Cherryh, C J - Fortress 02- Fortress of Eagles (51 page)

That thought had certainly been with them during the ride up from the gates. The thought that had occurred to him during dinner was no more comfortable. “Might Bryn have been forewarned? Might he have seen Ryssand’s letter, and known we were coming? And if he, then did Edwyll, all along, know whom he was fighting? Or why, outside of prudence or loyalty to the king, did the
rest
of the lords hold back from supporting Edwyll? Why were they not on those rooftops?”

He had sharp looks from all three captains, and he doubted it was the first question they had had inside themselves.

“I’d look careful at Drumman,” Uwen said, “who I think was closest to goin’ wi’ the rebels. Drumman knew what was toward, didn’t he, or the lady wouldn’t be shelterin’ there from the time Edwyll done what he done? I think the viceroy spilled what he knew to somebody like Lord Cuthan. Maybe Edwyll didn’t believe anything the viceroy said, and took the courtyard wi’ the notion to Cherryh, C J - Fortress 02- Fortress of Eagles hold it and see what terms might be, but the others was again’ it.

’At’s my humble guess.”

Drumman had sheltered Crissand’s mother. But at the last Drumman had come to the stable-court to support the king’s forces, leaving only Crissand to stand by his father once the rumor of Mauryl’s heir had run the streets.
Lord Sihhë
! the people had shouted—and had the whole town foreknown and awaited his coming, while Edwyll attempted to bar him from the citadel?

Tristen listened, and asked himself had Edwyll possibly done what he had done knowingly? Had Edwyll opposed him, or had Edwyll intended to hand over the citadel if the rumors of his appointment were true? Crissand had commanded that the defense in the South Court go on, having had no such instruction, quite clearly; and held and held while he waited for his father to send word down from the apartment where he had gone… had continued the defense while even Drumman had joined the other side and while they had shouted through the gate, clearly naming who offered a cessation of hostilities and a way out without more deaths.

But no word came from the earl his father. So Crissand held, and held, not knowing Edwyll was dead, a tragic waste of lives almost equal to what the viceroy had done.

Tristen turned a somber look toward Uwen. “If there was an ill-working,” he said to Uwen, “it did its worst that night.”

But the thought that Edwyll might have fought against him knowingly, when the son professed loyalty more strongly, more extravagantly than Cuthan, whom he strongly suspected. Had Crissand, the brave, the loyal man—had Crissand lied to him so Cherryh, C J - Fortress 02- Fortress of Eagles deeply, so callously?

There was one ground where truth shone through— and in pain he reached out on the instant, seeking truth, caring nothing for caution, and had an impression exactly where Crissand was. More, he suddenly had Crissand’s attention. A cup had shattered, there, not here. Crissand had leapt up, caught his balance.

—Have you lied to me?
he asked Crissand directly, while the gray
space roiled with cloud as bitter cold as what spat sleet at the
windows.
Have you lied?

—My lord!
the thought came back, and Crissand reached wildly for
substance and direction, lost, and afraid, not accustomed to this
place, and snatched into it without warning.
My lord, wherein

should you say I lied? Where have I sinned against you?

He found not guile, no guilt. He saw Crissand, a shadowy form in
the mist and the roiling cloud. He willed himself closer and was
there, and saw Crissand’s distress face-to-face.

—Your father told you nothing of his dealings. He sent your

mother to Drumman and prepared to stand me off… did he not?

Did he not, sir? And how many others stood with him?

Fear washed back at him, a tide through the gray space. Crissand
attempted flight, but had no skill at all… had never ventured here,
clearly so. To have found otherwise would have raised other
questions, of wizardry, and theft and knowledge. And he meant to
know the answers.

—Mauryl’s letters are gone from the archive and the master

Cherryh, C J - Fortress 02- Fortress of Eagles

archivist is dead, the other fled. Do you know aught of that, sir, or

did your father?

“M’lord?” Uwen asked.

—Do you know, sir?

Fear crashed around him, palpable as the winds. —
My lord
,
Crissand said, and tried to leave his presence, but he did not let
Crissand go.

—Why did your father act? Why did he move when he did? Dare

you call it chance?

—To join Elwynor, Crissand said, to join us with Elwynor was all

his aim. Nothing of the archive, nothing of the archivist or of

murder, or of rebellion against you, my lord, as I live!

—For all of a day you held the citadel, dispatched guards to the

gate and knew the content of the king’s message. Did you then not

know?

—I had no orders else!
Crissand protested.
I was to hold the

courtyard, I was to hold, and nothing more, my lord. My father

had a message…

“M’lord?”

Tears shattered the firelight insofar as he was aware of his own body. He would not look at Uwen.

—Whence a message?

—Out of Elwynor. I think it was out of Elwynor, my lord.

Cherryh, C J - Fortress 02- Fortress of Eagles

—Run
, he said to Crissand, and the clouds of the gray space were
leaden as storm.
Run, Meiden, if you are guilty. Run where you

choose and as far from me as you can.

Crissand was gone on the instant, fled away of his own volition, but not in fear, now.

Was it anger? Was it a sense of betrayal matching his own?

Captain Anwyll had leaned forward in his chair. Uwen had cautioned him with a hand.

“I think,” Tristen said, catching a large breath, and trying to pretend that nothing untoward had just passed, “I think that Cuthan is a wise man where it comes to his own safety. But if he saw that message, I think Edwyll had no word of it at all until he read the king’s message and knew what Cuthan had done to him.” Anger was growing and growing in him, that a man had sat at his table and been so pleasant, and so false. “Ness and his friend, down at the gate, had
no
forewarning. And Edwyll posted them. The town knew nothing.
Cuthan
knew and warned the rest of the earls, if he warned them at all, only
after
Edwyll had committed treason. I said, did I not… if Cuthan doesn’t lead, someone does. But Cuthan did not lead. And he made the others afraid.”

“’At’s possible,” Uwen said. “’At’s well possible. Cuthan never come to the stable yard. Bein’ an old man makes it hard for ’im, but it is to ask why there was only Edwyll sittin’ up here wi’ armed men. If Edwyll was expectin’ Elwynim to his relief, they’re late.”

“Tasmôrden is laying siege to the capital of Elwynor. It was Cherryh, C J - Fortress 02- Fortress of Eagles Cefwyn’s attention he wanted southerly at this moment, and long after. But it took more than Edwyll. And Amefel has long dealt with both sides. Tell Syllan take two men of the Dragons, go after Drumman and Azant. Bring them back.” He had a clear notion, now, where Crissand was… coatless, in the street, in the snow, striding straight for the stable-court gate. “Lusin.”

“M’lord.”

“Go yourself, with Tawwys. Hold the lord of Meiden at the stable-court gate. And bring him a warm cloak.”

Cherryh, C J - Fortress 02- Fortress of Eagles
CHAPTER 7

«
^
»

Have great care,” Cefwyn said to Cevulirn.

“Have great care yourself, Your Majesty.” It was night. The lord of the Ivanim had his guards outside the royal apartment and his horse and weapons were in the hands of loyal men. “Your Majesty’s welfare is my concern.”

“I am wary.” He offered an embrace, and unaccustomed as it was, Cevulirn accepted it, a body stiff with mail and leather and years in the saddle. “I shall miss you. I shall miss you this winter.
Thank
you for my lady’s sake. We will remember this. And we will see you in the spring.”

“My lord king.” Cevulirn took his cloak from the man who had brought it from his rooms, that and no more. Royal guards stood at Cevulirn’s door, upstairs, protecting it against any other intrusion.

Efanor had been closeted with the Holy Father for hours, seeking to secure his support.

“Fare well,” Cefwyn said, and stood watching as Cevulirn gathered up his guard and walked out the door, leaving a vacancy in the court, a bitterly regretted one.

Ninévrisë might have wished to come downstairs to this parting. He had set guards there, too, and advised her against it, at a time when Cherryh, C J - Fortress 02- Fortress of Eagles news was rushing through late gatherings and convoking councils and speeding by quiet messengers wherever the king’s enemies and friends might gather. Artisane’s whereabouts was a question, with her brother lying dead, but he had ascertained it was not near Ninévrisë, and that was sufficient.

Now he parted with another friend, and went back to his desk to write a longer missive to his bride, and a request to attend in court tomorrow. There would be questions, quieter ones, he trusted.

He heard horses come and go on the cobbles outside, heard sleet against the window. It was a hard night to be on the road, and he counted nothing safe until he knew Cevulirn and his well-armed veterans were outside the gates.

“My lord king.” Annas interrupted his message-writing. The pen had dried in mid-thought.
Public acceptance
, he had been about to write, before he forgot his phrase. But the ink failed and made only a sketchy line. “My lord king, Lord Corswyndam is on his way, and requests audience.”

He could deny the lord of Ryssand. He could always arrest Ryssand on no more than his displeasure. But he had to ask himself whether he would have a kingdom the following day, and how many of the northern lords he was prepared to arrest. He had executed Heryn Aswydd, deposed and banished his sister Orien, but as duchess of Amefel she had inherited from her brother a dearth of sworn men.

Corswyndam, on the other hand, had an army and a bitter grievance, which for cold policy he would almost undoubtedly choose to direct at Ivanor.

But neither could the king of Ylesuin have two of his provinces at Cherryh, C J - Fortress 02- Fortress of Eagles war with one another.

“I will see him in hall,” he said, and capped the ink. “Advise Idrys.”

Put on at least a better coat? The Marhanen red, embroidered with gold, perhaps.

No. He sent a page for the bezainted leather, and his sword, and had put both on by the time Annas reported Corswyndam downstairs, and Prichwarrin and several other of the lords, with more possible.

“Where is Idrys?” he asked Annas.

“We’ve not reached him. I beg Your Majesty wait.”

It was too delicate a balance. “Damn him,” he said, though he suspected Idrys’ absence meant Idrys was at work somewhere urgently and on his business. “This can’t wait.”

He gathered up his guards, a sufficient number of them. A page ran up, bearing the circlet crown in anxious hands… Annas’ orders, he was certain; and he put it on, then led on down the hall, thump and clatter of guards and weapons in halls used to bloody scenes, down a stairs reputed haunted by his grandfather’s deeds and under candle-sconces his grandfather had ordered filled day and night, to allow no dark for ghosts.

He went down to the throne room, where a gathering of pale-faced minor courtiers bowed like grass in a wind, and into a hall where murmuring knots of Ylesuin’s nobility cleared his unexpected path from the main doors down to the dais. There his guards clattered into order on either side of the steps and behind him, grounded their weapons with a thump, and settled the angry Majesty of Ylesuin to face his barons.

Cherryh, C J - Fortress 02- Fortress of Eagles Corswyndam centered himself in front of the dais and stared up at him. “My son, my heir, is
dead
, my lord king, and the foreign—”

“Do not say it! Do not say it, Ryssand! You are ill informed, and your son was fatally ill-informed. If you think I will not have another lord of Ryssand, you are mistaken, and if you have thought me soft,
you are mistaken
! Pigs will bed on parchment, do you understand? Ribbons and seals and all,
pigs
will bed on it! Do not press me further.”

“Your Majesty!” Ryssand said, white-faced, tear-streaked. “My lord king, you are advised by traitors and practiced on by sorcery!”

“Dare you say!”

Murandys came to stand beside Ryssand. So did Nelefreíssan.

“Here is the north, lord king! Here is the north of Ylesuin. And what says Your Majesty now?”

One of the great doors cracked and closed. Efanor had come in, but no one saw. Idrys followed.
There
were the wandered and the strayed. And Idrys came around the periphery of the room, silently, as his wont. Efanor, who just came from the Quinaltine, gave him a confident nod, a triumph over doubt, and Cefwyn drew a whole breath.

“I say you are perilously close to treason, and a member of your house has drawn weapons in my presence.”

“How could my son prevail against Your Majesty? Your presence disarmed him! Ivanor no less than
murdered
my son, and the petition for the Holy Quinalt is cast to the pigs, Your Majesty? Your Majesty has listened to the malign influences, to influences that Cherryh, C J - Fortress 02- Fortress of Eagles despise the gods, that practice black sorcery, until loyal men are butchered in the halls in the royal presence and
sorcery
insinuates itself into the highest councils in the land!”