"I am flattered," he said. "And yet a little confused. So tell me, straight out, wherein do I go to the heart of matters?"
"It must have been Alwyth," said the Princess. "She is wife to Lycanto. She is a shrew and a bitch, and I do not like her, yet she is a good wife and mother. And my cousin, Lycanto, is a fool like most men. He is like a rooster that thinks all hens are his personal property. The gossip of which I spoke is true Lycanto has been bedding with that serving girl for months. Now Alwyth has found it out and has given the girl to the Drus for sacrifice. That much is simple. What is not so simple is what Lycanto will do if he finds this out. My cousin is a great warrior, very brave, and also very stupid. He is easygoing and hates trouble. He will suffer much to avoid it, especially with Alwyth. Yet if he finds out that his whore has been slain and eaten by the Drus, and with the aid and consent of Alwyth, then Frigga only knows what will happen. Lycanto will not attack the Drus because he is afraid of their magic, but his rage is terrible when it comes and who can tell who will feel his hand. Perhaps even you. Or me."
Blade gave her a cool stare. "You mean me, of course. You are kin of this Lycanto and he will not harm you. But me, a stranger "
She nodded, and for a moment seemed to gloat. "Yes. I am glad you understand, Blade. The Albs are a cruel people. But if we keep our mouths shut tight, and Lycanto is in a good mood, I can have my will of him. I will ask for an escort of armed men, and insist that you accompany me north to my father. I am very grateful to you for saving me from Queen Beata, and my father, King Voth, will also wish to thank you in person. So that you understand, Blade."
He nodded. "I do understand." Taleen smiled at him. "And besides, Blade, I have no wish to lose you yet. You frighten me a little. You puzzle me. Most of all you intrigue me. I have a feeling, Blade, that Frigga has cast a future for us. Love? Or perhaps death. Who can know?"
Frigga, as Taleen had explained, was the Goddess of all women in Alb, in Voth, and indeed in the whole land as far as the Princess knew. She was a trifle vague about her pantheon. She added, with some indignation, that Frigga was not recognized by the Drus and that worship of her, or even mention, was forbidden a ruling which the common folk ignored, as did the well born.
The male deity in the land was Thunor, equally in bad grace with the Drus, and so invoked as often as possible. Blade filed the name of Thunor away for future reference, conceding that when in the land of Alb it might be as well to do as the Albians did, always within reason, of course.
Blade knew his own weaknesses all too well temper and stubbornness. Plus a curiosity that would have slain a thousand cats.
They were climbing now, up a gradual slope, until at last they stood atop a long ridge. Below them the fens stretched in flat monotony to a sea that was mirror calm, reflecting the first rays of the sun. Inland the mists still shrouded the fens, and Blade noted that the intricate network of paths approaching Sarum Vil were all carefully marked by poles bearing tattered bits of cloth. The town, he saw at once, was well situated for defense.
"Something is amiss," said Taleen. She was frowning. She pointed down to the town. "Such hubbub is not usual so early in the morning. My cousin is a lazy man and usually sleeps as late as Alwyth will permit. You see, Blade? All those armed men!"
He was carefully studying the little town and the surrounding terrain. It was a fortified place, carefully laid out in rectangle and surrounded by a high wall of earth surmounted by a stockade of sharpened logs. Before the earthen ramparts, on all sides, was a deep ditch some twenty feet across. There was a high tower at each corner of the stockade, but unbastioned, and he judged that the Albs had not yet learned that trick of defense. He could see but one gate in the stockade, facing them, and it was open now. Through it, converging from the web of fen paths, poured a steady stream of armed men. Arms and armor glinted in the sun. A few of the warriors were on horseback, followed by a retinue on foot, but most of them were walking, in groups or alone, armed with sword, spear and shield, and wearing round metal caps that sparked in the sun.
Because of their elevation they could see well into the town, beyond the walls to a large central square where there was a great flurry of excited movement. More armed men were moiling about a huge bonfire, eating and drinking, while the drivers of war chariots dashed madly to and fro in the throng. Now and again a man was knocked down by the horses and there was a great outcry of cursing that could be heard by Blade and Taleen. He smiled to himself. Discipline was evidently not an Albian virtue.
Taleen pointed suddenly. "There! There is my cousin, Lycanto. Just to the right of the fire. You see? Now he is drinking from his horn. He does not look happy, my cousin." She laughed shortly. "That I can understand. Lycanto is a miser, as well as a lecher, and all these warriors will be eating him out of house and home. But there must be trouble, a war, else he would not have called them together. Trust Lycanto not to share his provisions lest he is driven to it!"
At that moment Blade heard a jangle of weapons on the path behind them. He spun about, his sword alert. He and the Princess had been so intent on watching Sarum Vil that neither heard the warriors approaching.
Taleen seized his sword hand and forced the point down. "No danger here, Blade. It is only Cunobar the Gray, Lycanto's chief man. A Captain. I know him, though I doubt he will know me. It has been many years since last we met. Stand back, Blade, and keep you quiet. I will handle this."
The man she had named Cunobar the Gray was leading a band of eight warriors. At sight of Taleen and Blade they halted and whispered among themselves for a moment, then Cunobar came forward. He was a tall man, narrow shouldered, and Blade guessed he was not as old as he looked. The silver gray of his hair and thick beard was premature. He wore a pointed bronze helmet bearing the design of a hawk in flight. The same design was worked into the boss of his heavy shield. He had drawn his sword, but lowered the point as he approached them. There was pride in his walk, and poise and confidence, and a lack of swagger.
Cunobar the Gray paid no attention to Blade. He fell to one knee before the Princess Taleen, jabbed the point of his sword into the earth, and doffed his helmet. His voice was deep and melodious, vibrant as a skald's harp. His eyes, above the heavy brush of gray beard,wear a curious dish brown and missed nothing of Blade without deigning to see him.
"It has been many years, my princess. Too many. I remember you as beautiful, but my memory is a traitor. How beautiful I did not know until this moment."
Taleen was greatly pleased. She shot a look of smug triumph at Blade, who discreetly stared at the ground and watched Cunobar from the corner of an eye.
Taleen touched Cunobar lightly on his gray head and laughed. "The same old Cunobar, I see. Even as a child you flattered me and turned my head and quite spoiled me." She pretended to frown. "For which I had to pay when I returned to my father. But rise now, Cunobar, and tell me what goes on in Sarum Vil. Why are the warriors gathering?"
The man stood up and sheathed his sword. He did not glance at Blade. His men had retired a little distance and were chattering among themselves.
"It is Getorix again," Cunobar said. "From over the Narrow Sea. He is raiding. Already half a dozen villages have been burnt and looted, and the people slain. Last night the beacons spoke that Getorix is near, and so King Lycanto prepares to go against him. What else? If Getorix is left unhindered he will blaze a path of murder through half of Alb. So all freemen and warriors have been summoned."