With a sigh, Hurst dismounted. Whatever tale Tanist had to tell, he felt it was only right that the Warlord should hear it too. It seemed like fate that he was there at just the right moment. So he draped the reins over a bush and walked forward towards the Warlord. Before he could say anything, there was a squeak from one of the Warlord’s minions, and someone shot out from behind the bushes and ran towards him, riding scarf slipping off. And then—
“Hurst! Hurst!” she cried and hurled herself into his arms.
“Mia? Mia! Oh my sweet Mia!” And there she was, laughing and crying and kissing him, arms tight around his neck. He could hardly believe it, it was so unexpected. He kissed her again and again, and then she pulled away from him.
“Oh, the beard!” she laughed, stroking it, and at the same moment he said, “Your hair!” And they kissed again.
“Are you all right?” he whispered to her.
“Fine. And you?”
He nodded. Then he remembered the Warlord.
“Thank you for bringing her back to me,” he said.
The Warlord bowed stiffly in acknowledgement. “Now you have a difficult decision to make,” he said, his face expressionless. “You can stay here and keep Mia, for as long as you remain Commander, or you can return to your own world and leave her behind. For she can never go back.”
37: Blanket (Mia)
Mia was too overjoyed to take it all in. She had fretted the whole way south, wondering what the new Commander would be like and why Dethin wanted her to meet him, and the sudden realisation was overwhelming. And not only was Hurst there, but Tanist and Bernast, too, with vast numbers of Skirmishers. What was going on? It was bewildering.
As they went for their horses, she found herself beside Dethin, a little apart from the others.
“Why didn’t you tell me it was Hurst?” she whispered.
“Because you would have assumed things – that everything would go back to normal. And also—” He stopped, and looked her in the eye. “For selfish reasons. I wanted a little more time with you.”
They rode into the Karningers’ camp, where pavilions and smaller tents were being set up, cook fires had been started and the organised bustle of settlement was under way. Dethin sent a pair of runners to the compound to summon all the Captains, but only Gantor, Walst, Trimon and Ainsley turned up, and his own men chose the safety of the compound too. Most warriors were uncomfortable with the idea of getting familiar with the enemy.
Hilligor’s pavilion was already fitted with rugs, tables, chairs and cupboards in one large room, with hangings to create smaller rooms to one side. In no time they were seated around a brazier, with platters of fruit and cheese on the tables, and goblets of wine handed round on trays.
Mia was the first to tell her tale, and the Karningers listened intently as she described waking in the funeral tower, her illness and then her weeks with Dethin. She glossed over the details, but still they eyed him covertly as she talked, while he sat as immobile as stone.
“And did they abuse you?” Tanist said softly when she finished, glancing again at Dethin.
“No one hurt me,” she replied. “I’ve been treated very gently.”
“But you slept with him,” Hurst blurted out.
“Yes. That’s how things work here. If not Dethin, it would have been someone else.” She could see him about to say more, but she held up a hand. “No – don’t, Hurst. This isn’t the Karningplain, it’s a different life here. I’ve had to adapt to it, everyone has to. Women are treated very fairly here, but there are certain conditions, that’s all. There’s no more to be said. Tell us your story, for I should very much like to know how you ended up here, as Commander.”
So Hurst told of the journey trapped down the tunnels, escaping in triumph only to be scooped into the compound and sent straight off to battle, and then the fight with Bulraney.
“So you’re in charge here?” Bernast asked, his eyes wide with amazement.
“Yes, this Section, anyway. Dethin here is the Warlord, he’s in overall charge of all the Sections on the eastern side.”
“Well, trust you!” said Tanist, smiling, his eyes crinkling at the corners just as Hurst’s did. “I wasn’t sure you’d be here at all, despite Mannigor meeting you on the battlefield like that, but to find you so settled…”
“But you’ll come home now – won’t you?” said Bernast.
Hurst glanced across at Dethin, sitting silent and inscrutable, his wine untouched. “Not sure exactly. There’s a lot to consider.”
Mia knew that he was thinking about what Dethin had said, that she could never go home. She was marked, after all, permanently exiled, while Hurst could come and go as he pleased. Did she want him to stay just for her? Maybe not, but could she bear him to leave just when she had found him again? He sat beside her, and she kept glancing sideways at him, still unsure if this were really happening or whether it was all a dream.
Then Tanist told them his story, of how he had turned up at the Karninghold to mourn Mia only to find Hurst and his Companions gone and the whole place in uproar, awash with rumour.
“Hemmond found me, of course, and told me what had really happened.”
“Is he all right?” Gantor asked. “We were concerned about him.”
“The Slave was going to put him under the smoke,” said Tanist. Mia shuddered. There were many tales told of the smoke that induced those affected to tell the truth, none of them good. “So he fled to kin, and managed to get word to me when I arrived. He’s with us now, somewhere about the camp. Well, I’m not afraid of the Karninghold Slave, so I persuaded him to tell us what had happened to Mia. She was making enquiries about these blasted tunnels and the funeral towers, apparently, and refused to be deterred, so they held an investigation—”
“What!” cried Mia. “There was no investigation! No one asked me anything!”
“It was a private investigation, apparently,” said Tanist grimly. “As far as I can make out, it consisted of the Slave sending a single message to the Ring, where someone determined you were guilty of subordination or rebellion or treason or some such nonsense, and condemned you to death.”
“By the Gods!” said Hurst. “What kind of justice is that?”
“Slave justice,” Gantor said sharply. “They have the power of life and death over us all. But I’d like to know how you persuaded the Slave to tell you all this. He’s a tight-lipped old bastard, they all are.”
“I held a knife to his throat,” grinned Tanist. “Very effective.”
Gantor barked with laughter. “See, I told you we should have tortured him,” he said to Hurst. “You should have let me.”
“Anyway, I talked to Bernast,” Tanist went on, “and he was at a loose end with you gone and no skirmishes, so he had the very apt thought to run an invasion exercise, and he kindly invited me along as an advisor. We took a Hundred of his, and a Hundred of yours, Hurst, and marched for the border, following you.”
“How did you know which way to go?” Gantor asked.
“Ah, now that’s the clever part,” he said smugly. “We had a look at these tunnels – Hemmond showed us where you went in – and we realised pretty quickly how the one-way gates worked. You were obviously being forced in one direction. So we got the detailed maps and found all the Godstowers, and marked what we thought was the route you had taken. Then there was a junction, so we guessed there, but every once in a while we popped down a Godstower to check, and there were your chalk marks on the wall, so we knew we were on the right track.”
“Ha! I knew the chalk would be useful,” said Hurst, grinning. He was leaning forward on his elbows, listening eagerly to his father’s words, and Mia thought that, apart from the beard, he actually looked rather well. He had lost a little weight perhaps, and was more burned by the sun than before, but he looked very fit.
“So then we got to Cassinor’s Karning, which was as lively as a flattened moundrat tower, with the fort half burned and a lot of surprise that Hurs
t Arrakas had suddenly become a barbarian, if a rather magnanimous one.”
“I’m sorry about the fire,” Hurst said to Hilligor, spreading his hands. “But you were tossing fire arrows at us, you know, and it was such a temptation.”
“And you had your champion archer with you,” said Hilligor, nodding across at Trimon. “Spectacular shooting, that was. But your generous treatment of Mannigor and Draylinor ensured there would be no reprisals for it. You could have killed both of them on the battlefield, we realise that. Draylinor sends his regards – he’s recovering well. He’ll have no more than a minor limp, in time, and you’re living proof that’s no hindrance.”
“So the question now,” said Tanist, “is what next? Now that we’ve found you, what are you going to do?”
Hurst grinned at him. “Right now I’m going to go back to the compound, reassure everyone that you’re not here to slaughter us all and have some food. Yes, yes, I know you could feed us, but not tonight. Then I shall sleep on it, and we’ll talk again in the morning.”
He stood and there was a general chatter as everyone began to move towards the entrance.
“And what about Mia?” Dethin said. It was the first time he had spoken, Mia realised, and his voice was low, but nevertheless silence fell and they all turned to him.
“Mia will come back with me, of course,” Hurst said, then, suddenly unsure, he turned to her. “Won’t you?”
Before she could reply, Walst said, “And where will she sleep?”
“With me, of course, she’s – oh!”
“Yes, what about Mallissa?” Walst said.
“Oh-ho, so who’s Mallissa?” said Tanist, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Has the bereaved husband been consoling himself?”
“It’s not like that!” said Hurst in obvious embarrassment. “I inherited her from Bulraney, that’s all. But I can’t just throw her out.”
“Well, Mia can stay here, if you like,” said Tanist. “Just until you’ve decided what to do.”
“I’ll look after her,” put in Bernast. “After all, she’s my wife too.”
Walst and Trimon burst out laughing, but Hurst looked annoyed and began to protest.
“She could stay with me for the time being,” Dethin interrupted in his quiet way, and they laughed again.
“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Hurst said, turning on him. “But she’s my wife, not yours…”
“I’m nobody’s wife!” Mia said sharply. “There are no husbands and wives here.”
“Is that what he told you?” Hurst growled, waving a hand towards Dethin. “Before or after he raped you?”
Sudden silence blanketed them.
“You’re being very melodramatic, Hurst,” she said calmly. “No one raped me. But things are different here. There are no husbands and wives, and whatever the situation before, it doesn’t apply now. I’m not a Karninger any more, I’m a barbarian and I have to follow barbarian rules. At the moment, I belong to Dethin, and I think this Mallissa belongs to you.”
“If you imagine I’m going to meekly go back to Mallissa and let you go off to sleep with – with him,” and he waved his arm at Dethin, “then you’re very much mistaken. I came all this way to find you, and now that I have, I intend to keep you.”
“Perhaps we could share her?” Dethin said. Mia knew him well enough to detect the slight quirk of amusement in his face, but Hurst balled his fists and glared at him as if he wanted to hit him.
“Perhaps we should go and find Jonnor?” said Gantor innocently. “For surely he has a say in the matter too.”
“Oh, by the Nine!” Tanist said impatiently. “This is like a gathering of kishorn. Hurst, I think you’re right to go back and see to your men. They must be wondering what’s going on. All of you barbarians should go, I think, and those from inside the border should stay here. We all want to avoid any misunderstandings, I’m sure. However, if you and your Warlord permit, I should like to come with you, to spend the evening with you. I came all this way to find you, if you remember. And if you can’t reach a civil agreement over Mia, I shall bring her back here with me tonight and neither of you will have her.”
Dethin laughed for the first time then, and Mia noticed again how much younger and less intimidating he looked with a smile on his lips and his eyes crinkled with genuine amusement. But Hurst just glowered.
~~~
In the end, Tanist took one of his Companions with him, a man called Groonerst, who was even more taciturn than Dethin, although they tactfully left their swords behind. Together with Hurst and his group and Dethin and his men, they rode slowly back to the compound, so as not to create any alarm, and Ainsley and Walst rode on ahead to warn the gatekeepers. There was some grumbling about bringing the enemy inside the walls, and Heddizan refused to allow any relaxation of battle status with so many Skirmishers camped not a mile away, but most were relieved to hear that it was only Hurst’s father on the doorstep and that he was not bent on war.
The kitchen staff were extricated from the tunnels to cook the supper, although it was very late in arriving. Fortunately, Hilligor had sent a string of pack horses laden with wine and ale and fruit and sweets and some smoked pork and venison, so no one was much bothered. In fact the canteen got so raucous that after they had eaten Hurst led his party away and up the many stairs to his office.
It was strange, Mia thought, to look out of the windows and see the numerous twinkling torches and cook fires of the camp spread out on the plains not far away. How threatening they must have seemed – must still seem – to those who saw them only as the enemy. Yet here they were, Hurst and his three Companions, Tanist and his one, herself and Dethin – weren’t they all the same, after all? There was no real difference between them, those who lived their lives with the Gods’ approval, and those who were marked and lived in exile. Yet regularly they divided themselves into Karningers and barbarians, and did their level best to kill each other.
Over Hilligor’s good wine, and a big box of marzipan sweets, they mulled over this and that and neatly avoided the issue which Hurst and Dethin had argued over, and which Mia herself would be happy to have settled. Was she still with Dethin? She thought she was, unless there was some formal agreement to the contrary. Hurst still saw her as his wife, but she knew it was not so simple. He had no claim on her now that she was officially dead, and she understood enough of barbarian ways to know that he would have to negotiate a trade for her. And what about this Mallissa, who was with Hurst?
While they talked, she sipped her wine and watched both men. Hurst was upset, she could see. He had been so happy to see her, and now he was realising that he couldn’t simply take her back. And Dethin – he was quiet, as always, perhaps not entirely comfortable in this company. He answered any questions put to him, but he volunteered nothing. And in between times, he watched her constantly, his dark eyes fixed on her. When he caught her glancing at him, he gave her a tiny little smile, but he never looked away.
As the conversation swirled around her, she tried to work out her own feelings. She loved Hurst, there was no longer any doubt of that, but he was a Karningholder, and his place was back at his Karning. If she became his and then he left, the next Commander would inherit her, just as he had inherited Mallissa. It was very uncertain. Until Hurst decided what he would do, she was reluctant to belong to him officially.
As for Dethin, there was no love on her side and she had not quite overcome her fear of his moods, but he had always treated her kindly and at least he would stay. There was security in that. They both wanted her, though, she knew that. She wished there was some way she could satisfy both of them, at least until Hurst’s plans were settled. Dethin had joked about them sharing her, but there was merit in that. And the glimmering of an idea came to her.
“Well,” said Tanist eventually. “I will go back to the camp while the moon is still up, so you two kishorn had better sort out which of you is to have Mia tonight, or else she comes back with me.”
; Hurst sighed, but Dethin was expressionless.
“It’s late,” he said, “and it’s been a trying day for all of us. I propose that Mia stays with me for now, until you have formalised your plans, Commander.”
“We could swap,” Hurst suggested. “I’ll take Mia, you have Mallissa.”
“Hardly a fair trade.”
“Oh, are you going to haggle over her like market wives?” said Tanist acidly. “Enough!”
Mia stood up, and they all turned to look at her. “I have a suggestion. Let Mallissa have your bed, Hurst, and the three of us will share Dethin’s bed.”
For a moment the room was so still she thought everyone had stopped breathing. Then Tanist burst out laughing.
“Mia, you are the most astonishing woman! Where do you get these ideas from?”
“It’s hardly original. It’s what the Old Ones used to do. Two brothers would build their klava – like a large tent – and furnish it, and set it up in a choice location at the autumn camp. And the unmarried women would come and inspect it, and if one of them liked the look of the klava and the brothers, she would sit on the blanket beside the fire and then she became their wife. All three of them would sleep on the same blanket at night, the woman in the middle, the two men either side. When the first baby came along, she would move across to the other side of the fire with the baby, and a younger sister would become the second wife. That’s where the whole idea of two husbands and two wives first came from. Some of the Petty Kings tried to stamp the practice out, but we still have it now.”
“Except the part about sleeping on the same blanket,” said Tanist, smiling.
“True, but originally the bedroom floor in a Karninghold was just one big open space, and even now it has no doors. We’ve complicated things, but the principle is the same.”
“Are you serious about this, Mia?” Tanist asked. “I can see this going horribly wrong, you know.”
“I’m perfectly serious. I know what these two kishorn need, and this way they both get it.”
The Plains of Kallanash Page 39
