Andre Norton - The Duke's Ballad

Her returned grin was half rueful. “I know. Too many know Hadrann’s honor. He’d never take a kinswoman as a lover, nor would his father countenance his marriage to a woman who is close kin and penniless. Until this matter is resolved we shall have to be content with words and the touch of hands. Yet I could not let him go without so much as I could give.”

Her eyes were wide. “He loves me, Kee. I knew it when he took my hand. He feared for me if this siege goes awry.”

Keelan snorted. “For Gunnora’s sake, girl. I’ve known he cared for you for months, even if he didn’t. And if the siege breaks Kars, I’ll take care of you. I’ll have you safe into our cellars if I must drag you there. Now, stop fluttering and get ready. We want to be away to our house quickly just in case Shastro turns up asking why Rann called on me and why you’re here alone with one who isn’t kin and no woman to company you.”

They rode quietly along dark streets. Their three guards flanked them looking menacingly into not always empty shadows. Kars alleys after dark had oft been dangerous. With the siege and the growing shortness of food and money to buy it, the nightlife had become lethal to many. Few would risk three guards and a noble who rode with a sword at the ready, but soon they would. Desperation was a stink in the air that all who rode in this small group could recognize.

Hadrann rejoined his friends at the third hour after midnight. He had nothing to report save that Franzo had received him with friendship then gone aside with his captains to read the letter. Some time later Franzo had returned with a letter for Hadrann to take to the duke. It had seemed wiser to return directly to Shastro with it. The mood of Franzo and his men had seemed to be one of cautious optimism.

In other words, as Keelan summed it up, “Franzo’s nibbling the bait, but our duke will have to offer something more than a scent on a hook to get a bite.”

“Shastro is playing his cards against both sides,” Hadrann said soberly. “I was delayed on my return. Soldiers are sweeping the low quarter, and I’m sure I caught a glimpse of Kirion with them.”

Aisling shuddered. “Gunnora preserve those they take. When Kirion starts his next power-working I’ll scry to see what he and Shastro are planning.”

“And for now, let us to our beds,” her brother added. “Has anyone seen Wind Dancer?”

Aisling smiled. “He’s hunting. There are fat field mice in the grass, and he says he must do his share to save our supplies. The truth is he likes field mice.” She looked worried. “But he says that a servant tried to catch him in the palace yesterday. Shastro has forbidden the cook to give scraps or leftovers to them. He says that he must pay for what he eats, and they shall do likewise. He’s ignoring that they haven’t the coin to eat more than once a day now that prices are so high.”

Hadrann nodded. “So they’ll catch and eat anything they can. Cat is acceptable now. Soon it will be rats, and finally their own dead. By the time that happens the city may rise against Shastro, more quickly if they hear what the clan may be offering. I caught a few words. Aisling was right. They’d originally intended to halt the siege if they were given the duke and his advisor. Let that news be known about the city and Shastro may be sitting in a frying pan on a fire. Stay where he is and fry slow. Leap and burn faster. And the people of Kars will be adding fuel.”

In that he was correct. Franzo and his captains had considered the letter. Their reply had suggested that Kirion be sent as an envoy to prove the duke’s good faith. The army would be responsible for taking and holding the sorcerer once he arrived.

Kirion had rejected any idea of being an envoy when the subject was broached. The duke wrote back to report failure. Franzo thought the problem understandable and offered another idea. Open the gates and allow the army to enter, solely to capture their quarry.

This time it was Shastro who rejected the plan. He wasn’t opening any gates to allow any armies to stream in, for whatever purpose they had in mind initially. Purposes changed. They weren’t going to change in his direction. Within Kars food was scarce now at merchant level. The poorest folk were desperate. Hadrann moved between their rented house and the Aranskeep suite at the palace, but Aisling and Keelan had chosen two days earlier to move permanently to the estate. They still returned regularly to dine with Shastro and to be seen at court in the evenings, but now they always slept behind their own walls.

No one bar a few servants realized that as yet; all three of them had left clothing and some personal possessions in the suite. But both men felt it would be safer for her if Aisling was out the palace, and where she went, Wind Dancer went too.

In the dungeons Kirion held scores of those with the merest trace of the Old Blood. He was working, or so he believed, a spell that would bring Shastro wholly under his sway. With the duke obeying his every word, Kirion would have him confess to crimes, absolve his advisor, and then commit suicide in expiation before the people. The Coast Clan Army would accept that and leave quietly.

Then Kirion could choose another suitable man and begin the long careful work of raising him to be the new duke of Kars. It was all a nuisance, but these things happened. He soothed his anger at events by continuing to send sweet dreams to Varnar. His servant was so amusing. The fool really believed his dreams of a small happy family waiting for him somewhere. What pleasure it would be to reveal the truth when the time came.

Hadrann rode back and forth between their rented estate, the duke’s palace, and Franzo’s army. Summer had been and gone, and the fall was almost over. Soon it would be the full chill of winter, and if times had been hard for the poor before, they would be thrice as hard once the cold closed in.

Originally the anger of the people had been directed against the army that besieged them. Gradually that had changed. Now it was the duke’s men they hated with their gaze as the soldiers clattered by. Kirion had demanded and been given a second sweep of the low quarter. He’d returned with few and with several dead soldiers. The human rats of the low quarter, backs to the wall, had fought. Shastro refused to order a third sweep.

On their rented estate Aisling encouraged the geese to sleep along the bottom of the wall furthest from the house. There too she had placed wards with care. They were shielded from Kirion’s observation, which took more power. Yet it was essential he not be able to find traces of her gift. The working had been done very slowly, built up layer by layer as she recovered her strength each morning.

Her work was not done with the brute powers Kirion used to smash home like flung stones but with delicate interweaving that was added little by little. The wards would warn, waking any of the three if intruders tried to enter. They proved their worth the night of the first food riot, when true winter came to the low quarter.

It began when a merchant ran out of grain. At least, that was what he said, but a servant talked of how his master had decided to sell no more of what was still held within his storehouses.

The merchant had come to an understanding that gold could not be eaten. He’d keep the remaining grain for himself and his family. But he was the only one whose storehouse had stood on the edge of the low quarter. Kars guard drove back any from that area if they tried to reach farther warehouses.

To this one place then they had come with their pitiful coins. They had purchased by handfuls rather than by the basket or bushel, but it had been enough. Now that chance was gone. The grain was there but not for them. A woman hammered on the door. Her man had been taken in one of Kirion’s sweeps. He’d never returned. She’d sold herself over and over to the Kars guard to obtain a few coppers. Her children wept with hunger. And a woman from the low quarter does not love her children the less.