by Andre Norton
Murdock said nothing, and she faced him once more. "I know that's not
possible. I wouldn't do it if the opportunity were offered to me, with the
most extensive possibility and probability scenarios of the results giving
me the all-clear. It's bad enough playing God and altering the history of
other worlds, but I couldn't take any such chance with our own. I wouldn't
dare."
She shrugged. "The people of this island are facing the same kind of
trouble mine did, a vicious, powerful tyrant trying to take their lands and
slaughter their leaders and everyone else with any superior gifts. It's a
privilege to be able to serve them, to do for them what I'm powerless to do
for my own."
Her head raised. "Have I succeeded in damning myself?"
"No. I trust you."
Eveleen's expression softened. "You're no neutral in this yourself. No
one's blind to your love for Sapphirehold."
Murdock nodded. "I'd give my life and my soul to bring this domain
through, and after my experiences with the Foanna, I know enough to
mean precisely what I say."
"It's appreciated, Ross," she told him. "Gordon once said to Luroc that
his people would go through a wall of fire for him because he moved to
protect them when he learned of their danger. So they would, but they'd
go through a league of it for you, on their knees if need be, and that
includes I Loran himself."
He smiled but shook his head. "They come close enough to it as it is.
There's always danger when we ride…"
Suddenly, his eyes brightened. "I could remain here, Eveleen," he said
quickly, before his courage failed. He wanted to share the shadow-hope
Gordon had awakened in him, that and a newer one, but if he did not
speak now, uncertainty and embarrassment would silence him again. "I
could make it. My share of that gold we took plus what we contracted for
in exchange for our services here would let me start up a small company.
Firehand's reputation should draw men to me, and I wouldn't be surprised
if a few of my Sapphireholders, especially among the women, won't be
all-fired keen to go back to their old lives, not after discovering what they
can accomplish. They'd ride with me as well. I might conceivably wind up
a full Commandant before I'm through."
"It's not impossible, Ross," she said quietly. "In fact, I'd say it was
probable."
Murdock drew a deep breath. He had gone so far. Now, he must face
the rest of it. "Would you stay with me?"
The brown eyes met his. Eveleen Riordan was no child. Their
expression was certain and steady, although surprisingly somber for such
a moment. "Yes, I'll stay, or I'll go back with you if that's what you finally
decide to do."
That was it, quiet and matter of fact. He stared at her, not quite
believing that she had consented, until her soft laugh made him feel very
young.
That broke the spell. Ross came to her, folded her in his arms, kissing
her deeply and savoring her response.
At last, Eveleen gently drew back. "Patience, Firehand. We're going to
do this properly, with everything in its right order."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" he grumbled, good-naturedly since
anyone knowing the weapons expert as well as he did could have expected
nothing else.
She smiled. "I've always been a great respecter of tradition, not to
mention a lover of ceremony. I really wouldn't like to be done out of this
particular one."
He kissed her again, tenderly this time rather than passionately. "We'll
see if we can't arrange something to your liking as soon as we get back to
the camp," he promised softly, with great happiness.
18
THE PAIR'S ANNOUNCEMENT of their intention to wed was greeted
with great glee by their comrades but with little surprise. The following
evening, they made their vows before the priestess of Life's Queen who
served Sapphirehold in accordance with the custom of the island and the
continent beyond it.
Dominion's Goddess seemed to smile upon their union, for they were
granted the opportunity to enjoy and accustom themselves to it as day
followed day without trouble or activity from their foes.
The time flew by almost too quickly for Ross. The day when he and
Luroc must depart for the Confederate council was fast approaching, and
he wanted to be very certain of his wife's complete recovery. He had to be.
Hers would be the command and hers the responsibility for the
Sapphirehold complex until they returned. If she was not fully able to bear
it, another would have to be given the task in her place.
He need not have worried. She still bore the fading bruises she had
sustained, but they no longer hindered her movements. The partisans
would be well led, whatever they might have to face.
The Ton's party left at dawn on the appointed day. The journey would
be a long one, four full days, although they would be moving quickly and
utilizing the mountain trails known only to Sapphirehold's defenders.
Murdock sighed in his heart as they drew out of sight of the camp.
Though the time ahead should be peaceful enough, he dreaded it, knowing
what it would cost Luroc.
I Loran was not fit for such a trek. Even if the weather held steady, he
would suffer. If it broke at all, he could come into actual danger.
Ross's mouth hardened. These four days would not be the end of it,
either. The conference, however cordial, could only be a strain in itself,
and then would come the return. He could only hope it would not all
combine to overwhelm the ruler's already meager store of strength.
His concern for the older man had moved him to ask Gordon to
accompany them. If something did happen, Ashe's skill as a healer would
make him worth any ten others to them.
Besides, he wanted his partner there. Ross was always nervous on the
rare occasions when he was forced to attend one of these conferences.
There were too many chances of his making some mistake and giving
them away, and the possibility of error would be even greater at this one
with a high-ranking mercenary present. He wanted Gordon's moral and
practical support.
Twelve rankless warriors completed the unit. The three leaders could
have traveled this route alone since it was not in itself difficult for those
knowing and understanding its ways and the chances of meeting with any
of the invaders were almost infinitesimal even while approaching or
leaving the Confederate camp, but the Ton judged it best to ride escorted,
as custom dictated. With an end to the bitter war at last visible in the
foreseeable future, the nuances of politics must be ever more carefully
observed.
Despite the Terran's concern, their journey south passed without
incident or difficulty.
Luroc endured his pain without complaint, and although he was
white-faced when he was lifted from his springdeer at the end of each day,
he was able to greet the following dawn with his strength and vigor
apparently restored.
Because of the effect the heavy traveling
had on their Ton, the
Sapphirehold party chose to break early and pass the fourth night in the
mountains rather than press on immediately for the Confederate camp,
judging it best to approach their allies when their ruler was fresh.
The sun was well up when they started out. Neither Murdock nor I
Loran had any desire to startle the outlying sentries unduly, although the
arrival of the other Tons and their chief commanders would have told the
army that some major conference was imminent.
The guards were indeed surprised to see the Sapphireholders suddenly
appear from out of their highland stronghold. They were not slow in
offering challenge all the same, but the green and brown colors favored by
the partisans were well known to them, and Ton I Loran had been often
enough in their camp before this that they recognized him now. They gave
him and his party courteous greeting and passed them through without
further delay.
For the first time since their departure, the Sapphireholders felt a
twinge of concern for their safety. Unlikely as such a meeting might be, all
knew how easily an army's outer lines might be breached by a daring
band, and none of them had any wish to confront such a unit out of
Condor Hall at this point, not with an important mission before them and
a man incapable of either battle or rapid movement as the one who must
carry most of it.
No danger presented itself. They passed through the main pickets and
then the actual camp sentries to find themselves in the midst of the huge
southland army.
The sight of it was enough to take the breath of the Sapphirehold
warriors and that of the off-worlders as well.
Neat files of tents stretched out on every side to the limits of vision in
this hilly country and beyond. Soldiers, animals, equipment were
everywhere to be seen. Their numbers and the apparent abundance of
their supplies were all the more astonishing in the face of the fact that this
was but part of the Confederate force: the rear guard, the marshaling
troops and those returning for a brief rest from the front, the
commander's personal guard and, now, those of the assembling Tons.
There was no sense of threat on any of them. This place was guarded by
the mountains and by the Sapphirehold partisans holding them and was
in no danger from the fighting that raged so fiercely nearer the Corridor.
Only almost total disaster to the southern forces battling there would
permit such trouble to come upon those stationed here.
Many eyes turned to the small unit as they rode between the tent rows.
At first, these glances were only mildly curious, but they quickly became
intensely so. It was not usual for the Sapphirehold war captain to attend
council here, but neither was this his first time in the great camp. Some
there knew him, and word spread rapidly that Firehand himself had come
down with his partisans.
The crowd thickened until Gordon frowned to see so many pressing so
closely upon them. A spy or a traitor could too easily be lurking among all
these men, and there was a high price on his partner's head.
Ashe issued a curt order, and the soldiers behind him moved forward to
form a living screen around their leaders.
The Ton of Willowlands had been watching the newcomers from the
entrance of the great meeting tent. He stiffened at the maneuver,
understanding full well what had sparked it. Their quickness to respond to
a potentially dangerous situation and even more so their devotion to their
commanders impressed him powerfully, and he swore mentally that his
failure to foresee this possible threat had forced them to make a display of
it.
Gurnion ordered his troops to fall back out of bow range, then mounted
his own springdeer and hastened to join the Sapphirehold party.
As soon as he drew near enough, he extended his free hand to clasp
Luroc's.
Ross gave him salute and then dropped back a little, allowing the two
leaders to ride together. His own attention was fixed elsewhere. They were
near the meeting tent, and he saw guards stationed around it, men and a
couple of women wearing the black uniforms that proclaimed them
mercenaries.
These, too, were watching him closely, although they did not give their
curiosity such open play as did their allies.
His head raised. He need not feel ashamed of the company in which he
rode or of the rough clothing he shared with them. His effort and theirs
had made it a proud uniform.
He and Gordon were the first to dismount when the party reached the
tent's entrance. They hastened to help I Loran from his buck and to ready
the crutches he must use to propel himself.
Murdock did not even think to wonder what impression this service
might make on the grim-faced sentries. Luroc I Loran was so worthy and
fine a man that showing courtesy to him was not merely a kindness but a
duty and an honor.
He accompanied the domain ruler inside. Their comrades made no
attempt to follow, knowing this was to be a meeting of Tons and
commanding officers only, but he did not doubt that the Sapphireholders
would remain close to the tent until their leaders emerged once more. His
partisans were proving uncommonly protective of what they considered to
be their own.
Ross saw that the others were all present.
That was to be expected. Because of the difficulties travel caused him,
the Ton of Sapphirehold preferred to arrive last at these gatherings,
though always on time, conduct the business at hand as quickly as
possible, and then depart again as soon as he might. He disliked being
away from his people too long, and his pride rebelled strongly against
making any greater display of his infirmity than was absolutely
unavoidable.
Ross's eyes swept the assembled Confederate rulers and the mercenary
Commandant they had hired.
Jeran A Murdoc was there, of course, a tall, black-uniformed man with
a heavily jeweled swordbelt and a plain-hilted, businesslike weapon slung
from it.
His features were long and thin, more like those of the Terran's than
like any to be found in the northern part of the continent or the islands
surrounding it. Despite that fact, Murdock breathed a sigh of relief that he
had not attempted to claim kinship with the famed officer, for Jeran's
complexion, hair, and eyes were all the deep black needed to combat the
powerful light Virgin poured on his homeland.
The pale eyes rested pensively on I Loran. Had the Ton been putting
him to some sort of test?
The ruler of Willowlands, as commander of the Confederate army,
repeated his greeting to Luroc of Sapphirehold, this time voicing it
formally in the name of all his colleagues.
He turned to the Time Agent. "You are welcome to our tents as well,
Captain A Murdoc. As ever, you have our congratulations for your
successes and our thanks for all you have sent us, and my personal
congratulations and grammercy as well."
"Thank you, Ton I Carlroc. Sapphirehold is always ple
ased to advance
her allies' cause." The other Tons, some of whom had known I Loran since
his youth, offered him their personal greetings, then all repaired to the
great round table which had been prepared for their use.
Ross waited until Luroc settled himself and then took the chair to his
right.
The Ton holding the place directly opposite them, a heavy-set,
arrogant-looking man in his late middle years, frowned deeply.
Sapphirehold's master saw his look and stiffened, his eyes flashing dark
fire. "Captain A Murdoc holds those mountains secure which now shield
this camp. If you would have only one of us sit with you, then, Ton, it is I
who must rise and stand behind his seat!"
The other man flushed and looked away.
Gurnion rose swiftly to his feet. "Peace, Ton Luroc, and you, Captain.
Two places were prepared for Sapphireholds' representatives. This council
has need of both your opinions."
Luroc nodded and allowed his body to relax. He did not envy
Willowland's Ton the task of controlling and working with his large
number of independently minded colleagues and was glad he had had the
wisdom to keep apart from the Confederacy itself even while allying
himself with its cause.
There were no further difficulties. I Carlroc gave a report of the war
effort as it now stood and stated his opinion that a change, a slow fear,
seemed to be growing in their enemy's mind and heart, that if they laid
and worked their plans well and fortune were at all with them, they might
see an end to the war during the year to come, or at least, see an end to
the worst of the fighting.
He turned to Ross, who echoed the Confederate leader's hopes, then
stressed his belief that it was essential to keep as much pressure as
possible on the invaders, harrying them right into the winter until the
weather grew so severe as to forbid any war activity.
Ross's eyes caught and held each one of them in turn. "Understand
this," he told them gravely in conclusion, "we'll win, or we should, but we'll
have to fight as we've never fought before once we do succeed in bringing
them to bay. Zanthor will have to release his Condor Hall hosts then, and
they war with a fanatic's fire."
He frowned. "No. You nod, but we of Sapphirehold have met them in
battle; you haven't, not in any number. Everything, all the hard, bitter
combat your soldiers have endured until this moment, is nothing more