‘But every pile of gold holds a copper. We drove them back but killed relatively few of them. Across the river lies the best part of two thousand men. I will bet you my daughter’s first tooth that a thousand, maybe fifteen hundred, of them will be on the way to Tantala as we speak. You will not be fighting a thousand men there; it will be at least double that. Our scouts have all but confirmed this.’
‘Would they leave the south so undefended?’ asked Reynard. ‘Wouldn’t they be expecting you to attack them again?’
‘The element of surprise has gone,’ said Esric. ‘They are dug in across the river. I could go north, cross the river at night and try attacking them in the rear, but it would be very risky; we could lose everything we have just gained.’
‘You can bet their king will be sending reserves, or hastily pressed men, to bolster his army also,’ said Felmere. ‘Their quality may be questionable but the numbers alone will boost their morale. If it were just a thousand men we were facing, I would be hammering them right now with everything we have, but our men need resting, wounds need treating and supply lines need organising. We lost nearly a hundred men in the battle with three hundred carrying injuries of one kind or another. Digging in for the winter may be our best option.’
‘Why not send a man to the Arshuman palace at Kitev to present their king with our terms?’ Maynard, the eldest man there, was known as something of a pragmatist.’
‘It is not my place.’ Felmere drained his goblet. ‘It is up to Duke Leontius and, as the possibility of total victory still exists, I doubt he will be interested. The next move is ours to make, unless he writes to me with different instructions, but I can’t remember the last time that happened. Oh and Esric, well done, you learn fast!’
‘Thank you, Lukas. I can even send you a small force to reinforce your army if required.’
‘Thank you, but no. We are getting more men all the time. Fenchard has brought more as has Lasgaart. In fact, I am in a position to help you. Another mage is arriving. Leontius is pressing hard for victory. He will work for you when he arrives.’
‘Who is this mage, Baron?’ asked Marcus.
‘He has been here before; you probably know him? Name of Mikel.’
Ha! thought Cheris. Bored with little Elsa already? Can’t keep away from me, can you? She had to smile.
‘That would be a bonus indeed.’ Esric sounded elated. ‘Perhaps I can attack them over the next few weeks, keep them busy, stop any further reinforcements coming north.’
‘Perhaps,’ said Felmere. He seemed to be thinking. ‘The decision needs to be made. Consolidate over winter and attack in the spring, or attack in the next few weeks and try to drive them all the way back to Roshythe. Both arguments have their strengths and weakness.’
‘I see no weaknesses in attacking now,’ said Fenchard.
‘There are many.’ It was Dominic Hartfield’s turn to speak. ‘We have tired men and an injured mage; if we are driven back, it will boost their morale at a cost to ours. Even if we win, we will have to press on deep into the winter. We would have to camp by Roshythe and dig our own defences in the hard ground. Our supply lines would be stretched and we would be vulnerable to any counter-attack their king could muster if he didn’t sue for peace.’
‘Yet if we stay here we lose a golden opportunity for victory. Their king is a sybarite, but he is not stupid. He may well have no choice but to sue for peace.’ Fenchard was animated, excited. Was he that desperate for glory? Cheris thought.
‘What we are talking about is taking a risk to end the war quickly, or staying safe and prolonging it still further but at the same time securing our position. Fenchard, the men here have seen many more battles than you; it makes us more cautious. None of us want to lose more of our men than we have to.’ Felmere sounded weary; his eyes were red and not only from drink.
‘Perhaps you are all so used to war you cannot imagine any other life. Imagine, one victory, just one, could end this for ever.’
‘I have heard that so many times,’ said Maynard. ‘And we are still here, still doing the same thing.’
‘Ask the men,’ said Fenchard. ‘They have won a great victory. They would fight anyone, anywhere right now. We have mages and they do not. They have no leader and are disorganised.’ His eyes blazed. ‘It is within our grasp!’
‘You speak well, Fenchard,’ said Dominic. ‘It is the duty of knights to seek glory in battle but not to throw lives away senselessly. We are in a much stronger position now than we were a year ago. We could advance in spring with all the dice in our favour.’
For the next half-hour the argument swung back and forth, from Fenchard’s zeal to Maynard’s phlegmatism, until the man in charge decided to intervene.
‘We have reached an impasse,’ said Felmere. ‘Maybe we should have a vote, see which way the opinion sways. Mages, as this is purely a military matter, I will not include you in this.’
One by one the barons and other soldiers gave their yea or nay. Eventually only Trask, Fenchard, Lasgaart, Ulgar, Reynard and Felmere himself were left to vote, with the scores tied.
‘I am obviously for an attack now,’ said Fenchard, ‘so count me as a yes.’
‘I cannot disagree with the Baron ,’ growled Trask. ‘I am a yes also.’
‘The yeas lead by two then,’ said Felmere. ‘Lasgaart?’
‘It is difficult,’ Lasgaart replied. ‘I see Fenchard’s vision but the winters here can be cruel; fighting through it is never easy. I will have to say no to this.’
Cheris saw Fenchard blanch slightly. He was counting on Lasgaart’s vote, she thought.
‘I am a no also,’ said Reynard. ‘I am standing with Dominic in this.’
‘We are tied again,’ said Felmere. ‘Ulgar, it is just you and me.’
‘Fenchard is a lad I have taken under my wing,’ the scarred man said. ‘I have tried to mentor him in his responsibilities; he is a man with much promise. Haslan Falls is thriving under his leadership; as you can see, he has brought a thousand men to the battlefield, nearly as many as you, Lukas, and more than me.’ He turned directly to his protégé. ‘I can certainly see your arguments, Fenchard’ – he sighed – ‘but no, son, I cannot agree with you – war is not a game of chance. You only ever attack when you are certain of victory and too many things can go wrong here. I am sorry.’
Fenchard looked at Ulgar; his face looked as if it was set in frost and granite, his eyes flared with suppressed anger.’ The boy has a temper, Cheris thought.
‘It is up to me then,’ said Felmere. ‘The nays lead by one but I have the casting vote if there is a tie. If I vote yes then we will have a tie so then it will be solely my decision.’ He sighed and put his head in both hands. When he looked at his audience again, he appeared to have aged ten years in a second.
‘You know, gentlemen, if you had put this to me at any time in the past ten years, except now I would have no hesitation in saying we consolidate, bide our time and wait. When this war started, my boy, Kraven, was one year old. Now, he is eleven and sits with his stepmother in the castle in Felmere knowing nothing of peace. If we play the cautious game, maybe in two or three years we can claim victory, but then again maybe we won’t. Maybe we never will. I feel that to win this cursed war someone has to take a chance, risk all in a game of hazard. If we lose, we fall back to Grest and see out the winter anyway. If we win though, if we could kick their arses all the way to Roshythe or Kitev, maybe we are just one winter away from victory, or a peace negotiated on our terms and in our favour.’ He hesitated going over things in his head one more time.
‘Artorus help me, but we will attack them at Tantala! We need some time for injuries to heal and for further drafts of men to arrive. I also want those two bridges built over the river under the hill. Two weeks should be enough. Two weeks, no, make it ten days, gentlemen, and we move on Tantala. May Mytha grant us victory and a final end to everything we have worked for. The decision is made.’
Cheris noted the m
ixed reaction in the room from Fenchard’s exultant face to Dominic’s worried frown. Only Sir Trask was completely unreadable and there was something about that that unsettled her even more.
The barons started to get up and mill around informally, chatting with each other; the meeting was obviously at an end. She wondered why they had to attend in the first place as their contribution had been nil (Marcus would explain later that it was protocol owing to the mages’ unique status), but it had been nice for her to get out, notwithstanding the grisly scenes in the square. She wondered if they would be leaving now when she saw Baron Esric heading towards them. He smiled warmly at them.
‘It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,’ he said to them. She got the impression he would be far more at home dancing the terrastep with the elegant perfumed ladies of the court at a formal ball than slogging over a muddy battlefield spattered in blood and covered with wounds. There would be no shortage of elegant ladies wishing the same, she was sure. She returned the smile while Marcus replied.
‘It is a similar pleasure for us; you remind me very much of your father. I did actually fight by his side in the earlier days of the war when, if I recall, you were training with the Silver Lances in Tanaren. He was a generous man and is a grievous loss to us all.’
‘Yes, he was,’ said Esric. ‘But miss him though we do, the present is all that matters. Tell me, do either of you know this mage who will be joining me?’
‘Mikel?’ said Cheris. ‘Yes, he is a very good friend...’ (Did she hear Marcus snigger?) ‘He is nearer my age than Marcus and will not let you down. Unlike me, he has some experience of war already. When you see him, tell him I send my fondest wishes and ask him, who is feeding the cats.’
‘The cats?’ Esric frowned. ‘You obviously do know each other well, I see. Fear not, I will convey your message word for word when I see him.’
‘Oh and if you have a sister, keep her at a safe distance.’
Esric laughed. ‘I have two sisters actually, back in the southern capital, Sketta, and I doubt either of them would be too displeased at any close attention from a handsome man.’
‘Then they are little different to most women of my acquaintance, and I had probably better include myself in that assessment. Is that not the case, Marcus?’
‘I dare say,’ said Marcus. ‘But do not listen to her; she is teasing you. He will greatly aid your cause in the south.’
‘Tell me, Baron Esric,’ Cheris asked, ‘why are there two separate wars going on in the north and the south?’
‘Oh you can blame the Arshumans for that!’ said Esric. ‘When they first attacked us they made a two-pronged assault into our lands, a large army in the north and a smaller one in the south. No doubt their intention was to meet in Athkaril, having swept past all of the Seven Rivers. The northern army nearly succeeded but we blocked off the southern one before they could cross the Vinoyen. And there have been two wars fought here ever since.’
‘So few people seem aware of this, though.’
Esric laughed, ‘Indeed, if the whole of the Seven Rivers are embroiled in a forgotten war, then we must be fighting the forgotten, forgotten war. It is not a heartening thought but at long last the Grand Duke seems to have taken notice of us. Perhaps the Gods are swinging our way at long last.’
‘We can but hope,’ said Marcus.
Suddenly through the door came another figure. It was Anaya. She looked a little red in the face and her robe was dishevelled. She came up to her fellow mages.
‘Sorry for bothering the two of you. I do not normally come to these meetings but I need to ask both of you as well as Sir Norton and Baron Felmere something.’ Her breath was short, as if she had been running and her clothes were wet. The rain had obviously broken outside. ‘It seemed a good idea to catch you all in the same place while I could. Tell me, what has been decided here?’
‘A further attack on the Arshumans in ten days or so,’ said Marcus. ‘Are you able to patch up the wounded in that time?’
‘Ten days.’ She looked thoughtful. ‘Um, most but not all, Marcus. It is not a major problem really.’
‘Well, come on,’ said Cheris with a grin. ‘Out with it, what is it you wish to ask?’
‘Magical business,’ said Esric. ‘I will take my leave and hope to speak with you another time.’
After he left, Anaya spoke. ‘As you know, I have been away from the college for many years. It has left me a little ... rusty, with some aspects of the theory and practice of our art. Having the two of you here is an opportunity from the Gods.’
‘So what is it you wish from us?’ asked Marcus.
‘Baron Felmere has kindly loaned me a small house. It is only an hour or so from the town of Shayer Ridge as the crow flies but on this side of the river. It is also just a day’s hard walk from the town of Felmere itself and about two to three days’ travel by horse from where we are now. I have a couple of tomes there and made some notes last winter that I would like to discuss with you both. A kind of a symposium, I suppose; it would just last a day or two then we could return here. My patients will be fine with the nurses for a few days. What do you say? Are you agreeable?’
She seemed so keen, so eager, that there was only one answer they could possibly give.
‘Of course,’ said Marcus. ‘I am sure both Cheris and I would be happy to attend. You will need to speak to Felmere, though, and Sir Norton.’
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘yes, I will do that now.’ She left them and headed for Sir Norton, who was speaking to Emeric.
‘It will be a change of scene, if nothing else,’ Marcus said to Cheris.
‘Like being back in one of your lessons again,’ she groaned. ‘I am not a natural student.’
‘Well, as if I hadn’t noticed that before,’ he laughed. ‘Just be grateful you have natural ability. I am sure you slept through most of my tutorials.’
‘Marcus,’ she asked, her voice lowered, ‘if we had been given a vote over this battle, would you have been a yea or nay?’
‘A nay,’ he said. ‘It is probably my age but I think this course of action could be rash.’
‘Then, if it had been up to us, there would be no battle in ten days. Why is it I feel we are underestimating our opponent?’
‘Because we are,’ came the succinct reply.
Anaya was speaking to Felmere now; with him were Fenchard and Lasgaart. At length she returned to them. She was smiling.
‘The Baron agrees,’ she said. ‘As long as we are back within ten days. I have some matters to attend to first, so maybe we can leave the day after tomorrow.’
‘We are at your disposal,’ said Marcus. ‘I doubt that either Cheris or myself has any matters stopping us from attending.’
‘If nothing else,’ said Cheris, ‘it will alleviate any boredom. Is this house in those woods under the mountains?’
‘Yes,’ said Anaya, ‘It is a pretty place.’
‘Good. I would like to see woods. Shall we leave here now?’
Sir Norton was coming towards them. After saying their goodbyes, they left the house leaving the barons to their machinations.
It was raining heavily. The square was now free of people, well, living ones anyway. She saw the cage was empty and that there were more heads on spears than there had been earlier in the day. She dully remembered during the council hearing cheers coming in through the open doorway; she assumed it was one cheer per lopped head. After getting in the wagon they rode back through the street, the rain increasing the pungency of the refuse in the open sewer. She would be perfectly happy if she never entered Grest again.
After passing through the walls, the wagon slowed; the dirt path was rapidly turning into mud. Pulling her hood tightly over her head, she thought through the events of the day. More mud and war seemed to sum it up. Getting off the island had seemed like a great opportunity at the time, but now with all her heart she knew she would have been quite happy to return there.
35
There w
as an hour, maybe an hour and a half, of daylight left when Itheya returned to him. With a gesture for him to follow, she led him out of the Zamazhenka and turned east, following its wall. Curious to see where she was going, he willingly followed. They were at the side of the lake now; the wind had picked up again and was playfully tugging at the hem of her tunic. She stopped and waited for him.
‘There,’ she said, pointing, ‘we will take a boat; I will show you the lake.’ Ahead, the shore of the island curved around a little, following its line in a semicircle, and lying at rest in the tiny harbour it created were a number of small sailing boats. They were colourfully painted, mainly in yellows and blues, and all had carved figureheads depicting birds or fish or snakes. She skipped playfully across to the first boat and hopped in. It was only big enough for two people. Morgan followed her a lot more gingerly.
‘Won’t you be cold?’ he asked.
She looked behind him. Morgan turned and saw one of the people who had served him food earlier in the day running up to the boat. He passed her a black cloak, which she arranged over her knees. She smiled at Morgan. ‘Do you wish for one, too?’
‘No thank you; I have my own cloak.’
The servant released the rope and handed the end to Morgan. Taking a paddle, Itheya gently steered the boat out of the harbour. Once there, she hoisted the sail; it was a lemon colour, a shard of brightness in the deepening gloom. Within seconds the wind caught it and they started to skip over the lake’s surface.
‘I will only be able to show you a little of the lake now. We may have time to see more another day, but I doubt it. We have Armentele coming up and then the krasa and I have to watch you and perform my other duties.’
‘What about tomorrow?’
‘Maybe. I will be dancing in the festival and will need to practise with the other women. While I am doing that, you will have to stay in your room – unless Father wishes otherwise.’
The Forgotten War Page 50
