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Authors: Andre Norton

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BOOK: Silver May Tarnish
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I bowed my head in casual greeting. “I am Farris of Eldale.”
He eyed me. “I have not heard of that place.”
“Likely. Few have. It's a dungheap dale to the Northwest. The invaders struck there recently.'Tis a place hard to find, and I'm sure they came upon it by accident only. I alone escaped, being away on my master's business. I returned to find keep and village still smoldering and all dead.” For a moment I remembered Erondale and Lisia. I shook the memories from me and continued.
“The swine had not even bothered to loot so I took all I could find and rode to take arms against them. I seek employment. A lord who has fewer men but treats them with honor. I am young but I have my own mount, pack-beast, weapons, and gear. I have had some swords-teaching as well. Where would I find such a man who might hire a blank-shield?” I placed five coppers on the table.
My companion nodded. “A wise son indeed. Well then. Were I such a man I would seek out Lord Altan of Berendale. He uses the Inn of The Silver Ship. If he will not
employ you, return here. It is possible my own lord might hire you if I spoke to him.” He grinned hardily. “Of course, I would require to be paid again for an introduction.”
I nodded. “If I returned here, who should I ask for?”
“Aran of Tildale. Good fortune to you.”
I returned his wish and departed in search of Lord Altan. I was unfortunate in that I found the man and he was one such as I had described. But he could not hire me—or would not. I was unsure. But at length I returned to the inn and inquired for Aran. He took me to his lord after relieving me of five more coppers. Thus I was hired as a blank shield by Lord Salden of Tildale and Aran became my friend.
I say my friend and so he was, but I kept a shut mouth on what else was in my charm bag apart from herbs. I wore openly the belt pouch given by the money-changer. From that I dispensed coin as I must and frugally. I loaned Aran coppers when he asked and always he returned them faithfully. We rode mostly as scouts against the invaders, and I learned to kill from ambush, to cut a man's throat silently when needs be, and to judge the best land into which to draw the invaders for a more major attack against them. In another year I was lean and battle-hardened as only a man can be who is constantly riding or fighting on a sparse diet.
I had ridden with my friend for well over a year and was briefly relaxing in our camp, sitting cross-legged while I repaired Drustan's bridle, when Aran came seeking me.
“Listen, Farris, there's talk among the lords.” I could read his suppressed excitement. Some momentous foray must be planned.
“Well, what talk? Are we to storm the invaders last coast-camp? Put all to the sword? Or is it some daring trip across the waste?”
“No.” His face became sober. “'Tis the last battle, I
daresay. Word is that the were-riders have gathered once more.”
“They have been fighting beside us near three years,” I said slowly. “What changes now?”
“I heard that they have the invaders pushed into a corner. Some of us ride to stop bolt-holes. The remainder ride to the final battle.”
I never knew whence Aran had the word, but it was good. My Lord Salden rode out next day taking all in his train with him, with Aran and I riding ahead as scouts. Paltendale rode at the same time, though not quite in our direction. I saw Hogar, Hogeth at his side, with Faslane leading the men. I would that I could have spoken to him but I dared not. I had been fortunate in that never in the many months I had been with Salden had we been paired with Paltendale to ride or scout. Many times I had seen Faslane in the distance and always I had gone some other way. I wished to put no strain on his loyalties.
It was nigh the end of the Year of the Hornet. The enemy had been thrust back and back since the Riders joined hands with our cause. Lord Imgry himself had spoken to the men before we departed, saying that the invaders were cast down. Now was the time for a final repaying of our debt, yet it would not be easy. The invaders were isolated, maddened, and desperate. I wondered then as I rode, if Aran was right and this was to be the last battle.
I was just seventeen, Lord of ruined Erondale. What of me if the fighting ceased? Where would I go, whose dale was ash and rubble? Hidden there in that same rubble was wealth, yet how would I use it? Where should I raise my banner now? Well, I would let the questions bide until after the battle. If I lived I could seek answers. And of my survival I was none too certain.
Near day's end Lord Salden gathered us and spoke as was his wont, quiet and straightforward words to men he knew and trusted.
“A day's ride from here is Hagar Pass. Lord Imgry believes that if his army break the enemy in this battle, some will seek escape through the pass; near to it to the west lies a second similar pass. Paltendale ride to that one to hold the door tight shut.” He paused.
“Both Lord Hogar and I have sworn that should our enemy be slain then those of us who live shall ride to aid the other. Mark that. If I fall I would not be forsworn.” I heard their voices lift about me as the men agreed. Salden nodded grim-faced, raising a large parchment to hang on a frame.
“The plan is simple. Here is the pass we are to guard and the country which lies about it. Better we meet them on the far side. Thus if they push us back they must fight uphill, seeking to force an exit which grows ever narrower against them.”
Aran spoke up. “My Lord, how many might attempt the pass?” The reply explained Salden's grimness and his talk of oaths given.
“Who can tell? The scouts say it could be five or six score. But of late the invaders have shown less liking for battle. In the place where Imgry will meet them they are like to take this formation.” He sketched swiftly with a charcoal stick. Around me men nodded sourly. “Aye. As you see. Those in the rear may break away and flee if they think the battle well lost. There are only two passes they can take if they try for the coast again in hopes of a ship. Also their last camp lies on our line and supplies will doubtless be left there in readiness for them. Paltendale hold one pass and we the other. Imgry is determined to wipe out all of the invaders. Our orders are to hold the passes.” He looked around us, his gaze meeting each man's look in turn.
“To hold. There are no further orders.” I understood and so, by the faces of those about me, did my comrades. We were to hold until only men of one side were left standing.
I thought ill of Imgry that he did not allow more men for the passes. Then I thought of the main battle and guessed he could spare no more to ride with us. Salden was sketching lines on the map again.
“Aran, you and Farris shall ride on ahead to scout the pass. I would be sure this map is correct. Unless Imgry is brought to battle sooner than he expects, it will be the day after tomorrow when we see the enemy.” I made for my horse as he commanded. My pony would be brought along by the pack-horse herder. With Aran at my shoulder, we rode out briskly.
I had named my horse Tas soon after I purchased him. It was the word for one of the hardy scrubs of the Waste. One which lived despite the heat and lack of water. The name was well-chosen—he was as tough and enduring as the plant. I was fond of the beast and he of me, coming when I whistled and nuzzling hopefully for the crusts I saved when I could. We rode until full dark when the pass was before us. Aran's voice to me came out of the night.
“Shall we scout on foot before we make camp?”
I agreed. Things often go wrong once battle is joined and it could be that Imgry had been forced to fight early. If so, the enemy could be upon us before we expected. But there were no signs of them. Even after we had scouted the land before the pass, then climbed high and looked into the darkness. There were no camp fires to be seen, so we descended and made camp in a sheltered spot where their scouts could not spy our fire. In the dawn I scouted yet again while Aran climbed higher on the mountainside. Still we saw nothing until, in the distance, our comrades approached.
I left Aran to report to his lord while I took Tas. I rode at a steady trot far out before the pass, along the trail to where another peak stood proud. This I urged him to climb as far as he might. I halted him when his upward plunges became too labored. I stared across the trail, and in the far distance I saw dust. If that was the enemy they would not be up to
the pass until I had been back two candlemarks or more. Still, I wasted no time in descending and putting Tas to a steady hand gallop.
“My Lord, I see dust on the trail beyond the next peak.” His reply was a signal to the master-at-arms. Horses were run back beyond the pass and picketed there. Soldiers ran to agreed positions and lay down. Aran and I knew already where we were to be. We went there and waited. I had been unsure if those approaching were the enemy, but so it turned out to be. There were only thirty of us and the odds were almost four to one.
It was a vicious battle. They were desperate men and we were but a little less desperate. All of us had lost friends or family at their hands, so we held as they pushed us into the throat of the Pass and there we stood firm. They could neither force us further back nor drag us down. They came at us again and again and died. Enemy they were, and they had done terrible things in their time, but let none say these were not brave men. They died in their tracks and whatever they may have done at Imgry's battle, here none broke or fled.
At length there were few of us remaining. Aran and I; he with a wounded leg which made it hard for him to stand, I with my left arm roughly bound. Lord Salden was down, and most of our comrades. Only two stood beside us now, both wounded. We faced no enemy, I had slain the last as he ran through the master-at-arms. It was late afternoon and we had fought for several hours. Aran staggered to one side and sat heavily upon a stone.
“What do we do now?”
I looked at the three. “I ride. We gave our oath that we would seek out Paltendale and aid them if there was need.” Aran made to stand and I shook my head. “What use will you be to Paltendale if you bleed out in the hills between? You are already almost too weak to stand. Stay and rest with our comrades, eat and sleep. My wound is shallow and the bleeding is stopped. I may be of little use as a
fighter but at least I can reach the other pass and bring back word of what happened there. In the morning, if I am not back, gather the beasts and return slowly to the main camp and Lord Imgry. I will catch up if I can.”
So I rode alone to the second pass which Paltendale had held. I came upon a scene of death there, though I had guessed it beforehand from the buzzards as they dropped from the skies ahead of me. Lord Hogar lay there, together with Faslane and others from Paltendale whom I had known. They had died with honor, for, as I saw from the lack of tracks, no enemy had succeeded in passing them.
I searched quickly amongst the bodies but found no sign of Hogeth and, something that made me frown when I noticed it, Faslane had died of a dagger wound from behind. I recalled his tale of another man who had died that way and I resolved to discover the truth one day, if I could. I saw, too, that the hoof-marks of a single horse led away from the pass in another direction.
I took nothing from that grim scene. I would tell Imgry of it if Imgry still lived. Let him send his men to scavenge among the dead. I met Aran two days into his return and rode back with him to a camp where men ran mad in drunken celebration. I looked on them and knew such was not for me. I would ride on. We sold the horses we had brought back from our battle, dividing the small amount of money equally—horses were not of so much value with the war over. I stayed one last night to drink with Aran, losing to him a little of the coppers and silver from my belt-pouch. He would have need of it when he returned to his own dale.
Aran would have had me return with him, but his dale was not mine. I would look again on the ruins of Erondale; after that I did not know. I had still most of the contents in my charm-bag about my neck, more coin from the sale of the mounts, and I would not starve. My friend wrung my hands in silence, his eyes brimming over.
“If ever I can aid you, call on me.”
I replied with similar words and wished I could have gone with him. But Erondale called, and with morning I saddled Tas and pack-saddled Drustan. With mail under my cloak, sword and dagger at my side, I left as quietly as I had once come to camp. After that I rode slowly for Erondale. I had only vague memories of the night my home fell to the invaders. Perhaps I had been wrong and there had been less damage than I believed. Yet Berond had spoken of “rubble.” I dropped from the high hills into Erondale to find both Berond and memory had been right.
I camped two nights in the ruins mourning Berond and my family. There was nothing here of casual loot, the ruins of keep and village had been picked over many times. Yet Berond had told me well. I scouted carefully, and once I was sure none were about I found the secret—and the treasure of my House which lay hid. I left it untouched and rode on.
For nearly a year after that I rode with other soldiers loosely oathed to Lord Imgry. Men whose work it was to scour the land in search of any invaders who might have escaped that final slaughter. It took time until we could be sure none remained. But two days after my eighteenth birthday, at the end of the Year of the Unicorn, I rode South. I rode without plan or map, wishing only to see and learn the lands I did not know. Twice I dropped down into dales which received me with hatred or fear until they were certain I rode alone without men to follow. Already lordless, landless men were banding together, striking like wolf packs as they ravaged dales that had survived the war.
BOOK: Silver May Tarnish
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