Exile to the Stars (The Alarai Chronicles) (55 page)

Dismounting
quietly, he sneaked up behind Carl as he was about to enter the residence.
Pulling his hat low, Jeff tapped him on the shoulder.

“Excuse
me, sir, could you tell me the way to Tacoma?”

Balko
had tagged along for the fun, and was all eyes and ears as Carl turned. At the
same instant, Carl saw the shadowy figure of a bearded, travel-worn stranger
and a great wolf.

Letting
out a startled “Yargh!” he leaped backward and nearly fell. Regaining his
footing, Carl’s next comment was somewhere between a snarl and a laugh.

“By
all that’s holy, Jeff, don’t do that. You nearly gave me a heart attack!”
Laughing delightedly, he grabbed Jeff in a fierce hug. “Damn it’s good to see
you again! Shit, I can hardly believe it! Thank God!”

“I
can’t tell you how good it is to be back, Carl. Nine months! So much has
changed!”

“You
got that right, boyo.”

Cynic
remembered all the teasing he had suffered from Carl on their way north from Astholf
and expected nothing less on this occasion. Not wanting to disappoint him, Carl
flung a sly hello that immediately set the horse’s teeth on edge.

“Now,
how about introducing me, Jeffrey? I don’t recall meeting this youngster.”

“Love
to. Balko and I have been through a lot together.”

Once
introductions were complete they moved to the stable. Cynic grumbled about
impudent two-legs but was not slow to sweep up a mouthful of grain when Carl
poured a generous portion into his trough.

At
the door to Ethbar’s home, Carl tried to envision the counselor’s reaction when
a wolf greeted him in his parlor. Carl glanced at Jeff. No, he thought, make
that two wolves. He was still trying to come to terms with the changes that had
occurred since parting in the fall.

Jeff’s
beard was dark red and grown to mid-chest level, his hair of similar length and
gathered with a leather thong into a ponytail. Although Carl had never seen
Jeff with a beard, that wasn’t the change he was trying to pin down—there was
something else that seemed hard and wild.

They
were about to enter the parlor when Carl mentally kicked himself and stopped.
“Wait up a minute.” There was something Jeff needed to know at once. “There’s
no easy way of saying this. Zimma isn’t here, Jeff. She and Belstan left over a
month ago on a trip to the west coast.”

The
smile of anticipation on Jeff’s face disappeared in an instant. His expression
revealed a flash of raw anger then became distant and cold. For an instant Carl
saw it again, saw that something in his eyes.... Whoa, Carl thought, never seen
that before. Some really heavy shit must have come down this winter.

“She
was really getting excited about your return,” Carl ventured, “but Belstan was
in a tight spot and she couldn’t say no. There simply was no one else with her
experience free to go. Rengeld sent a mounted troop along for protection.”

“People
come, people go.” When Jeff looked at Carl, his features had softened. “Scratch
that. I really miss Zimma terribly. It’s been a tough winter.”

“I
can see that.” Carl gripped Jeff’s shoulder. “It’s more than good to have you
back.”

They
entered the parlor at the same moment as Ethbar. At the sight of Balko, he
stopped abruptly. Although an experienced statesman who by necessity rarely
revealed emotion, Ethbar’s expression on this occasion was openly shocked.

“While
I have greeted many strange and wondrous guests in my home, this exceeds
everything that has gone before! How wonderful!”

Insatiable
curiosity urged Ethbar toward Balko. Caution stopped him several yards short.
He had seen big dogs before, but they seemed no more than puppies in
comparison. Jeff noted Ethbar’s uncertainty, understood it completely, and
spoke with Balko.

“This
one is a wise elder of the two-legs. He does not have mindspeak but is a wolf-brother
in his heart. May he touch you in place of speech?”

“This
one senses the wisdom you speak of, and feels great respect. He may.”

“Ethbar,
this young male whom I have named Balko is a part of my heart and gives you
greetings. My brother will accept your touch on his shoulder as acceptance into
your home.”

Confronted
with a great wolf and a young man grown wild during his winter’s absence,
Ethbar gamely drew near. Gingerly, he placed a hand on Balko’s back. Somehow
not feeling silly at all, he bowed.

“My
house is yours.”

Stomachs
were empty and suitable fare was found for all. Later they took seats by the
fire, Balko stretching his six feet of length on the carpet next to Jeff. A few
polite questions from Carl and Ethbar distracted Jeff from thoughts about
Zimma. Rising, he walked around the parlor for a period tying to put some order
to the winter’s events.

“I
don’t really know what to say, or perhaps how to say it. A Telling is one
thing, fashioned as it is for northern warriors, fashioned of the stuff that
makes up their lives and dreams. Yet there are things I experienced that they
take for granted but will never leave my memory, and other things I have shared
with Balko and his mother that they will never know.”

Sitting
down, Jeff rested his chin on a hand. “The land still holds my soul fast. How
do I speak of a silence so vast that one is at first crushed then consumed by a
need to understand what it offers? Of a sweep of forest that goes on and on
until it fades into mists that have no beginning and perhaps no end? Of the
eagle’s cry that calls one ever higher to gain comprehension of the whole? And
yet I could not comprehend though the risk of falling to my death seemed a
small price to pay for such knowledge.

“And
the mountains! Their beauty and power were such that my eyes could not long
bear their presence. Yet it is the silence that I remember. At first it was a
thing to be feared, now I deeply regret its absence. Of a morning, the land was
so still I could feel the earth awaken and greet the sun. Be assured that I do
not speak figuratively—it did awaken.”

Jeff
had invited Carl into his mind. He found a seat high on a rock pinnacle that
looked over a valley clothed in green and white that was so deep and wide that
the trees seemed no more than a lush carpet. The air was so clear that Carl
felt confident that, if he strained his eyes, he might see forever. Following
an eagle as it spiraled into the morning sky, he caught his breath when the
sun’s first rays set it ablaze with light.

“Well,”
Jeff sighed, “Perhaps all that can be done is to begin and see what comes of
it.”

One
by one, Jeff picked up the threads of his journey and was soon lost in their
weaving. The story was long, and his voice drifted in quiet reflection. When he
became silent for the last time, the fire had died down to embers.

They
sat without speaking for some time. Carl had deliberately lost himself in the
hanging valley Heideth had described, and hoped to remain there. Jeff found him
picking wildflowers.

“I
haven’t been here either, buddy. We’ll make it one of these days.”

Slumped
down in his chair, Carl jumped to his feet and hurried to put wood on the fire.
He made no attempt to hide the emotion on his face. Ethbar cleared his throat
so he could speak.

“The
hour is late. Let us go to our rest and meet again on the morrow so that we, in
our turn, may relate what has occurred in your absence.”

A
good night’s rest and all were once again assembled. Jeff was still not
adjusted to being back in civilization and felt closed in, although a hot bath
made up for a lot. Balko, on the other hand, was thriving on the novelty of
everything around him. He prowled the house from one end to the other in a
constant state of bemusement. Ethbar had warned the servants, but Balko followed
his nose into the kitchen and caught the staff by surprise.

Jeff
was chatting with Ethbar when he heard the clang of pots hitting the floor,
followed by terrified shouts and shrieks. He flew out of his chair and ran to
collect Balko. It was some time before the cooks were tracked down, the mess
cleaned up, and what was left of breakfast set on the table. Ethbar was still
chuckling to himself when a disgruntled cook brought coffee. It had been a
wonderful morning.

“I
am loath to break the spell of high spirits introduced by young Balko, but fear
that I must. Rengeld is in the field recruiting soldiers and scouting potential
points of resistance to the Salchek. Agents returned from the south report that
Khorgan did capitulate as expected, was then sacked and its ruling council
executed. Not surprisingly, Astholf fell two months after Khorgan.”

“It’s
a small city. Without Khorgan they didn’t have a chance.”

“No,
and this fact was not lost on Astholf citizens. What will surprise you, I
believe, is not that Belstan and Rogelf arrived at our gates, but that a large
number of Astholf’s merchants and craftsmen accompanied them. Never has Rugen
greeted such a caravan, and I can tell you there was much rejoicing in the
streets.”

Envisioning
the scene, Jeff smiled. “Knowing Belstan and Rogelf, I imagine they put on
something of a show.”

“Yes,
indeed. The city was in an uproar for several days. Unfortunately, the
gathering of nobility that Imogo arranged was another matter. How they bellowed
against the additional crop tithes! Rebellion seethed in their midst!
Unbeknownst to those ingrates, however, Rengeld had succeeded in capturing a
Salchek scouting party.

“At
the height of the most flowery and treasonous speech, one that denied even the
existence of the Salchek, Imogo paraded the chained prisoners for all to see.
Oh how those ‘nobles’ scrambled and clawed to reverse themselves!” Ethbar
paused to shake his head and chuckle at the memory. “In summary, we now have
their complete cooperation. What could be tithed from last fall’s harvest, was,
and sits in newly refurbished granaries. Crops were seeded at the earliest
possible moment this spring. If we are blessed with favorable weather, the
greatest part may be harvested in time to escape the invader’s sickle. That we
shall see.”

“What
of the traitors?”

“Their
designs and hopes were blown away like smoke when the captured Salchek were
displayed, Jeffrey. Although prisoners, the Salchek were a proud and cocksure
lot. They showed such disrespect for Imogo that it was not difficult for the
nobles to imagine their own position should the Salchek succeed. I believe it
safe to say that the disaffected faction surrounding Imogo’s cousins was forced
to reconsider treason as an alternative to creating an estate by hard work.”

“But
his cousins still represent a threat.”

“I
am afraid so,” Ethbar sighed. “While Imogo grows suspicious, they are family.
All that can be said at this moment is that we will continue to closely observe
what they do and with whom they speak. Perhaps they will choose to openly
oppose Imogo, then we will act.”

Much
more was discussed, but Jeff’s primary interest for the rest of the morning was
in getting caught up on what had happened in Rugen after the caravan’s arrival.

He
was relieved to learn that Belstan and Rogelf had succeeded in gaining the
assurances they required from Imogo. Rogelf had departed east with the first
thaw to set up trading posts while Belstan and Zimma undertook the trip to
Borstel on the west coast.

“Zimma
was in good health and spirits when they left? The winter was hard.”

“Her
health was fine, Jeff,” Carl said. “Never even caught a cold the entire winter.
And her spirits? It was hard on Zimma to leave knowing you would be back soon,
but she handled it okay as far as I could see. I think Belstan was really upset
that he had to recruit her. As I said earlier, there was no one else to fill
the bill.”

“Your
Zimma is a remarkable young woman, Jeffrey,” Ethbar commented. “Be assured that
ever were you in her heart and thoughts. The young dandies that attempted to
abate her devotion to you were quickly sent packing, I can assure you. A more
fiery spirit I do not recall.”

Thinking
back on their first meeting, Jeff could only smile agreement. At the same time,
an image of Magda hovered close in his mind. Unbidden, he remembered their
frequent lovemaking in the sauna and forest, or quietly in the lodge while
others slept. They were wonderful memories, but also quite uncomfortable ones
in light of what Ethbar had related about Zimma.

Carl
suggested he show Jeff what he had been up to rather than describe it. Thankful
for the opportunity to break free of the house and the guilt he was feeling,
Jeff promptly agreed. Once on horseback, Carl was quick to appreciate the
advantages of having a 200-pound wolf tagging along. As they trotted along city
streets, a wedge of space seemed to miraculously open in front of Balko.

“How
did you do it?” Jeff gestured around the reasonably clean street. “Where’s all
the garbage?”

“Becoming
compost, my friend,” Carl responded. He rolled his eyes for effect. “What a
mess, pun intended. I finally got Imogo to shake lose some change for a test
collection area over in the craft section. Folks really liked having clean
streets and weren’t shy about saying so, but with all the money flowing out of
city coffers in the war effort Imogo just wouldn’t go for it citywide. How do
you convince someone in a feudal society that clean streets mean fewer deaths
and a more productive city? It doesn’t make any sense to them. So I threw in the
towel and quit trying, at which point the craft people got organized and raised
hell. By the time it was over, everyone wanted their section clean, too.”