Free King's Shield by Sherwood Smith Page A

the rain the windows were all wide open. Everything here smelled of horse, grass, and wildflowers.
    When the yellow-haired Jarl appeared in the doorway to join them for breakfast, the man with him looked at first like another tough Marlovan rider. Then Tau, Jeje, and Signi saw the ruby earrings and recognized familiar brown eyes. It was with difficulty that their minds inscribed a palimpsest of their Inda over this strange warrior. His sun-streaked brown hair, usually escaping in curls from his neglected sailor’s queue, had been pulled up tight into a horsetail, which emphasized the hard bones of his face.
    He wore one of those fitted coats of severe lines that splendidly graced shoulders and chest, but it seemed to separate him into another identity—except for the sight of those earrings, which Tau and Jeje knew were emblems of the terrible cost he’d paid as a commander fighting pirates.
    Then he trod into the room, wincing at each step. Reality, so often absurd and thereby curiously steadying, reasserted itself.
    “No kicking the boots off,” Cherry-Stripe warned as he followed Inda into the dining room. “Your feet’ll get used to ’em in a day or two.”
    Buck sat down. “Eat. You may as well wait until tomorrow, unless you’re all good at riding into a storm that smells like it’s gonna drop some snow.”
    Cherry-Stripe rubbed his hands vigorously. “Roads are getting worse. Everyone’s been west fighting pirates. Wait until the day after tomorrow unless you want to swim. You can leave before dawn next day. We’ll send you with Runners, so you can take our post horses. Better, use the king’s, because if you aren’t on King’s Business, then I’m a Venn.” He grinned. “So this morning, you run the drill, pirate style.”
    Inda snorted. Then saw by the intensity of the brothers’ gazes that they were serious. “All right.”
    “Good.” Buck clapped his hands and rubbed them. “Now, first things first. Me an’ the boys talked this morn. You can guess that becoming king didn’t make all Evred’s problems go away.” Inda opened his hand, and Buck went on. “We think you should know some of what he’s facing.”
    The brothers deferred to Cama, who said, “Besides the embargo, the wreckage of the coast, the army spread too thin. Oh, and the lack of magic renewals.”
    Inda grimaced, not telling them that Iasca Leror’s problems had been gloated over elsewhere in the world. “Go on.”
    “There’s trouble at home. My brother Horsebutt at the head.” Cama’s voice sharpened with derision; Stalgrid Tya-Vayir was one of the few who hated his academy nickname, but everyone used it when not in his presence. Especially Cama, after enduring a lifetime of bullying. “He’s using the excuse of lack of trade to pressure Evred into revoking the royal portion of guild taxes during wartime, since the guilds are already sending warriors.”
    Inda said, “But isn’t the guild portion traditional?”
    “ ‘Traditional’ since we moved into castles and figured out what guilds were,” Mran Cassad observed wryly.
    Buck flicked up the back of his hand. “That’s what Horsebutt gives for tradition—unless it serves him. He also knows the king can’t take over paying warriors in the field, unless he gets money. But he thinks because Evred is young that he’s weak, that he’ll give in and the Jarls will get concessions that make them stronger. And Inda, there isn’t a single jarl family that doesn’t have a flight or more of riders out there somewhere, helping with the defense, so the question of who’s going to pay for their food and fodder concerns everyone.”
    “But can’t Barend belay that? Or Hawkeye, if he’s doing some of the Harskialdna work?”
    Belay? The Marlovans looked puzzled, but let it pass. “Barend doesn’t command anyone’s loyalty. They don’t know him,” Buck said.
    Inda scratched his scalp. Binding his hair up hurt his scalp fiercely, though he wouldn’t tell