Down by the gates in the wall a crowd of people stood round, all staring toward the gate itself. Jahdo could just pick out the tall form of Councilman Verrarc toward the front of the mob.
Now whats that? Suka said. Looks like a merchant caravans coming in.
It does, truly. Ooh, I wonder where theyve been?
If you want to go see, lad, Ill keep the food here and cool for you.
Leaving the boat behind, Jahdo made his way to shore on foot, hopping from log to log. He arrived at the edge of the crowd just as the gates swung wide and a line of men and mules began to file through. Since he was the shortest person in the crowd, Jahdo couldnt see a thing. For a few minutes he trotted this way and that, hoping to find a way to squeeze through to the front, decided that he might as well give it up, then heard muttering and oaths from the front of the crowd. The press began to surge backwards, men swearing and stepping back fast though without turning to look where they were going. Jahdo tried to run, nearly fell, nearly panicked, and cried out.
Here, lad! Lael grabbed him. This be a bit dangerous for someone your size. Hang on, and Ill lift you up.
Da! I didnt even see you.
Ah, but I did see you, and I was heading your way.
Riding secure on his fathers shoulders Jahdo at last discovered the cause of the commotion. A pair of merchants on horseback, a pack of ordinary guards and a string of heavily laden mules had all marched by when, at the very end of the line, a man-like figure strode in, leading an enormous white horse laden with sacks and bundles. It was one of the Gel daThae, swinging a stout staff back and forth and side to side in front of him as he walked, as if he were clearing something out of his path.
He stood perhaps seven feet tall, roughly man-shaped with two short-ish but sturdy legs, a long torso, two long arms, and a face with recognizable man-like features but he was no man nor dwarf, either. His skin was as pale as milk in the places where it appeared between the lacings of his tight leather shirt and trousers, but his black hair was as coarse and bristling-straight as a boars. At the bridge of his enormous nose his eyebrows grew together in a sharp V and merged into his hairline. His hair itself plumed up, then swept back and down over his long skull to cascade to his waist. Here and there in this mane hung tiny braids, tied off with thongs and little charms and amulets. The backs of his enormous hands were furred with stubby black hair, too. His cheeks, however, were hairless, merely tattooed all over in a complex blue and purple pattern of lines and circles.
As he walked, he turned his head this way and that, to listen rather than look, because where eyes should have gleamed under his furred brows were only empty sockets, pale and knotted with scars.
Oh! Jahdo spoke without thinking, in his piping boys voice that cut through the noise of the crowd. He be blind.
With a toss of his maned head the Gel daThae stopped walking in front of Lael and swung toward the sound of Jahdos voice. He bared strong white teeth, with more than a hint of fang about the incisors.
Do you mock me, lad? Although he spoke in the language of the Rhiddaer, his voice growled out and rumbled, echoing back and forth like the waves of a storm slapping off a pier.
Never, never, Jahdo stammered. I be truly sorry. I were just so surprised.
No doubt. But youre an ill-mannered little cub nonetheless.
I am, sir, truly, and Ill try to learn better.
Ill-mannered and cowardly to boot. The Gel daThae paused, sniffing the air. Huh. I sense a man carrying you. Are you the lads father?
I am, Lael said, and his voice was steady and cold. And Ill speak for him. He be no coward, sir. He be shamed that he might have wounded your feelings.
The Gel daThae grunted, tucked his staff under one arm, and reached out an enormous hand to pat the side of Laels face. He reached higher, found Jahdos arm and patted that, then took his hand away and smelt his own palm.
Huh, sure enough, I sense no fear on the lad, but by all the gods and demons, as well, the pair of you stink of ferrets!
So we do, no doubt. Youve got a keen nose.
Hah! I may be blind, but a man would have to be dead to miss that scent. He seemed to be smiling, pulling thin lips back from his fangs. Well, a good day to you both and your weasel friends as well.
With a whistle to the huge horse, the Gel daThae walked off, tapping his way with the staff as he followed the jingling of the caravan along the curve of the lake, where a grassy stretch of shore was set aside for travelling merchants. Lael swung Jahdo down with a grunt.
Youd best mind your mouth after this, lad. You always did have a cursed big one.
I know, Da, and I truly truly be sorry.
No doubt. But the last thing we do want is to give insult to one of the Horsekin. Thats all they need, one word for a thin excuse, and they cry war. I hate to see one of them here for just that reason. If that bard goes taking offence, well have his clan riding at the head of an army to siege us.
How do you know hes a bard?
Because his eyes are gone. Thats what they do, when they decide one of their boy-children has the voice to make a bard. They do scoop his eyes right out with the point of a knife, because they do think it make his singing sweeter.
Jahdo nearly gagged. He turned sharply away, found himself staring up at Councilman Verrarc, and felt the blood drain from his face in a wave of cold fear.
Somewhat wrong, lad? Verrarcs voice was mild, but his stare was sharp and cold. You look frightened.
Oh, he had a bit of a run-in with that Gel daThae bard, Lael said, smiling. Hes never seen one of their tribe before.
Enough to scare anyone, that.
Whats he doing here, anyway? Lael went on.
Cursed if I know. Verrarc shrugged, visibly worried. Thats why the guards did fetch me and the rest of the council before they did let that lot in. Were going to pay him a visit, just to ask, like, down at the campground.
Think it be trouble?
I wish I knew, Lael, I wish I knew. As he walked by, he did tell me that hed come to claim a tribute we owe his kind. Weve got a web of treaties and obligations with these people, much as I wish we didnt, and so who knows what he means by it? Id best be finding out.
Verrarc turned away with a pleasant nod, but Jahdo felt his fear deepen to a clot like goats hair in his mouth. With a dream-like clarity he knew that showing his fear of the councilman was dangerous, that if Verrarc thought he remembered remembered what? The terror in the meadow. The hiss of a snake.
Well, lad, Lael said. You do look as white as Ive ever seen you. What be so wrong?
Jahdo was about to tell, then realized that the councilman lingered within earshot.
The bards eyes, Da, thats all. I keep imagining how that knife would feel when they did it.
A nasty thing, sure enough. Lael shuddered a bit himself. But theyre a strange lot all round, and cruel enough as well. Come along now, lets get home. We need to stop to claim a fee, too.
I did it already, Da. Mam told me to. I got a lot of roast goat from the Widow Suka.
Splendid. Lets go fetch it home, then.
Jahdo was about to tell, then realized that the councilman lingered within earshot.
The bards eyes, Da, thats all. I keep imagining how that knife would feel when they did it.
A nasty thing, sure enough. Lael shuddered a bit himself. But theyre a strange lot all round, and cruel enough as well. Come along now, lets get home. We need to stop to claim a fee, too.
I did it already, Da. Mam told me to. I got a lot of roast goat from the Widow Suka.
Splendid. Lets go fetch it home, then.
The news had preceded them to Citadel. As they were tying up the coracle, a handful of militiamen surrounded them. With the swing of one broad hand and a toss of his blonde head, Demet pushed his way to the front. The family had known him all their lives, just as most everyone knew everyone else in Cerr Cawnen.
Be it true, Lael? Demet burst out. Is one of the Horsekin in the city?
He is, and we did see him. A bard, and blind as a mole. Councilman Verrarc says hes come to claim some ancient due or service.
All the men swore, laying automatic hands on sword hilt or knife. Demet looked away to the distant shore and shaded his eyes with one hand, as if he were hoping to see the stranger.
I dont see why we had to go and make treaties with them, anyway, Jahdo said.
Better than being their slaves, lad, Lael said. Or the slaves of the wild tribes up to the north. Better to bargain with the Horsekin we know than fight the ones we dont, baint?
True spoken. Demet turned back to them. But Ill wager we call council fire tonight over this.
No one bothered to argue with him, and rightly so. Just at sunset the big bronze gong that hung at the top of Citadel began to clang and boom across the water. More ominous than thunder, each huge stroke hung in the darkening air. When Jahdo and his family left their quarters, he could see boats and coracles, skittering on their oars like so many waterbugs, as all round the shore the townsfolk swarmed across the lake. Every person who dwelt within earshot of the gong had the right to attend these councils and make their wishes known, man and woman alike, just as everyone had the right to vote for the Town Council, too. Out in the Rhiddaer there were no lords and kings. As the citizenry hurried up the steep streets of Citadel in a tide of rumour and fear, the family made its own way to the assembly ground.
In front of the stone council hall, which sported a colonnade and a flight of shallow steps, stretched a plaza, paved with bricks. Off to one side, the militia was heaping up wood for a bonfire to light the proceedings. Jahdo and Niffa scrambled to the top of the thick wall on the uphill side and watched the murmuring crowd grow larger and larger. Every now and then Jahdo would turn round and look back at the lake. Already in the cooler evening mists were rising over deep water. Since it was fed by hot springs, the lake ran warm. Just as the night grew thick, and the flames began to leap high from the fire, casting enormous shadows across the arches and pillars of the hall, the council barge tied up down at the jetty. From his perch Jahdo could see the torches bobbing along the twisted streets of Citadel and pick out the council members, too, as the procession panted its way up the steep hillside. Striding among them was the Gel daThae bard.
I be scared, Niffa said abruptly. I dont know why. I just feel so cold and strange, like.
Oh, hes not so bad, really. The bard, I mean. And this wont have anything to do with us.
Dont go being so sure, little brother. I never feel like this for no reason at all. Her voice stuck in her throat, and she paused, gulping for air. Lets get off this wall. Lets go find Mam and Da.
I dont want to. I cant see anything down in the crowd.
Jahdo, come on! You cant stay here.
He hesitated, considering, but taking orders from his sister rankled.
Wont. You go down if you want to.
You dolt! Come with me!
He shook his head in a stubborn no and refused to say a thing more. After a moment she slid down and plunged into the crowd like a swimmer into waves. He could just make her out, heading from clot to murmuring clot of townsfolk, until at last she fetched up next to Demet, standing guard near the fire itself. So thats it! Jahdo thought. She just wanted to find him, not Mam and Da at all.
Brass horns blared at the gates to the plaza. The crowd shrank back into itself, opening a narrow passage through for the councilmen, with Verrarc in the lead and Admi, the Chief Speaker, bringing up the rear. In the middle strode the Gel daThae, surrounded by councilmen, all murmuring to him at once, whether or not he could hear over the crowd and the horns. As they reached the steps, a squad of militiamen escorted them to the big stone rostrum near the fire. After some confused milling round, the clot opened again to let Admi climb the rostrum. A tall man with narrow shoulders but a big belly, he was going bald rather badly, so that he seemed made from perched spheres. In the firelight his head gleamed with sweat, and his tiny eyes peered out at the crowd through slits in heavy flesh. Yet when he spoke, his dark voice rang like gold.
Fellow citizens! We do have among us a guest, the honoured bard Meer of the Gel daThae.
Dutifully everyone clapped their hands, a patter of sound, dying fast.
He does come on grave purpose and with serious intent. Trouble brews in the far west. The wild tribes of the northern Horsekin are on the move.
It seemed that everyone in the plaza caught their breath hard. Even over the crackle of the bonfire their dismay hammered on the surrounding walls. Admi wiped his forehead with both hands, unconsciously pushing back hair he no longer had.
May the gods allow that this trouble stay among them! Admi went on. Yet who knows what the gods intend? The western Horsekin, our allies for all these long years, are fortifying their cities. From what Meer does tell me, it behooves us to look to our own. We go on full guard and military alert.
Murmurs, nods the crowd moved within itself, then fell silent. Jahdo inched closer along the wall. He could just see Meer, turning his head slowly back and forth, as if listening to the temper of the gathering.
Since Meer did travel long and hard to reach us, he will claim a reward, Admi continued. He would journey farther on, where none of our merchants do go, and he does need a servant and guide. Sightless as he is, he requires a lad to wait upon him in his roamings, now that he can no longer travel with a caravan.
Too late Jahdo remembered his sisters premonitions. He clung to the wall, paralysed like a rat cornered by a ferret, as Councilman Verrarc walked to the edge of the steps and looked his way. The traitor fire flared up and sent long lines of light to bind him to Verrarcs cold blue stare. In the crowd several men called out a question.
Hes heading east. In the stress of the moment Admi dropped his rhetoric. He says he does have business at the border. The one we share with the Slavers.
Jahdo turned so weak and cold that he nearly fell. He grabbed the rough stones to steady himself and swung down to hide in the muttering swarm of townsfolk. Too late Verrarc was speaking to the militiamen, summoning a pair, plunging into the crowd and heading straight for him. Jahdo tried to run, but caught in the forest of grown-ups he found no path. Verrarc laid a heavy hand on his shoulder and swung him round. The councilman was smiling.