“Then, one day when Justinian, Duke of Wold, was visiting the court of King Gahls, as he did occasionally, to be diplomatic and show respect, Crown Prince Rancitor, who was then a boy of twelve, told the duke he should consider marrying Alicia, the Duchess of Altamont, Rancitor’s half sister. She was, I suppose, in her mid or late twenties then.”
“ ‘Consider marrying,’ ” snorted Bear. “It was a command.”
Precious Wind made a face at him and continued. “It’s true that when royalty suggests something, the timorous take it as a command. The duke has never been timorous, and he could not follow the suggestion anyway, for, as he explained to the child-prince, he had recently been betrothed to Princess Xu-i-lok, youngest daughter of Prince Lok-i-xan, Tingawan ambassador to the court of King Gahls. The wedding date had been set.”
Bear stretched and decided to take part in the discussion. “Child or not, Rancitor knew very well that they were betrothed. He also knew that for us Tingawans pledging troth is more important than the rite of marriage itself. The betrothal involves our family and tribe, and our money, and our property, and our succession to family title, as I very well know! When one becomes betrothed, everything important is already done. The wedding is just a time for feasting and moving furniture!”
Precious Wind nodded. “True, the betrothal was talked of widely. Everyone thought it astonishing that a mere duke of a barbarian country had become the accepted betrothed of Tingawan royalty!”
“Barbarian?” said Abasio, head tilted in question.
Precious Wind said, “Any cultured Tingawan would consider Norland a barbarian land. Many people here do not read; they have no orchestras, no choruses; there is no such thing as a museum; dance and drama do not exist; and except in the Tingawan embassy, there was not a bathhouse in all of Wold until Justinian built one for his wife!”
Xulai, who much enjoyed cavorting with Precious Wind in the great steaming tub in the bathhouse, said, “I didn’t know that!”
Precious Wind patted her hand and went on. “The duke had met the princess at the court of King Gahls during a great reception given for the Tingawan ambassador.” She smiled, a bit sadly. “It was one of those fatal meetings that are later immortalized in both history and fable. Generations to come will read of it.”
Though Precious Wind had said this quietly, and though her face was still, Xulai felt the words like hammer blows. She knew Precious Wind. She was saying that something had happened that was more important than a mere romance, something of portent.
Precious Wind turned to look directly into Xulai’s eyes, nodded slightly, and went on: “Their fates were cast with their first glance at each other, and the duke went to the ambassador on his knees to ask for her. There were lengthy negotiations.”
“Negotiating what?” Xulai asked.
“Everything,” growled Bear, throwing up his hands. “On Wold’s side: dowry. On Tingawa’s side: wife-price. That’s another of our differences. In Norland, women are so little valued, a man must be paid to a take a wife; in Tingawa, women are so greatly treasured, a man must pay dearly to get one, as I have good reason to know!” Bear still owed a large part of the bride-price for his own betrothed, and getting it by wagering had proven unprofitable.
Precious Wind took up the story. “The ambassador, Lok-i-xan, had already allowed his six elder daughters to become first wives to nobles of leading Tingawa clans, and he had obtained sisters or cousins of these highborn men as wives for all six of his sons in Clan Do-Lok. In this manner, Prince Lok-i-xan had already made a dozen alliances with wealth and power, enough to satisfy his ambitions several times over.”
“What were his ambitions?” Xulai asked.
Bear answered. “Clan Do-Lok has been a century putting its alliances together. We are far too lowly to be told anything about them, though everyone knows Clan Do-Lok now heads the roll of great clans in Tingawa. Only the emperor ranks higher, and even he rules only as allowed by Do-Lok.”
Precious Wind nodded in agreement. “This marriage of his youngest daughter evidently fit into Do-Lok plans well enough, though Tingawa made it look like a sizeable concession. Perhaps they felt that a seventh daughter was worth building good relationships with barbarian Norland. At any rate, the ambassador said, so let it be.”
“Mirami was a widow with children,” said Abasio, returning to the earlier subject. “Why would a king marry someone with a family to complicate the succession?”
Bear laughed. “It was his fourth marriage. During the preceding five years, he had had three noble, virginal wives in a row, each of whom died without producing any children at all. Perhaps that was enough excuse for choosing a wife who had proven herself capable . . .”
“Not to mention expeditious,” murmured Precious Wind, “as regards fecundity.”
Abasio murmured, “Since the king had been unable to impregnate his three former wives, I am surprised there weren’t some questions as to who actually, ah . . .”
“Sired either the Kamfels or Gahls offspring?” Precious Wind finished his question. “There may have been whispers, but the queen has several faithful and very dangerous gentleman advisers who are known to react violently against anyone speculating on the queen’s virtue. If anyone thought of doing so, chances are the matter remained unspoken—or was spoken of only once by someone who subsequently went away on a long, long journey.”
Xulai had been trying to remember where this conversation had begun. “I asked about curses . . .”
“Which led us to Alicia, who is half sister to the crown prince,” Precious Wind agreed. “From the time he was born, she had been his constant playmate and companion. Rancitor grew to love Alicia more than anyone. In fact, when he was about six or seven, he asked his father to award her the duchy of Altamont, which was at the time ownerless.”
Abasio looked up sharply. “A six-year-old thought of that?”
“Not very likely, is it?” Bear grumped. “The king was so besotted with having a son he didn’t ask whose idea it was. It may well have been Alicia’s idea; more likely hers than her mother’s. It’s rumored the queen had a prior claim to Altamont through a former association with the Old Dark Man, and she wasn’t delighted at its having been given to Alicia . . .”
“Especially since the queen knew nothing about it until it was done,” said Precious Wind. “Alicia was only eight when she came to court, only fourteen when she became Duchess of Altamont.”
“And this was how long ago?” Abasio asked.
Precious Wind returned to her stitchery, ignoring the question. “It was five or six years after she became Duchess of Altamont that she proposed marriage to Justinian through the mouth of her half brother, the crown prince.”
Abasio ran his fingers through his hair and made a face. “I have to confess complete ignorance about Altamont.”
Bear leaned forward to grasp a charred stick from the fire and draw with it upon the hearthstone. “Here is Wold, shaped rather like a square. The square is split from north to south by Woldswater Running and is limited on the east by the great cliffs and on the west by the peaks of the Icefang range; from those peaks the mountains slope westward almost to the sea. On that western slope, from mountain to sea, from south to north, lie the fiefdoms of Wellsmouth, Marish, Chasm, Combe, and Vale, all of them owing allegiance to Etershore-Across-the-Water, where the king’s younger half brother, Prince Orez, rules his own lands, left to him by his mother.”
Bear thumped his stick on the hearth. “Back to this land of Wold: the northern end is much higher in altitude than the southern end. The northern edge is completely taken up with an arc of tall peaks between us and Ragnibar Fjord, cut only by the Stoneway and curved like an upside-down U. From there the mountains make the rest of the U, marching southward on both east and west. On the east they rise as great cliffs to an immense tableland called the Heights of Ghastain, which is partly occupied by the King’s Highland, a slightly lower, better-watered section to the south. On the west the Ice
fang range shuts us off from the sea.”
Abasio nodded. “The same earthquake that split off Etershore pushed the Icefangs higher.”
Bear went on, “And is said to have elevated the Heights of Ghastain, yes. Small streams begin in the cliffs and in the mountains, streams that run into the valley of the Wold from the north, the east, and the west, joining together to become Woldswater Running.”
He moved his stick to the middle of the square and ran it southward. “The Woldswater continually gains strength as it flows south . . .” He made a circle with the stick. “And here, near Wold’s southern boundary, is Lake Riversmeet, where the Woldswater is joined by the river Wells. The Wells rises in many small streams on the Heights of Ghastain and flows into the King’s Highland, which is like a tilted platter, higher on the north and around the edges. Over the ages the Wells has cut through the south edge of the highland and has meandered about, creating a wide, fairly flat and fertile valley almost a third of the way down through the eastern heights . . .”
Precious Wind said, “The people of Wold usually call it the Valley of the Wells, or sometimes the Eastern Valley. From there the Wells drops down to meet the Woldswater and from there it runs west to the sea.”
“Which is not so far as it used to be,” said Abasio. “I’ve been told the waters rising has brought it a good way east of Wellsport. The onetime swamps of Marish are now an ocean inlet.”
Bear stared at him silently for a moment. “You have good informants.”
“As I’ve said, people travel, they spread the news.”
Bear returned to his lesson. “Now we come to the duchess. Not far south of the river Wells begin the lands of Altamont, rising toward the south, where Alicia occupies the Old Dark House.”
“Not a castle?” Xulai asked.
Precious Wind answered, “It is a gard, or fortress as they’re named here, but it’s called the Old Dark House by anyone who knows anything about Altamont. Those lands were owned by the Old Dark Man for a hundred years or more.”
“The Old Dark Man?”
“He was called a wizard, a warlock, a devil. His people feared him. He was seldom seen. When he was seen, people said he was eight feet tall and thin as a rail and black as night, with a long, gray beard. The Old Dark Man.” Precious Wind pinched her lips together. “Some say Mirami was his daughter. Some claimed it was Alicia who was his daughter, but he had disappeared years before Alicia was born. She didn’t actually leave Ghastain to live in the Old Dark House until she was a good deal older.”
Bear went on, “The east part of Wold, beyond Woldswater Running, is mostly farm country until it gets to the eastern edge where the cliffs rise up. One section of the cliffs, near the river, is where the only road ascends to the valley above, a region now occupied by refugees from the islands conquered by the Sea People.”
“Yes,” said Abasio. “I’m told the refugees roost like swallows! I heard about them on my travels. I even met a few who had come up the fjord and were hunting in the forests to the north. Odd folk, but pleasant enough. Is the area they have settled part of Wold?”
“It should be,” said Precious Wind. “It’s north of the Wells, which is sometimes considered to be the line between Wold and Altamont.”
Xulai murmured, “Justinian, Duke of Wold, says the line is farther south than that.”
“It may well be.” Precious Wind shrugged. “More interestingly, the plunge of the Wells over the cliffs gives Wold possession of the greatest waterfall in the world.”
“Before it falls anywhere,” interrupted Bear, thumping charred marks on the floor, “it has to wind about a good deal through the whole length of the Eastern Valley.”
“Beyond which lie the Great Stony Mountains and the grasslands where I was born, and such of the endless forests as have not been swallowed by the sea.” Abasio sighed. “I have heard much of that area but have never seen it.”
Precious Wind mused, “You’ve seen the north. We’ve been told there is nothing but forest, trees going north and east as far as anyone has ever traveled, and west through scattered islands around the north end of the seas.”
Abasio nodded. “Well, that’s mostly true, but as I said, it’s full of trails that are well used and there are many little towns, fisheries on the rivers, farms with sheep and cattle on the heights. The monsters I saw in the east have not come there. The northlands have only normal dangers: wolves, bears, some particularly large and vicious eagles, and occasional bands of cutthroats who would rather steal sheep than raise them.”
“Which doesn’t concern the king,” said Bear. “He seems to be living happily on the Highlands of Ghastain.”
Xulai looked up. “This is the same Ghastain that Huold followed?”
Precious Wind said, “Ghastain was a semi-mythical warrior. When Ghastain overran this part of the world—I do not say conquered, for there was no real force to oppose him—he called it Norland, because it was north of Ghastain’s homeland. On most old maps, Norland begins far north of Kamfels and stretches south far past Elsmere. On the west, it extends from beyond Etershore and the Great Dune Coast farther east than anyone has a map for. ‘The Heights of Ghastain’ is merely a label identifying the huge, high tableland included in that area. King Ghals claims to rule all the territory of Norland, but, in fact, he actually holds only that small part of it included in the King’s Highland, or, if one is generous, the part of the tableland north of the Eastern Valley. Holding all of Norland would take a huge army and a good deal of effort. The king is not really an energetic ruler.”
Abasio had a puzzled look. “But twenty years or so ago, when Tingawa sent an embassy to Norland, it presented itself to King Gahls.”
“True,” said Precious Wind. “But prior to that time, it had also presented itself to each of the principalities or duchies within Norland. Tingawa was very careful to reach out to Hallad, Prince Orez, and to the Dukes of Wold and Kamfels.”
“You say Ghastain was semi-mythical . . . ,” said Xulai. “And Huold?”
Precious Wind smiled. “Both really did exist, Xulai, but it is unlikely Ghastain was the mighty warrior legend tells us of. If one overruns an unarmed village of fewer than one hundred people, many of them children, and then calls it the ‘Great Battle of Lake Cohm,’ we may be excused for thinking hyperbole may be involved. Ghastain did have a friend and supporter named Huold.”
Xulai asked tentatively, “Wasn’t he said to have some powerful device?”
Bear grinned widely, shaking his head. “That’s the legend, yes. In Ghastain’s last great battle with the Sea People, Huold was carrying some miraculous device that had belonged to Ghastain. No one knows what it was.”
Abasio was once again staring at his boots, from which he seemed to gather some unspoken intelligence. “Is Justinian the only great landholder who’s not related to the king or to Mirami?”
“Ah, well, my friend,” Precious Wind remarked with a sly smile. “You cleave to what may be the heart of a trouble. It is true that Justinian, Duke of Wold, counts Wold as part of Norland. Also, Hallad, Prince Orez, counts the isle of Etershore, his fiefdoms on the west of the Icefangs, and quite a large chunk of country down the Dune Coast—all collectively known as Orez—as part of Norland. Falyrion, Duke of Kamfels, always counted the lands to our north as part of Norland. However, each of these places has always passed from prince or princess, from duke or duchess, to an appropriate heir, and each has always ruled independently rather than at the pleasure of the so-called king, whoever he might have been.”
“Couldn’t Duke Falredi have been succeeded by his sister?” asked Abasio.
Precious Wind frowned. “Justinian, Duke of Wold, says Genieve could have been legitimate heiress of Kamfels only if there had been no male heir: that is, if Hulix were not Falyrion’s son. In that case, King Gahls would have respected her right to the duchy. As the situation is now, however, the king likes having both Altamont and Kamfels more closely tied to Ghastain.” Her nose twitched as t
hough she smelled something vile. “And with Mirami whispering in his ear, he will likely not be satisfied with anything less than complete power over all Norland. And now Justinian’s wife is dead and Wold has no heir.”
“Yes,” murmured Abasio. “Now the princess is dead. Was she sick the whole time they were married?”
Bear nodded slowly. “On the morning of her wedding day, Princess Xu-i-lok fell ill and the wedding did not take place.”
Precious Wind said, “The princess rallied, however, and it was thought she would recover. During that seeming recovery, Justinian and Xu-i-lok were quietly married, here at Woldsgard, by two priests, one from Wilderbrook Abbey and one of our own religion attached to the Tingawan embassy. These dual rites were performed to forestall any talk of impropriety in either Tingawa or Norland, for even the court of King Gahls submits to the sacerdotal rulings of the abbey . . .”
“On some matters,” sniffed Bear.
“True,” Precious Wind admitted sourly. “The princess’s father, Prince Lok-i-xan, witnessed and approved of both ceremonies. Shortly thereafter, the sea war worsened, and he had to return to Tingawa. It was he who later appointed Xulai as his daughter’s Xakixa.”
Abasio asked, “You speak often of this war with the Sea People. Has anyone ever figured out why the war happened at all?”
“Ah,” murmured Precious Wind. “It’s a great mystery.”
“They hold us responsible for something or other,” said Bear. “A debt going back to the Big Kill, maybe before that. Perhaps over land . . .”
“I find it difficult to believe it’s a matter of land,” Precious Wind commented. “The Sea People don’t occupy land. They don’t have legs, after all. They don’t breathe air.”
“It was said on the islands that Prince Lok-i-xan had met with the Sea People and agreed to some kind of settlement, but that settlement was somehow delayed or disrupted,” said Bear.