Much Fall of Blood-ARC (35 page)

"They're foreigners. It's different," said David.

"Well, I'm not buying you some smarter clothes because you won't be seen dead in what you have. They'll just have to put up with you as you are. Or you can cook in that thing."

That was all too close to the truth. The part about being seen dead, and the part about cooking.

A little later, Erik had come past, doing his usual checks on the column and scouts. He had his visor raised within the column. He raised his eyebrows looking at David.

David had to admit that he'd at least tried to avoid being noticed quite so much by Erik, since the practical joke. He'd also tried to avoid any more temptation in this direction, especially after he'd been caught out. But the Frank's face did make it hard to resist. And he did feel that there was still some payback justified, even if Erik and Kari had saved his life from those barbarians on that island.

"Are you sickening for something, brat?" asked Erik. "It's as hot as a warm day in hell, or even a cool day in summer in Jerusalem."

David decided to play it for sympathy. "I am not feeling too well."

"I'd better get Falkenberg to look at you, then," said Erik. "He's as near to a Knight Hospitaler as we have with us. Mind you, I could ask one of the Mongols. Maybe they have a healer."

"Er . . . no. I'm really not feeling that sick. Perhaps I could just ride back to that village in Illyrian territory and wait until you all came back."

Erik snorted. "I don't think you'd survive, boy. The world out there is more complicated than Jerusalem. Maybe I can get you a ride in the Mongol lady's ox cart. You could hardly ride it worse than you do that horse. I'll go and ask her."

He rode off, and came back a short while later. He was smiling. That was enough to worry David. He had seldom seen Erik smile, and never for no apparent reason. "Come along, brat. The lady says she'll do you up as a pretty little Mongol boy. No one will ever accept that something as lowly as a mere horse-boy will be smart enough to ride in a Mongol lady's cart. I've been talking to Kari. So if you're sick, or not smart enough? Either way we'll fix you."

David groaned. But he had learned by now that there was not much use in trying to resist Erik. Besides, he could lie down in the cart, couldn't he? No one would see him there.

Of course, when he got to the cart he discovered that the noble Mongol lady had her own ideas about what to do with him. It appeared that these included cutting his hair and dressing him up in her brothers deel. "I'm sure that they would hardly recognize you like that," she said, with a twinkle in her eye that he entirely distrusted. From the lofty height of his 15 or possibly 16 years he knew that women were usually not to be trusted, especially when they looked at you like that. And after they had asked you if your mother was a tortoise, definitely not.

On the other hand, it did appear that she was going to let him drive the cart. That was more pleasant than riding as far as he was concerned. And he did rather enjoy wearing the fine clothes. He noticed several of the Golden Horde riders were plainly very impressed. He sat tall, forgot about the various ills of his life and played off the attitude and manners of nobly born Ilkhan Mongol. He doubted that they were that different to the ways of the Golden Horde.

Bortai had to laugh again. The tengeri were surely playing some complicated game with her life, and for that matter, with Kildai's. The foreign knight, Erik, must by now think that she spent her entire life laughing, principally at him. But he had told a good story, even in his broken Mongolian. Storytellers and singers were much liked and respected, the great ones as much as Shamans and Orkhans. He seemed genuinely concerned about the serf who looked so like her brother. Well, he did say the boy was much trouble. So was Kildai, except when the seriousness of being a leader of the Hawk clan was impressed upon him, which, sadly, usually lasted only a few heartbeats.

She was of course pleased to 'help'. She hoped she didn't look too utterly delighted by his request.

A little later Tulkun rode by again. He grinned at her. She beckoned him closer. Using every ounce of protocol at her disposal she addressed him very flatteringly. He grinned wider. "And what is it that the noble lady requires? When my wife is that polite to me, I know that she wants something."

"The wisdom of the noble warrior from the bear clan stands as high as the eternal blue sky," she said, with her best smile. The one she saved, normally, for asking just how much a warrior would dare to wager on a wrestling match.

He chuckled roundly. "Oh, this is a large one. What is it that you desire, noble lady?"

"Just that if any of the people of the Raven clan of the Golden Horde should ask, my brother Kildai, as well as having been concussed, has broken his leg. It is not too serious," she said demurely. "You saw how they strapped it up and splinted it, did you not? It will make riding very painful until it heals."

He laughed again. "I suspect that this is a very clever trick. But I do not see that it will do me, or my master the tarkhan, any harm."

"No. And it will earn you the gratitude of the Hawk clan."

He nodded. "If any of them should ask me, I'll tell them that. You do not want them to think he can ride?"

"Something like that," she said, favoring him with a smile again.

She was pleased to see, a little later, after some quick barber work, and changing the boy into Kildai's beautifully embroidered deel, and even letting him wear Kildai's sword, that her judgment had been dead right. So long as they did not really get a close look at him or see him riding . . . The sword too, he was plainly unfamiliar with. Ion was able to leave off driving the cart, and she let the boy take over with it.

This David seemed to be enjoying, which was something Kildai would never have allowed anyone to see, even if he did. And by the looks on the faces of the Raven Clan escort, Tulkun had done his part too. It would make nearly as good a story as the tortoise greeting, if they got away with it. And there was some delight in playing such a trick on this serf from Ilkhan lands. No matter what his birth, he had shown himself to be a practical joker. A trickster. It was a dangerous way to establish your status, but it was both popular and effective. Of course any such trick always called for a reply. She smiled to herself; she was, in a way, repaying Erik for his generosity, and this David for his practical joke. Besides the look on the faces of the Raven clan made it all very worthwhile.

A little later the blond knight came riding up again. He was, she noted, ever vigilant. An Orkhan who did not believe in merely delegating his responsibilities. She could understand why the tarkhan Borshar had hired such a mercenary, if he was going to hire such things at all. She'd seen quite a number of battle commanders, and this was one of the most methodical she had ever come across.

He looked at David. Blinked. Looked again. Then he motioned for her to ride next to him. They rode ahead a little. "He looks very like your brother. Clever. I should have seen."

And she should have realized that someone as vigilant as this would not miss the similarity. Or be taken in by the deception. She could only hope that the Raven clan was led by less observant warriors. "They look quite like each other," she admitted. "If they see him sitting up, they will not realize that he cannot ride away."

He looked at her keenly. "There is more, yes?"

He was entirely too astute. She nodded. "There is conflict between this clan and ours. Believing that my brother is recovered will worry them. That is good."

"I have a lot to learn about your people," he said. "Good luck with this."

His eyes, never still, scanned the countryside. "It is a fine, rich land this," he said.

"Ours to the north is better," she said proudly. "What is your land like?"

"Mostly rocks," he said with a smile. "And very much colder. But when I have finished my . . . " he searched for words and ended up with, "serving." Which was plainly not quite what he wanted to say. "I am going back to Vinland. There is much good rich land there. I went there before," he searched for the word again, and had to settle for 'serving' again.

Bortai had to smile at his description of his family's lands. Not many of the Mongol would admit to their lands being 'mostly rocks', although in some cases it was true. It also explained what he was doing here. He was probably a second son. At least it would seem he had no plans to carve out a holding on Golden Horde lands, or, not yet. "So where is this Vinland?"

"A long, long way to the west," he said. "Across a huge . . . water, that takes us weeks and weeks to cross. My home is . . . part of the way. On a land in the water."

"An island. In the sea," she explained, resisting an urge to ask him if his people tended fish on seahorses.

He repeated her words, carefully. "And you would call them?" He supplied the words. And asked for a few others. It was amusing. But he never stopped looking out for trouble.

And when it came he reacted with speed and ferocity.

They had fallen back slightly and were now level with David and the cart. He suddenly dived sideways, snatching the boy off the bench of the covered cart.

An arrow ripped through the covering of the cart. Had he still been sitting there, David would have taken it in the chest. Erik had somehow spotted it in the process of removing David from its path he had also knocked her sideways, almost off her horse. She could not be certain that that was his purpose, but they were the only unarmored people there.

The responses from the Frankish knights were equally rapid, and plainly very practiced. Well, the movement of the knights was practiced and coordinated. What nearly frightened half of the Raven clan off their horses was the dark-skinned man and his hand cannons. He had fired four of them in to the copse, which the arrow had almost certainly come from, even before the steel-clad knights had got to a full gallop. Some hurtled towards the trees, the others closed in around them, as they pushed the whole column, including the poor ox and cart, into a run.

Bortai had pulled herself back into the saddle, and, plainly on orders from Erik, found herself between three steel clad knights. The man with the hand cannons had leapt from his horse and onto the cart, a feat fitting of a Mongol warrior. The Raven clan obviously did not know quite what to make of all of this. It was apparent that although they were supposedly escorting the knights, the knights themselves were looking after the situation. A few hundred yards later someone—possibly Erik—called a halt. Looking back, Bortai could see why. The small column of knights that had detached itself, now accompanied by a couple of Arban of Raven clan warriors were returning. With a dead body.

Erik, still with the serf boy David across his saddle bow, rode up. He dropped the boy, who sat down abruptly panting and wild eyed at their feet. Eric was not laughing now. "I did not bring him to you to be killed."

"They are without honor," hissed Bortai, white with anger. She had expected treachery, but later, in the dark, when they could do it with poison or a thin-bladed dagger. She had never expected anything quite this blatant. True, had the boy been killed, and the knights and the man with the hand cannon been less rapid to react, the bowman would have got away. No doubt the Raven clan would have sent several Arban 'in pursuit'. They might even have brought someone back. Almost certainly, a dead someone. Possibly even the bowman. They would have been handsome and fulsome apologies. Blood money paid—they were under the escort of the Raven clan. It would have been a matter of considerable embarrassment. She would not even have been surprised if they did escort her home after that. She was not that important in their scheme of things. Killing Kildai plainly was.

"I nearly got killed," said her brother's look-alike, still stunned.

The man with the hand cannons had pulled the cart up next to them. He said something. The boys staggered to his feet. Bortai noticed that the man who had taken control of the cart was patting him on the shoulder with a sort of rough kindness. She felt terribly guilty. They did not look alike, but what if it was his younger brother? "I'm sorry," she said humbly. "I did not expect this."

"You warned me, Lady," the serf David said, gratefully.

That actually made her feel worse. It was conduct without honor. And without honor the Hawk clan was nothing.

The knights who had sortieed, together with two of the Golden Horde Mongols, Tulkun and a second man, and two Arban of the Raven clan came riding up. Bortai noticed that Erik's huge companion had made his way there too.

Bortai let her fury explode within her. A little later, when she calmed down, she was not entirely sure quite what she had said to the commander of the Arban. It had included quite a lot of terminology that a wellborn Mongol lady should not admit that she knew. The leader of the Arban was bright red, and the serf boy David was laughing so much that it looked like he would fall over. Tulkun and his companion were looking at her with a mixture of shock and amusement.

The commander of the Arban stuttered out the start to a reply.

Bortai, now that she had vented some of her spleen, demolished him in a few well chosen words about the honor of his clan. And told him to go. Now. To remove himself from her sight, and to do the sort of job of patrolling that honor really demanded. She knew just as well as he did that the archer was from his own clan. She also knew that the humiliation would prevent them from trying in that manner again. It did not stop her from being badly embarrassed too, later.

* * *

"By Christ's blood!" said Manfred admiringly. "I don't understand a word of it, but I have heard drill proctors with thirty years experience give a gentler chewing out. She's quite some spitfire, that girl. Take my advice: stick to the meek and mild ones. They're not as much fun in bed but at least you get to keep your head on your shoulders."

"She certainly was as shocked and angry as any one can be. She . . . has quite a rough tongue. I thought at first that she'd set David up as a decoy—a false target. I was fairly angry with her. He's just a fool of a boy."