Harry Turtledove - Wisdom of the Fox

No sooner had the drawbridge thumped into place than Gerin walked across it. The quicker he found out what madness Rihwin was perpetrating now, the quicker he could start figuring out how to deal with it—if it could be dealt with. He was getting tired of having to clean up Rihwin's messes, especially when they were as exquisitely mistimed as this one.

Seeing Gerin, Rihwin waved. "Hail, lord prince," he called. "The business of going to Aragis' holding just got easier."

Gerin waited till Rihwin got close enough so he wouldn't have to scream, then demanded, "What on earth are you talking about, you—jackanapes? How can you be gone two days and come back claiming success? And who are these ruffians you've brought along with you?"

He hadn't had much hope of cowing the irrepressible Rihwin, but he hadn't expected him to break out in guffaws, either. "Your pardon, lord prince," Rihwin said when he could speak, though he didn't sound a bit sorry. He went on, "Allow me to present acquaintances made on the Elabon Way: Fabors Fabur's son and Marlanz Raw-Meat, envoys sent by the Grand Duke Aragis the Archer to discuss terms of alliance with you."

"Lord prince," two of the strangers said together. After they bowed, one of them added, in a voice almost as deep as Van's, "I'm Marlanz." He was young, broad-shouldered, and burly, with the look of a man for whom fighting was a favorite sport. Fabors was older and, Gerin guessed, likely to be smarter (although sometimes men who looked like nothing but bluff warriors were a lot smarter than they seemed).

"Well," Gerin said. That was better than standing there with his mouth open, but not much. He tried again, but only, "Well," emerged once more. On a third effort, he managed coherent speech: "Well, lords, I would be lying if I said I wasn't glad to see you. You are most welcome. Come into my keep, you and all your comrades. Drink of my ale; eat of my meat; you shall be my guest-friends here."

"Lord prince, you are gracious," Fabors Fabur's son said. Marlanz Raw-Meat nodded vigorously. Fabors went on, "Should you ride south, know that my keep shall be as your own for as long as you care to use it."

"And mine," Marlanz agreed.

"Come, come," Gerin said, and stood aside so the chariots—both those that had started out with Rihwin and those that had come north with Aragis' vassals—could cross over the drawbridge and into Castle Fox.

Stable boys hurried out to take charge of the horses and chariots. They gaped, big-eyed, at the newcomers. Gerin's warriors crowded round him, lest the men who'd accompanied Marlanz and Fabors had treachery in mind.

Marlanz stared at Van. "I've heard tales of you, sir," he said, "and, knowing how taletellers lie, thought to measure myself against you. I see I'm liable to have put myself too high."

"If you can fight as well as you talk, sir, you'll do well enough for yourself, I expect," Van answered. Marlanz bowed. Van bowed back. Gerin was reminded of two big dogs sniffing at each other.

"Come, lords," he said again. As he crossed the threshold into the great hall, he called to the servants: "Ale for my guest-friends. Aye, and carve some steaks from that cow we slew last night, too, and set 'em over the fire."

"Just singe mine, light as you can," Marlanz put in. "I can't abide beef cooked all gray and tough as shoe leather."

The slab of meat the servants slapped down in front of Marlanz on a round of flatbread was so red and juicy that the Fox expected it to bellow in pain when he stuck a knife in it, but he attacked it with every sign of relish. Gerin had no trouble figuring out how he'd come by his ekename.

Selatre had been standing back by the stairway. Gerin waved her forward, patted the bench beside him. Fabors Fabur's son raised an eyebrow. "Have you at last wed again, lord prince?" he asked. "Word of this had not reached the Archer's Nest."

"Good name for a keep," Gerin remarked, unsurprised that Aragis kept close track of what he did—he made it his business to learn all he could of Aragis, too. To answer the question the Archer's man had put, he went on, "Lord Fabors, lord Marlanz, allow me to present you to the lady Selatre, who was Sibyl at Ikos until the earthquake overthrew Biton's shrine there and loosed the monsters long trapped under it."

Marlanz had started to bristle at being introduced to a woman rather than the other way round, but composed himself at once when he learned who Selatre was. "Sibyl," he murmured respectfully, bowing in his seat.

"Sibyl no more," she said. "Simply Selatre . . . and who Selatre is remains in large part to be discovered." Her eyes slid to Gerin. The arrival of the envoys had interrupted part of that discovery.

That arrival had also touched off enough commotion to bring Fand down to find out what was going on. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Selatre beside the Fox; she came over and sat down next to Van. Gerin introduced her to Aragis' vassals as the outlander's companion. Van nodded at that, though he didn't seem quite certain he was pleased. Fabors Fabur's son looked thoughtful, but held his peace—here was more news that had not reached the Archer's Nest.

After the sharing of food and drink had made them his guest-friends, Gerin said to Fabors and Marlanz, "Well, lords, I know why you've come—on the same mission for which I sent Rihwin south. I daresay you'll have discussed it with him as you came here. What conclusions have you reached?"

"Lord prince, our overlord the Grand Duke Aragis sent us north with virtually the same terms for an alliance in mind as you gave to Rihwin the Fox—a fine fellow, I might add," Fabors said. "The Archer favors an equal alliance between himself and you for as long as that remains agreeable to both parties, overall command to depend on whether the fighting is north or south of Ikos."

"There's a nice touch," Gerin said approvingly. "I'd simply assumed we'd share the lead. Well, lords, as you say, I think we'll get along nicely. Since the earthquake, I've heard little from south of Ikos. Tell me how Aragis' lands fare, if you would be so kind."

Marlanz gulped down the ale in his jack before answering, "Imagine wolves in a hard winter, coming out of the woods to kill sheep and shepherds, too. Then imagine that ten times worse, and you'll have some idea of the state we're in. These cursed creatures have more wit than wolves, and they have hands, too, so nothing is safe from them. The serfs are afraid to go out into the fields, but staying huddled in their huts does 'em no good, either. I'm sure you know how that goes, lord prince."

"Only too well," Gerin answered grimly. His vassals in the great hall nodded. The Fox went on, "Have the more clever monsters joined together with any of Aragis' neighbors to make his life even more delightful?"

"No, lord prince," Marlanz and Fabors chorused. Fabors added, "When your vassal the lord Rihwin told us of their dealings with Adiatunnus—may he roast in the hottest hell forever—we both cried out in horror."

"That we did," Marlanz Raw-Meat agreed. "It speaks well of your strength here that you've held off such a dreadful combination where we faced only the monsters, yet Aragis saw the need to send us forth before you put your vassal on the road to look for his aid."

"Don't put too much into it," Gerin said. "It may just mean I'm more stubborn and less trusting of my neighbors than the grand duke."

"Meaning no offense to you, lord prince, I find that hard to picture," Fabors Fabur's son said. Marlanz nodded vigorously.

"I think you may have insulted your own lord rather than me, but have it as you will," Gerin said. "Since matters are as they are, I am going to propose that Aragis first send such chariotry as he can north to aid my forces against Adiatunnus, the monsters, and a few worthless, faithless Elabonians who have joined with them. If he can do that, how soon can he do it, and how many chariots can he spare from his own concerns?"