I took deep breath. “Your pardon. I was ... unnerved.” As quickly as I might, I took my leave, retreated to my chamber. I called for water, immersed myself in a warm bath. I soaked, knowing I’d made myself a fool in the eyes of vassals. For that, too, I could blame Mar. Always, he had a hand in my undoing.
I ought think of else. No, I didn’t want to think of else. Truth was, I was consumed by my anger. And more: anger, fear and loathing.
But why now? For months after he killed Rust, and months again, I’d been able to go about my affairs, not obsessed with but one desire. Why was I now beside myself?
Because Mar was here. We shared a roof, dined from the same larder. Easily fixed, except that Rustin had barred the way. I couldn’t kill him, couldn’t put him to torment, couldn’t exact revenge for an iota of the misery he’d inflicted. Well, actually I could, but the broken vow would cost me the Still.
Rust made me forswear knife, fire, rope ... a lingering drowning would satisfy, but I couldn’t share a room with him, nor send another to do my bidding, nor for that matter, touch him or cause him to be touched.
No, Rust knew me too well. He’d foreclosed every means by which I might exact what was due. I sat in the chilling water, ruing lost opportunities. Rust had fenced every pasture, sealed off every trail. I stared at nothing, and stiffened.
All save one.
Pardos fell in alongside me, glanced at my still-damp hair. “Where to, my lord?”
“I go alone.”
“In Verein you’re not well loved. What’s that you carry?”
I held out my palm, he stopped short, so as not to run into it. “Your lord Tantroth roams his hills. Rustin is on patrol. There’s none to gainsay me. I command you: await me at my chamber.” I left him in the anteroom.
One great room gave onto another. At last, in a far nook, the chamber I sought. Three well-armed guards, two lounging on a bench until they caught sight of me, the third standing before a heavily barred door to what had once served as scullery.
“Where’s Mar?”
“Within, sire. No one’s to enter, except the servant who brings—”
“Yes, of course. I won’t enter. Begone!”
“We cannot—”
“Complain to Groenfil, then. But I will be alone!”
Protesting, they took their leave.
I sat myself on the floor, my back resting on the bench. I unwrapped my bundle, uncorked the ewer, poured into the bowl.
Today I sought no cave.
My brother Pytor had been eight when Mar knotted the cord around his slender neck.
I would not touch him, nor enter his cell, or send anyone to do my bidding. I would preserve my vow, and the True.
I settled myself quickly. Groenfil would soon be upon us, and of more import, I could not use the Still long. I must conserve myself. I closed my eyes, murmured familiar words.
Presently, from within the scullery, a strangled cry.
Groenfil raced to the guardroom, Mar’s warders at his heels. With but a part of my contemplation I held him off until I was done—only a few moments. Then I wrenched palms from bowl, looked about, bobbed my head in greeting. “Resume the guarding, my lord.”
Groenfil’s face was grave. “What roguery is this?”
I got to my feet, weary, but less exhausted than I feared.
He demanded, “Have you been at Margenthar?”
“I’ve kept my oath in every particular.” I would say no more.
Afterward, Anavar dared to question me, and I beat him.
The day after, I gathered myself, again made my way to the guardroom outside Mar’s cell.
Of all the castle, only Groenfil was unafraid. Afterward, he took me squarely by the shoulders. “Know that you do evil.”
I was spent, and the cruelty was high in me. “I revel in it See whom you serve?” I shook myself free and went on my way.
Next morn, on the way to break fast, a figure darted out of shadow. Pardos had him in an instant, dagger at throat, but it was only Bayard, Mar’s son, unarmed. “I seek word with thee, majesty!”
“Then speak.”
“Alone?” His glance rebounded from my guards’ stern faces.
“Don’t, sire.”
“Take ease, Pardos. I’ve no fear of him.” My voice dripped contempt.
“He more than most has reason—”
“Don’t speak of it.” I reversed course, took Bayard to the chamber that had been his. To spite Pardos, I barred the door, locking out his rescue. “Well?”
From Bayard, a formal bow, one of deep courtesy. He took breath, as if garnering resolve. “Sire, I ask a boon.”
“Denied. What is it?”
Abruptly, he seemed uncertain, and rubbed his short-shorn scalp. “It’s true I’ve been no friend.” Almost, he hugged himself, but calmed his restless hands. “I appeal to your grace—your gracious mercy, for which you’re known through—”
“Lord of Nature, no rote speeches! Say what you want.”
“My father ... the duke is severe, and single-minded in pursuit of ... to us he’s decent, sometimes kind—I don’t know how to do this.” Bayard swallowed. “Know you what I would plead? Leave him his mind, I beg you!”
I was silent.
“He found me wife, stewards my lands, refills my purse. When I was young, even when he beat me, he’d hug me after. He’s not a usual father, even among nobles, but I have no other, and want none! I beg you!”
Slowly, I shook my head.
“I don’t ask that you forgive ... but, sire, have mercy. Last night, when his screams echoed ... I was with Varess, my mother ...” His eyes were liquid.
I opened the shutter, stared down at the sunswept courtyard. When I spoke, my voice was hard. “Pytor my brother was brought here. HERE, in his care, in this keep! Perhaps his shade remains!”
“I know not what—father sent me away that day, sire. Later it was whispered ... in truth, I cannot say it was done.”
“How kind of him to shield you.” Perhaps my derision was lost on him.
“Yet what gain to Pytor if you—”
I whirled. “Pytor is not all! Mar cost us Pezar, and with it Cumber. Perfidy without end. Come hither!” I grasped his wrist, put fingers to my scarred cheek. “Feel that! Don’t dare pull away!”
Bayard whispered. “Father hated that you were Elena’s and your life barred me from the throne. I cared not, but he ...”
My gaze was stony. “For Pytor, for my ruin, for the wound done Caledon, I exact recompense.” And I relish the quiet glee his pain brings. I would not speak of that.
“Sire, merciful king ...”
I yearned to cover my ears. For pride, I could not.
Bayard got down on one knee, then both. “I beg thee.” He raised hands, palms pressed together.
“No, no, and over again, no! Have done with it!”
“Wouldst joust with me, for his life?”
I gaped. “That’s not our law.”
“Custom, not so long past.” He gazed up hopefully.
“I will not joust for Mar. I have him, and will keep him.”
A shuddering breath. Then, determinedly, “Sire, trade my life for his. If you’ve any mercy, do this thing.”
I threw down the wooden bar, flung open the door. “Pardos, I would be alone!”
Fixing my gaze on a distant willow, I closed my ears to Bayard’s fading entreaties.
Before dinner, I brought my Vessels to the guardroom.
At dusk on the third day, Rustin led twenty worn, tired riders through the gate. Watching from my chamber window, I yearned to greet him but refrained, knowing the hypocrisy of it. Bollert ran out to hold Orwal. Rust swung down. Groenfil took him aside. Rust listened, jerked his gaze to my window. After a time, I turned away.
I sat on my bed, filled with sullen unease, as if awaiting Mother’s summons to Chamberlain Willem’s strap.
I expected Rust to bound up the stair, but he did not. Pardos told me he’d sat to d
inner. I found I wasn’t hungry. I toyed with the sheath of my dagger. Once, in the dream in which Rustin died, I’d scraped welts into my skin, to ease my pain.
What will ease me now? I lay back on the cushions.
The Still is a cruel gift.
Where, I wondered, was Tresa now? She’d meant to leave Soushire; no doubt she’d done so. If I found her, would she take me to her bed? I ached for nothing so much as her embrace. Someday, when we were married ... I could bare imagine our loveplay. Her solicitous fingers, exploring, arousing me, my eager thrusts ... no, that wouldn’t come to pass. I’d promised her a Return and a face that might withstand her gaze.
There could be no marriage.
She wouldn’t lack for suitors, even in exile. She was comely, courageous, sharp of mind and gentle.
All that I was not.
Whatever did Rustin see in me?
Poor Rust. He yearned for my embrace as I did Tresa’s. Neither of us would be fulfilled.
Soon he would confront my villainy. I swallowed.
No matter how he hurt me, I would not utter a sound.
“You sleep? You lie snoring?”
I jumped to my feet. “No, sir. I mean, yes, I was. I beg pardon.” My foot tingled; I shook it awake. Outside the shutters, a pale moon sailed.
Rust leaned against the open door, arms folded. “You kept your vow,” he said. “I concede you proved me stupid.”
“No.”
“I pray you, don’t speak.”
I nodded assent.
He crossed to the window, drew closed the shutter. “I saw him. Will he mend?”
I said, “I don’t know.” When I’d left him, Mar was all twitches and tics, his nails chewed ragged. Or so it seemed through the stillsilver, from the room beyond.
“Lady Varess begged you. Bayard pled for him. Even I entreated you.” Not fair. Rust had ordered, not begged. “But King Rodrigo had his way. So be it.” He unknotted his cloak.
“What will you—” —do to me, I’d meant to ask. But he’d bidden me not speak.
He washed at the basin, settled himself on the bed. For a long while he was silent. Then he said, “Know, my prince, that you break my heart.”
Morn came, and we’d not spoken. Nor had I slept.
As Rust dressed, I broke the chill silence. “Will I be forgiven?”
His eyes were bleak. For a moment he drew my head to his, rested his forehead on my breast. He buckled his sword, went down to the great hall.
Groenfil was there to break fast, and Anavar. Lady Varess, too, pale and hollow-eyed. Even Danzik. But of Bayard there was no sign.
I took Anavar aside. “When I beat you, it was my cruelty, brought out by the Still.”
“I know.”
“Why did you not protest?”
“Your rancor needed vent.” He held my gaze, until mine turned aside.
“I’m sorry. I think.”
He shrugged. “Beyond that, I was rude.”
I sat elsewhere. I could not abide decency, this morn.
When Lady Varess left, Rustin beckoned to Groenfil. The two seated themselves at my table. Unbidden, Anavar wandered near. Rustin frowned at him. “Don’t stretch your ears. If you’d sit with us, ask it.” He did, and was given consent. “Roddy, tell Danzik we need to speak privately. Say something about vade.”
I did, and the Norlander bared his teeth. But he rose, lumbered out.
Rustin bent close, lowered his voice. “Sarazon’s moved most of his men to the hills. The Seacross Road is his supply line from Stryx. We could evade it, and him. But, even so, there’s so many Norland troops ... I’m not sure what we could do in Stryx.”
I blurted. “Draw him back.” They looked at me. “That’s what we’d do.”
“To what purpose?”
Inwardly, I sighed my relief. Rust might well have ordered me silent, or treated me like the boy I’d shown myself. I said, “Sarazon’s a cautious man. If we—”
Rust said sharply, “How know you that?”
“Danzik told me, in the time you were dead.” I hurried on. “If we sting Sarazon at Stryx, his base, he’ll withdraw from the hills to protect it. That clears the lands around Verein and prevents his linking with Hriskil near Soushire.”
Groenfil chewed his lip. “Four hundred of us. Perhaps fifty added from Verein, if we entirely denude the walls.”
“We can’t all go.” Anavar. All looked his way. “Not since Roddy ... after Mar, they’ll ...” He glanced about, blushed. “Pardon, my lords.”
Nobody’s eyes would meet mine. I said with determination, “Our baron’s right. My barbarity to Uncle Mar makes him a figure of sympathy. Now Mar can’t—isn’t capa—” I swallowed. “Today, Mar isn’t capable of schemes, but Bayard ...” unless we imprison him, he’ll avenge his father’s torture.” I looked about. “You mistake my meaning,” I said quickly. “I don’t propose it.”
Rustin said only, “That’s a comfort.” My ears went red.
Groenfil knotted his fists. “We’re stripped to a handful if we leave fifty at the castle to guard the fifty Mar brought home.”
“No,” I said, casting aside my caution. “We bring the men of Verein. Leave but a score of our own, to man the gate.”
“And Bayard?”
“I’ll see he gives parole.”
“Fah. What could you offer—”
“I’ll find way.”
Groenfil said, “You’d trust his honor after—”
“Who’s left for him to subvert, if Verein’s soldiers ride with us?”
The earl shook his head. “Be practical, Roddy. A keep the size of Verein, with but twenty defenders? It will fall to the first patrol that wanders past.”
“With Stryx, we’d have no need of Verein.” I added, “In fact, we ought—”
“Enough, Rodrigo.” Rustin’s voice was quiet.
“But—”
“I’ll think on it and give answer anon.”
“Anon” came past midday, but by then I knew his mind. It took no great wit to observe the blacksmiths hard at work reshoeing the horses of Groenfil’s troop, or to notice seamsters gathering every last scrap of canvas for sewing into tents. Three light, well-built wagons appeared in the courtyard and were slowly filled with dried meat, fruit, flour, implements of war.
The remnant army of Caledon girded itself.
Rustin sought me out in the stable, where I fed Ebon and Edmund from a stock of apples. “As to Bayard ...
“I’ll speak with him.”
“As you spoke to his father?”
“No, Rust. I promise.”
“Bah, what good your vow? You keep its letter but shatter its spirit.”
“Not this time. Leave me if I do.”
Bayard was not to be found. At length, I went to Lady Varess and demanded she produce her son.
It took an hour.
Bayard regarded me sullenly. “I’d prefer a cell.”
“I offer inducement. Your father.”
A hiss of breath. “You’ll release him?”
“Not quite yet; perhaps on our return. But for your parole not to overthrow our authority, I’ll vow not to ...” I hesitated; there was no word for it. “To molest him again. Ever.” Lord of Nature, I felt shabby.
A whisper. “How can I trust you?”
“I don’t know, Bayard; I’ll grant I’m not terribly scrupulous. My oath on the True, and all that.”
At length he agreed, and we exchanged vows. He departed. I watched, knowing what I hadn’t told him: after my last assault, I doubted Uncle Mar would ever be near whole. I need not bother him more.
At dinner Rust said, “We’ve one decision left: whom we leave to defend Verein.”
For a moment my resentment flared. “You’re regent. What say you?”
“I say, let the boy king decide.” His tone was sharp. “Good practice for when he’s a man.”
No more than I deserved. “My lord, I beg pardon.” I thought a moment and had the answer.
<
br /> After the meal, I took Anavar aside. His eyes grew wide. “You don’t tease me, sir?”
“Not in this.”
A whoop, and he threw himself on me in a fierce hug. “By myself? Truly in charge?”
Smiling, I disengaged myself. “It’s not as if you’ll command an army. Or even a regiment.”
“No, but ...” His brow furrowed. “Only twenty, you say? It means an old washerwoman could force the gate, if she’d had enough drink. Still, beyond the troops, there’s servants and storemen and ... truly, you leave Verein in my hands?”
“As rehearsal, youngsire. I always meant it to be yours.” Little enough chance of that now. Better leaving Anavar behind than engaging him in a suicidal dash down the coast. Perhaps Verein’s walls offered a pinch more safety, if he had the sense to surrender them.
Thirty-two
WE JANGLED THROUGH THE gate at dawn. I rode with Rustin, Groenfil and Danzik. Anavar saw us off.
I doubted the boy had slept a wink; he’d rushed about the castle checking arms, learning the names of his men, conferring with Lady Varess. She might hate me, but her brother served my cause, and as only my meager army stood between her and Hriskil, her welfare was bound to mine. In any event, she was civil enough to my young baron.
During the night Anavar woke me twice. He’d loaded extra stores in the second cart, for us to take; Verein wouldn’t need them. By the way, could he have Bollert, to help tend horses? Go to bed? Of course, sir, as soon as all was in hand. Rustin merely groaned and stuck a pillow over his ears.
We rode from Verein with scarce a look back. Of all my domain, I liked it least, and its lord was the cause. Well, I’d settled that account. As I told Rustin after he made a rather tart remark: if I must assuage Mar to keep Caledon, I didn’t want the kingdom. Then take heart, he’d replied; I’d probably accomplished that very thing. For an hour afterward we had little to say, until our hearts thawed and we exchanged unspoken apology.
By the road, it was a day west to Stryx, but we were perforce more circumspect. And even with six horses to each wagon, we were slowed somewhat. Wheels could not go where hooves might. Twice our scouts reported a Norland supply column wending its way toward Seacross. Easy takings, but surprise was a coin spent but once. We agreed to expend it nearer Stryx.
The King (Rodrigo of Caledon Book 2) Page 43
