I left the castle and circled back toward the temple courtyard. On my walk around the stable, I paused at the door. It was empty like every place else, no horses, no blankets, no reins. The bins were swept clean of feed, the dirt floor raked. All that was left here of the horses was a water trough, dark beneath the cracking film of ice, and the lingering odor of their warm bodies. Now I was so lonely I missed the horses.
“A girl afraid of horses,” Tarvik had said and laughed at me. Wherever they both were, Nance and Tarvik, I hoped they were far enough away to be safe. If we all survived Erlan, I needed to leave this country quickly because I was beginning to think of Nance and Tarvik as close friends. Oh sure, might as well imagine us all back in Mudflat and me saying, “Let me introduce you to my new friends, the barbarians.”
On the third night after the evacuation, I built my fire in the temple courtyard, ate my really boring supper which consisted of the last onion browned in oil and then simmered slowly until it was a pale imitation of onion soup. If Erlan didn't finish me off, my own cooking soon would. Then, as Lor had instructed me, I went to the castle. It stood on the highest ground. The thicket trees, a pleasant clump of tangled branches in the daylight, at night reached out like many-fingered hands. Where once hundreds of cook fires had dotted the surrounding hills and clouded the air with smoke, now the empty huts made shadow patches on the slopes. I am not brave and I am not an outdoor person, so what was I doing? Yeah, well, I’d been tossed into another world. It made me someone I hardly recognized.
I ran to the castle, hurried past the gates and turned to climb the narrow stone stairs that the guards used to mount the outer wall.
At the top, I stood slowly and did not look down. I never liked to stand at the edge of a high place with nothing to grasp. A balcony with a railing is okay. A cliff is not okay. The top of the wall was worse than a cliff. There was no place to step back or turn away. It was just wide enough to walk on, no more. I walked slowly, my feet feeling the way.
What I wanted to do was drop to my knees and crawl. To do so would be to tangle my hands and legs in my long cloak. That or drop the cloak and crawl in my short tunic. If I did that, I would soon be numbed by the cold stones. As I had done for the last three nights, I wound the cloak tightly around myself and shuffled slowly along the wall until I reached the far corner.
Once there, I stared into the darkness. And this night I saw what Lor had said I would see.
Where a far ridge broke its line in a shadowed valley, I saw the sign of some long gone river that had once cut its path through the hills and flatlands, then disappeared. It left its bed, now dry and cracked beneath hundreds of changing seasons, to form a hard road. In that place where the road widened, there was the flicker of night fires. Erlan's army. Lor had pointed out the spot and said it was about a day's march away. They would break camp at sunrise and reach the city before the next sunset.
I narrowed my eyes against the windy darkness and searched for another fire farther to the west.
CHAPTER 18
Two days earlier, a lifetime ago, Nance and Lor left me.
“We will be back before Erlan arrives,” Nance had cried, clinging to my hands. “Stargazer, come with us. You must not remain here alone.”
“Can’t. If Erlan returns to an empty city, he will trail Tarvik.”
“But how can you stop him by yourself? He will kill you, Stargazer!”
Tears had brimmed. In another moment she would have thrown her arms around me and refused to leave me. As much as I might prefer to let her drag me away with them, that wasn't a choice. Not to sound conceited, but the way things were, I was the last best chance for all those poor people to survive. No more than a chance but it was better than the odds without me.
Standing straight and looking down at her, my face stiff so she would not see my fear, I had said, “Think about it, Nance. Tarvik didn't harm me when he first found me. Neither did Kovat. I have secret magic, stuff I haven't shown you. I can make Erlan believe what I tell him. I'm okay here and you'll be back in time to help me save everyone else. Now go on, hurry.”
“But what if we are late?”
Lor had pulled tight the last strap, tying their supplies to the two horses. Without waiting for Nance to think up new arguments, he had grabbed her and lifted her onto Pacer.
While she bent away from us to straighten out the animal's reins, he had said, “I will light the signal where we agreed.”
“Lor, stay out of the city until after you see Erlan leave. If he stays or follows Tarvik, take Nance and escape.”
“She is safe with me.”
Of course she was. If our plan failed, he would take Nance higher into the mountains. Nance told me that was where he came from, up near the snow line, where his small tribe knew how to hide and remain beyond the reach of warring armies.
“Beyond Kovat's lands and so far toward sunset, even the elves don't go there,” was how she had put it. Okay, I accepted that without trying to understand.
Now I stared west toward the exact spot where the sun would set the next night beneath the hill. All I could see was shadow overflowing shadow.
As I headed back toward the temple, I began to doubt my scheme. At least Nance and Lor were out of it. I would delay Erlan as long as I could to allow Tarvik to reach a distant valley and set up some sort of defense. Beyond that, there wasn't much else I could do for them. The trick I planned seemed more and more hopeless to me. All trick, no magic.
If his approaching army had crossed routes with Ober's train, Erlan would know Tarvik knew their plans. Fat chance I'd have of conning the man.
In the temple courtyard I sat next to the fire and leaned forward with my face and hands stretched toward the flickering heat until I hypnotized myself into forgetting what was coming down. Curling up in a sheepskin, I slept fitfully until daybreak. When I woke I felt ill and feverish, not capable of controlling any situation.
If I were a barbarian I would have consoled myself with thoughts of an heroic death that would take me straight to the gods. Instead I know astronomy, and I know the sun is this big hot gas thing, but does that have to mean it isn't a god? How comforting it would be to believe death would release my soul to go live in some magic place above the clouds, no more unpaid bills, no more Decko brothers.
In the mountains the brilliant winter sky was free of city smoke. It exposed every empty hut and deserted path. I walked back and forth in front of the castle watching for a fire glint or a wisp of smoke.
Nothing. Nance and Lor had not returned in time. Just as well, I decided, because my plan was going to fail. This way they were out of it.
Okay, it was up to me to do a con job on old Erlan, make him fall on his ugly face in awe of my magical and priestly powers. Up to me. Last chance.
Nance herself couldn't have twisted my hair above my head with more care. I stood in front of the altar with the small mirror Nance left for me, glancing first at the wall painting and then at my reflection. I jabbed away with the pins and combs, unsure how Nance managed to make my hair stay put in a pile on my head, until my arms ached from keeping them raised so long.
Extra rubber bands would have been a godsend, a quickie route to a double pony tail or braids, easy to coil on the top of my head and pin into place. No matter what I did, tendrils always broke loose to fall across my face or down my neck.
The bank manager hated my hair, along with my clothes, thought they were too casual, too messy, and I resented that, but man, he never once considered beheading me. I didn't know back then how lucky I was.
Without gold threads or jewels, all carefully wrapped and carried off with the temple treasures, I had only my hair and paints to work with. If Erlan hated slipped tendrils, I was in big trouble. By the time I pinned the last strand into place, tears of frustration burned my eyelids. I blinked them away and bent over Nance's pots of shaded liquids and powders.
When I couldn't think of one more trick to make me resemble the portrait of the Daughte
r, I hid the paints and combs, left my wool cloak in Nance's chamber, pulled my velvet temple robe over my tunic, and returned to the outer gate to watch for Erlan. The afternoon sun shone back at itself from the metal trimmings on the advancing army.
They moved slowly, a walking pace of men burdened with heavy loads strapped to their backs. They would reach the city before sunset. Although I knew there was nothing to see, I peered once more toward the spot where Lor had said he would set his signal. Then I returned to the temple. If the planets offered me a choice, I had been unable to read it in my horoscope.
My only hope lay in Erlan's planets. At this time they offered him nothing. He would face this challenge and win or lose on his own decisions. He had neither Kovat's strength nor Tarvik's courage. Erlan was a superstitious man. I was counting on that, didn't know if it would be enough.
In the late afternoon when the procession reached the opposite ridge, the army slowed. Now I could see Erlan at the lead on Kovat's large horse, dressed in fur and leather, wearing a war helmet. Guards in tattered gear walked on each side of him. Even the horse looked exhausted. What did Erlan expect to meet? Did he think a parade, led by templekeepers and his wife and daughter would come out to greet him? I saw no sign of Ober riding near him, but she might be riding at the end of the line.
Erlan's men trudged up a nearby hill to search those tumbled down empty huts of wood and stone. They went slowly at first, peering into huts, entering, coming back out into the daylight and turning from side to side to search the yards between the huts.
After the first few searches they moved more quickly, hundreds of men spreading out across the hill, ducking through doorways, rushing back outside, gesturing widely. I could hear their shouts if not their words.
What they found everywhere was nothing.
Floors had been swept clean and every sign of goat or chicken was gone. No piles of firewood, no sheepskins. Only empty huts separated by dead vegetable patches and small twisted shrubs. Not that I had gone over to the lower hills and looked. I hadn't. I'd never been in one of those places. They weren't open to me when the families were in them, templekeepers didn't wander the city, and now they would be empty and spooky to walk through alone.
While the men delayed their return to look through every shack, I stood in the gate's shadow and studied them, noting the torn clothing, the marching boots worn to shreds, the small number of horses carrying supplies. Although the size of Erlan's army had dwindled, his was still a huge following to feed.
I hurried back to the temple, left open all the gates and doors, and lit the candles in the ceiling lamps. Their light barely touched the walls. The painted faces above the altar shone dimly in the shadows, the painted eyes luminous. I stood beneath the portraits, faced the door and waited. I did not wish Erlan to hurry, but if he took too long I could die of fear before he arrived. Or the candles might burn away to nothing but sputters of smoke.
Think. Think. Was there anything at all in his horoscope that I'd missed?
The confusion of arguing voices approached up the hill. They came slowly. I could hear the horses' hooves and the marching boots on the frozen path, moving in a patterned steady beat, then stopping. They shuffled in broken rhythms and spoke over one another. The march began again, louder, reached the leveled hilltop, stopped by the empty stables. Next they headed toward me.
My heartbeat doubled. The sound of boots outside the temple slowed, hesitated, took a lifetime to cross the courtyard. Walked into the temple.
Okay, time for my Oscar-winning performance.
Raising my arms toward Erlan as he paused in the doorway surrounded by his guards, I willed my knees to quit shaking and cried, “Welcome back, my lord Erlan. The Daughter of the Sun has foreseen your safe return.”
“You?”
He bent forward, squinting in the temple's shadows, his eyes still filled with late afternoon light. The pale, matted growth of hair on his face could not hide his surprise. He had a weak face behind the scars, with small eyes and large loose lips, but I knew the heavy body beneath the fur cape could move more quickly than the dull mind. His robes were mud-spattered. His boots were torn.
I chose my words. “It is I, keeper of the temple, priest of the Daughter of the Sun.”
“Where is the other one? Nance?”
“She is gone.”
I thought about adding a few “oh glorious ruler” phrases, but decided it might be overkill. He was not a believer in the Daughter, which was okay with me if I could make him a believer in the templekeeper.
“Gone? And Tarvik? And everyone else?”
“Gone. All of them gone.”
He rocked back, frowned, creased his brow. “My lady Ober and my daughter, where are they?”
Ah, so the stars had sent me a snitch of luck. Their paths had not crossed and she was not with him now to advise him. He didn't know Tarvik had banished her. So here he was, expecting the city to welcome his army with feasting. Until his men had time to search all the storerooms in the castle, he would presume he could replenish his supplies.
I said, “The lady Ober and your daughter and their servants returned to your own city, my lord. They thought your paths would cross.”
“They were to wait here for me.”
I nodded. “Their plans were changed.”
“Did Tarvik go with them?'
“No, they left before the fever began.”
“What fever?”
“The fever that killed so many.” No point explaining viruses, but I counted on a few historical references to work, couched in phrases from Nance’s chants. “There is death in this place. It is well your family left before the fever came. It leaves its traces everywhere to spread to anyone who enters here.”
Would he remove my head now or would curiosity slow him down?
His voice was a rumble of scratches and roughness. “Where is Tarvik and why are you still here?”
Should I mention plague, apocalypse? Or just tell him my headstone design preference?
I babbled on because when it comes to execution, delay is always good, and it might give Lor and Nance more time to get away.
“Tarvik led the living away to build funeral pyres for the dead. He hopes the fires will frighten the lifedrainers back to the mountains.”
“What are you talking about? What lifedrainers?”
“I know nothing but what I have seen and been told. They come from the western mountains. Is that true? They look like giant bats in the sky and it is they who brought the fever. Is it true they fear fire?”
“You have seen them?” He grabbed me by the shoulders and leaned so close the smell of him made my stomach go into a tight clutch.
Between gagging sounds I couldn’t control, I said, “Yes, several, with wide black wings.”
“Then why are you still here?”
“I am not of Tarvik's people. They left me behind to tend the temple.”
“Impossible!” he shrieked. “Tarvik is here, hidden somewhere! I will find him. This city is mine now!”
I widened my eyes and stared at him, then continued with Nance-approved phrases. “Do as you think wise, my lord. May your gods protect you from the fever. It is everywhere, in the city and in the hills.”
As he leaned even closer and his stench overwhelmed me, completely unplanned and at a major loss of dignity for me, the fried onions burned upward from my stomach and I doubled over and puked.
He roared an oath. After wiping my mouth with the hem of my robe, I stood up and tried to regain my balance. I felt myself sway with nausea. He grasped the hilt of his sword and swung it above his head.
There was no place to run. The temple walls imprisoned me. Beyond its doors his whole ragged army waited. It would have been overoptimistic to think they were too weak to finish off one templekeeper.
I stared at him, expecting the sword to swing toward me but unable to think what to do.
A guard ran into the temple. “My lord Erlan,” he shouted, “the far h
ill burns!”
CHAPTER 19
Erlan clamped my elbow, his rough fingers digging through my cloak. He marched out of the temple, dragging me behind him as though I had no more weight than an empty cape. His sword swung freely in his other hand, the blade edged blood red in the last rays of the sun.
He stopped and the gate, held me at arm's length and stared into the fiery west.
The arc of the setting sun rested on the ridge, streaking the sky scarlet. From the base of a hillside beyond the huts at the city's edge, in deep shadow, flames shot upward, hundreds of scrub trees burning like giant bonfires.
Lor and Nance. As we had planned, they had succeeded in soaking dry branches with oil, then stuffing them into the small scrub trees. Better yet, they had succeeded in hiding from Erlan's army, and had now returned to start the fires.
Next line in the script was mine. My throat was dry and hot from vomiting and lacked the deep dramatic tones I had practiced, but I managed to make my rasping really loud.
I shouted, “Funeral pyres!”
“Who lights them?”
I shrugged within his grasp. “Those who have not yet died. They burn the bodies to prevent the lifedrainers from stealing the souls.”
“What of Tarvik? Is he with them?” he shouted at me.
“I do not know if he is with the living or the dead.”
“He was dying?”
I was perfectly willing to lie to save the others, but I was unable to look at him and keep my voice steady. The problem wasn't honesty, it was my screaming nerves. His face was so close to mine, the furious eyes small glittering dots in the maze of scars, I couldn't think. What a time to forget my lines.
I fell back on chanting. “I pray the Daughter of the Sun chooses to spare him. And may the Sun guide the dying to his eternal home. May the Daughter gather their ghosts before the lifedrainers can steal them.”
Tyrant Trouble (Mudflat Magic) Page 22
