Knight Or Knave

by Andre Norton

  "She is shy to begin with, and now I think she is under orders."

  Rohan said. "If you will notice, the Dowager doesn't seem as pleased with me as she once was."

  "What have you done to deserve this?"

  "I don't know. Perhaps I have avoided her table too many times of late. Well, either I will repair my reputation in the Dowager's eyes, or I won't. I can only do my best."

  "As do we all," Cebastian replied.

  At least, Rohan thought as they entered the Great Hall together, I think I know now the reason the Dowager was trying to drug me that first night. Insisting that I pay attention to poor, sweet Anamara was definitely a second thought with her. Power, as Grandam Zaz has said, knows other Power when they meet. I think

  Ysa wanted to have me malleable in her hands so that her Magician-Sorceress could work her way with me, enlist my help with whatever it is that the Dowager has planned this time. The more Power at her disposal, the better.

  This also might explain Ysa's coolness toward him, that he had rebuffed

  Flavielle's advances and the Dowager knew of it. He only hoped that Anamara was not suffering because of Rohan's failure to fall in with the Dowager's scheming.

  However, if Rohan's speculations were correct, nothing in either the Dowager's or the Sorceress's attitudes indicated that this was the case. To the casual observer, Queen Ysa had merely turned her attention to another of the young nobles—Vinod of Vacaster—the way a good sovereign would, so that she might not be thought to be playing favorites.

  Rohan was not deceived, however. He caught a glance exchanged between the

  Dowager and Flavielle, and caught also the subtle nod in his direction. The back of his neck prickled in the way he had come to recognize as a sign that he had detected something other folk either could not, or which they chose to ignore.

  He resolved to be even more on his guard—only wishing he knew what he should be wary of.

  Days passed, full of activity, and the young nobles who had mistakenly thought themselves in good physical condition did, indeed, begin to toughen up. Rohan became aware of the presence of the guard who had accompanied Flavielle that evening when he had caught them going through his belongings. His appearance had changed, though. Gone was the Dowager's livery and, in its place, the plain fighting gear of a foot soldier of Rendel, worn by the instructors helping with the training of the men the young nobles had brought with them to Rendelsham.

  Rohan recognized that there was more to the man than had first appeared; he could be a hired tough, a cut above a street bully, or he could even be a kind of apprentice of the Sorceress. By a few discreet inquiries, he learned that the man's name was Duig and that he was presenting himself as one of Count Harous's soldiers with the rank of sergeant. Rohan noticed as well that Duig frequently had a few moments' quiet conversation with this one and that, and afterward there would be unpleasantness between two of the leaders of the Dowager's Levy.

  This seemed to happen with more frequency as the date of the Grand Tourney drew closer and, correspondingly, the great nobles of Rendel began to arrive in the city.

  Duig never indicated, by word or gesture, that he had ever seen Rohan before, let alone been apprehended in the very act of going through his belongings. And

  Rohan was careful to maintain the same air of indifference.

  It would have been easy to put the whole matter down to a fevered and overactive imagination, but one evening Cebastian, who had been Rohan's closest friend in

  Rendelsham, tried to pick a quarrel with him.

  Rohan was astonished. "And who told you that I was trying to keep you from being knighted, so that your rank would be inferior to mine?" he asked Cebastian.

  "One of the people who have been training us."

  "It wouldn't have been Duig, would it?"

  Cebastian looked startled. "How did you know?"

  Then Rohan told Cebastian of his suspicions, leaving out the part about the

  Sorceress and her offer of—of whatever it was Fla-vielle was actually trying to tempt him with. Cebastian's anger cooled visibly even as Rohan spoke.

  "Thank you, comrade," he said when Rohan had finished. "This casts a clear light on what has lately been a shadowy mystery. Now I understand better what has been going on of late. Jivon barely speaks to Steuart these days, and Jabez has quarreled openly with Reges. And with as little cause as, it turns out, I had to be angry with you."

  Rohan remembered what Grandam Zaz had told him—that Flavielle had plans that the

  Dowager knew nothing of, and that many of these plans centered about the Grand

  Tourney. "Could it be," he asked Cebastian, "that our good sergeant even encouraged you to report your grievance to the one who put you in charge of the

  Dowager's Levy? Did he not suggest that you complain to Gaurin when he arrives?"

  Cebastian gave him an odd look. "How did you know that?" he said.

  "Just call it a guess," Rohan said. "Now we know the basis of quite a bit of tension that is currently going on with those nobles who are already here. Duig is the Sorceress's creature and his assignment is to spread unrest."

  "Jakar of Vacaster is not speaking to Lord Royance. Whenever they pass each other, Jakar actually puts his hand to the hilt of his sword. And Lord Royance pointedly ignores him."

  Then it must be true, Rohan thought with a sinking feeling in his stomach, though it was beyond all rational belief. Just as Zazar had said, Flavielle was trying to foment a civil war, which was not only against the Dowager's best interests but also against those of Rendel itself! This could even result in

  Rendel's destruction before the horror to the North had even fully roused itself from its long sleep.

  The Grand Toumey was only a fortnight hence, and all the great nobles of Rendel were summoned to be present, even the ones who customarily stayed away from

  Court. Those living close by were already in residence. He longed for Gaurin and

  Ashen's arrival at the city. Surely when he could confer with them, he could find a way to foil this dreadful plot. He touched the amulet, still on its cord and hidden under his shirt, but got no measure of reassurance from its presence.

  Eighteen

  Two days later, to Rohan's immense relief, Gaurin and Ashen did arrive at

  Rendelsham, a little earlier than expected. Because of their rank, they were given lodgings even closer to the royal apartments than had been the suite of rooms occupied by Ashen and Obern. As soon as Rohan judged they had settled in, he paid a call on them.

  Ayfare had already put everything to rights with great competency. Gaurin and

  Ashen might have been living there for months, for all the traces of upset that a move from the Oakenkeep might be expected to create. Ashen hugged Rohan, and

  Gaurin clasped his hand warmly in greeting.

  "Oh, it is good to see you again!" Ashen said. Then she held him at arm's length. "But you're as hard-muscled as Gaurin isi What have they been doing to you?"

  "Training, Ashen," he replied. "Gaurin knows what is required for the making of a warrior."

  "Indeed, you look very fit. And what else has been transpiring, since we saw you last?"

  Quickly Rohan filled them in on his various discoveries. "I did not believe

  Grandam Zaz at first," he said. "But now I do. At least in most things. Though the Dowager may think she has the Sorceress to serve her purpose, it is plain to me that she has welcomed a traitor instead. I believe also that the Dowager does not know this, for, apparently, each now goes her own way."

  "Worse," Gaurin said, fingering the fanciful hilt of his Court sword. "This

  Flavielle may even be working for the Great Foulness to the North."

  "Such a possibility had occurred to me," Rohan admitted, "but I didn't want to think about it."

  "And you say that this sergeant, Duig, has counseled Cebastian to complain to me of you?"

  "Yes."

  "Then I suggest that you tel
l him to do so—or, at least, to appear to do so, and also to make certain that Duig knows of his action."

  "But sir, our aim is to unmask the Sorceress. How will such a course of action be to our service?"

  "All must appear as if this mysterious person's schemes are going as expected.

  Only then can we hope that she will make an error that we can exploit and thereby expose her for what she is." Gaurin took a deep breath. "Have you had any word from Madame Zazar?"

  "No, sir." Rohan touched the amulet he still wore, under his shirt. "Nor has this helped me find a direction. It is in this regard that I have come to question her Powers."

  "Let me see what you have there, please."

  Rohan slipped the silk cord over his neck and held it out to Gaurin. Made of silver, it was roughly oval in shape, the bottom wider than the top, and bore a design of waves crashing against the edges of the border of the amulet.

  Gaurin examined it and then gave it back. "It looks like something fit for a

  Sea-Rover's badge," he said. "But I feel no touch of magic about it."

  "Nevertheless, wear it," Ashen said. "The pierced stone that provided me with a veil of protection at times when I needed it had no feel of magic about it, either, until I said the words that evoked the spell."

  "Perhaps Grandam Zaz didn't know the words to this tune," Rohan said with a laugh, putting the bauble back around his neck.

  "Don't joke!" Ashen said. "Zazar always knows what she's doing, even if we don't."

  "Well, let us hope that she still does," Rohan said, only slightly abashed. "I have a feeling that our time for disclosing the Sorceress's evil plans is growing very, very short. We've got two occasions when we might move to thwart this woman's schemes. A few nights hence there is to be a feast celebrating the congregation of all the nobles of Rendel, and when the tourney is ended, there will be another feast to honor the victors."

  "While time remains, hope will also," Gaurin said seriously. "Now go and do as I told you and send Cebastian to me."

  With the arrival of Ashen and Gaurin, the seating arrangements at dinner that night were changed. Because of their rank, they would be placed at the high table and two of the young men would be sent down to the second table, with more of them being replaced with the arrival of each contingent of nobles. Joban and

  Reges were thus demoted, and they sat as far away from each other as possible.

  Their feud was, obviously, still hot.

  Ashen and Gaurin, as was customary, shared a platter and Rohan was placed next to them. She leaned over to address him. "Show me the girl," she ordered. "Point her out to me."

  "Girl? What girl?"

  Ashen smiled, but her eyes were not warm. "Of course there is a girl," she said.

  "There always is. Now, show her to me."

  "Well, I suppose you must mean Anamara," Rohan said. "There she is."

  Ashen raised her eyebrows. "Seated so low?"

  "She does not like large gatherings, or so she told me. So she hides in a crowd."

  "And yet you like her passing well."

  "I admit that I do. If she agrees, I will wear her favor in the tourney."

  Ashen shrugged. "And if she does not, then you may wear mine." Then she turned the talk to other matters, but Rohan noticed that she took full note of Anamara, even while the Sorceress was entertaining the assembled company.

  By the time the rest of the nobles from all over Rendel arrived for the welcoming feast, the former seating arrangements might as well never have existed. Now the youthful King, Peres, occupied the center of the high table, flanked by his mother and grandmother. The young nobles found themselves seated just below, which suited Rohan well enough but caused a few frowns from those like Vinod who had come to bask in Ysa's attentions. The evening's festivities were truly impressive, as they were meant to be, and every wall and table bore elaborate decorations.

  At Rannore's insistence, Ashen sat next to her, with Gaurin beside her. Perhaps it was only because of Gaurin's presence, but Ysa was cordial to Ashen, and to

  Rohan's relief no coldness on Ysa's part ruined the feast.

  Rohan found no opportunity to denounce the Sorceress then, even during the entertainment, nor in the days that followed. Never did he sense anything to indicate that the time was right, as Zazar had promised. His confidence in the

  Wysen-wyf, despite an occasional spark, was eroding badly. Despair set in and every time he tried to confide in Ashen or Gaurin, all they would do was reassure him to have faith in Zazar. And in her Power.

  Gaurin did start a fad among the nobles, however—those who still fancied themselves warriors. The next morning he joined the young soldiers of the

  Dowager's Levy, and with them trotted in full armor from Rendelsham Castle to

  Cragden Keep. There, he exercised with them, testing their mettle and their skill. Several of the other newcomers followed suit, though Rohan couldn't help noticing that many of them were red-faced and panting, grasping for jugs of wa-ter, while Gaurin scarcely seemed affected. Rohan was proud of the man who had assumed the role of foster father on his marriage to the woman who had assumed the role of foster mother.

  "You have come a long way," Gaurin told Rohan at the end of one of these practice bouts. "I might have to work to take you. Had you ever thought about fighting with sword and dagger together?"

  "My father used these weapons. But I daresay that he was much, much better than

  I."

  "That's his Rinbell sword, isn't it?"

  "Yes, sir." Rohan handed the weapon, edges carefully blunted with strips of soft lead, to Gaurin.

  "A very good piece of workmanship," Gaurin agreed, handing it back. "It will never bear the stain of dishonor."

  "So the tale goes among the Sea-Rovers. A Rinbell sword will fight only for one it accepts, and if dishonor threatens, will fall from its wielder's hand first, and refuse to fight for him at all. But that is only a legend. Many such are voiced against ancient weapons."

  Gaurin smiled. "Of course. Now, guard yourself."

  Under Gaurin's instruction, Rohan felt he had learned more in a few days about the subtleties of swordplay than he had in all the set-piece matches instructors like Sergeant Duig insisted upon. More castle-bound nobles, not wishing to be outdone by a Nordorn exile, joined the exercises. Even the Head of the Council,

  Lord Royance, did not scorn to seek a practice bout with Count Harous. He summoned the spirit of the burhawk that had always been his badge, and through skill if not endurance acquitted himself very well against the younger man.

  "We should have been doing this all along," Royance told Gaurin. "We must strive until strength departs and not depend entirely on our youth in the days to come." He smiled, indicating the belt around his middle. "I have taken it in one notch, and in another day or so could gird it up another. Like too many, I have grown slothful and idle."

  "Never you, sir," Gaurin said. "You set an example to all of us that is hard to follow."

  "I think I will have another event added, specifically for the senior nobility.

  And I will provide the prize myself."

  "May you win it," Gaurin said, with a salute to the older man.

  With a laugh, Lord Royance walked off and there was more than a trace of youthful swagger in his gait.

  "I think you are the good example," Rohan observed. "Getting these courtiers out of their velvet chairs and into the practice yard has given them something to do besides sit and nurse old grudges. Now we have what amounts to a truce among many who, only a day ago, were at each others' throats. It's better than anything I could have done with or without help." Unconsciously, he touched the amulet Zazar had given him.

  "You can rest assured that, with just a little time, this Sorceress would have found a way to turn this temporary truce to her advantage and start even more deadly blood feuds." Gaurin wiped his brow. "What events are you participating in?"

  "Only the showy one—the joust. There are those who
are much better at it than I, but that doesn't matter. If Ironfoot cooperates, I will get eliminated early.

  Then I will have that much more time to observe where the trouble spots are erupting, and hope to soothe them."

  Sergeant Duig was calling to the young leaders of the Dowager's Levy, so Gaurin slapped Rohan on the shoulder and sent him on his way. "He will be wanting to give you your final instructions for the morrow and your assignments in the lists. Keep your spirits up, and we will meet tonight in the Great Hall."

  Nineteen

  That evening, Rohan went in search of Anamara, instead of leaving her to the privacy she seemed to desire. He found her sitting at her accustomed table, placed much lower than what her rank as one of the Dowager's ladies entitled her to. She wore a cloak over her dress, with the hood pulled up as if to hide her face.