Sorcerer's Moon (35 page)

But would Valardus accept the crown? For all Conrig's bold talk, he knew that deposing Somarus by force was impossible. Another solution must be found.

A trumpet sounded distantly. The earl marshal glanced outside the pavilion, where a cloud of dust was rising near the camp's main entrance. 'I believe His Majesty of Didion has arrived. Will you see him alone, sire, or shall we three work together to make him see reason?'

'You and Sernin together. Earl Marshal,' the Sovereign said with a sigh. 'Somarus hates me, but he respects the two of you. Just remember that he's half off his chump. Appeal to his love of country and the warrior traditions of Didion. Do what you must to get him to accept your leadership. I'll. . . well, it's best that I keep strategically aloof, don't you think?'

The two older men chuckled uneasily but made no reply.

* * *

As the afternoon lengthened in Royal Fenguard castle, the Four Salka Eminences gathered once again to bespeak Beynor and ask whether he would agree to help them obtain moonstone mineral from Demon Seat. Nearly two hours passed before their combined hail was finally answered. They were fatigued and cranky but there was no helping it: they'd have to swallow their indignation and pretend friendship and good will.

'It's good to hear from you, Beynor,' Kalawnn said, ponderously jovial. The other Salka leaders were content to leave
most of the negotiating to him, after having agreed how the human was to be handled. 'When we were unable to contact you at first, we feared for your safety.'

I'm fine. I was merely preoccupied with other affairs. No doubt you perceive that I'm situated in Boarsden Castle, where the leaders of the Sovereignty have been gathered in a Council of War. They've found out about your new Salka offensive, you know.

'Yes, that's a pity. We hoped to keep our intentions secret for as long as possible. But our valiant warriors had no choice but to obliterate the ship of the Tarnian spies, once they became aware of it. At least it was possible to muffle the further attempts of the human foes to bespeak information to their confederates before they were slaughtered.'

You were able to do that, were you? My congratulations! The spell of windspeech suppression is a complex one that I've never been able to master.

'It requires the concerted action of several hundred trained minds,' said Kalawnn proudly. 'We used a variant of the spell to blur the movements of our troops in the Beacon Valley, and we also use it when our main army communicates with the reinforcements moving around the south end of the island. But enough of Salka tactics. Shall I set forth the proposition we're prepared to extend in exchange for your help at Demon Seat?'

Master Kalawnn, I'm truly sorry. But at this time I can't undertake a long journey to Cathra, no matter what valuable considerations you offer. Conrig has accepted my claim to the throne of Moss. I'm once again its true king-in-exile and a loyal vassal of the Sovereignty of Blenholme -

'What?!'

Don't be dismayed. It's all a ruse to help me win Conrig's trust. This changes nothing between us, save that I'm now forced to postpone performing the favor you requested of me. The opportunities available here if I act immediately are stupendous. I can't ignore them.

'But - but you're willing to abandon us? When we offer our Potency to lift your curse - to say nothing of a myriad of other great gifts?'

I won't abandon you, old friend! Don't misunderstand. This is only a temporary change of plan, until I'm fully accepted by Conrig. Kilian is dead, you know. His passing leaves a useful power void that I intend to exploit. It's likely that I may now be able to assist your battle strategy as well. My great goal is to destroy Conrig -remember that! I'll do whatever I can to further your new invasion.

'We are greatly disappointed,' the Supreme Warrior grumbled. 'We had hoped for your assistance in obtaining raw moonstone, but there are other options open to us. Furthermore, we are in no way dependent upon your help to ensure the success of our new invasion -'

Where do you plan to come ashore, Ugusawnn? At Donorvale? . . . Or perhaps at Terminal Bay?

The Warrior concealed his dismay at the human's lucky guess. Or was it a guess? 'What makes you think we would choose either objective?'

I eavesdropped on the Sovereign's strategy session a few hours ago. Those two locations were picked out of a hat as being particularly vulnerable. You can count on their being heavily defended from the sea.

'What about from the land?'

Ah. That's another matter. Splitting up the Army of the Sovereignty is an option Conrig fiercely resisted, but his military advisers convinced him he had no choice but to do it. For the time being, their plans call for half of the troops to mass at Castle Direwold, near Frost Pass in the White Rime Mountains. If necessary, they'll undertake a forced march to defend the Tarnian capital. The other half will wait at the Lake of Shadows, near Elderwold, on the off-chance that you'll attack Terminal Bay. Either wing can reinforce the other once the point of attack is known for certain. However, Conrig is faced with an irksome dilemma.

'Indeed?' All four Eminences bespoke the query. 'What kind of dilemma?'

King Somarus is baulking at ordering any of his troops into Tarn. Conrig wants half the Didionite warriors to join the force at Direwold - an even split, as Tarn and Cathra agreed to. Somarus claims his men and the rest of the army as well are bound to be caught by winter weather in a far-northern country that won't be able to feed them. But he's really holding back for another reason: the worm has turned. He's sick of taking orders from Ironcrown.

'Ahroo!' the Master Shaman exclaimed. 'But has Somarus a choice in the matter?'

He stomped off in a fury after telling his generals they'd be executed if they ordered any troops into Tarn. The High Sealord and Earl Marshal Parlian will work with Somarus's son Valardus in an effort to change the king's mind. It's a rather droll battle of wills! I can hardly wait to see what happens next. . . By the way, where DO your people intend to land? You never answered my question.

'Nor do we intend to,' Kalawnn said equably. 'What benefit would accrue to us by doing so?'

I really think I'll be able to help you.

'Give us tangible evidence of that, Beynor of Moss, and then bespeak us again. For now, I bid you farewell.'

Kalawnn cut the windthread and regarded the other three Eminences with a resigned expression. 'That's that, colleagues.'

'But the Great Lights could not have lied!' The First Judge cried. 'They told us -'

'They told us to
ask
Beynor about obtaining raw material from the crag,' Kalawnn said. 'They never said Beynor was the only one who might fetch it.'

'But who else could do the job?' the Judge asked.

‘I could,' Ugusawnn said.

'Ahroo!'
the others exclaimed.

'Kalawnn's artisans have begun fashioning a Subtle Gateway sigil,' the Supreme Warrior reminded the others. 'If
they are successful, the Great Stone might be used in more than one way ... by a person who is prepared to accept the enormous pain-price. I've already told you I'm willing! It's my destiny as Supreme Warrior to carry Destroyer to our invading forces. But if it's the will of this group, I'll gladly travel first to Demon Seat and back, bringing whatever moonstone mineral I can prudently carry.'

'The triple pain-debt might kill you,' the Master Shaman pointed out, 'unless you postpone the third journey until you have sufficiently recovered.'

'I'll take the risk. If I perish, another warrior can bond to Destroyer. Our army must have that weapon! Victory depends on it. We've already agreed on that point.'

'True,' the Conservator of Wisdom noted.

'What if Beynor bespeaks us with a new proposal concerning the invasion?' the First Judge said.

The Supreme Warrior gnashed his crystalline fangs and suggested that the Conjure-King then be told to perform an impossible sexual act upon himself.

'No,' Kalawnn said, when the others had finished laughing. 'We'll listen. The Great Lights said that we have things to learn from him. And I, for one, intend to continue doing so.'

To keep the capture of Maudrayne's friend secret, Tinnis Catclaw had ordered Sir Asgar Beeton and his men to take her directly to a disused fowler's blind in the marsh behind Castle Boarsden, an isolated locale he was familiar with from hunting parties led by Duke Ranwing.

Late in the evening, after receiving word that the prisoner was secure there, the Lord Constable rode out along the dike track with the warrior who had brought the news. He had scarce paid any attention to Rusgann Moorcock during the years she'd spent as Maudrayne's companion at Gentian Fell Lodge. Indeed, the creature had been conspicuous only for
her homeliness - and Lord Tinnis, like many other people who were fair of face, equated plain features with slowness of wit. He thought it would be an easy matter to ascertain whether the woman was carrying a message to Prince Dyfrig, and discover what dangerous information she might already have passed on to persons at the earl marshal's castle.

But Rusgann, whom he found sitting on the lattice-like duckboard floor of the hut with her wrists bound, seemed uncowed by her desperate situation. 'I ran away from captivity, my lord. That's all. I carry no secret message, nor did I steal anything from your lodge, as these men have claimed.'

The constable said to the stocky knight, 'Asgar, did you search her and her baggage thoroughly for letters or other clues to her purpose?'

'Yes, my lord.' Beeton grimaced. 'We tore her mule's saddle and tack to pieces and did the same with her bags, then stripped her bare - and a sight to turn a strong man's stomach
that
was! She carried no message of any kind, nor any other unusual thing, save a purse with nearly fifty marks in silver, which I have kept safe.'

Tinnis addressed Rusgann. 'So Lady Mayda caused you to memorize the message. Tell it to me at once, or you will be forced to speak.'

'There is no message,' Rusgann insisted again. 'My lady knew nothing of my intent to escape. I did it on my own, without her prior knowledge. You have no cause to blame her for anything -'

'Your lady is dead,' Tinnis Catclaw interrupted gently.

Rusgann went rigid, then gave a great wail of despair. 'No! You lie!' She burst into tears.

'The Lady Mayda perished this very afternoon when Gentian Fell Lodge was accidentally consumed by fire. It is a great tragedy.'

Rusgann screamed, 'You did it! You caused her death. But it'll do you no good, you murdering drab's-cunny!' And she spat in his face.

Sir Asgar struck her a great blow in the mouth with his fist, but she kept calling the constable obscene names and trying to struggle to her feet.

'Gag her, Asgar,' Tinnis said, fearing she would speak Maudrayne's true name next or reveal some other thing he wished kept from the guards. 'Tie her ankles as well. Then send your men outside to wait beyond earshot. Cut a number of osier switches and return to me. We'll soon make her talk.'

While his orders were carried out, he wiped the spittle away with a silk kerchief and studied the prisoner calmly. 'Rusgann Moorcock, I know you carry a message of some sort from the Princess Dowager to her son, Dyfrig. But your hope of meeting the prince is futile. He is nowhere near Boarsden. The Sovereign sent him on a mission deep into the Green Morass and it will be weeks before he returns. By then you will be as dead as Maudrayne - unless you tell me what message she entrusted to you.'

Rusgann shook her head violently. Her eyes blazed with hatred above the military neckcloth that stopped her mouth.

'You'll speak sooner or later,' he warned her. 'The only difference will be the amount of suffering you endure.'

She only glared at him in stony defiance until the knight returned, carrying numbers of flexible willow branches stripped of leaves.

'Lay her on her face and flog her,' Tinnis ordered. 'Thirty lashes to start with.'

Asgar ripped Rosgann's gown from collar to waist and fell to his work. But when the gag was finally removed, she only moaned and whispered, 'I know nothing. There is no message.'

'Thirty more,' the Lord Constable said without emotion. 'Leave off the gag this time. If she indicates that she will speak, stop.'

The scourging continued, but she only cried out curses and screamed like a wildcat. Finally the flesh of her back was a mass of oozing scarlet cuts and she was so weakened by pain and blood loss that she lost consciousness.

'Throw water on her,' Tinnis ordered.

The captain took up an old wooden bucket that stood at one corner of the hut and went outside to dip it into the pond that the blind overlooked. Returning, he flung the bucket's contents over the tortured woman. The scum-laden liquid drained away through the slots in the duckboard floor. Rusgann did not move, nor did she cry out.

'You haven't killed her, have you?' Tinnis said anxiously.

Asgar laughed. 'Not a bit of it, my lord. She's a sturdy old bag, but I don't think she'll revive for some time. What are your orders?'

'See that she's covered warmly and let her be. You and your company may return to Boarsden. Leave two reliable men to guard her - and warn them to pay no heed to any fanciful lies she may tell when she wakes. They may threaten her with fearsome punishments to come, but make them understand that she must not be otherwise mistreated. If she dies, so will those who guard her.'

'And in the unlikely event that she shows signs of failing, all on her own - what then?'

'One of the men must come to the castle and fetch me at once,' the Lord Constable said. 'Otherwise, she is to be given water and bread, if she'll eat it, and taken outside to relieve herself. I have unavoidable business to tend to during the day tomorrow, but we'll return and start again on her after nightfall.'

CHAPTER
ELEVEN

The tall young girl who called herself Queen Casabarela finished her conversation with Ising Bedotha, who was manning the riverboat's tiller, and came forward to where Induna sat at the foot of the mast. They were passing through an area of brushy flatland where the River Kelk wound in sluggish braids before its confluence with the Upper Malle. It was nearly noon.