Silver May Tarnish Page 13

  I would have turned to the left in the main avenue between the stalls but for her touch on my arm. She said nothing, but signaled my attention with a jerk of her chin towards one stall. I looked. A weapons-seller with good bows for sale. I strolled towards the stall. Once there I took up the bows casually, checking staves and pull. There was one there, a bow made for a woman or boy, which would be suitable. The grip was well-worn but it was in good condition. I settled to bargain. In the end I paid well enough, but for my price I received bow, quiver, spare strings, and a flight of ten good hunting arrows. I waited until we were away before handing the bow and quiver of arrows to Meive.

  “I think this will suit you very well. Do you wish to return to leave it with the horses?” She shook her head in silence. Accepting the weapon she hitched it to her back as she had seen me do with my own bow. We began to stroll along the stalls again. I bought journey-bread and cheese, ale in an ale-sack, wound salve, a spare whetstone, and other small purchases. Then I returned to the stables. Once there I looked cautiously about me. None were close.

  “Meive? There’s a risk, but a small one. We could stay tonight at the inn here. The Inn of the Cross-Roads had a good name in the old days. Two rooms—I shall claim that I have a cold and you are prone to the lung-fever, that way I can ask for two rooms without it appearing strange. Two rooms and a bath. A few good meals we do not have to cook for ourselves.”

  “A bath?” Her tone was like one who spoke incredulously of treasure. I could understood that. It had been months since I could bathe with soap in heated water. I swore by Cup and Flame I would have a fine bathing-room in our keep. During an errand for Lord Hogar to another keep I had once seen a bathing-room in which the fires to heat the water were above the room so that the heated water flowed down in pipes. I grinned at Meive.

  “A bath, yes.”

  She became practical. “You said there was some risk?”

  I shrugged. “To any action there is risk. But I think it is not great. Make certain your door is barred while you bathe, and later when you sleep. Beware of quarrelsome men in the common room.”

  “We could eat together in your room.”

  “That is sense.”

  “Then we stay the night here?”

  I smiled. “It seems we do. Now, is there anything else you can bring to mind which we might need at the market? If not we can go to the inn and bespeak what we wish.”

  Meive’s voice rose a little. “Oh, yes. Let us go now.”

  I saw a stablelad’s head turn, but it seemed he merely pointed out one of the horses to his client. The inn found us two rooms. They lay together in one comer of the upper floor and had a door between. The innkeeper took us up and bowed to me as he opened the doors.

  “I am Keris, owner of this inn. These are good rooms, Sir. I keep them for those who are kin. If the inner door is opened there is more room for both. And you wish baths? To eat here? That can all be provided.”

  I haggled. Just hard enough to convince him I was not one with over-filled pouch. Yet I halted soon enough that he should know, too, that I was not so niggardly that good food and service would not receive its due. I also made sure to cough rackingly four or five times, and allowed myself to be overheard warning my brother to be sure he wore his warmest shirt once he was out of the bath.

  We bathed, and I can only say that for me, who had not lain in hot water for many months, it was almost a religious experience. Meive emerged pink-faced and smiling, wrapped in her clean cloak. The food appeared on trays and we set to until at last there was only the wreckage of empty greasy plates. I leaned out to glance at the sky before looking at Meive.

  “It is not late, but if we sleep now we can rise to eat early in the morning and be gone.”

  “It sounds well. Let whoever wakes first, wake the other. Should we go to check the horses before we sleep?”

  “I will do that, and take back the trays. You seek your bed, and Meive, be very sure your outer door is barred. I think our host is honest, but he has others within his walls.”

  She retired and I hurried down to see to our mounts’ welfare. They were happy, knee-deep in clean straw with filled mangers and water buckets also. They had been well groomed and stood sighing in contentment. I tossed a generous number of coppers to the lad and smiled at him.

  “They have well been cared for, thank you. We ride early. See to it that the beasts are fed and watered again at first-light.” He caught the coppers neatly and bowed.

  “Yes, Lord.” He hesitated as if he would speak then, and I waited. His words came slowly, the way a man might speak to himself. “Two horses, none so bad, and the pony with a pack. Some might be interested. Men like one who was here earlier looking about him. He marked you both well. He has no great reputation, so they say.”

  I matched his tone. “Such a one might ride in company?”

  “Aye. So I have heard. Two more of them and each as bad as the other.” He rattled a bucket as he filled it. Tossed hay to a nickering horse then spoke as he turned to go. “They bide here tonight.” As he went bearing saddlery to clean, I looked after him, my eyes slitted in thought. Surely I had been warned. The lad could be in league with those of whom he warned me, but where was the profit in the warning if so?

  I returned to my room and tried the door between Meive and me very quietly. It was unbarred. I listened to her breathing and lifted a candle. All was well. The outer door was barred as I had told her to do. In the candle-light I saw that her window was ajar, and above her the light glinted on her sleeping warriors clinging to a beam. On the sill stood a small flat plate. She would have fed them the honey-water they loved before they slept. Had we been attacked in the open I would have called upon her warriors willingly. But within walls I thought it best none should know of them unless my case be desperate.

  From my pack I fetched two wedges and thrust them under her outer door. Each had two spikes at one end, one at each side and at right-angles, which could be trod into the floor. I had learned the carrying of them from Faslane and now in my heart I thanked he who had been a friend. I made sure to bar my own door and retired to the bed. It was soft, and still warm from the warming pan, and I fell into its embrace as a lover.

  Still, I had soldiered and scouted. Even in my deepest sleep something in me remained alert. I woke somewhere in the early morning hour to faint sounds outside my room. I judged it perhaps two hours short of dawn, a suitable hour for rogues to be abroad. I moved in the direction of the noises to touch the door. It was from that the sounds came. I smiled, moved through to Meive’s room and laid my hand across her mouth.

  “Meive, it is Lorcan.” I felt her stir and spoke my name again until I felt her nod. “Speak soft. There are thieves or worse at my door. I have wedged your door so they can enter in one place only.”

  “Why let them enter at all?”

  “I think if they cannot come at us this night they will follow. Better to stop them now where we may have aid within call.” With two wedges thrust home they would have to smash down her door to enter and that they would not risk. “Let you stay within your room, bar the inner door, and wait Keep the bees with you. I will call if I am in great need or once it is safe.” I thought she might protest that. I had no doubt of her courage, but in such a fight she would be more liability than aid.

  “Better you fight alone, knowing each you strike is an enemy,” she said at last. I let out a breath.

  “That is truth. Yours is the harder thing to do, I know.”

  “Then go to do your share that I may not wait so long on your call.” I reached out to grip her shoulder once in reassurance then sped hastily to my room again to don my mail.

  The scratching at my door was a dagger whittling at the door’s edge. With a thin blade and a strong wrist, once the gap was made a thief could raise the bar from outside. If they planned only to steal they would first enter a loop of wire to hold the bar from falling. Faslane had shown me the trick once. It was easy enough to intrude th
e wire above the bar, then retrieve it with another piece of hooked wire from below the bar again. With the bar secured the door could be opened silently, the sleeper within plundered, the thieves long gone before he woke. That was if they wished to steal only.

  Otherwise, when the bar fell they must burst in swiftly to take me before I woke to the sound of its fall. If I was fortunate they only planned to knock me on my head and steal. But many a traveler had been found dead in his blood before now. I dare not hold back my blows, the more so as I could feel no wire and there had been the same scratching at Meive’s door. I waited, letting my hand touch the bar lightly now and again until I judged it ready to leave the iron hooks on which it lay.

  It would open inward. I moved to stand to the side, drew sword and dagger. I poised ready as the bar fell. The thud of its landing was not great, yet they, too, must have been ready. The door was flung open and a man burst through. I allowed him to pass me then struck him down just as his comrade entered. My blow had been true so that the thief died without cry. I think the one who followed believed the small sound of a blade cleaving flesh was made by his friend as he slew me.

  He grunted approval, then spoke low-voiced. “Is he dead?”

  I closed with him, my dagger went home even as my other hand choked back any cry in his throat. His own dagger snapped on my mail. He thrashed somewhat after that as he died. The third of them must have been bewildered by the dark. He blundered into me, seized my arm, and muttered angrily.

  “You make too much noise about it, you fool. You’ll have the innkeeper up here.”

  “A good thought,” I agreed. I lifted my dagger, striking him hard across the side of the head with the pommel before he understood my words. He staggered and half-fell. I caught him as he sagged, flinging him to the comer behind the door. Then I lifted my voice in a bellow. “Ho, innkeeper, aid here! Aid to your guests beset by thieves.”

  I heard the bar on Meive’s side of the inner door fall free. She sprang into the room sword in hand, mail and helm in place, her bee warriors at the ready above her, even as I lit a candle. At a glance she saw I was unharmed. Her eyes questioned me. I waved her and her company to retire and moved to shut the door again behind her. She obeyed hastily, just as the innkeeper arrived, still in his nightshirt but with a businesslike sword clenched in one meaty hand.

  “Thieves? Where?” I stepped aside from the door. “Ah.” He turned the nearest body over with one foot. “Melcan and,” he thrust over the other body. “His comrade, Deggs. A good nights work on your part, young Sir.” Behind us, sprawled in the corner where I had flung him, the third thief groaned. The innkeeper turned like a cat. His voice carried vast satisfaction as he raised the lantern his scullery boy had brought.

  “Marteyn Crowsbait—and alive! Long have I waited for justice on this one.” He raised his voice to his staff as they gathered behind him. “Bind him, lads. Bind him very secure and call the market guards.”

  I went to sit upon my bed while men tramped in and out, guards were called, and the bodies of those I had slain were removed. I told my story several times, each time to louder approval, making sure I coughed rackingly now and again and sniffed hard after each coughing spell. Once all was cleared Keris the innkeeper remained. He shut the door and turned to me.

  “You were waiting for them. Nay, do not tell me I am wrong. I was a soldier before I took up this trade.” That I had guessed. He moved still like a man who was sword-trained. “I ask no questions. I am only glad to know that Marteyn will bother us no more.”

  “There was a grudge between you?”

  “A grudge indeed. Two years gone at war’s end I hosted a young couple. Recently wed when it appeared the war would be soon over. They were no lord’s kin. Merely two dalesfolk who wished to be happy.”

  “What happened?”

  “They were found dead in their room. The boy had been daggered, despoiled of belt-pouch and weapons, but the girl …” His voice trailed off, so I guessed what he would not say.

  “Marteyn and his fellows?”

  “So I have always thought. They guested that night here. They had not the name for such doings then, but later I heard it, so came to think it had been their work. Since then I have watched them close should they take beds here.” He looked at me. “I thought not that you and your brother would be in danger. Marteyn was not one to risk his hide’gainst two men to his three, and those two armsmen by appearance. I was wrong and I beg pardon of you. I should perhaps have spoken to the market guards.”

  “It’s their job to know. Would they stand guard outside the doors of all who might be at risk? If they could find no proof what could you have said since you also had none?” I consoled him. “I and my brother are unharmed. We have lost nothing. Let it be.”

  Keris looked me in the eye. “Still, I should have denied them a room. Accept your own fees paid. I take nothing from you and would that you remained another day so I may repay the debt I feel.”

  I stood in thought a moment. Meive would delight in another bath and a second night in a real bed. And I could talk privately with Keris on the morrow. He would know of all the dales around and of how they had survived the invader. He could maybe name some who might be eager for land and their own homes again. I need not seek them out until we returned, but to know of them now would save time then.

  “We will stay the second night. I thank you, Keris.” I spoke to him not as customer bespeaks an innkeeper but as a soldier answers a comrade. His spine straightened further as a glow of pride lit his eyes. He departed and I went to the inner door to tell Meive of events. I found it ajar and knew she had heard.

  “If you object, we shall leave,” I offered.

  “What, deny another bath and a real bed? I’m not such a fool.” Nor had I thought that of her.

  We spent the day pleasantly in the market There was a commotion at sunhigh when Marteyn Crowsbait was aided to live up to his name. Most of those about in the market went to watch, though neither Meive nor I wished to see. It was justice, but we had seen too many dead men already. That night we bathed in our rooms before being treated to a feast fit for any lord of the dales.

  During the next day I sought out Keris—making sure to continue my coughing, though by now I was heartily sick of the ruse and wished I had thought of some other reason why Meive and I should have separate. rooms. However, Keris was able to tell me much about those dales which had not survived. I made notes in my mind. There were both landless families and lone fighters about in the area. I would recall the names he had given me. When we returned I could seek some of them out.

  After that I found the stable-lad who had warned me. He did not wish it to be known, he said. I swore I would keep silent to Keris. I wondered if the boy had known one of the thieves but still warned me. I thought him not involved in what they had planned. I thanked him.

  “We think to return this way in some weeks. If you would have a place in a dale, work you may prefer to this, there would be a place for you. Think on it until we return. If you decide to remain here, well, this will smooth your path.” I gave him coin and saw him flush as he counted.

  “I was glad enough to do it.”

  “As I am glad to be alive, I and my brother.” I saw his eyes slide away at that and suddenly knew. It must have been when Meive raised her voice in this stable. I had seen the boy turn his head. He had guessed Meive to be a woman in disguise, and I thought it was for that he had warned us. I had best be grateful the boy was perceptive, else likely he’d have said nothing and we two could now lie dead. “There’d be a place for you,” I said again, and left him.

  We departed the next day after breaking our fast with a large platter of bread and cheese. I pushed the pace as we dropped back over the hills and followed the road along the Waste fringe once more. Above us Meive’s wing-friends hummed happily. They had not much liked our nights under a roof at the inn. It took another ten-day, but at length I saw a trail back across the mountains.

  �
��This should lead us direct to Tildale. It will be pleasant to see Aran again.”

  Meive studied me critically. “The dye fades from your hair,” she told me. “Do you wish to renew that before we meet your friend?”

  I did. It took the remainder of that day for my hair to be rinsed in the powdered herb and dried. But once that was done we had a merry camp. After we retired I lay looking at the stars. It had been late Spring when I met my lady. Now it was Summer. There would be no need to worry about shelter once we were back in Honeycoombe. A few weeks work and the village houses would be weather-tight. It was the keep which would require time and labor.

  If none had survived to return to the neighboring Merrowdale we could plunder the stones from their keep. Or perhaps they had built some cot or barn in stone, that we could take without further damage to their hold. I had not seen Merrowdale, the trail we had taken led us another way, but Meive said it had once been a prosperous enough place. There might even be livestock there gone wild which we could take for ourselves.

  In the morning I found I had slept well. Berond oft said that a busy day makes for a sound sleep. By mid-morning we found the side track into Tildale. I led the way; Meive, mailed and helmed, riding behind me; Drustan trotting after us. I sucked in a breath and Meive glanced at me. Her voice came thoughtfully as she looked at the land.

  “Hard land, small acreage. They do not do well here. I see few men and most of those too old, too young, or crippled. The crops are scant, the animals thin. Last Winter was hard, but I think it was far harder here, though it is so much further to the North.”