“When will you teach them how to breed the horses?”
“In the spring, during the breeding season.”
“They don’t breed the year around, then?”
“Some mares may come into heat all year, but most don’t, and it’s better if the foals are dropped just when the new green grass is coming. The mares can make plenty of milk on the lush feed.”
“Very interesting. Come, walk with me a little. Have you seen the count’s mansion?”
“I’ve noticed it. Very impressive. Your noblemen don’t seem to have much to do, though.”
“The officers of the army are recruited from their ranks, and most of the noblemen have extensive business interests. The noble Tai-Din, whose mansion that is, for example, is one of the foremost cloth merchants of Godsland. He has two sons in the army, and his third son helps in the business. The noblemen lead a very comfortable and satisfying life. You don’t have different ranks in your Kingdom, do you?” “There are a few hereditary offices, but no real class of hereditary noblemen.”
“Yet you do have social classes.”
“As most societies do. They aren’t determined by birth, though, more by occupation.”
“I was under the impression that Adelinda and Karel were of a superior social class, and that Len, Tobin, and Ina were inferior.”
“In a way. Adelinda and Karel are horse-breeding and landowning folk who belong to the Guild of Beast Merchants. The others are from farming families who rent their land and belong to no guilds.”
“I see. How do you fit into this?”
“I’m neither one nor the other. I’m from King’s City, and I suppose you might say that I belong to an educated subclass that draws its members from all the other classes according to ability and desire.”
“Could you join the upper class if you so desired?”
“If I wanted to work that hard at it.”
“The way things are, though, you’re just another employee, like the farmer folk.”
“That’s true.”
“How would you like to be a nobleman and live in a mansion like that one, with servants to wait upon you and an important role in the affairs of the Vale?”
Orvet surveyed the hierarch. This was a bribe indeed! “I think,” he said carefully, “that I could get used to it.”
Li-Mun laughed. “I thought you could. If I were you, I’d think about my loyalties and what each employer has to offer very carefully over the next few days.” He slapped Orvet on the shoulder and went off in a high good humor to find Len and see how he was fermenting. His program was succeeding very well. He could see Ina giving Cho-Hei another driving lesson, and the nobleman was leaning very close to his instructor, who was not at all withdrawing from the contact.
Len was giving another set of plowing lessons. The sullen expression on his face was even more marked this morning, and Li-Mun nodded encouragingly to him before moving on about his business. Let the boy stew a bit longer and he’d be a weapon ready to the hand to turn against his employer, the hierarch thought.
That left only Tobin to be dealt with. Li-Mun sought him out. He was showing a group of awed farmers how a team of the powerful greathorses could snatch a recalcitrant stump out of the ground. Li-Mun watched, amazed himself at the power of the harnessed giants as they flung themselves into their collars, squatting behind as their enormously muscular haunches bunched and knotted with the gargantuan effort. Their harness creaked and jingled; their huge heads were lowered almost to the ground. They drove their brute power against the groaning roots. Hitched to these behemoths, the stump shuddered; a great root broke free of the ground; the trunk heaved complainingly over as the taproot broke, and the stump was dragged, defeated, to the side of the field. The peasants broke into delighted applause, and the great animals stood, blowing and nodding their heads with placid dignity as they accepted the applause as their due.
Li-Mun congratulated the grinning Tobin. “You’ve been working awfully hard,” he added. “Come and take a break in the shade.”
Tobin acquiesced readily. “The horses could use a drink of water,” he said. “They’ve pulled about a hundred of those stumps today.” He hooked the dragging trace chains into the harness and led the team to a nearby stream, where they drank thirstily. He tied them in a shady spot and joined the hierarch with the air of one who intends a good long rest.
“Adelinda certainly does work you hard,” Li-Mun observed sympathetically.
“We all work hard,” said Tobin, uneasily.
“Yes, but you more than the others, I think.”
Tobin knew very well that wasn’t so. He was a lazy man and he knew it. Much of his time and energy was spent devising ways of doing things that would cause him the least amount of effort. He saw no reason to do anything extra; he was not one, for example, to polish the harness just so his team would look smart. On the other hand, he was conscientious enough about things that really mattered. He wouldn’t let his horses go thirsty just to save a little work, for example. He also knew that he probably put in the least amount of work of any of the travelers, and if they were more liberally rewarded than he, he was willing to admit that that was fair.
Tobin thought. Li-Mun was probably testing him to see if he could be subverted, as Len had said he was tested yesterday. If that were so, he should play along and see what came of it.
Li-Mun had sat quietly while Tobin mulled these thoughts over (he was not a particularly quick thinker). “You seem to have a lot to do,” the hierarch prompted.
Tobin sighed theatrically. “I do get tired of doing all the work,” he admittted.
Li-Mun glanced at him suspiciously, but there was such an open, candid expression on the young man’s good-natured face that he dismissed the thought that he was being gulled. “Our farmers only work as much as they need to. The rest of the time they’re free to relax and take life easy,” he lied. “The easiest kind of work is herding goats. All the herders have to do is take the goats out to pasture and then sit in the shade and watch them all day.”
“That sounds like a good job.”
“It would be even easier for you. You could ride your horse to the pasture and back.”
“She isn’t my horse. She belongs to Adelinda,” said Tobin.
“She could belong to you. If you were working as a herder we’d have to see that you had a horse. You’d need a nice cottage in one of the villages, too, and a biddable little wife to wash your clothes and cook your meals and wait on you when you rested in the evenings.”
“You make it all sound heavenly.”
“Well, think about it for a few days.” Li-Mun went happily off to report to An-Shai that his program to subvert all of Adelinda’s employees was proceeding very well. He frowned a little when he saw Karel riding on the old gray as he checked on the progress of the various groups, but then he shrugged. A few more doses of the poppy gum and Karel was theirs to do with as they pleased; let him ride around a little today if he wished.
Li-Mun found that An-Shai was napping in the cool of the morning after having spent most of the night closeted with the visiting initiate. Adelinda, freed of his constant supervision, had ridden off on Red Hawk to explore the valley and check on the welfare of the horses that had been dispersed to the villages.
She enjoyed the day. She rode north in the morning, taking it easy, stopping at fountain or grove as the whim took her. She visited with the peasants she met and enjoyed the dreamlike beauty of the Vale. She and Red Hawk tasted the mineral-laden waters of the artesian springs. These fountains almost sparkled as they rose up from far below, so cold they made the teeth ache, incredibly refreshing. They splashed through a dozen creeks and brooks, startling the lazy little trout and perch out of their midday somnolence. They galloped over pastures so lush that they could all but hear the grass grow, and when she paused and looked back, the traces of their passage had been obliterated by the resilience of the vegetation.
At noon she returned to Bishopstown and
ate lunch with the rest of the travelers, and they were pleased to see her laughing and bright-eyed from the morning’s exertions. They had white crumbly goat cheese to eat with their vegetables and grain, and it almost reminded them of home, for they raised goats and made cheese of the milk there, too. They were starting to miss bread, which the people of Gods-land did not bake, and meat, which was served only on festival occasions, but they were getting used to the thin sour wine that was served at every meal, even breakfast. Tobin said wryly ithat he could understand why there were no alcoholics in Godsland; the wine would curdle in the stomach before one could get drunk on it.
Lunch finished, the travelers stretched out on the springy grass for a few minutes’ rest. Adelinda stretched luxuriously. “Len,” she said, “I’m going to ride south this afternoon. Would you like to come with me?”
“If you like.” His tone was almost surly.
“I’m not ordering you to. I’d like to talk to you, but if you’d rather not come, you don’t have to.”
Orvet shot a sharp look at Len. “I’d like to go,” the young man said hastily, with a little better grace.
“All right, then, saddle up and we’ll move along.” Adelinda went to saddle Red Hawk, who had been freed to graze nearby.
The two rode in silence for a while. The land to the south was more sparsely settled, more broken and wooded, with frequent rocky outcroppings and not quite so lush a ground cover. They came to one of the artesian fountains, a huge one that sent its twin streams of sparkling water higher than their heads as they sat their horses. At the highest point of each jet, someone had placed a clear hollow glass ball, blue and green, that danced there upheld by the force of the water. The water cascaded back into a rock basin, escaping through a break to flow away in a frothing brook.
“Come and taste the water,” said Adelinda, smiling at her young companion. “It’s different from any you’ve tasted before.”
They dismounted and sampled the water in the basin, finding it tangy, ice-cold, and subtly flavored, different from the ones Adelinda had tasted that morning, but invigorating. The chill of the water radiated out to drive back the sultry warmth of the afternoon sun; they were sprayed with an impalpable chill mist that soon drove them back from the basin’s brim.
“You’re right, I’ve never tasted anything like that. Why do you suppose it’s so cold?” said Len, swabbing the beads of mist from his face with his sleeve.
“It must come up from really deep in the earth under tremendous pressure,” speculated Adelinda, shuddering. “It’s a scary idea, isn’t it? Hundreds of feet down into the rock, darkness and the terrible weight of the rocks above are forcing this water up into the light of the sun, still carrying with it the cold.”
“I’ve read that in very deep mines the temperature goes higher and higher the deeper they go, until it becomes too hot for human life.”
“Really? Then this water must come from somewhere else.”
“Perhaps not such deep layers. I’ve been in caves myself, and it gets cool under the surface of the earth as far as I’ve gone.”
Adelinda shuddered again. “Weren’t you afraid of being trapped?”
Len regarded her with a trace of surprise. “No, I was careful not to go into dangerous caves. There are lots in the cliffs to the west of the valley back home. Didn’t you ever explore them?”
“Once, when I was little, I went with my brother. He and his friends thought it was a wonderful joke to sneak off and leave me in the dark. I was too petrified to scream. If Karel hadn’t come hunting me with a candle, I probably would still be there.” She laughed. “Poor Karel was always rescuing me from some scrape or other. I nearly choked him that lime. I wouldn’t let go of his neck and he had to carry me all (he way home.”
As they spoke, they drew aside to some convenient boulders, shaded by fragrant spicewoods and offering a view of the crystalline spring. “I think we need to talk, Len,” began Adelinda, waving him to the boulder next to hers.
Len sat down. The rock was closer to Adelinda’s than he would have liked; their knees almost touched, but it was the only one nearby. Apparently Adelinda noticed his discomfort. She hitched herself a few inches away under guise of stretching her legs. “Len, Orvet tells me you have a theory about finding out what An-Shai’s up to by looking into his papers and records.”
Len shrugged, his face averted. “Since I can’t read their script there isn’t much I can do about it.”
“Ah, but I can read their script, and I don’t suppose anybody but Li-Mun has the slightest idea about it. With me to do the reading, do you think you could find out what the bishop has in mind?”
“Maybe. But what would you need me for if you can read the papers yourself?”
“I don’t have any idea what to look for or what it would mean if I found it. Will you sneak in and take a look?”
“If you like.”
“If you’re afraid, forget it. I won’t blame you.”
Len flared angrily, “I’m not afraid. I’ll do it.” He hesitated. “If you’re sure you want to be associated with someone like me.” This time the contemptuous sneer was blatantly obvious.
Adelinda was taken aback and beginning to be a little angry. “What does that mean?”
“Just that I’m farmer folk and you’re horse folk. I thought maybe you’d rather not be around such trash.” The sullenness of his demeanor was being replaced with such a bitter rage as Adelinda had never seen. She realized that if she returned his rage with anger or reproaches he might be lost to them for good.
“It’s you who called the fanner folk trash, not I,” she said gently. “I can tell that something happened to make you hate us, and I’m sorry for it. When we get home, if you’ll tell me what it was that happened to you I’ll try to do what I can to right it, although you must know that I don’t have much influence among my own folk. For now, I’d be proud to help you figure out why the bishop is persecuting us.”
For the first time, Len looked at her. At last he muttered, “I don’t hate the horse folk, and it’s way too late for you to do anything about it. But I’ll look at the bishop’s papers. I said I would.”
Adelinda took a deep breath. “Good. Then come to the front door of the palace about two o’clock and I’ll let you in.”
Chapter 9
As Adelinda stole down the corridor from the guest room to the entrance hall of the palace, she paused at the junction of corridors that led to An-Shai’s quarters. All was quiet; no crack of light showed under the door of his library. The bishop had apparently gone to bed at long last. He had been working hard at something, cloistered in his library with a servant posted at the door to keep intruders out. Even Li-Mun had been denied admittance.
Adelinda retraced her route of the night before, yawning mightily. This necessity for sneaking around after dark was wearing her down. Nervously clutching the packet of white powder that Orvet had given her to ward off the incubus, she opened the door and peered out. There was no sign of life. She edged out onto the head of the stairs.
Len materialized out of the shadow beside the door, startling her and very nearly getting the powder in his face. “Oh, it’s you,” she hissed.
“Who else were you expecting?”
“Keep your voice down. You never know around here. I haven’t gone through a single night yet without being set upon by some kind of supernatural being. Come on—no, take your boots off.”
They slipped through the entrance hall and paused at the junction of the corridors, where Adelinda had left an unlighted candle. “The library’s down this way,” she was whispering when the door to the room farther down the corridor from the library was flung open and Tsu-Linn came out, followed by An-Shai. Adelinda and Len, who had been
about to light the candle with his flint striker, shrank back into the shadows.
“... ought to be asleep by now,” An-Shai was saying.
“I’ll check. You take the drug and get ready. Where’s her room?”
“It’s the first guest room on the right. I’ll get you a candle.” They went into the library.
Adelinda gasped. “That’s my room! Come on!” she whispered.
“I can’t go into your room with you.”
“Don’t be an idiot! I’m not going to attack you.”
“I didn’t think you were going to,” said Len with dignity. “But these people take a very serious view of—er, sneaking around at night. If I were found there it could mean trouble.” “You can’t get out; the only way is past the bishop’s quarters. I don’t know where else to hide you. Come on!” They hurried back to Adeiinda’s room. She had pushed her packs under the sleeping bench on the opposite wall from her usual bed place. Pulling them out, she motioned Len under the bench and pushed the packs back in front of him. It was fortunate that he was rather slight of build, for Adelinda believed in traveling light, and there was only a scanty cover even when he drew his knees up. Then she leaped into her bed and pulled up her blanket.
She was barely in time. The door opened and Tsu-Linn came in, a candle in one hand and a pear-shaped black object in the other. This was a magical apparatus called a suf-fumigator, and Adelinda found out almost immediately what it was used for. As the initiate entered, she raised herself and said sharply, “Who’s there?” She deemed it wise not to try to feign sleep or to give the nocturnal visitor a chance to hear that there were two breaths being drawn in that room.
“You sleep very lightly,” said Tsu-Linn calmly. “Don’t be afraid.” He stepped closer to the bed, pointed the small end of the pear into her face, and squeezed sharply. Naturally enough, Adelinda gasped, and as she did so, her lungs filled with an acrid smoke. She made a strangled noise and sank back onto her pillow. Tsu-Linn stood for a moment, watching her struggle for breath. When she sagged loosely, he smiled with satisfaction and left.
Len had watched through a tiny opening, paralyzed with astonishment and horror. As soon as the door closed on the initiate’s heels, he shoved aside the packs and crawled out. Quickly, he went to Adelinda’s bed and bent over her. Her eyes were open, but stared unseeing past him, nor did she respond when he called her name. Frantically, he shook her, without result.
Claudia J Edwards - [Forest King 02] Page 12