Crown of Renewal(176)

“Sir—my lord—the king needs an answer—”

“You’ll come with us,” Arcolin said. “We have no fast horse for you to ride back; you can find one in Valdaire.”

Once he reached Foss, he went to the head of the Council. “My king commands my return earlier than planned; I leave you both infantry cohorts.”

“But—”

“But you hired all three. I know. And I know we have marched long and fought two battles for you this season. My king has urgent need; I’m taking the mixed cohort, and there is no sign that Immer is active. You’ve heard the same rumors I have.”

“That he died in Ka-Immer or at sea? Yes, but there’s no proof.”

“No, but the fact is that he did not capture Fallo, there are Kostandanyan troops allied with you, and a solid garrison of friendly troops in Cortes Cilwan. Wherever he is, alive or dead, he is not on the march here.”

“What’s happening in Tsaia?”

“Fintha,” Arcolin said. “You’ve heard about the split among Girdsmen, haven’t you?”

The councilman waved his hand. “Something religious; I’m not Girdish. I didn’t understand it.”

Arcolin explained as quickly as he could. “And so,” he said, “some people are running from the mage-hunters, and the mage-hunters are chasing them, and they’re not paying attention to borders. Including gnome borders.”

“Ahhh.”

“Yes. And the gnomes are … very angry that their borders have been transgressed, and they blame the king. Now, the king knows that I speak gnomish—”

“I see. Well. I see it is in your contract that you personally will have to leave if your king commands. And you usually do rotate a half-cohort to a cohort out in winter … but this is early … so let us say …”

The bargaining lasted only the turn of a glass, and Arcolin rode back to camp satisfied with the arrangement. Cracolnya had his cohort packed and ready to leave, wagon teams hitched. Couriers were on the way to the other two cohorts; Kaim had seen to Arcolin’s own gear and his other horse’s readiness. Arcolin rode to the head of the column, and they started off.

By traveling through the night, they had a clear road, and had almost reached Valdaire when morning traffic began to slow things down again. Still, they were in Fox Company’s winter quarters in Valdaire by early afternoon. The royal courier changed to the mount he’d left there on the way to Arcolin and rode away. Arcolin rode into the city to find the workshop where Dattur had worked.

In gnomish, with his stole visible, he said, “I seek a kapristin who would carry a message to Lord Prince Aldonfulk. I have price of Law for service.”

All the gnomes in the room stared at him before one said, “It is that no Aldonfulk is in this place today, Lord Prince Arcolinfulk. Is it that the Lord Prince will send message by outclan?”

“Yes,” Arcolin said. He laid down the coins on the nearest worktable: the price Law set for such a message.

Another gnome pushed aside a curtain between that room and another. “It is that it is urgent?”

“It is,” Arcolin said. He pulled out the letter he had written and his gnomish seal and ink. “Law requires witness for what I have written.”

Two gnomes stepped forward, including the one who had come from a back room; the others moved to the far side of the room. When Arcolin had properly signed and sealed the letter, finishing with a carefully placed drop of his own blood, the two gnomes added their names and marks. “It is done,” one of them said. They bowed; he inclined his head.

A detachment of Royal Guards met Arcolin and his cohort in Fiveway. Arcolin introduced himself to their captain, a young man not, Arcolin was certain, over thirty winters. At least he had expected Arcolin, though he seemed to have no idea why Arcolin had come.

“The king recalled me from Aarenis to take command of the defense,” Arcolin said. “We will leave immediately for the border.”

“But I thought you would stay at least a night—”

“In Fiveway? Find lodging for a hundred men, mounts, and supply wagons in trade season? No. It’s not even midday yet. We’re not stopping.”

The captain stared at the gnomes now riding in the first supply wagon. “Are those …?”

“Aldonfulk,” Arcolin said. “Envoys from the Aldonfulk prince and also my escort to Lord Prince Gnarrinfulk.”

“You’re going to … but you can’t!”

“Of course I can,” Arcolin said. “I’m the Constable, and the king expects me to deal with threats to the realm.”