“We have more than us two. With us are warriors who will fight. But it is as it was when I slew Devol and you lived. Let us lie back and wait. The storm may pass by. It may hold off longer. We must chance that and wait outside until those within make up their minds. Let them lay hands on the dalesfolk and their victims may count us for friends when we attack. At the least they will think we could not be worse and will side with us in the battle.”
“I do not like it.”
My temper flared abruptly. “Think you I do? To stand by while women are abused in such ways as those men will choose? But at least they will live and, the Gods willing, we will bring them out alive. Can we not then offer them a place in Landale if they come with us? Of what use would we be to them if we attack openly and are slain? Then will they be still abused with no aid and no hope of another home.”
Lorcan bowed his head to my anger. I saw that he agreed, yet it wore hard on him as it did on me. I hid my own horror of what I could soon see. I remembered too well what Neeco and his friends had planned for me. It had been only by the aid of my wing-friends that I had escaped that. I felt tears gather in my eyes. My dales, my home. All our land. When would it recover, when would the dalesfolk be safe again and brutes like these dead? Lorcan’s arm slid about my shoulders as he pressed his mount closer.
“Meive, I’m sorry. I spoke in anger and I was wrong. Please. Do not cry. It hurts me to see your tears.” I lifted my face and found a watery smile as he dabbed at my cheeks with gentle fingers. “Don’t cry, Meive.” His voice faltered. “I hate to ask it of you but you must watch what happens for me. I cannot see as you can.”
“I know.” I sniffed inelegantly. “I will watch. Should we let the horses graze and rest?”
We dismounted, slackening the girths and freeing the animals of their bits so they could graze. Beside a hollow in the rock which held water from the last storm I saw another of the tall rocks. It stretched up like a warning finger pointed to the sky. Some of my wing-friends alighted upon the surface; I felt what they felt then and bit back a cry. There was power yet in this one. Called by the winged-ones it now called to me. I glanced about, but Lorcan was out of sight watching the shelter. I advanced to lay my hand very softly against the warm stone.
It turned chill. That was not what was wanted of me. I slid into hive-mind. It appeared as if the bees could speak more clearly to that which lay in the stone. What then was asked of me? I queried. Dimly came the answer. The place ahead had once been shelter of another kind. Now human beasts laired within. Let me lay against the stone my sword and see what would be. I obeyed in silence, watching as a faint glimmering of light glowed within the stone. It ran like water onto my blade and vanished. The feeling of presence faded and as it did so I believed it had been female. Not of my kind, but female and sister in power none the less.
I sheathed my sword and rejoined my comrade, saying nothing of events. Lorcan took up a position watching along the section of path before the final bend. Between us we should be alert to the outlaws’ departure if such should occur. I wished it would. If they left, then those others within the shelter might be safe. But I had lived through the deaths others of the bandit kind had brought. They would not leave while there was prey.
So it was. The outlaws had built high the fire so that the shelter was warm. For that reason my warriors could lurk in the heat above the beams and watch even though night fell and it was chill outside. I spoke of what I saw as tears ran down my face and Lorcan turned away from my distress. The outlaws broached the first of the two barrels, drank deep of some drink I could see intoxicated them. Once mad with the drink they turned upon the women. I think the oldest of the women must have counseled obedience. None fought, but went meekly to their temporary masters.
I saw as little as I might and yet know what occurred in case we must act. When at last the outlaws left a man on guard while the others lay down across the door and slept, I could cease to see. Then I laid my face in my hands and wept while Lorcan strove to hold and comfort me.
“Meive, Meive. None have died?”
“None, but, Lorcan, what I have seen …” I turned on him then, my outrage and the grief I still felt at the loss of my home and family finding a target. “What beasts are men. I swear if ever you think to use me so I will slay you.” He released me and gave back, his face twisting in horror.
“Meive? What are you saying? You are my leige-lady. I am sword-swom. Rather would I fall upon my own blade than harm you.”
So great was the pain in his voice that I believed him immediately. Son of a tainted line he might be, but my Lady of the Bees had sent me to aid him. I did not think she would have done so if she thought him evil. And I, had I not ridden many months beside him? Lain down at nights beside him as a comrade in safety? I was wrong to accuse him. I said so and wept again while he held me gently.
“Forgive me, Lorcan.” His hand lifted my chin so that I must meet his eyes.
“It is forgiven. Listen to me, my leige-lady. I know with Neeco and his friends, what you would have suffered if you had failed to kill them. And here, I am aware of what you have been forced to see. Think you I, too, have not called such men brute-beasts? Nay, worse, for beasts do not so abuse their own females. I understand your distress at what you have watched.” He sighed very quietly.
“I, too, have cried out in anger at the nearest one when I saw evil. It is forgiven and forgotten. Now let us make plans that we may save what we can from bandits who are neither decent men nor innocent animals.”
So we plotted. Their guard drowsed and while he did so Lorcan slid through the night to steal away the mounts and pack-ponies. We hobbled these behind us in a curve of the hills and took from them their gear. Should any outlaws escape us it would take time to find their mounts and ready them to ride. My warriors watched the outlaw guard but he did not hear the faint sounds as Lorcan led away their horses. Had the man moved to raise the alarm he would have died, the words stopped in his mouth. With the horses safe we waited, my winged-ones intent on those below them in the firelight.
The guard slept openly now, while in the far side of the shelter the old woman opened her eyes. She reached out, waking those who slept about her. Silently they began to seek for weapons. I hissed. Lorcan returned as I spoke swiftly.
“I think they will fall on the outlaws while they sleep.”
“They’ll die,” Lorcan assured me grim-faced. “Those men are wolves. They sleep light. The first raised weapon and they’ll rise ready to slay. The people there have no weapons of their own.” He looked at me. “If we give aid at the right moment things could be different.”
“I know. I have told my warriors to creep down.” They would do as they had done once before. Crawl upon the clothing of the enemy until they reached the throat, or some other deadly target. When I called them they would strike, injecting poison into the bloodstream of those they fought. The outlaws were well clothed and most had donned their mail again after their sport. But the warriors, though large for their kind, were yet small enough to reach uncovered skin with their darts.
Within the shelter the dalesfolk were moving with caution. One held a sickle, another a hammer. Two had eating knives, while one of the girls had wound a length of thin rope about each hand as a strangling cord. Their faces were hard with outrage and hatred as they closed slowly. I thought it likely even if we did not aid they would give a fair account of themselves.
Lorcan and I caught up our mounts again, tightening their girths and bitting them ready before mounting. I watched through the winged-ones eyes as we sent the horses walking slowly along the track. In the shelter the old woman lifted her sickle and advanced. Our mounts rounded the bend so that ahead of us lay the shelter. We reached the door, dismounting to stand, as I held Lorcan back, awaiting the right moment.
Within the shelter the sickle flashed down. Lorcan had been right about the outlaws. Even as the sickle blade curved through the air the outlaw leader rolled aside. His hand sei
zed his sword hilt, his face feral with the killing hunger. But fortune had granted us time. Many of the winged-ones had found unclad skin and clung ready.
As the outlaws roused to attack I called my warriors. They struck even as the dalesfolk closed in to kill or die. Had it been the dalesfolk alone they would have fallen quickly before the outlaws. But it was not. Even as I bespoke my wing-friends Lorcan tore open the door and struck from behind. An outlaw fell with a groan. I set my back against the door and guarded Lorcan, mine not to attack but to shield.
Within the shelter all was bloody confusion. One of the women was down, dead from a single blow. Two women I thought to be her kin attacked the killer. They could not drag him down with farmers’ tools but they kept him too occupied to break away. With their attack made I had called back my warriors. Most of the outlaws carried at least one sting. That would not slay them at once but it slowed their strokes.
Three of them were dying, however. Even as the dalesfolk reached them the outlaws gasped for breath, choked, and fell. Seeing himself trapped and his men dying for no apparent cause, the leader gave a great shout of fury. Before we could prevent it he had flung himself forward, sword-blade licking out. A girl and the lad died before any could save them.
But we had the renegades well snared. They could neither pass us at the narrow door, nor escape the fury of those they had outraged. They died one by one, until two remained: the leader and another. That second man came at me, teeth bared, seeing only a slight lad to bar the door, Lorcan having stepped a little aside to engage the outlaw leader. My sword crossed blade and in that moment I felt a flow of strength pour into me. I found my own lips curling back as I struck.
Light flared weakly about my blade. In the shadows the people we would save gaped and whispered. I snarled, a low growl of hate. I remembered those I had buried, the faces of my kin, my friends. Light flamed higher as I struck. It could not be. I was a girl against a full-grown trained soldier, yet I held him back. He fought in growing desperation—and could not pass. Something took my arm, twisting it cunningly. I obeyed and my enemy’s sword spun from his hand. He lunged to seize it and I ran him through.
I backed, and moved to join Lorcan, who battled the last man, leader of the evil ones. We would have taken the man alive: there were questions Lorcan at least would have wished him to answer. But the man was a rabid beast and fought until we had no choice. When all were down, the dalesfolk turned to stare at Lorcan and I. The old woman gave him an approving nod, then a polite bow.
“For your aid I thank you on behalf of all who are left of our dale. Of your courtesy now I must tend the injured.”
Without further ado she dropped to her knees, her grip slowing the bleeding of a girl whose shoulder had met with an outlaw dagger. I moved to those who lay still. The man had been dead perhaps an hour. From his injuries I thought he had suffered a fall in the hills. The two the outlaw leader had slain lay side by side while the older woman, too, was dead. Alive still were the old woman, a woman of perhaps forty Winters, two women a few years older than me, and four children.
I grieved for those we could not save, but the outlaws would have slain them all before they moved on. Dales courage, a gift of power, and our swords, with the aid of my wing-friends, had given back eight lives. Lorcan had gone outside. He returned some time later, led out the goats, and returned again.
“There’s a second shelter which backs this one. I’ve placed the horses in that.” He hefted one of the outlaw packs. “Let’s see what’s within these. We need food and drink, more than we have to share with these people ourselves.” He looked at the children. “Help me see what treasure is within, if there are sweets then you shall share them amongst you.”
In a very short time all four children were helping him plunder the packs, laying out what they found in the light of two lanterns found hidden at the back of the shelter. There were sweets, though, looking at them, I knew they had not come from the outlaws. Lorcan himself had a sweet tooth and had bargained at our last village halt for sugared stalks of angelica. It was near moonhigh when we were done and the storm broke over us in a torrent of wind and rain.
The dead lay quiet in the other barn. In the morning we would bury them. The outlaw bodies had been removed and dumped some distance away in the hills. Before Lorcan and I left them we had stripped their miserable carcasses of all that might be useful. Let the wolves eat their meat undressed. The old woman stood looking about her. Then, slowly, as if her very bones ached, she turned towards us.
“I am Elesha of Drosdale. These with me are all who are left alive from that dale. Our good Lord Drosan fought when the call came. One man came back from that slaughter to say Lord Drosan and all others with him had died. Then, despite those who died to hold them back, the invaders came to Drosdale and we fled. Later we returned to what they had left us, though much of the land was poisoned and the beasts mostly dead. It was the only home we knew. But there was no longer a hold, the crops were gone, and sickness fell upon us. Our people died until there were few of us remaining.
“When we heard the war was over, we rejoiced, believing all would be well again in time. It was not. Bandits came seeking food. If we gave nothing they killed us. If we gave they used the women and left us new mouths to feed if the woman did not slay herself and the child. Last Winter was bitter: When it was Spring only twenty of us were left alive. We talked together and took up what we had to find a new home. Since then we have wandered. More of us died until we are as you see us now.”
Her voice rose up in anger. “We won the war forced on us. Why now does it not cease? Why have we no home, no place? Must we be wanderers forever without shelter? Must we live in the hills, die like the deer until the last of Drosdale is gone?” Tears streamed down wrinkled cheeks so that I could not be silent.
“No,” I said, reaching for her hands. “Elesha, there is a place for all of you. I go now with my liege-man to reclaim it. I offer you a choice. If you would accept Lorcan as your war-leader, then you may travel with us. Take time to decide. If you see us as two you can trust and the reverse seems so to us, then you shall have a home.”
“At what cost?”
“At none save your hard work, your honesty with us always.” I smiled into faded eyes. “Oh, yes, one thing. The goats.”
“I’ll not leave them behind,” Elesha warned.
“I do not ask that. But we would travel too slowly with them afoot. They must be placed on the ponies. The kids must be taken up before those who ride. The outlaw packs shall be shared among you and each shall carry their own. If this is done then we shall each have a beast to ride and a second pack-pony to carry the goats.”
I could see she was thinking hard. “If we place the children two to a mount then we have three pack-animals. That would be easier.” It was good sense so I agreed. Elesha eyed me. “And you, Lady, who or what are you?” Her gaze touched my sheathed sword, moved up to where my warriors clung to beams. “To whom do we swear allegiance?” I was uncertain what answer to make and it was Lorcan who moved to front Elesha and her kin.
“I am Lorcan, once of a dale which is no more. There, too, the invaders came. Dale and house I have renounced, being liege-man now to my lady. She is Meive of Landale, wise woman of some power. Accepted is she within a shrine of the Old Ones, named daughter to she who dwells within. About her fly wing-friends who are also warriors.” His voice was strange, as if he prophesied, so that I saw Elesha was impressed, yet she strove to keep her head.
“There are old ones and Old Ones.” Her meaning was clear. acceptance within such a shrine was no guarantee of my goodness.
“Let you travel with us and judge,” was Lorcan’s reply.
Her head bowed in agreement. “It shall be so. We have eaten, let us sleep. In the morning we take the road with you. After that, what shall be we shall see.”
We laid up in the shelter for two days. The storm came late that night and the following day it continued until darkness. It was too cold
and wet to travel with people who were long underfed and who had little resistance to chills. Also, one of the women was ill from the rough handling received from the bandits. At length Elesha came to me, stretching out a hand towards my sword.
“Lady. This is a thing of power, can it be it could aid poor Vari?”
“I do not know.” Yet I considered carefully. I believed it would at least do no harm. So I walked to the woman as she tossed on her bedding. “Vari. Do what you feel right.”
To my horror she closed her hand about the blade edge as I offered it. I had meant her to touch the flat only. But she showed no sign of pain. A few drops of blood trickled down the blade. Light pulsed from the blade, soaking into her skin. The cut was gone, and along with it her fever. The light dimmed, faded, and it, too, was gone. But as it vanished I felt again that dim quiet regard. Whatever had given the gift, now expended, was well pleased with me.
XII
Before we left, two days later, I went alone to the nearest tall-standing stone. Upon that I laid both my palm and my naked sword blade. Shutting my eyes, I sought the hive-mind and through it gave thanks. The response was a gentle amusement The one who had dwelled here long ago was gone. What remained was only a shadow of power, yet that one had been female and kin in some sort to my lady. The fear and need of Elesha’s people so close to what had once been a shrine had awakened power, and to my gift it had answered. I had done well, it said, and now would let me depart in peace. I had the sense that it was gone after that, so I did likewise.