The Horse Lord (37 page)

Uttering a small sound lost between a snarl and a half-stifled sob, he kicked the grisly trophy out of sight.

“He is dead, Lord King. By his own choice and his own hand in the rite of
tsepanak’ulleth
. I… did not witness it.”

“I see.” Rynert looked beyond Aldric’s respectfully bowed head and caught Dewan watching them both with an odd expression on his face. Almost like a smile. “You knew,” the king continued, “that such a suicide would forestall my seizing Clan Talvalin’s lands? If I intended such a step.”

Aldric looked up, and all the stiff-lipped pride of sixty generations was frozen on his face. The grey-green eyes remained unreadable. “Of course I knew it,
mathern-an
. If I said otherwise I would be a liar or a fool. But my concern was first and foremost with my brother’s honour. Believe me or not, as you will.”

“I believe you,
Aldric-arluth
.” Rynert used that title quite deliberately, watching for a reaction. It was not what he had expected.

“I would… would plead exception from the title for a while yet, Lord King,” the young man ventured softly. “1 was never trained for it and…
Mathern-an arluth
, this citadel holds memories for me; too many for my peace of mind. In a year, maybe. Or two. Appoint a castellan to hold this place for me—until I come back.”

“Come back from where, my lord? Valhol, perhaps?”

“I think not, Lord King. The memories are there as well, you see.”

“Then if you should venture to the Empire—”

“
Mathern-an
, why should I do that?” Something in his tone of voice suggested Aldric’s question was not as naive as he made it sound, and Rynert let a faint smile cross his face.

“As a favour to your… to a valuable, high-ranking friend, shall we say?”

“Why not? I may well visit the Drusalan Empire after all. Sometime or other.”

“When
... If
you do, then convey, ah, certain messages of some delicacy to my allies there. Prokrator Bruda and—”

“Lord General Goth?”

“Quite so. You know what the situation of the Empire is; those two want no more wars of conquest and especially no invasion of this realm. They need my personal assurances that I believe them. You, Lord Aldric, are of sufficient rank to carry such assurances. Certain codes and phrases will be implanted
here”
—Rynert almost, but not quite, touched his fingertips to Aldric’s head— “where they will be forgotten by yourself until Goth and Bruda speak words which will release them. Only then will you remember. Do you understand me?”

Aldric understood—and did not like it very much. “Is that all?” he asked, a little sharply. Rynert smiled again, without amusement now, and shook his head.

“Not quite. If there is any favour you—and Isileth— can do to further prove my friendship then I expect it to be done. Purely as a token of good will, you understand?”

“I probably do…” Aldric fitted a sardonic, careless grin on to a face which did not want to carry it; then he rose, bowed as a clan-lord and walked swiftly from the room. He was uncertain which would have been more hazardous, his acceptance or a blunt refusal. Somehow he fancied the refusal would have made him feel more comfortable… Then he shrugged. The thing was done, one way or another.

It was chilly in the courtyard; the sun had not yet risen and there were threads of mist hanging in the air. Aldric swung into his saddle and with a packhorse in tow, rode out of Dunrath and cantered east to join the Radmur road. From the ramparts of the donjon, three people watched him go.

“Hold this place till I come back,” King Rynert muttered, somewhat dubiously. “Now that we’ve let him go, will he come back at all?”

The rider and the sun crested the eastern slope together, so that he was lost in a glare of white light and golden vapour. Gemmel leaned against the battlements and watched, even though there was nothing he could see. The enchanter made no reply to Rynert’s question. He might not even have heard it. Within the fortress walls, a bell signalled the coming of dawn.

“He will,” said ar Korentin firmly. “Duergar and cu Ruruc learnt that much, to their cost. Aldric Talvalin always comes back. When it suits him, and in his own good time.”

Warmed by the sun, the mist thinned from the empty ridge, then faded and was gone.