About the Story     Chapter One     Chapter Two

 

Talking With Winds
by L. Shelby

Chapter Two
Departure

 Samanth wasn't quite certain what to think of the prince. When she had failed in her errand, he stood up for her and swore to assist her, just like a hero in a fireside tale. But what assistance could he provide beyond what she could buy for herself?

Worse, she was almost afraid to look at him, for he bore a strong resemblance to his famous sister, except that his jaw was stronger, and while her hair was red-gold, his was mahogany -- the richness of the color almost shocking in a land of blonds and sandy browns. The features that Samanth regarded with detached approval in the princess, she found rather uncomfortably attractive on the unsworn Prince. But she really didn't want to think about that, and she groped for something else to do-- something to say to fill the silence that had arisen at the bard's departure.

"Why do you need your sister's attendant?" she asked at last, hoping the question wouldn't be seen as unpleasantly intrusive.

"Tomah is not my sister's attendant, he's mine," Prince Asond answered. "But if you were given the choice of her company or mine, which would you choose?"

He doesn't make polite conversation very easy. Samanth thought resentfully. Her anger at his father had burned itself out, and, as always when her temper faded, she was left feeling weak and shaky. "It is kind of you to allow him the freedom to choose," she attempted.

"Kind?" One mahogany eyebrow rose. "Kindness is not one of my motivations. My sister has no attendant, at least, none but women, and they are ill-suited to the task of carrying her up and down the tower stairs. But my father must validate the assignment of a male servant to her service, and he will not. To do so would mean acknowledging that she exists, that she is his daughter, and that he is responsible for her support and upkeep. I'd rather indulge Tomah than to feel duty-bound to attend to her myself."

Samanth concentrated on her wobbly knees to keep them from buckling. Kindness is not one of his motivations. She had suspected all along that it was not, for the grass green eyes of the prince seemed to her just as hard and uncaring as his father's gray eyes had been. But to have him actually say it was a bit of a shock.

"Since you are acting for me, Prince. I should give you my silver."

He scowled at her. "I have not requested any payment."

"Not for you, Prince. For the purchasing of supplies."

"You think I cannot provide from my own resources? I may be banned from the palace, but I am still heir to Agolith."

"Do you think I brought the full weight of my dower silver across the plains just to impress northern yokels?" she responded. "I brought it to provide for the needs of my people."

"If that barbaric display is your dower, you are better advised to keep it to purchase yourself a husband," he answered. "I will provide for your people. Have I not sworn it?"

Angered by the implication she needed a fortune to get herself a husband, Samanth took several deep breaths before answering. "Perhaps then I should go myself to the marketplace of Karemori."

"Only if you wish me to leave without you," the Prince responded. "It's Lady Day. Today the marketplace is devoted to dancing, not selling -- you can't possible conclude your business before tomorrow evening, and I cannot wait. My father has declared me an exile; I stay this night and no longer."

As if to emphasize his words he turned abruptly and strode out of the great hall, and Samanth found herself running in an attempt to keep pace with him. They swept through the doors, down a couple corridors, and then to her delight she found herself passing under an exterior gate, and out into the living air.

The Prince had led her to a triangular courtyard, edged on two sides with castle walls, their towers marking the far corners. Beyond them, bisecting the open side of the triangle, was a building that inexplicably seemed to be intended for the keeping of horses. Even their beasts are housebound, she thought, too bemused to feel properly disgusted. In the center of the court, where the sun met the shadow of the enclosing walls, the prince stopped and she looked at him inquiringly, trying hard not to notice how the sunlight turned his hair to a blazing fire. The lovelier the landscape the harder it is to cross, she warned herself, and looked away.

"Did you leave your mount in the stables?" he asked.

"Of course not."

"You left it, and your escort, by the South Gate?"

"My horse, yes. An escort, no. None could be spared."

"Surely you didn't carry that silver all this way unattended."

Samanth shrugged. "There are no robbers on the Northern Plains. No one lives there at all."

"Not since the Plague. True." He turned away and bellowed, and when a man approached at a run from somewhere past the corner of the stables, went forward to meet him halfway.

The Prince had a great deal to say to this man, and Samanth knew she should be paying attention, but the sound of a crow overhead distracted her. The fly call was not one that she recognized, but the voice sounded familiar. She answered with a call of her own, knowing it was unnecessary, but feeling that talking to the bird silently would look even more peculiar. The crow swooped directly down to her shoulder proving that this was the same one that had followed her across the plains. He tilted his head to get a better look at her, and announced his individuality. [Krarara.] He had been using Ka-a-a this morning.

"I'm glad you're still around."

[Food?]

"I gave you my last piece already," she answered, but the crow did not understand her, of course, and continued to gaze eagerly at her belt-pouch.

"Your bird?"

Samanth looked away from her crow friend to see that the Prince was already surrounded by tall pale men, armed and rugged. The one that had spoken, however, was approaching her, not him.

Krarara helpfully squawked [Danger below!] as he abandoned her shoulder and took once again to the air.

[All clear!] Samanth responded before turning to the man. "He seems to consider me a part of his flock."

The northman smiled. "Can scare it away. You want? Few rocks..."

Samanth winced. "We're old friends. I would be very unhappy if he got hurt."

He shook his head, still grinning. "Never heard of crow friends. Eat crops, bring woe, attack babies. So it goes. You want friend, I no scare."

With the big broad grin and the abbreviated sentences Samanth would have assumed he was a half-wit, if she hadn't heard other northerners speaking the same way yesterday when she tried asking directions to the castle. "Are you coming with us?"

"Lopup," he introduced himself, "Heir's Guard. You?"

"Samanth of the Trollguard."

He looked inquiringly at the tangle of necklaces that adorned her neck. "Princess?"

Samanth ran a finger over the enameled firebird medallion on the topmost necklace. Prince Asond had recommended she buy herself a husband, but no amount of silver would allow her to wed one of her own people. If she was not going to sell them, then they were nothing but a useless burden. But the man had asked a question, and deserved a polite answer. "The Trollguard is the leader of the Northern Tribes, and so my father, the Chief, is King of all the Sworn Peoples north of the Sanuma. I suppose by your way of thinking, it would make me a princess. But I have no claim to the leadership of my people." No future among their ranks, and no right to call them my own.

He nodded. "We fetch horse." He held out an arm, and she realized after a few heartbeats of puzzlement that she was expected to hang on to it. She didn't think she wanted to, and a short time later he dropped it, not apparently offended, and bowed instead. He led her around the outside of the castle without saying another word, but when they reached Tressa's side, he was moved to speak again. "Short."

Samanth almost giggled. Compared to the long-legged beasts belonging to the northmen, Tressa was indeed short, but never in her life had she men a man who said as little as this northman armsman. She removed most of her silver, wrapping it neatly and bestowing it in Tressa's saddlebags, and then allowed Lopup to lift her into her saddle, and lead her back around the castle to rejoin his prince.

 

# # #

 

Tomah waited until the next morning to see Asolde. He hoped she would forgive him his negligence, but Asond needed his help in arranging supplies, and Asolde likely needed the time to recuperate, and think. He hoped to find her rested and bright eyed, but instead she was pale, her movements lifeless, and her welcoming smile a shadow of what it could be. Only her eyes were bright and lively. "You shouldn't expend yourself on your brother's behalf, highness," he found himself saying before he could snatch back the words.

Asolde's smile disappeared. "Will you advise him in my stead?"

Tomah shook his head. "As sister and as bard you have the right and the knowledge." At least we will leave soon, and his follies will no longer reach her.

Already she was frowning again, her gaze was no longer focused on him. "It was unkind of you not to bring our Tamul visitor to speak with me. There is something about her that puzzles me. Did she look like she could be younger than fourteen or fifteen?"

"No." But he had hardly glanced at the dark girl in her bright dress, and for all he knew she was still a tadling. She had not been tall.

"When the Tamuls come of age, they swear oaths to the Goddess Cottamul, and receive a gold armband. Samanth, however, wore nothing but silver, even though I would guess her to be about my age -- three cycles past the time her ceremony should have been held, at least."

"I thought you were fretting about your brother," Tomah admitted. "I apologize."

"I do worse than fret, my friend. I fear. Keymas has a hundred men, and my brother only ten."

"And me," Tomah added, in a vain attempt to make everything sound somehow less awful than it was.

Asolde rewarded him with another smile. "And you. And you must be worth at least ten men all on your own, so that makes my brother's force a full score."

Two men Tomah might possibly be worth, not ten. Not unless they were starving half-wits and completely unarmed, but it was good that she was joking, and he smiled encouragingly at her.

"There is one heartening circumstance, however," Asolde continued, "that we must not fail to take advantage of. Keymas would be a fool to kill the heir to Agolith. For one thing, it would forever doom his hopes of wedding my sister. We must take care to remind him of that fact."

That might be worth something, Tomah realized, feeling more cheerful than he had since yesterday morning. "Have you written a letter?"

"Most certainly." She handed him a sealed parchment and smiled a trifle ruefully. "I hope it does what it's supposed to. I made three attempts at it before I was satisfied."

No wonder she looked so tired.

"You will arrange for it to be carried to Vernay?"

"Of course. Immediately." His hands tucked the message safely into his belt-pouch while his gaze remained fixed on her face.

"There is something else I can do, if I can but think of it," she told him fretfully. "I'm sure it's just a little thing, but it has been tickling at me since yesterday, and if I don't come up with it soon Asond will be much to far away to help.

His loss, but all the better for you.

"Far away... something to do with being... Ah!" She squirmed about in an attempt to get an elbow beneath her, and Tomah dived forward to raise her up to a sitting position. Leaning eagerly away from his supporting hands, she ran her fingers across the shelves behind her couch, and then extracted a roll of parchment from a carved scroll box. She spread it open and smiled.

"That's what I couldn't remember. I have a map of the area. I do not know how the Tamuls navigate, but I do not believe they use maps, or I would have some of theirs in my collection. This one is a copy of a much older map, and the habitations marked on it have likely all been left empty since the Plague, but it may still be of some use. And my brother will appreciate not having to always depend on the Tamuls to tell him where he is."

Tomah gently tugged on the map, removing it from her hands, and then he grasped her shoulder so he could pull her back down, and give her support at the same time. "He will be pleased," he told her. "I'll take it to him."

She succumbed to the burden of her own weight and collapsed limply. "Be gentle with it."

"I'll treat it like one of your brother's precious blades."

She grinned. "Is that supposed to reassure me?"

Tomah re-rolled the map and then wrapped his fingers protectively about it. "I treat his highness' weapons very well."

She chuckled. "And he isn't even all that good with them."

"He is an excellent spearman."

"Much to his own chagrin; how pitiful to be best at something so plebeian." Tomah couldn't resist smiling back into her dancing eyes, but she was badly wilted, and the smile soon faded. "Take care of him, Tomah."

Must she always be thinking of him, and never herself? He no longer felt like smiling, but he forced the cheerful expression to remain. "I always do." He stepped away from the bed, and made a respectful half bow, before turning toward the door.

"And get a scroll case for that map," she added in a faint voice.

He nodded in acknowledgment and almost turned back again--wishing to come up with some further words of farewell. But there was nothing more to say, so he left, gently easing the door shut behind him.

Prince Asond was in the courtyard supervising the packing, and the vagabond girl sat on her pony a short distance away, watching with dark scornful eyes. She was stroking her pet crow with fingers that Tomah thought seemed impatient and restless. When she looked up and noticed his approach she turned to the Prince and inquired. "Can we leave now?"

She was ignored.

"Did my sister the bard have anything useful to say?" Prince Asond asked, having also noticed Tomah's arrival.

"Two useful things," Tomah told him, not quite managing to keep his disapproval from showing.

Asond grimaced. "I should have known."

"First a present." Tomah handed over the scroll case, and Asond peeked inside.

"The perfect gift, as always. What else?"

"A letter for Keymas."

The prince scowled. "I should have done that."

"She does it better."

"Yes. I know." The prince turned away and scanned the bustle. "A courier then?"

"I'll handle it," Tomah answered, pivoting towards the barracks. His course took him past the vagabond girl, who held out an arm to stay him.

"How long will this take?"

Tomah reminded himself that she was afraid for the lives of her kinsman and managed to answer politely. "No time."

The girl didn't seem to believe him. "The sun is almost to the height of its arc. My people would have left before the dew dried."

Tomah believed her. But last night at dinner the lovely Princess Asolind had promised to see them all off, and until she made her appearance not a single one of Asond's guards could be convinced to leave the castle.

Dispatching a courier did not take him long, and his packing was complete, so soon he had nothing more to do than to swing himself up onto his stallion Mistral's broad back and await Princess Asolind's pleasure. He took up his position at his liege's side, where he couldn't help but overhear what the vagabond was saying to him.

"You are bringing two stallions?" she was asking Asond incredulously.

Lopup claimed she was some kind of princess, but that wasn't the kind of question either Asolde or Asolind would think to ask. She didn't look like a princess either. The bright dress from yesterday was gone, and she was wearing leather trousers, a shirt with flowing sleeves under a leather jerkin, and high riding boots that had obviously seen a lot of travel.

"It's almost winter," Asond was explaining "The mares have stopped cycling. Besides Tomah's beast, huge as it is, is singularly lacking in temperament." He should have left the matter there, but of course he added: "Someone who hauls a crow about on her shoulder has no business complaining about the animals other people choose to favor."

Almost as if it understood that it was being insulted the crow turned towards him and croaked something that sounded like "Gobby. Gobby, fool!"

Asond's face darkened, and he opened his mouth as if to express his outrage, only to close it again, and if Tomah hadn't been feeling so grim he would have laughed.

"All crows can learn to imitate sounds, Prince," the girl was explaining, her tone smug. "Not only can he scold like a human, but Krarara can also hiss like a snake and growl like a dog."

"Fascinating," Prince Asond replied. "I see that I will have even more to look forward to than I expected."

The vagabond had spunk, however, and the dismissive tone did not quell her. "What could your sister possibly have to say to that snake?"

"If you mean Keymas, my sister has no doubt informed him of my interest in your cause."

"Does that improve our position?" she asked dubiously, and then, perhaps realizing how impolite she sounded, added "I'm sure your reputation is a puissant one."

His lip curled. "Rather it is my relationships that will be the staying force. But it is worth attempting before we depart. Speaking of departure, perhaps you should inform me as to which road we are taking."

"There's no trail to follow," she answered. "Just ride toward the mountains. Until they grow large enough that I can make out their shapes, I will be unable to point us any more accurately than that."

"A chancy way to navigate," Asond responded.

"A Tamula is rarely lost, Prince," she retorted. "I found your palace easily enough."

"All northern roads lead to Karemore," he snapped. "How could you have missed it?"

"All the world is my road, and the wilderness itself will guide me!" The crow on the vagabond's shoulder rose squawking into the air, apparently in protest of the vehemence of her reply.

"When your roof is the open sky, I can see how you never have trouble finding it." Scorn dripped from his tongue and Tomah saw the girl flush a deep red.

"Why did you agree to help us anyway?" she demanded.

"You think a sharp tongue makes a man incapable of heroic deeds?"

"A hero of your bitterness, even the Gods would refuse to swallow."

"I don't know that I believe in gods," the prince answered.

The girl's wordless response didn't sound like it would lead to further polite discourse, and Tomah, remembering that the Tamuls were said to be deeply religious, thought that it might be best to intervene. "Princess Asolde has seen the Lady of Light."

"Asolde spent nine days in a high fever," his prince retorted. "Goddesses are likely the least of what she saw."

Tomah clenched his jaw tight, reminded himself that he was sworn to keep the prince safe, and looked toward the gate for deliverance. Fortunately the Princess Asolind made her appearance before anything else could be said.

She approached across the court, tendrils of hair escaping from under her veil and twisting in the wind. When she had everyone's attention, she gave a little speech, provided a farewell kiss on the cheek for her brother, and then filled the parting cup, and walked along the lines of mounted men, offering everyone a sip. Tomah knew this would be the highlight of the day for everyone else, but he didn't even bother to watch her. He did, when she finally reached his side, lean down and whisper "I told young Ferten he was to look in on your sister, highness. Could you make certain he remains free to fill the request?"

The princess looked uncertain. "I'll try... if I can't, I will find someone else, I promise." Tomah nodded. He sipped from the cup, and returned it, and the Princess passed it along to the vagabond girl, who looked appalled. The girl's gaze slid over to where the Prince sat waiting and watching and she took a hasty gulp, before pushing the cup back into the hands of the princess.

The Gold Lady moved back in front of her brother to complete the ceremony. "May your errand prove fruitful, may your journey be safe, may your company prove true."

"By her will so be it," the vagabond girl muttered.

Prince Asond took the cup and drained the remainder of the drink, said something suitably flowery, and, the formalities attended to, turned his horse away from the castle.
 
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