Burning Tower Page 13

Green Stone growled. “City Lord. What use would he be on the Hemp Road?”

  Clever Squirrel grinned. “You don’t know much about girls, do you?”

  Chalker found her an hour later at her wagon nest. “Lord Sandry’s respects, Lady.” He looked around to be sure they were alone. “The high and mighty ones are going to summon all you wagon folk to a big meeting tomorrow up in Lordshills,” he said. “Lord Sandry was hoping he could see you sort of more privatelike before that, but they want him at their council tonight.”

  “What do you think will happen?”

  Chalker looked serious. “I don’t know, and that’s the honest truth. Them Lords talk a lot and put on big shows, but they’re taking this as serious as anything I ever saw.”

  “What do you think of them?” she asked.

  He eyed her carefully.

  “I mean—”

  “Yes, ma’am, I think I know what you mean. And bein’ honest again, I don’t know if you can fit in with them or not. But they’re a pretty adaptable bunch. We both think a lot of our Lord Sandry.”

  “Well, yes!”

  “Thing is, so do the high and mighty ones. It may be that what he wants will count for a lot one of these days, and like I say, the Lords are pretty adaptable, all things considered. More so than the Captains of Condigeo, that’s for sure.” He bowed. “And I reckon I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Chalker was barely out of the wagon nest when Squirrel came in from the other room. “Well.”

  “You heard?”

  “Sure. Told you he hadn’t forgotten you.”

  “But what did he really say? Squirrelly, I get so mixed up! I just can’t stop thinking about him.”

  “Do you want to?”

  “Sometimes yes, sometimes not. I never see you mooning over boys!”

  “You won’t, either, but it doesn’t mean I never did it. Or never will again, for that matter.”

  “You?”

  She shrugged. “You’re the one who keeps pointing out that I have to shout at the one-horns.”

  “Yeah—what was that like?”

  Squirrel grinned. “Now, now, you’ll find out. Overrated, I’d say, but then I wasn’t really all that in love with—well, with the boy. Maybe it’s different when you’re in love, married, or going to be.”

  “Oh.”

  “Don’t get crazy ideas,” Squirrel said. “Look, I have my place. Like my mother. Five kids and no husband, but she doesn’t need one. Neither do I. Nobody really expects Coyote’s daughter to mate for life. But it’s different for you.” She chuckled. “Hang in there, Blazes. If you really want that boy, you’ll get him.”

  “And then what? A Lordkin’s daughter in Lordshills? Or—” She changed her voice to sound like her brother’s. “A city Lord on the Hemp Road.”

  Squirrel shrugged. “Whandall Feathersnake was a city Lordkin who did pretty well on the Hemp Road.” She took Burning Tower’s hand in hers and stared at the palm, then shook her head. “Nothing. I’d say it was the low manna, but I never have seen anything. I think our paths are too close. You and me, Sister.”

  The invitation came later that evening: a parchment written in a neat hand with embellishments and illuminations. The Lords Witness would be pleased if the Wagonmaster would attend the announcement of the findings of the Congregation and the requests and instructions of the Council regarding the matter of the beasts known as terror birds. There was a separate invitation to the Learned Sage Clever Squirrel. They were delivered by Younglord Maydreo, accompanied by Peacevoice Fullerman, and read by a clerk in dark robes.

  After the delegation left, Green Stone frowned at the document. “They read it to us. Does this mean they think we can’t read the local language? That might be useful.”

  “Notice where they were going,” Burning Tower said. “To the Lordkin lodgehouse. They’ll know Lordkin can’t read no matter what language it’s in. What happens if they read it to them but not us? Might be insulting to the Lordkin.”

  “Or an honor they don’t want to give us,” Clever Squirrel observed. “One thing I’ve noticed, these Lords don’t do much by accident.” She grinned. “Think you can live that way, Blazes? You’ve always been pretty spontaneous.”

  “I don’t know. But Sandry isn’t that way!”

  “Not with you, maybe, but think about it,” Squirrel said. “Every story I’ve heard told about him—all of yours, even—he’s always looking ahead.”

  “But that’s good!”

  “I can agree there,” Green Stone said. “People who just do things without thinking, they can be dangerous.” He chuckled. “Sometimes it works out, though.”

  “Like you with Morth?” Tower asked. “Running off with the wizard, and just barely married at the time!”

  “Yes. But it worked well, better than we ever hoped, and I sure couldn’t have planned it. And you! You weren’t supposed to be with my group last year! Stowed away! Good thing too—you wouldn’t have been there to climb that pole to burn the Toronexti contract. Nobody could have planned that!” He sobered. “But usually it’s better to think ahead, and those Lords sure do that.”

  “Lordkin don’t plan,” Clever Squirrel said. “But Whandall learned to. Not just as a Hemp Road merchant prince, before he ever left Tep’s Town. So it’s not in their blood to be foolish, and I doubt it’s in the Lords’ blood to be wise. Blood can count—look at me, Coyote’s daughter, but look at you two, half Lordkin and half kinless and not like either.” She grinned. “I wonder what your children will be like?”

  Green Stone shook his head. “If we don’t do something about those cursed birds, she won’t have any kids, or any dowry either, for that matter.”

  “I don’t think Sandry expects a dowry,” Blazing Tower said.

  “Maybe not, but anybody out here will,” Green Stone said. “And given the way them Lords think, it won’t hurt if you have your own means just in case it doesn’t work out, you know.”

  “I don’t care about that!”

  Clever Squirrel’s voice was affectionate and only half amused. “I know you don’t. Girls in love never do. Most of the girls who want to talk to me before they marry don’t care a bit and they’re angry because their fathers and brothers insist on getting all the contract details right. But nothing makes a marriage last like the husband knowing you own the wagon and team!”

  In the morning, the Lords sent horses and wagons for Green Stone and Clever Squirrel. Burning Tower wanted to go, but they hadn’t sent anyone she knew well enough to ask, and no one responded to hints. In bitter disappointment, she watched them go, then brooded until they returned in the evening.

  “Well?” She demanded.

  “One thing at a time,” Green Stone said. “How were sales today? Particularly out of Wagon Six?”

  “Six? That’s stuff we bought at First Pines to take to Condigeo. Why?”

  Stone grinned. “Because I sold the entire wagon, cargo and all, to the Lords, at a good price too. Sight unseen.”

  “What did they want with a wagon full of goods for Condigeo?”

  “They don’t want the goods; they want the wagon,” Stone said.

  “Brother, I am going to strangle you!”

  Stone grinned again. “It will be the traveling quarters for their officers,” he said. “They’re sending an escort, chariots and footsoldiers, and even a couple of Lordkin.”

  “Who? Who? It’s Sandry, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, little sister. They’re sending the only officer they have who’s ever fought terror birds. Of course.”

  “He’s coming!”

  “Yep.” Stone looked serious. “You just don’t forget—your job on the road is to take care of the one-horns.”

  She made a face at him, and they both laughed. He’s coming!

  Book Two

  The Hemp Road

  Chapter One

  Deniable

  Redwoods stood tall as gods. Chaparral ran round their huge bases like belligerent servitors. Burning
Tower knew their danger and tried to instruct the escorts, but mostly Sandry had to learn for himself.

  Sandry had brought six Younglords with three chariots, ten Lordsmen with Peacevoice Fullerman, and two of Wanshig’s Lordkin. They seemed lost in that vast forest.

  “It’s not enough,” Sandry had told Lord Chief Witness Quintana. “Your pardon, sir, but…”

  The corners of Quintana’s eyes and mouth wrinkled slightly. “I always encourage the junior Lords to speak their minds,” he said. “Although given your heredity, I am astonished that you need encouragement.” He glanced at Lady Shanda with a slight smile, which she didn’t acknowledge. “But the fact is, we have no more to send. Not and give them proper equipment.”

  “I’d rather have troops than equipment,” Sandry said.

  “I’m sure you would. But the Lords of Lordshills aren’t going to send any delegation to Condigeo looking like it came out of a poor Lordkin stronghold! This mission must impress the Captain’s Council.”

  “We won’t impress them much if we’re all dead,” Sandry protested.

  “You have more troops than you needed to defeat twelve of the birds. And capture one alive at that,” Quintana said dryly. “Sandry, I never met an officer who didn’t honestly believe he needed more troops, but I can’t spare any more!”

  Sandry nodded. He knew it was true enough. Tension ran wild among the Lordkin bands, the kinless were terrified, and there were no more Burnings to attract the lookers and storytellers. For as long as anyone could remember, the Lords had held the balance between Lordkin and kinless and directed the economy of Tep’s Town. Now everything they had learned in centuries was probably useless.

  “Tactics,” Sandry said. “The best way to fight terror birds is to have the Lordsmen lock shields, and use the chariots to draw the cursed birds into range of their throwing spears. But that takes tricky driving. I need a driver and a spearman in each chariot, but if I hold out enough Lordsmen to make a shield wall, there’s nobody to put in the chariots with the Younglord drivers.”

  “You’ll think of something,” Aunt Shanda said. And Lord Chief Witness Quintana nodded sagely. “You’ll have to.”

  So now the Younglords were doubled up two to a chariot, one driving and one as spearman and observer. When they’d found that out the first morning, they’d sent Maydreo to protest, but Sandry cut that short.

  “I have twenty volunteer Younglords. I’ve picked you six, but it isn’t too late to change that. You still want to make that protest?” Sandry said.

  Maydreo had a very sly grin. “What if I say Younglord Whane wants to protest?”

  Sandry snorted. Whane wasn’t popular with his peers. He spent much of his time reading books and lost in his own thoughts. He was also Regapisk’s first cousin, and while Sandry hadn’t actually seen it, he suspected there was a lot of Reggy in Whane. “Not an option,” Sandry said, and left it at that. Anyone could see the fine hand of Aunt Shanda in the decision to send Whane. Surely Maydreo could?

  And he did. “Sir, can we request that you assign Whane to your chariot?”

  That was the trouble with just being promoted above your classmates, Sandry thought. They knew you too well, thought they could get away with things they’d never think of trying with a more senior officer.

  “A tempting offer, but I’m used to working with Masterman Chalker,” Sandry said. And enjoyed the look Maydreo gave him. None of the others had been allowed to bring a valet.

  Sandry had had independent command rarely in Tep’s Town and never for more than a few days. Now he was in charge, and that would last for weeks.

  Quintana had come to Peacegiven Square just before the expedition was to leave. He had dinner served to him in the Registry Office, then summoned Sandry. Sandry expected to find the whole council, but Quintana was alone, no guards, no one at all. His greeting was perfunctory. Then: “Something’s been on your mind,” Quintana said. “Ever since you came back from Avalon. Want to tell me?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Well, you will anyway. Spit it out.”

  Sandry frowned, then shrugged. “Lord Regapisk was on the boat. As an oarsman. Chained to a bench.”

  Quintana nodded. “I knew that—forgot it would be on that boat. He tried to get you to buy him free, of course.”

  “Yes, sir, and I promised I’d do it, only—”

  “Only what?”

  “He started talking about what he’d say to you.”

  Quintana nodded.

  “So we both know what you’d do to him if he came back,” Sandry said. “And I don’t want him dead.”

  “Neither do I,” Quintana said slowly. “Not that it would keep me from feeding him to the crabs. Sandry, when we give an order, it has to mean something. If we say, ‘Don’t come back,’ it means don’t come back, and that has to apply to Lords as much as to Lordkin and kinless. Lordkin put up with our rules because they see them as fair, mostly, and we treat our real kin the same way as Lordkin.”

  “At least it has to look that way,” Sandry said.

  “Precisely. So you did the right thing. Reggy won’t be on that bench forever. Your Aunt Shanda has made arrangements. They’ll take him a long way off and arrange that he gets paid as long as he stays there. And maybe the trip will teach him something.”

  “Yes, sir…”

  “And you’re right, that isn’t why I wanted to see you.” Quintana inspected him closely. It was impossible to guess what the Lord Chief Witness was thinking.

  “You’re young for this,” Quintana told him. “The council would rather send someone with more experience. You do have connections with the Wagonmaster, and that’s all to the good. But do you know why I’m putting you in charge?”

  “I’m the only one who ever captured a terror bird.”

  Quintana nodded. “Yes, and that’s the public reason. Now I’ll tell you the council’s real reason. You’re deniable.”

  “Sir?”

  “Sandry, you’re smart enough to see that we’re in trouble. Yangin-Atep is myth. The Greenway is open. Kinless can leave when they want to, and more and more will want to when they hear how well they can do outside.”

  “Can’t blame them, sir.”

  “I can’t either, but the Lordkin won’t like it. They’ll try to stop the kinless from running away. And what do we do then?”

  “I don’t know, sir.”

  “Neither do I, yet, but I have to decide. One thing is sure, the old balance between kinless and Lordkin is over. Right now everyone’s scared of us. Everybody on the coast wants to hire trained Lordsmen. But Sandry, we don’t have—we can’t afford—a big enough army to fight off the Lordkin if they ever get organized.”

  Sandry nodded. “I’ve thought of that.”

  “So. Right now we run things because we always have. We have to find better reasons than that if you want to keep that home of yours from being a Lordkin clan house.” Quintana shrugged. “We’ve always been pretty good at trading up and down the coast. Now we have to learn more, learn to be master traders. That girl you’re smitten with could be important to us.”

  “Sir? What does that mean?”

  “I think you know. If you’re both still interested in each other when you get back, come see me. I’ll handle Shanda.”

  It was hard to suppress the foolish grin Sandry felt creeping across his face.

  “When you get back,” Quintana said. “But understand, Lord Sandry, if you do get in big trouble and get your command wiped out, we can say, ‘Well, he was young; we sent him to keep the traders happy,’ and maybe, just maybe, we won’t lose so much of our reputation that the whole damn city comes down around our ears.”

  “Oh.”

  Quintana smiled faintly. “On the other hand, if you do everything just right, we can say that even our junior officers with a few troops can do things nobody else can. One more thing. That was the reasoning of the council. It’s not mine.”

  “Sir?”

  “It’s not
my reasoning. I’m sending you south with everything I can spare because I damned well think you’re the best man I could pick. Dismissed.”

  Chapter Two

  Bloodberries

  And now the three chariots rode ahead, partly on watch but always very much in training. Whenever the Greenway ahead was wide enough, the lead chariot would drop a target and the next would charge forward and wheel past it, and the Younglord spearman would throw or thrust his spear into the sack of hay. The last chariot would recover the spear and target and take over as lead. Peacevoice Fullerman rode in the first bison-drawn wagon and kept score.

  Sandry and Chalker rode just ahead of the lead wagon. Sandry worried about his elderly valet, but Chalker seemed content enough. He leaned against the chariot side, but that seemed to be the only concession to his age.

  Burning Tower rode alongside Sandry’s chariot. She had her bonehead pony, a new one bought from a kinless in Tep’s Town, for more gold than a kinless might see in five years. As they moved up the Greenway away from Tep’s Town, the pony grew larger, changed from gray to white, and the bump on its head became a horn. The growth was noticeable after the first day, more so the next morning.

  It also became more noticeably a stallion. She called it Spike, and blushed a little at Spike’s obvious interest in the mares among the horses Sandry had brought. Today Sandry’s chariot was drawn by his favorite team, Blaze and Boots, a stallion and a gelding. Spike ignored the gelding, but his challenge to Blaze was obvious.

  Another problem, Sandry thought. But it would be good to learn how horses and one-horns acted toward each other. Tep’s Town had always bred horses, and now that they understood the real nature of the kinless ponies—now that magic was somehow coming back to Tep’s Town—the opportunity was clear. One-horns were in demand all along the Hemp Road. Sandry smiled slightly at the thought. I worried about finding a career. Now I’m a Fireman and troop leader, and I’m learning to be a horse and one-horn breeder.