The Guardian (42 page)

“Yes.” He nodded solemnly. “The first time is always the worst. After that …”

“It gets easier?”

He nodded again, and she said, “I don’t want it to get easier. I hope I never again need kill anyone, ever!”

“Then give up your claim.” He took the cloth from her hands and soaked it in fresh water, and wiped her face gently. “Leave Talan in Chorym. Let him have Chaldor, and live with the clans. Or go back to Shara’s broch.”

“I can’t,” she said. “That would be …”

“A betrayal?”

“Yes! Shall my parents have died for nothing? Shall the Vachyn make another puppet king?”

“Then you’ve no choice, save to do what you must.”

“But it’s hard,” she said. “I didn’t realize it should be so hard.”

“Clans and kingdoms are not won by soft people,” he said.

“My father was gentle.” She looked into his eyes, seeking confirmation.

“Andur was a fine man,” he said, “and a fine soldier. He was gentle when the circumstances allowed, but in battle …” He smiled fondly, memories in his eyes. “In battle he was the bravest I’ve seen. He knew when he must be strong.
The gods know, but had he not taken the rear guard, I’d be dead now.”

“He was a man,” she said.

“And you are a queen,” he answered. “Or shall be, have you the courage.”

“I’d thought …” she hesitated, frowning, gathering confused and tumultous thoughts. “I saw Rytha attack you and I thought it should be easy to kill her.”

“You had to,” he said. “And I could not. Had she lived, the Agador would not be with us. And are the Agador not with us, then perhaps the Quan and the Arran should not join us, and we would have no army to bring against Talan. You had no choice.”

“Shall we truly raise an army?” she asked.

“I think the Arran will accept you,” he said. “And then the Quan shall be faced with too great a force to dispute. Save …” He shrugged.

“Save what?”

“It might be necessary to fight again. But then …” He chuckled. “We shall see fighting enough in the days to come.”

“I’d see no more than we must,” she said. And was surprised by his approving laughter, the clutch of his hand on her shoulder.

“Spoken like your father!”

“He’d have said that?”

Gailard nodded. “Andur fought only when he must. Not to conquer, not to achieve ambition—not like Talan—but only when he had no other option. As you did, with Rytha.”

Ellyn sighed and lowered her head, leaning a moment against his chest. “I once thought you no more than a …” She broke off, her cheeks red.

“A common hire-sword?”

“Yes. But you’re more than that. You’re wise.”

He laughed loud. “I’m a soldier, no more than that. Now shall we go on?” He rose to his feet, standing tall above her, his eyes suddenly grim. “The Devyn shall bury
Eryk this night, and the Agador Rytha. And we must bring the Dur to them and bond them to us.”

Ellyn wet her face and rose. “And you shall be proclaimed clan chieftain of the Devyn.”

“I suppose so,” he said.

“But who shall command the Agador?”

“I don’t know.” He stooped, taking up a twig that he tossed into the stream, watching it float away. “No woman has ever claimed the chieftainship, but you slew Rytha, so …” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps they’ll acknowledge you. Or …” he began to chuckle. “Perhaps I’ll find myself lord of two clans. The gods move in mysterious ways, no? A common hire-sword commanding two clans?”

Ellyn hesitated a moment, then began to smile. “A most uncommon hire-sword,” she said, “who shall be commander of all Chaldor’s forces do we win.”

“In that case” Gailard returned her, “I suppose I shall have to learn manners.”

Ellyn began to laugh, and they went to join the others.

W
e gathered in the Devyn and the Agador after Eryk and Rytha were buried. Some families quit our cause, preferring to follow their own paths, and we let them go without hindrance.

Shara put it the neatest. “We face a war,” she said, “and we want only those firm to our purpose. Any who doubt our cause should go.”

“And not,” Ellyn added with an authority that belied her years, “come seeking our favors after we’ve won.”

I was by no means sure we could win, but we were committed now, and gathering an army of Highlanders that I believed
might
win—could we bring in the Arran and the Quan. We sat in Eryk’s broch, which I now supposed was mine. It was built up from what I recalled of my father’s—fresh walls and larger outbuildings, a floor added to the central tower. The gods knew but it took me by surprise when we came back to the joined camp and I heard myself hailed chieftain of the Devyn. And I could make little sense of the Agador’s allegiance, for I was not certain whether that was to me or to Ellyn, and I do not think the clan itself was sure.

Eryk and Rytha had broken all precedence with their bonding, and now I had slain Eryk, and Ellyn had slain Rytha, and none seemed sure whether I or she led the Agador.
Some assumed we were wed; others were swayed by Shara’s presence, for they had heard the stories of the sorceress who dwelled in the Styge, and her presence alone drew many to our support. Also, there were no few who had followed Eryk and his ambitious wife solely out of clan loyalty and welcomed their deaths. More resented Talan’s intrusion; others looked joyously toward an invasion of the Lowlands. I chose to ignore the doubts and the questions and accept the clan’s allegiance; I needed an army, was I to restore Ellyn to her rightful throne.

“What do you see?” I asked Clayre. “How shall we fare?”

Mattich’s wife shrugged and smiled warily. “I see battle,” she said. “I see the world changing, but I cannot tell you the outcome.”

“But you’ve the dreaming talent,” I said.

And she smiled again and answered me, “We dreamers see only little bits and pieces of the future, Gailard; not the whole of it. And there’s such a turning of the world involved here that my dreams are like storm-tossed clouds—changing all the while.”

I looked to Shara, who shrugged and said, “We’ve no choice but to go on, eh?”

Briefly, I wondered what use it was to have sorcerers and dreamers on your side if they could not offer better advice. I said, “On the morrow we send messengers to the Arran and the Quan.”

“The Arran will join us,” Mattich said. “But the Quan … ?”

I thought a moment. “Do they not join us …” I looked around the circle of faces seated at Eryk’s—now my—table. “We cannot afford to leave them behind us.”

“What do you say?” Ellyn asked.

“That we cannot leave enemies at our back,” I said bluntly. “We must take the clans down through the Geffyn Pass, and save Talan be a complete fool, he shall send his army there to halt us.”

“How he shall know we’re coming?” she wondered.

“He’s sent ambassadors to the Highlands,” I replied, wondering how she could fail to see the danger, “and doubtless he’s spies. So he’ll know something of what transpires here. I think he’ll at least suspect a clan invasion, and were I in his shoes, I’d look to block it at the Geffyn.”

“He could hold us there,” Mattich said. “And are the Quan hostile, and at our backs …”

“Does he send his Vachyn,” Clayre said, “he could defeat us there.”

“We’ve our own magicians,” I said, glancing at Shara and Ellyn.

Mattich said, “Even so. But the clans would sooner …” He shrugged an apology.

“I know,” I said, understanding, and giving my own apologetic smile to the two talented women. “And I’d sooner fight honestly. But does Talan employ sorcery, what are we to do? Concede him the victory? I think we must fight fire with fire.”

Shara said, “We’ll use no magicks save you ask us.”

“Or we deem it necessary,” Ellyn said.

I stared at her and said, “By your promise, eh? Only by Sham’s permission. Remember the last time …”

“Yes!” Her pretty face creased into a scowl I remembered. “As you will. But if I see …”

“Only by Shara’s permission!”

She agreed, albeit reluctantly.

“You’ll need all your strength when we face Chorym’s walls,” Shara said, “for I think we’ll find Nestor there, and he shall be a hard foe. Hold yourself for him, and leave the rest to your guardian.”

Ellyn nodded.

W
e met Jaime, who led the Arran, the next day. He was a small man, thin and wiry, with hair grey as Mattich’s, and deep scars across his face. He would have been ugly, save
for his smile, which split his face in two as we outlined our plan.

“The gods know,” he said, “but I sent those Danant ambassadors back to their master with their tails between their legs. Swear fealty to Talan?” He spat a mouthful of good brose over the grass in emphasis. “ I’d as soon swear fealty to the dark forces—which, by the way, I think Talan and his Vachyn represent. No, I’m with you. Save”—he looked to Ellyn—“you’ve similar plans.”

“I’d have you as my friend,” she said. “Not own you, but work with you.”

He looked to me. “And you, Gailard? Are you truly leader of the Devyn or her puppet?”

“I’m her guardian,” I said. “Andur and Ryadne set that geas on me.”

“You went away,” he said.

“I had no choice.” I shrugged. “I’d not wed Rytha.”

“A wise choice.” Jaime began to laugh. “Who’d wed that bitch?” Then his laughter faded and he turned wondering eyes on me. “But after we’ve driven Talan back to Danant, what then? Shall you be her guardian still, and she look to drive Chaldor’s domain into the Highlands?”

Ellyn said, “We can sign treaties.”

“I can’t write,” Jaime said.

I said, “Her word is good.”

“And yours.” He stared me in the eye. “Do you trust her?”

I ducked my head.

He looked to Mattich, who also nodded.

“Then that’s enough for me.” He spat on his palm and extended his hand toward Ellyn. “The Arran fight with you, Queen of Chaldor. Until your throne is reclaimed or you betray us.”

“I’ll not,” Ellyn said, and spat on her own palm and took his hand.

Four clans now! By all the gods, but it looked as if we
might succeed. Save at the back of my mind was the sure knowledge that as we negotiated and won our allies, Talan must be readying for war. I’d not delay, but strike fast—which meant bringing the Quan into our alliance.

“W
hat’s in it for me?” Hain demanded. “For my clan? Talan offers us trade, and his army to support us, do we side with him.”

“You’d be Danant’s puppet?” I asked. “You’d bow your knee to Danant and jump to Talan’s summons?”

Hain scowled. “ I’d be on the winning side.” he said. “Not join some futile war. Talan would leave us alone.”

I snorted laughter at his foolishness. I studied him and saw a lazy man, going to fat like Eryk. Not much older than I—surely grey in his hair, but few battle scars. He had oddly pale eyes that seemed not to fix for long on any of us, but shift and dart as if looking for advantages or weaknesses. I could not like him—but I needed him. Or his clan.

I was about to speak, but Shara overrode me. “Talan would not leave you alone,” she said, “for he’s in Nestor’s pocket, and do you bow to Talan’s will, then you climb into that Vachyn pouch.”

Hain sipped brose as he studied her. He seemed to me like a dog wondering which master to follow. “But you are Vachyn, no?” he said.

“I was born Vachyn,” she answered, “but I quit that clan when I knew what it would do.”

“Which is?” Hain asked.

“Rule all the world,” Shara replied. “Sit behind thrones and whisper, so that kings and queens, emperors and satraps hear only what the Vachyn say, until all is ruled by them.”

“And should that be so bad a thing?” Hain asked. “I might be a great chieftain. We all might be.”

Mattich spat his disgust. “Would you be free, like a true Highlander? Or would you bend to the Vachyn’s will?”

“You ask me to side with this would-be heir of Chaldor,” Hain returned. “Is that so different?”

“To the Vachyn and Talan, yes!” Mattich shouted. “And do you refuse to join us, what think you shall happen? By all the gods, man, we’ll fight you and destroy your clan. It’s as Gailard says—we cannot leave enemies at our rear.”

“So, that’s it, eh?” Hain turned his pale eyes on me. “I swear allegiance or I am destroyed. Is that a better choice than Talan offers me?”

“Your choice,” I said, hating him, “is between honor and its absence.”

“And do I refuse to join you?” he asked.

“We’ll slay you,” Mattich said.

I set a hand on his arm. “No, we’ll not destroy you.” I looked Hain straight in his pale eyes. “But we shall drive you away, for we cannot have friends of Talan at our back. And do we win, then the Quan shall be outlawed, and be no friends of Chaldor, or of any other clan.”

“You leave me scant choice,” Hain said sullenly.

“There’s another,” Mattich declared before anyone could speak. “Single combat.”

“No!” I gripped Mattich’s arm harder. “That would make for a blood feud, and we look to make a lasting peace.”

Hain glared at the Dur chieftain, a hand clasped ready on his belt knife. Mattich met his glower, one hand on his own knife. I feared all our alliance might fall down in feuding, and Talan send his forces to the Geffyn Pass without opposition. He would come through as the clans fought, and conquer us all in our disarray.

Then Shara spoke.

“I am not of the clans,” she said. “I am not a Highlander, and my only allegiance is to the defeat of the Vachyn. I’d see the clans joined to defeat Talan and the ambitions Nestor offers him, to which end I can see no recourse save we set Ellyn safe on Chaldor’s throne.”

“So?” Hain demanded.

“Fight me,” she said. “Do you defeat me, then you take your clan where you will, and none shall oppose you.”

Hain stared at her as if she were mad. “And do you win?” He chuckled, clearly doubting that outcome.

“Then you swear fealty to our purpose,” she answered.

“Save one of these shall forget that promise.” Hain stared around the circle of watching, startled faces. “And put a blade in me after I’ve slain you.”

“No.” Shara shook her head. “For these are honorable folk.”

“And you’re a Vachyn,” he said, “and can use magic.”