Crown of Renewal (Legend of Paksenarrion) (64 page)

“My lord Duke,” the rider said, barely able to talk. “King’s word.” He dismounted and quickly removed a velvet pouch from the near saddlebag and handed it to Arcolin.

“Come,” Arcolin said. “We’ll see to your horse.” Cracolnya had already called one of his soldiers over, and he led the horse away. The courier slapped at his dusty clothes as he followed Arcolin into the tent.

Cracolnya dipped water into a mug and handed it to the courier while Arcolin pulled out the message tube, untied it, pulled out the rolled message, and untied the ribbons around that. He expected the news to be bad—why else send a royal courier here at top speed rather than using Fox Company’s own courier?

Mikeli had written in haste but with great formality. He wanted his Constable back in the kingdom, with his troops, to defend Tsaia’s western boundary from invasion by Finthans and part of the south boundary from invasion by gnomes. Gnomes? That made no sense … Why would they—

“Trouble?” Cracolnya said, glancing at him.

“Always,” Arcolin said. “Your cohort’s ready to march, isn’t it?”

“We can start tomorrow at dawn,” Cracolnya said.

“How about tonight?”

Cracolnya’s brows rose. “That much trouble?”

“It will be if the gnomes attack,” Arcolin said. His mind raced as he thought of all he must do and in what order. “I’m riding to Foss immediately; I should be back here before dark. Start packing now and read this when you have time.” He handed over the king’s letter.

“Sir—my lord—the king needs an answer—”

“You’ll come with us,” Arcolin said. “We have no fast horse for you to ride back; you can find one in Valdaire.”

Once he reached Foss, he went to the head of the council. “My king commands my return earlier than planned; I leave you both infantry cohorts.”

“But—”

“But you hired all three. I know. And I know we have marched long and fought two battles for you this season. My king has urgent need; I’m taking the mixed cohort, and there is no sign that Immer is active. You’ve heard the same rumors I have.”

“That he died in Ka-Immer or at sea? Yes, but there’s no proof.”

“No, but the fact is that he did not capture Fallo, there are Kostandanyan troops allied with you, and a solid garrison of friendly troops in Cortes Cilwan. Wherever he is, alive or dead, he is not on the march here.”

“What’s happening in Tsaia?”

“Fintha,” Arcolin said. “You’ve heard about the split among Girdsmen, haven’t you?”

The councilman waved his hand. “Something religious; I’m not Girdish. I didn’t understand it.”

Arcolin explained as quickly as he could. “And so,” he said, “some people are running from the mage-hunters, and the mage-hunters are chasing them, and they’re not paying attention to borders. Including gnome borders.”

“Ahhh.”

“Yes. And the gnomes are … very angry that their borders have been transgressed, and they blame the king. Now, the king knows that I speak gnomish—”

“I see. Well. I see it is in your contract that you personally will have to leave if your king commands. And you usually do rotate a half-cohort to a cohort out in winter … but this is early … so let us say …”

The bargaining lasted only the turn of a glass, and Arcolin rode back to camp satisfied with the arrangement. Cracolnya had his cohort packed and ready to leave, wagon teams hitched. Couriers were on the way to the other two cohorts; Kaim had seen to Arcolin’s own gear and his other horse’s readiness. Arcolin rode to the head of the column, and they started off.

By traveling through the night, they had a clear road, and had almost reached Valdaire when morning traffic began to slow things down again. Still, they were in Fox Company’s winter quarters in Valdaire by early afternoon. The royal courier changed to the mount he’d left there on the way to Arcolin and rode away. Arcolin rode into the city to find the workshop where Dattur had worked.

In gnomish, with his stole visible, he said, “I seek a kapristin who would carry a message to Lord Prince Aldonfulk. I have price of Law for service.”

All the gnomes in the room stared at him before one said, “It is that no Aldonfulk is in this place today, Lord Prince Arcolinfulk. Is it that the Lord Prince will send message by outclan?”

“Yes,” Arcolin said. He laid down the coins on the nearest worktable: the price Law set for such a message.

Another gnome pushed aside a curtain between that room and another. “It is that it is urgent?”

“It is,” Arcolin said. He pulled out the letter he had written and his gnomish seal and ink. “Law requires witness for what I have written.”

Two gnomes stepped forward, including the one who had come from a back room; the others moved to the far side of the room. When Arcolin had properly signed and sealed the letter, finishing with a carefully placed drop of his own blood, the two gnomes added their names and marks. “It is done,” one of them said. They bowed; he inclined his head.

A detachment of Royal Guards met Arcolin and his cohort in Fiveway. Arcolin introduced himself to their captain, a young man not, Arcolin was certain, over thirty winters. At least he had expected Arcolin, though he seemed to have no idea why Arcolin had come.

“The king recalled me from Aarenis to take command of the defense,” Arcolin said. “We will leave immediately for the border.”

“But I thought you would stay at least a night—”

“In Fiveway? Find lodging for a hundred men, mounts, and supply wagons in trade season? No. It’s not even midday yet. We’re not stopping.”

The captain stared at the gnomes now riding in the first supply wagon. “Are those …?”

“Aldonfulk,” Arcolin said. “Envoys from the Aldonfulk prince and also my escort to Lord Prince Gnarrinfulk.”

“You’re going to … but you can’t!”

“Of course I can,” Arcolin said. “I’m the Constable, and the king expects me to deal with threats to the realm.”

“But—but you can’t represent the king as a mercenary commander!”

Arcolin repressed a sigh. “No, of course not. I will meet with Lord Prince Gnarrinfulk as a fellow prince.”

The man gaped; Arcolin signaled, and his cohort turned onto the South Trade Road.

“What am
I
supposed to do?” the man said as the column started past him.

“Fall in behind. I’ll need you to deal with Finthans fleeing the mage-hunters.” Arcolin glanced at Cracolnya, who grinned at him.

Arcolin considered going to Duke Elorran’s house, for he needed to cross Elorran land to reach Gnarrinfulk’s nearest border, but talking to Gnarrinfulk’s prince was more urgent than anything else. His gnomish guides told him where to turn off the road, pointing up the slope.

“Cracolnya, you and the royal troop continue on the road and camp before dark. If I’m not back this evening, continue tomorrow but don’t go beyond the border.”

The Aldonfulk gnomes led the way on foot; he rode behind them, as always amazed at how fast they could cover the ground with their short legs. By early afternoon, when Arcolin glanced back, he could see the road as a dusty scar on the land, but his cohort was out of sight behind the shoulder of a hill.

The line in the grass, when they came to it, ran perfectly straight along the front of the hills, rising and falling with the terrain. A stone set an armslength on this side bore a carved message:
GNARRINFULK. STOP
.

Arcolin dismounted. The land seemed empty and silent, the only sound the wind in the sunburnt grass. One of the gnomes with him picked up a rock from the ground and tapped on the marker stone. They waited. Arcolin straightened his scarf of office. Then, as if rising straight out of the stone, a line of gnomes appeared, all armed with pikes.

“Law is,” said one of them.

“Law is,” Arcolin replied in gnomish. “Lord Prince Arcolinfulk would speak to Lord Prince Gnarrinfulk.”

“It is that this
human
is gnomish prince?”

“It is so. Lord Prince Aldonfulk has said,” one of the gnome guides said.

“It is that
human
gave stone-right? Lord Prince Arcolinfulk?”

“It is,” Arcolin said.

“It is that Lord Prince Arcolinfulk come with us.”

Arcolin and his Aldonfulk escort followed the gnomes. Gnarrinfulk, he knew, was the gnome princedom that had tutored Gird himself in organized warfare. Once inside, and facing the Gnarrinfulk prince, he bowed and introduced himself with formality. The prince bowed in return and responded in Common, to Arcolin’s surprise.

“It is Gnarrinfulk speak Common from Gird. Gird slow to learn words of gnomish.”

Arcolin managed not to gape. Was the Gnarrinfulk prince claiming to have known Gird? He did not ask; instead, he moved on to the reasons for his visit. “My king says you have problem with humans here and in Fintha trespassing on Gnarrinfulk lands.”

“Yes. Breach of contract. Gird promised no trespassing. Only few—children now and then—since Gird. Kapristi not harm children. Hurt children is not Law.”

“And now?” Arcolin asked.

The trouble had gone on for more than a year, the gnome prince said. Time and again humans—even humans wearing Girdish symbols—crossed the trimmed line, ignored the boundary stones. Not just single humans but groups, and sometimes the groups fought and shed human blood on Gnarrinfulk stone-right. Worst of all a child or children had been killed on Gnarrinfulk stone-right.

“Is not Law. Not Law, nor Code of Gird,” the prince said. “Sent message to Marshal-General and to king in Tsaia. Both say cannot stop. Some quarrel of humans. Human quarrel not Law.”

“Did the Marshal-General or the king say why the quarrel?”

“Why is not matter. Law is Law. Contract broken is un-Law. Contract broken is … is broken both parties.”

“Law is Law,” Arcolin agreed. “Hurt children is not Law.”

“Kapristi not hurt children.”

“Some men wear Girdish symbols wrong,” Arcolin said. “Not Girdish. Not in Law. Not obeying Marshal-General. Not obeying king. They hurt children. They kill children. Parents take children and run—”

“Why kill children?”

“Children have magery. Girdish law—Code of Gird—says no magery is good.”

“Gird not say that.”

He had to ask. “Lord Prince Gnarrinfulk knew Gird?”

A nod. “Gird here. Learn from Warmaster. Gird …” A long pause, then a mutter in gnomish Arcolin could not quite hear. “Gird want Law, but no human can … even human gnome prince. We teach—taught. Gird learn what Gird could. But already knew, it is not magery but it is that mages used magery wrong.”

“So Marshal-General thinks,” Arcolin said. “But some Girdish think all magery evil. Those turn against Marshal-General.”

“Marshal-General is prince of Girdish,” the prince said. “Turn against prince is not Law. Is make
kteknik
.”

“These
kteknik
—” Arcolin chose to use the gnomish word. “—they have killed children and adults who they think have magery. Without reason. Against Marshal-General’s commands. Those accused flee to save children.”

“So … it is that the quarrel is those in Law against those
kteknik
?”

“It is.”

The prince said nothing; Arcolin waited. And waited. Finally, the Gnarrinfulk prince nodded again. “It is not known before. Law is that only some Girdish break contract by intent. Other Girdish wrong—boundary is boundary—but save children is not wrong.” He tilted his head to the side. “Lord Prince Aldonfulk wrote, said you saved kapristinya and children. After Dragon said all
kteknik
.”

Arcolin nodded rather than argue what Dragon had actually said. “Law to save children.”

“No kapristin would have known if all died.”

“It is not for being known,” Arcolin said. “Law required.”

“Ah. Lord Prince Aldonfulk wrote you have hesktak who was once
kteknik
.”

“Yes.” Where was this leading?

“Hesktak teach you well. You speak Law. Your tribe prosper. You have scent of Dragon. You met Dragon?”

“Yes,” Arcolin said. “More than once.”

The faintest hint of a smile on the prince’s face. “Dragon ask are you wise?”

“Yes. No man wise compared to Dragon.”

The prince nodded. “What help needs Marshal-General and king?”

Arcolin had not expected that offer; he had hoped merely to keep the gnomes from attacking humans in retaliation for border violations. He suggested that the prince let those fleeing mage-hunters across the border long enough to escape but stop the mage-hunters.

“Is not enough,” the prince said. “Is need help Marshal-General restore order. Order is Law. No order is
kteknik. Kteknik
humans is trouble.”