Less easy to dismiss was the realization that An-Shai meant to keep her effectively isolated from the rest of her party. That gave her an uneasy feeling. Evidently the agreement they had struck last night was not satisfactory to him, but what did he want? Was he so religious that he couldn’t bear to know that there were people who were not followers of his Quadrate God in his Vale? Then why keep her so closely by him? Or did he regret having agreed to spend so much on his foreign employees? But if that were the case, why didn’t he just send them home? Adelinda had a lot more questions than answers. She slept lightly and restlessly that night.
An-Shai spent the greater part of the night searching through his scrolls for mention of a supernatural that he could use to master the outlander woman. It would have to be one with the power to inflict real physical punishment on its victim; Adelinda had already proved that she was not easily frightened. On the other hand, it had to be one he could control, and not one that would kill its victim. That would be as bad as having her escape him—no, worse. Death was far too final an escape.
In the small hours, he fell asleep with his head on his desk and dreamed that he pursued Adelinda down an endless hallway, ever and again drawing close enough to seize her, only to have her melt like fog from between his clutching fingers and flee onward with a mocking laugh.
It was morning then and Li-Mun was shaking him. Those who meddle with the supernatural are always at risk, and the secretary had been startled to find his superior sprawled untidily over his scrolls—very unlike him. An-Shai could not very well be described as a man who liked his comforts; the regimen that the Church’s rules prescribed for a bishop contained little that could be described as comfortable. But he was a man who didn’t go out of his way to be uncomfortable. He blinked blear-eyed at his secretary and rubbed a stiff neck.
“What is it?” he grouched.
“It’s morning, Your Grace, and the outlanders have already started out for their day’s work. I assigned the woman Ina to teach the noble Cho-Hei how to drive a cart hitched to a team of the greathorse mares.” Seeing that An-Shai was staring at him without comprehension, he added, “Cho-Hei’s wife died last winter, Your Grace, and he’s a man who likes women. More importantly, he knows how to make women like him. His priest would have had him married again, for the safety of the village girls, if you hadn’t proscribed marriages this spring.”
“I see,” said An-Shai, remembering that one part of his scheme to isolate Adelinda from her countrymen was to place a romantic distraction in Ina’s way. “Have you talked to him about what he’s expected to do?”
“Yes, and I must say he seems enthusiastic about the idea. He said that this was one command from the bishop that was no hardship.”
“Harumph! I hope you explained that there was no need for him to actually ... er...”
“Oh, yes, Your Grace, quite clearly. He said he knew there must be a catch in it somewhere, but that the hunt was always more fun than the kill—whatever that means.” “Cho-Hei’s a competent man, and if you’re sure he understands what he’s to do I suppose we can trust him—but keep an eye on the situation just the same. Where’s the woman Adelinda?”
“I told her you wanted another riding lesson, so she’s waiting for you where the carpenters are building the new stables for the breeding stock. I sent the healer with another dose of poppy gum to the crippled one. The dark-haired one I asked to give me a driving lesson today, and I’ll sound him out about his feelings about his employer then. The lighthaired one is off to deliver horses to the northern villages, and if I read my man correctly, he’ll dawdle along the way enough to make a whole day’s journey out of it.”
“Very well, FT! get some breakfast—God’s knees!” An-Shai had made a feeble attempt to rise. Pain laced him from a dozen—no, a hundred different places on his body. He sank back into his chair weakly. “Did you tell the woman I’d ride today? Man, I don’t think I’ll be able to walk!”
“Oh, you’ll be fine, Your Grace. The same thing happened to me the first time they put me on one of their horses. I thought I’d be crippled for life, but they told me that all I needed was to get back on a horse and ride even farther, and they were right. Up you come!” With the callous lack of sympathy of one who has recently been through the same agony, he hoisted the bishop to his feet and guided his tottering steps into his sleeping quarters.
By the standard of the people of Godsland, Cho-Hei was a handsome man, with the sleekness and grace so much admired there and a perfectly magnificent mustache. Even by the standards of the Kingdom, he was good-looking, taller than the average of his countrymen, with flashing dark eyes and a ready smile. Ina felt his charm as she felt the glowing warmth of the sun. He was a willing pupil as they drove up and down the narrow roads of the Vale, two greathorse mares pulling a hastily converted farm cart, but he seemed more interested in her than in what she had to teach him, and that she found intriguing.
“That’s good. Keep a light pressure on the bits. Don’t start the turn too soon or the cart will hit the gatepost. The left rein now—very good! Your learn fast, Lord Cho-Hei.” “It’s easy when one has such a fascinating teacher.” Cho-Hei leaned toward her and smiled down upon her. “Show me again how to arrange these thongs in my hands.” “Reins.” There were no words for many of the items of horse tack the horse folk used, so they were teaching their own words to the students. “Like this. This goes to the near side of the near horse, here, and that goes between these two fingers, and when you need to use the whip you switch both of these to this hand and then back again.”
“I don’t understand why I need to use a whip; the horses seem willing enough to go.”
“It isn’t a punishment, but a signal. See, your off horse is lagging and not taking a fair share of the load. Touch her with the whip and she knows she’s to move into the collar. Good! Oh, dear.”
The last was because in switching the reins back, Cho-Hei had gotten them tangled and was fumbling with them. Confused by the random tugs on the reins, the near horse threw up its head and stopped; the off horse tried to turn sharply right. The whole equipage ground to a halt. “Never mind,” the noble said gallantly. “You can show me again how to hold the reins and then how to start them up. It’s going to . take me many days to learn to drive properly.” He was clearly pleased by the prospect.
Ina sighed. “It’s really very easy. Maybe you’d learn faster from one of the men.”
“But I shouldn’t enjoy it nearly so much. No, I think I really must insist on your company for as long as it takes to learn... and didn’t you tell me that sometimes four or six horses are driven at a time?”
“Sometimes, with very heavy loads, even more, but I’ve never driven more than two myself.”
“Well, then I really think that as soon as I have learned to drive I ought to learn to ride. Now where do these reins go?”
* * *
Several miles away, Len was putting Li-Mun through much the same sort of exercises, though his pupil was a good deal more attentive and had no trouble at all figuring out how to hold the reins. After a good spell of trotting and backing, Li-Mun halted his team in the shade of a grove of pale lacy-foliaged trees. “We’d better let the horses breathe a bit,” he said, wiping the sweat off his forehead.
“You don’t need any more instruction, anyway. All you need now is practice.”
“It doesn’t seem unduly difficult... Tell me, do you think these horses could be used to pull a chariot like the bishop’s?”
“Well, it would have to be bigger. The tongue that fits those onagers would be way too small for greathorses, and it rides so low to the ground that I don’t think the driver could see over the horses’ ramps. But it seems kind of silly to have two horses pulling a man around when he could just as well ride one.”
“You don’t make allowances for the bishop’s dignity. He isn’t just concerned with getting from one place to another; he has to do it impressively. It’s the same as it is with your emplo
yer, Adelinda. She could just as well be friendly to you and treat you like equals. But she has to keep a distance and treat you like you aren’t quite responsible adults, so that you’ll all remember who the real leader is.”
Len gave the hierarch a startled glance. “Adelinda treats us all right. She pays the best wages of anyone in the mountains.”
Li-Mun feigned surprise. “You mean that your people like being treated that way? Or does she pay you extra so you’ll put up with it?”
“She pays extra because she knows we have a hard time making ends meet. All of us are saving money this trip?” “Indeed? She’s very kind to share her profits with her employees.”
“She’ll do all right out of it, too.”
“Of course. It just doesn’t seem right that she should be so proud. After all, where would she be without you?”
Len gave the secretary a suspicious stare. “I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”
Li-Mun sighed. “Why, nothing at all. I had just observed that she was a trifle arrogant toward her employees. In Godsland, no woman is permitted to behave like that toward any man. If she were one of us, she’d be put in her place fast enough, believe me! It rather seemed to me that you resented it, too.” He laid his hand on Len’s shoulder in a brotherly way. “And I for one certainly wouldn’t blame you. Women like that deserve a good sharp setdown. I wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t just the man that could do it, too, if you had half a chance.”
“Adelinda is my employer. She’s always treated me fairly. If there are any hard feelings between us, that’s for her and me to work out. I’ll tell you this much, too: as long as she pays my wages I’m her man.”
Li-Mun nodded approvingly. “Your loyalty does you credit, Len! I wonder if she knows how you feel. Does she feel the same about you? If the chips were down the other way, would she feel quite so obligated to back you?”
Len stared at the hierarch as if stunned. Li-Mun had struck a staggering blow, he could tell, though he had no idea why. Len had no answer for him, and he resolved to let the thought he had planted fester for a while. In a few days the conversation could be resumed, and he could drive home the resentment and turn it to advantage. Len, he considered, was as good as subverted, at least if he could discover what “hard feelings” there were between him and Adelinda and exploit them. He changed to the subject and chatted of inconsequential matters as they drove back to the halfcompleted stable yard, noting with satisfaction that Len was exceedingly quiet and thoughtful.
Orvet had noted and was disturbed by the deft way all the outlanders were sent off in different directions. With Adelinda kept out of contact with the rest of the group, her actions hampered by the constant presence of the bishop, and Karel dozing in their quarters, mercifully free of pain for the first time in years, Orvet felt responsible for his fellow travelers. He was teaching a novice stable crew how to clean and care for the big horses, and saw Ina and Len depart with their respective students in different directions, and Tobin ride out with a string of three greathorses to deliver to a distant village. He was even more perturbed when Ina returned with a dreamy expression on her face. Len came back later, his face dark with brooding thought. Tobin had not reappeared long after he should have been back. Orvet was deeply concerned.
Adelinda, too, was worried. An-Shai, even though he was obviously in agony, had insisted upon another riding lesson, and then a return to the palace, where he began her lessons in the complex etiquette surrounding a bishop. Her suggestions that her time might better be spent teaching some of those who were actually to use the horses, were brushed aside.
“Since I’m paying for your time,” he said haughtily, “you must leave it to me to decide how it can best be used. You must try to understand that I must never be contradicted or even spoken to unless I speak to you first. The right to decide whether or not to open a conversation is mine.” Adelinda, sighed. “Then how am I going to teach you anything?”
“When you’re giving me a lesson you may consider that you have my permission to speak. Likewise, when only the two of us are present, you may speak to me as you would to your own countrymen, bearing in mind of course that you call me ‘Your Grace’ and not by my given name as I have heard them speak to you.”
“Is that a universal rule, that people can only talk to you when they’re alone with you?”
“No, it’s a universal rule that no one may speak to me under any circumstances unless I speak first. If I had a wife, she would have to obey the rule, or if my aged parents were here, they would have to obey it. I’m making an exception in your case.”
“You certainly seem to be surrounded by rules. Even the clothes you wear and the food you eat are prescribed by rules, aren’t they?”
“Of course. I consider myself privileged to wear a bishop’s simple robe, restrict myself to a vegetarian diet, sleep on a single blanket spread on a stone sleeping bench, rise at dawn, and live by all the other rules that a member of the Church must obey.”
“It hardly seems fair.”
“Eh?” An-Shai blinked, astonished by the unexpected response. “Why not?”
“You work hard running the Vale. I’ve seen you. It seems to me that things would be easier for you if you were allowed a few friends, a good meal, and a more comfortable house than this pile of rock. Back home, the poorest farmer family has more comfort than you do, and I daresay gets more pleasure out of life. Why does anybody want to be a member of the Church?”
“The Church is the only way a boy can use his life to some effect in the world. If you don’t choose the Church, you are choosing to spend your life in the same ignorant rut as all your ancestors. It is a man’s duty to do what he can best do to serve the Quadrate God, and the brighter and more ambitious can best serve Him through his Church.”
“I see,” said Adelinda, noncommittally.
The discussion of etiquette went on for some time, but only half of An-Shai’s attention was on his lecture; he was grappling with extraordinary experience of having been treated like a person. It hadn’t happened to him since he joined the religious life.
In the afternoon they walked down to the new breeding farm, which had been placed at the foot of the slope below the palace, where An-Shai could keep an eye on things from his shady balcony. So it happened that they as well as the rest of the travelers were present when Tobin came lashing his foaming chestnut mare down the valley at a dead run. It was so unusual for Tobin to put himself to any exertion that they all stopped whatever they were doing and stared—and when he pulled the mare to a sliding stop, peeled off, and came running up to them they were even more dumbfounded. His face was a mask of horror, pale, eyes starting from his head. He was breathing in such gasping gulps that for a few moments he could not speak> Orvet led him aside and seated him on a pile of timbers intended for the stable.
“What is it? What’s the matter?” Adelinda askedd him kindly, almost soothingly, sitting beside him.
“There’s some kind of monster in this valley. 1 was riding back from delivering the horses when I saw a nice little stream. It looked cool and I was hot so I decided to stop and take a swim... and let my horse rest,” he added hastily, a little shamefaced. “I rode downstream, looking for a deep hole. I came to this pretty little clearing on the bank of the creek where there had been a farm. It all looked neat as a pin, fences mended, sheds painted, a real picture of a small farm, and I couldn’t understand why such good farmers would leave old rags all heaped in piles around their front yard. Something was spooking my horse, too, so I got off and went over to investigate.” He stopped, swallowed hard.
“I found all the people, the farmer and his wife, the old folks... and ... and the babies... killed and partly eaten.” He stopped again, mouth working. “The tracks were almost human, but whatever it was had teeth and claws. Only the insides were gone on the adults, but the babies were mostly gone. I hurried back here—I thought the bishop ought to know. If, we get saddled up and get going, maybe w
e can catch the... whatever they were... before dark. They left a plain trail.”
An-Shai swore internally, though he arranged his face into an expression of deep concern. The outlander had found the work of night stalkers. It was not often that they wiped out a whole family like that, but occasionally, if there was a large enough pack of them and if they found an isolated homestead, they might do so. An-Shai resolved to have a word with the village priest who was responsible for the family; they shouldn’t have been permitted to move out of their native village.
He was more than a little startled by the explosion of activity that followed Tobin’s story. Almost before he could draw breath to forbid it, horses were being saddled, arms fetched, and the outlanders were mounting up to ride out. He shouted futilely after them, but if they heard him over the clatter of galloping hooves, they failed to respond. Even the crippled Karel rode with the outlanders, and Adelinda was gone quite beyond his careful control. He shouted for his greathorse to be saddled, but since the newly chosen stable-hands were far from expert, by the time Blackie was saddled and he had scrambled awkwardly onto his back, the outlanders were long gone.
Chapter 7
The six travelers took little time to inspect the grim remains at the clearing. Only Orvet dismounted and looked around; the rest preferred to keep a bit of distance between themselves and the grisly heaps in the well-kept farmyard.
“Night stalkers would be my guess,” he reported grimly, as he swung back onto his nervous mount. “They will have bedded up somewhere when the sun rose. We’re lucky; they’re not hard to kill for a healthy, active person. If it had been a werewolf we’d have had a job on our hands, and likely lost some of our people.”
The thfee farmer folk were listening with amazement. “Who’s the best tracker?” Adelinda asked.
There was a short silence. “I’ve been on a few hunts in the mountains,” Len offered diffidently. “My folks needed the meat.”
Claudia J Edwards - [Forest King 02] Page 8