He suspected a great deal of that humility was donned for the occasion, but that didn't mean he could ignore it. 'Very well, lord Schild, I shall defend you with such forces as I can spare,' he said. 'I shall not do so, though, until you furnish me this year's feudal dues, in metal and grain and ale, for your holding. You haven't paid those dues lately; I hope you remember what they are.'
By the sour look Schild gave him, he remembered only too well. 'I knew you were a cheeseparer, Fox,' he ground out, 'so I started the wagons rolling as soon as I left my keep. They should be here in a day or two with the year's dues. To try to make up for its being my first tribute in a while, I even put in a couple of flagons of wine I found in my cellars.'
'Don't tell Rihwin that,' Gerin exclaimed.
'The way you're using me now, I hope they've gone to vinegar,' Schild said, scowling still.
'If you want aid from your overlord, you'd best give him service with more than your lips,' Gerin answered, unperturbed at Schild's anger. He went on, 'Speaking of which, though you swore me fealty after I slew Wolfar of the Axe, you've given me precious little.'
'I've demanded precious little till now, either,' Schild retorted.
'That may be so, but the aid I send you is liable to cost me more than this year's dues alone,' Gerin said. 'My other vassals-my true vassals-pay what they owe whether they call on me for aid or not, for they don't know when they'll need me. Collecting all I'm due now would break you, so I shan't try, but what I take from you each year will go up hereafter-and if you don't render it, you'll see my chariots in ways you won't like so well as riding to your rescue.'
Schild's expression was bright with hatred. 'I wish Wolfar had wrung your neck instead of the other way round.'
Gerin's blade hissed free. 'You're welcome to try to amend the result, if you like.'
For a moment, he thought Schild would draw, too. This once, the clean simplicity of combat looked good to him. If he slew Schild, the other's land would pass to him… and if he didn't, he wouldn't have to worry about alliances and feudal dues any more.
But Schild took a step back. Gerin did not think it was from fear. Few barons shrank from a fight on account of that-and the ones who did commonly had enough sense that they didn't go provoking their neighbors. The Fox's reluctant vassal said, 'Even if I slay you and get out of this keep alive, I can't fill your shoes fighting the creatures, worse luck.'
Gerin clapped a hand to his forehead in genuine amazement. He sheathed his sword. 'An argument from policy, by the gods! For that I' ll gouge you less than I would have otherwise-having a neighbor who can think will pay off for itself, one way or another.'
'I have to think you're right about that,' Schild answered. 'I've got one, and it's costing me plenty.'
That crack was almost enough of itself to make Gerin like him. The Fox said, 'Come into the great hall, drink some ale with me, and we'll try to figure out what we can do for you.' He'd turned and taken a couple of steps before he remembered Schild had been less than forthcoming about his son. He kept walking, but resolved not to like or trust his neighbor no matter what sort of cracks Schild made.
Schild poured ale down his throat. He watched Gerin warily, too; coming to the Fox for aid could not have been easy for him. 'How many cars will you send?' he demanded. 'And how soon will you send them? We're hurting badly, and that's the truth. If I'd thought we'd have anything to eat this winter-' He let that hang. No, asking for help hadn't been easy.
Gerin didn't answer right away. He'd been weighing the question even before Schild asked it. 'I want to say eight, but I suppose I can spare ten,' he said at last.
'What, why you tightfisted-' Schild cursed with an inventiveness and a volume that had men running in from the courtyard and coming down from upstairs to see what on earth had gone wrong now.
Van said, 'You don't have a moat, Captain, but shall I chuck him in the ditch for you?'
'No,' Gerin answered. 'He's pitching a fit because he doesn't know all the facts yet. For instance,' he continued with a certain amount of spite, 'I haven't told him the chariots and crew I do send will have to be back here in fifteen days' time. They can sweep his holding, but they can't stay there and fight all the way up till harvest time.'
'That does it!' Schild sprang to his feet. 'I'm for my own lands again, but the gods. And to the five hells with you, Fox, and a murrain on your ten stinking cars and your fifteen stinking days. We' ll manage somehow, and after we do-'
'Sit down and shut up.' Every once in a while, Gerin could strike a tone that produced obedience without thought. He wished he could manage it at will-it was useful. This time it worked; Schild's knees folded and he sat back onto the bench. Gerin went on, 'I can't send more than ten cars because I'm sending others south to open the Elabon Way: Bevon and two of his worthless sons have struck at it and driven my garrisons back. And I'll want the chariots home soon because Aragis the Archer and I have made alliance; he's bringing his forces north so we can strike at Adiatunnus and the monsters together. I want my force of chariotry at full strength for that. Now do you understand, lord Schild?'
'I understand you're the biggest bastard ever spawned in the northlands, lord Gerin,' Schild answered, but the fire had gone out of his voice. He got up again, carried his jack to the pitcher of ale, poured it full, and drained it dry. Only after he'd wiped his mouth and mustache on the sleeve of his tunic did he give his attention back to the Fox. 'You set me up for that tantrum, you son of a whore. You just wanted to see how loud you could make me yell.'
'If it weren't so, I'd deny it,' Gerin said. 'In case you're interested, you yell louder than I thought you could.'
'Truth that,' Van put in. 'I thought one of those monsters was loose in the keep when I heard you roar.'
Schild looked from one of them to the other. 'To the five hells with both of you. Now, when will you send out your chariotry?'
'As soon as I can,' Gerin answered. 'I'll send messengers today to my vassals who have keeps on the western side of my holding. As you'll have noticed, I haven't enough men here myself to make up ten cars, or anything close to that number. I would have, if I didn't need to order crews south against Bevon.' He spread his hands. 'I'm afraid that's what you get, lord Schild, for taking so long to make up your mind you're really in trouble. My men ought to be crossing your frontier about the time your tribute comes in to Fox Keep.'
'Aye, I'd worked that out for myself, thanks,' Schild said. 'You' re not an easy overlord to serve under, lord prince. I console myself by thinking you're fair in what you do.'
'I'll take that,' Gerin said.
The Fox lay beside Selatre, watching the lamp gutter toward extinction. Its red, dying flame cast flickering shadows on the wall of the bedchamber. He let one hand run idly down the smooth length of her torso. He'd felt sated after he made love with Fand. He felt happy now. It had been so long since he'd felt really happy after he'd made love that the difference struck him like a blow.
He wondered how he'd failed to notice when that happy feeling started to slip away while Elise shared his bed. Partly, he suspected, his own stupidity was to blame. And partly, he'd supposed it was simply part of their growing used to each other. That was probably stupid too, now that he thought about it.
When she'd bedded the horseleech after she ran off, had she felt happy afterwards? Gerin rather hoped so.
Selatre snuggled against him, which drove thoughts of Elise, if not altogether out of his head, then at least back into the dark corners where they belonged these days. She laughed a little as she said, 'The time when I thought no man could touch me seems faraway now. I was foolish.'
'No, you weren't.' Gerin shook his head. 'You were doing what was right for you then. On the other hand, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't glad you'd changed your mind.' He bent his head so he could kiss the sweet hollow place where her neck met her shoulder.
