The King's Peace

by Jo Walton

  Raul went off that first day to make a harvest truce. We did not have long before the news that we had lost the Isarnagans reached Sweyn. We knew they had spies among Alfwin’s troops. Recruits would arrive and swear for the year or the season, and when that time was up go home. A few of them would break their oaths and tell all our doings. Others, meaning no harm, would let slip the general talk of the camps. There would be no way to keep such an important development quiet. We could not stop them going home. As long as they fought for us and not against us while they were with us there was nothing we could do about loose tongues. It would have reduced their numbers too much if we expected all the armsmen to swear their lives to Urdo, as an armiger might. Nor could any king support such a great army. Already Urdo had more sworn followers than any other king since before the Vincans came.

  Raul had no trouble making that truce, which would last until the spring thaw. Gerda was pregnant, and Sweyn wanted to be home for the birth. By spring we hoped to be ready again.

  Our Isarnagan allies went back to their own land along with Thurrig, his son Larig, and two pennons from Caer Thanbard. We could ill spare them, but we were bound to fulfill our obligation. With Larig went his brother Chanerig, which caused much trouble later. For now it is enough to say that with Elenn’s mother died all the advantage we ever had of our Isarnagan alliance.

  Within half a month of our return to Caer Tanaga the kings began to come in. Custennin came first with his priest Dewin. Urdo and Elenn sat up late with them talking about the White God. The next morning Dewin’s countenance was even more smug than normal. I soon learned the gossip that he had converted the Queen over supper. This news was not a surprise to me. Elenn had long been interested in the White God. She had spent time in Thansethan and she was very friendly with Chanerig ap Thurrig. I had guessed for some time that she would take the pebble. It seemed to suit her. She was a woman who would want the whole world and all the gods to praise in one direction. Dewin could not have been more pleased if he had converted the gods themselves. I had to laugh when I heard it from a dour ap Cathvan. He was among those who had sought an Isarnagan Queen precisely to avoid this situation.

  Angas arrived very late that night. The next day Mardol the Crow and Penda of Bregheda rode in together. Urdo took Darien’s advice and took them off hunting. Angas and I went with them and found a boar that gave magnificent sport. We were eating it for dinner when Guthrum and Ninian arrived with Rowanna, who immediately started to scold Angas for not bringing Eirann and Teilo with him. He surprised her by listening very quietly until she had finished and then telling her that Eirann was brought to bed of another daughter two days before he left. The whole company drank her health. Custennin then set everyone laughing by asking if the girl were betrothed yet. His son was five years old and he was starting to look for alliances. He looked at the Queen hopefully when he said this, as if to ask about her womb, but she said nothing and only refilled his cup smoothly as if that were all he could want of her.

  Then Flavien ap Borthas arrived. Masarn was out of sorts when he told me this news. It seemed he had bet Gredol two night-guard duties that Flavien would not come. This was rather hard on their pennons, but it would teach them to be more sensible in future. That day I was up on the walls surveying the guard when Haleth called out that she had seen Galba approaching. I walked around to where I would have a clear view of him. It was a month since I had heard from home, and Aurien’s new baby had been due any day when Veniva last wrote.

  I knew at once when I saw them. Duke Galba was there, and Galba ap Galba in his white praefecto’s cloak, and riding between them my brother Morien. Their armsmen and guards came a little behind. I told myself that my father’s wounds must have been bothering him too much to make such a long journey. It was the kind of comforting lie we disdained in the alae. I knew. I left the walls without saying anything and went down to the city gates to greet them. When they came closer I could see that all three of them had their hair close-cropped, and then I knew for sure. Morien wore the colors of a decurio. He did not meet my eyes. Duke Galba dismounted first and embraced me.

  “I’m so sorry, Sulien,” he said, and then all the false hopes faded away as if they had never been, and there was no denying it anymore.

  “My father?” I asked. He raised his chin. Morien came forward.

  “It was a fever,” he said. I remembered now that Veniva had mentioned a fever in the town when she wrote. Some Malmish traders had brought it she had said. “He went among the sick seeking a cure. He found one, but too late for himself.”

  “It was a noble death,” I said. It was almost as noble a death as if he had died for his people on the battlefield. I felt fiercely proud of him even as my heart ached to know I would never see him again. I wished I had had time last winter to go home and talk with him again. I would have to go and see my mother as soon as there was time. I stared at Morien.

  “Gwien was my friend, and I honor him,” rumbled Duke Galba. He patted my shoulder.

  “We have given our second son his name,” said young Galba. It was then that I started to weep.

  “I have to make my homage to the High King,” said Morien. “And you will have to swear as my heir, until I have a child.” I frowned. Morien had got married the year before to Kerys ap Uthbad, Enid’s little sister. With luck she would have a child soon. I did not much want to be heir to Derwen.

  “I don’t expect it will be long,” I said, wiping my face. “Everyone seems to be having babies.”

  “Is there news?” young Galba asked.

  “Eirann Swan-Neck is delivered of another daughter of Angas,” I said. “And my pennon commander ap Sifax has another son. And Gerda has given Sweyn a son at last. This is new news that reached us only yesterday.”

  “I thought you meant the Queen,” said Duke Galba, disappointed. “Almost six years married and no sign of an heir for the kingdom?”

  I shook my head. “When we have peace and Urdo has time to be at Caer Tanaga for two months together, no doubt it will be different,” I said. “Now come into the city, the High King will want to see you, and we can mourn properly for my father Gwien.”

  I do not know what Urdo said to the kings. I was not there. Young Galba and I stood on guard outside the Great Hall as the kings went in, magnificent in reds and greens, glinting with gold. Guthrum and Ninian of Cennet wore cloaks with a swan embroidered in gold and trimmed with swans’ feathers. They had chosen a swan as their house-badge in compliment to Elenn’s gift. Flavien ap Borthas of Tinala wore a jeweled belt. Duke Galba of Magor wore a Vincan drape and carried the little rod that had been the sign of his grandfather’s office. Angas of Demedia wore his white praefecto’s cloak over dark red velvet. He winked at me as he went in. Rowanna of Segantia had a net of silver over her hair, and her embroidered overdress swept the ground. Her cloak was fur-lined. She barely glanced at us as our spears parted before her. My brother Morien of Derwen smiled at us very awkwardly. He wore fine red-and-green linen and the gold ring from my father’s hoard. Cinon of Nene looked at us warily. He looked tired. Custennin of Munew looked indecisive, as always, but today he looked indecisive in heavy green silk with a red half cloak. His pebble hung on a gold chain. Uthbad of Tathal nodded to us, we were his kin by marriage now that his daughter had married Morien. I still missed Enid. Penda of Bregheda marched in proudly, wearing a tall crown. Mardol the Crow of Wenlad followed him, walking slowly. He glanced rapidly at me and at Galba, but his expression did not change. He was wearing dark red embroidered with green and gold and held a rod like Duke Galba’s. And that was the whole of the great allied kings of the island. They had all come.

  Last of all Urdo and Elenn went in, walking slowly. They were dressed all in white, but their cloaks were purple edged with broad gold bands. These cloaks had been found in a chest in Caer Segant. They had belonged to Emrys and before that to some Vincan emperor. Elenn wore her pearl circlet and all the jewelry she had; she glittered and sparkled with a ring on
every finger. Urdo wore only the one plain gold circlet with which he had crowned himself High King under the oak. He looked like a king out of legend. The look in his eyes was enough to mark him regal. I had seen him in worn muddy armor looking just as kingly. He made the other lords look ordinary. I swung the heavy doors closed one-handed and shifted my spear back upright as I turned back. It might be ceremonial, but it had a sharp edge. Galba looked at me.

  “Do you think they’ll agree to it?” he asked quietly in the silence that followed. The little crowd who had gathered to watch the kings go in had mostly scattered, or were loitering out of earshot.

  “I don’t understand how anyone could possibly avoid giving him anything he wants when he looks like that,” I said.

  Galba laughed. “It’s a good thing Glyn didn’t hear you say that,” he said, drily. “But I know what you mean. He knows what he wants, and he’s going to get it. Good. It’s all very well being down at home keeping off the raiders and sleeping dry at nights, but I could do with being back where the excitement is.” He sounded a little wistful.

  “A straight charge before us, crush the Jarns, and everything simple,” I agreed cheerfully. Then I remembered Aurien and their children. “But it’s not just for fun. I mean it isn’t always glory. You were at Caer Lind. Friends die, we could die—”

  “We could die anyway,” said Galba, staring out across the courtyard. “And Urdo’s Peace is something worth dying for. Worth living for, too, most definitely, and well worth getting for my children to grow up without the fear of the Jarnsmen. But I don’t want to see you and the others win it for them while I’m safe out of the way. Morien can look after the troops we leave down there.”

  I looked at the side of his face. His mind was made up. Sorry Aurien. “I think if they give Urdo all their support and let him have the alae, he’ll let you fight. I’ll speak for your right to do it.” There came a roar from inside. A cheer? Or a cry of horror? I couldn’t tell. “If they let him have the alae.” I repeated. “I’m so glad I’m not a king.” There came another roar, this time it was definitely acclamation.

  “I think we’re going to do it,” said Galba, smiling. I couldn’t help smiling back.

  21

  What can you buy with silver?

  The ready goods in the bustling marketplace.

  Bread, and seed, far-traveled wine.

  Toys, and jewels, and works of craft.

  Never a horse.

  Neither trust nor love.

  And no more land than the gaping grave.

  —Tanagan children’s rhyme

  We feinted with Sweyn all that year. When I closed my eyes at night I saw the map of the borderland spread out like a great fidchel board, the armies as pieces struggling towards their different ends. We tried to trick him, and he tried to trick us, and it took us almost until the next harvest before we each tricked the other and came to battle.

  The grain was tall on the stem and beginning to hang heavy as we came into Tevin. My orders were to go forward to the Jarnish hamlet we knew was there and make our presence known. How to do this was my choice. I could have fired the standing crops and the houses and chopped down the farmers as they fled. There were times when the idea of killing and burning everything between us and the sea appealed to me. This wasn’t one of them. I hated acting like the raiders, and no matter what people said it was no revenge. It was not these farmers who hurt and harried us, though our threat to them was a way to make Sweyn fight.

  As we rode towards the hamlet the sun beat down on my head. I remembered the story of Elhanen the Conqueror treating his prisoners with honor, even though they were the family of his enemy. The Vincans had so admired him he had won two generations of peace for Sinea. Tricks and lies had little appeal for me. I signaled to Elidir to call up the decurios as the little hamlet came into sight, lying in a loop in the river.

  “We’re tax gathering,” I said. “Any comments?”

  There was a silence. Masarn broke it. “Isn’t this the place where ap Gavan milked the cow?”

  I laughed. “I think you’re right. Well if so, I hope there are some more people around than there were that day. Don’t attack them unless we’re attacked, don’t loot until we’ve tried persuasion. Anyone speak good Jarnish?”

  “I’ve picked up a little,” said Gwigon Red-Sword. The others muttered agreement.

  “Don’t forget I have Haraldsdottar in my pennon,” Masarn said.

  “Good. Then as soon as the scouts get back we’ll ride in and try talking,” I said. “Your pennon comes in with mine. Nobody to start fighting without the signal. Gwigon and Gormant, bring your pennons around from the sides to surround the village, in case; Rigol and ap Erbin, stay here and be alert.

  Masarn was right. It definitely was the village where Garah had milked the cow. I recognized the way the long straight fields behind the huts sloped down to the river and the way the road narrowed.

  Some of them fled when they saw us coming. Others hid in their huts. An ancient man came out and bowed to me. He looked poor and terrified, like most Jarnish farmers. He started muttering rapidly. His accent was very thick and difficult to follow. As far as I could make out the sense of it he was saying they were poor and honest and begging me to spare them. Meanwhile Masarn and Alswith Haraldsdottar had dismounted and were opening the doors of the huts. The rest of the two pennons I had brought in stayed mounted and alert, making the little place look crowded.

  A cross-eyed old woman came out of the hut Masarn had just opened and walked over and poked the old man. He jumped, spun round, and relaxed. She must have been his wife.

  “Your man says you pay silver?” she said to me. I knew the words for man and pay, and she used the Tanagan word for silver.

  “We are the people of the High King Urdo,” I said. “We will not hurt you. We want supplies. Root vegetables. Meat. Grain. What you can spare. We will pay silver.” I knew very well that silver was almost useless to them so far from any of the king’s markets. They could use the coin to make decorations, but they could not eat it or exchange it. Nevertheless, the old man brightened. The old woman looked very suspicious.

  “Why you buy?” she asked.

  “We need to feed the horses,” I said, honestly enough, though we could have managed without whatever we managed to get from them. We had left Caer Rangor two days before with five days’ food. We also had a depot fairly near, if we needed it, up on Foreth, which the Jarns avoided, thinking it haunted. We wanted Sweyn to know where we were, to think we were fewer than we were, to tempt him closer. We knew Ayl had come north to join him.

  “But why you not take?” she asked. The old man put his hand over her mouth, but she brushed him off and stared at me. Her pale cross-eyed gaze made me uncomfortable.

  “We keep the law,” I said. I didn’t trust my grasp of the language. I called to Masarn, who came up, bringing Alswith. She was wearing armor, like the rest of us, but she had taken her helmet off and her flame-colored hair was streaming free. With that and her pale face, it was immediately clear to them that she was a Jarn. They looked at her suspiciously. The old man took half a step back, hunching his shoulders. “Explain to them that we want there to be a hamlet here next time, too, and don’t forget to tell them that everyone who lives in Tir Tanagiri is under Urdo’s protection. Tell them about the market right, and the markets. Tell them we pay for what we take, but we will take more than the value of the silver as taxes.”

  Masarn stood by Beauty’s head as still as a statue while Alswith explained. The others still had weapons ready.

  “But what when Sweyn hears and murders us all?” the old woman asked. Alswith shrugged.

  “Why are you here, a woman of our people?” the old man asked. “Why do you ride bare-faced to war like a burnt-skin?”

  Alswith pushed back her thick hair with both hands and took a deep breath. “My father was Harald Cellasson, who the usurper Sweyn killed. He died without sons and lies unavenged.”

  Th
e old couple put their hands on their hearts and bowed deeply to her. It was something they could understand, even if they had not once been Cella’s people, and I think they had. It was the argument that had swayed Alfwin, too, when she first wanted to take oath as armiger.

  Then the old man leaned forward, and said, very clearly, “Ohtar Bearsson has passed up river. He has landed near Caer Yavroc.” Alswith spun round to me.

  “I understand,” I said. “When was this?” I asked, slowly.

  “Before three nights,” the old woman said.

  “Three days ago,” Alswith translated. The last we had heard, Angas had been keeping Ohtar busy up in Demedia. Our plans involved keeping Ohtar away from Sweyn until the last minute, which should still be three or four more moves away. We also kept Ohtar away from Alfwin. Alfwin said he would fight his wife’s father’s men, but we did not want to test this more than we had to.

  “How many did he have with him?” I asked.

  “Fifty ships?” the man said, clearly doubtful. “They go by in the dark, boy saw the walrus.” The white walrus was Bereich’s flag, an oddly cheerful beast.

  “Fifty?” Elidir repeated from where she waited close behind me. She sounded incredulous. It did seem rather a lot. I wondered if he meant five.

  “Are you sure it was fifty?” I asked, slowly.

  “Forty, fifty, maybe sixty?” He seemed sincere. Alswith’s eyes met mine, her lips tightened. That would be more than two thousand warriors, loaded full. What could he be doing? That must be everything in Bereich that could float.

  “We will have to take this news back,” I said. “Elidir, Grugin, get everyone ready.”