risk wrath that I was fairly sure would not be forthcoming. These soldiers had their orders, and they would follow them, but they were not zealots. Was it obvious to them that my penance was a sham, a ploy of the duke’s? I shifted carefully, trying to find some measure of comfort without further disturbing Gerrard’s body. And then, my head pillowed on a wadded section of the burlap draperies, and despite the appalling noise, I fell instantly and heavily asleep.
I woke once when the train began to move— to which the cattle objected, as they had objected to everything else— but no one seemed to be paying any attention to me, and if nothing else, I thought with grim, half- dreaming humor, I’d learned my lesson about seeking trouble. I fell asleep again.
I woke the second time because the train stopped with a tremendous jerk. I was thrown forward and then back so violently that I ended up lying on the floor of the baggage car, entangled with Gerrard’s body in an obscene parody of a lover’s embrace, the breath knocked from my body and my head ringing like a full peal of church bells. Around me, the cattle were bawling like outraged virgins, the oxen were bellowing, and the soldiers were cursing with an impressive fluency and variety of expression. I lay still, afraid that if I moved, I would damage the body, and after a few moments, the sergeant interrupted his excoriations of the train, the cattle, and life in general to say, “Ah, strewth, we’d better pick up his lordship. Oddlin— you’ve a talent that way.”
So it had been Oddlin who had helped me the first time. I could not decide if it made me feel better to know that I had a champion, or more like a helpless girl.
It took two of them to lift Gerrard’s body back into the catafalque. I stayed still, listening to the sergeant ordering someone to go up the train and find out what had happened, listening to the cowherds settling the cattle. “Art not hurt, thou great daft mop,” one of them said, exasperation and affection so mingled that they could not be separated, and I remembered Benallery saying to me, long ago, “Just because Gerrard throws himself down a well, doesn’t mean you have to jump after him.” Even then I’d known, although I hadn’t said so, that that was exactly what it did mean.
I felt motion and heat beside me, and recognized Oddlin’s voice when he spoke. “Are you hurt, my lord?”
“No,” I said, being now fairly sure I told the truth. “What happened?”
“We don’t know, my lord, but Lark’s gone to find out. Come on, then.” He lifted me first to my feet and then onto the catafalque; I realized he was larger even than I had thought. Most men were taller than I— and many women, too— but this one seemed a giant, maybe as tall as Angel Vyell, who was over six feet, the largest man I had ever known. I added to my list of things I ought to be grateful for, even if I wasn’t able to be, the fact that Oddlin was inclined to be gentle.
They had made no effort to arrange Gerrard’s body— and why should they? Was not their failed king. Shouldst be grateful, again, that they do not desecrate the body. I thought of bodies I had found after the Usara had finished with them, and could not help shivering a little, imagining those things done to Gerrard.
Hesitantly at first, expecting to be ordered to stop, I straightened Gerrard’s body as best I could. None paid me the least heed; though I knew I did a poor job of it, it gave me some comfort to know that I had tried, and that it was better than nothing. I lay down again, but not to sleep. Not when something had happened that my keepers did not understand. I listened— as I should have been doing from the start— and figured out that there were six of them, counting the absent Lark. They had served in the long, grim, bloody siege of Beneth Castle; this assignment was in the nature of a vacation for them, nursemaiding a dead body, a blind prisoner, and twenty- four cows
I woke once when the train began to move— to which the cattle objected, as they had objected to everything else— but no one seemed to be paying any attention to me, and if nothing else, I thought with grim, half- dreaming humor, I’d learned my lesson about seeking trouble. I fell asleep again.
I woke the second time because the train stopped with a tremendous jerk. I was thrown forward and then back so violently that I ended up lying on the floor of the baggage car, entangled with Gerrard’s body in an obscene parody of a lover’s embrace, the breath knocked from my body and my head ringing like a full peal of church bells. Around me, the cattle were bawling like outraged virgins, the oxen were bellowing, and the soldiers were cursing with an impressive fluency and variety of expression. I lay still, afraid that if I moved, I would damage the body, and after a few moments, the sergeant interrupted his excoriations of the train, the cattle, and life in general to say, “Ah, strewth, we’d better pick up his lordship. Oddlin— you’ve a talent that way.”
So it had been Oddlin who had helped me the first time. I could not decide if it made me feel better to know that I had a champion, or more like a helpless girl.
It took two of them to lift Gerrard’s body back into the catafalque. I stayed still, listening to the sergeant ordering someone to go up the train and find out what had happened, listening to the cowherds settling the cattle. “Art not hurt, thou great daft mop,” one of them said, exasperation and affection so mingled that they could not be separated, and I remembered Benallery saying to me, long ago, “Just because Gerrard throws himself down a well, doesn’t mean you have to jump after him.” Even then I’d known, although I hadn’t said so, that that was exactly what it did mean.
I felt motion and heat beside me, and recognized Oddlin’s voice when he spoke. “Are you hurt, my lord?”
“No,” I said, being now fairly sure I told the truth. “What happened?”
“We don’t know, my lord, but Lark’s gone to find out. Come on, then.” He lifted me first to my feet and then onto the catafalque; I realized he was larger even than I had thought. Most men were taller than I— and many women, too— but this one seemed a giant, maybe as tall as Angel Vyell, who was over six feet, the largest man I had ever known. I added to my list of things I ought to be grateful for, even if I wasn’t able to be, the fact that Oddlin was inclined to be gentle.
They had made no effort to arrange Gerrard’s body— and why should they? Was not their failed king. Shouldst be grateful, again, that they do not desecrate the body. I thought of bodies I had found after the Usara had finished with them, and could not help shivering a little, imagining those things done to Gerrard.
Hesitantly at first, expecting to be ordered to stop, I straightened Gerrard’s body as best I could. None paid me the least heed; though I knew I did a poor job of it, it gave me some comfort to know that I had tried, and that it was better than nothing. I lay down again, but not to sleep. Not when something had happened that my keepers did not understand. I listened— as I should have been doing from the start— and figured out that there were six of them, counting the absent Lark. They had served in the long, grim, bloody siege of Beneth Castle; this assignment was in the nature of a vacation for them, nursemaiding a dead body, a blind prisoner, and twenty- four cows
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