Burning Tower (14 page)

C
halker was waiting with the chariot and a wagon. “Good to have you back, My Lord.” He gave a warm smile to Burning Tower. “My Lady. And you'll be the new wizard?” he asked Clever Squirrel. He didn't say that she looked too young, but it wasn't hard to guess what he was thinking.

“Yes, but I'm not a wizard,” she said. “Just a caravan shaman.”

Chalker's fixed grin relaxed a bit. “Good to see you, Lady Shaman. You'd best come quick, though.”

“Why?” Sandry asked.

“Bird's doing poorly,” Chalker said. “Won't eat. Getting droopy. Maybe the cold iron cage, but we've been a bit nervouslike about letting it out of there!”

“Don't blame you. We'll go directly there, then.” Sandry leaped into the chariot and invited Clever Squirrel up beside him.

Burning Tower climbed into the wagon beside Chalker, looking disappointed.

Sandry clucked the horses into motion. Dusk was falling, and he had to pay attention to the road. When he glanced over at his passenger, he could see that Squirrel was studying the houses of Lordstown and missing nothing.

 

“We're here,” Sandy said. He waved to the guards at the Lordshills gate and the chariot clattered inside to the guardhouse where they kept the bird. “Still alive?” he asked when the door was opened.

“Yes, My Lord. It won't eat. Don't think it will drink anything either. We even tried a live rat, but it wouldn't touch it.”

The room smelled like a chickenhouse. No one had cleaned up the bird's droppings, but Sandry couldn't blame them for that.

Clever Squirrel nodded to the guards, and went over to the cage. She squinted, then, as her mother had, she sat in front of the cage with half-closed eyes. Finally she stood. “You'll have to let it out,” she said.

“Ma'am?” the guard was incredulous. “Ma'am, you know how much trouble we had getting that thing in there?”

“I can appreciate that,” she paused, “Henry son of Eric.” The guard looked startled. “But it's important that I examine it without the cold iron around it, and before it is dead.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Henry said. “Taric. Lief. We got work to do.”

Whenever one of the guards got close to the cage, the bird would shake itself out of its lethargy and snap at him. Eventually, by working in pairs on opposite sides of the cage, they managed to get a rope around the bird's feet. They tied it off to hobble the bird, then they passed more ropes in until they had a pair of them over its neck. “Want us to take this show outside?” Henry asked.

Sandry considered it. “If it gets loose, better it just kills us than runs around in the town,” he said.

“Well, yes, sir, but there's not a lot of room to work here,” Henry protested, but he ran over and took out the toggle holding the cage door shut. The door swung open, and the guards tightened the ropes. The bird looked outside at freedom, stood still for a moment, then darted out. Its jaws snapped on air a foot from Henry's nose.

“Perks up something wonderful,” Henry said, “My Lord.”

Clever Squirrel gestured. Nothing happened. Sandry looked the question at her. “Calming spell Morth taught me,” she said. “Didn't work. Let me think.” She gestured again.

That really set it off. The bird pulled, hard, so that Sandry took the rope alongside one of the guards. They held it as it tried to get at Clever Squirrel.

“It hates Coyote,” she said. “It really wants to do something to hurt Coyote.” She gestured again. “And it hates you.”

After a while she nodded. “You can cage it again. Or kill it. There's nothing else to learn.” She looked puzzled. “There's just nothing there. Blazes? It reminds me of your father. Most human beings have a natural trace of magic, but Whandall never had anything. Just a blank ready to be filled.”

 

The Congregation was held in the Registry Office at Peacegiven Square. Lord Quintana himself presided over a dozen Lords Witness in their dark robes and tight caps, with more clerks and servants than Sandry had ever seen outside the main courthouse in Lordstown. Five squads of Lordsmen stood guard outside with a dozen chariot-class Lords and Younglords with horses harnessed and ready, spears and spearmen standing next to the chariots.

“Putting on a show to impress my brother?” Tower asked.

Sandry shrugged. “Could be, but we don't usually do things that way.”
And more likely to impress the Lordkin with how seriously we take all this,
he thought.

Green Stone spoke first, telling the Lords all he knew of the birds. “They have never been common,” he concluded. “Until this year I had never seen more than one at a time, and never more than one in a year.”

Burning Tower was next. Sandry was proud of her. She was respectful but firm. Her deference could as easily be because of her youth as because of her station. “When Twisted Cloud examined the bird, she found nothing,” Tower concluded.

Lord Quintana nodded. “Thank you, young lady. And we have heard the testimony of the Sage Egmatel to the same end.” He nodded to the clerk.

“Thank you, lady,” the clerk intoned. “We now call the learned sage Clever Squirrel.”

Sandry grinned without showing it as Burning Tower came down to sit next to him.
Young lady
sounded enough like the proper title for a Lord's daughter of Tower's age, and
learned sage
was impressive. Sandry could hear the absence of capital letters in the clerk's voice, but none of the kinless and Lordkin present could. They were treating the Bison Tribe leaders as visiting Lords, near enough, and making a show of it at that.

“Welcome, learned one,” Quintana said. “And the thanks of the Lords Witness for your help in this matter. You examined the bird closely?”

“I did, Lord,” Squirrel said.

Tower nudged Sandry. “Never heard her be that respectful before,” she whispered.

Her breath was sweet. He wondered about his own, and grinned slightly at his own concern. “Not much choice,” he whispered. What else could Squirrel do? Which was the point of all this, he supposed. The Lordkin and kinless were watching….

“…and after it was removed from the cold iron cage, I could feel its rage,” Squirrel was saying. “Rage against my father Coyote, rage against the wagon trains, and rage against you, My Lords. That last was harder to determine, but it was there. The birds hate you no less than they hate me.”

“Or that one did,” Lord Quintana observed. He said it carefully—a conclusion, not a contradiction. Clerks wrote furiously.

“I think all of them,” Clever Squirrel said. “I can't be sure.”

“And their origin?”

She frowned. “Desert. Meat that hides.”

“Surely they are creatures of magic?”

“A fair guess, but again I do not know,” she said. “There is no trace of their origin, no trace of magic about them. Only the hatreds.”

“All gods welcome at the Feathersnake Inn,” Burning Tower whispered. They were sitting close enough to the witness stand that Squirrel heard her.

Clever Squirrel nodded. “My kinswoman repeats a phrase our father sometimes uses. I believe it came originally from Morth of Atlantis.”

The Lords Witnesses looked at each other, then back at Clever Squirrel.

“ ‘All gods welcome,'” Squirrel said. “There's no natural wizardry in the birds. It makes them a natural host for gods. That is the way of our father, whom you knew as Whandall Placehold.”

There was a stir among the Lordkin in the back of the room. Someone muttered something obscene. “Quiet,” Wanshig said sharply.

“As Lordkin were often possessed of Yangin-Atep,” Squirrel continued, “although they are not themselves magical. I believe these birds are possessed of the will of—someone, god or great wizard—but if there is any magic to the birds themselves, no trace of it remains for me to find.” She drew herself up to stand straight and proud. “And my Lords, I tell you, if anyone could find such, it would be me.”

T
he hearings were continued to the next day, to the great delight of Green Stone and the Bison Tribe merchants. A full Congregation of Lords Witness and their entourage guaranteed shoppers.

Quintana was thorough. Everyone who had anything to say about the birds either testified to the main hearing or was taken to a smaller room to speak with the clerks. By afternoon, everything anyone knew about the birds had been heard and written down. Then the Lords adjourned. A clerk announced formally that the Lords Witness would take this matter under consideration. The entourage packed up, and in solemn procession the Lords, their clerks, and their soldiers rode back to Lordshills.

Burning Tower watched them go with amazement. “That's it?” she asked her brother. “All that, and—and nothing?”

Green Stone shrugged. “You've heard Father say that the Lords are strange.”

“Strange, yes. Idiots, no,” Burning Tower said. “And where's Sandry?”

“In his chariot,” Clever Squirrel said. “Leading his soldiers.” She pointed to a figure vanishing in the distance.

“Yes, but—”

Clever Squirrel chuckled. “You don't know much about men, do you?”

“Not as much as you. But I can ride one-horns without yelling at them!”

“Tsk. No need to be angry,” Squirrel said. “What I should have said is that you'll hear from him soon enough. He's got some man game to play, and men always take those things seriously, but he hasn't forgotten you.”

“I don't care if he does forget me!”

“Sure. Now stop giving Stones false hopes. Not that I blame you much. Very handsome lad, and a lot nicer than any of the boys we know.”

Green Stone growled. “City Lord. What use would he be on the Hemp Road?”

Clever Squirrel grinned. “You don't know much about girls, do you?”

 

Chalker found her an hour later at her wagon nest. “Lord Sandry's respects, Lady.” He looked around to be sure they were alone. “The high and mighty ones are going to summon all you wagon folk to a big meeting tomorrow up in Lordshills,” he said. “Lord Sandry was hoping he could see you sort of more privatelike before that, but they want him at their council tonight.”

“What do you think will happen?”

Chalker looked serious. “I don't know, and that's the honest truth. Them Lords talk a lot and put on big shows, but they're taking this as serious as anything I ever saw.”

“What do you think of them?” she asked.

He eyed her carefully.

“I mean—”

“Yes, ma'am, I think I know what you mean. And bein' honest again, I don't know if you can fit in with them or not. But they're a pretty adaptable bunch. We both think a lot of our Lord Sandry.”

“Well, yes!”

“Thing is, so do the high and mighty ones. It may be that what he wants will count for a lot one of these days, and like I say, the Lords are pretty adaptable, all things considered. More so than the Captains of Condigeo, that's for sure.” He bowed. “And I reckon I'll see you tomorrow.”

Chalker was barely out of the wagon nest when Squirrel came in from the other room. “Well.”

“You heard?”

“Sure. Told you he hadn't forgotten you.”

“But what did he really say? Squirrelly, I get so mixed up! I just can't stop thinking about him.”

“Do you want to?”

“Sometimes yes, sometimes not. I never see you mooning over boys!”

“You won't, either, but it doesn't mean I never did it. Or never will again, for that matter.”

“You?”

She shrugged. “You're the one who keeps pointing out that I have to shout at the one-horns.”

“Yeah—what was that like?”

Squirrel grinned. “Now, now, you'll find out. Overrated, I'd say, but then I wasn't really all that in love with—well, with the boy. Maybe it's different when you're in love, married, or going to be.”

“Oh.”

“Don't get crazy ideas,” Squirrel said. “Look, I have my place. Like my mother. Five kids and no husband, but she doesn't need one. Neither do I. Nobody really expects Coyote's daughter to mate for life. But it's different for you.” She chuckled. “Hang in there, Blazes. If you really want that boy, you'll get him.”

“And then what? A Lordkin's daughter in Lordshills? Or—” She changed her voice to sound like her brother's. “A city Lord on the Hemp Road.”

Squirrel shrugged. “Whandall Feathersnake was a city Lordkin who did pretty well on the Hemp Road.” She took Burning Tower's hand in hers and stared at the palm, then shook her head. “Nothing. I'd say it was the low manna, but I never have seen anything. I think our paths are too close. You and me, Sister.”

 

The invitation came later that evening: a parchment written in a neat hand with embellishments and illuminations. The Lords Witness would be pleased if the Wagonmaster would attend the announcement of the findings of the Congregation and the requests and instructions of the Council regarding the matter of the beasts known as terror birds. There was a separate invitation to the Learned Sage Clever Squirrel. They were delivered by Younglord Maydreo, accompanied by Peacevoice Fullerman, and read by a clerk in dark robes.

After the delegation left, Green Stone frowned at the document. “They read it to us. Does this mean they think we can't read the local language? That might be useful.”

“Notice where they were going,” Burning Tower said. “To the Lordkin lodgehouse. They'll know Lordkin can't read no matter what language it's in. What happens if they read it to them but not us? Might be insulting to the Lordkin.”

“Or an honor they don't want to give us,” Clever Squirrel observed. “One thing I've noticed, these Lords don't do much by accident.” She grinned. “Think you can live that way, Blazes? You've always been pretty spontaneous.”

“I don't know. But Sandry isn't that way!”

“Not with you, maybe, but think about it,” Squirrel said. “Every story I've heard told about him—all of yours, even—he's always looking ahead.”

“But that's good!”

“I can agree there,” Green Stone said. “People who just do things without thinking, they can be dangerous.” He chuckled. “Sometimes it works out, though.”

“Like you with Morth?” Tower asked. “Running off with the wizard, and just barely married at the time!”

“Yes. But it worked well, better than we ever hoped, and I sure couldn't have planned it. And you! You weren't supposed to be with my group last year! Stowed away! Good thing too—you wouldn't have been there to climb that pole to burn the Toronexti contract. Nobody could have planned that!” He sobered. “But usually it's better to think ahead, and those Lords sure do that.”

“Lordkin don't plan,” Clever Squirrel said. “But Whandall learned to. Not just as a Hemp Road merchant prince, before he ever left Tep's Town. So it's not in their blood to be foolish, and I doubt it's in the Lords' blood to be wise. Blood can count—look at me, Coyote's daughter, but look at you two, half Lordkin and half kinless and not like either.” She grinned. “I wonder what your children will be like?”

Green Stone shook his head. “If we don't do something about those cursed birds, she won't have any kids, or any dowry either, for that matter.”

“I don't think Sandry expects a dowry,” Blazing Tower said.

“Maybe not, but anybody out here will,” Green Stone said. “And given the way them Lords think, it won't hurt if you have your own means just in case it doesn't work out, you know.”

“I don't care about that!”

Clever Squirrel's voice was affectionate and only half amused. “I know you don't. Girls in love never do. Most of the girls who want to talk to me before they marry don't care a bit and they're angry because their fathers and brothers insist on getting all the contract details right. But nothing makes a marriage last like the husband knowing you own the wagon and team!”

In the morning, the Lords sent horses and wagons for Green Stone and Clever Squirrel. Burning Tower wanted to go, but they hadn't sent anyone she knew well enough to ask, and no one responded to hints. In bitter disappointment, she watched them go, then brooded until they returned in the evening.

“Well?” She demanded.

“One thing at a time,” Green Stone said. “How were sales today? Particularly out of Wagon Six?”

“Six? That's stuff we bought at First Pines to take to Condigeo. Why?”

Stone grinned. “Because I sold the entire wagon, cargo and all, to the Lords, at a good price too. Sight unseen.”

“What did they want with a wagon full of goods for Condigeo?”

“They don't want the goods; they want the wagon,” Stone said.

“Brother, I am going to strangle you!”

Stone grinned again. “It will be the traveling quarters for their officers,” he said. “They're sending an escort, chariots and footsoldiers, and even a couple of Lordkin.”

“Who? Who? It's Sandry, isn't it?”

“Yes, little sister. They're sending the only officer they have who's ever fought terror birds. Of course.”

“He's coming!”

“Yep.” Stone looked serious. “You just don't forget—your job on the road is to take care of the one-horns.”

She made a face at him, and they both laughed.
He's coming!