After a moment, he leaned back and she looked up into his face. “Are you hungry, my love?”
He smiled down at her, gazing into her lovely eyes, marveling as always at the myriad jewel tones in their lustrous depths. “I am.”
“Come.”
As they were walking up the valley road toward town with his arm around her and her head on his shoulder, she looked up again. “Did you acquire what you needed?”
He decided that his time with her was too precious to waste on details, possibilities and uncertainties. Besides, there was another subject to discuss with her that would cause enough tension. And it could wait until later as well.
“Yes.” He said simply.
They ate on the veranda, as was becoming their custom, and as the sun fell away to the west behind them, Alvern came down out of the sky and lit on the railing. He lowered his head momentarily to Ka’en and then fixed his golden eyes on Aram.
“Welcome back, Lord Aram.”
Aram nodded. “Thank you, Lord Alvern. What news?”
“Nothing troubles the plain all the way to the stream that these people call Broad River. Patrols of the enemy continue beyond those waters, however, and they often come to the edge of the river. The fort on Flat Butte is finished and fully manned. Many men often train on the plains to the south of that mountain. I see the wolves often, just glimpses as they prowl the woodland.” The bird thought for a moment. “That is all.”
“Does it appear as if the enemy is preparing to come eastward?”
“I cannot know that, my lord. But in the days that I have watched them, their habits do not change.”
Aram nodded. “Lord Alvern, are there hawks of your acquaintance living in the hills that go south toward the sea?”
“There are several pair, my lord. Why?”
“On occasion, I will need news of the town on the sea that I just visited. Will they help us?”
The eagle stretched his wings and picked up one clawed foot, adjusting his weight on the railing. “All will help you, Lord Aram – but there is a pair of eagles that live near unto that town and can cover the distance in a few hours. They dwell in the high rocks of the arm of land that stretches out into the sea beyond. The female of that pair is Anabara, the daughter of my daughter. I will speak to her tomorrow, if you like. What ‘news’ do you seek?”
“There is a house on the easternmost edge of that town, beyond the stream.” Aram answered. “It is near a cliff. If ever there appears a square of red cloth on the roof of that house, I would like to know at once. It is a signal that I am needed.”
The eagle bobbed his head. “Of course, my lord. They will know of your wishes on the morrow and will come to you at once if the red cloth appears. Anabara may be on the nest – it may be the male that comes. His name is Palus.”
“Thank you, Lord Alvern.” Aram glanced at Ka’en and decided that the issue that would create tension between them might as well be addressed now as later. “There is one other thing, my friend.”
“Yes, my lord?”
“The steel that we purchased in that town will arrive within the month. After it is safely in Derosa, I wish to see more of the world – in particular, that portion to the west.” He hesitated, glancing once again at Ka’en, who gazed back with a slight frown creasing her forehead. Aram stood and walked to the rail. After a moment, he turned to face the great bird. “It occurred to me that I know very little of the world beyond these lands. If I am to develop a strategy for taking this fight to the enemy and pushing back the frontiers – then I must know where those frontiers are and where they may be pushed.”
Alvern studied him a moment. “What do you wish from me, my lord?”
“Your company – and your eyes.”
Ka’en stood, her hands clasped across her breast. Aram met her eyes and smiled slightly; then turned back to Alvern. “I want to travel light and fast. Thaniel will bear me and Durlrang will go along to warn us in the night and be my eyes on the ground. But I will need you in the sky above me. Will you do this?”
“Yes, my lord, of course. When do we leave?”
“In about a month – as long as there is no sign of aggression on the part of our enemies.”
“Very good, my lord. Is there aught else?”
“No.”
The eagle stretched his great wings and leapt backward off the railing, catching the wind. “Then, by your leave, I will go to the river for supper.”
Aram raised his hand. “Thank you, my friend.”
After the eagle left, Aram turned to face Ka’en. She had sat again and was gazing after the bird, biting at her lower lip.
“Please, my love, don’t hurt that lovely mouth.” Aram said gently.
Her eyes moved and found his face. “So – you are leaving again – alone.”
“I must.”
“Send Alvern – he will tell you of the configuration of the world. There is no need for you to go.” She stopped speaking and put one hand to her breast. An odd light came into her eyes. She stood and came to him, taking his hands in hers. “Aram, my love, I will go with you.”
He didn’t know what to do. He had expected her disapproval, but not this. Where there had been distress in her eyes a moment before; now they shone with excitement. It occurred to him that she was much more than an amazing beauty – she was strong willed and adventuresome, and not easily dissuaded from anything she wanted to do. The fact that – a year earlier – she had forced her brother and his friends to take her into a forbidden valley near the onset of winter to look for the man she loved proved as much.
For just a moment, he was tempted. To spend two or three weeks alone with her, exploring the unknown world beyond their borders was an enticing prospect. She must have seen the thought flicker deep in his eyes, for she squeezed his hands and smiled brightly. “It will be a great adventure.”
He took a deep breath then, and reason reasserted its influence. Slowly, he shook his head, hating to see the brightness leave her features.
“You know that it’s not possible, Ka’en.”
She squeezed his hands tighter. ”Why?”
“You know why – all the reasons. For one thing, there is your virtue. I don’t trust myself alone with you – why should your father? And there is our wedding. The summer will pass more quickly that you think.” He hesitated, knowing that the next reason would hold the least weight for her, even as it held the most for him. “And it will be dangerous. Even with Alvern and Durlrang along – it will be dangerous. I would never take you anyplace where you would be put at risk – you know this.”
She still gripped his hands. “Yet you will deliberately place yourself in jeopardy – again.”
“Danger and I are old acquaintances, my love. And I will be the most cautious of men. Don’t worry, I will return.” He pulled her into his arms and after a moment felt her acquiescence. Nonetheless, he explained. “I need to get a sense of the lay of the land in order to know how to proceed. Understand, Ka’en – my eyes must see the world for themselves. The men will continue to train with Donnick, and I have some new tactics to teach them. Steel for armor will be here within the month. The time is near when we may take the war to our enemy. I have to decide for myself where we will strike – and when.”
Her head buried in his chest, she nodded. The subject was closed.
Over the next several days, Aram oversaw the training of the men; in the evenings, he instructed Donnick and the infantry captains in the practical logistics of war that he had learned from Joktan. He showed them how to stack the pikemen in ordered, concentric ranks, three men deep, a tactic that added the strength of those men in the rear ranks to those in the vanguard and brought two extra lances into play at the moment of contact with the enemy.
He taught them the fundaments of getting the men online quickly by bringing them forward in concentric columns which, when separated by the proper distance, spilled their men sideways into ranks that formed a solid front very rapidly while o
n the field of battle. Organizing the troops in this manner allowed units of men to wheel either way as separate, single entities before quickly closing up ranks again in order to face new threats or to take advantage of unexpected opportunities.
During the daytime, he worked with the mounted companies. Eventually, horses and the men willing to ride them were all paired up. There were two hundred and sixty members of the fledgling cavalry. Aram was somewhat disappointed – he had over eight hundred willing horses; he had hoped to field a cavalry of four hundred men or more. But this did not happen. Still, he had the horses without mounts train alongside their brethren in the hope that someday soon there would be more willing men.
Ten days passed. One afternoon, as Aram was watching the horses charge and wheel across the green plains before Derosa, an eagle that he did not know descended from the blue. The great bird was bronze colored like Alvern but had tips of black on its wing feathers.
“I am Palus, my lord. I had instructions from Lord Alvern to inform you if red cloth appeared upon the house near the cliff.”
“Yes?”
“It has appeared.”
Aram nodded. “Thank you, Palus, I am most grateful.”
“I know who you are, Lord Aram – I am glad to be of service.” The eagle answered before catching the wind and wheeling away.
Aram spoke to Thaniel and they went forward to where the others trained. He gathered Findaen, Wamlak, and Jonwood, and sent the horse Markris to collect Mallet. Within the hour, the men had gathered packs of supplies to sustain them and gone south along the ancient road.
Late in the afternoon of the following day, they entered the pass above Durck and looked down upon the town. Findaen glanced over. “Do we leave the horses again?”
Aram shook his head. “Not this time – we need to make an impression.”
The sun was still above the rugged, rocky hills to the west but most of the town was in shadow, only the public house and those buildings near it on the eastern edge of town were in sunlight. There was light struggling out of the grimy windows of the public house and raucous laughter echoed up the slope. One lone ship lay at rest in the harbor.
“Come.” Aram said, and they rode down the switchbacks and into the town, stopping outside the public house where they dismounted. Townsfolk peered out at them from their windows and doorways along the street.
Aram looked at his companions. “Cover your ears.” He said, and then he drew the sword of heaven and let the slanted sunlight bathe the blade until it began to sing and fire coiled along its length. Then he strode through the doorway.
Not everyone noticed him at first, busy as they were eating, drinking, and tormenting Lora and her boy as they served them. Aram thrust the blade at the air above their heads, intending that the flash of it would attract their attention. A bolt of fire, like lightning, shot from it and crackled through the air, striking high in the wall opposite, surprising even Aram. If the unexpected blast had been a bit lower heads would have been severed along the tangent of that fiery bolt.
Men jumped to their feet, some pulled weapons, swords of various lengths and daggers. Most, however, made for the undersides of tables. Aram quickly recovered from the surprise of the unexpected blast and went to work with the sword, reducing the steel blades in the hands of those nearest him to useless, mangled metal that burned any hand that tried to retain a grip.
By stages, everyone in the place froze, staring at him, dropping their weapons to cover their ears from the sound of the blade. Though removed from the influence of sunlight and slowly lessening in intensity, the song of the sword and the flames writhing along its length remained impressive enough to immobilize the room.
After a moment, deliberately, Aram sheathed the blade. Men shrank back as he stepped forward.
“Whose ship is it that lies in the harbor?”
Forty fingers at the ends of forty arms extended and pointed to a short, rotund man, with heavy jowls, fat cheeks, a hooked nose rounded at the end, bushy eyebrows, a small forehead below thinning hair, and tiny, flinty eyes standing at the back of the room. He looked around slowly, narrowing his already narrow eyes at his crew. The forty arms fell limp.
Aram studied the man for a moment and decided that he didn’t like him.
“What is your name?” He asked bluntly.
With the sword sheathed, and the small number of Aram’s companions noted, the man evidently felt a surge of confidence. He looked around again and then met Aram’s gaze straight on. His lip curled in a sneer.
“Who’s asking?”
Aram reached back and drew the sword again. There were no flames this time, but slowly, beginning at the deepest edge of hearing, its song once again rose. He swept the sword back and forth before him as he crossed the room toward the short stout captain, clearing a wide path as men slunk away from the strange metallic blade, putting their hands to their ears to blunt its rising hum. When he stood but four or five feet away from the man, he halted.
“I will tell you who I am, then.” Aram said quietly. “I am the man that killed Burkhed, because he broke the law on my lands.” He saw a flicker of caution, bordering on fear appear in the man’s eyes. “My name is Aram, son of Joktan. You are standing in a town that sits on my lands. You will give your name or face contempt. If you have broken any laws, then you will face justice.”
He raised the tip of the blade. “Your name, sir – one last time.”
The man’s eyes flicked left and right but found no help. “Sambuf Fraw.” He said sullenly.
Aram moved the blade slightly. “Is that your ship in the bay?”
Sambuf Fraw nodded.
“What cargo did you bring?”
Fraw shrugged. “Just a few trinkets, gold and stones, jewelry. We haven’t found a market yet. We just stopped for a little recreation. We’ve been at sea a while, waiting – for things to clear.”
“So, you didn’t want to come into harbor while Burkhed was here?”
Fraw gazed at him sullenly in silence for a moment and then nodded.
Aram smiled savagely. “He’s still here, you know. His crew wrapped his body and threw it into the bay.”
For several minutes the two men watched each other without speaking. The silence, broken only by the humming of the blade, stretched out. Aram could see in Fraw’s eyes that he understood that Aram could kill him easily and none could oppose it.
“What do you want from me – my lord?”
Aram held his gaze. “Do you know Mullen?”
Fraw nodded. Aram continued. “He governs this town in my absence. What I want from you, captain, is obedience to his word – which is the word of my law. Break it and you will be banned from this port forever. Harm any person in this town and I will hunt you and destroy you. Understood?”
Slowly, sullenly, the man nodded.
Aram studied him. He knew that Fraw saw this whole conversation as a humiliation. Aram decided that he didn’t care.
“One last thing, captain. Stand where you are.” Aram glanced at Lora. “Has this man paid you, Lora?”
She shook her head. “He never does. Most pay me in whiskey or supplies, foodstuffs. Fraw never pays.”
Aram’s eyes grew hard and dangerous. “Pay the lady, Fraw, or I confiscate your ship and sell it to cover your debt.”
Fraw’s eyes took on a hunted look. “But I told you – we haven’t found a market for our wares yet.”
Aram spoke to Lora without taking his eyes off the seaman. “Will you accept jewelry as payment, Lora?”
She smiled triumphantly. “Yes.”
“Alright.” Aram nodded. “Here is what you will do, captain. You will go to your ship and bring a selection of jewelry back to town. Mullen will look it over and decide what is equitable.”
The seaman’s right hand dropped from protecting his ear and quivered near a dagger thrust through his belt and his beady eyes grew flinty again. “That’s robbery, that is.”
“And what do you call cheating
this woman every time you’re in port?”
The fingers of Fraw’s right hand, dangling near the hilt of the dagger, twitched nervously. “But she’s just a – a –”
“A what, captain?”
“A whore – that’s what she is.” Fraw’s voice had risen until this was delivered almost as a yell. “She’s just a useless whore.”
Aram waited a minute, listening to the man’s suddenly labored breathing rising and falling like a miniature tempest. Then he spoke in a quiet, deadly tone. “She is a businesswoman in a town that sits on my lands. I’m beginning to think, captain, that you ought to draw that dagger and give me cause to kill you.” He raised his voice so that it carried through the room. “Perhaps it is time that your ship had a new captain?”
Fraw’s face went red with anger; his hand suffered spasms as it hung near the dagger, but even in his rage, he couldn’t find the courage to draw it forth. “Are you fomenting rebellion among my crew?”
Aram smiled grimly. “Sometimes rebellion is justified, even necessary. Two choices now, captain. Draw the dagger or go get the jewelry.”
Fraw’s eyes flicked away and he started to go around Aram’s left, but then hesitated, met Aram’s eyes briefly and went to his right.
“I’ll get the jewelry.” He said.
In the instant that their eyes met, Aram knew what the man was going to do. As he passed by Aram’s sword arm, more closely than was required to avoid a post that held up the ceiling, he drew the dagger and stabbed toward Aram’s exposed back. But Aram was already sliding away and swinging the sword in a short deadly arc, passing it through the thick middle of the man’s body. Fraw fell in a heap, erupting blood.
A stunned silence filled the room like the sudden lull after a thunderclap. Then Findaen glanced around and fixed Aram with a wry smile. “This town’s developing a shortage of captains, my lord.”
Aram sheathed the sword and the silence was complete. “Does the ship have a first mate?”
After a long tense moment, a thin man with an even thinner face, eyes that sagged at the corners, large ears and nose, and straggly blond hair stepped forward. “My name is Whittle, my lord. I’m first mate of the Sagway.”
Kelven's Riddle Book Two Page 38
