The Chronicles Of Hvad Ch 13

HVAD CHAPTER 13

The Grey River separates Adarion from northern Izumyr. It was wider, and flowed more swiftly than I'd expected. The current was swollen by spring melt off the mountains to the north. Now I understood why there was no bridge. The only way across was by ferry, or by small boat.

There was no one at the ferry dock, unless you counted the drunk sleeping on his back, with a hat over his face. I could smell the rotgut liquor off him from five feet away. I approached from upwind, and nudged his leg with my foot.

I nudged him twice more, with no more success. Then I stepped on his foot, and put half my weight behind it.

- "Oww!" The sleeping drunkard peeled the hat back a little bit. "Whaat?" he complained.

- "Where is the ferry?" I asked. I spoke slowly, and enunciated the words carefully.

He replaced the hat, and lay back. "Udder side." he mumbled.

- "When will it be back?"

The drunken sot didn't answer. I put all of my weight on his foot this time.

- "Ooooww! Whaaat?" He sat up quickly, and the hat fell from his face.

- "When will it be back?"

- "It's on'ee udder side." He twisted around, to look behind him. "S' nobody here annyways! E'en if it comes back, y'aren't gettin' cross today. Go t' the inn." He pointed at a decrepit little building that looked like a barn.

- "That's an inn?"

- "Yeah. Can I go back t'sleep, or you gonna step on me again?"

I walked away. The moment I did, a scruffy boatman sidled up to me. He must have been napping in his boat, pulled up on the strand forty yards downriver.

- "I can take you across, Master." he said, bobbing and nodding.

- "When?"

- "Now. This very moment, if you wish."

- "How much?"

He named a sum so outrageous, so extortionate, that I choked.

"You can't be serious."

- "The ferrymen will charge you only half that much, Master. But they will not cross the river for you alone. You will have to wait for more passengers. So you will have to spend the night in that pigsty they call an inn, where they will gouge you again for stew made the day before yesterday, filthy rotgut, and a flea-ridden cot. A whore will cost you even more."

- "I've

killed

men for less money than you're asking." I said. "And I'm accustomed to sleeping under the stars."

He wasn't intimidated. "It is your choice, Master. But better for both of us, really, if you go with me. I can get you across you today - with your health unimpaired."

The boatman was Izumyrian - that explained his curiously formal manner of speaking. He had mastered our vocabulary, but not the fluent flow of a native speaker. He was also persuasive. In the end I accepted to go with him, for a little less than he had originally asked.

The crossing was ... harrowing. There was barely enough room for the three of us. My pony had never been on the water, either, and she didn't like it any better than I did.

The boat bobbed and rocked - I was terrified that it would tip over and pitch us all into the fast-rushing water. My horse's nostrils were flared, her eyes wide with fear. I whispered to her, stroking her muzzle.

The boatman plied his oars skilfully - at least, I think he did. To make room for my horse, he was sitting in the very back of the boat. Somehow, I didn't think that was the best place for him to be. Every stroke, he pulled with surprisingly powerful arms, and the little craft dipped at the back. Another few fingers' breadth, and the water would pour into the boat.

- "Is it always this rough?" I asked.

- "Rough?" He chuckled. "There is no wind at all, today. This is as calm as it gets."

- "But the current - it seems so fast. Strong."

- "Always, in the spring. Now you know why it costs money to cross the Grey."

I vowed never to cross the Grey river again - well, once more - but that would be the last time. I never again wanted to see a body of water bigger than the little pond in the forest. That got me thinking of Payl, and of washing her hair, and I forgot where I was for a few moments.

To my surprise, the Izumyrian side of the river looked much like the Hvadi side. I don't know why I was expecting it to look different.

- How do I get to Lacine?" I asked the boatman, after I had paid him. That was the largest Izumyrian town in the north - and the seat of the Duke, Barsam's father.

- "You will find a road, up there." he pointed. The current had carried us farther downriver than I had expected. "A day - two, at most. You cannot miss it."

***

I had to laugh at my own ignorance. Hvad town had always seemed to me like a disturbed anthill, with far too many people for its own good. I didn't understand how they could live side by side, or one family atop another. It stank of too many cooking fires and far too many bodies.

Lacine was simply immense. The smoke from its chimneys made me think, at first, that the city was under attack. But no one else acted as if anything was out of the ordinary. There was a wall around the entire city! As I drew nearer, I began to realize that the wall was over three times my height, and several feet thick.

I tried to ride into the city, but gave up and turned around. It was simply too loud: everyone seemed to be yelling, at the top of their lungs. And the smells that assaulted my nostrils! Some of them I couldn't identify, but most seemed to consist of fecal matter, urine, and unwashed bodies.

So I backtracked, and then skirted the outer wall. Perhaps I could get used to this place a little at a time.

Borna's luck seemed to have rubbed off on me. There was a large camp of armed men outside the city. I saw dozens of tents, and exercise yards where men were training with weapons, while others were riding their enormous horses.

I watched for a while. I counted just over 500 men, but only 200 horses. Still, if the rumours were true, and the Izumyrians liked to fight from horseback, then we were in deep trouble.

They wouldn't have to strike us with swords, or pierce us with lances. No Hvadi druzhina could stand against them in the open field. Those massive beasts would simply ride over us, and trample us into the dirt.

Borna would have to take to the forests. The Izumyrians would scoff at our warriors. And they would laugh at our steadings, if they built walls this high.

Three men on horseback rode towards me. I waited, and watched them come. They rode well - I had to give them that. They wore steel helmets, and all three wore coats of chain-link mail. Elite members of the Prince's druzhina, I supposed.

Up close, they towered over me on their huge horses.

- "What're you doing here?" asked one of them.

- "I come to help the Prince."

- "Where d'you come from?"

- "Hvad." I said.

One of the men frowned, while a second curled his lip.

I didn't react. Back home, had a man made a face like that at me, I would have struck him. An Uplander would probably have stabbed him. But I wasn't going to get close to their Prince if I attacked the first men I met.

The man who had spoken did nothing overtly insulting, but the expression on his face plainly showed that he didn't think much of me either.

- "This way." he said. He led the way, while the other two followed.

As we rode towards their training field, one of the riders behind me spoke to his comrade.

- "Fatty bastards." he said. He spoke much louder than he had to, so I knew that I was meant to hear. "Fuckin' animals."

-"

That's not what your sister said.

" I said, in my own language.

- "What'd he say?"

- "How the fuck would I know?" replied his companion.

- "Hey, Fatty - what did you say?" called the first speaker.

That was when I realized that they were calling

me

'Fatty'. They couldn't be bothered to pronounce 'Hvadi' correctly. Or perhaps they found it too difficult. But I had a sneaking suspicion that it was a childish insult.

The lead rider turned in the saddle. "What's yer problem, Chon?"

- "I wanna know what the Fatty said. He said sumthin'."

- "What did you say?" the leader asked me.

- "Your horses are very impressive." I replied. "But you may inform your friends: to make faces at a Hvadi warrior - as they do - is to ask for trouble."

He gave me a slow look with narrowed eyes.

- "Right."

They took me into their camp, where we dismounted. I waited while the first man spoke to a warrior wearing a steel breastplate. It was less ornate than the one we had taken from Leho, but it had probably seen more service.

As he listened to his soldier's report, the man glanced at me more than once. He looked to me like a veteran, a leader - or even a Hand. His brown hair was cut short, and his beard was neatly trimmed. He had a patch of grey hair on his chin, and touches of grey at the temple. His nose was red-veined, and his eyes seemed a little watery.

- "Thank you, Sergeant." he said. "I'll take it from here." He walked over to me, and nodded a perfunctory greeting.

"You came to join the Prince?" he asked.

- "I did."

- "You're one of the Ban's men?"

- "Pardon?"

- "Lord Daginis? The Ban of Adarion?" He mispronounced the name, but I chose not to correct him. I was also surprised that they were calling Dagnis a Ban already, but I suppose it was understandable enough that he would claim his brother's position. He

was

Leho's heir; all he needed was the support of three or more of Adarion's Hospodars.

- "No." I said. "I have no doings with him."

- "Oh?"

- "My name is Priit." I told him. It was the alias that Borna and I had agreed on. I couldn't claim to be from Adarion; if I ran into another Hvadi, my lie could be exposed too easily. So I told the Captain that I was from Yeseriya, and that I had served Mushtal, the son of the Hospodar Asrava. I claimed that Borna was my enemy, and that I was here to fight against him.

- "I see." said the Captain.

He didn't.

His name was Ingram. He was the leader of a lance

[1]

- I didn't know what that was, at the time. He was also reasonably polite - for an Izumyrian. Ingram seemed genuinely curious about me, and about Hvad in general, but what he knew about my country and its people could have been written on the palm of my hand - and I would still have had room for a short love poem.

- "May I ask you - what kind of faces did those men make at you?"

I looked over his shoulder. "Them?"

- "Yes."

I mimicked the frown, and the curling of the lip.

- "And this would get you into a fight, in Fad?" said Ingram.

- "At least, Captain. In Uplands, it get you killed."

He seemed to like my answer. He especially liked that I wasn't shy about saying this loud enough for the frowner and the lip-curler to hear.

- "We'll take care of you, Master Preet." said Captain Ingram.

***

'Taking care of me', it turned out, meant escorting me to an inn outside the city walls, on the northern road. The other occupants, to a man, were all Hvadi.

When I entered the Golden Pheasant - for so its weather-beaten signboard proclaimed it - I felt like I was back in Hanik Sawtooth's 'Hall', in the Uplands. The only difference was that this inn had more tables, and a little more light filtering through its ancient shutters.

It was filthy, and stank of stale beer, urine, and fermented body odour. This potent melange would have brought tears to old Sawtooth's eyes.

There were eleven men seated in the common room. I heard them speaking Hvadi as I came through the door. They immediately fell silent, and glared at me.

As I learned later, they were all from Adarion, men who had fled with Dagnis. He and his Hand were quartered elsewhere, but his eleven retainers had all been stuffed into this shabby inn.

Our host was a surly little man, with a perpetually sour expression on his ferret-like face. He was not at all pleased to see me.

I came to understand his displeasure, to a point. His 'guests' could barely speak Izumyrian. They also had very little money. They would have been happy to get drunk, but Dagnis kept them on short commons. The so-called Ban was as parsimonious as his late brother, apparently.

So these Hvadi 'savages' (which was how the Izumyrians saw us) sat in the inn every night, with nothing to do. They frightened off any other customers - if the Pheasant

had

any regular patrons.

Every day, I rode out to the training field and watched the Izumyrians. The idiots from Adarion didn't, unless Dagnis was there. I saw him looking my way once, briefly, but he had never met me before. Besides, he was such a snob that I'm sure I was beneath his contempt.

At first, the men from Adarion sneered and treated me the way we treat Uplanders. I wasn't prepared to fight all eleven at once, so I kept my mouth shut. Then when they saw that I had money, they tried to befriend me, and cadge drinks from me. They also tried to lure me into their dice games, thinking they could cheat me. I gave them short shrift, which they didn't appreciate.

That's when I had to introduce one of the idiots to my elbow, and slam another's head into a supporting beam. When the rest rose to their feet, planning to beat me senseless, I drew my long knife.

Luckily for me, they were cowards, and unaccustomed to working together. There was no natural leader to take charge, either.

Also, the innkeeper preferred me to them (I paid for my drinks). He came running at the commotion, and saw me backed into a corner, facing nine angry men. Our host let out a scream, and ran off through the door. He was probably just trying to get away, but the men from Adarion were afraid that he was going to fetch Izumyrian soldiers.

They may also have been afraid of me. I was able to edge my way to the door, and walk out, my head still high.

But that little encounter made a change of lodgings advisable. I didn't want to wake up to find eleven men pummelling me with cudgels, or staves. If they were angry enough, daggers weren't entirely out of the question.

I didn't return to the inn that night. Instead, I rode out to the training field, and slept on the ground, far away from the Izumyrian tents.

The next morning, I found Captain Ingram as early as I could.

- "Would you recommend some other inn for me?" I asked him.

- "Why? Something wrong with the one you're at?"

- "I had disagreement with other patrons." I said.

- "But that's why we sent you there." he replied. "There weren't supposed to

be

any other patrons. Only you Fadi."

- "I understand. You keep us away from people, because they think we are savages. But my disagreement was with Hvadi. Other Hvadi."

I told Ingram what had happened. He was honest enough to blush, when I put my finger on the reason why they had segregated us outside the city wall. But he also seemed to understand my predicament.

- "You don't think you can go back there."

- "It might not go well for me."

- "Stay here." Captain Ingram went off - I imagine it was to consult a superior.

While he was gone, I spotted two of Dagnis' men, on horseback, watching me from the edge of the training field. Where there were two, there could easily be more. Sure enough, I managed to locate another pair, on foot, at the very end of a row of tents. All of this I did without letting them know that I had seen them.

Ingram came back, looking like he had just received a tongue-lashing, or a dressing-down from someone higher up the chain of command.

- "I'm sorry. Fadi aren't ... You're not allowed to stay inside the city walls."

- "I cannot return there." I said. "Is there some other inn outside city? Sorry -

the

city."

Ingram was not a great frequenter of inns. But he did take my situation seriously enough; he went out of his way to ask a few others who might know. He persevered until he came up with a solution.

- "There might be a place." he told me. "It's on the south road, on the other side of town." He pointed to a young man. "Lir, here, says that they have very good beer. It might suit you."

- "How do I find this?"

- "I'll take you there." said Ingram.

- "That is very kind." I said.

He laughed. "Maybe. But after telling Baron Voss about you, I wouldn't look too good if you turned up hurt - or worse."

- "I agree. Let us avoid 'worse.'"

Captain Ingram and his personal attendant - the young man named Lir, who turned out to be his nephew - escorted me around the city. They were surprised that my little pony could keep up with their much larger horses.

We discussed the relative merits of both breeds. Poke an Izumyrian, I discovered, and he will talk your ear off about horses. I also contrived to get Ingram talking about this Baron Voss. I wanted to know who he was, and how close he might be to Barsam.

- "He commands a hundred, including my lance. He's got considerable influence with the Duke's son, Prince Barsam."

Ingram and his nephew were both very friendly. Unfortunately, I was a bit distracted, because when I looked behind us, I spotted two of Dagnis' men following us. They stayed far back, but kept us in sight.

- "How is it that you speak such good Izumyrian, Preet?" asked Lir. "The Fadi I've met know only a few words. And isn't Adarion the province closest to us? You were farther away, weren't you? How did you learn?"

I couldn't tell him the truth, obviously. So I used the lie that Borna and I had concocted. "When I fled - after my master was killed - I took refuge in Hvad town. There were Izumyrian merchants there, and I convinced one to teach me, in return for serving as his bodyguard."

- "Really? What was his name?"

- "Keptel." I said.

- "Where is he now?" asked Lir. It seemed to be simply his genuine curiosity, but I was running short of prepared lies.

So I showed Lir my teeth. "I killed him, and ate his heart."

Lir looked confused. Luckily, Ingram laughed aloud, and the moment passed.

The Marga looked like a hunting lodge, with a stable attached. Even from the outside, it appeared to be a significant improvement on the Golden Pheasant. Ingram and Lir handed their horses to an ostler, and then asked me to wait outside while they 'set me up'.

With nothing better to do, I followed the horse-handler into the stable. He immediately watered and fed the two horses, and then began to rub them down. I was surprised: I hadn't seen any coins change hands. Yet this fellow was taking care of these horses as if they were his own.

I looked after my pony, then left her there while I went out to take a second look at the inn's exterior.

That was when I saw two of Dagnis' men waiting just outside the door. A little farther on, another of them was holding the reins of four ponies. There was a fourth, then. He might be inside - but my guess was that he was working his way around the buildings, so as to take me in the rear.

- "You're fuckin' dead, asswipe." said the taller of the pair by the door.

It was helpful of him to make their intention plain. I wasn't going to get off lightly, with a beating. Waiting wouldn't help me at all. So I walked straight at them.

It isn't natural to confront two armed men when you're alone. They must have been expecting me to cower, or to plead. One took a step back, looking around for further support. The other drew his knife. Too late.

I pulled out my own knife, and suddenly sprinted the last few steps between us. Had he really expected me to advance at a steady, predictable pace? I feinted at the tall one's face. He obliged by raising his weapon. At the last possible moment, I lowered my own blade, and stabbed him, just below the breastbone.

My foot came up, and I kicked him off the end of my knife. His shorter companion had just drawn his own weapon, but he staggered when his friend fell against his leg. I closed the distance between us, and chopped down at the juncture of neck and shoulder. I smashed his collarbone, and possibly even fractured the top of his ribcage.