Two to Conquer (6 page)

Far away, in a detached corner of her mind, he could sense, could see in her eyes, the panic of the conscious mind, now in abeyance, her dread and horror that this thing was happening to her again in spite of what she wanted, that her body was responding to him when her will did not. Bard laughed soundlessly and whispered to her; watched her go, like a sleepwalker, up the stairs to his room, where, he knew, she would be waiting for him, naked and eager, whenever he chose to come.

He’d keep her waiting awhile. That would prove to her what she really wanted, make her wait for him; her tears and cries would remind her that she had really wanted it all along.
That
would teach her to go complaining to Carlina as if he had mishandled her, or taken her unwilling!

And if Carlina did somehow come to hear of it, well, that was her fault too. She was his wife, in law and in fact, and if she did not recognize that as a responsibility, she had no right to complain if he went elsewhere.

Chapter Two

The year was well advanced, and early hay harvest had begun, when Bard di Asturien sought out King Ardrin in his presence-chamber.

“Uncle,” he said, for he had this privilege, the king being his foster father, “will we ride to war before apple harvest?”

King Ardrin raised his eyebrows. He was a tall, imposing man, fair-haired like most of the di Asturiens, and had once been powerful, but he had taken a wound in the arm some years ago and it had left the arm paralyzed. He bore other scars too, the marks of a man who has had to keep his realm by force of arms for most of his life. He said, “Why, I had hoped not, foster son. But you know more than I of what is doing on the borders, since you have been there with the guardsmen these past forty days; what news?”

“No news of the border,” Bard said, “for all is quiet; after Snow Glens there is no question of rebellion in
that
area again. But this gossip I heard as I rode homeward; did you know that Dom Eiric Ridenow, the younger, has married his sister to the Duke of Hammerfell?”

King Ardrin looked thoughtful, but all he said was, “Go on.”

“One of my guardsmen has a brother-in-law who is a mercenary soldier to the Duke,” Bard said. “He slew a man by misadventure, and went into exile for three years, so he took service in Hammerfell, and he has been released from his service oath. My guardsman said that when his brother-in-law took

service at Hammerfell he made it a condition that he should not ride against Asturias; and I find it interesting that he should be released from his oath now, instead of at midwinter, which is customary.”

“Then you think—”

“I think the Duke of Hammerfell is cementing his new kin tie to Ridenow of Serrais”, Bard said, “by gathering his army against Asturias. We might have expected that in the spring.

If he strikes at us before the winter snow, he will hope to find us unprepared. Also, Beltran has a
laranzu
with his men, whose gift is for rapport with sentry bird; he said that although there were no armies on the road, men were gathering in the market town of Tarquil, which lies not all that far from Hammerfell. True, it is hiring fair there; but the
laranzu
said there were too few men with pitchforks and milking pails, and too many on horseback. It would seem that mercenaries are gathering there. And there was a train of pack beasts riding from Dalereuth Tower, and you know as well as I do what is made in Dalereuth. What does the Duke of Hammerfell want with clingfire, if not to ride against us with the Ridenow of Serrais?”

King Ardrin nodded, slowly. He said, “I am sure you are right. Well, Bard, you who have seen this campaign coming against us, what would you do if the command was yours?”

It was not the first time Bard had been asked this question. It had never meant anything, except that his foster father wished to see if he had a strong sense of military tactics; he would have asked Beltran and Geremy the same question, had they been present, and then would have gone to his ordinary advisers.

Nevertheless, Bard gave his best thought to the problem.

“I would ride against them now, before they can gather their mercenaries, before ever they leave Hammerfell,” he said. “I would lay siege to Hammerfell, long before he expects us to know what is happening. He does not expect the war to come to his country, he is merely gathering mercenaries to send to the aid of Dom Eiric, so when the Ridenow come against us this summer, as they are sure to do, we will find his forces unpleasantly swollen. But if we strike at Hammerfell
now
, and lay siege to the duke until he is willing to take oath and send hostages not to move against you, you will confound Dom Eiric and confuse his advisers. Also, if I were in command, I would send a few of the troops south to capture and destroy the clingfire before it can be used against us; perhaps to add to our own stockpiles.

And since it will certainly be guarded by sorcerers, I would send a
laranzu
or two in that party.”

“How soon could we be ready to move against Hammerfell?” King Ardrin asked.

“Within a tenday, sir. Roundup of the horse levies will be finished by then, and the men will be free to answer the war call,” Bard said. “But I would send it out in secret, rather than summoning men with the beacon fires; they may have wizards spying to see the beacons from afar. Then we can strike

Hammerfell within a tenday of the time he knows we have crossed the border—if we can move swiftly, with a few picked men, we can cut off the bridges over the Valeron, and hold anyone who rides against us, sending one detachment inside to lay siege to the castle.”

King Ardrin’s stern face broke into a smile. He said, “I could not have made a better plan myself; in fact, Bard, I doubt I could have made one so good. Now I have another question for you: if I lead the troops north to Hammerfell, can you go south to capture the clingfire? I can give you some
leroni
, and three dozen picked horsemen—you may choose them yourself—but no more; will it be enough?”

Bard did not answer for a moment. He said, “Can you not spare four dozen, sir?”

“No; I shall need those extra dozen horsemen to ride to Hammerfell,” King Ardrin said.

“Then I shall have to make do with three dozen, sir. At least they can move swiftly when the need arises.” His heart was pounding. He had never been given an independent command before.

“Prince Beltran will lead you—officially,” King Ardrin said, “but the men will follow you. You

understand me, Bard? I must give this command to Beltran. But I shall make it clear to him that you are the military adviser.”

Bard nodded. That was simply the reality of the matter; a member of the royal house must be in

nominal command. King Ardrin was a seasoned war leader; but he, Bard, was being given a tricky fast mission with a picked striking force. “I will go and choose my men, sir.”

“A moment.” King Ardrin gestured him back. “A time will come when you, as my son-in-law, will be empowered to command. Your bravery is welcome to me, Bard; but I forbid you to run into too much danger. I need your skill at strategy more than I need your strong arm or your courage. Don’t get yourself killed, Bard. I have my eye on you; I am too old to be my own general for more than a few more years. You know what I am trying to say.”

Bard bowed deeply and said, “I am at your command, my king and my lord.”

“And a day will come when I will be at yours, kinsman. Go now and choose your men.”

“May I bid farewell to the Lady Carlina, my lord?”

Ardrin smiled. “You may, certainly.”

Bard thought, exultantly, about his good fortune. Now it seemed that his career was assured, and it might be that if he brought this mission successfully to an end, King Ardrin would grant him a further favor, that he might have Carlina at Midwinter festival. Or he might prevail upon her, at least, to consummate their marriage on that night of traditional license! Surely, when he was the king’s

commander and champion, she would not continue to refuse him!

He admitted it to himself; he was tired of casual wenching. It was Carlina he wanted. At first he had cared for her only as a sign that the king regarded him highly, as a gateway to position and power in the realm, a power which a
nedestro
could not otherwise have within the realm of Asturias. But when she had spoken to him so gently at midsummer, he knew that she was the only woman he really wanted.

He was tired of casual wenching. He was tired of Lisarda, tired even of the game he played with her, making her unwilling body respond even while she wept and insisted she hated him. Wretched little spoilsport, when he had done his best to pleasure her! But now he no longer cared. He wanted no one but Carlina.

He found her in the sewing rooms, supervising the women who were making linen cushions, and

beckoned her away from them. Again it struck him with wonder, why should he want this plain girl when there were so many pretty ones around her? Was it only that she was the king’s daughter, that she had been his playmate when they were children? Her hair had been hastily braided and shoved back out of the way, but even so, lint was clinging to it, and her blue tartan dress was one he had seen her wear, it seemed, every day since she was ten years old; or did she simply have another one made for her when she had outgrown or outworn the old one?

He said, “There are feathers in your hair, Carlina.”

She dabbed at it, preoccupied, laughed. “No doubt; some of the women are stuffing comforters for the winter to come, and making cushions and pillows; I rule over the feathers, while my mother’s women are salting and pickling the bird’s flesh for the winter.” She looked at the bits of feather fluff clinging to her fingers. “Do you remember, foster brother, the year that you and I and Beltran got into the feather vats and feathers flew all over the sewing rooms? I felt so guilty, for you and Beltran were beaten, and I was only sent to my room without dinner!”

Bard laughed. “Then we had the best of it, for I would rather be beaten any day than go fasting, and I have no doubt Beltran feels much the same! And for all these years I have felt you had the worst of it!”

“But the prank was mine; you and Beltran, and Geremy too, were always being beaten for mischief that I thought up,” she said. “We had merry times, did we not, foster brother?”

“We did indeed,” Bard said, and took her hands in his. “But I would not call you foster sister now, Carlina
mea
. And I came to bear you great news!”

She smiled up at him. “What is it, my promised husband?” she asked, using the words shyly.

“The king your father has given me command of troops,” he burst out exultantly. “I am to go with three dozen picked men and capture a caravan of clingfire… Beltran is nominally in command, but you

know, and I too, that the command is truly mine… and I am to pick my own men, and to have
leroni
with us…”

“Oh, Bard, how wonderful,” she said, warming against her will as he poured out his good news. “I am so glad for you! Surely this means, as you have hoped, I know, that from banner bearer you will rise to one of his captains, and perhaps one day to lead all his armies!”

Bard said, trying not to show too much pride, “Surely that day will be many years from now. But it does show that your father continues to think well of me; and I have thought, Carlina
mea
, that if this mission comes off well, then perhaps he will put forward our wedding by half a year and we can be married at midsummer—”

Carlina tried to control her involuntary flinching. She and Bard must be married; it was her father’s will, which was law in the land of Asturias. She genuinely wished Bard well; there was no reason they should be unfriends. There was not, after all, so much difference between midwinter and midsummer.

Yet, however she tried to tell herself this, she was still, helplessly, reluctant.

But Bard’s delight in the thought was so great that she could not bear to quench it. She temporized.

“That must be as my father and my lord wills it, Bard.”

Bard saw only a proper maidenly shyness in the words. He tightened his fingers on her hands and said,

“Will you kiss me in farewell, my promised wife?”

How could she deny him so much? She let him draw her close, felt his lips, hard and insistent, over hers, stifling her breath. He had never kissed her before except for the brotherly and respectful kiss they had exchanged, before witnesses, at their handfasting. This was different, and somehow frightening, as she felt him trying to open her lips with his mouth; she did not struggle, submitting, scared and passive, to the touch, and somehow this was more exciting to Bard than the most violent passion could have been.

As they moved apart he said in a low voice, half afraid of his own emotion, “I love you, Carlina.”

At the shaking of his voice she was moved, again, with reluctant tenderness. She touched his cheek with her fingertips and said gently, “I know, my promised husband.”

When he had left her again, she stood staring after the closed door, her emotions in turmoil. Her whole heart yearned after the silence and peace of the Isle of Silence; yet it seemed that it was never to be, that she must go, will she nill she, to be the wife of her cousin, her foster brother, her promised husband, Bard di Asturien. Perhaps, she told herself, perhaps it will not be so bad, when we were little children we loved one another well.

“Ah, Carlina,” called one of the women, “what am I to do with this bolt of material; the threads are all drawn at the edge and there is a big piece spoilt here—”

Carlina came and bent over the material. She said, “You will have to straighten it as best you can; and if it is not wide enough after for a sheet, then you must save this end for cushion covers, which can be worked over in wool, with colored designs embroidered here to hide the crooked weave…”

“Why, lady,” mocked one of the girls, “how can you give thought to such things, when you have had a visit here from your lover…”

She had used the inflection that changed the word subtly from
promised husband
to
paramour
, and Carlina flushed, feeling the heat flooding into her cheeks. But all she said, schooling her voice to calm and uninvolvement, “Why, Catriona, I thought you had been sent here to learn weaving and embroidery and all manner of womanly arts among the queen’s women, but I see you need schooling in
casta
too, to say
promised husband
with the proper courtesy; if you say it like that among the queen’s other women, they will mock at you for being countrified.”