Fortress of Eagles

In short a flood of people had gone in and out the gates that second day, and now more found need to go in and out, the weather holding passable and people growing anxious about last-moment winter supplies, so Uwen said. To Tristen’s notice the gray space stayed but slightly troubled, master Emuin was camped in utter discomfort and utter lack of news at Maudbrook—the farrier’s wagon had broken down utterly, and blocked the ford. Yes, Emuin had heard a rider pass in the night; and yes, had seen the lord viceroy and had provided the stranded man a horse and several of his guards, how not? And what had set the man in such a plight and in such haste?

There Tristen found himself reticent. The gray space still felt uneasy, and the servants whispered of cold spots in the library and on the East Court stairs, for which the Quinalt father provided charms and against which the Bryalt father performed a rite and ordered candles lit. It pleased the servants, and might have done some good; but justice still went begging, and satisfaction, Tristen thought, would come more slowly.

The ashes of Mauryl’s letters yielded very little to his study… nothing thus far but requests for flour and candles, and a warning of flood in some long-ago spring. He could hear Mauryl’s voice in the writing; he ran fingers over the charred paper and remembered Mauryl at his writing, while the wind of a different year pried and wailed at the windows.

The snow still no more than outlined the stonework and the roof tiles, and made a white haze between the town and the orchards. The ba

Snow did not prevent the town dignitaries and the lords, however, coming to the Zeide, wrapped up in furs still with snow clinging to them. The business of the town was simple, the matter of markets and taxes. Meanwhile he sought an accounting from the armory, which was well prepared; and wished he had the Amefin records which were returning with Emuin.

More, he wished to send men into districts, particularly those bordering Elwynor, in case any villages should be harboring Elwynim, either fugitives or Tasmôrden’s men. But sending Dragon or Guelen Guard into districts as uneasy as Henas’amef had become under Parsynan’s rule begged trouble; and that left him only the resource of his lords and theirmessengers, the lord of Amefel having otherwise been stripped of personal forces at Heryn’s fall.

So the Amefin lords came, and immediately presented their several matters regarding lands and winter court. Tristen held informal audience with several of them in the evening.

“Join me at supper,” he said, with thoughts of the gatherings Cefwyn had held in that hall, memories of a hall noisy and sometimes argumentative, but a time, too, at which men might prove more easily swayed in judgment. The great hall was larger than their gathering needed by far; but the servants had lit a fire and arranged a blaze of candles; and Cook provided her famous pies and sausages and good cheese from the market, acquired at the last moment and when the numbers to feed suddenly increased. (I had the lasses taste everything, Cook had assured Lusin, and they hain’t a one come to grief yet.)

Cuthan was one of the three who came to supper, and Drumman and Azant, each foremost in the several factions that existed among the earls. Drumman and Azant spoke for their country interests, and begged understanding on the taxes, which they feared would be heavy on account of the war; and which the recent counting had given them to fear would be the case.

“His Majesty’s men have been going about looking at every haystack,” as Azant said, “and the land’s taxed poor already, Your Grace.”

“Arm your young men for the spring,” Tristen said to them. “By any means you can, see them ready. I’ve not had the accountings yet, but I know what His Majesty intends, which is the defense of the southern bridges. And I must count on you to send out to the villages and advise them.”

“Your Grace says we will not see war in Amefel,” Azant objected.

“Not by His Majesty’s intent, or mine. But to be under arms and at the bridgeheads will assure we see less. If his plans for Amefel go awry, Tasmôrden may find his men having less heart for war against us orthe northern provinces. But we ca

“My district will do so,” the earl said. “But we are suffering already in His Majesty’s wars.”

Crissand had not come to their small festivity and it had not seemed right to ask him. The house of Meiden was mourning its dead, so Uwen said; and there were many to bury, not alone in the town, but out in the villages. Those sad carts had gained permission to pass the gates, too, and there would be mourning out across the sweep of Meiden land, once the terrible news reached villages that had lost half their young men.

“We also have Meiden’s burden to carry through the winter,” he said, for he had had Uwen’s report, and Anwyll’s, regarding the extent of Meiden’s plight and how the muster in the spring would affect them and other villages. “Earl Crissand is sending supplies for the villages that have suffered, to see them through the winter, but we should all stand ready to send supplies. And oxen.”

(“Which where a village has lost so many men, ain’t so bad at the first o’ winter, wi’ the harvest all in,” Uwen had said in reporting it, “but there’s chores all winter wi’ livestock, that’s hard, an’ spring wi’ the mud an’ th’ plowin’… there’s brutal work. Oxen is the best help, oxen an’ a good plow, an’ all the oxen an’ carts goin’ for the war, that’s hard on them villages, where th’ widows an’ orphans is settin’ in a crop.”)

“On that account I’ve determined we’ll move supplies this winter, then,” he said. “Fortify the river margin and give Tasmôrden reason for concern. We shall own the bridges, and have supplies we need not move in the spring on muddy roads, if we move now.”

“A hard winter for men under canvas, hard for men and beast.” So Azant objected.

“But the oxen will have done their work, and be home for plowing,” Tristen said. “Will they not, sirs? And our supplies will be there waiting for us, and a camp already made. That means our army will move with far greater speed; and our mounted troops can be there in far shorter time to answer any massing of Elwynim forces.”

“Supplies that will lure Tasmôrden, if nothing else, my lord,” Cuthan said. “We may draw war to us, and lose everything.”

“The bridges are undecked, are they not? And by us. Wehave the timbers. They ca

“We have never mustered in the winter,” Azant said.

He searched his recollection, whether that was true, and thought it was not, but that such a muster of Amefel might have been very long ago. “Nevertheless,” he said, not thinking of the vast movement of armies, and snow, and dark shapes confronting them. There were sober faces at the table with him.

“To have the supply made,” Azant said. “There’s much relief to the villages in that, but bitter cold, and hard duty…”

“What would we have all winter?” Tristen said. “Who will guard those bridges, else? Do we plan to sit in Henas’amef and trust Tasmôrden’s men are not more hardy and more brave? What shall we deserve, sirs, if we leave the bridges unguarded, and if you were in Tasmôrden’s place, what would you do?”

There was silence. Azant shifted a glance to Anwyll, conspicuous now in Marhanen scarlet: the Dragon Guard had assumed its own colors and emblem, and taken off the black Amefin Eagle. The Eagle ba