Aram looked over at Kitchell. “And you, sir. Are your young women a part of the High Prince of Elam's arrangement?”
Governor Kitchell was a large, barrel-chested man with graying hair and a silver beard who, while no longer young, nonetheless appeared strong and vigorous. At the moment, his rather pleasant features were expressionless, but his gray eyes were hard as they met Aram's and then glanced over at Edverch.
“They are,” he said in answer to Aram's question. He then studied Aram's face for a long moment, as if trying to determine the trustworthiness of this unknown prince. “What did you mean to imply by 'dungeons' and 'horror'?”
“I mean to imply nothing,” Aram replied, rather coldly. “I state that which I have seen.”
Kitchell's eyes narrowed. “Our girls are meant to improve the lot of the men of the north. This is what we have been told is the result of High Prince Rahm's arrangement with Manon.”
“You have been lied to, sir,” Aram stated flatly.
Edverch went red in the face. “You call the High Prince of Elam a liar?”
Ignoring that, Aram addressed Marcus. “Your father was High Prince of this land before the one named Rahm?”
Also ignoring Edverch, Marcus nodded slowly. “He was.”
“And did he send women north into the lands of the grim lord in his day?”
The young man was silent for a long moment. “No.”
“Why? Was there no arrangement at that time?”
Another silence, then –
“My father refused Manon's request.”
Despite his obvious trepidation at Aram's and Thaniel's presence, Edverch moved a step closer to Marcus. “Your Highness, this man has no right to ask such questions of you or to question the policies of the High Prince,” he warned.
Again, Aram stared at the tall thin general until he squirmed beneath the glare and moved away.
Then Kitchell said. “I asked you to explain your statement about dungeons, sir. Will you do so?”
Aram turned to look at the Governor of the Land Beyond the Gates. “Have you looked upon one of the grim lord's horned beasts – those that we name lashers?”
At this, Kitchell's eyes narrowed. “Is that what they are named? Yes, I have seen them.”
“Have you never wondered how they are produced?”
There was a long uncertain silence that followed this question and then Marcus went pale and sucked in a breath. “What are you suggesting, sir?”
Aram decided to be blunt. “Each of your young women can give birth but once in the production of these creatures. It is the reason that the grim lord's need is ever urgent and without end.”
“Lies!” Edverch shot out, and he slapped his short whip against his legs as if to add force to his outburst, though he did not move closer. “The High Prince would never agree to such a thing. Prince Marcus, we must leave now; we should not listen to such talk as this.”
Kitchell looked over at Edverch with hardened eyes and held out his hand, palm turned to the side, as if to keep Edverch at bay. Aram noticed that the Governor's hand trembled, but this appeared to be caused by some unknown physical condition rather than by fear. “One can only learn by listening, General,” Kitchell said, and his tone was firm, even harsh. Turning away from the general's angry display, he addressed Aram. “I have often regretted the High Prince's decision as it concerns our girls, for it was thrust upon us without consideration and with a measure of coercion. Tell me, sir, how may we know the truth of your words?”
“Go there,” Aram stated bluntly.
“Go? Go where?”
“To Manon's tower.”
Kitchell shook his head. “It is not allowed.”
Aram smiled a humorless smile. “No, I imagine not. The only ones allowed to make such a journey are those of your young men who are enslaved and impressed into driving the wagons, yes?”
Kitchell did not return the smile, but his attention was focused hard on Aram's face. “Yes, this is so.”
“Do you ever question these young men as to where they take the women?”
Kitchell's eyes slid sideways to Marcus, but that young man's attention was also fixed on Aram. “No,” Kitchell replied. “This also is not allowed, and Manon's beasts are always with them once they are apprenticed as drivers.”
Aram laughed outright at this but his eyes remained steely. “Apprenticed? Now, that is a term for slavery that I have not encountered before.”
“I have listened to enough of this,” Edverch snarled.
Kitchell looked across at him and his gray eyes hardened. “I have not.”
Marcus held up his hand. “Please, gentlemen. Edverch is right.” He inclined his head to Aram. “Forgive me, sir, but we do not know you, and your words contradict those of our High Prince.”
Aram met his eyes but made no answer, letting silence fall between them.
Marcus hesitated. “If we may, let us return to the original thrust of this conversation. Why are you here with such a force, if you mean no mischief toward Elam?”
Aram moved his hand, indicating the north. “Soon, certainly before summer, an army will come down from the grim lord, intending to kill and enslave our people and lay waste to our lands. We mean to meet it upon the plains to the north and stop it – destroy it, if possible. So we are here today to inquire as to whether you will hinder this intention of ours. In other words, does Elam intend mischief toward the alliance of free peoples as we execute the struggle with Manon?”
Marcus looked beyond him at the army arrayed to the east upon the plains. “The alliance of free peoples?”
Aram smiled a small, hard smile. “Our people are truly free. We do not give our young women to the grim lord.”
Marcus winced at this but had no answer.
Edverch, however, could take no more. Ignoring Aram, he looked at Marcus and motioned toward the rear with his hand as he began to move in that direction. “Let us go from these people, Your Highness. If they do not leave our borders, the High Prince will send forth the full strength of his forces and evict them.”
Before Aram or anyone else could respond, Thaniel swung his head around and looked at the general. “You will not move from that spot until Lord Aram releases you to do so,” he said in a voice that brooked no opposition and was delivered with such force that no human present could fail to hear it in his mind.
Marcus' eyes went wide. “It speaks!”
Aram scowled at him. “He speaks, young man. This is Thaniel of the horse people, my friend and comrade in war. His father is Lord Florm, the lord of all the horse people – a nobler and more ancient people than you will have ever known. You may speak to him if he allows it, but I warn you to do so with respect.”
“I-I meant no disrespect, I assure you, sir,” Marcus replied in a chastened tone. He was still gazing wide-eyed at Thaniel. “This – he is a horse? I've seen images of his kind in books.”
“Yes,” Aram replied.
“I thought they all perished long ago.”
Thaniel snorted in disgust. “It is your people that live small lives and die easily. I have walked the earth for more than six thousand years, and my father for much longer than that. After many centuries of ignoring your kind, we have allied with this man, Aram, for he is wise and strong and is descended from the ancient kings. Your vaunted 'high prince' is but a worm by comparison.”
At this contemptuous statement, Edverch recovered from the shock of hearing Thaniel speak, and once again went red in the face. “Horse or no – I will not listen to barbarians cast aspersions upon our noble prince. It is enough. Come, Prince Marcus, let us leave off discourse with these wild and uncivilized people.”
Edwar, who had remained silent throughout, could not abide this. “Uncivilized? I will have you know, sir, that our land is as ancient as yours, and apparently led in a much more able manner. Our Hay does not give our daughters into despair as does your haughty prince. Nay, it is you who are uncivilized.”
�
�Enough,” Edverch screamed, and he turned away. “Come, Your Highness, let us go now and report this matter to the High Prince.”
“One step more,” Aram warned him, and there was ice in his tone, “and it will be your last.”
Edverch froze, immobilized by the fierceness of Aram's voice. After a long, tense moment, Marcus cleared his throat and used Aram's title for the first time.
“Surely, my lord, there is no need to threaten.”
“It was more than a threat, Your Highness; I meant it to be taken literally,” Aram responded, holding up his hand as he turned to Thaniel. “If you will, Thaniel, fetch Mallet and bring him forward.”
“At once, Lord Aram.”
After the horse went back toward the lines, and when Marcus did not speak, Kitchell looked at Aram. “My lord, I want to return to the subject of my young women. I will tell you that our allegiance has been given to the High Princes of Elam for time out of mind, for they have protected us since ancient times. Nonetheless, we are yet our own people, and in matters pertaining to the citizens of Cumberland, we will decide for ourselves – especially since the blatant ravaging of our neighbor, Aniza, to the west, which,” he stated pointedly, looking hard at Edverch, “the High Prince did nothing to prevent.”
“Cumberland?” Aram asked.
Kitchell nodded. “Though Elam names us the 'Land Beyond the Gates', Cumberland is the true name of this land.”
He glanced at Marcus who continued to watch Aram with an unreadable expression. “We agreed to this arrangement with the northern lord because High Prince Rahm stated that the girls would be treated fairly – indeed that their lives would be much improved by an exalted status in that distant land – and that it would be necessary for just a short time. Further, we were told that it would buy the good will of him who controls the great northern plains of the world –” He stopped speaking as Aram began shaking his head.
“It will never stop, Governor. The grim lord's need for fresh wombs will never come to an end, especially since I intend to keep killing his servants.”
Kitchell's eyes narrowed. “You have slain his beasts?”
“Yes,” Aram affirmed. “Some on this very ground.”
The Governor nodded slowly. “We found their bodies and the ruined wagons. They appeared to have been slain by fire.”
“What did you do with their bodies?”
Kitchell hesitated and glanced again at Marcus. “We dragged them into the hills and burned them and said nothing. A few less of those beasts walking the earth would be a good thing, we thought.” He frowned. “But if what you say is true –“
Aram met his eyes. “It is true.”
Kitchell turned toward Marcus, but at that moment Thaniel returned with Mallet. The big man scowled at the Elamites and then addressed Aram.
“You wanted me, my lord?”
Aram indicated Edverch. “See this man?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“If he speaks again, or moves, teach him the value of silence and stillness.”
Mallet's scowl deepened. “How would you have me do that, my lord?”
Aram shrugged. “Remove his tongue – or his head, whichever pleases you.”
At this harsh and unexpected statement, every man present drew in a sharp breath. Marcus blanched and held up his hands in distress. “Sir! You cannot threaten a servant of the High Prince of Elam in this manner. You simply cannot do this.”
Aram fixed him with hardened eyes and moved near him, causing the young prince to stiffen.
Meeting the younger man's gaze for just a moment, Aram turned and nodded toward the west, indicating the lines of the army of Elam.
“That's an impressive sight.”
“Sir?”
“Your army, Prince Marcus – it's a pretty sight. Very proud and well-ordered. Shining shields and weapons, bright and clean. But I wonder –.”
When Aram went silent, Marcus immediately asked, “What is it that you wonder?”
Aram turned and looked at Marcus, and his eyes were cold and hard, causing the young prince to catch his breath. “This is what I wonder. How many of those swords have met and shed the blood of an enemy?”
Marcus had no good answer to this and didn't trust himself to speak, so he remained silent.
Aram nodded. “Still – a pretty sight. Now Your Highness, if you will, look the other way, at my army of 'barbarians'.”
Pivoting slowly, Marcus complied.
“There are swords there as well,” Aram said. “And those men and horses are well-trained also, but there is a difference. Many of those swords have tasted the blood of enemies, and some have slain lashers as well. Now if you will, look southward, toward the hills.”
In puzzled and somewhat reluctant compliance, Marcus turned and looked past Governor Kitchell and across the rolling prairie where the grasses had grown tall and thick with the advent of spring. Kitchell swung around and looked that way as well.
Aram sent a thought out into the tall grass.
On the instant, three hundred and fifty wolves rose up out of the grasslands as one, as if materializing from the earth itself. The Elamites stiffened at the sight, and one of the color-bearers let loose a small cry of alarm.
Aram was still watching Marcus. “There are six noble peoples that walk the earth, young man, and four of them – horses, the lords of the air, wolves, and men are here today, allied against him that would enslave the world. Against him that the general over there names as a friend and ally of your High Prince.”
White-faced, Marcus turned from the sight of the wolves to look at him. There was deep distress in the young man's eyes. Gazing at him, Aram liked him and softened his tone.
“We want no confrontation with Elam,” he said quietly, “but neither will we allow the blindness of your High Prince to endanger our people by increasing the armies of the enemy. Now, let me ask you to consider something,” he continued calmly. “If these two armies come together here today, which of them do you think will be standing in possession of the field at the end of it?”
Marcus turned his head and looked at the menacing line of wolves, and then he stared at Thaniel for a long time. Looking eastward, he let his gaze range down the long line of men and horses that stood opposite. After a few moments, he swallowed and met Aram's eyes.
“To be honest with you, sir, I cannot speak for the High Prince of Elam. He keeps his own counsel these days and I am not in his favor.” He glanced over at Edverch who though red faced and fuming, held his tongue in the menacing presence of Mallet. “I cannot speak for Prince Rahm,” he repeated. “But for myself, I have no intention of acting aggressively toward any of our neighbors.”
“What do you intend?” Aram asked.
Again, he glanced at Edverch. “I mean to move this army back inside the gates and report this matter to the High Prince. I cannot say what he will decide.”
Aram looked over at Kitchell. “And you, sir?”
Kitchell turned from staring at the distant wolves and shook his head solemnly. His face was ashen. “You have given me much to consider, Lord Aram.” He glanced at Marcus before bringing his gaze back to Aram. “Much. But if you do not intend mischief toward Cumberland, then we intend none back. What do you require of us in your resistance of the northern prince?” He held up a hand in warning. Despite the firmness of the man's tone and his obvious physical strength, his hand once again trembled, as if from the effects of a malady, or age. “I cannot promise aid at this time, until we discern the thoughts of Elam's Prince, and until straight answers to our questions are rendered by him.”
“I only want use of the road that passes through the gap onto the northern plains,” Aram replied.
Kitchell nodded. “Granted. None will hinder you.” Having dropped the hand, he now held it up once more. “I must warn you however, if Elam decides to act with malice toward you, then we will have to reconsider our position. I hope you understand this.”
“I do.” Aram glanced around
at Boman, Findaen, and Edwar, before turning back to Marcus. “We are finished here?”
Marcus inclined his head. “So it seems. I must report to my government concerning the events of this day.”
“And how will we know what your Prince Rahm decides?”
Marcus met Aram's eyes. “I will come and tell you myself, my lord.”
“Indeed? And do you know how to find me?”
Marcus frowned and then slowly shook his head. “No, I do not.”
Aram pointed south, toward the hills. “Come to the edge of the hills here and send a thought out into the woodlands. The wolves will hear and will bring you to me. I will instruct them to watch for your coming.”
Marcus blinked at him. “The wolves –? But how do I –?”
Aram tapped his forehead. “With your mind. Speak to them with your mind. Do not fear, they will not harm you but will bring you safely to me.”
The young prince turned and gazed at the wolves for a long moment and then slowly nodded. “I will do as you say, sir.”
“Good.” Aram inclined his head to Kitchell. “Then we will quit your borders and see to our own concerns.”
In answer, Kitchell inclined his own head silently.
Released from the imposing threat of Mallet, General Edverch moved away smartly. After a few steps he was nearly running back across the prairie in the direction of the long line of blue and gold.
As Aram and his companions were walking toward their own lines, Findaen looked around and laughed, “Well, that went pretty well, I think.”
Edwar grinned, and Boman, smiling, nodded silently.
Aram, striding along slightly ahead of the others, appeared intent on private thoughts and seemed not to notice, and so made no reply.
6.
As Manon waited on the arrival of Vulgur in the center of the great round room, he bent his thoughts upon the man Aram and more importantly, upon the weapon that he carried. A strong desire had grown in him to possess that object, to properly assess the extent of its power and then effect control over it and put it to a better use. Certainly, the weapon was enormously powerful; the incident upon the mountain had shown this to be so.
Kelven's Riddle Book Four Page 5
