Nor Iron Bars A Cage (27 page)

-Sounds more like something the Earthmother would do.

-Yeah. My mother too.

Xan felt tired, resigned, bitterly amused.
-Tell me then, if you’d been in that village, would you have shared the cure with a man of the mountains and his small son?

I wanted to lie and say, of course, I’d have made sure they got what they needed. But although I wasn’t a historian, I had enough interest to have read accounts of those desperate days. And he would know if I lied.

I said,
-Probably not. I’d never throw a stone at a child, but… you have to understand, the Plague hit my people hard too. Not like yours, killing everyone. But among us, one in four died in the next three years. And one in ten of the NaR’gin. Spreadtree corms were worth more than gold, more than any price. Boiled and eaten early in the sickness, they brought down the killing fever, enough to prevent the convulsions and damage. They saved many lives, but not all. And there were never even close to enough to go around.

I tried to recall the words in the old texts, to give him the feel of it.
-People went crazy looking for them. Almost all the spreadtrees in the populated lands were cut down and uprooted, and the corms clinging to their roots were taken. The trees grow slowly, and only in wet, low-lying places. A person who had a tree on their land might wake one morning to find it had been dismantled in the night, and their friends and neighbors were digging around like demented badgers, searching for every last corm.

So out in the dry foothills here, a town likely had few, if any, local sources, and no way to get more. They’d have had many sick and dead of their own. If there was any root left, by the time you came, it would still have been less than their own needs. And if I’d been there… no, I probably would not have taken the cure from my family’s mouth to give to yours.

I felt him go still and silent. It was a relief to be free of the burning flame of his emotions. I sagged gratefully against the back of the chair. Tobin said, “Still all right? Better?”

“His whole tribe died of the plague. He chose to die with them.”

King Faro inclined his head in a shallow bow. “My condolences, Chief Xan. The whole ruling family of this land died then too. Those who were not killed by the plague were put to the sword by the NaR’gin, down to the smallest babe in arms.” I translated that, word for word.

The door opened and Doyd came in tentatively. He saluted the king and said, “You sent for me, Sire?”

“We’re negotiating with Chief Xan for any bargain he might make with us. I thought having someone familiar with the modern tribes would be useful.”

I had a sudden thought. “Doyd, are there still Swiftrock tribesmen?”

“There is a tribe by that name.”

“What are the clans?”

“Um, Leehawk, Ringfox, and Marmot.”

“Marmot.” Xan hadn’t said he ever went back to the camp of his third clan. I asked,
-Chief Xan. Did you have word from the Marmot clan, before you, um, died?

-No.

-There is to this day a Marmot clan of the Swiftrock people. No Sheergoat, no Kestrel, but there is a Marmot clan.

-Truly!
I could feel doubt and hope and disbelief surge up in him.
-It need not be the same clan

-But it might be. Would a new clan take the old name?

-There are only so many animals in my hills.
Still there was no doubt that hope was overrunning his doubts.
-I never went there. They had the witchman, and I could give them nothing more. Perhaps some did survive.

I stayed silent for a while, and let him wrestle with the idea. Eventually he said,
-I’d give much to hear their ancestor chants. But no, you say I’ve been dead a hand of hands of generations. The best chants rarely reach that far back.

I said, “He’s asking about ancestor chants.”

Doyd said, “They keep an oral history going. Not a millennium back though, I don’t think. And while I could try to arrange a meeting it couldn’t happen before sunrise tomorrow, even if I rode night and day.”

I passed that along. Xan said,
-Well, I will keep it as a hope. My sister and her sons were Marmot, and still lived, last I saw them there.

There was another long pause. I swayed, feeling more tired than I could remember since the early days inside my stone walls, when sleep came only as a collapse when I could stay awake no longer. I said,
-Could you give up your grudge against people long, long dead and help us now?

-I’ll think on it. But… I’m not sure I can change my nature anymore. There’s not much of me left.

There was a knock on the door. At the king’s command, one of his colonels came in. “Begging your leave, sire, but there’s news from the west.” He glanced around at all of us.

King Faro said, “Just tell it.”

“A message-bird came to Scarphill and they sent a runner on to us. The R’gin ships landed three days ago now. General Estray engaged the enemy. It’s a serious attack, but when the message was sent, the fight was just beginning. They promised more news soon.”

The captain said, “Will you head back there, Sire?”

King Faro shook his head. “The die is cast. I decided this threat in the east was a risk that needed investigating. Knowing that there actually is an army attacking in the west doesn’t change that.”

“A true attack weighed against an unlikely one?”

“No. And it still fits the pattern we considered. If we’d been in the capital when news of the R’gin ships came, we’d have ridden west, two days ago. This part of the border would have been scantily manned and out of my mind. We might even have summoned some of the existing patrols away. That could still be the Prince Regent’s goal.”

“As you say, Sire.” The captain bowed his head.

King Faro turned to the colonel. “See that the messenger is cared for and I’ll meet you in the map room soon.”

When the colonel had gone, the king turned to me, asking simple questions, seeking any kind of clue. I felt no anger from Xan, but when I translated, he simply gave me no answer at all. He seemed to have retreated, far into the distance. Eventually he said,
-Can you leave it until morning? I’d give a lot to simply see the sun again.

I said to the king, “I think we’re better off not pressing him now. Perhaps in the morning. Can you please find out from the mages whether I can safely sleep? I don’t think things will change tonight, and I can’t seem to keep my eyes open. I’m so tired…”

The king looked displeased, but there was little he could do. He sent the guard outside the door to inquire. Firstmage came back himself, and checked me. He worked another binding, and I could feel it pull at Xan, like reins on a horse. Xan muttered,
-I do not like that mage.

-He’s trying to keep me safe.

-He’s trying to compel me.

-You have my word, I’ll do nothing until the morning.

Firstmage said, “I’ve never slept when I had a transference in place. There’s so much to potentially learn and do in this situation. Sorcerer Lyon, if he won’t discuss what we need most to hear, have you at least asked him about the world beyond the veil? About what it’s like to be summoned? Any of the details we all speculate on? I’ve not found a ghost who could, or would, give me an answer, in a circle or in my mind, but I ask them all. It could be vital information for our craft.”

I felt a deep reluctance to examine Xan like a bug pinned to a board. “He asked for time and quiet. I want to give him that.”

Firstmage clucked his tongue at me, like I was some disappointing apprentice. “Well, it should be safe to sleep, I suppose. It’s not what I would choose to do.”

I looked past him at the king. “If we ride out tomorrow, I’d prefer not to fall off my horse.” My muscles felt like jelly, and just sitting upright was an effort.

King Faro said, “Certainly. Use my bed. I have other arrangements to make anyway. Tobin, you’ll watch him of course.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll also stay, if I may,” the captain said. His expression was cool. “I’m not certain Voice Tobin could do what might need to be done.”

Tobin rounded on him with a snarl. “Nothing will need to be
done
.”

“We hope not.”

The king sighed. “Don’t argue, gentlemen. You may both watch. Everyone else, let’s retire to the workroom and the maps.”

Firstmage was last to leave, looking disgruntled. But his king held the door open, and perforce he went through it. The king gave me a last long look, a small nod, and closed the door. Tobin, the captain and I were alone in the room.

Ignoring the captain, Tobin said, “You want to lie down?”

“Oh, yes.” I swayed on my feet.

He took my arm. “This way. Ten steps. You lucky bugger, you’ll be able, all your life after this, to say you slept in the king’s bed.” At my snort, he added quickly, “Not like that, of course.”

The captain muttered, “You’d better not.”

Tobin didn’t so much as look at him. He eased me onto the bed, and tugged off my boots. The mattress was wool-stuffed and comfortable. The sheets were soft. I closed my eyes, but it made me dizzy, as if I’d been launched into empty space and I snapped them open again. Tobin said, “What?”

“I don’t think I can actually sleep. Don’t go too far.”

“Not going anywhere.” He gave the captain a shark’s grin and said, “We could share the bed.”

Whether he was tweaking the captain’s coattail or not, it sounded like heaven. “Yes, please.”

He sat and removed his own boots, and then got onto the bed beside me. I slid over to give him room. He put an arm across my shoulders, warm and steady at my side. In my ear, barely a breath, he whispered, “Pity the captain’s there, but I’d hate to give him apoplexy by making out in front of him in the king’s sheets. What a lost opportunity, eh lion-boy?”

I snorted.

-What does he say?

-Something rude about the soldier.

-I like your man.

I did too. I pressed in closer to him and kept my eyes open. The night passed slowly. I felt Tobin eventually give in to sleep, perhaps fooled by my immobility into thinking I’d done the same. I couldn’t. Every time I thought of letting go, panic yanked my attention back and my eyelids open. But getting some rest, at his side, was far better than nothing.

The king returned in the pre-dawn light. He pushed aside the window tapestry to look at the sky. In the east beyond, the first shading of lavender and gold blushed the sky behind the mountains. Tobin had woken the instant the door opened, but he stayed at my side. The king smiled at me and then at him, and it seemed like genuine affection.

“I’ve bespoken breakfast, any minute now. The horses will be brought around in half an hour.”

I rubbed my eyes and sat up. Xan said,
-What now?

-We eat and then ride out.

-I look forward to both.

I wasn’t so sure. The odd sense of being doubled, of having two of each sensation, was worse this morning than last night. I wondered what it would be like to have Xan with me as I tried to sit a horse, or to eat a piece of bread. But I did feel hungry.

The food arrived shortly. Tobin had barely finished tugging on his boots. It was simple fare, bread and cheese and dried fruit. Xan’s attention was fixed on the plate. I nibbled at first, waiting to see what my innards would think of this oddly intimate sharing. Xan said nothing, but I could in fact feel his pleasure at the sweet-tart taste of the fruit. It bothered me to know that, but not enough to keep me from taking another.

Tobin said, “What’s the plan, sir?”

“We’ll ride out, with the transferred ghost in Sorcerer Lyon along. We plan to ride along the border, starting north at Bridal Veil, which should be the limit of the range Chief Xan named. We’ll move on south toward Tallribbon and the mouth of the Snake River. That stretch has the most caves, and several streams and waterfalls. The ghost called the place “between the waters” and said it was north of Tallribbon, so we’re hedging our bets as best we can. Firstmage hopes that, given the unexpected depth of this transference, even if the ghost won’t tell Lyon any more, he may react in some way that Lyon can sense, if we get near the right place. The scouts went out last night. I have other troops riding out along that and other stretches of the borderlands here. Even if we don’t catch the R’gin emerging, we should be able to spot those bastards before they have a chance to fall on us from behind.”

“So this morning’s effort isn’t essential, really,” Tobin said without looking at me. “For Lyon to do this.”

“Shut up,” I hissed through my teeth. “I promised Xan.”

Tobin frowned, but said no more. The king gave me a nod. “If you’re ready, we’ll mount up in ten minutes.”

I went in search of the garderobe, and Tobin squeezed in behind me. I grumbled, “What, you need to keep an eye on me while I piss, too?”

“We can take turns.” He bumped against my shoulder. “Don’t be angry with me.”

I couldn’t help softening. “I’m not, really. It’s just too late to do anything but see this through.”

“I know. But… there’s a chance we’ll come up against the R’gin, somewhere out there today. And you’re not a fighter.”

I’d forgotten that. One more danger. I don’t think my body had it in me to react to that. “I’ll run away fast then.”

“See that you do.”

I knew I couldn’t ask him to do the same. He was oath-bound to protect the king. I’d been worrying all night about myself, about what if the ghost was just biding its time to take over my mind, or what if Firstmage couldn’t banish it, or what if it tricked me into giving the king the wrong information. I’d forgotten to be afraid for Tobin.

I washed my hands awkwardly as usual, and then gripped Tobin’s bicep and, despite the ghost in my head, I kissed him fast and hard. “And if need be, you fight well, hear me? You dragged me out of my refuge of stone and bars. You can’t abandon me here.”

“You were pretty much out of there on your own already,” Tobin said. “But no, I promise.”

I didn’t correct his faith. If he’d forgotten that night when I sat with a knife pressed to my skin, I wasn’t going to remind him.