Andre Norton - The Duke's Ballad

Aisling nodded. “But if we had something they wanted,” she said slowly. “If before they crack the walls we could offer reparations? You said Franzo isn’t a cruel man? If Kars showed it had risen against those who’d caused all this…” Her voice trailed off as they thought.

“We don’t want to go up against Kirion directly,” Hadrann said at last, “but if Shastro did, one or the other of them would lose. We might be able to deal with the other then. Franzo would accept that the two who’d caused his grief and all the clan deaths had been punished.”

“Which brings us right back to where we were when we decided to stay,” Aisling said in exasperation. “I must see both are dead and beyond creating further evil. The only things we’ve achieved in all this time are that we’re trusted by Shastro and haven’t yet been unmasked by Kirion.” She departed slamming the door in a way that showed the siege was shortening her temper as well.

Keelan looked after her in surprise. “That isn’t like Aisling.”

Hadrann shook his head. “Kee, what happens to cities when a siege works? When the besiegers break in? Maybe if their leader has declared the cityfolk as wolfsheads?”

Keelan recalled tales. “They burn buildings, steal everything portable, murder the people, even children.”

“And what happens to the rich, more especially to the noblewomen?”

Keelan went slowly white remembering his grandmother’s tale of her own family. “Dear lady. Why did we let her stay?” His eyes turned to the wall as his face slackened in relief. “The cellars. She’d be safe down there with Wind Dancer. This place won’t burn. There’s water, food, bedding. She could be safe down there for months until Franzo gets his men under control again. We can say that. She’ll feel better then, won’t she?” Hadrann said nothing. “What is it?”

“Kee, that land where she was, she rode as a soldier a few times, didn’t she?” Keelan nodded mutely. “She’s always known what she risked. She isn’t stupid. She knows about the cellars; she was the one who found them. But she’s made friends, Kee. And she knows what will happen to them if Franzo’s men break in. But she knows too that we can’t risk bringing half the court here to hide.”

Keelan wrinkled his brow. “We could hide a lot of women and children.”

“For how long? The army could be occupying the city for months if they broke in. You can’t hide and feed dozens of people. We don’t have that many supplies, and people will be people, Kee. Some woman would decide she wanted her husband. She’d sneak out and if she was caught she’d talk fast enough with what they’d do. Or some child would make a game of getting out and be seen.” He sighed heavily.

“Aisling’s thought about all of that. We talked about it while you were at Geavon’s keep. Our removal of your brother and the duke is more important. With them in power the whole of Karsten will be at war with Estcarp again in less than a handful of years. Set that against a few hundred dying here in Kars, and there’s no con-test. She knows that.” He looked at his friend. “You and I know it too. But we don’t think about it. Aisling does. She sees what will happen to those she likes in the court. She feels helpless, and it makes her angry.”

“I see. I hadn’t thought about any of that. Listen, Rann. She needs to feel she’s doing something. Let’s ask her if we can spy on Shastro without Kirion knowing. Even if we can just eavesdrop it will make Aisling feel she’s making a move toward our goal.”

Hadrann brightened. “Not bad. Let’s find her.”

They discovered her sitting in the palace suite window seat with Wind Dancer sprawled half across her lap. She was looking out of the window at the land as it sloped to where the army lay encamped. She glanced up as they entered and spoke directly to Hadrann.

“You said Franzo isn’t a cruel man. What would he do if women and children fled the city now. Before his men become too angry and too hard to hold back?”

Hadrann stood in silence. At last he answered. “I think he’d let them go unharmed. He’d question them, find out all he could about the city’s condition. Get some idea of how long they may hold out. But he’s not cruel, and he’s smart as far as a siege and soldiers are concerned. Men with those they love to protect will fight like madmen. Men with those they love safely away are more likely to listen to an offer, and a man who shows himself honorable will be heard if he offers terms.”

“Then we could get some of the court women and children away.”

“If they’ll go. Talk to old Lady Varra. Her knowledge isn’t restricted to gossip; she also knows people. If it were me I’d talk her into leading the escape if she’d agree.” He grinned briefly. “Even Franzo would listen to her. She’s a wicked-tongued old battle-ax, but she has a good heart and a lot of sense. The women would follow her, where as they’d hesitate to go with anyone else.”

From his sprawl on the seat Wind Dancer uttered a low chirrup. Aisling caressed his ears. “And what have you in mind, my furred one?”

The picture came clearly. Wind Dancer was being let down in his basket. The window on the far corner of the suite was set into the outer city wall, the palace occupying one corner of that wall. Aisling recognized the scene. It was the time of the previous brief siege, when Wind Dancer had been their spy. She watched his sending as he scouted the camp, was fed and indulged by Franzo’s cooks, and amused the men with his games as he listened to their plans and talk.

Then his picture changed. Again Wind Dancer was being let down the wall, but this time it was summer in the city. He jumped lightly from the basket with a sealed note tied to his collar. Wind Dancer’s pictures stopped abruptly. He’d made his contribution; now he wanted his ears stroked some more. Aisling obliged as her face lit. She began to speak quickly, and across the room two other faces became animated with hope.

The arrangements took time, but days not weeks. The old battle-ax, as Hadrann had named her, saw the sense and the advantages of their plan. She counseled them to say nothing to the duke. She’d see to it that the others kept their mouths shut. Shastro might use the idea to attack Franzo. Let him do that later, not at a time that would endanger women and children. They could admit what they’d done once their refugees were safely away.

Two days later a cat basket was lowered slowly from a window high up over the city’s outer wall, a section of which was formed by a portion of Shastro’s sprawling palace. It was in that section the Aranskeep suite lay. As far as anyone but the servants knew, Hadrann, Keelan, and “cousin Murna” were still spending much of their time in the suite. It was a convenient ruse, allowing them to use a single window that looked down from the city wall.

Wind Dancer’s basket settled with a soft thump, and the big cat leaped lightly out. His collar bore a letter, sealed carefully, addressed in large writing to “The Most Noble, the Honorable Franzo, Lord Commander of the Army of the Coastal Clans.” Inside it was a frank plea from Hadrann. He reminded Franzo that he was known to him, mentioned briefly that the duke might well hold out until the last, in which case the city would be ravaged by soldiers driven mad by the waiting and the deaths of comrades.

He said that fearing such, Hadrann had persuaded women and children of the court to flee the city, to take refuge with friends and family who had keeps close enough to be reached. Food was growing short in the city, and soon riots would begin in the low quarter. He begged Franzo to treat these innocents with kindness, to allow them safe passage and an escort if Franzo could spare the soldiers. This he asked in the name of a brief but honest friendship.