Mari, used to her friend's random curiosity, considered the matter briefly before answering. "You grew up learning to do magic; I grew up learning how to run a household. As my mother pointed out to me long ago, you cannot get servants to do something properly unless you know how to do it yourself. That includes making beds, cooking dinner, sewing, and quite a lot of other things.
"What I wonder,” glancing around Ellen’s room, “is how you can have both such a messy room and such a tidy mind. But that isn't what I came to ask. Come visit us at Northkeep for Midwinter break. I can offer you my company, as much snow and mountain as you want, and a bath every day—the hot spring is inside the walls."
"A hot spring? Are there volcanoes? I've never seen one."
"One volcano, Fire Mountain; the pass goes by one side of it. But it's dead since long before I was born. An old man in the Keep told me that when he was a child he saw it erupt, but that must have been at least fifty years ago, probably more, assuming he wasn't just repeating a story he had heard. Still, you are welcome to investigate the volcano, as best you can without burning yourself up or freezing to death in the snow.
"And I expect my mother and father would enjoy meeting you. You might find meeting my father useful as well as interesting."
Ellen gave her a puzzled look. "Useful how?"
"Useful if you have to deal with the Prince, or Lord Iolen, or other powerful men. Kingdom politics is a complicated web; the more people you know the less power any one of them has over you. Speaking of which, I should warn you that the Prince will almost certainly be there too; I don't know what terms you and he are on at the moment. And Father asked me to invite Magister Coelus on his behalf, to help him and the Prince figure out what the Forsting mages have been up to all this time."
"It's tempting; let me think about it. Is Northpass Keep where you grew up?"
Mari shook her head. "I grew up in our lands, in the East. The Keep isn't ours; it belongs to His Majesty. Father just takes care of it for him."
"Why your father, and not …"
"One of the northern lords, such as Earl Eirick? You know the history of the succession troubles, that Anders was talking about the first time we met him?"
"Only the parts you have told me about; I don't think Northpass Keep came into that."
"During the troubles, Father kept as far from court as he could. Anders was right about that part, although I couldn't say so. Father got messages from both sides and ignored all of them. As it happened, the Castellan of Northpass was one of our people in the royal service. Father could see what was going to happen, so while the Princes and His Majesty feuded, he did everything he could to get Northpass Keep ready, spent money repairing the defenses, hired troops, recruited mages. When the Forstings decided we were close enough to a civil war for them to intervene they brought an army over the pass; the Keep refused to surrender so they laid siege to it. After a month they gave up and went home.
"His Majesty, who has more sense than his father did, decided it would be prudent to put that key to the kingdom in the hands of a lord more concerned with protecting Esland than trying to decide who was king. So Father tells His Majesty who he should appoint as Castellan and His Majesty appoints him; His Majesty pays the official garrison and supplies it, and Father provides whatever else he thinks the Keep needs.
"Anders is a fair sample of the Marcher lords. Prince Josep's wife, Iolen's mother, was from the north, and most of her kin supported Josep's claim. Nobody ever found out if the Forstings were coming in on their invitation, but His Majesty garrisons the Keep with his own people, not local levies."
An hour later, at dinner, the question of Northpass and the Forstings came up again, this time raised by Alys. "Isn't it terribly dangerous for you and your family to spend Break there? Everyone says there's going to be another war; if the Forstings invade you could end up trapped. And if they take the Keep … ."
Mari failed to react with appropriate horror.
"If they take the Keep, all sorts of terrible things could happen. But to take the Keep in midwinter they first have to learn to fly, which doesn't seem likely. That’s why our skirmishes are always in spring or summer; this time of year the pass is ten feet deep in snow and ice. It might be possible to get a few men on snowshoes over Northpass, but not an army. We'll be at least as safe in Northpass Keep as you will be in the capital, probably safer. After all, we have a garrison of loyal soldiers to protect us; you’re at the mercy of any passing footpad."
And with that, Mari turned back to her plate.
Chapter 24
"Where do you hide a salamander?"
Durilil, his head resting in his lover's lap, looked up at the face inverted above him, marveled again at his good fortune.
"Why would I want to hide a salamander?"
Melia shook her head.
"Not you. One of the few things we know about the Elementals is that nobody has found one. And if Olver is right … "
"Any decent fire mage should be able to see the thing from ten miles away. Yes."
He thought a moment.
"If I were hiding a salamander, I would hide it in the biggest fire I could find."
He reached up, caught her hand, brought it down to his lips.
Now he was back where the search had led, directly underneath him the trailing skirts of the Northfire, its heart barely ten miles away. From where he lay he could smell sulfur in the air. It was probably why Duke Morgen’s residence was on the other side of the keep from the hot spring, bath house, and spare guestrooms above it.
Why he was installed there was clear enough; Her Grace, intending him as a surprise for her daughter, wanted him out of sight until the proper time. One of the chests he had brought contained cut gemstones, sample pieces, drawings, paper and pens, everything needed to design the jewels for a royal wedding. Over the next few days, if all went according to Duchess Gianna's plans, the Prince would propose to Mari, Mari would accept, the two would inform her father, and Gianna and Mari would set about planning the details of the wedding. With a jeweler conveniently at hand.
Of course, it might also have occurred to Duchess Gianna that a man of Master Dur's age would be glad of a warm room in winter, despite a bit of sulfur in the air. If so, she was correct. Any room occupied by Master Dur and his luggage was going to be warm, with or without a hot spring underneath it. There was much to be said for a room that people expected to be warm.
Which brought him back to his reason for being there, which had nothing to do with jewelry. Having come this far, he felt an odd temptation to finish the matter once and for all, close the circle. It would be easy enough to put the Salamander back where he had found it, to make the choice the Mage King had made at a still more advanced age. He wondered how the imperturbable Duchess would react to finding an impossibly aged corpse in her guest room bed.
He put the idea firmly aside; he had not come here to die. Not, at least, if he could avoid it. What he planned would require returning the Salamander to the fire's heart, at least for a little while, but if all went well … . He could not possibly retrieve it from a distance of ten miles, so he had to go too, if not quite all the way to the fire. It had been a long time, but he thought he could still find the way. If, of course, it was still there.
It was dark outside. The servants, having brought his dinner and cleared away what he left of it were unlikely to come again. Still, it was best to be safe; Durilil spent several minutes making sure that anyone who came to his door would pass it by. The lid of one of the two traveling chests was warm to his touch. Inside was a leather bag; he put the carrying strap over his shoulder, felt the warmth of the box inside it against his side. That done he wrapped himself in his cloak—he was already dressed in his warmest clothes—and left the room.
* * *
All Johan could see, looking out the postern gate, was snow, lit by the lantern hanging above him. With twenty or thirty miles of snow between Northkeep and the nearest Forstings, it was no
t entirely clear to Johan why the gate needed guarding. But he knew his duty. At least he could guard the lantern.
Suddenly, the lantern went out. Surely he had filled it before dark; perhaps a gust of wind had somehow gotten through the horn panes. He untied the lantern rope, let it run up through the pulley as the lantern lowered. He unhooked it. The guardroom fire was an entirely illicit charcoal brazier his superior officer, having stood watch himself in past winters, scrupulously failed to notice. It would do to reignite the lantern.
The brazier too was out, its charcoal ash. Laurens must have forgotten to fill it on his watch earlier that evening. Odd. It had been going well enough just a while ago. Johan had warmed his hands over it. There was more charcoal in the corner, a bundle of kindling, flint and steel and tinder in his pouch. In a few minutes the charcoal was again beginning to glow, the lantern relit, Johan again at his post.
Looking back out of the night, Durilil could see the lantern and make out the figure of the guard; the guard, his eyes blinded by the lantern's light, saw nothing but snow.
An hour's walk brought him around the wall and a mile or so towards the pass. The road was bordered by evergreens; Durilil took shelter under one of them to rest. Master Dur was in good shape for his age, but miles of walking, uphill through snow, was not a task for an old man. The box in its leather bag was almost too hot to touch; he let his hand rest on it, fire pouring up through his body.
Some hours later, where the road bent left to find its way through an old lava flow, he stopped, stood for some minutes wrapped in his cloak, eyes closed. Still there, but blocked. He turned off the road, scrambled along the edge of the lava, uphill through the snow. Arrived at his destination he let his mind sink into the stone, felt for fire, found it. Unlimited fire, and nobody within miles to see. For once… .
He pointed with his right hand, the other resting on the rune that was the lid of the box; water ran steaming away. Where there had been a bank of unmarked snow was now bare rock, the cave mouth showing clear. The first few feet were half choked with dirt and broken rock where part of the roof had fallen in. His mind filled with fire, he pointed again.
No. Carefully, strand by strand, the mage pulled his mind free from what he carried. Turning broken rock molten might clear the cave, but while the Salamander could take no harm, his own body was flesh and blood. Hands might be slower, but a great deal safer.
It took him an hour to open a sufficient space to crawl through. Once past the rock fall, the tunnel, a vent formed long ago by hot gases through molten lava, was high enough for him to stand. Half an hour more brought him to the chamber at the tunnel's end. He folded up his cloak, lay down at full length upon it, the Salamander's box resting on his chest. The floor was warm, but not as hot as he remembered. Eyes closed, he felt through rock.
The fire at the mountain's heart had cooled a little in fifty years, the crust that roofed it thicker than he remembered. It took a moment to realize that what he was looking for, the work of the Forsting mages, would be found not at the top but the side, where the road through the pass ran by the flank of the mountain. The mages themselves he could barely make out through the greater flame, but their workings were clear enough. The pattern bright in his mind, Durilil reached up, undid the catch, slid open the lid of the box.
Chapter 25
From where they stood on the parapet, the flattened cone of Fire Mountain was outlined against the evening sky. The wind off the mountains was cold; Mari let the Prince draw her into the shelter of his heavy cloak. When he spoke it was with less than his usual assurance.
"Will you marry me?"
Mari stiffened against his arm. "Perhaps. You and Father have agreed on your terms; I have yet to set mine."
"What are they?"
"Nan was a good and gentle lady. But I do not think that in all the years you were together she ever said no to anything you asked."
"And you?"
"And I am not Nan. If we wed I will deal with you honestly, serve King and Kingdom as best I am able. But merge my will in yours, no. If I believe you are mistaken I will say so, and I will act as I think right, with your leave or without it."
"You drive a hard bargain, lady mine. I could name three or four maidens of rank who would have me with no such conditions."
"If you would rather wed one of them … ."
"I think not. I know both sides of my bargain with your father; if I accept your terms, what do you offer in exchange?"
"Besides my person? You have not declared your love; are you inquiring as to mine?"
"If I say that I love you more than sun and moon and stars, will that suffice?"
"Too much and not enough. No."
"So far as the charms of your person, you are certainly the most desirable lady I know, but I do not think that is the question you are asking."
Mari said nothing, waited.
"You are the only lady I would be willing to have to wife on the terms you offer. I accept them. Does that suffice?"
"And does your son …?"
"Agree? Yes. I asked him before I made my final decision."
"That was well done. Then to answer your question, if I had my choice out of all men alive there is none I would rather wed."
The two fell silent, Mari held in the Prince’s embrace. After a long minute she pulled free. “That’s impossible.”
“That you should permit me to kiss you?”
She shook her head. “Listen.”
He listened. A moment later he moved to the rampart’s edge; looked down. The ground below was dark. “It sounds like running water.”
Mari nodded. “It sounds like the stream out of the pass when the snow melts in spring, but even louder.” Before she had finished speaking the Prince was at the stairs leading down from off the rampart; she followed him.
By the time they reached the Great Hall it was clear that they were not the only ones to have noticed. Duke Morgen was already there; a moment later Bertil, the Castellan, joined him. Morgen gave him an enquiring look.
“The stream is running, and running fast,” Bertil said. “Not hot, but warmer than any water outside the hot springs has any cause to be this time of year.”
Morgen thought for only a minute before he started giving orders: “I need four messengers, two to His Majesty, two to the Earls. Now. I also want Magister Coelus brought here as quickly as possible.”
He saw the Prince, motioned him over. “The streambed down from the pass is running full; I think I know what the Forsting mages have been doing for the past year. With luck Coelus can give us at least a guess at how they are doing it.”
“You think they are using magic to melt the pass clear? There aren’t enough fire mages alive.”
Mari broke into the conversation. “Can’t fire mages channel fire as well as making it?”
The Prince nodded, his expression shifted. “You are saying that …”
“The hot springs. There is a reason it’s called Fire Mountain. I expect there is enough fire under it to melt clear a hundred passes.”
“And the mages don’t have to make it, just channel it. It must still have been a massive undertaking.”
Duke Morgen turned back to them. “They’ve had most of a year to do it in. Do we have any idea how soon we can expect to see a Forsting army coming through the pass?”
The Prince shook his head. “Ask Coelus. Here he comes now.”
By the time Morgen and the Prince had finished explaining the situation to Coelus, the Castellan had returned with four of his men. Morgen turned back to them.
“It looks as though the Forstings have found a way of clearing the pass in winter and are about to descend on us in force; I must get word to His Majesty. They are obviously planning to cross the pass and take this castle before any help can arrive. One way of making sure they succeed is to ambush any messengers we send; they may have gotten a few men across already, and there may be people in place here to help them.
“I want two of you
to leave tonight, separately, each carrying letters to His Majesty. Assume anyone you meet might be an enemy. Get as far as you can from here by dawn, get to the capital as fast as you can. I’m giving you courier chits to get you remounts at the stations, but don’t use them until you are well out of the Marches; at that point I think it will be safe to assume that the people at the stations can be trusted. The other two are going to the Earls to warn them.”
The Prince broke in. “Are you asking them for troops for the garrison?”
Morgen shook his head. “Not yet. For one thing, I want to see if the mages we lent Frederik a week ago come back.” He turned back to the four men. “You know yourselves better than I do; you and Lord Bertil can decide who does what. How soon can you be packed, mounted and ready to go?”
“Half an hour, Your Grace.”
“Meet me then by the front gate; I’ll have the letters.”
He turned back to Coelus. “Do you agree with His Highness about what is happening?”
Coelus nodded. “I expect they used a lot of static spells, set up over the past year. Probably started at the north end of the pass. If the melt water is coming south, the melting must be this side of the crest of the pass by now. Exactly how they are doing it and how long it will take I don’t know, but we may be able to learn more.”
“So if you are right, we will be blocked from the pass until the last moment, when they melt through the snow at this end, by which time they will probably have troops already filling the pass. Can they use the same heat against us—roast us in the keep?”
Coelus shook his head. “A disturbing thought, but I doubt it. Even if the magma layer under the mountain extends this far—as for all I know it does—they don’t have the spells set up to use it. The snow they are melting where they do have spells is just above the fire they are melting it with; we’re miles away. It might be worth figuring out how they are doing it so we can set up spells here and try to roast them next time, but I doubt it will help just now.”
Salamander Page 20