I'd never given it any thought, but it didn't seem like Namet to place blame without reason.
"No," I told her. "Eramet died in battle. Namet knows that."
Sparrow looked puzzled. "The elders never concern themselves with the affairs of warriors."
"Why not?" It seemed to me as though they should.
"The elders perform their rituals and consult the powers of life and death. They tell the Lady what they learn and give advice, but they never charge a warrior with a duty as Namet did. It's the Lady's place to do that."
Of all the elders, I thought Namet the least bound by custom. She would do what seemed right to her, whether or not it went against the way things had always been done before.
"I trust Namet's wisdom," I said to Sparrow. "She had reason to do what she did, even if we can't see it."
I did see it, but there was much that Sparrow didn't know.
I had no opportunity to speak with Maara that day or for many days afterwards. It was even more difficult to find any privacy in a traveling band of warriors than it was within the walls of Merin's house. At least when we were at home, we could go off by ourselves for a while. The members of a warrior band had to stay together, especially when we drew close to the frontier. Maara and I slept side by side, but we were always within earshot of the others.
Since I couldn't speak with Maara, I puzzled over everything that had happened in my own mind. I didn't understand Vintel's bullying attitude toward Maara when we came home, but Vintel certainly knew that she had been bested by Maara's calm and reasonable replies to her accusations. That must have made her angry, and it would have made Namet's charge to watch over Maara that much more difficult for Vintel to accept.
While it was sure to increase Vintel's resentment of Maara, it also cast a light on her intentions. Harm can come to warriors easily enough, but if any harm came to Maara now, and if it appeared that Vintel had failed in her duty as she had once before, she would be risking more than was prudent. At the very least she would lose face, but she stood to lose much more than that. She stood to lose the loyalty of the warriors who trusted her with their own safety. That was a price Vintel would never pay.
Once we set out, Vintel didn't concern herself with us. She treated Maara no differently than she treated anyone else. Because of our late start, we camped that first night well within our own borders, but still we set a watch, and Maara took her turn with the rest.
Although the apprentices weren't expected to stand watch, there was plenty for us to do. In addition to keeping our warriors' gear in order, we made and broke camp. We fetched water, gathered firewood, lit the fires, cooked the meals, and cleaned up afterwards.
Sparrow and I worked side by side. We had a few moments together when we could have talked privately, but I didn't take advantage of them to speak with her about Vintel. I never forgot that her loyalty was to her warrior, as my loyalty was to mine. I hoped that we would never come into conflict over it.
By the middle of the second day, we reached the northern boundary of Merin's land. The country there was hilly, its thin soil too poor for crops, though much of it was fine pastureland. As we traveled north, the grass became more sparse. Only gorse and bracken covered the ground, while a few trees tried to grow. The landscape that now stretched before us, drab in shades of grey and brown, seemed a different world from the one I knew. I might have imagined such a place from tales I'd heard, but never had I seen with my own eyes such a desolate land.
I felt uneasy when Sparrow told me that Vintel intended to take us into this wasteland. Claimed by no human tribe, this hostile place wanted no part of us. I could almost believe the tales of travelers who had been swallowed up by treacherous bogs or by the hidden mouths of caves that opened under their feet. If such places did exist, this was one, but in the folded hills Vintel hoped to find the hiding places of our enemies. On the morning of the third day, we ventured into the wilderness.
For several days we traveled without incident. As this strange landscape became familiar, I took pleasure in exploring it. What had appeared at first glance to be a barren place was full of life. Small furry creatures scurried about in the underbrush. Hawks drifted in the still air.
Sometimes we saw antelope nibbling at the tiny leaves of shrubs. They moved with the delicate grace of dancers, and I would have liked to sit quietly somewhere and watch them, but whenever we happened upon them, they bounded away.
Colors were subtle here. In boggy places small white flowers, star-shaped, lay strewn upon the ground. Bushes the color of smoke bore the most delicate of leaves. The morning mist blurred the boundaries of waking life and dreams.
Even in this crowd of people, I felt alone. The small band of warriors Laris had taken to Greth's Tor seemed more like a group of friends on an outing. Vintel's band felt very different. When we camped, there were few friendly conversations around the campfires. More often we heard boasting or heroic tales of warriors who had died in battle. Once, while we were listening to a particularly bloodthirsty tale, I heard Maara murmur, "Whistling in the dark." At the time I didn't know what she meant.
With two dozen warriors and almost as many apprentices in our band, it sometimes seemed that everyone was working at cross-purposes. People who had lived peacefully together in Merin's house became ill-tempered and contentious.
Vintel permitted the disorder to a point, but when a few sharp words became an argument, she would appear in the midst of the combatants and with a few words would end it. I had to admit, however grudgingly, that she had a knack for managing her unruly band. She spoke with the certainty that she would be obeyed, and everyone obeyed her.
Late one afternoon we found a deserted campsite nestled hidden in a dale. Vintel sent several warriors down to take a closer look at it. One man knelt by the fire pit and held his hand over the ashes, then sifted them through his fingers. Another examined the ground, while another searched through a dense thicket nearby, using his sword to move the branches aside. When they finished their inspection, they waved to the rest of us to join them.
"They were going north," said one. He pointed to the impression of a cart wheel in the soft earth.
"How does he know which direction they were going?" I whispered to Sparrow.
"From the depth of the track," she replied. "The cart was heavily laden. I've never known a raiding party to carry goods into Merin's land, so they must have been carrying grain, our grain, out of it."
"Will we go after them?"
She shook her head. "They're long gone now. No one has been here for several days."
I was about to ask her how she knew that when she pointed to the remains of the campfire.
"See how the surface of the ash is pitted?" she said. "A light rain fell after their fire went out, and we've had no rain for the last three days."
We made our own camp not far from the northerners' campsite. Although there was no sign that anyone but ourselves inhabited that corner of the world just then, I hardly slept at all. I was glad to see the sunrise so that we could move on.
It seemed to me at first that we were wandering about aimlessly, but after a while I saw that we were crisscrossing this empty land, going from one vantage point to another, steadily working our way west. After a week in the wilderness, we were running short of food, so we turned south again, toward one of our outposts, where we could rest and replenish our supplies.
The next afternoon it rained. We hurried on, hoping to reach our outpost by nightfall. We would find shelter there, and warm fires, and some hot supper. Wet and shivering, we arrived at last, only to find the camp deserted and the fires cold.
"Where is everyone?" I asked Sparrow.
"There must be trouble somewhere," she said.
Sparrow shook the rain out of her hair and drew her damp cloak close around her.
A few of the apprentices were already at work with their firestones. The shelters were nothing more than oiled hides stretched over flimsy poles, but they turned aside t
he rain, and the warriors huddled under them. All but Vintel. She stood out in the open, her head uncovered.
"Something isn't right," she said, as she looked around at the deserted campsite.
I saw nothing amiss. There were no signs of fighting. Tools and cooking pots were stacked neatly in their places. Everything seemed to be in good order.
"The stores are gone," said Sparrow.
Then I saw that in that whole camp, not one cooking pot or bowl had any food left in it, and the casks that should have held our stores of salted meat and flour were nowhere to be seen.
"We'll not stop here," Vintel said. "Laris and her warriors should have been here waiting for us. Until we know what's happened to them, we'll camp somewhere less conspicuous."
No one moved. The warriors gave no indication that they were willing to leave their shelters. The apprentices waited, to see what the warriors would do. Vintel paid no attention to them. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her head and strode out of the camp. She never so much as glanced back over her shoulder. After a moment, with only a little grumbling, her warriors followed her.
We walked until it was too dark to see where we were going. A light rain was still falling. Vintel allowed no fires, so we ate a cold supper of stale barley cakes and lay down to sleep wrapped in our soggy cloaks. We were all so tired that in spite of the damp we slept quite well.
In the morning Vintel sent out half her warriors in groups of two or three to look for Laris's band. She also sent two of the apprentices south to the nearest farm to replenish our supply of food. We would have to be careful of what little we had left, as they were unlikely to return before the evening of the following day.
Sparrow and I tried to make something edible out of the last of our barley and salted beef. Now that it was daylight, Vintel allowed us a small cooking fire. We soon had a watery soup simmering, and Sparrow found some wild onions to give it a little flavor. When it was ready, Vintel came over and squatted down by our campfire. She held out a bowl for me to fill.
"Do you hunt as well as you cook?" she asked me, when she had taken a sip of the broth.
"I'm not a hunter," I replied.
Vintel took another sip, then felt around in the bowl with her fingers to see if there might be any meat in it. There wasn't.
"Too bad," she said. "Hungry warriors can be unpleasant."
"Maara is a hunter."
Vintel pursed her lips. "Can't let her out of my sight, can I?"
"Why not?"
Vintel just looked at me, as if of all people I should know what she was thinking.
"She won't run away," I said. I tried not to sound as angry as I felt.
Vintel's lip curled. "And what would her mommy say if any harm should come to her?"
Then I knew that Vintel was trying to provoke me, for what reason other than her own amusement I couldn't imagine, and I refused to answer her.
Sparrow had fished a piece of meat out of the soup pot. She slipped it into Vintel's bowl. Vintel smiled at her, and I caught a glimpse of something I had never seen in her before. I saw genuine affection in Vintel's eyes. For a moment I thought a little better of her.
Then she said to me, "Take your bow, little hunter, and take any warrior you like to watch over you, but Maara stays here."
"Then Tamras stays here." Maara's voice came from behind us. Neither Vintel nor I had heard her approach. Together we turned and looked up at her.
Vintel set her bowl aside and stood up. "This is not the time to challenge my leadership."
"I am a warrior, yours to command," said Maara, "but Tamras is mine."
Vintel and Maara were beginning to draw a crowd.
"My warriors need meat," Vintel said.
"Then I'll do my best to bring them some."
"If you intend to run off again, it would suit me very well, but right this moment I dare not risk it. Until I know more about the situation here, you'll stay where I can keep an eye on you."
"Would I break my mother's heart?" said Maara.
It was well said. Those who heard her murmured their approval.
"Would you?" Vintel replied, and at once she knew she had made a mistake. Some things should never be called into question, and the love between mother and child is one of them.
Before the situation could go from bad to worse, Lorin stepped forward and said to Vintel, "I'll go along with Maara, if you like."
I was glad Lorin was with us. Ever since he had kept Maara and Vintel from fighting the day Vintel tried to take my brooch, he had been a friend to us. He was one of the warriors who sometimes sat with Maara in the great hall, and he always treated her with respect.
Vintel hesitated.
"As you say, we need meat," Lorin said. "This woman is a hunter, and right now we need her skill."
Vintel saw that she had no choice. "Take care she doesn't turn her bow on you," she said.
I would have liked to go with my warrior, but I knew better than to ask. Lorin waited while Maara took my bow out of its case and fastened my quiver to her belt, alongside her sword. Her shield was too cumbersome to carry. She set it down with the rest of our things.
As I draped her cloak around her shoulders, I whispered, "Take care."
She reached up to fasten it, and her hand brushed mine. It was trembling. I met her eyes. She didn't deny her fear or try to hide it from me.
"Why?" I whispered.
She shook her head. There was neither time nor opportunity for a private conversation.
"You take care too," she said.
As I watched them out of sight, cold fear lay in my chest like a stone.
Sparrow handed me a bowl of soup. "Vintel doesn't mean half of what she says."
"Why does she say it then?"
"It's just her way."
Her way. I knew other things that were Vintel's way. I knew of a prisoner, traveling under safe conduct, who had been taken from among his friends and murdered. If not for Namet's charge, would Vintel have tried to do the same to Maara? Or to me?
36. Fear
Late that afternoon two of our scouts returned with the news that they had found Laris. They reported to Vintel privately. Then Vintel called everyone together.
"Laris and her warriors arrived at our outpost six days ago," Vintel told us. "They found it occupied. A band of northerners was encamped there. They had at least a dozen of our cattle with them and a cart heaped high with grain."
"That must be the cart that made the track we saw," Sparrow whispered in my ear.
"Laris thought it better not to challenge them until we joined her," Vintel said. "She sent one of her warriors to give us warning. Clearly he never found us."
"Who was it?" asked one of the men.
"Only one man alone?" said another.
"She had fewer than a dozen warriors in her party," said Vintel. "She could hardly spare the one. She sent Breda. He's young and strong, well able to take care of himself. We'll send scouts out after him tomorrow. Or maybe he'll have the sense to know he's missed us and come back."
"Where has Laris been?" Sparrow asked her.
"She took her band to the cliffs."
I hoped I would remember to ask Sparrow later where the cliffs were.
"Are the northerners gone home then?" someone asked.
"Some have," Vintel replied, "but Laris sent out scouts to watch them, and she says more have come. There may be as many as half a hundred altogether. They have separated into raiding parties, but before they take their booty home, they will all meet somewhere. We should deal with them now, before they gather their strength together."
It took me a moment to understand that Vintel intended to confront these northerners. I hoped that we might have the luck never to encounter them. Then I was ashamed of myself for being such a coward. What else were we doing there but trying to keep our enemies from taking what was ours? If their bands were camping in the open on our borders, and even in our outposts, they needed to be taught a lesson. Otherwise the
y would only become bolder.
Several murmured conversations had started among the warriors. Vintel hushed them. "We'll keep a watch on the approaches to our outpost, as well as on the trails leading north into the wilderness. Tomorrow Laris will join us here." She grinned. "When the northerners return from their raiding, they will find a surprise waiting for them."
It was past midnight when Lorin returned with Breda's body. Sparrow and the other apprentices had been long asleep. The warriors were sleeping too, all but the sentries. Sparrow had tried to get me to go to bed, but I insisted on waiting up for Maara. I was becoming more and more afraid for her.
I must have been dozing a little. I didn't hear the sentry's challenge or Lorin's answer. I looked up to see Lorin carrying something over his shoulder. At first I thought it was a deer.
Gently Lorin set Breda down.
"Where is he hurt?" I asked.
I reached for my pack, where I kept my remedies.
Lorin shook his head. "He's past healing."
I looked down at Breda's peaceful face. He wore his old tattered cloak. I wondered if he had ever found a new one. He wouldn't need it now.
Lorin sat down wearily and stretched his hands out to the fire. I peered into the darkness, looking for Maara.
Lorin saw my fear for her.
"She's right behind me," he said. "She'll be here in a few minutes."
When I heard her coming, I went to meet her. She was carrying the carcass of a small deer.
"Go and wake Vintel," she said.
When I returned with Vintel, Maara had joined Lorin by the fire and was busy butchering the deer.
Vintel knelt down beside Breda's body. "How did this happen?"
"We found him not far from here," said Lorin. "Maara thought we might have better luck in open country, where we could see the game, if there was any, so we went north, back into the wilderness. We finally found a small herd of deer, and Maara brought one down, as you can see."
Lorin rubbed his eyes. He looked exhausted.
Maara didn't look much better. I knelt down beside her and took the knife from her hand. She sat down across the fire from Lorin, while I cut thin strips of the tenderest meat and laid them on the hot coals.