The Heirs Of Hammerfe

  "As your Grace wishes."

  He went out into the rain, quickly returning, beckoning the footmen to open doors for the litter carriers. As if it were a million miles away, Conn noted distantly that the rain had made a wreck of Gavin's elaborate costume and coiffure, but he seemed not to notice. The littermen stooped, gently brushing King Aidan aside.

  "By y'r leave, vai dom, we can lift her; it's our work, an' we're better at it than you. Easy, there; tuck the blanket round her legs. Now where do we carry her, me lord?" They had not recognized the king and it was probably just as well, Conn thought. Aidan gave quiet instructions and started out with them, walking beside the litter like any other elderly man worried about his suddenly ailing wife. He went to the king's side and asked, "May I summon your chair, sir? You'll gel. yourself drenched and catch your death of cold." Then he stopped, abashed; it wasn't his place to speak so to the king.

  Aidan looked at him blankly. "No, dear boy, I'll stay with Antonella; she might be afraid if she called out and didn't hear a familiar voice near her. But thank you; now do go in out of the rain yourself, lad."

  The rain was slackening somewhat, but Conn realized he was already soaked; he hurried back inside.

 

  The porch was crowded with Erminie's guests taking their leave; the queen's collapse had quite effectively broken up the party.

  Remaining in the hall were Alastair and Floria, still standing side by side before the fireplace, Floria looking down, stunned, at Antonella's ring on her hand; Erminie, moving dazed from the exodus off the porch; Gavin, even more drenched than Conn, , rubbing his hair with a cloth a footman had brought him; Edric Elhalyn and Fiona's brother Gwynn, looking troubled; and Valentine Hastur, who had stayed to see what he could do for Erminie in this sudden disaster.

  "An evil omen for your handfasting," said Gavin, coming up to Alastair. "Will you continue?"

  "We have no witnesses now, except our footmen," Erminie said, "and it would be an even worse omen, I think, to speak on over the queen's fallen body."

  "I'm afraid you are right," said Edric. "That she should fall stricken just as she gave you a wedding gift, Floria!"

  "I am not superstitious," said Floria. "I think we should go on with the handfasting-I do not think the royal lady would grudge us that. Even if this should be her last act of kindness-"

  "All Gods forbid," said Erminie and Edric speaking almost together.

  Conn thought of the kindly little old woman he had hardly seen; and of the king he had suddenly learned to love, who had called him "dear boy" even when so troubled, and sent him in out of the rain.

  "I cannot think a handfasting at this moment would show respect," Edric said, and looked regretfully at his daughter. "But we will have all the more merry-

 

  making at the wedding, which shall follow-" he looked at Erminie. "When? At Midsummer? Midwinter?"

  "This coming Midwinter," Erminie said, "if it wins your approval, Alastair-Floria?" They both nodded. "Midwinter, then."

  Alastair kissed Floria respectfully, such a kiss as a man might exchange with his promised wife in the presence of others. "May that day come soon when we shall be forever one," he said. Gavin came over and offered them congratulations.

  "It seems a long time since Alastair and I used to chase you round the garden with spiders and snakes," he said, "but it was really only a few years. I think you much improved since those days, Floria; your jewels become you better than a striped pinafore. Lady-" he bowed to Erminie, "I am wet through; will you give me leave to go?"

  Erminie started out of preoccupation, "Don't be foolish, Gavin; you are all but a son in this house. Go upstairs, and Conn or Alastair will find you something dry to put on, and then we will all go to the kitchen and have some hot soup or tea."

  "Yes," said Alastair. "And I must set out before first light for Hammerfell."

  "Mother," implored Conn, "tell him this is folly! He does not know the mountains, nor so much as the road to Hammerfell."

  "Then the sooner I learn it, the better," said Alastair.

  Conn had to admit that what he said was true but felt compelled to continue his protest.

  "The men do not know you and will not obey you; they are used to me."

  "Then they, too, must learn," said Alastair. "Come,

 

  brother, this is my duty and it's time for me to start doing it; that I haven't done it before was wrong perhaps, but better now than never. And I want you to stay here and care for our mother. She has only just gotten you back; she should not lose you again so quickly."

  Conn realized there was nothing more that he could say without giving the impression that he was indeed refusing to give up the right to the position which was in fact his brother's-or that he was reluctant to care for his mother, or to do the duty his brother and lord assigned him.

  Erminie said, "I don't wish either of you to go; but I know you must, and also, Conn, I think Alastair is right; it is high time he took up his duty to his people. With Markos at his side there is no question the men will obey him, once they know who he is."

  "I am sure you are right," Conn said. "You had better have my horse," he added, "she is mountain bred; that fine lowland mount of yours would stumble over the steep paths she must travel, and die of the cold on the first night. My horse may not be handsome, but she can carry you anywhere you must go."

  "What! That rough-skinned brute? She is no better than a donkey," Alastair said lightly. "I wouldn't be seen on the beast."

  "You'll find in the mountains, brother, that neither a man nor a horse is judged by his coat," Conn said, sick to death of this never ending argument he had with his brother. "The mare is shaggy for the weather she must endure; and those fine clothes of yours will be torn to bits by the briars along the mountain paths. I think after all I had better ride with you and guide you."

 

  "By no means," said Alastair, but his thoughts were clear to Conn. Markos still thinks of Conn as the duke and his lord; if Conn is there, I will never gain his total allegiance.

  Conn said softly, "You wrong our vassal and foster-father, Alastair; when he knows the truth-and sees the tattoo which he himself set on your shoulder as the mark of the rightful duke, his allegiance will be entirely yours."

  Alastair hugged him impulsively. "If all the world were as honorable as you, my brother, it would frighten me less. But I cannot hide behind your strength and your honor; I must face my people on my own. Indulge me in this, brother."

  "If this is what you feel you must do," Conn said, "all Gods forbid I should prevent you. Will you have my mountain-bred horse, though?"

  "I am more than grateful for the offer," Alastair said with real warmth, "but I fear she cannot travel as fast as I should make my way."

  Gavin Delleray came back into the room as he said this, wearing one of Conn's old coats which hung on him like a baggy tent. His hair had been roughly rubbed dry and was standing up in shaggy elflocks all over his head; a greater contrast to the perfect foppish appearance he had presented earlier would hardly have been possible. He said, "I would offer to go with you myself and guide you, my friend, if I knew the way any better than you. But if my services- here or in the Hellers-are any use to you, Alastair-"

  Conn smiled at the thought of the slight, dandyish Gavin on the mountain roads. "If he will not accept me as a guide, nor the services of a twin brother, he would probably not accept yours either," he said

 

  almost ruefully, but then he thought: Gavin, at least, is no threat to his power at Hammerfell.

  Alastair smiled and laid a hand on Conn's shoulder and on Gavin's. He said, "I think I should go alone; I must not need protection. But truly I thank you both for your offers." He turned to Erminie who approached them and said, "Mother, I need the fastest horse in our stables. In fact, what I truly need is a magical steed from the fairy tales you told me when I was a child. You bear magic, Mother; can you put it at my service now to bring me s
wiftly to Hammerfell?"

  "All the magic at my command is yours, my son," Erminie said, and held out her hand to Edric Elhalyn. You may certainly have any horse in my stable; but I do agree that your brother's mountain-bred horse is best for you; I can more easily enhance a mount already suited to the nature of its task-maybe I can give you your magical steed after all. . . ."

  Conn nodded, and Alastair climbed the stairs to the room which had been his when he was a small child. Several of his abandoned toys stood there, a few brilliantly carved toy soldiers, an old stuffed creature, more shapeless than a doll or a dog, made of wool, with which he had slept till he was seven years old; and, shoved into a corner beneath the window, his rocking horse.

  He remembered riding many leagues on it when he was very small, clinging to its painted wooden neck; even now he could see where the paint had been worn away by the grip of his small sweaty hands. He looked at the toy soldiers and laughed, wishing his mother had it in mind to try and bring

 

  them to life and send them after him as armies. He did not doubt that she would if she could.

  He remembered how often in his youth he would climb aboard the old rocking horse and head away northward-always northward-seeking, so he said- the way to Hammerfell. Once he had nearly set the house afire with a pan of coals from the nursery hearth, after which he had been strictly forbidden to make anything but toast on the proper toasting-rack, but otherwise he had not been punished, because his tearful excuse had been, "I was trying to make clingfire, and burn down old Lord Storn's house the way he burned ours down."

  Quickly he changed out of his fine holiday suit, getting into a plainer suit of clothes, and went downstairs, throwing an old cloak over his shoulders. Turning his back forever on his childhood.

  Downstairs, he found a startling change; the remains of the refreshments had been cleared away, and his mother had changed from her festival gown into an old technician's working robe, a simple long-sleeved tunic of pale green.

  "Would there were more magic I could summon to go with you and guard your path, my son; but at least I can give you not only a magical mount, but a special guardian as well-Jewel shall go with you." They followed him into the stable-yard; the rain was dying down now to an occasional squall, Alastair could smell the freshness of the blowing wind, with ragged clouds showing occasional glimpses of one or I he other of the moons.

  Erminie beckoned to the old dog Jewel; she sat holding out her starstone and looked long into the

 

  dog's eyes, and Alastair had the curious sense that they were talking about him.

  At last she said, "I thought at first to-I can give her human form if you wish; that is a simple enough magic; at least with a starstone. But she would be too old for a warrior, and it seems to me that in her natural form she would be more use as a guide. Even if I should change her to human shape, it would be only a seeming. She would still be a dog- she could not speak with you, and she would lose her keen hearing and sense of smell. At least as a dog, she can bite anyone who threatens you, while if she should do so as a human, it would-" Erminie hesitated and laughed. "It would be likely to provoke some remark."

  "I should say so," said Alastair, bending to hug the old dog. "But does she know the way to Hammerfell?"

  "You forget, my son, she was bred there; she can guide you there more dependably than any human guide. And she will warn you, too, if you promise me to listen to her."

  "I am sure at least she would be more faithful and loyal than any other guide I might have," Alastair said, but secretly he wondered how his old dog could possibly warn him and how he would understand her if she did.

  Erminie patted Jewel's head and said softly, "You love him just as much as I do; take care of him for me, my dear."

  Jewel gazed up into Erminie's eyes so intently that Alastair was suddenly no longer skeptical; it was obvious to him that his mother and the dog were communicating more clearly than with words. He no

 

  longer doubted that when the time came she would communicate with him, too.

  He was not at all sorry to know that the dog who had been part of his life since he was an infant too young to remember was to share this adventure With him. "Well, is she to ride behind me on my saddle?"

  All the telepaths there-and even Alastair who was not, really-heard to their surprise what was almost a voice.

  Where he can ride, I can follow, running at his heels.

  "Well-if you can do that, old girl, let's get going," Alastair said, astonished, and clambered into the saddle of Conn's sturdy, but now subtly different, little mountain-bred horse; he gazed into Jewel's eyes and for a moment it seemed almost that he was speaking to the shadow of a woman warrior, like some of the Sisterhood of the Sword whom he had occasionally seen in town; almost a shadow hovering over Jewel. Did his mother's magic know no bounds? No matter- he must treat it as real. He straightened in his saddle, and bowed to his mother.

  "All the Gods guard you, Mother."

  "When will you come back, my son?"

  "When my men-and my fate-will it," he said, and slowly walked the horse to the stable door. Once outside he dug his heels into the horse's flank; rough she might be, but she was a sturdy and a willing beast. Beneath his hand he felt her shudder, understanding, it almost seemed, the task before them.

  They watched him ride through the little courtyard. Only Conn, who had been waiting in the hall, had the presence of mind to fling the huge spiked gate open; if he had not, it was clear that the horse,

 

  now with powers far beyond those of natural creatures, would have leaped clear over it.

  The horse passed through, already galloping, the dog loping noiselessly with magically youthful strength at his heels. The sound of the galloping in the street outside died away quickly. Erminie stood looking out the open gate, tears streaming down her face.

  Conn said under his breath, "Damn, I wish he had taken me with him. What will Markos say?"

  Valentine Hastur said moodily, "You raised a stubborn son, Erminie."

  "Why do you not say what you truly think?" she answered with spirit, "and call him headstrong and thoroughly spoiled? But with Jewel to guide him, and Markos to support him, he will do well enough, I am certain."

  "Whether or no," Edric said, "he is gone, and the Gods must protect him, or not, as his fate demands."

  They went into the house; but as the remaining kinfolk departed, Conn stayed in the courtyard, his eyes questing restlessly along the road taken by his brother, ever north toward the faraway peaks of Hammerfell.

 

  10

  Alastair clung to the neck of Conn's horse, still hardly believing in the mission which had called him away from everything he had ever known. The rapid galloping beneath him held a soothing rocking motion and he thought of childhood days when he had clung like this to the neck of his old rocking horse, rocking himself into a trance, frequently falling asleep on the horse's neck. He felt he could do so now, but if he did, he might wake to find this had all been no more than a bizarre dream and that he had fallen asleep at one of his mother's boring entertainments.

  So swiftly he rode that before he knew it he had reached the gates of Thendara, and a voice challenged from the little guardhouse. "Who rides in the dark there, at this godforgotten hour when the city gates are shut and honest men within doors and abed?"

  "As honest a man as yourself," said Alastair. "I am

 

  Duke of Hammerfell, bound north on a mission that cannot wait for the daylight."

  "So?"

  "So open the gates, fellow; that's what you're here for, isn't it?"

  "At this hour? Duke or no duke, these gates don't get opened till daybreak-not if you were the king himself."

  "Let me speak to your sergeant, soldier."

  "If I go an* wake up the sergeant, he'll only tell ye the same, Lord Hammerfell, and then he'll be angry wi' us both."

  "I am not afraid of
his anger, but I suppose you are," Alastair said. "It is a pity, but--Jewel, climb up behind me on my saddle."

  He felt the old dog scramble up behind him, snuggling hard against his waist. He muttered, "Hang on-I mean, balance yourself, old girl."

  Had he forgotten how high the city gates were- fifteen, twenty feet? In the dreamy sorcerous state he was in, it never occurred to him to doubt the horse's powers. He felt the horse gather herself together for the leap, shouted to Jewel, "Hold on tight!" and felt the world fall away beneath him as they went up and up-it seemed to him that they vaulted halfway to the shining moon and that he could see its greenish crescent fall away behind him . . . they fell for what seemed hours, then he felt the horse strike earth as gently as if she had cleared a log, no more. Jewel slid from the saddle and was running behind him again, her footfalls silent on the uneven paving of the road.

  He knew he was far outside the city, without any very clear idea of how he had come so far, so fast.

 

  He raced on into the darkness, knowing that his horse-or his mother's magic-was placing its feet unerringly with no possibility of a stumble.

  Sometime before dawn he passed Hali, heard his horse's hooves ringing on the stones of Neskaya, and just as the dawn turned rosy in the east and the great crimson sun came up like a bloodshot eye, he saw the gleam of the River Kadarin flowing like molten metal before him. To his surprise, the mountain horse plunged into the flood and swam smoothly, well-trained muscles breasting the waves like a sea creature, scrambling up smoothly at the far bank and resuming her swift stride without visible pause or hesitation.

  Behind him Alastair saw Jewel scramble from the water, running in a long, lean, effortless lope at the horse's heels. He had crossed the Kadarin-two days north of the city-within a single night!

  Now they were past the country he knew; he had never come so far into the hills. For a moment he wished he had his brother to lead him; but Jewel was his appointed guide. Jewel! When had she last been fed? "Sorry, old girl," he said, "for a minute I'd forgotten about you." He stopped the horse in a wooded glen and dismounted, his knees trembling. Inside a saddlebag he did not remember filling, he found an assortment of cold meats and bread, and a flagon of wine. He shared the meats with Jewel, and drank some of the wine; he offered some to Jewel, too, but she snorted, running off to drink deeply at a spring, then came back and curled up at his side, her head in his lap. He thought of remounting; but realized that although his horse and dog seemed fine, not even winded, he was trembling with fa-