The Twelve Kingdoms (17 page)

He looked satisfied. Maybe even relieved. “Then let's plan our strategic retreat.”

It didn't take much plotting to betray my King. It helped that Harlan's men had so thoroughly replaced the usual palace guard that they simply obeyed his command to let all he designated, including my Hawks, pass through the gates.

I tried not to let that rankle too much.

I also had the disturbing realization of how thoroughly Uorsin had handed over the defenses of Ordnung to these contracted soldiers and how much of the familiar guard seemed to have disappeared. Another manifestation, perhaps, of Illyria's machinations.

We left in the predawn darkness. Moranu's moon had set and Glorianna's sun was still hours off. Riding only by the light of Danu's stars, we headed at a stately pace out the main gates, a force under the King's orders. Then we switched back to follow the paths that wended up the hills behind Ordnung.

Harlan hadn't argued too much about my decision to ride my war stallion. Not much choice there, as the paths we'd follow didn't allow for wheeled vehicles, even if I would have consented to be stuck in one. He rode close by, keeping an eye on me and pretending not to.

“I'm not going to tip out of the saddle like a raw recruit who's had his skull rung for the first time,” I said to him, keeping my tone mild.

“I never doubted it for a moment,” he replied, unruffled. But he stayed near.

I'd done something like this to Amelia—badgered her to leave Windroven and ride in a carriage woozy with morning sickness. Then she'd sneakily traversed this path before me. Ironic that I followed in her footsteps now. And in Andi's when she'd ridden too far and encountered Rayfe the first time.

Somehow the Three guided our steps to Annfwn.

Or Salena did.

I didn't much care for the notion that our mother had set up all of this. Had somehow foreseen this dark morning when she gave me that jewel on my seventh birthday. Harlan accused me of lying about it—technically true—but my promise to my mother that long-ago day superseded that point. Perhaps he had a point about layers of honor. The path rarely led as straight as a blade. She'd asked for my solemn vow not to tell anyone, and I hadn't.

Why did Illyria want it?

I suspected that Harlan had the right of it. So far as I'd observed, everything came down to power with her. Surely, though, the jewel carried no magic. If it did, Salena would have gifted it to Andi. Possibly to Amelia. Not to her stubbornly practical, non-magical, mossback daughter.

It could be that she'd given it to me for safekeeping. This might have been her plan, after all, that we rode for Odfell's Pass and Annfwn. If nothing else, I could offer the jewel to Andi. If it truly belonged to Annfwn, then it should stay there. And if Danu smiled on me, Amelia and the babies would be there also.

Annoying that I'd be following the mercenary's advice, but consulting with my sisters would be helpful. With them I never wavered on the right decision.

Everything would be clearer in the bright light of day.

Pray Danu to make it so.

N
one of us had slept, so we needed to rest a while before pressing on. It would not do for any of us to encounter the Tala and their tricky ways with anything less than our best. Andi and I had not spoken since that bitter day on Odfell's Pass, when we parted ways, she going to her new loyalties while I carried Hugh's body back to Amelia. We weren't at open war with each other, but neither were we exactly at peace.

Who knew what might be set against us as we approached the border this time?

While the weather remained pleasant enough for everyone to comfortably sleep outdoors, it seemed wise to conserve our food supplies for deeper into the Wild Lands, where I knew from experience we would not have the luxury of shelter. So we continued through to midmorning, to the last guard outpost, to take advantage of their reserves instead of hitting ours.

We'd not yet encountered patrols, as we should have, and I'd half feared that Jepp would find the guard station abandoned. Instead she reported that the outpost appeared to be occupied as usual, but seemed unduly silent.

Which made me even more uneasy.

Harlan had never been asked to cover anything outside of Ordnung and the township, so these should be guards out of Ordnung under my authority. Odd that they weren't following established protocol, however.

“This falls to me, then,” I said, and Harlan nodded. Relieved that he didn't balk, because I had enough energy to hold off the headache and look commanding, but not enough to burn his ears back, too, I agreed to let him accompany us.

Jepp and Marskal flanked me a horse length behind, Harlan bringing up the back point of our diamond, as we rode up to the outpost.

“Ho to the guardhouse!” I called out once we approached close enough.

No immediate response. Then a guard stumbled out, sleepy and disheveled though the sun had risen quite high. He raised a negligent hand, then goggled upon seeing me. Belatedly he snapped to attention, then bowed.

“Your Highness! We did not expect—That is, we had no word that—How may we serve you?” He called back something through the darkened doorway, and the sounds of barked orders and mad shuffling drifted out.

“We ride on a scouting mission,” I informed him, “and require a hot meal, a few hours' sleep. Where is your lieutenant?”

More shuffling, and another man, one I recognized, pushed through the doorway. The former captain of the gate guards at Ordnung. I lifted my brows in surprise. “Captain Hammet. Do you customarily lie abed all day?”

“Your Highness.” He gave me the salute of the palace guard. “My deep apologies. We have all been ill and our messages for relief from Ordnung have not been answered.”

“What illness?”

“A food sickness. When we ran out of provisions, we supplemented one of our leaner stews with mushrooms. Apparently the wrong kind.” He grimaced. “Glorianna blessed us in that no one died, but more than one of us prayed not to live a couple of times there.”

“Why did you run out of provisions?”

“Your Highness—we don't know. Our regular rotation, which always brought fresh supplies, has not arrived in more than five seven-days. I worried that something had happened at Ordnung.” His gaze lingered on my battered face. No doubt I sported two black eyes by now. “I've sent three men. None have returned.”

Because of the edict that none should leave Ordnung but the mercenaries, no doubt. Still, provision should have been made for the outposts. It seemed like such a huge miss. What about the other outlying guard stations and patrols?

“Are you certain this ailment is not contagious?”

“I make no guarantees, Your Highness. We have only our best guess that the mushrooms were the culprit.”

Worse luck there.

“We shall not risk it,” I decided. “You are unlikely to receive relief from Ordnung anytime soon. I cannot explain why and I apologize for that. However, we cannot continue with such lax posting. At best it shames the might that is Ordnung, Mohraya, and the Twelve Kingdoms; at worst, it places us all in grave jeopardy. I shall leave additional troops and supplies with you. Mobilize the healthiest of your subordinates to clean this place up and make arrangements to quarantine those still too ill to work.”

He flushed, even at such a gentle setdown. The man I'd known at Ordnung would never have let the situation go so long, or allowed himself and his guard to grow so shabby. Illness alone could maybe produce what I'd seen, but this had gone on much longer.

“Captain Harlan, to me.” I reined up after we'd gone some distance, pointing Jepp and Marskal to rejoin the rest of the group. “Can you explain?”

“You read the contract—outposts were not included in my responsibilities. Only Ordnung proper and the township.”

As I had recalled, but wanted him to confirm. He returned my stare calmly, not evincing any guilt. “What provisions were made to continue manning the outposts?”

“To be frank, I don't know. I was given to understand that anything not under my command would be otherwise handled.”

“How did you determine who staffed the castle walls? Who did you work with?”

“You needn't treat this like an inquisition.” He finally bristled a little. “The High King told me to disperse my men as I saw fit, according to the contract. I don't concern myself with what's explicitly not my responsibility. That would be overstepping.”

“But your men would stop anyone from leaving Ordnung under the current restrictions.”

“Without proper authorization, yes.”

“Who can authorize?”

“The High King, of course. The King's adviser, Derodotur, would convey messages.”

I barely restrained my frown, covering it with a crisp nod. At least that partially explained why Hammet had been exiled up here. “Did you have occasion to know Lord Percy?”

Harlan did not attempt to disguise a frown of puzzlement. “No?”

“All right, then.” I urged my horse back to our company. Why hadn't it occurred to me until now to inquire after Percy? He should have been coordinating the guard and the outposts. But I
had
thought of it, when the gate guard challenged us—and then bizarrely forgot. Even without that, it would have been my habit to check in with him early on, if only to get status and another perspective on the mercenaries. Instead I hadn't thought of him again. Or Hammet. Not until I saw him.

“I need volunteers,” I said to my Hawks, glancing at Harlan, who nodded assent. “Hawks and Vervaldr both, to supplement the guard post and get patrols back up. Some men and women with decent command abilities and better-than-average hunting-and-gathering skills. And a strong constitution.” I grimaced. The smell emanating from the barracks had been enough to turn my stomach without the fresh skull rattle.

We sorted out the stay-behind crew quickly enough. It hurt to leave them with a good portion of our supplies—quite the opposite of what I'd planned—but we'd be able to forage. Harlan's man, the one he'd wrestled for my benefit, offered to stay, and Jepp jumped on that wagon fast enough, giving me pleading puppy-dog eyes when I scowled at her.

I had other scouts. She was just my best. Which meant she would serve the Twelve well setting up the patrols to protect them from this section of the Wild Lands, but it annoyed me to lose her. I wanted the best for finding Amelia. If she'd crossed into Annfwn, however, Jepp would be cooling her heels at the pass, so she'd be better staying at the outpost.

On the other hand, Dafne stubbornly refused to stay, as I would have preferred, but I would not command her to do so.

Harlan, though he showed little of his irritation, wasn't best pleased to lose his man, either. We lost an hour to the organizing—including the few minutes I stole to debrief Hammet. Sure enough, Percy had taken him off command of the gate guard when the mercs arrived and sent him up here. Then fell silent nearly two months ago. Fresh rotations had continued to arrive for a couple of seven-days, then dropped off.

Most unsettling.

And now I couldn't return to Ordnung to determine what had happened. Too many fights on too many fronts. Danu taught that a warrior must remain single weighted. Me, with one foot in Ordnung, another with my sisters—with each of them, truly, except I did not have three feet—defending my back from Illyria, the Tala, Old Erich, facing my father and the multiple problems plaguing the Twelve—I was so multiply weighted that I'd be doomed were it a physical fight. As if sealed in a fortress besieged on all sides, I could do nothing to help those trapped outside.

And yet, how could I alter any of this? Already I was in retreat, slinking away like a chastened hound dog, if not in outright rebellion. There—another example of my lack of single focus. How could I be in a castle under siege, a beaten dog, and a defiant rebel all at once?

“You're worried,” Harlan commented quietly to me after we'd ridden for a time, still unrested and fed only from our much-reduced provisions.

I gave him a sidelong glance. “Being worried would imply that I lack confidence in our forces. I am . . . thinking.”

He made a snorting sound. “Not much of a distinction. How's the head?”

“Fine.”

“You've lost color. You need to rest.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

Harlan raised his brows at me. “Shall I cuddle you on my lap and sing you a baby-sparrow song?”

My turn to snort. “What in the Twelve is a ‘baby-sparrow song'?”

“Eh, not in the Twelve. I don't know your word for it. A soothing tune, usually with a lot of silliness, that you sing to infants to make them sleep.”

“A lullaby, we call it.”

He nodded, once, filing that away. Truly his command of our Common Tongue was excellent. He showed flexibility in substituting phrases for words he couldn't translate. An admirable skill. “Sing me one of your lullabies.”

I had to laugh. “Danu, no. You do not want to hear me sing. Unless we're attacked by wolves—then it might serve to drive them off.”

“Perhaps sometime I'll convince you to sing for me when we're alone, then.”

“Not happening. And before you ask, I mean both that we'll never be alone and that I'll never sing.”

“I haven't given up on persuading you.”

“Save your energy. We'll need all of it before this is done. Everyone would do well to remember that,” I added, thinking sourly of Jepp's bright-eyed interest in her man-mountain.

“It's good for people to take joy in each other. Brandur is most taken with your Jepp. He commented that she's unusually flexible and . . . inventive.”

Only years of controlling my emotions kept me from reacting to that. I was less successful at preventing the image from blooming in my mind, a naked and limber Jepp scaling her personal mountain. It chilled my gut even as some part of me warmed to it. One more example of how I had lost my single weightedness. Conflicting emotions caused hesitation or, worse, paralysis.

It made no difference which front, which battle—all of life is a war, and I could not afford to be less than my best in any arena.

I needed to find a way back to the place I'd comfortably occupied before all this. I'd long ago reconciled myself to a life without sex and, most likely, any kind of intimate relationship. It had been an easy choice, compared to the alternatives. The mercenary captain brought a foreign element to my world in many ways, so I hadn't had adequate guard in place for his unusual moves.

I would learn how to counter him.

“He thinks your dagger forms and the physical training they bring lend themselves to it,” Harlan continued. “Also, it's new for him to have a lover who is also a warrior, so that adds an unusual level for him. Apparently she can do this thing where she arches her spine, bends back, and—”

“Captain, I do
not
want to hear this.”

“Embarrassed or titillated?”

“Neither.”
Both.
My head throbbed in time with my pulse, but I couldn't use that excuse. “I simply am not interested in this conversation.”

“Why does it bother you, to think of them together like that?” Harlan asked after a brief silence.

Our company had strung out at this point, the midday sun making already tired people move more slowly. Some napped in their saddles, trusting in our scouts and lookouts to alert them if trouble arose. I knew my Hawks would come instantly alert and trusted that Harlan's men were similarly well trained. Nothing moved in the open landscape other than us, giving me no excuse to tighten up our formation.

Danu frowned on wishing for action, but it would end this discussion. I would have to find another way. Harlan only intensified his attempts to get through my guard when faced with a direct defense. A more subtle deflection might work better.

“It doesn't bother me. I'm happy for her to enjoy him. Otherwise I would have forbidden it.”

“But you don't understand her wanting to.”

“Oh, I understand. Jepp approaches everything in life with lustful enthusiasm—fighting and fucking both. It makes her who she is.”

“What makes you who you are?”

“What you see is what you get.”

“Oh, now—that's just not true. What I see is what you want everyone to see. I'm asking to know more.”

“I'm saying no—and asking
you
to respect that.”

“I respect that you think you want that, but I've come to the conclusion that you could use a friend. I want to be your friend, Ursula. Let me in a little. Tell me a story.”