Daughter By Isabella M. Gerritsen

The guard commander entered when the last party of envoys had left. ‘There is a boy with a message for you, sir.’ Lord Brock looked up. ‘What house is he from?’ ‘No house, as far as I can tell.’ The aged Manten lord frowned. ‘You mean he is here on his own business? What is it about?’ ‘He won’t tell, sir. He says he was instructed to give the letter only to you personally.’ ‘What kind of boy is it?’ ‘Well, not exactly a beggar, sir, but—’ he shrugged. ‘All right, I’d better see what it is all about. Bring him in.’ The man left the room and returned a few moments later with a rather tense looking youngster. ‘If this is a prank you’ll be punished,’ he growled. But the boy had eyes only for Lord Brock. Arrived before him he bowed. ‘I hear you have a message for me?’ ‘Yes sir.’ He took a letter from his inner pocket and handed it to him. The outside looked slightly soiled and bore the inscription ‘To Lord Brock, personally’. The hand-writing was unfamiliar to him. The wax the paper was closed with bore no seal. Breaking it he unfolded the letter and began reading. The first line shocked him profoundly. ‘When the Lady Auren’s body was returned to her family for burial she was pregnant.’ He looked up. ‘Do you know what this letter contains?’ ‘No sir.’ The youngster turned quite red. Was he lying? ‘Where did you get it?’ ‘It was given to me in the street, by a wise woman. She told me to deliver it to you.’ ‘Why?’ ‘She couldn’t do it herself, she said she would be missed.’ ‘All right. Just wait.’ He gave a sign to the guard commander, who put a restraining hand on the boy’s shoulder. Auren had been one of his women, but no man, except one of her family, should know of his private domestic affairs. In Manten one did not talk of such things. He read on and received a further shock. ‘Knowing the fate that awaited her in your household she took a drug that made her appear lifeless. Arrived in her parental home she was revived and in due time gave birth to a daughter.’ A daughter, when he had always thought that none of his women, none of their children, had escaped the poisonous attentions of his wife. ‘I would not have troubled you with my existence, lord, but my mother died a few months back, and now I fear for my life. My body being flawed and my background undisclosable, my grandfather intends to give me to a man of evil repute where women are concerned. I beg you to help me, sir. The wise woman whom I will ask to deliver this will vouch for my story. Your obedient child, Auren Aurensdaughter’ If this was true . . . ‘That wise woman,’ he asked the boy, ‘did you know her?’ ‘No sir, she accosted me in the street. But I would recognise her if I saw her again.’ That was not much help. ‘Where was this?’ ‘I—I don’t know, sir. I am new to this city, I lost my way a few times.’ ‘I want to talk to you again, do you have time to wait?’ ‘All the time in the world, sir,’ it sounded a bit desolate. Lord Brock regarded him. The youngster looked pale, his garments seemed a bit odd. ‘Have him fed and keep him for me,’ he told the guard commander. Then he went to the other side of his castle, the women’s side, and sent for his wise woman. Auren, what had she looked like? It was so long ago. He had no idea what family she had come from. She had been rather quiet, he remembered now. Soft brown hair, a small face. The wise woman entered. ‘You asked for me, sir?’ ‘Yes. Tell me, how long have you been the wise woman of my household?’

‘Nearly twenty years, sir.’ ‘But you’ve lived in my house for much longer than that. Has there ever been any of my women who wanted her body to be returned to her family upon her death?’ ‘That has happened three times, sir. It is rather unusual, but there have been an unusual amount of deaths here, of course.’ ‘Do you remember Auren?’ ‘Yes sir, she was the first who requested it after I attained my position. She was quite insistent about it.’ ‘I’m sure she was,’ he said drily. ‘I have just received a message claiming she was pregnant at the time, and only pretended to be dead in order to escape from my household. What do you know about that?’ ‘Pregnant,’ she mused. ‘It is possible, few confided in me, in those days.’ ‘And the rest?’ ‘There are herbs which could give that effect, even to people with medical training. I wouldn’t advise them to one who is pregnant, though, they might harm the child.’ ‘My body being flawed—’ the letter had said. ‘But you think the story might be true. Surely her family couldn’t keep her existence secret for this length of time?’ ‘As to that, sir, many households have women whose status is unclear, and if she herself wanted to remain hidden it wouldn’t have been too difficult.’ ‘Do you know what family she belonged to?’ ‘Merchants, I believe. I can look it up for you.’ ‘Do so. The letter claims this child, a daughter, is in fear of her life.’ ‘They will deny the story, of course.’ ‘I will tell them that if any harm befalls her I will be avenged upon them. Meanwhile you must find out all you can.’ ‘Has it occurred to you that the story might be false?’ ‘What do you take me for. But the writer of the letter had knowledge of things that only one of her house could know.’ He returned to his office and sent for the boy again. ‘What is your name?’ ‘I am called Karan, sir.’ ‘You said you weren’t from the city.’ ‘That’s right, sir, I come from the countryside.’ ‘You don’t look like a farmer’s lad.’ ‘A village, sir. My father had a shop.’ ‘Had?’ The boy swallowed. ‘They’re all dead now, sir. And there were debts . . . ’ ‘Tell me about this wise woman. Did you see which house she came from?’ ‘No sir, I hadn’t noticed her till she stopped me.’ ‘Why would she choose you as messenger?’ ‘Perhaps she’d heard me asking for a job, I’d been doing so all morning.’ ‘And why did you deliver the letter, has she paid you?’ ‘No sir, she said you would reward me.’ ‘Clever woman. All right, I’ll have you paid.’ ‘Actually, sir, I was hoping for another kind of reward.’ ‘Were you, now,’ he regarded him sardonically. Karan was blushing furiously but did not lower his eyes. ‘Will you take me into your service?’ He laughed. ‘Boldly spoken. Just for delivering a letter?’ ‘I’ll work hard.’ ‘As what?’ ‘Anything.’ A spy, was his first though. Then he reconsidered. If the boy was truly without family this was as good a way of getting a job as any. In either case the letter might be forged, though the knowledge of such delicate matters would point rather to spies than to enterprising youngsters. On the whole it might be a good idea to keep an eye on him. ‘All right, we’ll give it a try.’ He beckoned his servant. ‘Go and fetch Leron.’ Karan’s eyes shone with joy. ‘Thank you, sir.’

‘Have you had any kind of training?’ ‘I can read and write, sir.’ ‘Indeed. And accounting?’ ‘A little, sir.’ ‘Weapons training?’ He did not look very muscled. ‘No sir.’ Leron entered, Margay’s son, who had taken over the running of the household at his father’s death. ‘This boy wants to enter my service,’ he told him. ‘Put him to work in the kitchen and see how he shapes up. His name is Karan.’ If the youngster was disappointed at being given such a lowly job he did not show it. Shortly afterwards the wise woman gave him the name and address of Auren’s family. He wrote a letter to its head in which he was both circumspect and firm. There should be no question of the girl being handed to anyone without his full consent. His wise woman was to be permitted to visit her forthwith, or they would risk his displeasure. When it had been dispatched he fell to thinking. Assuming her letter told the truth, what kind of life would this girl have had? Well at least she had received a decent education, her writing told him that. A daughter. But for his friendship with young Merit, Milek’s daughter, he would hardly have known how to treat her. Though of course a Naran girl could not compare to one brought up in a closed Manten household. How much did Manten women get to know of the outside world? More than some men thought, he knew that. ‘I would not have troubled you with my existence—’ that irked him. If he had a daughter he had a right to know about her, to know her. What kind of woman would write that? A flawed woman, an uncertain, insecure woman. Poor child.

❖ The next morning he received a reply to his letter. A total denial of everything. Auren was dead and buried, had never had a child, and they were rather indignant about his accusations. But the wise woman had heard rumours about negotiations between them and a wealthy lord, widowed three times over, about a girl whose background was decidedly unclear. Also, a distant cousin seemed to remember seeing Auren at the family house, years ago, with a small child. He gave his wise woman free rein to go over there and investigate, with his full support. Later that day he went to the small island at the mouth of the river where he usually met Milek these days. When the business aspects had been dealt with his friend stayed talking for a while, as usual. ‘How is Torme doing?’ the Naran inquired. ‘Fine, according to the reports. And I don’t think it’s all flattery. Yes, he’s holding his own among the other youngsters. I think I’ll send him to university when he has completed his military education. That of Sonte, the same one I went to. It’ll be a very good way to round off his education. Mingling with students from many countries cures you of narrow-mindedness. I had a wonderful time there.’ He smiled re-flectively. ‘And how are your children?’ ‘To tell the truth, I’m a bit worried about Oske. He still has trouble with reading and writing, and we are sure now that it isn’t his eyesight. And that new teacher’s made no difference. With Merit on the other hand it’s just the other way around, she learns so easily she has time to get into all kinds of mischief.’ While Milek was talking his thoughts wandered. Merit, the cheerful girl he had last seen six months ago. Would his daughter be at all like her? ‘Is something the matter?’ his friend asked suddenly. Lord Brock looked up. ‘I’m sorry, my thoughts were elsewhere.’ He paused for a moment. ‘I’ve just heard that I have a daughter.’ Milek seemed faintly surprised. ‘Indeed, my congratulations.’ He laughed shortly. ‘No, not newly born. She wrote me a letter.’ ‘And you never knew?’ ‘No.’ He did not feel like going into detail about it, even to Milek. ‘Her existence was kept hidden from me. But now her maternal family is trying to put her into a house where her life may be at risk. I’ve threatened them, and offered to recompense them for taking care of her, but so far they deny that she even exists. I hope I can get her out of there in time.’ His friend was shocked. ‘This is terrible. Is there any way in which I can help you?’

‘I don’t see how. The only one who can get in there is the wise woman. Even my daughter-in-law would be politely kept out of all but the receiving apartments.’ ‘Can you trust your wise woman?’ ‘I think so. She has served me well, over the years.’ ‘How old is the girl?’ ‘Oh, seventeen, eighteen, a little older than Merit.’ ‘Is there no law you can enforce?’ ‘Hah. Laws about women are very vague, in Manten. And all I have as proof that she exists is a letter, which could have been written by anyone.’ ‘But you think it is genuine.’ ‘On the whole, yes.’

❖ That evening his wise woman had more to tell him. ‘Their household is in an uproar. They try to hide it but I know the signs.’ ‘Because of my threats?’ ‘I think it is more than that. Something the girl has done, it seems. I’ve talked to their wise woman but though she admits that perhaps there was a girl called Auren in their house, she denies ever having had a letter from her.’ ‘Well, considering that it was against her master’s wishes that is not surprising.’ ‘She sounded genuine, and astonished. As if she only now realised how you had come by your knowledge of the affair.’ ‘But why would the boy lie about that? Unless he’d obtained the letter in a dubious way.’ He went to the door. ‘I’ll have him brought.’ But Karan described the woman who had handed him the letter in detail, and his own wise woman nodded. ‘That is her. You have a good eye for people.’ The boy flushed. ‘She had to convince me, at first I didn’t want to do it.’ Who did the lad remind him of, Lord Brock mused. Was it Milek, when he was lying to him? He sent him away and went in search of Leron. ‘How is that new boy doing, what do you make of him?’ The other considered. ‘Willing to work, willing to learn, doesn’t talk much. He’s terrible at weapons practice.’ ‘Well, if he really comes from a village that’s not surprising. By the way, how are the others treating him?’ He knew from experience what problems a stranger in his household could have. ‘Oh, they don’t mind him doing the lowliest jobs for them, no trouble there.’ Margay would have told him more, would have noticed more. Or was it that Leron did not feel as free to speak his mind to him as his father had? ‘Have you caught him at any lies yet?’ ‘No, but he’ll hardly talk about his background. I don’t even know the name of his village.’ ‘Order him to tell you, and then make inquiries about shopkeepers there, while I deal with the other side of the matter.’

❖ He did not know what warned him, when he rode out of his gate, but looking round he saw a man in an alley with a drawn bow, the arrow pointing straight at him. As he made his horse jump forward the arrow flew past him, and hit one of his guards. The other guards galloped after the bowman and caught him as he was trying to get over a wall. Lord Brock directed his people to care for the injured guard and then sat his horse, waiting for the man to be brought to him. An assassination attempt, at the gate of his own castle. The question was whether he had been hired by his political opponents or by people from outside Manten. The assassin looked very sick when brought before him. ‘We prevented him from killing himself,’ said the guard who had made the capture. ‘He’ll be singing a fine song before we’re through with him.’ ‘Well done. Lock him up for now, and if I’m not back before the evening meal you can start the interrogation without me.’ One of his servants came up to him. ‘The injured man has died, sir.’ He looked back and saw the body of the guardsman being carried inside. ‘I will talk to his family upon

my return.’ He urged his horse on and they departed. Somehow he doubted that it was an inside job. Manten would know better than to kill him in the street. His guard was known to be very efficient and very ruthless. On the other hand his opponents might have hired an outsider and left the details to him.

❖ The meeting lasted longer than he had expected and upon his return he found the interrogation well under way. He did not particularly relish presiding over it but the job had to be done. ‘He’s tough,’ his interrogator told him, ‘he knows the tricks.’ ‘All the tricks?’ The other grinned. ‘The usual ones, but I know a few more.’ He turned back to his victim. ‘You can make it easy for yourself, or very, very unpleasant, but we’ll get the truth all the same.’ They did, in the end, when the assassin was too far gone to know what he was saying. It was the Palay, or what was left of that organisation. Dar-Bekil, their leader, who had managed to escape when the Special Unit raided his headquarters, had conceived an implacable hatred for him, considering him to be solely responsible for the raid and for the disclosure of the names of his spies. But he would not do it just out of spite. There would be more behind it, quite possibly a new attempt to gain control over Manten. The murderer did not know anything about that, of course. He died shortly afterwards. Lord Brock alerted his network of spies and told them what to look for. There were always a few nobles, or even merchants, ready to sell their country for a sufficient sum, or for a place in the government, under Palay control. He knew what would happen to the people once that organization got a foothold here. He got little sleep that night, and was woken with more unwelcome news. ‘The new boy has run away,’ Leron looked troubled. ‘Karan? What has he taken?’ ‘Nothing of value, as far as I can tell. Possibly some food.’ So, a spy after all. Yet what could he have found out, during those few days in his kitchen? Or had he perhaps been in league with that assassin? Him leaving so soon after the attempt could be no coincidence. The knowledge in the letter did point to a quite elaborate set-up. So he probably had no daughter after all. Grimly he set himself to finding out more about the conspiracy.

❖ He told his wise woman to stop looking for a girl who did not exist. ‘You mean all those who’ve claimed to have seen her or heard of her were lying?’ ‘All those? How many have you found?’ ‘Six. And while three or four of them may have been spinning me a yarn, there are two of whom I cannot believe that.’ ‘You yourself warned me it might not be true.’ ‘That was before I had heard them. Perhaps her existence gave some people the idea for this approach.’ ‘Have you heard any more about those negotiations?’ ‘They were broken off.’ That did not mean anything either. ‘How are things in their household?’ ‘They’ve all been forbidden to speak, to anyone from outside. Someone must be terrified.’

❖ As he knew Milek was still on the little island he had himself taken there in the evening. He needed someone to talk to. Someone not from Manten, with whom he could speak freely of women and daughters. He felt lonely. His friend was delighted to see him. ‘Have you found out more?’ ‘There have been new developments.’ He told him the whole story. It was a relief to be able to share it with someone. ‘So you think she doesn’t exist?’ ‘I don’t know what to think anymore.’ ‘Would you have liked to have a daughter?’ ‘You know my three sons are dead, and so are all other children I ever sired. I—came to like the idea.’ He snorted. ‘I was probably thinking of Merit. In Manten it would only mean I would have to find her a husband soon, though not like the one she was destined for, according to that letter. Yet if she truly exists I must do all I can to find her and spare her such a fate.’

‘What does—her family say?’ ‘Nothing. A wall of silence.’ He sighed impatiently. ‘It is so very frustrating!’ ‘How about that boy who brought the letter, did he know anything?’ ‘Running away so soon after the assassination attempt means that either he was in league with them, or he was just frightened of being found out.’ ‘You see spies everywhere.’ ‘I once had a Skipt in my service,’ he said drily. ‘Completely trustworthy. Never lied, never stole.’ ‘He wasn’t a spy,’ Milek objected. ‘Wasn’t he, for Naran?’ ‘I never set out to be one.’ ‘No, I give you that. But you can’t have forgotten what it is like here. The simple truth is that there are spies everywhere.’ ‘So perhaps the boy had found out what he wanted to know.’ ‘In the kitchen? I know there’s gossip, but nothing my enemies couldn’t find out in an easier way.’ ‘Was he always in the kitchen?’ ‘He probably helped bringing the meals round, but we know better than to talk about sensitive information when there are servants present.’ ‘What was he like? How old was he?’ ‘Fairly young, younger than Torme, I believe.’ That triggered something in his mind. Torme, the boy, there had been a likeness. Something he had noticed only subconsciously— ‘Damnation! It wasn’t a boy at all! That was my daughter!’ ‘Are—are you sure?’ Everything fell into place now. ‘Oh yes, that was Auren.’ The same eyes, the same chin. He felt vastly relieved. Certainty at last. And it meant she was out of that house. He laughed. ‘No wonder he was terrible at weapons practice.’ ‘You made him do that?’ ‘Well of course. Every man and boy in my service exercises daily. Except the occasional body servant.’ ‘I was very grateful for that,’ Milek smiled. ‘I received beatings enough.’ But Lord Brock frowned. ‘I wonder if that was why she ran away the second time.’ ‘You mean she ran away from her mother’s family too?’ ‘She must have done, disguised as a boy. That’s why they were all so upset, especially after my letter. I’ll question Leron again, now that I know this. He may have noticed something that seemed irrelevant at the time.’ ‘Where would she run to now?’ ‘Not back to her mother’s family, I hope.’ He would have his wise woman look out for that. ‘Do you have people searching for Karan?’ ‘No, it hardly seemed worth the trouble. I will now, of course. And then there’s always the carters.’ ‘Carters?’ ‘You don’t know about them? They’re the traders here. Not the big merchants but the common, smaller trade, north-south, east-west. You can see their caravans on any road, at any time. ‘There are different groups, of course. Some have specialised, others will take on anything and try to sell it for profit in the next town or county. Many of them are on the road for about half the year and spend the other half at home, other groups take their families along.’ ‘And you think she went to them?’ ‘It’s part of our folklore. In half the stories we tell our children about princes or youngsters who run away from home, or go out to make their fortune, they join a band of carters. They have a romantic image. So whenever a boy has run away we generally look for him in the carters’ caravans first, and quite often find him there.’ ‘Would she be in danger from them?’ ‘On the whole, no. They know the fathers will recompense them if they take good care of their sons. And if no agreement with the parents is reached for a while, a lad willing to work for his keep is always welcome. There are only a few who have a bad name.’ He smiled. ‘I’ve used them more than once, during my campaigning days. It quite caught my fancy when you found a carter to help with our escape, back on that Palay island.’ ‘What does she look like, your daughter. Is she pretty?’

He tried to imagine Karan’s face as a girl’s. ‘I don’t know. She looks a bit like Torme, well, like me, I suppose.’ ‘And were you a pretty girl, in your youth?’ He laughed. ‘You scoundrel! No, I doubt if she could be called a beauty.’ He thought. ‘If she really has gone and joined the carters I’ll have to search for her myself. I can’t send my men to look for a girl, even a disguised one. And I will have to win her confidence; it is me she ran away from.’ He sighed. ‘Well, perhaps the old cart hasn’t fallen apart yet.’ ‘Old cart? You mean to join them?’ ‘Yes. I told you, in my campaigning days Kerne and I used to spy out the land and the position of the other army while disguised as carters. I still have some friends among them.’ ‘But why can’t you just go to them as you are?’ ‘Because she may very well deny our relationship. And the carters don’t let them be taken by just anyone. That’s against the rules, it might mean a son could fall into the hands of his father’s enemies. No, if the child refuses to go back you either have to win it over, or get very convincing proof that he’s your son. Which I don’t have, of course.’ ‘So the carters’ camps must be filled with fathers trying to make up to their sons.’ The Manten nobleman smiled. ‘It doesn’t really happen as often as all that. But what I need is time, there must be no pressure or who knows what she might do.’ ‘If you need a companion . . . ’ He looked at Milek. ‘It would seem more natural, two of us. Carters rarely travel alone. Thank you.’ ‘You like disguising yourself, don’t you?’ ‘Oh yes, it gives you a whole new outlook on life. And you, were you finding life a bit dull?’ ‘Well, a little, perhaps.’ He grinned. ‘I’ll make a Manten of you yet.’ ‘You don’t have the monopoly on adventurousness,’ the Naran objected. ‘No, that’s true. There are the Skipt.’ Milek acknowledged the other was teasing him. ‘But quite a few members of our trade mission to Skipet were volunteers whose aims were less mercantile than adventurous.’ ‘All right, I’ll give you that.’ His friend sighed. ‘Naran society is dull compared to Manten. But I’m still glad my children are growing up there. Adventure is all right for those who want to go looking for it, but not if it is thrust upon them when they are young and defenceless.’ ‘This case is extraordinary even for Manten.’ But perhaps its cause was not, he reflected. ‘I’ll have inquiries made first thing in the morning, and if there is any indication that she has joined the carters I’ll let you know. Can you free yourself for such a length of time? It might be several weeks before we find her.’ ‘There is nothing pressing, I’ll write to Gerel so she’ll know not to expect me home for a while. But how about you?’ ‘This comes first. My assistants will have to deal with the rest.’ He frowned. ‘That assassination attempt came from the Palay. I fear they may be trying once more to get a foothold in Manten.’

❖ Upon his return he called Leron and asked again if Karan had been set upon by the other servants. ‘No, I watched out for that after you mentioned it, but the boy seemed happy enough.’ ‘Is there any possibility that he might be hiding somewhere in the castle?’ ‘No sir, the guards saw him leave, at dawn this morning. He claimed he had an errand to run.’ ‘Had you questioned him yet, about his village?’ ‘Yes, but casually, as if it weren’t important. The man I sent to ask about shopkeepers there isn’t back yet.’ ‘And he didn’t seem scared then?’ ‘No.’ Leron frowned. ‘The last time I saw him, though—I wasn’t paying attention at the time—’ ‘Well?’ ‘It was very late last night. He looked as if he’d been sick. It was only an impression.’ ‘What time exactly?’ ‘Well after you had come back from the interrogation room.’ ‘All right, thank you. And, Leron—’ ‘Sir?’

‘Did you ever notice that he was crippled in some way?’ ‘Crippled? No, he seemed perfectly healthy; no deformity that I could see.’ When the steward had gone he thought back. The interrogation. Afterwards the body would have been carried away through the corridors. His men would not have bothered to cover the remains. She might have encountered that grim procession. Would that explain her running away? Despite the late hour he sent for the wise woman again to tell her of his findings. She looked upset. ‘I have failed in my duty. I should have seen it was a girl, and noticed the resem-blance. I realise now that it was there.’ ‘I don’t blame you for that, there are no other children here to compare her with. It took me long enough, and I spoke to her on three occasions. No, I just want you to make sure she hasn’t returned to her mother’s family. I’ll send my men to make inquiries in the carters’ camps and other places. But if you hear any other news, let me know at once.’ ‘Of course.’ She hesitated. ‘At her age she should be married, do you want me to start the preliminaries? It won’t be easy in this case.’ ‘Most certainly not! She’s just escaped from a very nasty situation.’ ‘That wasn’t marriage, sir. The two states cannot be compared.’ ‘I know that. But still. Also she wrote that she was blemished in some way, and you can’t negotiate if you don’t know what is wrong with her. But most of all I want some time to get to know her first. If she does want instant marriage I’ll notify you.’

❖ Before the end of the next morning he received word from his men that a boy answering to Karan’s description had been seen hanging around the carters’ market the day before. He was not there anymore but several bands had left town yesterday. He sent for his stable master. ‘We used to have an old carters’ wagon, is it still there?’ ‘Yes sir, I inspect it once a year and have repairs made if necessary.’ ‘Excellent. I’ll want it tomorrow. How about the harness?’ ‘It’s showing its age, though still serviceable.’ ‘That’ll do.’ ‘Do you want me to find a draught horse for it, sir?’ ‘No, that’ll be taken care of.’ He sent Milek a message and then went to visit Raldo, a retired carter and old friend. ‘A horse. Of course, I know just what you want. You’ll need a cargo too. I suggest turnips, they’ll keep for a long time and though they won’t fetch much it’ll be a reasonable start.’ ‘I don’t intend to keep it up that long!’ Raldo smiled. ‘No, but you’ll have to explain why you haven’t been seen before. Starting anew after some years’ retirement isn’t unheard of. I suggest you didn’t get along with your son’s wife. Now don’t glare, you know we carters don’t hold with that newfangled prudishness of you townees.’ ‘Newfangled!’ He laughed. ‘It’s a tradition of four hundred years at least.’ ‘That’s what I said, newfangled. We carters have been travelling the roads for a lot longer than that.’ ‘You are a townee yourself now, you old rascal.’ ‘Never. I’ve just—halted for a while. Come along, the horse market will have some good beasts yet. You’ve brought money I hope?’

❖ ‘A nice even-tempered animal,’ Raldo patted the neck of their new acquisition. ‘He’ll manage that load of turnips with ease.’ Lord Brock regarded the animal critically. ‘He’s astonishingly ugly, even for a carter’s horse.’ ‘That’s why we got him at such a reasonable price. For someone starting anew this is a very likely beast. I’ll put him up. Have the cart brought round to me, so you can start out from my place. Are you going alone?’ ‘No, a friend is coming along.’ ‘Pity, I wouldn’t mind a taste of the road again.’ ‘Well, what is there to stop you?’ ‘My bad leg.’ The old carter sighed. ‘I was just dreaming.’ He looked up. ‘So you’re having trouble with the younger generation? Well, who hasn’t. And it must be serious, for you to join them. A few weeks of living rough usually cures the children of their rebellion. Or is it that you are out spying again?’

‘You talk entirely too much for your own good.’ Raldo grinned. ‘It hasn’t harmed me yet. Though it’s never got me any information out of you either.’ Then he grew serious. ‘Let me tell you something, things aren’t what they were. There are evil people on the road, of late. Things are happening that we wouldn’t even have thought of in our days.’ ‘Such as?’ ‘I’ve heard talk about secret meetings with strangers. And something about blackmail. Don’t let them catch you, they’re quick with their knives.’ Afterwards Lord Brock went to visit his friend Kerne. ‘I have to go away on private business, I do not know when I’ll be back.’ ‘Anything I can do?’ ‘Yes, I was investigating that Palay assassination attempt, and it seems there is more behind it.’ He explained what he had found out so far. ‘I’ll tell my assistants to share everything my spies find out with you. Do whatever you think fit. I will not have them corrupting our country.’ ‘Some of the Council Members may object,’ his friend pointed out. ‘Then you can tell them you’re acting in my name. In practice I outrank the lot. And objecting makes them immediately suspect, of course.’ Kerne nodded. ‘I’ll do what has to be done.’ ‘Thank you.’ The Manten lord paused. ‘I’m taking the road in the old cart.’ He sighed. ‘I am richer than I thought I was, but now I have to go and protect my wealth.’ The other gave him a searching look and then nodded. ‘Are you taking your Naran?’ ‘Yes.’ He realised that his friend felt left out. They had always taken the road together. ‘I’m sorry, but … He still found himself unable to talk to Kerne about the other side. The other understood. ‘Old habits die hard.’ ‘They do, my friend, they do.’ ‘Are you expecting trouble?’ ‘Not really.’ He checked. ‘Though Raldo has heard odd rumours about the carters.’ ‘I’ll go and talk to him.’ ‘We’re starting out tomorrow. I think I’ll take Raldo’s name, it’s common enough on the road. We’re going south.’ ‘How long do you expect to be gone?’ ‘They’ve got a two day start on us. It could be a while before we’ve found the right band. And then—who knows.’ They talked for a while longer, then he got up. ‘My best wishes go with you,’ said Kerne gravely when he took his leave. ‘Thank you, my friend.’ The next morning he gave some last instructions to his two assistants, with whom he had talked various things through till late the previous day. Then he dispatched one of his men to the harbour to guide Milek to Raldo’s house, and set out for that place himself, his saddlebag packed with suitable clothes. Arrived at the carter’s house he sent his horse back with his groom.

❖ ‘He’ll never pass for a carter in those clothes,’ said Raldo when they had changed. ‘He’s a great lord, looking for his son,’ Lord Brock explained. ‘I am?’ The Naran looked startled. ‘Well, you obviously don’t know anything about this way of life, so I can’t pass you off as another carter.’ ‘Couldn’t I be your apprentice, then?’ ‘Let’s face it, Milek, you’re not of an age to be an apprentice any more. No, we’ll do it differently this time. I want you to draw their attention away from me, and this should solve both problems.’ Raldo nodded. ‘Yes, you can take that line. But it’ll mean you can’t stay with one band for very long, you know.’ ‘We’ll manage. Has the cart arrived safely?’ ‘Yes, I’ve had my—had it cleaned out properly. And we’ve changed the bedding. It had been standing idle for quite a few years, hadn’t it?’ ‘Yes, I hadn’t thought of that. Thank you.’ ‘Well, here she is,’ Raldo opened the door to the yard. ‘Now let me see you harness the horse.’

‘It’s been a few years.’ The Manten lord went into the stable and took down the tack. Helped by Milek he set to work; the animal was a bit frisky. ‘He’ll settle down once he’s done a good day’s work,’ the old carter assured him. ‘He’s an affectionate creature. Mind you give him a good rub down when you’ve stopped in the evening.’ ‘That’s not how the straps usually go,’ said the Naran at one point. ‘No, this is typical for our carters,’ Lord Brock explained. ‘Among other things it’s how they recognise each other.’ Finally they were ready, Raldo swung the gate open and stood aside. ‘One last word of advice, keep away from the badlands; honest folk give them a wide berth these days. Though of course you never were very good at staying out of trouble.’ ‘I’ll remember it, thank you.’ The horse moved forward and they were on their way. ‘I’m a bit nervous about playing a Manten nobleman,’ Milek confessed. ‘I’ve never done anything like that before.’ ‘There’s a first time for everything. And noblemen are human beings too, you know.’ ‘No, I mean, to be in a position of power, I wouldn’t know how to behave.’ ‘I think you’ve had a fair example, over the years.’ ‘But we’re so totally different.’ ‘Just be yourself, only take no nonsense from others, be firm with them. Pretend you’re dealing with your children.’ ‘Right. This is one game I won’t play for you,’ the Naran declared. ‘Pretending to be someone else! It’s too absurd for words.’ The other laughed. ‘Not bad, not bad at all.’ ‘Did you and Kerne do this too, change places?’ ‘Oh yes, several times. Kerne used to have a nice line in rash young noblemen.’ Soon they had reached the countryside. ‘Three bands of carters left town on the day she disappeared,’ said Lord Brock. ‘They all took this road. If we’re lucky she’s in the first band we catch up with. I’ll have to push the horse a bit, but he’s fit and rested.’ ‘You mean they didn’t stay together, these bands?’ ‘No, often they split up and go to different villages. It depends on their cargo. Some may go right on and not stop at any market till they’ve reached another county. We’ll be on our own for the first day or two, so you will have an opportunity to get used to this kind of life. And you’d better start calling me Raldo.’ ‘What name do you have for me?’ ‘How about Silur? Lord Silur, of course. By the way, how are your cooking skills?’ ‘Rather basic, I’m afraid.’ The other grunted. ‘So are mine. This is going to be a wonderful trip.’ ‘How do we get food, do we take it with us?’ ‘In a way. Our cargo is turnips.’ Milek looked dubious. ‘Very nourishing, I believe.’ ‘So you like them as much as I do,’ grinned Lord Brock.

❖ In the evening they halted by a small stream, unharnessed the horse and saw to its needs. Then they gathered firewood and prepared the meal. It was not a success, partly burnt, partly raw. ‘You’ve worked in the kitchen more than once,’ grumbled the Manten lord. ‘But they never let me prepare any food. Servants in disgrace are set to cleaning and washing up. At most I was allowed to scrub the roots.’ ‘They were well scrubbed,’ Lord Brock admitted. After cleaning their utensils in the stream they spread their mattresses in the front part of the wagon. ‘How is it possible to fit a wife and children in here?’ asked Milek. ‘Those who do have bigger carts, or they have their cargo in a separate one.’ On the second day they made good time. ‘If I’m supposed to be a nobleman, how do I treat you?’ the Naran asked as they were sitting side by side on the driving-seat. ‘Depends on what kind of lord you are. Are you angry or nervous about your son? Do you hate having

to depend on a disreputable carter like me?’ ‘I suppose I’m angry. Not much harm can befall him, or so you told me.’ ‘All right, and how about me?’ ‘How are carters regarded, generally?’ ‘They’re looked down upon a bit, mostly because they rarely join the army. They themselves look down on townees or make fun of them.’ ‘I think I’ll be a bit stuffy, then. But we get along reasonably well.’ ‘And I’ll poke fun at you behind your back. Not to your face, because you pay me.’

❖ The next day they reached a village where they found the first band of carters. As they approached the camp some youngsters came and looked at them, Lord Brock greeted them cheerfully. ‘The men will mostly be at the market-place, with the older boys,’ he told Milek. ‘But the one we’re looking for might be here. Remember, it’s you who’s searching for his son. I’ll see to the horse.’ His friend seemed a bit nervous. ‘Don’t worry, this is the easy bit, they’re just kids.’ ‘Right.’ The other jumped off and went over to them. Meanwhile Lord Brock manoeuvred the cart to a convenient place and began unharnessing the animal, casting appraising looks round him. But either Auren was not in the camp or she kept herself hidden. After a while Milek came back. ‘Well, he doesn’t seem to be here, Raldo. Where did you say the others were?’ ‘In the market-place, my lord. If you’ll wait I’ll fetch my turnips and we can go there. Object!’ he added in an undertone. ‘No I won’t wait. You can sell your turnips some other time, I’m paying you to find my son.’ The other shrugged. ‘All right then, this way.’ As they moved out of earshot he grinned. ‘You’re doing fine. We’ll stay the night here, but if we haven’t found her by then she isn’t in this camp. In that case we’ll continue our journey tomorrow morning.’ He frowned. ‘Anything wrong?’ ‘It might be possible that they’re keeping her hidden in one of the carts. There have always been rumours that a few of the carters are involved in a rather nasty trade in girls.’ ‘Then there would be a cart that they wouldn’t want us to inspect very closely.’ ‘Yes, but some of them also take their wife along.’ ‘You said they were more easy-going about their womenfolk.’ ‘But they mistrust townees, especially noblemen, who are always adding new girls to their house.’ Milek was surprised. ‘Are they?’ ‘Some,’ was the short reply. ‘Here is the market-place. Look round.’ They walked from stall to stall, watching the sellers rather than their wares. But when they had been round twice Lord Brock stopped. ‘Not here, my lord? Then I’ll go and talk to them.’ ‘But not about turnips.’ ‘One has to make some small talk before getting down to business.’ He went to the nearest stall. ‘How is business? Are the turnips doing well here?’ ‘Where did you come from?’ ‘I caught up with you just now. I’ve got a cart-load full of turnips.’ ‘Well, you won’t have competition from us. But you won’t sell much here either, they grow them themselves.’ ‘I was afraid of that. But there’s another thing. Did you pick up any stray youths in the city? His lordship has hired me.’ ‘Well, there were one or two hanging about the camp, but we didn’t take any in. I’ll ask around, perhaps someone has seen where they went.’ ‘Much obliged. I’ll see you in the evening, then. The name’s Raldo.’ They moved on. ‘Aren’t you afraid they’ll recognise you?’ asked Milek as they were walking back. ‘I don’t often make public appearances, certainly not in front of carters. And the few, like Raldo, who knew me in the old days won’t give me away.’

❖ ‘Old Raldo, are you on the road again?’ Someone was coming to their campfire. Lord Brock, who was stirring the pot, straightened and turned.

Their visitor was taken aback. ‘Oh, it isn’t you.’ ‘Well, my name’s Raldo and I am old, what more do you want.’ The other chuckled. ‘You have a point there.’ He gestured. ‘Your food’s burning.’ ‘Damn it. Again!’ Hastily he removed the pot from the fire. ‘I can’t seem to get the hang of it anymore.’ ‘The fire’s too hot for one thing.’ The man leaned against the cart. ‘So you’ve been out of it for some time?’ ‘Yes, we had a little house. And at first it wasn’t too bad.’ ‘But then you got the road-fever again?’ ‘But then I got a daughter-in-law.’ The other laughed. ‘That bad?’ ‘You should hear her. No, I patched up the old cart and got me some cargo.’ ‘Starting from scratch again isn’t easy. Come back with me, we’ve food enough for two more.’ ‘That’s very kind of you, we’ll gladly accept. This is Lord Silur. I believe you know my name already.’ ‘I’m Treff. Yes, I heard you were looking for some boy.’ Lord Brock put out the fire. ‘I could do with a boy here, I’m getting stiff. I wish my son had come with me.’ ‘He let you go alone?’ ‘Well, we had words.’ They followed Treff to his own campfire where he introduced them to his two sons. ‘I can’t think why we’ve never met before.’ ‘I used to do the southern roads, but now I’m stuck here till business gets a little better.’ ‘This is a good region. In the capital you can sell almost anything, and at a good price.’ ‘But for buying the prices are high too.’ ‘There’s that.’ Treff turned to Milek. ‘I saw a boy helping with the cargo, at the market in the city. So he almost certainly came along. Only I don’t know with which band.’ ‘Do you know in which direction the other bands went?’ asked Lord Silur. ‘There isn’t much to choose from for the first few days. All three of us took this road, but we were the first to halt at a village.’ ‘How far do you think we are behind the others?’ ‘Oh, a day, a day and a half. Though one band seemed rather inclined to hurry. I didn’t know them very well, they kept themselves to themselves.’ The carts were placed in a rough circle, and after the meal people remained talking by their fires, or went over to friends for a chat. Lord Brock and Milek went from group to group, asking their questions, sometimes stopping to talk. Finally it was time to turn in. ‘No sign of anything irregular,’ murmured the Manten lord. ‘These people have nothing to hide. Oh well, better luck next time.’

❖ They had bought some foodstuff in the village so their next meals were a little more varied. ‘You’d better stay in character even when we’re alone,’ Lord Brock advised Milek. ‘Otherwise you won’t get enough practice.’ ‘I find it very difficult. I feel as if they might find me out any moment.’ ‘Yet this isn’t the first time you act a part.’ ‘But nobody notices a servant. As a lord I’m the centre of attention.’ ‘Well, at least you’ve gone up in the world.’ ‘Oh, I didn’t mind my position. And I liked the work.’ The other looked at him. ‘Servant’s work? Do you mean that?’ ‘Yes, really. You make it sound like a crime.’ ‘No, it’s just, I can’t imagine.’ ‘Yes, making everything run smoothly, seeing to details, arranging things. It gave me a feeling of satisfaction.’

❖ It took them two more days to catch up with the second band. They rode into the village near dusk, just as the men were returning from the market. ‘New faces,’ one of the carters hailed them, ‘come along, our camp is over there.’ ‘Thank you. My name’s Raldo. How is business?’

‘We can’t complain. And who is that travelling with you?’ ‘Lord Silur, looking for his son. Do you have him?’ ‘I don’t think so, but I don’t know all the boys yet, I only joined up when we left the city.’ There were willing hands to help him find a place and unharness the horse, while Milek went to make inquiries in the camp. ‘How is he, this lord of yours?’ they asked Lord Brock. ‘Not too bad, really, but you know what they are like.’ ‘Yes, they’re a high-handed lot.’ Lord Brock smiled. ‘You said it.’ When he had prepared their meal Milek returned. ‘Anything?’ ‘Well she’s not here, but they have seen her—at least, a boy like that—with the other band.’ ‘Why is it always the last band.’ Then he saw Milek’s face. ‘What’s the matter, is there more?’ ‘I got the impression they have a bad reputation. Some told me to make haste.’ Lord Brock suddenly lost his appetite. ‘It may not mean anything, of course,’ but the other was also toying with his food. ‘They don’t say things like that for nothing, not to strangers.’ He put down his plate. ‘I must know more.’ As he got up a big, thickset man was coming towards them. ‘So it is you. Calling yourself Raldo these days?’ The Manten lord frowned, then his face cleared. ‘Frane, I hardly recognised you. Come sit down, old friend, we must talk.’ ‘Thank you. So you’re travelling again. I thought you’d given up campaigning years ago.’ ‘I hope no one heard you proclaiming that I’d given a false name.’ ‘I’m sorry, that was a bit thoughtless, but no, I don’t think so.’ ‘Frane, this is Lord Silur.’ ‘Yes, I talked to him.’ ‘So you know what it’s about.’ ‘That was for real? I thought it was just a blind.’ ‘Only too real. But it’s not his son.’ ‘His—daughter?’ ‘Mine.’ Frane nodded slowly. ‘That’s serious.’ ‘She ran away dressed up as a boy. Someone of the right description was seen near the carters’ camp, the day you left. She wasn’t there afterwards.’ ‘I may have seen her. Pale-skinned, dark eyes, dressed like a servant?’ Lord Brock raised his head. ‘That’s her.’ ‘You’ve heard where she is now?’ ‘With the other band.’ He lost his patience. ‘What about them!’ ‘Well, they’re a bad lot I’m afraid. They wouldn’t mix with us, but we knew them for what they were all right. These days they specialise in holding sons of rich fathers for ransom, and it isn’t too clear how they get hold of them. They have a vested interest in the trade in girls, too, and it won’t have taken them long to see through her disguise. But there are also tales of boys disappearing without a trace. We were only too glad when they left us.’ ‘When was that?’ ‘This morning, when we decided to stop here. It’s one of the reasons why we did.’ ‘Any idea where they’re headed?’ ‘I think I can guess. We’re quite near the badlands here, there’s a track a few miles on that’s not as overgrown as it used to be.’ ‘We must get on!’ ‘Not tonight. Apart from your horse needing a rest, it isn’t safe to travel there after dark.’ ‘Frankly, I don’t care.’ ‘There’s only two of you, they’d probably kill you. And as to the ones they’re meeting, well . . . ’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘Some adventurous boys of us once followed a band of them, they were lucky not to be discovered, the

young fools. Somewhere in the middle of the badlands that band met up with some strangers, coming from the south. Now they were too far away to see exactly what went on, but they swear they heard a few screams.’ ‘A fight?’ ‘No, nothing like that. The strangers soon left again, they had a covered cart with them, a short one, like those used in the mountains. And the boys claim that two of the men wore pointed caps.’ ‘What?!’ ‘What does that mean?’ asked Milek. ‘The only people to wear pointed caps are the Sartam, and they have not been seen north of the mountains for ages.’ ‘The Sartam? But their empire is far away, surely?’ ‘In theory, but they keep nibbling at the smaller countries south of the mountains. Some of those are little more than vassal states by now. And we all know what the Sartam are interested in.’ ‘Gods,’ Milek whispered. Frane pointed at him. ‘Your Lord Silur appears not to be from—around here.’ ‘That’s right,’ said Lord Brock absentmindedly, ‘he’s a Naran.’ ‘A Naran lord?’ ‘No, a friend,’ he cast him a sharp look. ‘I won’t tell you his real name as you’re too indiscreet these days.’ The other raised his eyebrows. ‘You always were full of surprises.’ ‘You shouldn’t believe all you hear about the Narani. Now I must catch up with them before they get a chance to sell her.’ ‘All the more reason to let your horse rest tonight. Can I make a suggestion?’ ‘Of course.’ ‘When they see you coming after them they’ll know you suspect foul play. No one goes into the badlands on legitimate business. Give them something to divert their attention. Pretending the child is your friend’s is a good start; now make him pose as your son. They’ll know something is not right but when they discover he is a nobleman in disguise they’ll look no further.’ ‘So I’m pretending to be a nobleman pretending to be a carter’s son?’ said Milek. ‘It’ll disguise your accent too. Few townees ever learn to speak our way well enough to fool a carter. Present company excepted.’ ‘He’ll need other clothes,’ said Lord Brock. ‘Of course, and if they search your cart and find the ones he’s wearing now they’ll be convinced. I’ll get you something.’ He got up and went to his own wagon. ‘Why would these Sartam come all the way here?’ asked Milek ‘It might be just for trade, or they might be spies, but in that case why keep their tell-tale headgear? Or it might be a way of provoking us. The present ruler seems greedy for land, he may want a pretext. And if they manage to get an army across the mountains—there is rich pickings here.’ ‘Did you make any arrangements to get assistance, troops or something, in case of trouble?’ ‘No. I didn’t expect trouble, and this business was too private.’ ‘Is it likely that we’ll be able to free her on our own?’ ‘The difficulty will be getting away. Our horse won’t be faster than theirs, especially after the exertion of catching up with them. The badlands have a thousand hiding-places, of course, but we can’t stay holed-up for ever, without food. I can buy some travel biscuits here. They’re carters’ emergency fare and will keep for a long time.’ Frane returned with some clothes for Milek. ‘I think this’ll fit you. Try them.’ He turned to Lord Brock. ‘Do you want some of us to come along?’ ‘I don’t think that’d be much use, you can’t come in numbers sufficient to overpower them so we’ll have to use stealth. And in that case the less there are of us the better.’ ‘Do you remember the Secret Place?’ ‘Yes, but there’s no way out once they lay siege. No, we must try and sneak away while they’re occupied. Possibly while they’re meeting their contacts.’ ‘Have you still got our badge?’ ‘Of course.’ ‘It’ll get you the help of any honest carter. Those who tell you it’s a fake, or outdated, are the ones who

took the Wrong Road.’ ‘Thank you, I’ll remember that.’ Milek came out of the cart. ‘The clothes fit quite well, thank you.’ ‘There is something not quite . . . ’ Frane regarded him critically. ‘You look too pale.’ ‘We’ll give out that he’s been ill,’ said Lord Brock. ‘And we wear our belts like this,’ he refastened it. ‘That expensive knife is a nice touch. Just like a nobleman, not wanting to change his for a common one; a real give-away.’ ‘Are they likely to be keeping her locked up?’ asked the Manten lord. ‘Not unless they’re about to meet a buyer. It’s much easier to have her thinking she’s safe among them. Youngsters are so credulous.’ The evening gather was over by the time Frane finally left. ‘We’d better go to bed,’ said the Manten lord. ‘I want to make an early start tomorrow.’ But he found he could not sleep. All the suspicions and worries he had not wanted to acknowledge before came to torment him now. Would they be in time or would she have disappeared with some buyer? Would she listen to him when they found her? The thing that had made her run away might well prejudice her against him and all he might say. What had made her run away? As he lay twisting and turning he heard Milek’s even breathing from the other bed and smiled grimly. For once his friend did not keep him awake with his nightmares, and now it was his own restlessness.

❖ They rose early and while Milek tried his hand at breakfast Lord Brock went out to buy what travel biscuits he could get. ‘Well, here it is,’ he said on his return, putting down a sack. ‘Split three ways it won’t last us much more than a week or two, but it’s all we can safely stow in here.’ After a hasty meal they were on the road again, setting a smart pace. ‘This is as fast as I dare go, with this horse,’ said the Manten nobleman. ‘Perhaps we should dump part of our load.’ ‘How far do these badlands go on, all the way to the southern mountains?’ ‘A goodly way. You know, I’m beginning to wonder, this is very far north for Sartam spies, could they perhaps have been Palay in disguise? After all, anyone can put on a pointed cap.’ ‘But what would they gain by doing so?’ ‘I’m not sure yet. Putting the blame on someone else is common practice of course. For the time being I’m keeping an open mind. Look, do you see that grey wall in the distance? Those are the cliffs where the badlands begin. The road runs along them for a while.’ ‘What is it that makes them badlands?’ ‘The ground is very stony and broken, of no use for either crops or serious grazing, especially as some of the slopes consist of nothing but scree. Animals could break their legs or even get killed there.’ Not long after they had reached the cliffs they came upon a deep gorge. A small stream came out of it and by its side was the track Frane had mentioned. They turned into it, it had obviously been used recently, by several vehicles. ‘One day behind, but they have no reason to stop anywhere until they reach the place of their meeting.’ ‘Perhaps they’re early,’ suggested Milek. ‘Then why hurry so much?’ ‘Perhaps to prevent your daughter from mixing with other carters, who might put her wise.’ Lord Brock grunted. ‘It’s possible.’ He glanced aside at him. ‘Why are you doing this?’ ‘What?’ ‘Trying to reassure me.’ ‘Well we’re doing all we can. You said yourself the horse could go no faster. However much you worry, it will make no difference.’ ‘Wise words,’ he said ironically. ‘You can’t deny that I know about worrying.’ ‘And do you practise what you preach?’ Milek grinned ruefully. ‘We can but try.’

❖ Towards evening they came upon the place where the band they were following had camped that night. ‘We’ll push on a bit further,’ decided the Manten lord. ‘The horse isn’t that tired.’

But when they finally did stop they could not find water. ‘I should have thought of that. Well, I’ll just have to go looking for it.’ He fetched the bucket. ‘You take care of the horse.’ The horse was restive and gave Milek a lot of trouble. Realising that the animal was thirsty too he finally let it go where it wanted, following it and keeping a firm hold of the rope. The animal clambered noisily and clumsily over rocks and through gullies. Already it was beginning to get dark. ‘Milek, is that you?’ he heard Lord Brock call out suddenly. ‘Yes, over here. I think the horse is smelling water.’ ‘Clever of you. I’m coming.’ And indeed, a short while later the horse was drinking from a small stream. ‘Very modest,’ said the Manten lord, ‘but enough for the three of us. I was beginning to fear we’d have to do without, tonight.’ He filled the bucket and they made their way back to the cart. Milek noticed that the other was slightly out of breath. ‘Let me do the cooking tonight.’ ‘Very kind of you but it’s my turn, you’ve looked after the horse.’ ‘I don’t mind. I’m beginning to get the hang of it.’ He took the bucket and carefully filled the pot. ‘You’re totally out of character again, you know,’ said lord Brock. ‘You must not try to ease things. It’s an admirable trait in a servant but a great lord doesn’t need to do so, especially in a situation like this.’ ‘But a great lord who’s pretending to be a carter’s son?’ ‘He won’t be used to it, it’ll be the last thing he thinks of. Throw your weight around a bit, be difficult. After all, you’ve got something on your mind.’ ‘I’ve been meaning to ask you, what do I do when we find her? Pretend she’s mine?’ ‘No, she’ll never acknowledge you. After all, she doesn’t know you. I think it’d be best if we pretend it isn’t her you’re looking for. While you’re questioning everybody I will have the opportunity to try and win her confidence. If we need more time you can always pretend to be dissatisfied; claim you suspect that they’re keeping your son captive, holding him for ransom. And there’s another thing,’ he reached into an inner pocket, ‘here take this, it’s the carters’ badge.’ ‘What’s it for?’ ‘If I can’t get Auren safely away from here I may have to take her to the only safe place I know in this region, the carters’ so-called Secret Place. But if I go there our ways will have to part, yours and mine.’ ‘It is here in the badlands?’ ‘That’s right. It was shown to me many years ago by my carter friends. If you ask any carter—honest carter, not this lot—to take you to the Secret Place, showing him this badge, he’ll do so.’ ‘But if they all know that place then so will these people.’ ‘Of course, but it has one peculiarity: once you’ve closed and blocked the entrance no one will be able to open it from the outside.’ ‘Is it a cave?’ ‘No, it’s a tiny enclosed meadow, with a small stream running through it. With the travel biscuits we’d be able to hold out for quite a while. If they lay siege to us we’ll need some force to come and relieve us. You’d best go straight to Kerne and tell him where we are. He also knows the Secret Place, but only a carter could tell you the quickest way to it from the capital.’

❖ The next day, in the afternoon, they suddenly came upon the people they were looking for, encamped among the rocks. As Lord Brock halted the wagon some men came towards them, looking less than friendly. ‘What are you doing here?’ ‘Why, looking for you, of course. I’m Raldo, this is my son Silur.’ ‘And what do you want with us?’ ‘To join you. We’re just starting again and frankly, I’m fed up with turnips. The other groups didn’t look as if they’d get me very rich, so I decided our best chances were with you.’ ‘And why should we let you join us?’ ‘Let me get down first, will you? The horse’s tired.’ Grudgingly they made way for them. Milek looked round searchingly while the Manten lord began unharnessing the animal. Some youngsters and one or two women had come to look at them.

Suddenly Lord Brock saw Karan—no, Auren—near one of the carts. Their eyes met. He held his breath. She went pale and hung her head. He made no move towards her, just mechanically continued tugging at a buckle. After one more quick look she disappeared behind the wagon. He turned round. ‘Don’t stand there dreaming, Silur, get us some water.’ Milek remembered to glare at his command, but obeyed without a word. One of the men, Horden, showed him where to water and graze the horse. ‘Why are you starting again, at your age?’ ‘My son’s business went bust. He had a nice little trade in the city, but—’ he shrugged. ‘So you decided to get rich quick, with us.’ ‘You disapprove?’ Horden grinned. ‘As I said before: what’s in it for us?’ ‘I have a few contacts in the city, some inside information.’ ‘Like what?’ ‘Like the place where some noblemen’s sons meet when they’re planning mischief.’ ‘And why would we want to know that?’ ‘Because their fathers are rich and would pay handsomely for their return.’ ‘Why don’t you act on that yourself?’ inquired Horden. ‘I?’ Lord Brock laughed. ‘I’m an old man; struggling with youngsters is something I’ll gladly leave to you.’ ‘What about your son?’ ‘My son, well, as you’ve seen, he’s not the athletic type. Why don’t you talk it over with the others? If you won’t have us we’ll just find some other band.’ Milek returned with the water. ‘Thank you, son, I can do with some nice hot soup.’ He looked at Horden. ‘Will you join us?’ ‘No, thank you, I have some business elsewhere.’ They made a fire and hung the kettle of soup over it, with some added water. ‘Well?’ asked Milek softly. ‘She’s here. She didn’t betray me, thank goodness. Now, I’ve gained us some slight time with the carters, but I’ll have to work quickly.’ When the soup had been heated they sat beside the fire, eating it. ‘Look round at the youngsters,’ murmured the Manten lord. ‘In a little while you can get up and question them.’ ‘What do I say to—Karan?’ ‘Nothing special, unless she starts. Then—the truth. But beware of eavesdroppers.’ When the Naran had emptied his bowl he put it down and went over to a group of boys. Lord Brock gathered their bowls and took them, together with the pot, to the stream, making a detour to look at their horse and thus avoiding the boys. As he suspected, Auren was behind the last cart and he hailed her. ‘Come on, lad, give me a hand, you appear to have nothing to do. The water is cold to my old bones.’ She could not very well refuse and reluctantly took the pot he handed her. ‘Don’t be afraid, child,’ he murmured softly. ‘I will never harm you.’ She cast him a quick, guarded look, but said nothing till they knelt down at the water’s edge and set to work. ‘Why have you come?’ ‘Because I realised—too late—that you were Auren. Why didn’t you declare yourself?’ ‘We were never alone. And—and I wanted to see what you were like, first.’ She blushed and avoided his eyes, bending over the pot she was scrubbing. ‘And you didn’t like what you saw?’ he asked gently. ‘I—you’re cruel!’ she said accusingly. ‘You mean you saw the assassin.’ ‘That only made me realise it. You like torturing people! Killing them, or watching them killed. Like all those women of yours.’ ‘Don’t condemn me unheard, and don’t accuse me of my wife’s crimes.’ He flashed her a warning look. ‘People coming. Be very, very wary of them.’ She snorted. ‘That’s a cheap trick.’

‘If only it were.’ The people were coming within earshot. ‘My son has other business,’ he said sharply, ‘you won’t die of scrubbing a pot for me.’ Glowering she finished the job. ‘You don’t have a son,’ she muttered as they went back to the camp. ‘Not anymore. Who is he?’ ‘A friend. You can trust him.’ ‘I can’t trust anyone.’ Her voice trembled a little. ‘Pretend you trust them still, it’s important. Quiet now.’ Arrived at his cart he took the pot from her. ‘Thank you for your eager help.’ And added in a whisper, ‘At nightfall, the horse lines.’ Auren turned away abruptly. ‘Show some respect for your elders, lad,’ he called after her. She could really be very ill-mannered. A while later Milek returned. ‘The one wearing a tunic with a brown stripe, right?’ ‘Yes. Did you question her?’ ‘Just what I asked the others. She was quite shy.’ ‘She’s very confused. Heaven knows what people have been telling her. But she hasn’t rejected me completely. How about you, did you betray yourself to the carters?’ ‘Probably. How are we ever going to get out of here?’ ‘It won’t be easy. They’ve searched the cart already, during our absence.’

❖ When it got dark the horses were rounded up and picketed close by the camp, as there were some night-hunters still in the badlands. Lord Brock gave his horse some extra food, brushed its coat, looked at its hooves, till finally a dark shadow appeared near him. ‘Why should I pretend to trust them?’ ‘Does any of them know what you are?’ ‘Yes, one of the women. She told me I could come to her if I had—trouble.’ ‘Does any of them know who you are?’ ‘No, I told them I had no family left.’ ‘That’s something.’ He sighed. ‘Didn’t anyone from the other bands warn you against these people?’ ‘I’ve not spoken to others. The woman told me not to trust them.’ ‘Didn’t you ever hear of the trade in girls?’ Auren shrank back. ‘No! You’re lying!’ ‘If you’d really wanted to join any of the other bands I’d have let you, if that made you happy. You still can if you want to. But we must get you away from here before it’s too late.’ She began to cry softly. ‘I don’t know what to believe anymore.’ ‘Are you happy here?’ ‘I can do what I like, I think, but I’m lonely.’ She looked at him. ‘Did you really torture that man yourself?’ ‘Of course not, whoever told you a thing like that?’ ‘Someone in the kitchen, they told me in great detail, they seemed proud of your cruelty.’ ‘They were probably trying to scare you. Either that, or I have personnel that I can well do without.’ ‘What will you do to them?’ ‘They’re all family retainers, I won’t dismiss them, but they can join the army, the lowest ranks.’ ‘You reward them for their cruelty! Why not send them to the farms, that’s what my grandfather always does.’ ‘And have them be cruel to the farm animals? No, in the army they’ll have equals or superiors to deal with, that will teach them.’ Auren was silent for a little while. ‘Why didn’t you stop your wife from killing all the women?’ ‘And all the children,’ he added heavily. ‘It was her territory, and she used poison. It took me a while to realise that all those deaths couldn’t be natural. But even then . . . Do you know what a poison trial of a wife is like? It’s her word against that of the wise woman. Hardly any proof, everything dragged out in public. And even then she might claim the victims had been disobedient, or worse, and it was her right to punish them any way she liked. Oh, she knew how to hurt me.’ ‘And then you killed her, and your sons.’ ‘I did not kill my sons. They all had a public trial, and were condemned for their own actions.’ One of the horses whickered softly. ‘Go,’ he whispered and began brushing the tangles out of the horse’s tail. She

slipped away. ‘Why don’t you let your son do that?’ said Horden, appearing out of the dark. ‘He doesn’t have a feeling for horses.’ The Manten lord looked at the sky. ‘Is it this late? I’d forgotten the time. My son will have dinner ready, at least I hope so.’ He gave the horse a last pat and saw that Horden seemed inclined to linger. ‘Which cart is yours?’ he asked him. ‘The one with the red door.’ Together they walked back to the camp.

❖ ‘There really have been an awful lot of deaths around me,’ he said later to Milek while they were sitting by their fire. ‘This is Manten, and you are in a high position, inviting attempts to dislodge you. To say nothing of the Palay.’ ‘But how do I explain that to her?’ ‘Doesn’t she know what life is like here?’ ‘Who knows,’ he muttered sombrely. ‘Is it going that badly?’ ‘Not really, she listens to what I say. But whether she believes it—’ ‘If she—needs somewhere to recuperate,’ said Milek diffidently, ‘somewhere completely away from everything, Gerel and I will be happy to receive her in our house, for however long she needs.’ Lord Brock looked at him. ‘Thank you, my friend. I appreciate your offer. And now we must make some arrangements. The fact that they’ve stopped here in the middle of the day probably means this is the place where they are meeting whoever it is they are meeting, so they’ll want to confine her soon. We must act before that. Whatever happens, there may be some fighting and confusion and you and I may become separated. If we have to flee in different directions I suggest as meeting place the stream where the horse drank, last night. It’s some way off the track. You may want to steal one of their horses.’ ‘How long do we wait there for each other?’ ‘Let’s say for at most three days. After that each of us makes his way back to the capital as best he can. If she’s with me I may have to go to the Secret Place, she probably can’t ride. They’ll expect us to go back to the main road so in that case they will be off our backs for a while; not too long for they are excellent trackers. But if we do go there I need you to warn Kerne. Are you wearing my old ring?’ ‘I have it with me.’ ‘Good, show it to any postal station and they will give you a fresh horse, no questions asked. Now we’d better get some sleep ’

❖ The next morning after breakfast Lord Brock took Milek along when he went to put their horse in the meadow, so he would know where to find the animal in an emergency, and also to cast a look at the rest of the draught animals. ‘That bay horse over there is of good stock, wasted as cart horse I’d say. The sorrel with the white stockings isn’t too bad either. How are you at bareback riding?’ ‘I’ve done it occasionally.’ ‘Good, we may need to.’ When they came back to the wagons Lord Brock looked round, he had not seen Auren yet this morning. Taking their breakfast things to the stream he expected her to turn up but no one joined him. Thoughtfully he returned, and saw a group of carters, led by Horden, approaching them. ‘Come, we need to discuss something.’ It turned out to be a meeting of all the grown men of the camp. ‘That man isn’t a carter,’ were Horden’s first words, pointing at Milek. If the carters had expected to startle them they were disappointed. ‘I told him he couldn’t carry it off,’ said Lord Brock calmly. Milek looked annoyed. ‘You should have prepared me better, old man.’ ‘In six days? What did you expect?’ ‘Who is he?’ Horden interrupted them. ‘I’m Lord Silur. I am looking for my son.’ ‘Why come disguised?’ ‘I’ve heard stories about the carters. You hold our sons to ransom.’

‘Do we? Did you receive any ransom request?’ ‘Not yet, but I’ve been away from home for some days now.’ ‘Well, you’ll have seen that he isn’t here.’ ‘I’m not convinced. You may be keeping him prisoner in one of the carts, or someplace outside this camp. I intend to find him.’ Horden turned to Lord Brock. ‘What about you? Why did you play along with him?’ ‘Because he’s paying me, of course.’ ‘You would betray your own people to a townee?’ ‘I’m sure we would have reached a satisfactory arrangement.’ ‘What about the rest you said?’ ‘I meant it. If I stick with the others I’ll never get anywhere. I don’t like poverty.’ The argument went back and forth, the carters were very suspicious, but finally Horden got up. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘We’ll let you know what we decide. Your Lord Silur is free to look into all our carts, in the company of one of us. But we won’t allow him to interfere with any other business we may have.’ That seemed to conclude the meeting, rather suddenly. The men dispersed and went back to their own business. Horden beckoned a young man and brought him over to Milek. ‘This is my son, he’ll show you our carts.’ ‘Good luck,’ said Lord Brock cheerfully, but he was wondering if his friend shouldn’t have protested. While he was inside one of the carts they could easily move whatever they wanted to hide to a cart he had searched already. ‘Not very bright, that lordship your yours,’ remarked Horden. ‘He asked me to keep a lookout.’ ‘As I said, not very bright.’ It was a deliberate slur. Lord Brock gave him a measuring look. Horden was the leader here. ‘Is this the price I must pay for joining you?’ ‘Suit yourself.’ The other sauntered away. With a shrug the Manten nobleman dismissed it. He saw Milek come out of one cart and enter another. As he doubted the carters trusted him enough to move any captive youngsters while he was watching he set himself to do just that. After some time he saw movement from the corner of his eye, a youngster came running down a hill. One of the men seemed to give him a sign and the boy moved out of sight. Lord Brock pretended not to have noticed it. Had he been a lookout, did his hurried descent mean their awaited contacts were approaching? In that case his daughter might already have been secured somewhere. If only he had not left the camp this morning. But they would probably have found a way to hide her no matter what. Finally the Naran returned and sat down beside him. ‘Nothing,’ he said with dissatisfaction. ‘I’d have sworn Oske was here. I’m still not quite convinced.’ With an effort he assumed his Raldo personality. ‘Do you want to search the surroundings now, sir?’ That should get a rise from the carters. Milek nodded slowly. ‘Yes, we’d better. But I won’t have any of them as guide or we’ll be sure not to find anything. Damn it, Raldo, I’m getting seriously worried.’ ‘One of them is signalling me,’ muttered Lord Brock. Louder he continued, ‘One moment, lord, I have to see to something.’ He went over to the carter who brought him to Horden. ‘If you really want to join us there is something you can do for us now. Take that lordship of yours and keep him away from the camp for the next few hours. Find an excuse, a cave where his son might be hidden or something. But don’t spy on us.’ ‘All right. How long do you want us gone?’ ‘At least three to four hours, preferably most of the afternoon if you can manage it.’ ‘Yes, that should be no problem. If he gets very fanatic we may even be longer. Any direction we should avoid?’ The other hesitated. ‘Well, don’t go southwest of here.’ ‘Understood.’ He glanced over his shoulder but Milek was out of sight. ‘He mustn’t see us talking, he’s getting suspicious.’ ‘Right. You must get rid of him before you can join us. Better start thinking about a story to spin him.’ Horden turned and left.

‘What was that about?’ Milek asked distrustfully when he got back to him. ‘A new development, lord, but let’s go inside before we discuss it. We’ll have to get some provisions anyway.’ ‘Well?’ asked the Naran when they had entered the cart. ‘Anything wrong?’ ‘Yes! They’ve got her already, and heaven knows where. I think their contacts are approaching, they want me to keep you out of the way this afternoon. I’ve promised to lure you away with stories of a cave. Once we’re out of sight of the camp we must creep back and watch what is going on, and try and free her. I expect they’ll have someone follow us to prevent that so we’ll have to deal with him first. Whatever happens our cover will be blown and we’ll not be able to return here, so we must take as much provision along as we can without arousing suspicion. You go and pack it while I fill the water skin.’ Soon they set out in an easterly direction. ‘Our shadow will have to stay close or he’ll risk losing us in this terrain,’ said the Manten nobleman. ‘Let’s go there, between those two boulders.’ ‘Do you intend to kill him?’ asked his friend. ‘If necessary. Ah, good, bushes, you go on.’ He hid himself, armed with a stone. Milek made enough noise for two but no one appeared. Had their shadow taken another route after all? Had the carters neglected to send anyone? He was about to investigate when a slight sound made him freeze. A man slipped by. In the nick of time Lord Brock threw his stone, hitting the other in the neck; the carter fell forward. Quickly the Manten lord tied him to a tree with his belt and gagged him with strips torn from the man’s tunic. Then he went after Milek. A while later they were approaching the camp from the south. Some boulders on a hillside afforded them a place from which they could look down upon it. The first thing they noticed was a new cart, shorter than the other ones, and pulled by two mules. ‘There,’ whispered Lord Brock, ‘those fellows with black beards, they are Sartam. No pointed caps this time, perhaps they were warned about that.’ He peered. ‘I can’t see what it is they are handling.’ ‘Emeralds,’ said Milek. ‘Look, they’re holding them up to the light now. I noticed them when I searched the carts. Didn’t you mention your emerald mines were not as productive as they used to be?’ ‘Ah. And Sartam are especially fond of them. Something to do with their religion.’ The negotiations took some time, but after the stones had changed hands they saw a boy being brought from one of the carts, his hands were tied. ‘That’s not her is it?’ asked Milek. ‘No. That poor lad faces a dim future.’ When the boy had been examined and argued about, the two Sartam were taken into one of the carts.’ ‘Oh god,’ whispered Lord Brock. Suddenly they heard a wild scream, cut short. Not long afterwards the foreigners came out again, followed by Auren, in the grip of a carter. A quarrel seemed to break out between the two parties, voices were raised. Twice the Sartam made as if to depart. But in the end they paid the carters and hustled the two youngsters, both tied again, into their wagon. ‘Quickly now, they may depart at once.’ Cautiously they withdrew and went around to the southwest, where they found the track again. ‘Where do you want to attack them?’ ‘Out of hearing of the camp, but not too far away, there might be more of them further on. We can keep up with the mules, they won’t make them trot, the track is too bad.’ ‘It seems a long way for them to come, for just two youngsters.’ ‘This may not be their only meeting, just the most northerly one. And don’t forget the emeralds.’ ‘So you think more bands of carters may be involved?’ ‘I wouldn’t be surprised. That may have consequences once this lot realises what we know about them.’ The Sartam had not lingered, a few moments later they heard the cart approaching. From behind some bushes they watched it go past. Having waited till it was out of sight they followed after. ‘Won’t the track turn south again soon?’ asked Milek. ‘If we climb this hill we might gain upon them.’ ‘Better not, the road doesn’t swerve for nothing. We might end up losing our way and our quarry.’ A good half hour later, upon rounding a bend, they saw that the Sartam had stopped by a stream. They were filling water skins and allowing the mules to drink.

Taking cover behind the rocks and bushed bordering the track they approached as close as they could. Suddenly one of the Sartam noticed them. With a cry he alerted his comrade. Both faced them now, hands on their weapons. ‘What do you want? Why do you sneak up on us?’ asked one in heavily accented Common. ‘I want what was stolen from me.’ ‘We did not steal, old man.’ ‘Do you think those carters sold you their own children?’ The Sartam grinned. ‘How do we know what your customs are?’ He said something to his companion who stepped back and went towards the cart. Swiftly Lord Brock drew a knife and threw it, hitting him in the shoulder, he stumbled. With a snarl the first one drew his dagger. Milek and Lord Brock ran forward, the latter with a new knife in his hand. It was a fierce fight, the two Sartam now stood back to back and gave as good as they got, even the injured man. With a sudden swift stroke Lord Brock dispatched his opponent and before the second one could turn he killed him as well. Milek was shocked. ‘I was trying to disarm him.’ ‘I could not let them live, they were enemies, possibly spies. Dragging them along as prisoners is impossible, and leaving them here fettered would have meant starvation for them.’ He wiped his knife, went over to the cart and opened the door. ‘Father!’ cried Auren. He heaved a sigh of relief. ‘Yes.’ She and the boy were the only occupants. Quickly he cut their bonds. ‘Are you all right?’ She nodded. He looked inquiringly at the boy. ‘Yes, they did not hurt us.’ ‘Good. I don’t want to linger here. We might as well use this cart to go back, at least for the first part of the journey. Come, help us with the mules.’ With some difficulty they managed to turn the cart in the narrow track, facing north again. ‘I don’t want to go back inside,’ said Auren. ‘Then come and sit on the driving-seat.’ ‘Sir,’ said the boy, ‘you might want to take a look at that chest in the corner. The taller of the two men had the key to it.’ ‘All right, get me that key then.’ It proved to be the place where the Sartam kept their valuables. Lord Brock retrieved the emeralds and some documents. ‘The money’s too heavy to carry along once we leave this cart. If you want you can take of it what you like, lad. By the way what’s your name?’ ‘I’m Lony. Thank you, sir, my family could use it.’ ‘Right, we can talk later.’ He climbed onto the driving-seat and sat next to Auren. ‘Ah, bows and arrows. I was right not to let that fellow go back to the cart.’ He shook the reins and the mules set off. ‘Do you think the carters will have broken camp?’ asked Milek, walking beside them. ‘Unlikely, this late in the day. Besides, we have not returned, nor has our shadow. If they’ve found him by now they will be thoroughly alert. I plan to abandon this cart before we reach the campsite, and strike out through the wilds.’ ‘Do you believe they will be dangerous to us?’ ‘Once they realise how much we know, certainly. They don’t want any witnesses to their crimes, and we can identify them.’ ‘What if we whip up the mules and storm past the camp?’ asked Lony. ‘Firstly they’ll hear us coming, and secondly they will jump on their horses and catch up easily.’ ‘And without the cart, might the mules then be swifter than their horses?’ ‘Not these two, you can forget about that. But it would be another thing if you managed to steal say two horses, spook the rest of the herd and gallop off.’ ‘Great!’ the boy’s eyes shone. ‘But why only two horses? There are four of us.’ ‘Because my daughter and I will be going another way. Milek, you know where I will be heading, do you want to help Lony or go your own way? You know I am counting on you, should it be necessary.’ ‘I’ll go with the boy. I can show him where the horses are.’ ‘Oh I know that, they didn’t lock me up till this morning.’

‘And until then you’d no idea what their plans with you were?’ ‘No, and—I’m still not quite sure. Who were these men?’ ‘They were Sartam.’ ‘Sartam? All the way here? But I’ve heard that they cut off your—’ he stopped and swallowed. ‘Those rotten bastards!’ he exploded. ‘Selling me to the Sartam! I thought I could trust the carters!’ ‘Most of them are trustworthy, but not all. I assume you’d run away from home?’ Lony looked rather sheepish. ‘Yes. I’d quarrelled with my father. It seems a bit silly now.’ ‘Well, if you two want some rest before your horse adventure, hop into the cart while we still have it.’ Taking the hint Milek beckoned Lony and they went inside. ‘What will happen now?’ asked Auren. ‘Why are we going back to the carters’ camp?’ ‘This is the only road back. But before we reach them you and I will leave it, as I said. Can you ride a horse?’ ‘No. You mean there really are women who can?’ ‘Oh yes, but mostly those living in the country. No matter, these mules don’t have the best build to be ridden anyway. That means we’ll have to walk, it’s a good thing you’re still wearing boys’ clothes. I’m sorry I was too late this morning to prevent you being captured.’ ‘They—it happened when I was still asleep.’ She shivered. ‘If I hadn’t known you were near . . . ’ ‘I would have brought a lot more men if I’d known you had fallen into the hands of people like this. As it is we’ll have to make our way to a safe place I know of, not too far from here. Even if the carters pursue us they won’t be able to get at us there. I hope they will be distracted by Milek and Lony and the horses, but we must not forget they are experienced trackers.’ ‘I thought Milek was dead.’ He looked at her in surprise. ‘What do you know of Milek?’ The girl blushed. ‘I—I listened to everything that was told about you. And at one time they talked rather a lot about this slave you had brought from Skipet. They said—’ she faltered and looked at the ground, turning even redder. Her father was amused. ‘I know what was said about us.’ ‘Mother always said that couldn’t be true,’ she continued hurriedly. ‘But anyway, later I heard that this Milek had been abducted by foreigners, and killed.’ ‘And are they still talking about him?’ ‘No, I haven’t heard his name mentioned in years.’ ‘He wasn’t abducted, he escaped. At the time he was falsely accused of sacrilege so I gave out he had been killed. Later I offered him a job as mining representative. His real name, by the way, is Jerron.’ ‘Jerron,’ she mused. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve heard of him too.’ ‘Just the name. But—isn’t he a Naran?’ He laughed. ‘They really do know everything, at the other side. Yes, it’s a long story, I’ll tell you later.’ They continued in silence for a while, then he brought out the documents he had found in the Sartam cart. ‘I’d better see what these are about.’ After glancing through the papers he grunted and put them away again. ‘What are they?’ asked Auren. ‘Espionage. I wonder where the Sartam got them. If it was from the carters . . . ’ He looked up and halted the mules. ‘I think it’s time we abandoned the cart.’ Milek and Lony descended, together they backed the cart into the bushes and began unharnessing the animals. ‘Perhaps you’d better tell Lony where my daughter and I are going,’ said Lord Brock to his friend. ‘In case you get separated.’ ‘Or injured, yes. Are you going to take the mules?’ ‘I thought to use them to conceal our tracks.’ He turned. ‘Lony, if ever you need a job you come and see me.’ At that moment one of the animals threw up its head and made a loud noise, and was answered from close by. A man on horseback came round a bend of the track, took one look at them, turned about and galloped back. ‘That was one of them!’ exclaimed Lony. ‘We must split up now!’ said the nobleman.

‘Here’s your food,’ Milek handed him the sack and the water skin. ‘What about you?’ ‘We found some inside the cart. Lony’s got it.’ ‘Thank you. Wait.’ Lord Brock took out the documents he had found in the cart and gave two of them to Milek. ‘Here, show them to Kerne. It is proof the Sartam were not just slave traders. Well, good luck to both of you.’ He shouldered the provisions. ‘Auren, this way.’ Leading the mules they left the track while the other two went in the opposite direction. The animals were fractious and after a short while Lord Brock sent them on their way with a few slaps on their hindquarters. ‘Come, the ground is stony here, we must get as far away from this place as possible without leaving tracks.’ They walked in silence, making sure not to show up against the sky, until the sun began to set. Then he found them a sheltered place among the bushes. Auren sank down upon the ground, crushing the low vegetation. ‘Won’t this show up when we’re gone?’ ‘Undoubtedly, if they find it. But it’s either that or sleeping on the bare rock, and as we still have a fair distance to go we need our rest.’ ‘How far away is this place where we are going?’ ‘I’m not quite sure, from here, but I think it is more than a day’s walk.’ She nodded. He gave her the water skin and some food. She drank and munched a bit. He noticed she seemed much more strained than before. What might she have been imagining during their walk? ‘Did you join the carters hoping that I’d come for you, or were you planning to stay with them?’ he asked to draw her out. ‘I hadn’t thought you would come for me, you didn’t know who I was. I—it was just a place to go, I needed time to think what to do with my life now that I’d run away from you as well,’ she regarded him shyly. ‘I want you to know that you are very welcome to come and live with me. You have my word that I won’t force you into anything you do not want.’ Some of the tension left her. ‘Thank you.’ ‘What is troubling you?’ ‘Nothing.’ ‘You were rather more forthcoming when we talked in the camp,’ he observed lightly. She drew breath. ‘At that time I didn’t care what you thought of me.’ ‘Don’t worry about that, we’ll get to know each other soon enough.’ He sighed. ‘I had the same scruples once, it was when my grandson came to live with me. You doubtlessly know about him.’ ‘Torme.’ ‘Yes. I feared he might be disappointed in me when, growing up, he found out what my business really was. So I tried to hide the worst of it from him, I broke with the Palay, I didn’t accept abductions and suchlike assignments any more. And I sought, and found, new ways for Manten to prosper. All of which was no doubt good for our people too, but that was by the way.’ He paused. ‘And now I find I have a daughter who knows the blackest side of my deals, of my reputation, and possibly of my character. Who has seen sights I would not allow Torme to see. I can understand it if you are disappointed in me.’ ‘I—I don’t really know you. I—let’s not judge each other yet.’ ‘As you wish. Now you’d better get what rest you can, child. I will warn you if there’s danger, I am a light sleeper.’ She curled up beside him, but it was a long time before her breathing told him she was asleep. He himself dozed fitfully.

❖ Milek and Lony were looking down on the encampment. Only now, in the growing dark, some measure of calm had returned there. After a lot of galloping up and down the road and of searching the brushwood on either side of it the carters had given up for the moment and were concentrating on the Sartam wagon which had been brought back to the camp. They could see there were arguments going on. ‘They’re probably debating whether they should try and find those two Sartam, or divide the money from their cart among themselves,’ grinned Lony.

‘Listen, I must tell you something,’ Milek said to him. ‘If we get separated, or I get killed or something, you must go to Sir Kerne, in the capital, and tell him Lord Brock has gone to the Secret Place and may be besieged there.’ The boy looked mystified. ‘Lord Brock?’ ‘Didn’t you know it was he who freed you? He just called himself Raldo.’ ‘That was Lord Brock?’ Lony whistled softly. Suddenly there was a cry. In the deepening twilight three men came into the camp, carrying a fourth; by the way his head hung it was clear he was dead. ‘That must be the man they sent to shadow us,’ whispered Milek. ‘Lord Brock must have hit him too hard.’ ‘Now they’ll be after us in earnest.’ ‘But not tonight, it is too dark to find our tracks. I would like us to draw them off. I don’t think that girl is used to long hikes in rough terrain. Are you still willing to do that stunt with the horses?’ ‘Sure! Only—if anything happens to me, can you let my family know?’ He explained where they lived. When it had grown almost completely dark they cautiously descended and went towards the horse lines. The animals became restive but they calmed them with soft words. One by one they cut them loose; Milek tried to find the horses Lord Brock had recommended but it was too dark to recognise them. ‘Hey, what’s going on there!’ a voice called out. Hastily Milek and Lony each scrambled onto a horse and started shouting and driving the rest of the animals away. When more carters came running they kicked their horses into a gallop, upon which most of the herd joined them. They held on as best they could on the broad draught animals while they thundered down the track. When finally the horses, unused to such speed, tired and slowed down they had covered a considerable distance. ‘We’d better get off the track,’ suggested Milek. There was no vegetation here so they directed their stumbling mounts into a gulley until they were out of sight and dismounted. ‘Do you want to spend the rest of the night here?’ asked Lony. ‘Hush.’ Far away they heard hoofbeats, approaching rapidly. ‘A pity we didn’t get all the horses loose.’ The men called to each other when they came upon the exhausted herd. There seemed to be only three of them and they were soon busy rounding up the horses. ‘Mine is not among them,’ one of the carters cried. ‘Then they must have stolen it. No use looking for it now. Come, we need to get this lot back to the camp.’ ‘I’ll stay here, they can’t be far.’ ‘Fool, do you want to get yourself killed too? Besides, we need you to help drive these horses.’ ‘We should have brought ropes,’ grumbled the other. ‘Well why didn’t you?’ Slowly the voices receded. Lony’s horse suddenly decided it wanted to follow them. They struggled wildly but it managed to pull the halter rope free and ran off. Milek was only just able to prevent his own horse from following it or neighing. They waited a while but all remained quiet. ‘Well, I suppose this one is big enough to carry us both,’ said Milek. ‘But for the moment we’d better walk beside it.’ He led the animal back to the track. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t keep hold of my horse,’ Lony sounded dejected. ‘Never mind, we’re well on our way now.’

❖ Suddenly Lord Brock was startled awake by some sound. Without moving he looked round. A few animals fled past, swerving as they caught their scent. There was a rustling in the bushes not far away. Then his nose caught a whiff of odour and he relaxed: a fox. The girl had not woken, she had had an enervating day. Already the sky was getting light, soon they should be getting on their way. Was he over-cautious, fleeing with Auren to the Secret Place? Would the carters really be after them, or would they simply shrug and carry on with their business? But he remembered they could be very touchy

and quick to anger where their own affairs were concerned. There were stories of feuds going on for many years. With a sigh he sat up and tapped the girl on the shoulder. Auren stirred and was then suddenly very still. ‘Time to get up,’ he told her. His back hurt atrociously. She relaxed and rose, brushing dead leaves and debris from her clothes. After a frugal meal they set out again. They now took less trouble to hide their tracks. ‘Speed is more important than stealth, at the moment,’ he explained. ‘If the carters can be that dangerous, why didn’t we stay together?’ ‘For one thing, the four of us would have left tracks no carter could miss. For another, once we’re inside the Secret Place they may lay siege to us, so Milek is going to warn Kerne, a friend of mine, to come with armed men to relieve us.’ ‘And what if they don’t lay siege to us?’ ‘Then we’ll at least have a good escort home.’ For a while they walked in silence. ‘How can you find your way about, here?’ Auren asked then. ‘I know the general direction we must go. Soon we should strike the only decent river here and then all we have to do is follow it upstream till I recognise the landmarks, it’s near some conspicuous cliffs.’ When a few hours later they reached the river they halted to drink and refresh themselves. Then Lord Brock emptied the water skin to reduce the weight, now that they were assured of a plentiful supply of water, and they went on again. He noticed his daughter was looking tired. ‘Just a little further and then we’ll take a rest.’ ‘I’ll manage,’ Auren sounded stubborn. ‘Good girl.’ She seemed absurdly grateful for his praise, he recognised a case of hero-worship. He must take care not to overtax her. They walked for most of the day, with a few breaks. Towards evening Auren began to limp and Lord Brock found them a shallow cave in which to spend the night. He filled the water skin, took it inside and got them some travel biscuits. But Auren shook her head. ‘I’m not hungry.’ ‘You must eat before you go to sleep, especially after this long walk.’ ‘I feel a bit sick.’ ‘You must be overtired then. All right, just drink some water and go to sleep. I’ll wake you later for the food. But first let me take a look at your feet.’ She winced as he took off her shoes. ‘As I thought,’ he grunted. ‘You’re not used to walking, are you?’ With a liberal amount of water he washed and cooled her feet. ‘Now I’ll go and see what healing herbs I can find.’ He went outside again and tried to remember the simple remedies they had used when they were on campaign. It was to be hoped some of the plants grew near here. When he returned with his harvest Auren was fast asleep. He made two wads of herbs and moss and tore strips off his tunic to tie them to her feet. She woke with a start when he took hold of her ankle. ‘Calm down. This should help.’ She pushed a hand through her hair and watched him tie the pads in place. ‘Thank you—father.’ ‘A pleasure, daughter,’ he smiled at her. ‘Ready for some food now?’ ‘Yes,’ she sounded surprised. ‘Yes, I am.’

❖ Milek and Lony were riding the horse; they had left the badlands behind them, there was farmland on both sides of the road. ‘Would you happen to know where the nearest postal station is?’ the Naran asked. Suddenly they heard horses behind them, coming at speed. One glance told them enough. Immediately Lony pulled the horse’s head around and made the animal go straight into a corn-field. Together they forced it into a gallop. ‘Help!’ the boy cried. ‘Murder! Help!’ A number of field workers came running. Behind them they heard their pursuers falter and slow down.

The farmer was furious. ‘Get out of the field! Don’t trample my crop!’ ‘I knew that would fetch them in a hurry,’ murmured Lony. He turned and pointed at the carters. ‘Those people want to kill us!’ ‘Do they! If they dare come into my corn—!’ But the carters thought better of it, they turned and rode off. ‘Now come out of that field you two, there’s a path here. Right. Now why would they want to kill you, did you steal that horse?’ ‘In that case they wouldn’t have fled from you,’ said Milek. ‘They wanted to stop us from making their crimes known.’ ‘Some crimes that must be,’ scoffed the farmer. ‘Carters,’ Lony told him, ‘selling the youngsters that come to them to the Sartam.’ The other was staggered. ‘To the Sartam!’ Then he looked suspicious. ‘How do you know?’ ‘I was one of their victims. He helped set me free.’ ‘We must get word to the capital,’ said Milek. ‘Where is the nearest postal station?’ ‘That way. Take the first road to the left. Wait.’ He turned. ‘Jarram, get the two horses. You take them to the postal station and then bring our horses back.’ One of the field workers ran to the farm buildings. ‘That nag of yours will go faster with only one man on its back.’ They expressed their gratitude to the farmer and were soon on their way again. ‘It’s a pity the carters have seen there are only two of us here,’ said Milek.

❖ It was well into the afternoon when Lord Brock finally saw the cliffs he had been looking out for. They had travelled much slower this day but even so Auren looked close to exhaustion. To help in the uneven terrain he had got them each a stick. ‘We are nearly there,’ he told her, ‘I am going to take a look, you stay here.’ As she nodded at him she did not watch her footing and sank down with a soft cry. Immediately het was by her side. ‘What is it?’ ‘My ankle, I twisted it.’ She bit her lip with the pain. ‘Don’t try to stand on it. Give me your sash.’ When she had taken it off he dipped the cloth into the river and then wrapped it tightly round her ankle. ‘Well, it’s a good thing this didn’t happen earlier.’ ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘Never mind, it can happen to anyone. Just wait here till I get back.’ He got up and patted her shoulder, and felt her start a little. That was strange. The valley where the entrance was located looked deserted. Carefully he made his way round one side of it. There were places enough where people could hide. Suddenly he heard the snorting of a horse and froze. The big animal came out of the bushes and approached him, it was trailing a rope. As it began nuzzling him he recognised it: their own horse. Had it given him away? But though he heard other horses nearby no people appeared. He took hold of the rope and went to look for the other animals. There were two more of them, both still tied to some bushes. So three of the carters were nearby, hidden somewhere, most likely in the Secret Place itself. He pondered. Simply leaving was out of the question. Even if Auren had not twisted her ankle she was not up to another hike through the badlands. How to get those carters out and themselves inside? The first thing to do was to get the girl and hide her as near the entrance as possible. She would be able to run a short distance with her bandaged ankle. Getting her here was going to be unexpectedly easy. He led the horse to the place where he had left his daughter. ‘Auren,’ he called softly when they got near, so she would know it was him. The bushes rustled as she sat up and looked round. ‘A horse?’ ‘Yes, three of the carters are probably inside, I’ll try to drive them out. They left their horses outside to graze. Now I’m going to put you on its back. It’s got a strap tied round its rump, you can keep hold of that, or its mane. We’ll go slowly.’ She got up, keeping the weight off her injured leg. ‘Stand still, my boy,’ he told the horse, and lifted her on to its back. ‘Try to hold on to him with your legs, though he is a bit broad for you.’ He moved the animal a few steps. ‘All right?’ She was grabbing the mane tightly. ‘Yes.’ The entrance to the Secret Place was at a slightly higher level, though the climb was not too steep.

Auren slid about a little but did not fall off. They halted by some big rocks near a cave entrance and he lifted her down. ‘This looks like a cave,’ he said softly, ‘but actually it’s a short tunnel. I am going to drive the horses in to create confusion and force the carters out. ‘You stay hidden here till you see all three of them come out, and then go inside as quickly as you can. I’ll leave our sticks and the food with you for now while I fetch the other two horses.’ He gave her the rope. ‘Hold on to this one.’ The two animals followed him easily enough. When he came back he saw that Auren had managed to shoulder the bag with their provisions. ‘Good thinking. Now hand me my stick, please.’ The tunnel was barely high enough for the horses and they were a bit spooked. Arrived at the end he felt the rock; it took him a moment to find the right place to apply pressure. Then, suddenly, the boulder pivoted away. Immediately he chased the horses through the narrow opening, shouting and waving his arms to make them panic. He heard a surprised shout and ran out into the tiny meadow beyond. One man stood gaping at the horses while two others came running. With a blow of his stick he felled the first man and turned. The other two had drawn their knives. Quickly he sidestepped and one of the weapons flew past him. With an oath the carter picked up a branch while the other man moved in. Lord Brock had barely enough time to take a swipe at him, then the bushy end of the branch was pushed into his face. He struck at their legs, causing one of them to fall, and then hit the knife man squarely in the stomach. As the second man scrambled up he swung the stick at the side of his head. Without giving them time to recover he drove them to the tunnel, raining blows on them. Suddenly he heard hoofbeats behind him and sprang aside. The man he had felled earlier had managed to get on to one of the horses and tried to ride him down, dragging a second horse along. But he miscalcu-lated at the entrance of the tunnel, hit his head and fell off. Shouting and using his stick Lord Brock drove the horses into the tunnel. The other two men had to run before the frightened animals or be trampled. ‘Auren, come!’ he cried the moment the tunnel was free, and went to help the girl run inside. ‘Only two men came out,’ she panted. ‘I know.’ The tunnel seemed very long this time. Just inside the Secret Place they found the third man, lying motionless. Lord Brock simply dragged him into the tunnel and then moved the pivot boulder into place, wedging it with some stones lying ready. ‘Was he dead?’ asked the girl. ‘I don’t know. If he isn’t, his comrades can take care of him.’ He stood for a moment, catching his breath. ‘I haven’t done so much running and fighting in years. Well, that was fun.’ She looked up at him. ‘Fun?’ ‘Yes. Finally some action after all this walking and hiding. I thought you yourself were not averse to action either.’ She considered. ‘I believe so, though not all of it is quite as I had expected.’ She got up, leaning heavily on her stick. ‘Does your ankle hurt much?’ The girl nodded. ‘A bit.’ Suddenly her face lit up. ‘Oh, the horse.’ Looking round Lord Brock saw the animal watching them with ears pointed. ‘And it is our own horse too. Clever boy, not letting that fellow capture you.’ He smiled. ‘We’d better leave him alone till he’s calmed down a bit. Now if you’ll take off the bandage I’ll soak it and wrap your foot up again.’ The streamlet welled up near the rock wall opposite the tunnel, and disappeared again in a crevice further on. After he had drunk he filled the water skin, soaked the bandage and returned to his daughter. The ankle was already swelling. ‘Well, it’s fortunate we’re having such a warm summer,’ he said as he bound it. ‘That overhang there to the right is all the protection against the elements we have. The last time I was here we had at least tents.’ ‘When was that?’ ‘Many years ago, during the wars. I and my whole company hid in here, till the enemy thought we were far away. Then we came out and defeated him.’ ‘How did you know about this place?’ ‘I had made friends among the carters, gained their confidence. Yes, I won that war because I was willing to listen to them, when they were disdained by all others. And more, I was willing to listen to one of their women.’

‘Who was she?’ ‘Their leader. I had helped her people a few times, and then, when we were in difficulties, she showed me this place and how to close it off.’ Wearily they ate a little. It was good to know they had arrived, that tomorrow their abused feet, their abused bodies, would get some rest. After an undisturbed night they woke refreshed. ‘It is odd, you know,’ said Lord Brock, eyeing his travel biscuit. ‘I’m beginning to wish we’d brought some turnips.’ Auren laughed. ‘Your cargo. Do you mean you ate them day in, day out?’ ‘More or less. Add to that our lack of cooking skills—’ ‘Well perhaps those carters left something behind. They had been staying in here somewhere.’ ‘That is a very good idea. I’ll take a look around.’ And indeed, not far from the entrance he found a small store of food, and also some firewood. Later Auren used both their walking sticks to support herself as they took a proper look at their hiding place. ‘It’s wonderful, almost a perfect circle.’ Then she became worried. ‘But won’t they be able to climb in over the sides?’ ‘Hardly, it’s extremely steep on the outside as well, and the travellers have done their best, over the years, to make it as inaccessible as possible.’ The horse came to take a look at them and they made much of the animal. ‘He is much friendlier than the ones at the camp,’ said the girl. ‘He’s lonely, of course. They like company; if there are no other horses humans will do.’ ‘Will there be enough grass for him in here?’ ‘I hope so, it depends on how long we’ll be here.’ ‘What if there isn’t?’ ‘If we’re hungry by that time we can always kill and eat him.’ ‘No!’ Startled by her exclamation the horse threw up its head and retreated a few paces. ‘You’re soft-hearted, it would be the most logical thing to do.’ He smiled. ‘But if at all possible I will open the entrance and send him outside.’ She looked at him searchingly for a few moments. ‘How long do you think it will be before your people get here.’ ‘That will depend on the Council. They will need to give permission.’ ‘Why?’ ‘Because the troops will have to cross the lands of several nobles to get here. Some will object.’ ‘When you told me that Milek would warn Kerne I thought there wasn’t much of a problem.’ ‘Those papers I gave him should help. I just hope he doesn’t feel called upon to testify in person.’ Auren looked surprised. ‘Would that be bad?’ ‘Not so much for us as for him. Some of the Council Members have long memories, especially those whose sons were stripped of rank, honour and right of inheritance after that affair with the Victory Goblet. And I won’t be there to protect him.’ ‘But if he knows that, would he take the risk?’ ‘I fear he may. Few people appreciate how brave he is.’ Silently they went back to the overhang where they had made their camp. ‘What happens if Kerne can’t get the Council’s permission?’ ‘Then he will still come with my troops. But afterwards there will be major trouble, possibly even civil war.’ Auren flinched. ‘All that, just because of me?’ He frowned. ‘No. Because of those damned carters! You did nothing wrong, my child, whereas their crimes are unconscionable. It comes down to colluding with the enemy, even if they may not have realised the consequences of what they did. And if some nobles are too stupid to see this I’ll soon put them right.’ He took a deep breath. ‘So we’ll be together here for some time. Tell me, why did you never contact me before? My wife died more than ten years ago.’ ‘I think they dared not. My mother had been out of your house for so long, they were afraid of your reaction.’ He sighed. ‘You wrote that she died a few months back.’ ‘Yes. She had always protected me from my grandfather’s plans. Of course after her death there was no

proof any more of whose child I was. Mine was just a story.’ ‘How long have you known?’ ‘When I was small my mother fell ill, it was quite serious. One day she called me to her and told me, swearing me to deepest secrecy. I later realised she thought she was going to die. But fortunately she recovered again. From then on, when the other children teased me that I had no father, I didn’t mind anymore, I knew. It was then that I began to listen for anything that was said about you, to collect any scrap of information I could find. Of course I couldn’t distinguish between gossip and the truth. So when I heard unpleasant things I told myself it was lies, or that circumstances had forced you to do such things, or that they’d misunderstood it. I became quite good at inventing excuses.’ She did not look at him. ‘And then the people in my castle convinced you that the worst stories you’d heard about me were true after all.’ She nodded. ‘I wasn’t sure of anything anymore. I suddenly realised I didn’t know you at all, that I’d made up some fantasy figure, that you might be quite different.’ ‘So you ran away again.’ ‘Yes. It was stupid of course, I should have stayed and tried to find out the truth. But I was so dis-appointed. And I was also beginning to fear that the other servants would discover I was a girl.’ She stared out over the meadow without seeing it. ‘I really should have told you that first day, when there were only two other people present. But I was so embarrassed, I’d no idea how you would react.’ She hesitated. ‘Do you—mind very much?’ ‘Mind what? That I have a daughter, or that you didn’t declare yourself at once? The latter is under-standable, and the former—is an unlooked-for joy. The only thing I mind is that we did not meet much earlier.’

❖ The journey back to town had been easy. Thanks to Lord Brock’s ring the postal stations had given them horses without asking questions. Milek and Lony went straight to Kerne’s house and fortunately found him at home. ‘Anything wrong?’ he asked when they had been shown in. ‘He is not with you?’ ‘No, the group of carters we pursued turned out to be criminals, slave traders, possibly spies. When they realised we knew about it we had to split up.’ ‘You abandoned him?’ The grey eyes glared at Milek in anger. ‘He has taken her to the Secret Place, but they will probably be besieged there and need relieving. I have brought you the carter’s badge.’ Milek took it out and handed it over. ‘I’m sorry, forgive me. So he did meet those renegade carters I was told about?’ ‘Yes, they sell the youngsters to the Sartam.’ ‘What?!’ ‘Lony here was one of their victims. And the Sartam also had espionage documents, we’re not sure who gave those to them.’ ‘But possibly those same carters. And you left him alone there, with that lot?’ Kerne looked exasperated ‘The stubborn fool, he still thinks he’s invulnerable!’ Then he became diffident. ‘So he—found what he was looking for?’ ‘Yes, did you meet her?’ Beside him Lony choked. ‘Did I what?!’ ‘The boy who brought the message, that was her, in disguise.’ ‘We do not talk about such things outside the family, in Manten,’ said Kerne stiffly. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you felt so strongly about it.’ The other frowned. ‘I do not like gossip about the honour of my friend’s house.’ ‘Of course. I won’t mention it again,’ said Milek calmly. Kerne narrowed his eyes. ‘You’ve changed.’ ‘Will you be able to depart at once?’ ‘Unfortunately not, I’ll first need the permission of several nobles to cross their lands with the troops. The quickest way to arrange that will be through the Council, I’ll set things in motion. Meanwhile you are both my guests.’ He looked at the boy. ‘Lony, you said? Are you from here?’ ‘A farm south of town, sir.’ ‘I’ll have your family informed, please give the location of the farm to my man here.’

❖ They met again after the evening meal. ‘The Council will see me tomorrow,’ said Kerne, ‘and I’ve sent word to the troops.’ ‘But surely,’ said Lony, ‘there can only be lands of one, or at most two nobles, between here and the badlands.’ ‘You’re right, but the troops are not stationed here, they must cross the lands of two more nobles to get where we need them.’ ‘Do you expect problems in getting permission?’ asked Milek. ‘Yes, the Council will not be very eager to rescue him. Whenever he’s been away for any length of time he has a job regaining his former position.’ ‘But isn’t this of concern to all of them, at least to those who have children? To say nothing of the espio-nage.’ ‘I hope I can convince them of that.’ ‘Would it help if I told them about it, having been there?’ Kerne considered. ‘It might, especially if you take Lony along. He is too young to testify in the Council, at least on his own. Only, they might recognise you, some of them. I don’t think you were ever formally cleared of that sacrilege affair.’ ‘Well is there anything else we can do? We can’t leave them to starve in that place. Those carters know they didn’t come with Lony and me.’ ‘And they can’t have reached the Secret Place without leaving a trail.’ Kerne pondered, scowling. Milek knew there was a risk, but how could he abandon his friend and the girl? He took a deep breath. ‘I’ll speak to the Council.’ The other looked concerned. ‘If you do, you’d better disguise yourself. It’s a good thing your real name is different.’ ‘Are you willing, Lony?’ The boy nodded eagerly. ‘All right, where can I get a beard?’ Kerne snorted. ‘You’ve been seeing too much of him, some of his foolhardiness has rubbed off. Well, if you’re sure I will inform the Council.’

❖ ‘Had you always intended to bring that letter yourself?’ asked Lord Brock. They were sitting on the grass, in the sun. ‘No, I had meant to ask our wise woman. But I didn’t quite dare somehow, though I trusted her. I carried that letter around with me for days. You see, I wasn’t supposed to know about the negotiations. One of the other girls had hinted about it, out of spite. The man they were going to give me to has a very bad reputa-tion.’ She shivered. ‘When I found out who it was they had intended me for I wrote that letter. I knew I had no proof of my identity but I was desperate. Anything was better than . . . But then I began to wonder whether the wise woman might be involved in the negotiations. She must surely have been aware of them, and yet she never warned me. ‘Then one day I found out, quite by accident, that I would be handed over the very next day. That’s when I dressed in men’s clothing and ran away.’ ‘Were they so easy to come by?’ Auren smiled. ‘When I was small my mother got me some boys’ clothes and allowed me to play with the children in the street. It is not uncommon; not all the little boys you see in the streets are boys. Later, when I outgrew them, I wasn’t allowed in the street anymore. But I managed to get other boys’ clothes, a discarded tunic here, an old pair of trousers there, and occasionally sneaked out of the house again. The scruffier I looked, the less attention people paid to me. I could only do this because of my low position, of course, the other girls were watched much more closely. How often I’ve wished I were a boy. And when I couldn’t lay my hands on clothes my size any more I made them, secretly.’ ‘What was your childhood like; were you treated badly?’ ‘No, I can’t say that I was. I had the same education as the other girls but I was never as closely supervised. I don’t think they would have minded if I’d had an accident. I was a bit of an embarrassment to them; they could name neither my mother nor my father. That meant I was never taken anywhere or allowed to meet visitors. Later they tried to pass me of as the child of my grandfather by some servant. That upset me, rather, and mother even more.

‘But not being kept very strict had its advantages of course. I had much more freedom than the other girls, they were frequently jealous about it. One of them tried to make me her servant once and we had a fight. I was punished, but I believe mother spoke to grandfather and threatened him. No one ever tried to do that to me again. ‘Much of my time I spent with mother. She could never show herself outside the house either, or to visitors. But together we laughed a lot. No, I was not unhappy.’ ‘I won’t be able to offer you all the things you’ve been used to,’ said Lord Brock slowly. ‘There is no one approaching your age in the women’s side of my house, except possibly one or two of the serving girls. There are, indeed, very few people. I have three women at the moment, and then there’s my daughter-in-law, Torme’s mother. Apart from the wise woman and the servants that’s all.’ Auren looked thoughtful. ‘I hadn’t realised that.’ ‘Of course your position will be much better, being the daughter of the house and my only surviving child. And you can have what servants you like.’ He looked at her. ‘But I promised you I wouldn’t force you into anything. If you really want to join the carters—not this group of course—you can. I have friends among them still, they would make you welcome.’ She shook her head. ‘No. I am sure they are good people, but I’d be the odd one out again.’ ‘And then I’ve had a second offer for you.’ He saw a look of alarm cross her face. ‘No, it’s nothing to worry about. Milek said that if you wanted to get away from it all, for a while, after your adventures, you could go and stay with him and his wife. They live in Naran of course, and have two children; the eldest, a girl, is about two years younger than you are. I visit them regularly.’ ‘Perhaps—perhaps later. I would like to get a bit settled down first.’ ‘Of course.’ ‘Do you think Milek and Lony will have reached the city by now?’ ‘I hope so, if they haven’t they are in serious trouble. But when I was at the entrance this morning I heard many voices. More than one band seems to have gathered here by now. If they had captured our friends they’d have tried to use them against us.’ ‘Would we hear them in here, if they wanted to contact us?’ ‘Oh yes, if they shout we should be able to hear them halfway across the meadow.’ She sighed. ‘I hope they’ll come soon to relieve us.’ ‘Are you tired of this place already?’ ‘It’s not that. In itself this place is wonderful. But the thought of being besieged here—I don’t know what they might do.’

❖ ‘Be as different from Milek as possible,’ Kerne advised. ‘Look them in the eye, be bold.’ He regarded him. ‘You’ve learned something of it while impersonating a nobleman.’ Milek nodded, feeling his new beard. They were standing in an antechamber. ‘It’ll get you further with them too. Courage is admired, in Manten.’ ‘Then perhaps I shouldn’t disguise myself.’ ‘If you don’t you might not even get a hearing. They’re too emotional and would insist on your arrest straight away.’ The doors to the Council chamber were opened and Kerne, Milek and Lony went in. While the other two remained at the side Kerne walked forward and made his appeal. As he had predicted the Council was not at all keen to grant his request. ‘So what if he is being cornered by some shady carters. Can’t he take care of himself? Isn’t that what he is famous for?’ ‘We don’t usually take a force of arms along when we go to negotiate with a runaway child.’ ‘Up till now,’ grumbled one of the Council Members. ‘Hasn’t he heard about the ransom demands?’ ‘Ransom demands, Lord Rutne?’ asked one of the younger members. ‘Yes, I don’t think mine was the first occurrence.’ ‘None of this is serious enough to warrant having troops cross our lands,’ said a tall, narrow-faced lord. ‘Let him just pay up. He can punish them later.’ ‘This is not about ransom, Lord Derhan,’ Kerne put forward. ‘These carters are besieging them because they don’t want it to get about that they are selling our children.’ ‘Selling them?’ exclaimed one of the others. ‘Who would pay more for them than their own parents,’ Lord Rutne objected.

‘The Sartam.’ ‘Nonsense. There are no Sartam in Manten.’ ‘I have two eyewitnesses here, Jerron, Lord Brock’s mining representative from Naran, and young Lony, who was actually sold to the Sartam, but was liberated before they could take him across the border.’ At his nod Milek and Lony had come forward. ‘How many of those so-called Sartam did you meet?’ asked Lord Derhan disparagingly. ‘Two of them,’ replied Milek, his lips felt stiff at first. ‘We believe they were at the most northern point of their circuit, planning to collect more children from various groups on their way back south. They had a short cart, fit for mountain travel.’ ‘And where are they now?’ ‘Rotting by the roadside!’ declared Lony with spirit. ‘No ransom for me, my parents aren’t rich. So I was going to be—’ ‘How do you know they were Sartam?’ inquired an older lord. ‘Well they were swarthy, they had black beards and they spoke Common with a heavy accent.’ ‘I wasn’t asking you, child.’ The Council Member turned to Milek. ‘A lot of southerners answer to that description; do you have anything that is to the point?’ ‘We heard that a meeting had been observed between a band of shady carters and some foreigners with pointed caps.’ There were murmurings. ‘Also, the two we encountered were interested in emeralds.’ ‘Ah,’ interjected Lord Derhan, ‘Brock’s precious emerald mines. He just wants to punish some smugglers.’ ‘Not just smugglers,’ said Milek, ‘spies. Among the Sartam’s possessions we found documents of strategic importance. Some people appear to be willing to betray this country, and perhaps they are in high places.’ ‘All this is serious enough to warrant an investigation,’ said the older lord. ‘I vote that we allow the troops to cross our lands.’ ‘But how many troops does he need, against one measly band of carters?’ someone else wanted to know. ‘There may very well be more than one band involved,’ Milek put in. ‘It is even possible there are more Sartam, who will now be out for revenge.’ ‘Don’t be taken in by this fellow, he’ll say anything.’ Lord Derhan looked at him with hatred. ‘He claims to be a Naran now, does he?’ Kerne stepped forward. ‘He is a Naran, I can vouch for him.’ Lord Derhan would clearly have loved to cast doubt on Kerne’s integrity as well but the older lord intervened. ‘We vote now.’ Milek stood back, his heart was pounding. He had abandoned all caution today, said things on the spur of the moment, without thinking. Once he had seen Kerne wince. If only he had not damaged his friend’s chances. But when the voting was done they received permission to take the troops into the badlands. Thankfully he breathed up. Kerne joined him. ‘You amaze me. Well done.’ Then he noticed that Milek was trembling. ‘Come, we’d better get away quickly.’ After the doors of the Council chamber had closed behind the three of them they suddenly found themselves surrounded by constables. ‘Excuse me, Sir Kerne, but we have to arrest this man on suspicion of sacrilege.’ ‘On whose orders!’ demanded the other. ‘A formal accusation was brought in by Lord Derhan.’ ‘Against whom?’ ‘Jerron, also known as Milek, one-time slave.’ The Naran was paralysed. They took hold of him. Lony looked on in confusion, half ready to defend him. ‘We’ll get you out!’ Kerne promised. He turned to the officer. ‘I advise you to treat him well. He is a personal friend of Lord Brock. Do not, on any account, hand him over to whichever lord may demand it.’ The other nodded. ‘I will see to it, sir.’ Then they took Milek away with them.

❖ ‘Did you—’ Auren hesitated. ‘Do you remember my mother?’

‘Yes, I do,’ said Lord Brock gravely. ‘Well enough to know that you do not look like her much. Do you think me that callous, child?’ She blushed. ‘I’ve heard enough to know that men do not always remember every woman in their house.’ ‘You are right. I must confess there are some that I cannot recall very clearly. And yes, I liked her, she was a gentle creature. Though I did not single her out in my affection. That fact has probably saved her life.’ He looked at her. ‘What did she die of, eventually?’ ‘Something internal. She had been unwell for a long time but the wise woman did not know what exactly was wrong with her. She brought two other wise woman in once who examined her, but then grandfather forbade that.’ ‘Your grandfather has a lot to answer for.’ ‘I don’t think the other two knew what to do about it either. She lived for three more years after that, getting steadily weaker. She said she tried to keep alive for my sake. I think she was in a lot of pain, towards the end.’ ‘I believe it is time we revised the training of the Wise Women. I don’t think it is nearly as good as that of our physicians.’ He saw that Auren was crying quietly. ‘I am sorry, I should not have mentioned it. It’s still too recent for you.’ ‘No, I am glad I can finally talk about it, about her.’ She swallowed. ‘No one wanted to know, we always had to pretend we didn’t exist.’ ‘I am sorry, child. It is easy to blame your grandfather but the real guilt is mine. I should not have brought more women into the house once I knew what was going on.’ He was thoughtful for a moment. ‘Didn’t your mother ever suggest that you contact me?’ ‘No. But I think that early on she hoped we would be able to return one day. I have always thought she called me Auren to remind you of her.’ He thought about that. He had not really known her well enough, she was little more than a face to him. ‘By the way, where did you get the name Karan?’ ‘He’s a cousin of mine. He was one of the few people I could really talk to. As children we often played together. He is out of the house now. But I knew I would look up if I heard someone call that name.’ ‘Sound thinking. That’s the most important thing when you use another name.’ He recalled his first sight of her, when she brought the letter. ‘There is one thing you haven’t told me,’ he said after a while. ‘From your letter I got the impression that you were crippled. I don’t remember the exact words, a defect?’ Suddenly she looked terribly vulnerable and insecure. ‘It is—a stain, a large stain, nearly black, on my—body.’ She briefly indicated the region of her right shoulder. ‘I was born with it.’ ‘A birthmark.’ ‘Yes. The other children used to tease me about it, they said—’ she shook her head and clamped her mouth shut. ‘But surely, normally it isn’t visible.’ ‘Normally! What was my future to be? All the girls of my age have been given or married long ago. Ordinarily they would have invented a background for me and I would have fared no worse than the others. But like this, who would have me? Only a man who couldn’t afford much, who couldn’t get any better, or, as it happened, someone whose women don’t live very long.’ She shuddered. This aspect had not occurred to him. ‘All women are good for is to please men,’ she continued bitterly. ‘And if they’re married, to bear heirs. Tell me, what would have happened to me had I been born in your house?’ ‘I do not know. You mean if I had had a normal household. Then I would have had more children. As it is I have no experience of being the father of a daughter.’ He realised this was not what she meant. ‘What do you want me to say?’ She wept. ‘I want you to say that it does not matter to you, that you would have cared for me despite everything.’ ‘Auren, my child,’ he took her into his arms. She stiffened at first, then put her head on his shoulder and sobbed. ‘My poor girl. I will look after you, do not worry. You have come home now. We will find a way of life for you where you can be happy.’ He recalled holding Merit like this once, years ago. When Auren had been small there had been no father to comfort her. He would make it up to her somehow. Finally she grew calmer and sat up, wiping her eyes. ‘Thank you, father. I—I’m sorry—’

‘Don’t be, these thing needed to be said.’ He was silent for a moment. ‘Do you still need me to tell you that I love you?’ ‘Do you really?’ She looked as if she did not quite dare to believe him. He was touched. ‘Look at me, my child. Yes, I love you, never doubt that.’

❖ Though they had rationed themselves strictly and added what edible plants they could find in the meadow to their diet, they had very little food left when one day they heard the sound of fighting. Lord Brock went to the big stone sealing the entrance and listened intently. Several times the carters outside had tried to deceive them into believing friends had arrived to lift the siege. Finally he heard Kerne’s voice close by. ‘It’s all right, you can come out.’ Quickly he removed the stones that wedged the boulder in place and toppled it out of the way. Kerne was standing in the tunnel. ‘Well met, my friend. You must be heartily sick of having to rescue me every time.’ ‘I’m getting used to it,’ grinned the other. ‘We’re coming.’ Looking round he saw Auren on her way towards them, she was hardly limping anymore. ‘Milek helped to convince the Council,’ Kerne was saying. ‘But he paid for it, they arrested him as we came out. Charged him with sacrilege.’ ‘What?!’ ‘I promised him we’d get him out, and told the guards not to hand him over to anyone. It’s Derhan, he recognised him. He’ll press for an early trial.’ ‘I must get back to the capital!’ ‘I brought some fast horses, and Tikal knows the best way, he was our guide.’ He beckoned and gave some orders. Auren had reached them and was listening in some concern. ‘Kerne, this is my daughter, Auren,’ said Lord Brock. ‘I entrust her to you and hereby appoint you as her guardian, should anything happen to me. She is not to be forced into marriage, under any circumstances.’ The other bowed his head. ‘I am honoured.’ ‘Father—’ the girl’s voice shook. ‘Don’t worry, it is just a precaution.’ He put a hand on her shoulder. ‘I must go and save Milek now.’ She nodded mutely. When they came out of the tunnel a young carter arrived with two horses. ‘My name is Tikal, sir. You wish to go to the capital?’ ‘Yes, as fast as possible.’ He mounted and then looked back at his daughter. ‘You’ll be coming back with the troops, as soon as Kerne has mopped up here.’ Auren straightened. ‘I’ll make myself useful here, sir.’ He smiled. ‘Very good.’ Then he was on his way, followed by Tikal and two guards. Kerne turned to her. ‘Lady, you’d best stay close to me till we have created some order here.’ ‘With your permission, it might be easiest if I continued pretending to be a boy, as I’m still wearing the outfit. I went by the name of Karan.’ He considered. ‘If you are comfortable with that then yes, I agree’ For a while he was kept busy overseeing the rounding up of those carters who had fled on their arrival, the organisation of the prisoners’ compound, the care for the wounded and setting up camp. ‘What’s in that cave there?’ Lord Brock’s guard commander asked him. He had come along with some of his men. ‘It’s the carters’ Secret Place, where he has been hiding. They’re rather sensitive about it, and as most of the carters are solidly on our side, we’d better stay clear of it; the less our men know of it the better. We could call it their Sacred Place, perhaps.’ ‘All right.’ His eyes widened. ‘Where the devil did that boy come from! He’d run away—’ Turning round Kerne saw Auren leading a draught horse from the cave. She looked about her and then took it to the horse lines. The guard commander was studying the slight figure. ‘Don’t tell me that is . . . ’ ‘His child, yes. To be protected at all costs.’ The other’s eyes widened. ‘Child, not—son? Good grief, and I gave him weapons practise!’

‘It’ll be best if she remains a boy for the time being.’ ‘Yes, I agree.’ He grunted. ‘I did think at the time that Karan had something of the—of Lord Brock about him. Look, now he’s helping with the wounded.’ ‘There’s no harm in that. We’ll give out that he is his relative.’ ‘Speaking of relatives, half of those carts here are full of the wives and children of our prisoners. What do we do with them?’ ‘They can’t be trusted, of course. If some of them slip out and start freeing the prisoners . . . ’ ‘Or get their hands on Karan!’ ‘Yes, they will know about her. Right, we will move them off straight away. I’ll detail one company to take them out of the badlands and leave them with the first group of carters they meet. They can take the carts without family along as well.’ When the prisoners saw their carts being moved off there was a howl of protest but their guards quickly put an end to that.

❖ In his cell Milek pondered his situation. He had no idea when his trial would be, and whether he would be allowed to speak, to defend himself. He felt trapped, numb; the only two people who might have been able to help him were far away, the chance that they would return in time was small indeed. For years he had never dared show himself publicly in Manten, because this threat had been hanging over him. Now the nightmare had become reality. Caught, helpless, the way he had felt during his years of slavery. What had made him think the danger was past? Had playing a powerful lord gone to his head, made him reckless? But he had done it to help his friend, besieged by hostile carters. The other’s freedom had depended on him. Kerne had warned him, but he had been vain enough to think that his testimony would be necessary. Had it really been? He saw no way out, no future. The Manten nobles were determined to avenge themselves on him. He remembered what he had heard about the punishment for what he was accused of. No mere banishment or even hanging for a slave and foreigner. ‘Death would be a relief, in the end.’ He shivered and tried to stop thinking of it. Once he had been able to escape, but this time . . . He thought of his wife, his children. Would he be allowed to write a last message to them? The bitterest message a wife could receive. Suddenly the door of his cell was opened. ‘Come,’ said the guard, ‘the trial is beginning.’

❖ The passage of the troops had considerably broadened and flattened the original track to the Secret Place so Lord Brock made better time than he had feared. Yet it took him far longer than he liked to reach the capital. Leron was greatly relieved to see him when he arrived, in the dead of night. ‘We heard you were in trouble, sir.’ ‘That’s been dealt with. This is Tikal, see to him. Any news of Milek—I mean Jerron?’ ‘The trial started yesterday, sir.’ ‘Damnation! Only I am qualified to lead it!’ He looked anxious. ‘It isn’t over yet, is it?’ ‘No sir, there seem to have been arguments about the authority of the court.’ ‘Good, at least some people remember the correct procedures. When will they reconvene?’ ‘This morning, at nine o’clock.’ ‘Right. I’m going to look something up before retiring. If there’s any food ready, please send it to my study, I skipped the evening meal. Call me at eight. And, Leron . . . ’ ‘Sir?’ ‘Thank you for keeping informed about the trial.’

❖ Well before time Lord Brock made his way into the courtroom, carrying a heavily-swathed object. No one dared protest when he took up a position in the centre of the room. He unwrapped the object till only one veil covered it. A little later he saw Milek brought in. His friend seemed in a daze, but on recognising him some life returned to his eyes. The room filled quickly, mainly with nobles, who reacted in various ways when they saw him.

When the judge entered the courtroom, followed by eight Council Members acting as prosecutors and advisers, they found him standing there. ‘Lord Brock!’ The judge was startled. ‘And surely that isn’t—’ ‘Yes it is.’ He whipped the last piece of cloth away, exposing a large and elaborate crystal chalice, its rim decorated with large spikes. ‘If the trial is going to be held away from its residence then I thought it only proper to bring the Victory Goblet over here.’ There was a murmur from the crowd. ‘But is this right? Ought it be absent from your shrine?’ ‘It’s been in courtrooms before, on matters of far less pertinence. Now I have a question to ask of you: Is it proper for anyone but me, as the legal guardian of the Goblet, to lead this trial?’ ‘You weren’t here.’ ‘I was on my way. Did you hope to execute the accused before I got back?’ ‘I agree with you,’ said one of the noblemen. ‘This whole trial has been a disgrace.’ ‘This is the second time this object has been misused,’ said Lord Brock. ‘Treated as a mere tool to visit injustice on an innocent man.’ ‘His innocence has yet to be established,’ the judge pointed out. ‘It was. Nine years ago the true culprits were found, and punished.’ ‘But he was never officially cleared.’ ‘Not in so many words. When I thought him dead it seemed immaterial, and when later I found out he was still alive it did not occur to me to have him prosecuted for a crime the true offenders of which had already been found and condemned. Or did you perhaps find something incorrect in that trial?’ ‘No, no doubts were raised about the procedure, then or afterwards.’ Lord Derhan rose from behind the table. ‘The question of his guilt was never gone into. He may well have touched the Goblet, even if it was stolen by others.’ ‘I examined the chalice at the time, in more than one way. It had been touched, by two of the three offenders. But not by anyone else.’ ‘How could you tell? Don’t try and play on our superstition.’ ‘As its guardian I could tell. And if you don’t believe in the Goblet’s mysteries then what is this trial about? Either it is not to be touched by anyone but its guardian, or it is simply a rather awkward cup, and you can do with it whatever you like.’ The judge had to hammer long before the murmurings in the courtroom were silenced. ‘The Victory Goblet is beyond dispute. What we are discussing here is the reliability of your words. It is well known that you have always shielded the accused.’ ‘I have. He was my property, but constantly subjected to the abuse of others. However, I have never let that interfere with the sacred duty of my guardianship. If you have proof to the contrary I’d be very interested to hear it.’ ‘You’ve always claimed he was a Skipt,’ said Lord Derhan. ‘And now it turns out he is a Naran. It is not difficult to see why you called the attack on his country off. All those years you’d been harbouring a traitor.’ ‘A traitor? Do you consider a man who tries to save his people from annihilation a traitor?’ ‘If not a traitor then an enemy.’ ‘We always knew he was an enemy. One does not enslave one’s friends. The only thing I was mistaken about was his nationality. When the Naran government had found out about our planned attack our chances of winning were so greatly reduced that I felt it was no longer justified to expose our troops to such a risk. If you remember, you had been rather censorious about our losses during the conquest of Skipet.’ ‘But instead of punishing him when you found him again you procured him a job, and kept his identity hidden from us.’ ‘I did. He has always behaved honourably towards me, he has shown exceptional bravery, and he has saved my life on more than one occasion. I can find no fault with any of his actions.’ ‘He always seemed a coward to me.’ ‘Is it cowardice to speak to the Council on behalf of a friend, when you have a threat like this hanging over your head? He was warned this could happen.’ ‘We still only have your word for it,’ said one of the others. ‘You can spin us any tale you like about the Victory Goblet and its mysteries.’ ‘Do you mean to say that none of you thought to read up on the matter before beginning this trial?

Everything I said is well-documented in the scriptures. What legality can this court claim when it does not know the first thing about the object of the crime?’ The judge was getting angry. ‘The main facts are known well enough, the Goblet is not to be touched.’ ‘And the trial of those who break that command is to be led by the guardian of the Victory Goblet. I call this trial void. It has been brought before the court by backward-looking people bent on vengeance. We should direct our attention instead to the security of our southeastern border and to people willing to barter away our children and our national security.’ ‘You are diverting our attention,’ declared Lord Derhan. ‘I claim that you have stopped waging wars so you could keep the guardianship indefinitely. So you would never run the risk of having to relinquish it after suffering a defeat.’ ‘To what purpose? What use have I made of the Goblet since our last war?’ ‘You’ve used it to stay in a position of power. You are unfit to be its guardian and must be deposed.’ ‘I don’t need the Victory Goblet to stay in power, I did not have it when I attained my position, and it wasn’t the Victory Goblet that helped me keep it.’ Another lord got up. ‘This whole court case is a shambles. I second Lord Brock’s motion to declare this trial void.’ ‘It isn’t subject to a motion,’ said the judge acidly. But five other lords also rose from behind the table. ‘We won’t be part of this any longer.’ ‘Wait!’ cried lord Derhan. ‘This is our chance to get rid of him!’ ‘No,’ said the judge suddenly. ‘Whatever else, I am not going to be used for your ends, for a sordid power struggle. This case is closed.’ He rose, stalked to the door and left. The courtroom was in an uproar, with Council Members arguing and very nearly coming to blows. Looking round Lord Brock saw Milek. ‘Release that man,’ he told the constables, who obeyed promptly. The other joined him. ‘Thank you, sir.’ ‘Wait here, I’ll have you cleared officially now.’ Taking up the Victory Goblet he went towards the bench. People made way when they saw what he was carrying. He climbed up to the judge’s place and put the Goblet down on the table in front of him. ‘As guardian I hereby declare Jerron, also known as Milek, to be innocent of any crime regarding the Victory Goblet. He has touched it neither barehanded nor with a wrap, nor has he made other use of it in any way.’ There were murmurs, but mostly of agreement. Then Lord Brock became aware that many people seemed to be looking at something behind him and turned his head. ‘You have lorded it over us long enough!’ Lord Derhan had climbed on a chest standing against the wall and drawn his dagger. As he made his move Lord Brock twisted aside. The other lost his balance; with a cry he fell forward upon the Victory Goblet. It shattered and there was a sudden fountain of blood. Lord Brock took hold of the man’s shoulder and turned him over. One of the sharp crystal spikes had pierced his throat. Though they tried to staunch the flow of blood Lord Derhan died within a few minutes. ‘The justice of the Goblet,’ someone was saying, others took it up. Lord Brock looked grimly down on the body of his adversary amidst the broken remains of the chalice. The time for such objects was past, in Manten; he would not have another one fashioned and consecrated. ‘Let him be buried together with the shards of the Victory Goblet,’ he decreed. ‘Clear the room so that the preparations can be made properly.’

❖ The day Kerne returned with the troops, bringing Auren to Lord Brock’s castle, the Manten nobleman asked him to join them for the evening meal. Milek had stayed on for their return. Auren joined them at her father’s request, completely against custom. ‘I am glad to see you got your friend off,’ said Kerne when they were seated. ‘Yes, finally. It got a bit spectacular towards the end.’ ‘So I heard. The Victory Goblet destroyed?’ ‘When Lord Derhan impaled himself on it.’ ‘In the middle of a court case?’ ‘He came for me with a dagger, I sidestepped.’ ‘The man must have been mad.’

‘I think the fate of his son had been festering in his mind for too long. He had no other heirs.’ ‘Is it the usual punishment in cases like this: barring someone from inheriting?’ asked Milek. ‘There are no cases like this. For people who touch such a Goblet by accident or only with the best intentions there are milder punishments. But deliberately taking one from its place to use it for a prank was totally unheard of. The fact that the boy did so, and knew you would be cruelly killed for it, suggests a degree of irresponsibility and viciousness that made him totally unfit to ever succeed his father as lord of their lands.’ ‘And you had the authority to choose that punishment and have it enforced.’ ‘Yes, as guardian of the Goblet, I did. Otherwise it would have been a very different matter.’ ‘Are there many of these kind of Goblets, in Manten?’ ‘A few; there used to be more but the cult is waning. Only this one and the Harvest cup are actively used nowadays. The harvest cult is a milder affair, at present. I have decided not to renew the Victory Goblet. Quite apart from the fact that our craftsmen are rumoured to have lost the secret of making a true one, if people no longer respect it it is open to the gravest misuse.’ ‘But what about its power?’ asked Auren. ‘That ended for this particular Goblet with its destruction. The power that had been invested in it will from now on be much harder to call upon, without the Goblet as focus. Of late it was seldom used for more than confirming that you’d won a decisive victory, which was rather self-evident.’ ‘You said you could tell who had touched the Goblet,’ said Milek. ‘Ah, yes, that was one of its lesser known properties. After some rather tedious preparations I was able to sense, by a certain resonance, who had touched it recently. I did that examination as soon as possible after the incident.’ There was a brief silence. ‘Have you discovered where those documents came from that you found in the Sartam’s possession?’ asked Kerne. ‘So far everything points to one of the district governors, but I haven’t got absolute proof yet.’ Auren looked up. ‘What happened to Lony?’ ‘He’s back at his father’s farm,’ said Kerne with a smile. ‘And I’m told his father was greatly relieved to see him again.’ ‘He never did tell us what their quarrel had been about,’ grinned Lord Brock. ‘Or did he confide in you, Milek?’ ‘No, he didn’t. He was a good companion on the road, I was glad to have him along.’ ‘We were glad you made good time, our food had practically run out.’ ‘I too want to thank you,’ said Auren rather awkwardly. Milek nodded gravely. ‘At your service, lady.’ ‘I am pleased you wanted to join us tonight,’ her father told her. ‘At one time it was not uncommon for men and women to meet and converse publicly. Perhaps it’s time I re-established that custom. Would you like that?’ Auren hesitated. ‘If there aren’t too many people present.’ ‘Of course. And you could bring one or two servants with you if that would make you feel more comfortable.’ Kerne sighed. ‘I suppose I’ll have to ask my wife the same thing, then. She would probably love it.’ ‘Yes, progress is hard,’ grinned Lord Brock. ‘Father, there is one thing I would like to know.’ ‘Yes?’ ‘What will happen to the horse that was with us in the Secret Place.’ ‘We brought it back with us,’ added Kerne. ‘I hadn’t given it much thought. Why?’ ‘I—I rather liked it.’ ‘You mean you would want me to keep it? That is easy enough. Though it won’t exactly be the pride of my stable. Wouldn’t you rather have a nice riding horse?’ ‘But I know this one.’ ‘All right, it’s your choice.’ He looked round. ‘Well, Milek, perhaps you too could bring your wife and your children to visit us here one day.’ ‘I think they would like that.’