Rasnake(4)

The brothers shrugged. "No one can see him. He was arrested a couple days ago for the murder of one of the missing girls, and once he tells them where he stashed the others, they're going to hang him."

"What—" Milton roared, and tried again to cross the drawbridge. When they tried to stop him, and were actually stupid enough to grab him to do it, Tallant ducked discreetly out of the way and fed Milton energy through their bond.

The soldiers were good, very good in fact, he would give them that. But Milton pissed off and worried about someone… if an entire band of robbers couldn't stop Milton in a temper, these two never stood a chance. Milton knocked the one off his feet with a punch the guy never saw coming, then drew his sword and rounded on the other, knocking the man's sword away and hitting him hard with the flat of the blade. When the other brother regained his feet and came at him again, Milton grabbed the first, threw him into the second, then ran at both of them and sent them over the side of the bridge, staring until they hit the water with a resounding splash.

Tallant rolled his eyes. "Peace, Milton. You'll get answers out of no one if you toss them all into the moat." He peered over the edge, watching idly as the brothers surfaced and began to climb out of the moat, hurtling epithets and obscenities up at them. "Not much on gate duty, are they?"

Milton snorted, and strode on.

The courtyard was almost entirely deserted; only a couple of servants, some chickens, and a tired old dog filled the space. That was strange enough for any castle, but for the castle of the Duke of Fendal? The wrongness grew deeper and stranger with every step.

He turned sharply, hand going to his sword, at the sound of movement, but relaxed as he saw it was an old, haggard looking man who could probably barely manage to lift a spoon. The man's eyes widened as they landed on Milton. "Bless me! Master Milton, is that you?"

"Henry," Milton said, sounding relieved. "A familiar face. Thank god. Where are Cecil and Irene? What the hell is going on here?"

Looking suddenly twice his age, Henry said, "A lot, Master Milton, and none of it good. But it's good to see you." He flicked a curious glance at Tallant.

Milton motioned impatiently. "Where is Irene? What is going on and what is all this bloody nonsense about Cecil in jail for murder—and what's with the dragons?"

Henry looked too weary to continue standing. "There's a lot to explain, I'm afraid. If you'll come inside—"

"I don't want—"

Tallant knocked him upside the head, and met Milton's subsequent glare unflinchingly. "Shut up and calm down. Listen to what he has to say, then we'll know how to save your brother, flik."

"Shut up," Milton retorted sourly, but motioned for Henry to lead the way. He led them into the castle, through to a private solar behind the great hall. "This place…" Milton looked horrified, weary. "It's all wrong. Why?" He sat down heavily in a chair that had seen better days, looking around the room, looked devastated.

Tallant leaned against a table in equally sorry condition, accepting the goblet of raw, dark wine Henry gave him with quiet thanks.

Henry drank his own wine, and sat down, saying, "A year or so after you left, Master Milton, Lord Marden went completely mad. He got so bad that Lady Irene conspired with the duke's council to lock him in his tower. He remains there now. Lady Irene assumed his duties, but not another year had gone by when the wards broke. Not far from here is a two mile stretch of land where the wards were suddenly gone. We have tried to repair them over the years, but haven't been able to manage it. Every time we try, the work unweaves itself again. The dragons came through…" He drifted off, clearly fighting tears.

He didn't need to explain for them to understand what must have happened. No one in this country had needed to fight dragons for nearly a hundred years. Hell, even back home, dragons were no longer a threat. He and Milton had avoided death the other night mostly because of dumb luck, and partly because they had a wide enough range of experience and knowledge lent them by their travels—experience and knowledge that soldiers of a safe, cozy kingdom in a quiet village would not possess.

"We lost more than I can bear to count," Henry finally said. "Her Grace sent many out to defend the nearby villages, but too many have fallen to those damned dragons. It was not until Rasnake and his friends—"

Milton frowned. "Why do you call Cecil that?"

"No one has called your brother Cecil in years, Master Milton. It was him and his thief friends what turned the tide, and have managed to hold the line all these years. Even now, they continue to protect us while Rasnake is locked up because of those imbeciles."

Tallant poured them all more wine, then gently prodded, "What happened?"

"Fifteen," Henry said sadly. "One at first, then two more, then three, on and on it went—and now Lady Irene herself. Fifteen young women just stolen from their beds without a trace. No one could find them, and we have scoured these woods and even farther afield, from beginning to end. We've never managed to turn up so much as a clue. Two days ago, some men were out hunting for food and found one of them. The youngest girl, the first to go missing, was found dead. She was wearing a ball gown and dancing slippers." Tears fell down his cheeks, and he pulled out a dirty kerchief to blow his nose. "She was only twelve. Her shoes were so torn up and bloodied, it looked like she had worn them out dancing, but she must have been running for her life."