A New Hope teaser ... (C)
As if in balance, the winter was as mild as the last had been harsh, with plenty of rain but neither snow nor frosts. Elsa was pleased that she could continue to train with Master Ashtor, if less so at having what seemed like permanently damp clothing and muddy shoes. Her archery practice also paid off, earning her a silver crown from Farmer Hendon when she managed to shoot a fox that had raided his henhouse and came back for seconds. She knew she’d been lucky, and didn’t like killing so large an animal, but the cured pelt was useful enough, and she’d seen what the fox had done, leaving far more hens messily dead than it had needed as food, so she wasn’t repining.
Oastleighs were another matter. Edrich and Richars were steering clear of her and Loomis, which was a boon, but they hadn’t gone away and spat when they saw her, as their father still glared. Mulling it, mindful of Ashtor’s advice about sneaky and still wondering about her own dreams, she asked a puzzled but then amused Farmer Hendon for permission to cut some wood from his coppices, dried lengths in the forge’s warm air, shod the tips with some help from her da, and started teaching Loomis and those of his friends who were interested just how useful even a short staff could be. Her own skills impressed them, and they all knew they had reason enough to learn, so although time had to be squeezed out from chores they worked at it, and she found teaching a useful form of practice. She was also very stern indeed with them about never abusing any weapon, or swinging a staff if you didn’t mean it to do exactly what it would to whatever it hit, just as Master Ashtor had been with her, and backed it with both a demonstration of what a shod staff-tip could do even to oak, and practice in hitting things just as hard as you had to, and no harder. Eggshells and nutshells from the midden were useful, with bones and discarded bits of slate, and as the weeks passed there were kind words from more than one parent, seeming as amused as impressed, that puzzled her ; when her da explained that the younglings heeded her better than they did their parents she harumphed, making him laugh.
As it turned out, her idea had been more timely than she knew, and the day after Longnight she found herself taken by her da to the inn, to be thanked formally - the innkeep’s younger daughter, Anna, having saved her sister Laniel, only fourteen but very full-figured, from a half-drunken Richars Oastleigh who’d jumped her in the stables, with an exact staff to the back of his head. On Oren’s urgent advice a still groggy Richars had been hogtied and carted straight to Disart, with a formal complaint sworn out, and though Master Oastleigh was furious, and said many things, it was out of his hands. Oren and the innkeep were cautious - my Lord was away in Corus, and the case would be heard when the festivities were over by his heir, Sir Balduin - but not sorry.
“To let a lad like Richars get away with that is just storing up grief and trouble. But I’m willing to bet you’ll be called to speak also, Elsa, to explain how a six-year-old could do what Anna did.”
Oren was right, and Elsa found her stomach roiling as they travelled to Disart, but she kept strong for Anna and Laniel, and in the event all was well enough although there were far more people watching than she’d expected. Sir Balduin was a strapping young man, bluntly spoken but not unkind, listening carefully to answers, and if he quizzed Anna and Laniel hard about exactly what had happened, and Elsa just as thoroughly about what she’d done, he seemed pleased by what they said. There was a mage present who tested critical points by truthspell, the first time Elsa had seen such magic worked, and she was pleased by the sharp white flares her own test produced when she affirmed hearing what Oren had thought the Great Goddess’s own voice. Sir Balduin also heard from Oren and Ashtor, about both Oastleigh boys’ as bullies, and from the Steward, Ashtor’s father, about his own father summoning Master Oastleigh. But what really impressed Elsa, and everyone, was his sharp questioning of Master Oastleigh about what he had or hadn’t done to assuage his liegelord’s clear concerns, and at the last a relentless examination of Richars that tripped him in lies a dozen times over, truthspells flaring a lurid red, and left it clear as daylight to all that he had, however drunkenly, intended rape, as violently as he found necessary. He’d even boasted of it to Edrich.
“Well, now.” Sir Balduin steepled strong fingers. “You’re a nasty knave and a bad liar, Richars Oastleigh, and your father’s twice a fool for not having checked you, and derelict to his liegelord besides. You are plainly and confessedly guilty of attempted rape, proven by truthspell, you’re of age to pay for what you do, and by law the penalty’s five years in the mines, as for rape itself. I see no reason to be lenient.” Richars went a dirty white, and so did his father. “Miss Farrier gave you clear warning, as my father gave yours, but you lay in wait in a stableblock with every intent of forcing a virgin. Vile, contemptible, and cowardly. I know the penalties for rape and attempted rape haven’t always been properly enforced, but since the Chamber of the Ordeal exposed Vinson of Genlith five years back they jolly well have been in Corus. And they will be here. You’re also fined one gold noble to replace Miss Laniel’s dress, and another to be paid to her in compensation. That can be done now, but there will be a delay otherwise, because my father will need to confirm your sentence, and he won’t be back for a while yet - King’s Council will be heading to New Hope for Imbolc, to inspect it as a prospective fief, so I’m not expecting him before Ostara.”
There was enough murmuring that Sir Balduin looked around.
“More New Hope watchers, eh ? Join the crowd - it’s an amazing place, by all accounts, and from what I hear very probably will become a new fief, the first since Irismere.”
“Under Lady Keladry, Sir Balduin ?”
“Also very probably, Ashtor. You look pleased.”
“My army friends in the north all sing her praises. And she stopped the killing devices.”
“True.” Sir Balduin smiled crookedly. “I can’t say that didn’t surprise me, but Keladry doing something remarkable doesn’t. She always had a presence. And she can by Mithros joust. Now where was I ? Oh yes, a delay, waiting on my father’s return. And as I can see you running, Richars Oastleigh, like the coward you are, with or without your father’s let, you’ll stay in your cell or labour in chains, as a convict should. As for you, Master Oastleigh, you can take him food, if you want, but prisoners here don’t starve. And you can appeal to my father for clemency, but I’ll bet you get short shrift - raising a lad who’ll try what yours did is no recommendation to anyone, and there’s your own failure too, though that’s between you and your liegelord, for now, at any rate. And I’ll say three more things before we end. One is that you, Edrich Oastleigh, need to mend your ways fast if you’re not to follow your brother to the mines. Look to it, boy, before it’s too late, and you and your wife, Master Oastleigh. Second is my strong commendation of Miss Anna - saw wrong being done, and stopped it, very bravely and efficiently. Good for her. And third is just as strong a commendation of Miss Farrier, not only defending herself and her brother, but learning to do it better and then teaching others how to do the same. Very good for her. And we’re done.”
Amid the bustle as a shaking Richars was escorted out, stunned father and brother following, and a shaken Anna and Laniel were surrounded by family, Elsa found herself summoned by Sir Balduin and a tall, green-eyed woman who’d joined him, introduced as his wife, Lady Jessamine, and invited to take tea with them. Her da wasn’t going to refuse, and Master Ashtor was invited too, accepting with alacrity. Entering the fortified Great House Elsa was distracted by the sheer wealth on display, then by the suits of polished armour flanking the staircase, but the room they were taken to was a private apartment, more comfortably if still very richly furnished. Elsa was as curious as she was nervous, but after tea had been served, in the finest cups she’d ever seen, it was unexpectedly Lady Jessamine who spoke.
“I would add to my husband’s commendations, Miss Farrier, and I wondered if you knew about the women’s self-defence classes in Corus.”
“The what ? I’m sorry, my lady, but I’ve never heard of anything like that.” Curiosity stirred harder. “Classes for all women, my lady ?”
“All who want, yes. And I did, even before Neal jabbered at me about them.” Lady Jessamine smiled. “It’s a long story, but in brief, Sir Nealan of Queenscove is my elder brother, and although he’s older than Lady Keladry he was in the same page-year as her, and she taught her maid Lalasa Isran how to defend herself against men. Then Lalasa, Mrs Weaver now, did just as you did when Master Ashtor taught you, and set about teaching others. The classes run regularly, and some who complete them become teachers themselves, so it spreads.” This smile was both warmer and wryer. “After Lady Keladry bent her ear, Her Majesty made them compulsory for all female palace servants, and as Lady Keladry also bent the Lord Magistrate’s ear, which I would love to have heard, all the sitting magistrates are backing the classes with hard sentences for any man convicted of attacking a woman. It’s one good reason Sir Balduin judged as he did today, so I wondered if you were a … ripple, shall I say ? - a further consequence of what Mrs Weaver and Lady Keladry have done in Corus, especially with the Great Goddess adding her voice to those chimes, as she did at New Hope. But it seems not - which is even more commendable, I think, if you came up with the idea on your own.”
“Oh.” Thoughts spun in Elsa’s mind, and a glance at Master Ashtor gained a fractional nod. “Um … yes and no, my lady. I knew nothing of these classes, but I was thinking of Lady Keladry, talking with Master Ashtor, only it was about being straightforward, like her killing that horrid mage, or me punching Richars, or Anna just whacking his head, or elsewise being sneaky, like Master Ashtor speaking to his da about Master Oastleigh, or Lady Keladry asking the gods to deal with that lord of Torhelm, and maybe whatever happened with that lord of Tirrsmont, though Master Ashtor thought he’d just tripped himself. And I was thinking that I can’t always be there for Loomis, nor the other littles. Then I had Farmer Hendon happy because I got that fox that’d been in his henhouse, and his coppice woods were right there, so I asked him. I love the staff, and making them was fun too. Da helped me shoe them, and Loomis was keen, so off we went and Anna and his other friends joined in. But I’d no thought it’d come to this, nor anything so soon.” She realised both Sir Balduin’s and Lady Jessamine’s eyebrows were high, and blushed. “I’m sorry if that all came out tangled.”
They both laughed.
“Not so much, Miss Farrier.” Sir Balduin shook his head slightly. “You made a jump or two, but they were good ones, at your age, very good ones. Huh. And you’re not wrong that Lady Keladry took down Tirrsmont as well as calling on the gods to punish Torhelm, but there was nothing sneaky about it. Well, not from her. Things I can’t say, and more I don’t know, but half Corus knows that when Tirrsmont made his complaint to the Council and she denied its truth, she asked His Majesty to truthspell her, and once she’d passed Tirrsmont could be warned and truthspelled himself at the next lie. As you saw today, it makes for clarity. So while I appreciate your distinction about tactics, I’m not sure our Lady Knight does sneaky - she surely didn’t with Joren and his gang, just whacked them silly. And come to think of it, she trains children herself, if Neal wasn’t exaggerating.”
“Not about that.” Lady Jessamine’s gaze came back to Elsa, whose head was whirling as she remembered why Sir Nealan’s name had sounded familiar, and that he’d been one of the rescuers at Rathhausak. “Neal’s a healer as well as a knight, and he’s serving at New Hope, so we get news, and from Yuki as well. His wife, Lady Yukimi. New Hope’s so short-handed that Lady Keladry has all the refugees training at arms, including the children. It caused quite a stir at first, but after what those children have been through they all take it very seriously, and they’ve won soldiers over, I gather.”
“That they have, my lady.” Ashtor was nodding. “Command too, from what my friends tell me. General Vanget’s been heard to praise Lady Keladry’s standing orders and way of doing things more than once, and he’s not free with it. So I knew about the refugee children - I think everyone serving north does - but nothing about these Corus classes. And with all respect, Sir Balduin, Lady Keladry does do what I call sneaky. Do you know about the Battle of Scything Wheat ?”
They did, but Sir Nealan’s account had been dominated by a death Ashtor hadn’t known about, Sir Merric of Hollyrose (another name Elsa recognised), a good friend pushed from the alure by a subordinate who’d been executed for it, so the idea of Lady Keladry suckering the Scanrans into slaughter was new to them, and Sir Balduin slowly nodded.
“Yes, alright. That I can see, Ashtor. No-one expects volleys of griffin-fletched arrows, and she used that.”
“And knew her fifty archers would stand their ground, which I’d bet the Scanrans didn’t expect neither. But the thing is, Sir Balduin, the casualty ratio was ridiculous - just as it was when she went to Rathhausak. Those defeats in detail say sneaky to me, too.”
“Huh. Point, Ashtor. And she did use drugs on the slavers, Neal says, as well as making the night-attack, but that was plain necessity given the odds. Interesting. But even so, Lady Keladry doesn’t like hugger-mugger, if she can help it. What else have you been hearing from the north ?”
There wasn’t much Ashtor hadn’t already told Elsa, and the adults’ talk drifted a little before her da said they’d best be getting back. But Lady Jessamine commended her again in parting, and a few weeks later, on a mercifully dry day, rode out to bring Laniel her two gold nobles, with a length of fine material as a gift. There were also silver nobles for Anna and Elsa, evidence of Sir Balduin’s approval, and Lady Jessamine asked to be shown the forge, settling on a hastily cleaned stool after looking around with what seemed genuine interest while her guards bracketed the doorway.
“I have some more congratulations for you, Miss Farrier, from Mrs Weaver. I sent to her for that fabric, and told her your story. She was very tickled, and says you should call on her if you’re ever in Corus.” Lady Jessamine grinned. “Which would be well worth doing, you know - Lalasa Weaver’s the best dressmaker in Tortall, and clothes Her Majesty.”
“Oh. Well, that’s kind of her, my Lady, and do please return my thanks and respects, but I don’t know when I might be in Corus.”
Elsa looked over at her listening da, who shrugged.
“I’ve no plans, Elsa love, and it’s a costly place to stay. I was glad to leave it, but your ma has a hankering to see her temple friends again, so maybe, one of these years.”
Some questioning by Lady Jessamine drew the story of the elder Farriers flight from Genlith and her da’s struggle to make ends meet while her ma was properly trained.
“I’m not complaining, my Lady. The landlady let me make it up with her horses if I was a day or three late with the rent, and she saw to it we didn’t go hungry, but her prices were dear for all she was the cheapest I could find that was halfway clean. We’ve been much happier here, however with younglings there’s rarely a spare coin to save. Elsa will these, though, as she did Farmer Hendon’s crown.”
“I’m glad to hear it, Master Farrier. Is your rent a burden here ?”
Her da looked down, then back up. “It’s not low, my Lady, but it’s not impossible. It just doesn’t leave much over by the time we’re all fed and clothed, and the Guild paid their tithe.”
“Of course.” No-one was going to say anything about the Lord of Disart’s close-fistedness, but Elsa thought Lady Jessamine might disapprove. “I had no idea you were Genlith-born. Do you get news from there still ?”
Her da looked wary. “Some, my Lady. My parents are dead, and Jen’s, but we’ve younger siblings there.”
“And have they said anything interesting of late ?”
“Only that the lord’s hardly been seen for months, and not just because he’s been at Stone Mountain.”
“No. Was he always so harsh to women ? A calling to midwifery isn’t so strange or rare, surely ?”
“Not at all, my Lady. And yes, as far as I know. Stone Mountain preaches all that Gentle Mother stuff, so he does too. Jen only spoke up because her parents had already agreed she should train, and the Deputy Factor was telling her they needed another scullery maid at the lord’s house, and she was it.”
“Huh. Good for her, then, Master Farrier, and for you. And I’d be glad to see her before I go, if I may.” Lady Jessamine suddenly looked shy. “Sir Balduin and I have hopes.”
“Of course, my Lady, and all luck to you. Children are a blessing.” He grinned at Elsa. “Even if sometimes in disguise.”
Elsa glared, but her heart wasn’t in it, and Lady Jessamine laughed.
“Mama says as much about my brother. And gods know Her Grace of Mindelan must feel that sometimes, with all Lady Keladry’s been doing.” She took a deep breath. “Which is really why I’m here, Miss Farrier. Last summer I became an aunt, to Neal’s and Yuki’s firstborn, a daughter they’ve called Ryokel, partly for Lady Keladry. Her nameday was at Mabon, and my parents went to New Hope. She’s their first grandchild, and they’ve been waiting for ever. I lost two brothers older than Neal in the Immortals’ War, you see.” Elsa did, and her heart lurched. “Anyway, the account Mama gave me when she got back was … well, very odd, and I don’t know that I can explain very well, but all the namings were marked by chimes, and with the harvest offerings one of the animal gods manifested, the Lord Badger, with some kind of message for the Godborn.” Lady Jessamine shrugged. “I know, but don’t ask me. What matters is that although Mama hates Neal and Yuki being at risk there, and now Ryokel, she came away deeply believing Lady Keladry is serving a higher purpose, whatever else she’s doing, and Papa, who is … less moody, says the same. And he suggested strongly that Sir Balduin and I should be alert for, well, what I called ripples. I thought you qualified, Miss Farrier, because you surely echoed Lady Keladry even if wasn’t knowingly, so I’ve written to Papa and Yuki to tell them about you and Miss Anna and that ghastly Oastleigh boy, and I thought you and your parents should know I’d done so, even if nothing comes of it.”
“Oh.” Elsa had no idea what to say, and though she liked the approval felt slightly hollow at the idea of being talked about by strangers. “Well, thank you, my Lady, I suppose. Is there anything I should do, then ?”
“No, except keep up the good work.” Lady Jessamine gave her a wry smile. “But remember the opportunities for women are changing. Some of us don’t know what to do with the chance, but you might, I fancy.” She stood. “Perhaps I could see your Mama now.”
Lady Jessamine was pregnant and, taking a liking to Elsa’s ma, hired her. All was well, and a herb tea helped with morning sickness, but Sir Balduin was as protective as excited so every other week Ma went to Disart to assure them all continued well. With the lure of news Elsa went too, and Lady Jessamine was approving as well as amused that Elsa was already in a fair way to being a competent midwife as well as farrier, telling her that the Lioness was as keen on healing people as on fighting - the one balancing the other. When she’d had a chance to think about it, that made good sense to Elsa, and Master Ashtor agreed.
“Killing men’s a burden, Elsa, as it should be, and though you get used to it it still weighs. And the Lioness has killed plenty, so I can well understand her being better pleased to help than harm.” His look shifted from sombre to thoughtful. “Lady Kel has no Gift, but she does spend what time she can with the children at New Hope, I’m told, and that might be … I don’t know, an ease. As you were to me. But she prays at those shrines every morning, by all accounts. And trains !”
Master Ashtor’s account of a weapon called the glaive and a sort of dance Lady Kel did was not so clear - he’d never seen it, and could only tell Elsa what he knew ; but Lady Jessamine could give a more detailed account, Lady Yukimi having only recently praised Lady Keladry’s pattern-dancing in the warmest terms, asserting that she was a sensei, a true master, and could surely reach the perfect state if she had an able opponent. What that meant Lady Jessamine was unsure, and she’d asked for clarification ; but about the pattern-dancing Lady Yukimi said enough to reveal an accelerating sequence, very slow yet steady movement of the extended glaive increasing in tempo until the weapon was a blur. Asked in turn about that, Master Ashtor thought for a moment, then nodded.
“Makes sense, Elsa. A glaive blade’s thin, but it still weighs more than your staff, and doubly so in extension. The slow movement must build muscle, as well as train it. And … huh, maybe practising slow acceleration, over and over, makes for getting fast faster.” He grinned. “When you need it, I mean. Let’s try it with staves.”
What they learned first was that slow and steady movement with an extended staff was a lot harder than it sounded, but as both were already fit and strong muscle-ache became new strength swiftly, and working through different moves against an imaginary opponent, slowly getting faster, did improve her reactions in genuine sparring. Elsa didn’t quite see it as a dance but realised why others might, and it was fun to find ways for one move to flow most easily into another. The other children weren’t so keen, but that was alright too, and when time was short Elsa could still do useful training by extending and moving her staff as she walked. People stared a bit, but said nothing, and they also saw her stop into the temple more often, Oren letting it be known she came to thank the Great Goddess, as was only right. In truth, though Elsa did of course do that, she was also wondering if what she felt was a divine calling or only her own wishes, and though she felt calmer after praying there was nothing she could call an answer.
The mild winter slipped into an early spring, ploughing and planting starting as swiftly as anyone could remember, and on a trip to Disart Elsa had the unsettling experience of seeing a shackled Richars Oastleigh having to lug buckets of gravel for men filling potholes. His face was blank, and he didn’t seem aware of her, though she’d expected glaring hatred. Her ma saw him too, and when they were well past quietly observed that he was still in shock.
“He has a long way to go, sweeting, but you and Anna have maybe set him on the right road. Don’t let it fret you. Unless Sir Balduin was well out of his reckoning, Richars’ll be gone soon enough. Ostara’s only round the corner.”
Elsa didn’t think it was fretting, exactly, but she did think about it. She hadn’t killed Richars, nor anything save insects and mice except that fox, but she surely had changed his life, and his family’s, however indirectly, and in so doing inflicted suffering. Edrich still spat when he saw her, though he also looked lost, and Master Oastleigh still glared daggers, but she understood they were both afraid, knowing she and her ma were seeing Lady Jessamine regularly. Which was also why Master Oastleigh was making a show of diligence with the early planting, and a little flurry of repairs to anything winter rains might have damaged. And that surely was another benefit, which didn’t erase memories of Richars’s blank face as he trudged but might be a helpful balance all the same.
Ostara didn’t bring the lord back, but the next week brought something altogether else. Her ma was just finishing up with Lady Jessamine, who had begun to show and was laughing about an ecstatic letter she’d had from her own ma filled with advice and instructions that could and in some cases should be roundly ignored, when they heard the horn calling people to assemble. A moment later a slightly dazed-looking Sir Balduin came in, and Lady Jessamine shot to her feet.
“Balduin ? What’s wrong ?”
“Nothing’s wrong here, Jess. Elsewhere … well. A royal messenger came in, with another proclamation and long letters from my father and yours. Excuse me.” He sat, quite heavily. “You’ll want to be sitting too.” When Lady Jessamine was, if fairly vibrating, Sir Balduin took a deep breath. “The short of it is, the Scanrans and a bunch of Tortallan traitors besieged New Hope while the King and Council were there.” Breaths were sucked in sharply. “But Keladry beat them, comprehensively, and King Maggur’s dead. So are most of the traitors - Genlith and Vinson, Heathercove, Groten and his brother, Guisant of Torhelm, Garvey of Runnerspring, and Quinden of Marti’s Hill, all killed fighting with the Scanrans. Runnerspring’s under arrest for high treason, and more will be by now. So the war’s over. Gods. The long of it, though - that’s something else. And for later. We must go and stand with the messenger. Mistress Farrier, might you stay by Lady Jessamine a little, with the shock of all this ?”
Ma nodded, eyes very wide. “Of course, Sir Balduin.”
Following along, Elsa looked at servants’ faces, seeing uncertain joy at such sudden victory so tainted with treason, excitement and relief mingling with deep concern, and couldn’t help wondering what that long version might include. She and her ma stood just behind the balcony where Sir Balduin and Lady Jessamine flanked the royal messenger, and the proclamation did add many things. The siege had lasted five days, with attacks by traitors, giants, a great siege engine, and Scanran warriors all beaten off, and while more than two hundred defenders had died, the Scanrans had lost ten times that many in the final failed assault alone, and more besides ; the crowd collectively winced, and so did Elsa. The courage of the defenders, including many convict soldiers, had been exemplary, and all were strongly commended. Lady Knight Commander Keladry had led the mounted sally that saw King Maggur captured and executed by Queen Barzha Razorwing of the Stone Tree Nation, who had claimed his head in fulfillment of a prophecy by Irnai of Rathhausak that when the stormwings played again above the Greenwoods, the war would end ; the crowd swayed in surprise, people shooting looks of amazement and horror at one another. There was presently a formal truce, while the Scanrans organised negotiators, but they were expected before Beltane and gods willing a full peace treaty would follow. Further, the fiefs of Genlith, Heathercove, and Groten were declared vacant and subject to attainder, as were Runnerspring and Torhelm, pending their lords’ trials, with others who had conspired to feed and arm Scanra. The crowd’s cheer at truce and expected treaty had given way to more uneasy looks, but the messenger added that it did not seem any further lords had been involved, and the great majority of the traitors had already died assaulting New Hope ; the hunt now was for metalworkers and smiths Genlith had suborned into helping to make the killing devices, and the huge siege engine that had been used and destroyed at New Hope.
Fascinated despite her own roiling emotions, Elsa saw the crowd’s mood shift again as they digested Tortallan hands and metal in making the killing devices. Alarm at the scale of the treason faded as disgust and fury bred a simpler satisfaction at the traitors’ fates. And when the messenger declared that New Hope would become a fief, with Lady Knight Commander Keladry ennobled in her own right as its liegelord, a moment of deep silence gave way to fierce cheering he had to wait out before adding that the last thing was the King’s solemn affirmation that the gods had once again been with Lady Keladry, and all should give them thanks in full measure for a great victory.
No-one disagreed, and for a moment Elsa thought they’d all head off to the temple right away, but Sir Balduin raised his voice.
“We surely should give thanks, and we’ll do it here and now.” Lady Jessamine whispered something to him, and after a frowning second he abruptly nodded and turned. “Miss Farrier, my lady says it would be right for you to lead us, and I agree. It’s only a few months since the Great Goddess spoke behind chimes for you, and I think Lady Keladry would approve. Will you?”
Elsa’s heart was in her mouth, but there was no refusing, and Ma’s hand on her shoulder had her walking forward, the messenger standing aside as everyone knelt, even Sir Balduin and Lady Jessamine, his large hand supporting her. For a long moment Elsa’s mind was blank as she saw the sea of faces gazing up at her, before common sense kicked in and she spoke as loudly as she could without shouting.
“I’m still trying to take it all in myself, and I can’t count how many things we’ve to be thankful for, so forgive me if I get muddled.” She saw some heartening grins. “But if I remember right, we’ve eight gods to thank, the ones as have shrines at New Hope and blessed it when they were dedicated - Lord Mithros and the Great Goddess, the Black God, the Dream King, Lady Shakith, Lord Weiryn of the Hunt and his Green Lady, and Lord Sakuyo, the Yamani trickster Lady Knight Commander Keladry grew up worshipping, when her da was … oh, I’m sorry, when His Grace of Mindelan was ambassador.” Naming them as she counted on her fingers, a new thought unfurled, and kept unfurling as she spoke. “What they all did, exactly, I’ve no idea, but we’ve just heard of Lady Shakith’s prophecy through her Chosen, and it surely seems the Black God was busy enough, with the siege. And I don’t know if this’ll make any sense to you, but I can’t help thinking Lord Mithros is the god of war and justice, and this is all about a war that’s brought some justice - Lady Keladry had already killed that ghastly mage who murdered so many children, and stopped all the killing devices, but now she’s killed King Maggur too, who got that mage to do what he did, and a whole bunch of traitors who helped him.” She took a deep breath. “So we need to be thankful for whatever it was those eight gods all did, and to Lord Mithros for guiding them, and to Lady Keladry for being able to do what they all wanted done, and doing it.” More thoughts spilled and tumbled. “And for New Hope - a refugee haven that withstood a siege, and kept the King and Council and all safe. For all those immortals who helped build it, and defend it. For victory, and for war’s end, and the hope of a proper treaty, so as we don’t have another.” She didn’t intend it but she felt her voice harden. “And for the deaths of all those traitors, hoping any others are found swiftly. I remember my Lord saying last Samradh we were all better off without those lords of Tirrsmont and Torhelm, and surely we’re better off without this lot too, however so much treason’s awful.” She gave in to a pressing weight, some words from Master Ashtor spinning in her head. “And this is all muddled because it must be long done by now, but beyond being thankful to all the gods and Lady Keladry for all those things, we should pray for those who had to clear that battlefield. More than two thousandScanrans dead, in one assault ? Buried or burned, that’s … unimaginable. There must be plenty of wounded too, so let us be very thankful to all those we should, gods, immortals, and mortals, and pray for the health and ease of survivors, and a proper treaty soon, and that Lady Keladry was spared by the Black God, seemingly to win this war for us all. So mote it be.”
Elsa suspected she’d mangled it along with her grammar, but the crowd responded strongly, many making the gods’ circle, and chimes rang, pure and sweet, resonating in her skull as she too dropped to her knees. For a second she felt a strange tingle, as if someone caressed her hair, and a vision flowered in her mind of innumerable corpses, whole and in pieces, slashed and scorched, rising to driving pipe music to drag themselves from roadway, moat, and glacis, and endlessly from deep pits, assembling into a great heap, vast and bloated giants shambling after them, with a headless kneeling shape she knew must be King Maggur, before a figure she saw only from behind used a magnificent bow to shoot an arrow that trailed golden fire in the air and set the whole dreadful quarry ablaze in an impossible radiance. Instinctive reaction turned her head away, and the vision faded into a silence broken by Sir Balduin rising, offering a hand first to Lady Jessamine, then with a crooked grin to her.
“Thank you, Miss Farrier - that was well said, with a wisdom beyond your years the gods commended. Think about it, all of you. Make your own devotions, and I’ll be sponsoring a proper offering. Oh, and while I’ve not had a chance to read Father’s letter properly yet, you won’t be surprised to learn King and Council are staying at New Hope for a while - until Beltane, certainly, for these negotiations, so you’re stuck with me. Now back to whatever needs doing, and while I dare say today’ll see more talk than work, and tonight a deal of celebrating, rightly enough, tomorrow’s a full workday as usual.”
Sir Balduin sounded stern but his admonition brought grins and cheers, and the crowd began to scatter, though many seemed to be heading for the inn. Obeying Sir Balduin’s gesture despite feeling dazed, Elsa stepped inside and found herself hugged by her ma.
“That was well said, truly, sweeting. Sweeting ? Are you alright ?”
“I think so, ma. I just … I saw something very odd.”
Seated with a cup of sweet tea that appeared from somewhere, and the mage from the court as well as Sir Balduin and Lady Jessamine listening, Elsa told them what she’d felt and seen, as best she could. Lady Jessamine abruptly nodded.
“Driving pipe music ? That’s the Sorcerer’s Dance. And Neal said … hang on. Balduin, where’s that letter from Papa ?”
He produced it from an inner pocket, and Elsa sipped tea, her ma’s hand a comfort on her shoulder, as Lady Jessamine read swiftly, eyes skimming before exclaiming as her colour deepened. Sir Balduin was reading over her shoulder, face pale. Eventually he looked up, though she read on.
“Gods. Literally. Yours was a true vision, Miss Farrier. Forgive me the unpleasant details, ladies, but His Grace tells us that after the final assault the roadway was worse than any abbatoir. Traitors’ bodies from the first assault, torn and seared by blazebalm and mashed by the giants’ assault, theirbodies, all left for some days, and then the thousands from the final assault, also bombed and burned. Pit traps with stakes that had been filled with corpses too, all gods have pity.” He swallowed, shaking his head, and Elsa swallowed too, the image clear in her mind with a hazy sense of what state those men must have been in to die in such a way. “They’d started trying to clear it but it was going to take days, and the hazard was grim and getting worse, until Lady Keladry had Masters Numair and Harailt clear it with the Sorcerer’s Dance, just as you saw. More than two thousand corpses dancing themselves into a heap. All their … bits, too. Gods. And that arrow you saw Lady Keladry fire was one she’d been given by Lord Weiryn, fletched with sunbird feathers. He gave her the bow too, and she used it with another arrow to destroy the trebuchet.” He shrugged eloquently. “Whatever one of those hits burns, apparently, and the bodies all did, in minutes. What do I know, Miss Farrier ? But clearly the gods approved of what you said verystrongly.”
Lady Jessamine nodded, looking up at last. “Truth, husband.” She gave Elsa a very strange smile. “It seems I shall be mentioning you in letters again, Miss Farrier. And while I’d think it must have been the Great Goddess who blessed you with that vision, Papa says Keladry insists Lord Sakuyo was most involved, and that the dance of corpses, while practical, was also for the Graveyard Hag.” Elsa blinked surprise. “She’s the Black God’s daughter, and dominant in Carthak, but I have no idea why she’s involved in anything here.”
Elsa blinked again. “Well, Lady Keladry got sent back by the Black God, my lady, and I said he’d been busy enough. Maybe his daughter was helping out.”
Lady Jessamine’s smile got stranger. “Well, there’s a thought. But someone is watching you closely, Miss Farrier, so the real question for you is what are you going to do about it ?”
Oastleighs were another matter. Edrich and Richars were steering clear of her and Loomis, which was a boon, but they hadn’t gone away and spat when they saw her, as their father still glared. Mulling it, mindful of Ashtor’s advice about sneaky and still wondering about her own dreams, she asked a puzzled but then amused Farmer Hendon for permission to cut some wood from his coppices, dried lengths in the forge’s warm air, shod the tips with some help from her da, and started teaching Loomis and those of his friends who were interested just how useful even a short staff could be. Her own skills impressed them, and they all knew they had reason enough to learn, so although time had to be squeezed out from chores they worked at it, and she found teaching a useful form of practice. She was also very stern indeed with them about never abusing any weapon, or swinging a staff if you didn’t mean it to do exactly what it would to whatever it hit, just as Master Ashtor had been with her, and backed it with both a demonstration of what a shod staff-tip could do even to oak, and practice in hitting things just as hard as you had to, and no harder. Eggshells and nutshells from the midden were useful, with bones and discarded bits of slate, and as the weeks passed there were kind words from more than one parent, seeming as amused as impressed, that puzzled her ; when her da explained that the younglings heeded her better than they did their parents she harumphed, making him laugh.
As it turned out, her idea had been more timely than she knew, and the day after Longnight she found herself taken by her da to the inn, to be thanked formally - the innkeep’s younger daughter, Anna, having saved her sister Laniel, only fourteen but very full-figured, from a half-drunken Richars Oastleigh who’d jumped her in the stables, with an exact staff to the back of his head. On Oren’s urgent advice a still groggy Richars had been hogtied and carted straight to Disart, with a formal complaint sworn out, and though Master Oastleigh was furious, and said many things, it was out of his hands. Oren and the innkeep were cautious - my Lord was away in Corus, and the case would be heard when the festivities were over by his heir, Sir Balduin - but not sorry.
“To let a lad like Richars get away with that is just storing up grief and trouble. But I’m willing to bet you’ll be called to speak also, Elsa, to explain how a six-year-old could do what Anna did.”
Oren was right, and Elsa found her stomach roiling as they travelled to Disart, but she kept strong for Anna and Laniel, and in the event all was well enough although there were far more people watching than she’d expected. Sir Balduin was a strapping young man, bluntly spoken but not unkind, listening carefully to answers, and if he quizzed Anna and Laniel hard about exactly what had happened, and Elsa just as thoroughly about what she’d done, he seemed pleased by what they said. There was a mage present who tested critical points by truthspell, the first time Elsa had seen such magic worked, and she was pleased by the sharp white flares her own test produced when she affirmed hearing what Oren had thought the Great Goddess’s own voice. Sir Balduin also heard from Oren and Ashtor, about both Oastleigh boys’ as bullies, and from the Steward, Ashtor’s father, about his own father summoning Master Oastleigh. But what really impressed Elsa, and everyone, was his sharp questioning of Master Oastleigh about what he had or hadn’t done to assuage his liegelord’s clear concerns, and at the last a relentless examination of Richars that tripped him in lies a dozen times over, truthspells flaring a lurid red, and left it clear as daylight to all that he had, however drunkenly, intended rape, as violently as he found necessary. He’d even boasted of it to Edrich.
“Well, now.” Sir Balduin steepled strong fingers. “You’re a nasty knave and a bad liar, Richars Oastleigh, and your father’s twice a fool for not having checked you, and derelict to his liegelord besides. You are plainly and confessedly guilty of attempted rape, proven by truthspell, you’re of age to pay for what you do, and by law the penalty’s five years in the mines, as for rape itself. I see no reason to be lenient.” Richars went a dirty white, and so did his father. “Miss Farrier gave you clear warning, as my father gave yours, but you lay in wait in a stableblock with every intent of forcing a virgin. Vile, contemptible, and cowardly. I know the penalties for rape and attempted rape haven’t always been properly enforced, but since the Chamber of the Ordeal exposed Vinson of Genlith five years back they jolly well have been in Corus. And they will be here. You’re also fined one gold noble to replace Miss Laniel’s dress, and another to be paid to her in compensation. That can be done now, but there will be a delay otherwise, because my father will need to confirm your sentence, and he won’t be back for a while yet - King’s Council will be heading to New Hope for Imbolc, to inspect it as a prospective fief, so I’m not expecting him before Ostara.”
There was enough murmuring that Sir Balduin looked around.
“More New Hope watchers, eh ? Join the crowd - it’s an amazing place, by all accounts, and from what I hear very probably will become a new fief, the first since Irismere.”
“Under Lady Keladry, Sir Balduin ?”
“Also very probably, Ashtor. You look pleased.”
“My army friends in the north all sing her praises. And she stopped the killing devices.”
“True.” Sir Balduin smiled crookedly. “I can’t say that didn’t surprise me, but Keladry doing something remarkable doesn’t. She always had a presence. And she can by Mithros joust. Now where was I ? Oh yes, a delay, waiting on my father’s return. And as I can see you running, Richars Oastleigh, like the coward you are, with or without your father’s let, you’ll stay in your cell or labour in chains, as a convict should. As for you, Master Oastleigh, you can take him food, if you want, but prisoners here don’t starve. And you can appeal to my father for clemency, but I’ll bet you get short shrift - raising a lad who’ll try what yours did is no recommendation to anyone, and there’s your own failure too, though that’s between you and your liegelord, for now, at any rate. And I’ll say three more things before we end. One is that you, Edrich Oastleigh, need to mend your ways fast if you’re not to follow your brother to the mines. Look to it, boy, before it’s too late, and you and your wife, Master Oastleigh. Second is my strong commendation of Miss Anna - saw wrong being done, and stopped it, very bravely and efficiently. Good for her. And third is just as strong a commendation of Miss Farrier, not only defending herself and her brother, but learning to do it better and then teaching others how to do the same. Very good for her. And we’re done.”
Amid the bustle as a shaking Richars was escorted out, stunned father and brother following, and a shaken Anna and Laniel were surrounded by family, Elsa found herself summoned by Sir Balduin and a tall, green-eyed woman who’d joined him, introduced as his wife, Lady Jessamine, and invited to take tea with them. Her da wasn’t going to refuse, and Master Ashtor was invited too, accepting with alacrity. Entering the fortified Great House Elsa was distracted by the sheer wealth on display, then by the suits of polished armour flanking the staircase, but the room they were taken to was a private apartment, more comfortably if still very richly furnished. Elsa was as curious as she was nervous, but after tea had been served, in the finest cups she’d ever seen, it was unexpectedly Lady Jessamine who spoke.
“I would add to my husband’s commendations, Miss Farrier, and I wondered if you knew about the women’s self-defence classes in Corus.”
“The what ? I’m sorry, my lady, but I’ve never heard of anything like that.” Curiosity stirred harder. “Classes for all women, my lady ?”
“All who want, yes. And I did, even before Neal jabbered at me about them.” Lady Jessamine smiled. “It’s a long story, but in brief, Sir Nealan of Queenscove is my elder brother, and although he’s older than Lady Keladry he was in the same page-year as her, and she taught her maid Lalasa Isran how to defend herself against men. Then Lalasa, Mrs Weaver now, did just as you did when Master Ashtor taught you, and set about teaching others. The classes run regularly, and some who complete them become teachers themselves, so it spreads.” This smile was both warmer and wryer. “After Lady Keladry bent her ear, Her Majesty made them compulsory for all female palace servants, and as Lady Keladry also bent the Lord Magistrate’s ear, which I would love to have heard, all the sitting magistrates are backing the classes with hard sentences for any man convicted of attacking a woman. It’s one good reason Sir Balduin judged as he did today, so I wondered if you were a … ripple, shall I say ? - a further consequence of what Mrs Weaver and Lady Keladry have done in Corus, especially with the Great Goddess adding her voice to those chimes, as she did at New Hope. But it seems not - which is even more commendable, I think, if you came up with the idea on your own.”
“Oh.” Thoughts spun in Elsa’s mind, and a glance at Master Ashtor gained a fractional nod. “Um … yes and no, my lady. I knew nothing of these classes, but I was thinking of Lady Keladry, talking with Master Ashtor, only it was about being straightforward, like her killing that horrid mage, or me punching Richars, or Anna just whacking his head, or elsewise being sneaky, like Master Ashtor speaking to his da about Master Oastleigh, or Lady Keladry asking the gods to deal with that lord of Torhelm, and maybe whatever happened with that lord of Tirrsmont, though Master Ashtor thought he’d just tripped himself. And I was thinking that I can’t always be there for Loomis, nor the other littles. Then I had Farmer Hendon happy because I got that fox that’d been in his henhouse, and his coppice woods were right there, so I asked him. I love the staff, and making them was fun too. Da helped me shoe them, and Loomis was keen, so off we went and Anna and his other friends joined in. But I’d no thought it’d come to this, nor anything so soon.” She realised both Sir Balduin’s and Lady Jessamine’s eyebrows were high, and blushed. “I’m sorry if that all came out tangled.”
They both laughed.
“Not so much, Miss Farrier.” Sir Balduin shook his head slightly. “You made a jump or two, but they were good ones, at your age, very good ones. Huh. And you’re not wrong that Lady Keladry took down Tirrsmont as well as calling on the gods to punish Torhelm, but there was nothing sneaky about it. Well, not from her. Things I can’t say, and more I don’t know, but half Corus knows that when Tirrsmont made his complaint to the Council and she denied its truth, she asked His Majesty to truthspell her, and once she’d passed Tirrsmont could be warned and truthspelled himself at the next lie. As you saw today, it makes for clarity. So while I appreciate your distinction about tactics, I’m not sure our Lady Knight does sneaky - she surely didn’t with Joren and his gang, just whacked them silly. And come to think of it, she trains children herself, if Neal wasn’t exaggerating.”
“Not about that.” Lady Jessamine’s gaze came back to Elsa, whose head was whirling as she remembered why Sir Nealan’s name had sounded familiar, and that he’d been one of the rescuers at Rathhausak. “Neal’s a healer as well as a knight, and he’s serving at New Hope, so we get news, and from Yuki as well. His wife, Lady Yukimi. New Hope’s so short-handed that Lady Keladry has all the refugees training at arms, including the children. It caused quite a stir at first, but after what those children have been through they all take it very seriously, and they’ve won soldiers over, I gather.”
“That they have, my lady.” Ashtor was nodding. “Command too, from what my friends tell me. General Vanget’s been heard to praise Lady Keladry’s standing orders and way of doing things more than once, and he’s not free with it. So I knew about the refugee children - I think everyone serving north does - but nothing about these Corus classes. And with all respect, Sir Balduin, Lady Keladry does do what I call sneaky. Do you know about the Battle of Scything Wheat ?”
They did, but Sir Nealan’s account had been dominated by a death Ashtor hadn’t known about, Sir Merric of Hollyrose (another name Elsa recognised), a good friend pushed from the alure by a subordinate who’d been executed for it, so the idea of Lady Keladry suckering the Scanrans into slaughter was new to them, and Sir Balduin slowly nodded.
“Yes, alright. That I can see, Ashtor. No-one expects volleys of griffin-fletched arrows, and she used that.”
“And knew her fifty archers would stand their ground, which I’d bet the Scanrans didn’t expect neither. But the thing is, Sir Balduin, the casualty ratio was ridiculous - just as it was when she went to Rathhausak. Those defeats in detail say sneaky to me, too.”
“Huh. Point, Ashtor. And she did use drugs on the slavers, Neal says, as well as making the night-attack, but that was plain necessity given the odds. Interesting. But even so, Lady Keladry doesn’t like hugger-mugger, if she can help it. What else have you been hearing from the north ?”
There wasn’t much Ashtor hadn’t already told Elsa, and the adults’ talk drifted a little before her da said they’d best be getting back. But Lady Jessamine commended her again in parting, and a few weeks later, on a mercifully dry day, rode out to bring Laniel her two gold nobles, with a length of fine material as a gift. There were also silver nobles for Anna and Elsa, evidence of Sir Balduin’s approval, and Lady Jessamine asked to be shown the forge, settling on a hastily cleaned stool after looking around with what seemed genuine interest while her guards bracketed the doorway.
“I have some more congratulations for you, Miss Farrier, from Mrs Weaver. I sent to her for that fabric, and told her your story. She was very tickled, and says you should call on her if you’re ever in Corus.” Lady Jessamine grinned. “Which would be well worth doing, you know - Lalasa Weaver’s the best dressmaker in Tortall, and clothes Her Majesty.”
“Oh. Well, that’s kind of her, my Lady, and do please return my thanks and respects, but I don’t know when I might be in Corus.”
Elsa looked over at her listening da, who shrugged.
“I’ve no plans, Elsa love, and it’s a costly place to stay. I was glad to leave it, but your ma has a hankering to see her temple friends again, so maybe, one of these years.”
Some questioning by Lady Jessamine drew the story of the elder Farriers flight from Genlith and her da’s struggle to make ends meet while her ma was properly trained.
“I’m not complaining, my Lady. The landlady let me make it up with her horses if I was a day or three late with the rent, and she saw to it we didn’t go hungry, but her prices were dear for all she was the cheapest I could find that was halfway clean. We’ve been much happier here, however with younglings there’s rarely a spare coin to save. Elsa will these, though, as she did Farmer Hendon’s crown.”
“I’m glad to hear it, Master Farrier. Is your rent a burden here ?”
Her da looked down, then back up. “It’s not low, my Lady, but it’s not impossible. It just doesn’t leave much over by the time we’re all fed and clothed, and the Guild paid their tithe.”
“Of course.” No-one was going to say anything about the Lord of Disart’s close-fistedness, but Elsa thought Lady Jessamine might disapprove. “I had no idea you were Genlith-born. Do you get news from there still ?”
Her da looked wary. “Some, my Lady. My parents are dead, and Jen’s, but we’ve younger siblings there.”
“And have they said anything interesting of late ?”
“Only that the lord’s hardly been seen for months, and not just because he’s been at Stone Mountain.”
“No. Was he always so harsh to women ? A calling to midwifery isn’t so strange or rare, surely ?”
“Not at all, my Lady. And yes, as far as I know. Stone Mountain preaches all that Gentle Mother stuff, so he does too. Jen only spoke up because her parents had already agreed she should train, and the Deputy Factor was telling her they needed another scullery maid at the lord’s house, and she was it.”
“Huh. Good for her, then, Master Farrier, and for you. And I’d be glad to see her before I go, if I may.” Lady Jessamine suddenly looked shy. “Sir Balduin and I have hopes.”
“Of course, my Lady, and all luck to you. Children are a blessing.” He grinned at Elsa. “Even if sometimes in disguise.”
Elsa glared, but her heart wasn’t in it, and Lady Jessamine laughed.
“Mama says as much about my brother. And gods know Her Grace of Mindelan must feel that sometimes, with all Lady Keladry’s been doing.” She took a deep breath. “Which is really why I’m here, Miss Farrier. Last summer I became an aunt, to Neal’s and Yuki’s firstborn, a daughter they’ve called Ryokel, partly for Lady Keladry. Her nameday was at Mabon, and my parents went to New Hope. She’s their first grandchild, and they’ve been waiting for ever. I lost two brothers older than Neal in the Immortals’ War, you see.” Elsa did, and her heart lurched. “Anyway, the account Mama gave me when she got back was … well, very odd, and I don’t know that I can explain very well, but all the namings were marked by chimes, and with the harvest offerings one of the animal gods manifested, the Lord Badger, with some kind of message for the Godborn.” Lady Jessamine shrugged. “I know, but don’t ask me. What matters is that although Mama hates Neal and Yuki being at risk there, and now Ryokel, she came away deeply believing Lady Keladry is serving a higher purpose, whatever else she’s doing, and Papa, who is … less moody, says the same. And he suggested strongly that Sir Balduin and I should be alert for, well, what I called ripples. I thought you qualified, Miss Farrier, because you surely echoed Lady Keladry even if wasn’t knowingly, so I’ve written to Papa and Yuki to tell them about you and Miss Anna and that ghastly Oastleigh boy, and I thought you and your parents should know I’d done so, even if nothing comes of it.”
“Oh.” Elsa had no idea what to say, and though she liked the approval felt slightly hollow at the idea of being talked about by strangers. “Well, thank you, my Lady, I suppose. Is there anything I should do, then ?”
“No, except keep up the good work.” Lady Jessamine gave her a wry smile. “But remember the opportunities for women are changing. Some of us don’t know what to do with the chance, but you might, I fancy.” She stood. “Perhaps I could see your Mama now.”
Lady Jessamine was pregnant and, taking a liking to Elsa’s ma, hired her. All was well, and a herb tea helped with morning sickness, but Sir Balduin was as protective as excited so every other week Ma went to Disart to assure them all continued well. With the lure of news Elsa went too, and Lady Jessamine was approving as well as amused that Elsa was already in a fair way to being a competent midwife as well as farrier, telling her that the Lioness was as keen on healing people as on fighting - the one balancing the other. When she’d had a chance to think about it, that made good sense to Elsa, and Master Ashtor agreed.
“Killing men’s a burden, Elsa, as it should be, and though you get used to it it still weighs. And the Lioness has killed plenty, so I can well understand her being better pleased to help than harm.” His look shifted from sombre to thoughtful. “Lady Kel has no Gift, but she does spend what time she can with the children at New Hope, I’m told, and that might be … I don’t know, an ease. As you were to me. But she prays at those shrines every morning, by all accounts. And trains !”
Master Ashtor’s account of a weapon called the glaive and a sort of dance Lady Kel did was not so clear - he’d never seen it, and could only tell Elsa what he knew ; but Lady Jessamine could give a more detailed account, Lady Yukimi having only recently praised Lady Keladry’s pattern-dancing in the warmest terms, asserting that she was a sensei, a true master, and could surely reach the perfect state if she had an able opponent. What that meant Lady Jessamine was unsure, and she’d asked for clarification ; but about the pattern-dancing Lady Yukimi said enough to reveal an accelerating sequence, very slow yet steady movement of the extended glaive increasing in tempo until the weapon was a blur. Asked in turn about that, Master Ashtor thought for a moment, then nodded.
“Makes sense, Elsa. A glaive blade’s thin, but it still weighs more than your staff, and doubly so in extension. The slow movement must build muscle, as well as train it. And … huh, maybe practising slow acceleration, over and over, makes for getting fast faster.” He grinned. “When you need it, I mean. Let’s try it with staves.”
What they learned first was that slow and steady movement with an extended staff was a lot harder than it sounded, but as both were already fit and strong muscle-ache became new strength swiftly, and working through different moves against an imaginary opponent, slowly getting faster, did improve her reactions in genuine sparring. Elsa didn’t quite see it as a dance but realised why others might, and it was fun to find ways for one move to flow most easily into another. The other children weren’t so keen, but that was alright too, and when time was short Elsa could still do useful training by extending and moving her staff as she walked. People stared a bit, but said nothing, and they also saw her stop into the temple more often, Oren letting it be known she came to thank the Great Goddess, as was only right. In truth, though Elsa did of course do that, she was also wondering if what she felt was a divine calling or only her own wishes, and though she felt calmer after praying there was nothing she could call an answer.
The mild winter slipped into an early spring, ploughing and planting starting as swiftly as anyone could remember, and on a trip to Disart Elsa had the unsettling experience of seeing a shackled Richars Oastleigh having to lug buckets of gravel for men filling potholes. His face was blank, and he didn’t seem aware of her, though she’d expected glaring hatred. Her ma saw him too, and when they were well past quietly observed that he was still in shock.
“He has a long way to go, sweeting, but you and Anna have maybe set him on the right road. Don’t let it fret you. Unless Sir Balduin was well out of his reckoning, Richars’ll be gone soon enough. Ostara’s only round the corner.”
Elsa didn’t think it was fretting, exactly, but she did think about it. She hadn’t killed Richars, nor anything save insects and mice except that fox, but she surely had changed his life, and his family’s, however indirectly, and in so doing inflicted suffering. Edrich still spat when he saw her, though he also looked lost, and Master Oastleigh still glared daggers, but she understood they were both afraid, knowing she and her ma were seeing Lady Jessamine regularly. Which was also why Master Oastleigh was making a show of diligence with the early planting, and a little flurry of repairs to anything winter rains might have damaged. And that surely was another benefit, which didn’t erase memories of Richars’s blank face as he trudged but might be a helpful balance all the same.
Ostara didn’t bring the lord back, but the next week brought something altogether else. Her ma was just finishing up with Lady Jessamine, who had begun to show and was laughing about an ecstatic letter she’d had from her own ma filled with advice and instructions that could and in some cases should be roundly ignored, when they heard the horn calling people to assemble. A moment later a slightly dazed-looking Sir Balduin came in, and Lady Jessamine shot to her feet.
“Balduin ? What’s wrong ?”
“Nothing’s wrong here, Jess. Elsewhere … well. A royal messenger came in, with another proclamation and long letters from my father and yours. Excuse me.” He sat, quite heavily. “You’ll want to be sitting too.” When Lady Jessamine was, if fairly vibrating, Sir Balduin took a deep breath. “The short of it is, the Scanrans and a bunch of Tortallan traitors besieged New Hope while the King and Council were there.” Breaths were sucked in sharply. “But Keladry beat them, comprehensively, and King Maggur’s dead. So are most of the traitors - Genlith and Vinson, Heathercove, Groten and his brother, Guisant of Torhelm, Garvey of Runnerspring, and Quinden of Marti’s Hill, all killed fighting with the Scanrans. Runnerspring’s under arrest for high treason, and more will be by now. So the war’s over. Gods. The long of it, though - that’s something else. And for later. We must go and stand with the messenger. Mistress Farrier, might you stay by Lady Jessamine a little, with the shock of all this ?”
Ma nodded, eyes very wide. “Of course, Sir Balduin.”
Following along, Elsa looked at servants’ faces, seeing uncertain joy at such sudden victory so tainted with treason, excitement and relief mingling with deep concern, and couldn’t help wondering what that long version might include. She and her ma stood just behind the balcony where Sir Balduin and Lady Jessamine flanked the royal messenger, and the proclamation did add many things. The siege had lasted five days, with attacks by traitors, giants, a great siege engine, and Scanran warriors all beaten off, and while more than two hundred defenders had died, the Scanrans had lost ten times that many in the final failed assault alone, and more besides ; the crowd collectively winced, and so did Elsa. The courage of the defenders, including many convict soldiers, had been exemplary, and all were strongly commended. Lady Knight Commander Keladry had led the mounted sally that saw King Maggur captured and executed by Queen Barzha Razorwing of the Stone Tree Nation, who had claimed his head in fulfillment of a prophecy by Irnai of Rathhausak that when the stormwings played again above the Greenwoods, the war would end ; the crowd swayed in surprise, people shooting looks of amazement and horror at one another. There was presently a formal truce, while the Scanrans organised negotiators, but they were expected before Beltane and gods willing a full peace treaty would follow. Further, the fiefs of Genlith, Heathercove, and Groten were declared vacant and subject to attainder, as were Runnerspring and Torhelm, pending their lords’ trials, with others who had conspired to feed and arm Scanra. The crowd’s cheer at truce and expected treaty had given way to more uneasy looks, but the messenger added that it did not seem any further lords had been involved, and the great majority of the traitors had already died assaulting New Hope ; the hunt now was for metalworkers and smiths Genlith had suborned into helping to make the killing devices, and the huge siege engine that had been used and destroyed at New Hope.
Fascinated despite her own roiling emotions, Elsa saw the crowd’s mood shift again as they digested Tortallan hands and metal in making the killing devices. Alarm at the scale of the treason faded as disgust and fury bred a simpler satisfaction at the traitors’ fates. And when the messenger declared that New Hope would become a fief, with Lady Knight Commander Keladry ennobled in her own right as its liegelord, a moment of deep silence gave way to fierce cheering he had to wait out before adding that the last thing was the King’s solemn affirmation that the gods had once again been with Lady Keladry, and all should give them thanks in full measure for a great victory.
No-one disagreed, and for a moment Elsa thought they’d all head off to the temple right away, but Sir Balduin raised his voice.
“We surely should give thanks, and we’ll do it here and now.” Lady Jessamine whispered something to him, and after a frowning second he abruptly nodded and turned. “Miss Farrier, my lady says it would be right for you to lead us, and I agree. It’s only a few months since the Great Goddess spoke behind chimes for you, and I think Lady Keladry would approve. Will you?”
Elsa’s heart was in her mouth, but there was no refusing, and Ma’s hand on her shoulder had her walking forward, the messenger standing aside as everyone knelt, even Sir Balduin and Lady Jessamine, his large hand supporting her. For a long moment Elsa’s mind was blank as she saw the sea of faces gazing up at her, before common sense kicked in and she spoke as loudly as she could without shouting.
“I’m still trying to take it all in myself, and I can’t count how many things we’ve to be thankful for, so forgive me if I get muddled.” She saw some heartening grins. “But if I remember right, we’ve eight gods to thank, the ones as have shrines at New Hope and blessed it when they were dedicated - Lord Mithros and the Great Goddess, the Black God, the Dream King, Lady Shakith, Lord Weiryn of the Hunt and his Green Lady, and Lord Sakuyo, the Yamani trickster Lady Knight Commander Keladry grew up worshipping, when her da was … oh, I’m sorry, when His Grace of Mindelan was ambassador.” Naming them as she counted on her fingers, a new thought unfurled, and kept unfurling as she spoke. “What they all did, exactly, I’ve no idea, but we’ve just heard of Lady Shakith’s prophecy through her Chosen, and it surely seems the Black God was busy enough, with the siege. And I don’t know if this’ll make any sense to you, but I can’t help thinking Lord Mithros is the god of war and justice, and this is all about a war that’s brought some justice - Lady Keladry had already killed that ghastly mage who murdered so many children, and stopped all the killing devices, but now she’s killed King Maggur too, who got that mage to do what he did, and a whole bunch of traitors who helped him.” She took a deep breath. “So we need to be thankful for whatever it was those eight gods all did, and to Lord Mithros for guiding them, and to Lady Keladry for being able to do what they all wanted done, and doing it.” More thoughts spilled and tumbled. “And for New Hope - a refugee haven that withstood a siege, and kept the King and Council and all safe. For all those immortals who helped build it, and defend it. For victory, and for war’s end, and the hope of a proper treaty, so as we don’t have another.” She didn’t intend it but she felt her voice harden. “And for the deaths of all those traitors, hoping any others are found swiftly. I remember my Lord saying last Samradh we were all better off without those lords of Tirrsmont and Torhelm, and surely we’re better off without this lot too, however so much treason’s awful.” She gave in to a pressing weight, some words from Master Ashtor spinning in her head. “And this is all muddled because it must be long done by now, but beyond being thankful to all the gods and Lady Keladry for all those things, we should pray for those who had to clear that battlefield. More than two thousandScanrans dead, in one assault ? Buried or burned, that’s … unimaginable. There must be plenty of wounded too, so let us be very thankful to all those we should, gods, immortals, and mortals, and pray for the health and ease of survivors, and a proper treaty soon, and that Lady Keladry was spared by the Black God, seemingly to win this war for us all. So mote it be.”
Elsa suspected she’d mangled it along with her grammar, but the crowd responded strongly, many making the gods’ circle, and chimes rang, pure and sweet, resonating in her skull as she too dropped to her knees. For a second she felt a strange tingle, as if someone caressed her hair, and a vision flowered in her mind of innumerable corpses, whole and in pieces, slashed and scorched, rising to driving pipe music to drag themselves from roadway, moat, and glacis, and endlessly from deep pits, assembling into a great heap, vast and bloated giants shambling after them, with a headless kneeling shape she knew must be King Maggur, before a figure she saw only from behind used a magnificent bow to shoot an arrow that trailed golden fire in the air and set the whole dreadful quarry ablaze in an impossible radiance. Instinctive reaction turned her head away, and the vision faded into a silence broken by Sir Balduin rising, offering a hand first to Lady Jessamine, then with a crooked grin to her.
“Thank you, Miss Farrier - that was well said, with a wisdom beyond your years the gods commended. Think about it, all of you. Make your own devotions, and I’ll be sponsoring a proper offering. Oh, and while I’ve not had a chance to read Father’s letter properly yet, you won’t be surprised to learn King and Council are staying at New Hope for a while - until Beltane, certainly, for these negotiations, so you’re stuck with me. Now back to whatever needs doing, and while I dare say today’ll see more talk than work, and tonight a deal of celebrating, rightly enough, tomorrow’s a full workday as usual.”
Sir Balduin sounded stern but his admonition brought grins and cheers, and the crowd began to scatter, though many seemed to be heading for the inn. Obeying Sir Balduin’s gesture despite feeling dazed, Elsa stepped inside and found herself hugged by her ma.
“That was well said, truly, sweeting. Sweeting ? Are you alright ?”
“I think so, ma. I just … I saw something very odd.”
Seated with a cup of sweet tea that appeared from somewhere, and the mage from the court as well as Sir Balduin and Lady Jessamine listening, Elsa told them what she’d felt and seen, as best she could. Lady Jessamine abruptly nodded.
“Driving pipe music ? That’s the Sorcerer’s Dance. And Neal said … hang on. Balduin, where’s that letter from Papa ?”
He produced it from an inner pocket, and Elsa sipped tea, her ma’s hand a comfort on her shoulder, as Lady Jessamine read swiftly, eyes skimming before exclaiming as her colour deepened. Sir Balduin was reading over her shoulder, face pale. Eventually he looked up, though she read on.
“Gods. Literally. Yours was a true vision, Miss Farrier. Forgive me the unpleasant details, ladies, but His Grace tells us that after the final assault the roadway was worse than any abbatoir. Traitors’ bodies from the first assault, torn and seared by blazebalm and mashed by the giants’ assault, theirbodies, all left for some days, and then the thousands from the final assault, also bombed and burned. Pit traps with stakes that had been filled with corpses too, all gods have pity.” He swallowed, shaking his head, and Elsa swallowed too, the image clear in her mind with a hazy sense of what state those men must have been in to die in such a way. “They’d started trying to clear it but it was going to take days, and the hazard was grim and getting worse, until Lady Keladry had Masters Numair and Harailt clear it with the Sorcerer’s Dance, just as you saw. More than two thousand corpses dancing themselves into a heap. All their … bits, too. Gods. And that arrow you saw Lady Keladry fire was one she’d been given by Lord Weiryn, fletched with sunbird feathers. He gave her the bow too, and she used it with another arrow to destroy the trebuchet.” He shrugged eloquently. “Whatever one of those hits burns, apparently, and the bodies all did, in minutes. What do I know, Miss Farrier ? But clearly the gods approved of what you said verystrongly.”
Lady Jessamine nodded, looking up at last. “Truth, husband.” She gave Elsa a very strange smile. “It seems I shall be mentioning you in letters again, Miss Farrier. And while I’d think it must have been the Great Goddess who blessed you with that vision, Papa says Keladry insists Lord Sakuyo was most involved, and that the dance of corpses, while practical, was also for the Graveyard Hag.” Elsa blinked surprise. “She’s the Black God’s daughter, and dominant in Carthak, but I have no idea why she’s involved in anything here.”
Elsa blinked again. “Well, Lady Keladry got sent back by the Black God, my lady, and I said he’d been busy enough. Maybe his daughter was helping out.”
Lady Jessamine’s smile got stranger. “Well, there’s a thought. But someone is watching you closely, Miss Farrier, so the real question for you is what are you going to do about it ?”