Silver May Tarnish Page 12

  After that, we turned our attention to the houses. There was work aplenty to do there. Most had survived well their time abandoned, but Meive had not searched them before she left. In one I found a small store of coins the bandits had missed. They would go to help the dale and I believed the owner would not have protested that use. Meive came riding back after a day with her bees.

  “We need to move the hives. Where we left them was temporary. The hives must be better placed and in a higher pasture. But they do well and are happy. I have bespoken the queens. Should we be still away when the chill comes they will lead the swarms to the shrine.”

  “The hives are straw,” I said doubtfully. “Will they be undamaged after a Winter here?”

  “They are strongly made. They will last.” Meive was certain.

  We rode out the next day, and under Meive’s instructions I learned much of how to correctly place hives. The winged-ones hummed approval at last and one of the warriors settled on my shoulder. His wings brushed my cheek so that I was emboldened to reach up with a finger. I stroked his fur and marveled at the softness. His hum softened until it seemed as if he drowsed under my touch. Meive turned and laughed, but her gaze was warm on us.

  “Beware, Lorcan. They will have you do nothing else an you please them so well.”

  “I think it a small return.” I was serious. “They helped in my rescue, they give us food, they aid and guard. And,” I looked sideways at the warrior, seeing the faceted eyes, the short plush fur in glossy black, “they are beautiful.”

  I think she communicated my words to the winged-ones. As I spoke, others came to touch me with their wings. It was as if they caressed me in affection. I had never found bees frightening, and I knew these, though huge for their species, still meant me no harm. So I flinched not but reached out my hand, allowing them to settle in turn and be stroked. How long we shared friendship I do not know, but again I felt peace enter my heart. I marveled that they were so different, yet we could stand one with the other. It was a lesson I must remember.

  At last we had the hives where the queens wished. We rode home slowly, the warriors of the winged-ones circling high about our heads.

  “What of them when we ride away?”

  “They come.” Her tone was serene.

  “If they are seen they may bring us attention we do not wish.”

  “They know. They will not let themselves be seen unless we are alone.”

  I said no more. In truth, I did not mislike it that we would have such help. The bees could see where we could not. They could cover much ground and warn us of any who approached. At great need they could kill, as they had done to rescue me from Devol. I would feel happier that Meive traveled with me when she rode with such guardians as her wing-friends.

  We set out ten days later. I had given thought to our journey. I did not wish us to look so rich we should be a target, nor unarmed that we might be fair prey. Yet supplies we must have. Nor did I wish to be recognized by any who might have known me as Lorcan of Erondale. Before we rode out I again rinsed my hair with a wash of herbs Meive assured me would do as well as the market dyes. I had hair now of a darkish brown, and I had cut it in a plain sloping cut which ended square at the nape of my neck.

  So we rode steadily to the North and a little West. That first night as we camped Meive questioned me.

  “Where do we seek?”

  “I think it best we go far North. At least as far as Jurby before we turn for home again. See here,” I sketched with my finger in the dirt. “Here are the dales and the coast. Here the invaders landed and all through this portion of the land they laid waste to anything they found. It is here the people who survived may be most desperate. In some places the machines the invader used destroyed the very land. Fouling and burning. Erondale was one such dale so I know how little is left. We ride as far North as possible, then once we turn, we begin to seek out those who will risk a new dale. A new lord and lady.”

  I saw her look quickly at me, then aside. I said nothing. I had known her for my heart’s lady when first she stood before me, but I knew, too, that what one feels is not always felt by the other. I would show her I was not of the kind of some lords who deemed any woman not of noble blood to be fair game. I would woo her slowly. There was time. We were like to be gone from Honeycoombe many months. Mayhap even a year. Surely over so long I could incline her heart to mine.

  “I would go first to Tildale,” I continued. “My friend Aran lives there. If he will join us then we shall have a good sword and a valiant friend. He will know the dales about him and may be able to advise us whom else to speak to who may be interested.”

  I looked across the fire into her eyes. “There is something else. I am Lorcan of Erondale and my dale is no more. But within it still lies wealth.” Her eyes widened.

  “Aye, indeed. Long ago the Lord of Erondale did a service. For that he was given treasure by one of the Old Ones. Erondale’s lords since then have kept it hid, used it little and wisely. When Erondale fell that treasure was unfound. I was a child and knew not, but Berond, our master-at-arms who escaped with me, knew the secret and revealed it to me before he died. When the war was ended I rode to Erondale to see. The treasure lies there still, unless some other has come since last I rode by. I think it unlikely. The coin is well hid and secured. It is in silver coin mostly, with some copper and a little gold, a few gems.” I reached out my charm bag and spilled the contents into my palm.

  “See you. Here is what I carried against great need.” Among the pinches of dried herbs the gems and small gold coins glinted in the firelight. “Listen, Meive. If aught happens to me, let you take this and return to Honeycoombe with any who would come whom you trust. There is still wealth enough to aid in the rebuilding.” She nodded silently.

  “Good. As for Erondale we will pass by when we return.” I grinned darkly. “I have a plan whereby we may take much of the hidden coin with us then. None shall know what we have. I will buy supplies, none anywhere so much it arouses suspicion. Once we get them safely back to Honeycoombe, we can begin to rebuild. The people can live on what is purchased.” I remembered the many goats, smiled, and added, “And on goat stew,” while Meive chuckled. “Once we have the keep repaired and a guardhouse built at the edge of the dale, we can put in crops. I would see that inner valley of yours fortified also. What do you think, my Lady?”

  “I think it is well. I have wished many times that we had kept a better guard. Then when Neeco came sliding like a snake in the heather we would have had warning. Perhaps some of the men could have held him and his back until others got to safety.”

  I could make no true reply to that. It seemed from what Meive had said of events, that the Lord of Landale had never thought of treachery. He may have believed that isolated and hard to find as the dale was he had little to fear. Even when the larger dale nearby was ravaged he took few precautions. He had paid high. Let the Gods judge his folly, it was the innocents I regretted, though I said none of that to Meive.

  “Meive?” She could write. “Once we turn back, let us buy writing materials. I think it would be well if both of us wrote the stories of how our dales fell. Let those who rule after us remember our stories as a warning. Let them know they must ever guard and not forget that, no matter how long it be, evil may still come creeping. They must be always vigilant.”

  “That sounds well.” She turned to another subject. “Lorcan, do you mean to expand the keep? And where shall we obtain the stone?” We began discussion on that and I said no more on the death of Landale.

  The land seemed empty as we rode, yet it was not. The winged-warriors told of those who saw us and hid. Twice they warned of larger groups so that it was we who turned aside. I had taken the less-used trail through the hills close to the fringes of the great Waste. We had supplies enough, and on this path fewer would mark our going. With the winged-ones we feared no ambush, and I believed that no handful of outlaws would attack two well-armed mounted fighters unless there were a
number of such bandits to make the attack.

  There will always be outlaws so long as men wish to gain without work. But now the war was done, lords would begin to move against those who despoiled the land. Some might do so because the lord preferred no competition. But most had a real concern for those of their dale. Meive and I knew we must be cautious. Some daleslords would not appreciate our luring away of their people. We would approach only those who no longer had a place in which to live, those who were lordless and landless.

  I wanted families, but I would look also for a handful of fighters, men who would act as guards for Merrowdale, the dale nearby of which Meive had spoken. That, too, had been ravaged and brought down. It was possible we could take both dales and hold them. Binding each dale one to the other by a regular exchange of those people whose occupations would allow it. I would think further on that.

  We must also be alert as time passed. Once the lords began to reorder the dales further north those outlaws who would not change their ways would have to move. They would seep South towards Merrowdale and then to Honeycoombe. At first it was likely we would see few, but they would be more numerous as the northern dales became more vigorous in defending against them.

  I resolved to teach Meive all I could of weapons-work. She had told me she was fair enough with a sling. She already knew the rudiments of handling a light bow and I could teach her further. Sword-drill she had taken to as a fish takes to water, since she was lithe, with quick reactions, and her life had left her with good arm muscles. Besides all this I would add to her lessons the tricks Faslane had taught to me: city street-fighter tricks, most of them, and none the worse for that. Not when one fighter was a light-boned girl who needed any advantage I could contrive.

  The journey was peaceful as we traveled. We talked much, so that I came to know Meive as a friend. I learned she had a ready wit, and while she mourned the death of her people, she was slowly beginning to come to terms with her grief and her bitterness at Neeco’s betrayal of them. Once I spoke of Erondale. The discussion led further as I talked of my family.

  “I loved my brothers, but Merrion was not close to me.”

  “How so?”

  “He was seven years older. When Erondale was attacked he had only been back a few months. Before that he was visiting friends in other dales for half a year, and two years at Paltendale learning to be a warrior and to rule a keep as a lord should. I was closest to Anla. He was only three years older and should have gone to Paltendale earlier than he did. He was home again when the invaders struck at Erondale.” I remembered Anla, his laughter, his affection for the small brother I had been to him.

  “I miss them all. Paltendale, too, is not as it was: there was only Hogar and his three sons in direct line.”

  Meive’s head came up. “Lorcan? Didn’t you say one of the sons survived the war? Why do you speak as though all the line is ended?”

  I looked out into the dark beyond the fire.

  “Because there is more to that.” I told her the story. Of how Faslane had believed Hogeth had slain his brother to inherit Paltendale. Of how, when I found the pass where the men of Paltendale had stood firm, only the dead remained—Faslane with a deep dagger-thrust to his back—and the hoofprints of a single horse which led away.

  “You cannot swear,” Meive said consideringly. “But like Faslane you believe. You think Hogeth slew his brother, slew Faslane perhaps because he saw Faslane suspected. You think he fled the battle and escaped. Mayhap while his father and the guard still fought. Has this Hogeth anything against you, Lorcan?” So I told her, too, of Hogar’s chiding of his son over Hogeth’s words concerning me when I was still a boy.

  “He made an enemy for you there. If Hogeth is one such as you say he would not take well to being criticized before others. Nor would he blame his own words, but the one who had brought them forth.” With that I could only agree and be thankful Meive was one with sense. “Tell me of Hogeth?” she continued. “What does he look like, of what manner is his speech? Should I meet him it were well I could recognize him though he will not know me.”

  I described Hogar’s son carefully. Now and again she nodded until at length she seemed to have him firmly fixed in her mind’s eye.

  “I think I shall know him if I meet him. Thank you, Lorcan.”

  I turned away to mend the fire. The Gods forfend she must ever meet the man. Hogeth was another such as Pletten the Wicked. There’d been tales at Paltendale within the keep. Soldiers and guards will talk no matter what a lord says about gossip. Once I had overhead something else. Not to speak of that to Meive was to disarm her against danger. I summoned up my courage and cleared my throat. She waited to hear what I would say next.

  “It is shame to my House that I should say this. But I owe you sword-debt and you should know. My father said once that there was a curse on the blood of Pasren who founded Paltendale. I know such a man was rare in the dales, where men rarely ill-treated women until the war came to make some men mad. Yet it is rumored that in every fourth generation of the Paltendale line one man will appear who is evil, desiring women and caring not if they say him nay. Four generations back it was a son of the then Lord of Paltendale. This time it is Hogeth.” I found myself reddening as I made the tale clear.

  “I would not have believed mere gossip but I know that it is the truth,” I said briefly. “On one occasion I was in an alcove behind hangings against a window. None knew I was there. I heard Hogar speak to his son about a complaint made by one of the dalesfolk. I heard enough to know Hogeth had done as was claimed and did not repent his deed.” I stirred the fire while I waited for her to absorb that. “Meive, he thinks any woman not of noble blood is his by right. It may be that we will meet up with him on this journey. If so I beg you, trust not his words nor ever be alone with him unless it be in a place where your warriors can come to you. For your own safety I ask this.”

  She flushed slightly but her eyes held mine. “It shall be as you ask. I will be well aware of this man and take no chances.”

  I was growing to know her now. I saw she spoke truth, and I was content.

  IX

  I said no more on the subject. I would have said less but for an uneasy feeling. Something warned me that while I wished never again to see Hogeth the same thought was not in his mind. I put foreboding from me, I was no wise woman. What would be would be and worry only weakens. Berond had taught me a warrior must take all precautions, then relax, waiting tranquilly for the time to come when he may act.

  Our journey towards Tildale was taking time, yet it was very pleasant. The more I knew of Meive the more I delighted in her. I no longer thought, perhaps a little smugly, a little patronizingly, that she might be a fit lady for my keep that would be. Now I watched humbly and knew if she would be my lady in truth as I oft spoke of her, then would I be more fortunate than most who wed for estate. But of my feelings I did not speak while she traveled with me. It would be wrong to do so and besides, I who had thought my blood and line of the highest, was now afraid to bespeak a dalesgirl lest I be rejected.

  Meive was not to be swayed by recitation of long heritage or high estate. She would love one she found who merited that. I was unsure I was that one. Instead I worked to teach her weapons-skill. I praised her when she did well, but I spoke as an instructor or friend and let nothing show of my true feelings.

  “Could we purchase a bow for me?” Meive sat cross-legged in camp during the third week of our travel, wiping the bow-string dry on my own bow as she questioned. “This one requires too much strength. If I had one of my own I could learn as I learn the sword.”

  “I know the land hereabouts,” I said absently. “There used to be an inn and a permanent market on the cross-roads of the main road. If it was not destroyed, or if they have set it up again, we could take the over-hills trail. We might find a bow in the market there.” I turned to see her eyes widen in pleasure. “We must be careful,” I warned.

  “Whyfor? Is there likely to be dang
er at this market?”

  I nodded. “It is not unknown for bandits to send one of their number into markets to note any who might be good targets. If we are seen as armed fighters they will be less eager to engage us. Keep your helm on, let me speak. If you need query me draw me aside so none hear your voice. If I must give a name I shall call myself—” My mind went back to the name I had used while I rode with Lord Salden. “Farris of Eldale. You shall be my younger brother, Faldo.”

  “There’s more to this, is there not?”

  “Somewhat. I left Paltendale retinue and the Lord Hogar was unpleased I did so. To save trouble when I joined Lord Salden I took to me another name. We go to Tildale where they know me by that name.”

  “But if the Lord of Tildale was slain at Hagar Pass who will make you free of their House there?”

  “His father, Salas.”

  “How was it his father did not lead?”

  “His father was old then, and older now. Aran told me that once Salas’s lady died Salas had no more desire to rule. So he gave the rule into his son’s hands. Lord Salas lives yet, unless he has died this past year or two. He met me often enough and will open his gates to us both.” I leaned back to toss wood on the fire. “Besides, Hogeth would know my true name if it came to his ears through any at Tildale. Belo and Todon, if they live and hear it, would know also who I am. And if I am Farris, best you are my younger brother lest men talk for other reasons. However, I will tell Salas the truth. He is an honorable man.” The talk went then to what else we might wish to buy if we found the market.

  We took the side-trail next morning. By mid-day we were near enough to see that the inn and the cross-roads market yet stood. Either the invaders had never reached the place or they had bypassed it on another road. I could tell from the wood of the buildings that they were very far from new, so they had not been rebuilt after destruction. I led the way downhill, seeking stables first for the beasts. With them safe, Meive and I plunged eagerly into the mass of people. I had warned her to keep her belt-pouch within her jerkin at the market. There were cut-purses in any market and with lean times after the war, there were more thieves than ever and some were desperate.