She came closer, and crouched by him.
‘I just wanted to say, Chief,’ she said, slurring, and swaying gently, ‘that I’m proud you chose me, and I promise I won’t let you down.’
‘I know you won’t.’
A tear sprang from her left eye. She wiped it away, her face reddening. ‘Stupid cow,’ she muttered.
She got to her feet to leave, then turned and leant down by him.
‘Come back to my room,’ she whispered in his ear.
He shook his head, unable to form any words.
‘I want you.’
‘It’s too soon,’ he said. ‘Daphne…’
‘Daphne’s dead,’ she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. ‘I’m not.’
She turned and walked from the hall. A couple of hunters watched her go, then got up and went after her.
‘Fuck,’ said Bridget, ‘that was heavy.’
Killop frowned. ‘I fucked it up.’
‘You were honest with her,’ Bridget shrugged. ‘The next raid might be awkward, but.’
Chapter 17
Revelation
Outside Plateau City, The Plateau – 28th Day, First Third Autumn 505
Agang sat bolt upright in bed, the dream fresh in his mind, his heart racing.
He glanced to his left, and saw in the gloom of dawn that Chane had already arisen, and left his sleeping chamber.
Agang pulled back the blanket and dressed himself, unable to keep a smile from his face. He went into the adjoining tent, where Chane was sitting, eating breakfast. She looked up as he walked over.
‘Chane,’ he said, ‘I need to tell you something.’ He sat. Chane’s eyes lit up at the obvious excitement on his face.
‘Now I know,’ he said, ‘that you don’t believe in the Sanang religion, so what I’m about to say may seem incredible.’
Chane put down her mug. ‘Now I’m intrigued.’
Agang took a deep breath. ‘The war god visited me in my dreams last night. He told me what I must do.’
Chane pursed her lips, but remained silent.
‘I shall be king,’ he said, his thoughts returning to the vision.
‘You had a dream?’
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘but I know it was the war god, because he has guided me before.’
Chane said nothing.
‘Do you remember how I was able to capture Daphne Holdfast’s fort?’
She furrowed her eyebrows. ‘Vaguely.’
‘The war god came to me in a dream,’ Agang said. ‘He told me all about the fort, its weaknesses, and that the other garrisons had been evacuated. I wasn’t sure at first if it had really been the war god, or whether my mind had invented it, but I chose to attack, and every word the god said was proved true.’
He paused, as Chane stared at him.
‘The god has not visited me since,’ Agang went on, ‘until last night.’ He smiled. ‘He said I was the chosen one, and that I would be the king who would unite Sanang. He also told me how to do it.’
‘How?’
‘You’ll learn soon enough,’ he said. ‘I knew you’d be sceptical. I don’t blame you, I mean the idea of a god sending a vision into your mind probably seems crazy to you, but doesn’t your creator god do the same? Doesn’t he speak to your prophets?’
‘So they say,’ Chane replied. ‘I haven’t believed it since I was about eight.’
He laughed. ‘There are mightier powers at work than either you or I understand.’
For a moment Chane looked as if she was going to say something, but instead picked up her mug and drank. Agang sat back, pleased she had refrained from voicing more doubt about his dream. He thought back to the vision. The voice, his presence, all had been identical to the first time. The god had even remarked about it being his second visit, and had hinted about more in the future.
He grinned.
A god was on his side. How could he lose?
‘Withdraw, Chief?’ cried Badranga. ‘We refuse to give up, we refuse to run away like frightened women.’
‘We are not running away,’ Agang said, raising his hand to quieten the assembled chiefs and officers. ‘We’re meeting the sole condition set by the Holdings for starting negotiations. We have been camped outside the walls for over a third, and all that time the king has said that he will talk to me, if we remove the warriors back five miles from the city.’
‘We should be attacking,’ Badranga said, ‘not negotiating. Your talk of a long siege was always impossible. We’re low on supplies, and every farm and village for a hundred miles around has been stripped bare. We also know that a Holdings army is approaching from the horselands. I say we strike straight through the middle of the Clackdomyn camp, and assault their weakest wall, before their reinforcements arrive.’
‘No,’ Agang said, ‘we will speak to the king, and make our demands known. Gold, wagons of treasure. And slaves, thousands of slaves. I will list our demands to the king. If he acquiesces, then we will have left the region by the time the Holdings army gets here.’
‘The warriors are restless, my lord,’ Drechtan said. ‘Many are hard to restrain. They thirst for an attack, they thirst for blood. If we order them to retreat, even if only as a tactical gambit, they may refuse our orders.’
‘You have a problem with discipline in your ranks?’
‘Not personally, my lord,’ Drechtan said. ‘I was thinking of others.’
‘You mean B’Dang, who once again has not deigned to attend a war council?’
‘For example, my lord.’
Agang looked over the gathered chiefs, light from the bright autumn morning spilling into the large tent.
‘Does anyone here refuse to follow my commands?’
There were scowls, but no one spoke.
Agang nodded. ‘Here’s what I plan. We shall withdraw the army, back ten miles to the woods along the western road. It has the only body of trees left in the area, and while I am having talks with the king, I want the army preparing for an assault. Rams, ladders, shields, everything we need.’
The chiefs looked up at his words.
‘If the king does not fulfil our demands, then we will launch a full assault on the walls, and we will burn the city to the ground. I shall lead the attack.’
The officers and chiefs let out a roar, and cheered his name. Agang raised his arms to take the acclaim.
He felt a tug at his elbow.
‘We need to talk, my lord,’ Hodang said.
Agang nodded, and stepped down off the dais. He followed his chief minister to the rear of the tent.
‘I don’t understand these new orders,’ Hodang said. ‘I thought we’d agreed that we would discuss changes in strategy? I had no idea what you were going to say up there. Have you have decided to lead an assault on the walls?’
‘Don’t worry, Hodang. It won’t come to that.’
‘No? I can hardly believe that the king will willingly give up thousands of his subjects as slaves.’
‘A greater destiny is at work,’ Agang said.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Trust me, old friend,’ Agang said, ‘I know what I’m doing.’
The chiefs began to disperse back to their own forces, leaving his officers waiting.
Agang turned to them. ‘Order the withdrawal. All the warriors, in an orderly fashion, back to the woods.’ He glanced at his commanders. ‘Mandalecht, you’ll be staying with me, along with a company of your best. Lomecht, you will take command of the army while we’re with the king.’
He turned back to Hodang, who was standing with a worried look on his face.
‘Organise a herald to be sent to the Clackdomyn. Pass on a message through them that the army is leaving, but I will be remaining here to await the king of the Holdings.’
‘Yes, Chief,’ his minister said.
‘Also, send someone to fetch Drechtan back. I’ll need one of the allies present. And summon Badolecht.’
Hodang nodded and strode away.
‘Chief,’ Mandalecht said, ‘it could be a trap. The king may send his cavalry out as soon as the army has marched away. Or the Clackdomyn may attack us.’
‘I do not believe that,’ Agang said. ‘We’ll move this command tent to the road in front of the main city gates. We’ll keep your company close by, but they’ll be mostly for show. I believe the Holdings king wishes to talk.’
‘If he comes out. He might think we’ll ambush him. I would.’
‘He will come,’ Agang said.
By mid-afternoon, Agang was sitting on a raised throne, four hundred yards from the northern gates of Plateau City. Just behind him was the command tent, its canvas walls cleaned of the mud of a third-long siege. To either side, in compact ranks, stood a company of elite soldiers, the only Sanang armed presence for ten miles. The last units of the main army had disappeared along the western road hours before. Mandalecht was to his left, the one-eyed officer sweating and staring at the gates. Beyond him stood Drechtan, dressed in his finest furs and kilt.
Hodang and Badolecht were to his right. His chief advisor was in a foul mood, still smarting from being left in the dark about Agang’s thinking. Chane had been the only one to whom he had told the truth, no others knew that he was being guided by advice from the war god.
They would just have to trust him.
Agang gazed at the great gates in the distance, closed and unyielding.
He could soon be leading an assault on the walls.
No. He breathed. No. He must have faith. A fear leapt into his mind that perhaps the young war god was using him for another purpose, leading him into a trap that would fulfil some other desire.
No. The war god was the only true god. The other, older, gods had abandoned Sanang generations before, and only the war god had not betrayed them. He would not betray Agang now. He had chosen Agang as his right hand, to lead the Sanang back to glory. Unity and glory.
Agang praised the war god under his breath, while Hodang glanced at him.
‘My lord?’ his minister said.
‘Yes, Hodang?’
‘The king does not appear to be coming.’
‘Have a little patience,’ Agang said.
Badolecht frowned. ‘At least they haven’t attacked us.’
‘We probably just caught them by surprise,’ Agang said. ‘We’d given no indication that we were likely to accede to their condition for talks. I imagine they’ve been holding urgent meetings, discussing how to respond. If they don’t appear by sunset, I’ll take that as a rejection of our offer to negotiate.’
‘And then we attack the walls?’
Agang nodded.
‘Look,’ said Drechtan, pointing and smiling.
The great gates started to open, to the faraway notes of trumpets carried on the wind.
Mandalecht tensed, and Agang felt the warriors in the company to either side pull themselves into a tighter formation, as they waited to see who would emerge from the city.
The gates shuddered to a stop, wide open like an invitation to enter. Flags and high fluttering standards were raised, and a company rode out from the gates, their armour gleaming, and the sound of their hooves on the road echoing up to Agang. The ranks of shining cavalry fanned out into an arc, and a line of carriages emerged from the city gates, each pulled by horses decorated in fine regalia.
‘They’re sending somebody important,’ Badolecht said.
‘The king himself is coming,’ said Drechtan. ‘The second carriage is flying the royal crest. You were right, my lord. The king of the Holdings will be here. He will have to listen to our demands.’
‘How did you know, my lord?’ Hodang asked, his eyes dark.
‘I didn’t know,’ he lied. ‘I took a gamble.’
Hodang bowed low. ‘My lord, your wisdom astounds me again, your royal leadership, your purest acumen and foresight. I am not worthy to serve you. But please, next time, I beg that you tell me what’s going on before it happens.’
Agang smiled.
‘I still don’t believe the king will agree to your demands,’ Hodang said.
‘Let’s listen to what he has to say first.’
They watched as the cavalry approached. The troopers were taking their time, and keeping perfect formation. The afternoon sunlight glanced off their steel armour, and the light breeze kept their standards raised.
‘Who are they?’ Badolecht said. ‘The ones in black robes, walking next to the carriages?’
‘Mage-priests,’ Agang said. ‘Each will have battle-vision powers.’
Mandalecht drew in his breath. ‘I remember fighting those bastards.’
‘They were the only ones who could stand up to us,’ Drechtan said. ‘Without battle-vision, the feeble Holdings race would never have beaten us.’
‘I imagine many of the cavalry will have it too,’ Agang said. ‘After all, they’re escorting their king.’
A hundred yards away, the Holdings troopers came to a halt. The carriages came forward, and formed into a line, five abreast. There was a flurry of activity as poles and canvas were unloaded, and within minutes a large awning had been erected. Rugs, seats, tables and other items of furniture were placed under the great canvas covering. At the rear of the shadow created by the awning a throne was set up, facing the Sanang.
The doors of the central carriage opened, and Agang watched as several figures dismounted onto the road and grassy areas to each side.
‘There he is,’ Badolecht said.
Agang scanned the people emerging from the carriages. A man, not much older than he, was walking toward the awning, surrounded by mages in black robes.
It was him. Guilliam.
The man stepped up to the throne, his long robes trailing to the ground. Once he was seated, the cavalry began withdrawing, until they were as far away from the awning as the Sanang.
Agang stood.
He nodded to the four by him, and they began walking down the road. Following them were heralds and a few selected warriors, similar to the number of black robed mages who had stayed behind when the cavalry withdrew.
Agang cleared his thoughts.
So far, everything the war god had said had come true.
As they approached the awning, Agang saw other figures assembled, standing by the king’s throne, dressed in uniform, or the black robes of the Holdings church. A trio of Clackdomyn towered over the others.
Agang raised his hand to the squad that had accompanied them, and stepped into the shadows, his four advisors following.
‘Welcome,’ the king said. ‘May the creator bless this meeting. By your regal bearing may we assume that you are the renowned Agang Garo?’
‘I am,’ he replied, striding forward over the rich carpet.
‘We are pleased, Lord Agang,’ the king said, gazing down at them, ‘that you have seen fit to withdraw your forces in order to begin negotiations.’
‘My army waits a few miles away, your Majesty,’ Agang said, ‘as eager as ever for justice.’
‘Yes, quite,’ the king said. ‘Justice. Speak to us now of justice, Lord Agang Garo. Tell us of your grievances against us. Leave nothing out, for we acknowledge that our crimes against your nation were heinous.’
Agang heard Hodang gasp in surprise as the words were translated for his advisors.
‘Your realm invaded our lands four times,’ Agang said. ‘Each year you stripped our forests bare, slaughtered thousands, and left tens of thousands to die of famine in your wake. Hundreds of square miles of forest were devastated, and many are still uninhabited wastelands. You took advantage of our lack of government, our lack of an organised army to rob, rape and murder. And then, when we learned to fight back, you ran away, and proclaimed peace.’
He swallowed, fighting down his rising temper.
‘I am here to remind you that you cannot walk away from what you did to my people, to my nation.’
‘And we shall not. These chests to your left,’ the king said, flourishing his hand towards a row
of wooden trunks, ‘contain twenty million gold sovereigns, as a payment towards your loss. We have, as you are no doubt aware, reversed the policy of our late, beloved sister’s rule, and foresworn any further infringement of the territorial integrity of the Sanang forest region. We would also be prepared to recognise Sanang as a fellow kingdom and realm, if any such king were to be crowned.’
‘On behalf of the people of Sanang,’ Agang said, ‘I accept this partial payment as compensation for some of the damage your nation has wrought upon mine. I have other demands.’
‘No doubt you do,’ the king said, ‘but before you speak them, please have some refreshments and, as we listened to your tale of justice, we would beg you do the same.’
‘Are you referring to the massacre of your people on the far bank of the river?’ Agang said, as servants with trays began circulating.
‘We were not,’ the king said. ‘We will speak of that regrettable incident later. For now, we wish to speak of a greater matter. For all the terror and horror of the conflict between our nations, it is nothing compared to the war that is to come.’
Agang said nothing.
‘To the south,’ the king went on, ‘the rich and powerful nation of Rahain plots to control us all. They have an army greater than all of the other four peoples combined. Our troubles with the Rahain stretch back decades, long before our conflict with your nation. However, in recent years, the perfidious Rahain have struck at two of the other races living in this world, dealing them blows that have crippled them. Next, they will come for us, and for you.’
The king gestured to the trio of Kellach standing to his right, and Agang noticed that they were the same three that he had met with when the Sanang had arrived at the walls.
‘The Kellach Brigdomin people were first,’ the king said. ‘A massive Rahain invasion, with over a hundred thousand soldiers deployed, destroyed the mountain people’s land and culture, ripping the survivors from their roots and displacing them, either as slaves being worked to death in Rahain, or as refugees squatting in camps like the one outside our walls.’
The king then gestured to his left, to a group of people of short stature, with big eyes like children.
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