Mordant's Need

by Stephen R. Donaldson

  ‘My lady Queen,’ replied Geraden, ‘we still have a lot to tell you.’

  Just for a second, the Queen paused – not hesitating, but simply allowing the forces inside her time to come together. Then, surprisingly, she said, ‘Let it wait. Until dinner, perhaps. I have no time for it now.’

  At once, she clapped her hands twice, summoning a servant. Almost immediately, the servant who had brought the wine came into the room. Without a glance at her guests, she commanded, ‘Please conduct Geraden and the lady Terisa to their rooms. Supply them with bathwater and clean clothes. Announce dinner for them in an hour. Then bring the Fayle’s men to me.

  ‘Come, Torrent. We must prepare.’

  As the servant bowed, Queen Madin swept toward the door as regally as if she had an entire procession behind her.

  With a flustered look, Torrent jumped up and hurried after her mother.

  Geraden met Terisa’s gaze in quick apprehension; then he mustered his temerity to ask, demand, ‘My lady Queen, what’re you going to do?’

  Queen Madin paused in the doorway. ‘“Do,” Geraden? My husband and my home are besieged. One of my daughters has allied herself with Alends. Another – if she still lives – is embarked on a mad quest after a champion from another world. I will not be left out of such events. I am going to Orison.

  ‘I intend to be there in three days.’

  She left the room with Torrent nearly gasping in her wake.

  For a long moment, Terisa and Geraden stood where they were as if they expected the ceiling to collapse on them. Then she took hold of herself, made an effort to shake the surprise out of her head. To break the shock, she murmured, ‘Well, at least she’s going to let us have time for a bath and some food.’

  He snorted. ‘I should have guessed something like this would happen. I’ve known her long enough.

  ‘The truth is’ – he shrugged rather helplessly – ‘I’ve always liked her.’

  Terisa was quietly disturbed to find herself thinking of her own mother, who hadn’t resembled Queen Madin in any meaningful way. And she, Terisa, could so easily have become her mother’s image: passive and wan, all her passion kept secret. If Geraden hadn’t come for her—

  Slipping her arm like a promise through his, she accompanied him out of the sitting room.

  Dinner at the long table in the formal dining room of Vale House was an odd experience.

  An abundance of candles made the ornaments and paneling glitter. There was a deep rug underfoot, thick cushions on the chairs. The food was good, better than anything Terisa and Geraden had eaten for quite a while; the wine was almost equal to the food. And the sensation of being clean again from head to toe, of being wrapped in clean clothes, of having a clean bed to look forward to, was so luxurious that it seemed practically indecent.

  In addition, Torrent was fascinated by the personal side of Terisa and Geraden’s story. Before she finished her soup, she was so caught up in what she heard that she forgot to be shy. She was indignant at Master Eremis’ manipulations, horrified by Master Quillon’s murder. Terisa’s repeated rescues from Gart thrilled her. She grieved for Castellan Lebbick, and yet couldn’t refrain from shuddering at the things the Castellan had done to Terisa. Artagel’s injuries and Nyle’s unhappiness touched her heart. The discovery of talent in her guests filled her with wonder. She heard about the destruction of Houseldon and the danger to Sternwall with parted lips and flushed cheeks.

  Unwittingly, unself-consciously, she helped make the meal as pleasant as possible for her guests.

  It was Queen Madin who provided the occasion with its oddness. She didn’t appear to hear a word either Terisa or Geraden said.

  She wasn’t vague or befuddled: she was simply absent. Her attention was so sharply focused elsewhere that she had none to spare for such comparative details as Master Eremis’ mendacity or Castellan Lebbick’s accumulated distress.

  As a result, neither Geraden nor Terisa was able to relax. Unexpectedly, she found herself thinking that the Queen was rather an old woman to attempt something as arduous as a wild ride to Orison. So she resolved to speak to Torrent privately after supper, to ask whether there was anything Torrent could do to dissuade the Queen.

  Unfortunately, when Queen Madin announced the end of dinner she took Torrent with her at once. Instead of saying good night, she informed her guests that the men who had brought them here would procure a team of horses from Romish, ‘So that we need not stop too often on the road. We will depart as soon as the mounts are able to see their footing.’ Then she led Torrent away.

  Terisa returned with Geraden to her room, troubled by the sense that this visit to the Queen wasn’t producing the results she had intended. Whatever those were.

  When they were alone, she asked him, ‘Is this a good idea?’

  ‘What?’ he replied disingenuously, ‘this rush to reach Orison in only three days?’

  She poked his shoulder to get his attention. ‘Of course, you idiot. What else did you think I was talking about? Isn’t she a little old to try something like that?’

  He snickered. ‘You tell her she’s too old – if you’ve got the nerve.’ Before Terisa could poke him again, however, he tried to give her a serious answer. ‘It isn’t the ride I’m worried about. Either she can do it or she can’t. Either way, it’s out of our hands. What I’m worried about is the siege. Prince Kragen and his ten thousand Alends. Or, worse yet, High King Festten and twice that many Cadwals.

  ‘How does she propose to get past them into Orison? Assuming it hasn’t already been taken. When they find out who she is, they aren’t exactly going to step aside for her. She’s the perfect hostage. King Joyse may have been able to turn his back on the Perdon. He may have been able to swallow what happened to the Tor’s son. He may even have been able to let Myste and Elega go. But he is not’ – Geraden said the words distinctly, like drum beats – ‘going to be able to sit still when someone like the High King threatens his wife.

  ‘She’s the only weapon Alend or Cadwal needs to beat him.’

  At the thought, Terisa’s stomach turned over. ‘Oh, good,’ she muttered. ‘I’m so glad you told me that.’

  ‘Sleep well,’ he replied with a malicious grin and rolled away from her.

  She had to poke him several times to get him back where he belonged.

  For a variety of reasons, neither of them slept much. Long before dawn, they got up, got dressed, and went to help with the preparations for the road.

  Outside the protective stone of the manor, the air seemed colder than it had for several days. Even in the gray light before the sun came up, the day had an almost prescient clarity, a dimension of visual precision which made Terisa shiver. She hugged the half cloak the Termigan had given her around her shoulders and tried not to think about how tired she was.

  The boards of the porch creaked under her feet.

  From the porch of Vale House, the hills which enfolded the Kolted River appeared to bulk larger than they had the previous evening. They were dark in the dim forecasting of dawn, deep with potential; the whole world lay beyond them, completely hidden. They reminded her that Vale House would be easy to ambush.

  On the other hand, an ambush didn’t seem very likely at the moment. Even self-respecting villains and traitors were still in bed at this hour. And the Fayle’s two men were already there, along with a groom they had brought from Romish to care for the horses and a servant to look after the needs of the ladies Queen Madin and Torrent. As for the horses—

  There must have been sixteen or seventeen of them, filling the hollow between the manor and the river. Terisa’s and Geraden’s mounts. Horses for the four men and the two ladies. A pack animal to carry supplies. And a second mount for everyone, so that the horses could be rested while the Queen kept moving.

  They shuffled their hooves, shook their manes; two or three of them snorted disconsolately. Their tack jangled softly, muffled by leather. The groom moved among them, settling the saddles of the
ones that would be ridden first, cinching up their girths. Queen Madin’s servant was busy checking the contents of his packs again.

  Because she was cold and had to do something, Terisa asked Geraden, ‘Do you think we should try to stop her?’

  He shrugged; the dimness hid his expression. ‘I’ll try. But don’t get your hopes up.’

  The sky spanning the hills grew to the color of mother-of-pearl, but without that nacreous flatness: it was at once deep and impenetrable. If anything, the approach of dawn made the hills darker; they clenched themselves around the river and Vale House, brooding. Nevertheless a stretch of water near the bend of the hills caught the air’s reflection and gleamed silver.

  Terisa wished that she could stop shivering.

  After a moment, Queen Madin came out onto the porch with Torrent beside her. The light was improving: Terisa saw that both ladies were wrapped in warm cloaks; riding boots protected their feet and calves; they had scarves bound around their heads to keep their hair out of their faces.

  ‘Are we ready?’ the Queen asked anyone who could answer her. ‘Can we go?’

  ‘In a moment, my lady Queen,’ replied the groom. He was busy inspecting the hooves of the horses.

  Geraden cleared his throat. ‘My lady Queen, are you sure this is wise? I have qualms about it.’

  ‘Geraden’ – Queen Madin wasn’t looking at him; her gaze was fixed on the sharp outline of the hills – ‘you underestimate me if you think that any “qualms” of yours will stand between me and my husband.’

  He let a little sharpness into his voice. ‘Maybe you underestimate me, my lady Queen. You don’t know what my qualms are.’

  ‘Do I not?’ She still didn’t look at him. ‘You are concerned that I may fall hostage to the forces besieging Orison.’

  ‘Yes,’ he admitted. His tone told Terisa that he felt rather foolish.

  ‘That is an important concern. I have no intention of allowing any Alend or Cadwal to use me against the King.’ She paused, then said, ‘It will be your duty to help me insure that the difficulty does not arise.’

  ‘Yes, my lady Queen,’ Geraden murmured glumly.

  Terisa put her hand on his arm and gave him a small squeeze of consolation.

  ‘Now, my lady Queen,’ the groom announced over the champing and rustling of the horses. ‘You can mount whenever you wish.’

  Torrent gave a stifled gasp. ‘A moment,’ she said quickly. ‘I have forgotten something.’ Before anyone could react, she hurried back into the manor.

  Softly, so that no one except Terisa and Geraden heard her, the Queen breathed, ‘Probably one of her dolls. She does not like to sleep without her dolls.’ Her tone was affectionate, but it suggested that she didn’t know how she had managed to produce a daughter like Torrent.

  It was astonishing how distinct everything was to Terisa. Every one of the hills across the river had a particular shape, an individual character. Each of the mounts was facing in a different direction, stubbornly determined to see life from its own angle. Geraden held his head up as if he had caught some of the Queen’s mood. Queen Madin herself was a knot of controlled impatience. The groom and the servant waited. The Fayle’s men had begun to move toward the porch in order to help the ladies mount.

  And a touch of cold as thin as a feather and as sharp as steel slid straight through the center of her abdomen.

  ‘Geraden!’ she shouted, almost wailed because her desperation was so sudden. ‘There’s a translation coming!’

  As if she and Geraden had the same mind, the same will, they grabbed Queen Madin by her arms, one on each side, and practically flung her off the porch, down the steps, out among the abruptly milling horses.

  Terisa had time to hear one of the men curse as if a horse had kicked him. She registered the Queen’s quick gasp of surprise, her swift self-command. She felt rather than saw the tethered mounts twist their heavy bodies around her, blunder against each other, stumble, start to panic.

  Then she turned in time to see a fall of rock appear out of the empty sky and crash down on the roof of Vale House.

  A fall of rock as massive as an avalanche. A few heavy, bounding stones hit, followed instantly by rushing thunder, the side of a mountain coming down.

  The slates and beams of the roof couldn’t hold, couldn’t begin to think of holding. Almost without transition, the whole attic storey of the manor buckled and collapsed, plunging down into the level where the bedrooms were.

  ‘Torrent!’ cried Queen Madin. Without thinking, she twisted against Terisa and Geraden’s grasp, tried to run back into the house. ‘Torrent!’

  Terisa helped Geraden drag the Queen backward.

  A frightened horse hit them with its hindquarters and knocked them all off balance.

  The rockfall went on with a sound as if the hills themselves had begun to rumble and break. The bedroom level of the manor held until too many tons of rubble piled into it; then, one room at a time, it crumbled toward the ground floor.

  Bouncing like balls, huge rocks came off the pile into the hollow. A horse screamed horribly; others squealed, wheeling in wild circles. They were tethered, had no way to escape. Behind Terisa, the groom was trampled to death. She didn’t know how any of the stones missed her. The rockfall and the horses made so much noise that she couldn’t hear any of the stones splash into the river; couldn’t hear any cries, commands, any warnings.

  Slowly, almost one stone at a time, the avalanche thinned. The rush of rock turned to scree and gravel, loose dirt.

  Terisa stared in shock as the thunder subsided and huge clouds of dust swelled into the dawn.

  The fact that she wasn’t moving nearly got her killed.

  There were men on horseback in the middle of the chaos, at least half a dozen of them. They lashed their beasts among the tethered mounts.

  One of them clubbed Geraden to the ground; he never knew they were coming. Another knocked Terisa into a swirl of panic-stricken hooves.

  And yet somehow, before she covered her head and curled into a ball to protect herself from being stamped on and broken, she had time to see three men leap from their mounts and snatch up the Queen.

  She had time to see that they were armed and armored just like the men of Prince Kragen’s army.

  They were Alends.

  Then hooves danced on all sides of her, thudded the dirt, hammered at her life, and she couldn’t do anything except cling to herself and clench her eyes shut until the horses either killed her or backed away.

  They backed away. Geraden was on his feet: he yelled at the horses, slapped at them until they retreated. At once, he reached down and pulled her to her feet.

  ‘The Queen!’ he panted as if he had broken something in his chest. ‘What happened to the Queen?’

  At the same time, another woman cried from the bottom of her heart, ‘Mother? Mother!’

  Staggering, Terisa turned; she dragged Geraden with her.

  Torrent stood amid the ruins of the porch as if she had never been touched. Her arms were locked and rigid at her sides; one of her hands clutched a knife. She didn’t look down into the hollow, at the horses, down at Terisa and Geraden; her face was lifted to the sky.

  ‘Mother!’

  Terisa stumbled in that direction, out of the confusion of horses, trying to reach the Queen’s daughter before Torrent went mad. With Geraden behind her, she clambered among the splintered and canting remains of the porch.

  ‘She wasn’t killed!’ she answered Torrent’s wail, shouting to make herself heard over the memory of thunder. ‘They took her! She’s been kidnapped!’

  Master Eremis had sprung another of his imponderable traps. But this one changed everything. Alends—! He was in league with Alends? As well as Gart and the High King? What in the name of heaven was going on?

  Terisa’s shout snapped Torrent’s head down, brought her frantic gaze out of the sky to Terisa’s face.

  ‘What?’

  And Geraden demanded fiercely, ‘What?
Kidnapped?’

  ‘Soldiers came.’ Terisa could hardly distinguish between her own voice and the long, deep rumble echoing inside her. ‘Alend soldiers. They took her. That’s why this happened. So they would have a chance to take her.’

  ‘Alend soldiers?’ Geraden began to snarl uncharacteristic obscenities, ones Terisa had never heard him use before.

  ‘Why?’ Torrent asked softly, as if she were being split apart.

  ‘Because she’s so important!’ Geraden rasped at once. ‘King Joyse will do anything to save her. He’ll surrender Orison and the Congery and every one of us to save her.’

  Slowly, Torrent raised her knife, stared at it. ‘It’s my fault.’ Terisa was amazed that Torrent wasn’t weeping. The Queen’s daughter sounded like she was weeping. ‘I wanted to take a knife. So I could help defend us. Elega would have been ready for that. Myste would have been ready. But I forgot. I ran to the kitchen.’ She turned the blade from side to side as if she had the idea of stabbing herself. ‘If I’d been with her – if I hadn’t forgotten – I could have saved her. I could have tried to save her.’

  There was no doubt about it in Terisa’s mind: Torrent was going mad.

  If she had gone to her bedroom, as her mother had expected, instead of to the kitchen, she would have been killed almost instantly.

  ‘No!’ Terisa replied as loudly as she could, trying to convey conviction through her mounting sense of horror. ‘None of us could have saved her. They took us by surprise. The horses caused too much confusion. The men—’

  Abruptly, she pivoted away to see what had happened to the groom, the servant, the Fayle’s men.

  The dawn was brighter now: it didn’t raise much color, but it showed everything clearly.