was well—known for her strength of arm and sharp tongue.
"You should have poked an eye out," she began one afternoon, as they walked back to the main stronghold with a load of firewood. Paks shook her head.
"I was trying to get away."
"That's stupid. Anyone can get mauled trying to get away. Attack on your own. If you'd gotten an eye — "
"I'd have been in worse trouble, Barra." Paks checked the mule she was leading, and shoved one length of wood back into place. But Barra had not gone on; she halted her own mule and went on with her lecture.
"No, you wouldn't. He started it; he was wrong. They'd have had to admit that. As it is, they owe you — "
"No, they don't. Besides, they only found out it was his fault because I was beat up worse."
"That's not right." Barra scowled and strode along silent for some distance. "If it's not your fault, they should — "
"Barra — " Natzlin, a slender, pleasant girl with warm brown eyes who had been coupled with Barra before they joined, laid a hand on her arm. "Paks came out well — and if she's satisfied — "
"No. She came out beaten half—dead, and — "
Paks laughed. "By the gods, Barra, I'm not that easy to kill."
"You looked it that morning. A real mess, I tell you—I was ashamed—"
Paks felt a flicker of anger. "You — and why you? I was the one out there |n front of everyone — "
"You'd always been a strong one, Siger's pet, and there you were, looking like something that'd come from a lockup — "
Paks grinned in spite of herself. "Well — I had — "
"Blast it! You know what I mean! You looked — "
"Gods above, Barra! She doesn't want to think about that now!" Vik shoved his way between them, and winked at Paks. "Don't worry — even bruises and chains can't make you ugly, Paks."
She felt herself go red. "Vik — "
"Like a song," he went on, unmoved. "Did you ever hear Falk's Oath of Gold,' Paks? When Falk was taken in the city of fear, and locked away all those years?"
"No. I thought Falk was a sort of saint, like Gird."
"Saints!" snorted Barra from Vik's other side.
"He is," said Vik seriously. "And Barra — I wouldn't scoff at them. Maybe they're far above us — but they have power."
"The gods have power," said Barra. "I'm not like Effa — I don't believe that men become gods when they die. And I'd rather be alive anyway."
"But tell me about Falk," said Paks. "Isn't he the one that wears rubies and silver?"
"I don't know what he wears
now
," began Vik. "He was a knight, a ruler's son, who kept his sworn oath and saved his kin by it, even though it meant years of slavery for him."
"Ugh. Why didn't he just kill his enemies?" asked Barra. "I heard that he spent a year cleaning the jacks of some city — "
"That and more," said Vik. "It's in the song, but you know I can't sing it. My father did, and I know most of the story. You'd like it, Paks — it's full of magic and kings and things like that."
"A magic sword?"
"Oh, yes. More than one. Someday when we've made enough money, we can hire a harper to sing it for us." Vik kept the conversation going until they reached the stronghold, where they broke up into their separate units. Barra shook her head, but stayed away from the topic the next time they drilled together. But others wanted to know what the underground cells were like, and what Stammel had said, and what the corporal had said. Paks fended off these questions as best she could: the cells were cold and miserable, and she wouldn't repeat any of the talks she'd had. Eventually they let her alone.
Meanwhile, Stammel had taken the unit in to help Kolya with her apple harvest. This was their first time to see Duke's East, since they had arrived from the west. Children playing in the streets waved and yelled at them; the adults smiled and spoke to Stammel. They passed an inn, the Red Fox, and a cobbled square surrounded with taller stone houses, and came to a stone bridge over the little river. Upstream Paks could see a weir and a
"You should have poked an eye out," she began one afternoon, as they walked back to the main stronghold with a load of firewood. Paks shook her head.
"I was trying to get away."
"That's stupid. Anyone can get mauled trying to get away. Attack on your own. If you'd gotten an eye — "
"I'd have been in worse trouble, Barra." Paks checked the mule she was leading, and shoved one length of wood back into place. But Barra had not gone on; she halted her own mule and went on with her lecture.
"No, you wouldn't. He started it; he was wrong. They'd have had to admit that. As it is, they owe you — "
"No, they don't. Besides, they only found out it was his fault because I was beat up worse."
"That's not right." Barra scowled and strode along silent for some distance. "If it's not your fault, they should — "
"Barra — " Natzlin, a slender, pleasant girl with warm brown eyes who had been coupled with Barra before they joined, laid a hand on her arm. "Paks came out well — and if she's satisfied — "
"No. She came out beaten half—dead, and — "
Paks laughed. "By the gods, Barra, I'm not that easy to kill."
"You looked it that morning. A real mess, I tell you—I was ashamed—"
Paks felt a flicker of anger. "You — and why you? I was the one out there |n front of everyone — "
"You'd always been a strong one, Siger's pet, and there you were, looking like something that'd come from a lockup — "
Paks grinned in spite of herself. "Well — I had — "
"Blast it! You know what I mean! You looked — "
"Gods above, Barra! She doesn't want to think about that now!" Vik shoved his way between them, and winked at Paks. "Don't worry — even bruises and chains can't make you ugly, Paks."
She felt herself go red. "Vik — "
"Like a song," he went on, unmoved. "Did you ever hear Falk's Oath of Gold,' Paks? When Falk was taken in the city of fear, and locked away all those years?"
"No. I thought Falk was a sort of saint, like Gird."
"Saints!" snorted Barra from Vik's other side.
"He is," said Vik seriously. "And Barra — I wouldn't scoff at them. Maybe they're far above us — but they have power."
"The gods have power," said Barra. "I'm not like Effa — I don't believe that men become gods when they die. And I'd rather be alive anyway."
"But tell me about Falk," said Paks. "Isn't he the one that wears rubies and silver?"
"I don't know what he wears
now
," began Vik. "He was a knight, a ruler's son, who kept his sworn oath and saved his kin by it, even though it meant years of slavery for him."
"Ugh. Why didn't he just kill his enemies?" asked Barra. "I heard that he spent a year cleaning the jacks of some city — "
"That and more," said Vik. "It's in the song, but you know I can't sing it. My father did, and I know most of the story. You'd like it, Paks — it's full of magic and kings and things like that."
"A magic sword?"
"Oh, yes. More than one. Someday when we've made enough money, we can hire a harper to sing it for us." Vik kept the conversation going until they reached the stronghold, where they broke up into their separate units. Barra shook her head, but stayed away from the topic the next time they drilled together. But others wanted to know what the underground cells were like, and what Stammel had said, and what the corporal had said. Paks fended off these questions as best she could: the cells were cold and miserable, and she wouldn't repeat any of the talks she'd had. Eventually they let her alone.
Meanwhile, Stammel had taken the unit in to help Kolya with her apple harvest. This was their first time to see Duke's East, since they had arrived from the west. Children playing in the streets waved and yelled at them; the adults smiled and spoke to Stammel. They passed an inn, the Red Fox, and a cobbled square surrounded with taller stone houses, and came to a stone bridge over the little river. Upstream Paks could see a weir and a
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