Rogai smiled, all pleasure at learning what he wished, then shook his head. "Wrap our helmets in clouts and lift the green flag of Dzik for all I can see."
Now Meliboe threw on the surface of their talk his thought of making through to Os Erigu, as he had exposed it that night among the marshes.—No, no, cried all, it would never do, the man Mikalegon was a mere reiver and rover and his hold at many leagues of distance; but none could think of an alternate. At last Alsander:
"It is reported that after a battle all those under his standard share equally in plunder; an open-handed man." The other Carrhoenes nodded, and now one by one those present gave reluctant adhesion to the plan except Airar, who had been over this ground before and, never saying a word, sat wrapped in thought, mainly to the end of how futile this fell on his ears. So it was to be Os Erigu and join their fortunes to the Earl there, who would have them for sure, since Rogai said all the talk among the Vulkings was that as soon as ever Salmonessa became quiet, Marshal Bordvin would lead the tercias north for a blow against Mikalegon and a great conquering in the Micton lands beyond, to gain serfs for the new estates. But now arose the question of how to reach to that north country with so large a band. Holmund Horse-master had the word:
—The ways (he said) spread all east and south from the Stead of Sedu to reach the main highroad from Briella down to Marskhaun and Mariupol. There was one turning faintly east of north through a pass in the Dragon's Spine to the upper reaches of the White River, but the vale through which it ran was narrow there, with another main highroad from Briella running through it down into the Whiteriverdales and so to Naaros. It would have castellas and patrols of the Vulkings; nor would escape from that vale be easy save along its length, for north over it stood the mountains of Korsor.
—Westaway (he continued) was another gap in the Dragon's Spine, not much used by the men of Hestinga because its steep slope made it all but impassable to horses, "and you know we Hestingerne are accused of being bastard to the Centaur." At the head of the pass was a little villa alone, not much known, called the Count's Pillow, for that the ninth Vulk had laid his head there and was thought to have buried treasure; the pass takes its name from the villa.
—It led straight down into the Whiteriverdales, the route meeting indeed the Briella-Naaros highroad, but in country much broken by ravine and sudden forest, with numerous outlets through the High Hills of Froy still farther westward, where a pursuit would find it hard to follow without falling on some such ambush as that Airar had given them at the Stone Pass. (Here Holmund paused to give Airar a glance, not sorry to praise a Dalecarle by comparison with the lords of Carrhoene.)
—Once through the hills and into Shalland, they might press to the shore and find boats for Os Erigu; or bend sharp north toward Stavorna, the city aloft in the Brenderhai. The Iron Ring was strong in those provinces; they would be passed through.
"With sixty men?" asked Pleiander, his tone skeptic.
"Were not sixty brought here together?" asked Holmund, but before the other could answer again, Evimenes (who of those Carrhoene brothers concerned himself with marches and movements) began to ask about distance and where they should find victual. Young Airar schooled himself to listen, though with the back of his mind his party was being taken—he would never love woman more save chance-met—Madame Korin's girls of Naaros, the archer had said on the first day of his journeyings?
Thus it was settled; the gathering rose and, it being full moon, postponed till after meat the mustering of their little host. They were sixty-six against an Empire when the tale was all told: twenty just of the free-fishers, twenty and two of the Carrhoene sergeants including those brothers, most of the rest Mariolans, who naturally chose Rogai for their leader, or men native to Hestinga who fell under him as the better-known Dalecarle, not liking to serve a foreign standard. But three fell into Airar's band, and that night came three more from Hrappstead, very stout lads, which gave him by a little the largest of the several companies. . The next morning they set out. It was the first day of the Month of the Wolf-cub, and this was held the best of omens to Dalarna's ancient emblem, though it rained. Airar and Rogai rode together at the head of the march, with a guide of Holmund's, who saying much as the horses plodded beneath the streaming skies through a landscape rolling featureless as the long waves of an ocean. They went slow pace; yet the riders must keep a good rein to prevent their mounts from stumbling on the burrows of small animals. The free-fishers were clumsy horsemen still, even after practice during the time.
Meliboe had dropped away from them, shivering and querulous as always when the heavens frowned. On one side they passed a dolmen of piled stones, at which the guide looked up, waving a hand.
"We have little land-title here in Hestinga," he said, "but it is considered that from this point the Stead of Sedu marches with that next west. Under that monument lies the Abbot of Stavorna, who was slain here by Count Vulk the Ninth at the time of the lifting of the Lady Deodata."
It was a tale Airar had not heard and would willingly have shortened the ride with, but could not put in a question before there was a squawk and shout from behind and a horse without saddle or rider came charging past. He and Rogai both turned toward a group milling confusedly behind the curtains of rain, but Airar's horse caught a foot in a tuft or animal-hole and pitched him off on his nose with a shock that left him dizzy. A moment later Visto helped him up; while he gathered sense and felt to find himself unbroken, the hurlyburly broke out more furious than before, and Airar thought he could see someone on the ground among the horses' legs. "What's toward?" he asked.
"Some broil of the southerners."
They hastened toward it just in time to see Rogai whip out a sword and cry furiously, "If that's your mind, draw off your greasy-guts and we'll even try handstrokes."
Slim Pleiander reached to his saddle for the mace that hung there, and Erb threw himself as though to protect Evadne with upraised spear, but Airar launched at both bridle-reins, crying, "In heaven's name, have we not enough to fight without each other?" and the thing was not gone so far but that both could pause, growling like dogs. The man on the ground sat up, holding one hand to his head, the rain washing blood down between his fingers. He was a Micton and, to judge by his dress, serf.
"What's the variance, and can we not compose—" began Airar, but the girl Evadne moved her own mount forward.
"He has right, brother," she cried. "Here's one not concerned in this contention and of good thought and heart, as we have said. I propose we handsel him a judgment; or if we will not take his word, then we shall draw off our company from the rest and go another way."
Pleiander growled again in his throat and his face held a half sneer, but Airar saw his hand relax. Rogai put up his sword.
"Come," said Evadne again and reached down to touch Airar's hand. "As one of the six brothers of Carrhoene I swear to accept the judgment of Airar the Farsighted in this quarrel or else to separate our people from these Dalecarles and never to disturb them more."
Alsander started forward to do the like, when Airar drew back gulping down his heart (for these were very great people, though their present case was low) and said: "No judgment on terms. I'm honest or no; if so, will have full judgment without retreats, but if not, why, choose another."
"Here's a breeches-wet justicular," snarled Pleiander, but Evadne: "Brother, you're a poop, and he has nothing but right, for did we ourselves draw from your company when you bade us tunnel under the outer tower at Phyladea against all our own wills? For my part, I'll seal judgment to him in whatever form desired."
Evimenes followed her, Alsander after Evimenes, and Pleiander came last of all, scowling still. Rogai and one of the Hestinga men next; they too were in this cause as Airar found when he asked, and all began to talk at once, while the Micton with the bloody head was being helped by another.
Said Evimenes for the Carrhoene captains when Airar could get a clear word: "A matter of horses; we've not enough for our men
and all the package if any be lost in this pass, as seems most like, that is, no reserve. Here we met some running loose, and would take them as a dozen times before in these plains where they run wild.
Up comes this mere serf squealing and howling in a language nobody can understand and seizes our brother Pleiander's bridle, which hell not brook from any serf nor I either. So our brother dipt him, as any man of spirit would and should. Then up comes this other with Master Rogai, taking the serf's part and crying about thievery, which is a word we think too highly of ourselves to take without blood or boot."
Airar swung. "A fair statement, Rogai?"
"Aye, if it be foul to call black black, or name a thief for thieving. I—"
Pleiander gave a shout of rage and urged his horse forward again, but Airar held an outstretched hand against him and to Rogai cried: "No more of unfaming, or I call all against you! Now, sir, you whose name I do not know, what's your tale on this?"
Holmund's man rubbed a bristled chin, shining with wet. "Why, master, it's most like this outland lord make it, but he not saying Ruzi the serf told him these were not horses of the common store, but tamed to labor and so marked in the ears, and Ruzi did but seek to keep the goods of the stead, as taught."
Said Airar to the Star-Captains; "And you truly did not know the custom of these Hestinga lands that some horses are privy and hence nicked in the ear?"
Evimenes drew black brows together, but said "Honor of a soldier." Alsander lifted a hand.
"Then I find that the first fault is of ignorance, though a tort to those who have guested us well. It falls to the ground. Have you money?"
"Somewhat," answered Evimenes.
"The horses we need if you say, for you have much experience in these matters. But for each of these trained animals taken, you shall pay not less than half a piece to Holmund Horse-master's man here. Is not that a fair price?" and as the man nodded; "Whereas for the broken head of the serf, there shall be a fine of thirty ainar, paid to him."
Evadne said, her fine lip curling: "It is not the custom in our country to pay guilt-fines to slaves."
"But in Dalarna it is, for we hold a serf a man who has come to that estate more through misfortune than fault. Yet it is not our custom neither to unfame a man to the edge of blood unless blood's to be drawn, so for that there lies a guilt on Rogai toward you; and for that I fine him other thirty ainar, to be paid with such words of apology as Pleiander of Carrhoene shall ask. And this is my judgment."
All took this well and Airar was much praised for his justice throughout the band as they took to move again. But of this he knew little (since he rode with the guide and Rogai as before) till they sheltered for the night on cold food in one of those stone-and-sod huts with which the plains have been dotted by horse-masters, and Meliboe the enchanter came in. A fire of twisted grass burned, only enough to keep them from shivering; the magician worked himself into the best place before it and said low to Airar at his side:
"Now it is to be seen how far we can go together with my philosophy and your quality, fair young sir, and how little I was wrong who saw at first seeing that you would be an adroit and a lucky man. I have given you the test before them all and they see what a leader you will make if you but keep that charming boyhood simplicity."
"You put me to the test?"
"To be sure. Who do you think contrived it you should stumble out of that quarrel and so into judgment upon it? Or, for that matter, the quarrel's self? Those Carrhoenes can no more resist stealing anything that moves than an eagle can resist raping a rabbit, and someone must draw free horses under their eye."
To this Airar made no reply. He thought how happy life might have been had Gython been as kind as rude-tongued Evadne of Carrhoene.
17 The Count's Pillow: Second Tale of the Well
THE NEXT DAY was dripping still, but from high clouds that showed a desire to break in streaks. They crossed a stream running swiftly between steep banks and began to climb, with hills throwing up on either side and small patches of wood, as pine or locust. Evimenes rode up with Airar at the head of the march this day and brought his sister, whom he addressed as "brother" and "Evander." They were gay and chattering; full of tales, and it flashed across the son of Alvar's mind that those four captains might have taken counsel the evening before and found him worth conciliating. But their talk was of useless wars and politics among the Dodekapolis, mainly to the point that all in the People's Party which stood for the Imperial interest were traitors and villains.
"The dog-smellers—for it is so we call them—rule everywhere but in Phyladea now," said Evimenes, "and there's no gain for us, since Phyladea hates lovely Carrhoene and joys to see her cast down under dog-smeller rule."
"There's Permandos," said Evadne.
"Our hope for a glad tomorrow. Aye, they'll not bear it there forever."
"Bear what?" asked Airar.
"The procedures of knavish Sthenophon, whom they made their leader in pulling down the true government there, and who has made himself into a mere spadarion and tyrant, with man-slaying by order and no law. . . ." He looked up, shading his eyes. "Ha, it's in my mind the sky is breaking. Why, look you, Master Airar, his rule's a madness. Began by confiscating goods and properties from the families of the guilds that made and kept Permandos great, with their ships and caravans, putting down piracies and standing for honest dealing. But picking other men's pockets is common dog-smeller rule wherever it be. What marks this Sthenophon is that now he must run to confiscating lives, with horrid tortures, even among those who once helped him, for no other reason but that he finds their beliefs tainted by those of the party of the Guilds. A careless word at dinner, and you're for the rack."
"It was never so done among the Twelve Cities in the old time," commented Evadne.
"Nor even among these rude Vulkings," added Airar, "who let all believe what they will, so they give obedience to orders. I do not see how he's to know what's in the mind."
"No more can he. Ah well, 'twill not endure in busy Permandos, where they remember well the mild rule of the Guilds. They'll rise; and then, Evander my lad, we'll have a Permandos alliance and see olive trees again above Carrhoene."
"They grow like green smoke across the hills behind the city at the shore," said Evadne. "Hills not like these brutal and lonely mountains, but with round tops and sharp friendly angles and little bowers and springs where the heat of the day is sped with a bottle of wine and music. It may be we can show them to Master Airar one day."
Airar looked quick at that, which seemed to jangle some memory he could not fully form; but as it eluded him, said: "Sir, I beg you instruct me how it is that the Empire sustains the hold of this People's Party among your cities, whenas here in Dalarna the Imperials are all for the Lords Vulk, and down with everyone less."
"There's a good question," Rogai cut across. "Sir Ludomir Ludomirson's the only'one of the kindred ever to be received at the court. The Iron Ring brought me a word from him, by the bye, Airar—he's somewhere in Skogalang, keeping touch with the Ring in Naaros city as he waits happier times. The Vulkings have set a price on his head."
"As touching your question, I do not know," said Evimenes. "Never thought on't. Those Well-drinking eunuchs are all for order, order, peace, peace, and let nothing change but the rates of tax, and they forever upward."
Said Evadne: "May I speak a word on this, brother? For I think I may unravel it by saying you have hit the target but only at the rim. Look you—if it were but peace and order those snot-licking Imperials sought, could they not have it from the Guilds of Carrhoene or these Dalecarles in their own country? Nay, here's no desire for peace general, but peace of one kind—namely, which has no change, or conflict, or dignity but the Empire's own. Nay, for that, brother, they in Stassia know that change is never wanted by men secure in their daily bread, though they be chained to the stones that grind the meal. Where's the difference there 'twixt dog-smellers and Vulkings? Different, aye, in manners, but alike at heart
in that they put out of the world all that does not make men as sure of their places and as stupid as so many sundials."
"Ha!" whooped Evimenes. "Brother, you talk like that mangy philosopher with the moth-eaten beard." Whereat Evadne flushed red, calling him a cow-pimp with other foul names till Airar would have ridden apart from them had there been any way. But this was difficult, for their journey imposed less speed upon them, the pass having become steep indeed, the horses labored with bent heads as though dragging heavy loads, there were cries of urging among the men behind, and on either side long draws ran down toward the way from overhanging peaks with dirty snow pock-marked by rain under the trees.
There were more of these trees, now nearly all dark pine; they crossed a low ridge and, coming down the backslope, found themselves cramped by trunk and rockshelf to the very edge of a whirling mountain stream. Here their guide dismounted; so did Rogai, and Airar when he saw the experienced mountain hunter do so, though Evadne the girl sat her horse waiting with a smile that might have been half-sneer for their weakness, but that it was kind. The Mariolan picked out a pair of darts from his saddle-bow, saying that in such weather they might chance on an early bear, savage with hunger, or one of those great mountain cats that would be attracted by the smell of their horses and not hesitate to attack. Airar slung quiver over shoulder and took down his bow, holding it in one hand while he led the horse with the other.
Nothing of that sort came on them the day, but it was a hard climb and a long that brought them, come early twilight under grey skies, to a place where the way suddenly became easier and they were in a bowl of ground with peaks all round. The trees gave back; here was a meadow containing one or two trees, out of which against the dark forest on the opposite slope started a villa with two or three barns, all built peasant-like of outlandish woods, and painted: The Count's Pillow. Alsander and Pleiander came up to ride with the leaders, a goat bleated, a bell tinkled, and a man came out of the dry grass ahead.
Well of the Unicorn Page 14
