The main room of the Sun was half full. James and Thorvald shared a table and a pitcher, thought about dinner while they waited for their companion to come in from the stable. Near the fire a family—elderly man, wife leaning on a staff, grown daughter, all wrapped in cloaks against the evening chill. A few more guests were scattered about the room. The door opened. A broad-shouldered man came in, three more behind him, all wearing swords. He threw back his hood, revealing dark hair, a gray streak running through it.
James spoke.
"Here's an unexpected friend."
He stood up, waved.
Mord saw him, turned, said something to one of the men behind him. With the other two he walked across the room, looked carefully at James, sat down.
"It appears Your Majesty has escaped your enemies."
"Enemies? I have been with friends."
"Harald and the Order accept the new Lady Commander?"
"The Lady Leonora commands the Order. The cause being ended, so is the quarrel."
"Before Your Majesty makes such decisions, it were well to take counsel with your advisors."
"The decisions are taken. One concerns you. You heard of Estmark's words at Council."
"If there are bandits in Estmark, they are not ours."
"I have seen villages with new walls."
"Rumors of trouble, fears of war."
"Charred timbers, the bodies of bandits wearing my badge. It will stop. The company of messengers is dissolved. We will find you other duties."
"Rather we will find you better counsel. Your Majesty believes his enemies against his friends."
Mord looked about the hall, hesitated a moment, spoke to Thorvald.
"We will take charge of his Majesty. Say nothing to anyone."
He rose to his feet. The King remained seated.
"Tell my cousin that I am well, at peace, and will return in my own time. What messengers you have, release. They have no longer leave to bear Our badge."
"Your Majesty goes now and with me."
"I will not."
"Whether you will or not."
Mord put one hand on his sword, looked about the hall. The men with him stepped forward. Thorvald stood up, reached for his dagger. From a bench by the wall a man took two steps forward, caught him about the waist, wrestled him down. The King spoke.
"It seems I do have enemies."
"And I friends; most in this room are mine. Your Majesty comes now with me, and quietly."
"Silence I can deny you. Traitors! Loyal men to their king!" He stood, backed, reaching for his dagger.
The sword came out, swung. One of the three by the fire stepped forward, a chair lifted in her hands. It caught the blow, twisted. Mord stepped back, staring at a broken blade.
The two others were on their feet, cloaks sliding off to reveal armor. Mord shouted, pointed. Two of the men on the benches were up, swords and daggers coming out. The gray-haired man batted a sword aside with his left arm, struck with the mace in his right. The Lady's staff licked out, back; a Wolf clutched at his stomach, blood running between his fingers.
Mord shouted, "Nae Halla. Kal."
Short bows, gray robes of the western plains, they poured through the door, took up positions left and right. The surviving Wolves stepped back, out of reach of Leonora's spear. Harald took one step back, right side to the fireplace, left arm with its archer's shield in front of him. Caralla froze, chair still raised between Mord and his king. Mord spoke:
"Last is best. Lay down your weapons."
The King looked around the room, spoke.
"I am James of Kaerlia and your king. Are you all traitors?"
Mord laughed. "Their king is some filthy savage out on the plains. But they are as fond of gold as we are. There is much to be said for servants with their own tongue."
James spoke again. "I will come with you; let the rest go."
"All come with me. Or die."
Harald's voice was calm. "Last is best."
Mord saw where he was looking, turned. The men standing either side the door had their bows half drawn, arrows pointed at him.
Harald spoke again:
"Raven clan rode south into ambush. The men who met you in the meadow were mine."
Mord hesitated, leaped for the King. Caralla brought her chair down across his wrist; the dagger clattered to the floor. Bowstrings sung.
The remaining Wolves, more prudent than their commander, let weapons fall; two of them released Thorvald. Harald's men bound them. Harald sat down at the largest table, motioned James and Thorvald to join him. Leonora carefully wiped the blade of her spear on a dead Wolf's tunic, leaned it against the fireplace, went into the kitchen. Voices. She returned with a pitcher of beer in one hand, a loaf of bread in the other. The stew, when it arrived, had a distinctly scorched taste. They ate it anyway.
The next morning at breakfast, Harald asked James his plans.
"To the castle, quietly. If I recognize any more old friends I will pass them by. From there, reassure the lords, dissolve the messengers, seek to discover which of my people have been taking the Emperor's gold."
"The first evening I spent in your hall, Mord was sitting beside Andrew. It was Andrew who told you that Leonora was dead."
The King looked up, startled.
"My mother's sister's son—as near an older brother as I had, after Robert died. And for years before that Robert was always up north with Father. While I live, Andrew is my right hand. If I die, my uncle's boy inherits and Andrew goes back to being one more southern lord—with better birth than land. He has no reason to seek my life, much to guard it."
An hour later James and his two companions were on the road. A little past noon, nearing the turn to the long valley with Eston and the castle at its head, they heard hoofbeats, reined to one side. It was a single rider, cloaked and hooded. Passing, sunlight struck a glint of fire under the hood. The King shouted, "Anne."
The horse came to a sliding stop, wheeled. She threw back her hood.
"James. Gods be thanked. You're going the wrong direction."
"What do you mean?"
"Treason. I passed a pack of Wolves not a mile south. Your enemies, by now mounted and moving. North or into the woods."
"Can we get past and safe to the castle?"
"The least safe place in your kingdom; I'll tell you the whole tale when there is time. We must ride."
Thorvald spoke. "Your Majesty, I hear horses. Take the lady's counsel now, discuss it later."
The group turned. Around the far bend, horses. Anne pulled her hood back up too late; the lead rider shouted, spurred to a gallop.
"Look to the lady, Majesty." Thorvald charged their pursuers, sword out, his brother beside him. The King hesitated a moment; Anne did not. He followed her.
Five miles north, the fresher horses were gaining. A long open stretch, the lead Wolves in sight, Anne and James almost abreast. A shout from the woods ahead.
"Right, for your lives."
Anne wheeled her horse, James followed. They crashed into the edge of the forest, through brush; the horses slowed. He looked back. A horse running free, a cluster of Wolves around a body, some off their horses with bows out.
"This way. On foot."
They followed, leading their horses up and over a series of low ridges, coming to a stop at last at the edge of a clearing where two horses were tethered to a tree. Their guide, when she stood still long enough for a clear look, was younger than Anne. Mail over golden brown tunic, bow. Order. They stood a moment, catching their breath, uncertain.
A voice behind them. "What have we?"
Startled, James turned. Wider, plainer of face, similarly garbed and armed.
"We should go first. I'm Elaina ni Leonor; my sister Kara ni Lain."
"The lady's name is Anne, mine James. You are sister to Caralla ni Leonor?"
"We have the same mother. Do you know Cara?"
"She saved my life not long ago; it seems to be a family habit."
"Kara spotted the Wolves this morning. They were coming this way, so we got ready for them. We don't like Wolves."
"All things considered, I cannot blame you. We are your debtors. Might you by chance increase the debt by directing me to where Harald Haraldsson and the Lady Commander are encamped?"
Anne spoke, surprise in her voice: "You are at peace with Harald?"
"With Harald and with the Lady Commander. In their debt. You were right; I was wrong."
She spoke gravely. "Then if your question has not changed, my answer has."
It was some time before they again noticed the two Ladies.
By Kara's advice they avoided the road; the woods were safer if slower. Before nightfall they made camp east and north of the inn. The two Ladies helped their guests construct a shelter, floor it with pine boughs, then vanished into the woods. James was the first to speak.
"You said you had a tale."
"Did you ever tell Andrew why we quarreled?"
"No."
"He took your room in the castle, left me in mine. I think he hoped . . . He didn't know about the sliding panel. I listened."
"And?"
"Heard him instruct Mord to have his Wolves find you, kill you, blame Harald. Heard him hint to two provincial lords that William was too young to rule, that if they supported him instead they would not lose by it. Heard him instruct his people to have certain of the garrison imprisoned. He has brought in men loyal to him. There are mercenaries in the castle I have not seen before. Some will not speak in any language I know. I think Westkin. And there is more."
"Enough and too much. What else?"
"The Emperor's man in Eston paid a long visit. Too fast for me to follow, but I think they have an understanding."
"That first lunch. Harald was right."
"Usually, I think. What did he say?"
"That if I required wisdom, I hadn't far to look."
Kara, her head three feet from theirs, smiled. She came to her feet soundlessly, moved like a shadow through the woods to her hammock.
Three days later they reached Stephen's hill, Harald's force encamped below it. Elaina led them past the cats' encampment to where the Order's banner, green circle on gold, flew above lines of hammocks, cooking fires, tethered horses. Two women at a fire near the banner looked up, came to their feet. Elaina hesitated a moment, then slid off her horse, ran to her mother. Caralla walked over, nodded to the King, looked curiously at his companion. James was the first to speak.
"Anne, the Lady Caralla ni Leonor, Elaina's sister. Lady Caralla, Anne of Estfen, my betrothed."
Anne looked down, spoke: "I understand I have you to thank for my lord's life."
Caralla looked puzzled a moment, then her face cleared.
"I just followed orders. It was one of Father's set-piece battles—everything important settled five minutes before it starts."
This time it was Anne who looked blank. James explained.
"The Lady is daughter to Harald."
"Fortune indeed. Speaking of whom, it would be well to find him."
"Father's up hill with Stephen; we can take you."
She walked over to the other two, got their attention. Elaina remounted, Leonora and Caralla fetched their horses. Elaina rode by her mother; Caralla caught Kara's glance, fell back to join her. When they reached the gate it was open; Leonora led the party through it.
In Stephen's council chamber Harald looked up, saw Anne, smiled.
"All this way for stories? I'm flattered."
"It would be worth the ride, but I have one to tell first."
Leonora sent Elaina and Kara off, with instructions to stay out of trouble. The rest were silent as Anne repeated what she had seen and heard. When she was done, Harald spoke.
"The Westkin you saw. What were their tattoos?"
Anne thought a moment. "The one who seemed to be in charge of the others had a black bird on his forehead."
"Ravens. At least he has sense enough not to mix clans. Any idea how many?"
"They had half the west barracks."
"Fifty to a hundred. What else?"
"A company, thirty or forty, that seemed to be his people—accents from the hill country south of Estmont. Another company I think were mercenaries. The Wolves mostly lodged in Eston, but ten or twenty in the castle, maybe more."
James broke in. "What about my people?"
"He quarreled with the captain of your guard for losing you—and living. Sent them all off to Eston. Of the men you left behind, he sent some with messages. Two at least he locked up; I don't know if he gave any reason. Of the old garrison, maybe ten are left."
Leonora summed it up. "Fewer than two hundred, almost all loyal to Andrew." She looked at Harald; he nodded, spoke.
"Stephen, what can you raise fast?"
"Messengers out today? Two-fifty, maybe three hundred, five days from now. Five, six more days for the rest. We'd best assemble on my southern border, plains west of the road. Plenty of grass."
"What about Brand?"
"If he's home when the bird gets there, a hundred in five days—farther to come. Maybe more. Four hundred more in another week or so."
" 'Nora?"
"Three tataves in camp, one in the hills east. Do we pull in our scouts, Stephen's, from the border?"
"No. Four tataves, my people, Brand and Stephen's. Leave James's folk in Eston out—too hard to get word to them without its getting to other people. Bring them in after. Taking the castle gets the birds, might get Andrew, might not. He'll have more people south. Snake clan, maybe. Mercenaries from over the eastern passes. Useful stuff, gold. Need a royal banner."
Harald, Leonora, and Stephen spent the rest of the afternoon working out details with occasional help from Caralla; James and Anne sat, hands linked, listened, answered an occasional question. When they were done, servants brought dinner.
Eight days later Harald reached the fork in the road where he had separated from Hrolf a year before—left to Eston, right to the castle. A Lady, dressed as a traveler, mounted, was waiting. He gave her an enquiring look; she spoke quietly.
"Caralla's watching the gate, the rest are scattered between here and there. Nothing that looks like a messenger the past two days."
"Stay; we don't want word going out, either. Not till we send it."
She nodded, backed her horse into the woods to let the columns pass. They made camp in the twilight, set sentries on all three roads. Well before dawn the Order broke camp, moved off into the woods toward the castle.
The sentry above the gate heard hoofbeats, looked up. Out of the forest edge, a bowshot and more from the gate, a rider came galloping. More. Dark cloaks, a red splotch on the breast of one—Wolves. A lot of Wolves. Something behind them. He yelled to the captain of the gate, the guards below. As the gate swung ponderously open—the bridge was already down—the castle courtyard filled with yells, running feet. Men ran past him; he reached down for the bow and quiver at his feet, rose again. Something struck him a sudden blow on the chest. He looked down—an arrow.
Anne watched, hidden at the forest edge, out of bowshot from the walls. From the brush ahead arrows poured at the castle. She turned to Elaina.
"Some of them are going high."
"At the far rampart, shooting blind. Arrows from behind make men nervous."
The lead force in their borrowed plumage were through the gate. Behind them the pursuers, a double column of cats at a gallop. The gate stayed open; they went through. After them the main body, banners of North and River, between them the royal banner. By the time James reached the castle courtyard the fighting was over, the ramparts swept clean, the courtyard spotted with bodies, men laying down their weapons. Harald, in the middle of the courtyard with his cats spread out behind him, was arguing with one of the nomads. He turned to the King.
"Wants supplies over Northgate; Emperor might not be too happy with them any more. I said parties of ten, my messenger first. He thinks I'm being rude. Can I invite him and senior kin to stay a week as guests while junior kin head home? Wounded to stay till they can travel. Useful folk to know."
James nodded.