I hoped he was right and a victorious Kovat, rather than a murdering Erlan, would return.
"Kovat did ask me to look at the stars of his brother's family. He suspected them. So maybe he was careful around his brother,” I said.
"But would he suspect poison?” Nance asked.
We learned the answer to that question a few days later when our watchers spotted the tattered remains of an army approaching. They raced back, slid off their exhausted horses, and collapsed at Tarvik's feet. We waited until one of them could breathe enough to speak.
"They bear no banners, but we could see them well enough,” the scout reported. “We were above them on a cliff when they made the turning down river. It was Erlan in the lead."
"And my father?"
"We searched. We could not see him. It is Kovat's horse that Erlan rides."
"And our army?"
The scout looked almost afraid to answer, not afraid of Tarvik but afraid of what he had seen and what it meant. “We saw none of our own warriors. It is Erlan's men, less one in four perhaps, but well armed."
"Do you think we can hold the castle against them?” Tarvik asked.
The scout bowed. “For a few days. I would willingly die in battle to serve you, prince, as would all the guard."
Tarvik hesitated, still believing that somewhere, somehow, his father was alive. I watched, unable to offer advice. The furies that drove the barbarians’ minds didn't make sense to me, but I was the newcomer, didn't have any good ideas. If proof came that his father was dead, I guessed Tarvik would burn with the desire to slash his name and rule across the mountains, a fitting heir to Kovat the Slayer.
However, in these past weeks he had watched his people drag their small caches of belongings from their tumbledown huts, clutched in protective arms by their owners as though they were the temple jewels. The clothes they wore, a cooking pot, and a couple of matted sheepskins made up the entire possessions of most families. They wrapped their pottery communal cups for the journey as carefully as they wrapped their children's feet against the snow.
"The castle doesn't matter,” Tarvik decided. “We must lead the people to safety and then stay with them to protect them, in case Erlan follows."
Would Kovat have done that? To Kovat every man, woman, child was a possession to be used. He never shared his captured wealth with them. If their lives stood between him and fame, guess which Kovat would choose. For the first time, I respected Tarvik.
The barrows led the procession, pulled by workmen, their wooden wheels creaking under the weight of all the stuff from the storerooms, food, oil, candles, bedding. Stripped away also was anything Erlan would want to plunder, metals, jewels and tapestries from both temple and castle.
They wound down the hill and followed the valley route. Beyond the second row of hills, the barrows would head west, following ancient paths through the woods until they reached the safer valleys. A safe valley, I got told, was one with only a couple of narrow entrances. Those could be defended against an army by a very few guards.
Behind the barrows the families massed and separated among their livestock, the stronger ones carrying lumpy packs of belongings on their shoulders, while the children flapped their ragged hems at the goats to keep them moving. Others carried sacks that jerked in their hands and barely muffled the dismayed squeaks of the chickens. Although the ground was frozen beneath the snow tracings, it smashed apart under foot and hoof, leaving a trail of mud.
Nance, Tarvik and I rode on horses, our hoods pulled forward to protect our faces from blasts of winter wind. Guards and servants walked around us. At the rear of the line, mounted guards tried to sweep away with leafless branches the tracks of our direction.
We had gone only a short distance when, looking back, we could see clearly what Erlan would see. The trail could not be hidden. Mud oozed up through the brushed snow.
"He will follow,” Tarvik said. “If the Daughter herself appeared on the hilltops and shook her fist, Erlan would not stop. We can no more hide in the valley than we can defend the city."
He said more, muttered complaints, but I ceased to listen. What he said was true, I knew, but was he completely right? The horoscopes spun through my memory, those of Tarvik and Kovat and Erlan, and then I saw my own horoscope in my mind. I had never been much good at reading it. Still, it was worth a look. And there it was, Mercury, aspecting that degree in my chart that linked deception and strength.
If the planets denied victory to those other charts, they dared my fate to outwit evil.
Shivering behind the almost-closed gate, I had peered through the narrow slit as the sun set over the western hills night after night, to better place Mars and Venus, now traveling near the sun and not visible until early dark. I couldn't see Mercury but I had it memorized for the year.
Now it hit me that what I saw in the sun's setting, besides planet locations, would be of greater value to me than any chart. An idea uncoiled in my mind, a mixture of sunset and the comment Tarvik made carelessly about the Daughter appearing on the hilltop and shaking her fist.
When Tarvik rode away from us to direct the guard, I shouted at Nance. I should have nudged Black toward her. But I had made an agreement with the horse that if it did not try to buck me off, I would sit quietly and let it choose its own direction.
When Nance heard me, she turned and rode back to me.
"What is it?"
"No point going with them,” I said. “Tarvik is right, Erlan will follow and murder us all."
"What else can we do?” she asked.
"Nance, if we're probably going to die, anyway, will you trust me now with a plan that might save the rest of them?"
If we had been in the temple, Nance would have wailed her dismay. As it was, she bit her lip and nodded.
"Find Lor,” I said, knowing he would be walking near her.
While she circled away to search for him, I pulled on the reins, said the “whoa” thing, and was surprised when Black kindly stopped.
We stood as an island. The marching guards washed around us. When a mounted guard called to ask if I needed help, I waved him on. With the responsibility of the people, flocks, and possessions on their minds, the last guards passed me with no more than a glance.
They had traveled some way past when Tarvik whirled his horse and raced back to me. Since I had last seen him, he had picked up the old dog and lifted it on to his horse. It was in front of Tarvik, stretched like a worn rug across the base of Banner's neck.
"You will delay us, Stargazer,” he complained.
"Go on without me, Tarvik. Nance and Lor and I need to return to the temple."
"You have left something behind? I will send a servant for it."
"No, not that. Tarvik, you are right. Erlan can track you easily in this wretched mud. He's bound to follow to get the supplies. Maybe I have a trick to persuade him to stop."
Tarvik squinted out at me from the shadow of his hood. The winter sky reflected in his blue eyes. “What do you plan?"
"It's too complicated to explain. I'll tell you later. Go on now and we'll follow soon."
The muscles of his jaw hardened. He caught my wrist. “No, if anyone remains to face Erlan, it must be me and my guards."
"We've had this conversation. No way can you outfight his army. You'll all end up dead."
"And what will keep him from killing you?"
Unless I could come up with a convincing sales pitch, he would halt the procession. The brat refused to drop his gaze from mine or loosen his grasp. I needed something outside his understanding and within the boundaries of his superstition to keep him moving. I knew only one word to do that.
"Magic,” I said. “I have magic that will defeat Erlan. I wish I could keep you here to help, but if you remain, so will your guards. Erlan has to find the city deserted or the magic won't work."
Tarvik's strong hand slid to cover mine, his grip crushing my fingers. For a moment I thought he would pull me off my horse. Tarvik's lower l
ip jutted out.
At last he said softly, “Have your way, Stargazer. I know my father believes in your magic. Besides, you aren't going to listen to me, are you?"
He wheeled off, dashing after the guards on his horse. Its hooves cut moons in the mud path. I wished I could leave as emphatically, in case he glanced back at me. But no matter how I pulled on Black's reins, the horse would not turn. I crossed my wrists on the back of its neck and leaned my forehead against them, unable to go in any direction until Nance and Lor returned to guide the stupid beast.
It did occur to me that despite my education, I lacked the simple skills required to be an effective barbarian.
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Chapter 17
Two long, ice-edged days after Nance and Lor left me, at my insistence, I still had no idea how I was going to handle my part of the plan.
They had not wanted to leave me alone but we could think of no other way to outwit Erlan. The three of us worked for a day raking snow across the mud, then carefully broke tree limbs to imitate storm damage while hiding any signs of the retreat. If Erlan's scouts searched beyond the near woods, they would pick up the trail, so it was up to me to stop them at the castle's edge.
The temple, stripped of its altar cloths, jewels, robes, dishes, and other ornaments, was as cold as the inside of a refrigerator. Heavy hanging lamps remained in the ceiling but I would need their candles when Erlan arrived. So I lived in the dark.
Each evening I built a small fire in the courtyard and huddled beside it, allowing myself one fire a day so I could heat my supper. Most of the city's firewood and candles were gone, carried off to the valley hiding place. My fire consisted of branches torn from the dark thicket near the castle.
To mutilate the castle shrubbery probably carried a penalty of death by freezing in a cell, but as there was no one to accuse me, and I might soon freeze anyway, I slashed and burned.
If Kovat, rather than Erlan, came stamping into the courtyard to howl at me about damaged trees, I would be pleased and grateful to see him alive. There was the possibility he and his warriors traveled a half-day behind Erlan's army and had simply not been seen by the scouts. If so, I would probably even grovel a little and then point out to Kovat that my intentions were to protect his boy from truly unloving relatives.
But as I had little faith and less hope, I concentrated on what had to be done.
Sitting by the fire with my cup and bowl, I went over and over our plans. When my head ached with thinking, I drifted off to pleasanter memories, camping on the plateau with Nance, telling stories by the fire with Tarvik. Eating in wildly expensive restaurants with Darryl.
Okay, that memory wasn't so good, because it ended with me hiding behind a dumpster. Forget that and think about hot showers, coffee, and deli-food heated in the microwave.
Was Tarvik right? Did Erlan believe in lifedrainers? Too late now to change plans. If we guessed wrong, forget my horoscope, ignore the long lifeline circling around my thumb. Signs of natural life spans were no protection from violence.
Worse, suppose Erlan's route crossed with Ober and Alakar as they traveled homeward? The scout hadn't mentioned her, but Ober might now be doubling back with Erlan's army. I could outwit stupid, superstitious Erlan. But I'd had a try at outwitting Ober. It was not easy and not completely successful. Would she pay any price to get even with me, take any chance? Kinda thought she would.
Was Nance right? Was Ober a sorcerer? And what the hell powers did a sorcerer have? I'd met my share of mages and there were never two alike. Actually, the thought was somewhat consoling. Out in the big bad world there was only one Ober.
When my fire burned to embers, I wrapped myself in my cloak and sheepskin and slept at the fire's edge. The courtyard was no colder than the empty rooms of the temple, and far less frightening. Here I could see the clear winter sky, the familiar constellations sparkling like frost.
Venus dazzled. Its aspect offered some protection in Tarvik's chart. Would that it did the same for me. Okay, if I had the choice, this time I'd give Tarvik the luck because he really needed it. All I had on my side now was Mercury, a brief reflection in the sunset before it flickered out below the horizon, a reflection in my mind more than in my vision because I knew where it was even if I couldn't see it. Mercury made no promises at all.
And each day Erlan's army moved closer to the deserted city and me.
Sometimes I almost longed for a horse to ride. Maybe if my life depended on it, I could mount the damn thing and manage to make the right sounds and tugs on its reins to send it racing across the hills, carrying us both in the opposite direction from the destiny that marched toward me.
However, Lor had taken Black so he and Nance could travel fast.
With no reason to squeeze through the opening to the stable to keep my whereabouts secret, I walked freely around the outside of the temple and castle, leaving the gates and doors open. I wandered through the castle, idly noting the corridors and courtyards, peering into the banquet room with its long tables and benches and the scenes of Kovat's past victories painted on the walls.
A sound sent me into panic. Scraping. Foot dragging? I flattened against a door and tried to breathe.
My heart banged away so loudly anyone could hear it.
Listen. Hold my breath and listen.
Spreading my fingers against cold stone, I slid slowly to the edge of the recessed doorway, leaned out, looked up and down the corridor. Did a shadow move? Maybe not.
Then I heard it again, a low scrape, from the direction of the wide double doors that opened into the castle on an entry to make the base of a T-shape with the corridor. Big front entrance, not used much, lit the nights of banquets with banks of candles. I'd left those doors pushed open, back against the inner walls, so I could wander and get as much light from outside as possible. Dumb idea, maybe, because if it made entering easier for me, it did the same for whoever was slowly shuffling toward me.
And me without so much as my Swiss pocketknife that Tarvik took and never gave back. Daggers, swords, arrows, used to be lots of them hanging on the walls. Everything had been packed up and taken away and why hadn't I thought to ask for a club or a scary looking knife?
Scrape, slide, thought I'd pass out
Then the sound turned to fluttering. A tumble of dry leaves blew through the open doors and past the corner and now I could see them, dry leaves, just stupid dry leaves stirred and pushed by a draft. I was some weird kind of Superwoman, out to save the city and terrified by dry leaves.
I stumbled on down the hall, away from the entry.
The old dog no longer lay outside its usual door. Could have used him, not that he'd be much use, but I could have maybe yelled, “Killer dog here so get out before I let him loose!"
I opened that door, the one the watchdog used to watch, and wandered into another poorly ventilated room. Like all the rooms, it was empty, but chiseled into one stone wall was the outline of a crown. It was touched up with bits of flaking paint, faded on the gray stone. An odd decoration, perhaps someone's attempt to make the place more pleasant. Ah. This must be Kovat's chamber, and was it he or some long ago warlord who marked it forever as the chamber of the ruler? I wandered back out and truly wished the old dog was still there in the doorway. He would have been no protection and had never been much company that I'd been able to see, but this night I would have welcomed a sleepy nod.
I even looked into the room previously used by Alakar and Ober. Now it was bare, nothing but cold stone and a long heavy wooden table, not even a woven tapestry to steal. Tarvik had replaced the missing stone that opened the wall to Ober's room, and had closed his own secret door before he allowed the servants to enter and remove the wall rugs. If he did not return to the castle, the passageway would remain secret forever.
A scent of perfumed oils hung in the stale air. Heavy, sweet, it was something the barbarians valued. The women rubbed the oils in their hair and on their skin to mask the ever-present odors
of animals and sweat. When I closed my eyes, I could see Ober and Alakar, their hair gleaming in the candlelight, long thick braids shiny with oil.
I walked slowly around the room, following the scent until I reached the table. Leaning down to it, I could smell the perfume in the rough wood and I remembered Ober standing at the table drawing odd signs and mixing liquids in small bowls and vials. I had watched the neighborhood herbalist mix herbs using similar bowls and had enjoyed the clean spicy balm. The fragrance faded in a day or less.
Why did this perfume hang in the air and cling to the table for so long? Perhaps because it was in an oil base, I thought, and ran my hand around the edges of the wood to feel for slick spots.
This endless day I tried to dull fear with boredom. I knelt by the table, running my hands down the legs, enjoying the smoothness of the dark wood, trying to do the yoga thing of calming my mind, a practice I have yet to master. I had no other reason for what I did.
My fingers caught on an edge. It took me a moment to become aware. Then I knelt and peered through the dim light, running my fingertips back and forth until I realized there was a shallow drawer set in the framing below the tabletop.
It did not have any sort of handle. I prodded it, tried to slip a fingernail into the side, hit it with my palm, and finally sat back on the floor and stared. I could see the line of its four edges but no way at all to open it.
It would be empty, of course, or maybe contain a forgotten brush or scarf. Nothing of value. Yet, what else did I have to do while waiting for my probable demise?
That drawer was a challenge. My mind sharpened as I thought of every drawer in every cabinet and table I had ever seen, and then I remembered hiding under tables when I was small. I reached under the tabletop. It was open, its support beams exposed, no shelf to seal it.
Flat on my back, I slid partway into the table's shadow, reached up, found the bottom of the drawer, pressed my palm against it and pushed it outward. Then I had to wiggle myself out and onto my knees before I could stand.
Secret doors, secret drawers. These folks would love wall safes.
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