Keep on the Borderlands

by Ru Emerson - (ebook by Flandrel; Undead)

  “There’s my windflower. How’s my little one?” he said.

  Blot went to her knees beside him, eyes searching anxiously before she buried her face in his shoulder and burst into frantic tears.

  “Don’t die! What’s Blot without ye?”

  The man brought up a hand to pat her shoulder awkwardly. It had been bound by a loop of rope to his ankle, effectively immobilizing him, though Eddis doubted he could have moved, anyway. Pain-tightened eyes met hers, then moved to the child. He does care for her, Eddis thought. More than his brother, at least, and I’ll wager he wants my assurance we’ll take her with us.

  She nodded, saw the look of relief on his face as he turned his full attention to the girl.

  “Why, you’ll be fine, child. It looks to me like my little windflower will have a chance to live somewhere clean and safe, just like we always wanted.”

  “Don’t want that! Not without you!” The hands tightened on his arm. He winced, but when Eddis would have moved to loosen the child’s grip, he met her eyes and shook his head. The eyes shifted. Eddis followed the man’s gaze and briefly closed her own. The bandit’s pale breeches were soaked with blood. She glanced at M’Baddah, shook his head again. The man didn’t have much longer, then, and he knew it, but he was still doing his best for the poor little wretch. The swordswoman stepped back a pace and nodded. The bandit smiled his thanks at her, then gave his full attention to Blot.

  “No, please don’t cry. Remember what I told you, last winter? Remember our bargain? That you’d do your best to not anger my brother, and then I’d find a way to get us free of here, and we wouldn’t be bandits anymore, you and me. I’d buy us a little house and some land, and horses, and a goat, and chickens. And we’d have a garden, and you’d have a place to sleep out of the wind and the cold, and you’d have warm water for washing, and real shoes, and clean clothes, and enough to eat. Remember?”

  Silence. The child choked on her sobs and nodded.

  “Well, I guess I won’t be there after all, but you will. That’s what I want for you, what I’ve always wanted, you know that, don’t you? So I want you to promise me that you’ll go with… ?” He looked up at Eddis, glanced at M’Baddah.

  Eddis nodded, gave him the names he was clearly seeking. He coughed rackingly, patted the child’s shoulder again as she drew back to eye him in sudden fright. “Go with Eddis and M’Baddah. They will care for you. They’ll see you have the clean clothes, and a warm place to live, and enough to eat. I swear that to you, my small wildflower.”

  Silence, except for the child’s soft weeping.

  “Now I want you to go, and remember that I’m smiling at you now. Just like this. Remember that, because then I will always be smiling when you think of me.”

  The child didn’t want to go, but somehow, M’Baddah persuaded her, speaking quietly against her ear, words only she could hear. Eddis knelt at the bandit’s side as the two slowly walked away, M’Baddah still talking to the grubby little girl.

  “We’ll take care of her. I promise you that. Somehow, we’ll keep her safe.”

  “Bless you—thank you,” the man said, his voice suddenly very weak. He coughed again, and this time frothy blood spilled over his chin. “Haven’t long, I—know. Never approved, m’brother keeping such an innocent with us. Back north and then here. Whatever her lineage, she’s better’n that. Deserves better. Not… just a drudge to evil men. Tell her that, for me. If she ever doubts.”

  “I will. I swear it,” Eddis said. She looked about for Mead, but the bandit coughed again, drew a sharp, pained breath, let it out on a long, faint sigh, and was quietly gone. Eddis looked down at his shell, closed his eyes with gentle fingers.

  “May that one good deed survive you and keep you safe in the afterlife, for the child’s sake,” she murmured, got to her feet, and walked away.

  It was still long hours until daybreak. Jerdren was portioning out watches and fire duty when Eddis beckoned him to one side.

  “We’re burying the captain’s brother,” she told him.

  He frowned. “We’re… we’re what? Eddis, I thought we’d agreed everyone goes back to the Keep! What if the castellan decides to give us a bonus by body count?”

  “Then we’re one short, that’s all. If you’d seen that child breaking her heart over the man, just now…”

  “She’s a child. They get over things,” he said. “We agreed on this. I don’t see why you’re so hot to change things.”

  “It’s no great matter,” Eddis said flatly. “You’ve got the captain, we’ll have whatever loot they’ve got up here. I don’t want that poor child to see her only friend thrown over the back of a horse and hauled into the Keep.”

  “Poor child, is it?” Jerdren grumbled. “And friend, was it? True friend would’ve set her loose in some town or village—”

  “Where she’d be ever after known as the raiders’ bastard,” Eddis broke in angrily, her voice low, so the child couldn’t possibly overhear her. “You don’t just take a child like this and hand her over to villagers or turn her loose in some town. There’ll always be someone who knows where she came from, or at least what she looked like when they got her, and they’d gossip, and you can imagine the kinds of things they’d say, can’t you?

  “No,” he replied blankly.

  Blorys came up beside him. He’d clearly heard most of the argument.

  “Sure you can, Brother,” he said. “Remember that dark, skinny lad back home? One who hung himself? People like our aunt threw it at him for years that his mother had been a tavern girl and no one knew who his father was.”

  “Well, yeah, but that’s different, Blor!”

  The younger man shook his head. “No, it’s not. And I agree with Eddis, anyway. Whatever that man did or was, the child deserves proper memories of a man she cared enough to cry over. And rites to remember him by. She’ll have ’em. You don’t like it, Jers, you can take any share his body might’ve earned us out of my portion.” His gaze moved across the camp, settled on M’Baddah and his young charge. “Though he might have washed her, once in her life.”

  “No,” Eddis said. “Maybe he did her a kindness. If she’s twelve years or more… you can wager none of the men here looked at her as a camp woman.”

  “Gods,” Blorys whispered and closed his eyes.

  Eddis walked away.

  Jerdren’s bewildered voice followed her. “What? Leaving a kid all filthy—that’s a kindness?”

  * * *

  A full day and a half later, nearly sundown, the company and its captives wound their slow way up the Keep road. Eddis walked ahead, leaving M’Baddah, Mead, and Jerdren to bring up the rear, the armsmen holding drawn swords, while Mead had several painful spells ready to invoke if any of the raiders decided to try escape. It might have been difficult for any of them, since the wounded among them were horsed but tied to their mounts, while those who had escaped injury were bound together in a long line, and afoot, under the watchful eye of the Keep men. Most of them seemed to have long since given up any hope of rescue or escape. The dead men were brought in at the rear of the long column, facedown over the remaining horses.

  For most of the afternoon, the child Blot had walked between Eddis and M’Baddah, but only because M’Baddah stayed with Eddis, and the child was comfortable only with him and a little with Blorys. Try as she might, Eddis hadn’t been able to breach the gap between the child and herself—the girl eyed her warily and avoided the swordswoman’s touch whenever she could.

  Thank the gods I have M’Baddah with me, she thought. The man had an instinct for communicating with shy, mistreated beasts of any kind, and on that count, Blot certainly qualified.

  At M’Baddah’s suggestion, he and she had heated water the morning after the surprise raid and did their best to clean the child. Blot objected, frightened of the mere idea, until M’Baddah convinced her that bathing was part of the funeral ritual for her friend. It might have been the first bath in the child’s entire life, at
least, after her mother’d died, Eddis thought. Her nose wrinkled. So many layers of dirt, grease, ash and cooking oils, mud, and anything else one could imagine. Underneath all that, the child was small even for ten years and incredibly thin—every bone in her body pressed against pale skin. There wasn’t the least hint of fat anywhere on her. No outward sign of maturity, either. Eddis closed her eyes, briefly. Thank all the gods there might ever be that M’Baddah was the one man she felt safe in trusting to help her bathe such a mess of a child and that the child had in turn trusted him to sponge her clean and wrap her in his own blanket after. The hair still wasn’t completely clean, but it was neatly cut.

  Mostly clean and clad in one of M’Whan’s tunics, Blot walked barefoot up the road, her hand in M’Baddah’s. Well, Eddis, the swordswoman told herself dryly, you always knew you’d be a lousy mother.

  The Keep road bent abruptly east, one of the final turns before the gates. Eddis glanced at those shuffling along behind her, was suddenly aware of the glad outcry from the walls above them. She bit back a smile. The gates would be open before they could announce themselves and their prisoners. This time, they’d be welcomed as honored guests, and tonight, they’d doubtless be feasted in the castellan’s halls and properly rewarded.

  They’d done well enough back at that camp. A chest in the captain’s tent was full of bags of coin, gems, and Mead had taken charge of a bag of charms and potions. There’d been other wealth—mostly silver and copper pence—scattered elsewhere in the camp. It came out to a good-sized purse each. Jerdren hadn’t been convinced that they’d found everything, but the bandits one and all denied there was any further hidden trove. With so much forest around them, it was possible they’d simply hidden things outside the camp or buried their wealth. In that case, the castellan’s dungeonmaster might manage to wring the location out of them.

  On Jerdren’s orders, the men had gathered together the bandits’ weaponry and brought it along. Most of it was inferior stuff, but the metal could be melted down for new blades. They’d also retrieved the hanging sides of meat that were still fresh. Both metal and meat would add to their shares, of course.

  Could’ve been worse, Eddis thought with a sudden grin. We didn’t get as rich by this as Jers expected, but it paid a lot better than caravan guarding. At the moment, she was glad to be coming back to civilization and the chance for clean hair and clothes, and decent food that wasn’t coated with ash from an open fire.

  She looked ahead as they came around the next bend, past the southeast corner of the Keep, and smiled. Sure enough, the gates had been thrown open, and there were guards in the road, cheering them on. On the walls, men and women were waving and cheering.

  Jerdren edged his horse forward, dropped to the ground, gripped her wrist and flung up his arm, dragging hers high.

  “Victors!” he shouted.

  Eddis felt her face turning red, and she tried to tug her arm free. He grinned at her and tightened his grip.

  She smiled up at the people on the walls and muttered, “You’ll pay for this, Jers.”

  “Bah! Enjoy it while you can,” he replied cheerfully. “Nothing like it, is there?”

  * * *

  That night, the castellan held a special banquet for the company. The last time they had been here, the main hall had been a vast, shadowy, and echoing place just inside the main doors. Now the chamber blazed with light, every candle in the elaborate, massive, sconces aflame. Long tables that had lined the walls were arranged to fill the great space, and Eddis gave up trying to count the number of people who had been invited. She recognized the taverner and his wife far across the chamber, and not far from them, the smith. Familiar faces were everywhere. She was abashed to find that she and Jers had been given the high-backed, padded chairs flanking the castellan himself. They were both clad alike in fine silk, their feet shod in soft suede boots made for them that afternoon, eating from silver dishes and drinking from gold-rimmed goblets, while their fellows were ranged at the heads of the tables abutted to the main one.

  The bandit chief and his uninjured fellows had been consigned to two of the deepest dungeon cells, close watched by guards. The injured men had been placed in another nearby, one of the company medics and his aides treating them before they were locked in for the night. The dead had been counted, named in the few cases possible, and set outside the northeastern walls for burning at first light.

  Eddis, M’Bhaddah, and a nervous Jerdren had explained about the captains dead brother and about the child called Blot, but Ferec had waved this aside as their personal choice and not mentioned it—or the child—again.

  Our problem, that child, Eddis thought. Gods, I’m afraid she really will be our problem, won’t she? She tried to forget about the girl as yet another toast was made to the heroes of the day, but that particular worry wouldn’t stay gone.

  It had taken all M’Baddah’s patience to get the frightened child into the Keep and into one of the inn’s private rooms that she would share with Eddis. It had taken a good deal of explanation to convince her that this arrangement was the only one possible, and Eddis still wasn’t sure the girl believed they would return to her after the banquet. She had been curled in on herself against the far edge of the cot when they left. We left her clean, she has blankets, water and food, the swordswoman thought. We certainly couldn’t have brought her here tonight.

  Another toast. She smiled, held up her goblet, and dutifully sipped the wine. What, she wondered, are we going to do with the child? She’s used to a rough life, but even so, to take her on the road, guarding caravans?

  The banquet was nearing an end, finally. The last sweet had been served, followed by a bowl of water to dabble honey-sticky fingers, that followed by a cool vinegar marinade of thin strips of venison—she managed to set that aside politely, aware of the scent of onions that pervaded both the meat and the liquid. Lastly, a silver bowl of mint leaves to chew, and through them, sip a final chilled tea.

  The castellan waited until she and Jerdren had drained their cups, then stood, raising his arms for silence, shaking his head minutely as the co-captains sought to rise with him.

  “Keep your places, my friends,” he said, his voice filling the vast hall.

  Loud cheers echoed from every corner. The castellan waited, smiling, and finally waved them down. Silence, which he broke, and for the first time, Eddis thought, he sounded like a city leader. The words had obviously been prepared ahead of time.

  “Long have we thought, my council and I—all the folk of the Keep!—how best to reward you! “Eddis, Jerdren, your kinsmen, and fellows! Those of our own who chose this dangerous and dire journey with you!” Brief silence. “The reward you earned is yours in any event, but it seems little enough for all that you did for us. Were our Lord Macsen yet alive, and the Keep as it was in his day, a bountiful place, a mark on the map where the wealthiest and most skilled of artisans came to bargain and trade, then would we heap you with gems and gold, and wealth of every kind!”

  A rousing cheer at this.

  I swear, Eddis thought tiredly, that I know what he’s up to. Is it another horde of bandits, or what?

  She glanced at Jerdren. From the look on his face, he’d reached the same conclusion. He raised an eyebrow. She shrugged. Your turn, this time, she thought cheerfully, and sat back in her chair. Ferec let this go on for some time, finally raised his hands for silence, and looked down at Jerdren.

  “My lord—I mean, Ferec,” Jerdren said with an abashed looking smile as he ducked his head. “We don’t ask any additional reward, really. What we did—well, that makes it safe for everyone on the road, doesn’t it? Including us? And—well, that we were able to help out…” He cleared his throat. “Well, maybe there’ll come a day you can heap those gems on us.” He smiled at the castellan, who smiled back.

  “Well, of course!” Feric broke in. He was smiling broadly, his arms up, encouraging the guests to cheer loudly. “However, I closeted myself with my advisors for most of thi
s day, and we thought hard, how best to reward you, since we cannot offer the gold and gems you so richly deserve.”

  Eddis’ skin felt cold, all at once.

  “We offer you another challenge, Jerdren, Eddis. Once again, we will supply all equipment you need—up to a reasonable cost, of course. A hundred gold each, say? That should easily cover weaponry, supplies, food, anything you require, and allow you to find and attack the Caves of Chaos, and clear them of all evil creatures!” His voice rang from the rafters. People cheered. Ferec smiled at Eddis. “If you choose, that is.”

  People were talking excitedly, all around them, but their own company was utterly still. Ferec smiled at Jerdren, at the startled company grouped around the head table.

  “Any gold, gems or other things of value you find are yours, entirely, as before. Any aid we or the master of arms, or the curate—any leader or any citizen of the Keep can offer—we will freely give. Any additional warriors or others to aid you, we will help you find them.” He looked around the table, leaned back in his chair, and drank from his silver cup. “I see that you are amazed—perhaps surprised to be so honored, all of you. So I will ask no response from you now, yea or nay. You Keep men who served as part of this brave company, you may sleep in your barracks and eat with your messes, if you choose, but you are exempt from other duties for now. When you all decide what your course will be, send word. Whatever you choose, I wish you all the blessings of the gods, and that of myself and all who dwell within the Keep.”

  Sure we can say nay, Eddis thought. I can imagine how welcome wed be here after that.

  Ferec was speaking once more. “Whatever you decide, the thanks and the blessings of those who now will feel free to come and go in more safety!”

  A roar of applause met this. Ferec smiled and waved, then raised Jerdren and Eddis to their feet.