The King's Name (30 page)

"Is it clean?" Garah asked as I unfolded the material. It was green, not the pale green of beech leaves that

Elenn often wore but dark, like a pine forest. Dying linen dark colors was my mother's latest obsession. It required treating the cloth in some special way before soaking it in the dye. She had discovered it when trying to work with Ayl's pink. There had been several months last winter when we had weavers and dyers to dinner every day and it seemed as if she could talk of nothing else.

"Of course," I said. "I have only worn it once since I left home, at Idrien's awful meal at Caer Gloran."

"I meant the armor, but I'm glad about the drape. What was awful about Idrien?"

I told her about Idrien and Cinvar as I folded the drape into the right pleats and pinned it for her. She was horrified. "You mean to say he sent everyone who could fight up to the fort with Kerys and left Idrien just sitting there?"

"I think he was hoping we would kill her and give him an excuse for fighting us," I said. "He said something at the truce talks that made me wonder about that."

"I would never have guessed he was as bad as that," she said. "My opinion of human nature is lower than it was, and I thought not much could shock me after coordinating all the news of the island for Urdo for all those years."

I put my armor on. It was clean, and even polished, ready for the battle. Although it was a warm evening I

settled my white praefecto's cloak on my shoulders. "Ready?" I asked, twitching it so that the golden oak leaves hung straight.

Garah looked down at herself critically. "I don't suppose you have anything to cover my head, the way they do in the north?" she asked. "I don't have the height to carry it off as Vincan elegance the way you do."

I laughed. "I like the way my legs can move in a drape, that's why I wear one. And yes, I do; hold still and I'll fasten it for you."

I wound the cloth around her head and fastened it with my amber brooch. She looked splendid, with a matronly dignity I never aspired to.

"I know it's no use asking you, but I wish I had some powder to cover the bruises on my face,"

she said.

"You only look as if you've been in battle," I said comfortingly. "Why are you so nervous about how you look today?"

"Rowanna terrifies me at the best of times," she admitted. "And I've been hearing Morthu calling me worthless for days on end, I suppose. I feel a fraud. I am a farmer's daughter, after all."

"You are a farmer's daughter; your parents were well when I left Derwen. And you are the queen of Bregheda, and you look it," I said. "I'm sure Elidir will have some powder you can borrow.

She uses that sort of thing."

Some of the armigers of Galba's ala did, too, but I felt Garah would be more comfortable with someone she knew.

We went through the camp to find Elidir. Before we reached her tent we came across Darien, wearing a dark blue drape, talking to Ulf. As we came up to them Ulf put something into Darien's hand and went away rapidly. I quickened my pace. Darien was standing staring after Ulf as if dazed. My first thought was that Ulf had made some claim of paternity. This was strengthened when I saw what Darien was holding, which was

Ulf's armring.

"Oh, hello," he said, when he noticed us.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

Page 112

"Oh yes," he said. Then he shook his head a little and looked at me as if he was just seeing me. "I just had a couple of surprises. Ulf gave me this." He lifted the armring so I could see it, then pushed it on and up his arm, where the gold was just visible under the fold of the drape. It was just how Ulf had been wearing it at the

truce talks. "I know why, of course, but it still surprised me."

"Why?" Garah asked. I was choking down astonishment and anger. Darien wasn't supposed to know. As far as I knew, he believed Urdo was his father.

"Well, because he's sure he's going to die tomorrow, and this is the armring of his family, and by giving it to me he's giving his claim to be the king of the Jarns to Urdo." He hesitated and turned the ring a little with his other hand. "Or rather, giving it to me because giving it directly to Urdo would be too obvious, I suppose. But I

wasn't expecting it at all." He blinked again. "When did you get here, ap Gavan?"

"This afternoon," Garah said.

"Can I see the armring?" I asked. Darien put his arm out and I looked at the worked gold. As long as Ulf had done it in a way that didn't make Darien suspect, then it was all right. Seen as Ulf's claim to be king of the

Jarns it even made a sort of sense. "Is it very heavy?" I asked.

"No heavier than this," he said, touching his throat selfconsciously. He was wearing a heavy gold tore, twisted in the old style from before the Vincans came. "It seems to be my day for being given strange heirlooms. The dowager Rowanna found this in Caer Segant.

She said it was Avren's and Urdo should have it.

Urdo said I should have it. He insisted. And that I don't understand. He wasn't like himself."

"Did he tell you about the queen?" Garah asked.

"What about her?" Darien asked.

"She refused to escape from Caer Tanaga with Garah," I said. "Urdo's very distressed about it."

"What do you mean refused?" Darien asked.

"She's been listening to Morthu," Garah said. "He told her that Urdo had been treating Sulien like a wife, and she believed it."

"Damn Morthu and his poisoned tongue!" Darien said, immediately furious. "I need to talk to Urdo about this."

"Not now," I said. People were already moving through the camp. "After the feast."

"Yes. Will you come with me?" he asked.

"Of course," I said. "But as for strange heirlooms, will you have one from me?" I hadn't known I was going to say it until the words were out of my mouth. But it felt right. I had given him so little, all these years. "If you can spare one of the brooches on your drape to stop Garah's hair falling down, this amber brooch is an heirloom of our house, given to me by my father from his treasure."

Garah put her fingers up to the pin immediately, but Darien did not move. "Thank you," he said. "I have often seen you wearing it. But if you don't mind, I won't take it now. I have this awful foreboding of being weighed down by gold and with nobody to give me good advice.

Give it to me another day, if you will."

With that he walked away from us. Garah shivered a little. "He has grown up," she said.

We went on through the camp. By the time we found Elidir, Garah only just had time to pat her face with some powder before we had to make our way up the hill to the feast.

The sun was sinking toward the clouds massing in the west, and the camps were full of cheering people.

There were too many of us for everyone to eat together. The five alae, the two Isarganan armies, the militias of

Derwen and of Segan-tia, and Alfwin's army all ate in their own camps. Their food was what
Page 113

it would have been any day, with the addition of some fruit and ale from Caer Segant. All the same, they seemed to have caught the festival spirit. Even the sick and wounded had come out of their tents to participate. Maybe it was the sight of our massed banners on the hill, making a brave array. Maybe it was the music, for everywhere I

went I seemed to be tripping over a Segantian musician. Or it might just have been the relief that we were going to fight at last and leave this camp. However it was, they cheered me and Garah as we made our way toward the hill, and they called our names.

Garah stopped unexpectedly. "They've got a Breghedan banner," she said, and tears welled in her eyes.

They had indeed, just one, but plain to see among all the other colors. "Don't cry, you'll wash off all the powder," I said.

Garah gave a choked laugh. "Yes, but a Breghedan banner! Wait till I tell Glyn."

As we came nearer I saw that it was a gold charge banner hastily tacked onto someone's red cloak. I don't know how Rowanna managed to make it so quickly even so, and the effect from a distance couldn't have

been better.

We sat in a circle to eat, sitting where Rowanna put us. One of her servants rilled our cups with Narlahenan wine. Most of us drank from leather or wooden cups, but for Urdo Rowanna had set out a gold cup and a gold plate. I had never seen such a thing, and had heard of them only in old tales. I wondered what else she had hidden away in chests in Caer Segant.

Everyone was dressed in their best. Masarn was sitting between ap Erbin and Alswith, clearly, but not indecorously, drunk. Alswith's hair was caught up in a net of silver mesh on top of her head, which looked spectacular. Alfwin sat on Alswith's other side, wearing even more gold than Darien. Atha sat next to him, with a patterned shawl over her head. One of her captains sat beside her, a quiet sensible man called Leary ap Ringabur. Raul was next, wearing his brown robes as always. Then came Ohtar, in all his barbaric finery.

Garah was beside him. Then Darien, in his blue and gold, between her and me. Urdo was on my other side. I

wondered how Elenn would take this when she heard. Urdo was dressed in white linen with a purple silk cloak. Rowanna sat on his right, veiled and formal, a captain beside her, in armor. Cadraith was next, in red velvet fastened with gold Vincan pins. Then came Teilo, in her robes. On her other side sat Inis, in his crazy colored shawl. Emer sat up very straight on his right, clearly having been persuaded to eat with Atha after all, though I didn't see her eating anything. She was wearing a white dress that was a little large for her, and which I suspected of being borrowed from Alswith. Her two arm rings were her own though; I had seen them often before. Between her and ap Erbin sat Luth, in his famous blue breastplate and his praefecto's cloak.

It was a strange meal, half tactical discussion of the coming battle and half diplomatic exercise.

Urdo did not indicate by any word or sign that his heart was less than entirely in what he was doing. The earlier distress might never have been. I felt strangely detached, as if I were watching everything rather than participating. It seemed we were to fight down the road a little way, near a branch of the river called Agned, where the road crosses the river on a bridge. Urdo explained it all very clearly, and made sure everyone understood what the ground was like and what their part in the battle was going to be. A lot of it depended on how the enemy arranged themselves. I kept realizing I hadn't said anything for a long time and ought to speak, but I didn't have anything to say. Inis, too, spoke very little, and that little mostly to Emer. When we got up to leave he came up and put his hand on my arm. "Bear up, hero," he said. I stared after him as he went off down the hill with Atha. They even got a cheer from the armigers who were waiting to see us come down.

Page 114

Garah went off to bed. Darien and I went with Urdo to his tent.

"I'm glad that's out of the way," Urdo said, stretching and yawning. "It was important to my mother, and I have done it, but I would rather have had a conference about tactics, as usual."

"So would I," I agreed, sitting down. "Do you think the Is-arnagans will understand what you want them to do?"

"Atha seemed to. But it's hard to plan much in advance. So much of it depends on how they use Angas's ala," Urdo said, lighting a little lamp and pouring more wine. "And whether we can make a difference right at the beginning."

"I wish I could have spoken to Angas," I said, remembering his face on the first day of the talks.

"I'm sure he's not there entirely willingly."

"Morthu has bewitched him with his voice," Darien said.

"People cannot be persuaded by things against their will," Urdo said, and there was pain in his voice.

"They can by sorcery," Darien said. "I could get angry to think how you will believe anything rather than face that, but I know it is more sorcery affecting you. Think. I wanted to talk to you about the queen, and it is the same for Angas. It isn't that Morthu persuades people, though he does, it is sorcery. He weaves a spell of words. He takes the way people are, and takes their weaknesses, and makes power for himself out of them.

If they have no weaknesses he turns then-strengths against them, as a knife can be turned. He does this with words, with some power of his voice, but it is sorcery, I am sure of it. I have been hearing him do it since I

was a child at Thansethan. It works on everyone around me and nobody will ever see it. He infects people with despair, and he twists their hearts. He has done this to Angas, and to the queen. He has done it to you, to both of you. He hasn't persuaded you to join him, but you are thinking better of him than he deserves, or than his actions merit. You know he can do it, but you don't think of it clearly."

"He twists people's strengths?" Urdo asked. "How?"

"Your mercifulness and your desire to be fair, to give the benefit of the doubt, and to keep to the Law," Darien said, the lamplight reflecting on his gold as he leaned forward.

"I had never thought of those as faults in a king," Urdo said, his voice very strange.

"They are not. That is what is so terrible about Morthu," Darien said, jumping to his feet and pacing the tent as if he could no longer bear to be still. "They are strengths, I said they were. But think how you exiled

Marchel after Varae, but how you have spared Morthu time after time."

"There was never clear evidence before the Law, which there was for Marchel," I said, to save Urdo saying it.

He was weeping, and futile though it was I wished I could spare him some of the pain.

"He knew that and used it," Darien said. "And he made you feel sorry for him and that he could change. I

have seen him doing this time after time. He did it at Thansethan. He made Father Gerthmol's kindliness into weakness, and his love of order into rigidity. I didn't understand at first, but then I saw enough of it. The worst of it is that people can't see it. You would rather think the queen a fool and a traitor than believe in his sorcery. Elenn could never betray us, there is no treachery in her. She is everything a great queen should be: beautiful, clever, diplomatic, skilled at logistics. Consider how honorably she has always treated me. But