stopped. Harald glanced at Hrolf, slid from his horse. Hrolf leaned down, caught the bridle, held it while Harald walked forward, empty hand raised.
"We come in peace."
"In peace welcome then." Middle-aged, graying hair, wide shoulders—by dress and speech a farmer. Harald hesitated a moment, signed to Hrolf, whistled. The mare trotted over, followed by the packhorse; he led them through the gate. Hrolf rode. Inside the wall the usual scatter of houses and huts, eight or ten new cottages and a surprising number of people. The wall had a walkway along the inside, almost a man's height below the top. A sentry over the gate, another near the middle of each wall. At one side of the gate, next to the stairs leading up, an orderly stack of spears.
"Will you join us for dinner? The boys will take your horses."
Hrolf looked at Harald, Harald nodded. Their host led them into one of the largest of the houses.
"Rest a minute; I'll get you something to drink."
He went through the door at the back; there was a sound of voices. In a few minutes he was back with a clay pitcher of beer.
"You'll be dry from the ride. Dinner soon."
He ate with his guests at the small table—wheat bread, a thick stew of lentils and root vegetables. They shifted to benches by the fire while the rest of the family replaced them at table.
"Long ride?"
Harald nodded.
"Four days over Northgate, three after."
"Welcome to rest here a few days."
"Kind of you. Stay the night, with your leave. On our way in the morning."
"We could use a couple of trained men."
"Done all right for yourselves. Wall looks solid. People hereabouts can use bows. Unless you're expecting a legion at your front door."
"Bandits. Some say they're King's men, some don't. Not much difference that we've seen. Lord's hold is way up in the mountains. We lost a few folk, more cattle, decided to take care of ourselves. We've got spears, bows."
"Good luck to you. Should be home by summer—could pass the word. If two or three of our lads come across, help guard and train, can you feed them through the winter?"
"No problem. A couple of men, with armor, who knew what they were doing would help a lot."
"You could make armor for your men."
"From what?"
"Westkin mostly use hardened leather—not as hard as iron, but light. We use it too, mostly for the horses."
They spent the evening discussing leather hardening and showing their host how to lay out and lace a lamellar coat, the night in their host's bed, at his insistence. After a breakfast of bread and porridge, they fetched the horses. Harald and Hrolf mounted; their host's wife passed up a sack—bread, hard baked to keep, and sausage.
"Food for your ride."
"And many thanks. You or yours have cause to come west, we're the first holding over the pass."
Their host gave him a long look. Harald nodded; they rode out of the village.
Cat's Claws
Early shall he rise who has designs
On another's land or life
Two more days brought them to where plains turned to forest, running up in hills and valleys into the eastern range. They forded the Caldbeck, turned south on the road that paralleled the forest edge. Before sunset they were rubbing down their horses in the stable of a small inn where the main road met the road running up the valley to Eston and the King's castle. A clatter of hoofs in the courtyard and a loud voice:
"Beer and food. Tell them to take care of the horses. We'll see you inside."
Footsteps went off. Another voice yelled for the stableboy. After a long wait he appeared, was cursed for a lazy fool, started to bring the horses in one by one, muttering under his breath. He saw the two cats, stopped with a start. Harald spoke first.
"Not friendly folk."
The boy looked at them.
"Do you need your horses taken care of too?"
"Grateful for some hay in the manger, grain if you've got it. We can pay. Other than that they should be all right. No hurry."
The boy nodded, led the horse into a
"We come in peace."
"In peace welcome then." Middle-aged, graying hair, wide shoulders—by dress and speech a farmer. Harald hesitated a moment, signed to Hrolf, whistled. The mare trotted over, followed by the packhorse; he led them through the gate. Hrolf rode. Inside the wall the usual scatter of houses and huts, eight or ten new cottages and a surprising number of people. The wall had a walkway along the inside, almost a man's height below the top. A sentry over the gate, another near the middle of each wall. At one side of the gate, next to the stairs leading up, an orderly stack of spears.
"Will you join us for dinner? The boys will take your horses."
Hrolf looked at Harald, Harald nodded. Their host led them into one of the largest of the houses.
"Rest a minute; I'll get you something to drink."
He went through the door at the back; there was a sound of voices. In a few minutes he was back with a clay pitcher of beer.
"You'll be dry from the ride. Dinner soon."
He ate with his guests at the small table—wheat bread, a thick stew of lentils and root vegetables. They shifted to benches by the fire while the rest of the family replaced them at table.
"Long ride?"
Harald nodded.
"Four days over Northgate, three after."
"Welcome to rest here a few days."
"Kind of you. Stay the night, with your leave. On our way in the morning."
"We could use a couple of trained men."
"Done all right for yourselves. Wall looks solid. People hereabouts can use bows. Unless you're expecting a legion at your front door."
"Bandits. Some say they're King's men, some don't. Not much difference that we've seen. Lord's hold is way up in the mountains. We lost a few folk, more cattle, decided to take care of ourselves. We've got spears, bows."
"Good luck to you. Should be home by summer—could pass the word. If two or three of our lads come across, help guard and train, can you feed them through the winter?"
"No problem. A couple of men, with armor, who knew what they were doing would help a lot."
"You could make armor for your men."
"From what?"
"Westkin mostly use hardened leather—not as hard as iron, but light. We use it too, mostly for the horses."
They spent the evening discussing leather hardening and showing their host how to lay out and lace a lamellar coat, the night in their host's bed, at his insistence. After a breakfast of bread and porridge, they fetched the horses. Harald and Hrolf mounted; their host's wife passed up a sack—bread, hard baked to keep, and sausage.
"Food for your ride."
"And many thanks. You or yours have cause to come west, we're the first holding over the pass."
Their host gave him a long look. Harald nodded; they rode out of the village.
Cat's Claws
Early shall he rise who has designs
On another's land or life
Two more days brought them to where plains turned to forest, running up in hills and valleys into the eastern range. They forded the Caldbeck, turned south on the road that paralleled the forest edge. Before sunset they were rubbing down their horses in the stable of a small inn where the main road met the road running up the valley to Eston and the King's castle. A clatter of hoofs in the courtyard and a loud voice:
"Beer and food. Tell them to take care of the horses. We'll see you inside."
Footsteps went off. Another voice yelled for the stableboy. After a long wait he appeared, was cursed for a lazy fool, started to bring the horses in one by one, muttering under his breath. He saw the two cats, stopped with a start. Harald spoke first.
"Not friendly folk."
The boy looked at them.
"Do you need your horses taken care of too?"
"Grateful for some hay in the manger, grain if you've got it. We can pay. Other than that they should be all right. No hurry."
The boy nodded, led the horse into a
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