"You know better than that, sublieutenant; I cannot interfere with your private life. I am simply offering you advice, as someone who also joined the army against the wishes of his family and remained estranged from his family for far too long. Believe me when I say that such matters become trivial over the years, in comparison with the memories of love and comfort one received as a child." Wystan took up the paper again and offered it to Carle. "Your father left this for you. It is a letter from your sister."

"I didn"t know that you had a sister," I told Carle afterwards.

"Yes, a younger sister. And you?" Carle looked up from the letter. We were sitting in the mess tent, having eaten our noonday meal. After a diet of nuts and bread and snow-water, even army food tastes good to us.

"Two sisters, aside from the ones who died as babies," I said. "Leda is the eldest of us; she"s married, with a son. My sister Mira will be coming of age soon a or she was, when I left. She"s been insufferable for the past two years, telling Hamar and me how much more she"d enjoy the company of a husband than our company."

"My sister came of age late last winter, around her twelfth birthday," Carle murmured; his gaze had returned to the letter. "I remember her writing me about it at the time."

I nudged closer to him on the bench. "Does she say anything interesting in her letter?"

Carle shook his head. "She never does. The village blacksmith burned his hand ... My mother was ill with stomach pains for a while but is better now ... A n.o.ble came to visit this autumn a old and sharp-tempered, she said. *Old" undoubtedly means my father"s age," Carle added with one of his half-smiles as he folded the letter closed. After a moment, he opened it again.

"And what else?" I prompted.

"Nothing else," Carle said. "That"s all she has written, aside from her usual threats to flay me alive if I come within a day"s ride of her. She still hasn"t forgiven me for leaving without saying goodbye to her." He started to fold the letter, re-opened it, and remained motionless for a while, reading the letter once more.

"There"s something more," I said finally.

Under the loud chatter of the soldiers nearby, Carle said, "Yes, there"s something more. I don"t know what it is yet, though." He raised his eyes to me.

"We"re taking Captain Wystan"s advice, then?" I said.

Carle nodded. "I think I"ll have to go home, at least for a while. You needn"t come, though. You can search us out a city house in the meantime."

"Don"t be foolish," I responded. "Of course I"ll come. Unless-" Belatedly, it occurred to me that Carle might not be eager to introduce a southerner to his family.

I suppose that, if I ever die, Carle will be able to read my final moments from the look in my face. He gave another of his crooked smiles and said lightly, "Your presence is what will make the visit bearable."

The odd thing is, I think he was serious.

The twenty-ninth day of December in the 940th year a.g.l.

It"s early morning. We rested overnight at an inn that"s north of the city. Although Carle"s village is apparently only half a day"s swift ride from the city, neither Carle nor I wanted to go swiftly. We have just enough energy left to stay seated on the horses we borrowed from the army headquarters.

The inn is one of the new-style lodges, with individual chambers for each travelling party, in addition to the common chamber for single men and for travelling parties which can"t afford the individual rooms. The beds in the individual chambers are so broad that they could easily accommodate three men. Since Carle and I have slept in the same room together for over two months now, I was surprised that Carle paid for separate chambers for the two of us. I didn"t realize the reason until I jerked awake last night, as if to the sound of a danger whistle, and heard Carle crying out.

I rushed for his room, of course, but the door was barred. I hammered on it, and the cry cut off. After a moment, Carle spoke in his normal voice.

He did not even ask why I was at the door, but apologized immediately for waking me, saying that he"d been dreaming. I lingered at the door, expecting him to let me in, but after a while I concluded that he was so exhausted from the ride that he"d fallen asleep after his explanation. I was likewise weary, so I returned to my warm bed next to the hearth-fire and fell asleep soon afterwards.

I awoke to Carle"s voice, crying out. Again I rushed for the door; again I found it barred; again my hammering elicited an apology from Carle, but nothing more. Puzzled, I returned to my room and sat by the fire, waiting.

The cry was not long in coming. I tiptoed up to Carle"s door and pressed my ear against it. I could hear s.n.a.t.c.hes of what he was saying. What I heard chilled me more than the night wind whistling down the corridor.

Carle was dreaming that he was being tortured. From what I could make out, it appeared that his captor was a vicious border-breacher; I could hear Carle begging his torturer to stop. I strained for the name of the torturer, but even in his torment, Carle followed patrol custom in calling the breacher *sir," so I could not tell whether the torturer was Emorian or Koretian.

I stood uncertainly outside the door. Eventually, after far too long, the cries died down. I spent the remainder of the night sleepless beside my fire.

When I see the lieutenant next spring, I must ask him whether this was something real that happened to Carle. If it was, and if the man who tortured him was Koretian, then it"s a wonder that Carle ever spoke in friendship to me, much less shared wine with me.

The thirtieth day of December in the 940th year a.g.l.

Peaktop, Carle"s home village, is located atop the southernmost of the signal-fire mountains. It is sprawled across the flat top of the mountain and is a little larger than Mountside. Its income derives mainly from horses and from orchard-fruit, the latter being more valuable than the former, as there are so few trees in Emor.

I learned all this throughout the course of yesterday. My first impression of Carle"s mountain home was that its slopes are far too slippery.

I discovered this because Carle, having evidently decided that we were growing lax in our exercise, left our horses to be escorted to his home by some local country boys he knew, leaving the two of us to climb the side of the mountain, rather than take the easy road up.

I had thought that I knew how to climb mountains, but I"d never before climbed a mountain with a foot of snow on it. The last part of the journey, which required us to climb over a sheer rock with icicles hanging off it, nearly lost me my life, but Carle"s hand grabbed me and hauled me onto safe ground. Then, before I had had a chance to decide whether I would ever breathe again, he demanded my impression of the village.

It was certainly a beautiful sight. Snow clung in soft clumps to the peaked rooftops of the village houses, lined all in a row along the curving road, but for an enormous house jutting up on a mound a the baron"s hall, I supposed. Below the house was a vast orchard, lined on one side by a graveyard, and beyond that was a pasture with horses kicking the snow into the air as they raced to and fro.

I took a step in the direction of the village, but Carle smiled and shook his head, then led us down the shorter path to the pasture. As we crunched our way through the snow a soldiers" boots come in handy in Emor a I saw that the horses were being watched by a young man about Carle"s age, who called out to them as they rode past, causing them to swerve their path in a seemingly ordered manner. Sitting at his feet, peacefully watching the horses" hooves thunder just paces away, was a dog with golden-red fur.

It caught sight of us at the same moment that the young man did, and bounded toward us, barking fiercely. I hesitated, unsure whether to draw my sword against this attack, but Carle merely went down on one knee and held out his hand to the dog. She leapt upon him and, in the next few moments, tried to drown him with her tongue.

The young man followed close behind. He skidded to a halt, churning up snow against his winter breeches, and smiled down at Carle and the dog. "She remembers you," he said.

"I had hoped she had forgotten me by now," said Carle, giving the dog a final rub behind the ears as he rose to his feet. "She belongs to you now."

The young man shook his head. Like Carle, he had a touch of red to his hair, though his complexion was darker than Carle"s snow-white face. "Forget the boy who raised her from a pup? That"s not likely." He gave a shy grin and added, "Only you"re not a boy now. I hear you"ve been fighting snow demons in the mountains."

"They fled at the sight of my sword," said Carle with mock ferocity. "And you? How have you been, sir?"

Something flickered in the young man"s expression, and I thought for a moment he would voice his thought. Then he shrugged his hands and said, "Well enough. I"m to be married, you know."

Carle"s smile grew broad. "Felicitations! I had not heard; my sister never tells me the important news. Do I know the fortunate woman?"

A blush touched the cheek of the young man. "It"s Almida." Then, hastily: "It"s all right; you may laugh. I know that I"ll be the hen-pecked husband that bards sing about. I really don"t mind. After everything I have to do in the village, it will be nice to come home and be ordered around."

"I firmly agree with you, sir," said Carle, who showed no signs of laughing. "There is nothing I despise more than a woman who impotently allows herself to be bullied about by her husband. When I am married, it will be to a woman of character, like Almida."

The young man"s look of grat.i.tude could have spread to the far borders of the empire. "I"ve missed you," he said frankly. "Are you planning to visit long? You could stay at the hall if you like. We were always able to find room for you in the old days."

"Offer me no temptations." Carle shook his head. "I would like nothing better, but ... Well, if nothing else, you would not have room for my partner here." Then, as the young man turned his shy gaze toward me, Carle added, "I apologize for the lack of an introduction. Sir, this is- No, wait, I see your father coming. I will make my introductions once he has arrived."

I turned toward the pasture gate and saw a man striding across the fields, seemingly immune to the danger of being trampled by the prancing horses. Unlike the young man, he had tossed his cloak back, and I could see the silver glint of his tunic"s border. He was smiling even before he reached us. Putting his arm around the young man"s shoulders, he said, "Carle, this is a welcome sight. Your letters to Myles are hardly fair exchange for the pleasure of your presence. I suppose you have come because of your sister"s betrothal?"

Carle, who had been on the point of gesturing toward me, grew suddenly still. After a moment, he said in a voice as controlled as though he were on patrol, "No, sir. I had not heard."

"Ah." The baron"s arm slid from his son"s shoulders, and his face grew serious. "Yes, your father has been searching for a suitable match since last winter, and he has finally made up his mind, I understand."

"Do you know the man, sir?" Carle"s voice continued to be steady, but I could see a b.u.mp in his cloak-cloth which suggested that, underneath his cloak, he was gripping his sword hilt.

"I have met him on a few occasions. He is Vogler, baron of a prosperous village in the Central Provinces. Because his first wife died without issue, he has been looking for a young wife to bear him heirs. From the point of view of the bloodline, it is an excellent match."

"And from the point of view of character?" Carle continued to stand as stiff as a sentry.

"His character ..." The baron hesitated for a moment, then said quietly, "He is a man much like your father."

Myles"s gaze pa.s.sed from Carle to the baron and then back again; otherwise he remained silent. Only the dog seemed immune to the atmosphere and chose this moment to start bounding toward one of the horses. Myles quickly called her back; by the time she had returned, panting happily and nuzzling Carle"s legs, the baron was saying, "But I see that you have brought a guest with you."

"Yes, sir." Carle turned toward me with a gesture so easy as to suggest that he had discarded all other thoughts from his mind, though I knew him better than that. "Sir, may I present Adrian, Soldier of the Chara"s Border Mountain Patrol? He has been my partner this autumn. Adrian, I present you to Gervais, Baron of Peaktop."

"I am pleased to meet you, sir," I said, touching my hand to heart and forehead.

Myles"s smile dropped away, followed by an expression of uncertainty. He looked toward his father, who was so far from smiling that I expected him to call for soldiers at any moment. Beside me, Carle said hastily, "Sir, I ask that you forgive him. He has only recently emigrated, and he is still learning Emorian ways."

The baron"s gaze continued to pierce me like a spearhead. "I would have thought," he said slowly, "that showing respect for one"s betters was the custom in all of the Three Lands." He glanced over at his son, who was looking mutely unhappy, and his gaze relaxed. "Carle, we must go; Myles and I have business this day to tend to. I hope that you will join us for supper before you leave." He gave me one final, dark look and added, "You are welcome also, Soldier Adrian. I suggest, though, that you become better acquainted with the customs of your new land."

I mumbled something that I hoped sounded properly submissive as the baron and his son turned their backs. They had gone a spear"s length forward when Carle"s hand closed upon my arm with a grip like a jackal"s jaw.

He marched us grimly toward the north gate of the pasture. The dog tried to follow us for several paces, but Carle shooed her back, and we left her at the gate, wagging her tail as she watched us leave. I waited until we were well into the orchard before asking, "What did I do?"

"What did you do?" Carle blasted me a look that matched the baron"s. "Adrian, you gave him the free-man"s greeting! Have you forgotten you"re a lesser free-man?"

Actually, I had, but this didn"t seem the moment to mention that. "I know I"m only supposed to give the free-man"s greeting to my equals," I said, "but surely your baron must have realized I was only trying to be friendly. In Koretia-"

Carle sighed, tossed back his cloak, and drew his sword. "Do you see this?" he said.

His sword looked all too sharp in the winter light that fell through the trees. I swallowed and nodded.

"If we lived in Koretia, I would have had to fight a dozen duels on your behalf by now, just to keep you from being killed by all the men you"ve insulted since arriving in this land. Be grateful we live in Emor, where people show more patience." With a grin, Carle sheathed his sword, then turned to catch the bundle of brightness that had flung itself upon him.

After a moment, I identified the scarlet-cloaked bundle as a girl. She had no sooner kissed Carle than she hit him on the side of his head with her fist. Then she stood back and contemplated him with furious eyes.

Carle rubbed his ear. "I"m glad to see you also, Erlina."

"You took your time getting here," she responded, glaring at him as she placed her fists against her slender hips.

"I"d have arrived here sooner if you"d been less subtle in your letters," Carle rejoined, scooping snow off the ground to place against his ear.

"I told you last winter that I"d come of age. You should have known what that meant. What else did you expect me to say, with him reading all my letters?"

"I didn"t foresee him moving so quickly-"

"I"m of age," she said firmly. "I"m a woman, though unlike you I didn"t run out the door the minute I reached adulthood, leaving everyone else in the household to deal with him. You ought to be ashamed of yourself."

"So you"ve told me many times," said Carle, giving her one of his spell-binding smiles.

Erlina seemed unmoved by such charms. "And you don"t write enough. You don"t write enough even to Myles; he"s told me how much he misses hearing from you. He says you"re even calling him *sir" now, which he thinks is so foolish, though of course he"ll never tell you, because he thinks you"re much too wise to be-"

"Erlina." Carle took hold of the young woman"s hands and held them lightly. He said quietly, "Have you signed the betrothal papers yet?"

Erlina continued to frown at him, but she bit her lip before saying, "I had to. He was blaming Mother for my stubbornness."

Carle sighed and released her. "I"ll talk to him."

"It won"t do any good."

"I"ll talk to Gervais also. Perhaps there"s a law we can use to annul the betrothal."

"If there was one, you"d have thought of it by now," she said directly. "You know far more law than Gervais does. You"re too late, Carle. And you"re rude, too; you haven"t introduced me to your friend."

Carle rolled his eyes toward the leaves above us. "This extremely difficult creature that you see before you is my sister, Adrian. I"d present her to you, but she"d probably claw your face to pieces."

"Don"t be silly." Erlina spread the skirt of her gown and gave me a low curtsey. "Is Carle this much trouble in the army? You have my permission to hit him if you want," she told me hopefully.

Carle groaned. "One of these days, Erlina, I"ll teach you the Law of Army Rank. Until then- Heart of Mercy, he"s coming." His voice grew suddenly low. "You"d better go, Erlina. He"ll want to be the first to greet us."

She was gone then, as quickly as she"d come, like a bright-winged bird fled to her nest. For a moment, all that I could hear was silence. Then, with no warning of his approach by sound or sight, a man emerged from the trees.

The first thought I had was how much he looked like Carle. Though his hair was beginning to silver over like frost, his short locks were the same shade of red as Carle"s, and he even had Carle"s crooked smile. The charm was there too; I felt it even before he turned to gaze at me. Then, evidently feeling that his son deserved the first welcome, Carle"s father said, "I knew that you would come home in the end."

His voice was warm. By contrast, Carle"s was as chill as the ice on the bark as he said, "Yes, sir. I have brought a guest with me."

"So I see." Carle"s words caused his father"s smile to deepen. The older man turned to me and touched his heart and forehead, saying, "Verne son of Carle. You are welcome, young man. You are one of my son"s friends, I take it."

My hand was halfway to my breast by the time he finished speaking a after all, there was no question here about rank a but something made me hesitate. Perhaps it was only the remembrance of Gervais"s dark look. Quickly I turned the greeting into a bow. I was rewarded a I saw upon raising my head again a with an approving look from Verne.

"Well," he said to Carle, "I see that the army is not short of courtesy. You"ll have learned many useful skills in the patrol, I"m sure. I am eager to learn of them."

Coming from a man who had opposed his son"s entrance into the army, this could be nothing other than an apology, but to my surprise, Carle did not follow up on his father"s words with his own apology for having departed the family home without leave. "Yes, sir," he said in a flat voice. "I am permitted to visit, then?"

"Have I not made that manifest?" The smiling man embraced the orchard with his arms, as though he would offer all its bounty to Carle. "You are most welcome, Carle; I have been looking forward to seeing you and talking with you. Now, as to your guest ... The guest chamber is taken at the moment, I"m afraid. Your friend will have to stay in your main bed-chamber. I"m sure you remember the way to your extra chamber."

A hiss that might have been an indrawn breath or the whisper of a blade against its sheath came from the direction of Carle. "I do, sir," he said in a voice as taut as a rope around a bound breacher"s wrist. "Shall I show him to the house now?"

"Yes, that would be wise; our dinner will be ready in an hour. I"ll just go now and tell the cook of your arrival. Your mother," he added as an afterthought as he turned to go, "will be glad to see you. She has much to say to you, as I"m sure you know." And he gave another of his deep smiles and walked away, as silently as he had come. It occurred to me, as he disappeared between the slender trunks, that Verne had not asked my name.

It was a while before I could think of what to say. As we walked slowly through the orchard, ducking snow-laden branches, Carle had an expression on his face as unrevealing as at my trial. Finally I said, "He is very gracious to guests."

"Yes, he usually is," replied Carle, his eye on the building that was beginning to loom above the tree-line. "I counted on that in bringing you here."

I was tongue-tied for a moment more, then said, "Your house must be large if you have two chambers to yourself."

The red in Carle"s hair seemed to flow in that moment to his face; his ears grew scarlet. After a moment, my gaze followed his to the great house above us, perched atop a mound.

I stopped dead, my gaze rising up the four floors and taking in the number of windows in the stone building. Some of them, I now saw, were covered with gla.s.s.

I turned back to Carle, who was avoiding my eye so a.s.siduously that I laughed. "No wonder you were comfortable at Neville"s home. And this orchard ... ?"