The King's Peace

by Jo Walton

  We surprised them. I laughed out loud to see their faces when we changed direction at full speed. I was still laughing when I leapt down and began to engage on the ground. I killed someone there, laughing, I don’t remember it at all. I only found out about him when his sons named the circumstances three years later when they came to take vengeance on me. The fight was very bloody, but our swords were better than the Jarnish spears in such a close and confused melee.

  I stopped laughing when one of them killed Apple over my shoulder, a spear in the neck. He kept on going forward steadily beside me, though the blood was pouring out. He trampled the spearman and kicked the man next to him hard in the head with one high-stepping kick. Then he fell without a cry, like the brave warrior that he was. He was the bravest horse I ever knew. After that I fought in silence. I just killed them as fast as I could, protecting the people who were clearing the wagons. It wasn’t long before there was a gap, and those who had rallied were tearing through it. Geiran was in the lead, tears on her face, shouting “Bran!” in a voice loud enough to rock the sky and shake the crows up from the branches where they were waiting.

  I got up on a horse again then, I don’t know whose horse, it belonged to someone who had been in Fifth Pennon. We charged together behind Geiran’s armigers just as she hit the pony men. They were coming up to help their comrades like before. One of them was Ulf Gunnarsson, and in the frenzy of the battle I was not even surprised. I could not come near him, whenever I tried people swept between us. I learned later I yelled loudly that I would kill him and set his arms on my brother’s tomb, because several people later asked me who this Ulf was. In any case, we showed the pony men what it meant to be cavalry. All went very well indeed, and soon we were making at a gallop for the gates of Caer Lind.

  I could not understand why the gates were closed when Osvran must have seen us coming. They opened when Masarn shoved them.

  The Jarns who met us in the street inside died too fast to lose their smiles. In that first moment I was too busy fighting to be surprised, or to realize what this meant. The little ambush they had set up had no chance of holding us, and soon they were scattering like sheep. We were all inside, and the Jarnish king and nobles were running up the slope towards us. I slammed shut the gates. “Masarn, hold this gate!” I yelled, and galloped off into a strange town with my mixed troops at my heels, killing and cutting down all the Jarns I found like a wolf falling on sheep. I knew the shape of the city. It was exactly like Caer Gloran. I sent people to the ends of quarters, where we could trap them. They were confused, and not expecting us. We moved too quickly for them to be able to get organized. I had privately thought the practice in street fighting was a waste of time, now I blessed Thurrig in my heart for insisting on it. Masarn held the gate. They were not trying very hard to take it, for reasons I did not discover until later. The rest of us retook the city. I gave orders almost faster than I could speak, and was amazed for years to hear them praised as cogent and clear. It seemed at the time as if I was giving them faster than I could think. All those dues paid in training came to fruition. My sketchy orders were correctly implemented by those around me as if we had practiced just this emergency.

  The fortress had been taken by treachery. There was a secret way in. I found it, open, and had it stopped later by the simple expedient of throwing down the stones until it was blocked. For now I left Geiran and some troops there. By this time the mere sight of a heavy horse and a lance was enough to send the Jarnsmen in the city running. They were not the best, nor even the second-best troops. In fact they were not King Sweyn’s men at all but people who had been settled in Tevin for some time under their own king, Cella, who Sweyn had coerced into helping him. I learned this later. Edlim herded the prisoners into the barracks, where he found what was left of the ala. The first I learned of this was when ap Erbin and Sixth Pennon came charging out to help me. They were armed with everything imaginable—Jarnish short swords, eating daggers, clubs, and even cobblestones. My heart lifted. I had thought they were all dead, even though I had not had time to think at all.

  Time seemed to jump rather than to flow as we fought in the streets. When things were somewhat settled, I asked ap Erbin what had happened and where Osvran was.

  “Dead,” he said. “The Lady of Angas and King Sweyn tortured him in the tower last night.”

  It made no sense for Morwen to be here. And why would she torture him? If she had been here, where was she now? Had she killed him to steal his soul for power? I had seen no women in the field. “Are you sure it was her, ap Erbin? It’s a serious thing to say.”

  “I remember her from Angas’s wedding. She didn’t remember me. I think she must have meant to kill us all, though the Jarnish guards were saying we would be maimed and enslaved.” He touched his ankle where some slaves had a ring set between the bones to prevent them from running and escaping. “Thank the Lady of Wisdom you made it here.”

  “Oh, we’ll probably all die yet. Our survival is entirely dependent on Borthas being on the one hand not a traitor and on the other well organized. Not much to bet our lives on. But do you know where that foul witch Morwen ap Avren is now?”

  “How do you know her name?” he asked, his eyes widening.

  “She’s one of the great queens of this island, how do you not know it? Whoever heard of someone in such a position keeping their name secret? Lords’ names must be known, it is part of the covenant with the land.” Ap Erbin raised his chin but looked startled.

  “I’ve never heard her name spoken before,” he said. “I don’t think I knew it. I didn’t know it, even though her husband is kin to my mother.”

  “She has kept it secret because she is a witch,” I said. “A god told it to me. Now where in the name of seven silver fishes is she?”

  “I don’t know. She may have gone out with Sweyn. But a lot of Jarnish women and children are still here. They’re being guarded in the praetorium.”

  She was not among them. When I got to the praetorium Masarn informed me with great glee that King Sweyn’s wife and baby daughter were there. “Don’t harm them!” I said. “In fact send out an embassy, send Indeg up on the wall, to make sure that Sweyn knows they’re safe. That explains why he didn’t try a frontal attack. Get the other gate blocked right now.”

  “Galba and some of Third Pennon are working on the other gate,” he said. “But I can’t send Indeg on the embassy. Indeg’s dead. I thought you knew. You were there. In the fighting around the wains.” It was just one more death. The pain would come later. I shook my head. “All right. You go. Or send someone. Gormant speaks some Jarnish. Just let them know their people are safe and won’t be harmed if they don’t attack. We need time. Or maybe I ought to go?”

  “I’ll send Glyn. You’re absolutely covered in blood. You’d terrify them, and they’d shoot you.” He grinned, and went. I set off to search the fortress for Morwen. It was Apple’s blood, and maybe Indeg’s. He had been right by me at the beginning of the fight, ready to echo my orders. Some of it was mine too, I had been wounded and bruised in several places but still had too much energy to notice.

  15

  Never betray an ally. If you wish to make an end to an alliance inform your ally that the alliance is over from this time. If you once betray an ally, it will never be possible for you to make another alliance, either with them or with anyone else, for nobody will trust you.

  To make an alliance, it is not enough that you and the person desirous of being an ally share an enemy. When making an alliance you should consider what you will gain from it, and what your ally will gain from it. If you will gain much and they will gain little, you should make the alliance. If they will gain much and you will gain little, you should consider if that little is worth the trouble. It may be; sometimes a little is much. If by the terms they offer they seem to gain nothing, you should look carefully at their reasons for making the alliance. Either it is a trick, or you have overlooked something. At all times while the alliance continues
you must consider who is benefiting in what ways, and if things change, you should consider ending the alliance.

  If it seems that you will both gain different things and in equal amounts, then this is the best kind of alliance; you should make the alliance and keep it.

  —Caius Dalitus, The Relations of Rulers

  When I had seen the gatehouse tower room before, it was bare. Now the stone walls were badly draped with heavy, wrinkled tapestries depicting stick-figure Jarns, fighting. There was one carved chair, placed precisely in the center of the room. By turning her head she had a view from one of the high windows. She was facing the stairway when I came up.

  She was sitting very calmly. She looked, if anything, more regal than ever. Her hands were folded in her lap. She was wearing a gold torc. Her robe was dark red, embroidered with Demedian thorns and the running horse of the House of Emrys in gold thread. It would have given me great pleasure to kill her.

  “Sulien ap Gwien,” she greeted me, smiling a little.

  “Morwen ap Avren, Lady of Angas, Queen of Demedia,” I replied, looking straight at her. “And by the gods of my people you will pay for this day’s work. I would kill you now with this bloody sword—” (it happened to still be in my hand) “—except that it would be better for the realm to bring you to justice in Caer Tanaga. There are too many to swear to this treachery for you to escape this time.”

  “It would tear the realm to pieces if Urdo were to try me,” said Morwen. “Even if—especially if—young Galba ap Galba survives to speak against me.” She smiled, thin-lipped. “But don’t waste your breath on what will never happen. The realm is over. Sweyn will kill Urdo, and soon.”

  “Then why don’t I kill you now?” I suggested. I raised my sword, irrelevantly noticing the new nicks in the blade. She leaned back a little in the carved chair, looking up at me.

  “No, dear. You don’t dare kill me because I’m a bargaining piece with Sweyn, much more so than his wife and girl are, as it happens. For people with such strong gods they’re surprisingly ignorant about power. You might even be able to persude Sweyn to let you out of Caer Lind, not that it will make any difference. You’re a fool, but you’re not such a fool as to kill me and risk killing everyone in this fortress.” She smoothed her hand over the stuff of her skirt.

  “Borthas will be here later today, or tomorrow,” I said. “He’s no hero, but between us in here and him out there we can break Sweyn’s army.” I wasn’t as sure of that as I tried to sound. We’d lost a lot of horses.

  She laughed. It was a particularly unpleasant laugh. “Putting your trust in Borthas is even more misplaced this time than it usually is. The snake is dead. We attacked his army almost as soon as you were out of sight. He never made it back to Caer Avroc. Your messages from him were forged. I killed him myself.” It had to be true. It explained where they had been.

  “Then nobody knows we’re here, and we’re going to die anyway,” I said. In that case I might as well kill her now. The point of my sword came up and was steady. I stepped forward.

  “My brother knows,” she said, quietly. She didn’t even pretend to be frightened. “That message got through. I want him to come up here. He can’t possibly bring enough with him to dent the army Sweyn has. And he has no idea how many men Sweyn has. The reports were sent before anyone saw the extent of it. Sweyn has come from Jarnholme to rule this island. And Sweyn has alliances with Bereich and Aylsfa. They will be kings under him. Bereich are even now attacking into Tinala, and as soon as Urdo leaves Caer Tanaga Ayl will cross the Tamer.”

  It all had a nightmare plausibility. If she’d been lying she’d have said he had an alliance with Cennet as well. Urdo wasn’t a fool, and it wouldn’t happen the way she thought, but she could well have set up the Jarnish side of it. “What do you get out of it?” I asked. “Last time you talked about Urdo as a great king.”

  She laughed. “There are many paths, and I have found a better one. My husband is dead. Did you think I would stay powerless in Dun Idyn where that prating priest won’t leave me alone?” It was news to me that the Lord of Angas was dead. No word of it had come to Caer Tanaga before I left it. “I get the western half of Tir Tanagiri to rule through my son. He is ready for it. The people will follow him. What else I get you wouldn’t understand. Now go out and strike a bargain with Sweyn—he will let you hold out here until Urdo comes if you let me go.”

  “Oh no.” Even in my state I could see how long she would keep that bargain once she was free. “If you are a bargaining piece I shall wait and think what I want to trade you for.” The only reason I didn’t kill her at that moment was that I wanted to do it too much. I called down the stairs. Geiran and ap Erbin came up from where I had left them waiting. “Tie her up. Don’t listen to anything she says. But she may be useful to us, so we don’t kill her yet.” I walked over to the window and looked out. The Jarnish army covered the fields outside. It was already reorganized to face the Caer.

  “She tortured Osvran to death,” said ap Erbin. “The whole fortress heard.”

  “So if we don’t need her as a bargaining piece we try her in Caer Tanaga in front of everyone,” I said, miserably. My left leg and my right side and my left wrist were starting to hurt. I was going to have to tell everyone the bad news.

  Geiran brought the rope and advanced towards Morwen, who did not move and continued smiling faintly. “We can probably prove that she killed Osvran for sorcerous reasons, and ate his soul,” I said. She had tried to do it to me. Geiran stopped and looked at me, eyes wide. Ap Erbin drew in a sharp breath. “She would have needed it to get enough power for her black sorcery.”

  Morwen looked at me with a momentary hatred, and I knew I was right, I had caught her in a weakness. But when she spoke her voice was calm and almost amused. “Oh no. I killed Osvran because he was my dead husband’s bastard. It was an insult to me to let him live.”

  It was too much. I clenched my hand on my sword. She was completely mad in her self-centered pettiness. How dared she kill a man, my friend, a good man, one of Urdo’s best men, not for himself but for an accident of birth? I gritted my teeth. How dared she even lie and so insult his memory. Geiran, beside her, drew back her hand and slapped Morwen across the face. As her hand touched Morwen I felt a wave of heat. Suddenly, Geiran was burning like a torch, all the fat in her body burning at once. I could see her bones through her flesh in that first instant. This was nothing like the spark almost anyone knows how to bring, to start a fire, it was an evil unearthly flame. I took a step towards Morwen, raising my sword. I think I could have killed her. I don’t think her sorcery could have hurt me.

  Geiran carried on moving forward to touch Morwen, her arms open now. She enfolded her in her arms even as the flesh ran off them, even as she was consumed. Morwen laughed, and I saw her reach out for power. I took another step. The tapestries behind her suddenly billowed forward. Morwen was burning. Ap Erbin was screaming and rushing forward, his sword drawn. Morwen wasn’t laughing anymore, and I saw in her eyes that no power was coming, and she knew it. She had burned up her own soul at long last, and now her flesh was burning. She tried to rise, and poor Geiran’s bones scattered to the ground as my sword and ap Erbin’s met in Morwen’s throat. If she wasn’t dead already then we were more merciful to her than she deserved.

  We stood and stared at each other a moment, as our swords clashed together. Then the tapestry fell and a child hurtled out, running straight towards the burning thing that had been Morwen.

  “Mother!” he screamed. I snatched him up only instants before he would have touched what was left of her. He would have caught fire in that unnatural flame and died there with her. He was only nine years old. There were so many times later when I wished I had let him burn.

  He struggled and fought me, trying to draw the short sword at his side, trying to bite me. He was hard to hold. Then ap Erbin screamed again, and pointed, and I saw that the wooden floor was burning around her body in a quickly expanding circle of white f
ire. We turned and ran down the stairs, ap Erbin first and I behind, still struggling with the boy. We came out into the cobbled courtyard. The tower fire rose up from the top of the tower, sending up a high plume of greasy black smoke. The stone would not burn. I handed the child to ap Erbin, who sheathed his sword and held him with both arms, making comforting noises. The boy bit him. People were coming out to see why the tower was burning. Ap Erbin called over Celemon ap Caius, his sequifer, and gave the struggling boy to her.

  “Put him with the prisoners,” he said. “Have him watched. He is the son of a traitor, but only a child, and he is an orphan.” He was screaming curses and the names of gods as loudly as he could as Celemon took him away.

  “Shall we try to put it out?” asked ap Erbin, staring up at the black smoke twisting unnaturally in the dusk.

  “No. It’s Geiran’s pyre. And Osvran’s, too.” I stood and sang the Hymn of Returning then, pulling off my helmet and cutting my hair with my sword, as I had for Darien my brother. Ap Erbin sang with me, and the others who were there were quiet, listening. I prayed with all my heart that Osvran had passed into the quiet halls of Death to speak for his life and go on to make new choices. I feared very much that he had not, that she had stolen his soul and he was gone forever. At least she was gone, too. Morwen had unraveled her own soul for power until she came, unexpectedly, to the end of it.

  When we had finished ap Erbin turned to me. “What in Coventina’s name are we going to tell Angas?” he asked softly.

  “If I ever see Angas again I will be so pleased I don’t care if he kills me,” I said, putting my helmet back on. It had acquired some new dents and a nasty crease, no wonder my head hurt so. She had said she was going to rule through Angas, but I knew he would never betray Urdo. “The first thing is what we’re going to tell Sweyn. How defensible do you think this place is?”