XIV: Fall 772
Somehow, in the summer of 772, Vivian and Angeline decided it was time for second children. They visited Miranda and took from her certain formulations of herbal powder and went off to find Willd and Weaver.
On the first of September, lying naked in Willd's arms as he softly snored, Vivian closed her eyes and groped her way into the world of dream. She was riding down a wooded path. It was no place that she had ever been, in fact no place in particular in the waking world, though the hills about were like those of the Countess's Domain. On her right rode Susan, in the form of the "New Woman", and presently Vivian noticed that there was also a rider on her left. She turned and could see, as through the haze of dream, a girl of perhaps fifteen, of the same height and build as Vivian, with watery blue eyes and hair even lighter than Susan's. This new New Woman had, like Susan, the feminine version of the Willd nose. They rode along talking of nothing memorable. Presently they came to a crossroads, and the summer sun shone down through the break in the trees. Waiting for them were more riders: there was Angeline, streaks of grey striping her long dark hair, wrinkles decorating the edges of her mouth and eyes. Beside her, Vivian saw a handsome young man with Weaver blond hair. On her other side was another handsome young man. Behind them were several more riders--my, my! At least one more young fellow, and one or two young ladies! Vivian smiled in her sleep.
Susan tugged on her sleeve. Vivian turned to look. The world was different there. She could see south across hills and mountains, past Mount Farag on the Amari frontier. Some way off over the foothills, she saw a gathering of people. Her dreaming eye closed in on them. It was a military camp. Knights and spear-men and militia and camp-followers went hither and thither under the blue horse pennants of Farlain. Then like the arising of thousands of water birds from a lake, the camp turned into an army on the march. They came up the paths into the mountains, past the pier of rock whence Vivian's riders had rescued Frenerac. Rank upon rank, they marched and rode on into Clane.
Vivian found herself wide awake. For a long while she lay thinking and sweating, while Willd snored beside her.
"Four thousand," Willd said. "A bit less than half are cavalry." It was a week later. Rain slammed against the paving-stones of the court, poured from the drains under the walls and gushed into the gorge below. Around the dining table this dim afternoon sat the Countess, Willd, both Rain sisters, Sir Francis, Sir Rogier, his Lady Alice, Thane Horst, Lady Mirabel de Nikolad, the treasurer Maura d'Acali and the scribe Fergus Clark; Prince Frenerac, his bulging Duchess, Sir Tylon and Sir Sylvester of Amari took up the far end of the table.
"And where are they now?"
"This rain," said Willd, "is snow up in the mountains. They are bogged down in the long valley just this side of Mount Farag. It will be some days before they can move further."
"Maybe it'll keep raining till winter comes," said Vivian. "When is that up here, Lady Mirabel, the second week of September?"
"Not quite that soon," said Lady Mirabel.
"Well, how much of a threat is this? What's Duke Salvar up to?"
"I think he's trying to intimidate us," said Sir Rogier. "He can't take Nikolad with four thousand, any more than he could take Tarnhold with four thousand. This force is more likely to get bottled up than to do us any harm."
"But it could wreak havoc, couldn't it?"
"If they wanted to wreak havoc, it would have been easier to come over from Intror."
"I agree," said Thane Horst. "They don't have a chance. Granted, we can't do much to them, but they can't take Nikolad and they can't pass it by without exposing their supply lines."
"What if the Rukh give them aid?"
"Tarnhold stands in their way, my lady," said Weaver. "Torak has been maneuvering lately-- we believe he's moved his headquarters to Clatu, and a significant force has encamped south of Tarnhold. Lyroke is beset, but again, it's so well-fortified that he can't do much to it."
"Clatu," said Sir Rogier de Clatu. "Great. Torak is probably sleeping in my bed, in his boots I wouldn't doubt. Our marriage bed. I knew we should have brought it out with the movables, like Lady Alice said." His wife smiled and patted his hand.
"Haven't you learned yet?" Vivian chided. "The woman is always right. Let's see--hasn't Sperrin de Faal moved troops up to the other side of Tarnhold?"
"Yes," said Weaver, "but we still have the link to Lyroke, and we still have the Tarn Valley, and they can't make headway without a direct assault upon fortified positions. And they can't bypass us without exposing their flanks to the Cataphracts. Of course, Tarnhold may be cut off from Dubkarin for a while. I'll have to ride back soon, and you may not get reports from me for a few months."
"In that case," said Angeline, "I'm going with you."
"Good," said Vivian. "As usual, you're instructed to be extremely careful. But doesn't anyone think we should gather some more troops here, just in case?"
"If I may," Willd offered, "I would suggest caution, um, my lady. There may be more going on here than meets the eye."
"Well, that seems likely. By all means, let's exercise caution. And I think we should call on Thane Ellimer to send us some men. He's surely not threatened by Sigrith anymore."
"That seems prudent," said Sir Rogier.
"Good. Any other suggestions?"
"My lady," said Prince Frenerac, "I would like to remind you that my men, all thirty-five of them, stand at your service. I have polled them all, and none is reluctant to fight under your flag, even against the so-called Duke of Farlain. Of course, the Amarian knights are the least reluctant." The Duchess Zinyda reached out and clasped her husband's hand.
"All right. Order it thus. Fergus, please write to the Thane of Siret: remind him of his military obligations. I'll send Ellean and Martin with it, tomorrow morning. Rain or shine. Sir Francis, you'll return to Tarnhold tomorrow. You may take your wife and child with you, but don't take any chances. That goes double for when you get there: no heroic charges against the enemy, like your predecessor would have done."
"My lady, I honor Lord Margus's memory, but I, ah, lack his unalloyed valor."
"Sir Francis, it turns out that unalloyed valor is no virtue in circumstances like ours. I guess I haven't said this before, but I appreciate your steady hand as much as your courage and ability."
The old men exchanged looks. "Well," said Thane Horst, "you rate pretty high, Weaver."
"All right," said the Countess, "while I'm at it, I think every one of you is doing a good job. You, Thane Horst, have the misfortune to be Sir Everard's successor, and all I can tell you is you're about as good as he was."
"I take that as the highest compliment, my dear Countess."
"That's what it is. But enough of this good feeling. There are people out there who mean us ill, and we must prepare once again to outsmart them."
"With my brother in charge," said Prince Frenerac, "that shouldn't be hard."
"Unless he has a change of heart," said Vivian, "we shall see."
The next day the rain was gone and the skies were empty of clouds. Vivian rose early to see Sir Francis and Lady Angeline off, with their half dozen riders and their son. The boy, riding in his mother's lap, looked back waving at Vivian and Susan until the troop turned left at the main gate and passed out of sight.
Vivian and Willd walked back from the gate toward the keep hand in hand, and before they were back inside the walls, two more riders emerged from the stable, with a groom walking beside them. The riders were Ellean Rain and Martin of Auzel, and the groom was Wulf, one of those who had fled Vonnis in Vivian's company.
"Give my sincerest regards to Thane Ellimer," said Vivian.
"We'll try to be nice," said Ellean. "Goodbye, Countess! We'll be back in four days."
"Four days? Round trip? You mean each way, don't you?"
"She's a fast rider, my lady," said Martin. "My mare Vera'll have her work cut out keeping up with Ell's colt."
"I know she's fast," Vivian replied, "but that fast?"
Ellean just laughed and shook her auburn hair out in the sun, and then with a wave she was off, Martin and Vera giving chase as best they could. Vivian, Willd and Wulf watched the two riders depart. Then she turned back to the keep. "Wulf," said Vivian, "you should get Willd's horse ready too. He's got a ride today."
"I do? Where am I riding, my lady?"
"Can you go up the south trail and have a look at how the Farlainers are progressing? This spell of nice weather might be blessing them as well, whether or not they deserve it."
"I will do so, my lady, but it would be safer to have a companion."
"I'd love to, Willd, but I have the appeals today. How'd you like to go, Wulf?"
"My lady," Wulf protested mildly, "I have never scouted before."
"Willd here taught me. Can you ride fast?"
"I can, my lady," said Wulf, "if I may borrow Lord Sperrin for the ride. He's been spoiling for a race for months now."
"Sure! And if Willd gives you a good report, we might make you into a regular scout."
"It is an honor, my lady, just to clean the stables in your service."
"Oh, I can tell you've already learned something from Sir William here. Go pack what you need, and kiss your daughter and your pretty young wife goodbye--and tell her it's my fault you will not lie with her this night."
"Yes, my lady!" Wulf turned and ran back to the stable. Vivian and Willd turned to face each other.
"You know I don't send you into danger lightly," she said to him. "Take care, and take no chances. I love you." He started to say something--she felt the warm pressure of his emotions--but she reached up and pulled his head down to her for a long kiss. After a minute, they separated, then kissed again, and then went inside together to pack Willd's pack. "That was nice," she said.
"The kiss? My lady, we may be rusty at it by the time I return."
"Then let's practice a bit more." And thus the sun was high in the sky when Willd finally returned to the courtyard to find Wulf waiting patiently.
The fine weather continued for some time. The next day, keeping a promise, Vivian left "Aunt Miranda" holding Lady Sue, put on her hiking boots and took Jen up Mount Nikolad. It took two hours to reach the broken summit. Then they stood side by side on the boulder that constituted the very top.
"Oh, my lady," she said, and she said it over and over again. They pulled apples from their packs and ate them, and then Jen stood on the rock and turned the full circle. "Oh, my lady," she said yet again. High plains to the east, green mountains to the north, the great ranges to the west and south: their eyes could never hold it all. Jen kept on turning round and round, but Vivian's eyes returned to the south, to the godlike peaks of the Amari frontier.
"Well, Jen," she said at last, "we'd better be going, if we don't want to spend the night up here. Are you glad you came?"
"Oh, my lady," said Jen, still filling her eyes with the view.
That evening, Willd returned after dark and walked whistling into the Countess's room-- and turned immediately back out again, his face red. The Countess was luxuriating in her tub of warm water, and the maid luxuriated in her own tub by her mistress's side.
Vivian never believed that even her best messengers would make it to Hvanar and back in four days, and yet she found herself looking out the window as the evening of the fourth day came. By now, 4000 Farlainers had come down to the upper valley of the Little Glass, and this defilement of a place that seemed sacred to her was beginning to make her feel besieged. Yet she had five hundred men and women under arms in Nikolad, and Thane Ellimer would surely spare at least as many. The only concern she felt on that score was how quickly they would come.
Then in the twilight she saw Ellean and Martin return. They dismounted and led their horses into the stable. Vivian went down to the front hall and stood fidgeting. Presently the two came in, in animated discussion. They stopped in their tracks on seeing the Countess.
"My lady," said Martin. "No, you tell her."
"Vivian. Oh, heck. Didn't I give you this news once before?"
"What? What?"
"Well, Ellimer says he's still hard-pressed. We said Sigrith's not a problem. He said, how do I know that? She still threatens me. We said, the Countess and her are on great terms, and she's not interested in Hvanar. He said, how do I know that? Nothing we said mattered. So--"
"So Ellimer's not sending anything at all," said Vivian.
"Nope. He said he was really sorry."
"I'll make him really sorry. I'll make him really sorry. Ooh! No Thane would have told my father that. No other Thane's ever told me that. Oh, he'll be really, really sorry!" She looked from one to the other and back. "Did you tell him--?"
"All about the four thousand," said Martin.
"And they're right now camping on the Little Glass just a day's march from this spot. Did you tell him--?"
"You were ordering him? Oh, yes," said Ellean. "The written message said the same. It wasn't a request. But still."
Vivian stewed for a moment, smiling. She had the urge to lead her militia to scatter these pesky Farlainers right now--so she could turn to her next task, which was doing something to Ellimer. She sighed and let go of the fantasy: right now she was outnumbered eight to one.
"My lady," said Martin, "the Thane's men, they all wanted to send something, even if it wasn't much. But he forbade them. He's sure Sigrith's going to attack if he gives up a single man."
"Great. Great. Wonderful. Well, Martin, go find Sir Rogier. We need to have a little council meeting. And don't unpack. You're off to Dubkarin tomorrow to tell Thane Horst."
"He's gone back home?" said Ellean.
"Yes," said Vivian with a sigh. "Three days ago, it seemed like a good idea."
"My lady," said Thane Horst three days later, when he and his escort of two grandsons had evaded the patrols of the Farlain host and gotten inside Nikolad, "I have more bad news."
"What?"
"Torak has dispatched four thousand of his own south from Radun across country. They're a couple of days away at most."
"Great." She rubbed her eyes, then composed her face in a smile. "Thane Horst," she said, "have I told you recently how much I appreciate you?"
"More often than you know, my lady."
By the twenty-fourth of September, Vivian and Ellean and Willd and Sir Rogier and Thane Horst and Lady Mirabel and Prince Frenerac looked out upon two thousand Farlain infantry camped upon the highland south of the Glass River, two thousand knights with their banners and pavilions planted on lowlands north of the river and east of Nikolad, and scattered bands of Rugians along the slopes west and northwest of town. Mount Nikolad guarded the Clanish flank, but Torak clearly planned to put a camp on its summit as well.
Meanwhile, Lord Sperrin de Faal, who lead the Farlain force, caused a herald to be sent out onto the High Bridge to announce his demands. These were couched in the most pleasant terms, but amounted to the surrender of the castle and all those inside. Of course the Countess of Clane was never referred to: presumably she was included among the "lords and ladies rebellious whose abode has been made within this hold". Only one of these lords and ladies was named. "And the Grand Duke Salvar would ask that the Prince Frenerac, who has committed high treason against his kindred and his native land, be bound over for trial." Prince Frenerac laughed mirthlessly at that, but his reaction hardly stood out. There was a good deal of lack of mirth in Nikolad that day. There was also a considerable amount of refusal to believe what eyes saw before them. One thing that was notably lacking was any intention to surrender.
"We have good stores, my lady," said Lady Mirabel. "We can hold out all winter."
"That's more than they can say," said Vivian. "They'll certainly attack, at some point." She sighed. "If only Francis were here." She smiled at her worried council. "While I'm at it, if only Lord Smeagle would show up with that light cavalry he took into Bazir. Oh, well."
"Why ask for Francis?" said Sir Rogier. "He has perhaps a thousand. They have eight thousand here."
The number seemed to weigh like iron. "Eight thousand," Vivian repeated, hefting it. "Let's see, we beat three thousand at the Cleft, and three thousand at the Hog's Back, and maybe another three thousand in the woods near Acali. But eight thousand, all together? What have we, five hundred?"
"I make it six hundred," said Thane Horst. Willd leaned over and whispered in his ear. "Sorry, six hundred and fifty. I forgot about the girls of Nikolad."
"What worries me," Sir Rogier began, "is--oh, never mind, I'm sure you can think of enough things to worry about without my aid."
"Oh, go ahead, say it," said Vivian.
"If Torak gets men onto Mount Nikolad, the next step is to attack the walls. And with an advantage of--don't tell me, let's see, ten to one? Twelve to one?"
"Twelve to one is pretty close," said Vivian. "Actually it's a slight underestimate."
"Yes. Well, in the open, we think three to one means victory. With some walls, maybe five to one or six to one. But even with the walls of Nikolad and the gorge of the river, twelve to one ought to be plenty and to spare."
"Well, thanks for those words of encouragement."
"I warned you."
"You did. Thank you, Sir Rogier, really." She shook her head, sighed, then looked back at her minister of state. "Sir Rogier, have I ever told you how much I appreciate you?"
"There is no need, my lady. Nor is there any need to ask us if we are still willing to fight in your name. Do you notice, none of us has mentioned retreat?"
"That," said Vivian, "might be because there is none."
Still for a week they waited: and still Torak and Lord Sperrin debated their move. On the last day of September, a band of Rukh ascended to the peak above the town--but they found there hiding among the rocks two dozen archers, who saw them off in a hail of grey-feathered arrows. The Clanish defenders, having lost no dead and two to sprained ankles in the climb, returned to Nikolad under cover of night.
"Good work," said Vivian to their commander.
"It was nothing," Ellean replied.
"Not true," said the Countess, "but we won't try it again. They'll have the answer to that stratagem next time. We shall have to invent another one. All's well as long as we can string together stratagems all the way to the first heavy snow."
But the weather continued beautiful, and on the fifth of October a dozen Rukh made it to the top of Mount Nikolad, finding it unoccupied. They hurried down to inform their friends, and the next day several hundred climbed halfway up. Vivian watched them through her spy glass, and in her mind fired many arrows across the two miles of air that separated her from them.
That night she lay sleepless, on her back, with Willd curled up against her left side, and Suzy matching him in miniature on her right. She thought of Salvar, and wondered what moved behind that flat and unshifting face of his. She thought of her father, and wondered where exactly she had strayed to the point where it seemed as if the line of John Zimmish was about to come to an end. She knew that Clane would not be the first of the Imperial Sovereign States to disappear from the map: the County of Terandra had lain waste since the late seventh century, and scantily populated Liath had been overrun by another barbarian horde when she was ten years old. Now Allor was divided and fought-over, Shadewind was gone, more or less, and Amari was a sovereign duchy in name only. Next, Clane? In Vivian's mind, her father and grandfather and Countess Tereza and even Count John and Lady Penelope upbraided her for her carelessness. But what had she done wrong?
Perhaps she dozed off for a minute, but she began to think someone else was in the room. Did she hear breathing, not the slow soft gentle breaths of Willd and Suzy? Was there a darker shadow in the corner of her eye? She lay perfectly still--indeed, in her half-sleep her muscles were beyond her call. Then in a moment she saw him. He stood by her bed, as real as the beams of the ceiling above her, robed in black or brown or grey, hooded, only that hooked nose emerging from the darkness of his face. She thought eyes glittered somewhere within the shadow of the hood. She thought he laughed, just a broken hiss of a laugh, as he gloated over her.
Her lungs gathered breath. Her body was still there, doing its ordinary work, drawing air, pumping blood, checking status, digesting the night's meal. Somewhere at the back of her mind she saw or felt or heard the Lady of the Fountain: "This light will keep the shadows from you in the hour before dawn."
She gathered her strength and her courage and on a count of three managed to sit up. The apparition no longer appeared.
Susan shifted beside her, whimpered on the edge of sleep. "It's all right, darling," Vivian whispered to her child. "Never fear." She took the child up into her arms and rocked her, and Susan smiled in her sleep.
There was a knock at the door. Vivian stared. It came again, followed by Ellean's voice. "Countess," she called, "wake up, there's someone here."
Vivian thought about that for a few moments, but there was no fright in Ellean's voice. Vivian rose. Willd rolled onto his back, still asleep, and threw his arm across the empty place in bed. She carefully laid the child in the crook of his elbow, pulled her robe about her and went to the door. There was Ellean, along with another, a tall figure in the dark of the hall. But this figure was a woman, no older than Ellean, with blond hair braided behind her. "What is it?" Vivian mumbled.
"I am called Siglind," said the tall woman in accented English, "daughter of Sigrith."
"What?"
"I am come from my mother, to say, watch and be ready tomorrow. That is her message, Countess."
"Watch and be ready? For what?"
"I must return to her," was the reply.
"I'll tell you what you must," said Vivian, fully awake. "You must have a pint with me and tell me everything."
"But, Countess--!" Siglind protested.
"Don't 'But Countess' me, young lady," said Vivian. "Come." And so the three of them went down to the dining room, and Ellean drew three pints, and for a while Vivian spoke with the young woman of the Rukh. When she returned to bed, she fell quickly into a deep sleep--and as she dozed, her right hand lay upon her chest, as if touching a tiny clear gem that lay there.
The next morning, the sixth of October, was again clear and warm, though the good weather was cursed by the defenders of Nikolad. Most were morose, and none but Ellean understood at all why the Countess smiled and hummed and made jokes. After breakfast she called upon Thane Horst and Sir Rogier.
"Be ready for something today," said Vivian. "Something interesting."
"Intelligence of an attack, my lady?" asked the Thane.
"Um, sort of."
"My lady," said Sir Rogier, "can you be any less evasive, please?"
"Um, you haven't heard about my visitor during the night?" They had not. "Well," said Vivian, "old men shouldn't roll over and go back to sleep when they hear sounds outside."
Noon came and there was still no sign of interesting occurrences. They could see messengers going back and forth between the camp of the Farlain infantry and the headquarters, hidden back in the Upper Glass River glen, of the chieftain Torak. In the afternoon, the Rukh resumed their ascent of Mount Nikolad.
About the second hour of the afternoon, Vivian and Sir Rogier stood atop the gate turret on the near side of the High Bridge, from which they had a good view all around. Now all of a sudden they heard shrill war-cries from high up on the mountain. They trained their spy glasses thither, and for some time saw nothing but rocks. Then Vivian let out a cry, and soon both of their spy glasses were riveted on a spot on the mountainside.
First a few, and then dozens more, of Torak's men came around the side of the mountain at a run. They were not on the offensive. Some fell with spears in their backs; others tumbled to their deaths, too careless in their flight. Then another shrill cry rang out, and now they could see more warriors of the Rukh in pursuit. An internecine battle was occurring on the mountain, and Torak's men were not on the winning side. There indeed was young Siglind, a great sword rising and falling in her hand, and there near her was Sigrith herself, her red braid swinging as she slew. That five-foot-long broadsword rose and fell, and another bearded head bounced down the slope, and then another.
Torak must have heard and seen. A wiser commander might have left the mountain to Sigrith, who was still wildly outnumbered, if one counted up all the warriors in the area, but Torak's pride and wrath would not let him watch as his men lost the objective so nearly in their grasp. He sent more companies up the slope at his rival. By now, however, Sigrith held the high ground, and her warriors, women and men alike, mowed down their enemies as they came.
"Hey," cried Sir Rogier, "they're not all Rugians up there. Some of them are Clanish."
"Whaat?" But he was right. A third of Sigrith's force wore Clanish grey. They bore pikes and longbows, not the broadswords and battleaxes of the Rukh. Before the two watchers could spend much effort working out what it meant, there came to them sounds from the other side. They turned their glasses to the east, and there, down along the river lowlands, the Farlain knights were on the move. They were charging--but at what? Vivian gasped. "It's Francis," she said.
"What? He's here?" Sir Rogier exclaimed. "He's crazy. They have four times his number." They sought for a target and a focus in all the riverside woods. "No," he said, "it's the Farlainers who are crazy. They're charging into the river." Sure enough, there was Weaver amidst a force of his cataphracts. They had taken up a position along the south bank of the river, at a ford two miles east of town, and were blowing their trumpets in challenge at the Farlain knights. In predictable fashion, the knights came careening into the river to get at them. In predictable fashion, as their horses slowed down crossing the ford, their riders fell in rows to the arrows of the cataphracts. Finally the commander of the knights extricated his men from this folly, but not before a third of them had fallen.
More horns sounded near at hand. They looked to the south. It was not the infantry directly across the High Bridge: these had made no move to help their countrymen, as they very well could have, or to press the town. The horns sounded from the wall of Nikolad that faced the main camp of the Rukh, and turning that way Vivian could now see Torak's warriors pushing into the ravine, aiming to climb up west of the town.
"Stay here and keep an eye on things," she shouted to Sir Rogier. She ran down and started shouting orders to all and sundry. She laid eyes on Prince Frenerac, who had gathered a hundred riders or so in the courtyard. "Prince," she shouted, "get out there and help Weaver, he's on the east fields. Take the main gate and bear left. Ride through the graveyard on the slope. I'm sure Sir Everard won't mind."
"Yes, my Countess," he replied. "With me, knights of Clane, Farlain and Amari!"
"Hey, Sallier!" she shouted at the nearest officer. "Watch those infantry on the bridge!"
"Yes, my lady!"
She turned to her own task, and in ten minutes she had a hundred bows with her. There was no time for horses: the archers sprinted out through the postern in the western wall of the hold and soon came to the top of the switchback trail that came up out of the ravine from the wooden bridge far below. The Rukh, looking up, saw them and let out their sincerest war-howls. They seemed to be only an arm's reach below her, charging uphill as though it were downhill.
How much time passed as she stood at the ravine's brink, Vivian could not tell. It might have been five minutes, or it might have been a year, that she and her hastily-gathered company fired down upon the masses of barbarians that struggled up the switchback trail. Ever did Vivian's bow sing, as did those of Ellean on her left and Valerie de Nikolad on her right, and ever did the fire-haired axemen fall and tumble back into the ravine, and ever did more take their places. She could not even tell if she hit her marks: she had only time to fire at a target and then choose another. Boys and girls of town kept them supplied with arrows by the cartful. No Rugian came closer than the last switchback ten yards below.
The sun was going down. It was over. The Rugian tide fell back up the Glass River and melted into the mountains and the darkness. With a vigorous cry, Sigrith's mixed legion charged down off the mountain upon the last of the foemen and slaughtered without mercy. Across the valley, the Farlain infantry were packing up in a hurry: by full dark, they were far up the trail back to Amari. Vivian took a deep breath.
"My lady," said a voice behind her.
"Sir Francis, well-met! How went the fight?"
"I think we lost fifty men. I make their toll at a thousand, plus prisoners." He laughed out loud, a joyous laugh without a hint of bloodlust. Vivian laughed back, but hers was distinctly bloodthirsty. She walked back from the cliff and stood there smiling, surrounded by her company. Most of them were the teenage girls of Nikolad, and they were singing and laughing, until a chant broke out among them. It grew until all shouted it together: Vivi-an, Vivi-an, Vivi-an! Her heart was so light she felt herself rise from the ground--no, they were lifting her up and carrying her toward the hold.
They halted, as a bloodcurdling war-cry came from their left. Hundreds of Rukh came charging down off the mountain toward them: but these were throwing down their axes and swords as they came, and among them were many Clanishmen, pikemen and archers of Siret. Soon the two forces mingled into a happy mob. Vivian was carried on again, only to be set down before Sigrith herself.
"It is a great day, is it not, my Countess?" cried the red-haired warrior, seizing Vivian in a bear-hug.
Vivian, released, took several big breaths. "Let's go inside," she said at last. "I think I need to sit down. Um, you do sit down, don't you?"
Sigrith laughed very loud and slapped the Countess on the back. "Countess," she said, "even the warriors of the Rukh know what a chair is. And we know what beer is, and I have heard much praise of the beer of Nikolad."
While the feast was being prepared--with much banging and clanging from the kitchen, where the cooks sang as they sauteed--the Countess and her victorious captains shared their battle stories around the big table in the dining room.
"Whatever possessed you, Countess," said Sir Rogier, "to take that rabble of local teens and stand in the way of a Rugian horde?"
"It seemed there was no one else," said Vivian. "I sent Frenerac down to help Francis, and the rest of the garrison was needed on the walls. I'd like to know whatever possessed them to try an attack up a cliff?"
"I saw, my Countess," said Sigrith. "They did not think you would be there, and when they saw that band of girls and beardless boys standing in their way, they thought to sweep you from the hilltop. It was not the only folly Torak committed this day."
"I can think of at least three follies of our enemy," said Sir Rogier. "One, Torak tried to attack Sigrith on the mountain, when she had the high ground. Two, the attack on the cliff, which needed our Countess's valor and cleverness to foil. But they should know by now of her cleverness and valor. Three, the Farlain knights charged Francis when he held the other side of the stream."
"Yes," said Vivian, "Sir Everard's first law of battle."
"And they didn't communicate," said Thane Horst. "None of them cooperated. Sir Francis was lucky indeed: if two thousand Farlain spears had come down on him, he would have had to withdraw or die."
"I still don't know how Francis came to be there. Didn't we decide that you needed to defend Tarnhold?"
"My lady," said Weaver, "four days ago we perceived that Torak had removed most of his men from before Lyroke. I knew something was up, so I took half the cataphracts at Tarnhold and followed. We lost them in the rough country, but when we camped the north side of Mount Nikolad we met Sigrith's scouts. They told us exactly how many the enemy were and where. Then it was just a matter of waiting for the right time."
"It all seems like luck to me," said Vivian.
"Not necessarily, Countess," said Thane Horst. "It is my experience that when a force has an overwhelming numerical advantage, their attention to detail suffers. And when panic sets in, more is worse than less."
"Well, then, I suggest we always enter battles with fewer than our enemies."
"That seems to be our strategy," the Thane replied, "and has been at least back throughout your father's time, and will be for the foreseeable future."
"But why did the infantry never get involved?"
"I think I can answer that," said Sir Rogier. "As per your orders, I stayed on the turret and watched, so I may be the only person who saw the whole thing. And I fear I must point my finger at Captain Sallier. He left his post and made an attack without waiting for orders."
"Is this true, Captain Sallier?"
"It is, my lady," said Edwy Sallier, "but we had to keep them from moving. I only took a hundred from the walls. There was no one threatening, for you had blocked the Rugian advance, and the knights were far from Nikolad."
"That left how many on the walls?"
"Oh, three hundred maybe. But those spear-men had no interest in the fight. We engaged for a few minutes, and then we sort of shook hands and went our separate ways. We, ah, wished them a happy journey home."
"Captain Sallier, if they'd really wanted to take you out, they could have. Still, it may have saved the battle."
"I certainly thank you for it, Captain," said Weaver. "I also have to praise Prince Frenerac. When his little troop came charging down through the cemetery onto the flank of the knights, they threw down their lances and made off by the quickest route."
"Thank you, Sir Francis," said the Prince. "I did get the chance to settle a few scores from my school days in Calway. Sir Robbith, who beat me in the sword competition three years ago, for instance: lacking his right arm below the elbow will make it harder for him to cheat next time."
"I am glad to hear it," said Vivian. "The smiths of Nikolad will be busy forging medals this month. The sixth of October will long be remembered, and my thanks go to all of you here, and all who served with you. Especially let us thank Sigrith, for I think it was really her plan."
"I think so too," said Sir Francis. "Last night her third daughter showed up in our camp before midnight with a message that said, 'Come to Nikolad in the afternoon from the east, stay on the south side of the Glass and be ready for a day of slaughter.' I am glad I trusted her."
"Marshal," said Sigrith, "I am glad you did as well. I knew that Torak and I would have to settle our differences, but if you had not come from the other side, I think my warriors and I would only have achieved glorious death. Many of them did so as it was. My second daughter, Sigmar, fell fighting the champion of those on the mountain. I honored her body by shedding his blood upon it."
"We mourn your loss," said Vivian.
Sigrith gave back a proud smile. "Sigmar drinks tonight with the honored warriors. We revel in her glory. Besides," she smirked, "I have the hammers and the anvils to make more."
"Ah, well," said Vivian, "this brings us to the count of casualties. I fear we had fewer to lose than they. How many of yours fell?"
Sigrith smiled broadly. "We counted seventy of our fourteen hundred. Sir Toby de Hvanar was with us, and I believe only fifteen of his six hundred fell."
"Sir Toby?" asked Vivian.
"That would be me," said a lordly-looking man with prematurely white hair and a lovely beard. "The Lady Sigrith is right. Fifteen fell, although several dozen had serious wounds, and some may yet perish of those wounds."
"I take it from your presence that Thane Ellimer had second thoughts, and thank the blessings of the Sun he did. I take back everything bad I said about him."
"My lady, do not take anything back on my account. My lord ordered me to help him defend the walls of Hvanar. Luckily, on my way from gathering my company of men, I met the Lady Sigrith. We easily found six hundred patriots in Siret; in fact, we had to draw lots to make some of them stay there."
"You mean to say that the men of Siret had to fight under Sigrith's banner because the Thane declined to give aid to his Countess? I'll take more back than words. I tell you now, Council, that man is no longer my Thane. Do I have power to remove him?"
"Ah, no," said Sir Rogier. "The thanes, once in place, cannot be removed by mere decree of the Countess. If he does not remove himself, your only recourse is to try him and, I presume, have him executed."
"Oh, that's really too bad, but if that's the only way--"
"Countess," said Sir Rogier, "would really you charge the Thane of Siret with treason?"
"I gave him an order. He didn't just disobey it--he told his vassals to disobey it. Am I not justified in calling that treason?"
"I didn't say I disagreed."
"It's not without qualms," the Countess replied. "But that casualty will have to wait. How about you, Horse Marshal? How many did you lose?"
"Um, the exact count is forty-seven, and thirty-nine horses. We are fortunate it was not worse: Lord Rodrik of Radun was with us, the boy heir to Selac, against my will, but he would not stay behind in Tarnhold. Now he nurses a bruised knee and a bump on the head from a fall."
"Boys," said Vivian. "That bump will do him good. Prince, how did you fare?"
"My rabble," said Prince Frenerac, "had one dead and five wounded, though we lost four horses to broken legs among the tombs of Nikolad's great. I should say that your Willd rode with us, and although he did not draw sword, his bow sang quite as beautifully as any soprano or tenor I have heard in the concert halls of Calway."
"I'm hardly surprised," said Vivian, looking at Willd beside her. He grinned and shrugged, then readjusted the bandage on his head. "He always seems to get wounded, though."
"Fortunately, my lady," said Willd, "my head is hard."
"It certainly is," she said with a smile. "Um, Captain Sallier?"
"My rabble," said Captain Sallier, "lost eight. We had a sharp affray for a minute or two."
"Well," said the Countess, "my own rabble lost zero. We may have had a few sprained ankles, and I think Ellean scraped her knee."
"I did," put in Ellean. "It hurts incredibly."
"Their losses," said Sir Rogier, "must come to several thousand. We gained some captives as well, did we not? I saw some of the knights surrender."
"Ah," said Vivian, "the Neil fund grows again. Their ransoms will be rich indeed. Perhaps we should also ask for some wine. What do you think?"
"A capital idea," said Frenerac. He looked at Francis. "Shall we spring the surprise now?"
"Oh, no, what will this be?"
"Indeed," said the Prince. "Let the chief prisoner be brought in."
A soldier stepped out, and returned with two more. Between them, his hands and legs bound in heavy chains, his head bandaged, walked Lord Sperrin de Faal, who had been leading the knights. The guards threw him theatrically to the floor.
"Well, well," said Vivian. "I hardly dare wish for more. Boy, do I have some things to say to you. Lord Sperrin, do you recall the day that--?"
"I do, Countess," he said optimistically, rising to hands and knees.
"Don't interrupt me," she said, rising and going over to him. She savored the moment. "My good men, please lift him up. Ah, now we can see eye to eye. Now, let me think. You wanted me to wait upon your orders, I recall? You'd let me know when you wanted to see me. And I was so impolite as to shoot your two men and flee. Well, now you have me before you, can you remember what you wanted to say?"
"Um, I--"
"It wasn't so important, was it? Well, I have a few items. It's been such a long time, all those little cares of ours, the Avars, Duke Maladar. Whatever happened to Duke Maladar?"
"I, um--"
She froze his mouth open with a stare. "All so minor and unimportant. Hardly worth turning a Sovereign Lord out of her home, and burning the most beautiful city in the Empire."
"My lady," he managed to say, "it was a bad thing we did." A grim laugh circulated around the room: Sperrin hazarded a look around. "I'm really sorry," he added.
"You're sorry?"
"Really sorry," Sperrin repeated. "Really, really, really sorry."
Vivian raised her eyebrows. "Well," she said to the others. "I'm not sure I want to ransom him. It'd be nice to have a chat with him now and again."
Sigrith rose. "My lords and captains, heroes all, let us salute the Countess Vivian." And while Lord Sperrin de Faal was being dragged out, everyone else stood and drained their cups. Before she could think of a reply, vast trays of food began to appear, and soon the happy silence of the feast took hold.
The Farlain casualties were not terrible. Nearly three fourths of the army escaped to Amari, leaving behind a thousand dead as well as several hundred prisoners. The losses among Torak's Rukh were worse. Of four thousand and some present at the battle, more than two thousand lay dead at the end. Many of these were in the ravine below the position that Vivian herself had defended, and many more lay on the side of Mount Nikolad, and five hundred more fell in the retreat, for Sigrith's warriors pursued them remorselessly. There were no prisoners, though their were some turncoats. The total losses of the defenders of Nikolad, who had numbered around three thousand, including the cataphracts and Sigrith's mixed force, came to one hundred and eighty-three. These were cremated on the day after the battle, upon the slope of Mount Nikolad overlooking the hold, their names carved in the stone of the cliff.
On the ninth of October Vivian dreamt again of the blond young woman. She woke at the crack of dawn, moved the sleeping Susan, rolled over, pulled out the bedpan and threw up. When she was done, she sat up in bed. Willd opened his eyes. "Are you all right, my lady?"
"Yes!" she said. "Yes, oh yes!"
He sat up. "What? What is it?"
"Oh, you'll see."
"You're pregnant."
"Yes, you handsome fellow, and it's all your fault." She moved the dozing heiress again and threw herself upon Willd, covering him with kisses and only stopping to throw up again, this time all over both of them, the baby and the cat.
Vivian controlled her morning sickness with the aid of an herb of Miranda's, and that day and the next was loudly congratulated by each person she met. When Sir Francis Weaver gave his good wishes, she fixed him with a meaningful look.
"You'd better go back to Tarnhold soon," she said.
"Indeed, my Lady Angeline was not in favor of this expedition, though I think she will approve now that we know the outcome."
"This wasn't the only expedition you were involved in," said Vivian, "and I think Angeline may already know the outcome of the other one."
"My lady," he said, "I think I had better go back to Tarnhold."
The Cataphracts left Nikolad on the eleventh. On 14 October the Countess and Ellean joined Sigrith's mixed legion for the ride to Hvanar. They took four days traveling, the first three of which were glorious; the last day, the wind turned around to come from the north, and spits of snow blew about.
They stopped at the castle of Herynold for lunch, and Lady Helene was effusive in her congratulations. "I have sent ahead, my lady," she said, "that the Thane might expect your coming. I have not done ill, have I?"
"Hmm, well, I can't blame you for it, in any case."
"This wine," said Sigrith, holding a goblet in one hand and a leg of pheasant in the other, "is excellent. An excellent board you put out."
"Um, well, thank you," said Lady Helene demurely. "But, Countess, you've never been to Hvanar before, have you?"
"I've never even been more than a day's ride up the trail from Nikolad. The scenery is so beautiful I think I've been numb the last two days. How far is it to Hvanar from here?"
"A dozen miles perhaps. You should make it by dark, even on a day like this. Um, what does my lady intend?"
"Hm? How do you mean?"
"About the Thane."
"Oh. Oh." Vivian shifted her expression. "You know that he refused a summons for troops. And of course he does owe me military obligation, by the ancient charters. He decided on his own that it would be imprudent to help me out. That is not his decision to make."
"Yes, my lady, but I had heard that you planned to have him, um, executed."
"Oh, maybe I did say that. I don't think I--wait a minute. Did Ellimer hear those words?"
"I suppose he did, my lady."
"Oh. But we'd have a trial first. If he steps down as Thane I'll surely let him go."
"But what would he do?" asked Helene. "I am not disagreeing with your judgement, my lady. I just wonder--what does a former Thane do for a living?"
"He could work for me," said Sigrith. "I could use a new boot-washer."
The rest of the way, Vivian tried to work out what to do if Hvanar were held against them by a rebel Thane Ellimer. Just before sunset, the Countess and the chieftain, with their Rukh and Clanish followers, came down the valley of the Snow River and saw the great castle town climbing the side of its mountain. As Nikolad took the breath away, so, in its own way, did Hvanar: impossibly steep streets to impossibly placed turrets, a wide square below and a keep with a great high court at the top of the adjacent cliff, a swift and icy river in front, and every wall and tower dense and solid as if carven by and for giants. It was not, in the event, held against them.
The sun came out on the mountainous horizon, just beyond the clouds' edge, painting the town. They rode across the mighty stone bridge, which was to the High Bridge of Nikolad as a bull is to a swan, and into Hvanar. People poured out of doors and hung from windows, cheering the Countess and their own sons and brothers and husbands and fathers--and also the warrior women and men of the Rukh. Seeing Sigrith walking beside Vivian, and seeing Clanish bowmen arm in arm with red-headed barbarians, they at last believed that there was peace between the County and at least this clan of invaders.
"I've never been inside these walls," said Sigrith. "It's quite a place."
"Could you live here?" asked Vivian.
Sigrith gave her a double take, then said, "I hate to have a roof over my head."
"Even in the winter?"
"Countess, there are such things as furs. And such things as menfolk!"
"Indeed there are."
The crowd was densest in the square before the Thane's keep, a tall, narrow fortress that climbed the side of a cliff. Vivian looked up and up and up: she had seen strikingly beautiful castles, but never had she seen one that made her feel the way mountains did. Vivian heard an awed breath beside her.
"Now that," said Sigrith, "is no house."
The two of them stood there staring like travelers, with Sigrith's daughters around them, until they noticed that the people in the square were chanting: "Vivi-an, Vivi-an, Vivi-an!" And then, starting with the warrior women and taken up boisterously by many of the men of Hvanar, "Sig-rith, Sig-rith, Sig-rith!" They smiled at each other rather sheepishly, the five foot three brunette and the six four blonde.
They noticed three elderly men, and a woman a few years older than Vivian, coming down the steps of the keep. These knelt before the Countess. The chants slowly died away.
"My lady," said the eldest, "I am Hugh fitz-Mathess, Steward to the Thane."
"He has a steward?"
"He's hanged himself," said the woman.
"Whaaat?"
"He has killed himself, Thane Ellimer has," said the steward. "He heard of your approach, and he hanged himself." The three men gaped at the Countess.
She looked inside herself for a reaction. She found none. To her, Ellimer was already dead. She was relieved at not having to debate his punishment. She turned to Sigrith, who looked down on her face with interest, waiting to see what her reaction would be. Vivian took Sigrith's hand by the wrist.
"My people," said the Countess in her deepest voice. The noise of the square vanished. "My people. The seat of the Thane of Siret is empty. May I name your new Thane?"
"Yah!" came the voice of the crowd. She raised her free hand and gestured for silence, and silence returned. She raised Sigrith's hand as far as she could. Some male Siretish voice called out, "Sigrith!"
"I call Sigrith," she cried aloud, "to serve me as Thane of Siret!"
There was a roar from the crowd. Vivian turned to smile at Sigrith, who was properly astonished. "Countess," she started to say, then stopped.
"Kneel, Sigrith of the Rukh." To the surprise of both of them, Sigrith knelt. The woman that had come from the keep stepped forward and held forth a pendant. "Thank you," said the Countess. "Anne Atgate, I guess?"
"I am she," said the Siret scribe.
Vivian glanced at the pendant. It had been forged two hundred years earlier for the very first Thane, a warrior named Rodano who had earned his title by driving out Sigrith's ancestors. She looked upon the warrior kneeling, her head bowed, her red-gold hair gleaming in the twilight. "Sigrith of the Rukh, do you swear allegiance to the Countess of Clane and to the Empire, and promise service when the Countess requires it, and accept in return the duties of the Thane and Guardian of all the people of Siret?"
There was utter silence. Sigrith's own warriors were unsure of what their chieftain would say to that. They had not long to wait.
"I swear fealty to you, o Countess," she said in a strong voice, "and I promise service whenever the Countess requires, and I accept in return the duties of the Thane and Guardian of all the people of Siret."
"Then," said the Countess, lowering the pendant over the fiery hair of the warrior-woman, "I name you, Sigrith of Hildiwern, Thane of Siret, you and your heirs as long as your line shall last."
There was a great shout, and indeed there were great shouts aplenty that day and night and the next day, as the red- and blond-haired barbarians and the Clanish townsfolk alike celebrated the victory of the Countess and the arrival of this exciting new Thane. They could all agree on one point. Things were certainly going to be different from now on.