The Heirs Of Hammerfe

by Marion Zimmer Bradley

  Conn was struck by the inescapable logic and clarity of this. The Hammerfell estates were under the same crunch; would it really help if every smallholder were left alone to survive or go under on his own? Was Storn perhaps simply yielding to unpleasant necessity? He should talk at length with Alastair- and perhaps to Lord Storn himself. Storn, after all, had managed an estate in these hills for decades before he was born.

  But there should be some way to allow for special cases, and if the land was no good for farming, and

 

  one man was holding all this land, should he not perhaps sit down with his estate manager and the tenants and decide fairly what was the best use of it, rather than one deciding for all, as Storn felt so ready to do?

  Enough. He was not, in spite of having been trained for it, Duke of Hammerfell; he must consult with Alastair, and custom meant it must be for Alastair to decide. Yes, even if he decides wrong, said the voice which meant honor and law in his mind. Then the side of him which Markos had trained to tell himself: I am responsible for all these men reminded him that if Alastair cared nothing for them, he must still try to convince his brother to do what was right.

  Storn was staring at him. The old man said truculently, "I suppose you are Hammerfell's brother, then; the other twin. Then you'll be the man who's been harrying my soldiers all summer and interfering with my orders."

  Conn said, "Tonight, sir, we had no chance to interfere with your orders. Is it criminal to take a woman and six little children to shelter out of the rain?"

  The old man had the grace to blush at that; but he continued, "Your men have been giving aid and comfort to anarchy-inciting my tenants to riot and rebel against me."

  "No such thing," Conn said. ""I have been in Thendara all this summer-nor have I ever incited anyone to rebellion or riot, in all my born days."

  "And I suppose you didn't kill my nephew, either?" the old man demanded testily.

  Conn was startled; in the heat of honest dispute he had all but forgotten the feud itself.

 

  He said, "We did indeed kill Dom Rupert in the battle; but he was armed and attacking me and my men on grounds which had belonged for ages past to Hammerfell. I feel no guilt for that. I am not to blame for a feud which began before either you or I was born; I inherited this enmity-thanks to you it was my only inheritance, sir."

  Storn scowled at him. He said, "There's truth to that, I suppose. Yet for years I thought the feud had been settled by the only settlement there usually is in such things-nobody left alive to carry it on."

  "Well, that's not true," Conn said. "I'm here to say if you still want trouble, Lord Storn, my brother and I-" and then he stopped, remembering that Alastair was actually under Storn's roof.

  In the abrupt silence, Storn remembered, too, and said quickly, "Have no fear for your brother; he's my guest, under fire-truce; he has saved the life of the only kin left living to me; my grandniece. He seems a reasonable person, and certainly I'd offer him no evil in return for that." After a moment more he said, musing, "Perhaps after all, young Hammerfell, this feud has gone on long enough-there are few enough of us left-"

  "I'm asking no mercy from you," Conn said fiercely.

  Storn's eyebrows met; he said, "No one will accuse you of cowardice, young man; yet there's enough trouble beyond our borders, perhaps we should not have enemies inside our very gates. The Aldarans and the Hasturs stand always ready to gobble up our domains while we quarrel-"

  This made Conn think of King Aidan, whom he had so incomprehensibly come to love; yet Storn spoke of him as if he were the greater enemy of

 

  them both. He said stiffly, "Mine is not the authority over Hammerfell these days, Lord Storn. It is not for me to say whether this enmity between our houses shall be honorably carried on, or honorably ended. Only the Duke of Hammerfell can answer to that, my lord. If you seek an end to this feud-"

  "That remains to be seen," Storn interjected.

  "If an end is to come," Conn amended, "it is for my brother to say, and not myself."

  Storn scowled at him and then said, "It seems to me that you and your brother are like the man who didn't settle with his left hand what his right hand was doing, and tore himself into pieces trying to drive his team in two directions. I think you and your brother should settle between yourselves what it is you want; and then I will be ready to negotiate with you whether you want peace or war between us."

  "I can hardly consult with my brother while you hold him in your castle, sir."

  "I have said before this that he is my guest, not my prisoner; he is free to depart when he will, but 1 should be a sorry host if he left my roof before his burns were healed. If you wish to visit him and see for yourself that all is well, I pledge you that neither I, nor any man of Storn blood or allegiance shall offer either of you harm or insult . . . and you'll find my word as good as the word of a Hastur."

  Storn was right; it was time to speak with Alastair. It went against the grain to trust a Storn; and yet it seemed to Conn that all of this could have ended long ago if anyone had been willing to trust anyone else. He had been impressed by the elderly Storn's openness and by his explanations of his actions; was

 

  he to trust his own feelings, or cling to an ancient enmity which had been set in motion before any of them was born and with which he had nothing to do?

  "I will accept your safe-conduct," he said, "and I will go and speak with my brother."

  Storn gestured to one of his men.

  "Take young Hammerfell to Storn," he said, "and sec that no harm conies to him, and that he may depart untouched when he will; my word of honor upon it."

  Conn bowed to the old man; swung around looking for his horse, then remembered that he had directed Markos to take the young woman with the babies away. Well, he was young and strong, and the rain was beginning to abate. He strode away steadily toward Storn Heights, and not until he was out of sight did he even wonder where old Lord Storn would be housed this night.

 

  17

  Alastair and Lenisa found little to say after her grandfather left; perhaps because there was not much which could be said while matters remained as they were between them: Alastair pledged to another woman, and Lenisa the grandniece of his oldest enemy.

  He wanted to tell her about Floria, but there was really nothing he could say; it was a kind of arrogance to assume that she would have any interest in his promised wife and an even worse arrogance to assume that she would feel offended or resentful because of this relationship.

  The fact was that he wanted to tell her everything about himself, but he had just been forcibly reminded that she was a Storn, and not a woman to whom he could in propriety express any personal interest, even if he had not been pledged in marriage to another woman. So they merely sat tongue-tied, looking at

 

  one another sorrowfully. To break the painful silence, Lenisa finally reminded him that he had been admonished to rest because of his burns.

  "I am not in pain now," Alastair said.

  "I am very glad to hear it; but you are still in no condition to go out into the storm, or to ride on campaign," Lenisa reminded him. "I think you should sleep."

  "But I am not even a little sleepy," Alastair said in a complaining tone.

  "1 am sorry for that, but still you know that you must rest; shall I go and ask Dame Jarmilla for a sleeping-draught for you?" she asked, as if she would be glad of something to do.

  "No, no, don't put yourself to the trouble," said Alastair quickly, mostly not wanting her to leave him, for fear she might take this as an excuse to stay away.

  All this time the old dog on the floor had remained motionless, only pricking up her ears now and again when Alastair spoke. Now she began to whine, prowling restlessly around the room. Lenisa looked at her curiously, and Alastair frowned, scolding her.

  "Down, Jewel. Quiet, girl; behave yourself! Why, what's the matter with the creature? Jewel
, lie down," he said sharply, but Jewel continued her restless pacing and whimpering.

  "Does she need to go out? Shall I take her, or call Dame Jarmilla to walk her?" Lenisa asked, turning to the door. Jewel made a series of short rushes at the door, then stood there whining and imploring. As if in answer to the old dog's summons, Dame Jarmilla came in.

 

  "Young mistress," she began, then broke off, "why, what ails your dog, sir?"

  Jewel's whining became loud and insistent; Dame Jarmilla, trying to make herself heard over the sound, said, "There's a man outside who insists he is here to seek the Duke of Hammerfell-close relation to yourself, sir, judging by his face-"

  "It must be my brother Conn," said Alastair, "That's what's wrong with the dog, of course; she knows Conn and was not expecting to see him here. Nor was I; I thought he was in Thendara." He hesitated. "May I beg you to receive him, damisela?"

  "Bring him in," Lenisa said to Dame Jarmilla, who sniffed disapproval, but went, Jewel rushing after her. The dog returned in a moment, jumping and frisking around Conn, who came in, looking somewhat damp and bedraggled, for though the rain had abated briefly, it had not truly stopped, but instead turned to sleet. There were the beginnings of icicles in Conn's hair.

  Lenisa looked at him with a childlike giggle. She said, "Surely this must be the first time in all the history of Storn Heights that we have under our roof not one but two Dukes of Hammerfell. Well, I suppose you can tell yourselves apart if no one else can. Which of you was it I met in the tavern in Lowerhammer, who cost me a bowl of porridge with honey?"

  "It was I," said Alastair, a trifle annoyed that she should ask. "You might have known that from the dog."

  "Really? But look how the poor girl is greeting your brother, as if delighted to greet her real master," said Lenisa, and at Alastair's scowl, added, "well,

 

  you cannot blame me for not making a distinction between you if your own dog, who knows you both much better than I do, does not."

  This was so true that Alastair felt guilty for his own annoyance at it, and was also by reflex angry at Jewel for what seemed, and felt like, betrayal. He said sharply, "Down, Jewel; behave yourself."

  "No need to be angry with the dog," said Conn roughly. "She's not done anything to be ashamed of. But of all the places I had expected to find you, brother, surely this is the last; snug under Storn's roof, while that same Storn's been out harrying our people out of their homes into the rain."

  Alastair just scowled and said, "I thought you were in Thendara- to care for our mother. Did you leave her alone and unprotected, then?"

  "Our mother has many who wish to protect her," Conn said. "But she is here, safe, and Floria and Gavin are with her. When we realized you were hurt, and in Storn's hands, did you expect us all to remain in Thendara and do nothing?"

  "Well, yes, I did," Alastair said. "After all, I am in no danger here; Lord Storn has been most courteous and hospitable."

  "So I see," said Conn dryly, with a sidelong look at Lenisa. "Is his granddaughter included in his hospitality?"

  Alastair scowled; Conn could read in his thoughts that he was more offended for Lenisa's sake than his own. Alastair said dryly that the question did not arise; that the damisela was his hostess and had tended his wounds kindly; that there had been no question anything more.

 

  "I know not how you deal with women in the mountains," Alastair said reprovingly, "but in Thendara, one would not speak so even about the daughter- or for that matter, the grandniece-of one's worst enemy."

  "Yet I find you here alone with her at this godforgotten hour of the night; are you so badly wounded, then, brother, that you must be woman-watched all night?"

  "In Thendara, one need not be at death's door to be trusted in the presence of a lady," Alastair said, and Conn could read the unspoken part of that: This brother of mine will always be a country bumpkin, with no more knowledge of tact nor of gallantry than his own dog.

  Conn said, "All the same I must talk with you, brother; can we dispense then with the presence of the damisela7'

  "I have nothing to say to you that couldn't be said in her presence, or in the presence of the Gods themselves, for all I have to say is simple truth," Alastair said. "Please don't go, Lenisa."

  I don't want her out of my sight. Until this moment, Alastair had not clearly admitted that to himself; now he knew it. And Conn who heard his thoughts, said sharply, "And Floria, what of her? She is waiting for you at our mother's side, while you cannot even keep your straying fancy off Storn's own kin."

  "You chide me for that?" Alastair said sharply, "when you cannot even keep your own eyes off my promised wife."

  I thought Alastair had no laran; how then does he read my thoughts'? Is it as obvious as all that? Conn demanded of himself with a sense of guilty dread.

  Conn said gently, "Brother, I've no wish to quarrel

 

  with you, above all, not here under this of all roofs. I have spoken with Lord Storn, and since you are here, I should imagine that you have, too. . . ."

  Alastair's anger, far from being quieted by his tone, flamed instead.

  So for all his talk of accepting me as duke and overlord, he feels that he will go behind my back and settle all this with Lord Storn without so much as consulting me; he feels that Hammerfell and the men of Hammerfell are all still under his orders!

  So, Conn thought, he feels that after twenty years spent in the city, far from Hammerfell, a fop and a good-for-nothing, he can walk in and settle this by diplomacy without reference to the long history which is between Hammerfell and Storn. What honor is there in that? With all his heart he wished his brother could read his mind; instead it must all be laboriously put into words, and Conn knew he had small skill with words, while Alastair, skilled in city ways, knew exactly how to talk his way round the real issues.

  And he's in love with this girl-Storn's grandniece. Does she know it? Does she have laran?

  He said at last, slowly, "I suppose, Alastair, it's up to you to send out the word to raise what men are still pledged to fight for Hammerfell. After that, King Aidan-" he broke off short.

  Lenisa said, interrupting him, "It must come to war, I hen? I had hoped, when you and my greatuncle talked together so reasonably, that some way could he found to bring an end to this long hostility-"

  Alastair said, looking at Lenisa and avoiding Conn's eyes, "Is that what you want, Domna Lenisa, that we should make peace?"

  Unexpectedly, Conn, who had been trying to re-

 

  main reasonable, was so angry he could not contain his temper.

  "This is why I feel the lady should leave us; there are many important things to talk about which cannot be settled by women," he rasped sharply.

  Alastair said, "Your country upbringing shows discourtesy, my brother; in civilized parts of the world, women are expected to join with men in making important decisions which, after all, concern them just as much as their men. Would you seek to exclude our mother, who is a Tower worker, from any important decision like this? Or is it only that Lenisa is too young to share in making these decisions?"

  "She is a Storn," Conn responded angrily; and Lenisa leaned forward and said, "It is because of that that this decision concerns me. I represent half of this ancient feud; I inherited it as you did, I lost my father to it as did you-although, the Gods know, I hardly knew him-how can you say I am not concerned in it, that I should sit quietly on the sidelines and let others decide what's to be done?"

  Conn began reasonably, "Damisela, I have no enmity toward you; only in name, quite literally, could anyone call you enemy. You have neither fought nor killed, you are this feud's victim, not one of its causes."

  Lenisa said angrily, "You speak as if I were a child or feeble of mind; because I do not take up the sword and fight at my grandsire's side does not mean I know nothing of this ancient feud."

  "Now I have made you angry, and I did not mean to," said Con
n, "I was simply trying-"

  "Trying to make me into a nothing, because only men have a right to speak out in such things," Lenisa raged. "At least your brother admits that I have a

 

  legitimate interest in what concerns my clan and my family! He believes that I am human and have a right to my own thoughts and to speak openly of what concerns me instead of whispering it to my husband for him to take my part!"

  Conn said uncomfortably, trying to make a joke of it, "I did not know that you had taken up the vow of the Sisterhood of the Sword-"

  "I haven't," Lenisa said, "but I feel I have a right to speak, for this feud concerns me as much as it does my grandfather; maybe more, since he is an old man and whatever may be decided will concern him only for a few more years at most; whereas I, and my children if I have any, must live with it for all our lives."

  Conn said heavily, after a moment, "You are right. Forgive me, Domna Lenisa; do you feel, then, that my brother and I should deal with you instead of your grandfather?"

  "I did not say that; you are making fun of me. I said only that it concerns me as much as it concerns my grandfather and therefore I am entitled to a voice in it."

  "Well, go ahead and say what you've got on your mind, then," Conn said. "What do you feel about this feud? Do you want to carry it on for another hundred years because our ancestors hated and killed one another?"

  Lenisa stared at the wall, and her jaws clenched as if she were trying not to cry. She said at last, "I would rather not think of Alastair as my enemy. Or you, either; I feel no enmity toward you, nor does my grandfather any longer; he spoke to your brother as a friend. What do you want, Hammerfell?"