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“Benix, how was the warriorcarrier when you saw it?”
Benix dropped from the lift box to the snow beside Anen. “Nearly full, milord. The casualties of eight Millenniums....”
"Fill it with as many more wounded as will fit. Bubov, collect the able-bodied men and send them down to Teykov and Ghoskhent. You and the Purples can then escort the garden 'family'---" Anen paused to swallow his disgust at the chief farmer's greed, "---escort the garden family to the transport. You can return to Buruq when ready."
"Lord Anen, may I speak to you alone?"
Anen tried to read Bubov's mind via his face and found he could not. He walked to the far side of the lift with him. The wind roared around the lift, tearing at the men's survival suits and pushing them away from their original positions. For several minutes, snow blotted out all their surroundings. Even the brilliant ground lights of the warriorcarrier vanished literally into thin air.
"Anen, come on the warriorcarrier," Kosh said urgently. "It's the only flier that should take off tonight. The rest are too light and too risky in a storm like we're going to have in just a little bit."
"Both of us, on one ship? Wouldn't that be a coup for Gaito!"
"What chance is there of Moaekod attacking here at night, on 46 Gorny?"
"What chance would you have said he had of getting someone at Buruq to feed that chief farmer that idea of fees?"
"You know he could do that from anywhere. To get the transport, Gaito has to have at least heavy guns, here, on Garden 4. Gild pix would have shown that. It would be known."
Anen sighed. "Maybe I'm fighting phantoms. Sentinels, Kosh! A traitor in the house somewhere, a slave revolt that's not yet entirely vanquished, and an oath-feast tomorrow...." He watched Benix and Seigavich take advantage of a lull in the wind to walk the smith towards the warriorcarrier. "From not suspicious enough, maybe I've gone to too suspicious." He looked back at his friend. "I want to live, Kosh. I want to save my House, but I don't want to die doing it."
Kosh put a hand on Anen's shoulder. In silence they watched Benix and Teykov return.
"Benix," Anen said, "I know you've had a hard three days, but I need more work from you. I'm leaving you in charge here. Have the men on level 1 check the whole garden. I want all slave gatherings broken up and the slaves sent to their quarters and kept there for the duration of this storm. Kosh thinks the storm should blow itself out by noon tomorrow and we can send the transport back for you and the men. The slaves should stay peaceful, at least for awhile, after they calm down. You can have a week off back at Buruq."
Benix saluted and trudged off through the snow to the nearest escape-stair-shelter. Anen and Kosh joined Stanis, who waited on the opposite side of the lift, and they all walked through the blowing snow to the transport.
Hours later, the warriorcarrier reached Buruq. Anen personally oversaw the unloading of casualties, assigned the millens their nursing shifts, and saw Zyn-the-smith confined to comfortable political prisoner "guest" quarters. Anen ordered bread, meat, and beer for all able to eat it, listened with relief to the Dlinnyy's report of an uneventful day, then he and the other able-bodied soldiers separated to get a few hours' sleep. Alone in his cold, stark room, Anen sprawled across the big bed and was asleep before he could pull a blanket over himself.
It seemed his head had just touched the pillow when impatient hands drumming on his door woke him up. "Get up, you sluggard! It's your big day! Your vassals await you!" Stanis's voice boomed into the room.
Anen rolled over and stared up at the stone ceiling. The ceiling was so gray. The entire castle was so gray. How cheerful, Anen thought sleepily, to have ceilings painted blue, like the summer sky, edged with tall grass and wildflowers like the rim of the world. Maybe then winter would not seem so long.
Stanis pounded louder. "Aren't you awake yet? Come on! Useomkdok's waiting for you to look at a chart of your vassals and their duties."
Anen sat up slowly, groggily, swung his leg over the edge of the bed, and stretched. At least winter meant safety---no sieges, no duels, not likely an assassin, either---for at least 160 days. He groaned. "That's what didn't get done this week. Oath-feast work." He pushed himself up and off the bed and stumbled to the sanitary.
A few minutes later he came back into his room, toweling dry his hair. "Come on in, Stanis. Sorry I'm so slow--big day? Vassals? Guardians!"
Stanis roared with laughter. "You should see your face! Yes, vassals. They've been waiting two hours now. You slept far overtime. Nobody could wake you up. The Dlinnyy finally sent your sister in to try."
Anen shuddered dramatically. "I slept through that?! I didn't know anyone could sleep through Cim's wake-up routine." He looked at his chrono and his mouth twisted ruefully. "I'll have to put on my ceremonial livery now, looks like."
The clothes had been laid on the xop-hide chest at the foot of the bed. Anenn put on a pair of close-fitting, Kurharay-purple trimmed with narrow bands of green, a floppy sak-skin hat, and a knee-length purple cape lined with white and trimmed with the same narrow green bands as his vest. He fastened the cape, so it hung over his right shoulder, then took a long, leather-wrapped package from inside the chest. Stanis came closer to see. Anen laid the package on the bed and unwrapped it reverently. Inside was a much-used sword with a jeweled hilt, from which several of the jewels were missing, and a stained and battered scabbard. Anen belted the sword around his waist, so the scabbard hung on his left hip. In one smooth motion, he drew the sword and flourished it.
"This is the sword that one Kurharay Holding 611 Gildyears ago. We're a young House." Anen posed, legs braced, sword point against the floor between his feet, hands crossed on the knob of the hilt. "Well? How do I look?"
Stanis walked slowly around him. He stood in front of Anen a moment, hands on hips, head to one side. "Quaint."
Anen's smiled flashed. "We're very traditional here."
Stanis laughed, then pointed to the sword. "Do you still use those things here?"
"Only for formal duels." Anen sheathed the sword and turned Stanis boldly towards the door. "Let's eat before Useomkdok and his chart find me. Or my duties as host, for that matter. I seem to have missed a lot of meals in the last few days."
But there was no time for that. Useomkdok met the two in the hall and right away began talking to Anen of vassals and liege lords and oaths. Too soon, he thought. Anen stood in the midst of his official retinue at the door of the Charming Haunt, waiting for the Dlinnyy. People packed the Haunt and the galleries. Wide banners of different colors, each with the wide band of dark blue flanked by narrow bands of green that was the Kurharay mark, hung from the columns under the galleries. Flaming torches sent trails of black smoke towards the vaulted ceiling. Scented smoke drifted over the heads of the crowd from ceremonial censers waved by blue-robed boys.
Friends, Family, allies, and vassals---the gathering shifted and moved like a lake in a breeze. Everyone wore bright holiday clothes. Here and there Anen saw an especially vivid red splash of purple or green or red or even gold, each splash the delicate floor-length veil of some noblewoman's tall conical hat. "Sun" glowed through the clere-story windows, making the tiny panes of colored glass glow and setting the jewels in the crowd glinting and sparkling. At the other end of the Haunt, was Dlinnyy's dais. High above that hung an immense wooden cross. Under that cross Anen would take his oath when he was officially installed as the Kererr on 10 Pskov next. Today, after the vassals had taken their oaths of fealty, the Dlinnyy's table would be set on the dais for the feast.
The Dlinnyy's personal Lifesaver opened a path of her. The Dlinnyy hurried up to Anen. "I'm sorry I'm late, Son." She adjusted her tall, pointed hat a fraction. "How do I look?" She turned slowly. The Kurharay-purple gown made of some fleecy material, contrasted strikingly with her gold coloring.
"Fine, milady, fine."
"That's just what your sire would've said." The Dlinnyy sighed. "Oh, well, it's not the worst thing you could have learned from him. He paid attention, after his fashion." She slipped her hand into the recesses of her skirt. "Here, you'll need these." She dropped the heavy beaded necklace of House administrator into Anen's hand.
Anen poked the ends of the necklace under his sword belt, then adjusted his floppy hat. "Our guests await us. If you're ready, Lady Mother?"
She took his arm and they walked towards the dais, the Dlinnyy's guard and some of the household Purples opening a path. Murmurs of recognition, low comments about their clothes or bearing, asides followed by laughter, and the heavy scents of perfume, incense, and sweat surrounded them. Somewhere in the crowd a dog yelped. Anen and the Dlinnyy reached the low platform and climbed the steps onto it. The serfs of the household staff, gathered under the galleries, surged forward crying, "The Dlinnyy! The Dlinnyy!" and knelt around the dais.
Anen responded with the words that tradition demanded. "My thanks, good people. I value your loyalty. Go with God's blessing."
The serfs filed out. Anen looked out over the brilliant, glittering crowd. He dreaded the next step in the ritual. How much had his sire's contempt for him influenced that moving, whispering mass of people? What will they do? Anen wondered. Will I alone cry out the words? He swallowed, then shot his clenched fist above his head. "The Dlinnyy is dead. Kurharay lives!"
Without hesitation, the crowd roared back, "Kurharay lives! Kurharay lives!"
For just a moment Anen felt giddy with relief. They didn't deny me! Then he remembered the next step, so carefully drilled into him. He beckoned Medok Useomkdok, who stood in the front ranks of the crowd, to come to him. "Family, lords and ladies, friends of House Kurharay, today we install our new House administrator, Medok Useomkdok, son of House Bajor."
Useomkdok knelt at the edge of the dais. Anen bent and slipped the necklace of office over his head. Medok Useomkdok, will you strive in all your duties to act and speak for the best interests of House Kurharay?"
"I will, so God assist me."
"Rise, then, and may God and his Four Sentinels go with you." Useomkdok stood. Anen put his hands on Useomkdok's shoulders and kissed him on both cheeks.
When Useomkdok had taken a place beside the Dlinnyy, with his stylus and pad poised to record oaths and gifts, and Mooses had taken his place on Anen's left, beside a long table spread with packages, the Dlinnyy Anya walked to the edge of the dais.
"Now I call all loyal vassals of House Kurharay to come forward to renew the vows taken by their grandsires in ancient days and renewed at the Kererr's pleasure. I, regent in House Kurharay, do declare Anen Kurharay Kererr in all but age. Do you make your oath to him." Her mellow voice had surprising power, for the first vassals to come forward from the rear of the Haunt.
Four men in scarlet-and-gold robes came to the edge of the dais. The oldest of them bowed and saluted Anen by removing his cloak. "We are aldermen of the Freecity of Buruq, milord. Though a freecity, we acknowledge our dependence on Buruq and Kurharay Holding for defense and financial support. Freemen's customary neutrality will not lessen this loyalty, Lord Anen."
The men all bowed and backed away ten steps before they turned and went back to their places. Aldermen of the freecities of Goltar and Nargon followed, acknowledging their obligation for land and for the opar stone or silica used in their crafthalls. Such acknowledgment was all tradition required and the aldermen returned to their places with promises of aid or loyalty. Useomkdok finished his notation for the freecities had given their due.
Anen took from Mooses a pair of shoes and a bolt of cloth. He held them up for all to see. "Every Kurharay serf in these cities receives today new shoes for himself and his children, and cloth enough for draad and qogg for each member of his family."
Although this, too, was a tradition, the crowd celebrated the gift with shouting and cheers. The Dlinnyy stepped to the edge of the dais and lifted her head a little, proudly. "Now do I call the noble Houses. Come forward as custom has set the order."
The first representative of the Houses, a spare, gray man, came forward, knelt, and placed his two hands between Anen's. "I, Lor III Karimov, by the grace of God Duke of Karimov, will, from this hour forth, be faithful to Anen, Kererr of House Kurharay, and his successors. I will not cause by word, deed, consent, or counsel that they lose life or limbs or be taken captive. I shall cause harm to be removed if I am able and will tell about it if I am not able to. I will keep Kurharay secrets. I will aid, to the best of my ability, the holding and defending against all men of the patrimony of Anen Kurharay. May God and his Four Sentinels aid me."
Anen bent, kissed Karimov on both cheeks, raised him to his feet, and gave him a large box, elaborately wrapped. "Go with God," he said.
Karimov was the only member of the Ten Families owing fealty to House Kurharay. After the Duke, the lords of the minor Houses of Bajor, Zeltser, Popov, and Zulvad came forward, gave the same oath, received the same kisses, gift, and blessing. Kurharay cousins who held land from the Kererr followed and gave their oaths. Last to swear fealty were younger sons of minor Houses who held factories or mines from Kurharay for a share in the profits. These men received a bonus in Gild currency instead of a gift.
"Go with God," Anen said to the last man, then beckoned to the chaplain of The Glory, who had been sitting in a chair under the gallery, waiting for his moment.
The old man hobbled forward, raised his arms in benediction, and rushed through an inaudible prayer. When he had hobbled back to his chair, the crowd in the Hall was free to stay or go. The Dlinnyy signaled the minstrels to begin, then slipped away herself. Tambourines clashed, pipes piped, tumblers flipped across the floor in front of the dais. A juggler moved into the crowd, tossing silver knives in a circle above his head. The spectators began to laugh, shout, talk to each other. Dogs were unleashed. One began yapping at the tumblers and running alongside them as they flipped from one side of the Haunt to the other. Somewhere in the galleries a small baby squalled. Some people filtered out into the corridors, making gaps in the shifting crowd, but most stayed, waiting with a tense expectancy. Anen looked sharply towards Useomkdok.
"What are they waiting for?"
"You forgot the announcement that all the noble vassals had completed their duties, milord." He held up a hand as Anen opened his mouth to speak. "It's just as well, lord. Ilin, Korol, and Nikitina didn't come. What do you want done, Lord Anen?"
Anen cussed under his breath. "That's why they're waiting out there. They've counted and they're waiting to see what I'll do." Anen looked out over the crowd. He knew its expectant silence was an unfriendly one.
They're waiting for me to show myself the weakling my sire taught them to expect. He stared down at the expectant, almost eager faces and, for a moment, hated them.
"Do you want me to call the regent back, milord?"
"What?"
"Do you want me to call the regent back, milord?"
"That would just confirm their low opinion of me, Medok. Announce that.... No, I can't let someone else speak on my behalf." He lifted his head with arrogance and spoke in a cold, hard voice. "Lords and ladies, people of my House, I interrupt your pleasure to make a serious announcement. The ceremony of fealty is incomplete. Three vassals have refused to make their oath as they are sworn to do. Ilin, Korol, and Nikitina are now named oathbreakers and defiant vassals. They will all three be punished for shirking their duties." He spun away before anyone could ask him how. "Meet me in the library," he told Usemomkdok quietly and left the Haunt.
When Usemomkdok reached the library, Anen was leaning back against the stones of the fireplace with his hands in his trouser pockets, drawing a wandering pattern on the stone floor with the toe of one white ceremonial boot. He stood erect as Usemomkdok came towards him, took his hands out of his pockets, and straightened his shoulders with effort. "Advise me. I must make the correct decision the first time, "he said without preamble. "I'll have no second chance, not with my Family, not with the three vassals, not with Gaito Moaekod." Anen turned, slapped the flat of his hand against the stones, and stared down at the hearth. "By my Sire's Blood, those three would never have tried this with him! I'll wager they think the horrors of Ghorr will stop the Kurharay 'women' from taking any action."
