Lord Taris bowed and went out to spread the good news in the court.
The wagon train was making heavy going of the road from Tigral to the furthest corner of Fergox's empire where his armies were massing. The winter weather was no help, and the soldiers had experienced endless trouble: broken bridges, badly signposted crossroads, unexplained
diversions, poor workmanship from farriers, causing the cart horses to shed their shoes a mile down
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the road. Anyone would think that the people of Brigard were trying to impede the work of the army. Surely they hadn't forgotten so quickly the war that had crushed them and the bloody public reprisals? The commander of the supply wagons made a mental note to suggest to Fergox that the populace be reminded forcefully that they were under occupation and should give all cooperation to their new masters.
"Can't wait to be back in Holt," complained the commander, riding his horse at the head of the procession. Twenty carts rumbled along behind him, full of food and arms for the Felixholt garrison. "Got a nice little girl tucked away in the Dovemarket at Tigral. She thinks soldiering is all fighting and heroics and don't believe me when I tell her it's grunt work for idiots."
His second-in-command riding beside him nodded as he chewed on a piece of dried meat stolen from the supplies.
"My boys are the same--all mad to be soldiers and won't listen to me," he remarked. "Still, we're nearly there now, sir. There're some good inns in Felixholt and the priests are allowing extra fights to the death in the Wargod's ceremonies--soldiers against prisoners. Should be worth seeing."
Just then the bridge on the road in front of them exploded in a cloud of dust and a deafening report. Fragments of wood and stone rained down on the soldiers. Horses screamed and reared in panic.
"Draw your swords!" yelled the commander, mastering his mount and galloping back down the line. His
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second was lying in the mud, struck through the eye by flying shrapnel.
Resistance fighters in green and brown emerged from the bushes on either side of the road. Arrows flew out of the trees, picking off the men in the wagon driving seats. Soldiers fell to pike and sword before they had time to raise their own weapons. The commander found himself face to face with a dark-skinned rebel on a fearsome warhorse, far superior in height and skill to his own. Their swords met but he knew within seconds he was out-classed.
He felt fear, then pain, then nothing.
The fight was short and bloody. Nerul had instructed that they should take no prisoners and allow no one to escape to carry news of the attack to Felixholt.
The supplies and men were simply to vanish from the road. Melletin took command of the wagons, ordering his men to roll them onto some rafts constructed for the purpose. They were quickly poled away by the watermen into the reeds, their stores to be used to supply the resistance and feed the needy people of the region. The heavy horses were led off to stables in out-of-the-way farms. The bodies of the enemy dead were stripped and then thrown into a pit some distance from the road for mass burial. It was ugly and brutal work. Ramil was revolted by the bloodshed but he knew it was necessary. These wagons were the lifeline of Fergox's army--an army that would kill all who stood in their way. As rider of the fastest horse, he and a handful of others were sent in pursuit of those who had lied. This felt particularly horrible work, cutting down men who were trying to escape. But if they carried word
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of the resistance to Fergox, the reprisals locally would be merciless as the population would rightly be assumed to be harboring enemies of the Empire.
The last man down, Ramil dismounted and vomited into the reeds. He would never again make the mistake of thinking that battle was glorious.
Tashi had known nothing about the raid. By the rules of the resistance, such things were kept strictly to those who were involved, so she was surprised to find Melletin's tent empty when she called by late that evening. She hadn't dared come back before now; her cheeks still flushed as she remembered Gordoc's ham-fisted attempt to advise her. She'd spent hours agonizing that Ramil would be thinking worse of her and finally could stand it no longer.
She had to come and see him just to check that he was still her friend.
Finding no one at home, she decided to wait for a few minutes. She made herself comfortable by the stove, throwing on a couple more logs to warm the place up for the men when they returned.
"My pretty!" Gordoc stood in the doorway, beaming at her. He was wet and covered with mud and other stains, looking quite wild.
"Are you all right?" she asked anxiously.
"Yes, yes, just a little tussle out on the road. Nothing for you to worry about."
Gordoc strode to a washstand and began to clean himself up. The water turned pink as he rinsed his hands.
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Tashi got up to pour fresh water into the basin for him. "Where did you get hurt? I can't see a wound."
"Nor will you, Princess. I'm afraid that's not my blood but the other fellow's."
"Oh." Tashi tried not to think too much of what his great fists had just been doing. She'd seen him fight before, of course, but that had somehow felt different. "Where's Ramil?"
"Finishing up the job."
"You mean he's fighting too?"
"Like a tiger."
Tashi sat down to wait with Gordoc. An hour passed and the giant began to get restless. Tashi's mind was whirling, imagining all sorts of horrible fates for their friend. He could have been captured, killed, thrown from his horse in the dark . . .
The flap to the tent opened and Ramil stepped in, his face grim.
"Thank the Goddess!" Tashi exclaimed, rushing towards him. So relieved to see him alive and well, she wanted to hug him but was too shy to do so. She hovered awkwardly an arm's span from him.
"What are you doing here?" Ramil asked. He knew the words sounded ungracious, but she was the last person he wanted to see, sullied as he was by the deeds of that evening.
She stepped back, interpreting his mood as coolness towards her. "I just stayed to see that you were safe. I'll go now."
He caught the edge of her cloak as she passed. "No,
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I don't mean it like that." He wanted to break down and cry on her shoulder, tel her how ugly and disgusting kil ing was, how men died hard deaths, calling for their loved ones, but he couldn't. He was doing it to protect her from all that. He couldn't tell her the truth.
But Tashi could see the misery in Ramil's face: it made her heart ache. She glanced up at Gordoc. The big man was tactfully retreating to the sleeping quarters, sensing that Ramil did not need an audience right now.
"What's the matter?" she asked softly, placing a hand on his arm.
His shoulders heaved in a racking sob.
"Oh, Ram." She pulled his head down towards her chest, allowing him bury his face and cry himself out. Then when the sobs had stopped, she let him rest there, gathering himself to face her.
He pushed her gently away. "I've made you all wet."
"It's no matter."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize--and don't explain. I can imagine what you've seen--what you've had to do. There is no shame in grieving for the horrors of war."
Ramil collapsed onto the pillows, exhausted by the events of the day. Tashi refilled the basin and washed his face and hands with a cloth like a mother tending a feverish child. He watched her through half-closed lids, marvelling that anything so beautiful could be near him now and not be revolted. He noticed that he had left a smear of blood on her skin.
"Here." He took the cloth from her and reverently
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wiped the stain from her collarbone, but then his fingers hooked the necklace. He lifted it clear of her bodice, the charm dangling between them.
An ugly mood flooded him. "One of Merl's presents?" he asked bitterly.
Tashi nodded, blushing.
"I notice that he doesn't go on any of these rai
ds. The duke's little brother stays tucked up in his office with you. I don't suppose he cries all over you, does he?" Ramil knew she had done nothing to deserve it--had shown him tenderness and compassion--but he couldn't stop himself. He felt so hurt, he wanted someone else to feel the pain too. "No, I remember, he kisses and caresses you." Tashi jerked back as if he had slapped her. The necklace snapped, the broken ends left dangling in his fist. "I'm sorry. I should never have said that. I'm all wrong tonight." He took her hand, poured the chain into her palm and closed her fingers upon it. "You should leave me."
"I don't understand you, Ram," Tashi said, close to tears herself. "What have I done to make you despise me?"
He shook his head, unable to answer. It wasn't what she'd done--it was what he had just done out on the road.
"I'm trying to fit in with your ways." Tashi rubbed her eyes with the back of her wrist. "But I don't know how to talk to you, or how to treat other men--
every step I take is a mistake."
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Ramil felt doubly wretched now that he'd made her cry. "No, Tashi: you're good and pure and innocent. You just make me feel ugly and twisted and dirty beside you. I only hope Merl deserves you."
Ramil got up and left the room before she had a chance to reply.
Ramil woke late and rolled out of his bed with a groan. He still felt depressed by the events of the night. Inspecting himself in the rusty mirror as he shaved, his eyes had a haunted look.
You only did what you had to do on the raid. What you need is some hard exercise -- something to drive away this gloomy mood, he told his reflection.
He lacked the courage to turn his thoughts to what he had said to Tashi.
He turned instead to the practice fields by the stables and began to warm up, stretching, jumping, running. A number of young soldiers were already lining up to take on the Southerner, as they called him. Ramil had become the new champion to beat, but today was not to be their lucky day as he was burning with anger, channelling it into ferocious swordsmanship. No bout lasted more than a few minutes.
Just as Ramil was taking a breather, Merl walked by leading a pretty white mare, Tashi mounted sidesaddle on its back. Ramil could see that she was listening intently as the Brigardian explained the use of the reins and bit.
She didn't notice Ramil watching her. Merl
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made a joke and she laughed, patting the horse's neck. She looked relaxed and very pleased about something.
Gordoc arrived beside Ramil, spouting puffs of white breath into the bracing, cold air.
"Look at him!" Ramil said. "Now he's got her in the saddle, impressing her with his teaching skills!"
Gordoc stared at his friend and scratched his unshaven chin. "What is wrong with that? She looks happy. We want her to be happy, don't we?"
"Yes, but not with him."
Suddenly lots of things made sense to the giant. He put an arm around Ramil's shoulders.
"You are jealous, my friend."
"No I'm not."
"Yes, you are. You think that Merl is going to snatch her from under your nose."
"I'm just worried he'll take advantage of her. He's got a reputation around the camp for getting girls into trouble and you heard how naive Tashi is."
"You are not very good at lying, Ram. Your interest is not brotherly concern.
You, my friend, are in love with her yourself."
"I'm what?"
"In love." Gordoc picked up a weight and began to exercise his bulging biceps. "But you make a terrible lover."
Ramil flushed. "Do I?"
"Yes, you confuse her," he continued. "You treat her coldly and make her feel in the wrong. You give no gifts. You haven't even tried to kiss her. Merl does it all much
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better. He makes his feelings plain. If you don't hurry up, he'll have tumbled her before you get a chance."
"I don't think she would allow anyone to tumble her, as you call it," muttered Ramil uncomfortably. "She is a lady."
"Well, I don't know much about ladies, but it seems to me they are girls all the same. I don't know any woman who could hold out long under that kind of attack." Gordoc nodded to Merl, who had now got his hand on Tashi's leg under the pretext of adjusting a strap.
"I'll kill him," growled Ramil.
"That would not be wise, my friend, as he is your ally in this war. If you are so worried about him, you should start your own campaign to win her affections.
You cannot expect her to read your mind--she is no fortune-teller able to see into the secrets of men's hearts. You have to show her."
"And how do I do that?"
"Do you noble folk always make things so complicated? Is it not obvious what a man should do with the woman he loves? Mind you, if you try anything, as Tashi's protector I'll have to thump you." He grinned at Ramil.
"No exceptions."
Ramil pondered Gordoc's advice and decided he should take it--apart from the last gem. He needed to open his counter-attack with something subtle--
something she would appreciate. Then he remembered what she had said about courtship in the Islands consisting of poetry and paper flowers. With no paper at hand, he tried composing a poem in his head, but gave
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up when the only rhyme he could think of for "Tashi" was "ashy." Inspiration struck, however, when he passed some women weaving baskets out of
reeds. He begged some materials and sat down among them. The weavers became interested in his experiments to fold the reeds into something resembling a flower. One of them took up the challenge and came up with a successful pattern, then taught it to him. They cackled and joked as he left them, wishing him wel with his sweetheart.
Ramil reached Nerul's tent but found that the riders had not yet returned. He left the reed rose on her pillow and slipped away without being seen.
"I think you've made an excellent beginning," Merl complimented Tashi as he led the mare back to the stables. "Are you sure you've not ridden before?"
"We don't have horses on the Islands," she explained. "It is our custom to travel by water and oxcart. I have ridden once before though. Prince Ramil was supposed to be teaching me."
"Oh yes, and what did he do?"
"Galloped me off into the forest--it was all too much too soon."
"How thoughtless." Merl held out his arms for her to dismount. "I hope you don't think that of me?"
Tashi tried to ignore the subtext to his remark. "No, you've been very patient." She slid down, but he did not step back, keeping his arms around her.
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Merl tipped her chin up with his finger. "I've been more patient than you know, Tashi. Ever since I saw you, I've been wanting to do this." He bent down and kissed her long and hard on the mouth. She tried to push him away but he was crushing her to his body, curving her backwards. Tashi felt surprise, then panic, then fear. Finally, he let go.
"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" he said lightly, running his hands over her waist and hips. "I know you've been wanting me to do that. All those smiles and pretty thank your for my gifts and all the while a lover's kiss waiting at the corner of your lips to be collected."
"But I haven't ... I didn't mean ..." Tashi couldn't find the words, horrified that he could have taken her responses as encouragement. Part of her mind knew that she had every right to be outraged at the liberty he had taken, but somehow he had made it into her fault and her main feeling was now one of guilt. She had unintentionally led him on. Whatever he thought, she had to get away from him.
"I'm sorry if I have behaved inappropriately," she began, annoyed to find she sounded like a schoolgirl apologizing to a teacher for misbehavior.
He was watching her with an amused smile, still far too close.
"You must remember that I am a stranger to your ways," she whispered.
He took her hand and kissed the palm. "You are no stranger. I feel I know you very well, my darling."
"Please don't call me that."
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"I'll call you whatever you wish." He was now kissing the tender skin on her forearm.
"Please don't, Merl. I can't accept these . . . these attentions. It's not right."
He let go of her, frowning. "Are you saying, Tashi, that you don't like me?"
He tapped her on the nose. "I think you have been teasing me, little cousin.
And you'll have to make it up to me sooner or later. Today I'll let you off. But I'll be back to collect the penalty." He leant forward and gave her another, more restrained kiss. "Don't forget: you owe me."
Tashi ran back to her room, tore off her cloak, and threw her shoes into the corner. Ramil had told her last night that she made him feel dirty; well, that was exactly the effect Merl had on her. She could not stomach the idea of spending another moment alone with him. No wonder Ramil couldn't bear to be with her! Collapsing on the bed, she heard something crunch beneath her. Feeling the pillow, she pulled out a battered rose made from reeds. A little plaited "R" hung from the bottom. Curling up and hugging the flower to her chest, she burst into tears, feeling very foreign and very confused.
Tashi's solution to the problem of Eastern men was to withdraw as far as possible into being the Fourth Crown Princess. She did not approach Ramil at all but walked with her eyes lowered as she went about the
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camp. She could not avoid Merl, but she maintained a strict distance, keeping her face impassive and her movements guarded. He seemed
amused by her reaction and tried to thaw her new reserve but she ignored him, presenting her work on his desk with a wordless bow and spending most of her time in her room. She refused his invitation to take more riding lessons.
"The Princess isn't happy again," Gordoc remarked to Ramil, seeing her pass the entrance to their tent one day.
Ramil said nothing. He had noticed that this new behavior coincided with his attempt at a love token. He could only assume it was not welcome.
The first time he saw her properly was the evening when news from Gerfal finally arrived. Nerul summoned them to a council in his tent. Tashi kept them all waiting, making her entrance at the last moment in a sweep of skirts and an elegant bow. She sat on Nerul's chair as if it were a throne, her hands folded in her lap. Ramil raised an eyebrow at Gordoc. The big man was looking even more puzzled because he had never been treated to the full Princess Taoshira act before.