The Living Sword 3: The Burden of Legacy Read online

  “I see.” Eurik didn’t quite know how to feel about this. The heads looked old. They certainly had been there for at least a year, though there was still some flesh and hair left. But this town’s only neighbors were Mochedan and the undead across the Urumac.

  No, the enemy might have come to them. And Silver Fang has warned me that the Truce only prevents clans and tribes from fighting each other. Individuals are on their own, literally.

  “So how much longer until we get to Urumoy?”

  “We’ll not reach it today. Perhaps the day after tomorrow if we keep a good pace.” She mounted her horse. “Try to keep up.” She set off at a canter.

  Eurik drew on the wind blowing through the stalks and let its chiri quicken his limbs. It only took five steps to catch up to her, another two to pass. “Try to keep up!”

  ***

  Leraine guided Rock up to the hold of Silent Ice, one of her mother’s allies. There was still daylight left, and it should be safe enough to camp out in the open. But here she could get a glimpse of the welcome she could expect back home.

  Silent Ice’s hold consisted of a single longhouse, its steeply sloped roofs sporting several chimneys. It had been built in a curve along the top of the hill that dominated the surrounding fields. Beside it, a barn stood made in a similar fashion with fencing connecting the two with a couple of smaller buildings to form a pen for the animals. The wall that encircled the whole thing was barely high enough to prevent Leraine from looking in if she’d been mounted on her horse.

  She caught Rock staring at the warder heads and elected to ignore it. His reaction had been worse when he saw that lawbreaker back in Linese. He could be remarkably squeamish. The gate stood open, a sign of the peaceful times they lived in, though her approach had been noted, of course.

  Two warriors strode out to meet them, and Leraine quickly spoke to Rock. “Remember, bow deep, don’t speak unless spoken to, and don’t unsheathe Misthell for any reason. Men aren’t allowed to touch a weapon, but outsiders are exempted. To a point.”

  “I remember. You’ve told me this several times now.”

  There was no time to respond to that. The warriors had reached them. Both wore scale armor and casually rested their swordstaffs against their shoulders. “Ho there, who approaches the hold of Silent Ice?”

  The other warrior elbowed her comrade. “Wait, you don’t recognize her?”

  The first warrior took her eyes off them. “Should I?”

  “I’d say so. You do remember the demon slayer came through here a year ago? Then again, as I recall, you were in your cups at the time. I don’t think you remember half the nights that month.”

  Finally getting a good look at their draen, Leraine recalled who they were. Sorrow Heart had indeed been drinking much that night, something about failing to court a man. And the one poking fun at her, now and then, was Mocking River.

  Wait, what did she call me?

  The other warrior swatted at the jokester’s shins with the butt of her weapon, but Mocking River easily sidestepped the halfhearted strike. “Not that drunk. But there are forms to be observed. Silent Ice would have us both stand guard on the field in midwinter if we insult her honored guest.” Sorrow Heart turned back to Leraine and planted her swordstaff’s butt on the ground between her feet.

  “I am,” Leraine hesitated. This would make it real, if it was accepted. If not, the shame would be almost too much to bear. “I am Silver Fang, daughter of Raven Eye, who is daughter of Patient Adder. I ask for a place at your fire and a resting place behind your walls.”

  A grinning Mocking River sprang forward to clasp Leraine on the shoulder and almost dragged her into the hold. “You and your man are welcome! Light and rest will be yours. Now, you’ve got to tell me. How big was the demon? Big as a house? Cloud Dreamer bet me it couldn’t have been bigger than the boulder over in Darkspar Forest.”

  “Oh, oh, I can answer that question!” Misthell rattled in his sheath, drawing the attention of Silent Ice’s warriors.

  I forgot to tell the sword to be quiet.

  “Because I was there, you know. In fact, the demon wouldn’t have been vanquished if not for me. My blade cleaved the demon’s head in twain. Not that Silver Fang didn’t help. Her and, uh, Rock!”

  Mocking River blinked, then her grin returned. “Unless you sprang from your scabbard by yourself and flew at the demon on your own power, I’d say Silver Fang did more than help. But I could be wrong. I didn’t know swords could talk either. So show me, oh sword, how you slew the demon of Glinfell and I’ll listen to your tale of bravery and skill.”

  “Oh, I’ll show you.”

  “No,” Leraine said. “Misthell, you can entertain people during the evening meal.”

  “You’re not the boss of me.”

  “Misthell,” Rock said, “behave. We are guests and there’s no need to boast. What you did was great enough.”

  Silent Ice’s warriors eyed Rock carefully, Sorrow Heart nodding a moment later before returning her attention to Leraine. “Your man’s got a head on his shoulders. And his Thelauk isn’t half-bad. The son of outcasts?”

  Leraine pressed her lips together. Rock was not her man, but men weren’t recognized as independent in the Snake tribe. There were good reasons for that, of course, and they were flexible enough when it came to outsiders. But Rock might be staying with them for a time and in that situation, he’d need someone to be seen as in charge of him.

  “We don’t know, actually,” she said. “His parents died when he was very young. He grew up among the san.”

  “The san?”

  “Plant-men. You might have heard the story of Ash Flint and his sword Grasscutter? The creatures he slew were san, that’s why his sword had that name.”

  “Oh, yeah, I heard the loremistress speak of him,” Mocking River said. “Long time ago. I thought they were all gone though. Like griffons, giants, and Inza.”

  They entered the longhouse, Sorrow Heart bringing up the rear while Mocking River went forward to announce to Silent Ice who had arrived at her hold. She stood up, eyes wide at the sight of Leraine, and barely waited for Mocking River’s voice to fall off before coming forward. Her daughters trailed after her, both of them only a little older than Leraine herself.

  Silent Ice’s hands enveloped her shoulders and she looked deep within Leraine’s eyes before giving a single nod.

  “Silver Fang is welcome in our hold,” one of Silent Ice’s daughters, Rime, said. Both of them had their mother’s light blue eyes, but unlike their mother, no dark spirit had stolen their voices. Silent Ice had to let go of her to gesture, and Rime continued. “We offer you and your man salt and bread.”

  Silver Fang bowed to Silent Ice. The offer was symbolic, but very powerful. You could offer a traveler shelter and warmth, but it didn’t obligate you to them beyond simple safety. Bread and salt, though, was the way to invite a guest, and guests had rights. They also had obligations. Relieved, she saw from the corner of her eye that Rock had bowed as well, a bit deeper than her, too.

  “I am honored.”

  “No, it is we who are honored,” Rime said, her eyes on her mother’s flashing hands. “The tale of your heroism has spread far and wide.”

  Leraine’s jaw slackened. “It has?”

  Silent Ice smiled and nodded. “It has,” her daughter said, this time speaking for herself. “You slew a real demon, Silver Fang. Few have done so since the Rift War and only a handful have faced a greater demon. They’re calling you a new Two Fang!”

  Perhaps Silent Ice caught some of her panic, because she took Leraine by the elbow and gently guided her to the table. And her next questions were of her journey and what she had seen. The small crowd listened silently as she described the Mountain Wall towering above the Woudanesee, and they hissed as she described facing her first elf, but it was at her description of the great city of Linese that they uttered disbelief.

  The food they offere
d was simple fare, a pottage of peas, onions, and barley, enlivened by bits of chicken and thyme. They scooped it up with dark crusted bread while Misthell entertained everybody by regaling them with one story after another.

  Thankfully, not her story. She nodded to Eurik across the room; he must have had a word with the living sword. From among his place with the men, he gave her a shrug. Still, this meal would end, and, judging from the looks she was getting from the women around the table, the story of Silver Fang and the demon would be told.

  I should have gone straight home.

  ***

  White clouds hung scattered across the sky, but neither they nor the wind offered any relief from the burning sun. Eurik felt a drop of sweat roll down his cheek and along his neck. He could try to generate some wind chiri himself, but the relief that breeze could bring wouldn’t offset the effort he’d need to expend to do it in the first place.

  The air was heavy with the scent of cut grain stalks. Yesterday, sheaves still stood in some of the fields they’d passed, but today all he saw were birds picking over the remains. A couple of bowshots away, a group scattered. He didn’t see the snake, but he felt plenty of them slinking around.

  To their left, Lake Bandar stretched out over the horizon. A few boats bobbed up and down on its waves, the people on them pulling in nets while more birds wheeled above. Other boats with billowing sails sailed toward or away from the docks built on the lake shore.

  Not that he could see those docks, just the ends of them jutting into the lake itself. The walls of Urumoy hid them from sight, them and much of the rest of the city. And it should be called a city, though a small one compared to what he’d seen in the Linesan Empire.

  The walls were interesting, both by structure and appearance. He’d felt it before when passing other Mochedan settlements. They were at least four steps wide, but not solid. The dressed stones he could see only formed the skin. The wall was filled with rubble, sand, and wood. The latter hadn’t been placed haphazardly but laid horizontally across the wall on each layer of stonework, connecting the inner and outer wall.

  This method made Mochedan walls not simply strong, but resilient. It would make bringing this wall down a lot harder, not that Eurik had any intention of doing so.

  Eurik didn’t know what the giant multicolored snake undulating along the entire length of the wall was supposed to do. It stood out against the lime-washed surface on which it had been painted. Perhaps it was only meant to impress.

  He felt the activity within, even at this distance, the thrill or murmur in the earth that only several thousand people could produce going through their daily lives. Carts, piled high with straw and bags of grain, filed through the gate. Wooden watchtowers built on top of the wall on either side of the gate overlooked the crowd and he could see armored women standing under their roofs.

  It must be nice up there. In the shade. Away from the heat that has soaked into the earth. Perhaps a hint of a cool breeze.

  Eurik sighed and looked over at Silver Fang, who sat stiffly on her horse, eyes staring through the city, it seemed. “You’re almost home.” She didn’t react. “Silver Fang?” Her saddle creaked; a fly landed on her hand holding the reins.

  He looked around. Nobody was nearby, the sun was up, and the nearest crow was at least three bowshots from them. Still, Eurik spoke as softly as he could. “Leraine.”

  Silver Fang’s head snapped around. Her horse danced away, and she had to spend some time calming her down. “Yes, Rock?”

  “I said, you’re almost home.”

  “Yes. It won’t be long now,” she said, looking once again at the gate of Urumoy.

  “You don’t look as happy as I would if I saw my home again.”

  “Oh, I’m happy.” She didn’t take her eyes off the city. “But we’re about to face my mother. That is not something you should do without being prepared.”

  “How so?”

  Silver Fang blinked and looked at him again. “Ah, it is nothing. Nothing that should concern you. I think. With luck, Mother will have little interest in you. Please, think of your own reason for being here. Even if your mother didn’t live here, then she may very well have learned her art in Urumoy.”

  “Right.” Eurik joined Leraine in staring at the city.

  Chapter 3

  By Accident

  The warder heads of Urumoy were placed atop the gateway, keeping an eye on the easiest way for evil to enter the city. All knew evil spirits didn’t like climbing or crossing large bodies of water. Leraine only gave them a fleeting look, but it was enough to notice one of the heads was much fresher; perhaps a month, maybe longer.

  Before she’d left, Leraine hadn’t imagined any wall could be mightier than the ones of her home. She knew better now, but only those of Linese itself truly surpassed them in every way. They passed through the outer gate and were waved in through the inner gate as she saw the news of her homecoming ripple through the crowd.

  According to Silent Ice, Raven Eye had spread the tale of her battle with the demon far and wide. If she had known this would come from Mayor Rozenbruk’s message, she’d have implored him not to send it.

  Too many people hailed their new hero, though at least none tried to stop her. But they cheered her for a deed that was at least half done by the young man trailing behind her. It felt dishonest to be given sole credit. This hadn’t been the plan.

  Leraine had wanted to be called Silver Fang for avenging Irelith. She would have presented her blade and the fang of Irelith’s killer to her daughters, speak of how she had fought the blooddrinker, and then claim her name. Instead, they hardly seemed to notice Viper wasn’t with her.

  She rode through the main street of Urumoy, dust tickling her nose as she breathed in the city’s familiar scent. Urumoy didn’t have paved roads. The only sewer was a ditch that ran through the middle of the settlement covered in most places by broad, flat stones. The city in the summer was a mélange of grit, sweat, soot, and the faint hint of shit. At least the wind wasn’t coming from the lake or they’d be smelling the tanners as well.

  When did I get so fussy? Leraine shook her head.

  The street curved up to the north, leading to the market triangle and the longhouse of Raven Eye. The majority of the buildings in Urumoy were made mostly from wood; Raven Eye’s was an exception. Some of the other exceptions flanked the triangle. To her right was the House of Lore, to her left the longhouse of Grumbling Storm.

  The market triangle was packed with stalls and tables, while others sold their wares from blankets. She hadn’t realized it would be market day today; that did explain most of the crowds filling the streets.

  But it forced Leraine to slow her pace even as people made a path for her toward the steps leading to her home. Long before she reached them, people started filing out of the longhouse.

  Warriors sworn to her mother led the way in their shining mail, the long blades of their spears glinting in the sun’s light. Loremistress Blue Scale came out after them, the bronze rod of her office held up against her left upper arm.

  Leraine’s eyes widened as the last person walked out at a slow pace, leaning on a simple cane that she hadn’t had when Leraine left. Even when she’d reached the top step and straightened up, her mother still leaned lightly on the cane.

  Reaching the bottom step herself, Leraine dismounted and quickly whispered to Rock. “Keep a hold of Sniff and stay out of my mother’s sight. Without looking like you’re doing that.”

  She took a quick, deep breath before she jogged up the steps. Up close, if she ignored the cane, Mother looked very much the same as a year ago. Some silver streaks in her hair, but her eye was as dark and sharp as ever. Today, she wore an eye patch of dark blue, undecorated. That relieved one concern: Mother wasn’t about to disinherit her.

  With one foot on the step below the top step and the other on the step below that, Leraine bowed. “Mother, I have returned.” Perhaps I should have visited Wh
ite Gale and Flashing Reed first. But she knew that would only have been an option if she’d been able to enter Urumoy without getting recognized.

  “Welcome, Silver Fang.” Leraine felt a small weight slide off her shoulders. Silent Ice’s welcome had told her Mother accepted her new name, but it hadn’t been the same. “We’ve heard you’ve brought great honor to Urumoy by rescuing our allies from the folly of the horse people.”

  “I did what duty required of me.” Truth be told, if her mother hadn’t lost her eye to a spellsword, perhaps she would have been known today as Shadow Weaver. Best to keep her own words simple and hope not to be drawn into too many of Mother’s plans.

  “Words to live by. But you are too modest. And I see you brought guests. Come, boy, let me have a look at you.”

  Leraine’s silver tooth dug into her lower lip. So much for keeping Rock out of it. It had been an idle hope.

  Rock hesitated. Then he flexed his power, erecting a simple waist-high pillar from the ground with a hole in the top that he could use to fasten the reins. Murmurs spread as he walked up the steps.

  Leraine grimaced. Her people didn’t use horse people magic, but they knew what it looked like. What they’d just seen had been neither the power of the spirits nor what spellswords and wizards used. And that would draw interest, even if Raven Eye wasn’t looking him over in front of a quarter of the people of Urumoy.

  “I understand you two assisted my daughter in her heroics.” It sounded benign enough, but she’s spoken loud enough to be heard and the triangle amplified someone who spoke from that spot very well. “You are welcome in Urumoy. I offer you salt and bread.”

  Leraine closed her eyes before the crowd’s reaction reached her ears. What was Mother playing at? Placing this much attention on an armed man, however much an outsider?

  Rock hesitated, then bowed quite deeply. “You honor me.” At least his Thelauk was decent, he’d even used the proper form of “you” when dealing with the head of a settlement of Urumoy’s stature. She might have drilled him on that one. A lot.