The King's Peace (34 page)

They were not used to being trapped. None of us were. I couldn't work out what the awful waiting reminded me of; it wasn't Caer Lind, when I had been too tired and strung-out to feel it. Raul went up and down several times. Watching him tramp wearily back up the path, pebble swinging, I remembered. I had felt like this at Thansethan, waiting for Darien to be born. I wished Garah was there to share the thought that the day was pregnant with battle. I didn't know anyone else who would have laughed at it. We gave the horses what water there was. We grew very hot and thirsty ourselves.

In the late afternoon Marchel charged them in their rear. She must have collected every scout between Foreth and Caer Lind; she even had a banner. It looked as if she had a whole ala.

She was aiming directly for Sweyn, meaning to kill him and force his sworn men to break the line and chase after her to clear their honor. It would have been a good plan if it had worked. Unfortunately they stood firm and she did not come near him. It was over before we could mount up and come to her aid; she wheeled away to the west as fast as she had come.

"Good," said Urdo, from where we were watching. "Look. She's shifted him." Sweyn was moving his main body around so that they had their backs to the river, although there were still hundreds of them in the trees. "She can't take him in the flank now, but it makes it much better for us. They've nowhere to run to. They'll stay clumped there, too."

As the Jarns moved, Sweyn brought some of his pony men around out of the trees and sent them off after Marchel.

"I hope they catch up with her," I said, "it'll probably make her feel a lot better to have something to wipe out."

"No doubt she'll kill what outliers she finds," Urdo said. "But I think Sweyn's sending them out to watch for her coming back, not to bring her to battle. There's nothing like enough of them."

"I've fought them before," Luth said. "They're pretty useless. Our horses could fight them on their own."

"They were the same at Caer Lind," I said, and grinned at him. He was still looking a little downcast. "Useless. Too small to be much trouble. They seem to have learned to ride them a bit better, though."

"Sweyn, or someone, is trying to learn what works for us," Urdo said, turning his head to watch them go.

Just before sunset Urdo called the praefectos together again in his tent.

"Two can play games with mist," he said. "When it is dark and the mist rises tonight we will send the quartermasters and grooms down to cover over the ditches and fill the holes on the south side. They can take the planks from the depot roof. One of your pennons can cover them, Gwair. Also make some half-peeled sticks from the thorn and the hazel trees down on the east side. Put them with the pale sides facing up towards us so that we can see the safe lanes.

Then when there is light enough after the dawn we will charge." It would be very dangerous work to do in silence, slitting the throats of their guards, filling holes, marking lanes.

Gwair raised his chin. Urdo did not ask for suggestions, and he did not look as if he wanted any. But it had to be said.

My mouth was so dry I squeaked when I began to speak. "What about water?

Wouldn't it be better to charge now while we still have strength?"

"This was a holy place once," Urdo said. "They named the Mother here with names of water. I am going to try and call it here again. The land remembers." Galba caught his breath. "Do not raise hopes among the armigers that may be dashed, but be ready to water the horses when we can."

"Water on the top of a hill?" asked Gwair Aderyn. But he did not sound sceptical, he sounded delighted. The praefectos were exchanging pleased looks that we knew a trick Sweyn did not. I frowned.

"I will do what I can. Luth, set up the sentries. Have them watch the main body of the Jarns as well as they can. If they find out what we're doing, we need notice of it. Gwair, organize covering the pits." Just then a sentry burst in, one of Galba's people. "What is it?"

"More Jarnsmen approaching."

"Up the hill?" Urdo leapt to his feet.

"No, my lord. Along the river. In boats. Lots of them. Flying the walrus flag." The sentry was very young. He was trembling.

"Only Ohtar coming. Thank you." Urdo sounded pleased if anything. I could see the fidchel board, our kingpiece trapped on Foreth between their encircling fighters.

"Ohtar?" echoed Galba as the sentry left.

"We knew he had the ships," Urdo said. "It makes no difference, or rather, it makes it better for us. Ohtar is very bold and does not like to wait about. Now I think they will make a stand tomorrow. Go and do what I have told you. Everyone get as much rest as you can. Share out the grain to the horses tonight with the last of the water. Sulien, stay here." The others rose and left us.

I looked at him. He seemed cheerful and confident. I remembered how I had felt at Caer Lind when I was sure we were going to die and wondered if that was how he was feeling now. I just felt tired and dusty and thirsty. But he looked at me and grinned, and I felt my spirits rising.

"Cheer up," he said. "Now water. No matter what cost we have to pay in time to come, what do you know about the old gods and water?"

"I know what Dalitus wrote," I said.

"What?" Urdo leaned forward eagerly.

" 'Never accuse a superior officer of bluffing.' " Urdo stared at me for a moment, then threw back his head and roared with laughter. When he had his breath again he reached out and hugged me. I raised my eyebrows.

"It's good to laugh," he said, stepping back. "But will you help me?"

"Of course, my lord," I said.

—22—

There rise rills in the peat, waterfalls wear away limestone, over black-flaking slate slide streams
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heady as wine a cool sharp joy to the tongue.

Pools stand under tall trees, and in the cupped rock, deep lakes.

Reed beds rise from the fen, green stalks, brown heads, wet-rooted.

Otters splash in cool brown bogs, dawn dew shimmers on spider silk, and the rain falls fresh from grey clouds.

The slow rivers sweep the plains drawing sweet water down to salt sea.

Water flows and returns, a holy thing is clear water rising up from Earth's depths, falling from high sky, a boon to the thirsty, Coventina's gift.

The leaf turns slowly on the still pool.

— Tanagan charm for purifying water

The sun had set and the moon was rising, silvering the mist that filled the valleys.

Around the hill the Jarnish campfires made a sullen glow. We had no fires. In the distance the peaks of the Breghedan hills were dark distinctive shapes against the starry sky. The camp seemed quiet and restrained as we walked through it. Gwair Aderyn was singing softly. I recognized one of ap Erbin's brother's new songs. We walked away from everyone, up onto the highest point of the hill, where the table stone was. Nobody had camped near it. It made people uneasy. I longed for Garah. Garah had a particular love for the Mother, Breda, she called her, Coventina. I thought of how the water had shot up at Caer Lind when I used Garah's charm. I remembered Garah's mother giving me a cup of milk and honey in Coventina's name.

As we walked I seemed to see shapes moving with us, old kings from forgotten times, priestesses carrying curved knives, a small child running through bracken, steely-eyed sentries guarding walls that were long crumbled. If I looked closely at these shapes they vanished, only to reappear again in the corner of my eye when I looked away. As we came up to the stone I saw Osvran standing there, looking hopeful, talking to a shadow of myself whose face was horribly twisted.

Urdo said nothing and did not slow his walking, so I did not know if he had seen anything. He was the king. Perhaps he saw them all the time. When we came to the rock he stopped, and the shadows faded.

"This is the place and I am here," he said, conversationally. I pulled back my sleeves and reached out my arms, palms downward. I sang aloud Garah's hymn to water that had been in my head since we came away from the camp.

There was no sudden change. I did not even notice for a moment that the change had come.

Urdo nudged me. The hilltop was no longer the top of the hill. There was another, higher, saddle to the north. A rocky path led up between high banks towards it. It looked as if it had always been there and we had not noticed. Urdo went toward it. I followed him, picking my way as best I could over the stones and the dust. Some of the stone was the stuff of the hill and some was loose shale under my boots. It sloped up steeply, it would be too steep to ride easily but not too steep to lead horses. The moon was shining down on us, lighting our way and giving all the shadows very sharp black edges. Bracken grew on the sheer upward sides of the path. I did not look back. The slope grew steeper, and we came over a lip to find a great leaf-shaped pool stretching before us, filling a bowl in the hills. What hills? I looked up and around and saw that the hills of Bregheda were no longer in the distance but around us; we were among them.

I smelled her before I saw her. The pool was full of dark weed, twisting and twining, and I thought some of it must be rotting. The smell was like overripe plants, like the heart of deep mixed forest, a deeply fecund smell. Even when I saw her I thought for a moment she was a seal lying on the rock. Urdo knew at once. He waded straight out into the water towards her. I followed more carefully. The water was shallow, it did not come above my knees. As we came closer she sat up, and I saw that the weed was her hair. I think all the pool was part of her. Maybe the hills as well. She laughed, and the sound was very merry and very amused, and it echoed
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around the bowl of hills like thunder.

"So, my husband, now thou seek me," she said to Urdo, speaking in Tanagan. Her eyes were very big and very dark. Her skin was blacker than I have ever seen on a human person. Her breasts looked like the breasts of a woman who has borne children. She was very beautiful and yet wild and savage, and I feared her.

"I have come," said Urdo. His voice sounded joyful and as wild as hers. "I am king of Tir Tanagiri, and I have come by right."

"Yes, beloved, but what brings thee? Dost thou seek a son to follow?" Her voice left no doubt that she was making the offer woman to man, and not just offering a goddess's blessing to his wife's womb. The lake rippled a little, spreading out from her rock, and I saw Urdo sway a little as it passed him. I felt my cheeks heating and was glad of the darkness. She may have seen anyway, for she laughed again.

"That is not why I have come," Urdo said, cleverly sidestepping the possibility of refusal.

"I seek water for the horses."

"No small thing thou'rt asking, dearest," she said. Urdo bowed his head.

"I know," he said. "And it is no small thing for me to come and ask. I have never asked before.

Until now, I have done it all myself."

"Though thou wed me by the oak tree, all this time thou asked for nothing. When thou'rt dead then I will hold thee, for I know thou truly love me?" Her voice was a little plaintive on this last, but I did not know what she was asking.

"My land, or my people, both, or either. I don't know if there is a difference. I am doing my best, Lady," he said.

"Thou wilt not blame me for thy sister?" Urdo drew in a sharp breath, and shook his head. I had not known Morwen had tricked so many gods.

"Do not speak of it. Her son will never come to my crown." No, I thought, Angas had already proved his faith there. I had forgotten about young Morthu.

"Her great-grandson will, I'm thinking, if the path lies clear before thee."

"That's too far ahead for me tonight, Lady. I know you think far ahead, but the Jarnsmen will have what crown there is if I do not water the horses tonight." She laughed again, and it sounded more like thunder than ever. Her belly rippled, and the pool rocked, splashing around my legs. She seemed to take notice of me for the first time. She smiled, but she looked sad.

"I was with you, by the oak tree," she said to me. "And the child was worth the bearing." I raised my chin. "Ah, stern soldier, dare to love him," she said, very sad now. I could find nothing to say. I didn't know whether I was in time for my love to mean anything to Darien. She looked away, back towards Urdo.

"Ah, thou always knew I'd let thee, small enough a thing to give thee, there's so little we can alter, though we long to, though we love you. Take my water with my blessing.

Fetch the horses, let them drink deep, they will never water better, gifts I give beyond thy knowledge, Rhighanna herself will bless me." Now Urdo laughed.

"My great thanks, Lady."

"One more thing that I can give thee, given long into my keeping." She put her hand beneath the water and drew out a sword. The water sparkled as it ran off in the moonlight. It was so silver as to be almost blue. "Crown and stone thou hast already," she said. "Bear this at thy side in battle. Time and past it saw the sunlight. Come and take it, let me kiss thee." The water rippled again.

Urdo turned to me, and there was a strangeness in his voice. "Sulien, go and get the horses.

Bring them up thirty or so at a time. Get some people to help bring them up. We'll be all night in any case. I will stay here."

I waded back across the lake and down the path, knowing better than to look back.

I feared to step off the path in case it vanished, leaving Urdo far away. I had no choice when I reached the end of it by the table. It stayed while I woke Glyn and Masarn and Rigol. Glyn quickly got people organizing the horses while Rigol and I led the first group up. It was strange, walking along in the darkness with horses, waiting while they drank and leading them back. I saw no sign of Urdo or the Lady by the lake until we had finished. I did not take every group up, but I was there with the last group, my pennon's horses.