Dragonsword #3 3 страница

The fire crackled as Darham considered his reply. Tylha had noticed. Of course she had noticed. Her women had chafed at their inactivity during the war with Gryylth. Now here again was an opportunity for battle, and...

" What, " he said finally, " did you think of our messenger, Dryyim? "

Tylha's eyes narrowed. " He is as arrogant as a tup in October. "

" Aye. Even more than the first Cvinthil sent. And though Wykla did not speak openly to me about her status in Gryylth, her manner told me much. Women' are not esteemed in that land. "

Tylha obviously did not like the trend of Darham's thoughts. " I should think that no one, man or woman, is esteemed in Vaylle. "

" True. "

" A month ago, we spoke of our suspicions, but with this sending from Gryylth, I think we must put our suspicions aside. "

Darham bent his head, studied his thumbs. " I think so. Indeed. "

Again a silence. Tylha's mouth worked. " Will you be sending the women, lord? "

" No. "

Jaw clenched, Tylha bowed and prepared to depart, but Darham called her back.

" Hear me, " he said.

" The king has given his order. He need make no explanation. "

Darham snorted. " We are farmers and the sons and daughters of farmers. We do not stand on formality as do the Gryylthans. Your king, therefore, wishes to make his explanation nonetheless. I respect Cvinthil and his motives, but Gryylth still maintains many of its curious attitudes regarding women, -and I am therefore unsure of its warriors' conduct towards your pha-

lanxes. Good women, wounded, might well be left to die on the battlefield because they are seen as being of lesser worth than their male comrades. "

Tylha nodded unwillingly. " I see your point, lord. But-"

" I have another. " Darham counted for a moment on his ringers. " Cvinthil is committing twelve score warriors and soldiers, but given the attack on Bandon and the presence of the hounds—thank the Gods they have not yet entered Corrin! —I am sure that he is reluctant to leave his land bereft of all defense. "

Realization dawned on Tylha. " He is keeping back some wartroops then. "

" Aye. Some three or four, I would estimate. And with the demonstration of cheek provided by our friend Dryyim, I am afraid to consider what mischief they might do while Cvinthil is across the sea. "

Tylha had the look of a mother suddenly confronted by a pack of misbehaving boys. " I... understand. I do not like it, lord, but I understand. "

" I do not like it either, commander. I am sorry. "

But after Tylha left, Darham stayed by the fire, peering into the flames, pondering. He had not spoken all his thoughts because he did not know all of them as of yet, but he was afraid of where they might lead, given time.

March, and then April, and then May. The weather warmed. In the fields the green crops pushed their way out of the brown earth, and in the pastures the lambs grew up, the foals frisked, and the calves turned sturdy.

In Quay, the shipwrights labored, and the ships that would carry the men of Gryylth and Corrin slowly took shape, first as skeletal carcasses of ribs and keels that lay on the shore like so many clean-picked whales, then as fleshed-out barges and boats with oak planking that gleamed in the morning light. And in a hundred towns and villages across Gryylth, men who had only

a year before known the heedlessness of childhood were taking up pikes and swords, were hacking and stabbing at straw men and inch-thick saplings under the critical eyes of their future commanders, were marching away from their homes and converging on Quay.

The absence of men and older boys had brought a quiet to the streets of Kingsbury, and Relys noticed it keenly as she made her way across the market square, for there were no deep voices booming and shouting, no shrill yelps of mock battle and fistfights. With the failing of the light, in fact, only a few women from outlying villages remained, packing up an unsold chicken or two, or a remaining bolt of cloth. In soft sopranos and altos they chatted with one another, their gestures and movements small and graceful; but if they stared at Relys for a moment because she wore a sword, they made no comment.

Relys passed by, and in a minute, came in sight of the large house that had been given over to Hahle for his use during his frequent visits to the capital. As head of the council of Quay, Hahle was in charge of the ship building, and he had grown to be a powerful man these days. Relys, therefore, could not help but wonder what would cause the councilman to request— politely—that the captain of the First Wartroop come and have dinner with him.

But as Relys turned a corner, shadows—tall, mannish—suddenly blocked her path, and she stiffened. She was a warrior, but she was also a woman alone in a darkened street. Despite Cvinthil's decrees, this was still Gryylth.

She caught herself, gritted her teeth, attempted to ignore the men. She had almost convinced herself that they were also ignoring her when one of them stopped and pointed at her. " And what are you about tonight, woman? "

" She has a sword, Dryyim. "

" And so she does. Most strange! Come here, woman, and explain yourself. "

Even had Relys been the lowliest dairy maid of the frontier, Cvinthil's decrees had given her the same respect as was due a man. But, as she was reminded constantly—subtly or overtly—what Cvinthil had decreed was considerably different at times from what actually happened. Nonetheless, she was no dairymaid, but rather the captain of the First Wartroop, and so she planted herself before the men and folded her arms. " Gods bless, " she said. " Have you anything to report, Dryyim? And you, Lytham? "

But the three men examined her ironically. " Do I know you, woman? " said Dryyim.

Relys knew that they recognized her, but their insolence and disrespect had been growing over the past several weeks, and where before they and their comrades had only sniggered at the women of the war-troop, they now laughed openly. This evening they had an opportunity to harass Relys herself with comparative impunity, for if questioned about their actions, they could easily plead ignorance. The light was bad, and they had not expected to meet her. How were they to know who she was?

Relys steeled herself. She stood a head shorter than Dryyim and his companions, and though she knew herself and her sword, three opponents could make a fight unpleasant, no matter what their skill. " I am Relys of Bandon. You know me. Do not pretend that you do not. "

Lytham scoffed openly. " Does your husband know that you are out alone? "

" Or that you make a practice of lying to the King's Guards? '' put in the third young man.

" Or going about in man's garb? " added Dryyim.

" I tell you—" began Relys, but she caught herself and stood back a pace. How was-it that she deigned to argue with such as these? Inwardly, though, she felt sick, for here was a woman's lot staring her in the

face. She had said it herself, to Alouzon, on that terrible first night: A pretty piece I would make on the block in Bandon, eh? Now she wished that she had never uttered those words.

Dryyim turned to Lytham with a swagger, saying: " I think we should teach—"

Frightened, and angry because of her fright, Relys drew her sword, lifted a foot, and planted it in the small of Dryyim's back. The kick sent him into his companion, and as they fell in a tangle of livery and leather, Relys turned to face her third antagonist.

The sound of swords starting out of their sheaths. " Hold, " she said quietly, and there was a hiss in her voice that kept the swords where they were. " You are so untried that Cvinthil himself has given orders that you and your wartroops be kept at home for further seasoning—like squabs—when the rest depart for Vaylle. And if even one of you survives my sword, do you know the penalties for attacking a captain of Gryylth? "

" Ah. . . I see... " Dryyim flailed out and managed to sit up. " I see that you are indeed Relys of Bandon. "

Relys's voice was as cold as the ball of ice that had formed in her stomach. A pretty piece. . . " You knew that from the start, you insolent whelp. Think twice in the future before you even think to give me offense. " Shuddering at the thought of ever being at the mercy of the newer men of the King's Guard, she turned on her heel and, sheathing her sword, continued up the street.

She did not realize how deeply she had been affected by the encounter until she lifted a hand to knock at Hahle's door. She was shaking violently, and for a moment she struggled to compose herself and wished that she had some of Marrget's strength. -

Womanhood? Marrget had met it as an adversary, and had conquered without yielding an inch. And yet

here was Relys, trembling like a girl because of three men barely out of boyhood.

When she finally knocked, the door was opened by a serving girl who bowed to her in the old manner and gestured her in with a gentle wave of her hand. " My master is waiting for you, " she said. Her voice was high and sweet, and Relys, thanking her, could not help but notice that her own voice was just as high, and—had she allowed the defiant edge to slip even for a moment—just as sweet.

She followed the girl down a short hall, clutching her sword as though it were a dry stick in a rushing torrent.

Hahle was waiting at the table, his head bowed in thought and his right hand covering his face. His bare scalp glistened in the firelight. He was a large man, and his arms, though old, still showed the muscles left by years of sword work. Once, he had been Marrget's teacher, though he freely admitted that the student had far surpassed the master.

Relys's throat tightened. Marrget was gone, killed in her bed. Had she had a chance to awaken? To draw her sword?

But Hahle had risen and was coming forward. After a moment's hesitation, he bowed to Relys as to an equal, but when he seemed baffled as to whether or not to offer his hand, Relys saved him the decision and offered hers. " Greetings, Hahle. Gods bless. "

He took her hand in a firm grip, as relieved as his guest. " Gods bless, Relys. Welcome to my house. Please: come sit and eat. And. . . " He shrugged. " I pray you, forgive my discourtesy. We of Quay are still rustics. "

Dinner was simple: soup and meat, bread, wine. Unadorned country fare. The serving girl passed to and fro quietly, with hardly a footstep to indicate her passage. She herself was from Quay, Relys thought, and had maintained, even in liberal Kingsbury, the

customs that dictated that women's comings and goings should be unobtrusive.

And the mocking faces of the three young guards leered at Relys from out of the liquid reflection in her wine cup. But for her sword, but for her title, she might have been beaten or even raped.

A pretty piece. . .

Hahle gave no indication of the reason for his invitation. He chatted amiably with Relys about the gathering of the new wartroops, about the ship building and the readying of the invasion fleet; and he grew nostalgic as he told some tales of Marrget's training, though at times he seemed uncertain whether to refer to the captain as man or as woman.

" It was the first time Marrget had bested me, " he was saying as his girl cleared the table and refilled their cups. " He tumbled me right into the dirt and laughed. . . " He shook his head. " He was usually so serious. But when he... ah... when she laughed... it was like. . . " He fell silent suddenly.

Relys nodded. " She is gone. "

' 'Aye. And cursed be them that slew her. '' Hahle's jaw tightened. ' 'Killed in her bed. Not even a warrior's death. The death of a commoner, or of a. . . a. . . "

Relys's eyes flickered to the councilman. Hahle had turned crimson. " Or of a woman? " she offered quietly. There was no rancor or anger in her voice. Slips these days were common. Had she avenged every one of them, she would have killed a hundred men since January.

" Forgive me, lady. As I said, I am a rustic. "

" Errors are greatly preferable to insult, " said Relys. " No pardon is necessary. "

Hahle seemed to be sorting out his feelings about dining alone with a woman who was neither his wife nor a potential mistress. To cover his uncertainty, he drank from his cup. " Do you. . . receive much insult? " he asked after a time.

Relys allowed himself a thin smile. " Some of the

younger men of the Guard think themselves entitled to the privileges of their fathers. They are angry that times have changed. "

" They have changed for all of us. " Hahle sighed. " Marrget came to Quay's gate with her companions. I had heard... I mean, I knew of her transformation, but I... I did not recognize her at all. "

Relys heard confusion and sorrow in his voice. " We are all very different, " she said simply.

" I was... " Hahle passed a hand over his face. " I did not make it easy for Marrget while she was in Quay, " he said. " I was thoughtless. She was so different. And. . . " He bent his head suddenly. " And that was her last memory of me. "

" Councilman, " said Relys, " a warrior knows that any parting might be his or her last. Marrget knew that better than anyone. " She noticed, chagrined, that her voice had turned light and soft, even comforting, but she went on. " She always spoke well of you, and I am sure that any memories she took with her into death were tempered by all your previous words and deeds. "

Hahle did not speak for a time. Then: " My thanks, lady. "

" No thanks are needed, sir. "

" She will be revenged. "

Relys glanced across the room. Her sword leaned against the wall, ready. " She will be well revenged. They will all be well revenged. "

" Indeed, " Hahle nodded. " The ships are all but ready—I could die tonight knowing that the invasion will proceed as planned. " After a moment's pause, he continued, but his voice had lost some of its heart. " The Gods cannot help but favor us, I think, for our actions are just. " He paused again. Hesitated. " I think. "

Relys set down her cup. " You think? "

" Aye, I... " Hahle dropped his eyes and spoke quickly, as though he were confessing a shameful act.

" That is why I asked you to have dinner with me, captain. I spoke with Cvinthil this afternoon about some concerns that I have had for some time. Lately they have been growing. "

" What concerns? "

" Helwych. "

The sorcerer had been mending slowly. Pale, scarred, he still had to lean on a stick when he walked or stood for any length of time; but though his advice to Cvinthil had been invaluable, Relys had never quite trusted him. Mernyl had been an odd man, too circuitous and too veiled for her taste, but he had been a good man nonetheless, and in the end had given his life for Gryylth and Corrin both. Helwych, even in health, was a feeble little thing, and he seemed to hide more smirks than smiles, more prejudice than power. He appeared to be always within earshot of anything that was said about him, and he constantly gave the impression of knowing more than he ought.

Hahle had leaned forward, waiting for her reaction. But she only shrugged. " I do not like him, either. "

" It is not that I do not like him, " Hahle insisted. " Though in truth I do not. You have a clear head, captain. You are rightfully outraged by Marrget's death, but you can think as a warrior, also. "

Relys laughed in spite of herself. " No talk here of women's gullible hearts? "

" Will you hear me out? "

" Tell me. Please. "

Hahle spoke softly. " Helwych's story about the conduct of the Vayllens is reasonable, considering all that has happened. Now, over the weeks, I have noticed small inconsistencies and contradictions in his tale— the matter of the missing days, for example—but they have all been explainable. More or less. But there is one that is not, and it gnaws at me. "

Relys waited.

" Helwych, " said Hahle, " told us that he killed the Vayllen fisher in order to steal his boat, and that the

crossing to Quay took three days. Now, I will not question the fact that the Vayllen was still in the boat when he docked, because I myself would have had a difficult time hoisting a body out of a boat were I wounded as badly as Helwych. Nor will I question his comment about the weather being bad: Helwych is no sailor, and cannot be expected to know bad weather from good. But the Vayllen. . . " He fell silent, musing, as though he wished to be sure of his words.

The serving girl appeared, refilled their cups, and departed, her steps silent, her hair long and dark, her eyes downcast.

Hahle still had not spoken. " Master? " said Relys.

" Aye. " Hahle straightened up, resolved. " I felt the body just after Helwych's boat beached. "

Relys's brow furrowed. " And? "

" It was warm. Quite warm. It takes at best a day and a half to cross the White Sea, and Helwych insisted that the voyage took twice that; but the man in the boat could not have been dead for above an hour. ''

Relys turned the fact over in her mind. " It does not make sense, " she said. " If Helwych killed the man to steal the boat, the corpse would have been cold. But the only other possibility is that the Vayllen fisher brought him to Quay willingly, and then was killed by Helwych when just offshore. "

Hahle was nodding. " Exactly. "

" What did the king say? "

Hahle shook his head. " He is angry at the Vayllens. When I spoke to him of this matter, he shouted at me and asked whether the loss of Bandon and Quay and the lives of my friends were not enough. In truth, I wonder at my own thoughts, but Helwych. . . " He shook his head. " It should make sense. But it does not. "

" What do you want to do? "

" I am not sure that there is anything we can do. I have only a suspicion that something is amiss. And the king will not hear it. ''

" Are we being betrayed, do you think? "

Hahle spread his hands. " Helwych's wounds are genuine enough. He nearly died of them. What but a monster would do such a thing to a lad? ''

" Does Helwych know of your suspicions? "

" I think not. Nor does anyone else. Cvinthil, you have noticed, is surrounded mostly by youngsters these days. And the veterans are all angry and spoiling for a fight. I have no one to talk to save you. "

Relys deliberated. " Without the will of the king, " she said slowly, " we can do nothing. But if Helwych has erred once—he might well err again. My lieutenant, Timbrin, knows how not to be seen. I will have her watch him closely and report any further anomalies. That, I am afraid, is all we can do for now. "

The night was very dark when they finished their talk, and as Relys prepared to depart, she noticed that Hahle took up a cloak and a stout stick as though to accompany her. " I have no need of an escort, though I thank you, " she said. But she recalled the three young men, and her mouth tightened.

Hahle donned the cloak and fastened the brooch at his throat. " Neither women nor warriors should travel alone through hostile territory, captain, " he said. Relys colored. " Nay, I have heard what the young men say. I do not trust them. "

He offered his arm, and, after hesitating, Relys took it, hovering somewhere between shame and gratitude.

Hahle strode gallantly, as though he found nothing unusual in accompanying a capable and attractive warrior. The guards at the town gate—novice and veteran alike—murmured greetings, but Relys felt their eyes on her as, with her hand on Hahle's arm, she took the road down the hill.

For a moment before he left her at the edge of the isolated cluster of huts belonging to the women of the wartroop, Hahle clasped her hands: the gesture of warriors, young and old, united by weapons and ex-

perience. Then he turned and set off into the darkness that would lead him home.

He had not quite vanished into the shadows when Relys called out: " Master. "

" Eh? "

" Warriors and women do not travel alone, you said. "

" Aye, " he replied slowly, and Relys could hear the smile in his voice. " But I am an old man now, the hounds have dried up for the time, and no one else wishes to bother one so harmless. " With a wave, he disappeared into the night.

Relys strained her eyes after him. " He is wise, " she murmured. " Marrget had a good teacher. "

But she had hardly turned for her door when the night was suddenly split by the deep-voiced howl of a hound. She saw a distant flash of glowing eyes and heard Hahle cry out, but she was already running to his aid.

* CHAPTER 4 *

Alouzon stared up at a lurid sky that seemed the color of blood. Out of the distance came sounds: roars, shrieks, a clattering as of iron locusts. Nearby, papery rustlings and the lap of thick, oily waves were interspersed with the inexplicable chirp of crickets. A siren arose and sent a lance of sound through her ears. She rolled over and saw the Specter moving like a pillar of night across the desert wastes of Broceliande, through the once fertile pastures of Vaylle, over the waters of the White Sea, into Gryylth. It stood over her, and it lifted a sword that was still dripping with the blood of innocents.

With a cry too faint to be a scream, Alouzon twitched her numb limbs into a semblance of action and grabbed for the Dragonsword. But her arms were too weak to lift the blade, and the Specter's weapon descended like a scythe and ripped through her belly. Her flesh parted to reveal the dripping form of a blind fetus that writhed out of a tangle of smoking viscera.

No ... «o...

Holding herself together with her bare hands as blood and bile oozed between her fingers, she staggered to her feet. " I know... I know what you are, " she gasped at the Specter. " And I'm gonna—"

Pain drove her to her knees, and when she lifted her head again, Solomon Braithwaite's corpse was staring

her in the face, its breath fetid with months of decay, its eyes glazed. " Going to what, girl? "

" I'm gonna. . . "

" Say it. Say it! "

The Grail. The Grail was the only way out. But where was it? Signs hung in the air about her— Westlake, Olympic—their letters traced as though in flame, but she could not comprehend them.

" I'm gonna do it... somehow... "

Specter, fetus, corpse: all were suddenly gone then, swept away by something that roared by and shattered the air with rock and roll. The sound was a fist that put Alouzon on the ground again, but her eyes were open now, and the delusions of her horror-filled dreams had scattered like shadows before a mercury-vapor light.

She stared at the sky, at the moving lights of a jetliner that crossed from north to south, at the faint stars. She understood.

She was in Los Angeles. And she was Alouzon.

Hahle survived the hound's attack, but only because Relys and the wartroop arrived within seconds. Several of the women were burned and bitten, but they drove the beast off with no serious casualties save for Hahle.

Now, badly wounded and unaware of himself or his surroundings, the councilman lay in bed, attended by the king's own physicians. Cvinthil ordered that preparations for the invasion be hastened, for, as Helwych had quickly pointed out, the attack of a hound after such a long hiatus indicated that Vaylle was growing stronger with each passing day. It might even be preparing an invasion of its own.

Relys admitted that Helwych's logic was good, but Hahle's words had taken root in her heart; and as May flowed towards June like a swift river, as the last of the men and supplies departed for Quay, as Cvinthil

himself, angry and eager for revenge, prepared to join his men, she found herself increasingly disquieted.

She had always thought of herself as a lieutenant, not as a commander, and she had been comfortable in the role of adding to, rather than formulating, plans and strategies. As a result, when confronted with the responsibilities of a captain, Relys had grown cautious; and now, with Hahle's words ringing in her mind's ear, a vague reluctance had enveloped her.

Cvinthil and the last of the troops would soon be leaving. Four new, untried wartroops would remain behind, along with their young commanders. Helwych—too weak as a sorcerer to fight, too feeble of body to travel—would also stay, acting as councilor to Seena, who would reign in Cvinthil's place.

Relys did not like it. The king could decree equality, but experience was another matter. Seena, though queen, was a properly socialized woman of Gryylth, and she could easily become overwhelmed by the running of a country. She would then turn to Helwych, and the sorcerer would eventually command the queen.

. No, Relys did not like it at all. Nor did she like the single course of action that was left open to her, for on the surface it smacked of cowardice, and in its depths it reeked of a danger that she had not yet learned to confront. Nonetheless, a few days before Cvinthil planned to depart, she stood with Timbrin before the king and queen and asked that she be allowed to remain in Gryylth. Timbrin made the same request.

Cvinthil was surprised. " You two have never been laggards in war, Relys. "

She stood tall. " Nor are we now, my king. It is not out of fear that we ask this. Consider: all the experienced men of Gryylth are crossing the White Sea. There is always a chance that Vaylle might attack Gryylth while its defenders are absent. "

" But Helwych said... " Cvinthil looked to the sorcerer. Helwych was slumped and crumpled into a chair, the scars still plain on his face. Timbrin had

been spying on him for the last few weeks; but though she had nothing to report save that at night he locked himself in his house, Relys was becoming all the more certain that Helwych had plans for Gryylth, plans she could not prove, plans so subtle that she could not even make a formal accusation.

" May I ask, lord, what Helwych said? "

Helwych tottered to his feet. " I will answer myself. I believe that the Vayllens will eventually try to strike Gryylth again, but only after a delay of another several months. Our strength is to strike first. "

Timbrin spoke up. " Still, you cannot be sure. You are no warrior: you might have made a mistake, "

" By the Gods, woman! " exclaimed Helwych. " The hounds are only a foretaste of what might come. Look at what happened to Hahle! "

" We know well what happened to Hahle, " said Relys. " If you recall, we were there to defend him. We have not the faintest idea, though, where you were. "

Her slip of temper had exposed her suspicions. Helwych seemed to waver. He sat down, slumping back into a pile of flesh and rags.

Cvinthil was angry. " What would you have the lad do, captain? Pick up a sword? He is still weak from his wounds. "

" Aye, " said Relys. Cvinthil had, fortunately, misinterpreted her words, and she did not correct him. She tried to think of what Marrget would do. " I was hasty, lord, " she said. " I beg pardon. But as for my request: Timbrin and Helwych are perhaps both right. " She snorted inwardly at her subtle turning of the sorcerer's words. " Helwych could indeed have erred in his estimation of Vaylle's preparations, and the hounds are indeed returning. I am a captain and an advisor, and therefore my counsel is that there should be some warriors with experience left in Gryylth when you leave. "

Helwych was motionless. Cvinthil was still angry.

Seena finished nursing Vill and wrapped him in a fold of her cloak. " Husband, " she said softly.

Cvinthil swallowed his temper and turned to her. " Wife? "

Seena spoke hesitantly. " I think Gryylth would benefit from the presence of Relys and Timbrin. I would. . . " She dropped her eyes.