Tale of Elske (23 page)

“They would have killed me,” the young man insisted, indignant. “What kind of law do you have here?”

“As little as possible,” Josko answered lightly. “What regulation there is exists to protect our own citizens.
My
own people, I should say, for this place is
my
stronghold.”

“And it's not much of a place, neither,” the young man said. He might have a fox's hair, but he did not have a fox's cunning. “You ought to warn strangers.”

“But would that work to my advantage?” Josko asked, patiently. “For then my people might have to turn against themselves for their livelihoods, and eventually they would have to turn on me. No, we welcome strangers to Pericol. They are our lifeblood.”

The woman, who had been silent at the back of the room, rose then, and came forward to them. “This is tiresome and you are only teasing,” she said. “Get on with it, Josko.”

“Beriel must tell me, then, what she wanted with this fellow,” Josko answered. “He's handsome enough, if you like pink cheeks. Do you think he's pretty enough for Beriel, Wileen?”

Nobody responded to this jesting.

“There's a door at the back of the room, boy,” Beriel said. “Anyone who leaves through that door has Josko's hand over his head until the next daybreak. After that, you'll be fair game again. Go now,” she commanded, putting up a hand to silence whatever he might have said to her, and he obeyed.

“You're in my debt now, Queenie,” Josko said. “To the measure of one life.”

“I have owed you a life for years now,” Beriel answered, “and I begin to hope that you will never call that debt in.”

“This is the gratitude of a Queen?” Josko laughed, and beside him, Wileen smiled approval.

“And I have another favor to ask of you,” Beriel said. “Two favors, if you keep careful count and that makes three, if we include the life just granted.”

“By all means let it be included,” Josko said. “May I offer you refreshment, and to your man, also?”

“No, but we thank you,” Beriel said.

Josko and Wileen seated themselves in the two chairs before the fire, and Beriel stood before them with Elske at her shoulder, but several paces back. Elske was overly warm now, in her cape and fur boots, so close to a fire. Beriel stood in the petitioner's position, but she seemed to be granting rather than asking.

“I ask to purchase two horses from your stables, and a supply of food, too.”

“You aren't going to stay with us until an escort arrives? The first ships are expected to pass within two sennights, if the weather holds. Your own escort is looked for daily,” Wileen said. She leaned forward to ask, “If I were suspicious, I might think that you wished to evade the company of your own soldiers.”

“Why should I trouble my soldiers when I can ride to meet them?” Beriel asked.

“I might wonder if you intend to return to your home,” Wileen asked.

“There I can reassure you,” Josko said. “Queenie would never give up her throne, not of her own choice, not of her own will, not alive.”

“She's not the crowned Queen,” Wileen pointed out. “For all that her father is dead, and buried, and she the eldest—”

“The King is dead?” Beriel demanded. “When?”

“Word reached us at winter's end, with the first who came out from the Kingdom,” Wileen said.

“The King is dead, long live the King,” Josko added.

“My brother is crowned.” It was not a question. Beriel looked over her shoulder at Elske, for once indecisive, for the first time since Elske had known her, unsure.

“Perhaps he's not yet crowned,” Josko said. “What will you do?” he asked Beriel.

“Claim my throne,” Beriel said. “So I ask you for horses, and food, and I will pay you twice their worth if you can answer me speedily.”

“If you can pay so much, why should I let you go?” Josko asked. “When your pockets are so thick with gold—more than you offer, I'm sure. When there might be a King in the Kingdom who would be glad to sit unopposed on his throne, why should I give you what you ask?”

“Because the gratitude of a true Queen is a treasure,” Beriel answered him, “while the thanks of a false Prince come stuffed with adders. Because the King of Thieves might someday need a deeper hiding place than Pericol, and a friend to help him live comfortably there.”

“A Queen's word being law in her own Kingdom,” Josko observed.

“As long as the man seeking sanctuary abides by the laws of the land,” Beriel answered.

Josko turned to Wileen then, to ask, “It has value, don't you think?”

She agreed, and asked, “Do we need a pass? Some written word?”

“Well thought, queen of my heart.” He gave Beriel paper, ink and quill. While she wrote he asked Wileen, “But what if Guerric should be King and this paper prove worthless?”

“He'll kill her for certain, then, if she has made a public challenge, and we'll be out two horses and some food, plus the life of a nondescript young man. A bearable loss,” Wileen decided.

“No; too unequal,” Josko announced. He stood up. “You,” he said to Elske. “Come to me.”

Elske looked to Beriel, who nodded. Elske approached the man until she stood not two paces before him.

“A life for a life,” he suggested. “This life for that young man's. What do you say, Queenie?”

Beriel was shaking her head. “I say, this is my proved servant, when there is no other I can trust. I do not wish to be parted from this servant.”

“I do not wish it, either, Josko,” Wileen said, but she spoke as if this were some small and careless thing.

“And do I obey your wishes?” Josko asked Wileen.

“You know the answer to that,” she said to him.

He walked around Elske, looking her up and down, and answered Wileen. “You know that you are not my wife.”

She answered him, “I don't need to be a wife to keep a man at my side.”

Beriel said, “I will take my chances in the streets of Pericol before I will part with this servant.”

“You would have no chance,” Josko told her, amused.

Beriel said nothing, for a long time. Then she spoke. “I would have a chance.”

“Leave the lad be,” Wileen said to Josko.

“Lad?” he asked, and in one swift move he had a knife from his belt and with his free hand shoved Elske backwards, until he held her pinned against the wall. The point of the dagger was at her throat as sharp as a needle, and the man looked down into her eyes.

He meant rape. She could see that. There was nothing she could do against him. But he would not live long afterwards. That she promised herself, staring back into his mud-colored eyes.

And Josko released her. He lowered the knife and took his hand from her shoulder to take her by the hair at the back of her head. “This is no lad.” He pulled her around to set her in front of Wileen. “Haven't you got eyes? This is a girl, and she's dangerous. I think she's even more dangerous than you are, Queenie,” Josko said. “But if you want to be a lad and you can't grow a beard—I'd better cut your hair for you,” he said, bringing his knife around.

“If I were you, I'd settle for stripping the girl of her boots,” Wileen said with laughter in her voice. “They're worth at least one life, if you ask me. Wolfskin, is my guess, and warm enough for Wolfers in their snowy caves. How would a girl get a pair of Wolfer boots?”

Josko shoved Elske back towards Beriel. “How indeed?” he asked, and “Do you refuse me the boots?” he asked Beriel.

Beriel raised her hand, in a gesture of command, and Elske bent over, pulled off her boots one after the other, and gave them to Beriel. Beriel presented them to Josko, who set them down beside his feet. They looked like a child's boots there beside his heavy leather ones, so he picked them up, and laid them in Wileen's lap.

“I'm honored by the gift, Josko,” she said. “And yes, pleased, too. You're in a generous humor to let these two pass safely.”

“And horses? Food?” Beriel asked.

He held out his hand, and she gave Elske the light purse from her waist, to hold, while she reached up under her skirt to take out the heavier one. This she gave to Josko, without even counting the coins in it.

He weighed it on the palm of his hand. “Two horses from my stables, and tell the men to fetch you bread and cheese for a sennight's journey.”

“How
did
you get the boots?” Wileen asked Elske.

“I am Wolfer born,” she answered.

“Wolfer?” This interested Josko. “How do you know she is not a spy?” he asked Beriel.

“But she is a spy,” Beriel answered him, and now she was the one laughing.

“So that's how you plan to do it,” Josko said. “You'll use Wolfers.”

Wileen disagreed. “Beriel wouldn't betray her own people.”

“She's ambitious for the crown,” Josko answered her.

“Beriel is a Queen,” Wileen said. “She would never give her land over to Wolfers.”

“What do you wager me?” Josko asked her, and she was thinking of her answer when Beriel interrupted their game to ask, “Do I have your leave to go?”

They both stood up, then, stood side by side. “We give you leave, Beriel, Queen that may be. And you have given us your word for safe passage, safe keeping, in need.”

“You have my word,” Beriel affirmed.

She left the room without looking back, and Elske followed in her stockinged feet. Beriel hesitated at the doorway, to let Elske hold it open for her.

Outside, late afternoon light filled the air and painted the river gold and red where it flowed past Pericol and out into the sea. Beriel hesitated on the covered wooden porch. The steep muddy bank fell away below them; if they had wished, they could have climbed up on the railing and jumped into the water, to join all the other men and women who had fallen out of the world from Josko's porch.

After taking a little time for thought, Beriel descended the staircase to a path along the high riverbank, with Elske following. Something stirred under the staircase and Beriel had her dagger out before she had turned. Elske also had drawn.

A man spoke as he emerged, crawling and cobwebbed. “Lady.” He brushed dirt from his face and red hair, and his knees, too. He straightened up, then bowed clumsily from the waist. “My Queen. I owe you my life.”

“You
are
one of my people,” Beriel said. “Your name?”

“Win. I am the third son of the innkeeper at the Ram's Head.”

“In Hildebrand's demesne.”

“Yes, under Northgate's banner.”

Beriel wore her royalty as naturally as her own skin and as she drew close to her own land, her queenliness intensified, or so it seemed to Elske, but now she turned to Elske like any girl in her delight at her own cleverness. “I thought he was. I
knew
he was mine. Tell me, Win,” she demanded, turning back to where he stood red-cheeked, eyes shining. “Why have you come to Pericol, and without any coins to buy food or safety? Do you flee the law? Has winter been so harsh in Northgate's lands that younger sons must find livings outside of the Kingdom?”

“I came to protect you, my Queen.”

Beriel asked no more. “Then you must travel with me. Stay hidden while we get horses and food. I'll look for you just within the forest.”

He bowed, and Beriel walked on along the path, without another word for him, or a glance to see what direction he chose. Elske followed Beriel.

At the stables, the men gave Beriel a wide-backed grey palfrey and a livelier chestnut, and one seat and tack, but said that her manservant would have to ride barebacked. Beriel insisted that they find some kind of bit and reins for Elske, and they did. She insisted that Elske be given a blanket, folded, to sit on, and they found one. She insisted that the stable boy be sent for the food Josko had ordered, and he was. She required the men to find a pair of boots, of a size for her servant, and one of them ran after the stable boy to tell him that, then ran back to face Beriel.

Beriel refused to step out of the sun and into the shadowy stables, and so the two men brought the horses out for her inspection, and got them ready. Through all of this, Elske said nothing; she was a sullen lad accompanying his mistress on her willful way, a lad who could not be bothered even to raise his eyes to watch the dealings his mistress conducted.

“You'll want hobbles,” the stable men told Beriel. Their greedy eyes had noted the purse at Beriel's waist. “Otherside, if these two get loose they'll come back to us like calves to their mothers at feeding time, and don't think our Josko doesn't know that.”

Beriel thought hard about the question, her brow wrinkled, her mouth frowning. At last, she offered two silver coins, for two hobbles. The men were pleased. The boy returned with heavy round loaves of bread and a wheel of cheese, two strings of onions, and also a pair of heavy, much-worn boots. Elske stuffed straw into the toes, and shoved her feet into them, as she thought a boy might who resented wearing another man's boots. She put the food into the pack she carried.

“That's a fine seat Josko has given me,” Beriel remarked to one of the men, and he smiled to show his three remaining teeth and tell her, “That 'tis. It belonged to the widow of a tanner, from the south, fleeing Wolfers. Josko let her pass through—in exchange for a horse and its gear, and a handful of coins, and a certain necklace of twisted gold that Wileen fancied, set with bright blue stones, as I was told. Whether she made it to the safety of Trastad we don't know. That would be up to the captain of the boat, wouldn't it?” he asked Beriel, smiling.

She didn't answer him.

“There's worse than Wolfers, to sniff out a fat widow,” he said. “Or a proud young woman, ill-attended.”

Beriel stared at him until his smile faded, and his eyes lowered to elude her gaze, and he bowed his head to her as she walked past him. “We'll walk the horses out of Pericol,” she announced, “as Josko has given us safe passage through.” She took the reins, and led the chestnut, which followed her without hesitation, as did Elske, leading her own mount and carrying their pack on her back.