Ciara's Song

by Andre Norton

  Talron’s face was black with anger as he told them. “I do not believe it to have been the raid it appeared. One of the outlaws was taken alive. He swore their leader was paid for the attack, and that they were to be certain my father died.”

  “Are you sure of this?” Tarnoor was shocked. “Your father had no enemies I know of. He was a good man and honest.”

  Talron shrugged. “I’m sure the one who talked believed it. The truth of it is another matter.”

  Ciara wondered. She wondered still more when her daughter’s maid found her way back to Aiskeep. She, too, had a story to tell.

  “Lady, I loved your daughter. She was my lady twice over, once as her servant and once as I belong to Aiskeep. I cannot swear to my fears, only that they are there. The marriage was happy enough, though there were no children as yet. Then a cousin of the clan nearby began to visit often. He and my lady’s husband seemed to spend more time together talking close, as if they wished none to overhear their words. Then my lady fell ill. They said it was the ague but there were differences. I spoke so but was told I was an ignorant servant knowing nothing. My lady died, and even before her body was in the ground her husband’s friend was there, whispering in his ear.

  “My lady was buried and I was told I should return to Aiskeep. That there was no need of me. They gave me a little coin, an old pony, and bade me join a merchant train coming south. All this I did, but, Lady, the merchants were kept late in Kars by storms. I did not leave the Keep when they believed.”

  “What did you see?” Tarnoor asked quietly.

  “My lady’s husband going very quietly to the shrine. Before the shrine priestess he made declaration that his Keep was now allied with that other clan. His friend stood witness.” She turned to Ciara. “I can prove nothing. I have no proof. But I believe my lady was slain in some way. I think her husband to be innocent, but he merely took the opportunity offered him by his friend. But my lady disliked the man, nor is that clan a friend to Aiskeep. So long as she lived she would never have let such an alliance be. I heard them argue often enough.”

  Tarnoor dismissed the girl gently. Once the door had shut behind her he turned to look at his family.

  “What do you think of her tale?”

  Trovagh looked distressed. “The girl herself admits there is no proof. She even believes our son-in-law innocent. How can we accuse some cousin of another clan—and of what? That he poisoned our daughter so his clan might ally with one Keep? That’s the clan the duke wed into last time. It would be more than dangerous to accuse if what rumor says is true.”

  It rested there until winter came. Of late many had been mild, but this one was harsh and long once more. When it faded into spring Ciara chose to ride out.

  “I will if I wish, Tro. I’m not so old I can’t sit a horse. Come with me, and we can take some of the guard and ride toward Elmsgarth. Aiskeep owns it; we should be sure it survived the winter.”

  Trovagh chuckled. “Well enough, let us ride.” They took six of the guard and a pack pony. It was a day’s ride to the garth that had once been Ciara’s home. They would stay the night there and ride back in the morning.

  They walked the horses across boggy ground toward the edge of Elmsgarth land. Leading the small group was Trovagh. His hand suddenly flung up in a signal to halt. Ciara followed his look. Beside the willows huddled several starved goats. The bark had been eaten high, to branch forks in the case of some of the trees that had proved climbable.

  “There’s something wrong. Sersgarth has been using this land as pasture for years but not in winter. Why would they leave the beasts here to starve? These are only the ones that have survived.” He pointed to a scattering of humps, black and white against the brown earth. He turned to the men. “Spread out, and look for other beasts and any people. Be wary. Listen in case I call.”

  He sat his mount as Ciara craned about her. “Tro, should we ride on to Sersgarth? If they were in so much trouble that they’d leave valuable stock here to starve, then . . .”

  “Then they are probably dead,” Trovagh cut in. “It has been possible to ride to Elmsgarth for at least a week. If any were alive, then surely they’d have come by now. Still, you are right, we should ride there to see. Wait a little until we hear if our men have found anything.”

  One by one the guards trickled back. They had found no one, but the last of them reported signs.

  “Signs? What sort of signs? Riders?”

  “No, my lord. I think that there were cattle here, too. The fence at the back has been broken down. The beasts will have gone into the hills once they became hungry enough to push through the railings.” He paused to consider. “My lord, I believe there to have been perhaps a dozen cattle, maybe more.”

  Ciara spoke with the sound of steel in her voice. “Sersgarth would never have left so much wealth to die here. Not unless they themselves were already dead. Let us ride quickly. We can be there before dark.”

  Trovagh agreed. “Spread out in line. Harran, go well ahead. Two of you others fall back. String bows and ride with your eyes wide open.”

  The small cavalcade swept down the road, half-melted snow and slush flying from many hooves. They rounded the bend before Sersgarth, then pulled to a hasty halt as Harran rode back.

  “Lord, Lady, Sersgarth stands, but the door is shut. No one appears to answer my calls.”

  They rode on with care. It was as Harran had said. Within the house there were ominous stains here and there. Anything small of value had vanished. More interesting, even the secret hiding places, usually well-guarded family secrets, had been emptied without signs they had been broken open. There were no traces of the beasts here. Even the horse harnesses and wains were gone. But there was no damage. Nothing smashed or burned such as bandits usually did.

  They stayed the night, riding back to Aiskeep distressed and bewildered. In the South all had been quiet for some time. It would have taken a strong band of outlaws to win the garth with so little damage. Why then had they not stayed the winter? The buildings were weather-tight with good hearths and much firewood stacked behind the house. With the increasing pressure against Estcarp’s border, the loot to be had there drew outlaws and bandits north. Had this been a band of such traveling in that direction? But the other questions remained.

  They were not answered that year. Instead, a large family appeared less than a month later to settle in the deserted garth. They claimed the goats found at Ciara’s old home as well. Trovagh and Ciara rode over to speak with them.

  “From where do you and your family come?”

  “From beyond Teral, my lord. A wearying journey.”

  “We do not dispute your use of the land. But by what right do you claim it?”

  The family’s leader was brief. “We purchased it, my lord. One who has been very long gone agreed it should be ours.”

  Trovagh and Ciara blinked at each other. The only ones ever gone from the garth had been Seran and his family.

  “Seran?”

  “It was a woman. I do not wish to be impolite, my lord, but we have much work to do.”

  That was so clearly true Trovagh asked nothing more. They walked the horses back, talking as they went.

  “It must be Seran’s wife; there’s no one else it could have been,” Trovagh commented.

  Ciara looked at him. “That’s true. But there’s something you haven’t considered. We only found Sersgarth abandoned a month ago. Isn’t that a rather short time? Think, Tro. It’s clear whatever happened occurred at the beginning of winter. But there’s been almost no travelers as yet this spring. How did Seran’s wife get word that the garth had been abandoned, that all the rest of the family had disappeared when we ourselves didn’t know?”

  “How, too, did she then find this family to buy from her, and gather their goods and gear to be there so swiftly?” Trovagh added thoughtfully.

  “If they came from beyond Teral as they said,” Ciara added, “the trip with all those children and animals must
have taken more than a week. That shortens their time to have heard and made ready still further. I dislike this whole business.”

  “And I, beloved. But there is naught we can do. Sersgarth has never looked to the Keep. We have no right to demand a sight of these purchase papers the man claims. We can only refuse them the right to use your own home as Sersgarth did.”

  That time came quickly. Harran rode in just weeks later to say that Elmsgarth once more hosted beasts. Trovagh said nothing but rode out with ten men. The new family had moved into Ciara’s old home as well. The house was clean but to this garth they had no shadow of right. He said so. Politely, kindly, but very firmly. If they wished to buy, it would be considered. If they wished to rent, that, too, would be given thought. But until then, the land and buildings belonged to Aiskeep.

  The family head returned to talk at the end of the summer. He would buy. Ciara sold reluctantly. Still the land had always been too far from Aiskeep, nor did any of the family wish to live there. The purchase price would be of use. But both she and Trovagh wondered how a garth family could afford to buy two large garths in outright holding. They did not ask. In some ways, they did not wish to know.

  The marriage of Ciara and Trovagh’s son was blessed that year. A healthy son to balance the loss of friends and neighbors, which still puzzled Aiskeep. After that there was an interval. Kirin was often away in Kars. To the distrust of all at Aiskeep, he seemed to be moving into the circle of those about the duke. He grew further apart, too, from his wife who turned to spoiling her son as compensation. A second son was born three years later. He, too, was soon spoiled despite all that Ciara and Elanor could do.

  It was rumored that Kirin backed the duke in his war. That he encouraged the raids, sometimes riding on these with his men. Ciara did not wish to believe this of her son. Her eyes were opened ten years after the death of her daughter and the disappearance of those at Sersgarth.

  “You will ride in outright war? Surely, my son, you have other duties. What of your wife, your sons? One day Aiskeep will be yours.”

  Kirin sneered at that. “One Keep in the poor South. If I please Pagar, I will rule as a duke in Estcarp. With their allies elsewhere engaged they cannot stand. One strike to their heart and we’ll crush them as one crushes a walnut for the meat. My sons will rule a province, not one Keep.”

  Tarnoor had listened quietly to this; now he spoke. “Estcarp has protections other than its soldiers. Also you have not thought. I am your lord. You are my heir’s heir. Under law you may not ride without my permission. It is not given nor shall it be.” He closed his mouth in a way that all knew his mind was made up.

  Kirin smiled, a slow, vicious smirk. “Say you so, Grandfather? There may be one who says otherwise. As for Estcarp and its witches, they fail. Our scouts tell us the men of Estcarp move back little by little. They may plan to make a stand on their side of the mountains. If so, they are fools. Pagar will roll over them. Their land will be ours. As for your permission, I think you shall give it once you have thought about it.”

  Before Tarnoor could speak again, Kirin strode from the room leaving the four remaining to stare in horror after him.

  9

  P agar was harrying Estcarp forces when Kirin reached him. He returned at speed for several reasons, though he chose not to name them all. One was a third offer from Alizon.

  “No,” he told Kirin. “I drink no cup of Brotherhood with Facellian. He has unchancy allies. Moreover, I do not trust him. Let him keep busy with the Sulcar; it keeps them from joining with Estcarp any further. Also,” he said, looking thoughtful, “Facellian moves against other lands. I think he takes more on his knife-point than he can thrust into his mouth. It may be that if his war does not prosper he will return to us with better offers.”

  Kirin grinned sourly. “You say he harries the Sulcar, Lord. But the spies bring word of a great fleet assembling in Es Bay. Those of Alizon who would make a treaty with us have the same story. The accursed Witches may escape us all yet.”

  “Not so. The army gathers. Very soon we shall strike into the heart of Estcarp. A portion of the army, led by you, my friend, shall ride hard to the northwest and the great bay. If any attempt to retreat to some land across the seas, they shall find you waiting.”

  “Yes, but what of my grandsire? He speaks truly when he says my riding with your army is against the old laws.” Kirin sat, his elbow on the table as he stared gloomily into the wine cup. “I am the heir’s heir. If he says me nay, I may not ride. My sister is dead. My parents will not breed again. There is none else.”

  “You have two sons,” Pagar pointed out.

  “Both children. The law was made to prevent dispute in such matters. My grandsire is old, my father’s health has ever been chancy in winter. If I fall in battle, Aiskeep would be under regency for years.”

  Pagar pursed his lips. “Leave it with me, my friend. I will consult those who are wise in such matters. Let you prepare for the time we move. I swear to you, you shall ride as you wish.”

  He waited until the fool was gone. Oh, yes. Kirin would ride, but Pagar had other plans for the man he named friend. Other plans, too, for the doddering swine of a grandsire. It had taken half a lifetime but the oaths he’d sworn were almost accomplished. But before he made his final moves here, there were a few small matters to tidy away. He called for wine. He would think each move out that he must make. Too much haste was folly. He’d learned that as a common soldier.

  At Aiskeep Ciara was unhappy. Was there something wrong with her that her son turned against them so? Had she not taught him well, loved him greatly? Yet now he cursed them all and would go against even the oldest of Keep laws. Tarnoor comforted her.

  “The lad’s always been a bit hotheaded. He’ll calm down and realize he has responsibilities here. What about poor little Aisha? He’s planning to desert her, too, for the Flames know how long.”

  Ciara snorted crudely. “Poor little Aisha will manage very well without him. She’s ruining her own sons to compensate. They have no curb on them at all. She does nothing either with them or for the Keep. She infuriates me.”

  From his seat near the fire Trovagh chuckled. “You mean you can’t make up your mind, love. One minute you’re complaining she takes no interest in Aiskeep. The next you’re thanking the Gods she does not, lest she ruin it as she ruins her sons.”

  Ciara threw up her hands. “I know, I know. Between her and Kirin I’m saying things I don’t mean.” She turned the talk to other things, but later in her room with Trovagh she was more thoughtful.

  “I didn’t like the way Kirin spoke. There’s something behind that attitude of his. I know he and the duke are close; the boy’s spent most of the last couple of years in Kars. He’s hardly home at all. Geavon’s always said Pagar had his plans all laid out. That he was moving up step by step.”

  “Geavon’s an old man who sees plots in every dark corner.”

  “Geavon’s an old man who’s survived a lot of plots in dark corners,” Ciara retorted. “I don’t always agree with him, but I do here. I don’t know what it is”—she twisted her fingers together—“but I feel as if something is closing in on us. As if we are being watched, and in danger.”

  Trovagh caught her restless fingers into his hands. “Hush, love. It’s all right. Kirin is only a young fool. He’s rushed to Kars to check the law. Once he finds Father spoke true, the boy will be back. Although, be could go.” He looked down at their linked hands. “I know why the law was made. It was to prevent children from being used as pawns in the old days. A child ruling anywhere has always been dangerous for those ruled. Father is old, but he’s strong and healthy. He should live long. Then there is me. I know I take colds, sometimes badly in winter, but I have you to aid me. Kirin has two sons to follow him here.”

  Ciara was listening to him as he continued. “The problem is, sweetheart, that Father is old. I am known to be often winter-sick. And Aisha comes from a powerful clan. By law if Father, I, and Kirin died,
you should be regent here for our grandsons. But can you see Aisha’s clan sitting back to allow it? No, they’d be here on some pretext within weeks. Aisha’s lazy. She’d agree to anything they demanded rather than argue.”

  “And you think I’d sit by and allow Aiskeep to be overrun with her damned clan?”

  “No, my dear, I don’t. For which reason they’d move against you first of all. Pagar is allied to Aisha’s clan, and you know the talk. It’s amazing how many accidents one can have if someone else puts their mind to it.”

  He realized she was no longer paying attention to him. He fell silent, content to sit holding her hands in the quiet firelit room. His love. She’d always been that behind the friendship. It had taken him too long to see. But they’d had almost thirty years together in the big bed next door. He hoped for another thirty or even more. Their family lived long, and Cee was half of the Old Race. They’d be safe at Aiskeep. When other fools spent their coin on fancy clothes, trips to Kars, and looking fine at the court there, Aiskeep had been built.

  Their outer walls were massive. The gates were strong and doubly so with a second curtain wall within and beyond the gates. There were now three escape routes where once there had been two. The garths in the Keep-guarded valley were snug, the buildings kept in repair. The people of Aiskeep lived far better than any Keep farmers, Trovagh knew. As for the armory, it would have armed a Keep of twice as many guards. The lower storerooms were kept filled. None at Aiskeep ever forgot the sieges of the restless years after Yvian’s murder.

  Ciara sat quiet, body motionless, but within the stillness her mind raced. It had been Tro’s comment about accidents. It was true. If one ill-intentioned put mind to it, it was amazing how many accidents could happen. The question was, was there a mind here and if so, whose? First there’d been Trader Tanrae, a friend of Aiskeep. He’d died in a bandit ambush: bandits paid to make sure that whatever else happened, Tanrae died. There’d been no reason for it. Tanrae had been an honest trader. He’d had no enemies any could name.