The King's Peace (50 page)

I was grateful for Raul's presence and skill at making conversation and was sorry when she sent him away after dinner. She had no news for me but after a while I realized she
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was trying to ask me if I thought Urdo would want to take up the rule of Segantia himself when the Peace was secure. I had no idea, but I told her honestly that I had never heard him mention it. Indeed that was the first time I ever considered that Rowanna ruled Segantia as Avren's widow and Urdo's mother rather than as king in her own right. Urdo never spoke about Segantia any differently from anywhere else. She agreed before we left that if her militia troops were needed I should send for them and they would come under her war-leader.

There was one pennon there already, and I left Gormant's pennon with instructions to guard the whole coast between there and Caer Thanbard.

There was some complaining among the armigers who were to be left. They didn't like the south and living among Jarnsmen, they said. This was Gwair's ala's place; they wanted to go back to Caer Tanaga. I comforted them with the thought that I wasn't giving them up, this was temporary, an emergency. I told them that Gwair's ala, now ap Erbin's, would doubtless want to be in Caer Segant as soon as they came back from Demedia.

I went along the coast to Caer Thanbard. I've often wondered why the Vmcans never saw fit to build a highroad along the south coast of Tir Tana-giri, linking all the towns there. Instead all the highroads lead inland north or northeast to Caer Tanaga, and there are nothing but tracks, or nothing at all. At least it is difficult to get lost riding next to the cliffs. This was my first visit to Caer Thanbard. I was very impressed with the sea defenses, which Thurrig had built, or restored. I was amazed at the Vincan lighthouse, with mirrors to reflect the lantern and send the beams far out to sea. There was also a very splendid new church inside the town walls. I was invited to the king's hall and ate lamb and plaited honey bread with Custennin and all the great folk of Munew.

Custennin I had met before. He seemed as indecisive as ever, dithering even over what he wanted to eat. His wife Tegwen seemed a bad match for him. She agreed with everything he said and appeared very lacking in spine. I wanted to like his brother Erbin, for his son's sake. Ap Erbin was a good tribuno and my friend. All he had told me of his parents was that his mother had died in battle and his father ruled the wild and rugged end of the peninsula of Munew under Custennin. I was sorry to be very disappointed in

Erbin. He began drinking before the food and refilling my cup, too, when I was standing near him. At first I put up with this for ap Erbin's sake, but he soon became drunk on the strong spiced cider. He kept on making lewd propositions even after I had turned him down politely the first time. My mother had warned me about men like that, men who think that being of good family is enough to make any unmarried girl long to share blankets with them and who are vain enough to be offended at a refusal. I have met remarkably few of them.

Fortunately armigers are too sensible for problems of that sort.

I spent much of the rest of the evening avoiding Erbm. This meant I spent a lot of my time near Raul, and Custennin's sister Linwen and her husband the bishop Dewin. Even if I had not already known it I would have soon realized that these were the people who really controlled Munew, who made the decisions about what would be done for the land and the people. It was strange to see Custennin, Erbin, and Linwen together, all three children of the last king, Cledwin. It was as if they had all been given the same face, and their personalities had shaped it differently— in Custennin to weakness, in Erbin to self-indulgence, and in Linwen to strength. She was not a pretty woman, but the set of her jaw marked her as someone of consequence. It crossed my mind that if we chose our kings m the Isarnagan fashion, electing the best of the royal kin, she would have been the one anyone would have chosen. I must have been drinking too much, I do not think I had ever thought of such things before except in a purely abstract way. Yet what did it matter? Custennin was weak, but she and Dewin did rule.

Except that they did not rule with the consent of the land, and so they were no more than tyrants. Even if Munew was thriving and the crops were good, it wasn't right. "The weakness of
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monarchy lies in the character of the king" the Lossian philosopher Aristokles wrote almost a thousand years

ago. "It lies in the hands of the gods to send us the kings we deserve." Did Munew deserve Custennin? But almost as soon as I had thought it I realized that when it was important the gods did send us the kings we deserved. After all, they had sent us Urdo.

The talk after dinner went very smoothly. There was little danger of a revolt m Munew, and having two pennons at Caer Segant made them feel safer. There was one pennon, originally part of Gwair's ala, m Caer Thanbard. Custennin, or rather Dewin, agreed that they would try to levy some local troops in case of need, but they made no firm promises. I talked about the threat of an Isarnagan landing, but they did not seem concerned. They did agree to providing extra supplies, which I took with me before they changed their minds again. I did not like Munew at all and was glad to be out of it.

From Caer Thanbard I went northeast along the highroad back towards Caer Tanaga, where I planned to exchange three of the pennons I had with me for three of those which had been resting there and then go northward to Tathal and Nene.

Before I got there a red-cloak from Garah found me with the news that Marchel and ap Meneth had won a great victory at Varae in Wenlad. They had trapped the Isarnagan army between the ala and the sea. When they had broken and fled for their boats, Thurrig had sailed into the bay with reinforcements. Between them hardly an Isarnagan had escaped alive. That sort of massacre sounded like Marchel, but not like Thurrig. I rode on, a little surprised. At least there wouldn't be much more threat in Wenlad, though I would need to find a good map to find where Varae was.

When I came to our stables in Caer Tanaga the first person I saw was Ulf Gunnarsson sitting down on the ground fitting an ax head to a shaft. He was surrounded by carpenter's tools and had a wooden block over his stomach where he was drawing a knife down the wood towards him. I suppose without that he would have gutted himself if his hand slipped. A few of the armigers were talking to him as he worked and passing him things. I was surprised how well they seemed to get on with him. I had supposed they would hate him. He did not see me until Starlight's shadow fell on him, and then he nearly did gut himself, wood or not. He jumped up, scattering his tools and knocking over a little pot of linen oil. He bowed.

"That ax head isn't big enough for a long ax," I said. It didn't look much heavier than the sort of ax head people use to cut withies, a one-hand ax, and the shaft he was making was as long as my arm, unless he was planning to cut it down later.

"A long ax is too heavy to use from horseback, Praefecto," he said. "I want a weapon I can use in battle when my spears are gone." I had taken his long sword.

"Carry on then," I said, and went into the stables, oddly unsettled as I always was when I saw him.

Before I had finished rubbing down the horses, Masarn came to find me. He came up to the ropes at the back of Beauty's stall and peered down at me.

"Oh, Masarn!" I said. "Good. Anything happened here? I'm going to leave Second, Third, and Fifth Pennon here with you and take the rest up to Caer Rangor—"

"Sulien," he said, shifting his weight uneasily, "I don't like doing this. I hate being in charge. I don't want to be tnbuno." I rocked back on my heels and looked at him.

"What's happened?"

"Nothing! I just really hate being in charge, and I'm no good at it. I could probably cope with the work if you were here, but I hate making all the decisions when you're away. It's too much for me. I can't keep on doing it." He looked wretched.

"But a tnbuno has to be able to take charge when necessary—" I said.

"I know. That's why I don't want to be tribuno." He leaned in to the stall, and Beauty shuffled forward, almost treading on my foot.

"Oh Masarn, but I usually stay with the ala, or Urdo is here. This is an emergency!"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but people have been saying 'This is an emergency' in that tone of voice ever since Caer Lind, and that's seven years.

I'll keep doing it for now, but as soon as things calm down even a little, I don't want to be a tribuno. I don't care about glory, I like regular meals, I hate worrying all the time."

I stood up—my back clicked as I straightened—and I automatically started one of Larig's Malmish stretching exercises. I had been riding too much and not doing anything else for too long. "Do you think you'll be all right working under someone else as tribuno, now?" I asked.

"I should think so. But I'm not sure I even want to be a decurio anymore. Being an ordinary arrmger and being told go here and do this is more like it, and even that, well.

Well," he hesitated, "I've got a wife and some little children growing bigger, and I like to see them now and then. If the wars are over, I think the ala could get along without me."

"Oh but Masarn, I'd miss you!" I said. "You've been with me since the beginning."

"Yes, I remember you going right over Apple's head, tent-pegging? before you picked up the skill," he said, smiling. "But I'll still be around. My wife lives here in Caer Tanaga.

You'll see more of me than you will of ap Erbin or Angas who are still in the alae but off away."

"I suppose so," I said, but I was sad as we walked out of the stables together; it felt as if something good was coming to an end.

We walked up to the citadel, talking about food, about the weather, about the goods laid out on the stalls at either side of the street, and not until we were almost at the top of the hill about the ala. "Gunnarsson's coming on all right," Masarn said. "He's been practicing all the hours of daylight, all weather. His riding isn't up to our standard yet, but he's getting there. He's accurate with a spear, much better than most of our beginners.

He's lame, of course, and he knows Jarnish fighting so I haven't bothered him with much footwork yet; wait until he can ride well enough. He wants to be good, that's for sure."

"Do the others like him?" I asked as we came up to the gates.

Masarn looked at me, frowning. "There was some trouble in the very beginning, people teasing him for being beaten m the battle, but I told them to cut it out, and they did. No point in making these things personal. They're getting used to him now. We've had people who were hostages for their family's good behavior from the beginning, and it's never been held against anyone. Also Alswith's been in my pennon for a long time, even though she's away right now, so they're used to having Jarns around. I think they can cope with taking people by the each, as Urdo puts it."

I had mixed feelings about all of this, but before I could sort them out I heard rapid hoofbeats behind me. I turned to look. A red-cloak was making her way through the crowded street towards the citadel. People were scattering before her. We went in through the gates, nodding a greeting to the guards, and waited in the courtyard. She came clattering in a minute later and blew "Urgent news" on her trumpet. Elenn came out of the great door before the notes had died away, Raul close behind her.

The red-cloak handed her a thick letter, and another to Raul. Then as I came forward she handed me another. She held another for a moment until Garah came running out of the tower door, clutching her clothes around her. She must have been in the baths when she heard the signal.

Glyn came out of the same door a moment or two later and stood leaning against the wall. A servant came and handed a steaming drink to the red-cloak, who dismounted and accepted some food from another servant. I realized I was putting off
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reading my letter. I turned it over. It was sealed with Urdo's running horse. I opened it and read through it rapidly, my eyes widening as I got through it.

"Sulien," said Elenn, sounding a little unsure, taking notice of me for the first time. "I see you are here and have the news, too."

"Yes indeed," I said. The courtyard was crowded with people who had appeared while I had been reading, all listening anxiously. "Splendid news," I said.

"Indeed," said Elenn, more firmly. Garah and Glyn were both still reading her letter, and Garah was pointing out something to Glyn. "We will be holding the Feast of Peace here at Caer Tanaga in—" She paused and looked at the letter again. "When the moon is full, that is in half a month from now."

"Then are the Isarnagans wholly defeated?" asked Masarn, cheerfully and loudly.

"Not entirely," I said. "But it seems that the mopping-up in Demedia will take some time, and Urdo has decided not to wait."

My eyes fell again on the letter. "—Without this both Flavien of Tinala and Penda of Bregheda would adventure north while Bereich and Demedia are beset, which would be disastrous. The war in Demedia is going well enough but will not be over quickly. The alae will remain and continue fighting under ap Erbin and Luth, but Angas, Ohtar, and I will travel south at speed with only an honor guard—"

"Splendid news," said Raul, his eyes still on the letter.

"We must begin preparations for the feast at once," said Elenn to Garah. "The first guests will begin arriving soon."

"Let us go inside and discuss this in comfort," I said. Masarn bowed as if in farewell, but before he'd even taken his hand off his heart I had my hand on his other arm. "Oh no," I whispered.

"No slipping away. You're coming right in here with me now. I need you, Masarn. It's an emergency."

"Another emergency?" He raised his eyebrows. "Oh well." Then, to the rhythm we used for tilting at targets, he muttered. "If I wasn't an armiger I wouldn't be here," very quietly, and so we treated the assembled crowd to the spectacle of the Praefecto of Urdo's Own Ala and her Tri-buno going in to a council in the high citadel of Caer Tanaga, giggling.