"To save the blood of her sisters? Her cell. For that she would leave her grave, gods permitting."
"Enough. Are there other matters you would bring before us?"
Harald paused a moment, then spoke again. "Another that grows from this: the Empire."
"What has it to do with a quarrel in my Kingdom?"
"Your Majesty knows that four times in the past twenty years the Empire has invaded the Kingdom's land, seeking to bring it under their rule."
"And four times we sent them home with their tails between their legs."
Harald remained silent, looking at the King, for a long moment. The King started to speak, stopped, looked round the table. Harald broke the silence.
" 'We' included the host of the Order—two thousand of the best light cavalry this side the western plains. If the Empire invades tomorrow, how many?"
"The Empire is not going to invade tomorrow. Not this year. Not next year."
Andrew spoke. "The Empire is tied down in Belkhan, a hundred miles and more north and east of the Borderflood, besieging a castle that has not fallen in a hundred years. One war is enough for them. They may settle the revolt in two years, in three. By then our troubles are dealt with, the Order more safely ours than before."
"I fear, my lord, that your information is out of date. A month ago, Cliff Keep fell to the second and twenty-third legions under Commander Artos. With the Inner Lands open, the rest of the rebels made terms or fled. If His Imperial Majesty wishes to turn his attention south the legions—more important, the Commander—are free."
Harald stopped. The room was silent. The King looked at his cousin. Andrew shook his head.
"I have heard no such news. Rumor. Perhaps a story spread by the Imperials to discourage other provinces from rebellion."
The King turned to Harald. "Your Excellency?"
"My neighbor's son was with the rebels."
"One mercenary. Even if he is honest, he might have been fooled by rumor—especially if he was looking for an excuse to come home." Andrew fell silent.
Harald looked straight back at him. "He brought Gryfydd an Gwyllian with him; we had the Count to dinner two nights before I left Haraldholt. The revolt's done."
Andrew said something quietly to the King, rose, left the room. Nobody spoke. At last the King broke the silence.
"My thanks for your news. This indeed means that we must settle the rebels quickly."
"Peacefully, Your Majesty. Corpses cannot fight. Every Lady your Wolves kill is one less bow beside us when next we face the legions."
"I will remember that, Excellency. But we have talked too long; my throat at least is dry."
The King clapped his hands. A moment later the door opened, admitting servants with wine, beer, trays of sweetmeats. As they put them out the King rose, walked to the door, turned.
"Refresh yourselves, Excellencies. I will be back shortly."
Stephen turned to Harald. "Things were very peaceful."
"In this room perhaps. What do your watchers on the Borderflood see?"
"Nothing coming across the fords but a few pack trains."
Harald turned to the lord across the table, younger than Stephen, broken nose, a long scar from cheek to chin.
"And the western fords?"
"More than a few—most of them heading over Northgate to your doorstep. The usual guards, some of them your people. No armies."
"I passed some of them coming east. My womenfolk are doubtless overjoyed."
The King came back into the room, took his place at the head of the table. Two of the lords refilled their goblets; the room grew silent.
"His Excellency has pointed out that we must settle the rebellion quickly with as little bloodshed as can be, lest the Empire find opportunity in our troubles. I had hoped to succeed without calling on your levies by expanding the royal messengers into a force sufficient for the purpose. Their chief asks more money to recruit more men. Your judgment."
Gray hair, gray beard, the lord of Estmark rose to his feet.
"Your Majesty, I'll speak plain. I don't know how many of the bandits in the plains are Wolves and how many only say they are, but my people, farmers, are arming, building walls, asking troops from my guard to protect them. We need fewer, not more."
A southern lord stood.
"I've had no trouble with Wolves, Majesty. But anyone can see what they are—men with swords, not soldiers. Hire two thousand, open field against the host, you'd have a lot of graves to dig. Make peace or make war."
He sat down; the King waited a moment, but no one else spoke.
"So we are agreed. To deal with the Order we call out the provincial levies—enough of them to outmatch the rebels."
The room was silent. The southern lord spoke first.
"Spring planting's mostly done. I can raise a half levy without hardship. Two hundred men."
The man next to him, younger, stood.
"Three hundred."
The King looked around the room.
"Lord Stephen?"
"We plant later. And Harald's news means men on watch the length of Borderflood, more behind. I could send a hundred perhaps—but not soon or far."
"Brand?"
The scarred man spoke. "Like Stephen. I can send men if Your Majesty commands it, but that strips the border."
The count went on, southern lords more willing than northern. The King turned at last to Harald.
"Two thousand men—more with two lords not yet to Council. A half levy of my own lands makes another thousand. The levy of the Vales is, I think, two thousand. Bring half. Facing four thousand the rebels must yield; our troubles are done with no more killing."
Harald looked up.
"I fear your Majesty has been misinformed."
"You did not bring twenty cacades of cataphracts to my father's last war with the Empire?"
"Indeed I did, Your Majesty. But the Northvales, as your father in his wisdom recognized, are no more a province of the Kingdom than the Kingdom is a province of the Empire. I brought an army across the Northgate to the support of my allies, not a levy in service to my king."
"I care little what you call it, so long as you bring it."
"Your Majesty is less than prudent. Thirty years the Empire has been held off by an alliance of three parts—Kingdom, Vales, Order. You tell me now that one of my allies makes war on the other, and ask me to join the fray. If I bring the host of the Northvales across the mountains, how sure are you which side it chooses? Better we stay home. Better yet you make peace with the Order."
Harald sat down. The room fell silent until at last the King spoke.
"The hour is late; tired men quarrel. We discuss these matters, the two of us, tomorrow day, call Council tomorrow even. With fortune Estfen and Estmount will be here by then."
He woke in a bed, sheets, a rough blanket. It took most of a minute to work out why it wasn't a bedroll under a tree. He pulled the shutters open. His own bedroll was in the corner; he remembered retrieving it from under a bench in the great hall. There was a basin and a ewer of water on the table—luxury indeed. Harald washed hands and face, unbarred the door, crossed the castle yard to the stable.
Both horses had fresh water, clean feed. He pulled down saddle blankets and armor padding, checked that they were dry, folded them, put them back on the shelf, apologized for having neglected to bring apples. One set of saddlebags went over his shoulders back to his room, where he changed into fresh clothes and set off for the great hall in search of breakfast.
Sitting by himself, Harald broke a chunk off a convenient loaf, ate it with sausage, cheese, bites from a withered apple out of the winter's store. When he finished he looked around. At one table Stephen, Brand, and a random collection of both men's guard were finishing breakfast. Stephen caught his eye, got up, headed for the door. Harald waited until he was through it before rising to follow.
The two ended on an empty stretch of the west ramparts, looking out over slope and forest to the central plains and the west range beyond, peaks blurring white against a clear sky. Stephen spoke first.
"With eyes twenty years younger you could almost see home."
"Through rock? Never that good."
They fell silent, Harald waiting. Finally Stephen spoke.
"I said we hadn't seen anything but trade crossing the fords. Truth, as far as it goes. Hoofprints. Groups of five or ten riders, not an army. Odd prints."
The stone they were leaning on, hollowed by the wind, had collected a thin layer of dust. Harald drew a shape in it with his finger, a rough U barbed at both ends. Stephen nodded.
"Not raiding, not guesting. Plains not woods. Ride at night, rest at day, through as quick as they can and south, that's my guess."
Harald's turn.
"Last night before feast, talking with a stranger, tall fellow, blond. Asked who I was with, said someone was hiring. Maybe not just cats."
Stephen gave him a worried look.
On his way to the stable, wallet full of apples lifted from store while their guardian carefully looked the other way, a royal servant found him.
"His Majesty would be glad of your company for the noon meal."
Harald nodded his assent.
"The terrace above great hall, a half hour past the noon bell. Shall I fetch you then?"
"I can find it."
His errand to the stable done, Harald found his way to the old orchard at the south end of the castle. Most of the stones were overgrown with moss. He sat looking at the one that was not until the noon bell roused him.
When he got to the terrace the King was waiting, the lady Anne seated at his side. Harald saw no reason to question the King's taste then, less by the end of the meal.
"They say your valleys are cold; is that why the wool is so good?"
"Upper end of the valleys for wool, lower end, out on the plains for mutton."
"The people on the plains. Nobody could tell me. How do they live? Who are they?"
"Westkin. Our word, not theirs; half the vales have relatives west. Wife's brother married a girl out of Fox clan. They call themselves Illash—People. Nomads mostly, herd sheep, horses, cattle. A little farming, places there's enough water—most of the plains pretty dry. Herd cattle for food, steal 'em from each other for fun. Pleasant life."
"There are a lot of them, aren't there?"
"Big plains. Kingdom, Vales—fit all of us in with room to spare."
"And fierce. What keeps them from coming over the pass, attacking, conquering us? Are they afraid of you?"
Harald laughed.
"We came over the pass, two hundred years odd back. The vales were empty. Westkin like flat land. Wouldn't mind your plains, but a lot of mountain between them and everywhere else they want to be. Clans raid each other. A few wild ones up into the lower vales, sometimes. With us over Northgate to raid the Kingdom, fifty years back. Ended when Henry, king that was, settled matters, thanks be."
He stopped. Looked down. When he looked up her eyes were on him, the King's on her. She watched Harald's face a moment, then went on.
"Is that why it's the Empire, not the plains, you've had to fight all these years?"
Harald waited for her to continue.
"I mean, they're farmers, like us. They want the same land. Your Westkin don't."
He looked her full in the face.
"His Majesty wants wisdom, hasn't far to look."
"But since the lady Anne is fair as well as wise and we have matters of moment to discuss, best we continue without the distraction of her beauty. Lady mine?"
Anne rose, nodded to both men, departed. They sat silent a while. At last the King spoke.
"Your Excellency took me to task last even for speaking of the Vales as though part of the Kingdom. Yet in law and justice they are; the first settlers were in allegiance to my ancestor. My father let the claim lapse. That does not mean I must."
"Law and Justice. Your Majesty's lands owe armed men, a month's service, so many from this province, so many from that. What get they in return?"
"Protection from their enemies. Justice to settle their quarrels."
"Your Majesty's grandfather, his father, his, back two hundred years. Half the year, the high pass closed, could not protect us if they would. Other half they didn't. Defended ourselves, settled our own quarrels. Still do. Your word runs this side the mountains. Our side, the law."
"That was then. If we can reach a settlement, we two, that's now. You want your law, you keep it—with my strength to settle matters if needed. My strength to protect you from your enemies."
"You purpose to send a few thousand heavy horse over Northgate, case one of the clans gets unfriendly, Empire pushes south our side the mountains?"
"Of course not—that's your part. We protect this side of the mountains."
"Your land, not ours. With our help. We protect our borders, help protect yours, counts as you protecting us. Sure you don't think you should be a province of ours?"
"That's the Empire's idea—both of us their province. You're juggling words. Fighting them on our land protects you too; that's why you send cats to help. Why you came yourself to fight for my father."
"One reason. Rather you other side Northgate than Empire, true enough. Still your war not ours. Empire crosses Borderflood, beats you, no Kingdom. We can hold Northgate till the mountains fall down. Doubt the Empire lasts that long."
He stopped. The King was silent, searching for words. Finally he spoke.
"I've heard of the legions; you've faced them. Maybe you're right, maybe you can hold the high pass without us. Maybe the Empire would trade with you, instead of closing the pass and the roads north until you made terms.
"But you're better off, we're better off, together. You were my father's ally. He didn't live forever; you won't. What comes next, who knows? You swear yourself my man. I swear to maintain you as lord of the Northvales. The Empire knows we stand together, not just you and me but our sons and theirs. They go look for land somewhere else."