A Hero's Tale (31 page)

Bru ordered the tents taken down, all but one. He would sleep rough with his men, he said, as he had always done. He assigned the remaining tent to me.

"I may be the king," he told me, "but you are the angel of this enterprise. I want you where no one can get at you. If we still harbor a traitor in our midst, who may try to take revenge in Elen's name, or even in the king's, it will be easier to guard the tent than to guard you in the open."

I was about to protest that I didn't need protecting, until he said, "Maara too may still be in danger from someone loyal to the dead king, Elen's husband." Then I was willing to accept his precautions.

"We must see that everyone is told of Maara's innocence," I said, and remembering Bru's words in Elen's tent, I added, "How did you know that it was Elen who killed her husband?"

"I didn't." He looked surprised. "Did she?"

I nodded. "When you accused her, I saw at once what must have happened."

"When I accused her?"

"Yes."

"Did I? What did I say?"

"You accused her of intending to use Maara to rid herself of another unwanted husband."

"Oh," said Bru. "I suppose I did. I was trying to make her angry. I didn't think about it."

"But once you said it, I knew it must be true. Such things aren't plucked from thin air."

Bru looked puzzled. "Is it true then? Was the king murdered on her command?"

"More than command it," I said, "she did the deed herself. After you left me in her tent, I confronted her. I accused her, and I got her to admit it."

"I'm glad to hear of this," he said, "because if any of the common folk still feel some loyalty to the queen, her betrayal of her husband will cost her their sympathy. And I'll feel more at ease about Maara's safety, once Elen's guilt becomes common knowledge."

"Then let us send for Finn," I said. "If anyone can tell this tale in a way that will carry it to every campfire, he can."

Bru agreed with me, and Finn was sent for. Though it was Maara's story to tell, I asked her to let me tell it. It would be painful enough for her just to listen to.

I took the time to tell almost the whole story. I left out only Maara's love for Elen and the cruel way that Elen provoked Maara's jealousy, to convince others, as well as Maara herself, that she had reason to kill the king. I began with Maara's tendency to ghostwalk. Maara knew she did it, and Elen must have known. I told Finn the story as Maara had first told it to me, of Elen waking her in the middle of the night, of the sight of both of them covered with blood, of finding the knife in her hand.

As I told the part about Elen sending Maara from the house, in bloody clothing, in possession of the king's knife, Finn's thoughts were already running on ahead of me. I knew that when he told the story, his listeners too would see what must have happened before the words were out of his mouth, so that he would not have to persuade them of the truth. The telling would confirm what they had already understood.

Finn turned to Maara. "She meant you to be caught," he said.

"I suppose she did," Maara replied.

"Did you believe you killed the king?"

Maara hesitated before she answered him. "Yes and no," she said. "I believed it might be possible. That belief was painful, but it also was a shield."

"Less painful than believing Elen had betrayed you."

Maara nodded.

"Why did you keep the knife?" he asked her.

"When I was hiding in the forest, trying to stay alive, I found it useful. After all, it was just a knife."

"So you took it with you to the house of kindness?"

"Yes."

"And gave it to the wolf child." Finn's eyes sparkled. "Not even the most cunning storyteller could conjure such a thing. The queen sent forth the knife with which she had committed murder, and it came back to her, bearing witness to her guilt and bringing retribution."

As darkness fell, Finn went about among the common folk, telling the story I had just told him, along with several more, to bring home to them the greatness of the deeds they'd done that day.

The place already had a name. It was called Totha's field, and many who had taken part in the brief battle with the mighty swore they had seen the man himself, as he was described in song, but in ghostly form, so that a sword's thrust went through him as through a wisp of fog.

Finn was not fluent in the language of the mighty, so he found a few who were and sent them to carry the story of Elen's treachery and Maara's innocence to the young king's men. If it stirred their anger against Elen, I didn't care, if only it kept Maara safe.

Bru had several cattle slaughtered, to ensure that everyone in the encampment would be well fed and to provide rations for the journey home. The smell of roasting beef also masked the smell of the funeral pyres. When they returned from burying their dead, the northern chieftains joined us at the council fire. We served them a generous dinner, but they had little appetite. Their day's work had left them deep in mourning.

"Did they raise a cairn?" I asked their go-between.

"There was no time today. Perhaps in the morning, before we go."

I turned to Bru. "It would be a gesture of goodwill if you could have your men help the northerners raise a cairn over their dead."

"Of course," he said, "though few now keep such ancient customs."

"My people do," I said. "It's been many years since we fought on a distant battlefield, but when we pass the cairns raised long ago, we set new stones upon them. They keep the dead alive in memory."

"They also keep the wolves from digging up their bones," said Bru.

"That too," I said. I turned back to the go-between. "If we are welcome, Bru's men will help you in the morning."

She spoke with the northern chieftains, then nodded their assent to me.

"They will be grateful," she said.

They would be less grateful, I thought, if they knew the part I had played in their defeat. All afternoon, as I sat by the council fire with nothing else to think about, I had been defending myself against the knowledge that all these dead had died because of me. It was I who sent Elen's army out against the northern tribes, and with it the young king's men, and it was I who encouraged Bru to incite Elen's anger against the young king. Now it was late, and I was tired, and my defenses gave way.

Maara felt me change. "What?" she whispered.

"This is my fault."

I spoke in the language of the mighty, not wanting to remind Bru that I still had a woman's heart. Then I remembered that the northerner's go-between was within earshot.

"What are you talking about?" asked Maara. "What is your fault?"

This time I spoke in the language of Bru's people.

"The dead," I told her.

"Oh," she replied. "Which dead do you mean? Elen's dead? The king's?"

She sounded out of patience with me.

"Those too," I said, "but just now I was thinking of the northern dead." I turned to face her. "Did you see the battlefield?"

"No. I didn't need to. I've seen battlefields before."

"Hundreds died."

"Yes," she said. "Warriors died."

She meant to remind me of something she had told me long ago, that nothing done on the battlefield need be forgiven.

"They gave their consent," she said. "Better they should die killing the warriors of the mighty than the warriors of Merin's house."

"I know."

That didn't make me feel any better.

"At least, when they go to fight Merin's people now, their strength will be that much less."

"What?"

"Did you think they would go home? What have they to go home to? What drove them to gather an army in the first place, to take such a risk as this?"

Then I understood. She had been eavesdropping.

"What have you heard?" I asked her.

"Somehow Vintel has managed to raise an army. Before their encounter with Elen, the northerners were certain their army was greater than Vintel's. Now they're not so sure, but they feel they have little more to lose, and they believe the prize will be worth the sacrifice."

"Oh."

"I was going to speak to you about this later, in private," she said, "but I think it would be best to deal with it now."

I felt my shoulders sag, as if the weight of this new challenge was more than they could bear.

"I have no idea what to do," I told her.

"You could begin by telling Bru the truth."

Bru heard his name. "Tell me the truth about what?"

"About who she is," said Maara.

"Who is she then? Is she not Tamras, a daughter of the house of kindness?"

Maara looked at me, waiting for my permission to speak. I nodded my consent.

"She is that and more," said Maara. "She is the rightful heir of the house of kindness, which we call Merin's house. Vintel, Merin's war leader, betrayed her and drove her into exile."

"Vintel?" said Bru. "I've heard that name before."

"We believe it was Vintel who killed Finn's brother," she said. "It was certainly Vintel who struck off his hand."

"Ah yes," he said. "Of course I remember her. And now she has displaced the rightful heir? How do such things come about?"

"It's a tale too long to tell," she said. "We were hoping to return home this spring to find the situation changed or to join with any of Merin's people who would oppose Vintel, but today I learned from the northerners that Vintel still leads Merin's warriors, and Merin's allies must have joined her, because she has an army at her command."

"What do you intend to do?" Bru asked me.

"I must go home," I said.

Bru looked past me to Maara. "What are your plans?"

"We haven't any," she replied. "We have not yet had a chance to talk this over. The northerners still seem intent on challenging Vintel. They have little to go home to and much to gain by Vintel's defeat. If we go home now, we'll be in the middle of a war."

Bru's eyes came back to me. "If you're going to war, you'll need an army of your own. It's fortunate you have one."

"I do?"

"Every man who follows me, will follow you."

I didn't see what good an army would do me. "I can't fight my own people," I said.

"Who said anything about fighting them?" Bru replied. "If you are strong enough, no one will be eager to fight you. First we must persuade these chieftains of the northern tribes that we would take it ill if they made war upon our friends. Then perhaps we can persuade your people to hear your cause."

"With Bru's help," Maara said, "we can take you to confront Vintel and keep you safe. If we go back alone, we'll be in her power."

"Bru has done so much for me already. How can I ask him to do more?"

"Nonsense," said Bru. "You've brought me home from exile. I would consider it a privilege if you allow me to return the favor."

"You have a people waiting for their king," I reminded him.

"They have waited for generations," he said. "They can wait a few weeks more." He turned to Maara. "Will you make my offer understood to the northern chieftains?"

She nodded.

"Tell them that from Elen's wealth I will give them grain and cattle, some to take with them now and more after the harvest, to show my gratitude for their help this day."

While Maara conveyed his message, I watched their faces. They listened with interest and respect, but waited to hear his conditions.

"Tell them," said Bru, "that I wish to build upon our friendship, begun as an alliance against a common enemy. I ask that they also accept an alliance with our friends, the kind folk of Merin's house, once we have restored to power Merin's rightful heir."

Maara spoke again to the northern chieftains, and this time they looked more cautious. They talked among themselves for several minutes. Then their go-between addressed Maara directly in the language of the mighty.

"Who is this rightful heir?" she asked.

Maara looked at me.

"Tell your chieftains," I said, "that Vintel, who has treated them with such ruthlessness, took Merin's power for herself and forced me into exile. I am Merin's heir, and I intend, with Bru's help, to challenge Vintel."

The go-between repeated this to the northern chieftains. Then the wolfskin chieftain spoke to me directly.

"He offers to join forces with you," said the go-between, "to help you defeat your enemy."

Maara leaned toward me and whispered, "This is not an offer made out of friendship. He means us to fight alongside them against Vintel, and if we prevail, your victory will put you under an obligation to them."

"In any case I can't take up arms against Vintel," I replied. "She may still have with her those I once counted as my friends."

"If Vintel has raised an army, our friends will be among them. Even those who oppose Vintel's leadership will have been compelled to join her. Your friends don't know if you're alive or dead. They have no choice but to follow anyone who can lead them against their enemies."

"It would be a poor beginning," I said to the go-between, "if I were to ally myself to the adversaries of my people with the intent to shed their blood. That I will not do, and if you attempt to harm them, I will oppose you with all the strength at my command."

This assertion was not well received by the northern chieftains.

"I don't intend to impose my leadership on anyone," I said. "All I seek is the opportunity to let my people choose whom they will follow. For that Bru's help is all I need. We have strength enough to force a parley with Vintel."

I hoped that was true.

"What would you have us do?" said the go-between.

My first thought was to ask the northerners to stay where they were, to await the outcome of my meeting with Vintel. Then I thought again. Whatever the result might be, the northern army would still have to be dealt with. It would be safer to keep them in my sight, and as much as possible under my control. If they joined us, we would could confront Vintel with overwhelming strength, and perhaps also end the conflict between the northern tribes and the people of Merin's house.

"With your help," I said, "we may bring Vintel to parley that much sooner, but I must be certain that we will all act together. Tell your chieftains I would be grateful if they will place themselves under my command."