Meanwhile, Pagar had again commenced raiding the Estcarp border. He, was strong on his throne, since many of those who opposed him seemed to die conveniently. There was more gossip about that, which ceased when people noticed that the gossipers also seemed to have a surprisingly high mortality rate. The raids carried on over the next few years, growing in strength and intensity. Pagar did not seem to mind his losses, nor, loaded with plunder from Estcarp’s border, did his men.
Then for the first time in many years, grief came to Aiskeep. Ciara’s daughter died. There had been no living child of the marriage, and Trovagh and Ciara mourned together as did Tarnoor and Elanor. They had been so fortunate, it had been a long time since death had touched any of them. It was to become a familiar visitor. A month later, Trader Tanrae’s son came bringing word that bandits had struck a merchant train. In the fighting his father had been slain.
Talron’s face was black with anger as he told them. “I do not believe it to have been the raid it appeared. One of the outlaws was taken alive. He swore their leader was paid for the attack, and that they were to be certain my father died.”
“Are you sure of this?” Tarnoor was shocked. “Your father had no enemies I know of. He was a good man and honest.”
Talron shrugged. “I’m sure the one who talked believed it. The truth of it is another matter.”
Ciara wondered. She wondered still more when her daughter’s maid found her way back to Aiskeep. She, too, had a story to tell.
“Lady, I loved your daughter. She was my lady twice over, once as her servant and once as I belong to Aiskeep. I cannot swear to my fears, only that they are there. The marriage was happy enough, though there were no children as yet. Then a cousin of the clan nearby began to visit often. He and my lady’s husband seemed to spend more time together talking close, as if they wished none to overhear their words. Then my lady fell ill. They said it was the ague but there were differences. I spoke so but was told I was an ignorant servant knowing nothing. My lady died, and even before her body was in the ground her husband’s friend was there, whispering in his ear.
“My lady was buried and I was told I should return to Aiskeep. That there was no need of me. They gave me a little coin, an old pony, and bade me join a merchant train coming south. All this I did, but, Lady, the merchants were kept late in Kars by storms. I did not leave the Keep when they believed.”
“What did you see?” Tarnoor asked quietly.
“My lady’s husband going very quietly to the shrine. Before the shrine priestess he made declaration that his Keep was now allied with that other clan. His friend stood witness.” She turned to Ciara. “I can prove nothing. I have no proof. But I believe my lady was slain in some way. I think her husband to be innocent, but he merely took the opportunity offered him by his friend. But my lady disliked the man, nor is that clan a friend to Aiskeep. So long as she lived she would never have let such an alliance be. I heard them argue often enough.”
Tarnoor dismissed the girl gently. Once the door had shut behind her he turned to look at his family.
“What do you think of her tale?”
Trovagh looked distressed. “The girl herself admits there is no proof. She even believes our son-in-law innocent. How can we accuse some cousin of another clan—and of what? That he poisoned our daughter so his clan might ally with one Keep? That’s the clan the duke wed into last time. It would be more than dangerous to accuse if what rumor says is true.”
It rested there until winter came. Of late many had been mild, but this one was harsh and long once more. When it faded into spring Ciara chose to ride out.
“I will if I wish, Tro. I’m not so old I can’t sit a horse. Come with me, and we can take some of the guard and ride toward Elmsgarth. Aiskeep owns it; we should be sure it survived the winter.”
Trovagh chuckled. “Well enough, let us ride.” They took six of the guard and a pack pony. It was a day’s ride to the garth that had once been Ciara’s home. They would stay the night there and ride back in the morning.
They walked the horses across boggy ground toward the edge of Elmsgarth land. Leading the small group was Trovagh. His hand suddenly flung up in a signal to halt. Ciara followed his look. Beside the willows huddled several starved goats. The bark had been eaten high, to branch forks in the case of some of the trees that had proved climbable.
“There’s something wrong. Sersgarth has been using this land as pasture for years but not in winter. Why would they leave the beasts here to starve? These are only the ones that have survived.” He pointed to a scattering of humps, black and white against the brown earth. He turned to the men. “Spread out, and look for other beasts and any people. Be wary. Listen in case I call.”
He sat his mount as Ciara craned about her. “Tro, should we ride on to Sersgarth? If they were in so much trouble that they’d leave valuable stock here to starve, then…”
“Then they are probably dead,” Trovagh cut in. “It has been possible to ride to Elmsgarth for at least a week. If any were alive, then surely they’d have come by now. Still, you are right, we should ride there to see. Wait a little until we hear if our men have found anything.”
One by one the guards trickled back. They had found no one, but the last of them reported signs.
“Signs? What sort of signs? Riders?”
“No, my lord. I think that there were cattle here, too. The fence at the back has been broken down. The beasts will have gone into the hills once they became hungry enough to push through the railings.” He paused to consider. “My lord, I believe there to have been perhaps a dozen cattle, maybe more.”
Ciara spoke with the sound of steel in her voice. “Sersgarth would never have left so much wealth to die here. Not unless they themselves were already dead. Let us ride quickly. We can be there before dark.”
Trovagh agreed. “Spread out in line. Harran, go well ahead. Two of you others fall back. String bows and ride with your eyes wide open.”
The small cavalcade swept down the road, half-melted snow and slush flying from many hooves. They rounded the bend before Sersgarth, then pulled to a hasty halt as Harran rode back.
“Lord, Lady, Sersgarth stands, but the door is shut. No one appears to answer my calls.”
They rode on with care. It was as Harran had said. Within the house there were ominous stains here and there. Anything small of value had vanished. More interesting, even the secret hiding places, usually well-guarded family secrets, had been emptied without signs they had been broken open. There were no traces of the beasts here. Even the horse harnesses and wains were gone. But there was no damage. Nothing smashed or burned such as bandits usually did.
They stayed the night, riding back to Aiskeep distressed and bewildered. In the South all had been quiet for some time. It would have taken a strong band of outlaws to win the garth with so little damage. Why then had they not stayed the winter? The buildings were weather-tight with good hearths and much firewood stacked behind the house. With the increasing pressure against Estcarp’s border, the loot to be had there drew outlaws and bandits north. Had this been a band of such traveling in that direction? But the other questions remained.
They were not answered that year. Instead, a large family appeared less than a month later to settle in the deserted garth. They claimed the goats found at Ciara’s old home as well. Trovagh and Ciara rode over to speak with them.
“From where do you and your family come?”
“From beyond Teral, my lord. A wearying journey.”