The Protectors war

Chapter Twenty-One

Sutterdown, Willamette Valley, Oregon

August 24th, 2007 AD-Change Year Nine

Juniper received the Protector's ambassador in Sutterdown's town hall, which had once-long before the Change-been a church; the broad high-ceilinged room that had been the nave was usually used for public meetings these days, plus dances and sundry social events; ba

Which Eddie Liu should be. And we're in for a blizzard of formality, Juniper thought. Then: Sacred to Epona:

She shivered slightly at that thought and instead watched Eddie Liu approach, the boots of his party sounding hollow on the hardwood floorboards. Mackenzies with bows across their backs and spears grounded before them waited silent and motionless along either side of the aisle, looking a little strange in the Victorian-era room with its plastered roof and tall arched windows, and a mixed crowd waited behind them. Tom Bra

Juniper glanced at the half-dozen following Liu and Mack, tramping stolidly in a column of twos. They were supposedly servants, clerks and attendants, but they all had the broad-shouldered, thick-wristed build of men who swung swords for hours every day, and from their slightly rolling walk they rode just as often. Hard-faced young men, wary and silent, their eyes flicking across the faces around them in unfriendly appraisal. She was reminded of nothing so much as a group of large, silent, hungry and not-very-sweet-natured cats.

Protectorate knights, she thought. Too young to have been among the SCA re-creationists or gangbangers or university students who'd made up Arminger's earliest cadre, but certainly their younger siblings, and those of their friends and retainers.

And more dangerous than the first set, this younger generation. They're not just thugs. Which doesn't mean they aren't thugs, too.

"Lady Juniper, my master Norman Arminger, the Lord Protector of the Portland Protective Association and liege lord of its dependencies, sends his greetings," Eddie Liu said formally. That sort of thing always sounded a little strange in his Brooklyn accent. "I speak in his name and with his voice."

Equally formally, he went to one knee, removed his silver-banded hat and bowed his head, and so did his followers, in unservantlike unison. Several of them also made an unconscious gesture with their left hand and foot, to move nonexistent sword sheaths out of the way. Kneeling was Protectorate protocol, and they had to show the same respect for a foreign head of state that he would for a public audience with the Lord Protector.

"As I speak for the Clan Mackenzie, being Chief of the Clan by the Clan's choice, and I send my greetings to him through you, Baron Liu," Juniper said coldly.

I'd really like to send a spear through the both of you, you little weasel, she thought, but did not let it show.

"I acknowledge you as his ambassador. So long as you and yours don't break my peace, you are safe." She allowed herself a chilly smile. "And if you do break it, I will kill you." Then she leaned forward a little. "All right, my lord of Gervais, what is your message?"

"The Lord Protector wants his daughter back, of course," Liu said. "He sent me because you didn't answer your mail. And he wants me to check on her."

"Returning her is going to take more than a request," Juniper said dryly. The girl's face was white and strained.

"The Lord Protector protests at your breaking the laws of war, and the truce agreed in Change Year Four," Liu went on doggedly.

He ignored the snicker of laughter from the audience, and Havel 's audible snort. So did Juniper.

"I've protested border violations by Protectorate nobles and border commanders rather frequently," she said, and paused for a second to let Not least by you, Eddie Liu, Marchwarden and Baron Gervais come through without the need for words. "But that's ground we've covered before."

To her surprise, Liu nodded. "Yeah, Lady Juniper, the Protector thought you might see it that way. He also wants me to check that Princess Mathilda's all right-that you're treating her right-and to bring some of her stuff. If you're not treating her right, he wants me to warn you that he threatens war."

"He threatens war every time he notices we're still breathing and not taking orders from him," Juniper said. "But despite that, we're still breathing-and still free."

Liu's hand clenched on an absent sword hilt, which was an indication of how long it had been since the Change in itself. Juniper held up a hand to silence the baying laughter of her people, and then indicated Mathilda with it.

"You can see the girl's in good health-we don't harm children. As for how she's treated, she's sleeping in the same room as me and my son, eating at the same table, and not doing anything my son doesn't."

Liu's lips thi

He ducked his head. "I'd like to talk to the princess myself," he said. "And I've brought some of her things-her favorite horse, some clothes, her cat, and a lady-in-waiting. The Protector won't begin serious negotiations unless you allow her to have her belongings."

Juniper's eyebrows went up, as Mathilda gave a little bounce of glee.

I wonder if that's for the horse, the cat, or the na

If only his word were good, we might get a nonaggression treaty useful as something besides toilet paper out of this. Unfortunately, his word isn't good the minute you're not holding something over his head. I don't know what we're going to do with Mathilda, really:

"That at least seems reasonable, Lord Gervais," she said cautiously. "Let's arrange it."

"Hi, kid," the Marchwarden said. "You OK, Princess?"

Mathilda smiled broadly and hugged him. "Sure, Eddie," she replied. "I'm fine-but I miss Mom and Dad."

"Yeah, they miss you too," the blue-eyed man with the Asian face said. "Your goddamn cat missed you plenty, going by the way he's been yelling his head off all the way here."

Odd, Juniper thought, watching with her arms crossed on her chest; she and Astrid were alone with Liu and Arminger's heir in an office room, bare now save for a table and chair. Astrid stood in a corner, with her long single-edged sword drawn, the point resting at her feet, her strange silver-streaked eyes chilly in their focus on Liu.

Juniper wouldn't have wanted to be the object of that gaze; you could forget what else Astrid was, if you thought only of her eccentricities or her loopy charm. It was wise to remember what happened when she used that sword. Movement like moonlight flickering on water as it tumbled over rapids, a beautiful smiling image of inescapable death.

All the more terrifying to see, because you know what she's seeing is ancient glories and heroes out of song and story. Even when shrieking ruin kicked its heels and loosened its bowels in a last rattle at her feet.