The King's Name (26 page)

traitor? To you as self-appointed king of all Jarnsmen everywhere? It is no treachery to be in the losing side of a battle. Sweyn was dead, which takes back all oaths I made to him. I made my peace with the High King, I

swore to serve him, and I have."

Cynrig raised his chin. "I too. And I have prospered in Urdo's service, and will marry a Tanagan girl of rank at

Midwinter." I kept my eyes straight ahead. I had been told about his betrothal already. I suppose decurio is a rank, and she was serving as key-keeper, but that was not what was normally meant. Bradwen's parents were farmers in Derwen. Arling locked eyes with Ulf and ignored Cynrig.

"Will you still claim dominion over all Jarnsmen?" Urdo asked. I happened to catch Ayl's eye, and he squirmed. Then he looked away and set his jaw.

"Yes," Arling said. "Even of these traitors." He sounded as if he meant it absolutely.

"Now that you see they are not hostages, we could speak of ransoming the queen," Darien said.

It was the first time he had spoken for hours, and everyone turned to look at him. The blood rose in his cheeks, but he did not look away from Arling.

"What ransom would you give for her?" Arling asked.

"Yes, what are you prepared to give to get her back?" Morthu echoed.

It was a difficult question. With Caer Tanaga Arling had captured the greater part of our treasure. "Safe passage for you and your people back to Jarnholme, with what coin you have gained of this expedition, and peace between us thereafter," Darien said.

Arling laughed. "That I could have already, boy, if I wished it," he said. My hands twitched, sorry my sword was set down outside the bounds of the herald-peace. He turned to Urdo.

"Acknowledge me king of the

Jarnish Eastlands, and I will return both your queen and your city."

It was so quiet that I could tell that Ohtar was holding his breath.

"You set a high price on one woman, to think you could have what otherwise you would have to fight a war to gain," Urdo said. Ohtar exhaled, audibly.

"One woman?" Morthu said, and looked at me insolently.

"Yes, we have heard you have another, but the queen is prettier," Arling said. I gritted my teeth. Darien gripped the table in both hands, so hard that his knuckles whitened.

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Urdo, amazingly, laughed. "Talk about things you understand," he said. "Arling Gunnarsson, I will offer you gold for the queen's release. How much would you have? In the old laws of Jarnholme the price is half that of a king, the same as for a huscarl. Will you take four panniers'

worth of gold?"

"I will consider it," Arling said.

"It is time," Father Cinwil said. We all rose and bowed.

"A word, brother," Ulf said, in Jarnish, as we left the shade of the awning. "A word here, outside the peace-holy place." Arling hesitated, and turned and came toward Ulf. We all waited, standing in two uneasily wavering lines.

"Yes?" Arling asked. Now they were standing, everyone could see that Ulf was a hand taller than his brother.

"You will not go back to Jarnholme?"

"No. Will you give up this foreign king and come and serve me?"

"Never, so long as you are a fool," Ulf said, and the contempt was clear in his words. "Will you persist in this breaking of the Peace, this taking guidance from the sorcerer?"

Arling glanced at Morthu. "He is no sorcerer but a holy man," he said, touching his pebble.

"And what should

I care for your Peace?"

"You should be king enough to care," Ulf said, turning the armring he wore with his fingers. "This is our grandfather's armring. I am your brother still, your older brother, and though I cannot be king, I am still head of the family."

"For what that is worth to a childless man who limps," Arling agreed, cautiously.

"By the blood we share," Ulf said, facing Arling and raising his hands, palm up, so that his arms were spread wide. Behind me somewhere, Ohtar made a noise, and the late light of the sun caught and burned on the great gold armring of the House of the Kings of the Jarns, bright enough to make my eyes water.

Ulf's voice was strong, and very clear. "By my death, I curse you; by the shades of the fallen, I curse you; by the graves of our fathers, I curse you; the cold hand grasps you strong—never shall you lead to victory, never shall you rest hallowed, never shall your line survive. Thurr smite you; Frith wither you; Fritha spurn you; Uller hunt you; Freca blind you; Noth drown you; Tew slay you; Hel rot you; Fury rend you; Doom find you."

Ulf turned his palms down, slowly. All the time he had been speaking, color had been leaving Arling's face, until the pebble he wore was darker than he himself was.

Ulf lowered his arms to his sides and spat hard at the feet of his brother. Arling bent almost as a man struck hard in the stomach would bend, though the spittle did not touch him but only landed on his shadow. His pale eyes flashed. "You have no power, no power to curse me,"

he said, but his voice cracked. He looked to

Morthu, who smiled and made a gesture with his hands.

"There is no harm in such cursing, it is nothing but words," Morthu said, also speaking Jarnish.

What Emer had told me about curses came back to me, and I knew he was wrong. "If it will hurt anyone it will be himself.

Let us think no more about it and go back to Caer Tanaga, and see whether the queen wishes to join these traitors and tyrants and adulterers."

Anger had been building in me all afternoon, and I was angry then. But that was not why I leapt.

I could have taken one more meaningless insult, and I hardly knew for sure what the Jarnish word meant. But I was nearer than Darien, and out of the corner of my eye I could see him preparing to move. Before he could do anything to break the truce beyond mending, I leapt toward Morthu. I did not touch him. There was triumph and just a little fear in his eyes. I could tell that he had been hoping to provoke me, or one of us. I could see that Arling and Ayl were
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both moving to help him. As much as I wanted to, I did not break his neck. I moved my hand very slowly and put it on his arm, just at the edge of his cloak, where it was bare. We must have looked like people about to go in to dinner together. He stayed absolutely still, but there was no hidden laughter in his eyes now.

"You say there is no harm in cursing?" I said, as loudly as I could. I saw Arling stop, then take a step away.

"Well then, I, Sulien ap Gwien, will curse you, by the gods of my people, and we will see what comes of it. I

will curse you, Morthu ap Talorgen, such that if you go to Caer Tanaga it will be your death."

As I said it I reached out to the Lord of Light and to the Mother and to the Shield-Bearer, and I wove their names with mine and Morthu's into the curse. Then I felt the threads of the world shifting so that what I had said was true, and if Morthu went to Caer Tanaga he would die. I knew this as clearly as I knew that if I

dropped a stone it would fall to the ground. I need not drop it, but if I did, it would fall. He need not go, but if he did, that would be the end of him. I don't know why I picked going to Caer Tanaga especially, except that he had just said he would go there, in his insult to the queen. As I spoke the last syllable there was a blinding flash of light. I dropped my hand, and stood blinking.

Morthu was lying on the grass. He must have dropped suddenly while everyone closed their eyes. "I am slain!" he wailed. "The demon ap Gwien has attacked me!"

"A demon!" Cinon shouted. "A demon, I always said she was."

I looked around. Morthu was on the ground. Everyone else in front of me was backing slowly away. "I didn't touch him," I said.

"Does this break the truce, Father Cinwil?" Morthu asked, in a faint but clearly audible voice.

I could have stamped on his throat right then. I was ready to do so if the truce was broken.

"I shall have to consult," Father Cinwil said fussily, coming to Morthu and checking him for wounds. Naturally he found nothing.

"I didn't touch him," I whispered to Raul as he came past me to join the other priest. He looked at me as if I

were a toad someone had put into his bed.

"Morthu ap Talorgen is unhurt," Urdo said loudly, in the voice he used when he didn't want argument. "The

Lord of Derwen may have been rash to curse him, but he himself said curses have no power.

Sulien ap Gwien is the queen's champion, and it was too much for her, as it was hard for all of us, to hear ap Talorgen so malign her."

"But the light!" Angas said, his voice accusatory. "All that you say is well enough maybe; I do not think much of Gun-narsson and Morthu's treatment of the queen myself. And anyone can lose their temper. But that light!"

"That was not my light," I said. Ayl was making a Thunderer sign with his fist, and moving away from me.

"I will never sit down again with that demon," Cinon said, clutching at his pebble.

"Ap Talorgen is unhurt," Father Cinwil said, at last, helping Morthu to his feet. "We will consult, and inform you."

We walked back up the hill, without Raul. "I'm sorry," I said to Urdo as we picked up our weapons.

"That's all right," he said. "If you had killed him, we'd have had to fight right away, and probably on bad ground."

"I wasn't apologizing for not killing him," I said.

Urdo grinned. "I don't think they will conclude that the truce is broken. And if you are a demon
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you won't have to sit under that awning in the heat listening to all of that."

"Can I be a demon, too?" Ohtar asked in a deep rumble. "I don't understand what they think they'll gain. Do you think Arling will take gold for the queen?"

"It's possible," Urdo said, not looking at any of us.

"Do we have that much gold?" Cadraith asked. "Back in Caer Asgor I have some, but not here."

"Caer Segant is nearer, and not lacking in gold," Urdo said. They went on up the hill. I was fumbling with the buckle of my sword belt.

"That was a real curse," Darien said to me, waiting.

"Yes," I said.

"Gunnarsson's was a real curse, too," he said.

Ulf had only gone a few steps up the hill, his ax in his hand. He stopped and looked up for the first time since he had cursed Arling. "It was," he said. He looked at Darien, and then at me. "I am so angry with Arling for being such a fool, for spoiling everything we have been building here. And I'm so sorry I killed your brothers, Praefecto. If I hadn't, none of this would have happened."

He was right, of course. If my brother Darien had lived, everything would have been different.

"It was not by your own will," I said awkwardly.

"I killed your brother Galba, too," he said. "I don't know if you ever knew that. At Foreth."

I hadn't known. But it was a battle; we had been on different sides. It was a good thing nobody had told

Aurien. "Why are you telling me this?"

"He wants you to be the instrument of doom that kills his brother," Darien said, as if this should be obvious to a gatepost.

I looked at Ulf, who was swinging his ax nervously.

"Oh," I said. "Oh. All right then. If I get the chance, I have no least objection in the world."

—15—

Delightful is a tree in full leaf a wonder are the roses of Summer, when a beautiful woman passes near somebody is 'watching.

How can I sleep when your soft breathing fills the air of the hall?

Alone in the dark I long for you.

Everything reminds me.

Delightful are the golden leaves a wonder are the berries of Autumn, when a beautiful woman speaks somebody is listening.

How can I see when you are my horizon?

When your shadow falls between me and the wide world?

Everything reflects you.

Delightful are the bare branches a wonder are snows of Winter, when a beautiful woman is sad somebody takes notice.

How can your insolent husband ignore you?

How can he slight your honour when I would long to give you everything your heart seeks?

Delightful are the buds on the trees a wonder is the promise of warmth, when a beautiful woman looks up somebody is waiting.

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—Spring, Cian ap Gwinth Gwait

Emer and her troops had come into camp while we had been at the discussions. She and Atha were glaring at each other over Masarn's head as we approached Urdo's tent. Emer had her hand pressed to her face, which was usually a sign that she was unhappy.

"Good Merciful Lord, have they ever been on the same side before?" Darien murmured to me.

"Briefly, when they invaded us after Foreth," I replied. Darien rolled his eyes and we went forward with Urdo, Cadraith, and Ohtar to greet them. Ulf and Cynrig left us to go back to their friends. I envied them.

"I have settled the troops from Dun Morr near your ala, by the stream," Masarn said to me when we had all exchanged greetings.

"A good idea," I said. My ala were more used to them than the others, at least. And that arrangement would keep them far away from Atha, which was nothing but good news. Most of Atha's troops were still around

Caer Tanaga, but enough were here to make it very awkward if Isarnagan rivalries took fire.

After a little while of exquisitely painful politeness, I excused myself to bathe and visit the wounded. Cadraith went off to his own ala. Emer came with me, to settle her troops, she said. I noticed she was still limping a little from the wound she took in the fight in the woods. "What is that woman doing here?" she asked, as soon as we were out of earshot.

"She has come to avenge Conal," I said.

Emer laughed and tossed her hair back in a way that made me think that she was very near tears.

"Avenge

Conal," she said. "Atha the Hag to avenge Conal?"