I did, too, but that was a long time after.
We laughed wildly then, and slowed down as we forded the river and turned south onto the road toward Caer Tanaga.
9
“Bare is back without brother behind it.”
—Jarnish proverb
“She follows dark gods,” Urdo said.
He let go of the window frame, turned towards me, and strode back across the room, frowning. He had not been still since I mentioned his sister’s name. I found myself biting the skin between my thumb and fingers and pulled my hands together in my lap. I was here, and safe. Even if he did not believe me.
The journey had been uncomfortable. We had not known whether we were pursued and had spent the night in trees beside the high road. Every time we heard anyone coming we hid in the trees, or if there were no trees, in the ditch. My mother had often said I looked like a beggar’s brat, but I never looked more like one than that day when I first came to Caer Tanaga, the great city. I was stained and muddy and the front of my clothes were stiff with sour seeping milk. If it had not been for the great luck of Glyn being the day’s guard at the inner gates, we would never have got in. Now I was washed, Garah had dragged the twigs out of my hair, and I had borrowed Osvran’s second-best spare tunic. Even so I had found it difficult to persuade the clerks and servants that I needed to see the king urgently on business I would not disclose. They took a message at last.
I waited in the marble-floored hall, trying not to bite my finger or rub my sore breasts. Both these things seemed to make the clerks uneasy. He had to believe me. They brought me to his little office. There was a large table in the corner in place of the bed that stood in his room in Caer Gloran, but it was otherwise very similar. The parchments and writing tablets and maps might have been brought two hundred miles undisturbed and set down again in the same piles and drifts. Sounds of armigers at practice in the yard below drifted up through the window. He was sitting writing at the table when I came in. He greeted me kindly and with concern. I wished I had come with good news to strengthen his arm and not to make his burdens greater. When I mentioned the Lady of Angas’s name he sent the boy who was helping him out and told him to keep everyone away. Then he got up and paced while I told him my story.
“Very dark gods indeed,” he said again.
“I think it is worse than that.” I said. “I am almost sure no gods help her at all.” Urdo paused, both hands gripping the back of his chair. He stared at me.
“But the cost to her soul, to have it gnawed away? No gods at all?” His knuckles were white on the wood, and I thought the chair might break. “Using her soul to power the enchantment?”
I looked up at him as evenly as I could. “I have heard stories of such things, my lord. She called on no name but her own. I have never felt any power like that. She sent the gods of my people away like a flock of pigeons.” But they had come for me. She would not have eaten my soul and used it for her sorcery. If I had died they would have taken me down to the dark lands and given back my name. I would have lost this precious life, but I would have come back. Others might not be so lucky. I had to tell him, however much it distressed him.
“That is worse than I thought. But I cannot touch her!” He released the chair, and it tipped over with a sharp crash. He set it up again, patting it absently, then sat down, facing me. “She had done you a great wrong, Sulien, and would have done you a worse one if not for the shield of a god who never has only one purpose.” I breathed a sigh of relief and closed my eyes for an instant. He believed me. “She wove such a spell on me once, that took my will away. She could not do it now, the powers of the land would not allow it. I thought that made me safe from her, but I was wrong. She has wronged you badly, and you are sworn to me, I owe you protection and vengeance and whatever recompense I can make. But I can do nothing openly against her!” He bounced to his feet again and paced up and down the length of the room, his hands bunched into fists.
“This is intolerable! Her husband Talorgen is the king of Demedia, the Lord of Angas, the greatest clan of the north. Demedia is a great land. It is the largest of them all if you measure by paces, though far from the largest by hides of cultivated land, for the most part of it is mountains. High mountains, where the folk still live in the forts in the hills they built before the Vincans came. I have not been there, the people do not know me, and they look to their lord, as well they might. He is a good king, in his way, harsh but within the bounds of the law, they respect him. He has supported me, he has paid taxes and sent me his heir as pledge. I am well pleased with his son, who is now one of my best and most loyal armigers.”
He spun, rocking a fidchel board that sat on the edge of the big table ready to play, the white king in the center with his troops around him, the red pieces waiting at the edges to set up an ambush. “He has come south now to witness young Angas’s wedding and also to see if I have an ala for him. He is beset by Isarnagans from the Western Seas. I doubt not that he also fears Borthas to his southeast. He does if he has any sense. But if I speak out against his wife, even were she not my own sister in blood, it would mean war. We would lose everything, and it would be a bloodfeud to shame the old songs. Only the Jarnsmen would be victors in such a war, for Talorgen has many allies among the other kings. We might win the battles, but the kingdom would fall.”
He paused in his pacing and spun round to face me. “Do you think she means harm to the kingdom?”
I thought of her words in the darkness, and how I had been held still, incapable of even calling on the gods to aid me. I shuddered. The sounds of laughter and the clash of weapons sounded loud from below. The square of sunlight lay warm on the wooden boards, just touching the corner of my boot. Although the linen rubbed on my aching breasts and I was very weary, it felt good to be alive and breathing. “I have told you what she said to me as near as I can remember. I thought she wanted to know everything and control everything. She said it was a pity I was loyal to you, but she said she had always known you would be a great king.”
Urdo’s frustration was almost palpable. “I think she must be mad. What can one do with the mad who have power?” He frowned. “I could send her a priest, some priests strong in their own power who could stand against her. I wonder if I might get my mother’s priest Teilo to go to her. She might be a match for Morwen. In any case, I will speak to her. But I cannot let the kingdom take fire from this spark, Sulien. I will do what I can for you short of that. There is not always a way forward which keeps both honor and a whole land.” He looked tired. “I will go up to Thansethan as I planned, and speak to her. The Lord of Angas will have his ala, but I will not give Morwen back her son. I will honor young Angas with a command in the south, though he will need someone very steady as tribuno to balance him.” Angas. How would I ever be able to look him in the face again? “I will send Marchel north and make sure all who go are loyal to her and to me. I will have a blessing said over all of them that will be a protection. I will tell the queen I will allow no move against any of mine.”
“I wanted to warn you about her. And I wanted to warn other people. That spell works only on the unwary. It works because people trust her.”
Urdo sighed. “I will tell her I will not tolerate it. And see that all the armigers I send to Demedia are protected against such things.”
“I hope that’s enough. I do not ask for vengeance, and certainly not for war, but I would not like her to make any more moves against me.” Urdo laughed shortly and sat down again.
“She is not entirely lost to fear. That should have been warning enough for her. ‘And who shall say what is mine.’” He paused, and repeated the words of the gallows god again, more slowly, “‘And who shall say what is mine.’” He shook his head and looked back at me. “I will make sure that anything she may try openly against you is stopped. Tell me if there is anything I should know, at any time. Even warned, it might be as well to see that you and yours are protected in case she is fool enough to try more sor
cery, but I do not think she will.” I raised my chin in agreement.
“I will do that.”
“And your boy? Darien Suliensson. That form of name was brave of you.”
“I was angry with Father Gerthmol,” I muttered, looking down. The ache redoubled in my swollen breasts at the thought of Darien, who would not understand, who would not know that I had not come. “I asked the gods to look kindly on him as soon as he was born. He is safe enough with the monks, I think. She said he would be a great hero.” I smiled at this thought. Urdo raised one eyebrow slightly.
“Good. Then what do you want to do? If you wish it I will give you land and a lordship of your own. It won’t be anywhere safe, for I have nothing to give that is anywhere safe. You’d still have to defend it and support the troops you need, but it would be your own, your own land and name. That’s more than I have myself. That would be much less than you deserve from me for this.”
I was shaking my head before I’d even thought about it, whether it was supposed to be everyone’s dream or no. “No. Please no. I don’t want that. Really. I’d hate to be a lord. There’s nothing I want more than what I have, to serve you as an armiger, in the alae. I’ve been looking forward to coming back all this year. I’ve been practicing with the lance, as much as I could.”
Urdo gave me an unfathomable look. “Then I think you should stay here in Caer Tanaga for now. There are rumors of unrest in the Jarnish lands to the east of the Tamer, so there will be an ala here, and plenty of people training. I shall see that my sister does nothing against you.”
“I’d like that. There’s just one other thing. Her horse? I mentioned that I stole him? Garah was only doing what I told her. Will you take him into the ala? If I gave him back she would probably do the same again.” I wondered if there was a Horse Mother curse I could put on Morwen so that no horse would bear her again.
“Well with that small matter at least I can help you.” Urdo smiled a little. “It’s a greathorse?”
“Yes, a stallion, bay, nine or ten by the teeth. You should see his poor torn mouth, but it will heal.”
“Will he fight with your black?”
I laughed. “My Apple puts most horses to shame long before it ever comes to fighting, and this one is no exception.”
“Then I gift him to you. You will need more than one real fighting horse.” As I stammered out thanks, Urdo went on.
“My mare, Twilight, had a filly last year. She’s dappled like her mother, her father was black and white, his name was Pole Star. He’s dead now, I lost him under me fighting the Jarns this spring. We’ve called the filly Starlight. I’ll give you her, too. You can work with ap Cathvan to train her. That will give you three good mounts in a few years when you need them.” I opened my mouth again to thank him, but he continued, raising a hand but looking a little shy.
“I was wondering—I don’t mean to breed Twilight this year, I want to ride her, but next year—” I had already heard this request one way or another from half the armigers I knew who had mares. I knew what was coming.
“I’m sure Apple will be as honored as I am, my lord,” I said.
I went out past the clerks without looking at them though I did notice them staring after me and muttering. Raul was there, waiting, and he went straight into the king’s room as I collected my sword and went down the stairs. Urdo had told me to see ap Rhun, the key-keeper, who would find me a place in the barracks. I wanted to see the stables properly and also to go out to the fields and find my new filly. For that I would need ap Cathvan.
I went out through the archway and blinked. In front of me, a broad-shouldered heavy-bearded pale-skinned man was swinging a long ax at Angas. They both wore heavy iron Jarnish helmets with cheek guards, and heavy shoulder pads. The ax whistled down, and at the last moment, Angas leapt aside and swung up his ax, bringing it down just as heavily. The Jarn skipped out of the way, then called a halt.
“Uncover your shoulder to protect your head and you’re as dead as ever you were with a split skull. A long ax will reach under your collarbone to have your life. It can get to that point you young folk aim the lances for, if the armor doesn’t stand it, and if the armor does, near enough a broken bone or three and no long time of living for you that way either.”
I had found the practice yard. Angas saw me as he stood panting. “Hey! How did you get here?” he called. He grinned at me.
“You know how Uthbad One-Hand got his name?” I called. “I’ve never seen anyone playing chicken with their head before.” Angas laughed.
“The blows sort of glance off the helmet, if you’re not quick enough.”
“If the helm holds,” growled the other man, looking up at me. “In Narlahena we say if it doesn’t, it’s Wise Mother’s way of correcting her mistake in letting someone who learns too slowly come into the world.”
The older man’s voice went lower, and very serious.
“It’s the disadvantage of being a king’s son, Angas, you’ve never had less than that good coat of yours.” Angas’s armor was exceptionally fine, steel plates enameled red and green riveted to thick leather and covering from his elbows to his knees. “You learned in one, and your arms master would have done less than his job to teach you not to rely on the coat for what you could, fighting with swords. “These”—the long ax in his hand lifted in emphasis—“there is no stopping with armor. One of those heavy shields Urdo’s having made for you youngsters might take one blow, or it might not. No armor will withstand a long-ax stroke square on, not until you get stuff of Wayland’s wreaking. That’s why the hafts of these are strapped with iron halfway down from the head, you’ve got to reach past his stroke from the side for his neck or rap his knuckles well and solid sliding your haft down his to turn him; you can’t block, and you can’t bounce around so much fighting in a line, and you surely dare not wear the blow. You’re blooded, more than once, and you’ve seen these used against you, but keep trying to parry with your head, and I’ll put that helm over a post and show you why you oughtn’t.”
Angas raised his chin seriously. I longed to learn how best to use a sword against an ax. Angas turned to me. I had guessed who this warrior must be, but Angas confirmed my thought. “Have you met Marchel’s father?” he asked.
“Marchel’s father, is it?” said Thurrig, a deep furrow appearing between his mighty brows. “A renowned father of my own, two sons, one of them regrettably gone off to pray for his god, no small accomplishments earned in nearly fifty years of life, and I am introduced to a beautiful lady as the father of my daughter!” I laughed, and he laughed too, swinging the ax towards Angas, who skipped aside very nimbly indeed.
“Ah, but while you, your father, and your doubtless famed sons are strangers to me, Angas knows I have met your honorable and courageous daughter,” I said, still laughing. “And also your wise and accomplished wife.” I only meant to be friendly, and was surprised at the result.
Thurrig flung down his ax, but rather spoiled the effect by catching it by the haft before it had fallen as much as a handspan and then dropped it rather more gently onto the cobbles. Then he sat down hard beside it and put his head in his hands. “Alas!” he cried, quite loudly. “Why is it that whenever I meet a beautiful maiden, a beautiful armed maiden at that, a veritable Amazon, tall enough to spear swans out of the sky, why is it that when I meet such a creature even if my wife is two hundred miles away it turns out the woman has managed to meet her first!” I was laughing so much now I had to lean on the side of the gateway for support. Some of the other people practicing came over to find out what the noise was about. Angas slapped Thurrig on the back.
“It’d be a brave man who’d take on the daughter of Gwien, even if he were free to make her an offer,” he said, looking at me sideways, half-smiling. “You haven’t seen her in battle. Didn’t I tell you she charged alone towards three ships’ crews of Jarns?”
“So that’s who you are?” Thurrig sprang to his feet again. “My wife did tell me about you,
though how could she have left out so much, the hair, the breasts—” He gestured. As my hair was sticking out in frizzles all round my head as an effect of trying to pull the twigs out, my breasts were presently swollen like cow’s udders, and as Amala was the epitome of civilized manners, this didn’t altogether surprise me.
“Both have grown somewhat while she’s been away,” said Enid ap Uthbad, drily, coming up behind us. “Glyn will be enchanted.”
“Poor Glyn’s seen her, and he didn’t say a word,” said Osvran. “He just came begging me for my clothes so she didn’t distract Urdo in the middle of the afternoon by going in to see him naked. He took my tunic to the bathhouse. I think he will live, but the matter was in some doubt.” They laughed.
“Well it was kind of Glyn, and of you, too, and I’m looking after it,” I said, tugging the hem of the tunic. “I’ll give it back when my own clothes are dry.”
“At last I meet the woman with even less subtlety than ap Rhun,” roared Thurrig, picking up his ax.
“Watch out!” said Enid, as he swung it. “I don’t want a matching set.”
“I noticed the scratch,” I said. I could hardly have missed it, the great red scar curved down her cheek almost to her jawline. “You got it from one of those?” I nodded towards Angas’s weapon.
“Some Jarn with a great longing for death knifed the king’s horse from underneath,” she said. “And while I was turning around to see if Urdo was safely up behind me, his friend with the ax got a little too close on the left side. Nicked my cheek first, so I was leaning away and it came down through my shoulder blade from the back and not my lungs, which would have killed me for sure. It was that very ax Angas has there; Emlin picked it up for me. I’m fine now—”
“But when you come to the rally banner holding your friend’s hand but your friend’s cantering off in the opposite direction with the king on her horse behind her at the time, you think you might have a little problem,” said Osvran, grinning at her. “Why you didn’t faint with the lack of blood I’ll never know.”