The Forbidden Land (35 page)

‘Wish with all your heart?’ Jay said, colour surging into his cheeks. She nodded, crossing her fingers and closing her eyes, scrunching up her face as she wished with all her will and desire. Then they retreated back to the corner, still clutching each other’s hands. ‘Oh, I’m so happy,’ Finn cried. ‘Though my
dai-dein
is going to be angry!’

‘I think your mother will be rather relieved,’ Jay said. ‘She always kent ye were no’ cut out to be the ruler o’ Rurach!’

‘I’ll rebuild the Tower o’ Searchers,’ Finn said, going off into a daydream. ‘People will come and ask me to search things out for them, magical swords, dragon’s treasure, kidnapped heirs …’

‘Lost puppies,’ Jay said.

She punched his arm. ‘I’ll be able to go off on quests all the time and they’ll pay me a fortune to do so! I’ll restore Rurach’s fortune for my
dai-dein
.’

‘Just try no’ to steal too much o’ it,’ Jay replied dryly. ‘Ye dinna want to be the first banprionnsa to lose her hand.’

‘I shall only steal things back for the rightful owners,’ Finn promised. ‘Ye shall have to come and help me. Ye’ll play the dragon to sleep while I steal his treasure.’

‘I’ll rescue ye when they throw ye into prison for picking someone’s pocket,’ he replied, laughing.

‘It’s a deal!’ she cried. ‘Let’s shake on it.’

And solemnly they shook hands, as behind them the Samhain fire sank into ashes.

The city of Bride sprawled along the shore of the bay, hundreds of tall spires competing to see which could soar highest into the sky. Many gleamed with gilt in the pale spring sunshine, which sparkled upon the blue waters. The bay was filled with ships, most of them fighting galleons with ornately carved figureheads and a great mesh of rigging which showed black against the pale sky. The ships guarded the city from attack from the sea, allowing the Fealde to concentrate her troops on protecting the city walls.

Enormously thick and high, the city walls were all topped by cruel steel spikes that curved out and down, making them almost impossible to breach. There were only four gates, each stoutly defended with immense barbicans. Each gate had to be approached via a long enclosed tunnel, with heavy iron gates at one end and a massive iron-bound oak door at the other. Narrow machicolations in the tunnel walls were protected by archers, so that any enemy attempting to storm the gates would be slaughtered long before they reached the inner door.

As if those defences were not impregnable enough, Bride had been built in three concentric rings, so that it was indeed three cities, one within another. The outer city was crammed between the external walls and the first of the inner walls, a labyrinth of small, dark, cramped buildings where the poor scratched out a meagre living. The middle city was protected from their impecunious neighbours by another high wall, broken once more by four heavy gates. Within this area lived the merchants and the artisans. The further away from the inner wall one lived, the wider the streets and the bigger the houses. There were parks here and wide avenues of flowering trees and many grand mansions.

Then there was the inner city, built within the last circle of high stone walls and protected by many stout watchtowers. There soared the spires of the Great Kirk, a most magnificent building with many tall lancet windows of crystal that glittered in the sunshine and a square belfry where enormous bells tolled out the hours. Clustered about it were the mansions of the aristocracy and the highly ranked churchmen, surrounded by formal gardens and esplanades.

Beyond stretched a great park of velvety green, broken here and there by copses of ancient trees. A long avenue of flowering Starwood led the eye to the royal palace, Gerwalt, set like a jewel within its gardens and reflected within the waters of a long rectangular pool, lined with intricate knots of hedges and tall cypress trees. Built of soft grey stone, Gerwalt was both an impregnable fortress and a palace of immense elegance, with many small turrets rising up to the central tower, which was topped with a cone-shaped spire. From the flagpoles fluttered the all-too-familiar white flag with its design of a red fitché cross.

All this the Greycloaks could see from their position on top of the hills which surrounded the bay. They had set up camp outside Bride a week ago, but not all their long observation could see any way of breaking the city’s defences.

‘We could besiege them for a year and no’ break the stalemate,’ Lachlan said gloomily.

‘And unless we can seize control o’ the harbour, we canna prevent them from bringing in supplies anyway,’ Duncan Ironfist said just as gloomily. ‘We could sit here and twiddle our thumbs for the rest o’ our lives and no’ manage to break the city.’

‘We shall just have to make the Bright Soldiers come out and fight us here,’ Iseult said.

‘But why would they?’ Leonard the Canny said. ‘The Fealde kens she is safe within the city walls. She will never come out.’

Lachlan strode back and forth along the ridge, scowling darkly, his wings rustling. ‘Canna we challenge the Fealde to single combat?’ he said suddenly. ‘Is that no’ an important ritual here, far more important that in Rionnagan or Blèssem?’

‘It is an important aspect o’ our law,’ Elfrida answered in her high, sweet voice. She was sitting on the grass, her skirts spread round her, picking daisies and weaving them into a chain. ‘Anyone who has been accused o’ a crime can undergo trial by battle, in which their guilt or innocence is decided by a test o’ arms. Clergymen, women, bairns, or those who are blind or crippled in some way can nominate a champion to fight on their behalf.’

‘Ye mean ye do no’ have a trial in which evidence is heard and weighed, and eyewitnesses called?’ Duncan Ironfist exclaimed.

‘Aye, but eyewitnesses often he and evidence can be falsified,’ Elfrida answered. ‘Trial by ordeal puts the judgement in the hands o’ God.’

‘But surely whomever is the strongest and most skilled at arms is the one who wins?’ Duncan objected.

Elfrida nodded. ‘Aye, that is true and since the Fealde’s champion is specifically trained in single combat, it is rare indeed that a criminal escapes justice.’

‘But what if they are falsely accused?’

‘Then God would ensure their safety,’ Elfrida replied with childlike naiveté.

Duncan and Iseult exchanged an incredulous glance, and the Banrìgh said with spurious sweetness, ‘Tell Duncan about the other ways a criminal can be tried and judged.’

‘Well, there be ordeal by fire, where the accused must pass through flames in order to prove their innocence. Any sign o’ burning is seen as proof o’ guilt. Then there be the ordeal by water, where criminals are held below the water. Water is the blessed medium o’ baptism, so if it receives the accused, it is a sign they be innocent but if it buoys them up, then they be guilty.’

‘So if they can swim, they are dragged out and executed, and if they canna swim, they drown. Neat, isn’t it?’ Iseult said.

This time, Elfrida heard the sarcasm in Iseult’s voice and flushed vividly. ‘Ye may mock our judicial system but we have very little crime,’ she cried angrily. ‘No’ like Lucescere where ye have to carry your purse hung inside your clothes because o’ all the pickpockets.’

‘I did no’ think to hear ye defend the Fealde,’ Iain said with a faint stress of reproof in his voice. ‘Surely ye can see such a trial is terribly flawed. Ye yourself were wrongfully imprisoned most o’ your life, dearling, and Killian the Listener too. He was never given a fair trial, ye ken that. Did he no’ suffer the ordeal by water? Would he no’ have died if the crowd had no’ broken through the ranks o’ the soldiers and dragged him free o’ the dunking-pool?’

‘Being the instrument o’ God’s will in doing so,’ Elfrida replied obstinately. She stood up, the daisy chain falling unheeded from her lap.

‘Happen that is so,’ Leonard the Canny said placatingly. ‘God moves in mysterious ways.’

Elfrida nodded in agreement, though her face was still set in stubborn lines.

‘So if we challenged the Fealde to prove her innocence by ordeal by combat, would she be required to submit?’ Lachlan said impatiently. ‘It is in my mind that we could win Bride without having to waste our strength by trying to breach all those walls. Canna we contrive it so that the whole outcome o’ the war rests upon one single battle, between the champions o’ Elfrida and the Fealde?’

All stared at Lachlan, fascinated and afraid. ‘But what if we lost?’ Iseult objected.

‘We shallna lose,’ Elfrida said. ‘Right is on our side.’

‘We canna lose,’ Lachlan said. ‘The whole country must see the Fealde defeated. For if Elfrida is right about the significance o’ trial by combat, her defeat will be seen as a clear sign from their god that her reign is over and that she has been found guilty by both the judicial system and by the kirk. Do ye understand? This must be a spectacle that all will watch, and there canna be any confusion about the outcome. The Fealde’s champion must die.’

‘She will no’ be easily defeated,’ Leonard said, troubled. ‘The Fealde’s champion has never lost a trial by battle. She is a woman o’ incredible strength and skill, trained, in the use o’ all hand weapons. I am a cavalier, used to fighting from horseback. Although I have been taught to fight hand to hand, as all Bright Soldiers are, I must admit to some trepidation.’

‘I do no’ mean for ye to fight,’ Lachlan said. ‘I ken ye are a brave man and loyal indeed to your banprionnsa, but if this ordeal by single combat is to achieve all I want it to achieve, I must be the one to face the Fealde’s champion.’

Immediately there was an outcry.

‘Nay, master! Ye canna risk yourself so,’ Dide cried.

‘But
leannan
, ye ken ye were no’ trained to fight from the cradle as this berhtilde would have been,’ Iseult objected. ‘I myself taught ye to fight and ye were already a grown man. I ken ye are a strong and bonny fighter now, but she would have the greater experience …’

‘Your Highness, I am your captain; I will fight,’ Duncan Ironfist said, going down heavily on one knee before his Rìgh.

Lachlan smiled at him affectionately. ‘Thank ye, my friend. I do no’ doubt that ye would be a better choice, the stoutest-hearted man I have ever kent. But nay. It must be I who fights.’

Dillon flung himself on his knees, gripping the intricately coiled hilt of his sword with both hands. ‘Please, Your Highness, let me fight for ye. Ye ken
Joyeuse
has never been defeated!’

Lachlan raised him with one strong hand, then bent and pulled Duncan to his feet also. ‘Such loyal, true men I have to serve me,’ he said, his voice rather thick. ‘But would I send a lad to die for me, or a man who will never see forty years again? Nay, I would no’! More importantly, I do no’ fight on my own behalf but on Elfrida’s. Have we no’ told the people o’ Tìrsoilleir that I am this angel o’ death, come to lead her army and win back her throne for her? Do I no’ proclaim myself the sword o’ their god? Canna ye see this is a true test? It is no’ just the Fealde I need to convince here but every Tìrsoilleirean man, woman and bairn!’

They were all silent. Iseult was white to the lips but she showed no other sign of her fear. After a long moment of stillness, she came forward and laid her hand on Lachlan’s arm. ‘Are ye sure ye are willing to risk your life so?’

‘Every time I fight in battle I risk my life! At least here there will be only one foe and I shall ken she’s attacking!’

‘We must plan this carefully,’ Leonard said. ‘There is no use fighting such a battle beyond the city walls. Even if ye should win, Your Highness, they will just shut the gates against us and we shall have gained naught.’

‘Aye, it must be within the inner sanctum,’ Donald said. ‘And we must have a force with us, for they shall plan treachery, no doubt o’ that.’

‘It must be within a public arena,’ Iseult said. ‘If the whole point is to prove Elfrida’s right to rule to the people o’ Bride, the people must be able to see her.’

‘We shall have to goad her into agreeing,’ Leonard said. ‘We must make any refusal seem like an admission o’ guilt. We must give her no other course o’ action but to send her champion against ye.’

Lachlan nodded. ‘Let us sit down and write the charges against the Fealde, and let us make the wording as contemptuous and mocking as possible!’

The next day a long procession rode out of the army camp, led by Lachlan upon his high-stepping black stallion. The Rìgh was dressed all in white and gold, with a gold circlet upon his black curls. He held aloft a gilded sword, blade upwards, which shone in the long rays of sunlight pouring down upon the Rìgh’s head. Heavy clouds, rumbling with thunder, hung over the city but where the Rìgh’s procession rode, all was bright.

On either side of the Rìgh trotted the standard-bearers. Dillon carried a square banner of forest green, upon which the white stag of the MacCuinns leapt, a golden crown in its antlers. Connor, acting as Elfrida’s squire, carried the red flag of the MacHilde clan, with its black gauntlet holding a golden sword. Behind fluttered the flags of all those that supported Elfrida, in every device and colour possible, including those of the ten prionnsachan.

Before Lachlan marched the pipers and the drummers, skirling and pounding away. They came to a halt before the main gate of Bride, and there was a loud flourish of trumpets. Then Leonard the Canny dismounted and strode forward. He was dressed in full armour, the visor of his helmet lowered, his red cloak blowing back in the wind. With great deliberation, he removed his heavy gauntlet and flung it to the ground.

‘I, Leonard Adalheit, Duke of Adalric, Earl of Friduric, Baron of Burnaby, due hereby charge thee, Ulrica of Bride, self-proclaimed Fealde o’ the General Assembly o’ the Great Kirk, o’ the following crimes, in the name o’ our blessed banprionnsa and lady, Elfrida Elise NicHilde, the only daughter and heir o’ Dieter Dearborn MacHilde, and direct descendant o’ Berhtilde the Bright-maid, bearer o’ the golden sword and founder o’ the great land o’ Tìrsoilleir, the Bright Land.’

Then, with a great many flourishes, he read out the proclamation which he and Lachlan had laboured over until the wee small hours. It accused the Fealde and the elders of the General Assembly of murder, manslaughter, false arrest and imprisonment, treason, sedition, embezzlement and fraud. Leonard would have included many more, such as heresy, unorthodoxy, lewdness and licentiousness, but Lachlan wished to make this a political matter, not a religious one.

Leonard the Canny had a strong carrying voice and Gwilym the Ugly was able to use his magic to amplify the sound so it boomed out over the city, causing birds to rise screaming in their thousands and horses to neigh and rear. The only answer was the booming of the city cannons, which failed to cause any damage to the ranks of Lachlan’s supporters, who had been careful to stop well out of range.

He repeated his challenge at sunset, a pronounced sneer in his voice, and again at dawn the next day. This time there was a response, an angry refutation of the charges and counter-accusations against Elfrida and Lachlan, who was described variously as a foul demon, a heretic, blasphemer and apostate, a
uile-bheist
and monster, and a false idol. Leonard the Canny did not retire to ponder the charges but immediately and angrily threw down his gauntlet.

‘In the name o’ Elfrida NicHilde, banprionnsa o’ Tìrsoilleir, I challenge ye to prove these false and vile charges in a trial o’ arms, where the judgement o’ God Our Father shall prove her faith and innocence beyond the faintest shadow o’ a doubt. Name your champion!’