The Legacy of Gird (127 page)

"They call themselves the Khartazh," Aris reported, the next time he came back. "They have large cities to the north, and a king rules in one of them. They trade with the Xhim, far to the south, and over still more mountains in the northwest to folk who live along a seacoast." He frowned, staring at the map of the stronghold which Luap had been working on. "It's hard to believe they mean
northwest;
the great sea is in the east: we all know that. The Honnorgat flows into it, the Immerhoft Sea is part of it—"

"Perhaps it goes all the way around the land," Luap said. He did not really care where the great sea was; he had never seen one, except on a map. Aris, he thought, was like Arranha in one thing—his curiosity could take him away from the point at hand to investigate all sorts of unimportant trifles. If it weren't for his own ability to remember what really mattered, if it weren't for his prudent leadership, his people could find themselves hungry and naked because no one bothered with the boring necessities. He shook his head, banishing that thought: it was unfair. He had many able helpers, and Aris could be practical when necessary. Perhaps he had an illness coming on; he would ask Aris later. But Aris's next word drove that thought from his mind.

"The captain has reported to his king, of course," Aris said. "The king sent word that his ambassador will meet with you at your convenience." Another practical problem, Luap thought, yet to listen to Aris one would think he had produced a solution instead.

"How long will that take?" asked the Rosemage.

"The captain thought it would be sometime in autumn; he says the great lords move as slowly as mountains."

"Then we could still go to our mountain," the Rosemage said with a glance at Arranha. "The younglings have had their fun—"

Luap smiled at her. "I'm not sure it was fun—or was it?"

Aris shrugged, smiling. "Enough that I'll admit we've had our turn. At least it worked out well. But can you spare one of us to be in Dirgizh, learning the language, if the Rosemage and Arranha leave?"

They might as well get all their adventuring done at once, and have it over with before winter. Luap wondered that he had not noticed, back in Fin Panir, the erratic behavior of these four. Now that he thought of it, he had seen, without recognizing, an inability to stick to a task. Arranha had been a rebel among the priests—rightly so, considering that priesthood, but it proved he was undependable in some ways. The Rosemage, after all, had turned against her first lord; even Gird had found her hard to manage. And the young ones had followed no one's pattern; they were likeable, good-hearted, but of the same difficult, questioning temperament as Arranha. A shame, since they all had remarkable talents, but the gods made no one perfect. He would have to learn how best to use their talents without letting their limitations damage the whole settlement.

Gird, he thought, would have imposed his will with a hard fist, but he, Luap, preferred to use more humane methods. It was not for him to command as Gird had; he was not a king, though he was a king's son. He would not make the mistakes his father had made. He would temper firmness with gentleness, where it did no harm. Let them have a loose rein; let them discover for themselves that his reasoning made more sense than their wild intuitions.

So he was careful to keep an even tone as he answered Aris. "As long as they're back when the ambassador arrives. The fieldwork is well in hand; you'd be spending much of your time on other things anyway. Seri, I think you should go; Aris, as our only healer, needs to stay closer until his prentices have more skill. We had another snakebite while you were gone."

"But I can use the mageroad," Aris said. "I could go back and forth each day. Spend part of the day in Dirgizh, and part of it here—"

"I'm not sure that's wise," Arranha said, relieving Luap of the necessity. "What's often seen becomes common; the mageroad is presently a mystery to them, and should remain one."

"I wish we had a horse trail out," Seri said. "Then I'd have a reason to bring our horses from Fin Panir." She and Aris had left their horses behind at first, when the Marshal-General had baulked at letting so many animals into the High Lord's Hall to use the mageroad. Farm stock had been needed first, and after all they had little pasture and no place to ride but the main canyon. Luap had been surprised that they agreed without argument, but he knew they missed their horses. He, too, missed riding a good horse; the few plow ponies they had were rough-gaited and clumsy on trails. Still, bringing that up now was another proof that she could be as erratic, as faulty in judgment, as Aris or the Rosemage. What could
her
horse matter?

"The Marshal-General is not likely to let us bring more beasts through the High Lord's Hall," the Rosemage said. "Even those. And you know we've never fitted a horse into that inner chamber of Luap's cave."

"I know—but if we had them we could ride out there—and it would be quicker going back and forth—"

"Seri." Aris laid his hand on hers. "I know you don't want to be in Dirgizh alone—but is there more?"

"No—just a feeling. They keep talking about demons in here, demons haunting the canyons. What if something happens while I'm away? While the Rosemage is away?"

"I won't command you to go, if it so distresses you," said Luap; at his tone, Seri flushed.

"I'm a Marshal; I have nothing to fear." The look she gave Luap had in it more challenge than respect. Then she grinned and relaxed. "In fact, it should be fun—they'll let me ride their horses, I can see how they drill their troops—"

"And you come back often and let me know," Aris said, almost fiercely.

"And Arranha and I will come back laden with gold and silver and jewels," the Rosemage said, laughing. "And we will all be rich, able to buy all those things in the market you've told us about. We won't have to dig the horse trail by magery; we can hire men to do it."

Luap thought they should have known better. If he had been asked, Arranha and the Rosemage would not have been his choice for the task of exploring the wilderness looking for gold. What did either of them know about it? Arranha, at his age, should spend his time in quiet study and prayer; the Rosemage, too, was no longer young, for all that she could wrap herself in magery so that none could see the silver threads in her dark hair, or the lines at her throat. But he could not argue with Arranha, who had been, in many ways, his mentor. He would never, he told himself proudly, use his power to overwhelm the old priest; if hints would not suffice, he would let Arranha do what he would.

The others talked on, their plans growing ever more grandiose and ridiculous. Luap listened, realizing his responsibility to protect them from themselves. They had talents he did not share, he thought with conscious generosity, but without guidance they would lead themselves—and everyone else—into a tangle of problems.

Aris busied himself, while Seri was in Dirgizh, by reorganizing his stores of herbs and bandages, teaching formal classes to his assistants and prentices, and exploring the main canyon for useful plants. When the Rosemage and Arranha came back from their mountain, when the ambassador had come and gone, and others could speak to the Khartazh as well as he and Seri, he hoped they could leave for awhile. The memory of the long rides with Seri, of the healings he had performed among the farmers, among the horsefolk, rose vividly in his mind. They could not stay forever in Luap's canyons; they had work to do in what he privately considered the "real" world. He missed Raheli and Cob; he even missed the Marshal-General.

Perhaps that explained why the Rosemage and Arranha wanted to explore the gray mountain—perhaps they, too, felt trapped in the canyon. He could not imagine Arranha lying about his motives, but—could anyone really take one look at a mountain and assume it contained gold or silver? The thought came into his mind that all four of them had been unusually distractible lately . . . he and Seri had felt a compulsion to explore the mountaintop, and then the western canyons, while the others took one look at that gray mountain and wanted to go there. None of them seemed to have time to talk things over, as they had when they first came, and when they did confer, their ideas went everywhere; they could come to few conclusions.

Had anyone else had similar desires? Aris intended to ask his assistants, but found himself instead confronted with an emergency that drove everything else out of his mind. Several children had eaten poisonous wild berries, and it took all Aris's skill and power to save them. By the time they were out of danger, he'd forgotten about his earlier concerns. He needed to find out which plants were poisonous, and make sure all the parents knew them; he needed to find remedies for snakebite and sting that could serve when he was not at hand. Luap was right, he thought: he had more than enough work to keep him busy right here.

Luap had no idea what to expect from the Khartazh ambassador. Seri and Aris had described the soldiers and their captain in terms of weapons, and tactics. To his questions about what they wore, and what they looked like, they'd returned doubtful answers. "They're all sunburnt, of course," Seri had said. "Very brown."

"I think it's their natural skin," Aris had said. "Not just the sunburn. Perhaps a natural protection." Both had had much to say about the soldiers' gear, the use of headcloths to keep the sun from their helmets, the small, light horses they rode, the very different shape of their bows . . . but he had gained no insight at all into the men themselves. Nor had Seri been able to describe their language. She and Aris both were quick-tongued; they had learned the horse nomads' difficult speech with ease, and would no doubt learn this before anyone else, but she had spent the past hands of days in the west, with the Khartazh soldiers: she had not been back to teach him what she had learned. He would have to rely on her and on Aris for translation.

Although the captain Seri and Aris had met had told them it might be easily six hands of days before an ambassador would come ("at your convenience" Luap recognized as a term of courtesy, not a reality), in fact he had appeared in less than four. The earlier decision to allow Arranha and the Rosemage to go wandering off to explore the gray mountain now seemed less wise; Luap did not expect them back for days yet. In the meantime he was having to meet a royal ambassador alone, without their help, and it bothered him. He knew it had been his decision to let them go, but he had to fight off the temptation to blame them anyway.

He wished he knew more about protocol in royal courts. His was not, of course, a royal court, but the ambassador represented a king. He ought to show some magnificence, he thought. He had decided to offer the man a chance to rest and eat, if he wished, before their meeting; it was what he himself would want, after a journey up the canyon. He had a chamber prepared, with what luxuries they had brought, and hoped it would do. He had a sinking feeling that it would not.

Seri and Aris, in Marshal's blue, escorted the ambassador from the lower entrance to that chamber by a route that did not take him past the kitchens. One of Aris's prentices ran by the shorter way to let Luap know the man was inside.

"And he has moustaches down to
here
," the boy said, excitedly. "And four servants with boxes and bags and things, and—"

"Did you hear whether he would eat and rest, or whether he wished to meet at once?"

"He was glad of a chance to rest, I think. I can't understand his talk, but Seri and Aris seem to. Aris said he'd come talk to you in a little while."

Luap waited in his office, forcing himself to do necessary copywork to stay calm, until Aris appeared.

"Seri's staying beside the door," he said. "He's happy enough to rest first; he's used to riding wherever he goes, and that climb up into the mountains tired him. We should build a horse trail there, he said. I'd agree; if we ever want to trade, that would make it easier. He didn't think much of our horses when we got to them, but he rides well."

"What's he like?"

Aris shrugged. "It's hard to say. We barely understand each others' words; I think the captain we learned from has a different accent. He's very polite, but then that's what ambassadors are: it's his duty. He talked about some kind of demon that used to live in these mountains, but also about those who built the stronghold. They knew it was here, I think, but were afraid of something if they tried to come. Brigands, possibly; the captain said robbers had been in these mountains forever."

"I wish I could speak their language. It's awkward—"

"Perhaps not. He can't understand us, either. And misunderstandings can be laid on the language problems, not on any ill will."

"Do you have any idea what he wants? Why they sent an ambassador now, rather than letting that captain you met come talk to me?"

"If I understood them, they would consider that disrespectful. Once the captain had agreed that we weren't demons of some kind, he seemed to think we were something more than human. He would not dare, he said, to—I think the word means 'insult'—you by coming himself, when at the very least you should be welcomed by a royal ambassador, if not the king."

"What did you tell them about our settlement?"

"Not much—we're still learning the language. We tried to tell them that we had come from far away sunrising, and we had to travel by magery, not overland. That we lived in a great hall carved in the stone, and were friends of those who built it, not invaders." Aris looked doubtful. "I know that's not all the story, or exactly what you would have said, but it's the best we could do."

"That's fine—it may make us sound grander than we are, but that has its advantages. We don't want to be anyone's conquest."

"That's what Seri said, sir. Today, riding up the canyon, we could tell he was impressed, as much by the children playing in the stream and the fields as by the fields themselves. 'Is it safe?' he kept asking. 'You have not been attacked?' We said no, not by any worse than brigands, and his captain could tell him how we dealt with brigands."