by Andre Norton
"You haven't," she assured him quietly.
The brown eyes remained on the war captain. Their expression was grave and also tender. "You're quite a man, Ross Murdock."
She tossed her head then so that the long braid confining her hair danced upon her shoulders. "We've come a long way. Let's top that rise there and then rest a while."
So saying, she put Spark into a quick canter that moved them well in front of her companion.
He asked similar speed of Lady Gay, but the buck had a good lead on them and reached his goal before they again came up to him.
The two riders dismounted, letting their reins hang down as a signal to their animals that they were free to browse but were not to stray from this area.
It was a beautiful and rather unusual place. The crest of one of the lower peaks, it was unlike most of its fellows in the range in being quite narrow, no more than seven yards across at its crown.
Murdock mounted the rise to its crest. His heart swelled when he gazed out over the incredible world below him.
All that a wild and unutterably fair nature could create in such an area was there in front of him: mountains, hills, sharp, deep valleys, well nigh all thickly forested save where an odd patch of moorland or cliff or waterway broke the expanse of the trees.
Lakes were a common feature of the region, small in surface area but incredibly deep and blue like liquid sapphires—it was from their abundance and startling color that the domain had taken its name. They were cold enough to give pain to anyone drinking their clear waters too quickly. The streams feeding them ran free and fast, frequently erupting into rapids or dropping suddenly into almost too beautiful falls.
Beyond all this, framing it, were the higher spires of the range, many of them forever bearing brilliant, cruel crowns of ice.
The Time Agent knew this place well. He had come here often since he had discovered it early last spring, had come to think through a difficult maneuver, had come when the need for peace or beauty or grandeur was on him, had come more rarely in happiness and in hope, and always, he had found what his spirit sought.
He had never spoken of its existence and had never heard any other mention it, and although he realized his Sapphireholders must have known of it as well, he had always secretly hoped none of his comrades was touched by this mountain crest as he was.
Now, however, he found he did not grudge the exquisite woman beside him even this, that, on the contrary, he wanted to lay it before her as one would lay a precious jewel at the feet of a goddess.
He turned to her and then smiled. The same exaltation he experienced in this place was on her as well. What he wished to offer, Eveleen Riordan already knew.
More than that. He realized with a start that in suggesting they rest here, she had been giving it to him.
"You come here often?" he asked.
Her nod did not surprise him. "You're no stranger to it yourself, Firehand?"
"No."
An air of quiet gravity settled over her, and she gave a little sigh. "This really will be our last winter up here?"
"Very likely."
He studied her intently. "Don't you want peace?"
The surprise in her expression gave him her answer even before she spoke. "With all my heart! These people need to be able to live and work like they used to do. They're ordinary folk, you know, most of them, however good they are at this business fate's forced on them."
"You're good at it, too."
The woman nodded briskly. "I know the weapons, and Zanthor I Yoroc is an enemy easy to hate. Every blow I strike cuts into his heart's desire. I just wish they could slash into his heart itself."
"Why, Eveleen?" he asked softly, startled by the vehemence with which she had spat that last out. "This isn't our war, not really."
She looked at him, her eyes grave, measuring him, before she made her decision to respond with the truth. "I'm making up," she told him, "doing for these people what I can't do for my own."
Eveleen walked a few steps away from him and fixed her eyes on the panaroma below. "Ever since I learned about the Project, that time travel is not only possible but accomplished fact, I've wanted to go back, undo the centuries of wrong my race has suffered."
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 tim
e, 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 pleased 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!"