The Still

Chapter 27

Hester scowled. “Perhaps I turned into a bird.”

I said, “I don’t see why you won’t tell me.” I tried not to let my voice go sulky, but I was hungry, cold, and tired. The stew-pot bubbled over the fire, but dinner wanted an hour or more.

Sitting against the wagon’s muddy wheels, Anavar and Garst watched with wonder. Anavar’s forehead was bound. Garst’s shoulder was bandaged, his arm in a sling.

The old woman sighed. “I took myself to a safe place. Ask rather: why had I to flee, amid such an escort? We should have been-”

Tursel stepped into the firelight. “I might answer that.”

Fostrow shot him a baleful look.

“Not here.” I stood, shivered again. The stream where I’d bathed had been too cold. “Your tent.”

Fostrow stirred anew. “Don’t go in the dark with him, my lord. He might-”

“If he wanted me dead, it would be done.”

The captain’s tent was larger than all but mine, which Rustin shared. Within the canvas, dark green cloths hung as further protection from the wind. A row of candles sat on a low bench.

I closed the flap, took a seat on a trunk. “Well?”

He sighed, making himself comfortable on bed pillows. “Sallit and Teir, two of our scouts, are gone, their bodies not found.”

“Betrayal?”

“So it seems. I’d posted them on the western heights, but it appears they traded places with Harg and Varian. Some tale about wishing to stay closer to camp.”

“You allowed this?”

“Of course not!” For once, he seemed angry.

“Harg and Varian were assigned …”

“Our right flank, on the east”

“Where the invaders were hid.” I was silent a moment. “How do you know it’s not Harg and Varian, lying about switching posts?”

“The truth will out, before morn.”

I shivered. “Torture?”

“Persuasion.”

I stood to pace. “Tursel, you’re too … bloodthirsty for my taste. Bring them here; let’s question them together.”

“We’re at war, sire, not a game of rooks and kings. Traitors deserve no mercy.”

“Nonetheless, do as I ask.”

“Aye, my lord.” He hesitated. “I assume you’ll appoint another captain over me?”

“For disputing my orders?”

He seemed surprised. “Of course not; it’s my duty to say when you’re wrong. I meant for allowing Tantroth’s men at you.”

“It’s not an auspicious start. You said you know your men.”

“Yes. Not only were our scouts remiss, but Tantroth’s host knew just where to find us. One way or another, treachery is at work. I can only assure you it’s not mine.”

“Imbar spoke well of you.”

“Did he?” Tursel showed no interest. “It was my lord Raeth who trained me.”

“Personally?”

“From a boy.” Did he flush, in the dim light? I couldn’t be sure. He asked, “Is there else, sire?”

“No. Um, yes. Fostrow.”

Tursel sat. “What about him?”

I hadn’t eaten, and diplomacy deserted me. “By the demons’ own lake, you know well what I ask!”

“I apologize if I’ve offended-”

“You offend me at this moment! Speak!”

He faced me. “I sent him to the rear, away from you.”

“Why?”

“I’m responsible for your safety. I don’t know him.”

My tone was scornful. “Think you he’d betray me?”

“He was Margenthar’s man.”

I said, “He could have killed me when first we met.”

“Perhaps it didn’t suit Mar’s purpose, then.” He shifted. “Politics is a high and bloody game, and I have no head for it. All I know is that while it’s my task to protect you, I’ll have men I know at your side.”

I laughed, and the sound came harsh. “Why not banish Rustin too?”

“I’ve considered it.” His tone was somber. “Sire, do you understand how grave a portent it is, that Tantroth’s force lay in wait for us?”

At length, I said, “Tursel, answer me clearly. Am I your prisoner or no?”

“Of course not!”

“Am I free to leave your tent?”

“Yes, sire.”

“Your camp?”

His eyes closed briefly, as if in pain. “Aye.”

“Whom do you serve?”

“You, sire.”

“In truth!”

He repeated, more slowly, “You, sire.”

I pulled my seat closer. “Then heed me. All those of my original party may have free access to my person. That includes Fostrow.”

“Aye, sire.”

“Bring the scouts Harg and Varian, separately, for questioning.”

“Here?”

“Or my own tent, if you prefer.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Here, sire.”

Harg was the first to appear, held between two burly soldiers. They sat him on the trunk.

Once released, he swayed back and forth, nursing a hand. When I went to take it he made a sound of protest, resisted.

“Let me see.”

Reluctantly, he opened his fingers, to reveal red and oozing blisters.

“Persuasion.” I spat the word. “You, soldier, bring ointment and a cloth.” The man looked to Tursel for confirmation, and it enraged me. I snarled. “Who commands here?”

“Captain Tursel, sir.”

Tursel said quietly, “The Prince commands overall. Go.”

I studied Harg. His face drawn and sallow, he looked exhausted.

“You’ve done wrong.”

He nodded, but couldn’t meet my eyes.

“Tell me.”

The scout stammered in his eagerness to comply. “As I said, sir. They asked to switch places. I know I shouldn’t have … we saw no harm, at the time.”

“What reason did they give?”

“They always drew the lot farthest from camp, and we owed them a change.”

Tursel shouted, “The truth!”

Harg cringed. “It’s true.”

I pondered. His story was too simple, and some sense told me to be wary.

Though we treated his burns, though I pleaded and Tursel blustered, we could get no more from him.

For a long while, Varian said likewise. I treated him kindly, even had him brought a bowl of soup. He left it untouched. Despite all our efforts, his story remained the same.

I thought to sit next to him, and took away the bowl that blocked my place. As I set it upon the trunk, my free hand passed over it, and a great weariness washed over me. For a moment I stood, hands outstretched, over the still liquid.

Behind me, Tursel snarled, “You try the Prince’s patience. Confess, and be quick!”

“Varian, the authority is mine to pardon or condemn you. Tell the rest.” Something pulled at my consciousness, and I tried to shake it away.

“I’ve told-”

My voice was low, insistent. “I would hear what’s missing from your story.” Why did I speak so? I felt a vague alarm.

He cried, “I did no treason!”

That was it. “I know.” As if soothing an unreachable itch, I repeated, “I know.” My eyes fastened on the unfortunate scout. “Tell me.”

“Sallit-I’m sorry, Captain-he had bottles hid under the supply cart, and his platoon knew. He was afraid they’d steal his drink, unless he was posted near.”

“Why did you care?”

Varian’s eyes fell. “He shared with us.”

Silence.

Tursel blinked.

I said, “Take him outside.” When we were alone I added, “Now it’s complete.”

“You can’t be sure.”

“As sure as I need be. Pardon the scouts, but don’t trust them again. Send them back to Cumber.”

“If they’re Tantroth’s men they’ll flee.”

“And then we’ll know. It’s no matter; they’ve done their harm.” I held his eyes until he assented.

Back at our campfire, I wolfed down my stew, but Fostrow assaulted me before I’d finished. “What of the two soldiers you brought into our fold? Do we bind them for the night?”

“Whatever for?” I looked across the fire, where the two wounded boys dozed under a blanket.

“Do you covet a knife in the ribs, my lord? Hours past, they were bent on killing you.”

“What would you do?”

“Send them away, at the least.”

I raised my voice. “Anavar, come here.”

Obediently, the younger boy thrust off his blanket, circled the fire. As he came close, he stumbled. “Sorry, sire. I’m dizzy.” He touched his bandage.

“Will you try to kill me in the night?”

He looked startled. “No, sire.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“I swore to you, sire.”

Rustin stirred. “Did you not likewise swear to Tantroth?”

Anavar’s expression was bleak. “Yes.”

“So, then?”

He shrugged. “I did all I could; my loyalty to him is paid. You’d have killed me had I not sworn fealty.”

Rustin said, “It’s that clear, in your mind?”

A pause. “No, but it’s all I have.”

My voice was gruff. “Have you weapons?”

“I lost my pike, and they took my knife after I fell.”

“Go to your blanket. I’ll trust your new loyalty, but don’t go prowling in the night.”

“Aye, my lord.” He retreated.

I yawned. “See? He said he wouldn’t kill me.”

Rust snorted. “You risk Elryc as well.”

I flared, “What, then? Cut his throat, as Herat would?”

“No. Not that.” For a long while he was silent.

Later, in the warmth of our bed, Rustin whispered, “I’d not have taken them as bondsmen.”

I stirred. “Was I wrong?”

“No.” A time passed. “Such gestures suit a king.”

“I’m weary.” I settled my head on his shoulder, and slept.

We crossed endless hills, and never saw Tantroth’s troops.

Two days dragged past. Soushire was near, and Hester was determined to turn to Verein when the road split.

Garst plodded alongside the cart. At first Anavar did the same, but within a day Genard had wangled a place for him on Hester’s wagon, where he himself rode.

Elryc, after the attack, fastened himself to me and followed wherever Rustin and I roamed. He was full of questions, and brimmed with energy. I began to suspect his fear, but for his sake, made no mention of it.

Where the road was wide enough we rode four abreast: Fostrow, Elryc, Rustin, and I. Tursel cantered his mare up and down the line, closing gaps, urging the guards to greater vigilance.

At a pause, Anavar brought me water in a bucket. He set it down, offered me the scoop.

“Thank you.” I drank, without dismounting. “Whose thought was this?”

He colored. “The old woman’s.”

“Dame Hester, to you.”

“Aye, sire. Dame Hester. Sire, what will my duties be?”

“I haven’t decided.” I scowled. “You would work?”

His head came up proudly. “I ask no man’s charity.”

“You ask not mine? Would you rather I let you starve, while you heal?”

He flushed. “No, sire.”

“Then hold your tongue. Back to the wagon.”

When he was gone Rustin said mildly, “He only asked how he could serve you.”

“Let him stay out of sight until I need him.”

A sigh. “I’m glad the old Roddy hasn’t vanished entirely. I’d feel useless.”

Elryc hid a smile, but not before I saw.

I spurred Ebon, rode ahead.

I needed two young bondsmen like I needed … extra teeth. They were in the way. A nuisance. I brooded for much of the afternoon.

When at last we stopped for the night I sent Garst to get fodder, and took Anavar aside. He was to fetch and carry, I told him, to help light fires, stir our soup, set our tents. Make himself useful round the camp.

His manner was subdued but resentful. “My father is Duke of Kalb.”

“And you’re bound as page to Treak, Tantroth’s cousin. So?”

“Can you not find more fit work-”

This, after saving his life? Where was the gratitude I deserved? “Do as I command, or flee and prove the worth of Eiber’s oath. I won’t chase you.”

The boy sucked in breath, but his eyes never left mine. Perhaps I’d said enough. I let him be.

Late at night, in the tent, Rustin barely listened to my tale. “We’ve more to worry about, Roddy. By morrow’s end we should reach Soushire’s realm. Best you send envoys.”

“To say what?”

“That you come peaceably, and would confer with her.”

“If she refuses?”

“As I told you days ago, leave without a quarrel, and try Groenfil.”

Outside, wind howled, and I shivered. “If Soushire knows Uncle Raeth’s contempt for her, she won’t join us for all the gold in the realm.”

“She may not know. Send word we’re arriving, and we’ll decide how best to confront her when she’s in our sight.”

I grumbled, “Easy for you to say. It’s not your crown we seek, or your Power that’s stolen.”

We made ready for our last day’s ride. Genard raced up to me, stopped just short of knocking me down. “He’s gone, m’lord! I’ve looked everywhere.”

I snorted. “Anavar? I figured as much.”

“Var is helping Hester load. It’s Garst!”

“Tell Captain Tursel.”

He ran off, and I mounted, pondering.

We rode in the middle of the column, guards at the ready, whether for Tantroth or Soushire, I couldn’t tell.

When I caught sight of Hester’s wagon I beckoned Anavar to approach. He trotted to Ebon’s bridle, trotted between me and Rustin as we rode. “Did Garst tell you he was leaving?”

He hesitated. “No.”

“If he had, would you have warned me?”

“My lord, I-no.”

Rustin sucked in his breath at the boy’s audacity, but I approved of his spirit. Nonetheless, I glowered. “What shall I do with you?”

Anavar panted from the exertion of keeping pace. “I did no wrong, sir.”

“But you would have.” Knowing I sounded childish, I let it be. After a time, when he was well winded, I sent him back to the wagon.

We wound our way from the hills onto a broad flat plain: the flats of Soushire. Only there, amid the well-tended fields did Tursel relax his guard, and join us on the wide dusty road to Castle Town.

I looked for a discreet way to mention Garst’s disappearance, but Tursel saved me the trouble. “So your prisoner’s on the loose, sire. An oath lightly given, to escape his fate.”

I slapped my saddle with a flash of irritation. “Tursel, what would you have done, in his place?”

“Not let myself be taken.”

“Say you were clubbed from behind, and woke in enemy hands.”

“I’d expect death, and wouldn’t beg mercy.”

Rustin intervened. “Is it not done, in war?”

Tursel’s words were clipped. “Perhaps by others.”

“But not by one so honorable as yourself.”

The captain snapped, “At least I know what honor is. It’s not surprising the son of a traitor does not.”

Rustin’s hand flew to his sword. “You dare-Sir, accept my chall-”

“Enough!” Ebon startled at my raw scream. I soothed him. “Captain, leave us. Rust, be silent. No! I said to be still, and I meant it!” It was the first time ever I spoke to him so.

In the afternoon couriers approached from Soushire’s Castle Town. To my surprise, the Duchess responded to our envoys with a note of welcome, bidding our escort to camp in her fields, and offering my personal party the hospitality of her citadel.

Reading the scroll, Tursel frowned. “We shouldn’t be divided.”

“She gives the usual assurances of safe passage.”

“Words mean nothing.”

I shrugged. “You can’t expect her to invite us all into her keep; she hasn’t the room.”

“Then camp among us. Treat with her elsewhere.”

Rustin. “She’d take it as insult.”

“Roddy! Look!” Elryc rushed from the wagon, pointing down the road.

I peered. Soldiers, our own. Wagons. And Garst.

His walk was awkward, almost a limp, but purposeful. At last, travel-worn, his bandage awry, he came to a stop before me. From Hester’s wagon, Anavar watched wide-eyed.

“Well.” It was all I could think to say. It brought no response. “Explain yourself.”

“I … came back.”

“From?”

“I crept off before dawn, to find my people. It wasn’t fair I should be your bondsman all my life, for answering my duke’s call.” His eyes darted about, as if seeking escape, then fastened reluctantly on mine. “But … I gave my oath. Imps and demons would pursue me evermore, if I failed it. So … I turned around, chased after you.”

“After he reported our position to his regiment.” Tursel’s tone was cynical. “They set him to spy on us.”

“I never found them. I gave up looking after a league, when I realized-”

I cleared my throat. “Captain, your scouts searched and found no foes. How could Garst wander from camp and make contact, not knowing even where to look? I believe him.”

“He’s not worth the risk.”

“Garst, your return doesn’t excuse your flight. In future, recall your oath before you violate it. Rust, take him to Fostrow, have him thrashed. Hurry back; we have to decide about Soushire.”

Rustin grabbed the youth’s arm.

Garst cried, “Sir, I beg thy grace. I returned on my own, and-”

With a sweeping blow, Rustin knocked him to the ground. “Now!” He hauled Garst to his feet, gave him a shove.

The boy went, protesting loudly. Tursel watched their retreating backs. “You’ll be sorry.”

“If so, it’s my concern.”

We pressed on, eager to reach Castle Town before dark.

Not long after, Anavar trotted over from our cart, summoning me to Hester.

The old woman favored me with a cross look. “There’s a road a league hence, that will lead me west to Verein. No, don’t argue; I must see to Pytor. The question is, what of Elryc, and where will the girl ride?” She glanced back at Chela, who, as usual, seemed sullen.

“Are you well enough for a horse?” It was the first time in days I’d addressed Chela directly.

“Have you spare, for one lowly as me?” Her sarcasm dripped.

“Answer!”

“Yes!”

I turned to Hester. “She’ll ride with us. As for Elryc, it’s not safe to take him to Margenthar’s lair.”

I expected fierce argument, but all she said was, “I know.”

“It’s not safe for you either.”

Hester sighed. “I have no choice. I go, for my lady, and my boy.”

My voice was strained. “Hester, my business is here.”

For the first time in months, her voice was gentle. “You must seek the crown. My lady approves. With all her heart, she wished you to have it.”

She leaned forward, gripped my wrist. “I leave Elryc in your charge. Swear by the True of Caledon that you will protect him and tend his needs.”

“I’ve already sworn-”

“To him, perhaps, but not to me!” Her visage brooked no refusal.

I gave the oath, sitting on Ebon alongside the wagon.

“Elryc wants affection, as well as food and drink. Will you give him that?” Her tone was wistful.

I swallowed. “It’s not much in my nature. I’ll try.”

“Be kind to Genard also. There’s good in him.”

My lips were dry. “Is this farewell?”

“For a time. I’ll be back, with Pytor.” She beckoned me close. “Take care to don clean clothes.” Her fingers tidied my hair as if I were a child. “And listen to Rustin. He has sense, for a boy. Now, that Tursel …” Her glance flickered, to make sure we weren’t overheard. “Trust his loyalty, but not his wit.”

“Is he Raeth’s man, or mine?”

“He doesn’t know himself, I think. For now, it’s the same.”

Anavar was near, so I changed the subject. “Will you ride alone?”

“I’ve spoken to Tursel; he’ll lend a few soldiers to help speed my way. When we near Verein they’ll turn back.”

I nodded.

“Take care for Elryc!” It was a plea from her heart.

Dismounting, I tied Ebon to the rail, swung aboard the cart. “Nurse …” For a moment, I yearned to put my head in her lap.

“Oh, Roddy.” Her hand darted out, pulled back. She cleared her throat. “You’re a babe no longer.” She busied herself with bags and boxes. “Go. Make yourself King.”