A Crown Disowned by Andre Norton
"No," Ashen said. "I had hoped to arrive before—" She clutched at his sleeve, suddenly alarmed. "Who is hurt? Rohan?"
"He has a few scratches, but is unharmed. I was able to send a detachment of our forces to his relief. A few of the young Rendelian nobles were too rash and got their first scars today, but most of the wounded are our foot-soldiers."
"Is there an infirmary?"
"Yes. However, their supplies are already running low."
"I will go there at once, and see what I can do."
"As for me," Royance said, "if you will find me a tent somewhere, and a bed, I find that I need a little rest before I can make myself useful. Driving a dog-sled at my age—"
Gaurin smiled, despite the gravity of the situation. "Sir, your staunchness shames the rest of us lesser men. I doubt that any of us could have accomplished what you have."
"With enough need pushing you, you could. But now that I am here, I am weary the way I was not, on the journey."
Reges of Lerkland limped past. He had a fresh bandage around the lower part of one leg. Gaurin called to him. "Would you please see to Lord Royance? He needs a place to rest himself."
"It would be my privilege. If you don't mind sharing a tent, sir," Reges said.
"I've slept on the ground, in the open, often enough on campaign, though not in the snow if I could help it," Royance answered stoutly.
"Well, here you'll at least have shelter, and some warm food. Please follow me, sir."
Royance waved at Gaurin and Ashen, starting off with Reges. Jervin, close as a shadow, trailed behind his master.
"When you have rested a little, we shall speak about this, er, business you mentioned, sir," Gaurin said.
"Yes. In the meantime, Ashen can give you the tale, but keep in mind that hers is evidence from the heart, and not what can be seen or touched."
"I will, sir."
Then Royance and the young man disappeared from view down one of the makeshift streets of the camp.
Gaurin turned to Ashen. "Before you go to the wounded, we must talk. In private."
He led her to his own tent, giving orders to a passing soldier that a jug of hot soup be brought at once. Inside the shelter, a war-kat reclined comfortably on
Gaurin's camp bed fastidiously cleaning its fur and another dozed in the folding chair. "Rajesh, Finola, please get down. This is my lady, Ashen. Make your manners."
The two beautiful creatures roused themselves and stalked over to her. She had the impression that they did so not out of obedience, but rather from curiosity.
"May I touch them?" she asked.
"Yes. They will not hurt you."
She stroked their heads, cautiously at first, and then with growing confidence as the war-kats rubbed against her. "I didn't see any of these except at a distance, before you marched off from Rendelsham. They are quite splendid. Are they really as fierce in battle as people say?"
"Later I will tell you about how they teased an Ice Dragon that was attacking us. But now, I want to hear what you have come such a long and dangerous way to tell me."
They sat, Gaurin on the side of his bed and Ashen in the chair, with the war-kats close by, their heads conveniently placed so the humans could scratch them behind their ears. She accepted the cup of hot soup gratefully, and then as she sipped it she outlined for her husband the terrible thing that had happened to Lady Marcala, and the even more dreadful accusations she had made.
"The Dowager was inclined to put it down to Marcala's illness," Ashen finished.
"But you believe her," Gaurin said. It was not a question.
"Yes, I do. Her evidence was enough for me, given what I have seen with my own eyes. Not to mention the matter of my necklace."
"Then it surely is enough to warrant some close questioning of the gentleman in question. But Lady Marcala— how is she?"
"She still lived, when Lord Royance and I left Rendelsham, but was very ill.
After so many days—I don't know."
"I will send word that all the officers are to meet in the counsel tent," Gaurin said. His eyebrows were drawn together in a stern line. "Stay here."
"No, I will go to the infirmary tents instead."
"Very well. Just be where I can find you, in case you are needed." His expression softened slightly. "Royance must have his rest disturbed, I fear."
"He will not mind," Ashen said. "He knows the necessity."
"Hynnel's tent is nearby. We will meet there. I must discuss this matter with
Royance before we give the others this dismal news, and I want my kinsman with me for his good counsel."
He arose from where he had been sitting on the camp bed, and Ashen likewise stood. He embraced her and, for a moment, she allowed herself to luxuriate in his presence. "How I have missed you," she said.
"We are together now. After we have settled this vexed question, I will consider whether I can bear to send you back or not."
Ashen's heart beat a little faster at his words. "I will go now and start helping with the wounded."
He kissed her lightly before they left the tent. The war-kats had to be left behind against their wishes. They wanted to follow Ashen, and they were dissuaded only when she reassured them that she would see them later.
Harous made his way through the camp, glad of the hubbub that allowed him to pass almost unmarked. He barely acknowledged the salutes of his guards outside the command tent, his goal his private quarters beyond.
"There is water heated. Shall we bring it, sir?" one of the guards asked.
"Yes. Set it on the table in the main room, and I will manage for myself. If anyone wants to see me, say that I am not to be disturbed."
All he wanted was to strip off his sweat-soaked garments, to be dry and cool once more. He could not bear the thought of laving his body in hot water. Nor did he wish anyone's company just now. He felt he could not even endure the light of a candle.
As he hauled a sodden mass of layered tunics over his head, he caught a familiar scent. A delicate touch on his back made his skin tingle from head to foot. Was he dreaming? Was his imagination, fired by the fever that wracked him, now going to torment him with ghosts?
"You are not dreaming." Flavielle spoke hardly above a whisper.
The fragrance of her perfume enveloped him. She pointed one finger and lighted a candle without touching it. Then she helped him off with the soiled clothing, handing him a soft woolen robe. The bell outside his private doorway sounded, indicating that the guard had brought the water as instructed. She waited long enough to give the man time to leave. Then, cautiously making certain that the main room of the tent was deserted, she brought the steaming basin into the inner chamber.
Flavielle made him lie down on the camp bed. She sprinkled a few drops of an elixir into the water and crystals of ice formed around the edges. Soaking a cloth in the mixture, she loosened the robe, and began, patiently, to wash his body. The icy water felt wonderfully refreshing.
"You are ill, my own," she said. "More than you should be. What is the matter?"
"I feared that you were dead. There were two Dragons, and you said you would be overseeing the battle, the ambush, and one Dragon died in an avalanche and the other was wounded—"
"Sssssh." She touched her fragrant fingertips to his lips. "The Dragon caught by the snow was, indeed, mine."
"But you live!
"Do you think so little of me? Did you believe my Power so slight that I could not escape that or even greater danger?"
"I am never afraid, but I was, this time, for your sake."
Having finished washing the sweat from his body, she drew the robe around him again. "There. You will feel better soon," she said.
"I am better already, but whether it is the potion you used on me or merely your presence, I do not know."
The Sorceress arose and began searching his clothes chest for fresh garments.
The soiled ones still lay in a heap, and she kicked them into a corner. "When you dress ag
For the first time it registered on him that she wore only a thin tunic, belted at the waist. Even when she was outside, this was covered by an equally light cloak. "And yet you are warm, in the snow," he marveled.
"Yes. Here, drink this—all of it."
She held another vial, similar to the one from which he had drunk before, to his lips. Again he swallowed the contents without question. She put her hand on his forehead for a moment.
"Your fever is gone now," she said. "When it comes upon you again, do not worry.
Know that it is only your former life burning itself away, making you worthy of acceptance by the Great One Whom All Serve, and who is my special master. Before long I shall take you to him myself, let him know of your great deeds, how valuable an ally you are and how dear to me. Perhaps he will even bless our union. But that will come later. Tomorrow you must confer with your generals."
"Don't leave me."
"It is only for a little while. I must find my lieutenant, Farod, and the other riders. Also Chaggi, the leader of our Frydian allies. We have some rallying of our own to do, you know, for while there was no clear victory on either side, still there were losses. I will take one of the remaining Dragons. I was not expecting to be tumbled head over heels and nearly buried beneath a mountain of snow." She smiled a little ruefully. "I did not think your warriors would be so resourceful."
"That was Gaurin's doing. He is a Nordor, and he could recognize that the snow was ripe to fall."
"Gaurin. I will mark the name."
She kissed him. With a gesture, she dimmed the candle until it gave off no light though it continued to burn. In the gloom he could sense that she had left. Then the light flared up again.
In command of himself once more, he arose from the camp bed and began to dress in the fresh, lighter-weight tunic she had laid out for him. The sweaty garments still lay in the floor. He called one of the guards, instructing that the sodden mess be taken to the laundresses.
On the morrow, he would confer with his officers after he had gone over the reports that would be coming to him shortly. It would be interesting to see what new plan of battle they would devise, and even more interesting to think of ways to turn it against them.
Eleven
LordRoyance,"Gaurinsaid, "Harous will not be expecting you. Should we not inform him that you are here?"
"In due time. For the moment, I would rather let my presence be a surprise."
With a little rest and warm food, the old gentleman had regained much of his strength and all of his aura of command. He sat on the camp bed in Hynnel's tent, a war-kat dozing beside him, its head pillowed on his knee. It was not one that Gaurin recognized, but this independent breed often napped where it pleased.
Gaurin, Hynnel, and Lathrom found places for themselves as they awaited Rohan's arrival. Only Gaurin and Royance knew the particulars, but the others were well aware there were grave matters to be discussed. Their demeanor reflected curiosity and concern. In a few moments the young Sea-Rover ducked through the opening. A fresh bandage was wrapped around his forehead.
"Please pardon my tardiness. I wanted to see how Bitta was faring after we got her back to camp."
"Is she badly hurt?" Hynnel asked.
"Her paw is swollen and bruised, and the physician thinks one of the small bones is broken. Someone must have managed to strike a blow with a mace or a club."
Rohan stopped abruptly and rubbed the back of his neck, frowning a little.
"She is young yet, and has learned a valuable lesson at a relatively small cost," Gaurin said. "Now we come to the reason why we have gathered. Lord
Royance, please tell our trusted companions of what you have learned. There is no time to lose; we must confer quickly."
In quick, terse terms, the old nobleman outlined the accusations against Harous, not failing to include such extenuating evidence as he could muster. For a moment, there was complete silence in the tent. The drowsy war-kat shifted, making itself even more comfortable against Royance's leg.
Lathrom was the first to speak. "I am the only native Rendelian here," he said, gazing at Royance, "saving your lordship. If there has ever been treachery like this before in this country, I have not heard of it. Or elsewhere."
"Not in the Land of Ever Snow," Hynnel said.
"Nor with the Sea-Rovers," Rohan said. He rubbed the back of his neck. "It is unthinkable—if it is true."
"Therein lies the problem," Royance said. "How do we prove this?"
"Ashen sets great store by that necklace," said Gaurin,
"and the evidence of her own eyes is compelling."
"And yet it is tainted by magic," Royance pointed out. "On both sides."
"I have heard a description of something similar if not identical. It sounds like a Diadem of Concealment," Hynnel said slowly. "It is a headband," he explained when the others looked at him inquiringly. "In it is set a gem with which the Diadem creates the fog. This fog is, naturally, most dense around the wearer's head."
"But wouldn't the wearer be blinded?" Lathrom asked.
"No, for he is inside the enchantment," Hynnel replied. "It does not affect him personally."
"It is unfortunate that no one thought to search Cragden Keep for this Diadem,"
Royance said.
Gaurin raised his eyebrows. "Perhaps Harous has it with him."
"Probably. Such an item could be very valuable to anyone, particularly to someone who wanted to conceal his identity." Lathrom laughed. "An excellent tool for a spy."
"Supposedly, during the storm, we sent out spies to nearly freeze themselves.
They came back with very little information judging from the way the battle went. I did not notice that our Lord High Marshal offered his magical protection to any of them," Hynnel stated dryly. "If, indeed, there were any. However, spies or no spies, I have a problem picturing Count Harous as a traitor."
"We all have problems picturing him as a traitor," Lathrom said flatly.
"Nonetheless, the evidence against him seems strong."
Rohan appeared to be lost in thought. "The rod," he said.
The others in the tent turned to stare at him questioningly. He frowned and rubbed the back of his neck again, as if something there was fretting him.
"You remember. Well, Lord Royance, you wouldn't, but the rest would. The rod with the handle that I brought back from when the Sea-Rovers killed the first
Dragon."
"Yes?" prompted Gaurin.
"Well, when we gave it to Harous for safekeeping, he put it in a chest in the command tent. I remember noticing that there was a lock on the chest, but didn't think anything of it at the time. I also remember noticing that when he put the thing inside, it clanked as if striking another piece of metal."
"Perhaps that was the Diadem," Lathrom observed.
"And perhaps not," Gaurin said. "We cannot speculate on what we do not know for certain."
"Then I will go and ask our Lord High Marshal to show me the chest, and its contents," Lord Royance stated firmly. "It is entirely within my right to do so, being as this is one of our enemy's deadly weapons."
"And then, when the chest is opened—"
"I will see what else lies inside." Royance carefully slipped the war-kat's head from its pillow on his knee and arose from the camp bed. Roused, the war-kat shook its head and ears. Then it leapt up and bounded through the tent opening.
"Let us now hope that the other contents of Harous's chest are innocent,"
Royance continued. "In spite of everything, I am not eager to discover that he has turned against us. If that is the case, I fear that all is lost."
"Go and tell my lady of what was decided here," Gaurin said to Lathrom, "and then join us at the command tent."
Lathrom saluted and turned to do his lord's bidding. The others followed Gaurin in the direction in which the war-kat had already disappeared.
Harous, having finished a light meal, w
"Flaviellel" he exclaimed in pleasure as he jumped to his feet. "Oh, how glad I am to see you returned so soon! Come to me, dear one."
She allowed only a brief embrace. Again the scent of her perfume enveloped him.