Firewalk (15 page)

The memory of the speaking crystal tucked carefully away pricked at Kayli’s mind. Oh, how she wished for Brisi’s wise counsel right now! Perhaps Kairi, too, would have some advice, or at least reassurance, to give her. But she could no longer lean on her mentor or her family for guidance. And it would be questionable at best for her to seek advice in Bregond on the governing of Agrond.

Kayli sighed and relentlessly disciplined her mind into calm. She’d be of no use to Randon or Agrond in her present confusion. Whether or not she actually felt confident in her role as High Lady she must at least seem so for Randon’s sake.

At least it could be no more difficult than journeying to a strange country, being beset by Sarkondish raiders, marrying and bedding and being Awakened by a man she’d never met. That thought gave her comfort even as it drew her down into sleep.

Chapter Six

By midmorning, Kayli decided she had been half-right. Sitting in audience as High Lady of Bregond was, in fact, no more difficult than journeying to a strange country, being beset by Sarkondish raiders, marrying and bedding and being Awakened by a man she’d never met; however, it was far more disagreeable.

In Bregond each of the clans had at least one adjudicator, studied in Bregondish law to settle ordinary disputes. Small towns and villages relied on the adjudicators of the clans that passed through with the seasonal circuit of the herds. Some cases were, of course, too large for the adjudicators’ authority; other matters fell on the gray line where the law was unclear. At times adjudicators might feel they were biased and should not rule on a case; sometimes, too, two or more adjudicators might hear a case and disagree amongst themselves. Those matters only were brought before the High Lord and Lady.

In Agrond there appeared to be no adjudicators. The noble houses themselves judged many cases in the lands which they held, but they had no special training in the law and often their own interests were involved, making their decisions questionable. Larger cities had a system of governors and judges, but their concentration was on punishing crime rather than settling civil disputes. So, apparently, these cases came before the High Lord and Lady. After listening to Randon rule on two farmers’ squabble over six bushels of turnips harvested from a patch of disputed field, Kayli wondered how the royal house of Bregond had any time for rulership. When the farmers left, she quietly asked Randon as much.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered back. “I’m told we only have to do this two mornings in each sevenday. We’ll sit a bit oftener, though, until some of this backlog is cleared up.”

Unfamiliar with Agrondish law, Kayli preferred to sit quietly and nod at Randon’s judgments; several times she noticed that if she’d ruled by Bregondish principles, the result would have been quite different. Near noon, however, a case arose which interested her. Two lords had come with a dispute over a large area of land which included a good-sized town and many farms. Each had brought surveys, maps, and deeds to prove their claim, and a spokesman from the town had come, too.

After studying the documents, it was plain that a simple mistake had been made long ago when the course of a river which had marked the division of the lands had been diverted to irrigate the farms. By Agrondish law, both lords had a legal claim to the land. The dispute had never been resolved, but the two noble houses had shared governorship of the land and the town, dividing the taxes and harvest times equally. Because of last year’s poor harvest, however, the land had yielded little income to the lords and the previously amiable disagreement had dissolved into hostility.

Randon was stymied, but Kayli had heard at the Order of a similar case, and she gestured to the townsman to come forward.

“Until now, both houses have shared in the income provided by your farms,” Kayli said. “How have they shared in their responsibilities? Who provided protection for the people?”

“Lord Ethen and Lord Reive have always divided the duty, High Lady,” the man said a little hesitantly. “But last year’s harvest was poor, as they’ve said, and when we couldn’t pay the taxes due, Lord Reive withdrew his men.”

“But Lord Ethen’s guards have continued to protect the village?” Kayli asked.

“Yes, High Lady.” The man hesitated almost imperceptibly before speaking the title.

“Then, Lord Ethen, the lands and town are yours,” Kayli said, inclining her head to the lord. “Duty is not the servant of profit, and a lord who will not protect his lands and people in poverty as well as plenty does not deserve to hold them. The deeds and title to the land will be rewritten accordingly.”

Lord Ethen and Lord Reive glanced from Kayli to Randon and back again, and for an anxious moment Kayli thought Lord Reive would protest, but at last both lords bowed and turned silently away, and she breathed a silent sigh of relief.

“You may have won us an ally,” Randon murmured as the lords took their papers to the court scribe. “Lord Ethen is influential with other nobility in the area, and he’s always supported Terralt.”

“And Lord Reive?” Kayli asked as quietly.

“Well, he supported Terralt, too,” Randon admitted. “But to tell you the truth, I think you impressed him a bit. As you did me,” he added. “That case had me puzzled.”

His praise warmed Kayli’s heart, and the reception of her first decision as High Lady of Agrond bolstered her confidence. For the remainder of the morning she took a more active role in judging the cases brought before them. When the servants closed the doors for dinner, however, Kayli was vastly relieved, surprised to discover how tense and anxious she’d been.

She was surprised, too, when Terralt joined them at the table for dinner.

“I sat at the back and watched most of the hearings,” he said between bites of roast fowl. “Not bad for your first audience, although I doubt the clenched hands and white knuckles impressed anyone.”

“I’m sure it reassured them to know that I didn’t take my judgments casually,” Randon said, grinning. “I’ll be satisfied if I ever become accustomed to the job enough that every new case doesn’t set my stomach to twisting. I think Kayli has more talent for this sort of thing than I do.”

Terralt glanced up from his plate, his eyes twinkling mockingly.

“I’d be inclined to agree,” he said.

Randon, however, refused to take offense.

“Then you’ll have to teach me,” he said to Kayli. “Laws vary from land to land, but justice at least remains constant.”

“Or injustice,” Terralt muttered, but Kayli chose to ignore the remark.

“I promised Kayli a ride in the country, and I believe I’ll take her this afternoon,” Randon said at last. “The Bright Ones know we could use a little fresh air. Would you care to come, Terralt?”

“Thank you, no,” Terralt said, shaking his head resignedly. “Maybe you can spend an afternoon in idleness, Randon, but I can’t. You gave me those figures to check against the stores, remember? And then Lord Ethen and Lord Reive have invited me to supper while they’re in town.”

“Well, that should be pleasant,” Randon said, chuckling. “If they’re speaking to each other at all after this morning’s judgment, that is.”

“It’s a pity the quarrel ever had to come this far,” Terralt said, shrugging. “Their houses have lived in peace for generations.” He turned to Kayli. “If you’d simply ordered Lord Reive to live up to his half of the responsibility for those lands, the town would’ve been that much better off and
both
lords would’ve walked away smiling. Reive’s son was due to wed Ethen’s daughter this summer anyway, so that would’ve solved the whole problem. Now the wedding will likely be canceled, at least until Reive stops sulking, which may take a year or two.”

Terralt’s statement troubled Kayli deeply. Suddenly she was ashamed of her pride in her decision. She’d made a judgment without knowing all the facts, and the peace between two noble houses would suffer for it.

“Terralt, Kayli hasn’t had time to toss sweetmeats to the nobility, as you have,” Randon said patiently. “She’d hardly be expected to know the family situation of every noble house in Agrond, or even to remember them in her first audience if she did. The Bright Ones know I didn’t know about the wedding, so it’s hardly common knowledge. And you can lay a fair share of the blame on yourself, too. Lady Aville came up to advise me on points of law at least a dozen times; you could’ve put a quiet word in Kayli’s ear or mine, and we’d have thanked you for it.”

“Really?” Terralt drawled. “I thought you wanted me to keep my mouth shut except by your express invitation.”

Randon set down his goblet and faced Terralt squarely.

“If it gives you pleasure to exercise your spite in silence and inaction, do so,” he said levelly. “But don’t come to me or Kayli later and blame us for not possessing information you could have—
should
have—given us. Kayli, if you’ve finished your supper, I suggest we go. I’m suddenly inclined to leave Terralt to his figures and his social maneuvers.”

Kayli felt it wisest that she not intervene this time between Randon and Terralt, so she said nothing, only followed Randon quietly back to their rooms, where she changed into her riding clothes. When she emerged from the dressing room, Randon had already donned a simple tunic and trousers.

“I had to arrange for guards to ride with us,” he said ruefully. “I never needed them when I was only Terendal’s ne’er-do-well younger son. Now, though, as High Lord presumptive, it’s not safe for me to ride out alone, especially if you’re with me, I’m afraid. Well, I see you’re ready. Why don’t you help me saddle the mare—Carada, I think you called her—and I can try her paces.”

Maja was glad to see Kayli, and Randon handled Carada so confidently that Kayli was certain the mare would give him no trouble. He had a little difficulty with the high Bregondish saddle, and it took him a little practice to master the long single rein and the foot and knee commands Kayli showed him, but at last he got himself settled comfortably.

Kayli was a little dismayed by the size of their escort—there were eight guards, all fully armed and armored—but she fairly trembled to get out of the walled castle and see Agrond, to feel fresh wind through her hair. Maja danced in her eagerness to stretch her legs, and it was with some impatience that Kayli fell in behind the four guards riding in front of her and Randon.

When the palace gates opened, Kayli thought eagerly that she’d get a good look at Tarkesh, but although they emerged into the city, the guards turned quickly, almost hastily, onto a small side road which reached one of the city gates in a surprisingly short time. Even the brief glimpse of Tarkesh, however, impressed her with the vast size of the city. Most of the buildings were of wood, which in itself was a wonder; Bregondish buildings were made of bricks of mud and dried grass or, less frequently, of stone. There was an amazing proliferation here of businesses, both shops and mobile vendors hawking their wares from small stands, carts, or baskets. Kayli stared at the unfamiliar fruits and vegetables so longingly that Randon could do nothing but call the whole procession to a halt and buy her a small basket of bright red berries to nibble as they rode. The merchant would not accept Randon’s coin, only smiling proudly as he pressed the basket into Randon’s hand, but he gave Kayli a glance that was far less friendly. As they rode on, Kayli saw a good many more hostile expressions, some directed at Randon but more at her. Perhaps Randon had spoken the simple truth about the dangers of riding through the city.

The guards at the gate seemed surprised to see their High Lord arrive unexpectedly in his riding clothes, but they opened the gates, and Kayli sighed with relief. Somehow she’d half expected to be confined to the city, just as the citizens of the city seemed determined to keep her prisoner in the castle.

Before her stretched the fields of Agrond, and Kayli could only sit silently gaping for a moment, awed by all that green just as she had been when she’d first left Bregond. But this was not wild, unsettled lands; these were the famed fields of Agrond, lush and green and tall already, even though it was only the end of spring, and all that greenness would one day be food. Kayli was astounded by the sheer enormity of it all. It seemed incomprehensible that she could be utterly
surrounded
by food. Why, surely what she was looking at alone could feed most of Bregond through the cold season!

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Randon said, interrupting her thoughts. “And that’s just the first harvest of the year. We’ll get another in mid-autumn if the weather’s good.”

“Two harvests?” Kayli said, very quietly. “You can grow all this food from this land and harvest
twice
in a year?”

Randon chuckled.

“We can thank Bregond and Sarkond for that, although the farmers seldom do,” he said. “The worst of the weather seems to vent its fury on your plains and Sarkond’s foothills and moderates before it reaches us. Flooding’s a bigger problem.”

She could well imagine. Everywhere she looked there were small streams or large streams, muddy or running clear over gravel. She wondered if she’d ever seen so much water at one time in her life, except possibly the stormy night she’d fled with Terralt across Agrond. To Bregondish plainsfolk, all this water was a treasure even greater than the fields.

“It is beautiful,” she admitted. “But, Randon, where can you possibly hunt in all this settlement?”

“We’ll be out of the fields very shortly,” he told her. “As soon as we cross the Coridowyn, there are no more farms; because of the levees on this side, the land floods too often there, so it’s clear riding all the way to the forest.”

They passed fields and more fields, and it shocked Kayli to the depths of her spirit to realize that this was only a small part of the farms around Tarkesh, and the farms around Tarkesh were only a small part of the farms throughout Agrond. What a wonderful and terrifying prospect—so much food, enough to feed a huge population, and yet a system so delicate because it depended on the whims of the weather. Why, a drought here could be even more devastating than in Bregond. Water holes and streams on the plains were few, but the plants and animals (and people) of Bregond had accustomed themselves to a harsher, drier climate.