'Oh What's his name ' asked Onthar.
'Angriff Brightblade.' None of the herders responded to this disclosure. However, behind Sturm, Belingen stiffened.
His mouth dropped open to speak, but he closed it without saying a word.
'Well, I hope you find him,' Onthar said. 'You're a fair hand with cattle and good with that sword. These others, they don't know a sword from a sharpened stick.
'Thank you, Onthar,' Sturm said. 'Traveling compan- ions help shorten the journey.'
Frijje played his pipe a while. Tervy, who had been sitting by Sturm's side, arms wrapped around her shins, was won derstruck by the funny noises that the young herdsman was making. Seeing her interest, Frijje handed her the flute. Ter vy blew in the end as Frijje had done, but could only make a faint, unmusical rasp. She flung the pipe back to Frijje.
'Magic,' she stated flatly.
'No, my girl. It's all skill.' He dusted the dirt from the mouthpiece and trilled a fast scale.
'You move fingers like a cleverman,' she pointed out.
'Believe what you want.' Frijje lay back and played a slow ballad. Sturm put his head down, but Tervy continued to watch Frijje as long as he played.
In the days that followed, Tervy's command of language increased dramatically. She told Sturm that among her peo ple no one spoke without leave from the head man, so that by habit they all spoke in clipped, short sentences. She had learned the Common tongue in order to be a scout. Tervy's raider band had stalked Onthar's herd for more than eight hours before striking.
'We didn't know you had a sword,' she said. 'If we know — if we had known, we'd have used another plan.'
'Such as?'
She grinned. 'Would've jumped you first.'
These conversations took place while Sturm worked the herd and Tervy rode behind him. The resilient Tervy wasn't the least bit worn from riding the hard pillion all day. And in the evening, when the communal stew pot came out, she earned her portion of Sturm's meal by cleaning and oiling his boots, his sword, and sword belt.
'You've picked up a squire,' Belingen said, as Tervy dili gently buffed Sturm's boots with a piece of sheepskin.
'Um, and in a year or two she'll be a fine companion on cold nights,' Ostimar added with a wicked grin.
'Why wait so long?' Rorin said. The herders laughed roughly.
'What do they mean?' Tervy asked.
'Never mind,' Sturm said. For all her toughness, Tervy was completely innocent, and Sturm saw no reason for her to change.
Chapter 39
The squat fortifications of Vingaard Keep loomed over the low-lying plain with a presence that far exceeded its modest height. Onthar led the herd up out of a flood-cut gully and the keep stood out like a mountain peak, though they were still miles away. Sturm was near the front position then, and the sight of the ancient knightly fortress filled him with excitement and longing. From Vingaard, Castle Bright blade was only a day's ride.
'Why do people build such places?' Tervy asked from behind him.
'A keep is a stronghold, to live in and defend against attacks,' Sturm said.
'Lived in by other ironskins.'
'Yes, and their families.'
'Ironskins have families?'
'Well, of course, where do you think little ironski — knights come from?' he asked, amused.
A haze hung over the old keep, which was little more than a ruin these days. After the Cataclysm, marauders had burned the keep. The walls still stood, but the tower was an empty shell.
Closer in, the haze proved to be dust and smoke from tramping feet and campfires. A sizable body of troops was encamped around the outer wall. No banners flew. Sturm could not tell whose troops they were, but their presence explained the need for large numbers of cattle. Such an army needed huge amounts of food.
Riders slipped in on both sides, observing the oncoming herd. Sturm scrutinized them in return. Their armor was plain, undistinguished as to origin or age. The cavalry men wore barred visors on their helmets and carried long lances.
Their proportions appeared human, but they kept to such a distance that it was impossible to be sure.
Tervy was intrigued. 'More ironskins,' she breathed.
Sturm corrected her. 'Not all men in armor are knights,' he said. 'You be very careful around them. They may be evil.' He felt her thin arms tighten a little around his waist.
Whatever her failings in education, Tervy knew evil.
The keep grew larger as the day wore on, and the outrid ers thickened on the herd's flanks. Sturm rode past Onthar while making his circuit. 'What do you make of those men?' asked Sturm.
'Cavalry,' Onthar said. He chewed a long blade of grass.
'Glad to see 'em. Won't be any raiders about with them out there.'
Onthar halted at midday for a word with his men. 'I do the talking, and I do the dealing. Any man speaks out of turn at a parley like this loses his head. I don't know if these are mercenaries, or some warlord's new army, but I don't want any trouble. So keep your mouths closed and your hands empty.'
Half a mile from the keep, a column of horsemen galloped out to meet the herd. Sturm was on the right edge of the for mation then, and he saw the men ride out. Onthar met them, and the cattle milled to a stop and fell to cropping the grass.
Sturm couldn't hear what was being said, but Tervy mumbled something. He said, 'What did you say?'
'I'm catching their words,' she replied.
'You're what?'
'Catching their words. If you watch their mouths move, you can catch the words they speak, even if you're too far away to hear them.'
Sturm turned sharply to her. 'You're jesting with me!'
'Cut my heart out if I lie, Ironskin. The man, Onthar, said he has brought his animals because he heard a great lord was buying cattle for top coin. And the man in the iron hat said, yes, they can use all the fresh meat they can get.'
'Can you really tell what they are saying?'
'I can, if you let me look.' Sturm wheeled Brumbar around so that Tervy had the best view of the parley.
'Onthar says he will bargain with the great lord himself, no one else. Iron Hat says, 'I speak for the great lord in small things.' 'Listen to me,' Onthar says, 'my herd is not a small thing. Either the great lord speaks to me, or I will drive the cattle over the mountains to Palanthas, where beef always commands a high price.' Iron Hat is angry, but he says, 'I will go and speak to the great lord; wait and I will return with his tidings.'' She smiled at Sturm. 'How was that?'
The cavalry officer did in fact bring his horse around and gallop back to the keep. Sturm asked, 'Where did you learn such a trick?'
'An old man in our band practiced this art. He was the best scout on the plain. He could catch words true from a bowshot away. He taught me before he died.'
'Where did he learn it?'
'From a kender, he said.'
They waited in the broiling sun until the cavalryman returned. His fine mount pranced out to where Onthar sat slouched on his stubby pony. Tervy squinted into the glare and caught their words again.
