The Dog of the North (47 page)

The sun was high in the sky by the time he had finished and the sweat was standing out on his forehead and sticking his shirt to his back. Feeling unpleasantly damp, he walked down to where the
city walls abutted the river and out on to the river bank. There was no one around and he took off his shirt and boots before plunging into the water. He swam to the other bank with slow easy
strokes, before returning, dripping but much refreshed. He picked up his boots, slung his shirt over his shoulder and went back inside the castle. The exercise had cleared his mind and he felt
better able to deal with whatever events might occur.

He returned to his chambers to change into some dry clothes and poured a glass of ale from the pitcher by his bed. He lay down and stared up at the ceiling. Master Pinch had confirmed
Eilla’s judgement with regard to Siedra, and he reluctantly admitted that he had known all along they were right. She was cruel, selfish, manipulative: to that list Arren now had to add
vindictive. He did not think she would crawl away to lick her wounds in secret. She would need to score some kind of actual or symbolic revenge. He realized that her spite would be as likely to
comprehend Eilla as himself, and Eilla had fewer resources with which to respond. Disagreeable as the interview might be, he owed it to her to set out the latest events and his conclusions. It
would be helpful, too, for Oricien’s awareness to be heightened, but his inventiveness palled when he tried to think of how he was to make Oricien aware that he had debauched his sister. He
doubted that he would have Oricien’s unequivocal sympathy. It was out of the question to throw himself on Lord Thaume’s mercy: Thaume might look kindly upon him now, but he had a keen
sense of the value of his family and its connections; Siedra was the only daughter he had to bestow, and the notion of her deflowered, or worse yet with child, would not commend Arren in his
eyes.

It was nearly lunchtime, he realized, and he levered himself from his bed to walk down to the servants’ refectory in the hope of finding Eilla. He was in luck; he saw her immediately
sitting by herself in a corner dipping a hunk of bread into last night’s reheated stew. He slipped into the space beside her.

‘I need to talk to you,’ he said.

She looked up with dull eyes. She did not appear to have slept well. ‘Can you not see I am taking my lunch?’

‘You need say nothing, merely listen.’

‘We exhausted the last of our conversational topics last night. As far as I am concerned there is nothing further to be said.’

He took hold of her wrist as it conveyed bread to her mouth. ‘This you will listen to, Eilla: I insist.’

She laid her hand back down on the table. ‘It seems I will get no peace until I consent.’

‘I have broken with Siedra.’

Eilla shrugged. ‘If you recall, that is the course I advised. You need not have interrupted my meal to bring the matter to my attention.’

‘She did not take the news calmly.’

‘If that surprises you, your knowledge of her character is slighter than mine. I imagine she spat curses and vituperation, implicit and explicit threats, and dire promises of
vengeance.’

‘Well, yes. That was exactly her response.’

‘You will have observed that the front of reasonable and balanced conduct she displayed last night was not in evidence.’

‘No.’

‘I take it you are no longer in the slightest doubt as to her true nature.’

‘No.’

‘Good. But all this could have waited until this evening.’

‘She gave me to understand that her retribution will include yourself.’

Eilla picked up her bread again. ‘There is a difference between a threat and the means to carry it out.’

‘Do not underestimate her, Eilla.’

She gave a harsh laugh. ‘I have been telling you that consistently. I do not need to hear it from you now. You have been here long enough; you should leave now.’

‘Shall I see you this evening?’

‘I finish at nine bells. I may take a walk over to the Temple. If you are on hand you may accompany me.’

As Arren left the room he was conscious that Eilla had not been as pleased to see him as he had expected. Could she not be satisfied that she had beaten Siedra? The female mind could be
difficult to follow.

6

‘I am sorry I was so cross-grained at lunchtime,’ said Eilla as they walked through the quiet streets of Croad under a moonless sky.

‘I am the one who should be sorry,’ said Arren. ‘I should never have succumbed to Siedra so easily.’

‘She is beautiful and lively,’ she said. ‘I am sure men with more experience would have been equally pliant.’

Gingerly he slipped an arm around her waist; she made no effort to shake it off.

‘I will never argue with you again. You have always been right, as long as I can remember.’

‘It does not seem so to me,’ said Eilla. ‘If I had been as wise as you say, I would not be a servant with no prospects at the mercy of every lord’s ill-humour and every
lady’s tantrum.’

‘That was not a fault of yours, Eilla. The only solution for you and your family would have been to forswear the Wheel. Such questions have never interested me, but I understand their
importance to some.’

Eilla shook her head. ‘The irony is that it never mattered to me either, until the proscriptions. At the Temple they say “Make one martyr today and you make a dozen
tomorrow.”’

Without conscious intent, they made their way to the Pleasaunce, and Arren steered them away from the view commanded from Master Pinch’s window.

‘I have not helped you as I might have done,’ said Arren. ‘It has been a cruel time for you, and I have been too busy with other affairs. Can you forgive me?’

They came upon a pond and Eilla sat on the ground in front of it. ‘Can you see the fish?’ she asked.

Arren peered at the murky water. Under the black sky no fish were in evidence. ‘They are too far below the surface.’

‘The fish have their own world. Only on occasion can we see them; the rest of the time their affairs take them away from us. Even the most ardent fish-lover would not reprove the fish for
their absence. Each of us lives in our own pond, Arren. The wonder is that we ever come together . . .’

‘The Wheel is a most individualistic creed,’ said Arren.

‘I am not speaking specifically of the Wheel,’ she said, ‘although yes, it does imply a greater sense of responsibility than the Way. But we are all alone, Arren, even if
sometimes we are alone together . . .’

‘I am unclear as to whether you have forgiven me,’ said Arren. These lurches into the spiritual were not part of the Eilla he knew.

‘I am trying to say that I recognize that you have concerns other than me. I am sure no one regrets your dalliance with Siedra more than you.’

‘You are right there. I was foolish ever to trust her, foolish not to trust you, and most foolish of all for not seeing you in front of my eyes all this time.’

Even in the dark he could see her cheeks flush. ‘I am not sure what you are saying.’

He took her hand but continued to look down into the pond. ‘Eilla, I have been blind not to see from the start that my feelings have been for you. We were children together before such
things could have entered our hearts, and I had not noticed the change in mine.’ He glanced up into her face to see a glimmer of tears in her eyes.

‘Oh, Arren,’ she said. ‘Why does this happen too late?’

Arren felt a tremor run through him. ‘Too late?’

‘There must have been a time that would have been right for this,’ she said. ‘But it cannot be now. Surely you see that?’

Arren looked back down into the pond. A ripple broke the surface. Out of sight, the fish went about their business.

‘It was too much to hope for; too much to deserve,’ he said. ‘I am sorry to have upset you again. I will pay for Siedra for ever, and I cannot argue against the justice of
it.’

‘Siedra? This is not about Siedra,’ she said quickly.

‘But you said it was too late.’

‘I did not mean because of Siedra. There was a time when I was the daughter of a respected man in the city, and you were a humble member of Lord Thaume’s household. A match between
us would have been suitable. Now I am disgraced, and you stand high in Thaume’s favour. You will live to be Sir Arren; you cannot consort with a servant girl, and I could not settle for
secrecy.’

Arren scanned her face for hidden meanings and found none. ‘Is that what you mean by “too late”?’

‘Is it not enough?’

‘Eilla, I care nothing for such things. Siedra seduced me with consequence and status. If I had to choose between becoming Sir Arren and being with you, can you imagine I would
hesitate?’

She took both of his hands. ‘It is easy to say in the empty night with no one around. Do not say it unless you know you can say the same in front of the world.’

Arren leaned forward and kissed her. ‘Hissen take them all. I have listened to them for too long. We both know this is right.’

Eilla returned his kiss and further conversation became both redundant and impractical.

7

‘I need to get back to the servants’ quarters,’ Eilla said. ‘For now, at least, affairs must proceed as usual.’

‘Can you not stay a little longer?’ asked Arren with a grin. ‘I can offer inducements.’

She stood and pulled Arren to his feet. ‘And very compelling inducements they are, but we must be careful for now.’

‘You were the one who forswore secrecy.’

‘The time for openness will come. It is not yet.’

‘It is up to you, Eilla. You have been right so far.’

‘Do you want to know what I think?’

‘Of course.’

‘We should leave Croad altogether. Your prospects will be irredeemably blighted if you stay here, and I have no reason to love the city.’

‘Where would we go?’

‘There is a whole world for us to choose. Glount, Garganet . . .’

Arren thought for a moment. It would be hard to leave the city, but without Lord Thaume’s patronage, and with the perpetual enmity of Siedra, it would be a less comfortable place. He had
been well-schooled in warfare, and he knew he could find employment wherever he went.

‘What about my family? What will my parents do?’

‘I must leave my father too, Arren. If they care for us, they will not begrudge us our happiness. Matten will look after your parents, Clottie mine. We can write to them when we are
safe.’

Arren pondered a moment. ‘My father would prefer my death to offending Lord Thaume in any event,’ he said. ‘We will go. I did not care for the folk of Glount. Let us proceed to
Garganet.’

She flung her arms around him. ‘Thank you! You will see I am right! If we leave, it should be soon. There is no profit in awaiting Siedra’s revenge.’

Arren nodded pensively. ‘You are right, of course.’

‘And if you are wise, you will not tell anyone where you are going. Once we are away you can write a full justification, although you may wish to gloss over Siedra’s role in
events.’

‘Tomorrow night.’

She kissed him. ‘I will meet you in the courtyard of The Patient Suitor at midnight,’ she said. ‘Can you bring a gallumpher and provisions?’

‘Of course.’

Hand in hand they walked back to the castle. Once more they kissed and Eilla said: ‘Until tomorrow.’

8

Arren had undertaken to spend the next day hunting with Oricien, and soon after dawn they set out for the hills to the north.

‘My father has agreed to allow me to go to court next month,’ said Oricien. ‘You will be coming with me, won’t you?’

Arren was tempted to tell Oricien everything – or nearly everything, at any event. He would have preferred not to lie about his intentions, but Eilla had counselled silence in this
case.

‘Do you really want me to come? It is a long journey, and I am not going to make any spectacular match.’

‘Nonsense, Arren, you must! It is gratifying to see how the people of Croad are regarded in Emmen, and our recent victory over Tardolio has only improved matters. Your father may be a
hostage, but already he will have forged a great reputation for himself! There are many tales at court of men who have made good marriages after carrying all before them in tournaments. Why should
you not do the same?’

‘I am sure the men you refer to are of more illustrious lineage than me.’

‘Remember, you will be under the sponsorship of the heir of Croad. No one will dare fleer at you. I should not say this, but Siedra thinks you are rather gallant!’

Arren involuntarily twitched on his gallumpher’s reins and the beast stumbled in its stride. ‘I am sure you exaggerate,’ he said.

‘My revelation does not find you indifferent!’ cried Oricien. ‘I am sure my sister will laugh to hear it. If she has overlooked your birth, you may be doubly certain that the
ladies at court will do so.’

‘You are mistaken. Nippet stumbled because of the terrain, not my beastcraft.’

As you will, Arren. Siedra will be in Glount soon enough, whatever she may say.’

‘Let us race to the top of the hill,’ said Arren, digging his heels into Nippet’s side.

Both Oricien and Arren were skilled hunters, but today all the life of the hills seemed fled. The gallumphers enjoyed their exercise, but neither stag nor boar did they
see.

‘Arren, what do you think happened to Guigot?’ asked Oricien as they rode home.

Arren shook his head. ‘He was always wily. Maybe he joined the hill bandits, maybe he even struck north for Mettingloom. He may have gone south to Glount and taken passage
anywhere.’

‘My father worries that he has not been captured.’

‘He is one man,’ said Arren. ‘He can never come near the city without being taken and recognized. For all we know he perished in the wilderness.’

Oricien shook his head. ‘Guigot has too much spite to allow himself to die in obscurity. For my money, if we ever see him again, it will be with Tardolio’s army.’

Arren laughed. ‘Even less reason to worry. By the time Tardolio has gathered the men and the spirit to come back, you will be an old man. With a sister married into the Duchy of Lynnoc,
you will always have an army to call on. There are plenty of more pressing matters to dwell on than Guigot.’