A Hero's Tale (25 page)

"I will go in with the northern chieftains," I said, "when they come to bargain for their comrades' lives."

"How will you manage that?"

I'd had no time to think it through. I grasped for an excuse. "I will go out to meet them and warn them of Elen's treachery."

Bru had sidled away from the campfire to eavesdrop on our conversation. Now he turned and joined us. "They won't believe you," he said. "And if they do, they will turn back, and that would not serve your purposes at all."

Bru gave me a few minutes to wrestle with this new dilemma. Then he said, "You can't do this alone. I think we will all go with you. We will say nothing of Elen's treachery, but will present ourselves to the chieftains as their escort. We will disarm them and take them to Elen's tent at swordpoint."

It was a bold idea. In my mind's eye I saw the whole two dozen of us, an armed escort for the northern chieftains, bringing them to Elen's tent in plain view of the entire camp. Then I saw the flaw in Bru's plan.

"Elen's guard will stop us," I said. "They don't know us. They won't allow us to go armed before the queen."

For a time all three of us sat with deeply furrowed brows, trying to think of a way around this difficulty. Then I had the first glimmer of an inspiration.

"The king's brother," I whispered. "Do Elen's guard know all his men-at-arms?"

Bru shook his head. "How can they? Some have only just arrived."

"Then we will carry the eagle banner and insist on being granted entry in his name."

"It might work," Bru conceded, willing to leave aside for the moment the problem of obtaining the eagle banner.

"And once inside," I said, "we will refuse to surrender the northern chieftains until Elen gives up her hostage, so that the king's brother can at last have his revenge."

Bru leaned forward and his fingers brushed my brow. "A subtle mind," he said. "And once Elen gives her up, will we hand the chieftains over and depart?"

"No," I said. "We must tell the northern chieftains of our plans."

"Why would we do that?"

"Because their lives are not ours to use."

Bru scowled at me. "These armies were not yours to use, and yet you used them."

He meant to touch a point of weakness. I refused to let him find it.

"At the time I had no other weapon," I said. "It was a crude weapon and bought us little more than time. The next sword that comes into my hand I would hone a little sharper."

"Ah," said Bru. "You have a plan for them. You are too subtle for me. I cannot see it."

"I have no plan for them, but to allow them to make their own plans, and to do that they must know the truth, or at least as much of it as we do."

Bru put on his stubborn face.

"If we prepare them for the possibility that Elen will not deal with them honorably, they may be willing to give us their help in return for ours."

Still Bru did not relent.

"I know you have no reason to show them any kindness," I said. "They used you shamefully, and they deceived you, but alone how can we accomplish what we mean to do? Once out of Elen's tent, how will we get away, with Elen's army on our heels? If we can somehow help the chieftains to escape, along with all the prisoners, we will be lost among the multitudes."

Bru saw right away the advantage of loosing chaos on the army of the mighty, but still he was cautious.

"We can offer them our help without giving away our own designs," he said. "How much would you tell them?"

"Everything."

"Why?"

"Because they will suspect a trick, and honesty will earn their trust. And because I am a dismal liar. It is my greatest strength."

But Bru was not convinced. "Wiser men than I taught me never to reveal my plans, not even to my friends, much less my enemies. They lied to us. Why would we treat them as men of honor."

"Because we are men of honor," whispered Finn. "Tamras is right. They lied to us, and they will expect no better in return. A lie will always out, and they will be relentless in trying to uncover it, but it is said that all tongues witness to the truth."

When Finn spoke of tongues, I remembered something that might defeat our plans.

"How can we talk to them?" I asked Finn. "I've heard their language, and I can't make head or tail of it."

"They will bring a go-between," said Bru. "Someone who speaks the language of the mighty, for all the good that does us. None of us speaks it well enough for what you have in mind."

"I do," I said. "It is my mother tongue."

Then Bru had to accept defeat. If I was the only one who could make herself understood, it was my plan that would prevail.

While I had been arguing with Bru, my plan was taking shape.

"We will have to arm the prisoners," I said, "but not too soon, not until we've found Maara." I turned to Bru. "We watched Elen's warriors plunder the dead. Their weapons must be somewhere within the camp."

"Taken by her men as booty, I've no doubt," he said.

"But Elen will have had her share. Where would they put such a great quantity of arms?"

"The baggage wagons," said Finn, "and there's nothing between the prisoners and the wagons but a little hill and a few guards."

"Would the mighty be so careless?" I asked him.

"No," said Bru, "but they would be so arrogant."

"Is it possible to see the tents from where the prisoners are?" I asked Finn.

"I believe so," he replied.

"We'll devise a signal, then. When they see it, they must rush the wagons all at once and arm themselves. What shall our signal be?"

"Well," said Bru, "we will all leave Elen's tent one way or the other. If we leave it with our swords drawn, let them come to us quickly, armed with whatever they can lay their hands on."

"And then we must all run for our lives," said Finn. "Shall we decide now which way to go?"

"South," I said. "To the north is boggy ground, as well as the king's brother's men-at-arms. To the west is Elen's house and the possibility that we may encounter stragglers making their way to the battlefield."

"And to the east is the whole of Elen's army," said Bru, "so south is where we'll go."

Bru sounded almost cheerful. Once he had accepted the idea of an alliance with the northerners, I think he found some enthusiasm for this new adventure.

"Is there anyone among us who can speak to the prisoners?" I asked.

"My son has a clever tongue," Bru replied. "He will make them understand."

I worried about Bru's son. He was so young.

"Then let him stay behind, close by the prisoners," I said. "He can watch for our signal, and they will need someone to lead them, until they join their chieftains."

Bru frowned. "He'll be sorry to miss all the fun," he said.

"There will be fun enough for all of us," I told him. "Ask your son if he will help me steal the eagle banner."

I left Bru to talk our plan over with his men, while Matha and I conspired together. The evening's rations had been taken around in great baskets by boys who looked very much like us, so we each found ourselves a basket and thus disguised ourselves as servants.

As we made our way to the other side of the camp, where the king's brother had established his own separate encampment, I made a quick study of Elen's army. The men I saw around me appeared to be all of the common folk. From their dress and from their language, I guessed that these men were like Bru's kinsmen, keeping their self-respect while making something of a living by their service. Matha confirmed my guess.

"My father's clan has kept away from Elen's house," he told me. "Other clans have not been so fortunate. Some have lost their lands. Others have lost so many of their people that they can't survive unless they join a greater house. Elen's house is where the wealth is, so there they go."

"What of Elen's people?" I asked him. "Where are the warriors of the mighty?"

Matha pointed to the campfires closest to the tents. I adjusted our meandering path so that we would pass close by them. When I got a better look at the men there, I could easily see the difference. They were better armed and better dressed, and they moved and spoke with confidence and with a swagger, as men do who are aware of their own importance.

The king's brother's warriors were much the same. Matha and I were so far beneath their notice that we moved among them as freely as we could have wished. Our plan was to locate the eagle banner and come back for it when everyone was asleep, but Matha tripped and fell against the pole that held it, sending it fluttering down into a fire pit. He snatched it out, unburnt but covered with ash. One of the men-at-arms took hold of him and boxed his ears. Matha yelped and begged his pardon.

"I'll clean it, master," he said. "I'll clean it and bring it back before first light."

The man growled at him, but let him go. Matha turned away and winked at me. He took the banner from its standard, shook it out, folded it carefully, and tucked it into his belt.

Now we had only to find a way to get in among the prisoners. Our baskets held a few loaves of bread, left over from the evening meal. Scattered among the campfires were some half-eaten loaves. I started to gather them up and gestured to Matha to do the same. When our baskets were full, we carried them to the place where the prisoners were kept.

Their guards each had a fire against the chill of the spring evening. The fires made a ring around a circle of darkness. A guard stopped us and examined the contents of our baskets, then let us pass. The light of his fire dazzled our eyes, and we tripped over several people before we could see well enough to find our way.

The prisoners reminded me of the prisoners in Merin's house. Their warrior spirit had gone out of them. They hardly noticed us, until we began handing out the loaves. Then the hope of satisfying their hunger kindled a little flame of life within them.

I saw many women among them. It had been so long since I had seen a woman among warriors that the sight of them surprised me. This much they had in common with my people.

When our baskets were empty, Matha asked for their leader, and they took us to a woman old enough to have retired from the battlefield.

Matha asked me what to say.

"Tell her their chieftains are coming in the morning," I said.

Matha did have a few words of their strange tongue, but he made himself more clear by signs. The woman seemed to understand.

"Tell her Elen isn't to be trusted," I said.

Matha scratched his head. Then he said the name, "Elen," pointed to the tents, and made signs of swords falling on the prisoners and on their chieftains. For one who hardly spoke the language, he was doing very well. Too well. A murmur of alarm went through the crowd around us.

"Quickly," I said. "Tell them we will help them."

Matha gestured to me and to himself, then in the direction of the camp, and made the sign for many. He must have found the word for help or alliance or something similar, because the prisoners grew quiet.

"Tell them we are also enemies of Elen's house," I said. "Tell them we will warn their chieftains."

Again he gestured to me and to himself and to the rest of our companions, then made a sign of swords falling on the tents, presumably on Elen and her captains.

The woman looked puzzled. She said a few words to a man who sat beside her, and he got up and left us. When I would have said something else, she gestured to me to wait.

The man was back a moment later, bringing with him two young men who addressed us haltingly in the language of the mighty. Between the two of them, they had enough words to understand me and to make themselves understood. I wasted no time trying to explain who we were and what our purpose was. They believed me when I told them what Elen meant to do with them. I laid out our plan for them and asked them to repeat it back to me, to make sure they understood it.

"In the morning you will escort our chieftains to the queen's tent," they said. "If you leave it with drawn swords, we must come to help you."

I nodded. "Matha will stay close by you and watch for our signal. You must be careful not to alarm the guards. It will seem natural to them that you will be watching for your chieftains, as long as you look like you're only waiting patiently. Don't give them any reason to suspect that you're planning something."

The young men nodded.

"Did you tell them the swords are in the wagons?" Matha asked me.

I shook my head. "I'm afraid if they know that, they will act too soon."

"Tell them I'll lead them to the weapons, once we discover where they are," he said.

I did as he suggested. As I rose to go, the woman took hold of my arm. She asked me, through the two young men, why I would help them.

"Elen holds a hostage who is dear to me," I told her. "I intend to take her back, and your escape will cover mine."

She nodded that she understood.

After we left the prisoners, Matha and I carried our empty baskets in the direction of the wagons. No one took any notice of us. When we reached them, we set our baskets down, and, like curious boys, we peeked inside each wagon until we found the ones we wanted. There were swords and spears and axes, arms enough for at least half the prisoners.

By the time we rejoined Bru, most of his men had already gone.

"I'm sending them out a few at a time," he said, "so that we are not all seen to leave at once."

Over the next hour, the rest of them wandered off, as if they were looking for others they might know, and while no one watched but me, they slipped into the darkness. Bru and I were the last to leave. Bru whispered a few words to his son, who handed him the eagle banner and went to find himself a place closer to the prisoners.

When we were beyond the reach of firelight, I heard a night bird call. Bru led me toward it, and there we found our companions. To follow the trail left by the northerners' retreat, we had no choice but to pick our way through the battlefield. The moon, half-hidden by mist that drifted not far above our heads, cast an eerie light over the bodies of the fallen. The back of my neck began to prickle, and it was all I could do to control my imagination. The more I tried not to think of them, the more I saw their spirits taking shape in the mist. Then something moved at the edge of my vision, a shimmer of silver in the moonlight.