Deed Of Paksenarrion - Divided Allegiance Part 16

After a moment's silence, Sir Felis turned to the mayor. "If you don't mind, I'd like to ask a few questions."

"Go ahead."

"Paksenarrion, you say you served three campaign seasons. How soon after you joined the regular company were you made private from recruit?"

"The first battle, sir."

"What was your file position?"

"File second, the first year, sir, and the second. Tjiis past year we moved around a lot, but at the end I was file leader."

"I'm not clear on something. You've spoken both of leaving the Company, and of being on some sort of long leave. Are you still the Duke's soldier, or not?"

Paks sighed. "Sir, the Duke had reason to give me a long leave. He and others had suggested that I might .

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leave the Company for a year or so. For other training, or experience, they said. But the Duke said I would be welcome back any time. I hadn't decided yet, sir, how soon to return."

"But you have no complaints against Duke Phelan, or he against you?"

"I have none against him, sir, and as far as I know he has none against me. And the Company is all I've known. I miss them."

"Have you any sort of token or pa.s.s from your Duke, that might prove what you say of his opinion?*

Paks remembered the ring he had given the survivors of Dwarfwatch, and reached into her pouch to get it. "Here is a ring-" She handed it to the mayor, who peered at it, and pa.s.sed it along the table. When they had all looked at it, the mayor pa.s.sed it back.

"Dwarfwatch," the mayor said. "Isn't that die name of that Sorellin fort on the south end of Hakkenarsk Pa.s.s?"

"So the traders say," said Master Senneth.

"So. Those rumors, last spring, of a major battle there-" mused Hebbinford. "You must have been there. Why were you so angry with the merchants, Paksenarrion, for mentioning it?"

Paks glanced quickly at Sir Felis and the Marshal, then back to Hebbinford. "Sir, it is the Duke's business. 1 don't talk of it with merchants. But-by treachery, most of my-of a-cohort was lost at Dwarfwatch, to Lord Siniava. Most of a cohort of Halveric's, too. For those of us who lived, the Duke had these rings made."

"So he's fought understrength this past year," commented Sir Felis. "And the Halveric, too, I presume."

The Marshal was not deflected from the original story. "What was it, a siege, or what?"

"If she considers it her Duke's business, Cedfer-" began the Kuakgan.

"Nonsense. Anything that's happened almost a year ago is public knowledge in Aarenis, and well know the details here sooner or later."

Paks took a deep breath and tried to shove her private memories back into hiding. All the mercenary companies 164.

in the south knew the story; Cedfer was right. She gathered her wits and began. "One cohort of the Duke's Company was detached from the siege of Rotengre-the Guild League cities had joined in that-and garrisoned Dwariwatch while the Sorellin militia, who had been there, helped with the grain harvest." She paused, and they all nodded. They listened intently as she described Halveric Company's approach, the surrender, the departure of all but a guard cohort of Halveric's and Siniava s attack, the fete of die prisoners marched away toward Rotengre, and the desperate defense of the few who held the fort.

"And you were in that. I see." Marshal Cedfer glanced at the Kuakgan and back to Paks. "Were you one of those sieged in the fort, or were you taken prisoner?"

' Neither, sir. Three of us were not taken-by chance, we were gathering berries in the brambles and they didn't see us. We took word to the Duke." Paks stopped there and looked at them. Sir Felis was leaning forward, alert and eager; the Marshal's eyebrows were up; the Kuakgan was frowning slightly. The rest merely looked interested. "How far did you go?" asked Sir Felis. "Where was the Duke?"

"Outside Rotengre, with the rest of the Company," said Paks. She wished they would go on to something else. She didn't want to think about that journey, about Saben and Canna.

"I can see," said the Marshal, "why you would be trusted by Duke Phelan. Remarkable. Well, then-so the Duke relieved his force at the fort. And where was the Halveric? I should think he'd have been there, too."

"He had taken most of his Company toward Merinath," said Paks. "They arrived the next day, too late to fight there: but they came to Rotengre." "And how many troops did Siniava have?" "We thought about eight hundred, altogether-" "But Phelan's force is what-three cohorts altogether?" "Yes, sir. He had help from the Claris and Count Vladi-" "And Gird, no doubt," said the Marshal firmly. "Well, indeed. That's quite a tale, but straight enough. Now, what's happened this last year? We've heard of widespread .

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fighting, open war from the mountains to the sea, armies marched clear from the Westmounts to the Copper Hills. What about it?" The mayor was watching the Marshal closely, but did not interfere.

Paks wondered where to start. "Sir, after the year before, the Duke and the Halveric were certain that Siniava meant to conquer all of Aarenis. The Guild League cities blamed him for the piracy of Rotengre, and other things as well. My lord Duke pledged to spend himself on a campaign against Siniava, for what he had done to us. He gathered most of the northern mercenaries to his aid. And the Guild League cities fought on their own lands, and sometimes marched abroad as well."

"Ahal" Master Senneth was rubbing his hands together. "I always suspected the like, sirs, I did indeed. Too many caravans were robbed on the trade roads between Merinath and Sorellin, and none of the goods ever showed up here. They must have been taken on south. And I'd heard through-well, I'd heard that Siniava had bought into some of the guilds."

Paks nodded. "We heard the same, sir, after Cortes Cilwan fell."

"Cihvan fell?" asked Sir Felis sharply. "What happened to the Count?"

"He was killed," said Paks. "But Vladi's men got his heir out, the boy, and he's safe in Andressat, the last 1 heard."

"Succession wars," muttered the Marshal. "They'll have succession wars, as well as everything else."

"Go on," said the mayor, with a gesture that silenced the others. "What then?"

Paks shrugged. "I don't know it all, sir; I was only a private, after all." She described the campaign as best she could. Sir Felis and the Marshal listened intently, their fingers moving as if on maps. The others reacted more to descriptions of cities fallen, battles fought, factions implicated in this plot or that. Finally, dry-throated with the length of the tale, she came to that last few days, when Siniava's remaining soldiers were neatly trapped with the help of Alured the Black. "We caught up with the last of 166.

them," Pales explained, "in an old ruin where the Immer and Imefal meet."

"Cortes Immer," said the Kuakgan softly. "No one's held that since the old duke's line died."

Paks looked at him. "Is that what it is? It's still a great citadel, built into the living rock like Cortes Andres. Anyway, Siniava was killed, trying to escape secretly from the citadel, and after that his army surrendered to^the militia."

"I can hardly believe Siniava is truly dead/' mused the mayor. "How many years have we worried that he might gain control of Aarenis and come over the mountains? I remember the first word we had of him, don't you, Master Oakhallow?"

"Indeed yes."

"And now he's gone. And no more agents of his will come through, trying to spy out defenses, such as they are."

Chapter Eleven.

"// she's telling the truth," said Feddith harshly. "If. Twould be months before we could check her tale. She might be an agent herself."

Paks tensed, but Sir Felis answered. "I don't think so," he said. "She carries the duke's ring, and showed it willingly. I know that crest."

"It could have been stolen," said Feddith stubbornly.

"She fights like a soldier trained in Phelan's cornpany," commented the Marshal. "I know what training Phelan's soldiers would have, and she has it."

"And as well," said the mayor, with a look at the mage, "we have a way to tell if she lied. If Master Zinthys is willing-"

The mage looked at Paks, and smiled disarmingly. "I should say, if the lady is willing. Without any special arts, sirs, I see no liar there. An honest soldier, it seems to me, and I daresay to Captain Sir Felis." He caught Felis's eye, and the captain nodded. "I would not wish to cast a spell on her if she's opposed, sir; I would not indeed."

The tradesmen of the Council looked taken aback. Master Oakhallow smiled faintly. Marshal Cedfer spoke up, brisk as always.

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"I'm sure she'll have no objection; it's an honorable request. Isn't that right, Paksenarrion?"

Paks felt the tensions in the room, and wondered what to do. She wished they'd agreed with the mage to let her alone. What was this truth spell like? Even with the Kuakgan's a.s.surance in the afternoon, she feared to be involved in more magic.

"Sirs," she began cautiously, "the only time I know of that I've been spelled, it was by the elf-lord. Could I ask what the spell is, that Master Zinthys would use? I have no wish to put myself in another's power for anything but the truth alone."

"Well said," murmured the Kuakgan. The others nodded, and Master Zinthys smiled at her.

"It's not like that at all-or rather, it may be a bit like that, but this spell is quite limited. You're absolutely right, not to let yourself be spelled without safeguards. Ill explain it to you. The power of this spell is that you cannot lie while it is active. Nor, for that matter, can anyone standing very close to you. I could, of course, cast it so that no one in the room could lie, but that takes a great deal of power. The limit of the spell is that while you cannot lie, you are not compelled to say anything at all. Nor does it affect acts other than speech-either compulsion or prevention. And when the spell wears off, you can lie at will. As a practical matter, the spell will wear off fairly soon; I see no reason to expend the power for a longer duration. Is all that clear?" He seemed quite proud of his explanation.

"Yes,' said Paks slowly. "But-" she looked around at them all. All strangers. "Forgive me, sirs and lady," she said, trying to be very polite, "but I know none of you well, and at most have known you for a few days only. How do I know that you-?" Her voice trailed off as they reacted. Some of the faces went red at once. The mason began to sputter, but the smith laughed out loud.

"She's got you there," he chuckled. "Ah, lady, you have hit on it. I should have known that anyone who could lead that black devil away would think in the end. You don't trust us to say truth, and no wonder."

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"That's right," said Master Zinthys quickly. "I hold no rancor, lady, for your doubts. Nonetheless, the Council has a reason to make sure of you, and your tale."

"Is it that thief, Paks?" asked Hebbinford. "I saw him talking to you this afternoon."

"Sir, I don't know. I didn't believe much that he said, no. But-Master Oakhallow said I had caused so much talk-I've been foolish, it seems. It may be late in the day, but I think I should be careful now, however I've acted. I never traveled alone before, as I told you. I never thought how it would seem, coming alone from the mountains with a load of treasure. I can understand your suspicions. But still-I don't want to be magicked into anything."

The mayor, still red-faced, nodded. "I see. You don't know me at all; no use to tell you how my family founded this town, generations back. You've no call to trust me. Are there any here you could trust? Did you know any Girdsmen before? Or were you kuakkgannir?"

Paks thought about it. "Sir, I didn't mean to insult you, but I did, didn't I? Yes, I have known Girdsmen, and the elves sent me to both the Marshal and the Kuakgan. If they say it is all right, I am willing."

The mayor looked at her shrewdly. "You may simply be as inexperienced as you seem. We'll see. Well, Master Oakhallow? Marshal Cedfer?"

"To my knowledge," said the Kuakgan. "Master Zinthys is an honest mage, and the spell he speaks of works just as he said it did. Certainly I pledge that we are not planning any other magic on you."

"And I the same,' said the Marshal. "I a.s.sure you that Master Oakhallow and I are quite competent to prevent anything else, too."

"Yes, sir," said Paks miserably. "I just wanted to ask." She looked at Master Zinthys, fighting a hollow feeling in her belly. "Whenever you're ready, sir."

"You'd best sit down," said the mage. He rose and dragged a chair over for her. "It might make you dizzy for a moment. Now, try to relax." Paks had the feeling that he enjoyed showing his skill before the others, as he gestured fluicUy with his long graceful hands.

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Once she was seated, the mage took from his robe a small pouch and from that a pinch of colored dust, which he tossed at Paks. It spread in the air, and seemed to hang a long time before settling. Then he took four wands from up one sleeve, and set them on the floor around her chair. Finally he stood back and began to chant in a language Paks had never heard before, while gesturing with one hand in front of her face. Behind him, the iaces of the others at the Council table were intent. Only the Kuakgan's showed amus.e.m.e.nt in the quirk of his mouth. She wondered why. At last the mage finished, and said in the common tongue: "Speak truth, or be silent, until the spell is done." Paks was surprised to feel nothing. No tingles, no pain, nothing at all diiferent from before. She did not plan to he, but what would happen if she did? Had the spell worked?

The mayor began the questioning, asking the same things as before: her name, background, reasons for leaving the Duke, reasons for coming to Brewersbridge. He asked little about the conflicts she'd described, and no details she had not already given. She answered, as before, honestly. It went more quickly, since no one interrupted. When he was done, the mayor sat back and looked at the others.

"She's not lied. Her story's unusual, but true."

"Then why did she resist being spelled?" asked the mason, still hostile. "And how do we know the spell is working?"

The mage flushed and sat up straight, but Master Oakhallow's deep voice forestalled what he might have said. "Master Mason, Zinthys is a competent wizard. The spell is good."

"If you say so," muttered the mason.

"I wonder myself," said the Marshal, "that a soldier of her experience would show fear of a simple spell. But if the sorcery she suffered before were severe enough-"

The Kuakgan looked at him sharply. "Come, Marshal, you know as well as I the power in that place. Only a witless fool would want to risk that again."

"True-true."

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"How long, Master Zinthys, will the spell last?" the Kuakgan asked.

"Not long. Another quarter-gla.s.s, perhaps, though 1 can counteract it now, if you wish.'

"It would be more courteous," he murmured, and the rest of the Council nodded.

Paks watched as the mage came near. He picked up the wands and stowed them up his sleeve, then began another incantation. When he finished, he grinned at her.

"There. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No, sir." Paks still felt nothing. Foolish, maybe. She wished she'd agreed at once to the spell, since it had done her no harm. The mayor cleared his throat.

"We've been here for some time, and there's more to come." Paks tensed again. "Let's take a short break now, and ease our throats with a bit of ale. Is that all right with you, Paksenarrion?"

"Yes, sir." Paks wondered what was coming next, and thought of Semminson's warning. What might they want her to do? Meanwhile, she stood when the others did, and followed them out to the yard before the building. The mayor spoke to a man in servants' clothes standing there, and told him to fetch ale. It was quite dark out, and cool; Paks s.h.i.+vered. Sir Felis came up to her.

"I'm more than glad to know Siniava's dead," he began. "One reason the count had me down here is in case an army came over the pa.s.s. It will be a year or more before the keep is finished. But you haven't seen that, have you?"

"No, sir."

"That's my command. When it's finished, well have a place to fight from, if it's necessary. The last time there was a battle near here, we had no fortified position. No place to store arms, or haven for those who couldn't fight-nothing."