Will Shetterly - Witch Blood (5 page)

“What use?”

She shook her head. “We live a harsh life here, my Rifkin. If you can fit in, you’ll do well. But you must fit in.”

“You continue to speak of my satisfying your brother. I did not swear to him.”

“It’s in my best interest if you serve him as you would serve me.”

Two soldiers in bronze breastplates guarded the main gate. An oil lantern at their feet showed that one was a nervous boy. The other, a scarred, broken-nosed woman who wore her grey hair back from her forehead to display a witch’s peak, said, “Greetings, Lady.” She glanced at me and asked Naiji, “Good hunting?”

Naiji nodded. “I think so. Are the others still out?”

“No. Your brother returned last, perhaps an hour ago. He’ll be worried about you.”

“He always is. No matter. Watch well, Captain.”

“As ever, Lady.”

The walls of Castle Gromandiel were in poor repair. I noted a few wide cracks, and not far from the guards’ post, weeds so thick someone might climb them, if determined and lucky. But the portcullis rose silently when the second guard let us in. The courtyard was overgrown with grass and a few bushes that threatened to become trees. I asked, “How many soldiers do you keep here?”

Naiji smiled. “If you’re a spy, my brother will have to admit you’re not a subtle one. We have nine soldiers, and another twelve adults who’ll fight if they must. And we have our animal protectors, of course.”

I stared at her. “That’s all?”

“That’s enough. It has to be.”

Were Naiji and her people no more than a band of robber-witches who lived in this abandoned ruin? Obviously these people had enemies, now my enemies, whom they feared and guarded against. Who were these foes, now my foes, and what were their forces? I ignored these questions and said, “This place must be ancient.”

“It was an outpost of the old Empire. My family held it then, as we hold it now.”

“I see.” I should, perhaps, have considered that. I knew the legends of the Witches’ Empire as well as I knew the names of every woman of my motherline. But the witches’ power had died thirteen hundred years ago, when iron and steel became common and witches, always hated and feared, were forced in most lands to live apart from humanfolk. The possibility of Naiji’s nobility deriving from that time had not occurred to me. I had believed that all symbols of the witches’ domination were destroyed. Now I, in Castle Gromandiel, was surrounded by them.

“Do other people know you live here?” I asked.

“Some. The Queen recognizes our right to these woods, perhaps because no one has contested that right, until now.”

“Queen?”

“You’ve been poorly informed, I see.”

“There’s very little communication over the hills,” I said. “I thought a king still ruled the Kond, in name at least.”

“Queen Janiavy has held the throne for eight months now.”

“I see. And who wants to take these woods from you?”

“Duke Komaki. His hold lies at the far end of the valley.”

“What claim does he have?”

Naiji smiled. “You play the lawyer again? Very well. The county of Gromandiel has always lain in the duchy of Komaki, but Komaki has had no power here since the Empire fell. Now he tries to convince Queen Janiavy to build a new empire, and that reasserting control over Gromandiel is the logical beginning.”

We had entered the main keep by a small side door and then taken a long hall lit by a few smoky torches. Even in what little light the torches cast, I could see dust, cobwebs, fading paint, stained walls, broken wainscoting, and similar signs of neglect. Most of the rooms that we passed were bare of furniture, and what furniture remained seemed to have been cobbled together by poor carpenters. Only a part of my mind noted the vaulted ceilings and marble pillars of what may once have been a richer place than the Sea Queen’s palace. I mulled over Naiji’s history and said, “I think I understand.”

“No, lawyer. It’s more complex than you suspect. The Duke fears witchfolk. He hopes to begin a new war against us. And if that isn’t cause enough for him to want this castle, he resents my brother as a rival for the position of the Queen’s Consort.”

“Should he?”

“Of course. My brother is ambitious too.”

“I did hear you say nine soldiers?”

“Yes. Ten, if my brother accepts you.”

“And what are the Duke’s forces?”

“Sixty or seventy fighters owe obedience to him. If he succeeds in convincing the Queen of his cause, he may command four hundred or more.”

“And you hope to win, Lady?”

“Hope has nothing to do with need, Rifkin. Do you wish I’d left you to die in the woods?”

“No. I’m an optimist. Perhaps your brother can sway the Queen to his side.”

Naiji smiled. “Talivane will try, of course.”

“That’s your brother?”

“Yes. Count Talivane Gromandiel.”

“You don’t expect him to succeed?”

“Not in the way you mean. Komaki’s too powerful. Janiavy will never consider attacking him. But Talivane may convince her to withhold her aid, and maybe even her sanction.”

“I thought northern nobles cared little for royal permission.”

“True, but sometimes the Queen’s word can sway a decision.”

“In which case, the Duke will attack with only three times as many fighters as we have, rather than thirty?”

‘True.“

I weighed that with what I had heard so far. “In this fortress we might be able to hold them off.”

“I’m glad to hear you speak of yourself as a part of us.”

I shrugged.

“We haven’t the supplies to withstand a long siege,” Naiji said. “And there are too few of us to watch day and night from all parts of the ramparts.”

“All of your people are witches?”

“Yes. But none of them can use witchsight for more than a few hours without rest. The use of magic is as tiring as any physical activity, Rifkin. Perhaps more tiring.”

“Still, it gives us an advantage. I doubt the Duke’s warriors will try to scale the cliffs in full armor.”

“Probably not.”

“Then you can hex them.”

“We can try, Rifkin. Magic isn’t as easy or as sure as you seem to think. And even the presence of a little iron can deflect a spell.”

“Oh. I assume you have no cannon, then?”

“No.”

“Nor muskets either?”

“One. No one’s tried it to learn whether it still fires.”

“I will.” It was easy to consider this while I withheld judgment on the truth of Naiji’s tale. I’d only seen a witch in expensive clothes, a simple giant, a woman and a boy in ancient armor, and an abandoned castle. Whoever Naiji might be, my word bound me to her, but I was prepared, though not happy, to be bound to a mad witch.

We had climbed several stairs and stalked several halls, and finally came to a door that appeared to be made of cast or plated brass. It shone like a mirror, saying that not all in this castle had been left to the uncaring hands of time. Naiji gestured for silence, then opened the door.

In that instant I believed all she had told me. The room was a library, filled with tomes bound in stamped leather, cloth scrolls tied with ribbons of varying colors, maps heaped atop each other with their calligraphed borders visible, and, lining the walls and leaning against shelves, paintings of rich folk and strange lands. The floor was covered with rugs of intricate weave imported from the south, each worth a fortune there and of incalculable value here. A globe of sorcerous light hung overhead, illuminating everything as clearly as though this were day. There were a thousand items that told me no robber band could have won and kept such treasures. And all were diminished by the man who sat in a plush green chair by the far wall.

He was Naiji’s twin, or perhaps a year older than she. He wore a crimson robe embroidered with gold and black thread and trimmed in ermine. On his fingers, rings of silver and gold with inlaid stones of garnet and sapphire and peridot and topaz vied with each other for attention. His hair was longer than Naiji’s, and he wore pale moustaches and a goatee; yet, if he shaved, he might double for his sister. When he stood, I saw that he was taller than she, but only by a bit. He eyed us both with more curiosity than surprise, then held out his arms for Naiji.

She ran to embrace him, and they kissed quickly. “You’re well?” he asked. His voice was also like hers, seductive and tinged with amusement or mockery.

Naiji laughed. “Of course!” Then, smiling, she glanced at me. “That’s Rifkin. I found him in the woods. Will you let him live?”

4

FESCHIANI JOINED ME
at breakfast. “Morning, Pipa.” She gave me a quick kiss, then sat across the table from me to stare at me. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Right now?” I asked, setting down a cup of tea. “I’m setting down a cup of tea.”

“No, Pipa. Your story.”

“Ah. I’m writing it.”

“Oh.” She carefully separated a biscuit and applied apple butter with generous strokes. “An almost-abandoned castle in the woods. You, wandering, with only a few hints of any reason why. How do you expect—”

“You’ve been reading my pages?”

“Don’t sound so shocked, Pipa. Odd that those pages should be left in the library. On the edge of the desk by the north window. Where I usually sit when I’m in the library.”