Keep on the Borderlands

4

Sundown the next evening found the party being escorted by half a dozen polite guards in dress tunics past the inner gates and across the inner bailey. Eddis eyed the stone bastion with trepidation. The place was intimidating with its narrow windows and high walls, and armed guards seemed to be everywhere. Two flanked the doors. What if they believed that gangly young cutpurse after all—and I’m about to be arrested for brawling in public? She tried to assure herself that she’d have been led away from the tavern at once. M’Baddah touched her arm and gave her a reassuring smile. She drew a deep breath, smiled back, and tried to relax.

She’d never before taken a meal with people of rank. So we all don our breeches a leg at a time, she thought. Still, some of us pull on roughspun, and others are helped into silk.

They waited outside the great doors while the leader of their escort spoke quietly to one of the guards. The man nodded gravely and turned to pull the door open. It was thick as Eddis’ fist and appeared to be solid iron, but it was so well balanced that it took only one man to move it, and it swung silently and easily. They entered a vast, cool chamber, and the door closed after them.

“Wager those two men’ll know each of us again,” Jerdren muttered.

The sound echoed. Blorys tapped his brothers arm and minutely shook his head.

Eddis looked around curiously. The room was large and empty, and shadow hid the far walls. A few candles in tall sconces lit the way between the outer doors and another heavy door straight ahead. Their boot heels clicked on polished slate, and the sound echoed. It was cavernlike, she thought. Impersonal.

But the next door opened into a brightly lit hallway, its floor a warm, polished oak, the walls hung here and there with blue and yellow banners. Their guide passed two closed doors along the passage and stopped to indicate an open room dominated by a table covered in books and scrolls. Other than a grate in one wall and a door on the far side of the chamber, there seemed to be no other furnishings. A short, elderly man in green robes came from behind the table and smiled at them, dismissing the guards with a gesture.

“I am Ogric, Castellan Ferec’s master of table, at your service,” he said. “In a moment, I will bring you to the banquet hall. We maintain little protocol here. When the castellan enters, he asks that no one stand or bow, and you may eat and drink as soon as he gives you greeting.” He beckoned them to follow and led them across the chamber into the room beyond.

This room was enormous, clearly meant for feasting. A wide trestle ran the length of the room, with three shorter, narrower tables butted against it. Whitewashed walls were hung with pale blue or yellow banners, and a length of cloth in the same colors dipped from the ceiling. Several men already sat at the main table, though the central three chairs at the head were still unoccupied. At the other tables, Eddis saw everything from graybeards in soldiers tunics to men and women she recognized from the market and the shops. Ogric led them to places at the middle table, closest to the long trestle and opposite the empty chairs. Eddis let M’Baddah hand her into the first of those before settling next to her, his son at his left elbow. Jerdren was across from her, Blor next to him. The rest of this table was mostly taken up by military-looking men, most of whom were curiously eyeing the newcomers. She glanced at Jerdren, who grinned back.

Servants came in to distribute bowls of bread. Men in dark tunics followed, ladling wine into cups. Other servants followed, pouring soup and setting out small pots of dried herbs for seasoning the steaming broth. It smelled wonderful, Eddis thought.

A sharp, echoing rap brought attention to the long trestle. Ogric tapped his staff on the floor a second time. “Castellan Ferec,” he announced, and inclined his head as a tall, black-haired and black-bearded man in plain blue tunic and breeches strode into the room followed by two older men who also wore unfigured blue.

Eddis glanced across the table as Jerdren gasped.

“By my grandsire’s beard,” he whispered. “That’s the man who called himself Hollis!”

Blorys tugged at his brother’s sleeve. “The castellan? He’s the man you talked to yesterday, the clerk?”

“I thought he was a clerk,” Jerdren replied. “I’m just trying to recall what I said to him.” He fell silent as the three men stood at the center of the trestle.

Ferec waited for the low murmur of conversation to die away. “Guests, friends, protectors, and companions,” he said warmly, “eat and drink with me.” He smiled at the outsiders as he and his men took their seats. “We dine first here in the Keep and turn to business later.”

Once the meal began, a low murmur of conversation filled the chamber. The castellan’s attention had been claimed by the man on his right. Eddis was talking to M’Baddah. Blorys got Jerdren’s attention again.

“You remember what you said to him?” he asked in a noncarrying voice.

The older man shrugged. “Nothing rude,” he replied in kind. “I was hoping to learn about the sortie against the bandits and put in a good word for us, remember? Odd, though. I’ve heard of men in power doing that kind of thing—checking men and stories for themselves, rather than waiting for a clerk’s report. Never expected to be taken in that way myself.”

“He’s said to be a good judge of character, Jers.”

Jerdren picked up his soup and drank. “Good stuff. I hope so, Blor. I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

Across from him, Eddis was nibbling bread she’d dipped in her broth.

“Gods,” he murmured. “Doesn’t that woman ever eat? All I’ve seen her do is pick at food!”

Blorys nudged him in the ribs with a hard elbow. “Be quiet, Brother, she’ll hear you!”

I heard that, Eddis thought, but decided to ignore him.

Soup cups were taken away, and platters of sliced meat and bowls of dripping juices followed. Ferec spoke quietly with the men on either side of him and let his guests alone to eat and drink.

Halfway through the final course—baked, sweetened apples filled with cream—the man nearest M’Whan began talking to him, too quietly for Jerdren to make out what was going on. Then the fellow beyond Blor engaged his brother in conversation. Some moments later, both Keep men rose and went around to the head table, where they spoke at length with Ferec, who set aside his cup to listen gravely. Jerdren forced himself to continue eating and drinking.

More wine was served, and as the servants came forward to remove plates and cups, most of the other guests rose quietly and left the room, leaving only the military men, the older guardsmen who’d shared their table, themselves—and the castellan and his advisors. As the outer doors closed, Ferec rapped sharply on the table. All conversation ceased at once.

“Jerdren, I heard from you personally and from the hide merchant Lodis about the service you and your men did us. And I learned this morning about your feats, Eddis—bringing those priests and their burden safely here, and personally stopping a thief so skilled none of my men had been able to catch him in the act. My thanks to you all, and the thanks of the Keep’s guards and citizens.

“As token of our gratitude, my late master would have given you coin and gems. Unfortunately, he is ten years dead, and though we still hold these walls, we no longer prosper. But you deserve recompense.”

“Sir,” Eddis put in quietly, “there is no need. We did what we had to, nothing more.”

Jerdren’s boot pushed against her leg, hard, and he scowled at her.

Ferec smiled. “I expected you would say that. But valor deserves recognition, and my close advisors and I believe we have found a way to reward you.” He got to his feet. “If you will come to my study, we can talk further.”

They followed him and his men out a different door and down a long hall, up a flight of stairs. “Men before us and behind us,” Jerdren muttered to his brother. “Think perhaps they still don’t quite trust us?”

Eddis nudged him and cast him a sidelong, warning look.

Ferec led the way into a room at the head of the steps. Like the old man’s chamber next to the banquet hall, this was a plain room, dominated by a table piled high with rolled parchments, quills, and maps. A smaller table against one wall held two fat candles and a tray with pitcher and cups. Several cushioned stools stood about the room. The castellan took his seat behind the table and shoved everything aside but the maps. Eddis and Jerdren were shown to the stools nearest the table, and the rest chose for themselves.

There was a brief silence, which Ferec broke, his eyes fixed thoughtfully on Jerdren. “Yesterday, you and I spoke for some time in this room. I am sorry if you feel deceived, but I find it often useful to use the guise of a simple clerk to learn what men think of me, of the Keep, and the way we care for what we have. Often, people will speak more freely to a mere lackey than to the leader—or so I’ve found.”

Jerdren shrugged. “You’ve the right, sir, to do as you choose. Perhaps I’d have felt ill at ease, thinking I was coming here to talk to a guardsman and finding myself with the master.”

“Not ‘sir’, Jerdren. Castellan or Ferec. You told me something of your battle on the road. Give us the details now, if you will.”

“Well…” He made as terse and short a story of it as he could and answered a few questions from one of the graybeards.

“Myself, I doubt the men we fought are part of the armed camp you want. These men set up a lousy ambush that fell apart almost at once. They had more men, but we came away with only a few minor wounds and killed maybe half of them.”

“Perhaps,” the castellan allowed and turned his attention to Eddis. Between them, she and M’Baddah described the brief one-sided fight on the steep road.

“We never got close to the big man on the rocks,” Eddis finished. “The other two—there seemed no reason to stay behind and study them. There might have been more men hidden, and we had two men to deliver safely here. As for that fellow in the tavern, Castellan—that was luck only.”

“We’ve talked to witnesses,” Ferec replied. “But, as you choose.” He got to his feet and paced the small space behind the desk. “Bandits have always been a problem here. In the years since Macsen left us, we’ve had fewer men and resources to keep the outside lands cleared of them. These days, we must be content with maintaining the gates and walls, sending out a sortie only when such men come too near the Keep. Unfortunately, these most recent raiders are brash and deadly. They seem to roam the wilderness freely, attacking whomever they choose, but whenever I have sent men to seek them out, they haven’t returned. We believe they have some kind of spyhold in the ridges south of us, where they can keep watch on the road and perhaps even on our gates. So they know when we send out men after them.” He sighed quietly.

He leaned across his desk, hands flattening the topmost map. “I believe we need a different kind of company, or at least, a different kind of leader—someone who can track those bandits to their hiding place and destroy it. Bring in whoever is in charge of those mercenaries, if possible. Retrieve whatever can be found of the goods and money they’ve stolen.” He eyed them in turn. “People like you.

“This may seem a curious reward, but we will make certain you are well armed and provisioned. You will be free to choose your own company, and we will lend you men who know the nearby woods and riverlands. If you win through, half of whatever trove you recover is yours, to divide as you see fit.” He paused. “If you choose, you may talk this over among yourselves and send me word.”

Jerdren looked at Eddis and raised an eyebrow. She glanced at M’Baddah and his son, then nodded. “No need for that, si—Castellan,” she said. “We heard rumors of this hunt when we arrived, and we’ve talked it over already. For my men and myself, I accept, and I know Jerdren and his brother are willing. But M’Baddah has an idea—about these spies you think may be out there.”

The dark outlander inclined his head. “If I were a master of bandits, I would have such spies. Any high place that can be seen from your walls is suspect. Such men would know when any company leaves the gates, including ours.”

“We thought perhaps,” one of the advisors said, “you could disguise yourselves as a caravan and its escort.”

“But if no such company had come into the Keep previously? It would rouse suspicion.” M’Baddah spread his hands. “They say that from your east walls, a man can see all the way down the cliffs to level ground and across open meadow to the forest.”

“That is why Lord Macsen chose this crag and built as he did,” Ferec replied.

“I suggest, then, that our company wait for nightfall and descend first those east walls and then the cliffs, avoiding the road and the gates entirely. Your men can lower us by ropes, and we could gain the shelter of the woods before moonrise, with the bandits no wiser.”

“I like that,” Jerdren broke in.

Eddis nodded. “With a man on watch where we went down with a rope ready to lower, we could send back for supplies if necessary, and no one out there would know.”

“I can see we’ve chosen well,” Ferec smiled. “I’ll give you my letter of credit for whatever weapons and provisions you need before you leave tonight. My captains will get word out to the barracks and around the Keep that we want skilled volunteers, and you, Jerdren and Eddis, will be given passes for the inner bailey and the fortress gates, in case you need to speak with me.”

He gestured, and one of his advisors distributed cups, pouring a little wine for everyone. Ferec raised his in toast. “To your success, and your safe and speedy return. When you do return, we will do what we can to find a more fitting reward.”

It was neatly done, Eddis thought. He had worked out a bargain, sealed them to it, and politely dismissed them in almost no time at all. A very short while later, they were escorted by a single guardsman across the now mostly deserted inner bailey.

Jerdren clapped his hands together as the gates closed behind them. “That went well! So, now what?”

A newly risen half moon glanced on closed doors and shuttered windows. Nearby, light came from the windows in the backside of the tavern. Torches flanked the wide entry to the chapel and a single flame flickered somewhere inside. The fountain square was quiet, the inn shuttered for the night with only a single lantern burning low before the main door. From somewhere inside, a loud snore broke the stillness, and someone else snarled a curse. It was very quiet, except for a sudden, muted burst of laughter from the tavern.

“This place goes to bed earlier than our old village,” Jerdren remarked sourly as he headed for the tavern.

“At this hour?” Blorys asked.

His brother shrugged. “It’s not so late, and there’ll be people wanting to talk to us. After all, Ferec said he’d get word out. But there’s been plenty of rumor, and with us as his guests tonight—”

“There’ll be even more rumor,” Eddis said dryly. “But I’m not ready for sleep, either—not after such a meal.”

The great room was full, the trestles filled with people. Brief silence from those nearest the door greeted their entry, but after a moment, people turned back to their own business. Blorys went off to the taverner’s counter for cups.

The tables they’d had the evening before were still pushed together, and two pale-haired fellows sat at one end.

“Willow! Mead!” Eddis opened her arms in greeting. “When did you get here?”

The two scrambled to their feet and came forward to hug the slender swordswoman, who hugged back fiercely. They were shorter than Eddis and slender, clad alike in loose deep green shirts, greenish-brown trousers, and tall, smooth boots. Golden hair fell loose behind their pointed ears to their shoulders.

“Elves,” Jerdren murmured in surprise.

He fell quiet as Eddis beckoned him over, introducing everyone around as her companions drew up stools. Blorys distributed cups, and the taverner himself came over with a pitcher of wine and Eddis’ usual ale and pressed fruit. He waved aside her coins and was gone before she could protest or thank him.

“We arrived late this afternoon,” Willow—or Mead—replied to the swordswoman’s earlier question. They were alike enough that it was difficult to tell them apart, though a closer look revealed subtle differences between their clothing and their faces. “What are you doing so far south this late in the year, though, Eddis? I thought you and your men didn’t like facing the passes if there might be snow.”

“We still don’t, Willow. The pay was worth it, though. I wouldn’t have expected you two here, myself. Last I heard, you were heading north.”

“We went north. It proved to be another false lead.”

“We had better luck east,” Mead added.

“Same matter or another?” Eddis asked as she mixed fruit into her ale.

The elves exchanged glances. “The same matter. We finally caught up with the company that attacked Mother’s clan, two years ago.” There was grim finality in his voice. All dead, Eddis guessed. “One of the dying told Mead that two of their leaders had split off some time before, That they’d planned on coming this way, to harry the East Road.”

“Just you two—fighting against how many?” Jerdren asked.

Willow smiled, but his eyes remained dark. “We had surprise on our side. And both of us have some skill with weapons.”

“Believe it,” Eddis told Jerdren. “They’re good.”

“Say we’ve learned the trade,” Willow said quietly. “My half-brother is as skilled with his blades as his arrows and as clever a mage as any you’d want to meet. Fortunately, because his spells persuaded that man to talk and let Mead know he spoke the truth. We would never have journeyed so far for rumor or hearsay. As it is…”

“We barely reached the stables when we heard about this sortie against bandits,” Mead said. “We hear you are to captain it, Eddis.”

Jerdren stirred. Blorys gripped his wrist, and his brother subsided.

Eddis flashed the younger man a wry grin. “Not exactly. It was Jerdren’s idea to begin with. Since that’s so, he can tell you about it, if he’d rather.” But Jerdren, his color suddenly high, shook his head. Eddis explained. “It’s possible you’re looking for the same men we’re after.” She let the unspoken question hang.

“We’ll join you—if you’ll have us,” Willow said, his eyes moving from Eddis to Jerdren.

Mead merely nodded, but his dark eyes fixed on Jerdren’s.

“Don’t worry, Jerdren,” Willow added with a faint smile. “You look like a man who hasn’t dealt much with magicians of any sort, let alone one like Mead. But you have Eddis’ word for our use to your party. She can tell you I’m skilled enough with swords, knives, and longbow. Mead’s fast and deadly with a bow or his knives. We don’t know the lands hereabouts, but we’re both good in country like this—woods, hilly ground, and river-bottom. We’re both good at tracking and quieter at it than most men. We can see farther and better in the dark, and we’ve good cause to help you, because we want certain of those men dead as revenge for the pain they caused our family. I’m willing to go for nothing but the chance of vengeance—”

“Nonsense,” Eddis broke in firmly. “Share and share alike, Willow. In whatever plunder we recover, in the dangers, and in the castellan’s offer of funds for provisioning and weapons. Tell them, Jers.”

He grinned, as if pleased she’d used his nickname. “Elves as fighting companions—I admit Blor and I haven’t had that chance before, but we’ve heard plenty of tales. It’s equal shares for all who come with us,” he said.

The two elves looked at each other for a long, utterly still moment.

Mead broke it. “We’ll go, then.”

Eddis opened her eyes groggily. First light was pale in her window—not enough to have wakened her. A scratching on the door panel brought her fully alert.

“M’Baddah, what?” she asked as she scrambled to her feet and hauled the dark shirt over her head.

“It is no great rush, my Eddis,” his low voice came through the window slit “I merely came to keep Jerdren from pounding at your door to waken you. He is greatly excited and babbled something about a full company or more awaiting you both, outside the tavern.”

She scrubbed sleep from her eyes and felt for her trousers. “Outside—you mean, even the tavern isn’t open yet?”

“Not quite yet, my Eddis.”

“Tell Jerdren he’s a dead man for even thinking about beating on my door this early, and I’ll be there when I’m dressed and cleaned up. Not before!”

By the time she had replaited her hair and pulled on her boots, sunlight slanted through the little window and across the fountain square. A few merchants were beginning to set up for business. The tavern door was open, and the odor of freshly baked loaves and hot, fried meat carried her through the door, where it was almost as gloomy as it had been the night before.

Jerdren’s shout of welcome hit her from across the room. M’Baddah reached her at the same moment.

“I’ll kill him yet,” she mumbled and let her lieutenant escort her over to the now familiar corner. Jerdren, his brother, and Willow had the table to themselves at the moment. Half a dozen hard-looking armsmen sat together nearby.

Willow laughed quietly as Eddis settled on a stool. “Are early hours as good for you as ever, Eddis?”

“Rrrrr,” Eddis replied and gave Jerdren a gimlet-eyed glare. “Early,” she informed him flatly, “is essential on the road. Not here.”

“I agree,” Blorys said. He handed her a cup and a thick slice of pale, heavily seeded bread, shoved a pot of thick fruit spread her way, then sat back to quietly wait until shed had a little to eat and drink. When Jerdren leaned forward to say something, Blorys tapped the man’s shoulder and shook his head firmly.

Thank you, Blorys, Eddis thought grimly. Keep the man quiet, and he won’t wind up wearing the pot of fruit. She finally set her cup down and eyed Jerdren questioningly.

“What’s been done?”

“Without you?” he demanded sourly. “Nothing. You and I agreed—equals, remember? Those,” he gestured toward the table of men, “are Ferec’s contribution. I know a few of ’em, but none well.”

“Fine. Let’s start,” Eddis said and turned to catch the attention of the nearest man.

By midday, they had a solid core group of thirteen and another ten men in reserve. Those going would be themselves, the two elves, and six of Ferec’s men who knew the area well, who had tracked and ambushed stray men and creatures, including a burly older fellow who served as cook for hunting parties. A good part of the afternoon was spent questioning the Keep men and going over Jerdren’s maps with them. There were small stray bands of men to be found almost anywhere, Eddis learned, but most of them fled if confronted with a few swords. Now and again the guards encountered a regular clutch of armed men, but they also tended to evade a fight as well.

“Possibly under orders,” one of the men said.

There were plenty of rumors of other creatures, but while several of the men here had almost seen something neither human nor beast, close questioning by Eddis revealed few actual sightings.

“That’s good,” she said finally.

“What do you have against fighting creatures?” Jerdren wanted to know. “Take out a horde of goblins or even kobolds—they’re cowards unless they outnumber you, mind—and I wager these peopled be grateful indeed.”

She bit back a sigh. “Let’s deal with what we know first and with the actual threat to the Keep—armed men, a company of bandits attacking caravans, if you remember? Besides, it just might take more than a few hours together out there before we’re a proper band of fighters and not a collection of volunteers who don’t know a thing about each other’s fighting styles, skills, and drawbacks. I’d rather not take on a horde of kobolds or anything else when I don’t know who or what’s protecting my back.”

Jerdren gave her a sidelong look but said nothing more on the subject.

“You sure thirteen’s enough?” she asked finally.

“Remember what you just said about fighting styles, Eddis? The more of us there are, the more of a problem that becomes. Besides, a larger party would just be more visible, and that could make it a lot harder to sneak up on those bandits.”

“Remember, we have a backup list of men here. We can always send for reinforcements if we think we’ll need them,” Blorys reminded them both.

“Good point,” Eddis said and went over the list one more time. “Since you want a session or two of weapon practice before we go, I’m thinking we’d better have those men join the rest of us, before we go.”

The castellan, true to his word, sent out one of his aides that afternoon, and the man accompanied Eddis and Jerdren to the traders and then the provisioner’s, making arrangements for the party to have funds for the journey. Eddis bought new daggers, a clutch of arrows and several new bowstrings, a spare pack for food and enough plain provisions, travel bread, dried fruit and plain dried meat to fill it. She finished the day utterly exhausted and slept the entire night without dreaming.

Two more busy days followed. Jerdren watched as each of the Keep men demonstrated his sword, bow, or spear skills, and he ran them through some basic maneuvers often enough that Eddis felt comfortable she’d be part of an organized company if someone or something attacked them.

By midmorning the next day, she, Jerdren and M’Baddah had completed a tour of the walls of the inner bailey, looking for the best place to get their people down to level ground. M’Baddah had been right, though. The only practical places for a company to descend by rope were along the east wall, where the ledge was narrow and the rocky heights steep but not undercut. Still, Jerdren insisted on a full tour of the walls, so he could check all possible spots. Maybe he simply liked being on the walls, and she had to admit the view in all directions was spectacular.

That evening, the party met in the stables, where their goods had been temporarily piled up in two stalls.

“All right,” Jerdren said. “We’ve maps, and we’ve been over what plans we can make up here, but a lot may change once we’re down, as most of you know. My suggestion is that you make certain of your goods now, see that everything’s done up the way you want it, and that you know where things are stowed. Then each of you get an early night, if you can. We’ll want one more check of the local stores tomorrow. No sense in losing your life out there because you lacked a single dagger.”

“Good point,” Eddis said as he glanced her way. “Tomorrow, we’ll meet for a midday meal, and after that I suggest we all rest until sunset. We won’t be moving all night tomorrow night, but we’ll need all the reserves we’ve got to get down the ropes and into the trees before moonrise. Questions?”

There were none. After an extensive opening and retying of parcels, checking of weapons and belts, leather bags of goods, and quivers of arrows, the party dispersed by twos and threes. Finally, only Jerdren and Eddis were left.

“All right?” Eddis asked finally.

Jerdren shrugged. “So far,” he allowed. “Ask me again, once we’re out there.”