stayed by his side. Ivan remained motionless for about a hundred heartbeats. His gut roiled the entire time. Then he saw a dark shape head toward him. It came from the pines and seemed to follow the tracks. Could it be Karlo, and if so, should he stay where he was?

  The hounds slunk back, baring their fangs. Their fear combined with their hate told Ivan Karlo must be approaching.

  I’m no warrior. I’m a dog trainer.

  What would he do if Karlo were a bear? He wouldn’t run away, because a bear could run him down before he reached the holding. Maybe some people thought bears slow and clumsy. For short distances, however, a bear could outrun a horse. He’d stay and net Karlo if it came to that and brain him with the club. The idea of that made him tremble. There wasn’t any way around it now. He was scared, very scared. Ivan almost dropped his net and ran anyway. Stribog looked up at him then. It was like a slap in the face. He couldn’t show himself a coward in front of his hounds.

  “Ho! What’s this I see?” Karlo’s strong voice shouted out. “Are you truly holding a net?”

  Ivan wondered how the knight saw so well in the dark. That frightened him. All he saw was a dark blot about sixty feet away. The man’s night-vision was close to miraculous.

  Stribog growled. The other hounds leaned against Ivan’s legs, their fangs barred, their hackles straight up, their manner one of fear mixed with hatred.

  “Who are you?” Ivan shouted.

  Karlo cursed as he marched nearer. Moonlight gleamed off his drawn broadsword. “You’re a stupid youth. Perun was right about that.”

  “Sir Karlo?” Ivan asked.

  Karlo laughed. It was a nasty sound. “Oh, so it’s pretend time, eh? As if you didn’t know that it was me you tracked.”

  Ivan tried to steady himself. Without Stribog, it would have been impossible. “Yes. I tracked you. Will you try to kill me for it?”

  “Ha! Try to kill you. No. It’s do I kill you or not?”

  Ivan could think of nothing to say to that.

  “Or do you think that your hounds can save you?”

  Ivan almost made a bold reply. Then Stribog’s growl changed as a hint of worry entered it. The dog backed up a step. It almost seemed as if he sensed…

  Ivan squinted. He wasn’t sure, but it seemed several long and deadly shapes slunk in the distance behind Karlo. They looked like wolves.

  “You grow silent, boy. Why?” The voice utterly mocked him.

  Ivan ran a dry tongue over cold lips. He forced himself to speak. “Are you going to kill me?”

  “Why shouldn’t I?”

  Karlo walked near, to about ten paces away. He seemed to ignore the hounds. If there were any wolves, they hadn’t yet come into full sight.

  “Kill me,” Ivan said slowly, “and you won’t get your farmers.”

  “Maybe not so stupid,” Karlo said. “Yes. You have a point. Still, after you go running in with this tale, maybe everything is already ruined.” White teeth showed in the darkness. “This comes down to just how smart you are, boy.”

  “Milord?”

  Karlo laughed. “You’re not a stubborn lout, after all. Maybe if you were better trained…” The knight sheathed his sword and squatted on his heels. “Why not set down your net. It’s making people nervous.”

  “People?”

  Karlo shrugged. “A turn of phrase.”

  “You’re nervous?” Ivan asked.

  Or does Karlo mean whomever he went to see? Suddenly Ivan knew that Perun had been giving and receiving messages through the leather pouch hidden under the rock.

  “You’ve an open face,” Karlo said. “I can almost see your thoughts as they come into being.”

  Ivan lowered the net. Then he, too, squatted on his haunches. “What do you want to tell me?”

  “Join me,” Karlo said.

  “Milord?”

  “Come with us into the Old Forest. Earn some silver coins.”

  Ivan laughed. “No thank you, milord. I prefer Belgorod Holding.”

  “Yes. I can see your point. Hounds don’t like me and you like them. I suppose you’d miss your hounds.”

  “Even more, I’d miss being alive.”

  Karlo chuckled. “Well put, boy. You have wit as well as spirit.”

  Ivan realized that Karlo was trying to charm him. Should he play along?

  “Listen to me,” Karlo said, all warmth and charm forgotten. “There are a few things you’d better consider before you make your report. Firstly, I have the king’s writ. If harm comes to me, eventually the king will learn about it and send his knights here. Murder is met by hanging.”

  “Murder?” Ivan asked.

  “Yes, as hard as it is to fathom how Sir Volok and his motley crew could overcome my men and me, it would still be looked upon as murder. Perun and his boys are trained men-at-arms, trained killers. Belgorod Holding has nothing to compare, except maybe for your dog there, your tall one. He’s a warrior, a fighter. The rest of your hounds, they seemed infected with Belgorod’s weak spirit. Perun and his boys could probably slay everyone here by themselves, but they also have me along. As Perun stands above Belgorod Folk, I stand above Perun. Yury calls himself your friend. The squire knows something about real knights. That’s what I am. I’m a knight, not a farmer pretending to be one. Even more, I’m a champion of more than ten jousts. Not the tame jousts they have here. I’m talking about Frankish jousts. Knights die or are maimed for life in those contests. In those jousts I’ve always been the champion.”

  “I understand, milord.”

  “Do you? Do you realize that if I decide to draw my sword, that no one in Belgorod Holding can stop me? If I order my men, then blood will run. Master Volok, Lady Belgorod, Magda, the escort, the woodcutters, everyone dies. Oh, they could fight, but in the end, it won’t matter.”

  Karlo’s arrogance shook Ivan. “So what are you saying, milord?”

  “That you’d better be careful what you report. You’ll be the first to die. Then who will look after Nadia?”

  Ivan heard the mockery. He still managed to say, “What are your plans for her?”

  Karlo said nothing. Stribog looked more alert. “You still don’t understand, do you? I am in command here. Become impertinent one more time, and you will die. Then I will slay everyone. For Nadia’s sake, I put up with these indignities. I will not take her against her will. I know that’s your fear. She I cherish.” Karlo laughed softly. “Strange, isn’t it? I cherish again. It feels…” He coughed, then he drew his sword and stood.

  Ivan jumped up, grabbing the net and getting his hands entangled in it.

  “What do you say?”

  Finally untangling his hands, Ivan asked, “Milord?”

  “What are you going to report?”

  Ivan chose his words with care. “Milord, I must do what I was trained for. I thought I heard something. I found and followed tracks. Then I found you outside the fence. I should probably give them a reason why.”

  “I see. Yes. I thought I heard a wolf. I came to kill it. I wanted its skin for Yury.”

  “May I ask you a question, milord?”

  “Ask.”

  “You aren’t planning a raid, are you?”

  “By the Wretched, what do you take me for? I’ve eaten here. Of course, I don’t plan that. You deserve a thrashing for even suggesting it.”

  Karlo truly sounded angry. Ivan believed him, and that was important. For he couldn’t keep quiet if he thought Karlo meant to slay everyone here. He could keep quiet, however, if by doing so he was saving lives.

  “Very well, milord, I will do as you suggest.”


  “Good. Now leash the hounds before they try something stupid and I’m forced to slay them.”

  “At once, milord.”

  -13-

  Ivan dreamt about storm wolves and Perun. They chased him through a spectral forest of black, leafless trees. Perun ran among the storm wolves. They were massive beasts with red eyes. When they howled, it sent shivers down Ivan’s spine. He sobbed and pleaded for them to leave him alone, all the while running through the forest in his bare feet.

  “Spy!” Perun roared. “Come back here, you sneaking little spy!”

  Then nets fell from above, entangling Ivan, trapping him. He thrashed and cried out, and cried out some more.

  “Little spy!” Perun howled. “You’re mine!”

  “No!” Ivan shouted. All around him, hounds bayed. Vaguely, as sweat soaked his face, he became aware that he kicked at his blanket as the kennel reverberated with noise. He realized then that he’d been dreaming—no! He’d been having a nightmare.

  “What an awful dream,” he said.

  “Ivan?”

  He saw Janek rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

  “Why are the hounds barking, Ivan?”

  “Go to sleep, Janek.” Ivan arose, hushing the hounds.

  The kennel door swung open. Petor with a drawn sword stood wide-eyed at the entrance. Behind him, the peeking dawn sun showed itself.

  Ivan stared stupidly, not understanding. Petor, sword-point first, stepped through and—

  “Petor! Don’t move!” Ivan shouted.

  Petor froze.

  “Step back,” Ivan said. “Slowly.”

  “Why?”

  “If you hit the line a bear-net will drop on you.”

  Petor stared at the floor. His eyes widened. He looked up at the bear-net hung over the entrance. He chuckled ruefully. “Ah, Ivan, you’re a clever lad. You had me worried there, what with your hounds going wild.”

  “I had a bad dream,” Ivan said, donning a tunic and putting on some breeches. It came to him that Petor must have come running. “What did you think was happening?” he asked.

  “What do you think?” Petor said. Carefully, he made to step over the line.

  “No. Don’t do that,” Ivan said. “You’ll hit the second line. Here, let me unhook the trap.”

  “Ah, a clever lad indeed,” Petor muttered.

  “Should I get up now?” Janek asked.

  “No, go back to sleep,” Petor said. “I’ll give you another two hours before you start your chores.”

  Janek grinned sleepily, pulling the blanket over his head.

  Ivan knew he wasn’t going to be so lucky. He unhooked the trap, toed Stribog, picked up his club and followed Petor outside. He saw snowflakes drift down from the sky, which startled him. It had been clear last night. Looking up, he saw a dreary canopy of clouds.

  “What happened last night?” Petor asked.

  Ivan stood very still. He studied the gloom. The peeking sun didn’t light up much. Sir Karlo or his men could be hiding anywhere. Stribog idly licked up snow. That convinced Ivan that it was safe to talk. Before he spoke, however, he noticed that the sun would soon climb high enough to hide behind the cloud cover. The snow almost seemed too convenient, like the weather was meant to cover up last night’s tracks. Combined with the lingering of his eerie dream, his thoughts made him shiver in fear of the supernatural.

  “Ivan?”

  “I’m sorry, Master Petor. I was thinking about my dream.”

  “Was it a bad one?”

  Ivan nodded. He was hungry. He dug a bit of jerky from his pocket and started chewing.

  “Do you have any more?” Petor asked.

  Ivan tossed him a piece.

  “I asked you about last night for a reason,” Petor said, talking as he chewed. “The escort slept lightly. I think you can understand why. Do you know what she saw?”

  Ivan shook his head.

  “Can’t you guess?”

  “Sir Karlo?” Ivan said slowly.

  “Yes, Karlo wore a cloak, had his sword and wore gloves. He slipped out the back door while everyone else was asleep. The escort waited for Nadia, but she never showed. So the escort checked her room, waking up Mary. Nadia slept soundly.”

  The escort’s actions surprised Ivan. He decided that maybe the escort knew her business after all.

  “What I’d like to know,” Petor said, “is what Sir Karlo did after he slipped outside.”

  “You think I know?”

  Petor gave him a level stare. The pleasant features had hardened, the mustache stiffened.

  “He told me that he thought he heard a wolf,” Ivan finally said.

  “A wolf?” Petor asked with a frown.

  “He wanted to kill it and give its skin to Yury.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  “Well...I tracked him up the hill to the old oak tree. We spoke there, but I didn’t see any wolves.”

  “What do you think he really did?” Petor asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to.”

  “Why not?”

  “Master Petor,” Ivan said, “I think Karlo is a forceful warrior. I think he knows what he wants and will kill anyone who stands in his way.”

  “Including me?” Petor asked.

  “Anyone. Or maybe everyone.”

  “Ah,” Petor said, brushing his mustache. “Now I understand. Yes. Your actions make sense.” He shook his head. “Trust Magda to have it right once again.”

  “...you mean.”

  “Yes?”

  “What do you think Karlo told me?” Ivan asked.

  “It doesn’t matter. My father is bound by the king’s writ. He gave the farmers fair warning. They made their choice. Unless Karlo does something rash, we can’t forbid the farmers to go with him. Nor, according to you and Magda, would it be wise to thwart him in this matter.”

  That Magda and Petor and no doubt Lady Belgorod knew most of what happened made Ivan feel better. In fact, it made him feel so good that he blurted, “I think I sensed wolves last night.”

  “When?”

  “When Karlo went out there. I think...I almost wonder if he can control them somehow.”

  “What?”

  “Well, like I can control my hounds.”

  “You’ve been running with Yury too long,” Petor said with a laugh that sounded forced.

  Ivan thought about what he’d said. It did sound like something Yury would make up. “You’re probably right,” he said.

  “Still, maybe we should check,” Petor said. “There have been an awful lot of wolves around lately.”

  Ivan realized that if they took hounds, nets and horses up by the pines, that Karlo would know he’d talked. Would that send Karlo into a rage? Would he draw his sword and slay everyone in Belgorod?

  “I’ll check it out myself,” Ivan said.

  Petor took his time. “Karlo has you worried, eh?”

  Ivan shrugged.

  “All right. You check it out.” Petor lowered his voice. “If you want the truth, he has me worried, too. I’ve listened to a few of his tales. If even half of them are true then he’s a knight I never want to tangle with.”

  The admission surprised Ivan, and it made him realize something. “You fear him, but you came running anyway when you thought he might be in the kennel.”

  “I’m a knight,” Petor said stiffly. “I have responsibilities. You, too, have responsibilities. Now I’m giving you a new one. Keep Nadia from leaving with Karlo.”

  “What?” Ivan asked, shocked.

  “I know. It’s a heavy responsibility. But you have wide shoulders.” Petor paused. “This isn’t just me giving you this responsibility, either. Magda requested it and Lady Belgorod agreed.”

  Ivan spluttered, “What makes you think I can stop her?”

  Petor laid a beefy hand on his shoulder. “You may not know it, but Nadia has always liked you. Oh, I know, you were friends. But once she reached...well, when she got older her feelings for
you changed. Those feelings are still there. At least that’s what Magda thinks. You obviously act like a mooncalf around her. So there’s no doubt how you feel.”

  Ivan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It made him mad and glad all at once. It made him mad that Magda, Petor and others spied on him and his feelings. It made him glad to think that Nadia would actually like him in that way. Then reality sunk in.

  “I don’t compare to Sir Karlo,” he said.

  “Well, neither do I,” Petor said. “But I think you like me better than him.”

  “Of course.”

  “And how do you know that you don’t compare to him? He can swing a meaner blade. He’s stronger.”

  “And smoother,” Ivan added.

  “That comes with age and training,” Petor said. “Besides, I didn’t tell you try to marry Nadia. Just make sure she doesn’t run off with Karlo.”

  Ivan fidgeted. Had that been a rebuke? “I’ll try my best,” he said.

  “Succeed rather,” Petor said.

  Ivan digested that. “Can I give you a piece of advice, Master Petor?”

  Petor raised his eyebrows before nodding.

  “I’m sure Magda, you and Lady Belgorod have already talked about this, but...I’d be very careful about Sir Karlo. Don’t anger him. I think he’s serious about Nadia—” Petor grunted at that. “So I don’t think we should make him think that we’re trying to thwart him.”

  “Do you think you’re cleverer than him?” Petor asked.

  “Huh?”

  “That’s what you’re suggesting. That we play a more clever game than him.”

  Ivan hadn’t thought of it like that. “Well, all I’m trying to say is that we don’t anger him.”

  “Or?”

  “Or maybe he’ll release his men and draw his sword.”

  “And burn down Belgorod Holding?”

  “Something like that,” Ivan said.

  Petor brushed his mustache. “Do you think he can do it?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Which is your way of saying yes,” Petor muttered. “Very well, I’ll keep your advice in mind.” He turned to go. “I’ll send Feodor out to help. After that, you work on your new responsibility. Do it for one day and one night, for tomorrow they leave.”

  “Yes, Master Petor.”