by Andre Norton
Moments later, the great gate opened, and the steward came forward. He stood before the stronghold, waiting.
Seakeep's lady looked to the mercenary commander.
“Let us go” to him, Captain.”
“That is not my place,” he replied curtly, mindful of his comrades earlier suspicions.
Una's eyes fell.
“You are right. It would not be well to thus risk both Seakeep's leaders.”
Tarlach and those of his Falconers near enough to them to hear the woman's low-voiced reply stiffened as if struck, but the captain saw from her expression that Una. Had not reproached him. She considered his statement a. rebuke, and she accepted it as just.
“Forgive me that,” he said. “As your military commander, I needs must accompany you even if it were, not my duty to guard you.”
“Will you have an escort?” Brennan asked him.
“No. That might frighten them back behind their walls. We would never budge them then without a long fight. Have the archers stay within range and at ready, though,” he added grimly, “just in case thought and word are not the same with them.”
He raised his hand in a gesture of farewell, and he and the Holdruier mounted their waiting horses.
The Falconer kept pace with her and rode at her right in violation of custom for so solemn an occasion, but he wanted to be able to use his shield to best effect to cover her should those in the keep send a shower of darts at them.
That ride seemed to take an eternity, short though it was in actual distance. Both were acutely conscious of their vulnerability to any attack despite the falcons soaring high above and the bowmen set to fire at the first signal of danger to their leaders.
There was no treachery and no mishap. They met with the steward, and after yet again assuring him that his charges would come to no harm from either her people or her blank shields, Una of Seakeep received Ravenfield's surrender and formally took power over the defeated Dale into her hands.
27
Some tithe was spent in ordering the captured Dale under the stewardship of the man Una named to assume that role, but these were people accustomed to accepting the commands of others, and the transition of rule was accomplished more rapidly and completely than might otherwise have been the case.
Once the Seakeep leaders felt certain all would remain quiet in Ravenfield, they departed for home, leaving a small, temporary garrison behind.
The enthusiasm of their reception was little short of astonishing, and the Falconers were amazed in no small degree to find that the welcome given them fully equalled that accorded the warriors native to the Dale, for such was not usually the case. Those who hired their swords out for gold could expect little more than gold as their reward, however hard or well they fought.
For die Lady Una, there would be small respite from strain in the weeks and months ahead. She sent couriers mounted upon swift steeds to inform each of the neighboring Dales, of what had taken place in Ravenfield and of the events which had brought it all to pass. These same riders also carried her assurances that she had ho designs for waging any war beyond that which Ogin's crimes had forced upon her.
The Holdraler sighed wearily sis she watched the last of her emissaries depart. Assurances were easily given but far less readily accepted, and she realized full well that it would be long months, before any of the domains around her relaxed again. She had already extended her agreement with the Falconers to cover the dangerous period ahead when fear of attack might grow into panic and move some of the other Dales into active hostility against Seakeep if there was no strong force on hand to deter them.
Her jade eyes darkened. They heeded the mercenaries more than ever, arid she hoped to the depths of her soul that she would not mishandle her proposal to Tarlach, for that could only result in his immediate departure and his warriors with him, whatever his promise of service, yet neither she nor her house could lay claim to honor or to humanity if she did not make him this offer.
A great sadness filled her at the thought of him. It could have been so good between them if he were a man of any other race, but she accepted that all the richness which might have been must be allowed to wither and die stillborn.
Had she been a girl, buoyed by the confidence and intolerance of youth, she might have expected him to follow his own wish and join his life with hers damning an old and harrow custom, and she would of a certainty have reacted with anger when the failure of his courage prevented him from acting in accordance with the dictates of his heart.
As a woman, she could do neither. For a Falconer, the brotherhood he shared with his comrades was everything. Apart from the strange friendship they shared with their war birds, they quite literally had nothing else. Even the Eyrie, which had been their pride, was now gone. He loved Seakeepdale, aye, but he would really value actual possession of it only insofar as it might offer a secure and fitting seat for his kind.
Could she expect that a relationship with her would be sufficient in itself, that it could take the place of all he would lose to gain it? Until she was able to answer that and answer it affirmatively, she must hold her peace. She loved Tarlach far too much and respected him too much to do that to him. Her eyes closed. She could not risk that he might in the end come to hate her or she to pity him. No wanting or need of hers was worth that.
One vow she did make. Tarlach of the Falconers was her true lord, and however hopeless was her longing to join her life with his, he would remain her only lord. She would set no other man over Seakeep in his stead, and if she thereby doomed her direct line, so let it be. She would never voluntarily carry another's seed or accept another's caress.
The Falconer captain received with no little surprise the Holdlady's request that he attend her in her own chamber at his earliest conveniente, but he went to her at once.
It was not without some nervousness. Neither of them had mentioned again the declaration they had made on that Ravenfield beach with a terrible and seemingly inevitable death only moments from claiming them. He had not wanted to set out upon his final road without having told her that, and he still felt the thrill of joy which had sprung to life in him despite the doom shadowing them when she had acknowledged a like feeling for him, but what was possible to admit in dying could not find fulfillment in life. He had believed, in truth still believed, they both accepted that.
His eyes fell and raised again. Of course, they accepted it.
They were not without some solace. They had been working more closely together than ever since their return to the tower and would do so for many months to come. They could take pleasure in that association, and if the ending of it would be painful, well, that they would have to face when the moment of separation was drawing upon them. They need not dwell on it now.
Una answered his knock with a quickness which told that she had been waiting for it.
Tarlach looked curiously around her apartment, not knowing, what he had expected and feeling slightly disappointed because it fitted so well his concept of the private quarters of any highly born woman.
The furniture was more delicately fashioned than he had seen elsewhere in the tower, and some of the pieces differed to a greater or lesser extent from their counter parts in his own chamber to meet her different needs.
The various hangings and bed dressings were feminine in character, gracefully blending intricate floral displays with scenes depicting breathtakingly real-looking animals and birds. A frame containing a partly worked piece of needlecraft stood in the strong light by the window.
Only in one corner was there evidence of her responsibilities and heavier interests. Here stood a desk similar to his and behind it a closed cabinet of a type designed to hold maps and books and the records a Holdruler must maintain.
A number of closely inscribed papers lay on its surface. Una must have been working on them before he had come in, but he smiled to see the speed with which Bravery had· claimed right of place once her companion had moved. She was now seated
regally upon them and was calmly but intently watching the two humans, as if she were vitally interested in the outcome of their meeting.
Given her relationship with the woman, that was very possibly the case.
His mouth hardened, and his attention riveted upon Una herself.
The lady was standing at the centermbst window.—The view beyond was all he had imagined it would be and more.—She was gowned in wool, as the season now demanded, a dress the very shade of her eyes. Its sleeves were slashed, revealing a lining of the palest green. As with most of her costumes, this gown clung tightly to the narrow waist and flowed freely from there into a soft, wide skirt. Her hair was bound by a broad ribbon of the same jade color, which was drawn through its dark mass in a complex lacing. When she turned at last to face him, he saw that there was what looked to be a fine emerald on her center finger.
His heart twisted painfully at the sight of her. She was so beautiful, all that could be desired in person or in body.—Had she attired herself like this on purpose, to wring his resolve and force him to repeat the declaration he had made and carry that declaration to fulfillment?
Shame filled him. Una of Seakeep would not use him, any man, thus.
Recognizing and admitting that only sharpened his grief, his awareness of all he must surrender. Whatever her intent, the Holdlady had driven a barbed sword through him by bringing him to this place, where he longed to come by another, richer light.
The man let no sign of his misery escape him. He gave her salute.
“You summoned me, Lady?” he asked, since Una herself seemed uncertain how to begin.
“I asked to see you,” she corrected. “Elfthorn has been given what remains of the Dion Star's cargo?”
He nodded.
“As you commanded and is fitting. He and Gunwold were fosterlings, and his grief is real and sharp.”
Both fell silent again, uncomfortably so.
Una struggled to find the best approach but still could think of no way that was completely without danger. Perhaps she did not, in truth, want to find a way to make the offer that would seal her loss.
It was so much harder to deal with him here, she thought. Throughout the rest of the tower and the Dale, they were Holdruler and comrade, but this place was private and her own and the Falconer captain was her own true lord… .
That did not matter now. It could not be allowed to matter. She loved this man, and it lay with her to prove that love.
Her head raised, and her eyes gripped his.
I have a proposal for you, Falconer, one which can benefit both our peoples, but yours far more than mine.”
“Name it,” he said, cloaking his surprise and also his relief, for he had not been entirely certain of his ability to resist her pleading if she turned that against him; he knew in his heart that he would sooner face a slow death by fire than see her under the lash of pain, of body or of heart. Such testing would not have been likely anyway, given what he knew of her character, and her words just now confirmed that. It was not an impossible union between them which she wanted to discuss. No good to his comrades could come of that.
“I am now possessed of two Dales.”
The mercenary smiled despite himself at the grim note which entered her voice as she spoke.
“Many a lord would find pleasure in that fact.”
“Many a lord has no objection to the shedding of blood!” She steeled herself, then plunged ahead. “Between them, Seakeep and Raverifield contain a vast amount of land, easily the equal and probably the better of what you Falconers controlled before the mountains moved. It is terrain similar to that which you once had save that it also has the advantage of providing ready access to the ocean.
“If I were to cede Ravenfield to you and enter into binding treaty regarding our joint use of Seakeep's wild lands, it would give your people a place in which to establish themselves, to build and grow strong once more.”
“Do you know what you say?” he gasped, scarcely crediting that his ears liad brought him her words aright.
“Falconers face eventual extinction as matters now stand,” she answered evenly. “I have seen enough of you to know that this must not be permitted to happen. The means to prevent it has been given me. I may not control a gate such as my sister mentioned, but land I have, land that can mean both life for you and a real home again in this world.”
Her eyes slitted when he gave her no response, either in word or gesture.
“Can you think I am laying some sort of snare for you? I speak the truth. Ravenfield I do not want. The very thought of retaining possession of it after having gained it in such a manner is repugnant to me, however righteous my reasons for doing so. As for he rest, to stand back unacting and watch a people, any people, flicker into oblivion whose star I have the power to keep in this world's sky would be a stark evil, a work of the Dark itself. By my lights, I am without choice in making this offer!”
“I believe that, Una of Seakeep,"·the captain said very quietly. “But what of your own people and those of Ravenfield? Are you not risking doing them a mighty hurt?”
“Once before I said to you that life itself is a risk, but, no, in this case I do not believe that you or the generations to follow you will foul the oaths you take. I would not make this offer to any other blank shields, Tarlach, or to the lord or leader of any other people. Only Falconers have the proven honor to make the suggestion feasible.
“One stipulation I do make at the outset is that my Dalespeople must be used with complete respect, male and female, warrior and craftsman alike, both my own folk and Ravenfield's. I will not have any of them subjected to abuse or insult because of some of your less desirable ways.”
She hesitated again, then once more pressed on.
“For this reason, because it is proven that we two can work well and reasonably together, I shall give over Ravenfield to you yourself rather than to your people as a whole or to any other of your leaders, and you shall represent and decide for them in the treaty we shall develop and in all matters concerning it. thereafter.”
“Una!”
She stopped speaking to give him a chance to recover himself. If the first part of her proposal had taken him unawares, this last had stunned him outright, perhaps for cause greater than mere amazement.
“It is permitted for individuals of your kind to hold land in their own name?”
“It is not forbidden,” he responded slowly. “The question has never arisen amongst us.—We cannot trace descent,” he added as an afterthought.
“I doubt the arrangement will continue in perpetuity.” Her eyes fell. “It is just that I trust you above any other, Tarlach, and—and I do not want to have to treat so closely for all of my life with a man I know despises me.
She hesitated again.
“Would you have trouble dealing with Falconer officers of higher rank?”
“Some. All men are subject to pride, but we are not unreasonable, whatever you others believe of us. If once I can convince them to accept my role as Holdlord, they should be willing to permit me to, act in that capacity with respect to Ravenfield. Seakeep, too, since few of them would want to associate on such a basis with you.”
He eyed her.
“The benefit to us is obvious. What gain will Seakeep have?”
“Not as much,” she answered frankly. “We will have the permanent protection of the finest mercenaries to range our world at least since the departure of the Old Ones and perhaps before that, as shall be detailed in our treaty”
“Apart from that, your gold and your trade will be most welcome.”
She smiled at his look of surprise.
“You have called our horses the finest you have ever encountered. With your companies, your columns, as a ready and constant market, we could at last build our herd to fit the capacity of the land, as both animals and Seakeepdale merit, arid you would be mounted as no Falconers have been since your race first crossed into this realm.”
“It is no
t the final answer,” he said slowly, as if to himself, “not even if I win enough support to bring at least one of the villages here.”
“No,” she replied, “if you mean that your women will not remain forever quiescent in the old way. You could hardly expect me to aid in maintaining them in such a state, could you?”
He smiled faintly.
“No, Lady, of a certainty, I could not.”
She sighed.
“This will buy you time. You cannot continue long as a, viable, separate people living at the sufferance of others. With land of your own, you can again maintain yourselves as you did in the past, and you would have the chance to face and try to resolve the difficulties besetting you.—That you must do yourselves, Tarlach. No one else can find the answers for you.”
“Much less implement them,” he agreed bleakly. “I very much fear we shall not find some of those, solutions easy swallowing.”
The captain was silent for a long time after that.
“There is merit in what you say,” he told her at last, “merit in every word.”
His voice sounded strange, as if the words were being wrenched from him under the compulsion of the rack, and what she could see of his face was drawn and white.
“There is heavy risk for you in this, is there not?” she questioned gently.
His eyes closed.
“If I place such a proposal before my commanders and they reject it as being a woman's accursed wile, I shall be no more than a rabid dog in their sight.”
“Do you believe this will prove the case?”
He shook his head.
“Not entirely. My company will support me, I think, if I present my case well, as should many of the columns, but there are some who will not, those who have ever been strictest in their isolation from other peoples. They form a good part of our number, and they will never condone this;” His voice seemed on the verge of breaking, and he looked hurriedly at the window. “I have friends amongst them, comrades of my youth …”