“My men?”
She nodded and frosty breath trailed back as she spoke. “The Freemen.”
“They’re not mine.”
Sayce looked at him hard, then white teeth scraped over a full lower lip. “You have no understanding of what happened at the gate, do you?”
Will frowned. “Princess, I may be the Norrington, but I was raised in the slums of Yslin. I’m a thief. King Scrainwood gave me a mask and a pat on the head and expected me to be his puppet. What happened at the gate was that a bunch of men who have decided they want to die have joined us.”
Her blue eyes glittered for a moment, then she looked ahead. “In Muroso, Oriosa, and Alosa, for a man to bare his face before another is . . . Well, you only show your face to your family and closest friends. To show it to a stranger and to speak to you as Wheatly did . . . By removing his mask he was renouncing his former allegiances. He was, in effect, asking you to accept him as a vassal.
“They were, to a man, inspired by your words and your actions. Their masks used to define who they were. Now they want to be identified as your people. When you think they are worthy, they will expect you to mark their masks and let them don them again.”
“Oh.” Will took a deep breath and the cool air burned the back of his throat, making him cough. “Did I do it badly, then?”
She laughed. “No, not at all. That is why I was surprised you didn’t know what you were doing.”
“What about my telling Linchmere and Kenleigh to go home?”
Sayce looked over at him. “You must never call them by those names. Those are the names they had when they wore their masks. It’s the same as it was with Crow. When he had a mask, he was Tarrant Hawkins. He lost his mask, he became Crow. They are now Lindenmere and North.”
“And what did they think when I told them to go home?”
She pursed her lips for a moment. “You told them, in essence, they would have to work hard to prove themselves worthy of your mark on their masks. It wasn’t a bad thing to tell them. North will watch out for Lindenmere, you know.”
“I gathered, yes.”
Will breathed in deeply, but more carefully, then raised his scarf to cover his mouth and nose. So much had changed. He’d gone from being a gutter-skulker to someone Crow and Resolute believed might be the solution to a prophecy. Then portions of the larger world began to see him as the solution to the troubles Chytrine was making. And now people looked at him with hope in their eyes, when a year earlier they’d have looked at him with contempt or fear.
And now I have people who want to fight and die for me. He shifted his shoulders awkwardly. In the time he had come to know Crow, Resolute, and Alexia—and the rest of the company—he had come to trust them. He would fight for them and with them. Their adventures had welded them together.
But the Freemen, they were entirely different. They weren’t there because he was the Norrington. These men had heard his words and had heard of his deeds, and based on that alone had wanted to join with him. He’d have thought that maybe some of them were just out for adventure, but for an Oriosan to remove a mask was not an easy thing. As the princess had said, that was more than a spur of the moment decision.
Will looked over at the flame-haired Murosan. “Highness, I am now responsible for those men?”
She nodded. “Yes, you are. What they do is done in your name. You will pay for them, discipline them, and reward them.”
“Pay for them?” Will looked back. “If I’d stolen the crown jewels, I couldn’t pay for them.”
“Lord Norrington . . .”
“Will, please.”
“Will, you are required to pay those bills presented to you. Wheatly and Lindenmere, North and some others are not without means. You can tell that by their horses and their clothes. You will find that they will take care of themselves.” She held a hand up to forestall a comment. “And, despite what you said before King Scrainwood, you will find the crown of Muroso will amply reward you for your efforts on our behalf.”
Sayce stripped the mitten off her left hand, then worked a small ring from her index finger. She held it out to Will and he took it. It contained a small cameo mounted on a simple gold band.
He made to hand it back to her, but she shook her head. “You want me to have this?”
“I would be honored.”
“Well, it is beautiful, but I doubt I could get enough for it to feed my men for a night.”
Sayce laughed aloud and Will liked the throaty sound. Her eyes flashed brightly and almost as intensely as they had when she first found him. He remembered that, and her taking his hand. Heat flushed his cheeks.
“Will, that ring was from my father’s mother. It represents an estate in western Muroso, near Lake Eori. The income from it, even in a poor year, will keep a dozen times that number of men.”
“I can’t take this!”
“But you must. You gave your lands away so you could come help my nation.” Sayce smiled at him. “Now it is your nation, too. I don’t expect that will make you fight any harder against Chytrine, just make the results of victory that much sweeter.”
Will smiled, suddenly taken with having a new nation as his home. He removed his right glove. He slipped the ring on his index finger. “Thank you.”
“The right hand. Your sword hand. Good.”
“What?”
“It means you’ll fight.” The princess raised her own scarf to hide the lower part of her face. “Come, Lord Norrington, north to your new home. And death to our enemies.”
CHAPTER 36
H ad the journey from Meredo to Caledo been made in the summer, there would have been two choices of route. The longer journey would have taken them back to Valsina and then passed them south of Tolsin and northwest to Caledo. The great road there would have made travel quick, and easy accommodations would have been found along the way. The other route would have been to travel to Narriz, the capital of Saporicia, and then north on the road to Caledo. While that was the shorter route, the roads in Saporicia were not terribly well maintained, and much of the trade between Muroso and Saporicia actually traveled by ship around the Loquellyn headland.
But winter wiped any advantage of the roads, so the group headed straight north, intent on cutting through the Bokagul. The tall mountains dominated the horizon, and snow blanketed them. When winds had blown all the clouds away, snow could be seen drifting in long thin lines from the jagged peaks.
Alexia peered out through the thin veil she wore between the brow of her hat and the thick woolen scarf wrapped round her face. The veil helped dull the harshness of the light reflecting from the snow, and did keep in a bit of heat. Swathed in thick hide clothing and hunched beneath even thicker robes, she looked more a beast than the horse upon which she rode.
She did feel the cold and knew Will had to be miserable. But the thief didn’t complain and that surprised her. The Will Norrington she’d first met in Yslin would have complained, and bitterly. Will had grown past that childishness now.
In camp the previous night, Will had joined some of the Murosans around a fire and sung with them various songs. He even offered new words for old melodies. One song, which he admitted was a poem he’d been thinking on for a while, involved the battle on the plains of Svoin, and featured her and Crow destroying the sullanciri, Malarkex.
His willingness to join in the singing impressed her, but less so than his acceptance of Kenleigh and Linchmere. Their presence among the Freeman Company had surprised her, and at first she thought they had been sent as Scrainwood’s agents. She’d mentioned that idea to Crow, but he’d suggested that Kenleigh hadn’t the temperament, and that Linchmere hadn’t the guile needed to be a spy.
Upon reflection, Alyx agreed with Crow’s assessment. She realized that Linchmere must have suffered a serious falling-out with his father to leave the comforts of the palace. Linchmere had been awkward in the camp, and mostly followed Kenleigh around, doing whatever the other man told him. Linchmere had b
egun to build a fire beneath a tree’s snow-laden branches. The rising heat would have caused the snow to fall and smother the fire, but Qwc flew about clumsily and cleared the tree of snow. Linchmere did get dumped on, but had a smile for the Spritha’s profuse apologies.
Alyx and Crow had retired together to a tent that had been set up a bit away from the others, though still within the camp. Whether people thought their marriage a sham or not, they respected their privacy. While the night was far too cold for removing all their clothing, they did huddle together beneath their blankets and share warmth.
There had been an urgency to their lovemaking in the inn—and an awkwardness. At first elbows hit where they shouldn’t have, teeth clicked, and fingers tangled, but any mishap was greeted with a smile, a laugh, or a whispered apology. Soon enough, though, the actual words were of little use. Far more meaningful and expressive moans and gasps communicated all.
After they lay together, touching and caressing. She relished the tenderness with which Crow slipped his arm around her to pull her back against him, kissing her neck. That was something so welcome she gladly would have retreated into that embrace and never emerged. It was not so much that she wanted to escape the world and seek him as a sanctuary, but that she wanted, very much, to be there with him, sharing the peace of their coupling.
On the road he rode beside her, save when he checked on Will or talked to Resolute, or when she went to check on Peri. Even now, as she glanced over at him, his shoulders hunched beneath a huge bearskin cloak, he gave her a nod, and through his veil she could almost see his eyes twinkle.
During the time they were not alone, Crow had been solicitous, but also respectful. He would offer help, not insist on usurping those things she could very well do herself. And if he needed help, he asked. He always had a smile for her and remained attentive, while not demanding her constant attention.
Part of that distance, she suspected, came from the gap in their ages. That first night he told her about Svarskya and having held her as an infant. A tremor in his voice betrayed his uneasiness at being so much older than she. As he made to apologize, she kissed him. “Our hearts don’t care how many times they’ve beaten, just that they beat together now.”
He had accepted that with a smile. “Wisdom as well as beauty.”
“Wise enough to know that when two souls are meant to be together, trifling details do not matter.”
Alexia smiled as their conversation echoed through her mind, but a keening hum filled the crisp air, demanding attention. Qwc flashed green against the white snow, circling Will, Sayce, Crow, and Alexia, then hovered in the air while pointing two arms off to the northeast. “Quick, quick, come quick. Important, very important.” He began to drift up, then buzzed away, making a beeline for the forested entrance into a little valley.
Crow’s head turned in her direction. “A Spritha knows where it’s supposed to be and when. We had best go.”
Already Resolute had reined his horse around and was galloping after the Spritha. Without a second thought, Alyx nudged her horse with her heels and set off beside Crow to avoid most of the snow his horse was kicking up. Off to the right, past Resolute, the Panqui sprinted through the snow, and behind her she caught the sound of Will and Sayce joining the chase.
Off across a virgin snowfield they raced, then into a thin stand of pines. Barely twenty yards farther, another field extended to a drop. To the north spread a forested valley with a meadow at its heart. A stream split it and wended its way south while, to the northwest, the grey granite walls of Bokagul Mountains formed a border.
Resolute plunged straight down over the edge and disappeared from sight. Lombo leaped into the air, his tail swinging to balance his flight. Alyx saw him sink into the tops of pines, causing one to sway violently enough that snow avalanched down from its branches. Crow’s horse followed Resolute’s, and she drove her mount over the edge just to Crow’s left.
Snow flew, but the nearly treeless hillside gave her a good view of the valley floor. A small knot of people was beset by a horde of gibberers. A few frostclaws circled, letting loose with their warbled hoots, while others clawed bodies and tore at them with their terrible teeth. The people held the gibberers off as best they could and, from their awkward movements and coloration, she assumed they were urZrethi.
The steep hillside began to level out after ten yards. Crow reined back and brought his silverwood bow to hand. He nocked an arrow, drew, and let fly. The shaft sped past Resolute and took a gibberer high in the chest. It spun and went down, and a number of the gibberers looked up the hillside.
Which was right when Lombo pounced. He landed in the midst of them, crushing at least one beneath his feet. His paws flicked out, right and left, crushing bones or rending flesh with his claws. As he spun to face one threat, his tail shattered the legs of a gibberer driving at his back.
Another arrow arced down, this one leaving a temeryx thrashing out its life in a reddening snowdrift. Then a thundercrack split the air, echoing off the mountains. A gibberer jolted, then sagged to the ground, a hunk of his skull sprayed back in a little wedge over the snow, courtesy of Dranae and his draconette.
Then Alyx was among them. Halfway down the hill she had thrown off her heavy cloak, then freed her right hand of its mitten. It dangled from a thong at her wrist as she drew her sword and slashed down to her right. Bright red splashed the snow and her horse’s flank. A gurgling gibberer crashed hard on the ground.
The snow made for difficult going, but horses proved far more agile than the gibberers. More arrows rained down and the draconette’s thunder echoed again. Not every shaft nor every shot proved to be a kill, but the screams of a wounded comrade were as unnerving for the gibberers as they would be for men.
The frostclaws, with their quick steps and powerful legs, had an easier time of it in the snow, but Lombo seemed to take particular delight in slaying them. He was a fox among hens, streaking away from one broken-necked body to pounce on another, bear it to the ground, then wrench its head off.
Alexia parried a thrust from a longknife, then chopped her blade down on the gibberer’s head. Bones cracked, then she kicked out at it, pitching it back. She reined her horse around and saw Resolute turning his horse within a circle of corpses.
Behind Alyx, Sayce was laying about with her saber while, rising in his stirrups, Will hurled the bladestars Resolute had created. Beyond him, a squad of the Red Lancers came riding hard. They drove against the thickest concentration of gibberers harrying the urZrethi, and the urZrethi took that moment to strike as well. Caught between them, the gibberers howled and wailed until they were all slain.
The remaining gibberers scattered as best they could, but the Lancers and Freemen rode them down. There hadn’t been but thirty or forty of them, and a quick glance at their condition suggested to Alyx that these were stragglers and deserters who had banded together, and the small group of urZrethi had been caught at a most inopportune moment.
The princess trotted her horse over to the urZrethi. She counted ten of them, but several were wounded, and at least three urZrethi bodies lay in the snow. A female with flesh the color of red rocks, and long black hair plaited into a thick braid, stepped over to meet Alyx. The urZrethi had shifted her legs into spindly sticks, much as Bok had, and her forearms and hands had been transformed into a piercing blade and a horny mace.
“I bid you the peace of Bokagul.” Her dark eyes shone with coppery flecks. “I am Silide-tse Jynyn, warden for this domain.”
“I am Alexia of Okrannel.” She looked over toward Will, thinking to introduce him, but saw him sitting astride his horse with an open wound on his leg. Sayce had dismounted and stood there spreading the rent clothes. The blood looked dark on Will’s brown leathers and it steamed.
Alexia rode over to him. “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
Sayce snarled. “I let one past. I let one get to the Norrington. It’s my fault.”
Qwc landed on Will’s thigh,
above the cut, then got down on all sixes and spat a wad of webbing into the wound. Will hissed and Sayce tried to swat the Spritha away, but Qwc darted back, then forward again, and deftly manipulated the webbing to cover the wound. The webbing did redden, but it also contracted, drawing the sides of the wound closed.
Wheatly reined up just shy of Will. “My lord, the gibberers are all gone. We’ve got them down to the last. A couple of our people are wounded, but nothing so’s it would bother a man.”
Will nodded. “North and Lindenmere?”
“North is fine, my lord. Lindenmere has a bit of a scratch, but he’ll live.”
“Good. Thank you, Captain Wheatly. You showed initiative; that’s good.” Will beckoned him with a finger. “Please, come here.”
The man rode close enough for his right knee to touch Will’s left. “Yes, my lord?”
The thief scraped his right index finger over his bloody trouser leg, then reached over and drew a dark stripe down the bridge of the mask on Wheatly’s upper arm. “You may wear your mask again. You are now my man. You will serve as best you can, and you will tell me of others whose actions make them worthy of being mine.”
The smile that blossomed on the man’s face proved so infectious Alyx found herself smiling. “Yes, my lord. My duty, honor, and pleasure, Lord Norrington.”
“And, Wheatly?”
“Yes, my lord?”
“If anyone needs healing, please send them to Adept Reese. I want live men, not brave corpses. Each scar is worth a story, true, but the ones he’ll take away will be worth two.”
“Yes, my lord.” Wheatly tossed him a quick salute, then reined his horse about and started shouting orders to the Freemen.
Will looked up at Alexia, then over at the urZrethi. “How bad was it?”
Silide-tse looked back at her group. “I lost four and, depending, another may die.”
Alexia looked up as Lombo wandered over and Crow joined them. “We need Kerrigan. Can you get him?” She’d been speaking to Crow, but the Panqui nodded and set off, loping up the hill.
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