The Caller (47 page)

They’d planned this, I realised. Tali and Lannan Long-Arm. They must have done. It explained why she had not declared herself until now. Because Lannan, a respected chieftain, had challenged the king in the protected setting of a Gathering, whose traditional purpose was to bring disputes into the open and settle them, Keldec and his supporters were obliged to listen, for now at least. So Tali had her opportunity to be heard before the king could call his Enforcers in to destroy her and her supporters. But Keldec would not give her long. He must realise now that the tide was turning.

‘Keldec must go!’ cried Tali. ‘We have allowed him to silence us! We have allowed fear to stifle our knowledge of what is right! This is no king! This is a tyrant, a bully, a travesty. He must be deposed!’

‘The king must go!’ shouted the rebels standing around her.

Alban’s folk had long ago learned the perils of speaking their minds under Keldec’s rule. But now a murmuring arose, and then one or two people called out support, and then the chant began, at first soft, but gradually building to a full-throated cry: ‘The king must go! The king must go!’

Tali raised a hand and the crowd fell silent again. Out in the open area, the Good Folk and the men of Wolf Troop stood quiet, watching her. One of the men close to me murmured to his companion, ‘That’s the woman who was enthralled last midsummer. Has to be the same one, look at those tattoos.’

‘Wasn’t she turned into a half-wit?’

‘Seems not.’

‘We have come here with an army of our own,’ Tali went on. ‘And if we must fight to remove this monster, we will fight until every last one of us is cut down. We have made sacrifices aplenty; all Alban has endured losses. It is time to make an end of that. It is time to say, enough, no more, and to set our dear country to rights again. There is no man of the royal line who could become king now, only a lad of nine summers, the son of Liana of Scourie. But we have able chieftains. A strong regency could be established until the heir is a man and ready to lead. There are proper processes for that, but under this king’s rule, those processes have been set aside. Keldec has been a law unto himself.’ She looked directly across the open area to the royal party. ‘If the king would step down,’ she said, ‘this could be achieved without more bloodshed. If he would cede his authority to the chieftains, we might restore Alban without further loss of life. Keldec, there are those of your chieftains who support our cause. Will you take the honourable path and stand aside for the sake of your people?’

‘This is outrageous!’ the king shouted. ‘Who do you think you are? Eagle Troop, apprehend this woman immediately! Horse Troop, Hound Troop, clear these folk from the area!’

‘Stay calm,’ said the Master of Shadows. ‘Keep your focus. And remember what I told you.’

‘Free Alban! The thistle!’ screamed Tali, lifting her sword above her head as three troops of Enforcers advanced grimly on the area where she stood.

I closed my mind to doubt. I thought of fire, raging, burning, scorching. I thought of a flame of truth; a light in the darkness. The comforting glow of a hearth fire. The raging terror of a wildfire. I thought of the upheavals Alban had endured. I thought of a little candle, guttering, flickering, struggling to stay alight.

‘
Good Folk of Alban!’ I called, and sent the flame of my call out to kindle the heart of every fey being here, not only those hidden among the crowd as part of Tali’s rebel army, but those who still stood before the king, with the men of Wolf Troop behind them. ‘Fight for freedom and justice! Fight for the future! The thistle!’ And I sent my call far beyond Summerfort, over the mountains to the hall of the Lord of the North, for it seemed to me those uncanny warriors would travel here by their own paths. ‘Scar! Stack! We need your help! Bring us your army!’

All around the circle, people had thrown off concealing cloaks to reveal weapons of wood, of bone, of the pale shining substance I had seen in the north. Everywhere, men, women and Good Folk hurled themselves against the might of the king’s men. Beings flew down from the sky, appeared from the earth, shimmered into substance from thin air. Tali’s rebels, both human and fey, could now be seen to be wearing white tokens: scarves, ribbons, belts, headbands. I guessed Tali had ordered this so her army had some chance of telling friend from foe in the chaos.

The noise was like a wild creature: the area rang with the battle-cries of the combatants and the screams of the onlookers, for not everyone in the crowd was a fighter. Folk scrambled to get out of the way as the battle spilled beyond the open area into the space intended for people to sit on the grass and watch the Gathering. Keldec was shouting orders; the queen was screaming at Esten. The Caller was shouting too. Dimly I heard it as he stood with arms outstretched, something about obedience, compliance, a dire punishment if they did not obey. But in the power of my call, Esten’s was lost.

‘Fight for Alban!’ yelled Rock-face.

‘Doon wi’ the king!’ screamed Bird-claws, and Keldec’s uncanny army was off, charging toward the melee. Wolf Troop moved with them. Not to hold them back, but to help them; to protect them. The Wolves were fighting on our side. The men of Stag Troop did not move from their position in front of the royal party.

‘Have faith,’ said the Master of Shadows, gazing with interest as Enforcer clashed with Enforcer, and men began to fall. ‘But do not flag,’ for I was feeling queasy now, as if I might be sick or collapse in a dead faint. Where was Flint? I could not see him anywhere. Where was Sage?

‘Stay strong,’ the Master said. ‘Your work is not yet done. Remember what I told you.’

‘Forward, the North!’ yelled Lannan Long-Arm, and from all around him men in his grey colours vaulted the barrier and ran to join battle.

‘To arms, Glenfalloch!’ shouted Gormal, and men in green poured down to add their support to Lannan’s fighters. There were white tokens on the clothing of both households, revealed only now. But no tokens for the men of Wolf Troop, in their Enforcer black. They’d surely be attacked by rebel and king’s man alike. To my untutored eye it looked as if the Wolves were not the only troop to change allegiance – on many parts of the field, Enforcer now fought Enforcer. Had Seal Troop, too, switched to the rebel side? This was indeed a day of change.

‘All troops, forward!’ cried Keldec. ‘Rid me of this rabble! Stag Troop, to me! Seize these disobedient chieftains!’

The seating was now empty of warriors, save for six of Gormal’s men-at-arms who held their positions around me and the Master of Shadows – he did in fact seem to be invisible to them. The confrontation down there dwarfed the battle I had witnessed last autumn when Regan’s rebels had accounted for the whole of Boar Troop. Indeed, so much was happening that people seemed to have forgotten that I was playing a part in it. The chieftains of Alban were all on their feet.

As the battle raged, Stag Troop obeyed Keldec’s order, splitting into two groups. One team stayed in place down below the seating, using their weapons to defend themselves if any of the combatants came too close, but not moving out into the fight. The other team climbed the steps in a grim, black-clad line with Rohan Death-Blade in the lead. When they reached the king’s level they moved to encircle the royal party and the chieftains in a formidable human shield.

But no; this was not a shield, it was a cage. These troopers weren’t protecting Keldec and Varda, their councillors, their Caller, their loyal chieftains, but making sure they didn’t get away. My jaw dropped as I saw Rohan let first Lannan, then Gormal, then Ness of Corriedale and lastly Sconlan of Glenbuie leave the guarded area. The four chieftains ran onto the field of battle, drawing their swords and rallying their clans.

‘Four,’ observed the Master of Shadows. ‘Remarkable.’

The men of Corriedale and Glenbuie charged forward at their chieftains’ call and joined the fight. I struggled to keep my concentration; to remember what I had been taught, and to be ready to call again. It was a confusion of screams and shouts, the thump of blows, the shriek of metal on metal. It was blood and death. My stomach churned; spots danced before my eyes.

‘Do not weaken,’ said the Master of Shadows, ‘or the other may try to seize control from you. Apply what you have learned.’

What I had learned was threatening to slip from my mind altogether to be replaced by a fog of panic. I made myself breathe as the Hag had taught me. I sharpened my focus, seeing with the clarity of air. I made myself open to change, fluid as water, seeking a way into the mind of every fey being who fought in that hideous spectacle before me.
I am too small, too weak, too lacking in wisdom
, part of me protested. And the answer came clearly:
It is not your own strength you use for this task. It is the strength of Alban itself, deep as the roots of a great oak, fresh and good as a tumbling mountain stream, strong as the west wind, bright as summer sun. It is as old as story. Nothing can stand against it. Nothing.

And I remembered what the Master of Shadows had said earlier.
Know when it is time to stop.
The battle was raging without my needing to direct it; Good Folk and humankind stood shoulder to shoulder. In the turmoil I caught glimpses of many familiar friends: there were Tali and Fingal, back to back like twin warriors from some ancient tale, wielding their swords against a well-disciplined group of Enforcers; there was Andra, skewering an attacker with her spear. Hollow appeared to be enjoying himself mightily, picking up king’s men as if they were dolls, wringing their necks and tossing them away over his shoulders. A chorus of screams followed him around the field. And I saw that the army from the north had come to my call. Over there by the wall were the stalwart, golden-haired warriors who were personal guards to the Lord of the North, the brothers on whom I had bestowed the names Constant and Trusty. Close by them were the fighters Tali had befriended during our stay in the Lord’s hall: Scar, Steep, Stack, Grim, Fleabane and many of their kind, wielding their weapons with savage efficiency.

How long could this go on? The men of the North, of Corriedale, of Glenfalloch and Glenbuie were fighting strongly, assisted by Wolf Troop and, I was certain now, most of Seal Troop; the Good Folk were wreaking havoc wherever they went. But most of the king’s men had stayed loyal to him, and they were expert fighters, trained with the utmost rigour. Their code would see them battle to the end. They would go on, if necessary, until every Enforcer on the field was dead. And the rebel side, kindled into action both by Tali’s stirring speech and by my call, would not give way now that freedom was in sight. This had been a long time coming. The people of Alban could taste a new age, and if it must be paid for in bloody losses, they would pay gladly. Already, the field was strewn with the dead or dying. As they fought, folk stumbled on the bodies of comrade and enemy alike.

Now Tali was struggling with three Eagle Troop men for possession of a spear; she fought like a wild thing, but they were slowly pushing her back against the barrier, trying to get her off balance. And now here came Andra, sword in hand, slashing with casual expertise as she moved in. Tali wriggled free only to see Andra struck down by a heavy blow to the head; six men in black now surrounded the two rebel fighters. Andra lay limp; one side of her head was all blood. The White Lady had taught me to hear one voice among many, and Tali’s shriek of rage and grief came to me over the great, hideous noise of battle. She charged like a mad bull, throwing herself bodily into one attacker. Before the others could seize her, Constant and Trusty strode up, each of the fey warriors dwarfing the biggest of the king’s men, and with a flick here and a twist there the six Enforcers were accounted for. Tali went down on her knees beside her second-in-command; the Twa stood guard. Even from so far away I could see that Andra was dead. My stomach felt leaden. Who would be next, Fingal, Big Don, Tali herself? Would I see all these good people, all my brave friends, struck down one by one? And where was Flint in that maelstrom of violence? He’d looked barely strong enough to stay on his feet.

‘The Thistle!’ yelled Lannan Long-Arm, leading a group of his men against a tight formation of Enforcers. ‘The North!’ A slash of the sword, and a man’s head bounced and rolled on the hard earth. Around the field, sudden fires were breaking out, causing panic. Someone was coaxing flames to burn by magic. A king’s man brandished an iron bar; one of the Good Folk laid hands on the weapon and used it to batter his opponent over the head. Great winged creatures flew over the field of battle, diving from time to time to pluck a man from the fight, lift him high, then drop him back down into the chaos below.

‘Stag Troop!’ Keldec shouted. ‘To arms!’

The men of Stag Troop stood unmoving, maintaining their guard around the king’s party. Whatever orders they were obeying, they were not Keldec’s. Now the king called out, ‘Galany of Bull Troop! Get your men out here!’

The men of Bull Troop had stayed on guard outside the annexe. Now they forced their way through the sea of combatants to the front of the seating, where they formed up, facing the ranks of Stag Troop. Galany looked up at Rohan Death-Blade, who was standing right behind Keldec, and gave a little nod.

‘The men of Bull Troop no longer serve you, Keldec.’ Galany’s voice was strong and sure. ‘Our loyalty is to the kingdom of Alban, and to our comrades-in-arms. Good men have died on your watch; men whom you have broken for the slightest word out of turn, men you have forced to perform acts that will weigh on them their whole lives. We have seen friend after friend fall; we have laid down comrade after comrade, and remained obedient because those were our orders. Because we had no faith that it could change. Today is the day of change. Today, we are no longer king’s men, but men of Alban.’

What Keldec might have said in reply, I never knew. No sooner had Galany finished his speech when a look of mild surprise appeared on his face, and a moment later he toppled forward, the shaft of an arrow protruding from his back. Two Enforcers with bows had climbed the wall and were taking shots from a vantage point half-concealed by a section of the annexe roof. A second Bull Troop man fell.