Ascendant

by Florian Armas

  The two waves of soldiers met at the back of the tent and moved fast to tighten the circle.

  It was too easy. “Surrender!” Costa shouted from the left side of the door; Eagle stood at the other side.

  His shout was drowned out by the cries of the men suddenly dying around the tent. The first volley of arrows flew from the forest. Then the second one. Through the feeble light of the moon, there was no way to see the archers. They were firing quickly and hiding again behind the trees to nock their bows. Codrin had split them into three groups and, every fifteen heartbeats, another volley of twenty arrows zipped out of the trees.

  At the edge of the battle field, the hundred soldiers hidden in the grass crawled closer to the tent.

  “Surround them!” Codrin shouted, when he felt sure that less than a hundred enemies were still alive around the tent. The soldiers hidden in the grass stood up, and fifty more emerged from the forest, at Codrin’s command. They all stopped at a distance which still left space for the archers to shoot. Ten torches were taken out of their buckets and thrown around the surrounded soldiers.

  Costa moved toward the forest and stood alone in front of his soldiers. “I am Costa, captain in the Peyris Army. We have lost, and I surrender to you. Just let my soldiers live.”

  “I think you are here for me,” Codrin stepped forward too. “Soldiers of Peyris, drop your weapons and go one by one toward the torches.”

  “What about the mercenaries, and Aron’s men?” Costa asked.

  “The mercenaries must surrender too. Aron’s men are no part of this deal.” Aron killed Mohor and tried to kill me.

  “Do as he said,” Costa ordered. “Gather on the left side.”

  Leno and his men tried to sneak away, but a new volley of arrows went through them and soon only a few remained alive. The soldiers from Peyris, and the mercenaries, dropped their swords, and one by one walked in front of the torches where Codrin’s men took them captive.

  In the early morning, when the mist from the small river was climbing toward the hill, Costa and Codrin found themselves face to face again. “I have this for you,” Costa said, his voice level, and offered an envelope to Codrin. “A letter from the Duke of Peyris,” he added at Codrin’s mute question. “We took into account that we might fail to capture you.”

  This is must be what the Empress was talking about. “Things happen.” Codrin shrugged, and opened the letter.

  ‘To Codrin, Knight of Cleuny,’ he read.

  ‘If you read this, my men have failed. While I would be disappointed, there is no shame in being defeated by a more skilled enemy. This letter makes the same proposal that would have waited for you in Peyris, where you would have been my guest. I offer you the Seigneury of Crade and the position of second Spatar of my army. At the right time, marriage with one of my granddaughters will be considered.’

  “Do you know the content of this letter?” Codrin asked.

  “No, but the Duke asked us to capture you alive. He wants to give you a position in Peyris. And I have this letter too.” Costa proffered a second scroll. It was from Dochia.

  ‘Codrin,’ the letter said.

  “Things are not going well in Frankis, and I will be away longer than I thought. In our last talk, Duke Stefan’s mind changed a bit. He is no longer too enthusiastic about Bucur. That doesn’t mean the he will cease to help Bucur. The Duke will make an overture toward you too, yet I don’t know what he has in mind. It’s up to you to accept or refuse it. My friend, Sybille, will contact you later.

  You must learn the old language of the Talant Empire. While this may look strange to you, it’s more important than you think, and I can’t write you in detail about this. Sybille will bring you a dictionary and a grammar book.

  Soon, you will receive Poenari. Don’t refuse it. Taking the fortress will become your starting point.

  PS: Jara and Saliné are in grave danger, though I don’t know what will happen. Fate refused to tell me. You must protect them, even though you may need to renounce Saliné.’

  While Dochia could advise Codrin about the need to learn the Talant language, she had no permission to reveal Ada’s vision about the necessity of it, and the relation between the old Talant artifacts falling into the Serpentists’ hands and the Fracture. She could not tell him about the devilish Maletera, which was able to carry thoughts and invade minds. Ada was the strongest Wanderer alive; none of her requests were without reason. Dochia was not even sure if Ada had revealed everything that was in the old Wanderer’s vision.

  I will never renounce Saliné, Codrin shook his head. And Dochia was wrong about Poenari. The Duke offered me Crade. I don’t even know where Crade is. Her vision was strange; Poenari is in Leyona Seigneury, and it’s already in my possession. Not all the visions come true. “What happened in Severin?” he asked Costa.

  “I heard that Aron made a mess of things. Leno may know more.”

  “Duke Stefan fought on Aron’s side,” Codrin said bitterly, “and killed the rightful Seigneur of Severin.” There was pain throbbing in his voice.

  “You know about it...” Costa whispered. “The Duke had nothing to do with the killing. Orban helped Aron. Sage Belugas told us yesterday evening.”

  “Is he still here?”

  “I don’t think so. The Sages vanish at the smallest sign of danger,” Costa said, with barely hidden contempt.

  “Vlaicu, bring Leno...”

  “He is dead,” Vlaicu said. “And his second in command too. Five of Aron’s soldiers survived, but that can wait. Our men who were embedded with them last night have some interesting news.”

  “I shall leave,” Costa said.

  “Don’t,” Vlaicu stopped him. “What I’ve learned may be of interest to you too. Belugas asked Leno to kill both you and Codrin.”

  “What?” Costa asked. “I am the Duke’s captain.”

  “Belugas took Aurelian’s place as Primus Itinerant,” Codrin said. “Maybe Duke Stefan will understand more about how the Circle is playing him.” I still don’t know why the Duke is helping Aron. It’s not only about the Circle. I have the feeling that Dochia knows this, but she has chosen to hide it from me. Why is Aron so important? “Tell the Duke that I thank him for his offer, but I am now the Grand Seigneur of Leyona, and I intend to remain so. Take your men and leave. The events of last night are his responsibility, but I don’t want more blood between the Duke and me.”

  “Good luck with Leyona, and thank you, Sir.” Costa bowed. From everything I have heard about him, Codrin is not a man to lie, but how could he conquer Leyona? Well, that’s less important than being unable to deliver him to the Duke. He shrugged, trying to overcome his worries. My tenure as captain may be shorter than I expected.

  “Now,” Vlaicu breathed after Costa left them, black anger glittering in his eyes. “Tell me about Mohor.”

  “I’ve just learned about it, but I was not sure,” Codrin said, his voice heavy, and he told Vlaicu everything he had learned from the Empress. He kept the source hidden. “Aron and the Circle have joined forces with Orban, and Jara... Jara was sent to Arad with Vio and Cernat. I should have done this a long time ago, but I swear that I will kill Aron.”

  “Take Bucur and leave Aron to me,” Vlaicu grunted.

  “I will not do it without you. Will you join me now? I need good men like you.”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you. Talk with your men. Any one of them who wants to join me is welcome in my army.”

  “Most of them will join you. I am sure.”

  Chapter 2 – Saliné

  Seen from the window, the yellow-reddish road wound left and right in large curves, following a collection of what were pompously named ‘hills’ and which, in fact, were mere mounds, not much taller than a horseman. Close to the horizon, the road fell out of view, entering the forest. Somewhere, in the middle of the forest, it split, and the left branch headed north, toward Arad. Her eyes closed, Saliné remembered the carriage which, five days ago, took Jar
a and Vio away, and tears ran down her face. I am alone, she thought for the hundredth time, wiping her face. All her days since had been the same: she played the calm game during the day, in front of Aron and Bucur, and cried during the night. A lonely prisoner. She shook her head. Most of the servants, and all the important ones, in the palace, were replaced with Aron’s creatures, and she felt surrounded by hostile people. I have to think. Yet all she could do was to grieve, the images of her mother and sister coming and going in her mind. And Mohor’s image too. She had learned the day before about the ‘accident’, as Aron called it. Even her two maids were replaced, by two older women from Seged, Aron’s castle, and one of them, Gria, was a shrew, repeatedly challenging Saliné in front of other people. I have to ignore her; Saliné shook her head. There is no way to replace Gria and receive at least Ava back. Ava was one year younger than Saliné and, still almost a child, she always brought a breeze of cheerfulness into Saliné’s life which, even before the taking of Severin by Aron, was not easy to find. She was betrothed by the Circle to Bucur, a man she despised because he had drugged and raped her, and she had to play her role with grace. They don’t just want to control what I am doing and who I am meeting; they want to control my mind too. I have to think. Until that day, she had been confined to her small suite, consisting of only a bedroom that was small too, and an antechamber that was larger. Codrin’s image came to her, and she fought hard to suppress it. Saliné had to play the role of the obedient fiancée, and twice a day, she was forced to eat with Bucur, at lunch and dinner. Codrin’s lovely ghost was a risk to her game. I hope that he escapes; the Circle will surely try to kill him. “Codrin is strong,” she said out loud, and turned her head abruptly, even knowing that she was alone in her antechamber – a prisoner is never careful enough. They freed me today from a small cage into a larger one. I need to exploit this.

  “The market is working again,” Aron said, quietly seething about how much each lost day had cost him. It was one of their dinners together where Saliné had to force the food to go down her throat, and had to do it graciously.

  “Things are slowly going back to normal,” Bucur agreed. “Isn’t that so, Saliné?”

  “How should I know? I have not stepped outside the palace for a while.” Her ability to understand the concealed meanings that hide behind inconspicuous words had been greatly enhanced over the last year, when she had to hide herself away and learn how to interpret meaning from other people’s reactions. She could clearly see a tinge of expectation in both Aron’s and Bucur’s postures. “I would like to see the market again.”

  “This not the right time to visit the market.” With a brief gesture, Aron dismissed Saliné’s plea. “People are stirred up by some nefarious men spreading lies about what happened when Orban took the city. There was no other way to save Severin from him. Orban forced my hand, and one day I will pay him back. Bucur will pay him. And you. Together, you will grow stronger than we are today. All this is just a temporary solution until the Circle convinces Orban to release Jara and leave Severin alone.”

  You and the Circle sold Mother to Orban. “One more reason to let me go into the market,” Saliné insisted. “People are accustomed to see me there each week. My absence will give even more justification to those spreading the lies.”

  “Well,” Aron rubbed his chin. “Maybe you are right. You will take two guards with you.”

  “Ava, my maid should be enough.”

  “Do you want to go or not?” Aron snapped, and Saliné just nodded, trying to understand Aron’s mind on that subject. “Good. For your own sake, you are not to see Ava for a while. Take one of your new maids and Karel will give you two guards.” Karel was the new Spatar of Severin.

  “Thank you,” Saliné said and finished her meal in silence. Aron accepted too fast. Why? The guards? They will make me look like a traitor, but they may make me look like a prisoner too, which I am. It puzzled her that Aron had opened the discussion about the market, in a veiled way, of course, and she knew him well enough to realize that it was more than just a slip of the tongue.

  Aron took a long stare at her, but Saliné had learned from experience to lock her feelings away and try to forget them when she needed to. It was how she’d survived the last year. It was only Bucur that she could not fully play – he had more experience with all sorts of women and their feelings – and that thought always sent cold shivers down her spine. She was afraid of him, afraid that he could use his charm on her, even though they were to be married in a year’s time.

  Mohor’s servants, those who were not thrown out of the palace, viewed Saliné with mixed feelings. Some thought her a traitor too, others saw her as a victim, but none was ready to have much faith in her. Fear stopped them. It did not help that Aron had kept her in isolation until the previous day, and it did not help that her own maids had been replaced with two women brought to Severin by Aron. During the evening, she tried to imagine how her trip to the market would turn out, but she had to give up; she knew nothing about what had happened in the city after Aron took Severin over Mohor’s dead body, yet the thrill of leaving her small cage kept her awake until late in the night.

  Going out through the palace gate gave Saliné a sense of freedom, and the impulse to run came to her. She breathed deeply and suppressed it, walking at leisure into the plaza in front of the palace, followed by Gria, the oldest of her new maids, who was in her late thirties. From the time they had spent together, Saliné understood that she was as intelligent as she was mischievous. And Gria was Aron’s loyal tool. Turning her head back, Saliné was happy that both Gria and the two guards were walking six feet behind her; she was not in the mood for some forced social conversation – six days of pretending that she was pleased to have Gria as her maid were more than enough. The thought of running away passed again through her mind. She calmed herself and took the street going straight into the market; Severin was a small town. That was where she met the first persons that did not belong to the palace: a family with two children. She smiled warmly at them, only to receive back angry scowls from both adults. Once they had passed, Saliné bit her lip and walked on. A brief glance back told her that the distance between her and the guards had increased by two more paces. Her hand went to check a tiny hidden place on her dress; under the belt, she had placed one of the knives, made of flexible steel, which Codrin had given to her when they still trained together. I have to train again, she thought, anxiety seeping into her.

  “Whore,” a venomous whisper woke her up, yet it was too late to see the face of the angry woman who was walking away, without turning her head.

  Saliné sped up, trying hard not to run. She was at least lucky that no one crossed her path again until she entered the market. The market was not yet full, but there were many people there, and she felt their heavy glances. At least, they were silent, making space around her, as if they feared to touch her. She took a deep breath. Cinnamon, cloves, perhaps and lavender wafted over the smell of many flavored pies, and over everything hung the strong aroma of apples just cooked in the stove. Abruptly, she went into the first booth on the left. It was the place she always visited first during her walks to the market.

  “Good morning Velna.” She smiled at the woman who sold the best silk in Severin. “Do you have new things to show me?” She waited patiently, but Velna acted as if Saliné was not there. “Velna?” she said louder this time, only to be ignored again. “Well,” she said in a sad voice, “it seems that since I became a prisoner in Severin, you have forgotten how many times I visited and talked with you before.”

  “Don’t speak, just leave,” Velna whispered, and turned abruptly toward another woman who had just come in, and they started to talk in low voices. What Saliné could hear was the same word: whore. She breathed deeply, and left, to see Gria approaching with a thin smile on her lips.

  She went to four more booths and stalls, the ones she had visited the most in the past and forged some links with the sellers, and the same co
ld reception was repeated. I have only Ferd left, she sighed, and walked to the booth which belonged to his father, the second Mester of Severin. I hope that Ferd is there.

  “Good morning, Ferd,” she said, with more joy than she wanted to show. “What new sweets have arrived from Livonia?” She locked eyes with him, her heart beating faster.

  “Not many,” Ferd shrugged, arranging some boxes on the counter.

  “Well,” she said, despondently, “it seems that there are not many things for me in the market. Being Aron’s prisoner has changed me into a pariah. I wish you good luck with Aron.” This time anger suppressed her bitterness, and she turned abruptly, to walk away. On weak legs, it took her more time than usual.

  “Things are fluid now, but we may receive something soon, lady Saliné. Come again in three days at the same time, and we may talk more,” Ferd said in a low voice; yet it was gentle, and she gestured loosely at him, walking away. The three Cerberuses followed her.

  Aron told me that Saliné is a clever girl, but she seems quite stupid, Gria mused. And the chain of surprises has just started; she smiled.

  A few moments after Saliné left the market through the same narrow street, a woman who was leaning against the wall, moved at leisure to block her path. “Whore!” she cried, pointing at Saliné, and two men joined the woman, shouting, “Whore! Whore! You killed Mohor!” Attracted by the cries, more people came from the market to watch. Breathing deeply, Saliné ignored them and slightly changed her direction, trying to pass between the wall of the house on the left and the woman. The woman gripped her shoulder, then tried to sneak a hand out and pull Saliné by her hair. Saliné swirled, and elbowed the woman in her ribs. In that fast turn, she saw one of her guards winking at the men shouting at her, and Gria smiling. Out of air, the woman gasped, releasing Saliné’s shoulder, and she walked away from the three assailants, without turning back. After a few moments, the guards suddenly remembered that they were there to protect Saliné, and walked to catch up with her. The cries of ‘You killed Mohor,’ still followed her, and she fought hard against her tears, yet her mind registered in a back corner that there were not many people shouting at her.