The Winter Road Page 6

  Eirin Bredssen was Othbutter’s own captain. Her letnants were Skallern and Jinsy, each with twelve men. I’d seen her about Hillfast, ignoring the duts that shouted “Clubber” after her, for her one hand was badly deformed from childhood and she’d had a lump of steel made as a glove for it, a fist that felt no pain. She was as big as Bela, but stern with her crew, fastidious about duty and their good order. I learned that she was the first Bredssen to rise to anything and therefore fanatically loyal to Hillfast and Othbutter. And while the thought of some well-drilled but wet soldiers of Othbutter’s didn’t burnish my confidence, I knew at least she’d keep them in line and hold true.

  Rounding out the van was a couple of merchants: Chalky Knossen, who put in coin and hoped to find new partners in Stockson, bringing his family with him; Theik Blackmore was a bit different, and bought into sharing my risk on the outpost at Faldon Ridge, paying for many of its soldiers and craftsmen. He was going to stay at Faldon Ridge to help establish it. My outpost castellans was already in place. I’d chosen a Cassican called Omar for Faldon Ridge and an ex-Farlsgrad soldier called Fitblood for Tapper’s Way, a lovely big old barrel of a man who Mosa couldn’t wait to meet again. Omar and Fitblood’s crews had worked towards each other to make the route up to the edge of the Circle quick and sound. I was aiming to run an outpost myself near my own clan lands and move on when I thought best, through the Eastmarch and beyond to Stockson in Forontir. I had other outposts north up the coast and south. One day I hoped to see all these outposts joined by good roads and trails so all the clans across Hillfast could more easily trade with each other.

  We had a good fast run through the frozen vales inland from the coast to Tapper’s Way on the river Braeg. Faldon Ridge was the main outpost and my first to go up. This one was newest, only half built, but it was already catching good trade on the Braeg as it ran north to the Warrens and south to Ablitch and the Gassies. There was a half-built stone wall around a few sheds, barracks for the crews busy cutting and laying stones and working wood. There was already runs for the animals of course. Surrounding the outpost was easily a hundred or so tents of those who saw the chance of some coin and work, along with some resting up with their wagons. From duts to tinkers to hands looking for work, they all sat about their fires or was fixing up their wagons or cooking. I was glad to see that the stones and wood for the outpost was all guarded and fenced off. We was all eyed carefully as we moved our van through. Nobody was in a mood to risk a bit of filching off our wagons with Eirin’s crew leading their horses alongside them, her having them keep their cloaks and armour clean, Othbutter’s green and gold standing out.

  Stood in the middle of it all, hands on his hips, was Fitblood. He was the size of a tree, a big firm belly probably the only difference between the man now and the man who made quartermaster of the Farlsgrad First Guard eight years before. Eight years since he paid out and ran the tallies and scrolls for them well enough I paid him double to do it for me not two years ago when I first begun planning this venture. I waited for Crogan to dismount along with Eirin, Yalle and old Sanger.

  “Master Amondsen. Good day!” he bellowed, before raising a hand to stop me from saying something back, turning instead to four riders who had trotted up behind him.

  “Bruissen! On your return from the bridge I want to know that the lime and alum has arrived. I also want to know if he needs any more men, I’ve got eight scratching around somewhere wanting five pennies a day plus rations. Now, my apologies, Master Amondsen,” and Bruissen knew not to wait to be dismissed so rode out with his men, “where is your handsome Mosa and your good man Aude?”

  I got off my horse and hugged him.

  “Who’s this lot with you?” he said. So I did the introductions.

  “You built this, Amondsen? Chief not covering coin?” said Chalky.

  “We did, though Othbutter give us this bit of land. We’re also building a bridge over the Braeg.”

  Chalky looked over at Crogan then, who might have been thinking about the opportunity for tithes lost because his brother likely didn’t understand what I was up to.

  “It seems we did give her this land. I expect our chief or Tobber agreed a cut on what you’ll take from the bridge?” said Crogan.

  “I’m not charging anything for people to use that bridge.”

  “You’ve lost your senses,” said Yalle, who’d trotted up behind me as Aude clasped arms with Fitblood and the huge man took up Mosa, holding him high in the air.

  “Have I?”

  “Bargemen’ll be pissed off, and there’s a few wooden bridges northeast a bit who’ll lose out.”

  “Not my concern. I won’t charge. There’s a straight trail east we’re making good with cords—by which I mean cord roads—that meets my bridge first. And those others? They aren’t maintained like they should be. Any van with a load worth anything is forced to ask the bargemen to make crossings, and now they won’t have to. Fuck the bargemen. Thieving bastards been robbing us merchants blind for years, right, Chalky?”

  “That is true. Your bridge will save coin and time on the crossing, if it can cope with the floodwater.”

  “Of course it can cope, Master Knossen,” said Fitblood, who held Mosa against his vast chest. “It is a construction for which I have the best design, with farlswood roots and stone arches. The mason is from Elder Hill, the finest in the region.”

  “Your coin to throw away, I reckon,” said Yalle, “but I would be charging a toll.”

  “If she was the sort of master to charge a toll for it, I doubt she’d have persuaded me to leave Farlsgrad, good lady. If you haven’t seen the Farlsgrad roads they call the Wheel, you might not understand what Master Amondsen is looking to achieve. You’ll all have her to thank in years to come as these good roads and outposts bring this country together as they have in Farlsgrad.”

  “Yalle’s right, however, isn’t she?” says Crogan. “All this is hardly profitable. Can’t really understand why you’re doing it when you got it easy back at Hillfast.”

  “I’ll make enough from charging the vans and others that come through if they want to make use of our service. I told you why back at Hillfast, didn’t I? It’s about me doing some good, not just getting rich.”

  “Yes, still doesn’t make sense given you don’t owe any of these people fealty, but there we are. I hope Faldon Ridge is a bit further along than this outpost in its building. The Elder Hill chief, Fierksen, is down to meet us there and I doubt it’s to congratulate you, Amondsen.”

  “How long are we staying for, Master?” said Sanger, the old mercenary, reading the need to interrupt how this was going.

  “Tonight only. There’s no real place to shelter all of us here at the moment, but we could all use some good hot food and a keg or two to wash it down.”

  “I’ll see to it, Master,” said Othbutter. “The stables at least are finished, as are some of the barracks we can put the families in, if they don’t mind squashing up. There are two messengers of Chief Othbutter’s staying, besides your van, paying only their food as instructed. Now, Mosa, I see a lot of other children in your van, and I’ll need the help of all of you to find a box of honeyed apples I’ve lost!” Mosa yelped and tore himself from Fitblood, running down the line of wagons and horses to shout at the children. Fitblood led us through the farlswood gates, waxed to a shining red that almost glowed in the small part of the wall that was complete.

  “These are beautiful,” said Aude, nodding to the gates. They was something I insisted on. I did a lot of trade over the Sar for them and I loved the wood, thought it would make a good impression on those who come by the outposts. We led our horses to the stables ahead of the rest of the van, finding stalls next to each other. He ducked under the wood panel into my pen while I was undoing the clasp and slid his hands about my waist, standing behind me. I could feel him harden, and his hand slid up from my waist to my breast, fingers rounding its curve, lifting my nipple.

  “There’s a boy four stall
s down,” I whispered far too loudly. It didn’t stop me from reaching back to grab his backside and press him against me. I wanted to feel it, I wanted to tease him too, though I felt a flush of lust that threatened to blot out the world. The heat of my horse and the smell of mud and sweat almost pushed me over the edge.

  I turned into his arms, glancing down before meeting his eyes. “I think we ought to check on the horses later, after the feast, ensure they’re comfortable in here. You agree?”

  “I do, bluebell.” His fringe fell forward, tickling my nose as we kissed. I tucked it behind his ear.

  “I wasn’t talking to you.” I bumped my hips against his cock. He held me with one arm and traced the back of my head with a finger, running circles over the stubble and tufts that I braided, calming us both down. I could see he was deep in thought as he looked at me.

  “Teyr, while I knew you had to be away all these months making this happen, as stupid as it sounds I still didn’t expect, well, all this. All those plans have become real and they’re around us. I was watching the others, Chalky, Crogan, Yalle, when we arrived at the gate. A look passed between them. One could have read contempt in it, but I doubt it was that. I think it was a bit of admiration. You know I had my own doubts these last couple of years. But you’ve won us all over and I’m more proud of you than you could ever know. You’ve changed this bit of world already.”

  “You have a silver tongue, I’ll give you that. There’s a lot to do here, and if they was exchanging looks, then I think they’re keeping their doubts about my sensibilities tucked away a bit. Faldon Ridge outpost is built already, I can’t wait for you to see it. I need them to see it too; I can’t have them losing respect for me and what I’m doing here.” I held him close for a bit then, needing his reassurance, enjoying the quiet after the stable boy shuffled off. Soon enough I felt him rear up against me again.

  “You don’t give up, do you? Get your tack off your horse, and we need to find Mosa before he’s sick on Fitblood’s apples. I can’t imagine we’ll be back in here before having at least one roasted pig each, if I know Fitblood, but you’re going nowhere else tonight before we sleep.”

  There was a feast. Spits was set up in the main hall, and though the roof wasn’t completed it was a dry night. Of course it wasn’t built for such numbers and we all helped the servants and men garrisoned here to cook the meat and keep mugs filled. Many took their food outside.

  The children had all fallen in love with Fitblood and followed him about, waiting for him to spin around and roar as he went through the hall, full of jokes, arms full of platters. I entered the hall and took a seat next to Thad, who had himself just lit a pipe and joined our mercenaries, who was all sat together, Yalle and her crew, old Sanger and Jem.

  “Our leader!” said Bela, one of Yalle’s crew and a few ales in. “Aude is your keep, isn’t he?”

  “He is,” said Yalle quickly, “and you should remember it when your hands start wandering, Bel.”

  “If they wander tonight, they’ll wander over to Jem, in’t that right, lovely?” She was sat next to Jem and she leaned against the pretty young man, pushing her babs out a touch. “But say, Teyr, ’sides your coin, which you’re splashing around on all this, what does Aude …”

  “See in me? I ask myself that, so you don’t have to.” I forced a laugh out with her and tapped her mug with mine. Then I leaned over to Yalle and put my lips to her ears: “We’re out before dawn tomorrow, the days are short as it is. She needs to be ready. She also needs to address me as Master Amondsen or Master, while I’m the purse.”

  “She will be ready, you shouldn’t doubt me on that.”

  “I’ve a livener if there’s any problem with Bela,” said Thad quietly, “caffin and shiel. One snort and you’re a league out of your bed and flying south for winter before you’ve got your boots on. Trust me.”

  “Thank you, Thad, but we’ve got a mix for our girl,” said Steyning, who Thad hadn’t thought was much more than a cooker, which is to say, an amateur, when they first went over preparations for the van.

  “You’re not paying colour lately, Master Amondsen?” said Yalle.

  “No, I’m paying you and Sanger.”

  Sanger smiled.

  “I admire your confidence,” said Yalle. “I heard you were once useful with a blade and bow. But time rusts us all.”

  “It does, sadly.”

  She’d made her point, though Bela smirking nearly earned her the edge of my plate in her face. I had gone back on the dayers, the day brews that give a lift but are not close to the speed of thought or body of a proper fightbrew. Still, my veins was swollen and jet-black again. I had to explain it to Mosa, who thought I was becoming sick. I hoped I wouldn’t need to go back on the fightbrews ever again, they wasn’t something I wanted Mosa or Aude to see me on. I turned to Sanger, who’d been quietly watching us and was watching everything else, I’m sure. He had some bark in his neck and some slivers in large cuts on his arms. They’d been worked in well by whatever drudha had done them, and it was the first time I’d seen the old man out of his chainmail, just a loose shirt on with an open neck. Like the other mercenaries he still wore his belt. I used to wear mine everywhere too. I missed it often, even all these years since I last wore one; kept going to adjust it or move the pouches around my legs when I was sitting down. It was your life on campaign, lose it and die.

  “Sanger, everything good? Anything you, Jem or the horses need before we move on to Elder Hill?”

  He shook his head. I looked over at Jem, who was glancing at Yalle. Easy to understand why, she was fine to look on. She had noticed his attention, a thoughtfulness on her then that I realised was her deciding what she might do about it. Jem said about as much as Sanger those last few days out of Hillfast. Pair of them had done the north coast runs, but Sanger had been further afield, past the Circle and east towards Lagrad, fighting at the borders there, though he hadn’t come across Yalle, who’d taken purses that way too. Jem was a good kid, I couldn’t see him as a mercenary at all. He could do tricks for the children which had a few of Eirin’s boys smirking and making some comments, for he could have been thought sullen when he was around us, doing whatever Sanger was bidding, almost like his slave.

  “How’s Jem?” I asked. “Can’t read him. Don’t seem as worn with this life as he might, if he’s not as wet as you’re saying.”

  “He’s quiet,” Sanger said. “He looks up to you. He puts his purses aside once his plant’s paid, aiming to get a share on a boat. He not spoken to you about it?”

  “No.”

  “It’s why I have him. He’s got a good heart but he is ruthless about a purse, no distractions, morally flexible once he’s signed. He finds a way to keep the man in him away from the killer. Like there was two of him in the one head.”

  “Perfect mercenary then.”

  “Ay, maybe. Say, Master, you’re sure about the brews? Circle clans barely trust each other, and coming out of winter they’ll be flinty, especially with this bandit preying on them.”

  “We come from the chief. We keep south Circle then we’ve only got two clans to think about and whatever bandits and crews are out there. They won’t have drudhas.”

  He leaned in then to whisper. “They know the land, they got numbers. You should be assuming that. Your van’s organised, or I wouldn’t have taken the purse, but get yourself on the brews again and I’ll feel a lot better about the Second Lady of Khasgal’s run making it.” That was a title I hadn’t heard in a good while, one I didn’t deserve.

  He sat back, and I doubt the others heard it, Yalle asking Jem about his purses and Bela watching Jem too, a pair of leopards flattering a sheep.

  Mosa ran up then, throwing his arms around me from behind. “Save me from Fitblood, Ma! He’s chasing us!” His fingers was sticky with honey. I turned and saw his lips was glazed with it too.

  “Well now, the one place Fitblood isn’t going to get you is in your bed. I need to get you to the barracks wit
hout him seeing, don’t I.” I turned to face him, saw Fitblood approaching and gestured with heavy eyelids that I needed to get Mosa off to sleep. I took him up in my arms and walked him through the benches. Aude was watching us from his table and we winked at each other before I passed through the great doors and into the main run.

  “Are we going tomorrow?” said Mosa.

  “Yes, bluebell. It will still be dark, and the moon you see there, it’ll be on that side of the sky when we head off. “

  “I want to stay.”

  “And I want you to meet my family; my brother and uncle and all the Family children.” He put his cheek on my shoulder and yawned. The excitement was dying in the cold.

  “Have you made friends with the other children?”

  “Mmm.” He was settling.

  “And what did you play tonight? Was Fitblood a wolf?”

  “He was, it was the Frenzy and he was king of the wolf pack. Will we be out when the Frenzy happens again?”

  “No, son, it’s once a year the wolves eat the amony and go wild. We will be in Forontir by autumn, when it flowers. And when did you last see a wolf anyway?”

  “I haven’t. What are they like?”

  “Just really big fierce dogs, and they get much bigger during the Frenzy, taller than you.”

  “Da said you used to drink fightbrews, and you got bigger and stronger than any man and could lift trees out of the ground with your hands.”

  I laughed. “They do make you stronger. Thad makes them for the soldiers who protect us. They have amony in them as well. His brew is famous, ended up in the Roan Province’s principal recipe book, The Eyes of Trahsar. He made a fair old bag of coin for that.”