Kings Of The North Part 31

"For my past rudeness." Andressat had flushed now, continuing to stare at the half-empty cup. "I-I always thought our claim to n.o.bility was best, you see. The northern t.i.tles mongrel, born of nothing but ambitious pride. That we of Andressat, and the Duke of Fall, were the last and only to have direct descent from those who had ruled in Aare." He paused again, then gulped and went on. "I was wrong. I treated him-the king-and you yourself as if you were baseborn, persons of no lineage, when it is I who have no claim beyond that of...of convenience."

Dorrin stared; he looked up, and she saw his eyes glittering with tears he quickly blinked back.

"My pardon, my lord," he said, his voice a little thick. "It is still hard to admit."

She felt a rush of compa.s.sion for this old man, annoying as he had been before. "My lord Count," she said, "whatever you think of your lineage, you yourself have served your realm well. If my opinion counts for anything, you deserve your t.i.tle."

"That may be," he said, "but the fact is that my ancestors who came to Aarenis from Aare were craftsmen, not n.o.bles. The t.i.tle was given because too few n.o.bles escaped the final disaster to govern the land...Commoners were elevated, and my family, my lord, were one of them. I did not know this until this past summer." He went on, more fluently now that the worst of his shame had been told, to describe the flood that had caused his father and grandfather to reorder the archives and begin sorting and copying those damaged and how he himself had been trained as a scribe and scholar initially, before he came to rule.

By then it was dark, and despite the pastries and the fire, Dorrin was both stiff and hungry. She held up a hand when it seemed he was about to embark on another part of his tale.

"By your leave, my lord, I will go refresh myself before dinner, and after dinner we can resume."

He flushed again. "Of course. I'm sorry, my lord, I forget time...and you have journeyed today...perhaps tomorrow?"

"After dinner will be well enough," Dorrin said. "I am eager to hear more."

Dinner pa.s.sed quickly; Dorrin and her squires were hungry and talked little. Andressat and the King's Squires who had accompanied him made their own inroads into the roast meats and other foods. The King's Squires asked leave to ready themselves for departure the next morning, now that Dorrin was in residence.

"I have an urgent message for your king," Dorrin said, "that I thought to send by one of my people-are you allowed to carry messages for others?"

"Certainly, my lord," the woman said. "If it will not delay us."

"No," Dorrin said. "My lord Count, if you will excuse me briefly, I will be back with you shortly in the sitting room." He bowed, and she led the King's Squires to her office. "I have a letter for the king from his former captain, Jandelir Arcolin, and a sword found in Aarenis, cleansed and blessed by a Captain of Falk, which the letter concerns."

She handed over the familiar message-case Arcolin had given her, the same kind they'd used for years in the Company, brown leather stamped with the fox-head and tied with maroon laces. "And here's the sword."

The man's eyes widened. "That's a Halveric sword! What was it doing in Aarenis? Halveric Company's been quartered in Lyonya the last two years."

"I know," Dorrin said. "It's a family sword; Arcolin thought Kieri-your king-should give it back to the Halverics rather than have Andressat take it, as it closely involved a matter of honor for both the king and the Halveric. Will you do this?"

"Of course," the man said. The others nodded.

"And give the king my heartiest good wishes," Dorrin said. "I will write him at length, with much that Arcolin told me, but tonight I must hear more from Andressat, and you want to leave early tomorrow, do you not?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Then order what you will, in hall and stable, and Falk's Honor go with you, if you leave before I rise."

"Thank you, my lord." They bowed and withdrew; Dorrin rejoined Andressat in the sitting room, where he had built up the fire.

He resumed without delay.

"It was a shock to find out we were not of pure blood," he said. "I did not want Alured to find out, lest he insist on removing my family from the rule of Andressat. We do not have the resources to resist him for long, should he invade-and yes, I think that a possibility. He is more like Siniava than any of us guessed. He wants to rule the south-all of it."

"Surely he doesn't think he can-" Dorrin began.

"Indeed he does," Andressat said. "Aarenis and more than Aarenis. He has heard rumors of a crown-of royal regalia that once belonged in Aare-"

Dorrin stiffened. "How-what made him think-"

"Rumors of such came through Valdaire after Midsummer," Andressat said. "I myself heard nothing of it until later, but apparently Alured's spies in the north-yes, my lord, that is what I said, in the north-told him of some excitement at court when your king was crowned. I could not determine if this was the sight of the Tsaian crown, or something else. It is widely known that the northern rulers came from Aare to Aarenis, and then went over the mountains."

Dorrin felt her tongue cleaving to the roof of her now-dry mouth. Just as she and the king feared: Alured knew of the crown. Alured-ambitious and ruthless Alured-would want it.

Andressat went on. "He is more dangerous than Siniava...He wants it all: Aarenis, the Eight Kingdoms, and then-by what his scribe told me-he wants to mount an invasion of Old Aare and restore it to glory and himself to its rule."

"Does he know for certain that such a crown exists?" Dorrin asked.

"He believes so," Andressat said. "Were you at the coronation? Did you see anything to support his belief?"

"I was there." Dorrin tried to think how to proceed. Though too many people knew about the crown for it to remain a secret, King Mikeli had asked his peers to say only that it was held in the royal treasury. "Did you find out what Alured thinks the crown looks like? The Tsaian crown is mostly rubies."

"Was the Tsaian crown lost or hidden for a time?"

"No," Dorrin said. "I think it was made after the Girdish wars, as the old crown had been lost."

"Lost-its fate not known?" His eyes brightened. "That could be it-not a crown of Aare but of Tsaia's old king-"

"The royal treasury has several crowns," Dorrin said. "Rumors of a hidden crown before the coronation could have been spread by traitors among my own relatives. Alured's spies might have heard and believed such rumors."

"That could be," Andressat said. "But Alured believes in such a crown, and believes he has a right to it. He has gathered troops; I am convinced he is behind the counterfeiting of Guild League currency. He will have agents in the north, even now, seeking that crown. If he connects your name with it-"

"I doubt he will, but I take your warning," Dorrin said. "More important than my safety is the security of Tsaia. My king charged me with the organization of the kingdom's military-to a.s.sess the threat that disorder in Aarenis might spread north and to prepare. What you have told me makes it imperative that you go to Verella and tell King Mikeli what you have told me. Tell me, what did Kieri-the king in Lyonya-say when you told him?"

Andressat scowled. "I cannot blame him-he, a king and royal-born, after the way I treated him in my own realm-but he scarcely listened. He was concerned about Aliam Halveric, whose lady had begged me to carry a message to the king-and when he read it he made haste to leave for Halveric Steading."

"What's wrong with Aliam?" Dorrin asked.

"I do not know," Andressat said. "He seemed older, and unhappy, but-" He shrugged. "I do not know why the king left in such haste, before I could explain my errand."

"Aliam took him in, when he was a starveling stray, and made him squire and then sponsored him to Falk's Hall," Dorrin said. "If Aliam needed him-if Estil thought Aliam needed him-of course Kieri would go at once."

"Yes, but-"

"My lord Count, I beg you not to think he left to slight you. His story is his to tell, not mine, but he has every reason to value Aliam Halveric highly, to consider his welfare important to that realm. Instead, let me urge you to go to Verella and speak to King Mikeli. I will give you an introduction and an escort. If I were not needed here, I would go with you, so important do I think your warning. You must rest a few days, of course, but the king must know of the peril you mention before winter closes in and travel becomes difficult. You will wish to be back in the south, on your own land, by then."

The next morning, Dorrin talked to Selfer about the cohort's return to the Company. "Arcolin will send some south early," she said. "He wants a full three cohorts in Aarenis next season, and will be sending at least a cohort as soon as he's made his dispositions in the north. From what Andressat tells me, he'll need every one of them, and there will be plenty of work."

Selfer nodded, trying not to look pleased at the prospect of returning to the Company. "When will you release us?"

"As soon as the Count is rested and can travel again," Dorrin said. "Andressat needs a strong escort to Verella-the king must know what he told me, and it is not safe for him to travel alone. I presume you'll be staying on with Arcolin as a captain."

"I hope so," Selfer said. "Though I still want to complete my training as knight."

"I'm sure you will," Dorrin said. "I expect the Count will be ready to travel in a few days."

Andressat, when she asked, looked out the window at what was now a steady cold rain and asked if there was any chance the weather might clear later on. Dorrin thought of the high, dry hills near Cortes Andres and wished her magery could whisk him home. "It might clear," she said. "Not today or tomorrow, but perhaps the next day. Rain comes with the cold blowing down from the north this time of year."

"How many days to Verella?" he asked.

"It depends on the roads," Dorrin said. "Right now they're muddy; this rain won't help. When they freeze, later in winter, before the snow's too deep, it's easier, but-" He was s.h.i.+vering at the thought. Dorrin looked more closely at his clothes. He wore southern style, she realized: cloth woven from the fibers of southern plants; her own s.h.i.+rts for campaigning were of the same stuff. His silk sur-coat wasn't heavy enough for this cold spell.

How could she offer what he needed without offending him?

"After the Evener, people here wear wool," she said. "I daresay you brought no wool, thinking it too warm, is that not so?"

"Yes. At home we hardly feel a chill in air until half-winter and then it is but a chill."

"My lord Count, please honor me by accepting warmer clothes-plain but more suited to our climate-for the rest of your journey."

Andressat grimaced but then nodded, and she had warm winter clothes delivered to his suite. When he came back again, clothed in layers of wool, he looked much more cheerful and said he could be ready to travel in a day or two.

Dorrin took that opportunity to talk to the cohort herself. One or two, she thought, might want to stay with her rather than face a season of hard combat or retire to the harsher climate of the north. To her surprise, eight stepped forward at once.

"We never swore oath to Captain Arcolin," Vossik said. "Our oath was to Duke Phelan, only when he took the crown he released us, and then we came with you-we been with you all these years; we know you-"

"You know Arcolin, too," Dorrin said. "A fine captain he's always been and a fine count now. He'll be a duke in time, if that's what-"

"It's not." Vossik swallowed and looked at his companions.

"And there's Captain Selfer, who's your captain-he needs you-"

"Not as much as you do, my lord." Again that hasty look aside and back to meet her eyes. "We want to stay here. We want to serve you you, give our oaths to you. you."

Dorrin looked at them: five men, three women, all veterans she'd known for years. All were Girdish, not too surprising, but-"Did the Marshal-General tell you to keep an eye on me?" she asked. "Is that why you want to stay?"

"No, my lord," Vossik said. "We wasn't even in Verella with you, as you know."

"I know she's written Selfer," Dorrin said.

"Aye. He told us, too. And it's not that we don't respect him, but he's not you."

"I can't abide the thought of the stronghold without the Duke," Voln said. "It was him I swore fealty to, that first year, and now he's gone-"

"I can't go back," Natzlin said. She had been silent until then, as she had been since she returned from Lyonya, recovered from her physical wounds, but very different from before. "I can't go and see-think about-Barra-"

Dorrin felt more sympathy for Natzlin than the others; she had been so dependent on Barra, putting up with Barra's difficult personality and by that relations.h.i.+p isolated from others. But they were all correct: legally, these men and women had been oathbound to Phelan only so long as he was both their liege and Mikeli's va.s.sal. Now it was as if he had broken his oath, and those who had sworn fealty to him were free until they swore to another.

"I'll talk to Captain Selfer," she said. "You're right: your oath to Phelan is void, and since you have not yet sworn to Arcolin, you're free to make your own choices. I will remind you that all your friends and companions of years past will be with the Company under Arcolin."

"But we were always in your your cohort," Voln said. cohort," Voln said.

Selfer, when she spoke to him, agreed that the eight could stay without argument from him. "The Company's still over strength. The Duke-the king-would not want his veterans forced into service, even if there were a legal way to do it, and there's not. They're veterans; they've the right to leave. In fact, I should probably ask them all openly-especially if you're willing to take those who want to stay with you. You know them; you can trust them."

"I'm worried about Natzlin," Dorrin said. "I know she's physically recovered from her wounds, but she's been so quiet...I don't know if she can recover from Barra."

"Better here with you than anywhere else," Selfer said. "And you wouldn't know this, but I've heard rumors about her and someone in a village near-not Kindle, but Oakmotte. Best thing for her, if it works out."

"You're right," Dorrin said. "And I could use as many as want to leave. They-and you-have accomplished a lot with the Verrakaien militia, but it takes more than a half-year or so to change a lifetime's habit."

Selfer's talk to the cohort resulted in seven more choosing to stay. He and Dorrin went over the accounts that afternoon as the cohort prepared to march-he insisting that the cohort had eaten enough at her table to wipe out the debts for which she'd signed and Dorrin determined not to take advantage. They shook hands on it at last. The next day a stiff north wind blew the rain clouds south, and the following morning Selfer mounted and led the cohort away, with Andressat, bundled to the nose, riding beside him. Dorrin watched her former cohort go with a lump in her throat. She'd thought she was past mourning for her old life, but that last glimpse of the fox-head pennant disappearing into the trees pierced her heart.

Enough. It was done, it was over, and she must waste no more time. She looked at the fifteen left behind, whose expressions showed what she felt, along with a determination to stick with the choice they'd made. "It's time to put on Verrakai uniforms," she said. "Change, and then come back and I'll take your oaths." They were back very shortly, bare legs now in gray wool trousers, blue tunics instead of maroon over them. Dorrin took their oaths using the same form she had used for the original Verrakai militia, with her squires as witnesses.

"You'll be the nucleus, the training cadre, for the force I'm supposed to keep ready for the Crown," Dorrin said. After what she'd heard from Andressat, she had no doubt the king would need it. "What I'm proposing now is that you'll be split into three hands, each hand having a sergeant and two corporals-though I expect you'll all be promoted within two years. You'll be paired with two or more hands of the existing militia, and I'm going to give each of the squires a chance to command one of these groups. I'll expect you to work with the new Girdish bartons and granges, to recruit suitable young people to the militia, and keep improving the skills and fitness of those already in."

"How much fighting do you think we'll see?"

"I don't know," Dorrin said. "I still don't know where all my relatives are, or when trouble might erupt elsewhere. But with you for a core, and the squires as trainee commanders, I can disperse the militia to cover more of the domain-and as you help the militia grow, that will improve even more. I'm thinking now of ten-day patrols, village to village with an overnight or two-night stay in each. One group will stay here, while the other two go out, and then rotate. You can model the proper way to move troops and treat civilians."

Next morning, Gwenno Marrakai headed east with her fifteen, under orders to patrol as far as the Lyonyan border, if possible, and then return. On the fifth day, Dorrin sent Dar Serrostin west. Beclan Mahieran, predictably, grumbled about being the last to leave on patrol.

"Why?" he asked.

Dorrin gave him her best quelling look. "The short answer is, because I ordered it. The longer answer-which you would have had without asking if you'd been patient-is that I wanted you for the south sector, which I consider the most difficult. You'll be going as far as Konhalt lands; as you know, they're also under attainder, and have a new count they don't know. It would not surprise me to find rebels lurking in the woods down there. You will have two full tensquads, not just three hands of troops, and you have been given an extra ten days to work with them, to come to know them, before you leave."

He looked abashed, as well he might. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't think-"

"Not thinking can get you killed," Dorrin said. "Put in this time with your troops-convince them you care about them, and expect them to perform well. Think about the possibilities, all along the way: where ambushes might be placed, where allies might be found."

"Yes, my lord," Beclan said. Dorrin could tell from his expression that he was thinking-and he had a good tactical mind, she'd learned, when he chose to use it for the right reasons.

Lyonya

Kieri had just finished breakfast when he heard voices in the entrance, louder than usual. One of his Squires looked out.

"Sir King, it's a courier."

"If you please," Kieri said to his breakfast companions, and they cleared the room at once as the courier hurried in. To the courier, Kieri said, "You are fatigued; will you have breakfast?"