The king yawned and stood up. Instantly the performance stopped, and everyone else rose also.
"We are a trifle fatigued," he said. He pulled off a ring and presented it to the leading lady. "Please continue for our guests. A charming performance! No, the rest of you, do stay. Lady Elosa, we welcome you to our court and we hope to seemuchmore of you in the near future." He kissed her hand as she curtsied.
The king walked out with Shadow behind him. The door closed. Everyone sat down--except that Feysa had appeared from nowhere and had hold of Elosa's elbow. "Come!" she said.
"But...I was enjoying..."
Elosa was led firmly from the hall.
Chapter 17
"You can't teach an old bird new tricks."
THE eagles came to Ninar Foan.
How many? Shadow had no idea. He was the leader of an army whose size he could not guess. There were three hundred men in it, young farmhands mostly, eager and excited at the novelty. Many could shoot a fair arrow, but few could handle a sword as well as they could a sickle, and the rest would be almost as dangerous to their companions as they would ever be to an enemy. A surprising number, though, knew bird speech and an ever more surprising number of birds seemed to have learned the halting, tortoise-slow gestures required to speak to mankind.
He had organized the men into six companies and put the best commanders he could find in charge. It was all very hasty and makeshift--and it was a bluff. The birds were the army, and the only real weapon he had was the idea which had come to him when he saw NailBiter cleaning his toes. Now he must test it, and if it did not work, the great war would be over without a bow being bent.
Here on the Rand he would have died in the flimsy clothes of Pharmol. Soaring high over the bright, bare mountains, he shivered even inside the fleece-lined flying suit which Ukarres had given him. Close at NailBiter's side floated IceFire, and the three of them seemed to have the whole vault of the sky to themselves. The naked sun glared angrily through the thin air over the distant plain.
Yet if he peered hard in any direction, he could see eagles, some from Allaban and also local wilds gathering to watch the outcome. He had not understood in his days as a skyman that the eagles were never alone, that the constant and seemingly meaningless rippling of their combs was conversation. He had the world to himself, yet he had a vast and uncountable audience also.
IceFire signaled: "There are one-comb-and-four eagles in the aerie. One has left and is coming." Shadow acknowledged.
As he had expected, a messenger had been dispatched from Ninar Foan as soon as Shadow's army appeared in the sky. That was why he had bypassed the castle and positioned himself along the path to Vinok, and soon he would see this solitary courier racing to warn the men of Rantorra that the invasion had started.
One-comb-and-four? A human mind had counted and sent the word--there were only twelve eagles left. Then it was certain that the duke and his household were gone, and a fair guess that they were in Ramo. That should make the coming battle easier.
"It is my father that comes," IceFire signed.
IceStriker, he remembered--a huge silver, as big as NailBiter. The cautious duke would have left his best silvers at home in case Jarkadon took a fancy to them.
Shadow was unarmed, but around his neck hung a priceless farewell gift from Karaman, a pair of binoculars from the Holy Ark. With those he could see far better than with his own eyes, although still poorly compared to the birds. Hopefully he raised them and peered toward Ninar Foan. He saw nothing but wildly swaying rock and scrubby hills, and put the glasses down again before he became nauseated. This sling riding was much less stable than straddling a bird; good archery would be impossible. It was also chilly work, for he could not stretch out along his mount's back to seek shelter from the wind.
Then he saw the lone flier, floating down in a long glide toward an obvious thermal, and he signaled IceFire to intercept. She passed the word to NailBiter, and the two veered in unison.
"Speak to your father. Tell him that we come to free him and he must not resist his rider. He is to do what the man wants until you tell him."
IceFire's comb flickered the message. Shadow just caught the start of it--"This one flies behind Friend-of-eagles..."--but the rest was much too fast for him.
About ten minutes later they drew close, as the lone rider circled for height and Shadow came gliding in at about the same elevation. He tried the binoculars again.
He almost dropped them in surprise, seeing Vindax, the hooked nose below goggles. Impossible! It had to be the duke himself--but surely he would never flee his own castle. No, it was the young groom, Tuy Rorin, the duke's other bastard. Rorin was a good skyman, too; he was handling his bird beautifully. He had seen Shadow and was waiting with bow in hand. Shadow held out his arms to show that he bore no weapon, then signaled IceFire--and so NailBiter--to approach as close as possible but to look out for the bow.
"Rorin!"
Back came a faint reply. "Shadow?"
The air grew warmer as he entered the thermal. Then the birds were level, facing one another across the invisible column of wind and apparently almost motionless, rising and falling slightly with respect to one another, although all were steadily gaining height.
"Turn back!" Shadow called.
The reply was an obscene gesture.
"You will die!" Shadow yelled. "I can free your bird. Turn back, lad, and live!"
This time the obscenity was verbal, and Shadow was not surprised. Why should Rorin believe him? He hardly believed himself. Rorin was studying the terrain, planning the next hop of his journey.
"Your last chance! Turn back or die!"
Shadow was ignored, so he started the war.
He signaled to IceFire. "Tell your father that it is a downdraft to hurt the man. I ask him to spare the man."
IceFire's reply was too fast for him, which perhaps was deliberate. Perhaps her father was using bird obscenities.
"Tell your father to do three things. First he must raise one talon and scrape along under his beak. He will break the strap which holds the front of the helmet. Then he must dive, and the wind will blow it away from his eyes. Lastly, he must keep on diving until he lands."
"That is forbidden!" IceFire replied.
Forbidden? Shadow was nonplussed. Forbidden by whom? In all his plans he had not expected argument from the eagles. Forbidden?NosoNEne...he needed young Potro!NosoNEne...forbidden...off limits...inadvisable!
"Forbidden by whom?" he asked.
"When I was a chick, my father himself told me."
Rorin banked IceStriker and dived away steeply.
Please. Shadow begged. "Tell him to try!"
IceFire's comb reddened angrily, but she sent the message, then passed the reply. "He says it is forbidden. He cannot land on one foot."
The straps were thin leather. The stitching holding the buckles was only thread. Shadow thought of those mighty talons and beaks carrying goats--carrying him. There was far more muscle there than was needed...
You can't argue with an eagle.
IceStriker and his rider were dwindling in the distance. Shadow felt panic. "Tell him Friend-of-eagles says it will work. Tell him...if I lead badly, then NailBiter will drop me...Tell him!"
He caught IceFire's ferocious glare and thought that perhaps, just this once, that expression represented her true feelings. She passed the message.