The King's Peace (14 page)

You'd still have to defend it and support the troops you need, but it would be your own, your own land and name. That's more than I have myself. That would be much less than you deserve from me for this."

I was shaking my head before I'd even thought about it, whether it was supposed to be everyone's dream or no. "No. Please no. I don't want that.

Really. I'd hate to be a lord. There's nothing I want more than what I have, to serve you as an armiger, in the alae. I've been looking forward to coming back all this year. I've been practicing with the lance, as much as I could."

Urdo gave me an unfathomable look. "Then I think you should stay here in Caer Tanaga for now. There are rumors of unrest in the Jarnish lands to the east of the Tamer, so there will be an ala here, and plenty of people training. I shall see that my sister does nothing against you."

"I'd like that. There's just one other thing. Her horse? I mentioned that I stole him?

Garah was only doing what I told her. Will you take him into the ala? If I gave him back she would probably do the same again." I wondered if there was a Horse Mother curse I could put on Morwen so that no horse would bear her again.

"Well with that small matter at least I can help you." Urdo smiled a little. "It's a greathorse?"

"Yes, a stallion, bay, nine or ten by the teeth. You should see his poor torn mouth, but it will heal."

"Will he fight with your black?"

I laughed. "My Apple puts most horses to shame long before it ever comes to fighting, and this one is no exception."

"Then I gift him to you. You will need more than one real fighting horse." As I stammered out thanks, Urdo went on.

"My mare, Twilight, had a filly last year. She's dappled like her mother, her father was black and white, his name was Pole Star. He's dead now, I lost him under me fighting the Jarns this spring. We've called the filly Starlight. I'll give you her, too. You can work with ap Cathvan to tram her. That will give you three good mounts in a few years when you need them."

I opened my mouth again to thank him, but he continued, raising a hand but looking a little shy.

"I was wondering—I don't mean to breed Twilight this year, I want to ride her, but next year—"

I had already heard this request one way or another from half the armigers I knew who had mares. I knew what was coming.

"I'm sure Apple will be as honored as I am, my lord," I said.

I went out past the clerks without looking at them though I did notice them staring after me and
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muttering. Raul was there, waiting, and he went straight into the king's room as I collected my sword and went down the stairs. Urdo had told me to see ap Rhun, the key-keeper, who would find me a place in the barracks. I wanted to see the stables properly and also to go out to the fields and find my new filly. For that I would need ap Cathvan.

I went out through the archway and blinked. In front of me, a broad-shouldered heavy-bearded pale-skinned man was swinging a long ax at Angas. They both wore heavy iron Jarnish helmets with cheek guards, and heavy shoulder pads. The ax whistled down, and at the last moment, Angas leapt aside and swung up his ax, bringing it down just as heavily. The Jarn skipped out of the way, then called a halt.

"Uncover your shoulder to protect your head and you're as dead as ever you were with a split skull. A long ax will reach under your collarbone to have your life. It can get to that point you young folk aim the lances for, if the armor doesn't stand it, and if the armor does, near enough a broken bone or three and no long time of living for you that way either."

I had found the practice yard. Angas saw me as he stood panting. "Hey! How did you get here?"

he called. He grinned at me.

"You know how Uthbad One-Hand got his name?" I called. "I've never seen anyone playing chicken with their head before." Angas laughed.

"The blows sort of glance off the helmet, if you're not quick enough."

"If the helm holds," growled the other man, looking up at me. "In Narlahena we say if it doesn't, it's Wise Mother's way of correcting her mistake in letting someone who learns too slowly come into the world."

The older man's voice went lower, and very serious.

"It's the disadvantage of being a king's son, Angas, you've never had less than that good coat of yours." Angas's armor was exceptionally fine, steel plates enameled red and green riveted to thick leather and covering from his elbows to his knees. "You learned in one, and your arms master would have done less than his job to teach you not to rely on the coat for what you could, fighting with swords. "These"—the long ax in his hand lifted in emphasis—"there is no stopping with armor. One of those heavy shields Urdo's having made for you youngsters might take one blow, or it might not. No armor will withstand a long-ax stroke square on, not until you get stuff of Wayland's wreaking. That's why the hafts of these are strapped with iron halfway down from the head, you've got to reach past his stroke from the side for his neck or rap his knuckles well and solid sliding your haft down his to turn him; you can't block, and you can't bounce around so much fighting in a line, and you surely dare not wear the blow. You're blooded, more than once, and you've seen these used against you, but keep trying to parry with your head, and I'll put that helm over a post and show you why you oughtn't."

Angas raised his chin seriously. I longed to learn how best to use a sword against an ax.

Angas turned to me. I had guessed who this warrior must be, but Angas confirmed my thought.

"Have you met Marchel's father?" he asked.

"Marchel's father, is it?" said Thurrig, a deep furrow appearing between his mighty brows. "A renowned father of my own, two sons, one of them regrettably gone off to pray for his god, no small accomplishments earned in nearly fifty years of life, and I am introduced to a beautiful lady as the father of my daughter!" I laughed, and he laughed too, swinging the ax towards Angas, who skipped aside very nimbly indeed.

"Ah, but while you, your father, and your doubtless famed sons are strangers to me, Angas knows I have met your honorable and courageous daughter," I said, still laughing.

"And also your wise and accomplished wife." I only meant to be friendly, and was
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surprised at the result.

Thurrig flung down his ax, but rather spoiled the effect by catching it by the haft before it had fallen as much as a handspan and then dropped it rather more gently onto the cobbles.

Then he sat down hard beside it and put his head in his hands. "Alas!" he cried, quite loudly.

"Why is it that whenever I meet a beautiful maiden, a beautiful armed maiden at that, a veritable Amazon, tall enough to spear swans out of the sky, why is it that when I meet such a creature even if my wife is two hundred miles away it turns out the woman has managed to meet her first!" I was laughing so much now I had to lean on the side of the gateway for support. Some of the other people practicing came over to find out what the noise was about. Angas slapped Thurrig on the back.

"It'd be a brave man who'd take on the daughter of Gwien, even if he were free to make her an offer," he said, looking at me sideways, half-smiling. "You haven't seen her in battle. Didn't I tell you she charged alone towards three ships' crews of Jarns?"

"So that's who you are?" Thurrig sprang to his feet again. "My wife did tell me about you, though how could she have left out so much, the hair, the breasts—" He gestured. As my hair was sticking out in frizzles all round my head as an effect of trying to pull the twigs out, my breasts were presently swollen like cow's udders, and as Amala was the epitome of civilized manners, this didn't altogether surprise me.

"Both have grown somewhat while she's been away," said Enid ap Uthbad, drily, coming up behind us. "Glyn will be enchanted."

"Poor Glyn's seen her, and he didn't say a word," said Osvran. "He just came begging me for my clothes so she didn't distract Urdo in the middle of the afternoon by going in to see him naked.

He took my tunic to the bathhouse. I think he will live, but the matter was in some doubt." They laughed.

"Well it was kind of Glyn, and of you, too, and I'm looking after it," I said, tugging the hem of the tunic. "I'll give it back when my own clothes are dry."

"At last I meet the woman with even less subtlety than ap Rhun," roared Thurrig, picking up his ax.

"Watch out!" said Enid, as he swung it. "I don't want a matching set."

"I noticed the scratch," I said. I could hardly have missed it, the great red scar curved down her cheek almost to her jawline. "You got it from one of those?" I nodded towards Angas's weapon.

"Some Jarn with a great longing for death knifed the king's horse from underneath,"

she said. "And while I was turning around to see if Urdo was safely up behind me, his friend with the ax got a little too close on the left side. Nicked my cheek first, so I was leaning away and it came down through my shoulder blade from the back and not my lungs, which would have killed me for sure. It was that very ax Angas has there; Emlin picked it up for me. I'm fine now—"

"But when you come to the rally banner holding your friend's hand but your friend's cantering off in the opposite direction with the king on her horse behind her at the time, you think you might have a little problem," said Osvran, grinning at her. "Why you didn't faint with the lack of blood I'll never know."

"I would say it's because women don't make a fuss about losing a few drops of blood every now and again," said Enid, deadpan, and we all laughed. "But in plain truth it was Urdo, and it was Urdo that fixed it on again, with the help of the ax there."

"Whatever will your mother say?" growled Thurrig.

"She said 'I've been telling you that having a dog painted on it is no substitute for keeping your shield close in between you and the enemy's weapons for the last two years.

Just be glad that Jarn didn't have the reach to try for your head.' And I had to allow she was
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right. It's just as well it's my shield arm though." She paused. "It was my father said

'Turth's tusks, girl! How will we ever find you a husband with a face like that?' "

"Speak to Amala. Not that she consults me, but I think she's looking for a wife for Larig," said Thurrig. Enid made loud retching sounds. "I mean it. We Malms aren't so particular, we don't look for a pretty face. Breasts, hips, brains, that's all that matters.

Strong arms, too. As long as he fixed it back on the right way round that is?" As Thurrig leaned forward to pretend to check, Enid pushed him backwards while he was off-balance.

Osvran and I leapt aside, and he rolled through where we had been and came back to his feet on her other side.

"So, husband of Amala, you can move quickly—" With a great bellow, brandishing the ax, Thurrig rushed towards Angas, who charged away across the yard, dodging and weaving.

It did me more good than I can easily say to laugh like that, after so long at Thansethan.

—10—

Anyone accustomed to a civilized climate will find the island chilly and damp. This makes it also very green, and there is nowhere a shortage of sweet flowing water. I came up the River Tamer from the sea to the place where Castra Tanaga had been before the fire.

The place is on the north bank of the river, on a low hill, at the crossroads of all the main highways of the province. There were docks on the river and much coming and going of goods and people. It was clear to me in the first moment that to try and build the new capital anywhere else would be folly.

I spent many days there among the ruins, looking at the lie of the land. As I walked the ash-strewn streets an old woman came out of a shack and spoke to me, saying that her son was an oracle, who had seen in the flames while the city burned that it would burn twice more and be rebuilt each time. I asked her where her son was now, but she just smiled with toothless gums and fled. I learned from others that he had thrown himself into the flames. I decided that the new town I would build must be able to withstand another such conflagration.

I had at first imagined something in the style of mother Vinca, but I soon saw that this would be inappropriate. Pillars and columns do very well for sunlit lands, but in Tir Tanagiri they are best kept indoors. I realized I would have to visit the other cities and spend time deciding what would best suit this place graced by nature with all a city needs.

At long last when I returned I brought with me red stone from the west, white stone from the east, clear sand from the south and an idea that was old in the north. I built the walls of layered stone, with tall fluting towers rising from the curve of the hill. The city had no need to be defensible—what enemy could come here so far from Vincas long frontier? ^et they are strong enough to stand forever. Three years it took to build it to the design I had sketched in one night. Each stone was set in place, the red-and-white patterns rising to echo the hill's shape. I covered the walls with the sand, doing the work myself when I saw that my assistants could not understand what I intended. Then we piled up wood beside and between the walls and fired it.

The flames leapt up high, and the sand melted and glazed to the stone as color to a pot. When the marks of the fire were washed away with the rains I saw that I had completed the task I had come to the island to do — I had built for my emperor a city that shines.

— Decius Mamcius, From My Foundations

If I set down every bruise and skirmish of my training I will be here until I die, yes, and use up four whole sheeps' worth of parchment and still not have it all in. It was little different from any armiger's training, except that we were among the first to learn the way of it. It is enough to say that summer I learned lancework enough that I was fit to ride at the charge. Many days I came in aching and fit only for an hour in the hot bath.