Ravenheart (49 page)

“What happened, sir?”

“Help me up.” Banny lifted the skinny schoolteacher to his feet. “Fetch the pony and trap. I need to see Gillam Pearce tonight.”

“Yes, sir.”

Twenty minutes later Alterith, still shaken from his beating, pounded on the door of Gillam Pearce’s house. His wife opened it. “I told you,” she said, “my husband …” Her voice trailed away as she saw the blood on Alterith’s cut and swollen face. “You are hurt,” she said lamely. Alterith looked
into her eyes. She was past middle age, her face lined and heavyset. But all traces of irritation had passed when she saw his wounds, and that showed Alterith that she had a kind heart.

“I was set upon, madam, by men who do not wish to see Maev Ring defended. I was told that if I came here, I would be killed.”

“Then you should understand why my husband cannot help you.”

“What I understand is that a great injustice is being perpetrated and a good woman—a woman like yourself—faces execution. I cannot let that pass. I will not be frightened into allowing such an evil.”

“Bring him in, Ilda,” came a voice from inside the house. “ ’Tis too cold to talk on the doorstep.”

Alterith stepped into the small living room. A fire was glowing in the hearth, and a small man was sitting before it. “Shall we compare wounds?” he asked, rising from his chair. Alterith saw that his left eye was black and swollen and there was a deep cut on the bridge of his nose.

“Bruises will heal,” said Alterith. “They want to kill Maev Ring.”

“I know, and that saddens me,” said Gillam Pearce. “She is a fine, shrewd businesswoman. But what can I do, Master Shaddler? Fifteen upstanding citizens claim she bewitched them. If I say they are all liars, I will be ruined. No one will buy from me. Worse, when she is found guilty, I will be accused of being her accomplice, and then I will face the rope or the burning. So what is it you will ask of me? To stand up before the church and tell them the truth, though it destroys me?”

“Yes,” said Alterith, “that is what I ask.”

“And what would the purpose be, pray? We will not save Maev Ring.”

“All trials are recorded, Master Pearce. Recorded for posterity, with the evidence sent on to the church authorities in Varingas. That is why the knights are so anxious that you do
not speak. Not because you will make a difference to the verdict, which has already been bought and paid for by Jorain Feld, but because their infamy will be seen in your testimony. This trial is a sham, a mockery of all we should believe in. Someone needs to say that on the record. If Maev Ring must go to her death over this, then she should know she had loyal friends, men of honor and courage, men unafraid to speak the truth and shame the vile.”

Gillam Pearce began to laugh.

“Have I said something to amuse you, sir?” Alterith asked stiffly.

“Of course you have, my friend. Look at us: a skinny schoolteacher and a small cobbler. What a terrifying army we make against the might of the church and the knights of the Sacrifice. We shall have them quaking in their boots.”

“Then you will speak for Maev?”

Gillam moved to a small desk by the far wall. From a drawer he took a sheaf of papers. “This is my affidavit, sworn out three days ago and witnessed. Take it and keep it safe. It will still be admissible in evidence even if they do carry out their threat to kill me.”

Alterith pushed the papers into the pocket of his coat. “I am in your debt, sir,” he said.

“Not at all, Master Shaddler. I thank you for reminding me what honor means. I shall—if the Source is willing—be at the Holy Court.”

17

K
AELIN
R
ING SAT
on the ground, waiting for a break in the clouds. The weather had not favored the 322 men, and the night was pitch dark, with storm clouds rolling across the sky.

Arik Ironlatch moved alongside him. “What is your plan?” he asked.

Kaelin could scarcely make out the man’s grizzled features. “We go down in squads of twenty,” said Kaelin. “The ledges will not accommodate more. That is, of course, if the clouds break and give us the moon.”

“They will or they won’t,” said Arik. “No point worrying about it.”

Kaelin did not reply. His stomach was tight with worry, and there was little he could do about it. When they had first reached the peaks, there had been a little light and Kaelin had walked to the lip and gazed down. The rock face he had climbed late the previous day seemed doubly daunting now, dark and sheer, the trees far below. His confidence, so high when he had spoken at the meeting, was draining away by the moment. The wind was gusting, and there was the smell of rain in the air.

Climbing was perilous in good conditions, but to attempt a night descent was fraught with problems. In climbing up a man could see the holds just above him, but descending meant feeling one’s way. The face was exposed. Billowing winds could dislodge a climber, or rain could make the holds slippery and treacherous.

Kaelin’s mouth was dry. He pictured the climb, breaking it down in his mind. The ropes would help. There were a number of trees near the lip, and the men could lower themselves to the first of the ledges. He tried to recall if there were jutting rocks that would support ropes farther down. Then he realized that Arik was speaking again.

“So, how is my farm prospering?” he asked.

“Your farm?”

“The farm I sold to Maev Ring.”

“It is making a good profit, sir,” answered Kaelin.

“We don’t ‘sir’ each other in the highlands,” Arik told him. Then he chuckled. “That farm made no money for me. I danced for joy when I tricked your aunt into buying it for half again what it was worth. Now it is valued at six times what she paid for it. A shrewd woman is Maev Ring.”

“Aye, she is.” Just talking about the mundane realities of life away from war and peril relaxed Kaelin. He felt the tension and the fear easing out of him.

Arik leaned in. “Now tell me again what we are to do when we reach the ground.”

“We wait for the dawn, and then you take a hundred men and charge the cannoneers. I will lead the rest against the main force,” Kaelin told him, surprised that his voice sounded calm and confident.

“Then Call brings his men out of the pass?”

“Let’s hope so,” said Kaelin.

The clouds parted. Kaelin glanced up. Moonlight shone down upon the peaks, but the clouds were still thick and the light would not last long. Pushing himself to his feet, Kaelin gathered a rope and walked to the edge of the cliff. Gazing down, he could see the first ledge some forty feet below. Moving back from the edge, he tied the rope to the trunk of an old tree. Tossing the coil out over the cliff, he watched it snake down. While the moon was still bright he hooked another rope over his shoulder and lowered himself to the ledge. It was around four feet deep and thirty feet long. Kaelin scanned the area, seeking a jutting rock to which he could
belay the second rope. There was nothing. The moon vanished again, and Kaelin sat down quietly in the darkness to wait.

His thoughts turned to Chara and her ordeal. He had not seen her since she had walked into the great house and, despite his memories of his conversation with the Wyrd, had no depth of understanding of her suffering. He hoped with all his heart that as the days passed, she would rediscover her joy of life. Then he recalled the words of Call Jace after he had spoken with her.

“I thank you, Kaelin, for bringing my daughter home. You are a good man and a brave one. I will always be in your debt. I also want you to know that I will understand if you withdraw your offer of marriage.”

Kaelin had sat silently, trying to make sense of the words. Call misunderstood his silence. “I am sure Chara will understand, too,” he said.

“I love her, Call. Nothing has changed for me. When she recovers, we will wed as we planned. If that is what she wants.”

Call Jace placed his hand on Kaelin’s shoulder. “Spoken like a Rigante. We will see.”

“I’d like to speak to her.”

“She doesn’t want to see anyone. Give her time, boy.”

The wind gusted again, shrieking across the rocks. The clouds broke, and within minutes the moon shone bright once more. Kaelin looked at the heavens. Stars were glinting, the sky beginning to clear.

The next ledge was sixty feet down and slightly to the right. Kaelin swung the second rope from his shoulder and tied it to the first with a reef knot. Dropping the coil, he watched it fall. It dangled some five feet to the left of the ledge below. Needing more ropes, he scaled the face, pulled himself back over the lip of the peak, and strode back to where Arik was sitting beside Rayster. It had surprised Kaelin that the tall clansman had joined them, for he had made it clear at the meeting that he had no wish to meet his doom on a
cliff face in the dark. “A man should always face his fears,” was all Rayster had said.

Kaelin dropped down alongside the men. “I’ll take another rope down. Watch for my signal and then let the men follow in groups of no more than twenty. The climb must be done as silently as possible. If we are discovered on the face, we’ll be wiped out.”

“We’re not noisy climbers,” said Arik. “We won’t be singing battle songs.”

“I know,” said Kaelin. “What I am trying to say is that any man who falls must not cry out.”

“They all know that, Kaelin,” Arik said softly.

“Let the first of your climbers bring down more ropes. We’ll need at least ten more.” Kaelin turned to run his eyes over the waiting warriors. “Some of them still have scabbards at the hip,” he said. “Get them all to loop them over their shoulders.”

“I’ll do that, General,” Arik said with a wink.

Kaelin relaxed and smiled. “I must be the youngest general in Rigante history,” he said.

“Bendegit Bran was about your age,” said Arik. “And Bane was only a little older when he became a gladiator. We Rigante grow fast to manhood.”

The sky was clear of clouds now, and Kaelin took a deep breath. “It is time,” he said. Taking another rope, he returned to the edge and swung himself over. Once on the ledge, he signaled for the first of the climbers to follow him.

Rayster came down, bringing another rope. He reached the ledge and looked over at the forest hundreds of feet below. “I do not like this at all,” he muttered.

“Warn the men that on the next drop they will need to swing across to the ledge. The rope is a little shy.”

“Oh, what a nice thought,” said Rayster.

Kaelin glanced up. “Best move aside,” he warned. The second of the climbers was on his way down.

Once the first twenty had safely reached them, Kaelin lowered himself until he was alongside the second ledge. Gently
swinging on the rope until he was above it, he dropped to the shelf of rock. Signaling Rayster and the others to wait, he examined the area. Here there was a chimneylike fissure, and within it a small column of stone some three feet high. Belaying another rope around it, he tied it securely and watched as the coil unraveled on its fall to the next shelf of rock. From here he could not see how far down the rope hung. It seemed, though, that it was shy of the ledge. Kaelin waved to catch Rayster’s attention and gestured him down.

The clansman came down smoothly, then swung on the rope as Kaelin had done. Only he did not let go as his feet swung over the ledge. Kaelin saw that he was very pale, his knuckles white as they gripped the rope. Panic was on him, and he could not let go. He swung back and forth over the dizzying drop.

“Rayster, listen to me. You will not fall. I will catch you. You hear me?”

“Damned hands won’t obey me,” said Rayster. He was sweating and staring down into the darkness.

“Look at me!” Rayster’s eyes met his. “Keep looking at me.” Kaelin held out his hand. “Now swing, and when I tell you, release the rope. I will catch you. Trust me, Rayster.”

“I’m not sure that I can do it.”

“I am sure,” Kaelin said softly. “You are a brave man, and you
are
facing your fears. Now we are going to climb down this cliff, and we are going to smite the enemy. We are going to fight for the Rigante and avenge Chara. So start to swing.”

Rayster pushed his feet against the rock face. The rope groaned as he swung back and forth.