The soldiers grinned, but didn't say the things they usually would. Rudi was glad. He didn't mind bawdy humor even when he didn't see the point, and there was plenty of it back home, but here it had an edge he didn't like at all, or fully understand.
Tiphaine smiled slightly. "If we're going to swim, we should have a fire ready for when we get out. The water's cold."
They built one a little way up the shore-the soldiers and the varlet had to take turns going well away for their dip, and stand at a distance with their backs turned while Rudi and the others came up out of the water to warm themselves near the fire.
"Why?" Rudi asked, throwing off the towel and reaching for his clothes.
"Because they're men," Mathilda said.
"Well, so am I," Rudi said reasonably.
"No, you're a boy. It's all right until your voice breaks. And they're commoners, even if the warriors are Associates. We're nobles."
"I'm not," Rudi said. "Delia isn't either."
"Well, you're sorta like a noble-I mean, your mom's the Chief of the Mackenzies, right? That's like being a count or something, so you're a viscount."
"No, being Chief is not like being a count!" he said indignantly.
"I know. I said sorta like. And Delia can be here because she's a servant, and a girl."
"Oh. Weird," Rudi said. "You've got some really strange geasa here, Matti. And Delia's here to fish and swim and play with us, isn't she?"
"Oh, no, young lord," Delia said-grinning as she came out of the water and wrapped herself in a towel. "I wouldn't dream of doing anything so presbumptuous."
"Insolent wench," Tiphaine said calmly, following her to the fire.
Rudi finished dressing and galloped his horse up and down the shore with Mathilda by him, then came back to the pier; they hobbled the mounts and threw a Frisbee around for a while before they got out fishing rods and folding chairs. Tiphaine was already there, with a fair-sized trout hanging in the water with a sharpened twig through its gills. The two cast their fly-lures out, and settled down to watch the water as the last shreds of morning mist burned off it, enjoying the plop of occasional fish jumping, the flight of wildfowl over the water and up into the steep green trees:
"So, this is fly-fishing," Delia said, after a few minutes. "When does something happen?"
"Something is happening," Tiphaine said from her recliner, making another cast. "We're fishing."
"It looks a lot like sitting staring at the water to me, my lady," she said. "We could do that at the millpond."
She got a book out of the picnic baskets and began reading aloud, pausing whenever anyone got a bite. Rudi pricked his ears with interest even though she stumbled over a word now and then; it was something like the older old-time stories, and there were even witches in it-though not good ones. And the names:
"Isn't that name a lot like yours, Lady d'Ath?"
"It's the same. When I was entered on the Association rolls I took a new one; a lot of people do that."
"People in the Clan do, too, when they're Initiated."
Tiphaine nodded. "And they had the same custom in the Society, I think, except that back then they kept the old name too. Mine was: Collette, originally. We picked the new ones out of a hat."
"It's a pretty name, my lady," Delia said.
"Yes, Lady Sandra thought so. But the character named that in the book is totally lame; all she does is get raped by a bandit named Joris, have a baby- who eventually kills Joris when it grows up-and then get massacred by some peasants. I would have picked Herudis or better still Lys, but in the book Lys is a witch and that wouldn't be : prudent. I think those books would be on the Index if they weren't favorites of the consort; she even had them reprinted. She named half the younger set in the Household out of them, it's quite a fad."
"Shall I get the food ready?" Delia said, looking a little uneasy. "The fire's down to nice hot coals."
Rudi pitched in to help, ignoring the girl's objections when she tried to shoo him away Mathilda looked a little guilty, and helped the men-at-arms clean the trout. Evidently anything to do with wild game was sufficiently noble, and Rudi got away with helping-just-because a picnic was like field cooking, which a warrior could do if servants were short.
Weird people, he thought again. Work is work. Everyone has to work, or should, or how do things get done?
The food was hamburgers in folds of waxed muslin, ready to be peeled off onto the grill, fresh pork sausages with sage and garlic, rolls and onions, a salad of pickled vegetables and early greens, and a honey cake with dried fruit and nuts in it. They added the trout, lightly brushed with butter, which was the best part of all, the flesh white and flaky and delicate. Bors-the senior man-at-arms-grinned at Rudi as he loaded a tray with food to take to his men.
"I'm glad it's Lady d'Ath who got the fief," he said. "Even though she's working us until we drop. I thought it was sort of funny, at first, you know, a woman as lord. But she's tough as nails, and she knows how to look after the troops- I know nobles who wouldn't have thought to bring anything along for the rest of us, or just cheese and bread. Maybe that's why they wanted the little princess here with her, to learn that sort of thing."
"A Chief or an Armsman has to look after the warriors first," Rudi said seriously. That was something all his teachers agreed on. "He should never rest or eat in the field before they do, or sleep warm and dry when they can't."
The soldier gave him a grave, approving nod. Rudi took his plate to sit beside Mathilda on the pier, looking out over the blue, unrestful water, where the wind cuffed white from the chop. He tucked in; the morning and the swim had given him an appetite, and some types of food always tasted better cooked over an open fire in wild country. After he'd satisfied the first pangs of hunger and was addressing a piece of cake he noticed: something.
What is it? he thought.
Tiphaine had been standing as she ate a hamburger, looked eastward towards the earth dam that held back the waters of Hag Lake, with a frown on her face. Rudi followed her gaze; there were a lot of ducks and geese taking to the sky there. Suddenly she flicked the remains of the food into the water and walked over to her courser, tightening the girths and slipping the bridle over its head.
"Bors!" she said, swinging into the saddle and reining around. "Fayard! Alan! Get everyone ready."
She set the horse at the upslope northward. Rudi felt a strumming inside, as if he were a string of the lute that lay abandoned by the lounger. The man-at-arms and the crossbowman did what they'd been told, with a quick, rough efficiency; Delia's eyes were wide with concern, and Mathilda's sparkled with excitement.
"What is it?" she said.
Rudi shook his head. Tiphaine had spurred up through a belt of light forest and out onto open meadow. That made her doll-tiny with nearly a mile's distance, and hard to see through the trees; he could see her coming back all right though, because she did it with reckless speed and casual skill. When she pulled up by the remnants of their fire her face had gone tight and hard, the ice gray eyes as blank as glass.
"Abandon the packhorses," she said calmly. "Armed men headed this way, a dozen of them, most of a conroi -lancers in Protectorate gear, moving fast. And they've got the covers still on their shields."
Bors swung into the saddle. "All lancers?" he said. "I'd have thought some crossbows would be a good idea, here, for support-it's a bit broken."
He didn't seem surprised; the Protectorate's nobility had their own internal feuds, and raid and skirmish weren't unknown by any means.
"Not if they're after the princess," Tiphaine said. "They wouldn't risk hurting her; the Lord Protector would keep anyone who did that alive-for months and months after they wanted to die. Now let's see what we can do about getting her away."
The man-at-arms grinned; Rudi could see a little fear in his eyes, but it was way back. "I knew life would get less boring once you took over, my lady."