He kept his thoughts there to a raised eyebrow and did not say: the Grand Constable and Lady Delia don?t make you frown that way, now!
Saving things like incest or oaths of fidelity Mackenzies just didn?t care who lay with who or how, as long as all parties were of age and consenting. The Goddess Herself had said All acts of love and pleasure are My rituals. Catholics had more things that were geasa, forbidden. Sins, in their terms. In his experience they also broke their taboos more often than his clansfolk did, and were more likely to practice hypocrisy, and also to wrack themselves with guilt.
Indeed, sometimes they?re happier to wallow in guilt at a sin than to avoid it in the first place! I don?t know exactly how the Norrheimers arrange such matters, but they?re more straitlaced than we, I think. How most tribes of humankind do make tangles for themselves!
A snort told him Mathilda had been following his thoughts with uncomfortable precision. That had been happening more and more; they?d always been close, but now they?d been so long in each other?s sporrans it was becoming a little eerie at times. ?It just struck me,? he said casually,?that if I?m to be High King of all Montival, it won?t do to be saying: Well, and how simple it would be, if only you poor deluded fools would do things sensibly, as Mackenzies do!? ?I can remember how much doing that made everyone love you in Association territory,? she said dryly, and nudged him in the ribs.?A couple of times.? ?Well, I get on well enough with Father Ignatius,? he said.?And Abbot Dmwoski at Mt. Angel.? ?That?s not going to help you with all the Catholics,? Mathilda said.?I like the Order of the Shield myself-they?re mostly very holy men, and to tell you the truth I think Father Ignatius is a saint-but a lot of the secular clergy and some of the other Orders really dislike them, so you can?t show them too much favor. You?ll have to watch that.? ?I?ll have you to watch it for me, praise the Gods!?
She shook her head vehemently.?No, Rudi. Artos! You?ll need to handle the Church directly, and not just in Portland?s territory. I can be Lady Protector there, but you?ll have to deal with the Archbishop-Cardinal; he?ll be Rome?s man to head the Church in the whole realm. That?s not just… preaching and the sacraments… that?s land, that?s wealth and influence, that?s power. It?s the only two universities in Montival apart from Corvallis, too.?
Rudi mock-groaned.?Next you?ll be saying I need to think about taxes!? ?You do,? Mathilda said bluntly.?A King needs his own revenues, that nobody else can interrupt, so-? ?So he can reward his supporters, yes, and buy weapons and make gifts and give aid in times of disaster. Matti, I?m not altogether gormless!?
She flashed a smile.?Sorry, darling. You?ll have the Lord Protector?s lands and dues and tithes through me, and so will our heir-?
He winked at her, and she blushed and continued doggedly:?But that will make its own problems.? ?Portland already weighs heavier in the realms of the Meeting than many like, true. But there?s Fred.?
They both looked over to where the son of the first President of Boise was testing his long saber against Asgerd?s sword and shield. ?When he?s President there, he?s promised me that the US of Boise shall be part of Montival. It was his father?s dream to reunite the lands… and if this is a bit of a different way to do it, he?s content with that.? ?And he doesn?t insist on being the one ruling the whole, unlike his elder brother,? she said.?I?m glad. I like him, but I wouldn?t risk our chil drens? inheritance just on that. Fred keeps his oaths, though; he?ll be a good vassal.? ?There is that. He hasn?t decided how to settle the succession there-?
Mathilda smiled grimly; for a moment she looked very much like her mother, though in face and form she took more after Norman Arminger. When she spoke her voice was definite: ?I?ve come to know Virginia. Unless she?s childless, it?s settled. He just doesn?t know it quite yet.?
Rudi shrugged; it wasn?t all that important. Fred was a young man yet, younger than Rudi. Any reasonable length of reign would make things solid. ?And Boise is smaller than the Association lands, but it has more than twice the population and wealth,? he said.?That?ll keep things in balance; that and bringing Pendleton and the rest of the eastern plains into the kingdom. For the future… there?s all the lands to the south of Ashland, empty.?
She chuckled.?Mom?s Westria Project.?
They shared the joke, and Rudi went on airily:?There?s just the little matter of beating the Prophet and Martin Thurston of Boise, the creatures, before we set all in order.?
She nodded and took his arm.?No great problem.?
He looked out to sea to hide the bleakness that rested in his eyes for a moment.
I calculate our odds as about even, when we have the Sword. And even then… how many will live to see the victory? How many will lie for the scald crows? There are victories that leave you with wounds that cannot fully heal. And not just in the Histories of the Dunedain. ?Well, then, that?s the fate of the High West settled,? Rudi said. ?Now let?s keep our fearless followers from recalling their stomachs by working them a bit more. You take one half, I the other, and we?ll play at storming and defending the poop deck by turns, eh??
He leapt lightly down to the main deck; despite his two-hundred-odd pounds of bone and muscle and armor he landed lightly as a cat. ?All of you! We have to learn to fight with a ship as a battlefield. We?ll divide into two teams and each into three squads. Hrolf Blood-ax and Ulfhild Swift-sword, you?ll be with me…?
The big Bjorning grinned, setting aside his murderous weapon for the practice version. Ulfhild nodded silently, but her face flushed with pleasure at the new use-name.
TheSwordoftheLady
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Dawn made shadows across the moving deck. Rudi stretched and drew his sword, saluted the glow where the rising sun was about to break over the horizon and began a slow routine that gradually quickened. There was enough space on the main deck just behind the foremast to work out, if you were careful-and being careful was part of the training. A longsword and a tall man?s arm had a great deal of reach, but endless practice had given him a reflexive grasp of where every bit of edge and point would go. It wasn?t quite as certain on the pitching deck of a ship, and he needed to do better with that.
A little like horseback, but not entirely. It?s fortunate indeed that I enjoy the sword, he thought. For I?d have to spend just as much time at it if I didn?t. Also, I wouldn?t be as good at it, and would die… die sooner, at least.
When he finished he was sweating despite the cold that bit at his nose and ears and made the inside of his nostrils stick occasionally. He steamed a little, in fact, and not just the deep puffs of white breath. That warmth wouldn?t last more than a few seconds if he stayed still, with this wind out of the northeast that lashed his shoulder-length mane backward from his face beneath the headband. He sheathed the sword on the belt hung from a belaying pin in the collar around the mast, put his waterproof parka back on and buckled on the belt over it. Nobody else but the deck watch was up yet. This was the day they expected to make landfall, and the hold was stuffy and crowded, but the others preferred it to early rising.
Or most did. Someone was standing on the fantail by the war engine; he recognized a Bjorning voice, and a woman?s-not Asgerd, but deeper and rougher. Ulfhild Swift-sword, then. And she was chanting softly, facing northwards along the white track of the schooner?s wake, with arms raised at either side and palms upward. There was a dreamy yearning in her tone that made him blink in surprise. ?Skadhi, shining goddess
Hear me, ice-bright beauty
Your winter white wards Midgard
As Ulfhild sails the whale?s-bath