Valdemar Books

by Lackey, Mercedes

  “That doesn’t sound very . . . heroic.” Val was either oblivious to the effect his blurted comments were having, or today he was just letting his thoughts go straight to his mouth without pausing to examine them. He wasn’t usually this clumsy. Darian winced inside, waiting for the rebuke.

  But Kero actually softened a little. “My dear boy, I have been fighting for all of my adult life. I don’t have anything to prove anymore. I never did when I was a mercenary; if a merc doesn’t live, he doesn’t get paid. Heroics are for the young with nothing to lose.” Then she raised an eyebrow and added dryly, “When it comes down to cases, Eldan’s job is more important than mine. Diplomacy is much more economical than combat, unless you just happen to have a lot of people and no food to give them. Think about it, son. Think about it in terms of these green and fertile fields, and all the people who live on them - and the possibility that these new people are very, very hungry.”

  Distant thunder growled, and it grew darker in the dining hall. Hertasi went about quietly lighting lamps.

  Val finally figured out that he had been very rude and inconsiderate - and worse, perhaps, from his point of view, he’d exposed himself as inexperienced and immature. He blushed a brighter scarlet than Darian had ever managed and looked down at the table.

  So much for Val’s love affair with heroic ballads. What I didn’t kill, Kerowyn flattened. But Kero was already getting down to business, and Val quickly got caught up in the plans along with everyone else.

  “All right then, gryphon - Kel, right? - Kel, give us the numbers, then we’ll have something to work with.” Outside, thunder rumbled, warning that the storm was upon them. The first drops of rain hit the roof heavily.

  “Of rrreal fighterrrsss, five hundrrred and twenty-two. Of old men, old women, youngsssterrrs old enough to take a weapon, and women without babesss, fourrrr hun-drrrred and eighteen. Of ssssmall childrrren, babesss, nurrrsing and prrregnant motherrrrsss, and crrripplesss, two hundrrred and forrrty-one.” Kel sounded very sure of himself and added, “I counted in many passsssesss, until the numberrrsss alwayssss came out the sssame.”

  “Good for you - wait, did you say cripples?” Kerowyn stared at the gryphon incredulously. “Are you serious? There are crippled people among them?”

  Kelvren had to wait as a flash of lightning followed immediately by an enormous peal of thunder drowned out any attempt at discussion. The rain began in earnest, drumming down on the roof with the promise that this would not be a mere cloudburst.

  “Yesss. Mossst arrre childrrren, but sssome are adultsss.” He scratched an ear-tuft slowly and thoughtfully. “I thought that sssseemed odd, myssself.”

  “Most barbarian societies that I’ve ever heard of wouldn’t allow their cripples to live, much less cart them along on a cross-country trek,” Kero said, tapping her lips with one finger. “Unless, of course, the cripple had a special skill that was vital to the tribe but didn’t require mobility. Obviously, no child would qualify to live in that way. What’s going on here?”

  Darian decided to speak up. “That doesn’t sound anything like the first lot of barbarians that came here. They killed their own wounded.”

  “In-ter-est-ing.” Kero drew out the word, intoning each syllable as if it was a magical incantation. “Well. What else can you tell me, Kel?”

  “That the way behind issss blocked. The ssstorm we have now isss jussst the firrrssst of many to come - ssso sssay the weatherrrr sssignssss and the weatherrr-watcherrrssss among the Tayledrrrasss.” Kel nodded at Snowfire who gave silent confirmation. “The rrriverrrsss to the norrrth arrre flooded. The tribe cannot rrrretrrreat.”

  Darian listened to the rain on the roof, and thought about hundreds of people trapped by rain-swollen rivers. How were they handling it?

  “That is not good; we can figure that if these people aren’t desperate now, they will be when we confront them with no way to retreat.” She looked around the table, making certain that she met everyone’s eyes. “They’ll not only be desperate, but trapped, if we fight them, we can count on them fighting to the last man, woman, and child. We’ll win, but it will be expensive, and we’ll end up with a gaggle of barbarian children and cripples to take care of afterward. This is, of course, assuming that the mothers don’t kill the children to prevent them from falling into our hands, which is very likely. Think you can handle having to sort through and bury a lot of dead babies?”

  Darian felt his stomach lurch, and everyone else looked rather grim. Val was white, probably his imagination working again.

  I don’t like these people, but I don’t hate them that much.

  Kero nodded. “I thought not. Good, we will pursue diplomacy until there is no chance whatsoever that we can make it work. Fighting will be the last of a very long list of choices. Are we agreed? Aye for those who are.”

  There was no dissension, and when Darian checked the expressions of the onlookers, there wasn’t any discontent there, either. Some of the Tayledras, and a couple of the Guard, looked dubious, but no one disagreed. More thunder rolled outside, and the windows lit whitely as lightning passed somewhere above.

  Now I see why Kero didn’t mind having people listen. This is better than having rumors running wild through camp.

  “Eldan, I yield the table to you,” she said, sitting back in her chair, with her arms folded comfortably across her chest. “If I’ve got anything to say, I’ll just raise my hand like the rest.”

  Eldan chuckled, as if this was a joke only he and she understood. “Right enough, Kero. The first step in a diplomatic meeting is the first contact. Does anyone have any ideas there?”

  Lord Breon cleared his throat. “We talked about it some, already. Figured we’d come in looking strong enough to squash any offense without thinking about it, but holding our hands to give these people a chance to speak for themselves. Show of magic, show of strength, even bring in the birds and the nonhuman allies to impress ‘em with our totem animals.”

  “That’s a good plan; I think anything subtle is a waste of time,” Eldan replied, with an approving glance around the table. “There is one thing I would like, as a ‘just in case.’ I’d like to evacuate the village - ” he consulted a paper, “ - ah, Errold’s Grove. I’d like to send the evacuees to Kelmskeep for safety.”

  Lord Breon protested in alarm. “Wait now, in the middle of growing season? There’ll be things that need harvesting soon - and herds - and - ”

  “Whoa!” Eldan held up his hands, cutting Lord Breon short. “I didn’t say everyone. Evacuate those who are too frightened to stay, children, women with babies, the elderly. Basically, anyone who can’t move in a hurry or will panic if trouble comes. This time we have warning, and we’ll have time enough to clear the rest out if there’s fighting and if it looks as if it will move in the direction of the village. All right?”

  Lord Breon frowned, but agreed grudgingly. “I don’t think you realize how much work everyone has in growing season, though,” he grumbled. “This is going to leave my farmers and small-holders mightily short-handed.”

  Darian saw Kero and Eldan exchange another look, and Eldan’s slight shrug. “I think your farmers and smallholders will be grateful that their families are somewhere safe, my lord,” Eldan soothed. “And if you are worried about the harvest, perhaps some of our fighters could pitch in to help. They won’t be doing anything here but drill, and some of them might appreciate the change of pace.”

  Darian thought of something that might be an incentive. “There must be twenty pretty girls in that village with no husband-prospects, and there’s a perfectly good inn there as well.”

  Kero grinned and winked at him.

  “There, you see?” Eldan spread his hands. “We’ll take our volunteers from those who grew up farming. At that rate, you can even have the mothers with young children as well as those with babies evacuate. In the event that the whole village needs to be cleared out, we’ll have a rearguard in place to hold the road behind!”

 
Lord Breon sighed heavily. “All right. It’s a damned good idea, and I’ve no doubt m’lady can keep the whole lot of ‘em busy helping with wedding froufraraw.”

  “Kelvren, can you fly a long sortie tomorrow?” Kero asked, as if struck with a sudden thought. “I’d like you to see if there’s any pattern to the barbarians’ migration.”

  Kelvren slapped his foreclaw to his chest in what Darian thought must be a salute. “Cerrrtainly.”

  “Right.” She looked around the table. “Can anybody think of anything else for now?”

  “Only that we should make this meeting a daily one,” Snowfire said, and smiled apologetically at Lord Breon. “Sorry, my lord, but unless you prefer to let us deal with this without your opinions or wishes, your lady will have to do without you for a while.”

  “My lady told me to pack my bags,” Lord Breon replied and grinned. “She reckoned Val and I were in for an extended stay. Gods forbid that fighting comes that far, but she can command my personal troops as well as I can, and as for setting up for refugees and a siege - she’s as good or better than I am. That’s one reason why I wed her in the first place.” Val looked startled, as his father bowed to Starfall and Snowfire. “ ‘Fraid I’m going to have to beg quarters from you, gentlemen, and camp-space for my men.”

  Keisha felt as if she had somehow fallen into someone else’s life. Here she had gone along for years, with nothing more serious than sick sheep and broken bones to take care of, and nothing more worrisome than trying to work her way through those damned indecipherable texts. . . .

  And now?

  She was living in a Hawkbrother Vale, taking lessons from one of the most famous mages in the world - well, in Valdemar, anyway - learning how to do things that weren’t even in those texts. And if that wasn’t enough, now there was an army in residence, with no less than three full Healers and six apprentices, all perfectly willing to give her extra lessons and advice if she thought she needed it. She had seen more new people at once in the last few days than all of the people she’d ever seen in her life added together.

  “Not that you really need much advice,” observed Gentian Arbelo, the most senior of the three. He was also the oldest, bald as an egg, and the thinnest healthy man Keisha had ever seen. “You have all the basic herb-knowledge so solidly there’s no point in questioning it, and you could teach us a few things about the local cures. As for using your Gift - ” he shrugged. “It’s more a matter of practice and getting comfortable with it than needing any advice or lessons. Still, if you want to sit in when any of us work, we’ll be happy to link minds with you so that you can see exactly how we do things.”

  “Please,” Keisha responded immediately, hoping she didn’t sound as desperate as she felt. “Please. I need experience, and I’m horribly afraid I won’t have much time to get it.”

  “There is that,” agreed Nala Karcinamen, the junior Healer. “If there’s fighting, well, we’re going to wish we had double our number.”

  The middle, a robust and cheerful man, of middling height, brown hair, eyes, and beard, who called himself Grenthan Miles, made a face. “Piff! This is Captain Kero we’re talking about! If there’s a way to get this settled without crossed swords, she’ll find it, her and Eldan both. Meanwhile, this is an army, they’re always beating on one another, and that means bruises and cuts. Likely, there’ll be at least one serious fight with a broken bone if we sit about for more than a fortnight. We’ll have hangovers, upset stomachs from overstuffing, all manner of minor troubles. There’s nothing better to practice on, m’dear, and if you botch it up a bit, there’s no serious consequences.” He grinned first at Keisha, then at his two colleagues. “We’ll take her on the rounds and let her use her Gift on ‘em with us as safety. She’ll get practice, we can use the time for some full exams, and that’ll keep every mother’s child in this mothering army up to strength. What do you say to that?”

  Nala looked dubious, but Gentian nodded. “Good idea. In fact, it would be a good idea for all the apprentices.” His grin, buried as it was in a bright red beard, was doubly infectious. “By the gods, we’ll spoil those soldiers, though! They’ll think this is how we should always treat ‘em!”

  Keisha flushed, her cheeks hot, and Nala gave her a penetrating look. “Have you something you’d like to say, Keisha?” The plump and motherly gray-haired woman looked more like someone’s grandmother than a Healer who’d followed armies literally all her life. She seemed to understand Keisha’s shyness, and how hard it was to volunteer information.

  “Just that - I do know some remedies you may not, mostly for common things - and they don’t all have to have - painless Healing.” She flushed even more, her cheeks so warm they were painful. “You want to discourage people from pretending to be sick, right? Or complaining of truly trivial problems? The medicines aren’t very pleasant, but they are very efficient.”

  All three Healers burst into delighted laughter, lessening her blushes. “She’ll do, she’ll do!” Gentian crowed. “Oh, yes, she’ll do!”

  “You’re sure you want to be here?” Kerowyn asked Keisha as they reached the outskirts of Errold’s Grove just after suppertime - a time chosen when everyone would be home from the fields.

  “They know me; you’re outsiders. They know I wouldn’t say anything that can be ignored. If I’m here while you tell them the bad news, they won’t be so inclined to try to pretend it isn’t true.” Keisha really didn’t want to be there, but she knew she had to be; among other things, she figured she might as well get the inevitable confrontation with her parents over and done with. They were going to want her to evacuate with the others, and obviously she couldn’t do that.

  “The best thing to do is to ring the bell in the square,” Keisha went on, thinking out loud. “If we ask Mayor Lutter to assemble everyone, he’ll try to find some way of putting it off - or worse, he’ll only assemble people he thinks are important.” She gave Kerowyn a helpless shrug. “He’s good enough at arranging Faires, but I wouldn’t trust him to make any decisions in a case like this, much less make the right ones. He’ll think first of how to keep his own status high and keep getting appointed Mayor, and not concentrate on anything useful. My guess is that he’s been keeping the fact that the barbarians were coming this way a secret. The only ones who probably know are the town council members.”

  Kero snorted and looked absolutely disgusted. “Politicians! Always butting in where leaders are needed! No fear, I know the type, and I can handle him easily enough.”

  Just ahead, people wandered the village paths in the late-evening sunlight. Some were women, gathering to trade gossip, some were young people, mostly couples, and children played in the yards as they rode in, Kerowyn on her Companion, and Nightwind and Keisha on dyheli. Kerowyn had changed back to her Whites - grudgingly, but Eldan had said severely that her authority as a Herald might be needed to get people to act instead of dithering. There would be no difficulty with riding back after darkness fell, since the dyheli and Kero’s Companion had excellent night-vision, and there was going to be a full moon.

  As soon as the children spotted Kero, they ran back to their houses, shouting with excitement. Gods, this is an awful lot of excitement for Errold’s Grove. People are going to be talking about this year for decades, Keisha mused, as folk began to gather beside the road, their faces full of expectation. “Maybe we won’t have to ring the bell, after all,” Keisha ventured, seeing the number of people appearing on their own.

  “Good; I want to alert people, not scare them witless.” Kero’s Companion Sayvil stopped, and Kero stood up in her stirrups. “Listen, people - I want everyone in Errold’s Grove assembled in the square, right now! You littles - yes, you and you and you - go to all the houses and fetch everybody.”

  The children she pointed to ran off, squealing with excitement at being given an important mission by a Herald. “The rest of you, follow us to the square, unless you know of someone the children won’t likely find.”

  Kero to
ok the lead, followed by Nightwind and Keisha and a parade of chattering, excited people. The noise alone will probably bring people out, Keisha thought, as the crowd behind grew larger with every step they took.

  The square had been cleaned out since the “reception” for Darian and the Hawkbrothers. How long ago was that? Just days, maybe a fortnight, but it seems like a year. There was nothing in the way of structures there at all, except the Hawkbrother bower near the Temple.

  “Don’t dismount,” said Kero, as their three mounts halted, with Kerowyn between Nightwind and Keisha. “We’ll use the height to our advantage. Anyone want to bet how long it takes for this Mayor of Keisha’s to appear, demanding that we go through him?”

  “He’s not my Mayor,” Keisha protested, and at that exact moment, Mayor Lutter appeared at the edge of the crowd, face red, shoving his way through to the center.

  “What’s going on here?” he demanded, as he came up to the nose of Kero’s Companion, Sayvil. “What’s the meaning of this?”

  Sayvil looked down her long nose at him, and deliberately sneezed wetly in his face. As he jumped back (as far as he could, given the crowd), wiping his face with his sleeve, Kero’s lips twitched. “The situation with the approaching barbarians the Hawkbrothers told you about has escalated, Mayor Lutter,” Kerowyn said, loudly enough to be heard clearly by at least a third of the crowd. “I’m here to give Crown orders for Errold’s Grove.”