“I quite agree,” said Gissur, giving Huginn a withering look. “So this sister of yours. She’ll decide the Karvak response if the Althing rejects you?”
Steelfox frowned. She had not yet conceded the point of waiting for the Althing. “The Grand Khan, my brother-in-law, decides which countries we conquer.”
“And just who,” said a snowy-haired old chief named Ylur, “is currently on the menu?”
“Alas.” She smiled. “That is information I could only disclose to an ally.”
“Ha!” said red-haired Styr, tipping down some of the green drink. “I like you, Karvak! Though we may be enemies soon enough. I think we can guess what will happen, Ylur. Oxiland is of course lovely this time of year, but face facts, we’re poor. And Spydbanen’s a barbaric wilderness, even for us! The real prize is Svardmark, especially Soderland. If Corinna’s realm falls, who’s left? Gullvik can barely hold onto Grunndokk. Laksfjord and Lysefoss are just independent towns. The Five Fjords have some power, but it always ends up with Regnheim and Vestvjell at each other’s throats, and Lillefosna, Grimgard, and Vesthall choosing sides. They can’t even agree on a capital, let alone a unified defense. Garmstad and Ostoland might put up a fight, but Corinna had better watch the skies. With her gone, these Karvaks can pick the rest of Kantenjord like meat falling from an overcooked carcass.”
There was silence at the table.
Jokull Loftsson’s voice was subdued. “Let me guess further,” he said to Steelfox. “Your terms of alliance would require placing armies on our land.”
Steelfox bowed her head. “The Kantenings are accounted wise.”
Ylur pounded his fist on the table. “There is no point even hammering this out. Such talk must await the Althing. The other chiefs would want our heads for even discussing this much.”
As he spoke, Steelfox noted Jokull’s wife, Torfa, frowning at the proceedings. Torfa and a group of female slaves had been serving them, but now the lady of the hall paused and narrowed her eyes at Steelfox. Torfa leaned over and hissed something in Jokull’s ear. The uncrowned king’s face reddened as though slapped, and he snapped something Steelfox couldn’t follow. Torfa stiffened and exited the hall.
Well, now, Steelfox thought. That was interesting.
Through Qurca’s eyes she saw Torfa leave the great hall and snarl at Innocence. “Your master and his witch-woman are ensorcelling our men! Well, they haven’t counted on the strength of Oxiland’s women! We will die before we lose our freedom!” That said, she stalked toward the main farmhouse.
This concerned Steelfox. Qurca also caught sight of some of Steelfox’s own party approaching Innocence. This concerned her also.
These allies were not soldiers but three drab-robed warrior monks bearing unusual curved, serrated blades. Steelfox bit her lip. Her use of the Fraternity of the Hare was an alliance of convenience, and sometimes it seemed rather more convenient for the Fraternity. It couldn’t be coincidence they approached Innocence while she was otherwise occupied.
She sent Qurca to drop upon the eaves.
But now she must focus upon the feast. All the chieftains but Huginn wanted to defer decisions till the Althing, making it clear Steelfox should attend. Huginn was saying, “Friends! You’re too quick to give up your rights! Since when has the Althing decided when and how we can raise fighting men? Gissur! When Tryggvi of Cauldronfall slew your thrall, did you wait till summer to raise a force and demand compensation? Jokull, when Palmar of Winterfork contested your claim to the Ashblack, did you need the lawgivers to tell you to station men there? We have always had the right to raise troops from those sworn to us . . . and to buy the services of more. I don’t see how hosting the Karvaks, if they cause no trouble, would be in principle any different.”
“Ah, Huginn the lawyer has returned,” Jokull said, and his tone was not unkind. Steelfox herself, annoyed as she was with the man, had to nod his way in thanks.
“Yes,” Ylur said, “he could well argue that case. At the Althing.”
The chieftains began loosing claims and counterclaims regarding the laws like so many arrows shot from horseback. Steelfox could not keep up, and so she dared listen through Qurca’s ears to Innocence’s conversation with the warrior-monks.
She couldn’t see them from the falcon’s perch, but she clearly heard Innocence say, “I’ve seen you somewhere.”
“And I have seen you, Innocence Gaunt,” said a woman’s voice. “It was during a battle, and matters were confused, and soon you fled upon your flying carpet. But I know you.”
“It’s not my flying carpet. It’s its own master.”
“Where is it now?”
“I wish I knew. Last I remember we were both plunging into the sea. What is your name, why are you bothering me, and what happened to your ear?”
“I am Dolma, of the Fraternity of the Hare, now sworn to the service of Lady Steelfox of the Il-Khanate of the Infinite Sky. And I have cut off an ear so that I can hear better.”
“Dolma. I don’t want riddles, Dolma. I want answers.”
“Such imperiousness for one so young! I gave up an ear so that it could be magically preserved and kept by our order. Anything said to it, any sound that comes its way, I will hear. In this way we may keep informed across the whole face of the Earthe. And you? What is happening to your forehead?”
“I—do not know. In the days since you arrived, people have said a pattern is growing there. Like a birthmark, only new.”
Steelfox wished she could see what he described, as she hadn’t managed to get close to Innocence yet. But she didn’t want Dolma to notice Qurca if she could help it.
“And you fear it,” Dolma said. “You fear it is connected to your power. The power of the Heavenwalls.”
“I’ll ask again. What do you want with me?”
“Innocence Gaunt, I hear things. I hear you are hunted and coveted. By people who might like you to be emperor of Qiangguo. By people who might like to control the emperor of Qiangguo. By people who couldn’t give a fig about Qiangguo but know power when they smell it. And by things who feel any of the above, but that are not people.”
“And?”
“And . . . your father was once kind to me. Maybe he just meant to use me. But I still appreciate the things he said. They helped me to find another path for myself, and the Fraternity. And if you need a friend, I would like to be that friend.”
Steelfox heard the smirk in Innocence’s voice. “Because you want to be friends with the emperor of Qiangguo?”
“Because I see a young person with a good heart, in a bad place. As I once was.”
Inside the men were still arguing.
“I have the right to have guests, Gissur! And an army! And an army of guests!”
“Surely things are different, Huginn, when a foreign power is involved! If these were Princess Corinna’s knights, would we even be talking about it?”
“Perhaps,” Jokull said, “we’ve fueled this fire with enough alcohol. Let us have a round of toasts and resume talk tomorrow.”
“A fine idea,” Ylur said.
“Indeed,” said Styr.
Outside, Qurca noted Torfa returning from the farmhouse with a large loaf of bread, a large knife jabbed within it. Her steps were lively through the snow.
“A last toast then,” Jokull said. “To old friends and new.”
Steelfox raised her mug, ready to ride into battle with the green drink once more. “Skal,” she said with the others, and soon her mouth felt like the heart of the Desert of Hungry Shadows.
But outside Torfa paused to say to Innocence, “Your master is a traitor and don’t think I don’t know it,” before stepping inside.
“What did she mean?” said Dolma, sounding concerned.
“I don’t know,” said Innocence, worry filling the voice that had so striven to be nonchalant. “When she came out she gave me a look to make my hair match the snow.”
Torfa strode to the table with her sheath of bread.
Suddenly fearful, Steelfox rose—
Torfa seized Huginn’s chair, sliding him back, making him gag on his liquor.
“These men are too weak to defy you, traitor,” she cried. “But I shall make you look like Orm One-Eye, whom you so celebrate in your songs!”
Out came the knife from the bread, and she tried to sheathe it anew in Huginn’s skull.
Gissur beside her tried to knock her aside, and the blade grazed Huginn’s face. Blood sprayed. Huginn screamed.
“No!” Steelfox shouted, reaching out uselessly.
Her men misinterpreted the gesture.
Before Huginn could finish gasping, “No one attack—my word will carry,” two arrows had pierced Torfa.
She dropped dead to the floor.
“Fools!” Steelfox screamed at her soldiers, who blinked at her stoically.
Armed men surrounded Steelfox and her small escort. She raised her hands, demanding that her warriors do the same.
“Torfa!” the uncrowned king was wailing, bent over her unmoving body. “My wife! Huginn, you are to blame!”
“She attacked me unprovoked—”
“Because you brought these people here.” Jokull stared at Steelfox. “She acted as Kantening women will, goading us men to fight.”
“She goaded me with a knife. . . .”
“Jokull,” Steelfox said, aching for the man’s loss and desperate to make amends. “You have my profound apology for my men’s actions. They will be punished for acting without command. I myself will appear at your Althing—”
Jokull’s laughter was savage and bitter. “At the Althing! No. As Huginn says, a chief may seek justice before then. I’ll have the lives of all you outlanders, and yours as well, Huginn, master of lies.”
“No!”
Innocence Gaunt stood in the doorway, the one-eared woman Dolma beside him. He was staring at Huginn, whose face was drenched in blood. He took no notice of the dead woman.
The mark that had grown upon his forehead looked like a twisting of twin dragons.
“Huginn’s scribe,” Jokull said. “This doesn’t concern you. If you don’t wish to share your master’s fate, leave now.”
“No, I am not ‘Huginn’s scribe,’ barbarian scum. I am Innocence Gaunt.”
He raised his hand. Steelfox saw no outward sign of power. But a winter wind blasted through the door.
It buffeted Dolma and the others of the Fraternity of the Hare, though Innocence himself stood unaffected. The wind passed him and overturned the table, scattering the Kantenings and shattering the far windows. Only Huginn and the Karvaks stood unharmed.
“Go,” Steelfox said to her men, for she knew enough not to reject a miracle from Earth and Sky. “Come with us if you want,” she told Huginn.
“That seems wise,” Huginn muttered. “Come on, boy.”
“What?” Innocence was saying, staring at the wreckage. “What have I done?”
“Saved us,” said Huginn. “Don’t ruin it. Move!”
Steelfox led her two soldiers and Dolma’s monks, with Huginn and Innocence, to the high hill of the church, above which three of her balloons were tethered.
Evidently trouble had been spotted and conclusions drawn. The church doors were shut fast.
She was angry with herself now for bringing down only a small group. Below, maddened Kantenings, some armed and armored, ran toward the hill.
“Open up!” Huginn cried out, pounding the doors. “Sanctuary! Sanctuary!”
“No, Huginn!” the abbot called from within. “I don’t know what’s happened, but if Jokull’s men are after you, you’re not coming in.”
“Pious hypocrite!” Huginn shouted back. “Boy, do that door-blasting thing again.”
“I don’t want to use the power again,” Innocence said.
“Do you want to lose your head? That’s the alternative. Trust me, I’ve written half the histories around here.”
Innocence raised his hands. Nothing happened.
“I can’t do it,” he said. “It’s like my chi is knotted up. . . .”
“I don’t know what that means,” Huginn said, “but they’re going to knot up your intestines, boy.”
Steelfox watched through Qurca’s eyes as the Kantenings approached. They had minutes only. “I did not want to meet like this, Innocence Gaunt, but know that I will give you sanctuary. I don’t want to destroy any hope of alliance. But I will not let them kill us. If you can’t get us in, I will kill the Kantenings. I can do it.”
“I believe it.” He looked up at the church’s bell tower. “I think there’s another way. Even with my chi in a tangle, I think I can do this . . .”
He sprang in a way she could only believe because she saw it through two sets of eyes. Up to the roof, ascending in wild leaps toward the apex, Innocence scaled the church.
“You are fond of words,” Steelfox sneered at Huginn. “Talk sense into your priest. I will do the same with your countrymen.”
“Why, yes, wise and mighty Steelfox,” Huginn said, clutching his face, “I do believe I will survive my wound. Thank you for your concern.”
She ignored him and spoke to her guards. “Red Mirror. Nine Smilodons. Your mistake has cost us much. We have spilled blood; the scent of it is still in my nose. Men have died for less. And yet I am your leader and the ultimate responsibility is mine. I give you the chance to earn your lives.”
“Yes, liege,” Red Mirror told her, and Nine Smilodons said, “If you order us into fire or water, we go.” Shame burned in their eyes.
They had acted, she knew, to protect her; yet they did not explain or beg. Very good.
The three Karvaks stepped forward so that all ascending the hill could see them, and in that moment it was as though her father the Universal Conqueror spoke through Steelfox.
“Kantenings of Oxiland! Because of a misunderstanding, there has been violence! I regret it! But if you do not allow us to withdraw, the bloodshed will be far greater than you can imagine. At this moment the best archers in the world have taken aim from the balloons above. Their positions are secure. You will be slaughtered before you can so much as spit at us! You make brave talk, Kantenings, and ambush people while they sit in hospitality. But we Karvaks, we make war. War on a scale you cannot comprehend. Do you want war?”
The Kantenings paused, Steelfox held her breath, and the only sound upon the hill was the dim murmur of a gently disturbed church bell.
CHAPTER 14
CHANGELINGS
Even before she’d fully believed they existed, A-Girl-Is-A-Joy would have thought battling a troll unwise. Having tangled with a couple of lightweight specimens, she would have revised it to “foolish.” Actually confronted with one of the toughest of them, a boulder field brought to life, whose fists could shatter walls—as Rubblewrack was demonstrating by pulverizing fragments of crystal masonry littering the underground plaza—Joy realized a better word was “insane.”
“Fight me!” Rubblewrack bellowed, her voice loud enough to raise echoes from the cavern and shimmering hums from the crystal towers.
But despite all the tricks she’d learned from Walking Stick, like the use of chi to enhance leaps and strikes and the use of mindfulness to appraise a foe, she had no chance of defeating this troll.
Except from up here.
Her initial leap had landed her on one of the many balconies facing the troll-filled plaza. Dozens of crystal shards lay beside her, for all these buildings were ancient and crumbling, or at any rate splintering. Weary though she was from the leap, she still could hurl pieces of crystal at Rubblewrack.
They didn’t do the troll-woman much harm, merely scraping her stony body, but they seemed to hurt, judging by the shrieks. Enraged, she began punching the tower’s base. The structure vibrated, and Rubblewrack was engulfed in a flurry of fragments, lacerating herself even more. But it seemed she could not knock the tower from its foundations. Probably.
“Hey!” Joy yelled. “You! I’m up here!”
O
ther trolls began laughing. The laughter of trolls was like a thousand games of stone dice happening at once.
“Fight me!” Rubblewrack stormed into the tower.
It took her some time to arrive. Joy used that period to calm her breathing, clear her mind. She did her morning exercises of life energy cultivation, her body slowly weaving to and fro, her arms making slow-motion ripples in the air, to the cacophonous laughter of trolldom below. The chi circulating through her upper body linked smoothly with the energies of her legs, hips, and waist. She was ready.
When Rubblewrack arrived at the balcony, she smiled, bowed, and leapt.
Her freshly enlivened chi let her fall lightly as a leaf.
“Hey!” she called up when she arrived at the cavern floor. “I’m down here!”
The trolls laughed again, a little earthquake of mockery. It seemed to Joy the laughter injured Rubblewrack more than the shards had. The troll-woman screamed and leaped.
Rubblewrack had forgotten she could not land like a leaf.
On impact her rocky arms and legs went four separate ways, and her stony head bellowed, “Fight me!” from a boulder torso.
Joy gathered to her then all the anger she’d so carefully held in reserve. She sped forward, focused her chi in a wave moving from waist to foot, and kicked Rubblewrack’s head off.
It rolled across the square and came to a stop near a crowd of chortling trolls.
“Stop laughing!” the head kept saying. “Stop laughing and get me back together!” They ignored both pleas and kicked the head back and forth among themselves.
“That was,” the folklorist Inga said, running up to Joy, “astonishing.” Just behind her, her colleague Malin nodded with wide eyes. Inga added, “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” Joy said, a little surprised. “Is . . . Rubblewrack all right? I went a little crazy there at the end.”
“Probably,” Inga said. “It’s very hard to kill a troll. Though that one in particular seems to have bad luck.”
“Trolls think with their whole bodies,” Malin said. “Their whole bodies are an idea.”
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