by Andre Norton
“There are dales left without a lord. Some are dead, others have a few people seeking to survive, but without leadership. I thought perhaps to find one such and build a keep there. I could find some girl, sensible and of courage to aid me as keep’s lady in that.”
“And now?”
I spoke without thinking but my words were right to me. “Now? I took my life from you. When I took sword from your hand I became leige-man. The path you would choose shall be mine also. What would you wish us to do? Although,” I gazed about, “there are good horses and gear here yet. And in other places we could find good men to use them. Women and children who would accept any honest refuge.”
She smiled at me. “Then let us find what those wolfsheads may have left and plunder them. After that,” her smile widened, “I have a dale you might consider.”
I bowed over her hand. “Lead on, Meive. I think I shall be happy to follow you. So long as,” I looked up at the circling bees, “so long as your friends have no objection.”
She laughed and I laughed with her. The future looked to be interesting and Ayneta’s prophesy came to my mind. I would wander, she had said, before I found treasure unlooked for. I knew not if this dale was the treasure. But of a certainty I had not looked for it.
I followed Meive as she moved through the undergrowth. One by one we found those who had fled. It puzzled me that each was dead and Meive found them without appearing to search, though she seemed distressed by the sight. At length, as we despoiled each outlaw, I spoke of it. Meive glanced up from where she wrestled loose a sword-belt, her hands determined despite the sickened look on her face.
“My wing-friends tell me. Who else should know where bandits fell save those who slew them. I told them not to kill once the bandits fled, but the queens overruled me.”
I gazed with still more respect at her bees. “They are larger than I have ever seen. And darker in color. Whence came they?”
Her answer left me deeper in awe. “From a shrine of the Old Ones. They were a gift of she who dwells there. They came of their own will: they stay because they wish, and they are my friends.” She must have seen my nervousness. “Do not fear. They would never harm one who does not wish ill to me. They are friends, guards at need, watchers and protectors. Now, let us seek out where these men grazed their horses. I would know what number of beasts we have to deal with.”
I caught up a chunk of stale bread as I passed the campfire. Then I led the way. When I whistled, Tas came nickering to me on over-tight hobbles. I fed him the bread, stroking his neck and muzzle as he munched. Meive looked him over.
“A good beast. But it looks as if he has not eaten well of late.” I had seen that myself. I suspected that the man Tas had kicked when I was taken had revenged himself by starving my poor beast with hobbles so tight the poor animal was hard put to it to walk.
“That can be remedied.” I freed Tas from his hobbles and let him move freely. He finished his bread and at once went to a place in the tiny valley where the grass grew lushly. His head went down eagerly as his teeth tore at the grass. Meive was counting the beasts that grazed with him.
“Counting those we have secured at the camp, there are sixteen. I would say none are of great quality, but all appear healthy enough.” I nodded as she continued. “In my dale there are other bandit mounts and a full team of workhorses. The bandits who came there brought them. Later, when the outlaws lay dead, I returned to secure the team.”
“Will not they have escaped?” She had said it was several years since she had been back to her dale. Horses wandered. Meive shook her head.
“No, I think they will not. At the far end of the dale there is another. Only a small valley, perhaps fifty acres, no more. The path lies around a great rock so that the bandits did not notice it.” She sighed. “If my people had seen death coming they might have escaped to hide there. I know not how they were taken by surprise. But afterwards I took the horses there. The cattle belonging to my family, and the goats belonging to Granny Warsten were already there. I blocked the trail out and, save for some mischance, all are like to be there yet.”
I was surprised. “Cows? How many? That is …” I shut my mouth hastily. I was about to say for a small dale to have cows was riches. Usually the smaller dales had only goats. Meive had an odd look on her face and I feared I had offended.
“We had one cow for milk. And we had kept her bullcalf since he was not yet old enough to sell or exchange with another dale. She is a good cow and only six summers in age. Long ago my family was given blood-price. It paid for a cow and we have kept a cow ever since.”
“A bullcalf?” My mind had gone in a different direction. I grinned at her. “I think it likely your hidden vale holds more than one cow and her calf by now. You have been gone three years.” I was working out the times. If the calf had been too young to sell he must have been still sucking, perhaps two or three months old. He would have been old enough to breed at ten months. So it was possible by now the vale held his mother, the bullcalf and two other calves. Riches indeed to those who would rebuild a dale and feed the people.
“I must go to the shrine,” Meive said abruptly. “I am called.”
“Does your lady wish me to come, or should remain here?” I was agreeable to either, although I would wish to see the shrine—from a safe distance at least. I had always loved the tales of the Old Ones.
“Come with me. If my lady doesn’t want you to enter I’m sure she’ll make that known.”
I was sure, too. That was what bothered me. Yet I followed Meive. I had named myself leige-man and it was my duty. We entered the valley, and once I came in sight of the place I halted to stare. It was beautiful, yet it was not the beauty which called to me, but the peace. The sense that here was sanctuary. I walked forward, leaving Meive behind on the edge of the pavement. I paced slowly through the door and entered a room. I cannot say all that I saw or what was said. I moved in a dream and all around me was the scent of flowers.
I only know questions were asked of me and I made answer. And in the end I bowed low over a hand out-stretched in acceptance. I left with the taste of heather-honey in my mouth and such serenity in my heart it was as if I had come home. Meive smiled at me as I returned to her side.
“The winged-ones accept,” she said softly. “Come to Honeycoombe and be welcome there.”
We returned to make camp where the horses grazed. I slept quietly that night. My pains from the rough treatment Devol and his men had given me were eased, my nightmares banished. I woke calmly to work beside Meive. I knew that other things would intrude, I could be injured, or ill, we could be attacked by other outlaws. But for a brief time the peace of the shrine would hold. It was a healing time and freely given.
We two worked hard the next five days. I found the bodies of the bandits who had attempted to flee; not one had succeeded. Meive found it a sorrowful sight, so that I alone disposed of the bandits, thinking no less of her. She had been strong when strength was required of her, now she had me and could take time to grieve at what had had to be done.
It was not as if there was no work for her. As well as my disposal of the bodies, the beasts all had to be cared for and Meive’s hives readied for departure to Honeycoombe once more. We set out at last, the wooden sledges sliding smoothly, bearing their loads of humming hives. We reached Meive’s cave and I asked her to remain.
“Whyfor? Honeycoombe is my home, too. Do you not think I would fight for it as well?”
Of course I did. I’d seen her mettle already. “I spoke wrongly. Come then. But let us not walk together. Thus, if we are attacked, the enemy will find us harder to strike down.” We set out, I riding Tas and Meive astride Drustan. Ahorse it took only a few hours to reach her dale, but once we were near I dismounted us, tethering the beasts and approaching on foot.
“Circle to the right. I will go to the left as far as I can travel. If we find nothing amiss we can perhaps descend, though I would rather we waited the night to be sure.” M
eive nodded, seeing the sense in that, and moved away without speaking. Her bees paused, then divided, one half remaining with the girl and the others rising to circle above me. I was unsure, but the Lady of the Shrine had spoken me fair and Meive had named me acceptable to her wing-friends. I looked up at them.
“Of your courtesy-guard I thank you, winged-ones.” The soft humming seemed to deepen. I made myself take care as I circled, though in truth I felt alive and joyful as I had not for many weeks. Best not to be so joyous over recent events that I was fallen on by outlaws again. Once had been enough. But there were none, and after a night sleeping Meive and I rode down into what had once been a small fair dale.
VIII
My gaze darted everywhere as we rode down the steep narrow trail. It was a hidden dale. I knew, had I been alone, I would have found it only by accident. That was well. It made more likely our chances of staying safe and perhaps rebuilding what had been here before Neeco’s treachery showed bandits a way into Landale, where they destroyed all that Meive had held dear. Once the valley widened and the trail leveled I could see the buildings more clearly. They had been sturdily built, most of mortared stone and still standing, though the past three years had done some damage. But so isolated had the valley been that none had found them to plunder. All were still shut tight as Meive had left them.
“Meive, when you left, were the belongings of each family still within?”
“They were.” In her eyes was the pain of remembrance. “Each home within is just as it was the day the bandits came. Where they looted, things lie tumbled. Where they slept the bed will still bear the mark of their filthy bodies.”
I could see her sorrow that she had not tidied such imprints of the bandit’s passage, but she had been thirteen. There was only so much she could have done. I said so; some of the sorrow eased in her face. I sought for something to distract her from the work we would begin and found it in a memory which alarmed me even as it occurred to me. I had been a fool, how could I have forgotten? I must not let the serenity of the shrine allow me to become careless.
“There is a danger to us,” I said abruptly. Meive turned to look at me sharply. Her gaze flashed about the dale.
“A danger?”
“Aye. I had forgot in all the excitement of your rescue and our coming here. Listen,” I recounted more fully the tale of Devol’s plans. How I had been taken for ransom. When I finished Meive was quick to see the same danger.
“The men, Todon and Belo. They have not returned.”
“Even so. Devol thought it may have been some treachery on my part. Or perhaps they had been slain on the trail. Either way, had they not returned the day you rescued me, he planned to move camp a good distance, then—” I hesitated and temporized my words. “Well, then they would have dealt ill with me.” Her glance said that she understood how ill that would have been. I did not doubt she knew. If she had not been here when her own dale died, at least she had come later. She would have seen the bodies as she laid them to rest.
“So there is no proof the men are not on their way back again. Paltendale may not have held them. They may well have been delayed some other way. But, Lorcan, would they be so eager to return to Devol?”
“Not eager, perhaps. But where else would men like those go? They had probably been bandits for several years, as I judged from their talk around me. As for all outlaws, there were times of want and times of plenty. But it is the fat times they remember. The joy of drinking, eating, and well, you can guess. They obey no laws, they have no lord. To them it is a life oft to be preferred despite the times of hardship. And the most effective bandits are those with numbers and some sort of leadership. That they had here.”
“So you believe if they live they will return?”
I nodded. “I do think so, and I fear it. They will return raging. Having found if they found aught, that I lied and there is no gold, no ransom. It may be worse. If they have found friends along the way they may return in strength. Then are we in great danger.” I had not been mistaken. There was steel in the core of my lady. She did not flinch from my words but looked thoughtful for some time. Then she spoke.
“At this time of the year the bees might be safely left many months. It moves to Summer, and if we placed the hives in the high pastures they would have nectar enough to gather until near fall. Thus we could take horse and ride.”
“Where?” I thought I knew, but this was her dale. To her the decision.
“To find those who would join us.”
I let out my breath. “I, too, would have chosen so. It is well. If that pair lead men here, we are not to be found. If they go to the camp, none are there.”
Meive chuckled. “They might flounder about these hills for a long time trying to find this dale, also. It was slain by the treachery of one who knew the paths. And there are ways to camouflage those, though of late they are so overgrown I think they need none. Let us set what we can in order here, then ride.”
“That is well. Now, where do you lead us?”
We had come towards the far end of the dale and Meive was walking the pony along a faint trail beaten into the grass. It appeared to stop at a stone outcropping where a small stream meandered past. Without speaking, Meive walked the pony into the shallow water and splashed upstream around the rim of the rock. Past that she turned her mount sharply and thrust him through a clump of brush growing between two boulders which pushed from a cliff-side.
I followed, wondering where we went until memory reminded me. The place where she had hidden the dale’s beasts. This must be it. Indeed, she had spoken only the truth. It was well hidden nor did I think any who looked about casually would easily find it I smiled. Likely it had first been found by a child, for children wander into odd places. Ahead of me Meive broke through into a small lush valley. I halted Tas at the entrance and scanned what I could see.
As she had said the area would have been some fifty acres. The sides sloped up abruptly, and while goats would have climbed them it was in my mind that goats, not being stupid, would stay within where there was good feed. Then, too, the steep sides had little grass growing and here and there I could see where small slides had been. The rock was unstable. No horse nor cow would even attempt them.
As for those animals, I saw then the team of which Meive had spoken and sucked in a breath of admiration. They had been stolen for certain. No bandit could have afforded to pay for such. There were six of them, large glossy-coated beasts wandering in their herd together. They were the rich chestnut of the Taradale strain, good and willing workers, sensible and with hard hooves that rarely gave way to hoof troubles. They were worth a daleslord’s ransom and somewhere some owner must have been lamenting greatly.
Beyond them, in their own larger group, grazed a number of riding mounts. None looked to be of wonderful quality, but all were healthy enough, fat and glossy-coated from the past three years of good food and no work. They would need to be moved once we returned. At least their numbers had not increased. If any were mares it had not mattered: the others were all geldings. I would look them over later. If any were mares and we could buy a good stallion, we could breed better foals. I would have to speak of that to Meive.
Meive had come riding back. “You were right. I found Cream, and she had a bull with her. She has also a yearling heifer and another calf at foot.” I laughed at the name. No doubt they had named the beast after the dales saying, that a life of cream and honey palled after a time. Meive laughed with me. It was good to see her face light up. I resolved that she should laugh more often.
I rode with her about the valley and studied the animals that lived here. The team we should keep, at least for a time. Later, perhaps; we could find whence they had been stolen and return them. If there were owners still living. If not, they should remain here. The cows we should keep also. There was enough pasture to let us graze the four, though further increase should be sold or traded.
The goat herd would have to be thinned. They are destructive
creatures, and unless we reduced their numbers they would have their pasture here eaten bare in another year or two. From Meive I knew there had been only a half-a-dozen when she left them. Now, I counted the moving forms. There were over thirty. At the very least they needed to be removed from here.
Meive, too, was counting. “Thirty-six. Lorcan, they’ll have the valley bare shortly.” I could see her calculating. “It must have been this last kidding. The kids from the first year I was gone have themselves become old enough to breed. This year’s crop was twice as large. They’ll ruin the pastures and if we are late returning we’ll find Cream and her calves and the horses with nothing left to eat here.”
“Then we move goats,” I said. “Let them roam about the main dale. If anyone finds it they’ll likely kill or steal a few of the goats. Better that than the cows or horses starve. Let us move the goats tomorrow. Tonight we find a place to sleep and make our plans.”
It was late that night before we slept. Long after dusk we sat watching the flames and talking of how we should accomplish our plans. In some things we disagreed, but never harshly. Meive might be no fine dales lady but she was quick, clever, and not unlearned. I was surprised at that.
“You read and figure? How so? It is an unusual skill for—” I broke off lest I offend her.
She smiled at me. “That I know. But our wise woman Ithia was learned as well as wise. All of Landale knew how to count, how to read and write numbers. Ithia taught me to read. She said it was important a wise woman know how to read recipes and write them down. Our lord agreed. It pleased him that we could be less easily cheated if we traveled to any market.”
“A wise lord,” I said approvingly. After that the talk turned to other concerns and at last we slept.
It took several days, but with hard work we had all of the goats moved into the main dale. At the mouth of the entrance to the inner valley I built the appearance of another landslide. It was not high. Just a mixture of tumbled rocks and a scattering of earth all laid cunningly over a frame of branches tied together. It would keep in any of the cattle or horses that might have wished to leave and it would further hide them and the inner valley. I transplanted shallow-rooted grasses to the earth covering. Within a few weeks they would settle, continuing to grow.
