A/N -I apologise for the late-ness of this chapter. I'm busy with school, so updates might be a bit erratical the next few months. I'm aiming for bi-monthly updates, and I hope I'll be able to keep to that schedule, but it's possible I'll miss one or two.

o o o

Chapter 4 - Arrivals

The Royal city of Andalad

The big city square was the centre of Andalad. The open place was surrounded by the City Hall, the House of Commerce, and the Lady’s temple, effectively gathering the Royal city’s political, economical, and religious power in one and the same place.

The postman stopped in front of the City Hall to let Simon and Miri off the sled. He helped them get their luggage off before he took his mail-sack and went into the pompous house where the city of Andalad was run. The Royal palace might be the most important place in the country, but the City Hall was the most important place in Andalad, if you talked political power.

“Finally!” exclaimed Miri. “Zak must have been worried sick about us.”

"Wouldn't surprise me if he's been sitting around here waiting for us", agreed Simon.

Even though it was not as cold as it had been a few weeks earlier, the journey through the Taural had been hard. They had been held up in Cert for two days by a heavy snowfall, and now they were tired and hungry. Winter was not a good season for travel.

It was late in the day. The sun was on its way down, and the shadows were long. Simon looked around the square, which was less full of people now than the last time he had seen it. Of course, that had been almost six months ago, during the New Years’ festival when Andalad’s streets were even more packed than usual.

Simon could not see Zak’s face anywhere. Miri was staring at something in the middle of the square. “That’s a new addition”, she said, trying to make her voice light, but not really succeeding. Her little shiver had nothing to do with the cold.

Last time they were in Andalad, the gallows had been standing behind the temple, right outside the city prison. Someone had moved them to the middle of the square. There was something very unsettling about their dark outline against the pristine white marble of the Lady’s house. People walking over the open place made a wide detour around the execution place. The fear shone off them.

Simon did not want to watch it, but he couldn’t not watch it. Something about the sinister wood construction drew his eyes. It was empty right now, but he could imagine bodies hanging up there, twisting around at first, then becoming slack and heavy, dangling around like the very image of death.

“Simon?” came Miri’s tiny voice. “Can we go, please?”

He met her eyes; saw that the same thoughts were running through her head, so he shouldered his bag and nodded. “Good idea. Zak's probably at home, we'll meet him there.”

With a last look around the square, they both turned their back to the shape of the gallows. Simon wondered about that. It was like someone wanted to make a statement. Considering all the people who had been standing in line outside the city gates waiting to be let through, it seemed like Andalad was facing some pretty severe problems.

Simon had wished once, to be able to walk through the Royal city with no worries. To enjoy the sounds and the smells and the sights without feeling shadows in the back of his mind. This was not the day for that to happen.

“I’m going to have nightmares about that thing for a week”, said Miri as they trudged trough the snow towards the old town.

Simon could only agree. One more nightmare to add to the others.

o o o

The Royal city of Andalad, Old town

The Eagle and the Lion was a tavern in the lower part of he old town. It had a certain kind of clientele. Most people frequenting this particular establishment lived their lives on the shady side of the law.

Nothing would ever connect The Eagle and the Lion to any criminal activity, the owner made sure not to know more than she needed to about any of her customers. Still, these days it was not safe to be seen around this part of the town without a good reason.

The man with the many faces slid out of the front door, looked up and down the deserted street, and pulled up his collar. He was fairly certain that no hostile eyes were watching him, but one could never be too careful.

The Eagle and the Lion was also the only place in Andalad where one could speak freely without having to fear imprisonment or execution. The regulars all knew each other, and any of king Aidan's spies were bound to end up on the bottom of the Andalad stream, wrapped in chains.

Even so, the man with the many faces slid into the first little alley he came across and stayed there until he could be sure that he was not being followed. Despite the cold, he stood perfectly still, blending in with the shadows. Unless you knew he was there, it was impossible to see him. He had learned many similar tricks in his life, and most of them came in handy in the new business he had committed himself to.

It took quite a while until he finally felt safe enough to go home. There were several good reasons for his moniker, the most important being the safety of those he cared about.

o o o

Outside the Royal city of Andalad

“Let’s get this straight”, said Caran, for the seventh time that day. Matt had counted them. Ever since the morning, when he had finally got the nerve to tell her about his little troll hunting adventure, she had donned the protective-big-sister costume.

“You went up into the mountains, with a bunch of dwarflings as your only back-up?”

“Yes”, said Matt patiently.

“Then you ditched the dwarflings, and went up against a damned troll.”

“Something like that.”

“On your own. Armed with a pickaxe.”

“That’s pretty much what I told you, yes.”

Caran turned to Quin, with that exasperated face she did so well. “Tell me I ain’t related to that one.”

“I’m sorry, Caran. I think he’s your brother.”

Matt glared at him. He had hoped to get at least some support from Quin, but the carpenter seemed to be more amused than supportive. Of course, Quin tended to side with Caran on most things.

He had left Taikrat alone, but met up with Caran and Quinland on the road to Andalad. Seeing his sister always brought mixed feelings. It was true that she was the only real family he had left, but she could also be horribly patronising. Patronising and agonising and stubborn. There were some people who thought Caran was the Lady’s gift to the world. None of those people had grown up together with her.

“The part I like best”, said Caran now. “Is taking those freakin’ tusks and sending them to the baron. What were you thinking?”

That was a very good question actually. He was not sure he had been thinking. It had just been one of those things that felt right at the moment; and so he had wrapped up the tusks and sent them to Heyde Castle. He had those moments sometimes where he went and did things that seemed like a good idea, but that on second thought might not had been that bright after all.

Well, no one had ever accused him of being very bright anyway.

“If old Merret wasn’t after your hide before, he sure as hell is now”, yapped Caran. Matt wished that she could just let the whole thing go. This was getting old.

“I told you, I sent them anonymously”, answered Matt.

“Like that’d stop him. Who else would be so st…”

Quinland sighed and put a hand on Caran’s shoulder. “I think it’s time you stopped now”, he said. “Before you say something you’ll regret later.”

Caran wisely shut her mouth. Matt thought to himself that he would have been happy to shut it for her, had not Quinland intervened.

"What's taking so long anyway?" he asked, deciding to change the subject. They were sitting by the side of the road, seeing how a long line of people slowly moved towards Andalad's city gates. In the past hour, the line had only moved a few yards forwards.

"Refugees", said Caran and yawned. "There ain't much food in the countryside these days so they're coming to Andalad hoping that someone'll take care of them. Poor bastards."

He knew that of course. Taikrat was pretty well off, all things considered. With the close contacts with the dwarf community, and the incomes the mine brought, no-one was starving yet. People in other places had not fared so well.

Caran stood up. "I ain't got the patience to sit here and wait", she said, shouldering her slight pack. "Let's go find another way in."

"You just want to get out of paying the toll", muttered Matt. Caran shot him a quick grin.

"Well, that too. They're too high anyway, and I don't want the royal brat to know we're in the city. They way things are, we better lie low for a while." There was a pointed quality in the last words. In Matt's ears they sounded like an accusation. It seemed like Caran wouldn't let him forget about his mistake for a while yet.

He gave Quinland a look, and the large man shrugged. Of course, Quin would be on Caran's side. He always was. Matt knew it was childish, what he was going to do, but he still leaned back against his pack and turned his eye to the sky.

"You two go on then", he said. "I think I want to do things the legal way for a change."

Caran opened her mouth, eyes blazing. She looked like she was going to say something rude. A look from Quinland shut her up, and she shook her head. "Suit yourself. Come on Quin, I wanna get something to eat soon."

Quinland seemed unsure, not really wanting to part, but Matt waved him off. "Just go on. You may not believe it, but I actually know how to take care of myself."

The enormous carpenter sighed. "All right then. See you inside."

"See you", said Matt cheerfully, closed his eye, and pretended to fall asleep. He heard Caran and Quinland moving around, but he stayed still until he felt them go away. Then he drew a deep breath and sat up again.

It was not that he did not love his sister. He loved her very much. He just couldn't stand her over-protectiveness, and that idea she seemed to have that she was responsible for his well-being. It was over fifteen years since their father had died, but she still could not let go of the thought of him as the eleven-year-old boy who needed constant supervision to not get into trouble.

A little part of him whispered that maybe he still needed it. He shut the thought down and put it away. He was grown up now, damnit, and it was time for Caran to realize that.

The line did not move any quicker. Matt stood up and picked up his large, heavy pack. He had no intention to sit around and wait here, despite what he had told Caran. There were more than one way to flog a cat, and he did know most of the guards in this city.

The people in the line turned their heads after him as he started to walk towards the gates, but no one made a move to stop him. Most of them looked hollow-eyed and tired, desperately clinging to the end of their ropes. Caran had been right, calling them 'poor bastards'.

It took Matt an hour to get up to the city gate. By then, the line had divided into two, of which one was moving a little faster than the other. Matt slipped into the faster one. The fat man he stepped in front of gave him an ugly look, but Matt turned his blind side towards him. He was used to ugly looks.

The lines seemed to be parted after what business the people in them had in the city. The refugees were herded into the slower moving line, while those who were there to trade or do business were allowed to enter. As Matt came closer to the gate, he started to see people coming the other way. They looked even more hopeless than the ones before, and he drew the conclusion that they had been turned away. Of course, not even a city of Andalad's size could take all these people in.

The guard by the gate had a clipboard and a bored expression. She did not raise her eyes when Matt came up to her, and her voice had a toneless quality that suggested that she had said the same words over and over the entire day, and was getting quite tired of them.

"State your business please."

Matt wondered what to say. Then he remembered what he had told Caran, and decided to go for the truth.

"I'm here to visit a friend", he said.

The guard shook her head, still not raising her head from the clipboard. "You got to have to move over there, mister", she said, pointing to the other line. "This line is for tradesmen only."

Matt sighed. He could not be mistaken for a tradesman no matter how much he tried, so he moved to turn around. Maybe he should have gone with Caran instead.

Then, the guard on the other side of the gate looked up, and made wide eyes. "Hey!" he said. "You're Matthew of Nima!"

Matt turned again, looking at the guard, a young man still with pimpled skin, and a nose that looked too big for his face. "I was", he said. He'd never liked that name. "Do I know you?"

The young guard laughed nervously. "No, sir", he said. "No, you wouldn't remember me. I was at Ernat. Seventh ring, third company. Served under captain Creban, sir."

By now, the other guard had finally looked up from her clipboard, and was staring at Matt as well. "You really are him", she said breathlessly. She was about the same age at the young man with the pimples, but her eyes were far too old.

"I was the last time I looked", muttered Matt, not sure about what he should do about this sudden attention. Maybe Caran had been right after all. There were no worse gossipers than soldiers. By this evening, every person in Andalad who wore a green tunic would know that Matthew of Nima had been here.

"It's such an honour to meet you, sir", said the girl. Matt wanted to grimace, but decided against it. His face was horrible enough as it was.

"Are you going to let me in or not?" he asked. "It's pretty cold out here."

The two young guards looked at each other, and then back at him. Matt wondered if he had looked that young when he was their age. It was notso long ago, but for some reason he felt ancient already.

“Of course, sir”, said the young boy then. “Welcome to Andalad, sir. Enjoy your stay!”

Matt only nodded in response and walked past them. They whispered something behind his back that he could have heard if he had bothered to make the effort, but the attention made him feel uncomfortable, and he just wanted to get out from under all the watching eyes. He did not bother to correct them about the ‘sir’-part either.

The more he thought about it, the more was he beginning to believe that he should have joined Caran and Quin instead. Oh, well. It was too late to worry about that now. What difference could it possibly make?

o o o

The Royal city of Andalad, Army Headquarters

The weather was changing. Mariza could feel it in her joints. Her right knee had been so swollen this morning that she hardly made it out of bed, and the hip snapped and cracked for every limping step she took. The leg was still not completely healed after Nima valley, and would probably never be. According to Master Brendan, she was lucky to be able to walk at all. On bad days, when the weather was damp and cold, she was stuck to her chair and has to rely on Blake to run errands for her.

On good days, she hardly noticed it and could go about her business like everything was normal. But she would never lead an army in battle again.

Today was a bad day, and she was in pain. In her usual manner, she had not uttered a word of complaint, but Blake had noticed nevertheless. The blond woman did her best to make sure that the general would not have to move around needlessly, and kept the stash of willow-bark tea close at hand. Mariza blessed the day Blake Nakima had come back to Andalad to work for her. The horsewoman was a real treasure, and had many useful talents. Sometimes, working with her was almost like working with a Caran Fox that was not bad-tempered and secretive.

Not to speak ill of Caran Fox of course…

The jester woman was on her way to Andalad this very moment, Mariza knew, and she was looking forward to meeting her peculiar friend again. Blake was excited as well, but Mariza figured that her excitement had more to do with Caran’s brother.

Blake was sitting in the chair on the opposite side of Mariza’s large desk. It seemed to be difficult for her to sit still. She was fiddling with the hem of her tunic, then cracked her fingers, and let her eyes go to the window. There was something almost nervous about Blake today.

“I take it they have not arrived yet?” asked Mariza.

Blake started, and took her eyes from the window. “Not this morning at least”, she said. “Simon and Miri are already late, but the weather down south is worse, so it might take longer for them to get here.”

“And young Matthew?” asked Mariza with a knowing smile. Blake made an annoyed little grimace.

“He’ll get here when he gets here. And when he does, I’m sure we’ll know about it.” She shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t know what he’s thinking with sometimes. There was no need for him to do what he did in Heyde.”

The word about the anonymous gift of a pair of troll tusks to the baron of Heyde had already reached Andalad, and the theories about the meaning of the gift were many. Only a select few knew the identity of the sender, but all who knew corporal Matthew Miner Robensson had been able to guess.

“It seems to me that he might need something to occupy his time with”, said Mariza. She had played with the thought of calling Matthew back to Andalad, if only to put a thorn in king Aidan’s side, but she had decided against it. It was possible that the wayward warrior’s presence might stir up more trouble than Mariza could handle.

Blake leaned back in her chair and crossed her long legs in front of her. “Seems like he’s busy enough to me”, she said. “Could we talk about something else, please?”

“Of course.” Mariza turned over a few papers on her desk. “I have a meeting with our councilors tomorrow morning. Lady Gailena wants to discuss the new property-laws again. If I can convince her that they are completely insane, she might be able to bring some more people over on our side.”

Lady Gailena Wenther had never been Mariza’s favourite person, but she had to admit that the councilwoman was a sharp politician and got things done. She was one of the king’s aunts, and her opinion counted for a lot in the council. Mariza was glad for every little issue she could make Lady Gailena agree on.

“And when we are on the topic of ‘our side’”, continued Mariza, turning another paper over. “Have you been able to find out anything more about…”

“No”, said Blake, shaking her head. “I have been asking around as much as I possibly can without raising too much suspicion, but it seems like the leaders of the opposition wants to remain unknown.”

Mariza tapped her fingers together. “I do not blame them”, she said. “Although it would be useful to know their identities. We need support from the people as well as the councilors.”

Shortly after Aidan had taken over the throne, a secret organization had taken form in Andalad. They seemed to occupy themselves mostly by writing slogans on the walls late at night, but as far as Mariza was concerned, they might be a force to be reckoned with. As long as there was unrest in the capital, Aidan could not close his eyes to the fact that there were many who were unhappy with the way he ruled Jirac.

“They all have these aliases”, said Blake in an irritated tone of voice. “There are secret meetings and secret code-words, and it’s all very theatrical. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost believe Caran had something to do with it, but she’s smarter than that.”

“No, I cannot see her take an interest in politics”, agreed Mariza. “Besides, she has not been in the city since this summer.”

“She’s got long arms”, said Blake thoughtfully. “But no. It’s not her. Can’t be her. The people who run this group don’t have a plan. They don’t seem to be very organized. Talkers, not doers.”

Mariza had to admit to herself that she had thought more than onceabout the possibility that Caran Fox might have something to do with the rebellious group that had formed in if Blake’s description of them was true, nothing could have been more different from Caran’s character.

“No matter what they are, they are still in danger”, she said. “There is an arrest order out on them, and I would like to find them before Aidan does.”

“Only thing I know is, they seem to be stationed around the old town”, said Blake. “I’ll try to get something out of Zak tonight. He usually knows what’s going on down there. And speaking of which”, Blake smiled. “Master Iain asked me to tell you that you’re welcome to join us for dinner.”

Mariza shook her head. “I am having dinner with general Creban tonight, before he leaves for the other side”, she said. Creban was now the field commander of the Royal army, and he spent most of his time on the other side of the river.

“Did he manage to get married this time?” asked Blake with a crooked smile.

“No”, answered Mariza. “There was no time.”

General Creban was engaged to Ailinn Wenther, one of Aidan’s many cousins, but the wedding was put off time after time. Mariza had expected Crebans promotion to speed up the event, but that had not been the case. It was an arranged marriage, and had very little to do with love, but Mariza stillsuspected that general Creban was beginning to get quite impatient.

Blake stood up and gathered up her cloak. “I hope you have a nice evening then”, she said. “I’ll let you know when Caran and Matt arrives.”

Mariza asked the blond woman to send her regards to Master Iain and Zakary, and then went back to her paperwork. During her years of field command, she had never realised exactly how much of it there was. Sometimes she felt buried up to her ears in letters and reports and all the other documents that were necessary when you were running an army of Jirac’s size.

After the disastrous battle of Ernat, there had not been much left of the Royal army. In the six months that Aidan had been on the throne, however, he had done his best to make it grand again. But the problem with Aidan Wenther was that he had a tendency to confuse quantity with quality. The training barracks might be full once more, but the people residing there were no soldier material. Many of the new recruits were little more than children, since Aidan had lowered the minimum age to fifteen. Old veterans had been called back to Andalad. Mariza had fought with teeth and claws so that her troop from Nima would not be forced to go back on duty against their will. She hoped to be able to keep it that way.

The candles were almost burned down. Mariza looked out of the window and sighed. It was getting late, and she ought to get ready for her dinner with Creban. Her crutches were leaning against the side of the desk. She reached for them and held back a wince, as the movement jarred her bad hip. A few moments to steel herself, and then she rose from the chair, and slowly made it up.

If only this winter could end soon...

To be continued…