Claudia J Edwards - [Forest King 02]

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Claudia J Edwards - [Forest King 02] Page 7

by Horsewoman in Godsland (UC) (epub)


  They stared at the wickedly sharp lance-points leveled at them as if they had been wielded by supernatural beings, as they may have thought they were. For an instant the tableau held; then at Karel’s muttered command, the outlanders set their heels to their eager horses again and charged. The slavers scattered like chickens before the falcon’s stoop; Karel guided his sensitive gray to cut the guards away from the captive girls. Len, a savage grimace on his face, skewered a burly raider who was dragging a struggling girl of thirteen or fourteen by the hair. The man screamed shrilly as the lance pierced him through, driven by the weight of a charging horse and rider. Unready for the shock of the raider’s weight and the throbbing that vibrated up the lance’s shaft as the man thrashed in agony Len dropped the lance and left it standing in the rapidly expiring body.

  Tobin was hacking at a raider with his saber, while the fellow, parrying the blows frantically with his club, backed away. Ina herded the hysterical girls out of harm’s way, trying to hush their screaming. Orvet chased one fleeing raider out of the village, pricking him with his lance at every stride (exorcists were forbidden to kill) and wheeled back to chase another. Karel’s heavy war crossbow thudded and the most ornately dressed of the raiders flung up his hands and crashed to the earth, dead before he hit the ground.

  Red Hawk came sailing over the low wall that divided the village from its fields and Adelinda drew rein in the midst of the battle. As it happened, she was unarmed, An-Shai having convinced her (for his own protection) that weapons were unnecessary in the peaceful Vale. Far behind, the greathorse stallion Blackie lumbered along, swept by the excitement into following the much fleeter Red Hawk at a ponderous gallop, while the Bishop An-Shai himself clung precariously to his back, cursing weakly, reins trailing. “Slave raiders,” explained Karel, succinctly.

  “Good job. Don’t kill any more of them than you can help; we don’t know what the local customs for dealing with such vermin are,” answered Adelinda.

  “Right.” Karel raised his voice to a parade-ground bellow. “Let them go. They’re licked. Meet in the plaza. Ina, I expect that dead one there has the keys to the girls’ shackles on him.”

  Blackie came wallowing into the square at that moment and Adelinda absentmindedly caught him, gathered up the reins, and handed them up to the bishop. “Don’t let go of the reins, Your Grace. The horse will run away with you.” An-Shai gathered up his tattered dignity. “So I’ve discovered. Why did your people interfere in this battle?”

  “The village was attacked by slave raiders, Your Grace,” Karel answered. “We happened to be armed and at hand. I’d say they’ve been at the villages farther north, from the number of captives they’d taken.”

  “My people didn’t intentionally interfere, Your Grace, but slave raiders are the worst sort of scum. Surely you want to see these poor girls returned to their families.” Adelinda was looking a little askance at the bishop. His attitude was not at all what she might have expected.

  “Of course. But the Quadrate God would have protected the girls and taken vengeance on the slavers.”

  “Would He have brought these two men the slavers killed back to life? Would He have restored the girls to their grieving families?”

  “No,” the bishop admitted. “Sometimes His purposes are a little hard for mortals to understand. Nevertheless, I’m grateful for the assistance your people provided. Doubtless the God meant for them to prevail.” Seeing that the out-landers were gathering around Adelinda, he drew her aside. “Now we will return to Bishopstown a great deal more slowly than we came, and you can show me how to stop this creature. Why does your little horse ran so much faster than this one?”

  As the two rode off, Tobin said, staring after them, “It sure seems like he doesn’t want to let Adelinda talk to us. What’s going on?”

  “I wish I knew,” said Karel. “I don’t like it. He’s up to something.”

  “He’s good-looking enough, in an oily sort of way,” commented Len contemptuously. “Maybe she’s found herself a new bedmate.”

  Karel turned his gaze on the younger man, and his eyes were like ice. “You may think you have a right to your opinions, farmer, but keep them to yourself.” Dusty, Karel’s mount, sensing his rider’s tension, sidled closer to Len’s gray mare. “Or if you can’t, bring them to me and I’ll demonstrate to you just how wrong they are.”

  Karel may have been crippled, but on horseback he was a formidable warrior, well able to overcome Len, who had only a few days’ training in the arts of war. Len knew it. His resentful gaze fell.

  “Gentlemen,” said Orvet softly, including Len under the term that was usually used only for men of the horse folk, “we’re among strangers here. It isn’t well to let them see dissension among us. Karel, I don’t think it’s fair for you to use your superior skill as a fighter to bully the rest of us. Len, we all know that Adelinda wouldn’t involve herself in an affair with an enemy.”

  “Not to mention,” added Ina unexpectedly, “an iceberg. There’s nothing but coldness in that man. He might look handsome, but if you look into his eyes, all you see is pride and ice. i’ve met fish that were more attractive, no matter how good-looking he is.”

  “What difference does that make?” asked Tobin. “Len here never lacks for girls to set their caps at him, and he never gives them the time of day. With his looks, what woman cares what’s inside?”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. Len’s not a bit like the bishop. He’s cold on the outside, but he’d be as warm and loving as any man if he met the right girl. The trouble is, you men judge a woman just by her looks, so you think we judge you the same way. But we don’t. Nine tenths of a man’s attractiveness is in his personality. You’re no beauty, but you’ve never Sacked for girl friends. Any one of you is a hundred times more attractive than the bishop.”

  This set the men to blushing and clearing their throats, all except for Orvet, who grinned. “Now that we men have been thoroughly routed by Ina, let’s get back to work. But keep your eyes and ears open. There’s more going on here than we know about, and the more we can find out, the less in the dark we’ll be.” Silently, he resolved to himself to talk to Adelinda that evening, bo matter what obstacles were put in his way.

  Adelinda, riding slowly back to the palace with An-Shai, instructing him on the art of horsemanship, formed much the same determination. It had not escaped her notice, that she had been neatly maneuvered away from the rest of her party. The bishop had apparently given up all attempts to convert her to the faith of the Quadrate God, though his conversation was still laced with references to his religion. Instead, he was exerting himself unaccustomedly to be genial and friendly. Adelinda found this as unsettling as his former arrogance. Every instinct warned her against this man, and yet she found in him an enemy that she could respect. She could even like him, warily. But she still underestimated both his cunning and his ruthlessness.

  An-Shai, behind his genial facade, was ready to grind his teeth in frustration. He had not expected the outlanders to interfere in his plans, and the abortive slave raid left him in a difficult situation on two counts. The people of Two Falls Village had seen the slave raiders, who they had always been told were too powerful and fearsome to be opposed and whose raids must therefore be suffered with whatever equanimity they could summon, put to flight by a much inferior force of numbers. This made the Church’s protestations of helplessness look foolish.

  The bishop also realized that unwittingly he had imported into his diocese a force of fighters, few in number perhaps, but formidable by the standards of Godsland, especially mounted upon their lightning-quick mountain horses. Worse yet, these fighters were not under his control, and were motivated by other customs than his.

  The key to the problem was Adelinda, he thought. If he could bring her under his control, then he would control the outlanders. Failing that, and he was beginning to realize, with a stirring of respect, that controlling Adelinda might well be a more difficult task than he had e
ver faced, he would have to alienate her people from her, destroy her credibility with them, convert or subvert them to his cause.

  He left Adelinda consulting with builders on the design of stables and paddocks for the breeding stock and summoned Li-Mun to his library. “The outlanders put a neat stop to the slave raid. Schedule another one, with a more impressive force this time.”

  Li-Mun made a note. “Yes, Your Grace.”

  “Li-Mun, you traveled for a time with the woman Adelinda. What are her weaknesses? How can she be brought under control?”

  Li-Mun shrugged helplessly. “She’s bold to the point of imprudence. She’s sometimes hasty in dealing with her underlings. Propriety has no meaning for her, and I mean not only our notions of propriety, but those of her own people, too. She’s not good at getting along with people—they often don’t understand her and she’s too impatient to explain herself.” Li-Mun paused thoughtfully. “I’d guess that she’s lonely. She doesn’t make friends easily, and her family seemed almost glad to get rid of her. As to weaknesses—she doesn’t have many vices, though I hear that she took a number of lovers when she was younger.” He glanced warily at his bishop, wondering if he was offended. An-Shai Was sitting—gingerly—at his desk, listening intently, but there was no sign of emotion on his face.

  “What you say accords with my own observations, but it isn’t much help. What is the woman afraid of? What threat will break her will and send her running to me for help?” “That, I don’t know. I’ve never seen her afraid of anything. I find it hard to image what she would be afraid of that wouldn’t kill her. I can’t picture her turning to anybody for help with anything. I’ll tell you this much, Your Grace. I’d be willing to bet that if you could win her loyalty she’d be the best servant you ever had.”

  An-Shai sighed. Breaking her spirit is going to be hard enough. How could I ever win her loyalty? She would know if I lied to her. She doesn’t trust me now, but at least she doesn’t hate me, and she’s still willing to carry out her part of the bargain.”

  “Perhaps we should just let the outlanders do what they came to do and send them home as we agreed.”

  “No!” The bishop tossed his head as if challenged. “No. If I give up, she’s won, she’s beaten me. I’ll have lost control of the Vale, of the people, of myself. I might as well cut my throat and be done with it, because I’ll be as good as dead.” “No one would ever know,” said Li-Mun soothingly. “I don’t think the woman herself has the slightest idea what’s at stake. After all, Your Grace, we have to keep our eyes on what’s important here. Your goal is to be summoned for initiation. If no one knows you lost the struggle, where’s the harm?”

  “I’d know. And if I know I’m beaten, what’s the good of being an initiate? Don’t suggest such a thing again. Just find me a way to break her.”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” said Li-Mun, wondering how he was going to carry out the order.

  “The first thing we need to do is get at her people. There must be ways to convert or buy off or frighten them. They can’t all be as tough-minded as she is. Find out what each of them wants or needs or is afraid of. Assign someone to each of them. Separate them, alienate them from each other. Especially, find ways to turn them against her, but be very sure that she doesn’t suspect that we’re behind it. She won’t be quite so bold when she’s all alone in a strange land. Maybe when she finds that there’s no one else to turn to, she’ll turn to me.”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” said Li-Mun, grateful to have something specific to do. “One of the peasants seems to resent her; that’ll be a good starting place. Maybe he’d like an opportunity for revenge. And the peasant woman... she’s plain. Perhaps she’d be vulnerable to affection offered by some sympathetic man. I know just the man. The lighthaired peasant isn’t too bright, and he’s lazy, too. The other two are going to be harder.”

  An-Shai gestured impatiently. “The cripple is in a lot of pain. Poppy gum is addictive. He’s the easiest one of the lot to subvert.”

  “Very true, Your Grace. I should have thought of that. What about Orvet? He’s different from the others; I don’t entirely understand him.”

  “Try buying him. If that doesn’t work, threaten him. If that doesn’t work, then I’ll use one of my supernatural servants to scare him into line.”

  “Very good, Your Grace.” Li-Mun hastily scribbled more notes and scurried out.

  An-Shai sat at his desk for a long time, staring at but not seeing his clenched fists. In his daydreams, he pictured dozens of variations on a theme: a broken and repentant Adelinda and his own magnanimity as he graciously received her tearful oaths of undying loyalty and kindly stilled her terrors.

  Chapter 6

  “Are your people unable to go on without you for even a single day?” An-Shai inquired coolly. One of the palace servants had brought word that Orvet was seeking to speak with Adelinda. The two of them were just finishing a scanty dinner.

  “Of course they are, but 1 want to see him. I need to find out how they did today and what they plan to do tomorrow.” Adelinda rose.

  “You saw them today. And it is not polite to leave the bishop’s presence without permission.”

  “I didnlt have a chance to talk to them.”

  “I believe we agreed last night that you would observe our courtesies.”

  Adelinda sighed and sank back into her chair. “So we did. May I be excused?”

  “No, but I will have the man brought inside. You can talk to him in more comfort here.”

  Adelinda would much have preferred to speak privately to Qrvet, but it seemed wiser not to make an issue of the matter. When the Exorcist was ushered in and seated at the table with a cup of wine, they stiltedly discussed the delivery of the greathorses to Two Falls Village and the plans for the morrow, which involved a similar visit to Woodsgarth, a village in the south.

  “Karel was hurting pretty badly after the workout today,” Qrvet mentioned. “Li-Mun sent a healer who gave him some kind of chewy medicine that seemed to help a lot. He’s asleep.”

  “I’m glad they had something to help him. That leg gets bad when he does too much. Maybe he’d better rest tomorrow.”

  Adelinda and Orvet had been speaking the language of Godsland out of courtesy to the bishop. Now Orvet stumbled deliberately over some of the words. “Ah... Len, umm..

  He turned politely to An-Shai. “Will you excuse us, Your Grace, if we speak our own language for a moment? My command of your tongue is still imperfect and we must discuss one of Lady Adelinda’s employees, a subject that you will find of little interest.”

  “By all means,” An-Shai said graciously, deciding to have Li-Mun give him secret lessons in the outlanders’ language immediately. He would have given a very great deal to have understood the conversation of the next few minutes.

  “What does Len have against you?” Orvet asked in the king’s language.

  “Len?” said Adelinda bewilderedly. “Nothing that I know of. Why?”

  “He seems really bitter, but he won’t say why.”

  “Against me personally? I can’t imagine. He didn’t hesitate to take the job when it was offered.”

  “Did you have anything to do with keeping him out of the school in your town? He seems to carry a grudge about that.”

  “Why would I want to keep him out of school? Even if I could, which I couldn’t. I would have still been in school myself at the time—what is he, about five years younger than I am?”

  “Not that much, I think. Be careful, the bishop isn’t your only enemy here—and speaking of him, he’s starting to grind his teeth because he can’t understand what we’re saying. He seems determined to keep us from talking privately.” “That’s not all; he’s been setting nauseating visions on me. Meet me tomorrow night in the grove of trees at the bottom of the slope and I’ll tell you about it.” She turned to An-Shai and switched to Godslandish. “I’d like to thank you for sending your healer to help Karel. He’s my kinsman, and the pain is pretty bad
sometimes.”

  “I’m happy to help. There’s plenty of the medicine avail-

  able whenever the pain gets too bad. All he has to do is ask the healer.”

  “Thank you. If you’ll excuse me, Your Grace, I’ll walk my employee to the door.”

  “Certainly,” An-Shai said, rising smoothly. “Very courteous of you. I’ll come too.”

  Adelinda and Orvet exchanged speaking looks behind the bishop’s back, but were effectively prevented from any further private discussion. An-Shai seemed prepared to stay with them all night, if necessary, so they made their farewells and parted.

  Adelinda’s sleep that night was troubled only by her milling thoughts. She had known that Len was a bitter and sullen young man, but that his smoldering anger was directed at her personally she had had no idea. She had never harmed him or any of the farmer folk. In fact, she thought self-righteously, her attitudes toward them were a lot more liberal than most of the mountain folk. Orvet, she decided, didn’t understand them the way those who had lived all their lives around them did. Len carry a grudge because he hadn’t been admitted ,to the mountain folks’ school? Nonsense, the farmer folk all hated school and were glad that they only had five years of it to endure. She dismissed the matter from her mind.

 

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