Chapter XIV

Tourth

“He did what?” Iscarus bellowed. Feet apart, hands on hips, eyes blazing, he filled the great hall with his anger. The ten men from his hunting party had been murmuring among themselves, but Iscarus’ outburst brought all the attention to himself. I couldn’t help seeing some of each of his older brothers in him at that moment.

“Keilvey took Hiller, Svhen, and the thirty men captive. They are practically to the enforcer’s fortress by now.” Wren pointed to the sliver of waning daylight beyond the windows.

“He followed you?” He rounded on her. And she didn’t even flinch.

“He didn’t. The increased activity on this end of the valley drew their attention. He sent a spy to scout it out. A man named Aexlem.”

Iscarus’ face lost all color while Arthus broke into a violent fit of coughing. “Not that traitor. That…” A string of insults not fit for anyone’s ears fell out of his mouth.

“Cool it, Iscarus.” I cut him off. “You have obviously been hanging out with Warwick too long. That is not the way to speak in front of a woman. Calm down and tell us why that name is significant.”

“He sold the knowledge of King Sigmon’s battle plans to Orac’s commander. He is the reason we lost the war.”

“One of the reasons,” I pointed out. “So, what is he doing here?”

“Selling secrets?” Iscarus suggested.

“Hawthorne would be an easy target.” Wren pressed a flask of water into Arthus’ hand. “He has always been willing to try a quick plan for riches and glory. If Aexlem offers the right bits of information, he would be an eager buyer.”

“Regardless, Enforcer Hawthorne has just declared war on my brother. Capture and restraint of a noble’s brother as well as a company of his enlisted men bearing his crest is an act of war between neighboring lands. Philon isn’t going to take this timidly.”

“He will claim they were inciting rebellion,” Wren pointed out.

“Regardless he has no grounds. We are on Tourth’s land. Even if Tourth doesn’t officially hold the title, he still owns the land. We are here with his permission for peaceful purposes repairing his property. The law will uphold my brother’s right to use force should the enforcer not release Hiller and the men immediately.”

I jumped in. “Wren guesses that the enforcer will wait until King Orac shows to execute Svhen. If we come with you to speak with Philon, do you think we can get back with an army before they arrive?”

Arthus opened his mouth and began hacking again.

“You will accept the help?” Iscarus stared at me in surprise.

“Yes. Svhen’s life is at risk. I can’t let him die if there is something I can do about it.”

“Won’t…work!” Arthus’ chest heaved as he wheezed for a moment. “Orac a day’s march away. The soldiers mentioned it while they were…” He broke into coughing again.

“While they searched for you?” Wren rubbed his back.

He nodded and nursed his flask.

“I suggest an alternate plan.” Iscarus began pacing. “I leave for Sidle Valley seeking reinforcements. I will take Arthus with me. You see if you can find Orac before he reaches the enforcer’s fortress. You mentioned that he is reasonable. Speak to him and convince him to accept your bid for the title. Lord willing, he will listen and remove the enforcer’s power.”

“I said I only thought he would be reasonable.”

He shrugged. “Bring up the law and the enforcer’s infractions against it. Even if he doesn’t honor your request for your family title, he will still remove the enforcer.”

A sullen lump hardened in my gut. “I don’t like it.”

“What choice do you have? Can you think of another plan?”

“I don’t even know what direction Orac is coming from.” The words sounded whiny in my ears, but it was true.

“Take Wren. She can help you.”

Wren opened her mouth. I assumed it was to protest, but she never got a chance.

“I know where King Orac is. I will take you to him.”

Half the men reached for their swords, Iscarus included. A strange man stood in the open doorway wearing the livery of the enforcer’s paroling force. His dark eyes sought out Arthus and then Wren among the men before turning to me.

“Lord Myth, I presume.” He stepped forward, knelt on the crushed rushes, and offered the back of his neck in the time honored gesture of loyalty.

“I don’t think…  Iscarus stepped forward to comment, but Wren stopped him by cutting in front of him.

“Pardon, Lord Iscarus.” She met my eyes as she laid a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Lord Mynth, I present Tyron. He is a friend of Svhen. He is the one who warned us of the press gangs.”

“I beg to be allowed to help you now.” Tyron lifted his head to meet my gaze.

He remained kneeling. A strange tightening in my chest came with the words I needed to speak. They had been the last words my father had spoken to me. “Rise, Tyron, I accept your request and your service.”

Tyron rose. “King Orac is approaching from the south, my lord. This valley is the second to final stop on his four month long progress inspecting his lands. The enforcer intends to hang Svhen for crimes against the crown the day after the king arrives.”

“Then we don’t have much time,” Iscarus pointed out. “You have to make a decision, Tourth. I recommend the plan I outlined. It seems the best possibility. We cannot attack with our small force.” His sweeping arm included his ten remaining men, Wren, and Arthus, who began coughing again. Tyron glanced over at Arthus while Iscarus continued.

“Even if King Orac will not settle in your favor, at least your attempt will stall him long enough so that Philon can arrive to register his own complaint against the enforcer. Orac will have to answer Philon, and there is a chance we can save Svhen.”

My brain wouldn’t think. Exhaustion from too little sleep and extra exercise pulled at my joints. With the emotional drain from worrying about Wren, reliving memories, and facing the fact I was stepping into my father’s shoes without the benefit of his guidance, I couldn’t process another thing. “Wren?”

She looked up at me. Calm golden eyes flecked with brown studied my face.

“Can you think of another plan?”

“Iscarus’ sounds best as far as I can see.”

I turned to Iscarus. “Ready yourselves to leave. Give my love to my sister. Wren, Tyron and I will ride South immediately.”

Organized chaos erupted. Wren turned to Tyron and asked, “Do you have a horse?” One of the men led Arthus off toward the barracks, and Iscarus began issuing orders. I walked among them as though in a dream. My cot knocked at my shins without memory of the steps between the great hall and the barracks. I gathered my journey bag and necessities in a fog.

“Are you alright?” Wren’s voice cut through the haze. She stood in the doorway of my room dressed for travel, saddlebags slung over one shoulder. Worry pulled at her eyebrows.

“I am taking my father’s place.” I sat on the edge of my cot. “It feels wrong and right at the same time. I am not sure which way to turn. If my father had lived, I planned on returning from the war and learning more of the statecraft I was going to take up. His murder changed that. Everything changed. He isn’t here to coach me, and my knowledge is incomplete. What if I make a mistake?”

Her hand on my shoulder stopped my worried wanderings. “You are a great leader, Tourth. The evidence is overwhelming. Dardon, Svhen, and Arthus follow you and have thrown their lots in with yours. Philon, Hiller, Warwick, and Iscarus speak highly of you and were willing to offer support immediately before knowing the situation. None of them impress me as men easily led into things.”

“You weren’t around when we were growing up,” I muttered.

She smiled slightly, but she didn’t stop. “Finally, and most telling, your people are following you. At risk of their lives, they protect you and are willing to die rather than reveal your presence in the valley.”

My chest constricted. “The enforcer is torturing them?”

She squatted down so that we were almost nose to nose, her saddlebags on the floor. Strange changeable eyes focused intently on mine, she demanded my complete attention. “These people need you, Tourth. Deus has chosen you. His wisdom is perfect and He never makes a mistake. Keep your eyes on Him and your feet on His path; He will never lead you astray.”

“Are you two finished drooling over each other?” Iscarus asked from the doorway. Wren flushed an appealing shade of rose before scooping up her bags. “Poor Tyron is waiting out in the courtyard with his horse wondering when you are heading out.”

“We are coming,” Wren replied.

Iscarus grunted and strode off yell orders again.

Wren met my gaze steadily for a long breath as though measuring something before turning away. “Meet you in the courtyard,” she called back as she disappeared in the direction of the outer door.

I was left to my packing and sorting out this strange feeling growing in me regarding the unusual stranger weaving herself into our lives. I had some serious internal examining to do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wren

The crisp night air spoke of more snow before morning. I adjusted the lantern on its hook so the light fell more clearly on the path ahead. Behind me Tyrone’s mount, a heavy-footed plodder, snuffed, shaking its head. I quite agreed with the sentiment. Night was a poor choice to travel, if we had a choice, but we didn’t.

“The next crossroads should offer markings for a trail due south,” Tyron offered. “We can take that, but I cannot promise we won’t run into a scout from the enforcer or King Orac.”

“It is worth a risk,” I assured him. “We should be running into Orac’s outlying scouts any moment now if your information is correct.” I glanced farther back through the night to where Tourth’s stallion, Trader, was trailing with his silent master on his back. “Are you ready with what you need to say, Tourth?”

“Ready as I will be,” he replied.

I couldn’t really see either of them in the blackness, but I could hear them. Turning my attention back to the trail, I lapsed back into prayer.

Father. I took a deep breath. You understand this new element so much better than I.

I had never felt this way about a man before Tourth. True, I sensed attraction for other men, but it had been nothing more than admiration of one aspect of them. With Tourth it was different, stronger and deeper.

I first saw him as an opportunity for a solid roof over my head. Then, he became a project. I knew that I was beginning to see these people as family similar to my own and wanting to be a part of that, but I never saw this new… Attraction didn’t seem like the right word, though there was definitely that. Respect, affection, similar interests, and family all seemed to be intertwined with it, but at the root, it seemed to be a connection.

Something rooted us together in a way different from my relationships with Svhen, Arthus, and Dardon. More primal and exclusive, it resembled... My breath caught as the realization dawned. It was romantic love. It wasn’t mature enough to be considered worthy of an outward action like a kiss. However, it remained, rooted in mutual affection and respect and promised a lot more than the barely visible attraction that peeked out at us now.

The question, Father, is do I encourage this and see where it goes or root it out now?

I didn’t get the chance to listen for His answer. The sounds of a horse on the trail ahead drove all musings from my thoughts as I reached for one of my throwing knives with my free hand.

“Who goes there?” the new arrival queried, drawing his horse to a halt. He also carried a lantern. It swung wildly, illuminating trees and the gold, brown, and orange crest adoring the saddle blanket of the horse. A flashing glint of light on metal indicated he was also armed.

“Travelers seeking to meet the King’s party,” I replied.

“Then you found it.” Another horse formed out of the night and pawed the edge of the lit path. The man riding it wore a heavily crested helmet. “What business do you have with the King, woman?”

“The business is mine.” Tourth urged Trader forward between Brone and Tyron’s mount. “I beg audience with King Orac on an urgent matter regarding the state of his realm.”

“Speak to me, then. I am the King’s Uluimere, I handle all the business of the king.”

“I respectfully decline, Lord Portan.” Tourth inclined his head. “This matter must be primarily for the king’s ears.”

An uneasy silence fell. The horses shuffled and snuffled, but none of the riders spoke. Lord Portan’s face was hidden in the shadowed recesses of his helm, unreadable. Tourth’s features, barren in the glow from the lanterns, formed an indiscernible mask. Unseen by the man across the circle, Tourth’s hand nearest me shook so that he had to rest it on his thigh to steady it.

“Very well, stranger. I will wake King Orac, but what you have to say better be worthy of the inconvenience. His Majesty does not suffer fools or exaggerators who wish to waste his time.”

“Thank you, Lord Portan.” Tourth bowed his head again.

Lord Portan gave a signal. An armed company formed around our group. He turned his steed and started back the way he had come. We followed at a slower pace huddled together in the midst of a dozen man escort.

Out of the night, a harsh screech made my heart leap. My falcons had been absent for so long, I was relieved to hear one of their calls. Our escorts as a group swiveled their heads seeking the sound. I scanned them, as best I could to see if any of them carried bows.

At my side, Tourth tensed. “Is one incoming?”

“Could be. If they think I am being threatened, they might attack.”

A crease appeared between his eyes brows. “Who is the leader here?” he asked the nearest guard.

“Captain?” The guard turned to the man to his right. “The man wishes to speak to you.”

“Yes?” The men switched places with minimal maneuvering indicative of habit and skill.

“A falcon is going to drop out of the sky and land on this woman’s shoulder within a few minutes. May we request that it be allowed to do so without anyone drawing a weapon?”

The captain’s eyebrows rose. “Will it attack?”

“Only if it feels I am being threatened,” I responded although the question was directed to Tourth.

“And if no one acts threatening, it will refrain?”

“I am reasonably sure it will.”

“Isn’t it trained?”

“No, it is wild. It just chooses to associate with me.” It was the easiest way to describe my relationship with my birds in a situation such as this. He needed to understand I didn’t control the birds. They were free to come and go. They were kind enough to honor the training and fulfill my requests.

The captain turned away to issue the order just as a distant flapping indicated the bird’s approach. It called again. This time I answered with a shrill whistle. Tourth winced at my right elbow.

The answering call clarified which bird only a moment before Keaton swept out of the darkness like a piece of the night detaching itself from the curtain enclosing us. Claws caught my shoulder, but his weight shifted sloppily. He almost fell, catching my head with his wing in his effort to right himself. He gave a pained squawk. I dropped Brone’s reins and reached up to calm him.

It was only when he had settled on my right arm, setting his feathers to rights that I realized the whole company watched us with mixed expressions of curiosity and uncertainty.

“He is injured,” I explained.

“We can see that, lady,” one of the men replied. His young face watched me stroke Keaton’s black-brown breast with awe. “Will he be alright?”

I smiled at him. Not everyone could tell the genders apart. “Keaton will be fine. He chiefly needs rest. Do you mind if he stays with me?”

“As long as he doesn’t attack anyone, we don’t mind. You aren’t prisoners.” The captain signaled for us to move out.

I urged Keaton to perch on my left shoulder. He willingly obeyed, stroking my ear with his beak upon perching. Then, he went to sleep.

I glanced at Tourth to find him stifling a smile.

“What is so amusing?”

“Keaton’s arrival raised our party’s prestige tenfold. Only a high ranking lord keeps falcons in these parts.”

I nodded. I had gathered that from my travels.

“A bird that answers your call, is trained to the point of coming willingly, and behaves like that around a human is unheard of. I wouldn’t be surprised if you will be esteemed as a miracle worker or a witch among these men by the morrow.”

“Sooner, if I have any say.” The captain urged his horse closer to Brone on my left. “How long have you kept that bird?”

“I raised him from a hatchling. We are blessed. He is the most stranger friendly among my birds.”

“You have more, lady?”

“I do; six more, but I no longer ‘have’ them. They come and go as they please. Sometimes, as a favor, to me, they carry messages between my siblings and myself.” I glanced at him only to encounter an awed stare.

“Seven falcons?”

“She is not from around here,” Tourth commented from my other side.

“Obviously. King Orac will most likely wish to speak with you. He is attempting to gather a number of birds himself, but has not been very successful finding a keeper for them who demonstrates skill enough to please him. He might wish for a lady bird keeper upon meeting you.”

Thinking of Tourth, Kat, and the whole situation at hand, I frowned. “I am not interested in a position at this time; however, I would be more than willing to discuss birds with him.”

We approached the outer edges of a camp. I estimated a company 2,000 strong surrounded us as we rode sedately to the center of the encampment.

Lord Portan himself awaited our arrival before a simple tent just like all the others surrounding it. The sole marking that it was the king’s was the gold, brown, and orange crested banner hanging over the opening. We dismounted in front of Portan. His eyes widened upon seeing Keaton, but he didn’t comment before escorting us inside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

© 2011 Rachel Rossano