“He’s not dead,” I said flatly.
“It is a possibility, if he was waylaid by robbers,” Brydda said.
“Tell him,” Gevan sent to me.
I nodded and took a deep breath. “Brydda, you might as well know that we have had news of Rushton since Miryum left.”
Brydda stared at me. “Of Rushton? From whom?”
“From whoever is holding him captive.”
The big rebel looked stunned, as did Miryum and Orys.
“Captive?” Miryum muttered as if she didn’t understand the word.
“A note came with Rushton’s second bird. You will remember he carried two?” Brydda nodded impatiently. “There was no identification on the note. It said only that Rushton was being held and would die if Misfits didn’t aid the rebels.”
Brydda looked completely taken aback.
“You can see why we suspect it must be rebels who have him,” Gevan said.
Brydda ran blunt fingers through his curls. “I see that it seems so, but it makes no sense, truly. For Rushton to have been kidnapped so efficiently, with no one seeing anything, a plan would have to have been organized well in advance of the meeting. But why would anyone have bothered, since none there imagined that Rushton would refuse us?”
“But who other than a rebel would want Misfits as part of the rebellion?” I asked.
There were footsteps outside the room, forestalling Brydda’s response. Ceirwan entered with Merret, both of them carrying steaming clove-scented jugs of mead, platters of bread and cheese, and cold slabs of pie. Their entry broke the tension that had been growing between us. When we were all settled about, sipping hot, spiced mead, Brydda spoke about what had led the rebels to offer an alliance to us.
“You impressed people far more deeply than even they realized at the time. They had not really thought about the cost of winning the rebellion before. After returning from Sador, they started looking at what they really wanted. Rather than revenge or power, most wanted simply to live in peace, to have a say in the way the Land was run, and to raise their families in safety. In our meetings, the rebel leaders began talking seriously of how to keep the death toll down during the rebellion, and we spoke of preserving the structures that govern the cities while removing the corrupt Council and Faction network. Plans were made to introduce a popular vote to establish leaders in each town, and someone suggested a sort of law-keeping force that the town leaders could draw on at need. We thought the force could be made up of men and women for some period of their lives, rather than of a constant body, because all that law-keeping can warp a mind after a while so they can’t draw the line between keeping the law and oppression. Another suggestion was drawing up a charter of laws so that the people of the Land could have the chance to modify or at least discuss them before they came into force. It’ll be up to us rebels to keep things running and peaceful until everything is in place, of course, but we now see ourselves as a sort of interim peacekeeping body, rather than ultimate rulers.”
“I can’t see Malik being pleased by the idea of communal decision making,” Gevan said.
“He isn’t, and he wasn’t the only one to oppose a lot of the new ideas, but the majority of us feel the same, and our numbers were enough to carry the vote. I daresay it riles Malik that, despite his win in the Battlegames, only his cronies wanted him running anything.”
“What did Rushton say when he refused your offer?” Merret asked.
Brydda drank a deep mouthful of ale, then said, “He told us that Misfits couldn’t be part of any war, because it meant consenting to the violence and abetting it even if you did none of the bloodletting. He said you’d seen your true nature in the Battlegames and had made an oath not to go against it.”
“Would that be enough to provoke foul play?” Gevan asked.
“Malik or his cronies would be malicious enough to hurt Rushton for daring to refuse us, but there would be no gain whatever for him in this kidnapping. As to the others, I just can’t see that any of them would be dishonorable enough to do it,” Brydda said.
“Perhaps dishonor would be seen as a small price to pay for finding out who is betraying your secrets to the Council,” I said coolly. “It might be considered a lesser evil than the knowledge that on the eve of your uprising, every step you take will be anticipated and thwarted by your enemies. Isn’t that the real reason the rebels decided to ask us to join them? Your need to flush out your betrayers?”
Brydda set his empty mug aside carefully before responding. “So you know about the traitors.”
I said nothing, and neither did anyone else.
The big rebel sighed and leaned back into his seat. “It’s true that knowing there are traitors among us was one of the reasons the subject of an alliance with your people arose again. But if you had not made such an impact during the Battlegames, no one would have suggested it.” He smiled disarmingly. “You are annoyed because I did not speak of the traitors. I understand that, but the only way we are surviving right now is by telling no one anything other than what they absolutely need to know. It has become a habit.”
“Don’t you think the need to find your traitors puts Rushton’s kidnapping in another light?” Gevan asked.
“Maybe you see it as a good enough reason to bury would-be allies. I don’t,” Brydda said. “Besides, think of it. If the kidnapping was committed to make sure the traitors are caught, you would almost certainly unearth the kidnapper when you were scrying out the traitors.”
“But who did it, if not the rebels?” Merret asked. “You are the only ones who will benefit if we do what that blackmail note demands.”
Brydda ran his hands over his head. “That is a cursed good point, but I don’t know the answer. But I refuse to see us benefit from this—I would not accept a forced alliance. We will turn the Land on its head to find Rushton. If rebels have him, I swear I will sniff it out.”
“Like you have sniffed out the traitors in your own ranks?” I asked with more bitterness than I intended.
“What would you have me do, Elspeth?” Brydda asked with a flash of weary irritation. “I did not kidnap Rushton, nor am I trying to take advantage of this situation, despite the needs of my own people.”
I took a deep breath before answering. “I’m sorry. Search as you said, and so will we. But in the meantime, help us make it seem that we will obey the kidnapper. We meant to organize a meeting with you as a display of obedience. When you get back to Sutrium, you’ll find a message from us asking for a meeting with the rebels in Sawlney.”
“Why Sawlney?”
“A moon fair and Councilman Alum’s bonding ceremony for his daughter will take place there in just over a sevenday. There will be a lot of coming and going, and it will be easy for our people and yours to converge there without anyone wondering why.”
Brydda tugged at his beard in a familiar gesture. “The rebel leaders are due to meet soon anyway. I’ll simply name Sawlney as the venue. Malik won’t object since it’s Brocade’s territory, and you can just turn up. I’ll announce you then and there. That will be safest.”
“I appreciate your trying to protect us,” I said, “but the whole point is to let the kidnapper know that we’re doing what he wants.”
Brydda pondered that. “Very well, I’ll mention your desire to meet and make sure the news gets passed around, but I don’t think you need feel too frightened that the kidnapper will do anything suddenly, since he can’t know if you will obey or not until the rebellion is in progress. He will want to keep his hostage safe in the meantime.”
There was little more than that to say, and since Brydda still refused to stay the night, he and Reuvan decided to visit the farms to see Brydda’s parents. I walked with them, for the rain had stopped.
The air felt damp, and the ground squelched underfoot as we wound our way through the sodden greenthorn. Not wanting to talk any more of Rushton, I sought some less painful topic and asked if he was disappointed with the Sadorians’ decision to s
end only a token force to aid them.
“We were, of course, but since it was always uncertain how many the Sadorians would send, we had not got used to counting on them.” A smile ghosted over his face, lit by the lantern he carried. “You know Bruna remained in Sutrium when her mother left this morning?”
“I didn’t. I suppose she is staying with Bodera?”
“She is, and again she is playing merry hell with poor Dardelan. To look at his face, you can see he’s neatly and uncomfortably balanced between longing for peace and plain longing.”
“He cares for her, then?”
“It’s obvious to everyone but Bruna. He has sense enough not to give her the knowledge, for she’s the sort to use it as a whip on him. He treats her with perfect courtesy even when she behaves like a spoiled brat.”
“And how is Bodera?”
The rebel sighed. “Some days are bad, and others are worse. Very few of his days can be called good anymore, sadly. It must be hard to die so slowly. He does not want to die while he is needed, but I think he is utterly weary of his existence. It‘s my belief that he means to live until the rebellion is won, and with his will, he might do just that.”
We had come to the end of the maze path, and I farsent to locate Katlyn and Grufyyd. They were waiting eagerly for their son in Alad’s kitchen. Katlyn burst into tears at the sight of Brydda, but he swept her into his massive arms and gave her a long hard hug and a dozen kisses, until she stopped weeping and started laughing and protesting. Releasing her, he gave his father a heartfelt hug and sat down between them.
Katlyn’s face fell when he told them he would not stay even one night, but Grufyyd patted her arm and said she was not to fuss, as he doubtless had to hurry back because of Rushton being kidnapped.
“Oh, of course.” Katlyn pressed a plump hand to her mouth. “Poor dear Rushton. It’s too much on top of the trouble Maryon’s foreseen.”
Giving Alad a swift warning glance, I said casually to Brydda that the futureteller had foreseen strife throughout the Land, which we had taken to be the rebellion.
“Did Elspeth mention about Sawlney?” Grufyyd began. I instituted a swift, gentle coercive block to stop him from going on to mention the magi as he’d intended, and the wagons he’d so lovingly created.
“She did, and it seems to me a good safe meeting place what with the moon fair dragging strangers from all over.” Brydda did not notice a vaguely puzzled look flit over Grufyyd’s wrinkled face as he wondered why he felt suddenly reluctant to speak of what was on the tip of his tongue.
“It is my hope that by the time the fair comes, we’ll have found Rushton and you won’t have to go there,” Brydda added.
Alad opened his mouth, then closed it at my warning kick under the table. Fortunately, Brydda didn’t catch his pained expression, because Katlyn was offering to pack a basket of special food for the journey back to Sutrium.
“Mam, we’ll be riding fast, and they have food aplenty in Sutrium,” Brydda objected.
Katlyn said that it wasn’t her food and that she could tell by his looks that what he’d been eating was nowhere near as healthy. I grinned in spite of everything, because Brydda had never looked undernourished. He caught the look and lifted his hands in helpless obedience as Katlyn hurried off.
“I’m sorry I can’t stay longer, Da,” the big rebel told his father. “I would like to think I’ll be back soon, but I don’t know when, with the rebellion about to turn the Land upside down. And I’ll have to be part of sorting things out afterward. I just don’t know how long it will be before we can resume our own lives. I’ve had my fill of cities and crowds these last few years; when this is all over, I might move back to Rangorn and rebuild the old farm. How do you like the idea of going home after all this time?”
“Well now, we wouldn’t want to go back, truly,” Grufyyd said. “Me and your mam’re settled here, and here we’ll stay until they put us in the ground. Unless we’re driven out.”
“I’d never let that happen,” Brydda said. “Well, then, maybe I’ll ride up here and build a farm instead.” He gave a surprised sort of laugh. “It’s funny to hear myself talk of afterward. All those years of plotting and scheming, and the rebellion always seemed so far away you couldn’t imagine an afterward.”
“What about you, Reuvan? What will you do when it’s over?” Alad asked the blue-eyed seaman.
Reuvan gave a rare, dreamy smile that made him look older rather than younger, as if somehow all the worry and fear had arrested his development. “I’d like to go to Sador again,” he admitted. “But before that, I’ll get a small boat and a crew, and we’ll go off looking for the place that buys slaves from the Land, in memory of Idris. I’ll find Matthew and the others Salamander took and buy their freedom if I can’t help them escape.”
That reminded me of the dreams everyone had been having about Matthew. “Reuvan, have you ever heard seamen talk of a land where it’s terribly hot and where the ground is red and hard, and there are steep, rocky hills of reddish stone?”
Reuvan stared. “Can’t say I’ve heard of such a place.”
“A lot of us have dreamed of Matthew lately, and that’s the kind of terrain we see around him. He is in a port city, but it’s not like any in the Land.”
“I will ask around,” Reuvan promised, looking interested.
Katlyn returned with two enormous baskets, and Brydda said that he and Reuvan could not possibly ride as swiftly as they needed with such a load. Protesting and clicking her tongue, she repackaged some of the food into two smaller bundles, and we followed Brydda out into the chilly darkness.
“Don’t lose hope, little sad eyes,” he said to me as I hugged him. “Miryum said none of your futuretellers foresaw any danger to Rushton, and whoever the kidnappers are, they need him healthy, so he is safe for the present. And he must know that we are all searching for him.”
The rebels mounted up, their coats flapping in the rising wind. He blew a kiss to his mother before galloping away. We stood there until the hoofbeats faded and all we could hear was the wind and Katlyn’s soft weeping.
“It’s long past our bedtime,” Grufyyd said, and led her tenderly away.
Alad walked me to the maze gate, but I would not let him escort me up to the house. “If I’m not safe at Obernewtyn, I might as well give up.”
“Let’s hope Obernewtyn will always be a safe haven for us,” Alad responded seriously. “Elspeth, I might as well tell you now that I mean to vote against our leaving the mountains. And if the choice is made to go to Sador, then I will stay here on my own with the beasts that cannot travel.”
“I don’t want to leave any more than you,” I admitted. “In fact, I may have a plan that would enable us to stay here.”
“I can’t say how it relieves me to hear you say that,” the Beastspeaking guildmaster confessed. “I have always loved Obernewtyn, but until we began talking seriously of leaving it, I never knew how much. Before I came here, I was a lone fugitive with nothing to hope for. Here I found purpose and friends and a life that I love. What I am today, this place made me.”
“We will hold on to Obernewtyn with all of our strength,” I promised him and Rushton both.
19
IN THE DAYS following Brydda’s visit, my determination not to fall into despondency remained firm, and I threw myself into the business of running Obernewtyn and planning its protection.
To begin with, I spent some time speaking to the other guildleaders and listening to general talk, only to learn that Alad’s passion to remain in the valley was universal. Therefore, even without any formal decision being made in guildmerge, I allowed the emphasis to shift from the idea of abandoning the Land to a strategic withdrawal to caves higher in the mountains.
The proposed exodus to Sador became part of a sleight of hand to produce the illusion that we had quit the Land once and for all. I spoke of the need to prevent anyone occupying Obernewtyn while it stood empty, and Gevan agreed that, while no one could r
eproduce Dragon’s incredible illusion, quite a lot of imaginary damage could be induced by a practiced team of his people. Miky suggested that the Empath guild could contribute to the illusion by projecting feelings of unease and edginess verging on nausea into anyone who looked at it. And Garth promised that his guild would produce a cluster of huts that would make it appear as if we’d been living rough in the valley and that Obernewtyn itself had been an uninhabitable ruin for years.
Alad and Javo prepared complete provision lists for our proposed sojourn in the mountain caves and had begun readying supplies to be transferred when the refuge was complete. Crops were planted bit by bit, and Grufyyd finished the magi wagons and began constructing others to be used as decoys in the apparent exodus to Sador.
Miryum rejoined her knights and continued to scour the highlands for news of Rushton. Straaka insisted on accompanying her. But they found only a persistent rumor of impending rebellion.
Maryon’s people were also hard at work, delving into their minds for information about Rushton and the rebel traitors; unfortunately, they came up with nothing more than vague visions of danger and betrayal. Or they dreamed of Matthew in his strange, red-stone city.
Avra and Gahltha left Obernewtyn with their foal to run for a time with the wild herd, but Gahltha had promised to return in time to convey me to the meeting in Sawlney. In a previous beastmerge, the matter of the beast sales and gelding practices had been raised again. But with the rebellion looming, no one could say when the next sales would occur, so there was nothing for it but to wait and see.
As far as my own guild was concerned, a slight variation of the whiplash mindmerge was achieved successfully, though it would take many hours of practice to perfect it. Zarak and Aras had taken over organizing the practices in order to free Ceirwan to run the farseekers, since I was increasingly engaged in other matters.
The morning the magi were due to depart Obernewtyn, a note arrived from Brydda by bird saying the rebels had agreed to allow us to speak at their meeting in Sawlney. He had not enlightened them as to the subject we wished to address and had informed only his most trusted people of the kidnapping, because he had needed them to help search Sutrium for Rushton. Despite their best efforts, no trace of him had been found. It was, Brydda wrote, as if Rushton had vanished off the face of the earth.
The Keeping Place Page 23
