I chose fruit and berries, and handed him a plate. We ate together. After amenities, we excused our servants and followers. Even Elryc I sent away, with a promise that I’d tell him all.
Rustin, ever vigilant, sat in the corner. His eyes never left Groenfil.
“So, Rodrigo. Why summon me with harsh speech? I was arranging suitable welcome for—”
“The demons’ lake with such foolery!” I rode over his shock. “I’ve no soft words for you. Mar tried to kill us and failed. Are you his man?”
“Rodrigo—”
“Are you his?” My voice was ice.
“Margenthar wed Renna, my sister.”
I waved it aside. It counted, but not for all.
“Times are troubled, Rodrigo. One seeks allies.”
“Strange that you spurn me.”
Groenfil took a cluster of grapes, set it aside, chose a larger. He said carefully, “I spurned you neither by word nor deed. Am I sheltered snug in my keep, my gates barred to you?”
“No.” I forced myself to choose a fruit I was too agitated to swallow. “You know why I’ve come, my lord.”
At least he didn’t dissemble. “To seek my pledge, to make yourself King.” A grim smile. “Almost, I believe you merit a throne. Yesterday I’d not have said as much.” He was silent awhile. Then, “If you’d be our King, prove you know my cost.”
“You’d lose alliance with Mar.”
He nodded.
“And risk defeat with my House.”
“True.”
“What else?”
“Why, Roddy.” His smile was mocking. “You were doing so well.”
“Is this a game?”
“Isn’t life itself?”
I bowed, acknowledging his thrust. “Very well. You’d lose ... what? The power to bargain?”
He looked about, saw a bench. “By your leave?” His tone was courteous, but no more than as any guest to his host. “What could I possibly want to bargain?”
I hated riddling, and his manner raised my hackles. Still, much was at stake. I said, “Gold? Power?”
“Naught else?”
I turned my head so he could not see my flood of relief. “Land.”
His smile returned. “Well, then. Offer me what Mar cannot.”
“You have no thought for the realm?” I asked bitterly. “Or my rights as Elena’s heir?”
“None,” he said.
Good; it would make my task easier. I made my tone ingenuous. “Why, my lord Groenfil, what cannot Mar obtain for you?”
Our eyes met. “Soushire.”
I turned away, waited until the tension was palpable. “Very well,” I said.
Rustin shot to his feet. “My prince, speak with me alone.”
“Not now, Rust.”
“Roddy, I beg you!”
We strode through camp, while Tursel’s guards followed. Earl Groenfil had retired to his keep; our meet would resume shortly.
“How could you show such daring and sense on the field, yet sell your soul to this—this greedy lordling? Can the Rodrigo who led us to the crossroads and this unscrupulous Roddy be one?”
Inwardly, I smiled. “Calm yourself, before you—”
“Can’t you see how you debase yourself? What of the True? You risk your Powers!” Rust stumbled over a stone and, irked, kicked it so hard it clattered down the street. “I hate you!” Then he grimaced. “No, my Lord of Nature, that’s not so. But I hate what you do!”
“All because I agreed with—”
“You allied yourself with Groenfil against Soushire, and Soushire against Groenfil! It’s detestable. Contemptible. Despicable.”
“Steady. You’ll run out of epithets.”
His eyes were dangerous. “You mock me?”
“You mock me all the time.”
“Not in matters of ... truth. Honor.” His tone was anguished. “Roddy, how could you?”
“I’ve done nothing yet.”
“You’ve all but agreed to help Groenfil wrest control of Soushire from the Lady.”
I said gently, “Rust, come close. No, don’t glare.” I gripped his shoulders, waited until he calmed himself enough to hear. “Do you recall your fury when I bargained with Lady Soushire? I’d have explained, to ease your mind. You told me if I had not good cause, my folly would long haunt me, and you’d no need to chide me. Isn’t it so?”
After a moment he nodded.
“Let it be, you said, for the peace between us. But, Rust, I’m in your charge. I’ll explain, if you require it.”
Briefly, his head rested against mine. “My prince, I want so to trust you.” His words were barely audible.
I said carefully, “I think—really I do—that I’ve made no vow to break the True.”
We ducked under the canopy. Earl Groenfil sat waiting. “So, my lord.”
I waited. There was subtle advantage in his admitting the value of our treaty.
He seemed in no hurry. “Word’s arrived of a skirmish near Verein.” His tone was laconic.
“Men were lost, who were better spent fighting Tantroth of Eiber.”
He shrugged. “I’m sure my brother-in-law wanted only to parley.”
“By blocking the—” No. I wouldn’t be baited. “Perhaps another day it won’t be my escort camped before your gates, but his.”
“Yes.” Abruptly he was serious. “That’s why I won’t cross him.”
“Oh?” A pang stabbed at my ribs.
“I must have the autonomy of my lands, yet Caledon needs a strong monarch to repel Eiber.” He paused. “But, you see, that man might be Mar.”
“So, then?”
“I’ll support the winner between you.”
“Bah. Think you either he or I will let you straddle a pike fence while winter settles on the land?”
“Probably not.” Groenfil’s smile was cool. “I need only determine the likely victor.”
Rust said harshly, “He stands before you.”
“Naturally you’d say so, son of Llewelyn.” Groenfil’s tone was mild. “You’re his vassal.”
“I am not.” Rust stood proud. “They said you were canny, my earl. I thought you’d see the obvious.”
“Which is?” A cool wind stirred the flaps of the canopy.
“That Rodrigo’s already won.”
“Ahh, pardon.” Groenfil leaned back, clasping his hands behind his neck. “I should have known a handful of men in ragged tents, who’ve no treasury, no lands to call their own, are the victors. Though they wander from castle to fief begging victuals ... yes, it grows clearer.”
Rust drew breath with a hiss, and for a moment his back arched like a cat. “Seek you the gilt paint, or the worthy metal beneath? Look what my prince has done!”
“You said you weren’t his vassal.”
“Yet Rodrigo is my prince.” He crossed the tent, to set proud hand on my shoulder. I sat unflinching.
“What miracles has he wrought?”
“He escaped from Margenthar’s restraint, and though penniless and nearly alone, secured the support of Cumber, among others.”
I almost snorted. Elryc and Fostrow had abandoned me at Hester’s cottage. Even Rust left without a glance behind. Now he made me sound the hero.
“Yes, I’m sure Raeth’s candles sputtered in the night.” Groenfil’s tone was sardonic.
“While you cowered behind closed gates, Prince Rodrigo bearded Vessa in Tantroth’s city.”
Outside, the breeze grew stronger. Groenfil merely smiled. “To no avail.”
“In yesterday’s skirmish, he quelled Duke Mar’s forces, while holding Lord Treak of Eiber at bay.”
Groenfil raised an eyebrow. “Is your friend always so vehement, Rodrigo? He could alienate those he seeks to persuade.”
“He doesn’t like your toying with me,” I said.
Groenfil regarded us both. After a time, he sighed. “When you came, I was of a mind to send you in chains to my sister’s husband. He’d enjoy the gift.”
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“No doubt.”
“Your summons brought me out. Oh, not from fear, I assure you. But a lad capable of such a challenge deserved scrutiny.”
“And so?”
Groenfil paused. “I won’t commit to you, though my mind could be changed. As you know, I have ... requirements. First Soushire’s lands, to end our feud once and for all.”
“And?”
“Mar’s favor has value to me. Else I wouldn’t have given him my sister Renna. I won’t betray her. Should you prevail, Mar isn’t to be killed or dispossessed.”
“Ask for the Norlands, as well!” I gestured my disgust.
“We both know you’ve persuaded Cumber, and Soushire. Lord of Nature knows how much gold that took. Willem will follow the tide. Perhaps you’ve his promise as well.” He smiled. “But who else? Mar? The Warthen?”
“No,” I said bitterly, “I need you to be crowned, you know it and you mean to take full advantage.”
Rust looked shocked, and gave a minute shake of his head.
I said, “Ease thyself, Lord Rustin. We but speak what is known to us both.” Perhaps it was my high speech that soothed him. He quieted.
I turned to the Earl. “With the Warthen’s realm closed to me and Vessa dead, I need your vote, but there are demands I won’t countenance. Goad me not too far.”
“I understand. And Vessa’s not dead, by the way. Merely unseated and captive.”
“What? Mar said—” I struggled to recall. Mar hadn’t claimed outright that Vessa was killed, merely that his office was vacant. How clumsy of Groenfil to tell me.
Perhaps demons helped him and read my mind. “I told you what Mar would not, to demonstrate good faith. Because I ask more of you.” He leaned forward. “Bring me proof you’re fit to be King.”
I gaped. “Do you jest?”
His hand slapped the table, overturning the bowl of fruit. “Roddy, you were a vile brat when we visited your mother. Yet you’ve changed. Mark me, if you gain your crown I’ll pay no more taxes than before, and damn your soldiers who come to collect them. Still ...” He stood to pace. “A king too strong is a tyrant, and one too weak leads to—” He swept his arms. “Chaos. A throne in contention, and enemies coursing the realm.”
I swallowed, and forced myself to face him.
“Almost you persuade me, Rodrigo. But I would be sure. Mar has guile, but in perilous times that’s not enough. Perhaps you could free Caledon.”
“Join me.” Hope swelled.
“I await a sign. Make one.”
“Out of my tent!” I kicked aside a stool. “You play games of quest while a kingdom crumbles? May demons seize you!”
Groenfil paused at the flap. “Don’t forget Soushire’s lands. I must have those.” And he was gone, into a whistling wind.
I raged the tent, throwing aside all that was in my way. Rustin disappeared, but in a moment he was back with a cool flask of water. “My prince, quench your fires.”
“Bah. That son of a horned toad, that demon spawn, that—”
“Yes, Roddy. Drink.”
Almost, I flung it in his face, but he had a look that made me not dare. Grumbling, I took a gulp. It was welcome. I drained the flask. “Are you satisfied?”
“Almost. Sit, and speak of what you gained today.”
“His undying enmity.” I threw myself on a couch. “Look how the tent flaps crack in the wind.” It was the first I’d seen of the Power of Groenfil, and made me uneasy.
“He’s also seen you won’t abase yourself for a crown. That’s of value.”
“He’ll follow Mar, if my uncle offers more.”
“Yet he has concern for the realm. That surprises me.”
“With Tantroth roaming the hills, Groenfil’s no safer than any of us. ‘I want a sign.’ Have you ever heard such nonsense?” I brooded. “I survived, and am here. What more does he want?” I brushed away Rustin’s caress. “Not now; I’m more of a mind to bite than be fondled.”
I poured icy water in a bowl, washed my hands. “It’s lunacy to seek Groenfil’s help. Whatever I offer, he’ll ask double.” I dried my fingers on a wiping cloth, staring moodily at the basin.
“What were the limits of which you spoke? The demands you wouldn’t countenance?”
“Eh? The honor of Caledon. Anything that would destroy my monarchy before it began. We went through that with Uncle Raeth.” I rubbed my frozen fingers.
“Yet you pledged Groenfil’s fief to the garlic-eating Lady.”
“I had ... no choice.” Though I had a plan, that might yet come to fruition. Absently, I opened my hands over the bowl. The water was chill, yet it seemed to bring warmth.
“So. What sign will you bring my lord Earl?”
“He’s heard too many cradle tales.” For a long moment I was lost in reverie. “Devils take him. Better I should ...” Abruptly I withdrew my hands, stared at my palms.
After a moment Rusk asked, “Yes, my prince?”
I strode to the flap. “You, guard! Find your captain and bring him! Make haste! Rust, pack your gear; we’re leaving.” Feverishly, I paced under the canopy.
“Roddy, what is your thought? You seem deranged.”
“I won’t speak of it. Not in sight of Groenfil’s walls.” I paced in growing agitation. Had we fodder? Enough food? Under the circumstances I couldn’t ask Groenfil for provisions. “Ah, Tursel, there you are. We break camp within the hour.”
“My lord? What’s passed, that—”
“Within the hour, did you hear? Don’t gawk, get thee hence. Haven’t we tents to strike, men to rouse? Go!”
“Where do we head?”
“The way we came!”
Chapter 35
I REINED EBON AT TURSEL’S side, near the head of the column.
The captain’s tone was reproving. “You’re safer in the center of our force, my lord.” I was silent. “Sire, when will we learn the purpose of this mad dash?”
“Tonight, in my tent. How far can we ride by dark? Can we reach Seasand Road?”
“No, only another league at best.”
That night we stumbled about setting up camp, our men grumbling and dog-tired. At last we met in my tent: Elryc, Rustin, Tursel. I bade Genard and Anavar pace outside, lest anyone overhear. “Abide not so much as a crow,” I told them. “Who knows what Powers be set upon us?”
Within, we gathered around the hour candle. First, I swore them to silence, by blood oaths that frightened even me. Then I said, “Margenthar let me think old Vessa, Speaker of the City, was dead. Lord Groenfil said nay, that Tantroth holds him captive. Can anyone think why he might he of it?”
Elryc hesitated. “To fret you, for fear of what Vessa might say to Tantroth.”
“That I sought his vote? All Caledon has heard by now.”
“If it’s a lie,” Rustin said, “it serves no apparent purpose. But if truth, why would he tell us? How does he gain?”
I said, “He called it a morsel to show his good faith.”
Tursel snorted. “What faith? He’s allied to Mar by blood and interest.”
“But he wants Soushire, and Uncle Mar won’t agree.”
“Why not, Roddy?” Elryc perched on my bed, wide-eyed.
“Combined, Soushire and Groenfil would outweigh Verein. Mar won’t risk such a power in Caledon unless he wields the throne. Perhaps not then.”
“But you will?” Rustin.
“I’ll do what I must,” I said carefully. “But Groenfil’s demand confirms that he’s venal. I’d not gain my throne by his hand.” It risked the Still.
“Whose, then?”
I went to the flap, peered out. Anavar stalked past the flap, knife drawn. “No one, sir,” he said. As he disappeared around the side, Genard appeared, going the opposite way.
I turned, faced my three confederates. “Vessa.”
Tursel frowned. “Tantroth holds him.”
“In Llewelyn’s keep, I’ll warrant. It’s the strongest place outside the castle.”
<
br /> “You mean to sneak in, and take his proxy?”
I paced, my blood rising. “A small force. Forty men, say. No wagons, the freshest horses. We sweep down on Stryx, assail the keep, and take Vessa.”
Stunned silence, from all.
“We’ve surprise, we know the terrain, we have just cause. We even have Tantroth’s black garb that we stripped from their dead.”
Rustin shook his head. “Why did you race from Groenfil’s walls?”
“Caledon reeks of intrigue. The faster we move, the less chance word from Groenfil will outfly us.”
“What could Groenfil reveal?”
“That he told us Vessa lives. And, if he overheard us tonight, who could say he wouldn’t sell my plan to Tantroth?”
Rustin said quietly, “What good is Vessa to us?”
“We’ll have the votes to ratify my crown.”
“How so?”
“Are you fuddled? There’s Willem, Cumber, Soushire—”
“And who else?”
“Vessa, you dolt!”
“Vessa is unseated. What worth has his vote?”
I said angrily, “A quibble. Who would object, were I to convene Council, with him as member?”
Rust regarded me gravely. “Man might recognize your ascension. But would the True?’
My breath caught. Either way, I risked the True, and my Powers. But Vessa, rescued and in my hands, was a sure vote.
Tursel looked between us; we spoke of matters beyond his ken.
“Vessa’s all I have! His vote must be valid! Groenfil wants a miracle I can’t provide; what choice have I? We’ll seize the Speaker, and I’ll take my chance with the True.”
“Roddy, think it through. Tarry here a day, while—”
“I forbid it!” To soften my words I added, “Now the thought’s spoken, we must fly to Stryx. We left in such haste Tantroth may not yet know. With surprise, we have a slim chance. Without it, none.”
Rust looked exasperated. “We know not where Vessa is kept. Without that—”
I flung open the tent. Genard squawked in terror, retreating.
“Anavar! Come!”
My ward raced from behind the tent “What? Who attacks?”
“Inside!” I thrust him through the flap. “Tell them, boy. I’ve beaten you, oft treated you ill. Now I’d send you into Stryx, to learn where Tantroth keeps Vessa the Speaker. Will you go, and not betray me?”
The Still Page 49
