Andre Norton - Horn Crown

For the flock and the herd, their numbers being small, we set up pole shelters. As yet we did not know how severe the ice months might be in this new land. Mean-while, the building being over, those of us who had hunters’ skills went out daily to bring in what we could of meat to be smoked over fires carefully tended for that purpose. There were fish to be taken, too, and enough were netted to fill several barrels.

In that time of steady labor we saw no others except those of our own clan. I had half expected the Sword Brothers to return. Yet none came, nor did any of Tugness’s people make the journey across ridges to see how we might fare. Still, each time I patrolled in the heights -- as Garn still continued to have us do -- I would pause by the Moon Shrine and search for some sign that Gathea had been there.

The blossoms of spring were long since gone, and the trees about that pavement grew leaves strange to me. These were of a darker green than usual and very, very glossy; also they were vined with a color which showed as blue in the full sunlight as the symbols left by the long-vanished builders.

Twice I surprised Iynne there, gazing into the shrine as if she sought something. Each time she appeared startled by my coming. At the first such meeting she begged me not to speak of her seeking this place. It was wrong but I obeyed her wishes, not because Garn’s daughter was any I might look upon as heart-lady, for we were too close kin and had been more as brother-sister for most of our lives.

Still, her secret visits to this place bothered me. Firstly Iynne was not such as went adventuring. By nature she had always been a shy and timid girl, one who found quiet pleasure in women’s tasks within the keep. She was very clever with her needle, and near as good as old Fastafsa herself at brewing and baking, the ordering of a household.

I knew that Garn had sworn her hand to the second son of Lord Farkon. An excellent match, one which would bring Garn and all the kin a strong backing. Though as yet the time for Flame and Cup had not been set. We of the kin did not wed by choice, rather to further the good of our House and it was much a matter of fortune how matters went after we had come to the marriage bed.

The field people were freer, though still there was sometimes hurt and suffering because one sire or another would arrange a union to make sure that there was some small advantage for both households. Once or twice I had seen Iynne at the handfasting of some field girl, watching intently the smiling face of the bride. Did she ever think of the long journey down coast which would come in due time after which she might not ever see again this dale which her father governed?

We did not talk of such things; it was against custom, but I believed that Iynne’s sweet face and quiet, competent ways must earn her a favored place in any keep to which she would go. I had seen Lord Farkon’s son—a tall young man, comely enough, having both his father’s favor and his brother’s liking, an unusual combination among our people—so I believed she should be one of the fortunate ones in the end.

Why she now broke with all the rules of our people to steal away secretly to this place she did not tell me, though I asked. All she would reply was that she had to. Then she was confused and near weeping so I did not push her further, though I warned her against danger and tried to make her promise that she would not venture so again.

Each time she did so, swearing so vehemently that I believed her. Still I would find her there crouched at the edge of the pavement as though she were at the door of a chamber she would enter but had not yet the courage to attempt. The second time I told her that I could no longer believe her promise, that I would speak to Fastafsa to make sure that she was warded within the dale and could not slip away without the knowledge of the women. That day she cried, slowly and pitifully, as one who is bereft of a treasure for which there is no substitute. She did obey me, but so drearly that I felt a brutal overlord, though what I had done was to protect her.

The bite of fall was in the air soon after we completed the keep. Together kin and clan labored as one to hurry the harvest. Our seed had done well in this virgin soil. Stigg beamed at an ingathering which was more than he had hoped, as he said again and again—already making plans for the breaking of new fields in the next planting season.

Hewlin, during a hunting expedition at the far western end of the dale, came upon, at about the same time, a third sign that this land had once had other lords and people. For he followed the thread of our stream between those high cliffs, to discover a second and wider stretch of open land. There he had found trees heavy with fruit— what the birds and a type of wild boar had not already harvested. There was no mistaking that these had been planted, for they stood in order, with here and there a gap where one had died, leaving only a worm-eaten stump.

We went in a party to harvest what was left of that crop: Fastafsa and her women, Everad, I, and three of the household armsmen. Iynne did not choose to join us, saying that she did not feel well. Fastafsa left her bedded in one of the kin rooms of the keep.

We made a two-day journey of it since the passage up the cliff-walled stream was not too easy. In spring, if the waters arose as they must do, this way would be totally closed, I believed, noticing the high marking of past floods on the walls.

Once there we worked steadily. The armsmen ever on guard, the rest carrying and emptying baskets while Everad and I made short explorations into this second dale, seeing land which held excellent promise for our own future, advantages which would come if we could persuade Garn to expand our holding in this direction.

Save for that orchard of the past we found no other sigh of the Old Ones, which was reassuring. Neither were there any birds here to raise grim warning. By the morning of the third day we were up early, ready to return down-stream, each taking a hand with the loaded hampers, so that there were always two men free with sword and crossbow. It would seem that in us there was always a deep uneasiness, no matter how fair or pleasant or open this country—as if we dwelt on the border of some enemy land. I found myself wondering why this was so. Except for the venture of the birds—and those were long gone— we had come across nothing threatening here. Yet we went as if we ever expected a surprise attack.

We returned to trouble, as if that which we had unconsciously feared had at last gathered force enough to strike full and hard. Hewlin came spurring his mount straight for us, well armored and in full war gear. At the sight, we men drew together, the women huddled behind us, suddenly silent where moments before there had been light laughter and singing.

The marshal of Garn’s force drew rein, his sharp eyes flickering over us as if he sought one who was not there.

“The Lady Iynne,” he pulled up before Everad, “she has not been with you?”

“No—but she was ill—she said—Fastafsa!” Everad turned his head to the house mistress who now pushed forward, her eyes wide, her face pale beneath the usual ruddy color.

“My lady—what do you say of her?” She elbowed past Everad, spoke to Hewlin with force and fierceness. “She was in the keep—I gave her a sleep draught before I went. With Trudas to sit near and see to her. What have you done with her?”

“She is gone. She told the maid that she felt better, asked her to get her a wallet of food and said that they would both take after you. When the girl returned—our lady was gone!”

At that moment my own guilt stung me. I could think of one place where Iynne might have gone. But if she had vanished just after we had left, then she must have been lost for a night and a day! I had only one duty and that was now to tell what I knew and take the consequences.