Authors: Kim Hunter
out of a dream. He turned to see her standing beneath an arch. She wore a hood which covered half her face, leaving the unblemished side to catch the light. Soldiers heart almost stopped in mid-beat, but he hid his feelings under a rigid mask. She had married him out of pity only and he did not want to betray his true emotions. Ive brought you a present, he told her. In this sack. It looks to be a very bloody gift. He nodded. The head of Vau, the Dog-warrior who took away your beauty. I killed him in single combat. Some said I was unnecessarily vicious, but considering his crime I thought my actions were just and called for. Do you wish to look on his face for the last time, before I burn him? Princess Layana shuddered and turned away. I have no wish to see him. I didnt ask you to avenge me. I have no interest in such matters. Soldier was disappointed. He tossed the head into the far corner of the courtyard. I had forgotten that day. You have reminded me. He said angrily, How could you forget? You surely look in the mirror occasionally. What I see in the mirror belongs to the present, not to the past. Clearly she was not grateful at all for his actions. He might just as well have let Vau live, for all she cared. Bitterness crept into his soul for a moment, but he managed to banish it firmly. This was not the place to show rancour. Here he was supposed to be master. Here he had to remain in control of his wild emotions. I have come to claim my rights, he said, as a husband. Her head came up then, her chin tilted, defiantly. Oh? You will have such rights as I choose to give you. I am your husband, he said, simply and without any heat in his voice. You are my wife. She was silent for a while, then she said. You want me? Ugly as I am? He sighed, revealing his yearning. I find you - irresistible. You are a warrior, returned from the wars. You have fought and killed. The lust is high in your blood. This is why soldiers rape the women of the enemy. You dont want me, you want any woman. Her chin was still tilted upwards, the light in her eyes strangely both defiant and vulnerable. I dont want any woman, he said, huskily, the words coming from deep within him, he knew not where. I want you. I have lain awake under the stars, dreaming of the first time we make love. There are images burned in my brain. Other women are nothing to me. Every picture of a woman in my brain melts into a likeness of you. You have filled my whole being with your spirit, now I want to complete it with your body. I love every part of you, mind, spirit and body, every single hair on your head, every fold, every rise of your form. Even now your fragrance drives my senses into battle with themselves. I want to breathe you, drink you, swallow you whole. She was trembling now, under the onslaught of his softly-spoken words. This is so? she whispered. You love me? You are my prayer for life itself. Without another word she walked towards a room off the courtyard. In this room there was a bed. It was not her bed, it was the sleeping place of a maid-servant. Soldier followed her in and closed the door. They both removed their garments without looking at one another. Both were shaking violently. When they turned towards one another again, they clasped each other . The sudden touch of body against body took the breath from them and they simply stood there, holding one another, staring into each others eyes. Soldier then lifted her up and placed her on the bed. She still wore her hood. He began, gently, to remove it. No, she whispered. Please? Yes, he said, firmly. When he had unwound the velvet cloth and removed the hood, revealing her hideous scars, he bent down and kissed that part of her face on which the skin was puckered and twisted. Every fold, every crease, every part of your body, he confirmed with in a murmur. They are all one to me, every pore more precious than myrrh, gold or frankincense. They made love and the tears flowed down her cheeks, wetting his face. She was wearing a particular kind of perfume which he finally decided was a combination of ambergris, san-dalwood and deer musk. It helped to drive his senses crazy. When they had finished their first gentle passion, followed by a more furious onslaught on each others bodies, she felt the open wounds and weals on his back. There was blood on her hands, on the sheets, on his tunic hanging over a chair. What has happened to you? she cried, sitting upright, feeling guilty for not noticing his hurt before now. Has the army punished you? Not the army, he said, wryly. Someone else. It happened in the street just a short while ago, not far from the palace gates. But dont worry, theyll pay. Are you hurting? Are you in pain? I shall send for Ofao and tell him to bring ointments and balms. Soldier sat up himself now. If you call that man I shall have to dress. I think he wants my body as much as I desire yours. She laughed at this: a laugh that contained no madness in its tone. It was a sound the palace had not heard in years. It echoed throughout the courtyards and Dnssila came running, bursting into the room. My lady, what is the matter? What is the matter? cried Layana, her eyes sparkling, Why, Im happy, thats what is the matter. Drissilas hand went to her mouth in horror as she noticed the naked man lying next to her mistress. Forgive me, said Soldier, gathering a sheet about his loins. I hadnt realised this was your room. Its not my room. Oh, what have you done to my mistress? Youre a sorcerer, thats what it is. Youve turned her into a simpering idiot. Youve youve stolen her mind. I can assure you, said Soldier, as Layana lay back, giggling into her pillow, that it was certainly not her mind I stole. Layana hit him with the pillow. Then she turned to Drissila. We must have feasting. We must have merriment in the palace. Open up the great hall. Light a fire in the hearth. Roast an ox, or at least a lamb. I want music. Send for the pipers and the flautists and other musicians. I want dancing. Yes, dancing in the palace hall. Everyone must dance, even you Drissila. Well find a man for you. And another for Ofao, in case he cant take his eyes off my husband! The maid-servant could see that Soldier had awakened the spirit of her mistress, that her lady was in love for the very first time. She turned to Soldier and said, You didnt need to go to war, you know. She would have accepted you as you were. Soldier raised his eyebrows at his beloved. Is this true? I dont know, but Drissila often knows me better than I know myself. Soldier shrugged. Later, while the feasting, music and dancing was going on, Drissila drew Soldier to one side. You must be careful, she said. My mistress . . . Drissila checked herself, wrung her hands in distress, and then continued with what she had been about to say, ... my lady is subject to changes of mood. She can she can be very violent, my lord. To his rather uncertain knowledge this was the first time Soldier had been called my lord by anyone and it did not seem to fit well on him. Im only a lieutenant, he told the maid-servant gently. You dont have to call me lord. As to your mistress, I am aware that she is ill. I know that she murdered her first two husbands. But then, I also know that she did not love them. You have seen her face, her demeanour, her eyes. She does love me and I thank the gods for it, because I fell in love with her the instant I first saw her. Its more in the nature of a family curse, than an illness. You know her sister, Queen Vanda, is also subject to bouts of madness. Their mother, the former queen, imprisoned a wizard and and a spell was put on the family for eternity. My lady is the sweetest-natured creature in all the world, except ... Except when she is not? he offered. All Im asking you to do is be very careful. I shall take the utmost care, Drissila, and I thank you for your concern, albeit misplaced. Afterwards, while the tumblers were leapfrogging and building pyramids, Layana came to his side again. What were you and my maid-servant hatching? she asked, laughingly. Its not my birthday for months yet. Soldier turned to his new bride and replied calmly, She said your family had been cursed and that you were subject to fits of violent madness. Layanas face clouded over. You tell me this in such a bald way? Were you not consigned to secrecy by Drissila? I will keep no secrets from you, my love. I have no identity, no past, no knowledge of my real self. For all we both know I could be a criminal of the worst kind. We are both sadly inadequate. We shall have to be honest with one another until the day comes when I know who I am and you are quite sane. For one moment he thought she was going to fly into a temper, but after a few seconds she smiled. How wise you are, my new husband. Listen, perhaps we should give you a name until you find your real self? No, Soldier feels right. Just plain Soldier will be fine. Now, would you like to dance? I didnt know I could dance, but my feet seem to be jigging around to that lively air the flutes are playing. Will you take my arm, my lovely wife? Gladly. She placed her hand in his and they went out amongst the dancers, who made space for the bride and her man.
Chapter Fourteen
Layana insisted, despite Soldiers protests, that they sleep in separate rooms. Its deep in the night that my madness comes upon me, she told him, weeping, and I dont wish to harm you. I think we love each other too much for that, he argued. But the whipping he had received from Kaff was beginning to tell on his strength. So far the heady excitement of the day had helped to bolster him, but now the violence visited on his body was overcoming that exhilaration. He needed rest, especially if he was to arise before dawn and be outside the city walls to meet Kaff in single combat. Even if Kaff did not turn up, Soldier wanted to be there, just in case. The worst thing in the world would be to be called a coward by Kaff. So he agreed to separate rooms. Ofao came and ministered to him, with more ointments and balms, and also gave Soldier a potion which he said would help him sleep. Soldier thanked the body-servant and fell instantly asleep on the soft bed. Ofao went out of the room, locked the door from the outside, and pushed the key under the space below the door. Both he and Drissila were of the same mind: Soldier had to be protected from his mad wife. The knight, Valechor, was in a misty woodland below an oak tree. He was in full body armour, a sword in one hand, a mace in the other. Around him were the shapes of lesser knights in dark armour. No faces were visible and the insignias on their shields and helmets were vague as shadows. They clustered round Valechor, their armour clanking, the leather straps creaking. There was the smell of urine and faeces in the air. He decided they had been in this woodland for some hours. Men had relieved themselves in their armour, it not being deemed safe to relax alertness. Only he alone had been permitted to rest. In fact he had not been asleep, but deep in the vigil that knighthood demanded before a battle. He had called upon the angels to cluster by his side in the coming fight. He had consigned his soul to his Lord. Sire, said a knight close by him, the Drummond clan are gathered in the glen beyond the brook. Its close to dawn. If were to be successful in our attack, we must gather on the kneb before the day breaks. You are right, Valechor said. Let us move to the kneb. He stood up and strode out onto the spongy meadow, stepping over a beck which trickled down to a rockhang on the moor below, making deep dents in the mossy ground in his heavy armour. There the chargers were corralled with their handlers, protecting the horses against the chill winds which swept across the peat hags. The Drummonds had suffered a great beating the day before and now they were trapped against a steep escarpment which rose straight out of the peat and formed a barrier behind them. He and his knights had the enemy at their mercy. There was to be a massacre which would rid the world of Drummonds forever. Through the heather came a shadowy figure, cloaked against the cold, hooded against the early morning fog. This figure carried a crooked staff flying a ragged cow-hide pennon. Burned into the hair of the hide was the crest of the Drummond clan. Here was a messenger. The man in the thick woollen cloak stopped on the dew-soaked ground just twenty yards from the knights. I come as an envoy, said the man, from a defeated people. Let us hear the words, he said. The man hesitated to reply for a moment, but finally he spoke in a cracked voice. I am empowered to offer you our unconditional surrender, said the envoy, clearly racked with emotion. If you will spare us and our families, we will submit to your commands. Valechor stood there, angered by this capitulation. What, was he to be denied final blood? Was his slaughtered bride worth only a few of the hated weasels who had killed her? He wanted every Drummond life to be draining onto the moor by the time the sun warmed the lavender flowers into opening their petals. I cannot hear you, Valechor cried. The wind howls into my ears and makes me deaf. What is it you want? A battle to the last man standing? The envoy staggered backwards several paces onto a turf-covered knoll. From the top of the knoll a hare broke from its form and curved out across the heather. This creature in turn disturbed two grouse, which rattled up into the misty regions above the heads of envoy and knights. There was the clink of spurs on stone, as one of his own knights stepped forward onto the stepping stones over the beck. He made a motion with the back of his hand for that knight to remain where he was and not to interfere in the negotiations. You do not understand, said the envoy, you have won. There is no need for any more killing. No, Valechor shouted, I still cannot hear you. The wind is too loud. Come back at noon, when the moor is calmer. The envoy stared at him, knowing that all was lost. You bloodthirsty bastard, the envoy said, before turning to walk back into the mists. No more bloodthirsty than a Drummond. The envoy stopped and called over his shoulder, You heard that all right! Some short while later the knights charged down on horseback and the slaughter began. No Drummond escaped the field that day. Their bodies lay draped over tuft and root, the precious Drummond blood sucked away by a thirsty moor. Their wives and sweethearts were raped to ensure that the next generation would only ever be half-Drummond and would be bastards to boot. The children were gathered in and would know their parents no more. They would be adopted by families on border farms, who would work them on the land. It was a massacre which would have sickened the heart of the most bloody of tyrants. He sat on his horse and watched it happen, never once curbing the excesses of his battle-maddened knights. One old woman, a ragged witch, rushed up to his mount and screamed up at him. Curse ye, Valechor! Curse yer kith and kin and their progeny! May yer soul reek in hell, ye murtherin swine. Curse yer dead bride, may she ... He chopped her down with his mace before she could utter the final words which would make her hex complete. Finally, when it was all over, the knights rode away, leaving the dead in a great pile beneath some standing stones. The Drummonds had been slaughtered. Wolves came in to gnaw the flesh from the bones, corbies came in to pick the eyes. But before noon these scavengers scattered in all directions as the bodies moved, pushed from beneath. Not all the Drummonds were dead. There was one survivor, one man who had been struck on the head by a club and who had now regained consciousness. From beneath the heap of dead Drummonds crawled this soul, bloodied, filthy with gore, sickened to his heart. He screamed for vengeance into the wind on the moor. He promised the gods of earth, sea and sky that the foe would rue this day. Then he began walking, deep into the heart of the moor, his expression rapt, his soul heavy as lead inside him. But the fire within him would not now be quenched until his sword had tasted the blood of that one hated leader of the enemy knights. The killer of his clan would pay, and this Drummond was the man to make him pay, for he was, above all, a professional soldier. Soldier woke with his magic scabbard singing a warning in his ears. A shadowy shape flew as light as a bat from the windowsill to his bed, a dagger in its hand. Soldier grasped the wrist of the assassin, wrenching it sideways. There was a scream but his attacker had the strength to hold on to the knife. Soldier struck out with his fist, knocking his assailant against the padded walls. The attackers head struck the padding hard and the figure fell to the floor and lay still. With trembling hands Soldier found a tinder box and lit a taper, transferring the flame to a candle. With the tallow in hand he examined the body on the floor. He recognised her instantly, and cried out. It was Layana, her face not only disfigured with her old scars but now bearing an ugly bruise where he had struck her. Full of remorse Soldier bent down and lifted her up. She woke as he was carrying her to the bed and her features twisted into a horrible image of hate and fury. She tried to rake his face with her nails, but he managed to throw her onto the bed. While she was scrambling around, trying to find the dagger, he sought the key for the door. It was not in the lock. Then he saw it on the floor, picked it up and undid the lock. Help here! he cried down the passageway. Servants came running from their rooms, pulling on their clothes. Guards ascended the staircase. Soldier went back into the room. When he had disarmed Layana he had heard the knife go skidding under a wardrobe. She was still frantically trying to find it amongst the bedclothes. He took her by her wrists again and she kicked out at him viciously, trying to break his nose and smash his lips against his teeth. He held her firmly until the servants had her, screaming her wrath at all and sundry, and dragged her from the room. How did she get in here? asked Drissila. We left her safe in her room. We always lock her door. Soldier said, She must have climbed up the chimney and across the roof, to enter this room by my window. Soldier had believed that his love for Layana - and indeed her love for him was having a curative effect. Clearly he had been deluding himself If it had not been for his scabbard he would be dead by her hand. He conveyed all this to Drissila, who shook her head. My mistress is cursed, my lord. Were it but an illness we would all be striving for a cure, but unfortunately it is witchcraft. Then we must find some way of fighting this evil spell with the magic that was responsible for it in the first place. The dawn rays were striking the windows. Soldier said he had to go. There was someone to meet. He dressed, strapped on his new sword, and set off. He went through the empty streets, crossing the city. When he approached the exit gates the sleepy guards on the graveyard watch looked at him suspiciously, but on seeing his lieutenants insignia they came reluctantly to attention and let him pass without a word. Outside the walls there were more guards, this time posted around the red pavilions. Soldier went to the Eagle Pavilion. There he found the bedspace of Velion and woke his female friend. I need you, he whispered. What, now! she murmured, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. We could have slept together while we were on campaign. That would have been much more exciting. No no, not that. Im a married man. Ive slept with lots of married men. Look, I need you as a second in a duel. I need you to watch my back. Im to fight the Captain of the Imperial Guard at dawn. Velion looked towards the tent flap. Its dawn now. Thats why we have to hurry. All right. She whipped off her shift. Naked, she went to a bowl of water and splashed it in her face. Soldier noticed how tall and stately she was, but also how slow. He hopped from one foot to the other in agitation. Cant you hurry, he whispered. She looked at him indignantly. Im not going to a duel looking as if Im out of the rag-bag. Finally Vehon was dressed and ready to go. They slipped out under the flaps and she followed him towards the castle walls. Whats this all about? she asked. Theres a man who hates me. Captain Kaff. Hes in love with my wife. Yesterday I challenged him to a duel. Because hes in love with your wife? No, because he tied me to a wagon wheel and had me flogged in a public street. Velion nodded in approval. A much better reason for a duel. I would kill any man who tried that with me. A raven landed on Soldiers shoulder. Not you - not now, he said. I havent got time. The raven flew off, seemingly in a huff. Velion looked askance at Soldier but said nothing. Eventually the pair came to a place under the walls where some officers were standing, Soldier recognised the cavalry officer who had administered the lashes yesterday. He glared at him. Kaff was standing a little way off, stripped to the waist, swishing his sword through the air, testing its balance. His hair was tied back in a horses tail, presumably to keep it out of his eyes. Soldier noticed how muscular were his chest and arms - and how thin his calves and thighs. He had a powerful upper body which was not matched by the lower half of him. Kaff obviously worked with stone weights, but paid scant attention to his legs. We had jutht about given you up, said the cavalry officer. Are you alwayth tho tardy? Soldier replied, Youre lucky I came at all. From what I remember, Captain Kaff rejected my challenge. I seem to recall that he did not believe I was now an officer and a worthy opponent for the Captain of the Imperial Guard. Oh, said the cavalry officer, we had that checked out of courth. Thinth you have been promoted though only wiz-ardth know how or why then you are eligible to be thkew-ered. Afterwardth well thend your thkin to the Hannackth. Kaff came over to speak now. It was my belief that you were flat on your stomach and couldnt get up. Thats why youre late. Soldier raised his eyebrows. You mean that little whipping yesterday? Why, that was nothing. My wife soon soothed away any slight pain I might have felt from that minor drubbing. A thunderous look came to Kaffs eyes. Your wife? Yes. Princess Layana and I had a belated wedding celebration yesterday evening a matrimonial feast didnt you get an invitation? How remiss of us. I do apologise. The captain ground his teeth. I have just come from a warm nuptial bed, added Soldier, provocatively. I was, I must admit, tempted to remain, but my bride insisted that I go out and defend my honour against that how did she put it? that po-faced hog. Are you calling me a pig? Im merely repeating my wifes words. Kaff shook his head. She would never say that. I dont believe youve come from her bed. May those words turn to ashes in your mouth and choke you. She told me she never wanted to set eyes on you again. Her only reason for marrying you and saving you from death was pity. Compassion for a poor pathetic animal trapped by circumstances. You could just as well have been a sparrow caught in a blizzard, or a wild hare with a wire noose around its neck. She has a benevolent nature when it comes to wretched creatures. Men of my stamp do not. We would just as soon put such creatures out of their misery. Musk, sandalwood and ambergris, replied Soldier, infuriated by this mans arrogance. Im sure the mix of those three together remind you of someone dear to both of us. Absolute fury swept across Kaffs features. Im going to gut you like a fish, he hissed. Velion spoke at last. You will not, captain. You will observe the duelling code. Thats what Im here for. Kaff looked irritated. Who is this person? he demanded. My second, replied Soldier. Shes a warrior with the red pavilions. I can see that. Shes not an officer. Is that essential? Soldier asked. I think not. Come on, come on! cried the cavalry officer. Letth get to it. The thun is climbing the heaventh. Thow it ith, Velion agreed.