“Please, my lord!”
Rustin charged out of the tent, sword drawn. Uncertainly, he lowered his blade. “Roddy?”
“Vile foreign scum! Stay away from our servants! Keep your parts sheathed, or I’ll serve them to you for dinner!”
Rust strode across the clearing, interposed himself between me and the Eiberian. “Let go the dagger, Roddy.”
“It’s all right, I won’t—”
“Now!” He caught my wrist
Sullenly, I let it fall. “I won’t go berserk.”
“You already have.” Rustin peered inside the cart, nodded. “So I thought.”
“They were—”
“It happens.” He turned, extended a hand to Anavar. “Up, boy.” He swung the Eiberian to his feet “Raise your breeches; the sight maddens our prince.”
Half in tears, Anavar covered himself, thrust in his shirt. “We just—I didn’t—it was only ...”
“Easy, lad.” Rust clapped his shoulder. I swallowed; I hadn’t meant to harm the boy. Well, perhaps I had, but I’d mastered myself now, and—
“Roddy, run down the line, check all the campfires. Other soldiers may be lying with women.”
“Don’t mock me!”
“What else am I to do? Go to the tent.”
It was a way out of my embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Anavar.” I fled.
A few moments later Rustin slipped inside, tied the drawstring. “No doubt he’ll remember the occasion.”
I sat with head in my hands. “It’s just ... he’s so young. He’s free to frolic in the night, while I only ...”
“Only have me. Tact, Roddy, is one of your lesser virtues.” He sat by my side. “Is that a smile, hiding under the pout?”
“Oh, Rust.” I was near tears. “Is the True worth it all?”
“Answer yourself.”
“The kingdom’s dissolving, and I’ve certainly not wit enough to hold it together without our family wisdom. I know that, but ...”
“You want a woman.”
“Desperately.”
A long silence. When we returned to bed, we lay apart.
Verein was many leagues through the hills, far from the sea, well east of the tablelands of grain that fed Castle Stryx.
Recovered from my misadventures, I rode peaceably with Rustin and Elryc. The day was clear and cloudless, and Tantroth’s black sails far from sight.
Under strict orders to refrain from pillage, our troop passed through the few hamlets that sprouted amid the rocky farms. Seeing we were in good order, folk came out from their rude houses to watch the procession. Almost, I donned the crown to show them splendor they’d not soon forget. But I knew it would be presumptuous, and might offend the True.
“Only one thing could ruin this day,” I joked. “Coming upon Hester and her creaking cart.”
“Think you she came this way?” Elryc studied the road, as if for ruts.
“How other?” By her years of service and her wild antics in departing Stryx, Hester had made herself too well known to pass again through the town; she’d make a wide detour. So our path might indeed be hers.
When Fostrow, Anavar, and I had circled the ravines behind the castle to slink into Stryx, we’d dared sneak close behind the stronghold, prepared to flee at the crack of a branch. Now, in paradox, though we were stronger by far, we must give the walls wider berth. It would not do to confront in force either Mar’s loyal troops or those of Tantroth.
Hour after hour we trudged, and at night our campfires dimmed the blanket of stars. By day Tursel sent scouts ranging for provender. They were ordered to buy foodstuffs with Earl Cumber’s stipend, rather than seize provisions, but I doubted all would. How were we to know the provenance of a lamb, or a brace of chickens? Such were the ways of war. Churls expected it.
As sun was fading, we found ourselves well past Stryx, entering the region of Verein. I asked Rustin, “Should I breathe easier when we’re within a league from Mar’s stronghold, in the province of his safe-conduct?”
Rust was half dozing in the last rays of afternoon. “Always breathe easy, my prince.”
Elryc said, “Not so, brother.” He shifted in his saddle. “Can you imagine Mar wishes us well?”
“Not really.”
“Nor I.” He patted his mount’s flanks, guided her away from roadside brush. “Look.” He lifted his cloak, showed me the small sharp dagger within.
“What of it?”
“If Uncle Mar plays us false ...” He licked his lips.
I said lightly, “I’m sworn to protect you. If not, Hester will turn me into a toad.”
“I won’t be taken like Pytor, Roddy.” His eyes lifted to mine, as his hand flitted to the blade. “It’s for me, as much as them. I’ll end myself first.”
“Elryc!”
He shivered. “On the battlements of Stryx, hidden in that cursed barrel, I had little to distract my thoughts. Visions of a rope tightening around my throat, or an unseen knife in the night ... no!”
“When we meet I’ll keep you and Uncle Mar apart, in the tents. He won’t even know you ride with us.”
“Of course he’ll know; did I cover my face when we cantered through the hamlets? Besides, I can’t hide myself and take part in your counsels.”
“You’re too young to—” I sighed, biting off the rest. Someday, I’d learn not to make rash promises.
At last, late the next morn, we saw the pennant fluttering from the high tower. I bade Tursel call a halt “Send an envoy, with the usual ornate greetings. We’ll meet my uncle on the field.”
Rustin stretched. “I have another thought. Invite him to our camp. With full safe-conduct, of course.”
“Ha.” My mouth twitched. “Neatly done, and he’d be livid.”
“If he’d accept.” He pondered. “We might squander days while envoys rode back and forth to bargain the conclave. Each day heightens our peril. And supplies will run low.”
“Well, then.” I smiled sweetly. “Tell him he’s our host, and must feed us.”
“Only if you come to the castle, he’ll say.”
“We refuse, and learn how much he desires a meeting.”
“Ah, Roddy.” He ruffled my hair. “You learn your craft.”
Mar was furious. We’d agreed to meet at Verein, he responded, and that meant in Verein. Not in a damp tent perched in a plucked cornfield, not in a bivouac guarded by Earl Cumber’s louts. Soft beds and refreshments awaited, and we’d do well to use them, or depart.
Elryc, Rust, and I huddled in conference. Very well, we replied. We would depart.
In that case, why had we traveled so far to see him, Mar inquired.
At his own invitation, we reminded him. But we were short of supplies, and unless he provendered my royal guard, we’d have no choice but to decamp. Not true, of course.
Duke Margenthar sent a wagonload of turnips.
We promptly struck our tents, and moved north a full league before Mar’s envoy caught us. At my order, we heard his speech on horseback, riding ever north. The Duke would meet us in tent, field, or whatever place of my choosing, under my safe-conduct guaranteed him by the True.
“We won the first skirmish,” said Rustin. “But try not to gloat.”
And so, a full day after our arrival, we faced Margenthar, regent of Caledon, over a cook table borrowed from a supply wagon, in the shade of a hastily raised canopy.
“You summoned us, Uncle?” My tone was insufferably sweet, and Rustin frowned a warning.
“It’s something less than a summons,” Mar said dryly. “Nonetheless I’m glad you came.”
I waited.
“Let’s not spar,” he said.
I made a gesture of assent.
He looked to Rustin, and past the tent pole to Fostrow and Tursel, who watched him as a pair of falcons would a mouse. “I’d speak with you alone.”
“To what point? I’ll reveal all to my counselors.”
“Nonetheless.”
I looked to
Rustin, and shrugged.
Rust came to his feet in a graceful motion. “I’ll withdraw, my lord Duke, when I’m satisfied you hide no blade.”
Mar’s affable smile vanished. “Dare you question my honor?” The back of his neck flushed red.
I said, “It’s all right, Rust. Go.”
“My prince, I will not obey you in this.” Rustin stood his ground. “And don’t glare so; I don’t much care that you’re incensed.”
I made a helpless gesture. “I’m sorry, Uncle.”
Holding his fury barely in check, Mar permitted Rustin to examine his person. In a moment Rust bowed low, and left us.
Mar’s teeth were clenched. “You’d be King and can’t control a vassal?”
“He’s no vassal.”
Mar breathed deep, restored his calm. “Let’s walk a few paces.” He led me on a random path across the field. “Roddy, our views differ strongly, as you know. I grant you’ve sustained yourself in opposition better than I foresaw.”
“Thank you.”
“But Raeth’s largesse won’t last forever; he’s notoriously tightfisted. You look surprised; think you I don’t know every step you’ve trod, and each word you exchanged with Cumber and Soushire?”
“What is it you want?” It was all I could think of that admitted nothing.
“To make common cause.” He turned, started us back toward the canopy. “We’ve lost Llewelyn’s keep, and that imperils Stryx Castle. Half our troops are bottled within; the others dare not leave Verein unguarded. You hope Tantroth will depart with the winter winds, but take my word he won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“How do I know Prince Elryc is concealed scarce twenty strides from our tent, and advises you? How do I know Vessa’s office is now vacant?”
“Is what?” The meadow reeled.
“Tantroth is less informed than I, and couldn’t take the risk you might acquire the fabled Still. As you may now deduce, your quest to obtain votes to end the regency is hopeless.”
I said nothing, yearning for Rustin’s guidance.
“By the way, Vessa wouldn’t have joined you, whatever your offer. He only hoped to draw out your terms.”
“So you say.” Immediately I regretted it, but his darts had provoked me.
“Roddy, answer in truth: Do you wish Tantroth to take the hill of Stryx?”
“Of course not.” That, he already knew.
“Submit—no, let me phrase it as I really mean. Cooperate with my regency. Together we can compel the aid of Cumber; Raeth might offend one of us but wouldn’t dare wound us both. With his strength added to ours, Soushire’s scheming is neutralized. You are aware, aren’t you, that Soushire’s been in touch with Tantroth on three occasions?”
I tried to let my face show nothing, and no doubt failed.
“It will be a regency in name only, Roddy. I’ll consult with you on policy. I admit I spoke harshly to you, and treated you as a boy, but you’ve shown that’s no longer suitable.”
“In that case, crown me now.”
“May I speak openly, assured that it will go no farther than your tent?”
I nodded.
“The Warthen has sons, and rests uneasily in the vassalage of Caledon. He’s thought of the crown for his own line. And Lady Soushire entertains wild dreams of a strike at the castle.”
“So?”
“They bear the situation, because it is fluid. Your coronation would dash their fantasies. It might provoke them to rash and desperate acts.”
“If that’s so, why didn’t you tell me when we spoke of the regency?”
“While the Council sat, and you of a mind to blunder in and blurt everything you’d been told? I didn’t want them aware how much I knew.”
“But I’d have the Still.”
“Yes. Unfortunately, it’s a trifle overrated.”
It stopped me dead in my tracks. I fastened on his face.
“Remember that Elena was my own sister. She always made of the Still more than it was, to impress the common folk.”
“The Powers—”
“Oh, there’s mild power of compulsion. You could probably use it to make Rustin scratch his privates at a state banquet, and be unaware of the offense. It doesn’t operate at much of a distance.”
“You lie!”
“You’ll see, when the time comes.”
Confusion welled, but I waved it away. “The true Power of the Still is the collective wisdom of Caledon’s—”
“Would you know how Elena described it? A vague presence, a hint of awareness of the land. No crafty ancestors guiding her very thoughts. Just ... a brooding presence.”
I cried, “Great houses have great Power! Claim you that Caledon is a petty earldom, with Powers so paltry—”
“Varon of the Steppe, my grandfather and Elena’s, seized Caledon and Eiber too. They were his fiefdoms.”
“Our Power was diminished in that?”
“If ever it was greater.”
I was near tears. “Why would Mother lie?”
“Don’t you know, Rodrigo? Think.”
“It’s too much.” My mind was a whirl, so much so that I even admitted it to him. I glanced to the tent fifty paces hence, and craved to rush to Rustin. “Tell me.”
“Why, it’s plain,” he said. “So that others would fear the Still. By holding it as threat, she outwitted her adversaries, and made good her claim to Caledon.”
If he spoke true, I’d been the fool these four years or more, ever since I’d become able. I blinked back tears. “And you told me not?”
“For the same reason Elena held her tongue. Even if you didn’t cry the news from the battlements”—I flushed—“you’d have rutted through the keep like a stallion in a pen of brood mares, and all would have known you’d never claim your Power.”
The sunlit field seemed to circle me gently. I forced my thoughts to what I knew. “Uncle, if this is so, show me good faith.”
“How?”
“Give me Pytor.”
“Lord of Nature, are you mad?” His eyebrow rose, hung quizzically. “You, Elryc, and Pytor, three noble brothers united? How long would you live? Hours? A week?”
“What say you?”
“Separated, you each have worth as players in the game of state. If Tantroth—or anyone whose interest is counter to yours—knew you three shared a camp, he’d lunge, and put to an end the House of Caledon.”
“Then let me send Pytor—”
“No, Roddy, this goes beyond the crown. For what I owe your mother, I shall not cause your deaths. Trust my wisdom.”
“Let me see him!”
“Of course. He’s within the walls, guarded from harm. You’ll recall I invited you—”
“Bring him hence!”
“No. Some spy might alert our enemies.”
Stung, I cried, “If you know so much, why did Llewelyn betray our House?”
His face turned grave. “Ah, that I don’t know.” A twitch of a smile. “You see? I’m not all-powerful.” Gently, he guided my arm, and again we walked. “He’ll be made to pay, even if he’s your Rustin’s father.”
“Of course.” Casually, I wiped an eye, hoping Uncle Mar wouldn’t know the cause. “Why has Tantroth attacked neither Stryx Castle nor Verein?”
It was his turn to stop, and for a brief moment his face betrayed his surprise. “You truly don’t know?”
“I’m not clever enough to play such games,” I said bitterly. “He seized the town, stole the keep, and halted. Why?”
“It’s you, Roddy.” He waited for my comprehension, saw none. “You escaped the castle, and ride hither and yon stirring up the nobility. Without Llewelyn’s keep the castle is indefensible; Tantroth has no hurry. If Tantroth attacks Stryx forthwith, or Verein, he forces your hand. He waits to end his uncertainty before committing his troops to battle.”
“But ...”
“Even if he hadn’t heard of your mad scheme to beard Vessa, he’d have guessed you
’d try. He hoped to capture you himself. Failing that, he waits to see with whom you’ll ally yourself.”
I gaped. “What does he fear?”
“Why, the Still, what else? Remember, in the whole realm none but you and I know it is less than it seems.”
“No more!” I turned toward the tent. “I’ll speak with my advisors.”
“Roddy, listen!” He caught my arm. “Forget for a moment that our aspirations disjoin. I took great risk telling you the truth of the Still. If you breathe of it to the others, all the realm will know within a fortnight. Let the Norlanders but learn of it, and Caledon will be lost. Eiber’s might is a paltry shadow of theirs.”
“How can I—” I thrust off his arm, strode to the tent. “I won’t hear more, until I’ve time to think.”
“Take heed.”
“I won’t tell them. Not yet. Rustin!” I beckoned. “See my lord Duke has refreshment.”
Rust bowed in acknowledgment. “Of course.” His tone was sardonic. “Perhaps a warm bowl of turnip stew.”
I growled something unkind, fled to my tent, closed the flap.
By the time Elryc looked in, a few moments later, I was near frenzy. He asked what had been said. I told him what I could, pacing from pole to pole, sitting on the bed, jumping up to pace anew. Though I yearned to, I said nothing of the Still.
“I wonder,” he said, “how Uncle knew about Vessa.”
“Walls have ears.” And so did tents. I threw open the flap, rushed outside, raced around the tent.
None lingered near.
I fell again on my bed. “A regency seems wise, if you look at it from his view.” If the Still was nothing, why hasten to don the crown?
“Roddy, take a rake, and separate grain from chaff.”
“It’s a cornfield we’re near, not a—”
“Don’t be so literal. In what Uncle says, I meant. Let’s divide lies from truth.”
“He told me other things,” I blurted, before I came to my senses and pressed my mouth shut. Had I been overheard? I ran outside, peered around the tent poles.
Elryc’s look was intent. “What more?”
“Nothing you need know.” I realized how surly I sounded, knew I didn’t need another enemy. “I’m sorry. When I need counsel it will be yours I seek.”
The Still Page 46
