Tigana Part 32

'Pigeon!' the balding, burly-chested man cried, though they were still some distance away. He sat in a ma.s.sive oak chair set squarely down in the middle of the Braccio Pa.s.s. There had been early spring flowers blooming on the lower slopes but not very many this far up. On either side of the path piled rock and stone yielded to forest. Further up, to the south, there was only rock and snow. the balding, burly-chested man cried, though they were still some distance away. He sat in a ma.s.sive oak chair set squarely down in the middle of the Braccio Pa.s.s. There had been early spring flowers blooming on the lower slopes but not very many this far up. On either side of the path piled rock and stone yielded to forest. Further up, to the south, there was only rock and snow.

Carrying-poles were attached to the oak chair and six men stood behind it in burgundy livery. Devin thought they were servants, but when he came nearer he saw from their weapons that he was wrong: these were soldiers, and guards.

'Pigeon,' the man in the chair repeated loudly. 'You have risen in the world! You bring companions this time!'

It was with a genuine sense of disorientation that Devin realized that the childish name and the raucous, carrying words were addressed to Alessan.

Who had the oddest look to his face all of a sudden. He said nothing by way of reply though, as they rode up to the seven men in the pa.s.s. Alessan dismounted; behind him Devin and Erlein did the same. The man in the chair did not rise to greet them, but his bright, small eyes followed every move that Alessan made. His enormous hands were motionless on the carved arms of the chair. He wore at least six rings; they sparkled in the light of the morning sun. He had a hooked much-broken nose in a leathery, weather-beaten face that showed two livid scars. One was an old wound, slanting down his right cheek in a white line. The other, much more recent, raked redly across his forehead to the greying, receding hairline above his left ear.

'Company for the ride,' Alessan said mildly. 'I wasn't sure if you'd come. They both sing. Could have consoled me on the way back. The young one is Devin, the other is Erlein. You've grown monstrous fat in a year.'

'And why should I not grow fat?' the other roared in delight. 'And how dare dare you doubt that I would come! Have I ever not kept faith with you?' The tone was boisterous in the extreme, but Devin saw that the small eyes were alert and very watchful. you doubt that I would come! Have I ever not kept faith with you?' The tone was boisterous in the extreme, but Devin saw that the small eyes were alert and very watchful.

'Not ever,' Alessan agreed calmly. His own febrile manner had gone, to be replaced by an almost preternatural calm. 'But things have changed since two years ago. You don't need me any more. Not since last summer.'

'Not need you!' the big man cried. 'Pigeon, of course of course I need you. You are my youth, my memory of what I was. I need you. You are my youth, my memory of what I was. And And my talisman of fortune in battle.' my talisman of fortune in battle.'

'No more battles though,' said Alessan quietly. 'Will you allow me to offer my humblest congratulations?'

'No!' the other growled. 'No I will not allow you. No such mewling courtly claptrap from you. What I want is for you to come here and hug me and stop this imbecilic maundering! Who are we to be chittering like this? The two of us!'

And with the last words he propelled himself upright with a ferocious push of his two muscled arms. The huge oak chair rocked backwards. Three of the liveried guards sprang to balance it.

The big man took two awkward, crippled, hopping steps forward as Alessan strode to meet him. And in that moment Devin abruptly realized-a bucket of ice down the length of his spine-who this scarred, maimed man had to be.

'Bear!' said Alessan, laughter catching in his throat. He threw his arms fiercely about the other man. 'Oh, Marius, I truly didn't know if you would come.'

Marius.

Stupefied by more than alt.i.tude and a sleepless night, Devin saw the self-crowned King of Quileia-the crippled man who'd killed seven armed challengers bare-handed in the sacred Grove-lift the Prince of Tigana clean off his feet and kiss him loudly on both cheeks. He lowered a red-faced Alessan to the path and held him at arms' length for a close scrutiny.

'It is true,' he said at length as Alessan's grin faded. 'I can see it. You really did doubt me. I should be outraged, Pigeon. I should be wounded and hurt. What did Pigeon Two say?'

'Baerd was sure you would be here,' Alessan admitted ruefully. 'I'm afraid I owe him money.'

'At least one of you has grown up enough to have some sense,' Marius growled. Then something seemed to register with him. 'What? You two young scamps were wagering wagering on me? How dare you!' He was laughing, but the blow he suddenly clapped on Alessan's shoulder made the other man stagger. on me? How dare you!' He was laughing, but the blow he suddenly clapped on Alessan's shoulder made the other man stagger.

Marius hobbled back to his chair and sat down. Again Devin was struck by the all-embracing nature of the glance he turned on them. Only for an instant did it flit over Devin himself, but he had the uncanny sense that Marius had, in that one second, sized him up quite comprehensively, that he would be recognized and remembered should they meet by chance even a decade hence.

He experienced a weird, fleeting moment of pity for the seven warriors who had had to battle this man, bringing merely swords or spears, and armour and two good legs to meet him in a night grove.

Those arms like tree-trunks and the message in those eyes told Devin all he needed to know about which way the balance would have tilted in those battles despite the ritual maiming-the severed ankle tendons-of the consort who was supposed to die in the Grove, to the greater glory of the Mother G.o.ddess and her High Priestess.

Marius had not died. For anyone's greater glory. Seven times he had not died. And now, since that seventh time, there was a true King in Quileia again and the last High Priestess was dead. It had been Rovigo, Devin remembered suddenly, who had first given him that news. In a rancid tavern called The Bird, either half a year or half a lifetime ago.

'You must have been slipping or lazy or already fat last summer in the Grove,' Alessan was saying. He gestured towards the scar on Marius's forehead. 'Tonalius should never have been able to get that close to you with a blade.'

The smile on the face of the King of Quileia was not, in truth, a pleasant thing to see. 'He didn't,' Marius said grimly. 'I used our kick-drop from the twenty-seven tree and he was dead before we both hit the ground. The scar is a farewell token from my late wife in our last encounter. May the sacred Mother of us all guard her ever-blessed spirit. Will you take wine and a midday meal?'

Alessan's grey eyes blinked. 'We would be pleased to,' he said.

'Good,' said Marius. He gestured to his guards. 'In that case, while my men attend to laying things out for us you can tell me, Pigeon, and I hope you will will tell me, why you hesitated just now before accepting that invitation.' tell me, why you hesitated just now before accepting that invitation.'

It was Devin's turn to blink; he hadn't even registered the pause. Alessan was smiling though. 'I wish,' he said, with a wry twist of his mouth, 'that you would miss something once in a while.'

Marius smiled thinly, but did not speak.

'I have a long ride ahead of me. At least three days, flat out. Someone I must get to, as soon as I can.'

'More important than me, Pigeon? I am desolated.'

Alessan shook his head. 'Not more important, or I wouldn't be here now. More compelling perhaps. There was a message from Danoleon waiting for me at Borso last night. My mother is dying.'

Marius's expression changed swiftly. 'I am deeply sorry,' he said. 'Alessan, truly I am.' He paused. 'It could not have been easy for you to come here first, knowing that.'

Alessan gave his small characteristic shrug. His eyes moved away from Marius, gazing past him up the pa.s.s towards the high peaks beyond. The soldiers had finished spreading a quite extravagant golden cloth over the level ground in front of the chair. Now they began laying out multicoloured cushions upon it and putting down baskets and dishes of food.

'We will break bread together,' Marius said crisply, 'and discuss what we are here to discuss-then you must go. You trust this message? Is there danger for you in returning?'

Devin hadn't even thought about that.

'I suppose there is,' Alessan said indifferently. 'But yes, I trust Danoleon. Of course I do. He took me to you in the first place.'

'I am aware of that,' Marius said mildly. 'I remember him. I also know that unless things have greatly changed he is not the only priest in that Sanctuary of Eanna, and your clergy in the Palm have not been noted for their reliability.'

Alessan gave his shrug again. 'What can I do? My mother is dying. I've not seen her in almost two decades, Bear.' His mouth crooked. 'I don't think I am likely to be recognized by many people, even without Baerd's disguises. Would you not say I have changed somewhat since I was fourteen?' There was a slight challenge in the words.

'Somewhat,' Marius said quietly. 'Not so much as one might think. You were a grown man even then, in many ways. So was Baerd when he came to join you.'

Again Alessan's eyes seemed to drift away up the line of the pa.s.s, as if chasing a memory or a far-off image to the south. Devin had an acute sense that there was much more being said here than he was hearing.

'Come,' Marius said, levering his hands on the chair arms. 'Will you join me on our carpet in the meadow?'

'Stay in the chair!' Alessan rapped sharply. His expression remained incongruously benign and untroubled. 'How many men came here with you, Bear?'

Marius had not moved. 'A company to the foothills. These six through the pa.s.s. Why?'

Moving easily, smiling carelessly, Alessan sat down on the cloth at the King's feet. 'Hardly wise, to bring so few up here.'

'There is little enough danger. My enemies are too superst.i.tious to venture into the mountains. You know that, Pigeon. The pa.s.ses were named as taboo long ago when they shut down trade with the Palm.'

'In that case,' Alessan said, still smiling, 'I am at a loss to explain the bowman I just saw behind a rock up the trail.'

'You are certain?' Marius's voice was as casual as Alessan's, but there was suddenly ice in his eyes.

'Twice now.'

'I am deeply distressed,' said the King of Quileia. 'Such a person is unlikely to be here for any reason other than to kill me. And if they are breaking the mountain taboo I am going to be forced to rethink a number of a.s.sumptions. Will you take some wine?' He gestured, and one of the men in burgundy poured with a hand that trembled slightly.

'Thank you,' Alessan murmured. 'Erlein, can you do anything here without it being known?'

The wizard's face went pale, but he too kept his voice level. 'Not any sort of attack. It would take too much power, and there is nothing here to screen it from any Tracker in the highlands.'

'A shield for the King?'

Erlein hesitated.

'My friend,' Alessan said gravely, 'I need you and I am going to continue to need you. I know there is danger in using your magic-for all of us. I must have honest answers though, to make intelligent decisions. Pour him some wine,' he said to the Quileian soldier.

Erlein accepted a gla.s.s and drank. 'I can do a low-level screen behind him against arrows.' He stopped. 'Do you want it? There is some risk.'

'I think I do,' Alessan said. 'Put up the shield as un.o.btrusively as you can.'

Erlein's mouth tightened but he said nothing. His left hand moved very slightly from side to side. Devin could see the two missing fingers now, but nothing else happened, so far as he could tell.

'It is done,' Erlein said grimly. 'The risk will increase the longer I hold it up.' He drank again from his wine.

Alessan nodded, accepting a wedge of bread and a plateful of meat and cheese from one of the Quileians. 'Devin?'

Devin had been waiting. 'I see the rock,' he said quietly. 'Up the path. On the right side. Arrow range. Send me home.'

'Take my horse. There's a bow in the saddle.'

Devin shook his head. 'He may notice-and I'm not good enough with the bow anyhow. I'll do what I can. Can you arrange to be noisy in about twenty minutes?'

'We can be very noisy,' said Marius of Quileia. 'The climb back up and around will be easier to your left as you go down, just past the point where this path bends. I'd very much like this person alive, by the way.'

Devin smiled. Marius suddenly roared with laughter and Alessan followed suit. Erlein was silent as Alessan swept an imperious hand out towards Devin.

'If you forgot it then you can fetch it, thimble-brain! We'll be here, enjoying our meal. We may may leave something for you.' leave something for you.'

'It wasn't my fault!' Devin protested loudly, letting his smile fade to petulance. He turned back to where the horses were tethered. Shaking his head, visibly disconsolate, he mounted his grey and rode down the path along which they had come.

As far as the bend in the trail.

He dismounted and tethered the horse. After a moment's thought he left his sword where it was, hanging from the saddle. He was aware that it was a decision that might cost him his life. He'd seen the wooded slopes beside the pa.s.s though; a sword would be awkward and noisy when he began to climb.

Cutting to the west he soon found himself among the trees. He doubled back south and up, as far off the line of the pa.s.s as the terrain allowed. It was hard, sweaty going, and he had to hurry, but Devin was fit and he'd always been quick and agile-compensations for a lack of size. He scrambled up the steep slopes, weaving among mountain trees and dark serrano bushes, grasping roots wedged deep into the slanting soil.

Part of the way up, the trees briefly gave out before a short, steep cliff to the south and west. He could go up or he could go around, angling back towards the pa.s.s. Devin tried to guess his bearings but it was difficult-no sounds reached him this far off the trail. He couldn't be sure if he was already above the place where the Quileian cloth was spread for lunch. Twenty minutes, Twenty minutes, he'd told them. He gritted his teeth, offered a quick prayer to Adaon, and began to climb the rock. It occurred to him that there was something profoundly incongruous about an Asolini farmer's son from the northern marshes struggling up a cliff-face in the Braccio Range. he'd told them. He gritted his teeth, offered a quick prayer to Adaon, and began to climb the rock. It occurred to him that there was something profoundly incongruous about an Asolini farmer's son from the northern marshes struggling up a cliff-face in the Braccio Range.

He wasn't an Asolini farmer's son though. He was from Tigana and his father was, and his Prince had asked him to do this thing.

Devin skittered sideways along the rock-face trying not to dislodge any pebbles. He reached an outcrop of stone, changed grip, hung free for a second, and then boosted himself straight up and on to it. He scrambled quickly across some level ground, dropped flat on his stomach and, breathing hard, looked up to the south.

And then straight down. He caught his breath, realizing how lucky he'd been. There was a single figure hiding behind a boulder almost directly below him. Devin had quite certainly been visible on the last part of his climb where the cliff-face broke clear of the trees. His silence had served him well though, for the figure below was oblivious to him, avidly intent on the group feasting on the path. Devin couldn't see them, but their voices carried to him now. The sun moved behind a cloud and Devin instinctively flattened himself, just as the a.s.sa.s.sin glanced up to gauge the change in the light.

For an archer it would matter, Devin knew. It was a long shot, downhill and partly screened by the guards. There would also be time, most likely, for only one arrow. He wondered if the tips were poisoned. Probably, he decided.

Very carefully he started crawling uphill, trying to work his way further around behind the a.s.sa.s.sin. His brain was racing as he slipped into a higher stand of trees. How was he going to get close enough to deal with an archer?

Just then he heard the sound of Alessan's pipes followed, a measure later, by Erlein's harp. A moment after that a number of voices started in on one of the oldest, most rollicking highland ballads of all. About a legendary band of mountain outlaws who had ruled these hills and crags with arrogant impunity until they were surprised and defeated by Quileia and Certando together:

Thirty brave men rode apace from the north And forty Quileians met them side by side.

There in the mountains each pledged to the other And Gan Burdash high in his roost defied!

The booming voice of Marius led the others into the refrain. By then Devin had remembered something and he knew what he was going to try to do. He was aware that there was more than an element of lunacy in his planning, but he also knew he didn't have much time, or many options.

His heart was pounding. He wiped his hands dry on his breeches and began moving more quickly through the trees along the line of the ridge he'd climbed. Behind him was the singing; beneath him now, perhaps fifteen feet east of this higher ridge and twenty feet below, was an a.s.sa.s.sin with a bow. The sun came out from behind the clouds.

Devin was above and behind the Quileian now. Had he been carrying a bow and been at all accomplished with one he would have had the other at his mercy.

Instead, what he had was a knife, and a certain pride and trust in his own coordination, and a tall giant of a mountain pine-tree rising all the way up to his ridge from just behind the boulder that sheltered the archer. He could see the other clearly now, clad in a masking green for the mountain trail, with a strung bow and half a dozen arrows to hand.

Devin knew what he had to do. He also knew-because there had been woods at home, if not mountain pa.s.ses-that he could not climb down that tree with any hope of silence. Not even with the loud, seriously off-key voices screening his sounds from below.

Which left, so far as he could judge, only the one option. Others might have planned it better, but others weren't on this ridge. Devin wiped his damp palms very carefully dry again and began concentrating on a large branch that stretched out and away from the others. The only one that might do him any good. He tried to calculate angle and distance as best he could, given an almost total lack of experience at this particular manoeuvre. What he was about to try was not a thing one did for practice, anywhere.

He checked the hang of the dagger in his belt, wiped his hands one last time, and stood up. Absurdly, the flash of memory that came to him then was of the day his brothers had surprised him hanging upside down from a tree, trying to stretch his height.

Devin smiled tightly and stepped to the edge of the cliff. The branch looked absurdly far away, and it was only half of the way down to the level of the pa.s.s. He swore an inward oath that if he survived this Baerd was going to teach him how to use a bow properly.

From the path below he heard the ragged voices swirling erratically towards the climax of the ballad:

Gan Burdash ruled in the mountain heights And with his band he ranged from crag to glen, But seventy brave men tracked him to his lair And when the moons had set the peaks were free again!

Devin jumped. Air whistled past his face. The branch flew up to meet him, blurred, very fast. He stretched his hands, clutched it, swung. Only a little. Only enough to change his angle of descent, cut his momentum. Bring him directly down upon the killer behind the rock.

The branch held, but the leaves crackled loudly as he pivoted. He'd known they would. The Quileian flung a startled glance skyward and grappled for the bow.

Not nearly fast enough. Screaming at the top of his lungs, Devin plummeted like some hunting bird of these high places. By the time his target began to move Devin was already there.