CHAPTER FOUR
Now Romilly had a closer look at the encampment of Carolin’s men, the silver and blue fir-tree banner of the Hasturs King above the central tent which, Romilly imagined, must be either the king’s personal quarters or the headquarters of his staff. They rode toward the encampment, past orderly stable-lines, a cookhouse where army cooks were boiling something that smelled savory, and a field roped off, where a Swordswoman Romilly knew only slightly was giving a group of unshaven recruits a lesson in unarmed combat; some of them looked cross and disgruntled and Romilly suspected that they did not like being schooled by a woman; others, rubbing bumps and bruises where she had tossed them handily on the ground, were watching with serious attention.
A guard was posted near the central part of the camp, and he challenged them. Jandria gave him a formal salute.
“Swordswoman Jandria and Apprentice Romilly,” she said, “and I seek the Lord Orain, who has sent for me.”
Romilly tried to make herself small, supposing that the guard would say something sneering or discourteous, but he merely returned her salute and called a messenger, a boy about Romilly’s age, to request Lord Orain’s attention.
She would have recognized the tall, gaunt figure, the lean hatchet-jaw, anywhere; but now he was dressed in the elegant Hastur colors and wore a jewelled pendant and a fine sword, and Romilly knew that if she had met him first like this, she would have been too much in awe of him to speak. He bowed formally to the women, and his voice was the schooled accent of a nobleman, with no trace of the rough-country dialect.
“Mastra’in, it is courteous of you to come so quickly at my summons,” he said, and Jandria replied, just as formally, that it was her pleasure and duty to serve the king’s presence.
A little less formally, Orain went on “I remembered that Romilly was schooled in the training, not only of hawks but of sentry-birds. We have a laranzu come with us from Tramontane, but he has had no experience with sentry-birds, and these are known to you, damisela. Will it please you to introduce the skills of handling them to our laranzu?”
“I’d be glad to do it, Lord Orain,” she said, then burst out, “but only if you stop calling me damisela in that tone!”
A ragged flush spread over Orain’s long face. He did not meet her eyes. “I am sorry – Romilly. Will you come this way?”
She trailed Jandria and Orain, who walked arm in arm. Jandria asked, “How’s Himself, then?”
Orain shrugged. “All the better for the news you sent ahead, love. But did you see Lyondri face to face?”
Romilly saw the negative motion of the older woman’s head. “At the last I was too cowardly; I sent Romilly in my place. If I had met him then-” she broke off. “I do not know if you saw those villages last year, along the old North road. Still blighted, all of them . . .” she shuddered; even at this distance, Romilly could see. “I am glad I am an honest Swordswoman, not a leronis! If I had had to have a part in the blighting of the good land, I know not how I could ever again have raised my eyes to the clean day!”
Was this, Romilly wondered, the reason why The MacAran had quarreled with the Towers, why Ruyven had had to run away, and he had driven the leronis from his home without giving her leave to test Romilly and Mallina for laran! Laran warfare, even the little she had seen of it, was terrifying.
Orain said soberly, “Carolin has said he will not fight that kind of war unless it is used against him. But if Rakhal has laranzu’in to bring against his armies, then he must do what he must; you know that as well as I, Janni.” He sighed. “You had better come and tell him what you learned in Hali, though the news will make him sorrowful. As for Romilly-” he turned and considered her for a moment, “The bird-handlers’ quarters are yonder,” he said, pointing. “The bird-master and his apprentice have that tent there, and no doubt you will find them both around behind it. This way, Janni.”