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Authors: Fortress of Dragons
Encouraged, the people, too, rose to see, and Uwen and the guard silently dismounted, until they all stood facing one another, a gathering so silent for that moment of assessment that the gusting wind and the restless shifting and blowing of weary horses was the loudest sound in their camp.
"Lord of Althalen," Aeself said against that silence, "you've come to your capital."
"You've done very well," Tristen said, for dull as he was to proprieties, he knew how much Aeself yearned to be in the right of matters. "You've made these people safe."
"My lord," Aeself said, and hastily waved a hand at those standing near. "Bring our lord and his men meat and drink! See to their horses.
Hurry there!"
He had forbidden Aeself to hail him king, and Aeself had obeyed that wish, but he knew the thought in Aeself's heart, and he saw it in these people, who welcomed him and his guard and opened up the wide, rough timber doors of their great hall to him.
"Come in, come in," Aeself urged him, and he did so, with Uwen fortress of dragons.html
beside him, and Gweyl and his guards, leaving Dys and Cass to the men, with all the horses.
The place was half of that same rough timber and half stone from the ruins. He was anxious to have his men out of the cold, but this place was large enough to receive them, and Aeself left the wide doors open for all to come and go, despite the snow falling outside.
Women, snow-sprinkled and bundled up in shawls and scarves, hurried to bring in trestles and benches, and men brought snowy planks, so that in a moment the barren place had tables. Women hurried back with baskets of hard bread, and men brought bowls, while the chill wind wafted the scent of food around the half-open hall.
"The horses," was all Tristen needed to say to receive Aeself's assurances there was provision for them and that the men had help settling them. In the meanwhile nothing would do but that they sit and accept mulled ale, while onlookers jammed the door, a living wall that cut off much of the wind and made the hall all but snug.
"Are you well here?" Tristen asked, and had Aeself's assurance that they were, and more than that, they thrived: Modeyneth helped them, and they had no sickness in the camp, no lack of warm blankets and dry boots.
Other questions waited on their supper, which waited for the men to come in, and when they did, it was a good thick stew with their hard bread, rough fare which came wonderfully welcome after a long cold ride.
With so many bodies already to block the drafts and a good fire in a chimneyed old hearth giving off a grateful warmth on the right side, still more of Aeself's folk crowded in, a living blanket of well-wishes and earnestness.
"I came to see how you fared," Tristen said, broaching the business on which he came, "and to learn whether there might be Tasmôrden's men across the river, and I found dead men outside your walls, frozen in the snow."
Heads nodded solemnly. No one seemed surprised, but no few blessed themselves.
"Two bands came at us here," Aeself said, "and each time the wind fortress of dragons.html
came up, and the snow blew. We said to ourselves it was a ghost wind when first we heard it. And the next day we went out to find whether they'd been back, and there they lay, stiff and frozen, Tasmôrden's men, and up to no good. So it happened the second time, two days after that."
Even among the Amefin men blessed themselves, and Uwen said, softly, "It were the old lady got 'em."
"Your enemies aren't welcome at Althalen."
"Gods bless," Gweyl said, and his men with him, while the Amefin echoed the same.
Tristen said quietly, "The earl of Meiden said he fell in with armed men to the west and south, as he was riding from Modeyneth, and so we sent Ivanim by the north road and came by the west, to see if they had come toward you. We thought we should come see if you needed help. And clearly not."
"As you see… no, my lord. We
have
help."
"Do you need anything? Are you in want of anything?"
"We want for nothing but the chance to serve," Aeself said, "to post our own guards along the river, to defend
you
, my lord. We are
your
men to order. And if Tasmôrden's men come into this land, we know them, and we know whom to trust."
"Do it," Tristen said without a qualm, and to Uwen's slight unease in the matter.
"M'lord," Uwen said softly, "the rangers is out, too, an' there wight be a misfortune."
Tristen shook his head. "They'll wear the red badge." He had looked Aeself in the eyes and knew this was a loyal man, and that Aeself of all men would countenance no spies.
"Here are three hundred men," Aeself said, "and eleven women who know the bow and who can stand and shoot, and the women can keep a tower, if we raise one, if we have your leave. We can take the field.
We have men skilled in woodcraft and in stealth, and we can range up and down the river and be sure who comes and goes here."
"So do the Lanfarnessemen, to the west," Tristen said, "but the land east of Modeyneth, there we have no eyes but the villagers who live fortress of dragons.html
there. There you might do us a great deal of good."
. "Only so's ye choose good an' loyal men who'll not make off wi'
pigs an' th' like from the villages," Uwen said, "them as feed ye."
"That we won't countenance," Aeself said solemnly, to Uwen's blunt concern, and on a second cup of ale, they shared news… not a great deal from the camp, but very much from the town, which was as far from Aeself's knowledge as Guelemara itself. Aeself and his two companions having been as far as Henas'amef had told every detail on their snowy evenings, so Aeself confessed—so now these folk born to Elwynor knew the names of no few earls of Amefel, and all the lords of the south, and their devices and colors, knowledge that might be vital in the struggle to come.
And of Henas'amef, they, being many of them countryfolk, wanted to know the sort of shops there were, and the taverns, and food—oh, very much the food: such things fed them while they dined on hard bread and barley stew.
All these things they freely provided, besides the news out of Guelessar and the quarrel of Lord Cevulirn with the lord of Ryssand, and all the doings in both courts, besides the voyage of Umanon with Sovrag, his longtime enemy in the south… while Aeself and his lieutenants told them a darker story, of Tasmôrden's connivance with the Saendal, the hill bandits, his marriage with a Saendal daughter and his theft of Aséyneddin's gold, from the time Aséyneddin had gone south to what would become the battle of Lewenbrook. With that gold Tasmôrden had rewarded the Saendal, and well armed and well fed, they had taken advantage of the fall of other leaders to gain the service of masterless men, for hire.
That was the core of Tasmôrden's army.
"Not that they love one another," Aeself observed, "but that they have no other master, and hate one another, but serve him, because not to serve him means to fall to the others—no man walks away from Tasmôrden's army. The dogs find him."
Many among the Elwynim blessed themselves at that, and none of the Amefin had heard the tale, so Aeself provided it.
"The Saendal hunt with dogs," Aeself said, "and Caswyddian when he was claiming the kingship had a large kennel himself, which Aséyneddin took, and let his dogs and Caswyddian's fight, and the fortress of dragons.html
ones that lived he had guarding his camp. So Tasmôrden had a number of Saendal hounds as a gift from his father-in-law, and when he took Aséyneddin's holdings he took all the dogs he found and had them and the hounds fight, and the ones that lived guard his camp. He hunts men with them, and sets them on anyone that defies him. If a man leaves the army, the hounds hunt him down."
Tristen listened in deep distress, thinking of the yellow dog that had used to follow him out on his rides in Guelessar, fond, foolish creature, and thinking that nothing he heard of Tasmôrden recommended him, this not the worst he had done, but nothing savory either.
He wished the men such dogs hunted might escape them. He saw how some of Aeself's men were very quiet and apprehensive as Aeself told the tale, and he wondered whether among these fugitives who listened to him some might have served Tasmôrden, or Aséyneddin, or Caswyddian before now.
"Well, too grim to go to sleep on," Uwen said quietly—indeed, some of the children huddled close to parents' sides at the edges of the gathering, and many a man had a gloomy look, brooding over weapons that Tristen recalled he had forbidden.
But Uwen told the matter of the feast at Midwinter, and how the Lady of Emwy had come to dance, and how Owl, who had found somewhere else to shelter, had flown right out of the walls: it made a good story, Tristen thought, who was part of it—better, in fact, than it had worrying about the rift at the time. But the people were awed to hear about the Lady, and astonished about Owl.
"The Lady watches this place," Tristen said, "and very likely your intruders fell afoul of her. I know at least that the men who ambushed Lord Crissand haven't come here to trouble you thus far, and they're very likely those in the drifts outside the walls. The Lady stopped them."
"Is she a pretty lady?" asked one of the children.
"I think she might be," Tristen said, recalling the gown of golden lace, the gown like cobwebs, and a face that never would stay in the memory, no more than snowflakes in the hand. "She has a daughter.
Auld Syes is the Lady's name, and Seddiwy is her daughter, and if you speak kindly to them, I've found they'll be good neighbors."
fortress of dragons.html
"I would give her bread," the child said, at which her mother hushed her, and rough men laughed a little.
"That you would, sweet," Uwen said, tousling a small dark head.
"And sweet dreams to you tonight."
So all of them began to settle for the night. And there was a nook curtained for warmth and furnished with fine cloth… where or how they had come by it, Tristen had no idea, but Aeself gave him and Uwen this finest bed, and all the guard had their bedrolls, so they could lie down in comfort. Aswys reported the horses well fed and settled, and chose, himself, to sleep in the shed nearest his charges, where he was accustomed to rest.
It was in one sense easier to rest here than in the Zeide with all its duties and expectations… here Tristen settled, sure he had satisfied every request, and fulfilled everyone's needs, and answered their curiosity, and that now he could close his eyes, with Uwen beside him and ale-bound for sound sleep.
But he had no sooner said as much to himself and attempted rest than he became aware of a furtive presence, a movement on the edge of his sensibilities, and not a comfortable one.
He lifted his ear from the pillow, not certain whether he had heard something or imagined it. But the wind had begun to blow, breathing cold through the cracks and making the curtains move.
"M'lord?" Uwen rose on an elbow in a dark less only by the fire outside the curtains. "M'lord, there's an uneasy sound, sum'meres."
He felt the same, not that they were threatened, but that something untoward had happened out there. Lives were out in the wind, but they went out one by one, and three at one instant, and if he listened he could hear angry voices.
If he listened, he could hear them speak of traitors, and angry
retribution; and one there was with a quieter voice, a Shadow… not
the One he expected, not Uleman, who had rebuilt the old ivards
here, but a gentler one, one seated far in the recesses of the gray
space, who rose, and came forward what seemed a long, long
distance, yet remained far from him, and trying to speak.
He wished to know what this one had to say, and strove to close the
gap, but every effort turned him aside. He became aware of darkness
fortress of dragons.html
where that Shadow moved, of strange shapes shifting and flowing,
Shadows within shadow.
Then a blue light flared up and ran along the foundations of the old
capital. Wards leapt up bright and strong, and he could no longer see
the Shadow he had been watching at all. The web of light spread
outward from where be stood, bright and clear as he had seen it
shine before Lewenbrook.
This was the web that was Uleman's making, so strong now it sang
and rippled like harp strings. Outside was dark and danger, but
where the web reached, embracing all the sleeping people, was
safety.
Yet there were doors within the Pattern: it Unfolded to him that
within the weaving there was such an access as existed in the Zeide…
and had always been.
He could go through that portal and reach Ynefel.
Another path led to the Zeide's lower hall.
A third ran to a place somewhere to the north and east, one as easily
within his reach as the other two, but of great peril: a place of
muddled sound and strange shapes, yet familiar to him in the way
many things he had never seen seemed familiar, and Unfolded to him.
"M'lord."
He could reach that third place. And he could reach Ynefel. And he
could take one step and be in the old mews, from which he could walk
straight into the lower hall of the Zeide.
And beyond that, from the Zeide's portal, to still other places, places
unvisited in very long…
"M'lord, will ye hear? The wind's takin' on fit to blow the roof off."
A shape came out of the gray, a woman of grays and gold, gowned in
cobweb lace. It was Auld Syes, and the small Shadow of her daughter
went after her, skipping and flitting.
But after them ran an entire troop of shadows, less comely, and less
dangerous than these two.
He wished them not to cause any harm in Aeself's camp.
Owl came swooping by, and on the edge of his wings the light glowed
white, white that blinded.
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