THREE SISTERS Chapter 11
Thank you very much for your kind comments. For those who haven't seen it yet, there's a map for the Three Sisters at the very bottom of my author page, under 'Illustration Submissions'.
*****
Asphodels was on fire. It was where I had been born, and my three girls likewise. At least four of its houses were burning - and as we watched in disbelief, a fifth caught fire.
We sat in the boat, out on the lake, less than 200 yards away, and watched our old home burn. It made no sense: why would Bacho burn Asphodels?
There were folk running about now. We could see them, highlighted by the flames. Then I saw a strange shape. And another.
- "Horsemen?" said Yevna.
Bacho might have had a few horses. But Uplanders didn't fight on horseback - even the kind of fighting where you burn the houses of defenceless people.
Lowlanders might do that. But I doubted it.
- "Izumyrians?" asked my daughter.
Izumyrians
. Neighbours of Hvad, to the south. Ten times as populous as the Lowland Duchy, and twenty times as rich. According to my father, his grandmother Payl had fought against mounted warriors - Lowlanders who were copying the Izumyrians.
But why would they be here? We had no wealth to attract them. Nor were we any kind of threat to their conquest of Lowland Hvad.
I began rowing. We had delayed too long. I put my back into it - no one was going to hear any noise we made, in the burning village.
We rounded the Bend, and passed south of Piran's Point. Yevna and I saw it at the same time.
Nadestis - or Southend, as it was now called - was also on fire. Whoever these raiders were, they seemed to be attacking all along the south shore of the lake.
It was time to get out of there, and back to the others at Twin Points.
***
- "How many Izumyrians did you see?" asked Nameless.
Yevna was more concerned with the immediate practicalities. "Do we take both boats?"
Guenna answered before I had even made up my mind. "Why not? We can hide them. You never know when they might come in handy."
If we were taking both boats, then Yevna would have to row the second. She was strong, and had some experience on the water, which Giedra and Nameless did not.
Guenna joined me, while the other two went with Yevna. We rowed to the head of the lake as the morning sun grew stronger.
- "Was it hard for you, to see Asphodels on fire?' asked my youngest.
- "It's been ten years." I said. "Strange - but it didn't feel like
my
home was burning."
As I rowed, I thought about her question a little more. "What about you, pet? Where is home, for you?"
- "I was just thinking about that." she said. "It's odd. I spent a third of my life at Asphodels, but I don't remember it well enough. Then six years with Moruith, which I remember well - but it felt like we were guests there. Or just passing through."
"And now these past years on the Hill, which still seem so new."
- "It doesn't feel like home?"
- "It will." she said. "You, Yevna and Tan are there. In time, I suspect, it will become home. What's that?"
It took me a moment to realize that Guenna had seen something. She drew my attention to it, without pointing.
At the very top of the lake, on the eastern bank of the river, were four horsemen. Even as I watched, two of them dismounted, and led their horses to the very edge of the riverbank.
- "None of them have a bow." said Guenna.
They didn't look like Izumyrian cavalry, either. Or, at least, what I imagined Izumyrians would look like. One of them wore a fine chain mail shirt, but what little hair he had left was thin, stringy, and bright white. I wouldn't say that he had one foot in the grave, but he was well advanced into the winter of his years. His bright blue cloak had once been fine, too, but it was worn and travel-stained.
I doubted that the Izumyrians used elderly men as cavalry scouts. And unless they also employed pregnant women, then these weren't Izumyrians at all.
Except for the pregnant woman, I might have let them be, and just passed by. She had a delicate sort of beauty - alabaster skin, long black hair. She also held her head proudly, chin up, studying me with a mixture of haughtiness and defiance.
They definitely weren't Uplanders, so that left only one possibility: Lowlanders. Hvadi, on the run, by the look of them. An old man, a pregnant woman, and two troopers, one dressed a little finer than the other.
I rowed the boat closer to the bank, until I was only ten feet from shore.
- "Are they after you? The Izumyrians?" I asked.
The old man frowned. "Why do you ask?" he replied, in a gravelly voice.
- "I
was
going to row by," I said, "but I noticed that you look travel-worn and tired out. And one of you is pregnant. Meanwhile, horsemen are burning the village I grew up in - along with everything else south of the lake. Four Hvadi, lost in the Uplands. Izumyrian cavalry ... it's a busy day."
- "Who are you?" demanded the woman. None of the men bristled at her interruption, which told me that they deferred to her.
- "My name is Veran One-Eye." I said.
- "Do you know where we are?" asked the old man.
- "You're on the wrong side of the river." I said. "If you go east, your pursuers will catch up to you. North of you lies a great forest, whose inhabitants are ... inhospitable. They still take heads as trophies. You're unlikely to find help there."
- "How do we cross the river?" asked WhiteHair. "Is there a ford?"
- "No ford. No crossing. Not on horseback, at any rate."
Guenna wasn't saying a word. She sat still, listening and observing - and probably learned more than I did. The old man turned to the pregnant woman, and they exchanged a few whispers.
My daughter took advantage of that to do her own whispering.
- "We have to help them."
- "Why?"
- "She's pregnant."
- "I can see that." I said. "They're also Lowlanders."
- "Papa - she's
pregnant
."
Yevna drew near, with the second boat.
- "They're all ... women." said one of the younger Hvadi. He had an open, honest face. I liked him at first sight.
- "Are we helping them?" asked Yevna.
- "That depends." I said, loudly. "They haven't asked for any help. Nor have they told us who they are. It's hard to say, at the moment."
WhiteHair had the grace to flush. He knew that his little party were exhibiting shockingly bad manners.
- "Your pardon, Veran ... One-Eye. We are ... pursued, as you say. And we were advised to be ... wary, in the Uplands. Not to trust too readily."
I understood that. Someone had told them not to trust an Uplander as far as they could throw him. That wasn't necessarily bad advice.
"We do ask your assistance, though - if you can help us to evade our pursuers." he said.
- "We don't even know who you are." said Yevna.
The black-haired woman held her head even higher. The moment she began to speak, WhiteHair turned to her, waving his hand. Too late: she wasn't about to be shushed.