Governance
Part VII – Imbolc
1 – 14 February 463 HE
Chapter Twenty-Five — Governance
1 – 8 February
"What you should do, sire, is get south at a gallop. Something—probably you—has triggered Maggur's army into movement, and thanks to the Wildmage we've enough warning for you to get out. But as you've no intention of doing so there isn't much we can do but wait until Scanran forces cross the Vassa and we've a clearer idea where they're going."
Vanget's voice was a growl and Kel knew if there were space he'd be pacing. She should have felt the same way but found herself possessed by calm, not quite Lord Sakuyo's peace but touched with it. Irnai's prophecy had sunk in bone deep, and she'd been waiting ever since, convinced the war would come decisively to the Greenwoods and New Hope would be on the line; the addition of king and council to the stakes, however foolishly, had limited meaning because she could not be more committed to protecting all at risk.
It was almost dawn and they were crammed into her office. She could have taken them to the conference room, where the Council would assemble, but with a table it would have been Jonathan on one side facing his commanders on the other; cramped before her desk they necessarily formed a circle and however authority crackled it was less absolute than it might have been. The King was expending his in resistance; to assert himself would require a shift in mode he probably would have made in Corus, but not here, against a rightly exasperated haMinchi general and not in her domain. Kel had begun by relaying what Barzha and Hebakh had found—a force of at least two thousand well-equipped infantry heading slowly for a Vassa crossing mid-way between Steadfast and Mastiff. Trailsign indicated a further force had continued east when this group split off—a substantially larger army, Barzha guessed but couldn't affirm, that included cavalry and wagons. At Kel's request stormwings were following the trailsign, but low cloud extended far north so they had to fly under it to follow the road and it might be days before any further report.
Vanget, coming from the spellmirror despite the hour, had been able to add that an owl had rung the bell at Northwatch, and there had been probing attacks into haMinchi lands that had Lord Ferghal doubting how many men he could afford to detach. He had set to arguing probable intentions with no agreement save a common conviction the King should shift his royalness south, but waves of pressure had broken on Jonathan's stubborn refusal to go. Now Kel thought it was time to end it.
"Actually, Vanget, I think we do know what they're doing, though you're not going to like my reasoning."
He scowled at the King. "Don't like anything much today, Kel. Go on."
"You were all analysing Scanran forces functionally—why infantry in the west and so on. I've been thinking about other internal differences and Barzha said those infantry were regulars, so far as she could tell. And she wasn't going on equipment or the way they made camp—it was minds. I asked her what they were like by comparison with Stenmun's men, and she said there was none."
Wyldon blinked. "You asked her to read their minds?"
"Emotions. Stormwings don't mindspeak or do as the elemental does, but they feed on emotions—all emotions. They prefer fear and terror but sense them all, just as we see all food, not just food we like."
"Hang on, Kel." Raoul was frowning. "You asked her? How?"
"Stormwing magic, relaying to one still here." Kel didn't like lying, especially to Raoul, but didn't want to bring darkings into it yet. She could tell Alanna guessed the truth—she must have known about Trick meeting George—but didn't say anything. "The point is that where Stenmun's lot were dark, fierce, and empty—Barzha's words—most of these men were just soldiers. Most, not all—the command group was Stenmun -like, wanting to fight and kill. The rest were under orders. So I think we're talking about coerced forces—men like Stanar who've been ordered to fight by clanchiefs, and will, but have no heart for it—under loyalist command. And there are enough to tie down our forces at both forts, which is what I expected."
"It is?"
"It's what I'd do in Maggur's shoes if I really wanted New Hope. He knows we'll bleed him before we fall, so he's going to have to sacrifice a lot of men. He doesn't want to expend loyalists, because he'll need them afterwards, and he has a problem using coerced troops that way —they're not green, know exactly what being in the first waves will mean, and his hold over them is hostages, which buy him service, not willing suicide. So he'll have to use conscripts and whatever magepower he's got to draw our teeth, and then send his hard men to take our last shots and keep coming. Meantime the coerced forces prevent relief—it'll be more of them at Northwatch and the haMinchi lands, and their job is delay, not attack. The ones Barzha's tracking have the loyalists, whatever's in those wagons, and the conscripts, and they're heading here." She smiled faintly. "What will you bet that when Barzha finds that other force it's at least five thousand strong, with mages and immortals—giants, maybe others—and heading south on the Smiskir road? No takers? The western infantry are a detachment going slowly so they won't arrive ahead of time. They won't do much attacking. Being there's enough."
"Small comfort." Vanget was still growling. "It makes sense, I grant, Kel, but it's still speculation."
"So let's test it. Ask Lord Ferghal to scout hard and push back sharply. How many troops are harassing him? With two thousand confirmed in the west, any confirmation of five thousand or more on the Smiskir road will mean there can't be many as far east as haMinchi lands. So we'll know it's a diversion, and if I'm right that the bulk of them are coming here he'll be able to send a large enough force to relieve Northwatch and come on to us."
While Vanget was thinking about it Kel looked at the King. "Sire, I notice you haven't mentioned the forces coming from the eastern borders. How many and where are they?"
He grimaced. "Fewer and farther than I'd intended by now, Lady Keladry. There seem to have been severe delays."
"In no state to march at speed delays? Or mysteriously broken bridges delays?"
His gaze sharpened. "Both, I'm afraid. You expected that too? I made sure Runnerspring didn't know about those orders."
"Word might have leaked, but it wouldn't have had to once Maggur knew you were coming. He's doing or dying, and however vile he's not a fool. If he wins here he'll be heading south so he'll have planned to block or slow the eastern border forces. And they've dealt with little more than bandits for a decade so it's no wonder they can't pack up and march at the speed you hoped. Frankly, sire, it's the same mistake you once made with the Own's First." Her tone was thoughtful but there was a nasty silence. "We just have to make sure it doesn't have the same results, and we need to be about it. They'll all be waiting by now."
"Who'll be waiting, Kel?" Raoul fed her the line, voice ironic.
"Everyone. It's Imbolc morning, and I'm not going to begin slighting the gods now. The Councillors were woken a half-hour back and we're expected. After that there's a would-be fief to inspect, in the first place physically—Turomot looked up procedure for me and we shan't be skimping. But gods come first."
The King might have objected but Alanna steered him out, and the others let Kel herd them after; she could tell Wyldon was suppressing a smile and Raoul wasn't bothering to, though Vanget was still fretting. The scene outside sobered them all, for everyone was assembled save skeleton watches, with the best part of nine companies drawn up as well as more than a hundred other soldiers, escorts and veterans; civilians and immortals massed round them—but it wasn't just the sight that impressed, or even the Stone Tree Nation on the roofs despite Barzha's and Hebakh's absence. New Hopers had, understandably, come to take the gods' propitiation earnestly, and the combination of blunt belief and imminent action had pervaded visiting companies. The scale and nature of New Hope, the presence of immortals as well as stories of visiting dragons and griffins, had worked on them, and the arrival of the King-in-Council followed by assembly with massed immortals had tipped them into a different mode; there was a mix of expectation, excitement, dread, and resolution rising from the crowd that visibly hit the King and slapped Vanget from his preoccupation. Only Kel was unaffected and slipped through as they paused, not quite voluntarily, to take Alanna's place and steer Jonathan forward herself.
Imbolc was the ewes' milk festival, first sign of imminent spring lambs, and the sacrifice was eight tiny glasses the shepherds had coaxed from bleating mothers-to -be. Three stood with Adner and the senior cowherd, pigherd, poulterer, and seedman. Yamani custom dictated nursing women should add a sacrifice of milk, and Yuki had been determined to do so; nursing Tortallan women decided they liked the idea, and all were with Yuki on the terrace. Numbers were awkward, but as well as the glasses of individual milk each bore, Yuki and Ma Stockman carried second glasses and Kel would pour a seventh, larger glass for Lord Weiryn and the Green Lady that had been jointly filled. It had been a peculiar process but for Kel moving, confronting her with her desire to nurse a child in peace.
The Councillors were grouped to the left of the shrines, and Kel saw degrees of wonder on all faces, even Runnerspring's. He stood apart, flanked by guards, and scowled at her, but habitual disapproval didn't conceal his apprehension as he felt the force of the crowd and their reaction to her appearance. Others were openly staring, trying to take in what was happening, and Turomot had an expression that struck her instantly as fierce approval though she didn't know of what. Only those who'd stood at New Hope's shrines before—her father, Baird, and Terres—were unsurprised and composed in piety.
"Will you join your Councillors, sire? And you your fellows, my Lords, my Lady?"
"Of course, Lady Keladry." Jonathan of Conté looked at her through the shell of his kingship. "Have I any part to play?"
"Only to give thanks and pray, sire, unless you wish to speak." "Do you think I should?"
She gauged words. "I believe you would be better advised to learn New Hope's temper first, sire. The time for you to speak is not come."
"As you will, my Lady."
She doubted his complaisance would last but welcomed it and escorted him to the forefront of the guests, then strode to the centre before the shrines, calling Tobe and Irnai from where they'd been waiting with the immortals. What children represented mattered more than anything today and she meant to keep it that simple.
"New Hope, and all who have come here in our need, we stand at a turning-point. Samhain is the festival of the dead, when we look back, honouring what has been. Imbolc is the festival of the unborn, and we look forward, honouring what will be." She drew the children close. "We face a battle and have fears, but today we look beyond them with hope, to the world the lambs and our children will know, and even in our fear pray not for ourselves but for them. The Goddess, Lord Weiryn and the Green Lady, all the gods, have given us great bounty, and we thank them for it, asking it may continue for all the young of New Hope."
She and the children went to stand with the shepherd who would give ewe's milk to the Goddess, smiling reassurance at his nervousness. As he poured out the little glassful they bowed, hands on hearts, sensing everyone move with them, king or convict; chimes rang. Once the sound faded they went silently to Adner, standing before Lord Mithros's shrine, and to the others as the ceremony was repeated. When the senior poulterer, a greying woman from Goatstrack whom hens actually seemed to obey in some measure, and the seedman had poured together for Weiryn and the Green Lady, Kel motioned the nursing mothers forward. She received the glass she needed for herself from Ma Stonecutter and knelt, setting it carefully down and spreading her arms.
"High Ones, none can tell what will come to pass on the timeway. We know not all can survive but have done all we can to prepare, and believe we serve you as you would be served. I do not ask today for my safety, nor that of any adult—we make the troubles of the mortal realm and must abide them—but I do ask you all, by mothers' milk and all we have endured, to guard our children whatever may befall."
She gathered the glass, rose, and went forward with all the women. At the ends of the line Yuki touched milk to Lord Sakuyo's lips before pouring for him, then the Black God, and Ma Stockman poured for Lords Shakith and Gainel, while Ma Farmer and Ma Stonecutter poured for Lord Mithros and the Goddess. Each did so in a silence that grew deeper by the second, but when Kel poured for Lord Weiryn and the Green Lady, thinking of their joy in daughter and granddaughter, their shrines blazed with silver that did not blind her and all the great gods' voices sounded in a brief, deafening burst of sound within which each was yet distinct—battlecry and hounds, far hawks, soughing wind, and twining laughter. The release of tension was palpable and spread to the visiting troops and astonished veterans standing with Dom's company as the nursing mothers returned to husbands and babies. Kel watched Neal hand Yuki a beaming Ryokel, noticing no infant seemed disturbed by the sounds, and turned to King and Council; there was fear in Runnerspring's face and wonder in everyone's, though Alanna managed a wink.
"The ceremony is ended, sire, my Lords and Lady, so breakfast awaits, and then we must be about our business of inspection. His Grace of Wellam tells me tradition dictates we begin with
outlying structures and dwellings, circling in, so once we've eaten we will proceed to Spidren Wood where Quenuresh and Aldoven will meet us."
Kel had spent an interesting hour discussing with her father the niceties of the fact that as a Councillor she would be inspecting her own putative fief and existing military command. In other circumstances she would have recused herself, but had every intention of using her double position to maintain as much control as possible; as they were, it made urgent sense to undertake the part of the inspection outside the walls as rapidly as possible. Runnerspring might have objected had he been in any position to do so, and she'd planned to stick closely to the precedents Turomot's clerks had dug out to restrict his room for manoeuvre. Alanna had the King moving as Kel finished speaking, and she would have fallen in with her father, towards the rear of the party and well behind Runnerspring and his guards, if Turomot hadn't gravely offered his arm. He was ahead of Runnerspring and Kel hadn't wanted those eyes boring into her back but accepted his arm with a smile, feeling the weight he rested on her as he descended the steps.
"I wished to say, my Lady, that I thought that a fine ceremony even before the gods spoke. I was minded of words I once read to you about a knight's duty to all the realm." He fell silent, marshalling a thought. "I offered to be your second instructor because I care for sanctity of ritual and feared there were those who would disrupt it if they dared." His glance under lowered brows was keen. "And many were uncertain about you, as you must know, not trusting the Chamber as I did, nor my Lord of Cavall's assertion that you were the outstanding page of his tenure. Your qualities as a commander became evident long since, and I was content to have served the realm in instructing you. This morning I find myself proud to have done so."
Involuntarily her hand tightened on his arm. "It means a great deal to me that you say so, Your Grace." She swallowed. "I never desired to upset people, only to be a knight."
"And that may require setting people by the ears, as may rightful command." His voice dropped. "Do you truly believe Lord Carolan has sold himself to Maggur?"
"I do, Your Grace, though he will not have thought of it so. And Genlith and probably Torhelm."
"What can they hope to gain?"
"Power, but they'll have told themselves they're saving the Tortall they suppose themselves to believe in." She shrugged. "Lady Alanna thinks it goes back to support for Duke Roger and Princess Josiane."
He frowned, wrinkles on wrinkles. "That may be. But you sound as if you disagree."
"Not really, Your Grace, but my thoughts tend more to the erosion of relative privilege in a greater realm. King Jasson begot this problem when he conquered but did not truly settle the north, and it has grown ever since. It is also riding on events far older of which I am ignorant, save that they involve gods, dragons, and timeway. Whatever he believes, Runnerspring is a pawn in greater games than he has ever understood."
"After this morning I believe that, my Lady. And your thoughts run true, I fear—the southern and eastern lords have long used the Bloody Throne as a check on the north, preserving their wealth, and I can imagine Lord Carolan believing he yet does so."
Quiet as it was there was pain in his voice, as there had been in Wyldon's contemplating the treason of men he knew, but when they reached the messhall he spoke with conscious cheer. "We return to this splendid hall, my Lady." She let him hold the doors for her, returning the irony in his eyes with her own. "These pillars are truly godlit?"
"Lord Weiryn's gift. They tell the story of Haven and New Hope, Your Grace, where we must begin after we have eaten."
The excellence of the food had struck all first-time visitors at dinner, like the pillars and carvings, but in the shadow of Runnerspring's failure at the Honesty Gate and the hawk ringing the bell conversation had been subdued. By morning light, after the manifest blessing of the ceremony, even Runnerspring's guarded presence couldn't inhibit them and they chattered like children, offering pious or wary congratulations and questions by the volley. Her father, Alanna, and Terres intercepted many and she answered some, but what was needed was a briefing and as the flow of food slackened she sent up a prayer and stood.
Kel had considered the Eyrie with New Hope spread below, but there wasn't really room, and starting Turomot's or Nond's day with more than five hundred feet of steps wouldn't be wise. Dom had suggested using the pillars instead, and though Kel didn't like the way the panels exaggerated her role she'd been persuaded she couldn't modestly claim a fief. And the panels did tell the story she wanted in people's minds, for New Hope had risen from fallen Haven—which had not proven safe, as it should have. What was proposed as a fief had been profoundly shaped by her response to those facts, and as her fief those priorities would remain, so Councillors must understand what they were actually voting about. However murky his motives Runnerspring hadn't been wrong in principle, and she said so as Heliana distributed maps of the Greenwoods valley from Great North Road to Spidren Wood.
"Sire, my Lords and Lady, our morning's business is to visit Quenuresh but we will make a stop on the way, at what was once the home of many living here and is now our burial ground. And how that came to be matters, so if you'll follow me?"
Kel had imagined the inspection taking two days, but things intertwined to stretch it to a week. The King was in no hurry, and Maggur, who was, was slowed by heavy rain, wagons bogging on the ill-maintained Smiskir Road. Barzha and Hebakh found him there, as Kel predicted—a force estimated at eight thousand, with a score of giants, cavalry, regulars, conscripts, and a core of three thousand men who tasted to stormwings like Stenmun's soldiers; at Pakkai corner a thousand regulars carried on for Northwatch while the bulk turned east for the Vassa crossing nearest New Hope—where more would split off for Giantkiller. Having travelled that trail Kel knew how slow wagons would be as the sodden surface became poached. Giants would help, but it would be a while before they could cross the Vassa, and even Vanget had a grim satisfaction in the muddy picture Kel painted from Barzha's reports.
He'd become resigned, accepting the board was in motion and would have to play out. The western Scanran forces had scouts across the river, and without crossing into Tortall were effectively pinning the companies at Steadfast and Mastiff. In the east Lord Ferghal was sure that what he actually faced was a small number of good irregular cavalry striking hard at the most vulnerable targets they could find but not staying to fight. He had to leave his own best cavalry to respond, but knowing it as a gambit meant it could be refused and four thousand haMinchi troops were assembling to march hard for Northwatch once it was besieged. They and ten companies from its garrison would be the relieving forces for Giantkiller and New Hope, and if they could catch Maggur in the valley and close its southern end at the Great North Road … That thought had Vanget rubbing hands, but rain slowed Tortallans as well as Scanrans and there would be at least ten days, probably more, for New Hope to hold out.
Within the hiatus the inspection remorselessly expanded. Keeping Councillors together was like herding cats but they responded to Kel's adherence to tradition and became genuinely absorbed. Macayhill began it when, white and sweating, he bowed jerkily to Quenuresh and opened conversation about his fief's spidrens. Kel drew in Turomot on legalities, and her father on discussions with Vorgitarl, and others found themselves unwilling to miss anything, despite severe apprehensions. Kel had to admit the King had been magnificent, not showing a single tremor in greeting spidren leaders with royal courtesy, and implacable in introducing Councillors. Watching him, Kel found Alanna beside her.
"How's he doing that, d'you suppose? He's none too keen on spiders, and I thought he'd be sweating cobs."
"I don't know, Alanna. I'd expected the same. Unless … the elemental showed him Quenuresh when it showed New Hope. I bet he went back and asked it to stand him next to her for practice."
"Huh, that's a thought. I'll find out."
"Don't. Leave him the edges he has."
Alanna's look became a stare. "You are getting wise in your old age. Who've you been talking to about Jon?"
"Besides you? Thayet and Vanget."
"Heh. Good choices." Purple eyes rested on Kel. "In a way you've got him where you want him, haven't you?"
"He has himself where I will want him, assuming we both live through it. Tell me, would I be right to assume you and George met some new friends of Daine's?"
"You would. She told me you'd enlisted help."
"Yes. Myself, my captains, Fanche, Quenuresh, Barzha, and Var'istaan are in immediate contact. The others made it to Aly?"
"They will shortly. Tkaa's gone to Rajmuat."
"And you've no problem saying nothing to the King? Or to Jon?"
"None at all. Too big a temptation for both and a distraction besides. We'd better join the
fray."
By the time discussions wound down it was too late to do more that day and a very deliberate pace was set. A second day was spent going to meet Whitelist and looking at ogre-terraced slopes, where a formidable knack for dry-stone walling had the agriculturally minded asking serious questions. Scepticism led to swift demonstration of dry-stone arches and Kel gave up hope of moving on that day. At the same time she was kicking herself for having managed to categorise the ogres' role as brute labour, and offered Kuriaju an apology and an enquiry about ogre interest in architectural design.
The party was heavily guarded but Barzha confirmed no Scanrans had yet crossed the Vassa north of New Hope. Kel let Ettenor supply three squads—it was the First's formal responsibility to guard His Majesty's person—but deployed all of Mikal's men, leaving the alures light. Northwatch Fourteenth were honed to a fine edge and on their mettle, so snap and efficiency were overt but they sought to integrate the men of the First. Mikal still had them practicing archery
and slingwork in rotation, at marked ranges, and during those days she saw more than one Councillor look thoughtful at the accuracy demonstrated. The one alarm was also an impressive demonstration, when Cloestra reported a small group of mortals approaching under the trees. It turned out to be itinerant trappers, but the instant response of Mikal's men, needing no orders, spoke volumes. Interestingly, the trappers had learned of the King's presence from one of Aldoven's kin, whom they'd been meeting to discuss furs spidrens had no use for, and evidence of peaceful contact with treaty-bound spidrens was a powerful argument.
So were the trappers themselves, representing something southern lords had not seen for a long time, if ever. In the drier east, where fiefs clustered on tributaries of the Drell, and the Hurdik speakers of the badlands between were as driven to raiding as Scanrans, people of what Tortallans thought wilderness were known as trouble. In the wealthier, heavily settled belt south of Corus such marginal lifestyles barely existed, and the hostility of eastern lords to those they'd dispossessed was taken as true report, so Kel rammed home a lesson in loyal poverty. In Runnerspring her words roused only familiar contempt, but in the eyes of Disart, Nond, and Macayhill she saw bigotry found wanting against the evidence of carefully stitched clothing, neatly plaited hair, self-reliance, personal pride mingled with respect and curiosity. Riding back to New Hope the King came alongside.
"That was very impressive, Lady Keladry. I shouldn't be surprised any more at your forceful education of my Councillors, but I am."
"Good." He blinked and she gave him a smile she almost meant. "You didn't expect a smooth ride while Lord Sakuyo's dancing, did you, sire? The best jokes always catch the jokers."
"Explain, please. If you would."
"I'm not sure I can. It's not just Yamani thinking, it's … I don't know, a way of living with what I know without screaming."
"Useful." He was serious, but so was Kel. "In any case, thank you. You've opened eyes. Thayet and I will be able to build on that."
"Yes, you will. But you could do with a new architect, sire. Did Her Majesty talk to you about the lesson of the self-defence classes?"
"If you mean teaching women to defend themselves rather than trying to guard them." He frowned. "You connect that to the trappers?"
"They don't want charity or to be supervised, nor to dwell in a nice, safe city, but they do want to be able to better themselves. Which is impossible while the Guilds restrict membership to rich middlemen and make sure profit never comes to those it depends on. Talk to Idrius Valestone —he'll be bending the others' ears this evening."
"My power over the guilds is limited."
Kel swallowed exasperation. "So try influence, sire. You can throw royal weight behind the Craftsbeings' Guild, and endorse a co-operative, profit distributing model. Or must that wait on Roald and Shinko?"
"Ouch." His quizzical rue made Kel like him more than for a long while. "Why did anyone think you reticent, my Lady? Have you always taken that Yamani mask off like this in private?"
That was a good question, Kel thought. "Not really. Even with friends I was guarded—too
much so, looking back, but I had no command to offset being The Girl and no grasp of the politics that comes even with friendship when everyone's looking at you."
"I know about that one. But you have that grasp now, by Mithros."
"No—by the Black God, the Hag, and the Goddess. And Lord Sakuyo's laughter. And by you, who have thrice given me no choice but to grasp it, like the wrong end of a morningstar."
When he met her eyes he was flushed. "I deserve that, as Thayet told me. The first time was your probation?" She nodded. "And Torhelm and now? With Rathhausak in there too, though Haven wasn't my doing in the same way?"
"More or less, sire, but it doesn't matter. It may again, if you and I both survive what's coming. But we can cross that bridge when we must." She thought she heard a hawk cry but nothing was visible and New Hope was close. "And forgive me, but Her Majesty said I should if necessary order three soldiers to sit on you to prevent you exposing yourself foolishly to combat. Am I going to have to?"
He laughed. "No, I promise. Thayet gave me that lecture at great length. Shinko was worse, and I will be good."
He went on being so, and Kel was easier when the inspection moved within the walls. If anyone had told her a tour of New Hope could take two days she'd have thought them drunk, but when it took fully half-an -hour to reach the Eyrie, and the visit produced from an incredulous Vanget peering though a spyglass a demand to know how in Tortall she'd built an abatis on top of a cliff, things didn't speed along. She hadn't anticipated that many Councillors would regard the hoist to the clifftop as a toy and be eager to try it. The ogres had taken to the device, fixing wheels to the side of the platform nearest the rock and doing something clever with pulleys that had had carpenters taking careful notes. Even so, with two soldiers hoisting at most three Councillors it would take for ever; muttering 'funfunfun' and hearing a squeak of amused agreement, Kel asked Kuriaju if the ogres might provide muscle power, which meant four Councillors rising faster at shorter intervals. It also meant she had no excuse not to go up herself, a journey she'd sincerely hoped never to make again. When she joined the Council peering at the abatis—even here Runnerspring had guards—her tight stomach made her brusque in explaining, but the silence when she finished restored her good humour. When the King warily asked if she could expand on 'then he trimmed the crags' she led them to a vantage point, sliding her arm through Turomot's to lend him support on the awkward slope, and pointed out what Diamondflame had done.
"Just like Lady Skysong lighting rock, for those who've seen that, but a lot more oomph." She grinned at Numair. "Diamondflame said he was sorry she missed the show. Did he say anything back in Corus?"
The mage grinned back. "He did, Kel." His hands moved against his black robe. "Kitten was very jealous."
And had, Kel realised, seen a darking show of events. "So she should be. It was fun."
"Lots." Numair's eyes were mischievous. "I'm jealous myself. Was he supporting himself magically when he pulled trees out of the landslip?"
"Oh yes. He perched to do the crags, but just hovered for that." "I knew stormwings could but wasn't sure about dragons." "Live and learn, eh?"
"It's all very well you and Numair joking, Lady Knight, but why should that dragon do such a thing for you? It's a horribly powerful and dangerous beast and you speak of it as a friend."
"For me, Lord Carolan? Not so—or only in part, as one who cares for Lady Skysong's interests. Dragons are unfailingly conscientious about their obligations, I find." She doubted he felt the shot but others did. "As to your insinuation, I'd hesitate myself to presume on the friendship of a being so superior, but gladly acknowledge his kindness. I believe Lord Diamondflame's concern was for the griffins, whom he recognises as kin, for our agreement regarding defence of the cliffs was compromised by the landslip, and they appealed for assistance in keeping its letter. Griffins are particular that way. And while I doubt this will assuage your contempt for a being who has lived more centuries than you have years, Lord Diamondflame said dragons' interests here were aligned with gods', a rare event since the Godwars." She gestured to the formidable, cragged escarpment Diamondflame had left. "And what does it matter? If the dragons desired to harm us none but gods could stop them—but why should they? Lord Diamondflame fought alongside us before, and visits Corus in peace. Now he has gifted New Hope protection in its need, and you suspect his motives? I am reminded, Lord Carolan, of why you alone stand under guard—that you could not honestly say you meant none at New Hope harm. Should I think you want it to fall?" He hadn't seen it coming and she took the moment. "If I send the guards away, so you stand here with only your King and peers to hear, will you speak truly? What was your liegeman doing at Tirrsmont, and what harm do you wish whom here?" She was aware of pressure somewhere. "I do not think you will have another chance to step back from the brink you stand on."
He didn't hear the hawk crying over the fin. "I don't answer to you."
"You answer to us collectively, Runnerspring, as we all do." Nond's voice was sharp. "And Mindelan's questions are good ones."
"You also answer to the law, my Lord, however little you like it." Turomot sounded bleak. "And you answer to Us, Lord Carolan."
"I have nothing to answer, sire." His bitterness was evident. "I trust no silver-clawed monster, and I wish the Lady Knight and the whoredom she represents to the deeps of the sea."
Kel swiftly raised a hand at his guards' movements. "Easy, lads. Sticks and stones. He'll answer to the Black God when his time comes. And meantime you stick close."
"Lady Kel." They fell again to usual alertness, faces hard.
"Thank you. Hate me as you will, Lord Carolan, you'll keep a civil tongue in my command or be gagged. The offer was truly made, and truly spurned. Don't ever tell us you had no choice."
For once she blessed Junior as he swooped down to see what the mortals were about. He was wary of the noble crowd but when she stood apart landed to trot over with a squawk, and she knelt to scratch his head.
"They're admiring your parents' and Lord Diamondflame's work."
He seemed satisfied, preening, and kept pace with the platform twice as it carried Councillors down again before circling away to see what else might be happening. Kel distracted herself on the way down by travelling with the King and Vanget, explaining that once arrows were flying His Majesty's place would be in—she had the ogre pause—the lookout, there; the platform would be waiting by the overhang.
"You can see what's happening, and to use the Dominion Jewel if you must, but you're sheltered from just about anything. If the walls are breached we should be able to hold the caves, and if we can't the platform will get you to the clifftop. Unship it behind you or cut the ropes and nothing that doesn't fly can get you. Stormwings will take you wherever you decide."
"How?"
"Net. It needs multiple carriers. Ask Numair—he and Daine did it in the Divine Realms. Lady Maura's done it too, I believe."
"Very well." He scowled. "More promises to Thayet?" "And Shinko and Roald. And the realm."
"Quite right, Kel." Vanget's scowl was fiercer. "And you, sire, you've got me grateful for stormwing aid, so you heed what you're told. If it happens, get to Ferghal—he can get you south."
"Yes, yes."
Kel said no more, and with everyone down there was time only for the gatehouse, western alures, and north tower before the greyness of Nond's face made a stop at the infirmary sensible. While Yuki, carrying a burbling Ryokel, showed them around, Neal and Baird saw to the elderly lord, and Kel resigned herself with incredulity to a two-day tour.
Next day she dealt with the remainder of the buildings as briskly as she dared, pausing only over wood and craft shops serving as the Guild's main workplace. Even there she didn't linger, forestalling questions with a promise that the matter of the Guild would be tackled in due course. But the cave system consumed the morning, and heading for the corral after lunch Geraint's bridge occasioned a full hour's delay while sweating guards were obliged to demonstrate it no less than four times. Wyldon didn't help by bringing in his ravine-bridge, and when Raoul added the portcullis-and-drawbridge system it served only to shift them from watching one to watching the other with equal fascination. Funfunfun, apparently, especially the portcullis, and regarding them as children helped Kel's patience. At least Nond and Turomot could sit, and others were attracted by the design of barbican and killing field, then by realisation that a third of the men on duty were mage-marked convicts and the rest included their escorts and variously injured veterans.
Kel spoke to the Mindelan men on duty, and could hear other lords receiving positive reports from their own troops. Dom didn't need to expound his defences—his men did it for him, on the alures and in the stableblock, where massed horseflesh—with a proprietary Peachblossom adorned with sparrows and accompanied by Jump—had Wyldon looking as happy as Kel had seen him for a while. The assembled warhorses made a formidable squadron, and the sally force's three hundred represented a careful selection. With all the visitors there were another hundred horses stalled here, some high-bred for riding rather than war, and a bustling set of ostlers and duty soldiers tending them, but Peachblossom ruled this domain with a strong sense of duty. Kel did catch him eyeing Runnerspring, and stood scratching his poll until the gelding snorted and slobbered on her shoulder.
"The day's coming, boy. Soon now."
Her voice was soft but Dom, who knew that look of Peachblossom's, heard her. "Problem, Kel?"
"Nothing new, Dom. We'll see."
She hadn't seen him privately since the Councillors arrived, her evenings tied up with individual meetings they sought to canvass her views on various matters, practical or abstract. She understood that she was also being inspected, but pursuit of the refugees had made her priorities and character clear, and after a while she realised they already accepted her as a power in the realm but wanted detail on the map. With the physical inspection complete attention turned to people, but things didn't speed up. She'd arranged for those willing to become her liegers to present themselves to the Council on the terrace—but she'd been thinking of former Havenites and a few more among recent arrivals. It didn't work out like that, initially because she had to arrange rotating relief for almost all the convicts, each careful to make the caveat concerning further service they would owe the army in peacetime. Uinse and Dom made declarations and were joined by a surprising—to her—number of Brodhelm's and Mikal's men, with more from among the fifty-odd veteran volunteers. Their presence had been another issue that set thoughtful looks in Vanget's and Wyldon's faces, and the mixed forces in the corral had focused the question even for non-military Councillors. The first veterans' straightforward answers as to why they had come to New Hope brought direct enquiry from Nond, and Kel shrugged.
"It's my duty to guard His Majesty and all of you here, my Lord, and I did not have the men to do so against substantial attack. Our resources are stretched on this border, so in addition to the companies transferred for the occasion I recruited where I could."
"Hmph. These men are saying they expect to fight. And soon." "Of course they do, my Lord. So should you."
Nond subsided to chew on it, glancing poisonously at Runnerspring, and Raoul leant forward cheerfully.
"Out of interest, Kel, are they being paid?"
"Expenses and a small purse, my Lord."
"And who's covering that?"
"The Crown Prince and me."
The King raised a hand. "I shall be reimbursing Lady Keladry."
"I believe you've already made a contribution, sire, through your quartermasters. Veterans do have a way with them."
The King's smile was austere but she could see Jonathan's behind it, and commanders were grinning, as were veterans. "Even so, Lady Keladry. Your appeal to these men was well thought on, and what you say about capacities We have neglected is on the agenda of Our Army Council."
That she gave the thanks it deserved and the point was developed in testimony veterans gave as Councillors fired what they thought tough questions about disability. Dom was present, listening with captain's ears to men he commanded, but his professional mask dissolved as he found himself commended in unusual terms. Kel's lesson about ramps had sunk deep, and he'd been thorough in accommodating what he could and being ruthless about realities. The one-eyed archer had a position hard by the corral gatehouse, where his blind side was protected and rate of fire at a premium. The men with gammy legs no worse than Dom's had places on the alures, and in four cases he'd paired men so each guarded the other's weakened side; men whose lameness was more severe had been assigned stations in stables or tunnel to free haler men of the Second. A man with a hook instead of a hand could still pull the pin that would drop the portcullis in
emergency—no slippy, sweaty fingers to worry about, as he observed—and all the men with lesser disabilities, or who had retired as age caught up with them, added trained bows and swords.
The veterans were followed by immortals, connecting next morning to Idrius's presentation concerning the Guild. Most civilian lords were highly doubtful of its structure but Kel was blunt about the twofold purpose, protecting immortals and ensuring revenues were distributed, not hoarded. Turomot probed legalities, declaring them unorthodox but permissible, and her father added the foundation of a Mindelan branch, commenting on the role visible, consistent fairness played in making a treaty possible. Disart played into Kel's hands with a querulous complaint about the greed of New Hope in hogging revenues from immortal products and she felt her temper snap taut.
"In so far as it happens at all, the present mechanism for transferring wealth from rich south to poor north is warfare. How much has this one cost so far, sire?"
The King blinked. "About a million gold nobles."
"And you buy coffins and pensions. Instead of complaining, my Lord, try being grateful someone is trying to find an alternative that supplies you with insulation, stoneware, and icelights instead of dead bodies and increased taxes."
She saw him stiffen with outrage but the king and others had been equally struck by wider vista and new argument, and to her father's amusement Kel proceeded to explain exactly how systematic retention of profit from northern trade in Corus led to the periodic need to expend millions of nobles preventing Scanrans rectifying things their own way. Master Orman had supplied her with a range of facts to volley, and when observations about Scanran economy were questioned she whistled up Stanar and his fellows to expound the reality. The King was by then as amused as the military commanders and those who understood the north, but genuinely interested to hear from Scanran rank-and-file, while Stanar and his friends seemed to feel that after Lady Kel had arrived by dragon having the Tortallan king interrogate them was no more than prisoners in fairyland might expect.
Concerned for Adner, who had been waiting his turn for six days, Kel swept on to food. Genlith's shipments had to be mentioned but she did so neutrally, evidence of Scanran need, moved to the divine blessings New Hope had received, and let Adner roll out impressive production figures and yields he believed the valley could sustain if fully cultivated. Those came as a shock, and if ogre-style terracing could be extended in the parallel valleys as well as along the Greenwoods New Hope could become a net food exporter on a considerable scale.
"And that food will mostly go north, my Lords. Bluntly, hungry Scanrans won't stay in Scanra but better fed ones may. King Jasson pushed too many people too far north into land that's too marginal. New Hope can make a difference, and getting the Vassa flats properly cultivated on both sides has to be a priority."
More blinkered Councillors who'd managed to suppose until they arrived that they were undertaking a formality had realised as soon as they met Quenuresh that far more was at stake, but Kel wasn't sure that even the King had grasped what she would be seeking to do with New Hope, and men like Terres and Harailt, though supportive, had tended to think in terms of what she'd do and mean in Corus. But Vanget, holding his brother's proxy, Wyldon, Alanna, Raoul, Ennor, her father, and Numair had realised that giving her power in the north and expecting her to grow fat on it in Corus was foolish. Kel hadn't asked for power but if they insisted on giving it she would use it as she saw fit, and a fief in the middle of this border was an obligation to tackle the problem systematically. New Hope had reconfigured the defences, other realities had to flow into place, and if all the King-in-Council wanted was the status quo they could whistle for yesterday. She said so bluntly, leaving them no room to claim they hadn't known what they would be getting if
they made her Keladry of New Hope, and managed a good exit line when Brodhelm appeared, politely indicating he needed a word.
"Duty calls, sire, my Lords and Lady, so I must ask you to excuse me. But the question's simple—thinking of all the realm, not only our own parts of it, do we want a New Hope? Or will old and selfish cynicism do?" She looked at Runnerspring, who sneered back. "Lord Carolan can tell you about that."
The collective wince made him drop his eyes but not before she'd seen fear and some very different hope from her own. Kel was increasingly puzzled by what he expected to happen, even supposing he trusted Maggur's word, but Brodhelm's business was confirmation from Barzha that the Scanran force had begun to cross the Vassa, and revealed powerful magecraft— red-robe at least—in constructing a bridge of lashed boats. They would be across more quickly than Kel had thought, and with better roads on the Tortallan side would be at New Hope in two days; Barzha and Hebakh would check on the western force before returning, and Kel asked Cloestra to monitor the larger force's progress. Without the Eyrie they'd have needed to post human scouts too, but with wagons, giants, and that many men the Scanrans would be on the road, and there was more risk than gain in putting anyone outside the safety of the walls. All livestock was in, and there wasn't a great deal to do but Kel did start Brodhelm and other captains on final checks and battening-down. Then she went to tell the King-in-Council who was coming to call.
A grim Council spent the next day in closed session discussing boundaries. Kel recused herself, having refused Runnerspring's demand his guards be excluded. "You wish New Hope harm, Lord Carolan, carried an incapacitating poison, and a powerful enemy nears our gates. You go nowhere without guards."
Disart and Macayhill might have objected but Vanget's emphatic agreement and the King's clear disinclination to countermand her order made them think better of it. Neither in law nor by custom was she obliged to recuse herself, and imminent Scanrans concentrated minds wonderfully on demands of security. Kel was curious as to what they might think an appropriate size, and if they'd be willing to exceed the natural boundaries of the valley, but was finding it hard to think beyond the coming battle and knew her perspective afterwards would be very different. In any case, the King seemed to think it helpful if she gave them space to debate, and there was much else she should be doing.
She spent the morning virtuously clearing paperwork not even imminent battle seemed to avert and speaking to visiting troops. By lunchtime she'd had enough virtue and as soon as the Council returned to its deliberations made her way to the corral. By strange coincidence Dom was off duty, his sitting-room faced the cliff, it had been too long and danger was close. To be naked with him in daylight, knowing other people were close by, was startlingly different and they found an intensity that filmed them with sweat. Wanting more, she understood the desperate affirmation in the sweetness, and blindly moving above him didn't mind her tears; nor did he ask, holding and kissing her as they dried. It might be dereliction but it left her relaxed and honed again, rebalanced after days of political prudence and persuasion, and the fluid, precise speed of her pattern dance next morning won knowing looks from Yuki and Alanna as well as the latter's whistling admiration.
She could draw on that inner calm for the day's business, which was, ridiculously, the
actual Imbolc session. There were boundary disputes, extensions where new ground had been broken, and an oddity involving a man who had left the same fields to at least three people in as many contradictory and unwitnessed wills—and though all had clear recommendations from Duke Gareth based on investigation, and the only full set of papers to have come north was hers, it was right that each be addressed properly. Formal votes took time, the oddity was a hopeless tangle, and it wasn't until late morning they came to the heading New Fief. The atmosphere tightened as the king sat forward.
"My Lords, my Ladies, be clear we are deciding two matters in principle—whether New Hope should become a fief and if so whether Lady Keladry be considered liegelady designate. I remind you her application has yet to be formally lodged, and that after your varied advice yesterday I made no decision about boundaries. But given that we face imminent battle I make clear I am not today considering what guerdon may be due Lady Keladry in respect of her astonishing service during this war as a soldier and diplomat to immortals. All else aside, that service continues, and its proper guerdon increases daily."
Kel didn't care for the sound of that but wasn't going to argue until there was something to argue with, and nodded thanks with her Yamani mask. She was sure her father and Raoul suppressed smiles; what the King or anyone else but Runnerspring thought she couldn't guess.
"So. I am happy to tell you, Lady Keladry, that I took advantage of your absence yesterday to register votes, and with a single exception in each case my Councillors agreed New Hope should become a fief, and be yours. We add a formal statement of warm, not to say astonished congratulation on all you have created here." Kel's stomach tightened. "Frankly, my Lady, even knowing you and New Hope have the gods' blessings this week has been a revelation and, for all but one who had not been here before, a humbling experience." Runnerspring's face was immobile but the King was smiling ruefully. "The power you have forged here is palpable, and ennoblement will be a formality. The reality exists, with what is already a fief in all but name."
Kel wasn't touching that with a long stick, and he wasn't done.
"We will also issue a directive to all Our liegelords, under Crown powers of treaty, requiring them to seek agreements with all immortals in their domains, on the model of your treaties here, and until laws can be passed to that effect We mandate by royal fiat that trade in all and any goods produced by immortals, or with immortal power and aid, shall be the exclusive purview of the Craftsbeings' Guild. Reciprocally, We direct you, as acting Guildmaster, to assist Our liegelords in obeying Us swiftly as best you may."
That would drive thoroughgoing change and all except Runnerspring seemed to endorse it
… the enormity of what the week had achieved rushed in on Kel. Could Runnerspring's intentions have been reversed any more comprehensively? Yet his face didn't suggest awareness of utter defeat, and no decision meant much until implemented—but unless New Hope fell this one would be, and the image in her mind was of the timeway narrowing, another set of possible futures falling away and events that would be redistributing themselves while Lord Sakuyo laughed and laughed. Did her father hear him? Or the King?
"The timeway rejoices." She didn't know she'd spoken aloud until she saw Jonathan's puzzlement but her attention was arrested by a horn-call from the Eyrie and as it flicked upwards at the end she was on her feet. "Excuse me, that needs investigating. Vanget, no-one leaves until I return."
The door had swung shut behind her before anyone spoke and then it was Runnerspring, in a jeer. "So she gives you orders, Vanget? And thinks you can give them to all of us?"
Vanget kept his temper though his burr thickened. "She commands here, Runnerspring, if you haven't noticed—and everyone who outranks her is here as her guest, not in chain of command. Besides, in her shoes I'd give the same order—she's responsible for our safety and the last thing she needs if action's starting is us wandering about like geese. Which is why, sire, my Lords, we're staying put as instructed." He shot Runnerspring a look of contempt.
"Of course we are." The King's brooked no disagreement. "But that wasn't a reaction to an expected alarm, I think."
"No." Alanna's face was tight. "That inflection meant something to Kel, but I don't know what—she has a whole set of calls." Purple eyes went to Runnerspring's guards. "Do either of you know that one?"
"Large armed party in the upper valley, my Lady."
"The upper valley?"
"South of the fin, my Lady. Probably off the Great North Road."
"Which is the wrong place for Scanrans." Alanna shrugged, looking at Runnerspring's faint smile. "No way of knowing until Kel gets back, unless Lord Carolan would care to enlighten us."
"I, Pirate's Swoop? Why should I know anything?"
"Well now, my Lord, that's an interesting question." Kel came forward, swinging the door shut behind her. She had needed only a private space to be shown by Ebony what Seed could see through the sentry's spyglass from the Eyrie. "One reason you might know about the party of five or six hundred mixed cavalry approaching down valley is that among their leaders is a knight displaying your device. Those of Genlith, Torhelm, Groten, Heathercove, and Marti's Hill are also visible." She slipped through the corner gap between tables and leaned against her empty place, contemplating him. "Do tell, my Lord."
"I know nothing of it, and if I did I'd not tell you."
"Wrong on both counts." Something in her voice made him shift in his seat. "Among the cavalry are a company of Scanran regulars. A knight bearing your device is in arms against his King and colluding with the enemy. Are you telling us Sir Garvey has the wit to commit such treason without your orders? Please."
"It's no treason!"
Too late he realised her stinging contempt had been deliberate and flushed, but he'd opened the way. Kel leaned back. "Isn't it? Then perhaps you'd explain how collusion with the enemy in wartime, with the King's person at risk, is loyal to Tortall."
"It's exactly loyal to Tortall, you stupid woman." He gave her a look of infinite contempt before switching it to the King. "Not the mongrel version you've wished on us, sire, but one we can be proud of. One without women pretending to knighthood and corrupting the Chamber, free of monsters she wants to be friends with." He glared scorn. "I couldn't believe you fools yesterday, bleating agreement. Recruit spidrens and build walls with ogres? It's obscene and you don't even see it any more, any of you, even with a half-breed prince married out—are we to have a king who's barely a quarter Tortallan? And live with monsters? Swive 'em too, maybe? You've let one crazy bitch bring down Tirrsmont and Torhelm, and said nothing. And now you want to reward her? Tortall's being dragged to the sewer, some of us have had enough, and if you hadn't
noticed, Vanget, you're trapped here and you all deserve what you'll be getting. You especially, Cavall—prosing principles but letting the bitch through, and promoting her. Faugh." Wyldon's face was unmoving and Runnerspring's gaze went back to the King, gloating triumph replacing contempt in his voice. "Your time has run out, you spineless fool." He waggled a hand, as if being judicious. "There are advantages in continuity and you have Jasson's blood, little as you show it, so divorce that foreign bitch and get a proper Tortallan heir, and you can keep that debating stool you call a throne until he's of age. Or go into exile in Carthak with your other foreign son and I'll call it good riddance. Your father was a dithering fool and you're weaker—even he'd never have stood to be ordered about by a woman, nor for these monsters." His eyes came back to Kel. "And as for you, Lady Knight—what an obscene stupidity that is"—his voice was vicious—"even with your monsters and cripples you've nothing like enough men to keep a real army out, and you've no idea what's coming at you. New Hope will fall, and that will be that. I'll give you one piece of advice, though." Malice blazed in his eyes. "Maggur wants you burned, as you burned Rathhausak, and he'll not be kind first, so if you're sensible you'll make sure you're not alive when his men come through that gate."
Throughout his rant the other Councillors had sat in silence, shock and rage developing in their faces as they absorbed his words. The King's silence had held them immobile but as Runnerspring's abuse became personal the spell broke. Kel's voice cut across the shouts.
"What a lot of things you choose to ignore, my Lord." Runnerspring recoiled where he sat. The Councillors had heard that dead flat voice twice before, and fell silent but Kel barely noticed in the icy, roaring rage that clamoured to possess her. "Beginning with the fact that you're a confessed traitor under arrest. Keep your advice. All I require from you is whatever you know about the forces massing outside my gates."
"Piss on you, bitch. You'll find out soon enough."
"Yes, I will." She turned to Turomot, seeing his face blank with shock. "Your Grace, do you concur that Lord Carolan is a manifest and self-confessed traitor to his King and his realm?"
The old man blinked once. "He is undoubtedly so, my Lady."
"And so, though noble, liable to torture."
He blinked again. "Yes."
Kel's head swung. "Do you forbid it, sire?"
Jonathan shook his head, voice hard. "No. We must know what he has done."
"So." Somewhere within her rage Kel thought of Rogal as she took her shuriken from her belt, aware of eyes fixed on her every movement. "Lord Carolan, do you remember when we first met?"
His bravado was ebbing as her voice continued flat, and she wished desperately her father was not present, nor Raoul. Nor Wyldon.
"Vaguely." He managed a sneer. "You ran away, I recall."
"You recall wrong, but you were drunk and revealingly crude." Her voice sounded far away and the shukusen swung from her hand. "Since then, my Lord, wondering how a man as ill-minded as your son comes to be, I have made it my business to listen to people who know you, and they all say the same. Beneath your obsessions with pride, wealth, and race, your daily habit is to grope, ogle, and swive women, willing, bought, or forced. So that's where we shall begin."
She snapped open the shukusen, tilting it so light gleamed on Yamani steel. "Lord Carolan, hear me well. I ask what you know of the forces massing here, and the plot you have laid. At the first refusal I will cut off your left hand, at the second your left eye, at the third your pizzle and stones." In the horror she turned to Baird, voice never wavering. "Your Grace, I must ask you to be prepared to stem the bleeding, if necessary. Not pain, of course. The shukusen will leave a neat stump."
He looked ill but took a deep breath, nodded, and rose. "My Lady."
Runnerspring's eyes widened as Kel moved forward to stand before him and Baird came round the table to flank her, drawing up his sleeves.
"You can't do this!"
She pinned him with her eyes, no more than an enemy in the way of her glaive. "Wrong again. You are a confessed traitor, without standing in law, and you threaten my people. I will do anything it takes to defend them and I bear the Black God's grace from his own lips. I need knowledge of your treason, now, and I will have it." If Runnerspring doubted her he was the only person who did, and she looked at Uinse's men behind him, as stiff as boards, eyes intent. "Hold him down, please, hands on the table."
Heavy hands bore down on Runnerspring's shoulders and each guard leaned forward to pin his forearms. The projecting hands reminded Kel of starfish on the beach at Mindelan, and she turned the shukusen, seeing the trajectory needed and abstractly regretting the use she found for Shinko's beautiful gift. It came to her that neither fierce Cricket nor the Crown Princess would object, and she tightened stomach muscles as she sent up a prayer from the clear mind inside the rage and fear compelling her.
"Last chance. Who comes to my gates with what purpose?"
He wasn't a coward and attempted defiance, though his eyes were screaming. "You haven't the gu—"
If she'd slammed the shukusen down it would have gone through the table, but only its sharpened vanes pierced the wooden surface as the same liquid movement she'd found in her pattern dance brought the fan to a precise halt. Baird's green magic flared around it, and when the rising fan flicked hand from forearm no blood spilled. She saw agony and shock in Runnerspring's eyes and while her mind wailed behind blessed glass her rage bored into him as his world and self buckled. The razor-edged extending vane of the shukusen slid smoothly to a halt where he could just focus on it, and slowly forward. Her gaze locked with his and his eyes bulged terror as he tried to focus on her and on the blade an inch from his eye.
"Second time of asking. What do you know of this attack?"
Everything she had went into her voice and she saw it break him as she heard his babble begin and twitched the shukusen aside, indicating to the soldiers that they could ease their grips. Both were white-faced but she saw nothing in their looks to match the revulsion in her mind.
Runnerspring barely seemed to notice Baird as he continued to stream green fire into the raw, bloodless stump, frowning concentration. The severed hand was leaking, Kel saw, as the controlling part of her mind listened to the skeltering tale.
The knights riding for New Hope were Garvey, Guisant, Ansil and Arknor, Belar, and Quinden, and Genlith was with them, and Torhelm's faithful steward, and they had been waiting north of Bearsford with nearly five hundred men—liegers and hired—in case the King fled south before Maggur could invest New Hope, and met up with a Scanran company sent with the force
besieging Mastiff, and the valley was sealed, and they should surrender because Maggur had mages who could beat Numair and engines no walls could resist, so it didn't matter he wouldn't be able to drug the gateguards as he'd promised, and Maggur would win, he had to, but he only wanted the woman who'd killed Blayce and burned Rathhausak raped and dead, as anyone would, and some of the lands Jasson had conquered, only as far as Trebond, worthless places anyway, he was welcome, it was a small price and a smaller, southern Tortall with a new ally on its northern border would be better off and could again become what it should be, without the unnatural women of such places as Trebond and Mindelan, Sarain and Yaman.
The frantic speech trailed into silence and Kel had to lock her throat against rising bile. "You believed Maggur only wanted me dead and the northern third of the realm? Goddess, you really are stupid." Her throat still tight she looked at Numair, face as blank as rock. "Were you able to make those doses?"
"Baird has them."
His voice was cold. She looked at the guards behind Runnerspring, whose eyes were glazing as Baird eased pain he hadn't stopped with the bleeding, and made herself speak briskly. "Lord Carolan is to be confined to the cell, and drugged. His Grace will supply dreamrose pills. He gets one meal a day and a pill, by force if necessary, until I say otherwise. No guards—once he's unconscious report to Uinse. He'll know what's happening by then." Ebony would be telling Seed.
"Lady Kel."
They saluted, lifted him, and went. After resting a hand gently on her shoulder for a moment, pity she couldn't bear in his green eyes, Baird followed and she turned to the King.
"I must ask you to excuse me for a moment."
She didn't wait on a reply but fled, just making it to the nearest privy before her stomach emptied itself in appalling heaves that left her white and sweaty. She took a moment to wipe her face and swill out her mouth, but there was no time for more and she straightened, squaring shoulders and ignoring whatever was behind glass.
"Ill?"
"No, Ebony. Not ill. Just sick to my stomach."
"You get secrets good."
"Yes, I did."
"Necessary."
"Yes. Not fun. Tell me what's happening south and north."
She listened, wiped her face again, and headed back. No-one seemed to have moved and she had the idea none had spoken in the minutes she'd been away, but the severed hand had, mercifully, vanished. She stood behind her chair, grateful to lean on it.
"Sire, my Lords and Lady. Lord Carolan is correct that we are besieged. The Scanran vanguard is in sight from the Eyrie and what I'll call Genlith's forces have crossed the stonebridge and are milling about. Our gates are shut." Her eyes shifted to Wyldon and she straightened. "My Lord, do you wish to assume command?"
"Certainly not, my Lady. I consider myself under your command for the duration."
"General—"
"No, Kel. We're all under your command here."
Disart sat up. "No offence, my Lady, but you are inexperienced yet. Vanget, surely—"
"Kel knows New Hope and its defences as no-one else." Raoul wagged a finger. "And I doubt she showed us everything. The odds are more even than Runnerspring thinks, and Maggur's going to take a lot of casualties." He tried a grin. "Besides, you've seen her command all week—d'you really think it's a good idea to try to stop her now?"
"But we're facing Tortallan troops, not Scanran rabble."
"Oh gods." The pain in Kel's voice snapped Disart's eyes to her. "Those Tortallans will be first to die, my Lord. Their value to Maggur is only as corpses drawing our teeth, and there is nothing for which I hate Runnerspring more. The danger is what you call Scanran rabble. But if I'm really in charge of this slaughter we need to be doing." She took a deep breath, marshalling thoughts. "Sire, the lookout post. Tobe will escort you. Vanget, with him please. Wyldon, Raoul, Alanna, join your companies, please, but you're all on the sally force roster. You too, Imrah, and with your escort squads in the corral, please. Numair, what did Runnerspring mean about Maggur having mages who could best you?"
"I don't know. If there's more than one red robe I'd be a fool to face them in open combat, but while I'm in and they're out there's not much they can do I can't neutralise."
"Could he have a black robe?"
Numair shrugged. "Not one who graduated."
"An immortal?"
"Only if it's a dragon. Or a new kind, I suppose."
"Right. Gatehouse roof, please, and Harailt, north tower roof—Ettenor's there. Draw mail and bascinets and remember what you can see can see you—our casualties will mostly come from arrow fire. Don't be among them. Your Grace of Wellam, Papa, my Lord of Nond, please take no offence if I ask you to go to the caves, and put yourselves at the disposal of Fanche. Your presence will reassure, and your swords strengthen the defences, should they be needed." Baird would go to the infirmary, which left five whose strengths she didn't know. "My Lords of Haryse, Frasrlund, Disart, Blue Harbour, and Macayhill, your best weapon, in a word?"
"Sword."
"Sword."
"Bow."
"Sword."
"Lance."
"Thank you. Bow and lance to the corral—lance for the sally squad. Swords to the north tower reserve, Sergeant Connac. Questions?"
Raoul's grin was genuine. "Not for you, Kel. See why she's in charge, Disart?"
Whether he did would have to wait, and with commanders up and moving Kel could chivvy everyone while asking the King, Vanget, and Numair to wait. Alanna and Raoul clapped her shoulder as they passed, but Kel was more stricken by Wyldon's awkward hand on her forearm and her father's wet face and intense hug before he followed Nond out. Var'istaan was waiting and she asked him in, seeing eyebrows rise. She knew her voice was very flat and couldn't help it.
"Sire, General Vanget, you're going to want to know what's going on and I'd be a fool to cut myself off from your advice, so I'm going to introduce you to someone. But you have to understand this being is a volunteer, not subject to treaty and not your subject, sire, but a resident of the Dragonlands. You can request but can't order." She looked at Var'istaan. "Thank you for agreeing, Var'istaan. Shale, please make yourself known. And you, Ebony."
She'd never been sure where the basilisk's darking was concealed but a patch of beaded hide over its shoulder flowed to the table and gathered itself, extruding a head as it lost the grey tinge and reverted to black. She felt Ebony extrude its head too.
"Hello. Me Shale."
"Hello. Me Ebony."
"Darkings!" The King's face showed surprise, rue, frustration, and avarice blending into admiration. "Where did you … how did you—"
"No questions, sire. Now be polite."
"Polite!" He shook his head. "Of course. Hello Shale, was it? And Ebony. I am Jonathan.
Jon."
"You king."
"For my penance. But another darking once called me Jon, when it called me anything, so I think you should too. And this is Vanget."
"You general."
"Yes. Hello." Vanget rubbed his chin. "These are the creatures that helped us in the Immortals War?"
"That's right. The Badger brought one with news Daine and Numair were alive, and it turned all its fellows that had been spying on us. They left with Lord Diamondflame after the war."
"And now they're back."
"Dragonlands boring. New Hope famous. We volunteer. Helping."
"And having fun, I expect."
The King's smile looked genuine and Kel liked him the better for it but couldn't respond.
"Yes, fun."
"Not fun today. Work." Ebony corrected Shale.
"No, not fun today. But the point is, sire, sir, you'll both be able to see what I can, with no magical drain, and if there's something I need to know you can tell me directly."
Ebony raised its squeak. "First walking men reach Spidren Wood."
"Thank you. Tell Brodhelm I'll be there directly. Shale, hide yourself on the King somewhere. Tobe will take you to the lookout post, sire, and make sure you're fed."
Around Var'istaan's bulk she watched her son lead her King and her commander, praying for his safety. Numair was still slumped in his chair and she drew breath painfully. "Numair?"
"Eh? Oh, yes. Can you spare one more minute, Kel?" Her name stopped her denial. "Only one, truly."
He stood, and to her surprise hugged her. "That was necessary, brutal, and efficient. I doubt you've ever done anything harder and I'm sorry I froze on you. The only people I've ever seen do such a thing enjoyed it. It sent me back."
Emotion returned to her and she swallowed hard. "I didn't."
"No, I know. And you'll hate yourself for a while, but don't ever think you're like the people who do enjoy it, Kel. They don't vomit afterwards. Now, where do I get this mail?"