“Aye. Erondale is gone. But once this war is done many dales will lie dead. In some it will be the land which is ruined, in others the people who are gone or dead. And thus may things match. No war lasts forever. In time to come it will end and you, if you live, will be keep lord without keep or dale. It is then that you must seek out another place. You do not wish to live here on Lord Hogar’s kincharity forever?”
I shook my head violently. I’d had too long of kin-charity, and while I repaid to some extent, it was a sickness in my heart knowing how it was begrudged me, by Hogeth at least.
“Good lad. Well, this is earnest that you still have some inheritance. Your father trusted me. We were boys together and I knew all the secrets of his keep. This is one. I would keep secret the others longer but,” he sighed, “the invaders press us hard. We are falling back slowly towards Paltendale and I fear. Twice have I taken minor wounds. The next may be lethal and if I die without sharing my knowledge you lose what I know.”
I was not surprised that my father had trusted Berond. They’d fought together as warriors when my grandfather Joran held the keep as lord. I’d heard my father say once that he owed his life to Berond, since a skirmish with bandits when they were both lads. If anyone knew the secrets of Erondale it would be Berond. He was glancing at the door.
“We have been here together behind a barred door long enough. There are those who will wonder why if we remain so longer. Let us ride out hunting and camp the night. There I will tell you the rest of what I know.”
I agreed with that. In my time at Paltendale I had learned to keep my business to myself. We rode far out and hunted well. With saddle-bags bulging we made camp at dusk. Over food and drink Berond began.
“What do you know of the beginning of Erondale?”
I shrugged. It was a common tale, a younger son with a wish to hold his own land. Paril of Paltendale, who had wiped out a large group of bandits and found their hoard, used that to seek out a suitable dale and settle there. Once settled he had wed the daughter of a wealthy ship-owner of the Sulcar. With her dowry he had cleared the land—extending, too, the keep—which in turn made Erondale a more desirable place with which to wed daughters. I said much of this but quickly.
“The dales were open and half-empty,” Berond agreed. “A man could make his own way and Paril did. He kept the badge of Paltendale, being a son of the House. Four generations ago Erondale gave shelter to one who came riding bearing that same badge.” Some half-remembered tale sprang up in my mind so that I exclaimed.
“Pletten the Wicked!”
Berond looked at me sharply. “Yes, indeed. Pletten of Paltendale. A man who knew no law save his own appetites. Far to the South-west, deep in the hills which skirt the Waste, Erondale rode to a wedding with Pletten at his side. And at that far keep evil was done so that Erondale rode home kin-shamed. Yet Pletten remained. He was kin and to thrust him forth might bring feud down upon the keep. Nor could he say aught, since Pletten was son to the main line of the House and thus above him.
“But that was forgotten when the Lord of Erondale found Pletten seeking to abuse a lass in the hills. She was not of our race or kind, but she was young, like to a child, and in his rage and disgust he struck. Pletten the wicked died, his victim unharmed, for her rescuer had come in time. But Erondale’s Lord sank to the ground and cursed that wicked man with all his heart. For under kin-law he must ride now and admit his crime to Paltendale.”
“Was Pletten the oldest son?”
“No, and in that lay hope. For it was possible, if he could raise a great enough payment, Paltendale might accept it and absolve him. Were he not kin there would be no question, Paltendale would cry feud, but he was lord of a cadet House and blood payment would be acceptable were it large enough. But the amount would surely be great and Erondale, though prosperous in other things, had little coin. So the lord sank down, seeing that the girl he had freed had fled, and gave himself over to worry.”
I broke in. “He must have done something. We don’t have a feud with Paltendale or they wouldn’t have taken us in.”
“He did nothing. Two days later as he rode in the high hills still trying to think of a remedy, the girl returned. In her hands she bore a bowl filled to the rim with riches. This she gave him speaking formally. ‘For a life you gave, for a life you took. For payment to be made.’ From her hands he accepted it with gratitude saying that if less was needed, then that which remained should be returned to her.”
“What happened?”
“Payment was accepted by Paltendale. You have seen the second curtain wall?” I nodded. “It was that which was built with Erondale’s coin. But there was still much wealth left over. Many men would have kept it, counting it as payment for the danger of feud. But not the Lord of Erondale. Once all was agreed, he rode home, and taking the riches unused he went to the hills seeking the one who had given them.”
I was listening intently. I’d heard a garbled part of this tale from Anla many years ago. But much of it was still new to me.
“Two nights the Lord of Erondale searched the hills with four of his men. On the third night one came to him. Not the girl, but it could be seen she was kin to he who came. The Lord of Erondale and the one who came to him went aside and spoke for a part of the night, and none know for certain what was said between them. Only this is known—that as the dawn neared, the other arose. He accepted the coin offered, but as he did so he said this openly before those present:
“‘Honor was more to you than blood. So shall your keep be Blessed as long as the grass grows upon your pasture.’”I recalled Berond’s description of Erondale now, and wondered if it had been the invaders’ machine which had broken that blessing. “‘Your Hold of Erondale may fall, but your House shall rise again. Never so long as the Power holds, shall it die. That which you could have kept is given back to you. In a time when it is required let it be used. The gratitude of my House be upon you and yours and your heirs. We live long and do not quickly forget.’” Berond broke off and I stared at him.
“What has this to do with the coin you brought me? Is it from—them?”
Berond nodded, saw my awed look, and grinned. “Aye, lad. While the Lord of the Hills accepted the offer of the unneeded coin, he returned it as I have said. Erondale made hiding-places in the keep into which they placed portions of the wealth. Over the years they changed much of it to ordinary silver where and as they could. There is a goodly amount of it remaining which lies hidden. This bag was held aside should it ever be that one fleeing should have need of an amount they could carry easily and hide well.”
I closed my fingers about the bag, from where I had placed it on a thong about my neck, weighing it in my hand. The coins were gold, the gems good quality. In my single hand in that bag I held wealth enough to buy a warhorse, a pack pony, full mail, a fine sword, and have coin enough to live fat for many months. I hefted the bag. I was not quite thirteen. As yet I had no need of such wealth. Best I let the bag’s contents lie. I said as much to Berond and he agreed.
“Aye, spend it at a whim and it shall not be there when there is great need.” He glanced at the dark hills around and lowered his voice. “Then, too, there is more where that came from. It is weighty, being mainly silver, but there is enough to re-build a keep should the one who spends waste none of it. In times to come the dales will be poor, and coin such as that will be a great prize when this war is done. See that none guess what you have about your neck, nor that there is more where it came from.” I heeded well that wisdom as I had listened to my father’s words in the past.
Berond was gone for three months after that, but when he returned we went hunting again and I asked him a question which weighed on me. This was, should I give a share of the gold to Paltendale, which had taken us in? Berond shook his head.
“I think not. The lord may be fair most times, but he is a hard man. He will say that you are only a boy and that you are kin-bound to his House, therefore what you have is his to take;
and take it he will. He would not see that as wrong or unjust. Nor has he done so badly by opening his gates to the two of us. I have fought well for him these past years. Faslane tells me you have hunted and brought in to the kitchen many times more than you would have eaten. No, we have repaid. Let be. If there comes a time when you should share what you have, I think that you will know it.”
So I took his advice and kept silent upon the matter. I wore the bag on the long thong so it lay on my breast within my clothing and none saw. Moreover, I was cunning. I made an apparent charm bag using a scrap of cloth to cover the bag Berond had given me. That empty bag I had blessed by the Hold’s wise woman, and into it I later tipped again the gold coins and gems in the privacy of my room. Any seeing the bag would know it for a charm and few would wish to meddle with one of those. It pleased me to have thought of this, and I hugged my secret to me because I had little else that was mine.
Six months later sorrow fell on me once more, so that I grieved deeply in secret—not wishing to appear unmanly before the keep’s fighters—for a long time. It seemed as if everyone I had ever cared for was taken from me and I was always left alone. I wondered, as I mourned, if Berond had given me the gold and told me all he knew because he had forseen his death? He was slain in a battle unlooked for, but now that I am older I think that it was the wisdom of an experienced warrior. Berond was no young man and he must have known that his muscles stiffened, his speed in battle slowed.
So it was that, as he battled one enemy fighter, a second came against him and Berond fell. The enemy having been drawn off later, Berond’s men were able to return with the body, so that Erondale’s master-at-arms was not left to the birds of the hills but buried in honor in a grave that was deeply dug, and marked with a wooden headstone that I carved myself. I mourned Berond deeply. He had been the only one left from my old life; now he was gone there were none and I walked alone.
But life goes on. I reached fourteen and Faslane spoke that I should join Paltendale’s fighters. I did so, and had a year of it until the invaders struck deeper into the dales and Paltendale fell. I was fortunate in that I was gone with a small group which had been sent to carry a message to a nearby dale. Faslane and some of his men broke free at the last with the Lord of Paltendale and his son, Hogeth. There, where I was polishing my sword in my tent, Faslane found me to break the news that I was homeless once more.
“It went ill, lad. My lord would have it that the invaders could not break through the walls. Thus he took few precautions.” He sighed. “He was wrong and it was others who paid. Soon he rides with his men to join with Lord Imgry. What will you do?”
“I do not know. Your advice has ever been good, Faslane. Do you give it to me now.”
“Since you ask, lad. Let you leave and seek another lord to follow. You’ll get nothing from Paltendale and less from the keep-heir.”
“Hogeth,” I said, lowering my voice to a whisper none would hear who were not inside my tent. Faslane, too, spoke in a whisper as he replied.
“Aye. Hogeth.” I saw the shadow grow in his eyes until at last the words seemed forced from him. “I cannot swear. It may be I am wrong and do very ill to speak of it. But all know how he resented being third son. Paltendale has lost keep and kin. But the Hold could be repaired, the fertile land remains, and I daresay my lord may find coin enough to rebuild somewhat when the war is done. Hogeth will inherit. There will be desperate maids aplenty also, and he will take one of good blood, perhaps with some dowry but no kin to stand for her. That will please him well.”
He paused and I saw he would change the subject, yet I must know. If I should not ride with Hogeth I had to know what manner of man was he that Faslane, who owed sword-duty to his House, would caution me.
“Faslane,” I spoke quietly. “Always you have been kind to me. I am kin to Paltendale, and Berond, who was our master-at-arms, was your friend. Tell me what shadows you. What did you see when the keep fell?”
He took in a great breath. “I cannot swear. His older brother fell honestly fighting two men at once. But Halin was fighting only one. Another came at him from behind and Hogeth leaped in. Halin fell and Hogeth slew the man. Later I looked at Halin’s body. He died from a dagger-thrust in the back when none save Hogeth had been behind him and, Lorcan, there was no dagger nor dagger-sheath on the enemy.” He fell silent again and I, too, held my tongue while thinking on what he had said.
“Perhaps the dagger was snatched up by another fighter?” I said at last.
“Perhaps. But there was no sheath. The battle still raged and I had little time to be sure. But from Halin’s wound it was no small blade that struck him. None would have paused in the midst of such a fight to unstrap a sheath of that size; they are usually double-strapped.”
“Hogeth wears a long-bladed dagger in such a sheath. He had it from that enemy scout he slew and he wears it always.”
“That was in my mind,” was all Faslane said.
I leaned back against my saddle. “I owe Hogar kin-duty but you are right. When his son rules there will be no place for me nor would I wish it. I can take up a blank-shield and choose another lord to follow.”
Faslane looked at me narrowly. “Can you so, lad? Remember, if you leave Paltendale you must repay him for all he has given you. Walk away and aye, that is exactly what he will have you do. Walk. Without mount, weapons, or mail of your own.”
I smiled. “Do not fear for me. Berond had a little coin which he gave me against such need. You forget that my pony is mine, not one of Paltendale’s mounts. I came riding him with his gear, I shall go the same way.” Faslane nodded and said no more.
The next day I went hunting alone to think over my next move. Just a few weeks earlier I had turned fifteen and under Dales Law I was a man. Moreover, though I had no dale to rule, legally I was Lord of Erondale and a free man. Did I wish to depart from my kinsman’s service, I was no child nor oath-bound man to be held.
The day after that I rode with Faslane to join the Lord of Paltendale’s small group. I kept silence as we rode to join Lord Imgry. It would be foolish to stand before Lord Hogar now and demand freedom, out here in the hills where there was neither market nor hirer. But my eyes and ears were the busier. By the time we were close to Imgry’s camp, I knew who had a good sword they would sell. I would take Drustan; he was no longer young as horses go, but I could ride him at first until I found a younger horse to buy, then Drustan could carry a pack. None in our group had spare mail, but in Imgry’s camp it was likely there would be smiths to make, or merchants to sell, what I would need.
I sought out Lord Hogar the night before we should reach Imgry. The main camp was only a few hours ride down the road and I had a plan for that at need. Faslane showed me into the tent and I bowed low to the lord of my House. He was abrupt, perhaps fearing that I would ask coin from him.
“Lorcan of Erondale. What seek you from me?”
“My freedom, Lord. Your son once spoke rightly. Erondale is gone. I have nothing and must make my own way. I would ride as a fighter, earn what I am worth, and if I do well I may come to a place where I am able to regain a portion of what was lost to me.” I saw at once that what I said did not please him.
“Fight then for me. You are young and green but I have not sent you away from amongst my men.” I knew he had few men to bring to swell Imgry’s ranks and I thought that he did not wish to lose even one, young and green as I might be.
“That is so.” I told him, holding in my temper at the contempt on his face. “But I would be free, owing nothing to anyone.”
Faslane was right. Lord Hogar stood and his face reddened in sudden fury, while his words were scathing, his tone contemptuous. “You ungrateful whelp. If you go from my service as you demand, you go naked and afoot. There is nothing you have that you did not take from my hands.” I was young, as he kept saying, and his tones cut into my pride like a knife, nor had I yet learned that too much pride can sometimes cost a man too dear.
“What
expense have I been to you, Lord, that I have not repaid with my hunting and my work?”
Hogar’s eyes dismissed me like a poor servant. “Well then, boy. Keep your clothes. I’m a fair man, I would not have one who claims my blood go naked from my tent, and I daresay you have not even the few coppers they are worth.” I felt a pang of fury at the insinuation in that, as if I was not truly of his blood and we both knew it, but covered it over for the sake of the family name. He insulted my honor with his hints.
Hogar turned to his man. “He leaves everything else behind, Faslane. His mount and gear, his mail and weapons. See to it!”
I found my voice harshly. “Lord. I ride when I leave. The beast is mine and his gear. I came riding him from Erondale. As for the clothes you leave me, I, too, am a fair man. The House of Erondale does not take where it cannot pay.” I had several silver coins and one gold in the secondary coin-pouch at my belt, I would give him a silver coin, that would pay anything I owed. My hand was shaking so hard I could feel nothing as I fumbled the coin out without looking at it. I stepped forward and dropped it at Hogar’s feet. I was almost done speaking before my eyes focused on the coin and I saw what I had done. I felt horror and shame slide up my spine at that sight. Gods, but I was a fool, I had let my anger betray me into flinging gold in Hogar’s face.
“I will leave my mail and weapons with Faslane as you demand. Let that coin repay you for my bed and board. I leave owing nothing. If I come to another keep as lord it shall not be the badge of Paltendale I raise.”
I had only time to see the stunned look on his face, as he recognized the worth of the coin, before I all but fled. Faslane came with me, his face glum, saying nothing. He stood by as I dropped my chain hauberk, coif, and weapons at his feet.
“There, take that to Hogar and tell him he’s not been cheated.”
“I know you’re no cheat, lad. But you’ve done ill. Didn’t Berond teach you to keep tight purse-strings and tighter lips? Well, what’s done is done. But I’d be out of here as fast as you can.” His mouth turned down as I would have apologized, explained my error, and offered him information as to my plans.