The Mirror of Her Dreams (89 page)

'A carrier pigeon,' Terisa breathed in astonishment. They're using
carrier pigeons.'

Argus, Ribuld, and Geraden all stared at her for an instant, then snapped their attention back down into the ravine.

The bird was unmistakably a pigeon. It cooed comfortably as the bodyguard removed it from the cage and held it so that Prince Kragen could bind his message to its leg. 'One of the Lieges,' the Prince explained, 'discovered that these birds have the ability to find their way over any distance back to the place which they have been trained to recognize as home. This one has learned to identify a combination of tents, standards, and wagon-lines which invariably occurs in my father's encampments. It will fly to him when it is released.

'Now do you understand?' Prince Kragen's tone was hard, a threat behind his amicable manner. 'I brought a number of these birds from Alend. They bear messages to my father in a day- perhaps less. In this way, I make decisions for him.

'I came to Orison charged with the responsibility of resolving the dilemma of the Congery, Cadwal, and war-the dilemma of your King's strange weakness. I am the Alend Contender. I wish strongly to earn the throne. For that reason, my mission of peace was sincere, I assure you. But when King Joyse rejected it, I began to think of war. I sent messages accordingly. Then, however, both Master Eremis and the lady Elega offered me hopes which were much preferable to war. Again I sent messages. When the lords of the Cares refused the pact which Master Eremis suggested to them-and most especially when I experienced how vulnerable Orison-and therefore the Congery-was to attack from Cadwal-I determined to act on the possibilities which the lady Elega and I had discussed.

'The Alend Monarch is doing what I ask of him. And I ask it because I believe it to be the least bloody and most effective answer to an intolerable danger.
High King Festten must not gain control of the Congery.
The breach of Orison's wall is an opportunity I
can not
ignore.'

Firmly, the Prince concluded, 'What is your answer now?' Nyle looked like he was swallowing hard, trying to adjust his preconceptions to fit new information. At the moment, Geraden appeared to have no opinion about what his brother should do. He seemed to be scrambling to catch up with the implications of what he had just heard. Both Argus and Ribuld watched the encounter below with trouble in their eyes.

'My lord Prince-' Nyle began thickly. 'I should probably apologize. I didn't know this was possible.' His hands moved helplessly at his sides. 'Of course I'll go to Perdon. I'll persuade the Perdon somehow.'

Prince Kragen studied Nyle for a moment. Then he nodded. His bodyguard released the pigeon.

It took to the air in a flash of grey, a hint of blue and green. Terisa watched it go, an easy labour of wings against the chill sky-watched it as if it were on its way to bring bloodshed down on Orison. After circling briefly, it turned north.

Ribuld glared at her. 'You knew about that bird,' he murmured.

'We have them where I come from.' Defensively, she added, 'We have horses, too, but I've never ridden one before.' Geraden nudged the guard silent.

Nyle was still struggling to improve his grasp on the situation. 'But is there time?' he asked after some thought. 'When do you think the Alend Monarch will get to Orison? I don't know where the Perdon is. He might not be in Scarping. He might be anywhere along the Vertigon, fighting Cadwals.'

'I have chosen the time with some care,' replied Prince Kragen as if this would reassure Nyle. Tt is important that you do not reach the Perdon too soon. If you do, and he is not persuaded, and so he brings his forces against us, he might be able to block us from Orison. For that reason, we did not meet until today. I calculate that if you find him immediately-and he rejects you and comes against us in furious haste-he will not reach Orison until after we have mastered it.'

Geraden shook his head. 'It's not that easy,' he whispered.

'You think it's going to be that easy?' The idea seemed to incense Nyle. 'A siege might take all spring. Even with that breach in the wall. You can't just-'

'Nyle,' the Prince cut in. 'I am not a child. Do not harangue me about sieges. I have studied them deeply. And I assure you that we will be able to master Orison.'

Nyle received this assertion like a man struggling not to let what he heard stun him. 'Still, my lord Prince,' he said slowly, 'it seems to me you're trying to control events too delicately. What if the weather turns against you? We're almost sure to get another storm.'

Prince Kragen shrugged. His patience was wearing thin. 'Then you and the Perdon will be hindered as much as we are.'

'And what about the Armigite?' Nyle seemed unable to keep his anger down. 'Is he going to let you march your army-and
supply
it-straight through his Care without making at least an effort to slow you down?'

At that, Prince Kragen laughed shortly. 'I doubt that I need to concern myself with the Armigite.' His laugh held a note of scorn which made Terisa feel suddenly colder. 'Nevertheless I have done so. He and I have negotiated a pact.

'Sweating fear all the while, he offered me an unhindered passage through his Care for as many armies as I chose to name -and what did he ask in exchange? That we do no violence to his people in their towns and villages? That we leave untouched the cattlepens and storehouses that feed his Care? No. He asked only that he be allowed to remain safe and ignorant-
ignorant,
Nyle-while the fate of Mordant was decided.'

Argus swore under his breath. But Terisa had met the Armi-gite: she wasn't surprised.

'Personally,' the Prince went on with more nonchalance, 'I would enjoy damaging his ignorance a little. His Care deserves better of him. But we will respect the pact. And we will do no harm to his people or his cattle or his stores. Our aim is to find an answer to your King's weakness-and to oppose Cadwal- not to worsen the old enmity between Mordant and Alend.

'Have I satisfied you, Nyle?'

From the back, Nyle didn't look satisfied: there was too much tension in his stance. Terisa would have expected him to be grateful to Prince Kragen for giving him so few causes for mistrust, so many reasons to believe he was doing the right thing. Why was he still angry? Why did he sound almost livid with fury as he replied, 'Yes, my lord Prince.'

For a moment, Prince Kragen regarded his ally as though he, too, didn't understand Nyle's mood. But apparently what he saw in Nyle's face reassured him. 'Good,' he said, suddenly brisk. The Perdon will listen to you. Let us begin.'

At once, he signalled to his bodyguards.

The men watching either end of the ravine returned to their horses. Moving stiffly, Nyle readied his own mount. At last, Terisa saw his face. His features were set and implacable, as if nothing-not even his own passion-could dissuade him from the course he had chosen.

Argus rose into a crouch and loosened his sword. 'We'll jump them before they get out of the ravine. Maybe we'll be able to stop them.' The grimace which exposed his missing teeth didn't show much fear. Fighting was his job: he and Ribuld seemed to take it for granted.

But Geraden stopped them. 'Don't be stupid. There are four of them. And if the Prince has any sense, he has more nearby.

'You.' Speaking quickly so that the guards had no chance to argue with him, he stabbed an index finger at Argus. 'Follow the Prince. Find where he's camped. Keep an eye on him. And leave a trail.

'Ribuld, you get back to Orison,' The lines of Geraden's face were as sharp as the cold. Frost in his eyebrows and snow in his hair made him look strangely feral. Tell Castellan Lebbick what you heard. Lead him here. Tell him if he captures the Prince we can use him as a hostage. We still have a chance to get out of this mess.

'Go.' He gave the guard an urgent push.

Ribuld looked once at Argus and back at Geraden, puckering his scar in concentration. Then he launched himself down the steep slope almost at a run.

Prince Kragen and his bodyguards swung up into their saddles. Nyle began dousing his fire with handfuls of crusted snow.

Thanks a lot,' Argus whispered sarcastically to Geraden. 'You gave
me
the hard job. If they go west, these two ravines join. I can pick up their trail there. But if they go east-' He jerked a thumb behind him. That one ends. The other opens out of these hills. I won't be able to get my horse over the ridge. I'll have to follow them on foot.'

Then you're in luck.' Geraden pointed downward.

Below him, Nyle mounted his horse. The son of the Domne and the son of the Alend Monarch faced each other, and Prince Kragen raised a salute. Together, the Alends turned to the left and started along the frozen stream.

Argus punched Geraden lightly on the arm and left, bounding down the ridgeside towards his mount.

Terisa continued watching Nyle. Over her shoulder, she heard Ribuld ride away.

Nyle remained where he was for a moment, perhaps considering the best route to Perdon, perhaps wondering what he could say to persuade Perdon's lord-perhaps simply hesitating. Then he urged his mount forward with his heels and went east.

Geraden caught hold of Terisa's hand. 'Come on. We've got to stop him.' He almost pulled her off balance as he followed Argus towards the horses.

At once, he fell. Fortunately, some instinct inspired him to let go of her hand as he went down. And he caught himself before he had a chance to break any bones on the rocks. He reached the bottom of the ravine several strides ahead of her.

Awkward with haste, he leaped into the saddle of his mare. From the low valley where the streams met, Ribuld had disappeared along the streambed in the direction of Orison. At a more cautious pace, Argus was going west, towards the joining of the ravines. Flapping his boots against the mare's sides, Geraden goaded her into a gallop eastwards.

Terisa reached out a hand to him, called as loudly as she dared, 'Wait!'

He didn't see or hear her.

By the time she had descended to her gelding, she had decided to forget everything else and just follow Ribuld home. She was chilled to the heart: she didn't know how much more of this cold she could endure. She was afraid of everything she had heard.

Ignoring her own decision, she continued to hurry as fast as she could. Somehow, she untethered the gelding; somehow, she got her left foot into the stirrup, her right leg over its back. With the reins, she hauled its head towards the east.

Gritting her teeth, she kicked it.

She nearly panicked when the gelding went from a trot into a canter and then a run, trying for reasons of its own to catch up with Geraden's mare.

This speed felt tremendous. And the bottom of the ravine was treacherous. She ought to control her mount somehow-slow it; steer it to safer footing. Of course. And while she was at it, she ought to defeat the Alend Monarch's army, take care of Master Gilbur and the arch-Imager Vagei, and produce peace on earth. While composing great music with her free hand. Instead of doing all that, however, she concentrated with a pure white intensity that resembled terror on simply staying in the saddle.

The northern wall of the ravine became sheer grey stone, then relaxed its slope a little. Along the top, it was thick with brush. The south side was much more gradual, held down by heavy black trees with their roots gripped in the soil. But soon the trees drew back, and the side became steeper.

While the gelding hurtled along, she promised and promised herself that if she ever got off it alive she would never ride again, never as long as she lived, never.

All at once, as if the terrain itself had taken pity on her, the walls of the ravine jumped up and came together, ending the watercourse. At one time, it must have continued on to the east; but apparently its sides had fallen inward, forcing the water to find another channel. The horses had nowhere to go.

Roughly, Geraden wrenched his mare to a halt and sprang from her back. He hit the ground too fast: he fell again, slamming his whole body into the snow. He looked like a wildman as he regained his feet and charged the north slope.

She had no breath to shout at him, call him back, so she had to figure out how to make the gelding stop by herself.

Unintentionally kind, it took care of that detail for her. Having rejoined the mare, it seemed suddenly content with its lot in life. At the mare's side, it nuzzled her once, then lowered its head and lapsed into a state of impenetrable stupidity.