Andre Norton - Ciara's Song

This had paid off. He held the land alone for many years, the only lord able to keep his estate free of wolves and human attack. Over the years, those who enjoyed a frontier rallied to him, but they also preferred strong walls between them and danger. Since then garths had risen outside Aiskeep. They were often independent but the trade was useful. Nowadays most of the land about was settled, but with Yvian’s death, the usual peace had been permanently changed. The constant clan squabbling of the past four years had left many men with no trade but banditry. But right now neither child had any thought of that.

With a yelp Trovagh sent his horse racing up the valley, Ciara following hard at his heels. On the side of each saddle bounced a filled bag. They planned a trip that would take them to the valley end. It wouldn’t do to go hungry. They rode beyond the valley, then the horses leaned into the mountain trail. Farther up and well to the northeast there was a small sheltered cup of land. There was a cave there, and a rock basin usually filled with good water. They would eat, rest their mounts, and then hunt.

It was fortunate that they were walking their horses in silence. They approached the cave only to hear voices. Trovagh signaled Ciara to back her mount. Cautiously he joined her further back and dismounted.

“Who do you think that is, Tro?”

“I don’t know. But I know a few other things. They’re trespassing, and they aren’t our people. And before you ask, I was closer. That accent isn’t from here. It’s more to the west over by the coast.”

“Oh. So what do we do, ride back and tell Uncle?”

“Tell him what. That we heard a foreign accent in the mountains?”

Ciara grinned at him. “No, we tell him how many there were, what they looked like, and what they were doing here.”

Trovagh grinned back in relief. Good old Cee. He’d known she’d want to find out about this bunch as much as he did.

“Right. We leave the horses off the trail over there. If we cross the trail and go up the side there,” his finger indicated, “we should be right over the cave. With luck we can hear everything they say. We can even look through the bushes at them if we’re careful.” He had a brief moment of doubt about this. But Cee was nodding.

“It’s sunhigh. If they’re still here it probably means they’re staying the night. We can find out about them, then ride back to tell Uncle. He can come back with Hanion in the morning.”

Trovagh quashed his doubts. This was for Aiskeep, to help protect their people from outlaws. Not that in his heart he believed the voices belonged to wolfsheads. Probably some messengers trying to be unobtrusive at a lord’s orders. For all that he and Ciara were careful. With their mounts safely tucked away in the lawleaf thicket, the two children drifted quietly up the hillside.

Below them the cave echoed voices. A fire burned in the mouth. Trovagh looked down at that with interest. Hanion had told him often how to build a smokeless fire for enemy country. Down below was a perfect example of this. It certainly indicated a wish on the part of those below to remain unnoticed. A sideways glance at Cee showed him that this had not escaped her. They lay forward comfortably and prepared to listen.

A rough voice floated up to them as the speaker emerged from the cave. “ ‘n I say that we go west again. There ain’t nothing in these mountains.”

“There’s as much loot as you’ll ever see, you fool.”

“I seen nothing yet.”

“So shut yer mouth ah’ listen. Down there’s a Keep, see. Only the Keep’s right at the other end of the valley. Take a day for word of us to get there, an’ even then the lord won’t care if too many of his cattle don’t get killed.”

A younger voice cut in. “Cattle? You said there’s gonna be loot ’n women!”

There was the sound of an oath, a blow, and a smothered yelp. “Shut yer mouth when those older’s talking. People down there is just cattle to ’is lordship. That’s what I mean. We hit a couple of the families down this end. It takes another day for the Keep to hear, and by the time they come— if they bother—we’re long gone with whatever we wants. See?”

“So when ’er we go down?”

“Dusk. They’ll all be sitting down to ’er nice meal. All unsuspecting like. With it dusk, no one else’ll see nothing. We kill them all and take what we want. Then maybe another house or two before it’s daylight. If there’s any good-looking females we tie them up until we’re done looting. When we clear out, they come with us. If they can’t keep up, we dump ’em.” He laughed viciously, “Even females don’t chatter with their throats cut.”

The younger voice chimed in describing what he planned to do with any women taken. Trovagh blushed violently, then felt sick. He hadn’t thought of war being like that. If these men found him and Cee… the blood drained abruptly from his face. He was hearing what would happen to her in every word from that filth down in the cave. They’d have no mercy because she was gentle and loving. No mercy that she was only thirteen, and Trovagh had brought her here. He reached out to take her hand in reassurance. He looked at her then and blinked in surprise. Cee looked furious. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her look so angry. He wriggled back pulling her with him. At a safe distance she rounded on him and he understood.

“That’s our people they’re talking about. The nearest houses are Jontar’s and Mashin’s and Anrud’s. The bandits are going to kill them all. We have to stop them.”

Put that way Trovagh agreed. “We won’t have time to get back to the Keep and send help before dark.”

“No,” Cee said shrewdly. “But we could get Jontar’s daughter to take a message on one of the horses.”

Trovagh nodded slowly. It was likely to infuriate his father, but he’d see they’d had no choice. It was the duty of a lord to protect his people. But Ciara could ride for help. Not that he had much faith in her seeing that. He was right.

“I’m a healer,” he was told flatly. “I may be needed.”

The boy shrugged. He’d done his best short of tying her to a horse and running it off down the valley. Knowing her, she’d persuade it to run the other way anyhow.

“We need to know how many of them there are. We don’t want to risk us both getting caught, either. You go back to the horses, mount up, and be ready. If I get caught, it’ll be up to you.”

That made sense to Ciara. She slipped silently down the hillside to where the horses waited patiently. Above the cave Trovagh listened, trying to count voices. There were three he was certain were different. But they couldn’t be planning to attack a whole family with only three men. Many garth families had half a dozen men or more. Jontar’s certainly did. There was Jontar’s father, Jontar, two sons, and three married daughters. There were also an uncle, and a cousin. Some of the women would fight as savagely for their homes and families as any man.

Taking them by surprise over a meal would even the odds somewhat. But it was still likely there were more than the three men he could hear. He listened, then squirmed farther down the slope. If he could look partway into the cave he might see something to help. He did. Near the fire there was a heap of saddles and horse gear. He could count at least a dozen saddles. The conviction came over him that it was time he and Cee departed. Some of those men the gear belonged to must be around. He’d much rather they didn’t find either of them, Cee in particular. He reached the horses without incident.

“Well, did you find out anything?”

“Yes, there’s at least a dozen saddles stacked to one side of the fire. I guess they have the horses along a bit further. Maybe the rest of the men are there with them.”