by Steven Brust
As we look upon her, then, we find that she has not yet come back into the room, and so we will take it upon ourselves to listen as she holds conversation with herself, as many Tiassa are wont to do.
“It is clear,” she began, “that Pepé is upset, and is hiding something from me. I suppose I should be angry at him for treating me as if I were a child, but I know that to him I will still be a child when I have seen my two thousandth year, and so there is no sense in becoming angry. I only wish there were something I could do to help him. Of course, Mamé will do all that is required, as she always does.
“I wonder,” she continued, staring out at the valley, “what I will do when I no longer have them near at hand for counsel? For it is certain that someday I will go forth into the world on my own. Even now I feel that urge, to go, to explore, to find—or, rather, to create—my own place.
“Perhaps it will be soon. It is true, there is much I have to learn; yet I know that, somehow, I will leave my mark upon this world. Ah, if only I had been born in the days of the Empire; then I should be able to travel the world, to find my place. Well, but it is useless to complain about what cannot be helped.”
She stared out at the night, shivering, and suddenly became aware that she was cold, after which she went back indoors and to her warm bed.
After their daughter had retired, Röaanac and Malypon sat in the kitchen and ate soft rolls with good butter and the crumbly, pungent cheese of the region, along with dried figs, followed by hardtack, which Röaanac always ate because he pretended it would keep his teeth strong. All of this was washed down by fermented apple cider, made from apples out of their own orchard, strengthened by the extreme cold temperatures that could be found in the winter by a short trek up the mountain—the same mountain that the two of them could, at least during the daylight hours, see vanishing into the orange-red Enclouding through the open window of the kitchen. Even now, at night, they knew that the view was out there, and so, in their mind’s eye, they could see it as if it were daylight.
“My lord,” said Malypon.
“Well, my lady?”
“I have an opinion.”
“I recognize you so well in that!”
“It is true, I often have opinions.”
“And, my dear one, they are more often right than they are wrong.”
“It may be that this one is also right.”
“That would not startle me. Perhaps, if you will tell me this opinion, I will agree with it.”
“We will soon see, for I am about to tell you my opinion.”
“This very instant? Well, then I am listening.”
“Here it is: In my opinion, my lord, you are more worried than you were willing to let on in front of Röaana.”
“Ah! Is that what you believe?”
“It is, my beloved.”
“Well, you are not far from the truth, dear heart.”
“Ah!”
“You perceive, I believe there are some who would oppose this Kana, and, moreover, would oppose him with fire and sword.”
“And you worry because you have agreed to be his vassal?”
Röaanac shook his head. “Not so much for that reason. Our agreement is very limited, and includes a certain token tribute and the pledge not to revolt against him, but it does not require me to fight on his behalf.”
“Well then?”
Röaanac sighed. “Even though I am not required to fight with him nor to defend him, well, we are, you perceive, located in the very heart of his domain.”
“But my lord husband, it would seem to me that, in that case, should conflict arise, we are located as far as can be from what Dragons refer to as ‘the front.’”
“What you say is true, my dear wife, and yet—”
“Well? And yet?”
“That is only true if the conflict should take the form of traditional military action.”
“Yes, I see that. And you think it will not?”
“I worry that someone might strike for the heart. It is, after all, what I would do.”
“I concede the possibility, my lord. But what then?”
“What then? Well, I worry about our daughter.”
“Yes, that is true. I should mislike seeing her in the middle of such an affair; I fear being unable to protect her.”
“That is it exactly.”
Malypon nodded and said, “I understand. And yet—”
“Well?”
“What can we do?”
“Oh, as to that, well, I confess that I have no idea. But come, I believe I have done my share by announcing the problem; it is now your turn to find the solution.”
Malypon smiled and said, “How, you pretend I can solve this problem?”
“It would not astonish me if you could.”
“I can think of nothing else than to send her away.”
Röaanac sighed. “Yes, in truth, it is all I can think of. And yet, where we can send her? You perceive, our family are all gathered in this district, and thus she would be no safer with, for example, my sister, the Baroness of Shalebrook, than she would be here.”
Malypon considered for a moment, then said, “You know, do you not, that my brother, Shalicar, is married to a woman named Norissa.”
“Well, and if he is? For, you perceive, Shalicar and Norissa live not forty miles from our doorstep; it is for this reason that we are so often victims of your brother’s experiments in combining fruits to produce wine.”
“Yes, that is true, only—”
“Well?”
“Norissa has a sister.”
“Ah! I had not known this circumstance.”
“I am aware of it, because she often speaks of her; and, indeed, my brother and his wife, from time to time, speak of visiting this sister, although they never do so because of the dangers of the roads in this day.”
“Well then, who is this famous sister?”
“In truth, my lord, I do not remember her name, yet she is Countess of Whitecrest, which is the county that contains the seacoast city of Adrilankha.”
“And you think this Countess might be willing to take our daughter until the danger is past?”
“I will prevail upon my brother to ask, and my brother cannot refuse me—no more, then, can his wife refuse him, nor her sister refuse Norissa.”
Röaanac nodded. “It will be hard for our daughter.”
“And harder for us, my lord. She is so young!”
“Yes, she is. And yet, I tell you that I think it is the best thing to do.”
“Well, I do not dispute that. Except—”
“Yes?”
“The roads are hardly safe.”
Röaanac chuckled. “You forget that I am vassal to Kâna. Shards! It must be good for something! I will claim my right as vassal to arrange an escort for her.”
Malypon nodded. “Yes, that would ease my mind.”
“And so?”
“And so I will write to my brother, and that to-morrow, and, well, we will see.”
“Yes, we will do that. And shall we speak to Röaana concerning this matter?”
“I believe, my lord, that we should waste no time in doing so. It is true that she is young, yet she is no child, and should know what we intend, and why.”
“With this plan I agree,” said Röaanac.
“Very well, then, to-morrow we will speak with her, and, moreover, we will write to your brother.”
“We are in complete agreement.”
“Yes. And we will be more than in agreement if—”
“Yes, if?”
“If we agree that it is time we retired for the evening.”
“Ah, I am so much in agreement with this plan, that I will go ahead of you and kindle the fire that has already been laid in the hearth of our sleeping chamber.”
“That will be best, believe me, because I am so weary that my eyelids are prepared to close upon their own without so much as consulting with me.”
“Then, my lady let us be cert
ain that these famous eyelids are facing upward before they close.”
And so, this agreed upon, the two Tiassa retired for the night, and, after a long and sound sleep, arose the next morning prepared to put their plan into operation.
Chapter the Sixteenth
How Piro Met the Bandits
He Had Almost Been Expecting
It was red dawn and there was a cold wind from the south when Piro, Kytraan, and Lar began the next stage of their journey toward Dzur Mountain. For some time, they traveled in silence; Lar because he was attempting to accustom himself to being laconic, the others because they were deep in their own thoughts, especially of their destination. This particularly occupied the attention of Piro, for reasons that will require no explanation if the reader will but for a moment put himself into our young Tiassa’s position: To be journeying toward Dzur Mountain, toward the Enchantress of whom so much was said and so little known, accompanied as it were by all of the vague fears and oft-told stories concerning her power, temperament, and capabilities, would have been enough to have kept busy the imagination of a thousand Piros.
The path required but little thought: the direction was well known and Lar had, at one time, dwelt in the area and knew many of the landmarks. “And,” said Kytraan, who had made the journey not long before, “soon enough we will see Dzur Mountain in the distance, and then it will be all too easy to continue.” Lar could not repress a shudder as Kytraan said this; a shudder the Dragon and the Tiassa pretended not to see.
In a day or two the the terrain assumed a character of grasslands occasionally dotted with woods, yet there were still roads, or at least paths, that took them, according to Lar, close enough to the direction they wished to go. As night fell they would find one of the wooded areas, and sleep there in a clearing around a fire they would keep burning all night. After several days, the woods became denser and more frequent, until soon they were traveling through what could only be described as deep forest.
Around this time the Tiassa began to notice that Lar was displaying certain peculiar signs, until, at last, Piro felt called upon to remark on it. “Come, good Lar,” he said, “it seems to me that you have been behaving oddly, this last day or two.”
“How, Lord, oddly?” said the Teckla.
“So it seems. Have you noticed it, Kytraan?”
“Do you know,” said Kytraan, considering, “it nearly seems that I do, although I had not remarked on it until just now.”
“Well then,” said Piro, “the case seems to be proven.”
“And yet, my lord,” said Lar, “I confess I am entirely unable to understand in what manner I have been behaving that is unusual.”
“Well then, I will explain.”
“I am listening.”
“This is it, then. In the first place—”
“Well, in the first place?”
“It seems to me that for the last day or two you have been disturbed and agitated.”
“How, I?”
“Indeed, yes.”
“I admit it may be possible.”
“And, in the second place—”
“There is more?”
“Yes. In the second place, you have been frequently looking over your shoulder.”
“Have I been doing this?”
“Yes. So much so that I have noticed.”
“Well. It may be true.”
“Come then, have a you a reason for this behavior?”
“Nearly.”
“Well?”
“In the first place, Your Lordship may have noticed that I have a nervous disposition.”
“I will not deny that. And then?”
“In addition, I have a certain keenness of hearing and sharpness of sight that comes from having lived for so long in the wild.”
“Very well.”
“And not only that, but I have been cursed with a certain vividness of imagination, which inconveniences me from time to time.”
“Lar, you must admit that, as an explanation, these reasons you give are not entirely satisfactory.”
“Then I will explain further.”
“I will be glad if you will do so.”
“Here it is, then: The idea has been growing on me for the last few days that—”
“Yes?”
“Well, that we are being watched.”
“How, watched?”
“And even followed.”
“Impossible!” said Kytraan.
“How impossible?” said Piro.
“Well, then, unfortunate,” amended the Dragon.
“I will permit unfortunate,” said Piro. “But, Lar, are you certain?”
“Not the least in the world, my lord. Had I been certain, I would certainly have said something.”
“Ah, I see. Well, can you imagine who might be watching or following us?”
“I am sorry to say that I can. I have, as I have had the honor to mention, a very active imagination.”
“Well, and who do you imagine it might be?”
“Well, we are now traveling in the very district where I once lived as a bandit.”
“How,” said Kytraan. “You, a bandit?”
“Or, rather, a cook for bandits.”
“So it might be your very band?”
“Another like it, my lord. It is unlikely to be mine, as they all met with an incident.”
“Do you mean an accident?”
“I beg Your Lordship’s pardon, but there was nothing accidental about it.”
Kytraan looked at Lar with open astonishment. Piro, for his part, said, “Well, what then is to be done? It seems we must at least remain alert. And yet, if we are being followed by brigands, why have they not attacked us?”
Lar said, “That, my lord, is exactly what I have been wondering.”
“Perhaps,” said Kytraan, “they have some deep plan.”
“Or perhaps,” said Piro, “it is not bandits, but someone else.”
“Or perhaps I have merely imagined that we are being followed. You perceive, my lords, that I haven’t seen or heard anything, precisely, it is more that I have had a sense of it, and think I hear things, and almost see things. And yet—”
“Well?” said Piro. “And yet?”
“I am very nearly convinced.”
Piro and Kytraan looked at each other, each asking without words if the other gave credence to the Teckla’s impressions. Piro finally shrugged and said, “We should be fools if we did not exercise caution, yet, until we know for certain if we are being followed, and if so by whom, it is difficult to know what precise action is called for.”
“In that case,” said Kytraan, “we ought to attempt to discover the answers.”
“That is well taken,” said Piro. “How ought we to go about it?”
“In the simplest possible way.”
“And that is?”
“We will go forward a little more, and then step off the trail, hide, and see who comes along.”
“I agree with this plan,” said Piro.
“Then let us act on it at once. I see a grove of cedars ahead which, by the formation of their growth, should suit our purpose admirably.”
The decision was no sooner made than acted upon; the trio rode in among the trees and waited, watching the path, speaking, when they spoke, only in whispers.
And, indeed, they did not have to wait long before there appeared exactly what they had feared: a band of seven men and four women, well mounted, well armed, poorly dressed, with no clear indication as to House. Piro, for his part, felt his breath catch in his throat and his hand involuntarily strayed to the hilt of his sword. He looked over at Kytraan, who was at that moment looking at him, and it seemed to Piro that the same thought was going through both of their minds at once, this thought being something in the nature of, We forgot to decide what to do if we discovered our pursuers. They could hardly ignore the fact that they were outnumbered eleven to two, and yet how could they let the brigands pass without a challenge? Piro knew
well the stories of those contests in which his own father along with Kytraan’s father and their friends had happily accepted battle against greater odds than this; could he, therefore, do any less? He hesitated, uncertain, while the eleven riders passed before them, unconcerned, not even looking to the side.
While Piro was considering the matter, Kytraan had been making his own calculations, the results of which were communicated to Piro by the sound of a sword coming free of its scabbard. We must say to the young Tiassa’s credit that, upon hearing this sound, he did not hesitate, but at once drew his own weapon, so it was almost as one that the two horsemen urged their mounts out of concealment, coming out behind the brigands.
The bandits, of course, reacted predictably: they wheeled their horses quickly, drew swords, and held themselves ready, relaxing a little when they saw only two enemies. One who was in the rear (which, the reader ought to understand, meant he had been leading before they turned around), called out, “Look around, there may be more of them.” As he spoke, he rode forward, so that soon it was he who was confronting Piro and Kytraan; a few others, following his orders, studied the surrounding woods. At this point Lar emerged, weaponless, and placed himself behind the Dragon and the Tiassa.
Piro, meanwhile, studied the bandit who stood before him. On horseback, at least, he gave the impression of being rather small, with a narrow face, a noble’s point, and features that suggested the House of the Chreotha, though he wore only brown and grey traveling garb. He held his sword with that relaxed tension that speaks of one who knows its length.
“Well now,” he said. “What is this?”
Piro was saved from the necessity of finding something to say by Kytraan, who managed to have some words ready to hand. They took this form: “We thought perhaps you were looking for us, and so we came to you.”