The King's Peace (18 page)

Rhodren made a face at her and looked back at the map. "Anyway, Caer Lind's not far downstream on the Don, southeast. Fifteen miles or so. If they're still living in Caer Lind, which we don't know. Fifteen years since anyone's been to see."

"I don't envy Raul," said Galba, looking at the ala where they waited, still mounted, for us to decide what to do next. "I wouldn't go on an embassy to a new Jarnish king in a country nobody's been into for a generation for a dozen mares. Has old Borthas found out about that yet?"

"Not as far as I know," said Osvran. "The High King specifically told us not to mention it. Urdo doesn't want the Jarnsmen to take Tinala. But we don't want to help Borthas to Tevin either. Borthas isn't our friend, in case that's slipped anyone's mind." We laughed.

"What we want is peace, not conquests. Nobody much lives in Tevin now except Jarnsmen—it's wet and boggy, and it gets invaded a lot, and almost everyone from there is dead, living somewhere else, or enslaved somewhere and out of our reach."

"My old arms master came from Caer Lind," I said. "But he didn't talk about it much.

He left when it fell to the Jarns."

"Rhodren's right in a way," said Enid. "We did just abandon it to them."

"That was a long time ago, and that's not the point," said Osvran. "Urdo would recognize a Jarnish kingdom of Tevin, the same way he's recognized Aylsfa and Cennet.

He sent us up here because Borthas asked for help. Borthas isn't warring with either the Jarns up in Bereich or King Penda in Bregheda this year, and Borthas had heard that a Jarnish king has landed in Tevin, and he doesn't want trouble. He told Urdo he was frightened about an attack. If they've a new king, then maybe they're going to get organized, he said. So we're here, just for this season, Urdo's most loyal ala. It has to be admitted that the Jarns were attacking into Tinala today though. We got there in time to fight them in a place of our choosing. We're going to stop the Jarns, but when Borthas comes up he's going to want to cross this river and burn hamlets, and it's my decision whether we do.

Now, helpful arguments about where they've gone, please."

"If they've gone north there's at least a shipload of them heading upriver straight towards Caer Avroc," said Galba. "Let me see the map?"

"That map would be a sight more useful if it wasn't two hundred years old," muttered Rhodren. We had already learned that it told the hills and rivers and Vincan towns well enough but gave no indication of Jarnish hamlets. The Jarnsmen seemed to site their settlements with what seemed deliberate willfulness as far out of sight of the highroads as they could. Those we had found on this side of the Don were nominally part of Tinala, but they were little pleased to see representatives of any king.

"North towards Caer Avroc, southeast towards Caer Lind, or overland towards the Derwent into Tevin," said Galba, looking at the map.

The rising smoke drifted away into the dark clouds. "If they had enough hands to crew even one of these ships, they'd have taken it, even towing," I said.

"We've beaten them on the field. They've taken casualties. No question of that. The problem is what to do next," said Osvran. "There are still enough of them to do damage, we ought to either press them to a more decisive battle or make a truce. If they have crossed the water, they may melt away into the Jarns who live there. They will have kindred and guest-friends enough among the Jarns who are living quietly and doing no harm, no doubt, up here the same as among Ayl's people. If they have time for that, we will never catch them, and maybe stir up the major war Borthas fears. If every Jarn settled in the east takes up arms it will be a disaster."

"I think that's what Borthas hopes for," said Rhodren, staring out over the sluggish water. "I hate it up here. He wants the Jarns to fight, to fight us."

"Can I say something?" asked ap Erbin. "It isn't a suggestion about where they are, but I think it's relevant."

"If you think it's relevant, always say it," said Osvran. "I know you've only been decurio a little while, but haven't you been to any of Urdo's strategy feasts yet?" Urdo believed that
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everyone who was in a position to give orders needed a minimum training in history, strategy, tactics, and knowing when to speak up. His strategy feasts could be both an ordeal and tremendous fun. Everyone above the rank of signifer would be invited, and the conversation could become very testing. He was inclined to assign reading to be done by next time. Enid was given to complaining that I had cheated by reading about the Lossian Wars as a child. I couldn't see the distinction between being forced to read Fedra's interminable prose by my mother and being told to read it by Urdo, except that Urdo's reasons were better. It wasn't my fault she had a bad memory.

"Just one of them," said ap Erbin. "Well, this may be silly. But why have they got ships at all?"

We all looked at him like an idiot cousin. Jarnish raiders always had ships. He blushed. "I mean, when Ayl crosses the Tamer he doesn't. These aren't local raiders.

They can't have got here without coming all the way from the sea, past Caer Lind. Those are big ships. Their king was there. They were fighting quite well, not like pirates. They were disciplined.

They were doing ever so well against Borthas's infantry, and they were really solid against the charge, they stood it as well as I've ever seen anyone stand it.

They retreated in good order, too. They were a nasty piece of work."

"They were," agreed Galba. "Ap Erbin's right. They're well-disciplined Jarns, a king and his house lords. They're not raiders, but they came from somewhere in ships for some reason. Probably they're going back there, if they have any sense."

"Or they burned their ships to show they're here to stay?" suggested Enid. "That they'll take the land and not retreat, even if they're retreating right now?"

"This isn't Aylsfa," I put in. "We don't have any truce with these people, or even any habit of having a truce with them. Maybe they don't know how to ask for one? If we go south along the river, to see if we could cut them off, then Borthas could take his army back to Caer Avroc in case they did go north. If we found them, we could send people back to him; we needn't engage them straightaway. The same if he found them; he could send a rider and we could come back. If they're going back and we find them, well, maybe they'd listen to sense if they heard it first.

My signaler and a couple of people in my pennon speak Jarnish."

"That's not bad thinking," said Osvran, making my cheeks heat with the unexpected praise. "We have our own supply system, and that way we don't have to spend more time with Borthas than we have to." He grinned decisively. "Mount up, get ready, we may as well start moving. Enid, send a messenger to the main force explaining what we're doing."

"What if Borthas doesn't want to?" asked Rhodren.

"That's why I'm not waiting about to argue with him," Osvran said. "Send a messenger to Glyn, to Glyn himself, also explaining. Get all our supplies and spares to come after us as soon as they can. Tell Glyn we'll wait for them within three miles downstream, and we'll have something to eat and a rest when they reach us."

I walked back to where my pennon was waiting, smartly drawn up. They'd drilled so much that at last it was more natural for them to be right than wrong. They were all looking to me. We were one man down, poor Senach had taken a thrown spear through his eye. Indeg, my signaler, had a hand to his trumpet already, ready to pass on the orders. I grinned up at them all as I swung myself up on Apple's back. "We're going to head downriver, probably camp tonight, find out what's going on, no fighting." There was a satisfying chorus of groans. They'd fought once today already, and we'd come out of it very well, despite the unexpected high quality of the Jarnish troops. Their blood was up.

They wanted to go on and do it again.

"At least we're not going back. I'd much rather fight than face another one of those terrible banquets at Caer Avroc!" said Geiran, pulling a face. Everyone laughed, and there were mutters of agreement.

"Fight?" I said, pretending to be surprised. "I should think we'd all rather fight.

Personally I'd rather go on an all-night foot patrol with a forty-turnip pack in deep winter." They laughed again, good-naturedly.

"Who hasn't been offered double pay and a promotion to transfer to old snake-face's personal horse-band?" Bran ap Penda asked.

"Horse dancers," sneered Masarn ap Sifax. "Did you see them holding back in the battle behind the foot soldiers?"

"He doesn't have the first idea how to use horses in battle," said Bran, smiling a little.

"You'd think after the first hundred and fifty times they'd heard no they wouldn't bother to ask us again," said Geiran. "What did you say?" They were taking up their right places in the forming ala without my having to say a word. We were used to each other and comfortable together. The column was in fours without anyone giving an order.

Geiran and Bran took up position alongside me. Bran was signifer, and he held the pennon banner and the golden charge banner strapped to his saddle. Geiran was sequifer and had the white rally banner safely strapped to hers. I had let them carry them in the charge, though I could have decided to take one of them myself. Indeg rode behind me, ready to catch my signals and relay them. I didn't even need to glance back to see where he was.

"Oh, I told him who my father was, and he backed off at a very fast gallop." Bran giggled, not pausing in his conversation as we rode off. "He'd be at war with my father now if the High King would let him. See those hills way off to the west? There's been almost as many battles between Borthas and my father among them as there have been between us and the raiders. What did you tell him?"

"I said I was suited well enough as I was, thank you kindly, sir," said Geiran. "I heard that Borthas's sister, old cow-eyes, promised Osvran her favors if he'd join them."

"What did the captain say?" They were both giggling, and I should have told them to pay attention, but I wanted to know, too.

"He said to try asking Glyn, as such an offer might be more to his tastes."

"Ah but Glyn—" Bran dropped his voice and muttered something.

"Have they asked you, Sulien?" Masarn asked from my other side.

"Flavien ap Borthas offered me the dubious honor of commanding his little band of half-trained horse." I grinned. "It was easy enough to refuse, if less easy to remain entirely polite." He had approached me when I was sitting with Galba, and he had leaned heavily on the supposed indignity of those of our high birth-rank serving under Osvran.

Galba told me later that Urdo had told him before he left that when we went back he would be ready for the command he's long been promised over the ala at Magor and Derwen. We'd spent the rest of the evening designing a suitable motif for them. He'd asked me if there was anything Aurien liked that would work. He had been writing to her, and knew more about her present likes and dislikes than I did. They were due to marry at midwinter.

Masarn laughed. "I'll be glad when we've beaten these wretched Jarns and we can leave this horrible place and go home."

"I must say I'm not the least bit worried about losing anyone to the seductions of Caer Avroc."

Glyn met us as arranged. We ate and moved on. There was no sign of the Jarns that afternoon.

At evening we made up a camp on a hilltop with a good view all around. When we led the horses up to it we found a large stone on the very top, of the sort that the people say belong to the Folk of the Hollow Hills. "That explains why it's marked as Foreth on the map," said Rhodren. "That means Table Hill." Some of the armigers were making an interesting assortment of aversion signs. Osvran called for silence.

"See this table?" he called. Everyone was either looking at it or carefully not looking at it. It was
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grey rock that came up to just above Osvran's waist as he stood by it, and stretched perhaps twice his length. "It was put here by our ancestors, maybe when they were fighting the Vincans.

It means this is a good hill to defend if we have to, and we chose right." The mutters died out after that, and we settled down to spend the night. "If we don't find anyone by noon tomorrow we'll head back," Enid relayed to me, and me to my armigers. The rain had stopped. We were glad of the chance to rest, and most of us barely complained at all.

—13—

Take up your sword and go, take up these fair-won horse, go afloat in your cockle-boat that drew us from our course.

Heed, heed these words I speak heed them and depart for I swear if we stay for breaking day this land will break your heart.

You've won five games on the shining strand won them with your song and the stallion wave falls loud and brave to say we've stayed too long.

Home, home, my lord, I say, that green familiar shore we must now leave or, lord, I grieve we'll see it nevermore.

—"The Ballad of Emrys"

It is always chilly in the deep night, even in the heart of summer. The next full moon would mark the Autumn Feast and the start of the apple harvest, so I was glad of my wool cloak. I would have been even more glad of the full moon. The half-moon that showed now and then through the scudding clouds cast odd shadows on the ground. All the trees seemed to have eyes and arms. When the clouds covered the moon it was very dark.

I walked about a little, to keep myself warm and wakeful and to check on the others.

Too many cold camps Osvran or Angas had come checking and found me almost asleep.

Fourth Pennon would do sentry as well as we could. If the Jarnsmen came we were all ready to mount and be off the hilltop almost before they knew for sure we were there. It is foolish to fight good infantry at night when they know the ground and you have the advantage of mobility.