The Sword of the Lady c-3

by S. M. Stirling

  The pouched blue eyes were shrewd as they regarded him.?You?re young but no young fool, are you, Mr. Mackenzie??

  Rudi grinned.?No, that I am not. I?m young, but I?m learning, so! Modesty?s a vice I leave to Christians.? ?And if I?m prime minister, Chancellor, whatever… I can make some changes. There are too many of Tony?s men in power to get rid of them without a civil war-I told Kate the truth about that-but with a real war in prospect, we?ll need reforms whether they like it or not. We?ll have to have the common people on our side, not just following orders.? ?We… all of the Prophet?s enemies… will need that strength,? Rudi said.?Iowa?s neighbors will listen to you, Colonel Heuisink; you have the reputation of an honorable man. And the Seven Council Fires of the Sioux will, as well.? ?They will with you vouching for me,? Heuisink said.?You?re the one who got adopted by them… Strong Raven! I wish you weren?t leaving us; it?d go better with you in person than in a letter.? ?The which is also my wish,? Rudi said.?That I was staying just long enough to then go west again with an army at my back to help my folk! But the Sword of the Lady is still waiting for me on Nantucket; nor am I truly the Lady?s Sword until I hold it. We have more than armies to fight, sir. We have to deal with-? ?Principalities and powers,? Heuisink said, and shivered very slightly.

  He crossed himself, and Rudi drew the Pentagram.

  MISSISSIPPI RIVER SCHOONER HAMMERDOWN NORTH OF DUBUQUE SEPTEMBER

  28, CHANGE YEAR 24/2022 AD

  Mathilda waved wistfully as the spires and towers and curtain wall of the Iowan city fell out of sight around a bend of the river. Their shadows fell long across the deck, with the morning sun at their backs. A propeller ship went by in the other direction, the crew chanting at the pedals belowdecks, and fishing boats were out like a flock of gulls. Rudi stood with his hand on the cool metal frame of the schooner?s bow catapult, his legs flexing as the ship nosed across the swell, content with the slap of water on the hull, the manifold thrum of wind through the rigging and the groan and creak and squeal of the wooden fabric beneath them. ?I?ll miss Kate,? she said after a while.?Her husband was a complete bastard, but she was… is… a good friend. A good woman. I don?t know how she could have loved him, but she did.? ? Acushla, if women didn?t have bad taste in men and weren?t prone to fall in love with right bastards now and then, it?s certain, sure and completely beyond question that humankind would have died out long ago.?

  Mathilda snorted.?Things would have been a lot harder for us without her. She?s really getting a grip on things there, too.?

  Rudi nodded; he?d had the same impression.?And now that she?s hatching from her egg, the which you had a hand in, I suspect she?ll be a very bad enemy to her foes, as well as a good friend to us. It?s important work you did there, work which may decide battles in our favor in a year or two, and perhaps turn the course of the war.?

  She leaned against him with a sigh, and he put his arm around her shoulders-careful of her wounds-and his chin on her hair, enjoying the clean summery smell of it.

  The sun was fairly warm as the morning went on, just comfortable despite the stiff breeze that fluttered the edges of his kilt and plaid, and snatched at his bonnet and shoulder-length hair. The ship heeled as the two triangular sails behind them thuttered and then cracked taut, smooth lovely geometric curves up the white-pine masts. The craft was rigged fore and aft, handy for the confined waters of even a giant river, and ninety feet at the waterline. A little spray came over the bowsprit and touched his face where they stood on the foredeck.

  The use of the ship was a gift from the new Regent and Chancellor of the Provisional Republic. She was big enough to take the party, their best horses, and all the Southsiders.

  The whole tribe of which are now a pain in the arse of cosmic dimensions, he thought. But we couldn?t leave them there, not even at someplace friendly like the Heuisink?s estate. Too many old angers, and they?d be too afraid and bewildered and cramped, too likely for it to end in blood if they felt deserted. At least they?re hardy sorts, and not settled folk. They?re all used to moving about in dangerous country in all seasons.

  It wasn?t something he could get too irritated about now. They were finally moving, and quickly-as much north as east, right now, granted, but on their way again, and soon they?d turn eastward up the Wisconsin River.

  I can?t say our stay in Iowa was wasted time, either. We?ve made a strong friend, and Corwin and its Prophet an enemy.

  And Mathilda was a pleasant warm solidity against his side, as well, the dearer for their separation. The blue-gray surface of the Mississippi slid by, the wooded bluffs on both sides streaked with gold and red and brown as the trees turned, above marshes clamorous with duck and goose and teal, where reeds had gone brown and spilled their white floating seed onto the air. That air smelled of wet and silt, tar and canvas and warm wood. And, faint and exciting, a hint of the wildwood.

  Mathilda grinned up at him.?No more prairies!? she said.?No more bug on a plate. No more walking and walking and riding and riding and nothing changes.?

  He laughed.?You took the thought from my mind, darlin?,? he said. ?Now, just put some high mountains on that eastern horizon, turn this river westward, sow the forest with some Douglas fir, and it would be downright homelike, eh?? ?Just like Montival?? she said.

  Rudi?s answering grin was wry. There was a yearning in the tone beneath the joke, and he knew his heart as well would leap when he saw the cone of Mt. Hood again, or sailed down the Columbia past waterfalls vein ing the cliffs in silver, or felt the soft autumn rains that dimpled the Willamette between willow-clad banks. ?That name… I think a kindly Power whispered it to me. It has a ring to it, does it not? For our home is all mountain and valley, and it?s beautiful… which the name is too, you see? Though Edain liked it even more than I.? ?I think it does have a ring to it,? she said.?We?ve all been talking about it and we all like it. It?s… it?s true. The name the land was waiting for.?

  There was something in her voice… He looked down sharply, and her bold-featured face was smiling in a way that had a disconcerting hint of her mother?s expression when she?d just maneuvered someone exactly where she wanted them-or was about to castle in a game of chess. The more so as she stepped out from beneath his arm.

  He turned, and all the companions of his journey were there, with Jake sunna Jake as well. Edain was grinning like Garbh; most of the others were solemn; Mathilda?s face had turned serious as well. ?You?ve been conspiring behind my back!? he said, half-angry, half-amused.

  Mathilda wasn?t in court dress today, of course, but the badge of the Eye was on the shoulder of her sheepskin jacket. She tapped it, and grew less grave for an instant. ?Conspiring? Hel lo! House Arminger, Rudi!?

  Then she drew her sword with her good arm, and carefully so as not to stress her healing ribs beneath the bandages. They all did, and raised the blades; Rudi felt himself struck speechless as the ship?s crew looked on curiously. ?Hail!? Mathilda cried, her voice proud as an ocean of lions. ?Hail… Artos! Hail, Artos the First, High King of Montival!?

  The others shouted it with her-some of them a little awkwardly, but just as loud; a red-tailed hawk that had been circling low took flight and soared upward into the blue dome of the sky.

  He waited until the sound died, and set his hands on his sword belt. ?Is it that you?ve all gone barking mad the now?? he said sharply. ?Here we are a thousand miles and more from home-yes, from Montival-and it?s a king you would make of me?? ?I think God wants you to be a king, R-Artos, not just us,? Mathilda said calmly.?And that?s why the Sword is waiting for you to bring it back.? ?You?re many of you heirs to rulers, but none of you rulers-well, Jake is, and Odard?s of age but he?s a vassal, not a sovereign himself. It?s our parents that should make any such choice, not us!? ?Or the head of my Order, for me, technically,? Ignatius said. ?Particularly since he?s my temporal ruler as well as my Father in God. But I have prayed for guidance, and… I think that this is right; even righteous. Against the dark Power that possesses Corwin, God would raise a bulwark of the Light.? ?I
don?t even believe in your version of the divine!? Rudi protested.

  Ignatius smiled with polite, invincible certainty.?That is a great pity. But nevertheless, He believes in you… your Majesty. And He is thrifty, and uses what comes to hand. I have that on the best authority.?

  Ingolf shrugged.?I?m not even an heir, just a younger son,? he said.?But yah, who cares what the old geezers think? Here, there, or anywhere? We?re all Changelings, or close enough-and this world?s going to be ours soon. If it isn?t going to end up belonging to the Cutters,? he added.?Which is what this crazy trip is all about, you betcha.? ?Aunt Astrid will love it,? Mary said with conviction, and Ritva nodded vigorously.?And mom… well, Signe?s reasonable. When she has to be. When it?s official Bearkiller business. Sorta reasonable, mostly.? ? I?m for it,? Frederick said, his brown young face grave.?Dad wanted the country united again, and tried all his life, but the bits and pieces went their own way in spite of everything he could do. My brother Martin… he just wants to take it all, hammer it flat, and kill anyone who gets in his way. It?s time to try something else, something that lets them all be different but puts them together as well. I know you, Rudi, and if anyone can do it, you can. I?d rather be your, umm, vassal, and follow you to victory than fail all by myself.?

  Virginia Kane grinned and took his arm.?I think you?re the boy to put a branding iron on the Cutters? ass, your exalted majesticalness,? she said cheerfully.? And serve up their Rocky Mountain Oysters on a plate. They killed my father and ran me off my family?s ranch; I want ?em dead bad. Plus it just needs doing and they just need killing. Besides, Fred?s my man. I go where he does, and his fights are mine too.? ?You?d have made a great Chief for the Clan,? Edain said.?You?ll do even better as High King, with Maude or Fiorbhinn to manage at home, they?re likely lasses. It?d be rank foolishness to deny it.?

  Mathilda nodded vigorously.?We can do the formalities at home, later, when you?ve got the Sword. But we are the future. Nearly everyone our age back home will want it; they already know about you, and the prophecy. And you?re our King, our Changeling King. Artos.? ?Don?t-? he began, then choked off: Don?t call me that!

  It is my name, he thought. Granted it?s my Craft name, but it was my own mother that gave it to me in the nemed, and her inspired and making prophecy the while. That?s when I was called the Lady?s Sword, too.

  A prickling ran down his spine, and a feeling as if a wind were tickling his neck… the wind of hovering wings. If it were to be done, he supposed this was the sort of place it would be done; far from home, and on his way into deadly peril. The Powers would have their jokes… and he had promised more than once to walk the path They set, though it led through the hard and stony places. Images flashed through his mind; Raven?s eyes looking into his, this moment. .. and a stricken field of battle where men roared his name as he bore a sword like a wind of flame. ?I…? he began, and then fell silent again.

  I have been walking that path perhaps… since my birth? Since the day Mother held me over the altar in the Sacred Wood? Perhaps only since I was old enough to know it, he thought. I am the sacrifice that goes consenting.

  Mathilda?s shining eyes twisted at his heart. All she saw at this moment was him returning in glory and victory, and herself at his side, to rule together. She was her mother?s daughter, and her father?s for that matter; kingcraft was in her blood. Not to mention that if he was High King, many of the religious obstacles to a marriage could be set aside-there were ample precedents for that in the long history of her faith.

  And yet if that comes to pass, and all you wish for is granted us

  … even then, anamchara mine, still the day will come when I know that the King must die so his folk may live. On that day I will leave you, be the parting never so bitter. I have it on the best of authority-from a God, if not your God-that it will be before I grow old. Mine is the blood that renews the land. Well, let us hope that day?s not today, or soon; and let us see that it is not shed in vain. In the meantime we have time, which can be lived in every moment. ?Is this truly what you want?? he asked softly-his eyes were locked on Mathilda?s warm brown gaze, but his voice included the others.

  For answer they thrust their blades into the air again; the young sun broke in a blinding glitter from the honed edges. ?Hail, Artos!? And from Mathilda and Odard and Ignatius:?Vivat Artos Rex! Vivat Artos Rex! Vivat!?

  The shout woke something in him-something he wasn?t sure of, stronger than a jolt of brandy or the battle fury of riastrad. He wasn?t a man hungry for power, but there was so much that needed to be done and which only a King could do. Defeat for the Cutters, first and foremost, but much else beside.

  Power for its own sake I do not desire. But a craftsman?s urge to set things right… that is in me, and there?s no doubt of it. ?I ask you again,? he said, and now he looked from face to face. ?Don?t do this unless you are sure. For there?s no going back. And keep this in mind. If I am to be a King, then by Earth, by Sky, I will be King indeed. For such is our land?s need, that?s beyond disputing. I won?t spare myself in serving that need. I won?t spare you, either, my friends.? ?Hail, Artos! Hail, High King of Montival!? ?So mote it be,? he said quietly, and the words fell into the world with a weight like bells cast from bronze.

  Silence fell again, broken only by the sounds of ship and river and wind, and the long sssshs -click! of swords being sheathed. Then Mathilda came forward and went carefully to her knees before him, her hands lying palm-to-palm before her.

  Rudi took them between his; they were warm and strong but almost vanished in his long-fingered clasp. She spoke proudly, looking him full in the face. The words were half familiar, but not exactly the formula her folk used, or his, or the Dunedain, or the Bearkillers. They must have talked it over between themselves…

  There go my people, he thought, remembering a saying his mother was fond of. I must hurry to catch up with them, for I am their leader.

  Mathilda?s voice rang: ?Here in the sight of God and all men I, Mathilda, daughter of Norman, daughter of Sandra, of the House of Arminger and in my person heir of Portland by right of blood, do swear fealty and service as vassal to the High King of Montival and take him as my overlord; in peace to serve with aid and counsel, in war with sword and goods and life, in my waking and my sleeping, in my living and my dying, with heart and hand and all Earthly worship; until death release me, or the world end. So witness God the Father, and Son, and Holy Spirit, and the Blessed Virgin who is Portland?s patroness and mine.?

  Rudi swallowed, but his voice was firm as he answered: ?And this oath do I hear and swear in turn: I, Rudi Mackenzie of the Clan Mackenzie?-the slightest hesitation-?also called Artos, son of Michael, son of Juniper; son of Bear, son of Raven, and High King of Montival to be. I will not forget your oath, or fail to reward that which is given: fealty with love, valor with honor, loyalty with good lordship, oath-breaking with vengeance. This I swear by the Earth below me, by the Sky above, by the Water that is my blood, and by the Fire that is my life, and by the Lord and Lady and all the Gods of my people. May they witness it.?

  Mathilda offered her sword; he touched hilt and steel and sheathed it again for her. Then she stood, and they put their hands on each others? shoulders and exchanged the kiss of peace on both cheeks. She came to stand at his right, erect, with her eyes bright and glad. Mary stepped forward and knelt in turn and offered her hands, and the others lined up behind her. Rudi took his half sister?s palms between his; her single blue eye seemed to wink at him for an instant-but that might just be that it was the only one she had left to blink with.

  When she spoke it was entirely solemn: ?In the sight of Manwe Sulimo and Varda Elentari and all of humankind, I, Mary daughter of Michael, daughter of Signe, of the House of the Bear and the fellowship of the Dunedain Rangers, do swear fealty and service as vassal to the High King of Montival-? ?That delay in Iowa means we can either hole up for the winter, or keep going despite it,? Rudi said two days later.?We?re far north and going farther, and the winter here will have all the wrath the Crone
can muster and the Keeper-of-Laws send.? ?Well, I?ve lived through a fair number of those winters. Snow?s easier to travel through than mud,? Ingolf said.?Or to travel over. It could snow hard as early as Halloween… Samhain… or even a bit earlier.?

  The Hammerdown was tied up for the evening, with a hawser stretched to the stump of something made of concrete and steel on the eastern shore, eroded and rusted but still strong. The travelers had set up tents ashore there-a little elbow room was very welcome-and Rudi could see, through the slanting windows of the stern cabin, the glow of their fires on the trunks and branches of the great trees that overhung the campsite. It was chilly enough that his jacket and plaid were welcome even in the rather stuffy cabin.

  He spooned up another mouthful of an entirely forgettable catfish stew and took a bite from a lump of equally uninteresting corn bread laced with soy meal, his attention focused on the map, a topographic one from a journal of the ancient world called National Geographic. Ignatius and Mathilda were there too; the priest paused to turn up one of the lanterns and the blue flame brightened across the aging, fragile paper glued to a backing of new linen cloth. ?The roads are pretty rough, especially past about here,? Ingolf went on.

  The Readstowner?s thick finger came down near his birth home, on the Kickapoo River. ?They already were when I left… and hell, that was a while ago, and there?s been plenty of frost and heave and floods since. Richland isn?t Iowa, and they weren?t kept up the same, or the railroads. But once the snow?s down hard, you can use sleighs, and skis. A man can go twice, three times as far in a day on skis as he can walking, and carry more of a pack, too, or pull a small sled. We?d make up the time. Stick to the rivers and lakes as much as we could.?

  Rudi used his spoon as a pointer.?Right east, then?? ?As far as the Great Lakes. Big chunks of?em freeze hard, especially around the edges, and from what I hear the St. Lawrence freezes solid all the way down to the ocean. We could go that way-less chance of running into hostiles if we stay away from land as much as possible. It?s risky, yah, but so is waiting for spring.? ?We?d have to wait for freeze-up,? Rudi said.?But we do need some time, not least for our wounded to heal fully. Matti and Odard need some rest before they do hard travel again. And to be sure, every time we?ve taken a break on this journey important things have come of it; not least friends willing to fight the Cutters, when the time comes. That?s time well spent, even if it slows us down enough to make me want to run screeching into the woods like a banshee full of brandy.? ?I can travel,? Mathilda said stoutly.?But… yes, I couldn?t run or fight well right now.?