From his high seat on his horse, Kovat the Slayer stared down at me. Across his bulging chest muscles were rows of metal discs reflecting the sun, while bands of gold circled his powerful arms. None of the luster of his armor equaled his eyes, pale water-blue points of light. His ears and nose were missing bits. His face was so twisted by slashes of old scar tissue, it was impossible to know what he must once have looked like.
That he could remove my head from my shoulders as easily as Nance could remove jewels from my hair was clear. I fought to keep my face an unreadable mask while fear caused a river of perspiration to run down between my shoulder blades.
When the crowd quit chanting, Nance said, “The Daughter of the Sun and her consort guide and protect their own."
Raising my hands slowly in the motions drilled into me by Nance, I repeated the greeting. When I finished, the silence hung above the hills and the thousands of inhabitants. Not even the wind dared snap a fluttering banner.
Kovat the Slayer raised his sword, releasing the people from their invisible bonds and all I could think was, Arnold couldn't have been more dramatic. The horses pawed and snorted, the armor of the warriors clattered, and as the villagers moved back from the path's edge, the warlord and his army continued up the dusty road toward the castle.
After they passed, Nance led our parade on a winding path between the huts, circling the hill in a long procession before we returned to the temple. The guards opened the temple gates. Nance and I entered, turned, raised our hands in a sign of blessing, and then stood silently until the guards pulled the gates closed. Nance slid the bolt into place.
"So now you have seen him and survived,” she whispered. She grabbed my hand and ran with me across the yard and through the temple and down the corridor to our rooms, then outside again to our small private courtyard. We both collapsed on the bench outside the door. “What do you think of Kovat the Slayer?"
"Son of a bitch."
Not much of an answer but my brain was shorting out.
"I wonder what he thought of you."
"I'm alive, if that means anything."
"It means he enjoyed victory and was feeling kindly toward all of us."
And what would he do on his return from a defeat, I wondered, and then suspected it was something I really did not want to know. Or was I jumping way past unfair? Was I equating ugly with mean, and if so, dumb me. The Decko boys, both con man and wizard, were lookers, tall, personal-trainer trim, good bones, wavy hair, expensive teeth, straightened. capped and whitened. Despite the pretty, those boys were mean to the core.
Maybe the way everyone reacted to Kovat the Slayer was a better clue.
That night Kovat sent for me.
Stiff-faced guards rapped on our gate and brought the message, then waited at attention outside the courtyard wall so they could usher me to their ruler's presence.
After a tearful, frightened Nance had dressed me once again in robes and jewels and paint and powder, she hugged me and whispered, “I wish I could go with you, but I dare not, as he did not ask for me. Be careful what you say to him. Behave with the manners of a slave and the wisdom of a god."
The road from the temple to the castle wound beneath the wide, star-filled sky, my familiar. It did assure me I was not in some other universe or even some other time or location because the constellations and the planets were exactly where I knew they should be in the northwest sky. Plus, they were a good deal easier to see here against clear black, than in the brightly lit city sky.
As I walked toward the castle, preceded and followed by guards, my mind drew my own horoscope and surrounded it with tonight's placements of the planets. Venus protected the First House of Self while Mars formed an unpleasant aspect with my future. And that meant?
Okay, I am good at reading other people's horoscopes, bad at reading my own.
The castle of Kovat, stone walls clumsily erected and clumped together to form a number of bare, square rooms, was similar to the temple but much older. In an odd way it was typically northwest, an on-going remodel with new wings stuck any which way and corridors and floor levels not always matching.
We entered through a courtyard and a wide doorway, then walked along a corridor lined with closed wood doors and a guard by almost every door. The guards’ eyes moved, following us, but they stood silent in their heavy leather vests laced over wool tunics. Sheathed swords hung from their belts. A few servants hurried by, heads bowed, carrying trays.
The stale air smelled of cooking and animal skins and ashes and unwashed humans.
A large scruffy dog stretched across one doorway, raised his head to look at me, before settling his chin on his paws. At a recessed archway the guards were met by more guards who announced my presence, then stood back. Guess I had no choice except to enter alone. From their expressions it was obvious they didn't plan to accompany me further.
Standing in the opening, I briefly glanced about the room in front of me, moving only my eyes beneath the shadow of my lashes. I have long, thick dark lashes, and I learned young that if I hold my lids half-closed, people don't see my eyes move. The room was somewhat larger than the others but almost as bare, with a long food-laden table at one side and piles of sheepskins in the corners. By the dim light of wall sconces I could see the upper walls were decorated with the painted likenesses of animals and warriors.
Kovat the Slayer sat on a fur draped chair in the center of the room. His chair was placed on a platform, probably so he could look down on those who stood before him. Behind him on the platform stood Tarvik, dressed in a fur-trimmed tunic and thigh-high boots, and to either side stood two guards. With a slight nod, Kovat dismissed the guards.
They walked past me, their faces rigid, as though they believed that if they glanced at me, even with their backs to their ruler, he would know and be cranky. You don't want cranky in somebody called the Slayer.
Although the room was undecorated, Kovat was not. Gold ornaments circled his arms and hung from his ears and around his thick neck. His tunic was made of a black fur that looked as soft and supple as velvet and his leather boots were dyed dark red and oiled to a glow. A band of gold set with jewels rested on his yellow hair. His hair was thick and of the same color and texture as Tarvik's hair, and his head was the same shape, but because of the scars, I could not guess what his face had once been.
I met his stare, dared not blink, and didn't like his expression at all.
His voice, a scratched roar as though strained by constant shouting, echoed against the walls. “Who are you?"
I repeated my memorized lines. “I am the keeper of the temple of the Daughter of the Sun."
He waved impatiently. “I know who Nance and Tarvik say you are. Now I ask you once more only. Who are you?"
My mind blinked at the question. Did he mean that if my answer displeased him, I was dead meat? At such times, I think, the truth is the only chance worth taking.
"I come from the same people as the Daughter and her consort."
The silence left me a moment to imagine death's shadow melting my spine and turning my blood to sand. Terror flooded Tarvik's face. Well, shucks, he hadn't coached me about what to say.
Kovat the Slayer stared through my eyes to my very thoughts. He hissed, “If this be so, what magic do you possess?"
Magic? What magic had the Daughter possessed? Why had he spared her? Looking at him was enough to tell me he did nothing by whim.
Okay, the safety of Nance hung beside mine in this spider's web. Better come up with an answer that would intrigue him.
"I study the stars and from their messages can see the future."
His thick eyebrows drew together in a scowl. “You study the stars? What does that mean?"
"I chart their travels in the night sky and see in them what will come to be."
He grunted. “The magicians of Thunder see the future in fire. They are often wrong."
To argue with him the accuracy of the priests of Thunder would be to play a futile
game of words and wits. Wouldn't go there, hadn't a clue about the extent of their abilities. All I could do was hope his curiosity about my claim to magic would keep me alive until he gave me a chance to read his stars. Then he would have to wait for the predictions to prove out. Or not. In such a case, I rather thought I should predict a major event in the very, very distant future.
Elbow on knee, he leaned his chin on his upraised fist and glared at me.
"Tell me this, woman. Will my next raid on the followers of Thunder bring me victory?"
"Give me the moment of your birth and a day to work my calculations, and I will give you an answer."
Did a smile almost raise the edges of that hard mouth? In his eyes something close to amusement flickered, as though he saw me as a new challenge.
"I was born at midday, twenty days past the Day of Equals, thirty-nine years ago come next spring."
So his Sun was at the mid-heaven in the constellation of Aries. No surprise there. Only his age surprised me. From his scarred and wrinkled countenance I should have thought him much older. Still, knowing he was born under the sign of Aries warned me how to speak to him. Children of this fire sign are new souls, strong-willed and often rash, sometimes too trusting. He looked willful and daring, but trusting?
Midheaven. Right. Driven to succeed on one side, superstitious as hell on the other. I'd try the ambition thing first.
"Your stars signify power and bravery,” I said.
"Do they?” His lips curled back from his broken teeth. “My son was born halfway between the midday and the eventide, one moon and seven days past the Longest Day, nineteen years ago. Tell me what I may expect of him, you who know everything."
So the little beggar hadn't lied to me about his age. Yah, he looked nineteen but sometimes he acted more like nine. With no time to draw Tarvik's chart or place the planets within it, all I knew was that his birth sun was in the constellation of Leo which is also ruled by the sun, a glaring place at midafternoon. The placement seemed familiar. Oh, I thought, the moon in my own birth chart was at almost the same degree.
Maybe I could never remember where I put the car keys, but I had an exceptional memory of the approximate placement of the slower planets for many years past. The placement of the sun or moon or planets in a constellation depends on the day of birth. The placement of the House cusps depends on the hour. Knowing the minute is even better, but not too dependable in our society where approximate birth times are the norm on records.
Ah. If I remembered correctly, Saturn was in Scorpio in Tarvik's birth chart and from there it did a rotten aspect on his sun.
I said, “His constellation is Leo, the second fire constellation. He must journey through shadows alone."
And he won't like that, I thought, because a Leo is a person who likes company.
"What is a constellation?"
"A pattern of stars in the sky."
"Draw it for me,” he said.
Okay. Right. Sure. And how do I do that? I had no idea how this man reacted to questions and was trying to think of what to say when Tarvik moved past his father's chair and held out his hand to me. I almost reached out because wow, did I ever need a hand to hold, and then I saw that he held something that looked like a bit of charcoal.
So much for dignity. If taking a pebble out of my shoe was not allowed, was it okay to draw on the floor and what other choice did I have? Should I draw a lion? Or should I draw the star formation? I made a quick guess that people who lived so far from electric lights probably had more first hand knowledge of the night sky than I did and so I drew the pattern of the stars on the stone floor.
Kovat stared at the scattered dots.
"That's the Warrior,” he said.
A sword-carrying, hand-holding warrior, yes, that was Tarvik.
I also should have guessed that these people would have their own names for the constellations. If I lived through tonight, I would have to drag Nance out into the courtyard to identify the constellations and planets for me and tell me her names for them.
"You speak like the magicians, girl. Empty words of many meanings or none at all."
"I don't know your history, so I don't know the direction of Tarvik's journey. Give me time to place more of the stars in his chart, maybe learn more about your country, and then I can tell you about your son's future."
Kovat rose slowly from his chair and stepped down from the platform. It was the first time I had seen him standing. He was the same height and nearly the same build as Tarvik but with bulkier muscles and a thicker body. Even his hands were the same square shape. Scars covered his bare limbs and one arm was oddly bent, as though it had been badly broken and poorly healed. Had he once been a handsome boy and what had he done with his life to fill his face and form with so much distortion?
The smell of his unwashed body so close to me was a bummer. His eyes, on a level with mine, stared intently. I tried not to let a muscle twitch to give away my thoughts. One thick jeweled hand rose and reached toward my face, then dropped, and I saw in his face a darting memory.
"She drew me back from death,” he said.
The Daughter? I'd kind of guessed she must have had some sort of medicine in her backpack. What would a camper carry? Maybe she had a prescription with her for herself, probably antibiotics, and she made a lucky guess? Because she sure as hell wouldn't have been Doctors Without Borders, hiking with a complete doctor's bag, not on the Olympic peninsula.
He said, “Tomorrow you will come back and give me answers to all the questions I ask. If the Daughter of the Sun guides you, you will know the correct answers."
And if I did not?
Tarvik must have shared my doubt. He said softly, “My father, no one can know all the answers to all questions. Even the gods must be puzzled sometimes."
"You think me unfair?” Kovat roared, spinning around on his heel to face his son.
To Tarvik's credit, and so far I had seen little of him that I thought merited credit, Tarvik didn't turn away. He stared in silence at his father, not blinking.
Kovat glared back at him. “No one can say Kovat is unfair, even to his enemies. On this journey's return I have brought with me a magician of the followers of Thunder, one of their mad priests. Tomorrow I shall bring him and this—this—” He turned to me and waved his hand toward me and snapped, “Have you a name?"
"I am called Stargazer."
"Stargazer. Tomorrow you and the mad magician will stand before me and I will give questions about things neither of you know. Let him consult his false god while you study your stars. We shall see who outguesses who.” To Tarvik he muttered, “There, princeling, is that fair enough for you?"
Tarvik nodded. It did seem to me they might have included me in the decision making, and had I been alone with Tarvik I would have told him so, loudly, but in the presence of Kovat I did not even twitch an eyelid.
Kovat marched out of the room, leaving me alone to turn and meet Tarvik's look.
He said softly, “Do you possess the same magic as the Daughter?"
"I never knew the Daughter."
"I remember her,” he said. “She knew magic."
He stepped down from the raised platform and walked over to me, then slowly circled me, looking up and down in a way that made me rather uncomfortable. It was one thing to have him staring open-mouthed in the temple, where he would do nothing more than stare. It was another here, where who knew what he had on his mind.
"Who winds it up like that?” he asked, reaching out and touching my hair. The guy really was full of surprises.
"Nance, of course."
"Yes, and so added to your lack of skill at cooking, you also cannot dress your hair."
As there was no way to answer that comment without starting an argument, and raised voices in the castle with Kovat the Slayer present seemed unwise, I said nothing.
"Then we must hope that you are clever at this telling fortunes from the stars, because my father has set great weight on it."
I returned to the temple, once again with guards in front and behind me, feeling terribly conspicuous dressed in long robes and jewels, walking down the starlit path. There were a few other guards standing around, and servants and slaves hurrying by, usually with their hands filled with bundles or trays, but if they looked at me, they did it quickly and secretly.
Nance waited, her fingers twisting nervously, a foot tapping with impatience. I reported the meeting to her while she removed the ornaments from my hair, helped me out of my robes, brushed them down and hung them away. Then I asked her for pen and paper.
She answered with a blank stare.
Ah. These people did not read or write. They had no paper, no pencils, nothing to use to draw horoscopes.
"The walls,” I said finally, thinking of the paintings, “how are those drawings done?"
"With paint or charcoal. I have neither."
Only later, after I had finally calmed Nance and sent her to bed, did I consider Tarvik and decide he might mean well, but he couldn't save my neck. I had to do that myself. With only a table top and Nance's face colors as tools, I drew a horoscope for scary old Kovat. Next, I went out into the courtyard and picked up pebbles until I had a handful. I brought them back inside and dabbed them with colors from Nance's small pots of face paint so each one represented a planet.
And there I was, reading a warlord's life and my own survival in the glitter of face paint and a handful of pebbles.
After long hours spent stretching my mind to recall the memorized positions of the slower planets in the sky for the day of Kovat's birth, information I would have found in an ephemeris if I were home, I lay my head in my arms and closed my eyes. My memory of planet positions had always been exceptional but seldom burdened to this extent. If Tarvik's gods were watching, I hoped they would give me a little guidance.
I could place the slower planets, Pluto, Neptune, Uranus, Saturn, who spend several years in each of the constellations.
Tarbaby Trouble [Mudflat 1] Page 8