Myrren's Gift (42 page)

Wyl sensed he must not show any further proof that the word disturbed him. “How old are you anyway, Cailech?” he asked, falling back on Romen’s nonchalance, which had saved Koreldy so many times.

“Odd question.” the man replied, showing a smile that Wyl noted touched his eyes and changed his demeanor into one of pure amusement. “I would hazard that you and I are around the same age.” Wyl nodded, estimating thirty-five or so summers. “You have achieved so much for one still relatively young.”

Cailech snorted. “I don’t feel young.”

“Tell me how it all came about… how you united the tribes.”

“I thought we were discussing you. Anyway you would have heard it from others during your last stay, I’m sure.”

“I’d like to hear it from you.” Wyl said carefully.

“Why?”

“You said you were in no hurry and you have never told me much about yourself,” Wyl gambled again, all but holding his breath.

Cailech sipped, watchful, obviously carefully considering Wyl’s question.

“There really isn’t much to tell,” the King finally said. “We were a rabble. A horde of scavengers who would just as soon fight over a neighbor’s goat than look to the bigger prey of neighboring kingdoms and fight over something worth winning.”

“Such as?”

“Land, horses, wealth.”

“Go on.”

“We were never going to amount to anything more than vandals whose best success might be raiding another tribe’s region. I suppose I had a vision.”

“How old were you when you had this vision?”

The King tapped his goblet in thought now. “I could see it clearly from childhood. As soon as I was considered old enough to wield weapons and join the raiding parties, I began preaching that vision. At every opportunity I’d beg my father, the leader of our tribe, to call talks. After a raid, whether we were successful or not. he would sit with his counterpart and they would discuss what I suppose could be called terms of war. It became infectious and my father and I would travel into different tribes as the mediators for such talks. As my voice deepened into a man’s. I think they began to pay more attention to me. For this, you see, was only the beginning of my vision. My plan was always to unite the tribes into one race, one leader, one aim.” He broke off and shrugged suddenly. “All history. This fortress took almost two decades of my life to build.”

“I was impressed all those years ago, your majesty. I’m even more astounded by its simple beauty now.”

“Thank you,” the King said. “And Racklaryon? How was your ride?” This time he did not hesitate. “Painful.”

“I expect it was,” Cailech replied carefully, then switched topics as smoothly as his wine slipped down Wyl’s throat. “We are wondering why Morgravia would use you to spy on us.” Wyl balked and the surprise showed on his face. “I am not spying for Morgravia, your majesty. I would sooner join you in cutting its King’s throat.”

It was Cailech’s turn to be surprised. “Is that so?”

“He has done me many wrongs. That’s why I was in the north.” Cailech raised a cynical eyebrow. “Well, Romen. It’s your turn. I shall have your story about this trip so close to our border.”

Wyl took a careful breath of relief. This was something he could speak about without fear of error.

After an opportunity to wash and neaten her appearance. Elspyth enjoyed a most acceptable meal of warm bread and a thinly sliced meat she did not recognize. As she finished off the light but nonetheless deliciously buttery wine, there was a knock at the door. She took a deep breath and crossed the room, brushing crumbs from her clothes. She was pleased to see it was Lothryn who had come for her.

“How is your wife?” she asked before he said anything.

Lothryn’s expression did not change but she would never know how much her gentle-mannered inquiry meant to him. “As well as can be expected. She began her pains before our arrival. She’s still going.” Elspyth could sense the anxiety he did his best to disguise. “Not long then before you can celebrate your son’s arrival,” she said brightly.

“Haldor willing.” he replied softly, calling on the Mountain god.

“Have I been summoned?”

“Not yet. I thought you should see how barbaric we really are.” She frowned, not sure what this meant.

“Shall we take a walk?” he offered.

This took her by surprise but she quickly rearranged her expression to a smile. “I’d like that.” He showed her through sections of the fortress and Elspyth admitted to being delighted by the beautiful decoration on the walls and ceilings, on the timbers and in their fabrics.

“You are a most artistic people.” she observed and meant it. “More talented than us Morgravians.”

“Skills passed down through generations over centuries.” he explained, not showing it but pleased by her compliment. Outside he guided her past the busy kitchens.

“There’s a feast in the making.” he added, which explained the frenetic activity.

They continued beyond the stables and into the orchards and vegetable gardens.

These were vast and a small army of people were busy tending to them. He left her momentarily to reach up and pick some late apples. Lothryn munched on one and offered her the other. They strolled in silence as they ate.

“Tell me about Koreldy.” Elspyth suddenly blurted.

“I can’t imagine there’s anything I can tell you about him that you don’t already know.” he responded cautiously.

“Please. Lothryn. He’s a stranger. I’m having enough trouble working out what I’m doing here. Perhaps if I knew more. I could help with what you want.” she offered.

The man paused a while as if measuring whether she was trying to trick him.

“We want to see if Koreldy is a threat to our people.”

“But you know him already, surely? And how can a single man be a threat?”

“We knew him a long time ago. Cailech would like to know what he’s doing in Morgravia.”

“Well. I can tell you that.” she said, puzzled. “He’s somehow connected to that General who recently died.”

“Thirsk?”

“Yes.”

Lothryn shook his head. “He was an old man, bound to eventually die on the battlefield. Connection or not, I suspect this is not what my King pursues.”

“No. I’m talking about the son. His name was Wyl.”

“Wyl Thirsk is dead?”

It clearly came as a shock to him. she realized. “Well, yes. My aunt and I heard about his state funeral on our travels back to Yentro from Pearlis. I remember her saying we hadn’t heard the last from that one but I don’t know what she meant by that.”

Now she had Lothryn’s interest piqued. “And what is Koreldy’s connection with Thirsk?”

“I have no idea but my aunt may have known. She agreed to meet Romen only because he mentioned the name Thirsk.”

“Then what are your aunt’s dealings with the former General?”

“Very little. She did a ‘speak’ for him when we were in Pearlis for the tournament.”

“A ‘speak’?”

“That’s her talent. She’s a seer. She speaks about what she sees in people, although I would not admit that on Morgravian soil.”

“Do they still burn people?”

“Not for several years now, but the old suspicions die hard in the south. In the north we believe in empowerment, we always have.”

He grunted. “Us too.”

Lothryn tossed his apple core aside. “So what did she see in Thirsk?”

“Truly. I don’t know. I wasn’t present. It wasn’t anything serious—just a bit of fun fortune-telling to earn a few pennies.”

Lothryn nodded thoughtfully. “What else do you know?”

“That’s it. We arrived home and not long after Koreldy appeared in Yentro asking after the Widow Ilyk.

my aunt.”

“Perhaps we should have grabbed the old woman,” Lothryn muttered ruefully.

She took advantage of his mood. “All you had to do was ask me —I would have given you this information willingly. You didn’t have to knock me unconscious and drag me up here to learn it.” He did not respond. although she sensed his amusement. They continued walking.

Elspyth tried again. “So what is Romen’s secret?”

Lothryn looked at her with no understanding and she returned it with an expression of exasperation. “Ifs clear he hides something which you know about. You two greeted each other amicably; how does a Mountain Dweller know a Grenadyn noble?”

“Grenadyn is but a short boat trip away.”

Elspyth shook her head. “You’re avoiding my question.” she admonished.

“Perhaps you should let him tell you his past.”

She made a sound of scorn. “Lothryn, you didn’t bring me out here for the fresh air. I suspect Cailech asked you to find out what I know. I’ve told you what information I have. I also suspect the walk helps take your mind off your laboring wife. First child? I’d say you have hours to go. We’re in no rush. Talk to me—I’ll keep you company but only if you’re honest. I’ve told you the truth.” She was easy to like, this one. Lothryn found her fiery nature attractive. He hoped Cailech would not order her defilement as some sort of example to the Morgravians, although he was more than capable of something that brutal, especially now the young Morgravian King had showed himself to be more aggressive than his father. Magnus had left it to General Fergys Thirsk to ensure the Legion’s presence at the border was a sufficient deterrent, but Fergys had never been heavy-handed with that weapon. In contrast Celimus had. and his recent act of slaughtering innocents who had inadvertently stumbled across the border had plunged Cailech into an unpredictable mood. It might have been eased had Celimus sent immediate apology but the silence from the south was both deafening and damning.

Lothryn hoped his influence might count for something when he met with the King later—perhaps he might help avoid some brewing trouble. He came out of his musings, realizing Elspyth was staring at him, waiting for his response.

“All right. I’m sure it can’t hurt,” he said. “Sit here.” Lothryn gestured toward a low wall that led into rockier pastures where the fortress’s goats were grazing.

“He is from Grenadyn. He belongs to a wealthy noble’s family— I mean real riches. There were three children. An eldest son —the heir—and then twins, Romen and his sister. I gather that Romen was the wild one of the three and always leading his sister into trouble. His antics became more reckless as he grew up and it was the brother who saved Romen’s lot countless times.” Elspyth smiled. She had never had any siblings to know that kind of love. “They were close then.” He nodded.

“I sense from your expression that this story doesn’t have a happy ending.”

“No,” Lothryn admitted. “Grenadyn’s south island is really not that Far from our mainland. Cailech passed a law forbidding any visitors beyond our borders without prior permission being sought. He really meant it against the Morgravians and Briavellians who treated us Mountain Dwellers as nothing more than barbarians.”

“If only they knew,” she said, trying to ease his obvious wrath for the rich southern realms.

“I don’t think he really worried about Grenadyn. They had no argument with us; never sought our lands, never gave cause for us to regard them as anything but friendly neighbors.”

“Until?”

“Until some of our people mistakenly got themselves washed up on a Grenadyn beach. Some panic-stricken idiot sent out the word that the barbarians were raiding. It was a ludicrous claim considering our people were in a smallish rowboat but it was night and the thugs the alarmist called were drunk. I presume they decided to take matters into their own hands. Our people fought back as bravely as they could without many weapons but they were slaughtered. The children, too, who were hiding in the boat. One of those children was the King’s cousin. He loved her very much.” Lothryn threw a stone into the distance. He stayed quiet for a few moments and Elspyth wondered if he would continue with the story.

“Cailech did not respond as predicted—he took us by surprise, to be honest, and I imagine the Grenadynes held their collective breath waiting for the onslaught that never came. Instead he simply issued a warning. His instructions were clear. If anyone from Grenadyn was ever sighted on our land they were to be killed with the same speed and lack of sympathy that had been shown our people.” Elspyth did not need to hear any more. She could guess the outcome but Lothryn’s tongue was loosened now and he seemed compelled to tell it all.

“We sent word to Grenadyn of his decision. Everyone sensibly heeded the warning—except Romen Koreldy. Arrogant and possessing that sense of invincibility all young braves have in abundance, he devised a dare for the young folk of the south island. Bring back a bunch of Cailech’s prized grapes from his vineyards of Racklaryon and you won what he called the dare gold.”

“You don’t need to go on.” she said, touching his arm gently.

Whether he noticed the gesture or not. he ignored it. “Several took him up on the dare but were unsuccessful. Thankfully that channel of water that divides us is usually perilous. But I gather from Romen that he goaded his sister unfairly, for this girl was not scared of anything, as I understand it—very much in his mold…a worthy twin, you could say. She was every bit the adventurer Romen was and always trying to prove she was a match for him.

“The short of it is that Lily—that was her name—took the dare. And Romen, delighted and filled with bravado, said he’d join her. They rowed across the channel. Fate calmed the waters on that particular day. When the elder brother found out their folly he was understandably furious and rowed after them.” Lothryn put his head in his hands. “You know she almost made it, that brave girl. She had the grapes in her hand when she was discovered. The elder brother had the presence of mind to bring his sword and he wielded it gallantly. I was there, I witnessed him fighting for their lives.”

“And Romen?” Elspyth enquired.

“Ah. that’s the crux of this dark tale. He lost his nerve. Cringing in a copse near the vineyard, he shielded himself and watched us take his brother and sister. Cailech ordered their deaths instantly. Our King made the right decision—the only decision he could under the circumstances—but it made me feel we earned our title of barbarians that day. We crucified those two young people in the Racklaryon vineyard for nothing more than a bunch of grapes.