Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [225]
"We're not exactly pilgrims," Kinadius observed.
"No, but the Skaldi understand honor." I thought about Joscelin challenging Waldemar Selig to the holmgang outside the gates of Troyes-le-Mont. "It's worth a try.”
Hours passed.
To my delight, I overheard another pilgrim family conversing in Habiru. I understood it better than I spoke it, but I'd learned a fair bit in Saba, and I hadn't lost it. I passed the time conversing with them and learned they were from a Flatlander town not far from Zoellen, and were bound for the northern kingdom.
"Vralia," the young husband said reverently. "So it is called after the new king.”
"Vralia?" I tasted the word.
He nodded. "You know of it?”
I shook my head. "Tell me.”
For the better part of an hour, he regaled me with tales of distant Vralia. It seemed for long years, the Yeshuite presence had merely been tolerated without making much impact on the fierce land, which was cold and harsh, and filled with quarrelsome tribes. The Yeshuites had built their settlements and defended them from raiding nomads. One of their leaders, a man named Micah ben Ximon, was a warrior of great renown. Stories of his prowess had been filtering through the Yeshuite community for years.
"It is said that he can best any swordsman with only a pair of daggers," the young Habiru man, whose name was Yoel, told me. "As was foretold. 'And he shall carve out the way before you, and his blades shall shine like a star in his hands.'“
My skin prickled. "Like so?" I crossed my forearms in the Cassiline manner.
Yoel's eyes widened. "You do know this tale!”
I laughed softly. "I know its beginning. Go on, my friend.”
He told me how what power there was lay in the hands of the Vralings, ruling from the city of Vralgrad. How two brothers, Tadeuz and Fedor, had quarrelled over the throne some eight years ago. Fedor, the younger, had raised an army in rebellion, courting the wild Tatars and filling his ranks with them. He had been poised to overthrow Tadeuz, who sent in desperation for the renowned Yeshuite warrior, Micah ben Ximon.
"Ben Ximon told him, if you place your faith in Yeshua, I will lead your army to victory in his name," Yoel said. "And he did. It is said a great miracle took place that day." His face shone. "Now Tadeuz Vral rules in Yeshua's name. Truly, Yeshua's kingdom lives in the north!”
I kept my mouth shut on the thought that while he might rule in Yeshua's name, this Tadeuz Vral had seen fit to call his kingdom after his own name. "What happened to the rebel brother?”
"Imprisoned." Yoel smiled. "A Yeshuite king is a compassionate king.”
I would have spoken longer with him, but the burly official summoned them. He then peered at his assistant's list, running a thick finger down the names written there. "Come tomorrow," he said to us in Skaldic. "Too late today.”
I groaned. "It's very …" I couldn't think of the word for "important" or "urgent." I did my best to argue with him, but his expression hardened.
"Tomorrow!" he thundered.
The guards posted at the antechamber door began to take an uncomfortable interest in us. "Fine," I said reluctantly. "Tomorrow.”
I broke the news to Urist and the others. Deordivus was angry, but Urist took it in stride. "We had a piece of luck at the tannery," he said philosophically. "And another one choosing to follow the pilgrims. Not every day's a lucky one.”
"Let's hope tomorrow is," I said.
Chapter Forty-Seven
On the morrow we learned that Adelmar of the Frisii was a shrewd man.
We had to wait two hours that morning before we were summoned to an audience with him.