The Winter Road Page 7

  “Can I drink one so I can get strong? Will it change my skin so it’s like yours too?”

  “It would change your skin after a while, but no, bluebell, they make you feel very bad, and you’re sick for a long time after you drink one. If I took one I’d worry that I’d scare you. I wouldn’t be anything like your ma, I might not even recognise you it would change me so much.”

  “Why do you drink them, then?”

  “Because if you don’t you won’t win a fight with someone who has drunk one. If I ever do drink one it would only be so I could protect you. Now, I think this is your mat. Me and your da will be coming to bed soon.”

  We’d found our way to the small barracks the families had been given for their children. I nodded to a couple of the women who must have been wives or sisters of the soldiers heading to Ablitch Fort, Othbutter wanting more of a garrison there. They’d keep an eye on him.

  “What’s it like in the Circle, Ma? Lour said there’s tree monsters and the clans there eat anyone they find sneaking on their land.” Lour was one of his friends back at Hillfast.

  I put furs over him and sat next to him on the mat. He turned towards me and curled up his legs to lean into me. He had hot hands, damp from running about the outpost. “Has Lour ever been there? Of course he hasn’t, the daft boy. The Circle is beautiful. I used to camp out in the Highmoor with my own ma when I was a girl. The grasses run for miles, the sky so big and blue it makes you dizzy and sometimes you see buffalo herds, not in their thousands, but in their hundreds of thousands. And I grew up in the Amondsen Family, which was part of the Auksen clan, on the south edge of the Circle. That is where my rope is bound to the earth and always will be.” It moved me to say it, for I’d not think about my clan’s lands for months at a time, then a memory of them would stop me still, right into my belly.

  “Why did you leave?”

  “A story like that makes me think you’re asking because you’re just wanting to stay awake when it’s late. If I didn’t leave, how could I have met you and your da?”

  He said nothing to that, grinning because I’d guessed his game.

  The next day we said farewell to those staying at Tapper’s or going down to Ablitch Fort. The van now would be the one looking to cross the Circle. Eirin marched her crew out ahead of the van each morning and waited for us at a site they’d prepared for us to camp at in the evening. We expected no real trouble this close to Hillfast and on the main highway to Elder Hill and my outpost at Faldon Ridge, but she made sure there was always a camp and a fire going when the van rolled in. There was a few days of Yalle asking Eirin how the march went, or it was Bela or Steyning making remarks about Eirin doing foot and sword drills after supper and not before, a constant nipping at her, questioning her, so I had to have a word with Yalle before Eirin did something stupid. All very well, I said to her, asking whether I was going to pay the colour again, but if she couldn’t work with Eirin it didn’t matter what I did. She shut up for a bit after that, and in a couple of weeks we was at Faldon Ridge. Ground was softening as we went but the Gassies, the vast marshes that come with the thaw, hadn’t yet fully sprung to life with their plagues of mosquies. We picked up the River Crith, which fed the Gassies from the Crutter-Vuri hills far to the north of us, and we arrived at Faldon Ridge and my outpost late at night, pushing on the few hours rather than stop short, principally because of the heavy rain that had been battering us all day.

  Here was the outpost as I knew I’d find it, good stone walls around it, ditch dug, walls manned and torches lit. Around the main farlswood gates the stables and runs on the same layout as the other outposts being built.

  This uniformity, this sense of the familiar, was something I always craved on campaign. I wanted a messenger or crewman working for me to ride from one outpost to another and know where to go for whatever he needed to do.

  Besides the camp of those who lived off or was travelling through Faldon I wasn’t expecting to see so many men and women with Clan Eeghersen’s sign on their shields and on banners, their red and black chequers. The Eeghersens was a clan from the northwest side of the circle, known for their salt trade. The rest of them was all hid in cloaks and hoods. These must have been Fierksens, the Family that ran Elder Hill, who owed fealty to Grithie Eeghersen. It was like a warband camped around my outpost, and I had to wonder why they thought to bring so many for such a short trip. They saw the Othbutter green and gold of our own banners and surcoats so didn’t much stir as we rolled in towards the gates, keeping to whatever shelter and warmth they could.

  Omar had come out and was waiting to greet us.

  He’d been a mason much in demand after paying out the colour, and had already proven his quality with the bridges south to Ablitch and east to the Sedgeway. Almost the opposite of Fitblood, he was slight as a sapling, even in his furs, had a walking stick from a fall from rigging years before and he was pressing down with little effect a mighty bushel of black hair that surrendered to no one, not even the downpour.

  “Master Amondsen, a great pleasure. As you’ll see, the outpost is much changed, and the markets here have crept from their positions on the Crith to buzz around us more closely, earning us thirty silver a month so far. It will be a challenge to find you all somewhere to sleep tonight, for Chief Fierksen from Elder Hill is here, anticipating Crogan’s arrival. Do not worry, we are quite prepared for a feast, though only a few of you will be able to sit in the longhouse.”

  “Thank you, Omar,” I said.

  “Lord Crogan,” said Omar as he walked behind me. He spoke Common, though he had taken time to learn Abra and some other lingos besides.

  “Do we feast tonight?”

  “No, my lord, it’s late with nothing prepared. Tomorrow it must be.”

  “I’m sure your crew will appreciate the rest, eh Amondsen?”

  “They will.”

  “I’ll be in the longhouse, a chance at least for a few cups with Shean.” Shean was Chief Fierksen’s first name.

  He walked past us and left us stood there.

  “I’ll have Tarret find spots where he can for your wagons; our guards will look out for them and give Captain Eirin’s crew a chance at some rest. Now, the cord roads north …” he began.

  “Omar, I’ve just ridden most of the day, you can report tomorrow.”

  “Ah, my apologies, Master Amondsen, let us at least share a jug and a pipe tonight after we’ve settled your van in. It’s been a hard few weeks here and your counsel would greatly help.”

  Even while finding spots for our wagons and horses I caught snaps of chatter about the Circle and the troubles there. I won’t lie, it was making me a bit sour, for going after a bandit wasn’t easy work and I’d not done it in many years. Three days of rain had taken everyone else’s good humour as well, and as we made our way to the gates into the outpost I saw Eirin had her soldiers form a line outside it so she could give them orders. Yalle, Bela and Steyning, a bit of uisge or ale in them, I guessed, was passing down the line behind Eirin and taking the piss. I saw Jinsy, one of Eirin’s captains, start shouting at Bela. Steyning stepped forward and threw a punch, catching Jinsy but not putting him down, then Eirin turned and dropped Steyning, her club fist putting the drudha on her backside. Sanger moved in at the same time as Yalle and he was between Eirin and Yalle.

  “What the fucking hell is going on here!” I shouted as I moved in. “Sanger, this is my shit, you should go with Jem and find you some shelter and food.” Sanger nodded and moved off into the outpost, whistling for Jem.

  “Eirin, Crewman Jinsy stepped over the line.”

  “He knows it, Master. I’m more concerned by the discipline, or lack of it, in Yalle’s crew.”

  Yalle was about to speak but I cut her off. “Yalle, the point of hiring your crew was because of your experience. I assumed you had some. Start giving a fuck. Keep your crew in line.”

  “Amondsen, when a brew goes down, when we’re working, you’ll know you won’t have hired better. Wh
en we’re walking, we expect some ribbing can be enjoyed with other men without them crying about it.”

  “Your opinion’s noted. And next time it’s Master Amondsen.”

  I told the others around us to move away, leaving me with Eirin and Yalle. I was grateful for the wind and a heavier burst of rain for scattering everyone to the buildings about.

  “You don’t need me telling you how shit like this poisons orders. Jinsy and Bela might be stuck together on rec, and if they aren’t tight, if they lose focus a moment, it could kill us all. I’m in command, not Crogan.” I softened it a touch then; I still couldn’t believe I was needing to do this, so wanted to end this lashing on a better note. “Might be the easy going so far is giving minds a chance to wander. Let’s make sure we’re on a proper van drill once we’re out on the Sedgeway. It’s Eirin’s decision on how she keeps a crew in the lands where we’re welcomed. It’s my decision how that goes in the wild.”

  They said nothing. I clasped their arms each in turn. Neither was that happy of course, not helped that we were all fucking soaked.

  Omar come up again as they walked off, a big torch hissing with the rain.

  “You said there was a cup had my name on it?” I asked.

  “I have some kannab tea and a fire lit in the office.”

  “Sounds like urgent business to me.”

  He led us to the shed at the left of the gate, through which was the office of the clearks and Omar’s quarters. With our cloaks leaving dark water trails on the stone floor he pushed chairs up to the hearth and poured out some water from the copper kettle into our bowls, adding powdered kannab and a spoon of cloudberry jam from a jar under the windowsill. I was glad the cold and wet masked the trembling in my fingers.

  “Imbala, Omar, this is most welcome.” I took a large swig of the tea, desperate to get some kannab inside me. I was feeling spiky. The dayers had got me on edge, and stoning them was something I was having to relearn.

  “Imbala.” This was his word for love. He took a sip of his drink and picked up some rags that had been drying on the hearth to press against his thick coils of hair. Little colour remained in his veins of the brews, or the skin rubs, his black skin now just faded in places, as though covered in patches of dust.

  “I cannot say how happy I am with your work here. It’s fucking beautiful.”

  “Aaah, thank you, Master Amondsen. My admiration for the people of Hillfast grows each day. You do not look to see others want if you have anything to spare yourself, for you know how vulnerable everyone is to the land, wolves and snow. The Eeghersens had been coming since we built our bridge to cross the Crith, Seikkersons too, and the Eeghersen salt was good trade, their furs as well.”

  “I saw we have a coal shed. But why did you say ‘had been coming’?”

  “Something to talk about with Crogan, for the shed’s empty, no Seikkerson vans have been this way in a while. Those soldiers out there are the first we’ve seen of any Eeghersen clan in all that time. They would run in a cart of salt a month, but no more. Then, five months ago as winter set in, some riders came over from the Seikkersons, said they’d be the last through because of this Khiedsen man murdering anyone and everyone that wouldn’t recognise him as lord of the Circle. They were on their way west but didn’t say where. I wish I had asked more of them, but this outpost demands every breath.”

  “I’m glad you told me, Omar. We’ll have to parley with this Khiese and see what negotiations can be had.”

  “Khiese’s why Fierksen’s here. There’s trouble, Master. You’re not a moment too soon.”

  The following day I went about the outpost with Omar, meeting all those who we employed, from the clearks to the guards, the smith, carpenters and farmers. I remembered most from my last visit and took time to ask after them and their families. It was something Khasgal taught me the value of and the reason he could annex Khasgal’s Landing at all and make it a power in the Western Sar, for he took pains to remember all those who would not otherwise merit a lord’s attention and so they was fierce loyal to him.

  With Fierksen here I bid Omar put a feast together to see us off onto the Sedgeway and ensure he had the welcome he might expect from Crogan visiting, for the Fierksens was strong allies with the Othbutters.

  As with our short stay at Tapper’s Way, many of the crews joining for the feast was out in barracks or on wagons with their plates and cups, and the rest of us in the main hall. We was in our cups and pipes on the high table: me, Omar, Crogan, Fierksen and their advisers.

  Omar raised his cup. “A toast to welcome our neighbours at Elder Hill and my two masters, Master Amondsen and Crogan Othbutter.”

  All of us raised our cups except Fierksen, who simply drained his cup and banged it for a boy to come fill it again.

  “Chief, we are welcomed by Castellan Omar, you eat at Master Amondsen’s table. You should remember your manners,” said Crogan.

  Fierksen’s long wild beard glistened with grease as he chewed and slurped his way through his thoughts.

  “This we’re eating, paid for with the trade gained from us, my family. Paid for through land given at my borders by you, Crogan. Seems you put these merchants of Hillfast over your sworn families.”

  “Chief, this outpost demands much from those Families near and about; we do good trade with you in turn,” said Omar.

  “There’s vans would use my own barges and our bridge at Ruggy’s Gap and now our host has built bridges south of us and don’t charge for their upkeep. It’s taking food out of our mouths, Crogan—my family are upset—yet this woman’s ambition is the least of our troubles.”

  “Maybe we feast first and retire so that I might hear your grievance in our pipes, my friend.”

  “You might hear my grievance now, Crogan, for if this gathering is what you’re giving us in answer to Crutter and Grithie Eeghersen’s plea for help—some pig, ale and thirty-odd soldiers protecting some rich merchants—then I should want to know whether you have any idea what is going on out here.”

  “We’ve had nothing from Crutter, no message.”

  “Pigshit, Crogan, this was near a month ago. You should have had messengers.”

  “We’ve had nothing. Tell me, what news? We understand there is a bandit that roves about the Circle raiding, but we’ve not learned this from Crutter, just the vans that have come through.”

  “So if these soldiers are here to rid us of him, why do I see families and merchants all set for a good long trip?”

  “It’s not our principal reason for coming out here, Chief,” I began.

  “No, it isn’t, woman. Seems you can lead Othbutter’s own guard and his brother to whatever profitable purpose suits you, for I see Captain Eirin down there at a table, but it don’t seem to be to stop us Eeghersens being raided to the north.”

  Thad put his hand on mine at that point, for he must have seen me tense.

  “Shean,” said Crogan, “my brother sends us to build relations we have wrongly neglected in the Circle. I am here to do justice, I bring trade and gifts. I am here also to listen to grievances such as this. Chief Othbutter is listening, Fierksen, he is sorry he did not listen sooner. I have to ask, however, why you feel there ought to be more soldiers here. You’ve brought many yourself.”

  “These whiteboys as they’re being called, they seem to be everywhere, that’s why. Four families sworn to Eeghersen, all have had boys taken, food and plant, on pain of death. I’ve got Family chiefs telling me these gangs turn up like the dead come back, all bone-white and half mad. This Khiedsen boy, calls himself Khiese, he’s talking about uniting the Circle against you, Crogan. Grithie got a posse together and run them off Meilerssen’s theit not three weeks ago. Nobody’s heard from the Meilerssens since then, and I sent a runner up there and he come back saying place looks abandoned. Hopefully they in’t all dead, and he saw no sign of it, but my lands near the Sedgeway as they are, and the bridges, might be something this Khiese is looking at. Might even be looking at this out
post of yours, woman.”

  “I’ll have a man go back to Hillfast and secure some soldiers to come out to Elder Hill,” said Crogan.

  “Aye, good. Weiden Crutter will also help us. They at least have sent someone here to tell us that they’ll see us right,” said Fierksen.

  Crogan looked pissed off at this but said nothing. Might be he was wondering, like I was, what the Crutters was up to for they long coveted the staff of the ruling clan.

  “Any other families having problems, Chief?” I said.

  “I suppose you’ll find out. You heading north to see Grithie then, Crogan?”

  “Seikkersons are first,” I said. “We go there then to the Almet, to the heart of the Circle. We will parley with the Oskoro. I will make sure we return to see Grithie on our way back through.”

  “You’ll what? Didn’t you just hear me talking about us being raided by the Khiedsens and you what? You think you’ll wish up an army of baby-snatching tree fuckers to solve my problems?”

  “This expedition is about nothing other than us uniting all the clans of the Circle. But we only do this through the Almet, to walk there once again, and that’s why we need the Oskoro,” I said.

  “I’m speaking with Crogan. I want the thoughts of a woman who long ago betrayed her own rope for coin I’ll let you know.” I give Crogan a look then, expecting something from him, but he tightened his lips, a sign I should leave this to him. I stood up, Thad standing with me, not sure whether I was about to drop Fierksen on his back.

  “Chief Fierksen, you are in my house, on my land whether or not I got a cock or cinch. Your horses will be led from our stables at dawn, and you’d better be up early enough to sit your fat arse on one or you’re walking home.”

  I left the table and walked out of the longhouse. I was shaking a bit. Thad caught up with me and we saw Chalky and Aude standing by the outpost gates, which was open, talking to the guards there while sharing some pipes.