“Excellent,” the hillman grinned before barking at the fairy. “Not a move, girl, or I’ll slit your throat by accident!”
The experienced Rinald picked up on what was happening when he entered the room. He held his axe with one hand and raised the other in the air.
“MacMann, you do know that you’re covering yourself, your clan, your ancestors, and all your descendants in disgrace, don’t you?” Fergus asked in a friendly tone.
“I couldn’t care less,” the hillman said, gripping the fairy tightly and moving slowly toward the exit. “I couldn’t care less about you, your laws, or your rules. Times are changing, you old fool. Rennor realized that, Macmillan realizes it, and even that king of the tramps and beggars realizes it.”
“What did I tell you?” Lennox said with a quick glance at Lossarnakh. “He’s a reptile, but he’s right. Although, for what you said about my Uncle Fergus, I’m going to—”
“You’re not going to do anything,” Lossarnakh said, shaking his head. “And nobody who wants to retain my friendship will do anything to him. Brother, did you hear me?”
“That’s my…” I stammered, not sure what I wanted to say. My who?
“I get that she’s your daughter,” Lossarnakh nodded. “But you’re my brother, and therefore she means something to me, too. This guy’s digging a deeper debt, but he’s still mine.”
I sighed and finally decided to decline the quest that was still hovering in front of me. Although, if Tren-Bren starts stuttering, I’m going to go all the way to Valyaev to find that bastard and… Oh, what I was going to do? I’ll find the server he’s on, and archive the hell out of it.
“I’ll look forward to our next meeting,” MacMann said to Lossarnakh with a wide smile. “Believe me, I’m being completely sincere right now. I want to kill you, too, and I’m going to make that happen.”
He left the hall, and we heard him shout to his compadres. “Everything good down there?”
“Yes,” came the answer from one of his people.
“He’s leaving,” Rinald said to us with a glance out the door. “That’s a shame.”
“He would have killed Hagen’s daughter,” Lossarnakh said, going over to the window. “We didn’t have a choice. Of course, we would have avenged her, but is life worth living in the knowledge that it was bought by the blood of your brother’s daughter?”
“The blood of one child for the blood of many warriors,” the pipe smoker said. “If we’d killed them there, the war would have been much simpler.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Simon,” Dag said, bending over the Skrimms leader’s body. I heard his knee creak. “He was just a boy…stupid, but honest.”
The smoker sat back down. “What’s ridiculous about that?”
“We’re warriors, and we live to die,” Dag replied as he straightened up with a groan. “I mean, that’s the point of everything we do. But she’s a child. It’s not even important that she’s the child of one of us—she’s just a child.”
“You’re getting old, Dag,” Simon replied. “Although, maybe you’re right.”
I shook my head and ran over to the window. It was a weird feeling, but the person down there on the stairs really did feel dear to me. What’s going on?
MacMann walked out of the house and into the square, where the crowd of gelts stared at him in confusion. I couldn’t hear, but it looked like they were asking him questions he didn’t bother to answer. Instead, he threw a question at the group of his people who quickly and expertly surrounded him. One of them shook a sword connected to a swordbelt. He must have been asking about his weapon.
Looking up, he saw us and gestured for us to open the window.
The baron pushed the windowpanes out, and a rush of chilled air blew into the room. It was winter, after all, if a winter that smacked more of fall.
“I hope you realize, MacSommers, that it’s time for war,” the guy yelled sarcastically. “I can’t declare it myself, but, believe me, it’s true. And I’m glad things are finally out in the open.”
“I’ll send your masters a spear,” Lossarnakh replied instead of Fergus. “You’re right, though—slaves have no business speaking for their masters.”
“A spear?” MacMann and the hillmen around him laughed. “What do we care about your spear? No, this war will be fought on our terms. Although, judging by what happened in Tuad Valley, we could finish you our way or yours. You’re an unlucky wretch and a coward. Hey, everyone, that misunderstanding up there who somehow managed to become a gelt wants to be your king!”
“King?” called a dozen voices. “What king? What’s going on?”
“Gelts!” MacMann roared. “Listen, and don’t say that you weren’t given a chance. If any of you want to survive this war, here you go—bring us the heads of your leaders, that beggar from the West, and, of course, MacMagnus, and you’ll be allowed to live. You have the word of a MacMann!”
“A MacMann who cowers behind children instead of taking up his sword,” Lossarnakh noted coldly. “A man of honor, that much we can see.”
“You heard me,” MacMann said, unwilling to get into a discussion. He was too busy looking around, apparently afraid of catching an arrow in the back, and gave an order to his people. “Open a portal.”
“Let the girl go!” Fergus shouted. “You’re a scoundrel, but you can still let her go.”
“Yes?” MacMann smiled unpleasantly and wiggled the blade of the knife around the fairy’s neck. It glinted in the light of the setting sun. “Oh, I don’t know…”
“What are you doing, you bastard?” a very old gelt woman in a plaid skirt waving a cane asked. “I knew your mother; we were family. If Frida knew what she gave birth to, she would have smothered you while you were still in diapers!”
“Okay, okay.” I suspected that things like that didn’t work on the rotten heart of the hillman; it was probably the political ramifications he was worried about. “Fly away, ugly. Mother Nature already punished you enough—nobody needs you.”
A portal flashed at the same moment as Tren-Bren flew up into the air. Her hands clutched her neck, and it was strange to hear the obscenities she was spitting.
Everything went quiet in the square, and even MacMann paused for a split-second to listen as the fairy ranted, fists waving at the air and sparks dousing everyone on the ground.
“Look at her go,” said Simon, letting out a satisfied cloud of smoke. “That’s a good girl right there, and she’ll make someone a good wife. You know what I’m thinking, Hagen? My younger son Ted is going to be thirteen soon, and your girl there is just coming of age. What if we marry them and unite our lines? It’s okay that she has wings—they just make it easier for her to look for lost sheep.”
I exhaled, once again wondering if the absurd side of the game was approaching critical mass. What, am I going to unlock Betrothed, a quest I’m supposed to marry Tren-Bren off to the son of some clan leader for? What’s his name? MacAns. Ted MacAns.
There was no such message, though Simon interpreted my silence differently.
“I’ll give you twenty-five sheep for her.”
“Thirty,” I replied automatically.
“Isn’t that a lot?” MacAns shook his head. “My flocks aren’t as big as some people say.”
“Chief, you’re buying your son a wife, and not a cart,” Dorn jumped in, his voice betraying suppressed laughter. He was apparently feeling better. “You want a beauty like that for just twenty-five sheep?”
The portal in the square closed just as Tren-Bren finished her speech and came tumbling back down to earth. The people gathered were silent for a good five seconds, and then they broke into spontaneous applause. My fairy’s abilities and command of the language had clearly impressed them.
“There’s a lot we have to discuss,” Lossarnakh said. He looked calm on the outside, though I could tell he was upset. “Leaders, we don’t have much time—I’m sure our opponents are already prepared for a major war. This will be a war unl
ike any we’ve seen, too.”
“MacMagnus is right,” I said. “It’s going to be a war like the ones they have in the West. No valleys, no chest against chest, none of that. It’s going to be an expansion.”
“MacLynn, was that a curse or something scientific?” a gray-mustachioed gelt asked seriously. “We’re simple people here, no graduates of the Academy of Wisdom.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I replied. “The most important thing is that we need to be ready for everything. There will be ambushes, nighttime raids, and guerrilla warfare. They could even poison your wells or burn your villages—there are no rules.”
“I think the guy’s getting a little carried away,” the one with the mustache said. “I mean—”
“Morlock, look over there. Have you ever seen a gelt killed at a leader council?” Fergus asked, pointing at young Skrimms’ body. “Outside, MacLynn’s daughter is cursing up a storm because one of us just about cut her throat. Hagen, you need to have a talk with her—it sounds like she’s gotten caught up with some bad people. A young girl shouldn’t be able to curse that well.”
“He’s right,” Dag said, patting me on the shoulder. “First, it’s the cursing, then, it’s ale behind the sheepfold, and then, she runs off into the hills with some blockhead to make you a grandfather. Kids aren’t the way they used to be. Why, I remember—”
“Twenty sheep, five rams, ten steel, well-forged axes,” MacAns broke in, counting on his fingers. “I’ll cover half the cost of the wedding, too.”
“Do it,” Dorn muttered. “That’s a great deal!”
Once again, my inbox dinged. Who is that? I assumed it was Miurat writing something about the situation we were in being what I got for my obstinacy.
***
“What a rat, huh?” Tren-Bren said, flying in with a demeanor unlike her usual little girl look. “Once I do some leveling-up, I’m going to find him, destroy him, just—”
“Young lady, we understand,” Fergus said reproachfully. “But please, take pity on our ears and remember your age.”
“Sorry.” The fairy was excited and furious, which made sense. Nobody likes having a knife against her throat.
“Okay, so here we are on the threshold of war,” Lossarnakh said, looking around. “If you leaders don’t mind, I’ll tell you what we need to do right now.”
A couple of them frowned, which he quickly noticed.
“I realize that isn’t our normal custom, but there’s a reason for that. I fought in the West and the South. Unlike you, I know how they fight wars there.”
“MacMagnus is right. He’s been there. The MacMagnuses were always good at looking a few steps ahead of everyone else,” Fergus said with authority, further building up the foundation Lossarnakh was standing on. I wonder if he and Brother Yur have ever met. “There’s another thing: so far, this is only his war and mine. Everyone who wants to, can leave right now. There’s nothing shameful in that, and not a single word will be spoken against you. For those who remain… Well, I’m not sure what you can expect. It may be glory and victory; it may be death and obscurity. I, however, will stay.”
“I will, too,” my fellow matchmaker said with a wave of his pipe.
“And I,” Dag said.
“Me, too,” Tren-Bren added.
The baron waved a threatening finger at her. “Okay, girl, get out of here. We don’t need your stories anymore so you can leave.”
“What do you mean?” The fairy was indignant, but old Dag just pulled off his boot.
“Get out, child! Before you get my shoe on your bum!”
To my great surprise, the fairy shot one last curse our way and shot out the window. All we heard were her wings flapping.
“So, what about the betrothal?” MacAns asked insistently. I replied thoughtfully as I gazed out the window.
“You know on your side, but I need to think.”
I could stuff her in a sack, hand her to her future father-in-law, and enjoy some peace and quiet… Until she found the way back.
“Ha-age-en!” I heard somebody call from outside. “Can you come out and play?”
I guess that’s enough of the game for me. When you start to hear things like that, you start to wonder if everything’s okay upstairs.
“Ha-agen! It’s still light out!” the girl’s voice continued. “Come o-on!”
“Someone’s calling you,” a confused Dorn said. “I’m not the only one who hears that, am I?”
“No, I do, too,” I replied. “I just wasn’t planning on playing outside today…”
“Ha-agen! Are you coming or not?”
“MacLynn, tell that girl we’re busy and shut the window,” Fergus said harshly. “Rinald, is that poor kid’s body going to lie here much longer? Take it to the icebox and then send it to his clan with our condolences.”
Rinald nodded and headed toward the body; I walked over to the window, hoping I was hallucinating. Needless to say, shouts like that never mean anything good. Somebody had found me, and they wanted to dump yet another problem on my shoulders.
***
Milly Re was standing outside. When she saw me, she smiled and curled a finger.
“Come on down. Do you even read your messages? Half our clan is looking for you, and you’re ignoring us.”
“I’ve been busy. Still am, really,” I muttered. “I can’t just walk away from this.”
Milly’s face turned serious. “You’re going to have to—they’re waiting for you.”
“Who?” I asked, immediately realizing that that was a dumb question.
“A pair with a stretcher and another with an axe,” Milly replied. She whirled a finger around her temple. “Use your brains, and don’t make me yell what I shouldn’t even be whispering.”
“Who is that?” Tren-Bren flew down from somewhere and gazed at Milly with interest.
“An old friend of mine,” I sighed.
“Really?” Tren-Bren looked the warrior girl over. “I don’t know… Krolina is cuter, to say nothing of me.”
“Hagen!” Milly called, her fists in her sides. “Do I have to come up there?”
“MacLynn, we’re waiting for you,” Fergus called from behind me. His tone let me know that I was about to get myself into trouble.
I think my head is going to explode.
“Hagen, if you need to go somewhere, go,” Lossarnakh said. “I know, you have lots of other things going on, and they’re probably serious if they found you here. This good dwarf will be your voice, at least, if he stays.”
“Of course, I’m staying,” Dorn said, coming over to the window and looking out at the girl. “The Hounds. You have quite the friends—I’m not sure if I should be jealous or feel bad for you. You can’t turn down invitations like that, though, so go ahead.”
“Take your daughter, too,” Dag said. “She makes too much noise. If she were mine, I’d beat that out of her! That’s what I did with my girls, and they grew up fine. Good wives, good mothers. The only problem is that they’ve only given us more girls…”
“I’m coming,” I yelled down to Milly before going over to Lossarnakh. “Brother, we need your castle. Morrigot’s walls and bridge will be critical, a good, safe spot to come back to.”
“I heard you,” he replied tactfully.
“I very much hope so.” I bowed to the council, informed them that the dwarf represented me, and headed out.
***
“I’m coming with him,” the fairy said as soon as Milly came over, “and that’s not up for discussion.”
“What’s that?” the warrior girl asked, looking at Tren-Bren in surprise. “Did you get a pet or something?”
“You have a fat ass,” Tren-Bren said from above us. “I can see the whole thing from here!”
“How much would I owe you if I killed that thing?” Milly asked me thoughtfully.
“Twenty sheep, five rams, and ten steel axes,” I replied wearily. “Listen, both of you, I’m really tired. You have no idea how exhausted I
am. Doubtless, you couldn’t care less about that, but let’s just go straight to wherever they need me and talk to whoever’s there. That person will ask me what happened, and I’ll tell them exactly who got me feeling this way. Do I make myself clear?”
“Tren-Bren, fairy,” my ward said, flying down and proffering her hand.
Milly shook it warily. “Milly Re, warrior. Hagen, is she really coming with us?”
“We don’t have a choice,” I replied with a sad shrug. “I need peace with the local gelts, and I doubt I’ll get it as long as she’s around. How did you even find me?”
“I just did. Someone gave me a hint.”
That has to be Glen’s handiwork. It was a straight road from Erinbug to our village, and they’d sent her straight there. Kro knew who to send after me and who not to.
“Ready?” Milly Re pulled out a portal scroll. “Time’s ticking—you know how it is.”
“Isn’t it always?” I shrugged and felt Tren-Bren take me by the hand.
“Are you stupid?” Milly flicked my forehead. “Every minute counts with things like this.”
“Things like what?” I asked apprehensively.
“We’re mobilizing for war. The skirmishes are over, and it’s time for the real thing.”
Tren-Bren and I looked at each other.
“Kid, you always know everything,” I said, bending over the fairy. “Have you heard anything about that?”
“When would I have?” she shot back indignantly. “I’ve been spending all my time in battle, with the gelts, or with a knife at my throat. I don’t have time for news.”
“You guys are going feral over there,” Milly Re said sympathetically. “You have to get your culture on in the big cities every once in a while.”
“Milly, let’s just skip the jokes,” I said. “Believe me, I’m in it up to my neck. I have a clan, a war, betrayal, everything. They just about killed the kid a few minutes ago.”
“Everybody knows about your war, already,” the warrior replied. “There are a lot of people upset that they don’t have a recording of a few things. You got this whole mess started, after all! By the way, that battle in that valley…what was it called? Whatever, that’s not important. Did you record it?”
The Crown and the Key Page 23
