The Duke's Ballad

XVIII

At first the siege created few problems. Those who’d fled outnumbered those who’d entered. The first great pack trains of spring supplies had arrived earlier, and there was ample food in the city. Kars water came from a number of deep wells. Estates like the one Aisling and her companions had rented had not only well water but also great rainwater tanks. Aisling had entered these through an opening in their roof and swept them clean. Then she had reconnected the pipes that would carry the water from any rain showers down from the roof area to fill the tanks. In one of the cellars she found a pair of hand pumps.

“Rann, where do you suppose these fit?”

He walked over. “Down outside by that lowest corner. I think I saw two outlets there.” They carried their prizes outside and discovered he was right. Keelan looked at the angles.

“Whoever built this was smart. He sloped the tank so that even a few light showers will let you pump water from here. And when the tank is full the weight of the water will make pumping much easier. But I wonder…” He thrust bushes aside and gave a yelp of triumph. “Look, Aisling. There’s a trough. It would have been meant to lie under the spout of the second pump.”

The stone trough was filled with rubbish, and bushes had grown up around it. Hadrann called their guards and gave orders. By the next day they had the wide trough cleaned and hauled into position. It would serve to water the horses. Amara had found two large shallow pans in a dust-laden storeroom. One was complete with a pierced metal lid. This was cleaned and placed by the trough. The geese and hens could drink through the holes without the geese climbing in to foul their drinking water. The other deeper lidless pan was filled for them to swim there instead.

With the siege a reality all three were able to buy openly. Other prudent families would be doing likewise. Aisling visited merchants with her necklace of hammered coins. Supplies flowed into the estate. Hadrann received a large allowance from his father. Keelan and Aisling had gold of their own. They poured out all they had. Soon traders would realize that gold had no value against the necessities now barred from entrance to the Kars marketplace.

The three bought more food, firewood, bales of hay for the horses, and grain for both them and the poultry. The hens had settled and were laying busily. Amara was delighted with that and produced a stream of delicacies based on a number of eggs. Aisling had looked over the amount of grassed land and purchased ten yearling sheep as well. These grazed on the wilder parts of the estate, keeping a nervous eye on human comings and goings.

On his second trip to Geavon’s keep Keelan had taken their carriage team and left them in the keep stables. In the livery stables the three now had only a riding beast each, and the guards had a pair of plain mounts of their own. Aisling would bring the horses back to the estate and feed them there no sooner than she must. Geavon had exchanged their found coins for other coin of Karsten. He’d then refused to keep the found coin. Keelan expressed their gratitude before using the exchanged coins to buy supplies from those leaving the city. Those fleeing had no time to waste. Gold was gold.

The siege wore on for weeks, then a month. In the city tempers grew short, as people gradually understood that the siege would not go away. Food prices climbed slowly, then more swiftly. After two months Keelan retrieved his horse from the public stables. The animal was added to those that grazed the pasture about the estate. Rain had fallen earlier, the short but heavy showers of early spring. Most came in the early hours and lasted half a candlemark but with violence. The great stone water tanks had begun to fill.

Amara’s kitchen storerooms were filled to bursting with bags of flour, sugar, salt, and other necessities. Even through the first month there’d been those willing to sell for gold. They would regret their decision soon enough. The three took every opportunity to eat at the palace. Shastro kept his usual table, ignoring the growing shortage of food. He would have what he wanted, or why else was he duke of Kars. Wind Dancer came with them and hunted happily. He made certain to bring his prey to the cook each time.

She praised him eagerly. She’d lived through sieges herself. The rats this clever beast offered might one day be all that stood between her and starvation. By late spring the estate’s tanks were brimming. But in the city other items were in short supply. Shastro was being unpleasant about servants who ate his leftovers. He claimed they stole the food and sold it. Three horses now grazed about the house. The guards had sold their two mounts. By mid summer Aisling considered the sheep and poultry thoughtfully.

“I think we may have to kill a sheep.”

Keelan stared out at the tiny grazing flock. “Why now. The grass looks good still?” Hadrann who was present, answered that.

“It is. At the moment the grass growth keeps pace with the number of mouths to eat it. But with the heat the growth will slow soon. If we have too many grazers then there will be no grass left by fall. We have to kill some of the sheep.”

Aisling joined them in studying the flock. “Two, I think. We could offer one to Shastro for the high table. Have you noticed? I think he and Kirion have been arguing. Kirion never appears at the evening meal any more.”

“I noticed. And Shastro scowls if you mention our dear brother. I think there may have indeed been some unpleasantness.”

Aisling grinned cheerfully. “Well, you know the saying ‘When thieves fall out, honest citizens come into their own.’ I guess Shastro wanted his own way. He’d have told Kirion that he didn’t care how it was done, he should just get rid of Franzo and his army.”

“And Kirion would play Hades trying to explain no one has that amount of power. He can’t just spell three thousand men and a whole siege camp’s worth of gear to vanish.”

“Shastro would ask what use was power if it couldn’t be used when you needed something done…”

“Kirion would say the duke had done well enough from Kirion’s power thus far—”

“Shastro would lose his temper and demand something be done right now, or else he’d find someone who could—”

“And our brother would call him a fool, tell him to see if he could do that, and stomp off.”

“The duke would…” Aisling started, then reconsidered. “No, he wouldn’t dare have Kirion arrested in case Kirion wouldn’t lie down for it. Anyhow, he needs Kirion’s powers. They’ll be using them to spy on Franzo and cause mischief. There’s a lot you can do to an army even using minute amounts of power. Kirion would know tricks to make those out there very unhappy.”

Hadrann had been listening with amusement. “You both know your brother and the duke well. So what will Kirion have been doing?”

Aisling snorted. “Oh, that. Well, seeing that tether ropes fray or come loose on the most restive mounts. Making yeast for bread making work too fast so all the loaves spoil. Seeing that a cook adding a handful of salt to a cauldron of stew slips and adds the boxful. En-couraging rain to move in right over the army and stay as long as possible.”

She laughed suddenly. “When I was over-mountain one of our witches caused a plague of fleas. It drove the other side totally crazy. The brutes got into everything from bedding to armor. Everyone was scratching. There’s a host of things like that one can do. It doesn’t take a lot of power and it drives the other side wild.”

“And if they do that, then it confirms the Coast Clan’s belief that Kirion and the duke are behind every bad thing that has ever happened to them,” Hadrann said soberly. “If they get into the city after a year of those sorts of tricks, there’ll be no mercy. They sack the place, kill a lot of innocent people whose only fault lies in living here.”

Aisling nodded. “But if we had something they wanted,” she said slowly. “If before they crack the walls we could offer reparations? You said Franzo isn’t a cruel man? If Kars showed it had risen against those who’d caused all this…” Her voice trailed off as they thought.

“We don’t want to go up against Kirion directly,” Hadrann said at last, “but if Shastro did, one or the other of them would lose. We might be able to deal with the other then. Franzo would accept that the two who’d caused his grief and all the clan deaths had been punished.”

“Which brings us right back to where we were when we decided to stay,” Aisling said in exasperation. “I must see both are dead and beyond creating further evil. The only things we’ve achieved in all this time are that we’re trusted by Shastro and haven’t yet been unmasked by Kirion.” She departed slamming the door in a way that showed the siege was shortening her temper as well.

Keelan looked after her in surprise. “That isn’t like Aisling.”

Hadrann shook his head. “Kee, what happens to cities when a siege works? When the besiegers break in? Maybe if their leader has declared the cityfolk as wolfsheads?”

Keelan recalled tales. “They burn buildings, steal everything portable, murder the people, even children.”

“And what happens to the rich, more especially to the noblewomen?”

Keelan went slowly white remembering his grandmother’s tale of her own family. “Dear lady. Why did we let her stay?” His eyes turned to the wall as his face slackened in relief. “The cellars. She’d be safe down there with Wind Dancer. This place won’t burn. There’s water, food, bedding. She could be safe down there for months until Franzo gets his men under control again. We can say that. She’ll feel better then, won’t she?” Hadrann said nothing. “What is it?”

“Kee, that land where she was, she rode as a soldier a few times, didn’t she?” Keelan nodded mutely. “She’s always known what she risked. She isn’t stupid. She knows about the cellars; she was the one who found them. But she’s made friends, Kee. And she knows what will happen to them if Franzo’s men break in. But she knows too that we can’t risk bringing half the court here to hide.”

Keelan wrinkled his brow. “We could hide a lot of women and children.”

“For how long? The army could be occupying the city for months if they broke in. You can’t hide and feed dozens of people. We don’t have that many supplies, and people will be people, Kee. Some woman would decide she wanted her husband. She’d sneak out and if she was caught she’d talk fast enough with what they’d do. Or some child would make a game of getting out and be seen.” He sighed heavily.

“Aisling’s thought about all of that. We talked about it while you were at Geavon’s keep. Our removal of your brother and the duke is more important. With them in power the whole of Karsten will be at war with Estcarp again in less than a handful of years. Set that against a few hundred dying here in Kars, and there’s no con-test. She knows that.” He looked at his friend. “You and I know it too. But we don’t think about it. Aisling does. She sees what will happen to those she likes in the court. She feels helpless, and it makes her angry.”

“I see. I hadn’t thought about any of that. Listen, Rann. She needs to feel she’s doing something. Let’s ask her if we can spy on Shastro without Kirion knowing. Even if we can just eavesdrop it will make Aisling feel she’s making a move toward our goal.”

Hadrann brightened. “Not bad. Let’s find her.”

They discovered her sitting in the palace suite window seat with Wind Dancer sprawled half across her lap. She was looking out of the window at the land as it sloped to where the army lay encamped. She glanced up as they entered and spoke directly to Hadrann.

“You said Franzo isn’t a cruel man. What would he do if women and children fled the city now. Before his men become too angry and too hard to hold back?”

Hadrann stood in silence. At last he answered. “I think he’d let them go unharmed. He’d question them, find out all he could about the city’s condition. Get some idea of how long they may hold out. But he’s not cruel, and he’s smart as far as a siege and soldiers are concerned. Men with those they love to protect will fight like madmen. Men with those they love safely away are more likely to listen to an offer, and a man who shows himself honorable will be heard if he offers terms.”

“Then we could get some of the court women and children away.”

“If they’ll go. Talk to old Lady Varra. Her knowledge isn’t restricted to gossip; she also knows people. If it were me I’d talk her into leading the escape if she’d agree.” He grinned briefly. “Even Franzo would listen to her. She’s a wicked-tongued old battle-ax, but she has a good heart and a lot of sense. The women would follow her, where as they’d hesitate to go with anyone else.”

From his sprawl on the seat Wind Dancer uttered a low chirrup. Aisling caressed his ears. “And what have you in mind, my furred one?”

The picture came clearly. Wind Dancer was being let down in his basket. The window on the far corner of the suite was set into the outer city wall, the palace occupying one corner of that wall. Aisling recognized the scene. It was the time of the previous brief siege, when Wind Dancer had been their spy. She watched his sending as he scouted the camp, was fed and indulged by Franzo’s cooks, and amused the men with his games as he listened to their plans and talk.

Then his picture changed. Again Wind Dancer was being let down the wall, but this time it was summer in the city. He jumped lightly from the basket with a sealed note tied to his collar. Wind Dancer’s pictures stopped abruptly. He’d made his contribution; now he wanted his ears stroked some more. Aisling obliged as her face lit. She began to speak quickly, and across the room two other faces became animated with hope.

The arrangements took time, but days not weeks. The old battle-ax, as Hadrann had named her, saw the sense and the advantages of their plan. She counseled them to say nothing to the duke. She’d see to it that the others kept their mouths shut. Shastro might use the idea to attack Franzo. Let him do that later, not at a time that would endanger women and children. They could admit what they’d done once their refugees were safely away.

Two days later a cat basket was lowered slowly from a window high up over the city’s outer wall, a section of which was formed by a portion of Shastro’s sprawling palace. It was in that section the Aranskeep suite lay. As far as anyone but the servants knew, Hadrann, Keelan, and “cousin Murna” were still spending much of their time in the suite. It was a convenient ruse, allowing them to use a single window that looked down from the city wall.

Wind Dancer’s basket settled with a soft thump, and the big cat leaped lightly out. His collar bore a letter, sealed carefully, addressed in large writing to “The Most Noble, the Honorable Franzo, Lord Commander of the Army of the Coastal Clans.” Inside it was a frank plea from Hadrann. He reminded Franzo that he was known to him, mentioned briefly that the duke might well hold out until the last, in which case the city would be ravaged by soldiers driven mad by the waiting and the deaths of comrades.

He said that fearing such, Hadrann had persuaded women and children of the court to flee the city, to take refuge with friends and family who had keeps close enough to be reached. Food was growing short in the city, and soon riots would begin in the low quarter. He begged Franzo to treat these innocents with kindness, to allow them safe passage and an escort if Franzo could spare the soldiers. This he asked in the name of a brief but honest friendship.

Several hours later Wind Dancer returned. His collar still bore a sealed letter, this time addressed to Hadrann. Franzo had responded with generosity and sense. He offered an escort, a wagon to carry the weary, the old, and the very young. Safe passage to neutral keeps for all women and children trusted to his honor. He ended the note with his name and titles in full.

Hadrann read them out slowly, his lips stretching into the first genuine smile in days. “He’s sworn to carry out his offer. With that full signing he’s staking his own and his family’s name that all will be carried out as he’s said. Any soldier who lays a hand on a woman or child does it as to Franzo himself. And he wouldn’t take at all kindly to it.” He looked up. “Aisling. Go and ask Lady Varra to attend us. I want her to read this for herself.”

The lady came, read, and pronounced herself satisfied. “I know that boy. Not terribly bright but honest. If he swears to something, he’d rather die than fail. And he’s decent. He’d hold his men back from sacking Kars as far as possible, but he knows that may not be far if the fool who names himself duke holds on beyond what is sense.”

Her mouth set grimly. “And he will. Him and that Gunnora-cursed sorcerer. They’ll ruin us all and never understand how it happened.”

She rose, winced, and swore. “Thrice damned joint ills. It’s sad to be old. Never live past your children. Not that any of mine had the sense the gods gave hens, and their offspring aren’t much brighter. But I’ll get them and their children away.” She grimaced. “Not that I fancy being lowered down any walls, but if I’m the first down the others won’t be so afraid to join me.” She looked at them, a sudden bitter humor gleaming in her eyes.

“Don’t think you’ve pulled any blindfolds over my sight, the three of you. I know there’s something else going on. But I have the feeling I’d approve if I knew what, so I’ll let it be. I’ll have everyone here and ready to leave once the revels become rowdy tomorrow night. I’ll order the children to bed after an early meal so they’ll have slept well by the time we must wake them to go.”

She stumped to the door and turned to look at them. “Watch out for Shastro once he finds we’re gone. He’s always been one to act before he thinks. My advice is to go and tell him the next morning what you’ve done. Say you did it to help him and make him believe it. Mention how much less food he’ll be using now. Tell him it was all my idea if you wish. He’d find that likely.” She gave them an evil grin and departed.

The hours slipped by. All spent the day at their rented estate, asleep in various beds. Wind Dancer cuddled beside Aisling. He could feel the emotions that roiled within her and he knew the feel of his fur against her skin was comfort. The three humans rose and attended the duke’s usual lavish evening meal. The waste of food angered Aisling, and she was dull company when Shastro sought her out. Aisling took the opportunity after that to slip away, as the after-meal dancing became boisterous. She was joined in the Aranskeep suite by a steady trickle of nervous women and excited children. Hadrann and Aisling’s brother arrived after midnight.

“Kee? Did anyone notice you leaving?”

Her brother snorted. “Notice. Most of them wouldn’t notice if I walked in naked. Shastro’s blind drunk in a corner with his latest le-man. She’s throwing him walnuts, and he’s trying to catch them in his teeth. Kirion left before we did. The rest of them are cross-eyed with drink or so stuffed with food they’ve gone to sleep in their seats. Let’s get this started.” He dug into a corner chest to produce knotted ropes. Aisling took one rope, fastening it securely. The other ropes the two men were busily tying to the corners of a leather sling.

Lady Varra plodded forward. “Right. Gently now. My old bones don’t like bumps.” She turned to look at the apprehensive group behind her. “You lot come after me. Don’t waste time. Any silly fool who decides to stay after all, I daresay these good people won’t throw them out after us. But if the siege breaks the city, she’d be better off being thrown through a window. Soldiers play longer games.” She indicated three children to the fore. “You three come as soon as I’m on the ground.”

She arrived swiftly below, lurched from the sling, and raised an arm. At once three children, great-grandsons and a granddaughter, were climbing nimbly down the knotted rope to join her. She laid her arms over their shoulders and peered about. A man approached and bowed. She spoke so quietly that none about could make out the words until he looked up and moonlight lit his face. The old woman nodded to him and signaled with the wide arm sweep that meant all was well and the others should join her.

Above them, Hadrann allowed a small smile to linger. That was Franzo. The commander himself had come to make sure his honor was not besmirched.

By ones and twos they lowered those waiting. Some whimpered in fear, but none changed their minds. When at last they were done almost two hours had passed and over fifty women and children were crowded below. Hadrann looked down. Then in a clear em-phatic movement he cast off the ropes to land in a tangle below. He knew Franzo would understand. Any others who came down would not be doing so with Hadrann’s blessing. It was also a warning that others might.

Hadrann watched as below the women and children were formed into an orderly group. He leaned out of the window, allowing the moonlight in turn to reveal his face. Franzo looked up. His arm rose in a slow salute, then he turned to take the old lady’s arm. Slowly, with respect and care, the commander of the Coast Clan Army conducted the refugees to safety.

He’d ridden as a soldier or a mercenary for half his life. Now he rode as war commander for his clan. He’d seen war, seen the awful aftermath of sieges, and knew both the horrors and the long-festering hatreds that could stem from them. Kars would fall or surrender those the clan wanted. They would give the ultimatum soon. He would do what he must and as the clan commanded, but here and now he could save some innocents from the city’s death if that went as he expected. For a soldier, it was much better than nothing.