The King's Name (3 page)

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Authors: Jo Walton

Tags: #Thirteenth century, #General, #Science Fiction, #Historical, #Women soldiers, #Fiction

BOOK: The King's Name
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Water given after that I would finish her off; it would take it right through her system, and she was twice offered it." My head lolled back against my shoulder. I wondered how Conal had come to know so much about poison.

"But why would Galba's lady poison her own sister?" Emlin asked.

"Because she wants her dead for some good reason," Conal suggested.

"Why should I trust you?" Emlin asked.

"What is the worst that can happen if you do?" Conal asked. He sounded furious. "Your praefecto, with a sore head, will be angry you did too much. Have you ever seen her in this condition, by the way? I thought not. If you don't, well, she'll be dead. She'll also be disgraced.

Dead of drinking is no fit end for a hero's story."

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We had reached the midden. I could barely smell it. "Now, stick your finger down her throat."

"Why me?" Emlin asked, but he took hold of my jaw and did as Conal told him. As his finger went down I

retched and the cider came back out, and my dinner with it, splashing Emlin's boots.

"That's why," Conal said, holding me as far forward as he could. As I retched I began to feel a little better.

"Do it again," I said, but it came out as a gargle.

"What's that?" Emlin asked eagerly. I tried again, but nothing happened.

"See if there's any more that can come out," Conal suggested. Emlin did, and I managed to empty myself.

Then Conal wiped my face with his sleeve and pinched my cheek, frowning. I could see his hand but I could barely feel the touch. "We'd better get her out of here," he said.

"Why?" Emlin asked. "How would that help?"

"Partly because the lady of Magor may well try again," Conal said. "And partly because Sulien may yet die of this if it spreads so she stops breathing. Worse, she could live but like this, paralyzed or part paralyzed." I

jerked and twitched in his hands, trying desperately to move. He was right, I had rather be dead.

"We need to get her home to Derwen. The land will help her there."

"How can we do that?" Emlin asked. "She's in no state to ride."

"Tie her on the horse like a sack of meal," Conal suggested. "I know. I'll take her to her room, in case anyone comes checking. You saddle up horses for you and for her, and bring them around under the window. I'll lower her down to you when I hear you coming, then you can ride for Der-wen."

"I—" Emlin hesitated. He looked at me. "Praefecto?"

I tried to speak, to tell him to do what Conal said, but I couldn't say anything but inarticulate grunts. With all the strength I had I concentrated on my right hand, and managed to make the ala hand signal to tell Emlin he should take Conal's orders. It was the best I could do.

"Understood," he said. He looked worried. As he went out of sight he was chewing on his beard.

Conal lifted me over his shoulder and went back through the house toward my room.

We passed some servants who looked baffled but said nothing. When we got inside Conal propped me against the wall in a slumped position. "Breathe as deep as you can," he said.

"Water wouldn't be a good idea yet." I sat and breathed. He took my armor off the armor stand by the bed. "I'm going to see if I can get this on you," he said. "It's more sensible for riding, and safer in case of arrows. I wish I knew what was happening; she can't have hoped to get away with that. There must be something going on."

I grunted agreement. Conal hauled me up and unwound my drape, dropping it on the floor. He put one of my arms into the armor and stared confused at the breast strapping. I would have liked to laugh; but I would have liked to be able to move my arms even more. Just then there came a tap at the door. In one swift movement

Conal picked me up, dropped me on the bed, and dropped my cloak on top of me. I couldn't turn my head, so

I could see nothing but my armor stand and beyond it the arched Vincan window and, outside, the darkening sky and one branch of a sycamore, the trefoil leaves very dark against the twilight blue.

"Yes?" Conal said, somewhere I couldn't see him. "My lady?" I wished I felt more confident in his ability to stop Au-rien from politely poisoning me again. I couldn't think what I had done to her recently to make her hate me so much. It was twelve years since I had brought Galba home after Foreth.

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"It's me," Emer's voice said. I heard the door open and someone come in. "What game are you two playing?"

she asked, and then, "Conal!"

Conal laughed, and shut the door, still laughing. "Do you doubt me so much?" he gasped, between gales of merriment. "No, I am not sneaking off to betray you with Sulien ap Gwien, dreadful as it seems to see me alone here in her room and her drape thrown on the floor."

"What then?" Emer sounded impatient. "Sulien?"

"She can't talk," Conal said. I flopped my head a little and made a noise that was supposed to be agreement.

I was drooling; it disgusted me to feel it. "She's been poisoned. Ap Trivan and I are going to get her out of here. You can help me get her into her armor. You probably have a better idea of how the confounded fastenings work."

At that Emer gurgled with laughter, and came around into my field of vision. She was carrying a jug of water.

She set it down on the floor and pulled down the cloak, and she and Conal began to dress me. I felt terrible, and worse, I felt sleepy. I knew if I slept, the drug would take me. "Where are you going to take her?" Emer

asked.

"Ap Trivan's going to take her home to Derwen," Conal said.

"Ah, yes. The land will help," Emer said, fastening the straps. I felt like a large, ungainly baby as she forced my legs in.

"You don't seem surprised that the lady of Magor would do such a thing," Conal said.

Emer glanced at me, sighed, then looked up at him. "I have quarreled with my sister. She knows about you, and she has cast me off. A red-cloak came to Aurien this morning with letters."

Conal drew in his breath sharply. "That's nonsense," he said, very gently. He took one of Emer's hands and held it for a moment. "Elenn may well wish you dead, and certainly me, but why Sulien? She was her champion. She is Urdo's friend, and his praefecto and the mother of his son. Death in disgrace would not serve the High King."

"Elenn is not Urdo," Emer said, still looking up at him. "Elenn is an Isarnagan and a woman. Poison is a woman's weapon."

"Aurien is a woman," Conal said. "If Elenn wanted anyone dead it would include me, and probably you as well if she knows. It would be too good a chance for her to miss when we were all together, but none of the other cups were touched. In any case Aurien is no particular friend to Elenn that I have ever heard. Who are her friends?"

"Thansethan," Emer said, unhesitatingly. "That could mean Elenn. Kerys ap Uthbad and her brother Cinvar, the lord of Tathal. Veniva and the people of Derwen, but why would any of them want Sulien dead? Beyond that I do not know."

"Thansethan could mean more than Elenn," Conal said. I was dressed; he walked over to the window and looked out. "But it is not a thing the Pale often do, poisoning their families. I know the White God gives a shield against a great many dangers, but surely not against kin-murder?"

Emer turned to look at him. A strand of her hair was straggling loose down her back. "I think it gives a shield against any perils encountered in their cause," she said. "And they have never been friends to Sulien."

I tried to speak, but it was pointless. I found it hard to imagine Father Gerthmol poisoning me.

It would be an act of war against Derwen, and that would break Urdo's Peace. Whoever killed me he would avenge me, and so would Darien. Darien was a signifer now. I was more inclined to believe that Aurien had done it to stop

Gwien coming to Derwen to spend the summer with me. It was disproportionate, but it was a
Page 10

comprehensible reason.

They both turned to me. "What is it?" Emer asked. She looked at Conal. He raised his eyebrows.

"Do you know why Aurien did it? Do you think Thansethan would poison you?" he asked. I rolled my eyes; it was about all I could manage. Conal snorted. "I don't think so either."

"What are we going to do in the morning when she's gone?" Emer asked, practically.

"Assume she's eloped with ap Trivan and sympathize with Aurien for the scandal of having a sister who drinks so much and shares blankets with her subordinates," Conal said. I rolled my eyes again.

"Should we leave tonight as well?" Emer asked. "Are we in danger here? If she wanted to poison us she's missed her best chance."

"Not if she wanted to get away with it. That story about drinking too much could easily have worked if she'd died in the night. An ignominious end for Urdo's praefecto, but not incredible. Less convincing if it was all three of us, don't you think?"

"It wouldn't have worked on Veniva," Emer said. "Veniva knows how much Sulien drinks, who better? It wouldn't have worked on Urdo either, though Aurien might have thought it would. I suppose if she suspected me she wouldn't have let me bring the water up."

"She can't have been expecting us either," Conal said. "Maybe she only had one dose prepared? I only decided to come on the flick of a wing. I came to Dun Morr with messages to Lew, and as I was bored waiting for you I rode to Derwen, and when I heard Sulien was coming here I came with her. And she must have known you'd be coming through, but not when. You know how surprised I was to see you, my heart." He smiled very deliberately.

"She is awake and listening," Emer said, glancing at me, embarrassed. "I think it would be safer if we all

leave tonight."

"I shall have to send ap Trivan for more horses," Conal said. He leaned out of the window.

"This is a very convenient tree. Ah, here he comes."

I forced my hand to move, to give the hand signal that meant the whole ala. Emer saw, but of course she didn't understand. I couldn't leave them here in danger. Then there were the boys—but I knew Aurien would never hurt her boys, even if she had gone quite mad.

Conal came around behind me and heaved me to my feet. My balance was terrible. I couldn't have stood without being held but my legs seemed to move of themselves. He walked me to the window. I looked down and saw two armed and mounted men, and Beauty. I was glad it wasn't Glimmer. He hadn't been happy with anything that wasn't routine since the time we met Turth. One of the riders was Emlin, the other was Garian. I wished I had been practicing belly flopping onto horses from a height, though it would have done me little good if I had. Conal lowered me down, and Emlin caught hold of me and steadied me into the saddle. I fell forward over Beauty's neck at once. Garian tied my legs to the saddle so I couldn't fall off completely. I caught Emlin's eye, and made the hand signal again. "The ala," I signaled. "To Der-wen. At dawn." Moving them now would probably be more dangerous than staying the night; a dawn move wouldn't seem so suspicious that anyone would go and wake Aurien. Or so I hoped. Emlin looked puzzled.

"But how can I move the ala at dawn if I go with you now?" he asked.

He couldn't, of course. "You stay and move the ala," Conal said. "We'll go with her. Could you get another horse for me? The queen of Dun Morr can ride yours."

I had told him to obey Conal. Conal, for all his faults, was quick-witted and good in an emergency. Emlin dismounted hesitantly, looking at me and up at Conal. Conal lowered Emer out of the window into the saddle of Emlin's horse. Garian steadied her. She muttered something under her breath that included the word

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"greathorses," then straightened in the saddle. Emlin went back toward the stables. He came back much more quickly than he had the first time, when he must have had to wake Garian. It still seemed like a long time, slumped and still on Beauty's broad back. The night air seemed to be doing me good. I was breathing more easily. I struggled to straighten myself but I still couldn't manage it. Beauty stood without complaint. He was too good-mannered to object if I'd decided to sit on his back like an awkward parcel.

As Conal jumped down into the saddle, people carrying torches came running around the corner of the house.

"Stop thief!" they called. I could see the light shining on weapons. "Come on, ride for your lives!" Conal shouted. I could only see behind, not in front. I caught sight of Emlin running back toward the stables. They had no chance of catching us. We were mounted and they were on foot. He was a different matter. I hoped the darkness would cover him. I managed to nudge Beauty with my knees and we went off after the others as fast as a lightning bolt.

—2—

When putting a traitor to the question, banish all emotions and pay close attention.

—Caius Dalitus, The Relations of Rulers

I knew we could make it home to Derwen in a night without killing the horses. I had done it before. I sat in the saddle and let Beauty carry me after the others through the night. We rode as fast as we dared, and for the most part in silence. Gar-ian didn't ask a single question. I think he was born without any curiosity. After we had left the pursuit far behind, Emer and Conal sang together quietly for a while. They sang old Isarnagan songs about feuds and battles and impossible quests. Their voices blended well together. Then they trailed off and we rode on in silence again.

I could have slept if I had let myself. I did not seem to be getting any worse, but nor could I detect any improvement. I hated being carried along like a sack of turnips. From time to time I tried to sit up and failed.

Occasionally I coughed. I could twitch my knees and move one hand, the whole arm if I tried really hard. It was horrible to be so weak. The worst of it was not being able to talk at all. I had always been well until then, and had suffered no more hurt than battle-cuts and bruises, which soon healed. I had thought aging meant being slower at thirty-eight than I had been at eighteen, which could be made up by having better technique.

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