Alva Jahan had eyes only for the hated enemy ahead. Now choosing his moment and not looking back, he raised his sword high and cried, "Charge!"
He charged, but all unaware, he charged alone. The rest of his Orlans had slowed to a trot and were now looking about them with puzzled expressions.
"What's he so worked up about?" they asked each other. "We're all friends here."
Alva's lone charge caught the gathering of Orlans from behind and by surprise, just as he had intended. They threw themselves out of his way as he thundered across the great hall, howling his war cry as he went. Morning Star rode forward at speed, eager to follow the outcome.
Only the Jahan saw him coming. Through the smoke of the fire, Morning Star saw the Jahan draw a slender spike and raise it high. Alva closed on the platform, roaring to his men, "Follow me!" The Jahan's right arm flicked, and a flash of bright metal flew through the air. Alva fell.
It all happened so quickly that the men in the hall barely knew there had been any danger before it was over. Now they pushed round the fallen man and saw who he was. Morning Star heard shouts of anger. The Jahan himself was obscured from her view by his men. She heard a voice of the Jahan issuing orders she could not make out. She saw men bend low over the body, while others surrounded the Caspian on which he had made his charge. She saw ropes tied round the Caspian's neck and haunches. Then they stood back, and a whip cracked. The Caspian bucked in alarm. The whips cracked again, goading the horse into motion. After it a long rope unfurled. Tied by the ankles to the rope was the dead body of Alva Jahan.
Morning Star watched as the horse bolted, dragging the dead body, bouncing over rubble and dirt, behind it. For all her hatred of the dead man, she felt sickened by the sight. It dismayed her that Seeker could give such an order.
She moved forward into the heart of the hall. Behind her, the Orlans who had followed Alva Jahan were dismounting and mingling with their former comrades, saying nothing of their brief allegiance to the dead man.
The Jahan was still standing on the platform, now surrounded by Orlan captains, all talking in animated voices about Alva's strange and suicidal charge.
"How could he attack like that, all on his own?" Morning Star heard. "He must have lost his wits."
"One throw, one kill!" said another, speaking admiringly to the Jahan.
Morning Star pushed on through the throng of excited warriors, drawing surprised looks as she went, but no one stopped her. Only when she was close to the platform did one of the Orlans raise the alarm.
"Who's that? What's she doing here?"
The group on the platform now parted, and Morning Star saw the Jahan clearly for the first time. She gaped in astonishment. The leader now staring at her so imperiously was a woman.
"Who are you?" demanded the Jahan.
"My name is Morning Star."
The Jahan frowned and looked more closely.
"I know you," she said.
Morning Star knew her, too. Impossible though it seemed, the Jahan was the Wildman's bandit friend Caressa.
Signalling to her men, Caressa turned away, as if no longer interested.
"She's a spy. Lock her up. I'll deal with her later."
Morning Star offered no resistance. She let herself be pushed through a doorway, and the door was closed after her. She heard the bang of a beam dropping into place to lock it shut.
She found herself in a square stone-walled space. Unusual for this ruined fort, all four walls were solid. She looked up and realized that this was the base of the watchtower. The tower rose above her, stone walls supporting timber beams, until the ruins took over again and the broken masonry gaped open to the sky.
From the other side of the door came sounds of laughter and singing as the now united Orlans celebrated their new leader. The night was clear, and the moon was shining. Morning Star brushed clear a strip of ground to be a bed for the night.
She was about to lie down when she heard the sound of the beam being lifted from the door. The door opened, and in came Caressa. The door closed after her, and the beam was replaced.
For a few moments Caressa stood looking at Morning Star in silence. Morning Star could see from her colors that she was in no danger. The new Jahan of the Orlans had come alone, to talk.
"I remember you," she said at last. "You were with him."
"I don't know who you mean."
"Don't lie to me, girly. I'm talking about the Wildman."
"Yes. I was with the Wildman."
Morning Star remembered it well: how they had met in Spikertown and Caressa had struck her and she had hit back. Caressa had said to the Wildman then, "You're mine or you're nobody's."
Caressa was watching her closely.
"They say he has an army now."
"Yes, he has."
"You've seen him with his army?"
"Yes."
"How is he? Is he beautiful? Is he fine?"
"Yes."
Suddenly Caressa began to rage.
"Now I have an army too, and my army will destroy him! I'll hunt him down and have him dragged before me on his knees and he'll beg me for mercy! I'll make him wish he'd never turned his back on me! I'll make him sweat and piss and cry and kiss my feet and die for wanting me!"
Morning Star saw it all clearly in the racing reds of her aura, the hurt and the anger and the undying love.
"He's unhappy," she said.
"Unhappy! I'll teach him to be unhappy!" But the information pleased her. "How's he unhappy? Why's he unhappy?"
"He's alone."
"Whose fault is that? I'm glad he's unhappy. Let him suffer."
But with every word Caressa's fury was subsiding.
"Does he have a woman?"
"No."
"How about you?"
"No."
"No, he wouldn't want a shrimp like you."
This reminded Caressa that the Wildman had not wanted her either, and her rage returned.
"I'll smash his army and take him prisoner and lock him up till he loves me!"
"I don't think that's how it works," said Morning Star.
"What do you know?" retorted Caressa. "Men are all fools about love. Leave them free to choose for themselves and they never love anyone at all. Lock them up! Tell them they have no choice! Then they get on with it."
A new thought struck her.
"You want him for yourself? Sure you do. All the girls want the Wildman."
"I did once," said Morning Star. "Not any more."
"Gave up hoping, did you? That was smart. You'd never have a chance."
"Why is that?" said Morning Star softly. "Because I'm sweet and dull, like a bun?"
"You said it, girly."
Morning Star was tempted, very tempted. But she restrained herself.
"What do you mean to do with me?"
"You? Nothing. You don't matter."
"So you'll let me go?"
"Not yet. I'll not have you blabbing to the men about me and the Wildman. No, you stay where you are."
With that, she banged on the door and it was opened for her.
"Keep her here till we leave," she said to the men outside.
And so the door was locked after her.
Morning Star lay down to sleep at last. As she lay there in the moonlight, she found herself smiling at a picture in her mind. In this picture the Wildman was in prison, and Caressa, in her armor, was standing beyond the barred door saying, "Well? Do you love me yet?"
Who knows? thought Morning Star as she slipped into the sleep she so desperately needed. It might be as good a way as any other.
14 Floggers and Stabbers
SEEKER AND ECHO FOLLOWED THE HIGH ROAD UNTIL IT met the old wall. Passing through what had once been a fortified gateway, Seeker took a new road running east.
"You seem to know your way after all," said Echo.
"We're in the old kingdom now."
"What old kingdom?"
"The wall was built by Noman, a great king long ago
. It was to protect his kingdom."
Echo looked at the mounds of tumbled stones on either side.
"Doesn't seem to have protected it very well."
"The kingdom's long gone. Noman lived over two hundred years ago."
"So what do you want in the old kingdom?" Echo asked.
"A gathering of people."
"Are you to be the new king?"
"No. I've no wish to be a king."
"Why not?" said Echo. "There must be kings. If not you, who?"
"I have other work to do."
In a little while they came to a roadside stall with a smoking brazier. The stallholder was dozing beneath a faded canopy. Hearing their approach, he woke up and prodded his brazier to a brighter heat and began to call out his wares.
"Pancakes! Sweet tea!"
Seeker came to a stop and bent his head into his hands.
"Are you all right?" said Echo.
"It'll pass in a moment."
"You need food and drink."
"I've no money."
"Leave this to me," said Echo.
She dismounted and went up to the stallholder, who was a sturdy young man with a heavy lower lip.
"Hallo again," she said. "Remember me?"
The stallholder gaped at her.
"I never forget a face," said Echo, "but remind me of your name."
"Coddy," said the stallholder.
"Coddy! Of course."
She looked at him expectantly. Coddy looked back, perplexed.
"You don't remember me, do you?" said Echo.
"No, I don't."
"I thought we were friends."
"Did you?"
The young man saw the reproach in her lovely eyes and felt that in some way he must be to blame.
"That's all right," said Echo, making her voice small and sad. "You must meet so many people. You can't remember them all."
"Not so many," said Coddy.
Now that he looked properly at her, it began to seem to him that there was something familiar about her.
"I was so happy when I saw your stall," said Echo. "I told my travelling companion, that's my friend Coddy's stall. He'll give us something to eat, even though we've no money. He's a good friend of mine."
"You told him that, did you?"
"I made a mistake, that's all. I thought you'd remember me, and you haven't." She reached out her hand and touched him lightly on the arm. "But I've not forgotten you."
She gave him a sweet, sad smile, and went to rejoin Seeker.
"What are you doing?" said Seeker.
"Getting us some supper." She was standing facing Seeker, with her back to Coddy's stall. "What's he doing now?"
"Looking towards us."
"Count to three."
"Why?"
"Just count."
"One," said Seeker. "Two. Three."
He broke into a soft laugh.
"He's coming, isn't he?" said Echo.
"Yes. He's coming."
Coddy came, and shuffled his feet, and looked at Echo with puzzled eyes, and finally delivered himself of a decisive nod.
"I remember now," he said.
So they were both treated to free pancakes, with free mugs of tea to wash them down.
"Seeing as we're old friends," said Coddy.
He showed an inclination to stay with them and share their company, so Echo had to tell him that they were tired after their journey and needed to sleep. She found a grassy bank by the side of the road, and there they lay down. Coddy returned to his stall. They could see him standing there, gazing wistfully towards them, silhouetted against the twilit sky.
"Have you met him before?" asked Seeker.
"Of course not."
"So you're making a fool of him."
"How was your pancake? Has it made you feel better?"
"Yes."
"Then be grateful."
She smoothed down the grass by his side.
"Just so you know," she said, "I don't usually behave like this."
"Only when you're hungry."
"Well, what would you have done? Used your power?"
"To steal a pancake? No, I don't think so."
"So you're nobler than I am. I know that, anyway." She felt the little finger of her left hand as she spoke. "I've known I'm no good for some time now. So there we are."
Seeker had nothing to say to this. She glanced at him. He was gazing up at the sky.
"I did it for you," she said after a silence. "After all, you did save me from the Orlans."
"You owe me nothing."
"I don't call it nothing. I call it everything. I wish I knew how to repay you."
"You don't have to repay me."
Echo pushed her long fair hair back from her cheek and gazed at Seeker with her big gray eyes.
"So why doesn't it work for you?" she said.
"Why doesn't what work?"
"Other men say I'm beautiful."
"You are beautiful, Echo."
"Well, then. All you have to do is ask."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"I'm a Noble Warrior."
"What's that got to do with it?"
"We take a vow when we enter the Nom to live our lives simply and in the truth. And to love no one person above all others."
Echo heard this with astonishment.
"Does that mean you can't marry?"
"Yes."
"Why? That's stupid. Whose stupid idea is that?"
"It's part of our Rule. The Rule was written by Noman, our founder."
"But what's the point of such a stupid vow? It doesn't make any sense."
"It's so that we're free to serve everyone."
"Yes, but—" Echo was so shocked by this revelation that she could hardly find words to express her feelings. "What happens if you do love one person above all others?"
"Then you separate from that person."
"So it does happen? Noble Warriors do fall in love?"
"We have feelings, just like everyone else."
"And what do you do with your feelings?"
"Nothing."
"Doesn't that make you sad?"
"Yes," said Seeker. "Sometimes very sad indeed."
He spoke so gravely that Echo was at once convinced he spoke out of his own experience. Who did he love? Echo was not blinded by vanity, she saw her own faults clearly enough; but just as clearly she saw that most men found her beautiful, and most men fell in love with her. Why should Seeker be so very different?
"So suppose," she said, "you were to fall in love with someone. Suppose you loved them even more than you wanted to be a Noble Warrior. Would you break your vow?"
Seeker did not reply.
The sun was now low in the sky, and she couldn't make out the expression on his face, but she sensed a struggle was taking place within him.
"Would it be breaking your vow," she said, "to tell the person you loved that you loved them?"
Seeker gave a low groan. His suffering had returned, not hunger this time. Echo thought she understood the cause and longed to take him in her arms and comfort him.
Seeker gave a second groan and turned onto his side.
"What is it?" said Echo, now becoming alarmed. "Are you ill?"
"It's not an illness," said Seeker, grimacing as he spoke, his eyes tight shut. "It'll pass."
But it got worse. He started to shiver violently, and sweat streamed down his brow. Echo dried his face with his badan.
"You must have a fever."
"It'll pass," murmured Seeker again.
The dusk had deepened so far now that she couldn't see to soothe him. She heard his breathing become slower and calmer, and shortly it seemed to her that he had fallen asleep.
She lay down close to him and watched him and saw that he was shivering in his sleep. The evening was warm. How could he be so cold? She put her arms round him, to soothe him, and drew his body close against her own. Now she could feel the beating of his heart.
&nb
sp; It seemed to Echo as she lay with him in her arms that it was his caged love for her that made his body tremble; love that longed to be allowed to live and breathe.
She put her face close to his sleeping face and felt his breath on her lips.
"You can love me if you want," she whispered to him. "It's not hard."
She touched her lips to his lips and felt them tremble. She kissed him, and he responded in his sleep. Gladdened, she wound her arms tight round him and kissed him long and deep.
Then she felt a shudder pass through his whole body and a strange lurch in his chest. The vibration passed to his face, and then she too shook as she kissed him. He gave a cry from his throat, a burst of breath entered her mouth, she fell back gasping, and her whole body flushed first burning hot, then icy cold. She felt sweat break from her skin.
Seeker sprang up, now fully awake.
"What is it?" he cried. "What happened?"
"I don't know," said Echo. She felt sick and so stayed on the ground.
"Is there someone else here?"
"No. Just us."
Seeker looked round, and his mind slowly cleared. "Was I asleep?"
"Yes."
"Why was I sleeping? I'm not tired."
"You're sick. You were shivering."
"I'm not sick. I'm not shivering."
It was Echo who was shivering now. Seeker looked at her closely.
"What have you done?"
"Nothing," she said. "I'm cold."
Now she felt her strength returning. The shivering stopped. She got up and found she was wide awake and eager to be on the move.
"We could ride on if you want."
"Are you sure you're all right?"
"Yes. I'd rather travel by night."
She called Kell, and Seeker helped her to mount. She waved good-bye to Coddy, his face glowing red in the light of his brazier, and they set off down the night road.