To Carry the Horn

by Karen Myers

  Rhian realized she was the only one who could identify him. “That was Scilti, from the inn.” George’s face tightened. “I don’t understand how he was able to go through the palisade,” she said, “but he clearly didn’t expect to find guards here.” She looked at Brynach, grinning.

  “Good thing we were so well armed,” he said, deadpan, looking at the pitiful little pile remaining of Rhian’s knives and the useless practice weapons.

  She couldn’t help it, she collapsed into laughter again, the two of them leaning on each other, holding on by the shoulders. She felt her hand shaking and looked at it, wondering if the feeling would go away.

  Her comrades laughed with her, and she was warmed to have them there, trying to protect them.

  Benitoe remarked dryly, “The next time you two set up to practice, you might invite some of the rest of us. I’m sure we could all use it, and we’re all in this together.” Rhian and Brynach nodded weakly.

  Rhys walked over and shook her, mock ferociously, then gave her a quick hug. “Don’t scare me like that again.”

  By this time many in the yard had heard the hounds or spotted the running hunt staff and followed them. Of their seniors, Ceridwen was the first to arrive. She stood next to George. “I felt someone come through the traps down from the overhang and positioned myself to try and spy out who it was, but he didn’t get this far. Was it our unknown?”

  “No, Scilti, apparently,” he said. “Now we know where he went.

  “He’s gotten as far as the clearing with the small way and hasn’t left. I think we’ll find he’s gone.”

  Rhian was bewildered. She didn’t know about any of this. What small way? What traps?

  Her foster-father was walking up, and her grandfather, too, both of them with faces like thunder. She straightened up and tried to brush herself off, but if she looked anything like Brynach there was no way she could make herself presentable in time. She was in trouble, again.

  Brynach spotted them and came to stand by her. “We did nothing wrong,” he told her quietly.

  That’s right, she thought. Then he spotted Eurig on the edge of the crowd, and it was her turn to encourage him.

  Gwyn stood silent, surveying the inner circle of hunt and kennel staff with the two hounds, and the rest of the ad hoc posse gathered around. He visibly mastered his emotions and the crowd around them quieted down to see what would be next.

  He glanced at Rhian and Brynach standing straight before him. “I trust you two aren’t injured?”

  “We’re fine,” she told him.

  Looking at Ives with his cudgel and the two kennel-men, he said, “Thank you, Master Ives, for your sturdy defense.” He nodded at the three of them. “Please return these hounds to the kennels.”

  “The rest of you,” looking at the inner group, “I will see you in my council room. Immediately.” He singled out Ceridwen and Eurig with a gesture to join them.

  “Find my sister and send her to me. Now.”

  Gwyn finished giving instructions to the servants as everyone settled down around the table, George limping in last and sitting next to Rhian.

  Gwyn looked at her. She was still wearing the protective vest, and his breath caught to see that there was a deep slit on the chest over her heart, with stuffing popping out. A bruise was coming up on one cheek and her braid was a mess, but he reluctantly approved her shining eyes. A glance at Brynach told a similar story, but he seemed well enough, though Eurig’s face was unreadable as he sat next to him.

  Edern, on the other hand, couldn’t restrain himself from speaking to Rhian. “This must stop. I won’t have you putting yourself at risk in this way.”

  Rhian predictably bridled at this. “It’s my choice. I was warned. I want to do this, it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”

  Gwyn looked over her head at George and they exchanged mutual looks of parental despair.

  “Enough,” Gwyn said. “I want an orderly report of exactly what’s happened, and then we will consider the consequences.”

  At this, Creiddylad entered and, hard on her heels, Idris. This would be tricky, Gwyn thought, not to mention too much in front of Creiddylad.

  Ceridwen began, relaying Angharad’s message from the inn that Scilti had left and Maonirn was missing. She continued with her description of the traps laid on the path from the overhang and how they had been triggered, down to the end of the path as it reached the palisade.

  Creiddylad said, “This is why you left the gap in the palisade, so that you could catch someone like this?”

  Gwyn nodded.

  Eurig spoke, for the first time. “And how long have you known there was a passage through the palisade?”

  “Since Iolo’s murder,” Gwyn told him. He saw Rhian nod guiltily. “We left it open to see what we could observe. Ceridwen was monitoring its use.” Looking at Rhian and Brynach, he said, “Obviously we didn’t expect these two to be caught in the middle. Perhaps if they had told someone…”

  George spoke up. “In their defense, they came to me yesterday and received a stern lecture about sparring without the proper protections. I am very pleased to see that they listened,” pointing at Rhian’s vest. She looked down at it and seemed to realize for the first time that she had taken a cut there that might have been deadly. The blood drained from her face. “I didn’t know where they were planning to meet next, if at all, or I would’ve prevented this.”

  Brynach spoke up while Rhian recovered from her shock. “We just wanted a place outdoors with some privacy. Both of us felt the need to get some experience with weapons quickly, after the attack on the huntsman yesterday.”

  Watching a flash of gratitude wash across Rhian’s face, Gwyn suspected that Rhian had been the moving force, not Brynach, but he silently applauded his gallant assumption of responsibility. He could see that Eurig was drawing a similar conclusion.

  Time to release some of the tension in the room.

  “Foster-daughter, I notice that you were rather better armed than I would have expected for a sneak attack. Please stand up.”

  She rose. “Show me what you were carrying.” She drew the two knives from their chest harnesses and put them on the table. “And in the sack?”

  Gwyn watched George stifle a smile as he saw where this was going.

  Rhian reached down and drew out the two stilettos and placed them on the table next to the knives. Gwyn looked at the bag, which clearly had more content, and back at Rhian, silently. She reluctantly reached in and drew out the boot knives, and tossed them onto the pile with a clank. “Is that all?” he asked.

  “Close enough,” she said, defiantly.

  Good, he thought, she’s got something small and private she doesn’t want to reveal.

  He let her stand there for a moment, then relented. “I approve.” He saw the surprise and relief, before she straightened again before him like a soldier. “You will seek out Hadyn and get his recommendations on concealed blades, and the suitability of these. He will give you whatever he thinks appropriate and coach you on their use, immediately, on my word.”

  At Edern’s aghast look, he said, “Brother, she must be armed. Better she become expert as quickly as possible. It’s saved her life today.” Looking at Brynach, he continued, “That, and a brave comrade.”

  Rhian glanced down at the seated Brynach, looking uncomfortable at the praise. “Scilti would have killed us if Brynach hadn’t held him off with just those two knives.”

  Gwyn waved her to her seat again and asked Brynach, “Were you able to do him any damage?”

  Brynach retreated gratefully into a professional report. “No, sir, our blades were too short. I caught him on his left arm once, but it was shallow, I think.”

  Gwyn asked, “How did it end?”

  Rhian cleared her throat. “I couldn’t think what to do. We couldn’t hurt him and he’d get in a blow eventually that would end it. No one could hear us. Then I realized I could make the hounds be heard and tried that. It worked,” sh
e said, wonderingly.

  Benitoe carried the tale. “Ives and I were in the kennels when the pack erupted. We didn’t know what it meant, but they were frantic about something. I asked Ives to release two of them to see what they would lead us to. I thought they’d run to the gates but they went the other way, so I opened the huntsman’s alley to them and let them out into the lane. They took off, growling, and I followed.”

  Rhys spoke up. “I was down at the stables and looked up at the pack cry. I saw Benitoe and the hounds racing up the lane, and took off after them. When I got there and heard what had happened, I went on to the back gates to send some of the guards after Scilti from the outside.”

  Idris said, “I can tell you what they found. Rhys told them where to start looking, and they located the spot where Scilti had tied his horse, but he was long gone by then.”

  Ceridwen finished, “The traps told of horse and rider making their escape.”

  Rhian started to speak, “But I heard you say something about…” She broke off and looked at George in surprise. He shook his head imperceptibly.

  Gwyn assumed George had kicked her under the table. Good, they shouldn’t let anyone else hear about the small hidden way.

  Ceridwen asked, to cover the moment, “How did he get through the hole in the palisade? How did he even get close to it? Did anyone see?”

  Brynach said, “He had something in his hand that he took out of his vest. I couldn’t see what it was.”

  “So,” Gwyn said, “This is the tale of the attack. Anything else to add?”

  Eurig spoke, “Did this Scilti murder Iolo?”

  “No,” Gwyn said, offering no explanation, watching Creiddylad’s face carefully. Eurig took the hint, canny old badger that he was, and didn’t push for more. I owe it to him to fill him in privately after the meeting, Gwyn thought. His kinsman had been in peril, too.

  Creiddylad changed the topic. “We must close the gap in the palisade, at once. I never would’ve agreed to leave it if I thought Rhian would be harmed.”

  Gwyn thought that this, at least, was sincere. He didn’t think she knew much about Scilti, but she obviously was involved in this some way. Wasn’t it interesting that she hasn’t asked whether Scilti was the one who attacked George yesterday. Perhaps she already knows who it was.

  What he didn’t sense was any indication that she was directing these attacks herself. Someone else must be in charge.

  Why would Scilti come in through the palisade? As far as we know, he hasn’t done that before. It can’t have been to attack Rhian; he had no way of knowing she’d be there. He must have come for some other purpose and simply seized the opportunity when he realized he’d been seen. Whatever it was, he’d failed, driven off by a couple of teenagers.

  Something’s happening to the enemy alliance. It’s unraveling somewhere. Creiddylad seems genuinely distressed that Rhian might have been killed, and perhaps that’ll weaken it further.

  Let’s close the palisade and push them some more by rubbing their noses in the failure.

  By the time George, limping slowly, arrived at the palisade behind the balineum, a small crowd had gathered. It wasn’t often they could see a serious magic working, and in broad daylight.

  He braced himself on his cane near Gwyn, who was regarding the people with approval. A show of power, George thought, where all could see that he was protecting his people.

  After a brief conversation with Ceridwen, Creiddylad crossed the no-man’s ground to stand in front of the palisade gap, leaving Ceridwen behind with the rest of the onlookers.

  George said to Gwyn, “She doesn’t have any problem with the ‘keep away’ effect?”

  “She made it, she can control it,” Gwyn said, watching her.

  “Or destroy it?” George said. “Good thing she’s on your side, then.”

  That earned him a hard look and Gwyn’s full attention. George wasn’t sorry, it needed to be said.

  “At least our unknown unfriend is probably shut up in here, too,” George said. Trapped in here with us, he added silently.

  Creiddylad bent her knees to lay both her hands flat on the soil in the gap. A subtle shaking of the soil resulted, magnified by the branches into a larger tremor swirling through the trees and bushes. She straightened and brushed off her hands absently while she looked hard at the gap. The leaves withered visibly and dropped, for three feet on either side. Some in the crowd gasped.

  George realized that though the palisade was autumnally colored, all the leaves elsewhere were still firmly attached, where in the woods outside, in late October, they had started to fall. Did these leaves normally fall, or just renew themselves in the spring?

  Daylight from the other side showed through the bare branches. Creiddylad stood, concentrating on her task, and nothing seemed to happen. Then George saw a green fuzz starting to overlay the bare wood. Before his eyes, leaves began to bud, twist, and then open, like a stop-action film. Other motion caught his eye, and he saw vines twisting across, branches extending from the bushes to support them. At ground level, spreading roots formed humps in the dirt, sending new shoots upward. The scent of fresh growing things drifted down to the crowd.

  After no more than half an hour, she was done. The new growth showed green where the palisade on either side displayed autumn leaves, but otherwise the repair was undetectable.

  She stepped away and came toward Gwyn, nodding and walking past him to the manor. She seemed tired, to George, but his sympathy was limited. She was connected to their enemies in some fashion, and they had almost killed Rhian today. He watched her stonily as she entered the manor alone.

  CHAPTER 31

  The stunningly hot water of the baths in the balineum was having an effect on the deep ache in George’s abused leg. Alun told him no one used the baths in the middle of the afternoon, and he was relieved to find that true. The healed skin was still intact after the exertions today, but bright red in the heat, and the muscles were weak and painful.

  He hoped to avoid meeting anyone. It would hardly inspire confidence for people to see him wounded like this. So far, he’d been lucky to have the place to himself for what must be half an hour. In the silent room, he heard nothing but the occasional lap of water, and lay there mostly submerged, half awake.

  The noise of someone fumbling at the rear entrance door roused him, and he scrambled out to avoid detection, limping quietly to stay out of sight as the footsteps came all the way in to the main bathing area. He was about to duck into the changing room when he heard the steps head that way, and dodged out of sight around the doorway back toward the baths.

  Whoever it was exited at the rear door again, back into the anteroom at the back entrance, and he seized the opportunity to dry off and dress hastily, assuming they’d be back. He was just buttoning his vest and looking for the contents of his pockets when he glanced down at the footprints on the damp floor. There was the imprint Benitoe had described to him on Saturday, tracking the unknown spy back through the palisade—right shoe nicked on the inner heel.

  Excitement raised his hackles. Maybe he could finally see the fellow’s face. He hastily grabbed his pocket contents in his left hand and his cane in his right and swung toward the rear door to follow, when it reopened to the sound of two voices. Reconsidering, he ducked back into the dressing room and froze.

  One of the speakers came in and spoke back through the open rear door, “Are you sure no one’s in here?”

  That was Madog, George thought. No one else had such a round, self-sufficient, even charming voice.

  The voice on the other side of the door, in the anteroom, said, “I walked all the way through. No one uses the baths this time of day.”

  George didn’t recognize the voice. It was thin and jittery.

  Madog said, “If you see anyone coming, tell me and leave as if you have an errand.”

  “I know what to do. They can’t see me from outside,” the voice said, sullenly.

  “There’s a reason we
don’t meet like this. It’s too suggestive for us to be seen together.”

  Got that right, George thought. If only their positions were reversed, so he could see the other one and hear Madog. Well, can’t have everything.

  “Scilti’s gone. That message you sent him in the saddle didn’t cover enough,” the other man said. “We have to talk about what’s next.”

  “You were right, I’ll give you that, when you said he was unnerved, trapped in the inn by Gwyn and Edern and the whole stinking hunting party. But what possessed him to start that fight today, and to not even win it?”

  “Bad luck,” the other one said. “I think he was coming to talk to you, and blundered, thundered into them.” Then George thought he heard the oddest thing—a faint giggle.

  If Madog heard it, he ignored it. “Now he’s gone back through the way, I felt him. When I get back there, he better be gone. He’ll be lucky to get work standing border watch. He’s roused all their suspicions and accomplished little. Even Creiddylad’s beginning to balk.”

  “Does she know how we were getting through the palisade?”

  “No, and I don’t intend to tell her. She knows too much already.”

  The outside voice became more frantic. “You’re not thinking of stopping? We can’t fail now, not when we’re so close. You have to let me finish it.”

  “You? Look what a mess you made of your attack on that wretched human. I’m going to have to take other steps now. How could you miss like that?”

  “He saw me and moved. You know I only had time for the one shot. I barely got back ahead of them, first to Creiddylad’s place, then yours.”

  Madog sighed. “When I set these things up, there aren’t any failures or loose ends. Rhys ab Edern isn’t coming back.”

  The voice replied, with a sly poke. “But the children lived, didn’t they?”

  Shocked, George dropped the pocket knife from his left hand onto the bare floor, and the conversation stopped. He hastily picked it up and crammed everything in his pockets any which way and buried his cane in a pile of towels to free his hands.