by Andre Norton
Not unless someone took an active hand in their affairs.
She smiled deep and hard within herself. One worry, one black concern, had been eating at her the more she considered her people's position if they came to High Hallack. It would have to be raised, and she would do so now, but with a solution to present instead of merely as a question and a demand for a concrete resolution, although by speaking she would be putting herself into peril.
“There is one grave fear on me,” the Falconer woman said, “and in order to lay it to rest, I must ask the Lady Una and the Mountain Hawk to do a most difficult thing.” She looked from one to the other of them. “This is all the harder because you have done so much already …”
“Speak plainly!” Tarlach commanded sharply. What dart would the woman throw into their plans now, when he had believed them just about settled?
“I have heard the Holdruler state on several occasions that she could never have made such an offer to any other race, whatever their need, that only Falconers could be depended upon not to eventually become a plague on her own Dalesfolk or their descendents.
“It seems to me that we Falconers must think on that ourselves. Ravenfield is ours freely, but our warriors’ use of Seakeep's lands is dependent upon this alliance, and that Dale's future is not so certain.”
She paused, marshaling her thoughts. “It is not common in High Hallack for a Dale to be ruled long-term by a woman. This one may not be wealthy in comparison to others, but it would still be a prize to a landless man from outside or to local lords with more sons than estates to bestow upon them. Besides this, the lady herself is uncommonly fair to look upon, which would sweeten any bedding. She will be under ever-increasing pressure to wed again, and perhaps her own heart may even eventually incline her to some suitor.
“What if she does so choose, either by desire or for reason of state? Suppose Seakeepdale's new lord does not honor our agreement, it having been instituted by a mere female? What if their heir does not, or his heirs?
“I cannot bring my sisters here only to find ourselves or our daughters or granddaughters—or our sons, since we shall no longer lose complete contact with them—trapped in a space too small for our needs, perhaps at perpetual war for land, which I understand we have never yet been forced to undertake, however much we have aided others in such frays. We should be in a worse position than we are now.”
“You have some solution?” Una asked, stunned. She had not thought of this, and she realized the other woman's fears were very well-founded.
Pyra nodded curtly. “I do, Lady, little though you might like it. You and the Mountain Hawk must marry, by High Hallack's custom and by our own ancient ceremony, the memory of which is still preserved in my village, thus binding the two Dales by the normal, unquestionable laws of inheritance.”
For a breath's space, only dead silence greeted her proposal, then a flush of anger darkened what could be seen of Tarlach's face and flashed from his helmet-shadowed eyes.
The Holdlady colored as well, first in outrage and then again in the shame of a proud and beautiful woman who had grown accustomed to the management of her own affairs.
Pyra smiled in her heart. Whatever happened to her in the next few seconds, these two, by the very naturalness of their response to her interference, had preserved themselves before the Falconer Warlord.
Varnel's hand clasped the hilt of his sword. “Though we both be guests under this roof, I should drive this blade through the dearest part of you,” he snarled.
“Think, man!” she snapped, trying to control the hammering of her heart enough to hold her voice and expression steady. “The villages can live well in a small space. It is your columns and your herds that cannot.”
With great difficulty, the Warlord controlled his fury. The Horned Lord might curse her, but there was no denying the mare's logic. She had found the barb that might pierce their newly born hope to its death—and the means of blunting its point did they choose to avail themselves of it.
He looked at the other two. “She may have farseen what the rest of us did not,” he said slowly, with great bitterness. “Despite that, despite what this alliance means to my race, I will not put such a sword to this warrior's throat. Or to this lady's,” he added, compelling himself to accord Una the same consideration.
Tarlach had recovered from his initial shock and now realized what Pyra had done. He was still furious at having been thus manipulated, but his eyes, when they met the Holdlady's, were both laughing and exultant.
“Seakeepdale's Holdruler has proven herself a valiant and worthy ally,” he said slowly, for he knew he must choose his words carefully. “If this be necessary to secure our aim, and if it is not totally repugnant to her, then I will yield to it.” Real bitterness poisoned his voice for a moment. “I will be no more deeply cursed by those who condemn me whether I wed with her or nay.”
His manner softened again. If he could gain this, then the future might indeed hold more for him than purpose and pain. …
“Your answer, Lady, or do you require more time?”
“No,” she replied, her head raising. The healer did not know of her vow to take no other lord but Tarlach of the Falconers, for that lay between themselves alone, but the argument she had raised was a strong one, and she seized upon it. “As Pyra says, heavy pressure may be put on me to join with a man I honor and trust less for far weaker cause than this. You have my consent, Bird Warrior.”
Una of Seakeep sighed in her heart. She detested resorting to subterfuge when she longed rather, to declare to all the world her love and desire for this man.
She smiled then, in mind, since she durst not do so before Varnel. That was but a minor shadow on the glory blazing within her. It might be necessary to conceal their true feelings for a time, perhaps a long time, but the impossible had happened against every dictate of reason and, seemingly, of hope. They themselves were not bound to screen their hearts from one another. The way before them would never be an easy one. Both knew that, but they would now be able to walk it together, sharing fully in whatever it offered, be it hardship or joy. That would be blessing and gift enough, for her and, she saw when she again looked into his face, for the man who was her lord.
Afterword
THUS they went forth from Lormt, this handful of those who would stand against as dire a flood of the Dark as any monster this world could raise. While the thought of the Kolders and all the ruin those had wrought in their time, clung, to feed our foreboding.
We thought of what we might do, for, let these invaders get a foothold, a port, a settlement in the Dales, how else might the rest of our world be able to thrust them forth again?
Nolar and I once more visited Elgaret in her guardianship of the great Stone. In its sanctuary we sought that which would enhance what talents we possessed. Elgaret spoke mind to mind with those who remained of the Witches, Nolar channeled and fed that sending with all she could control.
I searched for Kemoc with the farthest mind reach I had ever tried. And I was successful, but it was also true that no army might be mustered in time to reach overseas to the Dales. However, there might be, he thought, other forces which could possibly set astir for us. He spoke of Hilarion, the adept who dwelt by a western sea of which we knew but little, but who, because of his very dwelling place, had knowledge of wind and wave greater than that of ordinary mankind.
Even as it had done for the Turning of the mountains, Power gathered, yet time was against us and also distance. For those of the greatest talent were now very few—and what they could do half a world away was little.
We paid three visits to the Stone and at the last I threw the crystals which I had not had the heart to do earlier. I read therein what seemed to crush all hope.
They fell but did not scatter—so I thought I looked upon a constricted battlefield. A ring of yellow, which I believed marked the Falcon breed and, within it, a vast upsurge of blood red—the enemy.
Yet the yellow did not giv
e way and, while the line thinned, there was no faltering. My hand moved without my willing and I shook the bag until it was almost empty.
The crystals which foretold ill separated themselves into an ugly pile and lay to one side, dull and cold. However, those of green, and blue, of white, all the colors of the powers which meant life to us, and those akin in blood or deed, flickered to the battle.
And the red—went down—buried!
Nolar caught my arm and cried aloud as might one on a field where right had triumphed. I, too, voiced a shout, that which came from a Borderer's throat when he charged.
Our cries echoed about the chamber of the Stone and there settled within me such a feeling of joy as I had never before known. My hand clasped Nolar's and I looked into her great eyes, which were of such deep beauty, which now gladly sought mine.
Thus long before the coming of the Sulcar messenger that Mountain Hawk sent to us with the full story of that valiant stand, we knew that the balance between Light and Dark still held steady for us.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1992 by Andre Norton, Ltd.
ISBN 978-1-4976-5531-7
This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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