Empire's Legacy- The Complete Trilogy

by Marian L Thorpe

  I straightened, considering. The sense of dislocation had left me somewhat while I slept, and I could think a bit more clearly. The sound could simply be another horse, or even a person on foot, but that seemed unlikely. Suddenly, a long, wavering wail broke the night. I gasped, and then laughed in relief. A rabbit had just lost its life to a hunting owl or a fox.

  I considered building up the fire and trying to go back to sleep, but I doubted I could. You are being scared by the words of a twelve-year old, I told myself. If there were bears, or wolves, Casyn—or more likely Turlo—would have told you.

  “Enough,” I said out loud. I doused the embers of the fire, rolled up my blanket, and prepared the horses. I led them back out to the track before mounting Plover. He swung his head towards the west and home, but when I asked him to walk east he did so without balking.

  After a while, Plover’s easy pace let me doze in the saddle. The moon rose high in the sky and began her descent. The night grew colder, and the wind picked up slightly. My fingers on the reins, even inside my gloves, grew stiff. I was thinking about dismounting and walking when the next gust of wind brought the scent of wood smoke. Plover pricked his ears, picking up his pace. Through the trees, I could see the faint glow of banked night-time fires. Clio whinnied.

  I heard a male voice, and an answering whinny from the darkness ahead of me. The fires brightened, as if newly fed with dry fuel.

  “Name yourself,” a voice commanded. In the sudden brightness of the replenished fire, I could see nothing. A good defensive move.

  “Lena of Tirvan. I seek the Emperor’s camp.”

  I heard footsteps, and then a young soldier holding a torch approached me. Plover shied at the proximity of the torch, and I gentled him.

  “We were told to expect you,” he said. “Have you ridden all night?”

  I shook my head. “I slept a while. What time is it?”

  “About four hours to dawn. Come. I cannot leave guard duty, but there is a place you can rest, and food and water for you and your horses.”

  “Can I not ride on?”

  “No,” he said. “Such are our orders for anyone not of this company. And there would be no point at this time of night. Better to sleep.”

  Disappointment washed over me, but knew I could not argue. I dismounted, stiff with cold, and followed the young soldier. He showed me a tent.

  “There is a camp bed in there on which you may rest. The latrine,” he said, and I heard a shading of embarrassment in his voice, “is just over there.” He seemed very young. He pointed north. “I’ll picket your horses and feed and water them. I am relieved an hour before dawn and will wake you then.”

  “Thank you. And your name?”

  “Darel. Of the third.”

  “The piebald is Plover, and the dun Clio.” I went inside the tent to the promised camp bed and a small brazier, not lit. I pulled off my boots and stretched out. The bed cradled my aching body. In a few hours, I would see Maya. I closed my eyes and slept.

  Chapter Twenty

  When Darel wakened me, the sun had not yet risen. I found my boots in the dark, pulling them on. Darel had Plover tacked up and Clio on her leading rein. His own mount, a bay with the look of a Han-bred horse, stood ready to go. He did not introduce me to the soldier now on guard duty. I raised a hand to the man from across the camp, and he acknowledged me with a nod.

  “It’s about a quarter of an hour to the Emperor’s camp,” Darel volunteered once we had started out. “The woman’s camp is another bit beyond that. I am to take you to General Casyn, though. Those were the orders.”

  “How long has the General been here?” I asked to make conversation. “I rode south with him to the grasslands road where we parted eight or nine days ago.”

  “He arrived three days ago, he and Major Turlo.” Something in his voice as he said Turlo’s name caught my attention. I looked at him more closely. In the dawn light, I could see his fox-red hair.

  “And the women,” I asked. “How long have they been here?”

  “About two weeks. The Emperor gave them tents and food. They’re camped in a small valley east of our camp. We’re not allowed to go there.”

  “How many women are there?” Ahead I could see the shape of tents and fires, and figures moving. Voices carried in the still air. I heard a laugh, boisterous and familiar: Turlo.

  “Perhaps three dozen,” Darel said.

  We rode into the camp: a village of tents, set up in orderly lines. Men moved outside the tents, getting ready for the day. I saw them looking up at me. Darel sat his horse with a straight back and a serious look on his face, riding directly for a group of larger tents on a slope some yards ahead. I looked around, curious, to see a figure striding towards me. I reined Plover in, grinning.

  “Lena!” Turlo shouted. I dismounted. He lifted me off my feet in a hug. I wondered, breathless, what the watching soldiers made of this. Turlo put me down and stepped back. “Cohort-Leader, welcome to the winter camp,” he said. “Let me take you to Casyn.” He looked up at Darel. “Well done, cadet,” he said, smiling. Darel flushed. “Take care of the Cohort-Leader’s horses, please.” He turned to me. “What happened to your Han mare?” I explained. “Cadet!” he called to Darel, who had begun to lead horses away. Darel turned in the saddle.

  “Sir?”

  “Get the mare reshod, please. Come,” he said to me, striding ahead. I followed him into one of the large tents. “Casyn, look who I’ve found!”

  “I think the whole camp heard,” Casyn said, rising. He too stepped forward to embrace me, in the formal soldier’s manner. “Welcome, Lena. I am very glad to see you.” He smiled at me, and I smiled back. “Have you breakfasted?”

  “No.”

  “Turlo?”

  “I’ll not say no to food.”

  “Why does that not surprise me,” Casyn said drily. I laughed, feeling ridiculously glad to see them both. Casyn called to someone for food and drink, bidding me sit while we waited. “No debriefing until you’ve eaten, Cohort-Leader.” I sat on the stool he indicated, looking around. Unlike the small sleeping tents we had used on the road, this tent was tall enough to stand in, and not just in the centre. A screen blocked part of the space, but the rest of the room held a desk and chair, several stools, and a couple of chests. A lit brazier provided warmth. This was not luxury, but certainly comfort, more than I had envisioned.

  In short order, tea, bacon, and bread fried in the bacon fat arrived. The soldier who brought it unfolded a small table, placing it in front of me, and another for Turlo. I ate hungrily, Turlo leisurely. Casyn drank tea.

  When I had finished and held a mug of tea, Casyn spoke. “You know Maya is here?”

  “Yes. I had news at the Four-Ways Inn.”

  “But you went to Karst first.”

  “Garth offered to take the news of Tice’s death, to let me come straight here, but it was my duty. And I wanted to be there for Garth, to witness his claiming of Valle. I’m glad I did.” I told them, as concisely as I could, of what had transpired at Karst.

  Turlo muttered “Stupid woman!” when I told them what Tamar had done, but Casyn simply listened.

  “Karst breeds proud women,” he said when I had finished. “And men. But it sounds as if the boy will be safe and properly raised.”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “And what of your task for me?” Casyn asked. Startled, I glanced at Turlo. Then I relaxed. Of course, he knew.

  “I did as you asked. The suggestions that we could ask for a new assembly proved of great interest to some, laughable to others, and I think one or two women thought me mad. One woman I spoke to wanted even more, to be a soldier, living and fighting beside the men.”

  Casyn raised an eyebrow. “An idea fraught with difficulties. But your sense, overall, is that there is support for change?”

  I wanted to answer him accurately. I sorted through all the impressions I had gathered. “There are certainly those who just want life to go back to what it w
as, but most women seem to realize that it can’t, or won’t, and many don’t want it to.”

  “And then there is Maya and her compatriots,” he said. “How do we resolve these divergent wishes?” I sensed this question was rhetorical and did not reply. I swallowed the last of my tea.

  “May I go to her now? If you have more questions for me, I will be glad to answer them later.”

  Casyn looked up. “She will not see you,” he said gently. “She has told me so.” I started to speak, but he held up a hand. “I won’t stop you from trying. Indeed, I have no authority to do so, but I wanted you to know that she will have you turned away. You should also know that her first question to me was to ask about your safety.”

  “I am not surprised that she has said she won’t see me. I heard enough on the road to expect that.” Even so, I had held on to a vestige of hope. “Did you tell her about Garth?”

  “No,” Casyn said. “I felt that was yours to tell, and perhaps a reason for her to see you after all.”

  “Thank you for that. It was, in the end, why I came.”

  Casyn studied me. I needed to say these words to someone, to make them real before I said them to Maya.

  “I realize there can be no future for us,” I said steadily, “but her last words to Tali were that she was going to look for Garth. She’s missed him all these years. I have to tell her he is safe.”

  Casyn nodded gravely.

  “I have a note to give her from a girl at one of the inns,” I said. “I’ll write my own note, saying I have news of Garth, and deliver them both. Do you have pen and paper I could use?”

  “Of course.” Casyn showed me his writing box, and I sat beside the brazier in the tent to write a short note.

  Maya, I am at the Emperor’s Camp. I would like to see you, if only for this: I have news of Garth. He is safe and well, and I have a message from him. I read it over. It sounded cold to me, but what more could I say? I signed my name, folded the paper, and sealed it.

  “I’ll take her,” Turlo said, unfolding himself from his stool. We walked out of the camp between rows of tents, along a path that ran up to the top a small rise. Below, in a small valley beside a stream, stood a dozen or so tents. I could see several women working around the tents, but not Maya. Turlo put his hand on my shoulder. The gesture almost made me cry. I wanted to lean into him, to be comforted.

  “Come back to the General’s tent when you’re ready.” I nodded my thanks, and walked down towards the tents, my body tense with apprehension.

  I saw someone notice me at the encampment. Hands pointed, and women conferred. Two began to walk towards me. They met me on the path, still a good distance from the camp.

  “Hello,” the older of the two said. She had short hair and kind eyes.

  “I am Lena of Tirvan.”

  She held out her hand. I took it. “I’m Alis, originally from Berge,” she said, “and this is Kirthe, from Torrey. Will you talk with us a minute?”

  I decided to take the lead. “I don’t expect Maya to see me.” I saw the flicker of surprise in Alis’s eyes. “I’ve heard enough of your plans, on the road, to understand why.” I hoped my voice sounded calm. “But I have two notes for her. One is from a girl at one of the inns on the grasslands. One is from me.” I handed them to Alis. I saw her glance at Kirthe. “Please tell Maya that the note from me concerns her brother.”

  “I’ll tell her,” Alis said. “I’ll give her these when she wakes. She and some of the others were planning late into the night.”

  “Thank you.” I hesitated. “She is well?”

  Alis smiled, fine lines fanning out around her eyes. “She is well.”

  Walking back up the hill, I remembered Garth saying how helpless he felt, waiting at Karst for Tamar to react to our news. But I didn’t feel helpless. I felt like I did late in the summer, ready to face what was coming, but still apprehensive. Part of the way up, I turned to watch Alis and Kirthe. I hoped to see which tent they would enter, but they joined a group of women washing clothes at the edge of the camp. I realized they could see me watching.

  I thought about crouching at the top of the hill, to watch the camp for a glimpse of Maya, but the idea seemed childish. I walked back between the rows of smaller tents. Men looked at me curiously, but no one spoke to me. The air smelled of wood smoke and horse dung and rang with the clang of metal and shouted commands.

  Casyn sat writing outside his tent, the brazier beside him. He looked up as I approached.

  “I’ve left the messages with one of the women,” I said. “They saw me coming and walked up to meet me on the path.”

  “Be patient. I think she will see you.”

  “For news of Garth.”

  “That will be what she tells the others,” he agreed. “Now, I have been thinking of what to do with you. You need a place to stay, and you are neither of this camp nor the women’s. I think it would be best for you to camp just slightly apart from us. I’ll have a tent issued to you, and a camp bed and brazier, and my aide will show you where to raise it. Following Turlo’s lead, wise man that he is, you will be called by your rank of Cohort-Leader in public. As you should call us by rank, outside of private conversation. The men will follow our lead.”

  He stood, and almost immediately a middle-aged soldier appeared. I recognized him as the man who had brought breakfast. “This is Sergeant Birel, my aide. Sergeant, this is Cohort-Leader Lena, from Tirvan. She needs a tent and the usual fittings.”

  “Yes, sir. If you would come with me, Cohort-Leader?”

  I followed Birel through the camp. We stopped at a large tent, with wagons covered in canvas behind it. He went inside, to come back out with a folded tent. I took it, surprised at its weight. Blankets came next. “I’ll show you your campsite and then we’ll come back for the rest of the things.”

  We walked beyond the periphery of the tents to a small grove of trees. I looked around. The trees gave me some privacy as well as protection from wind and rain. After we put up the tent, I followed Birel back to the stores for the brazier and charcoal, and then for the camp bed. He showed me how to put the bed together. Wooden pegs held the frame, and a rope strung through holes in the frame supported the sleeper. More trips gained me water jugs and other necessities. My little camp came together quickly.

  “I’ll detail some soldiers to dig you a latrine pit and put up wattling around it.”

  “I can do that.”

  He shook his head slightly. “Best not. No officer would, in camp. The General would like you to join him for the midday meal after you refresh yourself.”

  I looked down at myself. I had ridden hard and long yesterday, and slept rough, and it showed. I had not even considered this when I had gone to the women’s encampment. Briefly, I wondered what Alis and Kirthe had thought, but then dismissed the thought. What of it? “I’ll be there. Thank you for all of this,” I added, gesturing to the camp.

  “Not at all,” he said briskly. “Shall I give you some time before I send the team over?”

  I could stand in my tent, but only near the centre. I moved the washstand, filled the bowl, and stripped. I realized I should have lit the brazier when I felt the water. I washed and dressed quickly. As I combed my hair, I wondered if the camp’s barber would cut it for me.

  As I stepped out of my tent, a team of two soldiers approached, one with a spade over his shoulder, the other carrying wattle panels.

  “Cohort-Leader,” the one with the spade addressed me. “Sergeant Birel sent us to dig your necessary. Do you want to say where?”

  “I’ll leave that to your judgment.” Did you thank soldiery for such work? Then I remembered Casyn’s unfailing politeness to his subordinates. “Thank you.”

  I walked back up the short path into the main camp. I hoped I could remember how to find Casyn’s tent. A few men nodded to me, and a young officer, passing, greeted me by rank.

  “Lieutenant,” I said, glad that I could recognize his insignia. “Can you direct me to th
e General Casyn’s tent?” He pointed. “Thank you.”

  Birel was waiting for me there. “Please come with me,” he said, without further explanation. We ascended a slope to where a large tent stood, somewhat apart. Birel pulled open the flap.

  “Cohort-Leader Lena, sir,” he said, gesturing me to go in. I stepped under the flap into the interior. Three men rose to greet me: Casyn, and two others I did not recognize, both roughly Casyn’s age. One wore unrelieved black, and the other, the brown uniform of the Empire. I glanced uncertainly at Casyn. He turned slightly toward the man in uniform.

  “Callan, may I introduce Cohort-Leader Lena, of Tirvan. Lena, this is Callan, our elected Emperor.”

  I had absolutely no idea what I was supposed to do. Callan smiled.

  “Welcome, Cohort-Leader.” I had expected him to look like Casyn, and around the eyes I could see a resemblance. But he stood half a head taller than Casyn and carried less weight on his lean frame.

  “Thank you, sir,” I said, just audibly, through very dry lips.

  “And this is my advisor, Colm,” he said, indicating the other man. The third brother, I remembered, the historian and castrate. He looked quite a bit like the Emperor, but less defined, with watchful eyes. He returned my greeting with only a hint of a smile.

  “Shall we sit?” Casyn said. I waited for Callan to sit first. Casyn, I thought, you could have warned me. Young officers are trained in protocol. I am not.

  “Casyn has told me what happened at Tirvan, both at his arrival and during the fighting,” Callan said. “I will not ask you to elaborate on that unless there is something you particularly want to tell me.” He paused.

  “No, sir,” I said. “Except that without Garth, now Watch-Commander of Skua, more lives would have been lost, a child’s among them.”

  “His acts are known to me,” he said, nodding. “Tell me, if you will, what you heard on the road from other women at the inns.”

  I repeated what I had told Casyn. Colm took notes, and Callan listened intently. When I spoke of Halle, and her desire to be a soldier, he smiled.