Deverry - A Time Of War Part 11

'I can't say for sure. Bad blood between Evandar and his brother, bad blood between the Bright and the Dark Courts. Evil things are brewing, Jill. I can feel them - or no, not evil, exactly, but malice and spite and old hatreds.'

'That, my dear friend, sounds evil enough for me. And please, be careful! You're in constant danger these days.'

'I suppose so. I can't even blame Alshandra for hating me so bitterly. After all, I did steal her husband away, didn't I? And I'd best return to Evandar now. I'll be back, as soon as I can. Trouble or no, my place is here.'

Jill felt the wave of fear from Dallandra's mind like a cold wind.

'My thanks. And if I need you badly before then, I'll send the Wildfolk as messengers.'

'Do, please.'

The linnet began to fly lower, dropping down toward the countryside and heading straight for the water-veil rising up from the stream in the valley. Jill was just ready to shout a warning, because the currents of elemental force above moving water would tear an etheric form apart, when she remembered that not only was Dallandra very much in the physical, but that she was also a master of the strange dweomer of hidden roads. The linnet swooped, skittered, fluttering along the water-veil, then suddenly spiralled up to disappear through one of the mysterious gates that led into the country where she lived with her beloved.

Ye G.o.ds, Jill thought to herself, how she puts up with Evandar for two days together is beyond me!

There's all his riddling and wild talk, and besides, he's neither human nor elven, not truly incarnate at all - it's too perverse for the likes of me! Then she had to laugh at herself, that in the midst of all these strange events and mighty dweomers, she could still worry over a friend's choice of men. She soared back to Cengarn, reaching the dun just as the first dawn touched the eastern sky.

When Jahdo woke and found himself in their new chamber, high up in the main tower of the broch, he lay still for a long time and wished that he were dreaming, that he'd wake to find himself home, but the big wedge shape of a chamber stayed stubbornly real in the grey light of early dawn. Home or not, their new lodging was certainly better than the dungeon keep. Across the room, Meer lay snoring in a proper bed, surrounded by embroidered hangings, while Jahdo had a trundle bed with good blankets all to himself. In one corner of the room stood a bronze charcoal brazier in case some night turned chilly.

Under the window lay a wooden chest, covered at the moment with bags and sacks. The night before, Rhodry had hunted round the dun and found most of their captured gear, although much to Jahdo's sorrow, his grandfather's knife had never turned up. Most likely it lay on the riverbank by the forest where Rhodry had made him drop it, back in what seemed like another life.

Since he was hungry, he got up, pulling on his trousers, and padded across the floor bare-footed to find the chamber pot at the far end of the chamber. When he was done, he went to the window and began rummaging as quietly as he could in the sacks to see if there was any food left in them. All at once the entire pile s.h.i.+fted and slid, thumping onto the floor. Meer woke with a snort and a curse.

'My apologies,' Jahdo said. 'I was trying to be quiet. I just did drop some sacks and stuff.'

Meer snorted again and yawned, rubbing the sides of his face with both hands.

'It be dawn out and light in here,' Jahdo said. 'Down in the ward there's servants walking round and stuff. I was just wondering if we had any food in these sacks.'

'A good wondering, that. Hand me my clothes, and I'll get out of bed.'

Down in the corner of one sack Jahdo did find a few slices of dried apple, and there was a flagon of fresh water and a wooden cup in the chamber as well, so they had a bit of a meal to tide them over.

When the sun was brightening on the dun wall, a servant unbarred the door to their chamber and came in with a loaf of bread, some fried bacon and a pitcher of milk, brought specifically because Meer had asked for it the night before. The la.s.s looked at Meer in such terror that she probably would have thrown the food onto the floor and run if Jill hadn't been standing right behind her.

'Jahdo, come take these things, will you?' the mazrak said. 'I thought I'd come in for a bit of a chat.'

Jahdo could think of nothing more likely to spoil one's breakfast than a conversation with a sorcerer, but he smiled politely and did as he was told. Jill perched on the recently-cleared chest at the window while Jahdo served Meer his food and got his own. The boy and the bard sat on the edge of the bed to eat.

'Now,' Jill said. 'Meer, I know that you're a prisoner of war. For me to question you about your homeland goes contrary to all the laws of honour, but I'm desperate enough to try.'

Meer merely grunted and fanged a rasher.

'Consider the evil that your own people will suffer,' Jill went on. This false G.o.ddess will lead them into great harm.'

'My own people realize that very thing, mazrak,' Meer said with his mouth full. 'With the exception of my ill-begotten foal of a brother, she has no followers there.'

Jill hesitated, c.o.c.king her head to one side, honestly puzzled.

'It's the wild tribes,' Jahdo said. 'The ones in the north, not Meer's people in the west. That's where all the prophets do come from.'

'The what?' Jill turned to him with her icicle stare, stabbing into his very soul. 'Where is this?'

Jahdo felt suddenly sick. Deep in his mind a memory tried to rise, another pair of ice blue eyes, another stare that had pinned him down. He whimpered and broke away, flinging up a hand as if to ward a blow.

Meer turned toward him with a questioning sort of growl.

'Here, lad!' Jill's voice softened, and her eyes were normal again. I won't hurt you. I'm sorry if I frightened you. I never knew there was such a thing as wild tribes, you see, till this very moment, and it took me by surprise, like.'

'All right ' He was surprised to find his voice steady. 'Meer, may I tell her about the tribes? Or would that be dishonourable? I be worried about what's going to happen to my own people if they get attacked and stuff. My father says we should always be scared of them, you know.'

The bard considered, wiping his mouth on the back of one hairy hand, while Jill merely sat and waited for his decision. In the strong sunlight she seemed more frail than ever, as if her skin and flesh were translucent. Jahdo found himself thinking of bayberry candle wax.

'I will speak for us both,' Meer said at last. The tribes may be Horsekin, but they're no allies of the Gel da'Thae. If they've gone over to the false G.o.ddess, then they be enemies indeed.'

'My thanks, good bard.' Jill sounded profoundly relieved. 'Is there a difference between Horsekin and Gel da'Thae?'

'Of a sort. We were all the same people, though a people made up of warring tribes, in a past very long gone indeed. But now my people live in the ruined cities of the Children of the G.o.ds, while the wild tribes still roam the -untamed plains of the north with their horse herds. Ah, the plains! The treasure that we Gel da'Thae have lost! And cursed poor custodians the wild tribes have proved for it, too. Huh, they dare to wage war without any of the proper rituals and procedures. In war it behooves a man to be ruthless, but they've stooped to using any and every weapon at their disposal, including the four evil magicks and the seven cowards' tricks. You wouldn't be alone there, mazrak.'

Jahdo flinched, hoping that Jill wasn't about to blast Meer with lightning or suchlike, but she merely smiled.

'I see,' she said. 'And it's those tribes who wors.h.i.+p Alshandra?'

'They do, indeed.'

'Ah, things are beginning to fall into place. Now, when you say the wild tribes are to the north, do you mean due north or north and west?'

'North and west. Not so far west for my folk, though far, far west from here.'

'One last thing, Meer. What do you mean when you say ruined cities of the Children of the G.o.ds?'

'That I will not tell you.'

'Very well. Let me guess. Long long ago the Horsekin conquered seven rich cities, filled with marvels, and in their rage and ignorance destroyed them utterly. To this day the people known as Gel da'Thae eke out their lives near the remains of the beauty they destroyed.'

Meer tossed back his head and howled, a thin keen of rage and mourning mingled. She be dweomer indeed! Jahdo thought, to ken such things and them as old as old. Jill smiled, sitting calm and easy, until Meer at last fell silent. For a moment he turned his head this way and that, focused at last on the sound of her breathing, and swung his head toward her.

'It's true,' he whispered. 'You've seen our ancient shame, mazrak. How? In a scrying crystal? Did the spirits come to you and bring you visions? How?'

'Not magic at all, but memory, the story pa.s.sed down and down the long years by bards, or even written in books. I have a book, Meer, that tells the story whole and speaks of your people as well, but as they were that thousand years or more ago. Not all the folk who lived in those cities died. Some escaped to find a refuge and remember the harsh Wyrd that had fallen upon their people. Some live west of here. Others sailed in boats far far to the south across the sea, and there they live to this day.'

For a long time Meer sat with his head turned as it would have been if he'd had eyes to stare at her. At last he turned away with a long sigh.

'I will speak no more to you, mazrak. I am, however, going to think about what you say.'

'My thanks, and that's all I'd ask of you.' She turned to Jahdo. 'So, lad. You come from the Rhiddaer, do you?'

'I do. I mean, uh, I didn't know you'd know about that. Or be that writ down in one of them books, too?'

'It is, indeed. But I'm probably the only person in all of Deverry who's both heard of the Rhiddaer and cares one whit about it, so don't let it trouble your heart. I can understand why you don't want the Slavers to come meddling with your country.'

'Good, 'cause we don't.' Jahdo summoned every shred of courage he had. 'We be tree now, and free we'll stay.'

'And I promise you somewhat, lad. I'd die myself before I'd let anyone enslave your folk ever again. I mean that from the very bottom of my heart. It was a wrong thing that Deverry men did when they stole your people's land and freedom, and those of us who serve the dweomer have condemned it from the very beginning.'

The quiet way she spoke convinced Jahdo that she meant every word of it. His eyes filled with tears again, and he found he couldn't speak.

'Tell me somewhat, mazrak,' Meer broke in. Apparently he could no longer stand his self-imposed silence, not when there was lore to be had. 'May I ask you a question in turn for those you've been asking me?'

'Of course, though I may not answer, since at times you won't answer me.'

'Fair enough. You know about Jahdo's people, and your name sounds as if it came from his country.

Have you lived there, then?'

'I haven't, but I've heard tales from the Westfolk, the horseherders who live out on the gra.s.slands between our two peoples.'

'Horseherders!' Jahdo blurted. 'See, Meer, I were right.'

'Just so. Now hush.'

"There are some of them in the dun right now, Jahdo.' Jill smiled, attempting to be kind. 'You'll see them sooner or later. I've made it my affair to gather as much information as I can, you see, about both the Rhiddaer and the Gel da'Thae - not that it's been much of a harvest.'

'Indeed? But what about your name?'

'Just a nickname my father gave me, but I wouldn't be at all surprised to find it goes back to some ancestor of mine who was a bondwoman. Jahdo, from what I've been able to learn, while your people may have adopted the Deverry language, your names spring from the old tongues of your ancestors, not from ours, because people cling to their names and pa.s.s them down. And not all your ancestors escaped Deverry entirely. Many years ago, when we were having some horrible wars, a lot of bondfolk found themselves without masters. Some claimed their land as freedmen and stayed where they were, others went to other provinces to settle down and farm there.'

'No one made them go back?' Jahdo asked.

'They were too valuable where they were. The n.o.ble-born learned an interesting lesson, back in those days of civil war. If there weren't any farmers to give them food in taxes, they'd have to farm themselves if they were going to eat, and well, now, they wouldn't have been very n.o.ble, then, would they?'

Jahdo laughed.

'Now we come to my case,' Jill went on. 'I was as aminheddic as a la.s.s can be. Do you know that word? You look puzzled.'

'I don't, my apologies.'

'Well, a binheddic man is a man with a pedigree, a man who knows who his ancestors were, a n.o.ble-born man. When you don't know and care a fair bit less, then you're aminheddic, lacking a family tree, common-born.'

'Oh. And that matters?'

'It matters a great deal, here in Deverry. Never forget that. Your life might depend on it, remembering that the n.o.ble-born see themselves as a good bit more valuable, like, than the aminheddic. But anyway, I've got a bondwoman's name, sure enough, and so I'm guessing that somewhere back in my family there were freedmen.'

'And that doesn't ache your heart?' Meer said with some surprise.

'Not at all, good bard, not at all. All souls are the same to me, n.o.ble or common, human or otherwise. I was given the dweomer to serve them all.'

Meer sucked his fangs as he thought this over.

'I have never heard of a sorcerer who used her tricks to serve anyone or anything but herself.'

'Then I'll wager you never heard of a sorcerer who had anything more than tricks at her disposal.'

Meer seemed to be about to speak, then sat back. Out of sheer nerves Jahdo giggled, which earned him a cuff on the shoulder.

'My apologies, Meer. I wasn't mocking you or anything.'

'Good. Don't.'

'Meer, bard, loremaster,' Jill said, 'I truly believe that we must be allies, not enemies, in this time of danger. Pooling what I know with what you know will be of great profit to both our peoples.'

'You believe so, do you?' Meer paused for a sip of milk. 'Strange stuff, this cow's milk you people drink. It's so thick and oily.'

Jill smiled at the evasion, then merely waited, letting Meer drink his cup of milk as the silence grew thicker in the room. All of a sudden Jahdo wasn't hungry any more, though he couldn't say why. He laid his half-eaten piece of bread down on the wooden trencher. From outside and down below came noises, horses' hooves clopping on stone, people laughing and talking, the rumbling b.u.mp of a barrel being rolled, but they all seemed to be sounding from a great distance away. In the chamber the silence seemed so thick that Fie felt he'd touch it if he reached out a hand. Meer handed Jahdo the cup, then wiped all round his mouth with the back of his hand in case he'd spilled a drop or two. Jill merely waited, her hands folded in her lap.

'Ah well,' Meer said at last. 'I do happen to know why Thavrae led his men east to your country.'

Jill smiled again.

'Thavrae?' she said. 'That's your brother, isn't it?'

Meer growled.

'My apologies,' Jill said and quickly, "The man who used to be your brother.'

Meer grunted, satisfied.

'I'd very much like to know that,' Jill went on. 'If you could bring yourself to tell me.'

'I might, mazrak, but in return, I'll want a promise out of you, that you'll do everything you can to make sure young Jahdo here returns to his homeland before he's much older. What happens to me now is of little moment, but I made his mother a promise.'

Jahdo felt his eyes fill with tears, which he wiped away as un.o.btrusively as he could.

'Done, then.' Jill reached out a hand and touched Meer's arm. 'You have my sworn word.'

They clasped hands for a brief moment.

'And you have mine that this is the truth, as much as I know of it,' Meer said. 'When the man who once was my brother fled our city with his band of soldiers, because by our laws he'd be strangled for heresy should he stay within the city bounds, the high priestess came to my mother, and my mother in turn sent for me. The priestess swore that the G.o.d Evandar the Far Archer, he who serves the G.o.ddess Rinbala, had appeared to her while she did vigil in the temple and had delivered unto her tidings of great import.

The man my mother had birthed before me was fleeing east on his false G.o.ddess's bidding, to fetch some valuable thing for the demoness. The Alshandra creature had charged him with the returning of this precious object to her. As to what it is or was, none of us knew, except that she claimed it was hers and that it had been stolen from her.'

'Evandar?' Jahdo broke in. 'He's the one who did tell us which road to take!'

'So he did,' Meer said. 'Now don't interrupt.'

Jill sat watching them with an expression of stunned surprise.

'I see,' she said at last. 'And we know that Thavrae failed.'