The King's Peace (42 page)

"My name has already been given to the doctor, it is too late for secrets," said the woman gently, putting her good hand on his arm. I noticed that she had unusually long fingers and a thick bronze bracelet covered in twisted snake designs. "I am Emer ap Allel," she said. She touched her good hand to her chest and inclined her head towards me, the closest to a bow she could come with her arm bound like that. The man moved a little away from her and folded his arms across his chest. I waited. He said nothing. I continued to wait. At last Emer spoke.

"My companion has a strong prohibition on him from telling any part of his name to anyone when he is with me." She looked at him in a way that made me feel sure she was very fond of him indeed.

"Indeed, it would most surely be my death to give you even so much as my father's name or my land name or the proud use name I have won by my deeds," he said, his tone very light, considering the import of his words. I noted that he had made sure I knew he had a land name and a praise name, even while refusing to tell me what they were. He did not lack pride whoever he might be. "I mean no offense to any of you honorable people,"

he went on, "and this is as painful to my honor as it is to yours." He bowed to me, to Emlin, and to ap Darel, whose box was by now neater than it probably had been for years, and who was not even pretending not to listen. Emlin's mouth was very slightly open, and I felt quite nonplussed myself. I had heard of curses that worked like that in old stories. I
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had never met anyone who had that sort of curse on them. There was no way in honor I could demand his name. I wondered if I could get around the prohibition by taking him aside and asking it.

"Go and eat," I said to the doctor. He left with some reluctance, looking back at us as he made his way towards the cooks. I turned back to the Isarnagans, my own stomach rumbling. The fish had just been enough to remind me I was hungry.

"What shall we call your companion then," Emlin asked Emer, getting back some of his composure. This certainly was the oddest prisoner interrogation I'd ever seen or heard of.

Somehow it had stopped being something that was going to get me information and take a moment and had become strangely significant.

"Call me anything you see fit," he said.

"Shall I resist the urge to pick something inappropriate, like Fishface, or all too appropriate, like Pretty Boy?" I asked. He bowed, not reacting at all. "Fishface it is, then,"

I said. His face did not even twitch. Emlin took his hand off his sword again.

Emer smiled at him. I frowned, something about her smile reminded me of Elenn and set me suddenly thinking about her name. She did not look much like Urdo's beautiful Queen but that did not necessarily mean anything. I did not know how common a name Allel was in Tir Isarnagiri, but could this woman be Elenn's sister? If so what did that mean? I really didn't like the man refusing to give at least his father's name. How could he swear not to make war on us if he would not give his name? And what reasons could he have? I almost wished I hadn't said so firmly that we did not kill prisoners. If only Angas were here, or Elenn herself, someone who knew something about Isarnagans.

"I am ap Gwien, and this is ap Trivan," I said, indicating Emlin. Emer again inclined her head and the man bowed. "Now, first, what brings you in arms to Tir Tanagiri?" I was looking at the man, and I saw his eyes flick to Emer. It was very clear he was asking permission to speak.

That must make her his superior. This was all very interesting and very strange.

"The king of Anlar has come in arms to win a kingdom for himself across the Windy Sea," he said. This really was terribly bad news, whoever the king of Anlar might be. I had never heard of Anlar. It was not Black Darag's kingdom, Oriel, nor yet Allel's Connat.

I had no idea if it was some cloak-sized kingdom, as so many are in Tir Isarnagiri, or a place as large as Demedia that I did not know about because I had not been paying attention at the right time. I glanced at Emlin, who was looking in fascination at the woman.

I drew an even breath and spoke as calmly and formally as I could. "Then the king of Anlar had best turn around and take his ambitions back to his own island, for this land he disputes is held by Monen ap Gwien, Lord of Derwen, and through him it is part of the kingdom of the High King Urdo ap Avren and it will be defended against you."

"Urdo and Sweyn are so bound up with each other neither will turn us out of this corner," Emer said, "And you children of Gwien have little more than a hundred and fifty riders here, and perhaps another thirty inside the walls. We are here in strength."

"Your news is old," I said, "Or you have come too late. Sweyn Rogn-valdsson is dead.

He fell by the hand of Galba ap Galba on the field of Foreth close on half a month ago.

Urdo has made a great Peace with the Jarnsmen of Bereich and Aylsfa and our ally Alfwin Cellasson is ruling Tevin. I may have only one ala to my hand here, but more will come hastening at my word. You had best go home, Isarnagans, before our horses push you into the sea."

"Is this tr—" began Fishface, and stopped as I felt my lips draw back from my gritted teeth. "I do not doubt your word, Lady," he said, hastily, "but this is much later news than we have."

Emer touched his hand, probably as amazed at his temerity as I was. He stopped and looked down at her, frowning.

"What will you do with us?" she asked.

"I haven't decided," I said, honestly. "You know we're here, and in what force, which the rest of your troops don't yet. I will not let you go. It's also clear to me that you are more than just ordinary scouts, and there may well be a ransom."

"There will," said Emlin, quietly beside me. "If the lady is not that daughter of Allel of Connat who married Lew ap Ross, the king of Anlar, then she must be her sister."

I laughed. I couldn't help it. It was the look on their faces. "My mother always told me that I should pay attention to gossip because there was a lot to be learned from it," I said, slapping Emlin on the back. He grimaced at me, and I realized he had meant to be subtle in giving this information so they would not guess I had not already known. I choked back another laugh, and Emlin sighed. I could see this was doomed to be another story going about the alae about my stupidity.

"I have only one sister," said ap Allel, stiffly. I coughed a little, not meeting Emlin's eye.

I thought I understood why they might be visiting the woods now, if they were married to other people. Even in the alae, though we do not make much fuss about who shares blankets as long as everyone is happy about it, being together without her husband's knowledge would be a shocking thing. Breaking marriage vows is oathbreaking, after all.

How could anyone take such a stupid risk for the sake of half an hour, even if they found pleasure in it?

"I take it this is not your royal husband?" I asked. Emer shook her head. The man stared straight ahead. "Do you think your husband would take his army back to Anlar as a ransom for your safety?" I asked, hopefully. Emlin sighed at me. Emer shook her head again, more forcefully.

"I somehow think not," she said, drily. "Though you are free to ask him yourself. I might, of course, try to deceive you as to my value." She smiled. "But by all means let us speak frankly."

"Let's sit down," I said. "If we had your friend's name and your oaths of peace I would send for some food and drink and make you my personal guests."

"It is not possible," he said, helping Emer to sit down on the damp grass. He showed great care for her arm.

"It's not that difficult, is it?" asked Emlin. "Nothing need be said about sharing blankets in the wood. If the lady says she woke very early this morning and wished to walk away from the camp. And if you had been on duty part of the night and so you were also awake . . . Then you decided to accompany her in case the woods were unsafe, as indeed they proved to be?"

It was a good enough story, but very thin. I knew armies by now, even if it were the truth and the Lady of Wisdom herself came down and swore to it, nobody would believe it, though before her husband they would pretend to.

"Thank you for your kindness in invention, but I am no fool, and that is not good enough," said Fishface, giving his words a little sharpness. "To give my name would be my death, as I said, and probably the daughter of Allel's as well. But if you three would eat I would quite understand being excluded." I was hungry, but I shook my head. It was unthinkable. The whole thing would have made more sense to me if it had been her name they refused to give. There were only two possible explanations. He might be her close kinsman, or her husband's, so that their being together broke the law of the Mother. Or there might be a bloodfeud between their kindreds which Emer had forgiven personally but could not persuade her family to forgive. This seemed most likely. It was sad; it reminded me of the old songs about doomed lovers my sister Aurien had once sung endlessly, bent over her sewing.

"Well," Emer said, when we were all sitting, "I believe your news about Sweyn and the Jarnsmen, but we also know things you do not. Our force is not the only Isarnagan one to have
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landed. I suspect the reinforcements you expect may be distracted by Oriel's and Lagin's armies in western Demedia and in Wenlad." I could only think how much worse it would have been if this alliance of our enemies had come before Foreth. I hoped those armies were not as great as this one. I could not see how they could be unless they had emptied the whole island of Tir Isarnagiri. Emer had a great air of sincerity, and I did not doubt her for an instant.

She seemed very regal, even more so than her sister. I was told much later by those who knew her that Emer was very like their mother, Maga, who had ruled a great kingdom and conducted wars and alliances in her own right. She had ruled very well, though of course it all fell apart when she died. This always happened in Tir

Isarnagiri.

"Can you negotiate for your husband's army?" I asked. "Are you his war-leader?"

"I am not," she said, and touched her scar and smiled. "Thank you. I have no authority to negotiate, but I can tell you in truth what my husband Lew ap Ross will do. He is an old man and no great warrior. But he has four thousand fighters here, and he will never go home alive without land. The people have come to settle—we gave up land to Oriel and in return they lent us boats and help for this venture." Her eyes rested on the Isarnagan for just an instant as she said "help." He sat looking from her face to mine as we spoke. If he was from Oriel and she was born in Connat, that was almost enough to explain the problem.

There had been many wars between those lands.

"Why did you all decide to leave?" Emlin asked.

"Many people wish to leave Tir Isarnagiri since Chanerig ap Thurrig defeated the gods at the last Fire Feast of Bel," said Fishface wryly.

I sat up straight and wondered if I was dreaming. "Chanerig did what?" I liked Thurrig a great deal, but Chanerig I found even more stiff-necked and annoying than Marchel. He was a monk and had sworn vows of abstinence from touching women and from eating meat as well as the usual vows of devotion and poverty. (Almost every woman I knew had said at sometime or another that she found it no hardship to think she could not touch Chanerig.) He almost never talked about anything other than the wonders of the White God. Raul might think that there was no honor other than in serving the White God; Chanerig seemed to think that nothing else was even slightly interesting. He was a single-minded fanatic, and he did not like me. I had never imagined him defeating gods.

"There was a mighty protection set on the island of Tir Isarnagiri that no great evil could ever come as long as we kept up the wards," said Emer. "One of those wards was that twice a year, at the festival of the Lord Bel and on the Day of the Dead all the fires of the island should be put out and then the first fire relit on the Hill of the Ward, and all the other fires be lit only as they saw that fire. It was a wonderful sight every year to stand on a hilltop and see the fires spreading across the land making a chain of lights. When I

was a girl in Connat I thought nothing could be more splendid, but it is even more beautiful farther north in Anlar. But just this last year, on the Feast of Bel, Chanerig ap Thurrig lit a fire at Connat before the fire was lit on the Hill of Ward. Many gods and spirits of the land—and many people, too, angry at what he had done, rushed there and fought him all night and at morning he was still alive and his fire was still burning, so most acknowledged defeat and worshiped his god. Almost all of the land spirits did this. It was part of their nature.

And some gods worshiped the White God and some sank down into the earth and others left over the waters. As for the people, it seems we must live in a land that is given to the White God or leave."

"What a dreadful thing to do without consent," I said. They looked at each other, and I misinterpreted what they didn't say.

"Thurrig is in Urdo's service and my friend, but I do not approve of that action."

"Nor do I," said Emer.

"So you left?" I said. Emer raised her chin.

"So Chanerig won over the whole island?" asked Emlin. I could not quite believe it either.

Arvlid would be pleased. I was amazed and horrified. I was afraid they would find a way to do the same here, and that what they were doing was the same only slower.

"Not all the people are reconciled to it," said Fishface.

"So you thought you would bring your gods and make a new start here?" I said.

"We did," Emer pushed back her hair with her good hand. One tendril had come loose from the coils. "We have come here to the empty lands to make them our own. We're not going to go back."