Thirty-six
TIGHTLY BOUND AND MOVING with caution, Rustin waited with me on the donjon steps to greet the savior of Verein.
Escorted by Groenfil and Danzik, Anavar pranced Edmund through the postern gate. In a signal honor, I raised my hands to applaud his arrival. My court followed suit. He bowed from the saddle, radiant and bursting with pride.
As soon as was seemly, I cornered Anavar by the stable, away from prying ears. Only Rustin was present, and Bollert, who rubbed and brushed Edmund. “Well? How’d you do it?”
Anavar’s grin faded to something more wistful. “I didn’t, sir.”
“Sarazon panicked? A rabbit hopped out and alarmed him?”
“Not exactly.” To Bollert, a grin, and one returned. “The Norlanders came at dawn. The field was thick with them. No parlay, no offer to spare lives. Against their thousands, we were lost. So ... I called Bollert to the wall.” Anavar clapped him on the shoulder. “It was he saved us!” The groomsman, patting Edmund’s nose, leered a snaggletoothed grin and looked demented.
I blinked. “How?”
Anavar’s eyes sparkled. “I had him race the length of the battlement, back and forth, waving and shouting so they’d look at him. ‘Run away!’ he yelled. ‘Be afraid! Run!’ They were befuddled; no one thought to look away. Each Norlander who heard turned and bolted to the ravine. After a time we let them come closer, for greater effect; besides, Bollert was winded. At the last moment he would pop out from behind an arrow slit and shriek; what soul wouldn’t glance at that? ‘Run! Feel terror! Begone!’ All in hearing cast aside their ladders, dropped spears, ran as if demons gnawed at their heels. Oh, sir, could you have seen it!”
What nonsense was this? “None had presence of mind to loose a shaft at a screaming churl?”
“A few, but Bollert was stout of heart. And I followed close, with my shield. It took two arrows. The rest missed.”
“But—you can’t—he isn’t—” I spluttered to a halt. “That’s no way to war! Where’s the honor? And Powers are for a royal house to wield. How dare you usurp—Rustin, don’t tug at me, I know what I’m say—all right.” I twisted free, clenching my jaw.
“The king apologizes,” said Rustin. “He’s astounded by your feat. A touch dismayed, perhaps, that Bollert’s power rivals his. But he’ll get over it. Won’t you, Roddy?”
“Yes, sir.” Almost, I was sullen, but good sense burst through my petulance. “It’s unheard of. I’m—” A deep breath. “You held Verein with twenty men.” I shook my head at the marvel of it. Still, doubts assailed me. “It was your notion, Anavar? Entirely?”
Anavar said, “The night before you rode, did I not ask for Bollert?”
“That was before—” I gaped. “As soon as then, you conceived it?”
His shrug was modest.
“Well done, Anavar. You have my heartfelt thanks. Rust, shall we go? Imps and demons, don’t glare so! If I’ve done wrong, say it!”
Holding his ribs, Rust made his way to the donjon. I threw up my hands.
“My lord?” Groenfil. “May I have word?”
“In a moment.” To Anavar, “He’s moody. Pain makes him more so.”
Anavar said stiffly, “He thinks you ought to thank Bollert.”
“Is that so?”
“As do I.”
I tried to scowl him into submission, but he held firm. I sighed. “It’s not meet. A bondsman owes his liege service. Why, just yesterday, a fisher from Stoneshore ... And was made baron for it.
No, not Bollert; he’d make a laughingstock of nobility. Still, Rust and Anavar were right. I was acting the Roddy of old, and found I wasn’t proud of it. Resolutely, I turned my gaze to Bollert. The groomsman scuffled straw with his torn boot. I said, “Recall you the Warthen’s Gate? You saved my cause, until the need was undone by Rustin’s return.”
My bondsman nodded.
“And now again. Thanks to you, Verein is saved. What would you, for reward?”
He shrugged. “Dunno, m’lord. A sly grin. “Sleep in donjon, ’steada stable.”
An easy price. “Done.” Then, reluctantly, “Bollert, you ask not enough. Confer with Anavar; he’s skilled at wheedling boons from his lord. This eve, we’ll settle.”
I turned to Lord Groenfil. “Your raids went well?”
“Exceedingly.” He permitted himself a wintry smile. “Jatho found us, and we watched from the hill. All was dark. Then a firefly, in the harbor. And another. Soon the bay was alight. Magnificent, Roddy.” Groenfil stinted no praise; it made me feel shabby before Anavar and Bollert.
“My easternmost scouts reported Sarazon’s haste to leave Verein. Meanwhile, two circles of their wagons camped on the road; our mounted scouts had left them unmolested. But if ever was our moment, it was now. Deep in night we sacked them, and left the trail to rest. Dawn came, and morn. By twelfth hour the Norland exodus from Stryx had begun.”
“We saw it.”
He was deep in recollection. “I made no attempt to block Seacross Road; instead, we crossed it north to south, crashing through the column from Stryx, pulling wagons over, spearing pikemen, putting anyone within reach to the sword, disappearing over the hill. Then, half a league east, the same, crossing south to north. And again.” Some grim resolve kindled in his eyes. “I’d be there still, were not the horses utterly spent. To Bollert, “I heard, over Rodrigo’s shoulder. You have courage. We thank you.”
Bollert’s eyes lit, and made me feel a miser. I said quickly to Groenfil, “You made camp ... ?”
“A league up the road. Roddy, Willem told me about my castle.”
“It was the Rood, my lord. Your sons were helpless before it.”
Straw swirled in a sudden breeze. “No matter, if they spill each other’s blood. I must go.”
I said, “We must. As soon as I retrieve Elryc from Soushire.”
“Today, my liege.”
“Impossible. Elryc—”
“My sons! Would you my castle fell?”
Helplessly, I looked about. “It’s near dusk.”
“Time enough to join my men.”
“Rustin’s not well enough.”
“Let him ride in a cart.”
How was it I spoke of Groenfil’s domain, and not Soushire? Inwardly, I sighed. I would ride to Elryc the moment Groenfil was comforted. Hester’s warning should not be ignored; for all her temper, she was a canny old soul.
Meanwhile, Willem’s new-found troops must need time to assemble; they were new at the soldier’s game. “Ride ahead, my lord,” I told Groenfil. “Harry the Norland stragglers. Anavar and I will organize the march and leave at dawn.”
“You’ll be two days behind us!”
“That is so.” The wind gusted. I said evenly, “Govern your passion, my lord. It’s always thus with troops afoot.”
“If my sons die ...”
He was my most faithful vassal, and I must give him more. “I’ll ride ahead, to join you. Take a string of extra horses. Ebon—”
“And I.” Anavar.
“—Ebon will be spent.” To my baron, “Would you not hold Verein?”
“That danger’s past. No Norlander who fled the field returned to face Bollert. Sarazon decamped rather than risk their mutiny.”
“Very well.” To Groenfil, “We ride at dawn and will meet you midday.” As I started for the donjon Anavar called, “Wait, sir!”
“Now what?” I was less than gracious.
“Look what I found!”
“Gold?”
“You might say so.” With great care, he eased a bundle from his saddlebag, began to unwrap it.
“I know you mean well, but give it directly to Willem. He needs to pay—” My voice trailed.
Anavar unwrapped the other half of the bundle, presented it to me with a flourish.
I sank to a round of baled hay. “Where did you get them?”
“I forced Verein’s strongroom.”
Odd. Knowing the value Mar placed on them, I thought
he’d find a more cunning place to secrete the Vessels of the Still.
Oh, in a pinch, dirty water would do, in a cracked bowl, but stillsilver was better, and made the sight clearer. And the Vessels—the Chalice and Receptor that Mother had shown me in her strongroom, in my callow, foolish years—were the essence of my Power. I’d seen them but once, used them never. They ought augment my Power as stillsilver did water.
I ran my finger across the rim of the Receptor. Did I imagine the tingle? I shivered. “Thank you.”
Anavar bowed.
“With all my heart, Anavar. You do me great service, over and again.” Reverently, I covered the Chalice. A great peace descended. My eyes strayed to the groomsman Bollert, who watched raptly. He’d saved Verein, and given me entry to the Sands, that Rustin might live. Not once had he used his Power against me, when easily he might. I swallowed. “Come hither.” I touched his shoulder, cautiously, as if he might bite. “Bollert, I slight you without thought. I know not why. Well, yes I do: you’re lowborn, and I seem only to value nobles. It’s a failing Rust hasn’t knocked out of me. I pray pardon. Willingly I free you, though I ask that you stay with me. Would you?”
The boy’s eyes shone. “Aye, m’lord!”
Anavar’s posture eased. “Thank you, sir. He’s grateful too, though he hasn’t the words for it.”
“Come, let us be gone, lest they dine without their liege.”
Rustin’s eyes blazed. “You agreed what?”
“To ride at cockcrow. Groenfil’s steadfast and true, and needs help.” I glanced at Anavar, who sat on our bedside bench, but he offered no support.
“Roddy, what possesses you? Did we not wrestle with Hriskil before Groenfil’s gates? Were we not repulsed?”
“Yes, but—”
“When we had far more men?”
“Aye.” That force, or its remnant, now safeguarded Elryc and Lady Larissa at Soushire.
“Yet you convene a handful of unblooded men, churls a bare month ago, and hope for better? Are you addled?”
“We’ve had success and need follow it with another.”
“Why?”
“That our adherents not lose heart.”
“It’s rash, headlong, and why I’m made regent.”
Anavar stirred. “He’s right, Lord Rustin. Think on it.”
“Be silent!” To me, “I’d not overrule you before Groenfil, and you know it.”
“Your pardon, sir.” I made my voice meek.
“Go, Roddy. I love you, but you vex me.”
I made a short bow, friend to friend. I swung open the door. Rust said sharply, “Not you, Anavar. Stay.” It was like a slap. Disconsolate, I went to wander the courtyard. I was moody and tired, and when I saw Danzik sitting in the shade of a tower, I joined him.
The Norlander studied me. “You hasten the end.”
“By chasing Sarazon?” We spoke Norl; I took care with my words.
“And Hriskil, when you should turn and run.”
“Not today, Guiat. I’ve no patience for our play.”
“I speak serious. Sarazon gives you Stryx, so you think he’ll always flee.”
“You think not?”
Danzik said, “A cornered wolf will turn and bite.”
“Why warn me? Is that not your desire?”
He was silent a long while. “Qay. But you and El-e-rek like ... hounds sleep in tent. Not want them wolf’s dinner.”
“Why, Danzik! Do you say you’ll miss me?”
A reluctant grin. “Quix iot.” Perhaps a little.
Anavar stayed long with Rust, behind a barred door. After, when he emerged, he said as little as he might. When he was gone, I peered into our bedroom.
Rustin sat in a cushioned chair, squeezed wineskin in hand. His face was flushed. Seeing my raised eyebrow, he snapped, “Look to your own conduct, youngsire. Don’t upbraid mine.”
“Not a word did I—”
“Go to Tresa. Say your good-byes to Hester. Confer with Willem.”
“But not you?”
He scoured the ire from his tone. “Not this eve, my prince. Not ’til we sleep.”
“What troubles you, sir?”
“Nothing I’ll speak of.”
I dined, and cheered my nobles, and gave audience to Jahl of Stoneshore, that Willem might record his ennoblement. When I returned to my chamber, Rust was drowsy and disconsolate. He said only, “I’ll stay in Stryx, to heal. Two days, or three.”
“I approve.”
“I order you, Roddy: risk not your life in foolish daring.”
“I won’t, Rust.” I settled in bed.
Before dawn, a knock awakened me, and swiftly I dressed. The castle was a stirred anthill; cooks dipped ladles in huge vats of porridge, feeding men who shuffled past with their bowls. Outside, horses neighed, kicked at their traces, as our column was assembled.
At the stables, Anavar tugged at Edmund’s bridle, walking him to the door.
I caught his arm. “What said you to Rustin?”
“He bade me not speak of it.”
“I require it.”
“No, sir, not today. Trust me in this.” He held my eye.
Our party on horseback was small: Anavar, Danzik and I, and my bodyguards, led by Pardos. The men on foot would follow; our task was to overtake Groenfil by twelfth hour. We cantered out the gate, slowed to walk our mounts down the steep twisting road to the bay. The way through Stryx was long but ultimately faster; we had use of better, straighter roads than the trails bypassing the city.
We alternated canter and walk, resting our horses briefly where we might. In an hour or so we covered the league to Groenfil’s camp of the night before, but the earl had roused his cavalry early, to press on to his domain. At least he’d had the courtesy to leave Jatho in the vacated camp, to urge us onward. And, in noteworthy kindness, he’d left us a dozen fresh horses. I transferred my gear, glad to give Ebon rest.
It was well past twelfth hour when we came upon Groenfil’s outguard, mounted bowmen concealing themselves by the side of the road. They pointed the way; we spurred our tired mounts and soon found ourselves among the main body of his force. They were taking water from a stream.
Groenfil’s bow was perfunctory. “Where are Willem’s recruits?”
“Far behind,” I said. “Why the shock and dismay? You knew it would be so.”
“Time is short.” He paced, thrusting Anavar from his path with a gesture of annoyance. “Hriskil’s noose tightens. Sappers near the north wall, where the tower needs repair.”
I asked, “How do you know this?”
“Scouts, on fast horses, half-killed.” His tone was grim.
“By tomorrow our foot soldiers—”
“Tomorrow Hriskil will attack!” A gust twirled leaves from the willow. “Willem said Horst is sore hurt. Franca relies on him to direct the archers.”
It was Franca who’d stabbed his brother, but I knew not to remind the earl.
Anavar’s tone was soothing. “My lord, your sons have stood firm, have they not? One more day—”
“Horst took his wound three days past. That means Hriskil is rested from use of the Rood. Tomorrow, he’ll wield it again.” Groenfil ceased his pacing to face me. “Roddy, I must ride.”
“I implore you, don’t throw our force piecemeal into the fray.”
He said forcefully, “I hazarded domain and castle, sons and all, knowing that unless you were saved, all I had was lost. In return, I ask leave to defend my domain.”
Anavar said, “My lord, all the king wishes is that we gather our strength. With Willem’s thousand—”
I knew not right, and had nobody to ask. Rustin was fretting in his bed, and Mother far distant in her cave. I might bid Groenfil wait, while I invoked the Still to consult Mother and my grandsires, but I’d squander use of the Power for no less than a day and a night, even for the shortest meet in the cave.
Groenfil wheeled on Anavar. “Youngsire, why must you insert yourself in my converse wit
h the king? Is it affair of yours?”
Anavar struggled to make his tone meek. “I meant no offense, but can you not see it troubles the king when—”
“The Rood is fearsome. You care not that it destroys my sons.”
I took deep breath. “No, my lords. Beleaguer not each other; you’re allies in my cause, and I cherish you both.”
Groenfil disregarded it. “What is your answer?”
“Your horsemen must wait for the men of Stryx.”
His face was stone.
I said, “But we ourselves will ride the night through, a score of us, no more. At Groenfil Castle I will do battle with the Rood.”
Of the night’s ride, the less said, the better. I was saddlesore, exhausted, frightened of the struggle to come. The horses were near spent, the hills ever steeper, the dark a miasma of terror.
When Groenfil inquired what place I sought, all I could tell him was a grove or wood where we might not be seen, near the plain from which rose the castle. I knew not the spot, hoped against hope we would find it.
Anavar reminded me I’d promised Rustin I’d not risk my life in foolish daring. An easy vow, but hard to preserve when my kingdom demanded daring and resolve. I comforted myself, saying that what seemed foolish in the planning appeared a stroke of genius if fortune smiled on the gamble. In retrospect, only those gambits that failed seemed foolish.
We’d long since left the main road; we were too near Hriskil and Sarazon to risk a stray encounter. As dark had fallen, of necessity our pace slowed. Now, we picked our way along a miserable overgrown trail, ducking low-hanging limbs that might pull us from our saddles.
Anavar spurred alongside. His voice was low. “I won’t call you from your trance ’til battle’s done. Or ought I?”
“I don’t know. The cobra will be strong.” I hesitated, then abandoned reserve. “I fear the cave, Anavar. I grow chill at the thought of it.”
“If he—it—bests you, what then?”
“Perhaps it means death, though I think not.”
“The Rood is fearsome. To counter it, you must know it is used, and in the learning, we’re at each other’s throats. Much is already lost.”
“I know.”
Anavar’s tone was gloomy. “If only Hriskil had not the advantage.”
The King (Rodrigo of Caledon Book 2) Page 49