The Hammer of the Sun (2 page)

She threw up her arms above her head, as if about to dive; her serpentine gold armring flashed warmly in the sunlight. "Gladly! In what - "

"As ourselves, Kara. Please!"

She pulled free of his arms, rolled idly on her back in the water and let a wavecrest bear her along. "If we must!" Then suddenly her long legs thrashed, sprayed water in his face, and she was torpedoing off through the waves, almost as fast, it seemed, as in any unhuman form. Elof groaned and launched himself after her. He was a powerful swimmer but a graceless one, and in another moment she was rolling and plunging about him like the dolphin she could be, tickling him, nipping him, tangling his thrashing legs or simply brushing herself against him and darting out of reach, and that he found most disturbing of all. She was seldom so skittish, and unease swelled in him.

"All right!" he protested, coming to a halt and treading water. "Have it as you will! Match me now -" He reached up and pulled the helm over his head once more and ducked down. Side by side, twisting
in
the first shaft of sunlight, two seals arrowed towards the coast.

But it was in human form that the two clambered onto the warm stones of the sea wall and stood dripping a moment. "Well?" laughed Kara, leaning on Elof's shoulder and clutching her swancloak about her. "May I shift shape once more? Or would you have us stride through the streets as we are?"

"We've scandalized the night watch enough already, I doubt not. Shift, and I'll follow."

Kara, already in swan's shape once more, chose to hear that as a challenge; rather than flying straight home, she led him a lively dance around and about the forests of masts, diving and weaving among the tangles of rigging with a leisurely grace that was wholly deceptive. Plunging after her between trailing clumps of blocks and tackle that every moment threatened to snare a wing and send him spinning down to the deck or sea, Elof felt the terrible sinking of doubt grow ever greater in him. Soon, very soon now, this great fleet must take to the sea, sailing southward as they had every spring these seven years past, on a great voyage south and east, making landfall upon the barren coasts of the inland seas. From there the King and his crews would retrace the way overland through the borderlands of the hostile Wastes to the fair coasts of the West, the road by which, a thousand years past, Vayde had led the Lastcomers from Morvan to the land of Bryhaine in the West. There they would help
to
hold off the advancing Ekwesh marauders for another summer, and at its end, as the raiders retreated for the winter, bear back with them still more of Kerbryhaine's unhappy people. And, with the fleet, as in every one of those seven springs, Elof and Kara would go. Long and arduous that way would be, yet it was none of the many perils of the Wild that awoke such unease in Elof s heart; to the menaces of the Forest realm, Tapiau'la-an-Aithen, they were as nothing, and through that he had already passed, and bested the will of its shadowy lord.
It is the perils we may bear with us that I fear
…

By the time he landed upon the high balcony of the palace Kara was already shaking the seawater from her swancloak, whirling it this way and that in a rain of droplets. "There! And what, pray you, was so terrible about that?"

"Nothing," said Elof sombrely, "as well you know. And yet…"

Kara's dark eyes seemed to narrow further. "And yet?" she echoed, and her arms fell to her sides.

"It happens ever more of late. You grow restless, the fit falls on you of a sudden, and… you are gone. By strange ways, in strange forms. You are often hard to follow."

"Not by design! Are you not as apt as I am at the sport? You proved that long ago!"

"Perhaps. Though it is natural to you; other shapes are but masks to me, and they soon gall. But is it any longer a sport, Kara?"

She stared at him, bewildered. "Why - "

"Why indeed, Kara? What
is
it stirs in you, calls you so?"

"The spring, perhaps…"

"Nothing more? No other behest, no other voice, nothing that would summon you away from me?"

"
No
! From you?" Her arms went out to him, and hearing the hurt in her voice he could only take them, hold her to him. "What could ever be strong enough to do that?"

He shook his head. "Then what is it, Kara my love? For there is something, I would swear it…"

In the palace towers above bells chimed, sounding the first hour of the day, and she pulled away from him, laughing again. "What a mood for so fine a morning! Come, dress if you're so set on your breakfast!" Other bells were echoing the hour from the city below, an instant apart, so that the peals rang together, but not as one. Elof, struggling into tunic and hose, watched Kara flow into her gown with liquid grace.
Even so it is with us
, he thought.

But as he followed her out onto one of the open galleries that circled the palace like a coronet, he said no more, only listened intently to the music of the bells. Many he knew intimately, could distinguish their individual tones clear among the clangour; good chimes, well pitched, ringing brightly without crack or flaw. Those bells he had cast himself, making good the destructions of the Ekwesh occupation; he knew every stage of their making, from the alloying to the final raising. He could trust them. Then he grew wroth with himself for what that thought implied, whether about Kara or others; his trust was not so narrow as that. He had friends enough who had risked their lives with him, for him, and for whom he had done the same, or would gladly; those bonds were of nothing so fragile as metal, nor so easily forged. Then why think worse of Kara? A gleam of gold caught his eye, and for all the warmth of the sunlight he went cold. He had shaped her the armring, that was why, the ring and all that went with it. Without those virtues, those patterned forces in the gold…

Once, a lonely, desperate youth, he had pressed it on her; she had taken it, in sympathy perhaps, and -Suppose she had not? What would he be to her then? He bit his lip savagely. But then she turned and laughed, warmer than gold or sunlight, and tucked her strong slim arm in his, pressing closer to his side, and he could resist her no more; he hugged her close, and they made their way thus down the long stairs to the lower galleries. The cold core of doubt and fear within him seemed to melt and dwindle; yet, tempered and hardened by fear, fear of loss, some tiny sliver still remained.

Under the new kingship and the restored peace the great halls of the Palace of Morvanhal through which they walked were flourishing as they never had before the Ekwesh came. There was not one of that fierce folk now left alive east of the mountains, so far as any could tell. In a swift and bloody week the land had been scoured of them and of those others, shadowy followers of the Ice-worshipper Bryhon, who had guided and prepared their invasion. Freed from the Ekwesh, the Eastlands had begun to grow and flourish once again. From the day he took possession of his halls the new king had made his first priority the feeding of his folk, organising the fair sharing of what supplies there were, and the urgent clearing and planting of land that had been left fallow and overgrown for many years. But even as the first planting was ending he was setting out with what ships and men the land could afford for the Westlands and for Kerbryhaine, the City that two years since had ail but driven him out. He found it in a very different mood, harried by famine and disease, the power of the Syndicacy in tatters. It might have been in total anarchy, save that the threat of the Ekwesh had grown so great there that internal differences had come to seem light by comparison; and perhaps also the death of Bryhon had led to a lessening of the strife. Ironically enough, it was the Nordeney fugitives the syndics had once sought to bar who had become the staunchest supporters of order, and the fiercest fighters against the invading reivers. But they were not enough. Slowly but surely the lands of the great landowners were being overrun, and their peasants were fleeing within the walls of the city, reducing the flow of its food supply even as they increased the demands on it. The prospect of an eastern realm which neither Ekwesh nor Ice could easily reach, with a diminished population and land to spare, became suddenly appealing even to those landowners, and to those partisans of the Bryheren faction, who had long opposed the line of Morvan. When under Kermorvan's generalship a mingled force of men of Nordeney, Kerbryhaine and Morvanhal decimated or drove out all the larger bands of marauders, all opposition fell strangely silent, and many who had most fiercely opposed the kingship became most vocal in seeking its shelter. More sought to go with Kermorvan than he could possibly take; he promised to return for them, and this promise he had kept. That first fleet sailed back in time to help with a harvest of unlooked-for abundance, and from that day forth it became only a matter of time until the west was abandoned. That time drew nearer with every passing year.

During those years the palace saw many rich and splendid feasts, commanded by the king as token of its reborn prosperity, or to welcome unhappy refugees from the Westlands. But at the first meal of the day there was no pomp or luxury; lord and servant ate together if they chose, the fare was simple, the mood quiet and relaxed in preparation for the labours of the day ahead. In this it reflected the nature of the king himself; as often at this hour, he had forsaken his high table and ate at his ease out on the gallery, contemplating the harbour and the muster of his fleet. His lean frame was wrapped in a light robe, his bronzen hair was unkempt, he wore plain rope-soled seaman's sandals and seemed wholly at peace with himself and the world. When he saw Elof and Kara approaching he rose at once, smiling, and greeted them with his usual slightly stiff good nature.

"My master, my lady, come and grace my table! I'm glad to see you so early, Elof; much must be settled today ere the shipyards can begin their labours, and with Ils away our wisest smith should advise me - "

Kara laughed. "Then you will excuse me, will you not, my lord Keryn, and you, Elof? You know such matters have little hold upon my mind. I'll breakfast with our friends within." She kissed Elof lightly and glided down the steps into the cool depths of the halls; the men watched her go. Elof a little ruefully. Kermorvan smiled.

"She adorns our halls. It is good to see that you and she have still your share of the happiness we have found -"

Elof slumped down into a chair so hard that its light frame protested. "Do we?"

Kermorvan sat down more slowly, and his misty blue gaze grew suddenly piercing. "A tale reached me but moments since," he remarked with dry disapproval. "A wild tale, such as the watch are wont to dream up at a dull night's ending…" Elof groaned faintly. Then the king's stern features were suddenly illumined by a mischevious twinkle. "I can only say that you both look remarkably fresh! And while I'm no authority, I think it is hardly so that love lessens…"

Elof felt his scowl harden. "Our love, no! But…" He hesitated, but his need to speak, to mould words out of his inner blackness, was too great. "It is our trust I fear for! And Kara's safety! Kermorvan, she was seeking to escape me, I am sure of it!"

Kermorvan sat up, startled. "
Escape
you? Talk sense, man - "

"I mean it! She changed, flew, I woke and followed. But if I had not woken, what then, what then? How far would she have flown? And where? To whom? Kermorvan, there is another voice calls her, of that I am sure!"

"Another voice…"Kermorvan's face darkened once again, and his voice took on an edge that belied its quietness. "She who mastered her of old, you mean? Yes, that would not surprise me. Inevitable that Louhi would try to summon her back. The Lady of the Ice is hardly one to forgive or forget, were the thing snatched from her less precious, or less…"

"Less loved!" Elof heard himself blurt out, and the bitterness lay like metal on his tongue.

Kermorvan inclined his head sympathetically, yet a little distantly, as if to set himself apart from Elof s jealousy. "What of that? It is past. Whom Kara loves, that is what matters, that is what must counter the call. That, strengthened by your love. Your trust…"

Elof flushed. "That alone was never enough to win her free of Louhi! Not even though she had my arm-ring, with all the virtues I set upon it… "

"Not while you were apart. But from the moment she saw you once more, she began to struggle. You called upon that ring. And she triumphed."

"Aye, for a moment. Then I had to hunt her down…"

"It was the moment that mattered!" said Kermorvan sharply. "That set you free, to free her! Do you remember, I was there! I saw!" He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "And that was when you hardly knew one another, when she could scarcely believe your love was possible. Now you have had years together, happy years, the links will be stronger - "

"But strong enough?" blazed Elof. "Dare I trust her, for her own sake?"

"If they are not strong enough, then seeking to tighten her bonds may only weaken them further." Kermorvan smiled thinly. "Even I can see that, little versed as I am in matters of the heart. If you doubt her strength, lend her your own; do not force it upon her. Have patience, wait! There lies the best counsel I can give you. That, and don't forget your food." He gestured to the table at his side, which held dishes of smoked meat, cornbread, curds and fruit. "Now, about the
Alaven's
refit. The shipwrights report that the old tackle will not bear the new rig. We cannot rely on Ils returning in time, and other than she, only you truly understand shipwork - "