The King's Peace

by Jo Walton

  Father Geneth took a tentative step towards him. At the same moment Urdo swung down from his horse in one easy movement. He picked up Father Gerthmol’s pebble, wiped it clean on his cloak, and offered it back.

  “No, no!” said Father Gerthmol, cowering away. “He has abandoned me. He has turned his face from me.”

  “It is possible to make a mistake and learn from it without being damned, Father,” Urdo said. “I am no fiend, nor are any of my companions. The beast was a protector of this land, and he has done what he came for and gone on.”

  Father Gerthmol looked at Urdo, and at Raul, and for the first time ever I saw doubt in his face. “A power of the land?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Urdo said. “Sometimes they touch mortal places, though never quite in mortal time. You have seen a sight few people have beheld.”

  Father Gerthmol groped at his chest unconsciously, and finding nothing his fingers clutched at the air. “I should have—few people have such a chance and I threw it away.” I looked over at Darien, who had said the same. To my surprise he was not looking at Father Gerthmol but over at Morthu. The two of them were staring at each other with an intensity and a hatred like nothing I had ever seen. Raul said something to Father Gerthmol, and he replied, but I didn’t catch any of it, I was too concerned for Darien. There was such animosity in Morthu’s face as he gazed upwards, but Darien, sitting calm and relaxed on his horse, met his glare evenly and returned it. I found my hand was on my sword hilt. I looked back to Urdo. He was entirely focused on Father Gerthmol.

  “Take it,” he said, offering the pebble again. “Know that I am no fiend but the king of this land, and part of kingship is knowing how to deal with such creatures.”

  “Everyone has their place, and your place is bringing such protectors into their place in the light!” Father Gerthmol said. He drew himself to his feet, slowly. He looked old and worn, and somehow blind, as if he had seen all too much of the light he talked about and now could make out only afterimages and not the real world around him. “That pebble was taken from me,” he said. He put out his hand, but before he touched the pebble in Urdo’s hand, somehow Morthu was there, worming his way past Father Geneth and the other priests to put his hand on Father Gerthmol’s. “You are not unworthy, Father, take mine,” he said, slipping his pebble from around his neck. Then the monks and half the armigers around were clamoring the same chorus, “Take mine, take mine!”

  Father Gerthmol looked around, and he had tears in his eyes. “Such devotion,” he said. Then he looked at the rest of us, at Ayl and at me. “One day everyone will be part of this family of the Lord,” he said. Almost absently he took Morthu’s pebble and put it around his neck. Morthu looked devout and honored. If I hadn’t seen that terrible malice in his eyes when he looked at Darien, I might have been fooled. I glanced at Darien. He was watching Urdo intently. He had not touched the pebble around his neck.

  Father Gerthmol looked at Urdo. “You have a pebble,” he said. “If the Holy Father meant to take it from me to show me that I was wrong, perhaps he also meant it to come to you. Will you not keep it? Will you not take this opportunity the Lord has sent? Will you not make a statement of faith here before the people?”

  Urdo looked down at the pebble in his hand. He looked up at Raul, who was smiling faintly. “The pebble is only a symbol of remembrance,” Urdo said. And then he gave a great shout, like the trumpet call that calls the armigers to assemble. The whole ala heard it and acted as if it had been the trumpet and gathered around, in silence like on a parade ground. Raul looked apprehensive. Father Gerthmol looked pleased.

  “Let this be heard,” said Urdo, loudly, almost shouting. “All gods of earth and sky, and all gods of home and hearth and kindreds of people, and the White God, Father Creator, God Made Man and Ever-living Spirit. Draw near and hear these words spoken before the people. I am Urdo ap Avren ap Emrys, War-leader of the Tanagans, High King of the Island of Tir Tanagiri by right of birth, by right of conquest, and by right of election by all principalities.” As he went on his voice fell until it was in the usual even tone he used to address large gatherings. “In this land of Tir Tanagiri no one faith or any one god shall be set above another. Nobody shall be made to worship in any way they do not themselves choose, and nobody shall be persecuted for worshiping or refusing to worship any gods. Despoiling any shrine or sanctuary or church shall be a crime to be dealt with by the local lord. All gods and all faiths that are worthy of respect shall be respected. Nothing shall be either demanded or prohibited in the name of any god, saving only sacrifice of another person, which shall be forbidden and accounted as murder.”

  People were looking at each other and raising their eyebrows. I had no idea why Urdo was recounting the part of his law code to do with faith in the gods. Judging by his expression, neither did Father Gerthmol. Urdo continued for a little while, saying that nobody’s fitness to hold any office should depend on which gods they worshiped. Then he stopped, put the pebble into the pouch on his belt, bowed to Father Gerthmol, and remounted.

  Then we were all forming up, and I realized that the Thansethan party were going south with ap Selevan’s pennon and the rest of us were going to Caer Rangor.

  Darien and I dismounted for a moment to say good-bye. “Are you sure you’re all right?” I asked. I couldn’t believe it; I sounded like my mother. I almost laughed at myself. He squirmed in the way children always do when people fuss over them, I remembered doing it myself.

  “I’m not hurt, really,” he said.

  “Would you rather come to Caer Rangor with us?” I asked.

  He hesitated. “Well, I would, because it would be interesting, but I’d only have to go back to Thansethan later, and that would be a nuisance for you. It’s only another two and a half years, and then I can come and be an armiger. And I need to learn what I am learning at Thansethan.” He sounded more grown-up than some of the armigers I had riding for me now. He only needed the strength of arm that time and practice can give.

  “Well, keep working on your riding,” I said. “I may be able to come and see you at Thansethan now, if Father Gerthmol has decided I’m not a fiend. Er—Darien, did Urdo take the pebble or not?”

  “He was amazingly clever,” Darien said, admiringly. “He got out of that one without looking bad to anyone.”

  “But did he take the pebble?” I asked.

  “The pebble is only a symbol,” Darien said, grinning. “He has to be king, and with so many people being heathens it’s hard for him not to step on someone’s toes. Raul’s explained it all to me. It might cause panic and riots, and wars, if he took the pebble, and maybe the gods wouldn’t go with him and the crops wouldn’t grow.”

  “But—” I couldn’t ask again. People were mounted up all around us, and ap Selevan was trying to signal to me that he was ready. I ignored him. “What was that with you and Morthu?”

  “Oh.” Darien abruptly stopped smiling. “Just letting him know that I know he tried to kill me, and that I’m ready for him now. I thought before that he had some honor, that he’d wait for me to grow up and fight him. I’ll kill him then.”

  Not if I can kill him first, I thought. But there was no way with honor, and he was Angas’s brother. Then I realized what I was doing, sending Darien off with him. “Stay in Thansethan from now on,” I said.

  “He won’t try the same thing again,” Darien said.

  “Don’t trust in that. Stay close, and keep people with you.” I made a hand signal to ap Selevan to come up. “I’ve changed my mind,” I said to him. “You come with me to Caer Rangor, I may need you. Tell Gormant to come up. His pennon can do the escort duty and take the queen home.” Ap Selevan shrugged, frowning a little, and acknowledged the order. Darien looked at me with an expression I could not interpret. Gormant came up, and I told him the change of orders. He looked puzzled but didn’t query me.

  “Good-bye, then,” Darien said. I hugged him, and he stood there. Then as we mounted up and started to move off he
called out, “I forgot to tell you. Keturah had a foal. He’s beautiful, and I’m calling him Pole Star.”

  “His great-grandfather had that name,” I called. “Did you know?”

  He shook his head, and grinned, and rode away with the monks and Gormant’s pennon. I took my place in the column of the already moving ala. Luth, Urdo, Raul, and Ayl were at the front, so ap Erbin and I moved to the back, last except for some lame horses and the scouts and pickets, who fell in as we passed them. The whole column was moving north at good speed. We have to camp at nightfall, but we would be in Caer Rangor sometime the next day. There was no question of burning Cinon where he fell, of course—he was a king and had to be taken home.

  The mist had lifted and the sun was shining through frequent breaks in the clouds. “Did he take the pebble or not?” ap Erbin asked me quietly as we rode along. He looked as confused as I was.

  “I have no idea,” I said. From the look of it, nobody else did either.

  “He definitely said everyone would be free to worship whatever gods they choose and however they want,” ap Erbin said.

  “I heard that part loud and clear,” I said.

  “I think he bluffed them,” ap Erbin said, finally. “Father Gerthmol was trying to push him, and it doesn’t do to try and push Urdo. He did something they didn’t expect, like bringing up the reserves in a flank attack.”

  “I’m glad I’m not a king,” I said.

  We camped at sunset. I set a double sentry ring, I was still not sure that there was not more trouble planned. I gave ap Selevan’s pennon patrol duty, by numbers, so there would always be someone with Morthu. Then I went to my tent and Elidir heated oil and rubbed me down. It was foul-smelling linen-seed oil, but I didn’t care about the smell, only how much better it made my bruises feel. It was a pot my mother had sent with strongmint crushed into it which may have helped the bruises even more but which didn’t help the smell.

  Urdo came up as I was lying on my back on the grass in front of my tent, waiting for the oil to sink in enough that I could put my clothes on again without having them smell of strongmint and oil for months. “You’re lucky you didn’t break a rib,” he said, looking at my bruises.

  “I’ll be all right in a day or two,” I said. “Maybe I should get the ala to practice belly-flop landings onto horses, except it would be hard to get anything high enough to drop them from.”

  Urdo smiled. “Luth caught you very neatly,” he said.

  “Luth’s very good with a horse,” I said. “I should thank him. Where is he?”

  “If you can believe it, he and Ayl have gone off to try and spear some ducks they saw on a pond a little way back.”

  “I just hope they took guards—and that they don’t get lost again,” I said. “I’d have thought they’d both have had enough hunting for a month at least.”

  Urdo grinned.

  Talog came over then, walking slowly, a bowl of steaming hot porridge in either hand. “Elidir said you were resting here,” she said, handing them to us. Mine smelled of honey, and I could see some fat bacon in it.

  “You’re both very good to me,” I said. “I’d have made it to the cook-fire for my share.”

  “You deserve a bit of special treatment now and then,” Talog said. I was so touched I could feel tears in my eyes. I reached into my pack to find my spoon so nobody would see. “Oh, Urdo, Gunnarsson was looking for you, shall I tell him to come over?”

  “If you would,” Urdo said. I started on my porridge. It was wonderful. Urdo waited until Talog has gone far enough not to hear him before he asked, “Sulien, did you call Turth?”

  I jumped, startled. “No. Certainly not. I wouldn’t know how to, and I wanted you to have a trial and call everyone together, as I wrote to you.”

  “You are heir to land, you could have called him,” Urdo said, stirring his porridge. “I did not think you had, but I needed to be sure.”

  “I wish Kerys would get on and have a baby so I needn’t be heir to Derwen,” I said. “But I was far from there, and such a thing never crossed my mind.”

  “Then he came uncalled, after the sacrilege indeed, but I think he came for Darien,” Urdo said. We looked at each other for a moment. I stopped chewing. “Luth and Ayl and anyone else who thinks about it will think it natural enough, if they think Darien is my son,” Urdo said, very quietly. “It seems the land thinks you have indeed given me an heir as we agreed.”

  I didn’t know what to say, the thought of Darien as High King was so strange. But Turth had come and saved Darien from harm. “He killed Cinon,” I said. “But Cinon is not all the threat; he could never have planned that. It may have been Flavien, but I think it might have been Morthu. I don’t have real proof, but Morthu hates Darien, Darien is sure of it. And—well, he sends letters all the time, and the way Arflid was killed was based on a dream of Ulf’s he could have read.”

  “A dream of Ulf’s?” Urdo asked, raising his eyebrow.

  “That’s what he said. Ah, you can ask him yourself, here he comes.” I had just caught sight of Ulf coming through the next line of tents.

  He hesitated when he saw us. Urdo waved him up, and he approached cautiously. He did not look at me at all, until he was close, when he bowed to both of us and said, “Sire, Praefecto.” He stood very awkwardly.

  “Sit down,” Urdo said. He sat down but remained ill at ease. After a moment, Urdo said, “You wanted to see me?”

  “It’s about when you were gone after the boar,” Ulf said. “It’s true I started the fighting, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “What exactly happened?” Urdo asked. I started to eat again. The bacon put new strength into me.

  “The boar appeared,” Ulf began. “Everyone was rushing about. I was trying to get mounted. There were more people than there should have been. Then the boar charged, crushing Cinon and some of his men. Suliensson and ap Gwien jumped onto it,” He sort of half glanced at me, then fixed his gaze back on Urdo very quickly. “You and Luth and Ayl went galloping off after them. Then there was a moment when everyone stood about with their mouths open. Ap Erbin was trying to organize some people who were mounted into coming after you. Elwith was signaling our pennon together. I tried to get to her, but there were monks getting under our hooves. Then Father Gerthmol came into the center of the camp and started shouting that the beast had taken the evildoers and that nobody should follow them. Ap Erbin started shouting back, and so did some other people. It was all very loud, but whenever any horses tried to move off in an organized way the monks seemed to be in the way, clutching at us, and we couldn’t just ride them down. And some of the ala were arguing, too, and even more of them were asking where you were then. And then Morthu of Angas said that we should wait until you came back, if you were going to, and at present it seemed as if Aylsfa and Nene were without kings. He’d just opened his mouth to say something about the High Kingdom. I was really quite close to him, and the only way I could think of to shut him up was to knock him down.”

  “With your ax?” Urdo asked, very stern.

  “No!” Ulf sounded sorry. “With my foot. I kicked him in the back, and then I jumped off Smoky and we had a little go-round. I just hit him. There weren’t any weapons involved. But some of his friends came to help him, and some of my friends came to help me, and Father Gerthmol was bleating all the time about God and demons and evil. I punched someone in Luth’s pennon as well as Morthu. I don’t know who it was, but she’d drawn a dagger.”

  “Would you know her again?” I asked.

  “No, sir,” he said, still not looking at me, his face absolutely wooden. I’m sure Urdo also guessed he was lying, but neither of us said anything. “But anyway, about then Raul came forward and just pushed between us, bare-handed, calling out to stop, and we all did stop fighting. He’s a brave one, even if he is a priest. Then he had a shouting match with Father Gerthmol, saying you were no evildoer but the true king and that you might need help up there in the hills with that great cre
ature. Then he said he was going, and ap Erbin backed him up. Father Gerthmol said if he did he would throw him out of Thansethan, and Raul said that was fine, he wanted to leave anyway, and Father Gerthmol said he was giving him back his vows. So he looked around for a horse and a spear, and as I was next to him I gave him mine, and Smoky, too. And ap Erbin was giving orders to the whole ala to mount up and take up formation, but I couldn’t because I didn’t have my horse, so I stayed down.” He drew a breath. “Raul and ap Erbin between them had stopped the fighting, but there was still arguing when they were gone. Father Gerthmol said it was clear we’d never see any of them again, and he wanted an escort to take Cinon’s body to Thansethan. Cinon’s men didn’t like that idea; they wanted to take him home to Caer Rangor. Sidrok was asking if he was king of Aylsfa and hinting around taking the pebble if Father Gerthmol would crown him. Not that that would last for two minutes back home with his people. He’s not much of a Jarnish king, that one, whatever he thinks. Ap Selevan and I just stood over Cinon, watching each other’s backs. And Morthu was saying things, not much, but calling Sidrok brother and doing little things to change the way people were thinking. I wanted to fight him—in fact I was sorry I hadn’t used my ax and killed him before.”

  I found myself raising my chin in agreement. Ulf wasn’t looking, but Urdo frowned at me. “There’s no proof Morthu is involved,” he said.

  “He’s a snake in any case,” Ulf said.

  “Being a snake is not proof of evildoing,” Urdo said. “Not all snakes have poison in their fangs. And he is the brother of Angas and of Penarwen. Killing him would have serious consequences. Do you have any proof, either of you, that he was involved?” He looked at each of us.