A Hero's Tale

  When the go-between related this to the northern chieftains, they spoke among themselves for a long time.

  "I'm not sure it was the wisest thing to ask them to join us," I whispered to Maara. "It may appear to Merin's people that I have conspired with their enemy."

  "Or it may appear to them that you have overcome their enemy," she said. "That would be a powerful demonstration of your ability. Never forget that we are on the battlefield. This is Vintel's ground. To defeat her here you must prove yourself the stronger."

  The go-between turned back to me. "What will you offer for our help?"

  "My friendship," I replied.

  "That's all?"

  "I will not buy the peace between us or pay you tribute, as though we were a conquered people. Bru feels an obligation to you. I do not. Yet what I offer may prove of greater value than any reward you could demand."

  "What is that?"

  "An end to bloodshed."

  The young woman frowned. "You offer empty words."

  "Are your people not yet weary of this endless warfare?"

  "We are accustomed to it," she replied. "It's the way life is."

  "Is it the way life must be? Once before in living memory our people thought otherwise and reached out in friendship to each other."

  "We have not forgotten," she said. "Nor have we forgotten that it was your people who broke the peace."

  "And my people swear that it was yours. Shall we debate who was at fault or shall we make a new start?"

  "What advantage would we gain by making peace?" she asked me. "Are we then to sit quietly at home and comfort our children's hunger with stories of your friendship?"

  She was right, yet if I gave them anything, I wanted to give it freely, as to friends, and not in payment, as to overlords or mercenaries.

  "It's an odd sort of strife between us, isn't it?" I said. "Every year your raiding parties take a portion of our grain and cattle, and every year we let some of our goods go, because what we lose is not worth dying for. Yet we die anyway. My friends have never found me mean-spirited or careless of their welfare. A gift of friendship is not tribute."

  She was wise enough not to ask me what they might expect. She understood my meaning. What we lost in grain and cattle hurt us little. It was the loss of life that broke our hearts, and they too paid in blood for what they took from us. If we would still lose grain and cattle, but save our lives, both sides would be the better for it, and if we could keep our hands innocent of blood, we would give them no new cause against us.

  The go-between related my offer to the northern chieftains. This time they had little to say to each other. I had an idea that they had already made up their minds, but meant to keep us in suspense. The wolfskin chieftain got up and left the council fire, and the others soon followed him. At last only the go-between remained.

  "They will speak with the others," she told me, "and give you their answer in the morning."

  "Remind your chieftains," I said, "that a generation ago a few among our people made a careless choice, and their children have paid the price for it. I offer you that choice again. This is your day to choose."

  90. Reasons

  Once the northerners had left the council fire, Maara suggested that we go to bed, as we would have an early start in the morning. Although it had been two days since Bru had slept, he escorted us to our tent, so that he could talk with us privately.

  Bru had left us Elen's tent. Her camp bed was gone, but her comforters and featherbeds were spread out on the floor. An oil lamp burned beside them. When we had all settled ourselves, Bru asked Maara to tell him everything that was said in our negotiation with the northern chieftains.

  "What do you believe they'll do?" he asked, after he had heard her out.

  "They know where their best interests lie," she said. "They'll be with us in the morning."

  "I don't much trust that fellow in the wolfskin," said Bru. He turned to me. "And I'm surprised you trust any of them."

  Maara had told him a little of the history of my people's dealings with the northerners, including the alliance that led to the last war.

  "I trust neither the northern tribes nor those of Merin's people who may still hold a grudge," I said. "If I welcome any of the northerners into Merin's house, I will take care to guard each against the other."

  Bru gave me a sidelong glance and scratched his beard. "Are the people of Merin's house not always kind?"

  "No more kind than anyone else in a dangerous world," said Maara.

  Bru waited to hear the rest of what he felt she was about to tell him.

  Maara looked at me. "Nothing could make him more your friend than he is already," she said. "Let me tell him to whom he owes his life."

  By asking my permission, she had told him already.

  "Do what you think best," I said.

  Maara turned back to Bru. "It was Tamras who persuaded Merin to let her prisoners go."

  Bru didn't seem surprised. "Does Merin always consult her daughter in matters of state?" he asked.

  "I'm not Merin's daughter," I said. "Merin has no children. I am the daughter of her shield friend."

  "And at the time," said Maara, "she was hardly more than a child. She had just begun her apprenticeship in Merin's house, yet Merin had the sense to heed what she knew to be wise counsel, though it came from an unlikely source."

  "Why did you keep this to yourself?" Bru asked me.

  "I didn't want you and your men to risk your lives for me out of a feeling of indebtedness," I said. "What Merin did for you was not an act of selfless generosity. It was also to our benefit, and almost without risk."

  "That's not quite how I remember it," said Maara. "As I recall, compassion had a lot to do with it."

  "If it was compassion that first prompted me," I said, "I have been well rewarded for it."

  "I hope your compassion has taught me a little wisdom," said Bru. He sighed. "I could almost wish that your people will be foolish enough to reject you. I'd prefer to take you home with me. I've been an outlaw all my life. How will I suddenly become a king?"

  "You are a king," I told him. "You'll soon find your way. And I thank you for your offer of refuge. If Merin's people choose Vintel, I will certainly take you up on it."

  "And all your friends are welcome too, of course," he said. He frowned. "Perhaps it's too soon to be thinking of this, but if you do go home, will you take my son with you? He will be a king himself someday. I can think of no better place to foster him than with you."

  "It would be an honor to foster him," I said. "I only hope he can find a teacher who can keep up with him."

  Then I thought of Kenit, whose energy never failed him and whom I hoped to find still among Merin's people. The memory of Kenit's face brought with it the images of many others. I felt their presence, as if the people of Merin's house had crowded into the tent with us. All winter they had lived in my memory as they had been in times past. Now they became real again.

  When Bru left us alone, I turned to Maara.

  "Why were you so eager to tell Bru all my secrets?" I asked her.

  "Bru has a high regard for you already," she replied. "Knowing that you saved his life will not increase it or make him feel any more indebted to the one who brought him out of exile. The men who follow him are something else. They have no reason to believe they owe their good fortune to anyone but Bru. Before our confrontation with Vintel is over, they may have to risk their lives for you, and I want no man among them to hesitate."

  "That's exactly what I didn't want," I said. "I don't want anyone to die for me."

  "And I would put the whole world to death before I let death come for you."

  She meant it, and there was nothing I could say to answer her.

  "Are you going to scold me?" she asked.

  "Yes," I said. "Next time don't stand at the head of the line."

  And suddenly I was truly angry with her.

  "I was wrong," I said. "This is not my fault. It'
s all your fault. If you hadn't left me, none of this would have happened."

  Maara looked at me as if I'd struck her. "No," she said. "None of this would have happened. We would not be together, not now nor ever again. If we had been lucky, we might both be enslaved somewhere far away. More likely we would both be dead."

  I knew she was right, but I was too angry with her to tell her so.

  "And Bru would still be an outlaw," she went on. "The mighty would still be lording it over the common folk of Elen's house, and the northern army would be murdering our friends and overrunning Merin's land."

  "We could have found another way."

  "At the time I didn't see another way."

  "You should have told me about your plan."

  "There was no time. Anyway, you would have tried to talk me out of it."

  That was true.

  Maara said nothing more. She sat watching me, as she so often did, waiting for me to see what I was overlooking. I thought I knew what it was.

  "I don't mean to sound ungrateful," I told her.

  "I don't want your gratitude."

  "What do you want then?"

  "I want you to understand."

  "What is there to understand?"

  "Nothing is that simple. I had my own reasons for doing what I did, and I think they were not entirely unselfish."

  Her gaze slipped past me, as her mind searched out a way to tell me what she barely understood herself.

  "Don't you want your life to count for something?" she said at last.

  "I never thought about it," I said.

  "Of course not. You never doubted that your life was important."

  "Everybody's life is important."

  "Not mine."

  "Of course it is."

  Hadn't I just loosed chaos on the world to save her life?

  She shook her head. "If you had known me before I came to Merin's house, you would not have thought so. It was all I could do then to get from one day to the next. I had nothing to offer anyone."

  "That's not true."

  "I know that now. When I became your teacher, I began to see that the life I had lived gave me things to pass on to you that none of the others would have known or thought of. And I saw things in you that none of the others knew how to value. More than anything, I wanted to watch you achieve the greatness I saw lying like a seed within you."

  Then I knew what she had been getting at. If I failed to fulfill my destiny, it would be her failure too.

  "I wanted it too much," she said. "I wanted it so much that I knew the gods would take it from me. So I gave it up."

  "That was never what I wanted," I told her. "Greatness means nothing to me. If greatness is a dream of yours, you had better set about achieving it yourself."

  "It isn't in me," she replied. "Nor did I ever want it for myself. To be the handmaid to greatness is enough."

  "If you had died, it would all have been for nothing anyway."

  "Why?"

  Not without love, I'd told the gods. If gods there were.

  "Whatever destiny you believe awaits me," I said, "I wouldn't want it, if you were not a part of it."

  "Don't be silly," she said. "I'm not immortal."

  I shrugged.

  "What I if die of winter sickness?"

  I smiled at her. "Life hasn't asked me that question yet."

  "But I think life has asked you many others."

  "Too many to talk about tonight."

  I started to untie the thong that held my wolfskin, but I couldn't see it well enough to undo the knot. Maara reached out to help me with it. I caught her hand and kissed it.

  "Does that mean you're not angry with me anymore?" she asked.

  "It means that it doesn't matter if I'm angry with you or not."

  "Oh."

  She took the wolfskin from me and set it aside.

  "I'm not," I said. And I lay down and opened my arms to her.

  91. Battle

  It was still dark when Bru woke me.

  "Get up!" he said. "Get up and arm yourself!"

  "What?"

  "She's almost here."

  "Who?"

  "Vintel."

  I wished for a cup of nettle tea, to clear the confusion from my head. For a moment I wondered if I might still be dreaming.

  "Hurry up!" he said. "If she's an hour's march away, I'd be surprised."

  "How many are they?"

  "Don't know," Bru replied. "It was too dark for my scouts to see them all, but they heard them from quite a distance."

  Maara was out of bed already. She helped me up.

  "I'll get your army on its feet," Bru said, and left the tent.

  "How can Vintel be here?" I asked Maara. "How did she know where we were?"

  "I imagine she followed the retreat of the northern army," said Maara. "When they turned back, she may have thought they were running away."

  That was the only explanation that made sense to me.

  Outside the tent, Finn was waiting for me. He handed me my bow and quiver. The first light of dawn glowed on the eastern hills.

  A band of warriors approached us. Three score of Bru's best men, including every man who had been Merin's prisoner, soon stood before me.

  "Your guard," said Finn. He took my arm and whispered in my ear. "Last night Bru asked for volunteers. When they learned that it was you who spoke for them, each one insisted on a place beside you."

  Maara had been right. Any of these men would give his life for me. It would be up to me to ensure that no one did.

  My guard escorted me to the edge of the encampment, where Bru awaited us. It hadn't taken long for the army to make ready. The men stood in groups around their leaders, waiting for someone in authority to tell them what to do. Then I realized they were waiting for me.

  "Where is Vintel?" I asked Bru.

  He pointed to the southeast. It was the direction from which the northerners had come to meet Elen's army.

  "The hill where we gathered yesterday," Maara whispered. "Set a strong anchor there, with the rest spread out in a line along the hilltops."

  I knew the hills she meant. They extended from the highest hill, the same hill where we had met the northern army, away toward the northeast, in the direction of the battlefield. Another range of hills met them at an angle, leaving a narrow pass between. When I first saw the battlefield, I understood Elen's strategy. The two lines of hills had acted as a funnel, and she had enticed the northern army into it, giving her the advantage from the beginning.

  "Call my captains," I said to Bru.

  When they had gathered around me, I told them where to deploy their men. They were to separate into two groups, each one to form up on the high ground, along each range of hills. They too had read the battlefield, and they knew at once what I wanted.

  I reminded them that we were not there to fight.

  "No one is to show himself until I give the signal," I told them. "Stay out of sight, just behind the hill's crest, and keep your eyes on me."

  I asked for someone to bring me a banner. Matha stepped forward at once, holding high a standard. From it hung a banner bearing a wolf's head. I didn't have an opportunity then to ask him how he came by it, but I had an idea that he had taken some trouble to find it for me.

  "My guard and I will bait the trap," I said. "When you see us raise this banner, have your men show themselves. Don't look as if you're about to charge down on them. I don't want to frighten them to death or make them run away. Just stand there easily, leaning on your swords. Remember, though they appear to be the enemy, they still belong to me."

  "What about the northerners?" Bru asked me.

  "Are they with us?"

  He nodded.

  "Good," I said. "I want their chieftains to come with me. Have them bring their go-between along. Let them bring a few hundred of their warriors too, and send the rest to the hilltop where they waited yesterday. Make sure they understand that they must stay hidden until they see the others
show themselves."

  "Why bring so many of them with us?" Bru asked. "We don't know them. There's no telling what they'll do."

  "They're the enemy Vintel expects to fight," I said. "They're what she expects to see."

  "Will they obey you?"

  "We'll soon find out," I said. "They have pledged themselves to follow me. I might as well discover now how well they keep their promises."

  Bru told the captains to prepare their men. They ran to carry out their orders, and soon everyone in the camp began to move.

  "Wait here a moment," Maara told me.

  "Why?" I asked.

  But she had left me already and was running back to the tent. She went into it and came out again at once, holding my wolfskin. A young man with a bandaged arm and shoulder stepped into her path. In less time than it takes to tell, I nocked an arrow and drew my bow. I set the arrow's tip in the center of the young king's back.

  Maara saw me. The young king glanced over his shoulder, to see what she was looking at. He met my eyes. Slowly he turned around and showed me his empty hands. I lowered the bow.

  "What did you think you were doing?" Maara asked me, when she returned to my side.

  "Better safe than sorry," I replied.

  "Not to worry," Maara said. "He begged my pardon for believing Elen's lie. And he offered you his help. He is unfit to fight himself, but he has a hundred men still able to bear arms." She moved closer and said in a low voice, "I think you should accept his offer."

  I nodded, and Bru went to speak with him.

  Maara draped my wolfskin around my shoulders and tied the thong that held it in place. Before I could ask her why she wanted me to wear it, she put the wolf's head up over mine and said, "If you pull this thing down to cover your face, can you still see out?"

  "Yes."

  "Good. I don't want Vintel to know it's you until she comes to parley."

  "Why not?"

  Maara grinned. "Let's surprise her," she said.

  The march to the hills took more time than I thought it would, and it took even longer for our warriors to reach the hilltops. I was afraid that Vintel would appear before we were ready for her, but at last everyone was in place.