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Authors: Andre Norton

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BOOK: Silver May Tarnish
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“Where do we seek?”
“I think it best we go far North. At least as far as Jurby before we turn for home again. See here,” I sketched with my finger in the dirt. “Here are the dales and the coast. Here the invaders landed and all through this portion of the land they laid waste to anything they found. It is here the people who survived may be most desperate. In some places the machines the invader used destroyed the very land. Fouling and burning. Erondale was one such dale so I know how little is left. We ride as far North as possible, then once we turn, we begin to seek out those who will risk a new dale. A new lord and lady.”
I saw her look quickly at me, then aside. I said nothing. I had known her for my heart's lady when first she stood before me, but I knew, too, that what one feels is not always felt by the other. I would show her I was not of the kind of some lords who deemed any woman not of noble blood to be fair game. I would woo her slowly. There was time. We were like to be gone from Honeycoombe many months. Mayhap even a year. Surely over so long I could incline her heart to mine.
“I would go first to Tildale,” I continued. “My friend
Aran lives there. If he will join us then we shall have a good sword and a valiant friend. He will know the dales about him and may be able to advise us whom else to speak to who may be interested.”
I looked across the fire into her eyes. “There is something else. I am Lorcan of Erondale and my dale is no more. But within it still lies wealth.” Her eyes widened.
“Aye, indeed. Long ago the Lord of Erondale did a service. For that he was given treasure by one of the Old Ones. Erondale's lords since then have kept it hid, used it little and wisely. When Erondale fell that treasure was unfound. I was a child and knew not, but Berond, our master-at-arms who escaped with me, knew the secret and revealed it to me before he died. When the war was ended I rode to Erondale to see. The treasure lies there still, unless some other has come since last I rode by. I think it unlikely. The coin is well hid and secured. It is in silver coin mostly, with some copper and a little gold, a few gems.” I reached out my charm bag and spilled the contents into my palm.
“See you. Here is what I carried against great need.” Among the pinches of dried herbs the gems and small gold coins glinted in the firelight. “Listen, Meive. If aught happens to me, let you take this and return to Honeycoombe with any who would come whom you trust. There is still wealth enough to aid in the rebuilding.” She nodded silently.
“Good. As for Erondale we will pass by when we return.” I grinned darkly. “I have a plan whereby we may take much of the hidden coin with us then. None shall know what we have. I will buy supplies, none anywhere so much it arouses suspicion. Once we get them safely back to Honeycoombe, we can begin to rebuild. The people can live on what is purchased.” I remembered the many goats, smiled, and added, “And on goat stew,” while Meive chuckled. “Once we have the keep repaired and a guardhouse built at the edge of the dale, we can put in crops. I
would see that inner valley of yours fortified also. What do you think, my Lady?”
“I think it is well. I have wished many times that we had kept a better guard. Then when Neeco came sliding like a snake in the heather we would have had warning. Perhaps some of the men could have held him and his back until others got to safety.”
I could make no true reply to that. It seemed from what Meive had said of events, that the Lord of Landale had never thought of treachery. He may have believed that isolated and hard to find as the dale was he had little to fear. Even when the larger dale nearby was ravaged he took few precautions. He had paid high. Let the Gods judge his folly, it was the innocents I regretted, though I said none of that to Meive.
“Meive?” She could write. “Once we turn back, let us buy writing materials. I think it would be well if both of us wrote the stories of how our dales fell. Let those who rule after us remember our stories as a warning. Let them know they must ever guard and not forget that, no matter how long it be, evil may still come creeping. They must be always vigilant.”
“That sounds well.” She turned to another subject. “Lorcan, do you mean to expand the keep? And where shall we obtain the stone?” We began discussion on that and I said no more on the death of Landale.
The land seemed empty as we rode, yet it was not. The winged-warriors told of those who saw us and hid. Twice they warned of larger groups so that it was we who turned aside. I had taken the less-used trail through the hills close to the fringes of the great Waste. We had supplies enough, and on this path fewer would mark our going. With the winged-ones we feared no ambush, and I believed that no handful of outlaws would attack two well-armed mounted fighters unless there were a number of such bandits to make the attack.
There will always be outlaws so long as men wish to
gain without work. But now the war was done, lords would begin to move against those who despoiled the land. Some might do so because the lord preferred no competition. But most had a real concern for those of their dale. Meive and I knew we must be cautious. Some daleslords would not appreciate our luring away of their people. We would approach only those who no longer had a place in which to live, those who were lordless and landless.
I wanted families, but I would look also for a handful of fighters, men who would act as guards for Merrowdale, the dale nearby of which Meive had spoken. That, too, had been ravaged and brought down. It was possible we could take both dales and hold them. Binding each dale one to the other by a regular exchange of those people whose occupations would allow it. I would think further on that.
We must also be alert as time passed. Once the lords began to reorder the dales further north those outlaws who would not change their ways would have to move. They would seep South towards Merrowdale and then to Honeycoombe. At first it was likely we would see few, but they would be more numerous as the northern dales became more vigorous in defending against them.
I resolved to teach Meive all I could of weapons-work. She had told me she was fair enough with a sling. She already knew the rudiments of handling a light bow and I could teach her further. Sword-drill she had taken to as a fish takes to water, since she was lithe, with quick reactions, and her life had left her with good arm muscles. Besides all this I would add to her lessons the tricks Faslane had taught to me: city street-fighter tricks, most of them, and none the worse for that. Not when one fighter was a light-boned girl who needed any advantage I could contrive.
The journey was peaceful as we traveled. We talked much, so that I came to know Meive as a friend. I learned she had a ready wit, and while she mourned the death of her people, she was slowly beginning to come to terms with her grief and her bitterness at Neeco's betrayal of
them. Once I spoke of Erondale. The discussion led further as I talked of my family.
“I loved my brothers, but Merrion was not close to me.”
“How so?”
“He was seven years older. When Erondale was attacked he had only been back a few months. Before that he was visiting friends in other dales for half a year, and two years at Paltendale learning to be a warrior and to rule a keep as a lord should. I was closest to Anla. He was only three years older and should have gone to Paltendale earlier than he did. He was home again when the invaders struck at Erondale.” I remembered Anla, his laughter, his affection for the small brother I had been to him.
“I miss them all. Paltendale, too, is not as it was: there was only Hogar and his three sons in direct line.”
Meive's head came up. “Lorcan? Didn't you say one of the sons survived the war? Why do you speak as though all the line is ended?”
I looked out into the dark beyond the fire.
“Because there is more to that.” I told her the story. Of how Faslane had believed Hogeth had slain his brother to inherit Paltendale. Of how, when I found the pass where the men of Paltendale had stood firm, only the dead remained—Faslane with a deep dagger-thrust to his back—and the hoofprints of a single horse which led away.
“You cannot swear,” Meive said consideringly. “But like Faslane you believe. You think Hogeth slew his brother, slew Faslane perhaps because he saw Faslane suspected. You think he fled the battle and escaped. Mayhap while his father and the guard still fought. Has this Hogeth anything against you, Lorcan?” So I told her, too, of Hogar's chiding of his son over Hogeth's words concerning me when I was still a boy.
“He made an enemy for you there. If Hogeth is one such as you say he would not take well to being criticized before others. Nor would he blame his own words, but the one who had brought them forth.” With that I could only agree
and be thankful Meive was one with sense. “Tell me of Hogeth?” she continued. “What does he look like, of what manner is his speech? Should I meet him it were well I could recognize him though he will not know me.”
I described Hogar's son carefully. Now and again she nodded until at length she seemed to have him firmly fixed in her mind's eye.
“I think I shall know him if I meet him. Thank you, Lorcan.”
I turned away to mend the fire. The Gods forfend she must ever meet the man. Hogeth was another such as Pletten the Wicked. There'd been tales at Paltendale within the keep. Soldiers and guards will talk no matter what a lord says about gossip. Once I had overhead something else. Not to speak of that to Meive was to disarm her against danger. I summoned up my courage and cleared my throat. She waited to hear what I would say next.
“It is shame to my House that I should say this. But I owe you sword-debt and you should know. My father said once that there was a curse on the blood of Pasren who founded Paltendale. I know such a man was rare in the dales, where men rarely ill-treated women until the war came to make some men mad. Yet it is rumored that in every fourth generation of the Paltendale line one man will appear who is evil, desiring women and caring not if they say him nay. Four generations back it was a son of the then Lord of Paltendale. This time it is Hogeth.” I found myself reddening as I made the tale clear.
“I would not have believed mere gossip but I know that it is the truth,” I said briefly. “On one occasion I was in an alcove behind hangings against a window. None knew I was there. I heard Hogar speak to his son about a complaint made by one of the dalesfolk. I heard enough to know Hogeth had done as was claimed and did not repent his deed.” I stirred the fire while I waited for her to absorb that. “Meive, he thinks any woman not of noble blood is his by right. It may be that we will meet up with him on
this journey. If so I beg you, trust not his words nor ever be alone with him unless it be in a place where your warriors can come to you. For your own safety I ask this.”
She flushed slightly but her eyes held mine. “It shall be as you ask. I will be well aware of this man and take no chances.”
I was growing to know her now. I saw she spoke truth, and I was content.
I
said no more on the subject. I would have said less but for an uneasy feeling. Something warned me that while I wished never again to see Hogeth the same thought was not in his mind. I put foreboding from me, I was no wise woman. What would be would be and worry only weakens. Berond had taught me a warrior must take all precautions, then relax, waiting tranquilly for the time to come when he may act.
Our journey towards Tildale was taking time, yet it was very pleasant. The more I knew of Meive the more I delighted in her. I no longer thought, perhaps a little smugly, a little patronizingly, that she might be a fit lady for my keep that would be. Now I watched humbly and knew if she would be my lady in truth as I oft spoke of her, then would I be more fortunate than most who wed for estate. But of my feelings I did not speak while she traveled with me. It would be wrong to do so and besides, I who had thought my blood and line of the highest, was now afraid to bespeak a dalesgirl lest I be rejected.
Meive was not to be swayed by recitation of long heritage or high estate. She would love one she found who merited that. I was unsure I was that one. Instead I worked
to teach her weapons-skill. I praised her when she did well, but I spoke as an instructor or friend and let nothing show of my true feelings.
“Could we purchase a bow for me?” Meive sat cross-legged in camp during the third week of our travel, wiping the bow-string dry on my own bow as she questioned. “This one requires too much strength. If I had one of my own I could learn as I learn the sword.”
“I know the land hereabouts,” I said absently. “There used to be an inn and a permanent market on the cross-roads of the main road. If it was not destroyed, or if they have set it up again, we could take the over-hills trail. We might find a bow in the market there.” I turned to see her eyes widen in pleasure. “We must be careful,” I warned.
“Whyfor? Is there likely to be danger at this market?”
I nodded. “It is not unknown for bandits to send one of their number into markets to note any who might be good targets. If we are seen as armed fighters they will be less eager to engage us. Keep your helm on, let me speak. If you need query me draw me aside so none hear your voice. If I must give a name I shall call myself—” My mind went back to the name I had used while I rode with Lord Salden. “Farris of Eldale. You shall be my younger brother, Faldo.”
“There's more to this, is there not?”
“Somewhat. I left Paltendale retinue and the Lord Hogar was unpleased I did so. To save trouble when I joined Lord Salden I took to me another name. We go to Tildale where they know me by that name.”
“But if the Lord of Tildale was slain at Hagar Pass who will make you free of their House there?”
“His father, Salas.”
“How was it his father did not lead?”
“His father was old then, and older now. Aran told me that once Salas's lady died Salas had no more desire to rule. So he gave the rule into his son's hands. Lord Salas
lives yet, unless he has died this past year or two. He met me often enough and will open his gates to us both.” I leaned back to toss wood on the fire. “Besides, Hogeth would know my true name if it came to his ears through any at Tildale. Belo and Todon, if they live and hear it, would know also who I am. And if I am Farris, best you are my younger brother lest men talk for other reasons. However, I will tell Salas the truth. He is an honorable man.” The talk went then to what else we might wish to buy if we found the market.
We took the side-trail next morning. By mid-day we were near enough to see that the inn and the cross-roads market yet stood. Either the invaders had never reached the place or they had bypassed it on another road. I could tell from the wood of the buildings that they were very far from new, so they had not been rebuilt after destruction. I led the way downhill, seeking stables first for the beasts. With them safe, Meive and I plunged eagerly into the mass of people. I had warned her to keep her belt-pouch within her jerkin at the market. There were cut-purses in any market and with lean times after the war, there were more thieves than ever and some were desperate.
I would have turned to the left in the main avenue between the stalls but for her touch on my arm. She said nothing, but signaled my attention with a jerk of her chin towards one stall. I looked. A weapons-seller with good bows for sale. I strolled towards the stall. Once there I took up the bows casually, checking staves and pull. There was one there, a bow made for a woman or boy, which would be suitable. The grip was well-worn but it was in good condition. I settled to bargain. In the end I paid well enough, but for my price I received bow, quiver, spare strings, and a flight of ten good hunting arrows. I waited until we were away before handing the bow and quiver of arrows to Meive.
“I think this will suit you very well. Do you wish to return
to leave it with the horses?” She shook her head in silence. Accepting the weapon she hitched it to her back as she had seen me do with my own bow. We began to stroll along the stalls again. I bought journey-bread and cheese, ale in an ale-sack, wound salve, a spare whetstone, and other small purchases. Then I returned to the stables. Once there I looked cautiously about me. None were close.
“Meive? There's a risk, but a small one. We could stay tonight at the inn here. The Inn of the Cross-Roads had a good name in the old days. Two rooms—I shall claim that I have a cold and you are prone to the lung-fever, that way I can ask for two rooms without it appearing strange. Two rooms and a bath. A few good meals we do not have to cook for ourselves.”
“A bath?” Her tone was like one who spoke incredulously of treasure. I could understood that. It had been months since I could bathe with soap in heated water. I swore by Cup and Flame I would have a fine bathing-room in our keep. During an errand for Lord Hogar to another keep I had once seen a bathing-room in which the fires to heat the water were above the room so that the heated water flowed down in pipes. I grinned at Meive.
“A bath, yes.”
She became practical. “You said there was some risk?”
I shrugged. “To any action there is risk. But I think it is not great. Make certain your door is barred while you bathe, and later when you sleep. Beware of quarrelsome men in the common room.”
“We could eat together in your room.”
“That is sense.”
“Then we stay the night here?”
I smiled. “It seems we do. Now, is there anything else you can bring to mind which we might need at the market? If not we can go to the inn and bespeak what we wish.”
Meive's voice rose a little. “Oh, yes. Let us go now.”
I saw a stablelad's head turn, but it seemed he merely pointed out one of the horses to his client. The inn found us
two rooms. They lay together in one comer of the upper floor and had a door between. The innkeeper took us up and bowed to me as he opened the doors.
“I am Keris, owner of this inn. These are good rooms, Sir. I keep them for those who are kin. If the inner door is opened there is more room for both. And you wish baths? To eat here? That can all be provided.”
I haggled. Just hard enough to convince him I was not one with over-filled pouch. Yet I halted soon enough that he should know, too, that I was not so niggardly that good food and service would not receive its due. I also made sure to cough rackingly four or five times, and allowed myself to be overheard warning my brother to be sure he wore his warmest shirt once he was out of the bath.
We bathed, and I can only say that for me, who had not lain in hot water for many months, it was almost a religious experience. Meive emerged pink-faced and smiling, wrapped in her clean cloak. The food appeared on trays and we set to until at last there was only the wreckage of empty greasy plates. I leaned out to glance at the sky before looking at Meive.
“It is not late, but if we sleep now we can rise to eat early in the morning and be gone.”
“It sounds well. Let whoever wakes first, wake the other. Should we go to check the horses before we sleep?”
“I will do that, and take back the trays. You seek your bed, and Meive, be very sure your outer door is barred. I think our host is honest, but he has others within his walls.”
She retired and I hurried down to see to our mounts' welfare. They were happy, knee-deep in clean straw with filled mangers and water buckets also. They had been well groomed and stood sighing in contentment. I tossed a generous number of coppers to the lad and smiled at him.
“They have well been cared for, thank you. We ride early. See to it that the beasts are fed and watered again at first-light.” He caught the coppers neatly and bowed.
“Yes, Lord.” He hesitated as if he would speak then, and I waited. His words came slowly, the way a man might speak to himself. “Two horses, none so bad, and the pony with a pack. Some might be interested. Men like one who was here earlier looking about him. He marked you both well. He has no great reputation, so they say.”
I matched his tone. “Such a one might ride in company?”
“Aye. So I have heard. Two more of them and each as bad as the other.” He rattled a bucket as he filled it. Tossed hay to a nickering horse then spoke as he turned to go. “They bide here tonight.” As he went bearing saddlery to clean, I looked after him, my eyes slitted in thought. Surely I had been warned. The lad could be in league with those of whom he warned me, but where was the profit in the warning if so?
I returned to my room and tried the door between Meive and me very quietly. It was unbarred. I listened to her breathing and lifted a candle. All was well. The outer door was barred as I had told her to do. In the candle-light I saw that her window was ajar, and above her the light glinted on her sleeping warriors clinging to a beam. On the sill stood a small flat plate. She would have fed them the honey-water they loved before they slept. Had we been attacked in the open I would have called upon her warriors willingly. But within walls I thought it best none should know of them unless my case be desperate.
From my pack I fetched two wedges and thrust them under her outer door. Each had two spikes at one end, one at each side and at right-angles, which could be trod into the floor. I had learned the carrying of them from Faslane and now in my heart I thanked he who had been a friend. I made sure to bar my own door and retired to the bed. It was soft, and still warm from the warming pan, and I fell into its embrace as a lover.
Still, I had soldiered and scouted. Even in my deepest sleep something in me remained alert. I woke somewhere
in the early morning hour to faint sounds outside my room. I judged it perhaps two hours short of dawn, a suitable hour for rogues to be abroad. I moved in the direction of the noises to touch the door. It was from that the sounds came. I smiled, moved through to Meive's room and laid my hand across her mouth.
“Meive, it is Lorcan.” I felt her stir and spoke my name again until I felt her nod. “Speak soft. There are thieves or worse at my door. I have wedged your door so they can enter in one place only.”
“Why let them enter at all?”
“I think if they cannot come at us this night they will follow. Better to stop them now where we may have aid within call.” With two wedges thrust home they would have to smash down her door to enter and that they would not risk. “Let you stay within your room, bar the inner door, and wait Keep the bees with you. I will call if I am in great need or once it is safe.” I thought she might protest that. I had no doubt of her courage, but in such a fight she would be more liability than aid.
“Better you fight alone, knowing each you strike is an enemy,” she said at last. I let out a breath.
“That is truth. Yours is the harder thing to do, I know.”
“Then go to do your share that I may not wait so long on your call.” I reached out to grip her shoulder once in reassurance then sped hastily to my room again to don my mail.
The scratching at my door was a dagger whittling at the door's edge. With a thin blade and a strong wrist, once the gap was made a thief could raise the bar from outside. If they planned only to steal they would first enter a loop of wire to hold the bar from falling. Faslane had shown me the trick once. It was easy enough to intrude the wire above the bar, then retrieve it with another piece of hooked wire from below the bar again. With the bar secured the door could be opened silently, the sleeper within plundered, the
thieves long gone before he woke. That was if they wished to steal only.
Otherwise, when the bar fell they must burst in swiftly to take me before I woke to the sound of its fall. If I was fortunate they only planned to knock me on my head and steal. But many a traveler had been found dead in his blood before now. I dare not hold back my blows, the more so as I could feel no wire and there had been the same scratching at Meive's door. I waited, letting my hand touch the bar lightly now and again until I judged it ready to leave the iron hooks on which it lay.
It would open inward. I moved to stand to the side, drew sword and dagger. I poised ready as the bar fell. The thud of its landing was not great, yet they, too, must have been ready. The door was flung open and a man burst through. I allowed him to pass me then struck him down just as his comrade entered. My blow had been true so that the thief died without cry. I think the one who followed believed the small sound of a blade cleaving flesh was made by his friend as he slew me.
BOOK: Silver May Tarnish
6.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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