The Caller (26 page)

Across the chamber, the Master of Shadows had risen to his feet and picked up his staff. He whistled, and the little dog came to stand by him.

‘I – what did you say?’ Rohan. Could there be more than one Enforcer by that name?

‘Rohan Death-Blade. In charge of training. He’s the one to ask for.’

The Master was heading out, tapping his staff to find the way, with the little dog going in front. Curse it! He knew I was here, I was sure of it. Last time I’d met him, he’d only been blind when it suited him. He was playing games with me. I half-rose, then made myself sit down again.

‘What?’ murmured Brenn.

‘Nothing. I’ll tell you later.’ The Master was gone; I had missed my chance.

The innkeeper’s wife came by with her tray, removed our platters, offered more ale. ‘Poor old man,’ she observed, glancing toward the doorway. Perhaps she had seen me watching him.

‘Unusual dog,’ I said.

‘Funny-looking creature,’ said the woman. ‘Goes everywhere with him. It’s his eyes.’

I’d have liked to find out how long the old man had been in Brightwater. But Ellida would not ask that question. ‘That was a fine supper,’ I said. ‘Thank you.’

‘Good luck to you,’ she said. ‘Enjoy your sleep.’

We were lucky. While this inn did not run to such luxuries as private chambers, we were given our own little area at one end of the communal sleeping quarters, and because the place was not full, we were able to conduct a conversation without fear of being overheard. We lay close, as was appropriate for a couple not long wed, and spoke in whispers.

‘There’s something I need to tell you. You know there’s one of ours at court.’

‘I do.’

‘You mentioned a man called Rohan. An Enforcer by that name saw me at the last Gathering, when I was with Tali.’ I had given the Glenfalloch rebels a brief version of that story. ‘Chances are it’s the same person. I’ll have to hope he doesn’t recognise me.’

‘This Rohan’s not our man?’

‘No; but they’re comrades. Our man is the Stag Troop leader, a senior Enforcer.’

‘A troop leader,’ he whispered. ‘Black Crow save us. Are you sure?’

‘Would I tell you if I wasn’t sure? I know him well. And . . . if you see an old man with a black and white dog, be careful.’

‘Old man. Black and white dog. Uh-huh. Going to explain why?’

‘That’s not something you need to know. This Rohan Death-Blade – he may be an ally, but it’s far from certain. Don’t take any risks with him.’

He was silent for a while, then murmured, ‘A troop leader. I can hardly believe it. The man must have some bollocks.’

‘Mm.’

We slept close to maintain our story, I with my head on Brenn’s chest, he with his arm around me. It brought back memories of the night on the island, when I had slept in Flint’s arms. I expected disturbing dreams, dreams of Flint in trouble, but I was so tired I fell asleep quickly, and if I did have dreams, when I woke next morning I had forgotten them.

It was early. We washed, dressed, repacked our bags. After a quick breakfast, we fetched Bolter from the stable and were on our way up to the daunting wall and high towers of Winterfort.

The way was broad and well maintained. Of course, it would need to accommodate troops of horsemen going to and fro, not to mention the carts that would take in supplies for the king’s household. The tingle of the uncanny was strong here too; did that mean the southern Good Folk had passed this way? Were they in there, just on the other side of that wall? What if I came face to face with Whisper? What if those folk felt what I was and responded to it, as Sage and her clan had done when I first met them?

We came up to a guard post and were halted by Enforcers with spears. We got down. I felt cold sweat breaking out on my body; my heart was thumping.

In response to a series of curt questions, Brenn gave our names and explained where we had come from and why. He mentioned Rohan Death-Blade. ‘I was told he’s the man I need to speak to. I’m hoping he’ll give me a trial, at least.’

‘A married man?’ The Enforcer who was doing the talking lifted his brows.

‘My wife’s an experienced healer. She’d be an asset to any household.’

The man spared me a glance. ‘Go on, then. Small door to the left of the main entry; tell the guard there that Sark of Seal Troop said to let you in. Good luck. Don’t like your chances; your timing’s unfortunate.’

‘Oh? Why is that?’

‘Let me give you some advice. The fewer questions you ask the better.’

We moved on, and after another check, passed through the smaller entry to one side of a set of massive closed gates. The arched opening was just high enough to admit a horse; Brenn led Bolter through and I followed.

We found ourselves in a broad courtyard. It was full of activity, folk sweeping, scrubbing, busy with whitewash. There was a faint sensation of magic even here within the walls. I tried to fix my mind on anything but that. Ellida was accustomed to living in a chieftain’s household and would therefore not be intimidated in a place like this. She had no trace of a canny gift. Never mind that the southern Good Folk might be somewhere nearby; never mind what my instincts were telling me. I must think as Ellida would.

We were questioned again, standing in the yard while people busied themselves around us. Whatever had happened here, it had done a great deal of damage. Burned timbers were being replaced; vigorous scrubbing was failing to remove certain dark stains from the paving stones. The Enforcer in charge took away Brenn’s weapons; he surrendered them without argument. The man did not ask for my weapons, and I did not tell him about the knife that was wrapped up at the bottom of my bag. Brenn mentioned Rohan Death-Blade again. Whether the name meant anything to the Enforcer who was questioning him, there was no telling. Even here within the fortress he was wearing the half-mask that was part of the uniform, and all we could see of his face were the eyes. He summoned an underling, who took us to the stables and showed us a stall where Bolter could be left. Brenn unsaddled the horse and rubbed him down.

I had seen this place in a dream; it felt strange to realise how accurate that dream had been. Flint had been here, tending to his horse and looking as if the burdens he carried were becoming too heavy to bear. There was nobody here now but Brenn and me, with the serving man hovering not far off. The place was huge, with room for a great number of animals, though many of the stalls were empty. Down at the other end were some long-legged black horses, Enforcer mounts. The stalls at Bolter’s end housed more ordinary-looking creatures.

When Bolter was settled, our guide took us to an outhouse near the stables and told us to wait. We sat side by side on a bench. Nobody came to offer us food and drink or to tell us how long we might be here. Any conversation seemed fraught with peril.

It was a test, of sorts. A test of patience and a test of nerves. After a long time, we heard voices in the yard outside, and an Enforcer appeared in the doorway. It was not the man I knew as Rohan; I unclenched my tight fists.

‘He’ll see you now,’ the Enforcer said, and I was tense with unease again. Brenn and I got up, and the man said, ‘Not you. Only him.’

I sat. Brenn went out. He left the door ajar, and I heard someone speak outside.

‘Morven. I’m Rohan Death-Blade, second-in-command of Stag Troop. I don’t have much time. You’re from Lord Gormal’s household, yes?’

Brenn set out his credentials: he had skills in armed and unarmed combat, a good record in Gormal’s service, a heroic dead brother. His tone was a convincing blend of quiet pride and modesty.

‘We don’t take men who just wander in and ask for a place,’ Rohan said. ‘You’d be naïve if you believed that.’

‘I’m prepared to go through any testing required. I expect no less. This is a lifetime dream for me; something I’ve worked toward since I was a lad.’

‘Why leave it so long, then? What are you, five-and- twenty?’

‘Close to that. Seemed to me I’d have more to offer if I proved myself first. I’ve given ten years of loyal service to Gormal. He knew I wanted this; gave me his blessing.’

‘And he’ll take you back if we don’t accept you.’

A pause. ‘I hope that won’t be necessary.’

‘We do need experienced men, there’s no doubt of that, and at any other time I’d give you a trial. But I’m not taking on any more recruits at present. My troop is at Summerfort, and I’m riding to join them today. Besides, the men we have in training have been with us for some time; you’d be well behind.’

‘But –’

‘Go home to Glenfalloch, Morven. Next spring, if you still have a burning desire to be an Enforcer, come back and talk to me again.’ A short silence, then in a different tone, ‘I’m sorry. You’ve had a long ride. You and your wife.’

Brenn sounded as if he was choking back tears. ‘They told you I’m newly married, then?’

‘It is another reason why I am not offering you a trial. While there’s no rule stating a king’s man should be single, we do prefer that. Your mind needs to be on the job and only on the job. Besides, I doubt very much that your new bride will be wanting to get back on a horse and ride off to Summerfort this morning.’

‘This was partly for her,’ Brenn said. ‘For Ellida. I want to provide for her properly and as a king’s man I could do that. She has something to offer too. My wife is a talented healer.’

‘We have healers already, both here and at Summerfort. You should rest overnight, then take your Ellida home. I’m sorry.’

He’d be gone in a moment. No time to weigh this fully. The captives and the Caller might be here at Winterfort. Or they might have gone on to Summerfort. One thing was clear: unless Rohan could be persuaded to change his mind, Brenn and I would not be staying at either place. With my heart threatening to leap from my chest, I got up and walked outside. Rohan Death-Blade was clad for riding, from the black boots to the travelling cloak. He was not wearing an Enforcer mask. He looked at me and his amiable blue eyes narrowed.

‘My lord,’ I said, ‘I am Morven’s wife, Ellida. I’m sorry, I could not avoid overhearing what you were saying. May I add my voice to my husband’s? He’s a fine warrior and deserves a chance. You’re right, I am not especially keen to ride out again today, but I will do whatever is required to allow Morven that chance. As for being behind the others, you might give him the opportunity to prove he can catch up.’ I clasped my hands together behind my back, lest he see how badly they were shaking. Had he recognised me, or did that assessing look mean only that he was wondering where he’d seen me before?

Rohan gestured the serving man over. ‘Tell Doman I’ll be a little longer. He can check the supplies again.’ The servant left; Rohan turned back toward me. ‘What’s your background?’ The question was crisp.

I told him my prepared story. He did not ask questions that would have revealed the truth, such as why I said I was from Glenfalloch, when last summer I had told him Tali and I came from an isolated settlement south of Hiddenwater. He did not comment on my status as a married woman, when at the time of the Gathering Tali and I had been travelling on our own. He did not mention our previous encounter at all. Instead, Rohan Death-Blade asked me how I would treat ill humours in a wound. He asked what I would do if confronted with a man whose hand had been severed by an axe blow. How would I prevent him from bleeding to death, and would he thank me for it? He asked if I had the strength for bone setting, and I answered honestly that I would need a strong assistant to set a broken limb, but that I could instruct such a person efficiently. He listened to my answers, while Brenn stood by with a convincing expression of pride on his face.

‘Capable rider, are you?’ Rohan asked at the end.

I felt myself flush. ‘I’m afraid not. My method of riding is to go up behind Morven and hold on tightly.’

‘Long ride to Summerfort. Two full days at least.’

‘If you give us this chance, my lord, I promise not to complain on the way.’

‘If you’re going to be staying at court, you should learn to ride. We move between Summerfort and Winterfort every year.’

‘I understand, my lord.’ Was he saying yes?

‘I’m nobody’s lord, Ellida. I’m a fighter, not a courtier.’ He looked at Brenn once more. ‘You’ll need a fresh horse; yours can be brought to Summerfort when the court moves later in the season. Talk to the grooms, get them to find you a mount suitable to carry your wife as well.’

‘Thank you.’ Brenn’s tone was grateful without being grovelling. He was good at this. I limited my thanks to a smile. It came to me that perhaps Rohan had said yes, not in spite of my being the woman he had met at the Gathering under such suspicious circumstances, but because of it. If that was true, either he had rebel sympathies or he was setting a trap.

‘Don’t give me cause to regret this,’ Rohan said, sounding more like the Enforcer he was. ‘Not in any way, you understand? You’ll find the situation at Summerfort somewhat confronting. You accept it, you deal with it, you perform your duties and you watch what you say.’

‘We understand,’ Brenn said.

‘I’m not sure you can understand until we get there.’ Then, to me, ‘There’ll only be four of us riding out, myself, my comrade Doman and the two of you. Morven, your weaponry will be returned to you before we leave. I’m bending some rules here, but in view of what the two of you have to offer, I’m prepared to do that. Make sure you don’t betray the trust I’m placing in you. Now go and see the grooms. I want to be away from here quickly.’ He glanced over his shoulder, as if to check nobody was close by. ‘We’ll take it a little more gradually than usual. You may be confident in your ability to do this, Ellida, but in my judgement you’ll be lucky to last the day out.’