Afterward they sprawled on the furs before her fireplace and got down to serious business. Haima unrolled a map pricked into deerskin with a hot needle and Blade showed her the planned Jaghdi campaign.
«The army on the Adrim isn't going to be much of a problem by itself,» she said. «We can give up the lowland along the river and hold here with only a handful of men.» A work-calloused forefinger stabbed at a narrow pass leading up from the Adrim into the central valleys of Elstan. «The Jaghdi cavalry is the real problem. Solve that and we've won the war.» She looked at the mark Blade had made to show the planned Jaghdi camp. «That's the Kettle of the Winds there. We use the cliffs behind the flatland for the Stone Death.»
«The what?»
«The Stone Death? Didn't Daimarz tell you?»
Her tone was so accusing that Blade felt he had to defend the woodcutter. «He's been busy, Haima. His father needs-«
«He needs to remember that you can be trusted now. The Stone Death is simple. We take the man to the top of one of the cliffs and throw him off.»
«Oh.» That explained why Daimarz had called it a «good death.» It would be quick, at least.
Haima looked at the map again, then closed her eyes as if she were trying to conjure up a picture of the Kettle of the Winds. «That bitch Tressana has a good eye for land. We can't come at anyone camped on the flats there.»
«You could make your own camp there first.»
«We might, if we had enough men. Until all the guilds speak with one voice, we couldn't put more than two thousand men there.» Blade realized that wouldn't be enough to hold for long against several times as many cavalry. The Jaghdi might not even bother to destroy them, and instead besiege them in their own camp with half the cavalry while the other half continued to march through Elstan.
«If we could just be sure of reaching the camp with enough of the Living Fire-«began Haima irritably. Then she saw Blade's blank expression and swore. «Didn't Daimarz tell you about that either?» She held up a hand to silence Blade's new attempts to make excuses for the woodcutter. «One of these days I'm going to take that boy's pants down and spank him until his ass is red!»
Without any prompting from Blade she went on to describe the Living Fire. Blade recognized it as what the woodcutters must have used on those three rogues. It explained the smoke, the tar-like smell, and the soot on the men. The Living Fire was something like Greek fire or napalm. It was based on «rock oil,» it clung where it fell, and water only spread it. A good dose of the Living Fire scattered over the Jaghdi camp would probably make a first-class mess, and if it landed among unsaddled rolghas…
Blade was so absorbed by the idea of panicking the whole Jaghdi army's mounts that Haima had to run her fingers and lips over him for quite a while before he would pay attention to her. When they'd finished this time, she raised herself on one elbow and looked down at him. The firelight playing on her red hair seemed to make her face and breasts glow.
«Blade, how long do you intend to stay in Elstan?»
Blade answered cautiously. «Until I must travel onward, or return to my own land of England. If my queen orders me to return, it is my duty to go.»
«And if those orders don't come?»
Blade had the feeling that she wanted to hear him say he'd be staying for many years. He knew that she wasn't the sort of woman to forgive a lie, and that it was impossible to tell how long it would be before the computer drew him back to Home Dimension. Even more cautiously, he said, «It could be several years.»
«Ah. Long enough to marry Chaia and give her children, then.» Startled, Blade could only nod. Haima went on. «Chaia is beautiful but willful. Those men who do not fear her fear me. Only the most courageous of men would be suitable husbands.»
«Is Daimarz one of those men, by any chance?»
She laughed. «You see clearly. Yes. He was the first I would have chosen, as soon as Chaia came of age. But he refused, and said so much against both her and me that he drove away others. Now Chaia is two years past the lawful age, with no husband. If you could take her and give her my grandchildren before you returned to England, I would be sure of a place in the future of Elstan.»
«How old is she?»
«She will be fourteen next month.»
«Fourteen!» The exclamation slipped out before Blade could stop himself. The idea of playing stud to help Haima continue a dynasty wasn't entirely unreasonable, but making love to a girl of fourteen-!
«Is she too old to be a maiden?» asked Haima.
«Too old?» Blade managed to keep himself from gaping. «No. The law of England says no girl can be made a woman before she is sixteen.»
«England is a land of feeble women, or is it that your girls do not have the size and shape of women before they are sixteen?»
«Most of them don't.»
«Ah. Ours become women before they are twelve.»
She explained that ever since the wars the Elstani called the Time of Death, an Elstani woman was usually mature enough to bear children safely at twelve. She normally married at thirteen, bore her two or three children before she was twenty, then practiced some craft or skill into old age.
This sounded to Blade like the result of a mutation, or perhaps warfare with DNA-altered bacteria. However it happened, it largely explained the position of women in Elstan. They could be both mothers and productive workers in a single normal lifespan. In fact, with the natural advantages its women had, Blade was surprised that Elstan wasn't a matriarchy.
The explanation didn't make the idea of marrying a fourteen-year-old any more appealing to Blade. He frowned, as if he was examining the idea from all sides. Then he said, «What if we lose the war and your daughter is left with children to bring up in Jaghdi slavery?»
«She will kill herself and them before bowing to the Jaghdi,» said Haima coldly. «And we shall not lose this war if you agree to take Chaia to wife. If you do, I will join my voice to the woodcutters to unite Elstan. If we stand together the Jaghdi are doomed.»
Blade remembered what Daimarz said, about their only needing the help of one more guild to begin preparing Elstan for war. The weavers and woodcutters might be able to do enough by themselves. Their union would certainly encourage the other guilds to join in. Certainly Haima was promising more and asking less than any of the other guilds so far.
«Then join your voice to the woodcutters, Haima. I will take Chaia as my wife, but after we have won the first battle.»
They drank beer and bargained for nearly an hour. In the end they agreed that Blade and Chaia would swear betrothal and exchange rings at once, but the marriage would not be consummated until after the first battle. That was good enough for Blade. He wouldn't have to fight both the Jaghdi and his own scruples at the same time.
«The first thing I'd like to do is go to the Kettle of the Winds,» he began. «If I see-«
«No, the first thing you can do is this,» she said, guiding his hands to her breasts. Blade didn't think about the war again until he was drifting off to sleep, his head pillowed more comfortably than usual on Haima's breasts. He thought he was standing at the foot of the cliffs in the Kettle of the Winds, but they kept advancing and receding in a cloud of dark smoke, while giant bats swooped down to claw at his eyes.
«How do I look, Jollya?»
«Like a queen riding to battle, Your Grace,» said Jollya.
«I should hope so,» said Tressana. She gripped her stirrup, and Jollya's hands clasped under her boots lifted her into the saddle. With one hand she held the bridle, while the other rose in a signal to her musicians. The silver horns blared, then the drums joined in, and finally the cheers of the crowd drowned out all the musicians.