The Still (56 page)

Fostrow ducked one blow, unable either to mount or free his leg.

I gasped, “Wait, Genard.” The boy slowed.

Behind us, the guard loomed over Fostrow. He raised his sword for a triumphant blow. From behind, Anavar’s hand caught the man’s jerkin. His steed reared, but the guard recovered his balance. With a cry of rage he turned, to receive Anavar’s dagger full in the heart.

Fostrow threw himself on his captured horse with such vehemence he almost fell off the far side. Frantically, he righted himself. Anavar maneuvered to avoid the blows of the remaining guard. With a howl, Fostrow spurred toward him, sword raised.

The guard fled.

I hung dizzily to the pommel as we raced toward the hills.

“We can’t slow, Roddy. Lord of Nature knows how many Tantroth sent after us.” Fostrow ignored my glare. “You think we’ve eluded them, but would you gamble the crown on it?”

I looked back to our scout, who brought up the rear. “The way I feel, yes.” We’d pressed onward ever since we’d rejoined our scouts at the edge of town, and it was all I could do not to fall out of the saddle.

Anavar sat dejected on his horse, staring at nothing.

I snarled, “Did you hear that scoundrel—what’s the matter?”

Anavar rubbed his horse’s mane. “I lost my dagger.”

I snorted, “Is that all?”

The Eiberian said, “It’s
how
I lost it.”

“In battle? That’s honorable.”

“Not for me.”

I stared.

“I warned you, sir, I would not raise a hand against my lord Tantroth.” He pursed his lips. “I killed his man.”

“But he would have—”

“It matters not. Surely even you can see that.”

“Even
I?” I reached across, grasped his jerkin. “How say you?”

With staggering insolence he slapped away my hand. “I would not be touched, sir.”

My mouth worked in voiceless fury. If not for my dizziness, I’d have flung him to the ground. “I should beat you!”

Anavar’s eyes met mine. “As you choose, my lord. Better I had accepted Tursel’s death when I was felled.”

“What’s this?” Fostrow’s tone was sharp. “At each other’s throats, and for what?”

“For honor!” Anavar spoke before I was able.

“Faugh. For weariness, and relief from fear. And hunger. There’s flat bread left, and a bit of the dried meat.” He reached into his saddlebag. “Eat, before you—”

“Let Prince Rodrigo partake!” Anavar spurred ahead.

Not to be outdone, I snapped, “I’ll starve first!”

Fostrow’s voice was mild. “What was that about?”

“He stabbed a guard of Eiber, and has regrets.”

“As well he should. You comforted him?”

“I would have.” I rode in silence.

Fostrow sighed. “Go after him, Roddy.”

“Is that a command?”

“If it were in my power, yes.” Fostrow searched my expression. “He’s your man, and in pain.”

“I’m
in pain!” I seized his arm. “This knot over my eyes, my wrists ... Where’s your compassion for your lord?”

“His pain is greater. He’s dishonored his oath.”

“By his own choice. He could have remained in camp with Captain Tursel and Rust.” And if so, I’d be screaming on the rack, or endungeoned. “Imps and demons take you!” I kicked, and dutifully, the horse responded.

I found Anavar not far ahead, resting on his mare, by a babbling rivulet. I knew not what to say.

“Will you beat me?”

“Have no fear.”

“I have none. Will you?” It was a challenge.

“Punish yourself, if you did wrong to Tantroth. Don’t demand it of me.”

“I speak of my incivility to you.”

“You speak of Tantroth!” I grasped his chin, turned it toward me, saw the tears I’d heard in his voice. “On the shore road you saved Fostrow, who was rescuing me.”

“I know.”

“It pleases you not?”

“That I betrayed my kinsmen?”

I lapsed silent, thought long. “Anavar ... Stay my ward, or be released. Go home to your father, or serve Tantroth even against my cause. I give you leave to choose your life.”

With a cry, he buried himself in his own arms.

I sat helpless. Rustin had the art of comfort. I did not.

After a time his voice came, strained. “Lord Prince, what should I do?”

I didn’t want the burden of his choice. Yet his gallantry, his bravery, had saved me. I said, as if I knew truth, “You’ll remain my ward. After, when Caledon is restored, I’ll treat with your father, with Tantroth himself if need be, for your safe release. Until then ...” I hesitated, grasping for something within reason. “You may harm your own people only to save me, or my brother, or Lord Rustin my guardian. For no other end. This, I command.”

His voice was muffled. “Thank you, sir.”

“As to tonight ... your bruises haven’t so faded that you would forget my foul temper. I don’t know that I could restrain myself to beat you lightly as befits a boy; my cruelty is too great. Therefore do not taunt me, most especially when Rustin isn’t near to stay my hand.”

“I heed you.”

“Anavar, it will be for your father, for your liege, to judge your loyalty to them, when time comes. For me, I deem you honorable and would so say to any man. Take that unto your conscience.”

His hand crept out, found mine.

I shivered. “We’ve both scorned dinner, and I’ll warrant we both starve.”

He raised his face, with a shy smile. “I’ll eat if you will.”

“Done.”

A
S THE SOGGY DAY
waned, the banners of our encampment drifted into view. When we neared, my tent flap opened.

Like a small child to a mummers’ wagon Rustin raced toward our party, bereft of dignity, legs pumping. “Roddy! Welcome, my prince! How did it go?” He seized my reins as I brought the mare to a halt.

“A fiasco.” I practically fell into his arms. “Is there such a thing as a hot bath? Tea? A bed?”

With care, he raised the hair from my brow. “Who split your head? Where was Fostrow? What happened? What of Vessa?”

“Give the lad a moment’s peace,” Fostrow said. “I’ll allow he’s had a rough time of it.”

I groaned as Rust helped me strip off my odious jerkin. “Vessa was Mar’s man to the core. Tantroth caught me in his house, and I know not Vessa’s fate.”

“How did you—tell me all!”

“Later. Take care of me, Rustin.” For a moment I thought I would weep. “Let me be a boy until I’m well.”

That, he didn’t do. But he clucked over me like a mother hen, brought me hot water to soak in, steaming tea to inhale, wrapped straw to lie on. I dozed in the crook of his arm and let him ply me with questions until he was satisfied.

“I told you to let me come along,” he chided, but I barely heard. After a time, I slept.

By night I felt well enough to join my trusted few at the campfire. “Groenfil,” I told Tursel. “I’ve no other prospect.”

He frowned. “To avoid Tantroth’s patrols, our best choice is to retrace our steps and cross Soushire’s hills. I’ve no men who know those passes. We risk ambush, attack, betrayal.”

Rustin said, “You forget, Roddy, we’re expected in Verein.”

“Where? Oh!” I’d managed to put Uncle Mar completely out of mind. “I escaped one snare by the fur of my tail. Why set myself another?”

Rust said, “We’d all be with you.”

“Wonderful. We could swing together from the gibbet.”

“Groenfil’s citadel won’t vanish in the night. Let’s learn what wiles Margenthar would practice.”

I scowled, stifling a cough. “Said you not once, that statecraft was my domain?”

“Yes. As advice is mine.”

I sat shivering a while longer. “I’ll go back to bed.”

Anavar said, “Good night, sir. My father says thoughts during sleep are wiser than—”

“May imps gnaw your father!” I thrust aside the tent flap.

Later, Rustin and I lay talking, and before I knew it, he’d woven a ring through my nose: I agreed to visit Uncle Mar at Verein before riding as I wished to Groenfil. For spite, I made him rub the ache from my back, until the candle guttered.

Late at night, I went out of our tent to relieve myself, and heard a creak in the cart that carried our supplies. Wary of thieves and marauders, I crept close.

A groan from within startled me. Dagger drawn, I jumped into the cart, landed with a thud on Anavar, whose hands shot to his lowered breeches.

Under him lay a camp woman, her bare breasts gleaming in the moonlight.

Betrayal.

White rage seized me, such as seldom I’d felt. I’d have plunged my dagger into his back had not he gibbered in terror and brought me to my senses. I flung the Eiberian out of the cart. The woman screamed.

I leaped onto the frightened boy. “You’d rut with whores outside my very tent?” I aimed a kick, that barely missed. “Touch her again and I’ll ...”

“Please, my lord!”

Rustin charged out of the tent, sword drawn. Uncertainly, he lowered his blade. “Roddy?”

“Vile foreign scum! Stay away from our servants! Keep your parts sheathed, or I’ll serve them to you for dinner!”

Rust strode across the clearing, interposed himself between me and the Eiberian. “Let go the dagger, Roddy.”

“It’s all right, I won’t—”

“Now!” He caught my wrist

Sullenly, I let it fall. “I won’t go berserk.”

“You already have.” Rustin peered inside the cart, nodded. “So I thought.”

“They were—”

“It happens.” He turned, extended a hand to Anavar. “Up, boy.” He swung the Eiberian to his feet “Raise your breeches; the sight maddens our prince.”

Half in tears, Anavar covered himself, thrust in his shirt. “We just—I didn’t—it was only ...”

“Easy, lad.” Rust clapped his shoulder. I swallowed; I hadn’t meant to harm the boy. Well, perhaps I had, but I’d mastered myself now, and—

“Roddy, run down the line, check all the campfires. Other soldiers may be lying with women.”

“Don’t mock me!”

“What else am I to do? Go to the tent.”

It was a way out of my embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Anavar.” I fled.

A few moments later Rustin slipped inside, tied the drawstring. “No doubt he’ll remember the occasion.”

I sat with head in my hands. “It’s just ... he’s so young. He’s free to frolic in the night, while I only ...”

“Only have me. Tact, Roddy, is one of your lesser virtues.” He sat by my side. “Is that a smile, hiding under the pout?”

“Oh, Rust.” I was near tears. “Is the True worth it all?”

“Answer yourself.”

“The kingdom’s dissolving, and I’ve certainly not wit enough to hold it together without our family wisdom. I know that, but ...”

“You want a woman.”

“Desperately.”

A long silence. When we returned to bed, we lay apart.

Verein was many leagues through the hills, far from the sea, well east of the tablelands of grain that fed Castle Stryx.

Recovered from my misadventures, I rode peaceably with Rustin and Elryc. The day was clear and cloudless, and Tantroth’s black sails far from sight.

Under strict orders to refrain from pillage, our troop passed through the few hamlets that sprouted amid the rocky farms. Seeing we were in good order, folk came out from their rude houses to watch the procession. Almost, I donned the crown to show them splendor they’d not soon forget. But I knew it would be presumptuous, and might offend the True.

“Only one thing could ruin this day,” I joked. “Coming upon Hester and her creaking cart.”

“Think you she came this way?” Elryc studied the road, as if for ruts.

“How other?” By her years of service and her wild antics in departing Stryx, Hester had made herself too well known to pass again through the town; she’d make a wide detour. So our path might indeed be hers.

When Fostrow, Anavar, and I had circled the ravines behind the castle to slink into Stryx, we’d dared sneak close behind the stronghold, prepared to flee at the crack of a branch. Now, in paradox, though we were stronger by far, we must give the walls wider berth. It would not do to confront in force either Mar’s loyal troops or those of Tantroth.

Hour after hour we trudged, and at night our campfires dimmed the blanket of stars. By day Tursel sent scouts ranging for provender. They were ordered to buy foodstuffs with Earl Cumber’s stipend, rather than seize provisions, but I doubted all would. How were we to know the provenance of a lamb, or a brace of chickens? Such were the ways of war. Churls expected it.

As sun was fading, we found ourselves well past Stryx, entering the region of Verein. I asked Rustin, “Should I breathe easier when we’re within a league from Mar’s stronghold, in the province of his safe-conduct?”

Rust was half dozing in the last rays of afternoon. “Always breathe easy, my prince.”

Elryc said, “Not so, brother.” He shifted in his saddle. “Can you imagine Mar wishes us well?”

“Not really.”

“Nor I.” He patted his mount’s flanks, guided her away from roadside brush. “Look.” He lifted his cloak, showed me the small sharp dagger within.

“What of it?”

“If Uncle Mar plays us false ...” He licked his lips.

I said lightly, “I’m sworn to protect you. If not, Hester will turn me into a toad.”

“I won’t be taken like Pytor, Roddy.” His eyes lifted to mine, as his hand flitted to the blade. “It’s for me, as much as them. I’ll end myself first.”

“Elryc!”

He shivered. “On the battlements of Stryx, hidden in that cursed barrel, I had little to distract my thoughts. Visions of a rope tightening around my throat, or an unseen knife in the night ... no!”

“When we meet I’ll keep you and Uncle Mar apart, in the tents. He won’t even know you ride with us.”

“Of course he’ll know; did I cover my face when we cantered through the hamlets? Besides, I can’t hide myself and take part in your counsels.”

“You’re too young to—” I sighed, biting off the rest. Someday, I’d learn not to make rash promises.

At last, late the next morn, we saw the pennant fluttering from the high tower. I bade Tursel call a halt “Send an envoy, with the usual ornate greetings. We’ll meet my uncle on the field.”

Rustin stretched. “I have another thought. Invite him to our camp. With full safe-conduct, of course.”

“Ha.” My mouth twitched. “Neatly done, and he’d be livid.”