Part 10 (1/2)

”Yes. There's no other way.”

”And you have a supply of the weapons you had before?”

”A small supply.” Suddenly I felt a light surge of excitement. I was onto something after all.

”And if we're successful in setting up a kingdom here, we can go back to our own part of the sky and find a world where more such weapons can be gotten, and bring them.”

And experienced rebels with a.s.sorted skills, to help build a technical base here, I told myself. That might possibly work; it just might.

We kept riding through the night, his eyes on me, and I knew he had to be digesting what I'd said.

Maybe planning something, too. What had Isaac ben Abraham said about the Normans? ”They have an extreme restlessness, a recklessness....” Something like that. And also something about ”treacheries b.l.o.o.d.y and outrageous.”

Then Arno quit pointing the stunner at me, clipping it on his belt without saying anything. ”Where are we going?” I asked, in Norman now.

”To the castle of Roger of Hauteville, at Mileto, some twenty miles south of here.” ”Will I meet Roger?”

”Roger and his elder brother Guiscard, the duke, are on Sicily, where they captured Palermo three months ago. Palermo is Sicily's greatest city-one of the world's greatest-and beautiful beyond words. I fought there. I led a squadron. Then the duke dubbed Roger the Count of Sicily. Roger will rule the island for him, though Guiscard, as duke, will keep Palermo as his own. ”Roger has said he will keep his castle at Mileto, where we are going now. It is no stronghold such as Normans build here, but its walls are thick, and he has no lack of men to defend it. And he controls the country far around.

”He has given me my own fief outside Palermo, where I am having a castle built of stone, atop a rocky hill. I have my own liege knights and sergeants there now, looking to it.”

Arno had obviously come a long way in less than three years. He was peering at me as if trying to see what I thought of all this, but the moon was on the wrong side; my face was shadowed. ”It is good land,”

he went on. ”Much of it is lowland, nearly flat, with a mountain stream that carries water the year round.

But there is no great marsh, and therefore, it is said, no fever. And because the lower slopes are northerly, the pasturage grows thicker and stays green longer.”

”So you're going to remain a warrior after all,” I said, ”instead of becoming a merchant.” ”Not so. I have become a baron, but I am also a merchant who raises des triers for our knights and sergeants. That's why I am here in Calabria just now, instead of on my own fief. I've been grazing my breeding herd on the count's land here until I should have my own. In town today I arranged to have them s.h.i.+pped to Palermo.

Late tomorrow a s.h.i.+p will come to the wharf at Mileto, and we will load them.”

”But most merchants are free men, isn't that so?” I asked. ”While a baron is a va.s.sal, owing military service to his liege lord.”

For some seconds there was only the dull plodding of hooves on dirt, the occasional click of an iron shoe on stone. Then Arno answered. ”No man is truly free. A merchant makes agreements with buyers and others, and owes them goods or services. He pays in money or goods for protection, and more often than not he owes the moneylender.”

We rode a way farther without saying anything, Arno's eyes ahead. Finally, he looked at me again. ”As a younger son I have no inheritance,” he told me, ”and my eldest brother is not a man of influence. For me, the road to wealth can best begin by swearing fealty to a great lord, preferably a conqueror, and making myself of special value to him. Also, both Guiscard and Roger are granting fiefs that have little to do with land. One great n.o.ble will build Guiscard a fleet with which to conquer Greece or possibly Africa. In my own case, in Sieu of military service, I may pay Roger in des triers if I wish.

”I caught Roger's eye on the battlefield at Misilmeri, nearly four years since, and happily, he had not forgotten me when I returned a year later with my first herd. Italian horses are not suited to our Norman tactics; they lack the weight and strength. So the des triers I brought were almost beyond price. My second herd was mostly brood mares, with only three great stallions. With them I .. .”, Deneen's voice spoke unexpectedly from the communicator at Arno's belt. He was so surprised he jerked, then reined in his horse. I stopped mine, too. I hadn't remembered to switch it to remote reception after I'd used it the last time on the s.h.i.+p.

”Larn, this is Javelin,” she was saying. ”Larn, this is Javelin.

Over.”

”I should answer her,” I said.

He reached to his belt and took off the communicator, peering at it.

”How is it used? I've forgotten.”

”It's a different model from the one I had before. This one is military. Here,” I added, reaching.

He scowled, holding it away from me. ”Tell me,” he said, ”for I will not put it in your power.”

”All right,” I countered, ”hold it in your hand and let me touch the magic places.”

”Larn, what's the situation down there?” Deneen's voice went on. Obviously, she thought I had it on remote and that no one else was hearing her. She sounded somewhere between exasperated and worried. ”Bubba says you're out in the countryside. I seem to have you located on the viewer-I presume it's you- with four other men on the road that goes south along the coast. Come in please, if you can.

Over.”

While she was saying that, Arno held the communicator out for me to touch. I opened the transmit switch and raised the volume a bit. ”Okay, Arno,” I told him. ”Talk to her.”

”h.e.l.lo,” he said in Evdas.h.i.+an. ”I am Arno of Courmeron.”

”What? Who are you? I can't understand you.”

She could understand him all right. She wanted him to give me the communicator. But from his expression, he wasn't about to.

”You understand me so good as you must. I am Arno of Courmeron.”

She did something with the switch, and the communicator made clicking noises, sharp and rapid. ”Larn, can you hear me?” she said. ”What's going on there? Whose voice was that? Over.”

He wasn't very happy with that either, but he held it out where I could talk into it.

”Hi, Deneen.” I was speaking Evdas.h.i.+an too, slowly, so that Arno could more or less follow what I said.

”That was Arno of Courmeron. And I didn't find him; he found me. He'd heard about me in an eating place, and surprised me when I was sleeping; he and three other Normans. He's got my stunner and blast pistol and communicator.

”Don't worry, though. Everything is all right so far. He and I are talking about things we might do together. Right now we're going to where he's staying.”

Arno was watching me intently. I'd need to throw in some words he didn't know so he wouldn't understand what I had to say next, ”I'll activate the remote if the opportunity presents. You palpitate the switch additionally after I enunciate the appellation of our telepathic quadruped.”

I paused. It was desirable that Arno did understand what I said next, so this time I spoke simply. ”Arno is holding me prisoner, sort of. He doesn't fully trust me and I don't fully trust him, but I think he and I can work something out together. Meanwhile, you follow us from above. You can use magic to know whether I've been harmed or not.” Magic Arno accepted, more or less, while technology was foreign to him. I paused now for emphasis. ”If I'm harmed,” I continued, ”you know what to do. And take good care of Bubba.”

As soon as I said ”Bubba”-the ”appellation of our telepathic quadruped”-the speaker not only gave another series of clicks, but a loud squeal. I don't know how she did the squeal part.

”Here,” I said to Arno. ”I need to fix it.”

He hesitated, then moved his horse closer so I could look the communicator over. Reaching, I switched it to remote. ”There,” I said. ”That may fix it, or it may make it worse.

”Deneen,” I added, ”my communicator is acting up again. Same old problem-clicking noises. I've adjusted the gum mox If you can hear me, transmit again and let's see if it's working now. Over.”

Both Arno and I looked at the communicator as if watching would help it work. Of course it didn't make a sound that he could hear. ”Deneen,” I said, ”we do not receive you. Transmit again please.

Over.”