A Handful Of Men - The Stricken Field Part 25

"I think we should split up here," Inos said. "Some of us go overland across Guwush, and the rest sail around it by ship. We can join up somewhere on the Morning Sea. Maybe even Ollion itself."

"Goblins." Apparently the warlock meant the word to convey agreement. The two goblins would have to be smuggled off Gurx by night, or in sacks maybe. They were probably the first goblins ever to venture near Guwush since the coming of the G.o.ds.

"We can ask the thane to find us a ship," Inos suggested. "We may as well charter our own vessel. Here he comes now."

"The old villain will despise us for a clutch of cowards," Shandie warned. "Who wants to break the news that we're not going to Nintor with him?"

Kragthong's great bulk had been rising into view like a surfacing whale. He stepped off the plank and headed ponderously across the deck toward the conspirators, totally ignoring the crew, which had just raised yet another ironfilled net from the hold. Free of the hatch, it began to swing on its cable. Sailors screamed warnings, which he did not heed. A dozen men scrambled to catch the deadly ma.s.s, jotnar and dwarves both. Inos and Shandie and Raspnex sprang to their feet with cries of alarm. For a moment disaster seemed inevitable. Then the squirming heap came to a screaming, cursing halt just inches away from the amba.s.sador, who strode on by it as if it did not exist.

Inos and Shandie remained where they were, the warlock stepped up on the bench. The thane stopped and looked down at them all, his battered face flushed and his forked white beard sparkling like ice in the sunlight.

"I have bad news!"

"Namely?" Shandie asked.

"This is in confidence. You're not to tattle to the imps!"

Shandie almost said, But I am an imp! I am the chief imp! That wasn't true, though. Much as he hated it, he was an outlaw now, a rebel against his own impire, an enemy of his people. He felt his fresh-shaven face flush. "In confidence, then."

"Blood Wave II's in port."

G.o.d of Murder! Shandie wondered which of the longships he had pa.s.sed was the notorious raider. They had all looked equally lethal. Drakkor! Shandie himself had put a price on that man's head, a huge price, although he had known it was an empty gesture. Even the semicivilized, Impire-born jotnar would sooner die under torment than ever betray a thane.

Inos said, "Pardon my ignorance?"

"The thane of Gark!" Kragthong barked. "Drakkor, son of Kalkor. Another of your kinsmen."

"Ah!" She nodded, her green eyes glinting cold like pack ice. "Indeed he must be, for his father was. I thought . . . After my husband ended that monster's career, I understood that one of his brothers succeeded to the thanedom?"

"Three of them held it, in turn. Then Kalkor's sons began to come on the scene. The latest is Drakkor, who won it two years ago. Four reckonings in one day! No one is likely to dispute his claim now. He is cast in the same mold as his father, although he must be too young to remember him."

"A bad mold. Why is this bad news, that he is in town?"

The weathered old face glowered down at her. "Because he is on his way to the moot. I understood he had gone south. His father almost circ.u.mnavigated Pandemia, and Drakkor was thought to have the same ambition. But he is back, breathing fire as usual." The old man hesitated, then added, "A ruthless and very dangerous killer."

If a Nordland thane described another in those terms, then he was talking of someone worth watching. Were the notion not so absurd, Shandie might have supposed that Kragthong was nervous.

"His father laid claim to my kingdom," Inos said furiously. "The issue was settled at a reckoning in Hub. You are saying that Drakkor might reopen the matter?"

The big man took his beard in both hands and tugged, as he did in moments of stress. Perhaps that was why it was so forked. "If you go to the moot, he will feel compelled to do so. The reckoning in Hub was suspecta"so he would claim. There was some doubt, was there not, whether your husband killed him in fair combat or by sorcery?"

"Kalkor himself was a sorcerer!"

"That statement alone would be enough to provoke a challenge!" The thane continued before Inos could answer, his voice growing louder. "Even an orthodox reckoningheld at Nintor in proper fashion, witnessed by the a.s.sembled thanes . . . even an orthodox reckoning may be set aside by another. His father's failure would not stop him challenging you. He would plead a blood feud, and no one would argue."

A very odd gleam showed in the queen's green eyes. "Well, we cannot let a boor like this Drakkor fellow keep us away from the Nintor Moot, can we? I am thane of Krasnegar, after all!"

Imperor and amba.s.sador opened their mouths simultaneously, but this time it was Inos who brooked no interruption.

"A n.o.ble thanedom! If I wanted to, I could probably outfit more longships than almost any of them. I thought an amba.s.sador's guests were protected by his diplomatic status?"

The big man harrumphed, looking quite abashed now. "The challenge would be improper and could be refused. That would not look, ah, seem . . ."

"Quite!" Inos said crossly. "In practice one cannot hide behind points of law without casting doubts on one's courage. So we must accept the challenge, right? I certainly cannot lift one of those axes the boys fight with, so I shall have to find a champion. Some husky young . . . But it's usually a relative, isn't it? Of course! I should have realized. Honor will compel you, as host and kinsman, to waive your immunity and take up my cause!" She smiled gratefully.

The amba.s.sador stiffened. "My pleasure, ma'am. But I shall see that Drakkor is warned of the danger in advance. That should give him second thoughts." He turned quickly to Shandie. "You are aware that Hub has pulled four legions out of Guwush to fight the goblins?"

"Four? " Shandie recoiled. "Pulled four . . . You are joking!"

Obviously he wasn't joking, though. What in the Name of Evil was Zinixo thinking of? The gnomes would explode instantly. It was amazing they had not poured down out of the hills already. A generation of warfare had not completely pacified Guwush, and now it would be all thrown away. Surely the crazy dwarf was not letting idiot Emthoro actually run the Impire?

He wanted to scream.

There was worse to come . . .

"Ever since he won his thanedom," the amba.s.sador said grimly, "Drakkor has been preaching fire and sword against the Impire! He claims his father was betrayed in Hub. Again, a blood feud."

"A blood feud against the whole Impire?"

"It is a good excuse. He almost carried it last year. Now, with Guwush and Urgaxox lying naked, not a voice will rise against it."

Shandie sat down on the hatchcovers, feeling ill. My people! Goblins, dwarvesa"and now gnomes and jotnar, also? The millennium come in blood? He tried to speak, cleared his throat and tried again. "I don't suppose that slimebrained cousin of mine weakened the garrison at Ollion by any unlucky chance?"

"I'm told he did," the thane said.

So the caliph had his chance, also? Goblins, dwarves, gnomes, jotnar, and then djinns? And could the elves and fauns ever turn down the chance to join in?

"What is Zinixo doing? " Shandie howled. "He has stolen the Impirea"will he now destroy it?"

No one answered.

Finally it was Inos who spoke. "Amba.s.sador, you are saying that none of us should go to the moot?"

He flushed scarlet above the edges of his beard. "That is my view, ma'am. Not because of the danger, you understand! Please believe that! I should be your champion most willingly, and honored to serve a n.o.ble kinswoman so. But you see, Drakkor will have the votes for war. I saw a war moot once, when I was young. It was as if the very air reeked of blood. Not a man but was shouting at the top of his lungs. Your message will not be heard!"

Jotunn bloodl.u.s.t was notorious. Shandie could imagine what it would do to an a.s.sembly of thanes, the killers' killersa"or at least he thought he could imagine it. He could imagine it as much as he wanted to.

"You make sense, Excellency," he muttered. "They will have no time for improbable tales of sorcery."

"I'm not arguing," Raspnex growled.

The amba.s.sador sighed and visibly relaxed. "Maybe next year."

If there was a next year.

"I am so sorry," Inos said fretfully, "that you will not be able to settle the insolent Drakkor for me. It seems, then, that we must press on to Guwush and preach to the gnomes."

"I bid you good fortune," Kragthong murmured. "I wish I could have been of service."

Meanwhile was he going to scuttle home to his lair in Dwanish? Perchance even jotnar found wisdom in their old age! Shandie refrained from comment.

Certainly there could be no thought of going to Nintor now. Quite apart from both the Covin and Drakkor lurking in the background, the thanes themselves would be ravening maniacs. Shandie was ashamed to feel a life-giving sense of relief. The moot would have been a great opportunity, but a very dangerous one. Now it was clearly out of reach and really not worth bothering about anyway, since Nordland had no sorcerers.

"Guwush indeed," he said, wondering if that were any less dangerous for him. "We three head inland by coach, and send the others around the coast by ship? Has anyone got any ideas how one gets in touch with rebela""

Kragthong let out a cry. Shandie looked up and saw that the others were all staring at the river. He sprang to his feet. A longship was going by, heading downstream. Riding the current, the low shape streaked through the water, its banked oars moving in perfect symmetry. With every stroke it surged forward, its dragon prow lifting, deadly and beautiful as a hunting shark. Beside the helmsman at the steering oar, two boys were jumping up and down waving. Their shouts drifted faintly to the watchers. One of them had red hair.

Inos rushed over to the rail and waved in reply, and then the raider had vanished beyond the end of the next pier. Shandie looked at the warlock's glare, and then at the thane, who stood aghast, his face as white as his beard. For a long moment no one spoke at all.

"Nothing will catch them," Shandie muttered. Raspnex shook his head.

The thane must know whose longship that was, for his dismayed expression mourned a lost son.

Inos was still at the rail, staring downriver, perhaps waiting for a distant glimpse as the vessel rounded the first bend.

Shandie walked over and put an arm around her. "Inos, I am truly sorry! It is partly my fault. I suppose they think it's a great joke to beat us to Nintor. This morning Gath asked me how important it was to get the word to the thanes anda""

"This morning Gath avoided me," she said quietly, not turning. "Don't blame yourself. When he spoke to you he must have known even the name of the ship he would go on. He knows we are not going and has taken our place."

"How can he possiblya""

She sighed. "I don't know, but I am certain. Gath does not play jokes. He never has. It is my fault. I should have told him of the G.o.d's prophecy." Her voice was calm and steady. She did not even sound bitter. "But how could I tell him?"

How could she be taking this so serenely? Shandie felt completely out of his depth. He removed his arm. "What has that to do with it?"

Now Inos did turn to look at him. Her eyes seemed a brighter green than usual, but there was no trace of tears in them. "Strange that a warning that sounded so awful at first should now be a comfort, isn't it? Don't you see? Gath fears that his father is dead. But the G.o.d gave the message to Rap, that he must lose a child, and that makes no sense if Rap is never to know what happened to his children. I should have told Gath of that."

Shandie groped for words. Her courage bewildered him. It seemed so cold, and yet he knew she was not cold. She smiled quirkily. "You expected hysterics, Sire? A woman need not be pureblood jotunn to feel pride in a brave son. He seeks to honor his father's memory, and this is exactly the sort of thing his father might do." Suddenly her eyes sparkled like crystal and she turned away. Shandie had underestimated her again. "You do not want to go after him?"

Inos shook her head. "I could not help. I would probably make things much worse. He may just possibly escape the Covin's attention, unless he actually gets to stand up and address the moot and announce who he is. That may be what he's planning, but it isn't very likely, is it?" She sighed. "His grandfather was a raider, you knowa"Rap's father, Grossnuk."

"Oh, come! Gath is not going to turn into one of those!"

"No, of, course not. So what do they do with him? Set him working in the fields? I'm more worried that he'll run into that Drakkor man without realizing the danger."

Whose longship was that?

"Drakkor?" Shandie repeated. "Even he won't harm a child, surely?"

Inos smiled pityingly. "A Nordland thane? Scruples? Perhaps you don't remember Kalkor, his father?"

"But what quarrela""

"Kalkor did not recognize my right to succeed my father as thane of Krasnegar. So Drakkor won't. So who is the present thane of Krasnegar?"

"Gath?"

"Gath," she said sadly. "Holindarn's grandson. And Drakkor will challenge him to a reckoning for it. Or just kill him to settle the blood feuda"Gath's father killed his father. I'm not sure if Gath knows that."

We happy few: . . . from this day to the ending of the world,

But we in it shall be remembered;

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers . . .

a" Shakespeare, Henry V, IV, iii

EIGHT.

Afterwards remember

1.

Thaile was walking the way with Teal, the Master of Novices. He was a long-winded man of middle years whose only notable eccentricity was a devotion to the color blue. He invariably dressed in bluea"usually a pale sky blue when he was relaxing, a conservative ultramarine for business, and navy blue or indigo on solemn occasions, but always one blue or another. This curious idiosyncrasy did n.o.body any harm. He was patient and even-tempered, and he commanded respect. He was a great improvement upon his predecessor, the muddy-eyed Mistress Mearn. Thaile had never discovered what had happened to Mearn; she had vanished completely, and was never spoken of. No one seemed to mourn her absence, least of all the novices.

"These are known as the Central Hills," Teal remarked, unable to resist a chance to lecture. "We are in almost the exact center of Thume here. You might mistake them for the foothills of the boundary ranges, but you will observe that there are no true mountains in sight."

"It is a pleasant spot," Thaile commented respectfully, carefully not asking how she could observe what was not there. She was very weary of cla.s.ses and studying, and glad of a chance to walk in such pleasant woods. A younger and less talkative companion would be an improvement; no one at all would be even better. There must be some reason for this excursion, but Teal had not yet explained and she had not asked.

He discoursed upon the stately elm and silvery birch, the monumental oak and chestnut. "Note that copper beech! Magnificent. A pity the rhododendrons are over." The day was stiflingly hot, even in the Central Hills, with not a hint of a breeze.

Thaile was still a novice and would remain one for several years yet, but she was no longer the naive peasant girl who had walked the Defile. A second word of power had brought her an adept's ability to master any mundane skill. She could read and write and calculate. Day in and day out she sat with her fellow novices and trainees as the tutors filled their heads with history and geography, the sociology and politics and languages of the Outside, genealogy and the lore of magic. She read until her eyes ached and listened until her head swam. She talked with sorcerers. She heard rumors of terrible events stalking the world Outside, and knew that prophecies were being fulfilled. She understood that these were not normal times; the College was nervous as it had not been for centuries.

The second word had confirmed her Faculty by bringing her the beginnings of occult skills, very rare for a mere adept. They frightened her, for they implied that she was destined to be a mighty sorceress one day. Dread years lay ahead, and she might find herself playing a part in them, and for that she had no ambition. She suspected she had no ambitions at all, except to do her duty as it had been shown to her that terrible night in the Defile.

"Ah!" Teal exclaimed. "Therea"see the lake?"

Thaile peered through the foliage and admitted that she could just make out a tiny sc.r.a.p of polished blue in the far distance, between two hills.

Teal nodded fussily. "Now you have seen it, I can leave you. There is only the Baze Place, so you can't be mistaken. He is expecting you. When you've finished, come and see me at the Library." His eyes twinkled, waiting for her question.

"Finished what?"

He beamed. "You are to learn another word."