‘I thought you might have done,’ said Cartain softly. ‘You will not, by any chance, have trumpets sounded as you leave?’ Without waiting for an answer, he spun on his heel and strode from the room. Sheera caught up with him by the doorway as he stepped into the sunlight.
‘You should not have been rude, Cartain.’
He breathed a deep sigh. ‘No, I should not. Her rank demands respect, but her stupidity is hard to bear.’
‘It is not stupidity, sir merchant. It is stubbornness. There is a difference,’ she said, swinging herself into the saddle of a tall black gelding.
He mounted his own bay mare. ‘Yes, there is,’ he admitted, ‘and I will accept your point if she is proved to be right. But we are dealing here in life or death. And to risk life for a few pretty pieces of silver is not wise.’
He spurred his mount down the gravel path as Sheera swung in the saddle. Dianu had leaned out of the window and plucked a red rose, which she waved at her sister.
Sheera raised her arm in farewell, then thundered her mount after the merchant.
Dianu was arrested by the soldiers she had hired to protect her and brought under guard to Mactha — her servants with her, her wagons piled with her possessions.
The Duke visited Errin with the news. ‘You realize, Errin, that you can no longer stand for her? She is now an accepted traitress, never mind her Nomad blood. It frees you from this insane battle.’
Errin sat by the narrow window, staring out over the countryside. He looked at the Duke and smiled.
‘How does it free me, my Lord? I love the woman; I cannot stand by and see her shipped to Gar-aden.’
The Duke poured himself a goblet of wine and drank deeply. ‘She will not be sent to Gar-aden,’ he said, his voice almost a whisper.
‘What? Why?’
‘That is for Nomads.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘You know what I am saying, Errin. She is to be tried as a traitress and sentenced to death, probably at the stake.’
‘Sweet Heaven, is the world mad?’ said Errin, rising and slamming his fist against the stone of the sill.
‘There is nothing you can do. Nothing! Cairbre will kill you in seconds — and what will it achieve? One more noble line ended. Is a stupid gesture worth your life? It would be different were you an Elodan, but you are not. Errin, my page could best you with the sword.’
‘I fear that is no longer the point, my Lord. What sane man would desire to live in a world such as this? And how could I look at myself in a mirror, knowing I had done nothing to save the woman I love?’
The Duke poured a second goblet of wine and drained it; he was looking tired, and his eyes were bloodshot. ‘Cairbre does not want to fight you. He has asked me to see you… to implore you to reconsider.’
‘I will be at the field tomorrow and it will be decided by the laws of the Gabala,’ said Errin. ‘I am sorry, my Lord. You must find another Lord of the Feast for the King’s visit.’
‘You realize this is what Okessa wants? You know that his is the only victory?’
‘I care nothing for Okessa. He told me I would die in five days — and that is tomorrow. Long may he laugh.’
‘Would you like me to practise with you?’
Errin gazed at the Duke and realized the man was sincere. It touched him. Greedy, cruel, lustful — all these vices the Duke had and yet, still, there was a place for compassion. ‘Thank you, but no,’ said Errin. Suddenly he chuckled. ‘You think I can become a champion in one day?’
The Duke smiled. ‘You remember the year I won the Silver Lance? You were my page. You brought me my sword and the scabbard slipped between your legs, sprawling you to the dust. I knew then you’d never be a knight. Come Errin, let us get drunk.’ He offered his friend a full goblet of wine, but Errin shook his head.
‘Will you allow me to see Dianu?’
‘Of course… for as long as you want.’
‘Privately?’
‘I guarantee it, my friend.’
An hour later Errin was led through the dungeon corridor to a long room at the end. Dianu was there. There were no chains, and a comfortable bed and two chairs had been placed at her convenience. She was dressed still in her riding clothes, a grey velvet doublet and black hose. Her dark hair flowed free now, making her seem younger than her nineteen years.
Errin heard the door close behind him and opened his arms, but she just stood by the bed staring at him, her eyes wide, her lips trembling. He moved to her, drawing her to him.
‘They are going to burn me alive,’ she whispered. ‘Burn me!’
He could say nothing, except perhaps to tell her he would not be alive to see it — and that would bring her scant comfort. So he held her in silence.
After a while she pulled back from him. ‘I love you,’ she said. ‘I have done so ever since I was small and you used to come to our palace with your father. You remember the games of hunt-and-find in the gardens?’
‘Yes. It was always easy to find you; you always moved.’
‘I always wanted to be found,’ she said. ‘By you.’
‘I wish I had come with you. I wish we had gone on the night of the Feast. I wish….’
‘Is it true that you are going to champion me, Errin?’
‘Yes.’
‘Against the Red Knight?’
He nodded. ‘You would expect me not to?’
‘No, I have always known you were the bravest of men, but can you win? And even if you do, will they allow me to depart?’
‘I cannot answer either of these questions. Tomorrow we will know. But today, now, we have each other, and today may… be all that we have. I don’t mind if we just sit quietly, saying nothing. I just want to be here with you.’
‘We will not be disturbed?’
‘No, the Duke has promised.’
She unfastened the laces of her doublet and said, ‘Then be with me, Errin, be part of me.’
At midnight Errin slid from the bed — leaving Dianu sleeping — and tapped on the door, which was opened by a burly guard. The man closed the door quietly and locked it. He would not meet Errin’s gaze and led the way silently to the upper levels.
As the guard turned to go, Errin touched him on the shoulder. ‘Treat her gently,’ he said. The man said nothing and glanced down at Errin’s outstretched hand; two gold Raq nestled in his palm. The guard took the money and walked away; then he stopped and spoke without turning. ‘I would have done so anyway,’ he said, ‘but I need the money.’
Errin smiled. ‘Let her sleep for as long as she will. Tomorrow will be a long, fearful day.’
He returned to his own apartments, where Boran had placed his battle armour on a wooden stand. Errin stood and gazed at the weapons laid out on the narrow table before the stand: longsword, battle-axe, mace and chain. He had worn the armour only once, at the coronation of the King seven years ago; he had never fought in it. The helm was cylindrical, with a broad slit across the face. Errin lifted it and placed it on his head; it was lined with cushioned velvet and sat snugly in place. He could hear his own breathing, like the sound of a wolf creeping forward in the darkness. His vision through the eye-slit was limited. Removing the helm, he tossed it to his bed. The sword was double-handed and he hefted it, trying to recall the advice of Sword-master Pleus more than a decade before. But all he could remember was the man shaking his head and telling him he was too clumsy, and that he had two left feet.
Errin sat at the northern window with the sword in his lap until the dawn streaked the sky, when Boran entered silently.
‘My Lord, will you eat breakfast?’
‘No. I have no appetite.’
‘If I may say so, respectfully, you are not being wise. To fight, a man must have strength — and this comes from the food we eat. I have prepared some honey-cakes. Please eat something.’