Shadow of the Raven (The Reckoning Book 1)

by Ward, Matthew

  "Is something bothering you, warleader?" Eirac asked.

  Now that he mentioned it, there was an unusual undercurrent of worry on Calda's face.

  She didn't reply immediately, clearly trying to find the proper words. "Advisor Tyro went to meet them. When he returned he told me that he couldn't decide whether the other Tressians were in awe of Lady Trelan, or scared of her."

  I could imagine either being the case, but Eirac didn't appear concerned. "Has Tyro made the arrangements I requested?"

  "Yes majesty," Calda replied.

  "Then I think it's time I saw the shape of this puzzle for myself," the Emperor decreed. "You will, of course, both be accompanying me?"

  Despite Eirac's tone, it was a command, not a question. Not that it mattered. I had no intention of not being, and I suspected that it would have taken wild horses to drag Calda away.

  We followed Eirac from the tent, the royal guard filing out behind us. Mine and Calda's horses were waiting for us, as were a dozen magnificently armoured destriers for the Emperor and his guard. Eirac ordered Calda's weapon be returned and, after a moment's thought, gave a similar instruction regarding mine. This was an unexpected and welcome development – at least for me. None of the imperial bodyguard looked entirely happy with the decision, but they obeyed.

  Eirac reacted with mild surprise when he saw my sword for the first time. "That's the blade? Well, that's certainly interesting."

  "How do you mean?" I asked.

  "It was a gift from your mother to your father before you were born. It was once a family heirloom of the Saran line, and your mother recovered it, though she never said from where. She always maintained it carried Ashana's blessing. Your father wore the thing for years."

  "Are you saying it's enchanted?" I asked in surprise.

  "Possibly. It's at least as likely as your friends' theory about the power of repentant blood. Perhaps it's a manifestation of your mother's love for your father. It doesn't matter."

  I frowned. "Why do you say that?"

  "Edric, not everything in this world can be explained by you or I. Some things exist simply for us to enjoy, appreciate... or survive." He sighed. "You say that sword has saved your life?"

  "Many times now."

  "Then my advice is to concentrate on the what, and not the why," he said kindly. "Now, I think Tyro is getting impatient. We should probably go and meet our guests."

  *******

  We rode beyond the camp's boundaries to find Tyro waiting for us. I couldn't tell whether or not he was getting impatient – the softly-spoken advisor was too wily an operator to let his feelings show. With a brief bow to acknowledge Eirac's arrival, he led us to his chosen meeting point: a small grove of trees, equidistant from the two armies. The Tressians were there already, waiting on restless horses. Arianwyn aside, none of them had Tyro's self-control – impatience was plain on every face.

  Front and centre was the man I took to be General Marlon. He was clad in plate amour and wore a tabard depicting a crescent moon. Both his face and bald head were heavily scarred. Clearly Marlon was a true creature of the battlefield. A rarity in the Tressian command.

  Arianwyn rode at Marlon's right, the guardians ever-present at her side. She no longer radiated light, but whether that was because she was exhausted, or because she didn't want to appear intimidating, I had no idea. I would have asked– in fact, I wanted very much to return to her side – but such an obvious display of friendship would have sat oddly in such a formal setting.

  On Marlon's left rode a youngish blond man with an outrageous moustache and a goatee beard to match. He was clad head to foot in grey, and introduced himself simply as 'Morecet'. He gave no indication as to whether that was his first or last name, or indeed of what rank he held – an omission that led me to believe that he held no rank at all. But why then was he present?

  Behind Marlon rode six Tressian knights. Whilst their swords were sheathed, not one of them looked to welcome the current situation.

  Seeing that his own bodyguard outnumbered that of the man he'd come to meet, Eirac bade all but six royal guards to withdraw. That left ten Hadari facing the Tressians: Eirac, Tyro, Calda, six royal guards, and myself.

  "General; Lady." Eirac addressed Marlon and Arianwyn in flawless Tressian. "I understand you wish not only to apologise for your precipitate actions in recent days, but also to offer an alliance?"

  The play of emotion across Marlon's face told more than words ever could. On the ride over, I'd wondered how much Arianwyn had told Marlon. His troubled visage – combined with the lack of any outburst – suggested that she'd spared no detail.

  "So I understand." Marlon replied at last. His resonant voice lacked in friendliness. The general was far from happy with the situation, but had apparently chosen to tolerate it, even if he couldn't bring himself to embrace it willingly.

  "I must confess that I'm uncertain of its wisdom myself," said Eirac. "After all, our peoples have been at war for so long. Many of my warleaders are unhappy with the prospect. Some insist on retribution for the lives lost this morning."

  That was laying it on a little thick. Calda had already told me less than fifty of our soldiers had been slain – a small tragedy, certainly, but nothing in the grand scheme of things. I opened my mouth to speak, but Arianwyn silenced me with a look.

  "And who rules the empire, the Emperor or his warleaders?" Marlon asked scornfully.

  "The Emperor, naturally." Eirac swatted a fly from his horse's neck.

  "And yet you worry about their wishes?"

  "Let us say rather that I am concerned I should not go against the mood of my people without cause." Eirac tapped the circlet about his head. "This is not a bludgeon. It is a symbol of leadership, and leaders listen to their followers. Perhaps that is why so many kingdoms and principalities have joined the Empire over the years, and why Tressia has always stood alone." Eirac pressed on, giving Marlon no time to respond to the challenge in his words. "Of course, if you wish to stand alone now..."

  The Tressian general was trapped, and he knew it. But he refused to be humbled. "Your majesty, I will speak bluntly. I have spent my life fighting your 'great' empire. I have shed my blood. I have lost more friends and comrades than I can count. If it were my decision, I'd spit on this alliance. But I have my orders. I can't argue with the seal upon these documents, and I won't dispute their purpose."

  At Marlon's gesture, a member of his bodyguard trotted forward and presented Eirac with the documents Karov had provided. Tyro accepted the offering on Eirac's behalf. For a few moments there was silence as shrewd eyes examined the text.

  "Everything appears to be as the prince described, majesty," Tyro announced at last. "I see no reason not to proceed."

  Arianwyn flashed me a small smile. A silent cheer welled up in my heart. We'd done it. We'd actually done it!

  Then Eirac spoke again, and my jubilation stalled. "There is still the matter of the broken truce. I'd like to know why you forced today's confrontation."

  Marlon and Morecet exchanged looks but said nothing.

  "Do you want me to tell them?" Arianwyn asked frostily.

  Apparently, they did not. Marlon shifted fractionally in his saddle, then explained. "My original orders were to guard the Thrakkian frontier. Four days ago I received fresh instructions to bring my army north with all speed – as proof had been uncovered that the city was about to be attacked."

  "From whom did these orders come?" I asked.

  "From Lord Solomon, ambassador."

  "That's impossible." Solomon couldn't have known how events were going to play out, could he?

  "I can assure you that it is possible," Morecet replied. "He gave me them in person six days ago. I half-killed several horses carrying them so far, so swiftly."

  That explained Morecet's presence, and why he'd offered so few details about himself. He was clearly one of Solomon's trusted men, which I suspected meant that I could trust him – and his words – not one whit.
>
  "But..." I began.

  "It's really quite simple Edric," Arianwyn put in. "Six days ago would be about the time that you met Solomon for the first time, When you refused to cooperate..." I'd have used the term 'escaped' myself. "...he must have worried about his ability to prevent the turn of events we're now living. You must admit, things might have gone differently if General Marlon's army had been at the city two nights ago."

  "Even so, the Thrakkian frontier is what, six days march?"

  "Seven," Marlon corrected with a note of pride. "Under normal circumstances. But I'm surely you'll agree circumstances are far from normal. Our home was endangered; we spared no effort."

  Privately, I acknowledged a new respect for Marlon. To have brought his army northward in roughly half the normal time, and to have it arrive ready and willing to fight a battle against a much larger force, told me a great deal.

  "None of this answers my question," Eirac interjected, perhaps irritated that I'd taken control of his conversation.

  "No it doesn't, majesty," Arianwyn agreed. "Unfortunately, some of General Marlon's outriders sighted a portion of your army some leagues to the south, and concluded you'd broken the truce. As I understand it, Solomon's orders were incredibly vague, so the general assumed they referred to your forces..."

  "...and marched north to confront us," Eirac finished, his voice fatalistic. "Warleader Cadvar, why were our forces so far south?"

  "Brigands were operating out of that region, majesty. Aidon thought it best to respond in force."

  "And yet he told me nothing of it?" Eirac asked dangerously.

  "He felt it was a detail with which you should not have been bothered, majesty."

  "And yet you knew of it, and didn't tell me?"

  Calda hesitated. "I... I agreed with him, majesty. There didn't seem to be any harm."

  Eirac snorted. "I have wished for many months now that you and he would see eye-to-eye. Now it transpires that the one time it actually occurred, it nearly plunged us into war. I shall be more careful concerning my wishes in future. Clearly Ashana has it in mind to amuse herself at my expense."

  "Majesty, I..." Calda began.

  Eirac waved her words away. "Prince Edric; Lady Arianwyn. It would appear our peoples owe you their thanks for forestalling a renewal of war. These circumstances make it obvious to me why old wounds cannot be left to fester." To my surprise he then bowed to me, to Arianwyn, and finally to General Marlon. "On behalf of the Hadari Empire, I accept the terms of the alliance. I beg that you join me in forging friendship as eagerly as our forebears prosecuted war."

  The Emperor walked his horse forward until he was no more than a pace from Marlon and offered the general his right hand. "If I understand my nephew correctly, the threat you were summoned to face still holds sway, and may yet prove the doom of us all. Shall we face it together?"

  Marlon hesitated for a moment, then reached out and clasped Eirac's proffered hand in one of his own. Arianwyn grinned. Calda let out a whoop of delight.

  I thought only of the challenges ahead, and hoped the forces we'd gathered would be equal to the task.

  Ten

  With negotiations concluded, the delegates departed to mobilise their respective armies. To my surprise, I realised Eirac intended to lead our forces himself – a decision that would doubtless cause a stir amongst his advisors. I confess I wasn't entirely comfortable with it myself. My uncle was a good man and a just ruler, but he'd never distinguished himself as a warrior. Accordingly, I bade Arianwyn a temporary farewell and accompanied Eirac, hoping to change his mind.

  My uncle was polite, but unyielding. "I understand your concerns Edric, but you must realise the opportunity you've laid before me requires I act personally."

  He paused and looked around. We had yet to reach the Hadari lines. Only the royal guard were close enough to hear his words, and the Emperor had few secrets from his protectors. Tyro and Calda had ridden ahead, a situation I believed the warleader had engineered precisely so I could have this very conversation. I'd not asked that of her, but she knew me very well, did Calda Cadvar.

  Satisfied his words wouldn't carry to unwelcome ears, Eirac continued his explanation. "I've no illusions as to my abilities as a warleader, nor even a warrior if it comes to that. Nonetheless, I need to be there. If our people put themselves at risk for the Tressians, then perhaps this peace will last. But if the prideful Hadari Emperor stands in the battle line instead of skulking in a tent some leagues away, it has a better chance of enduring."

  "That's the reason?" I confess, I found his logic compelling.

  "That's the reason. I hope now we can dispense with the polite lecture you were preparing."

  "I honestly don't know what to say."

  Eirac laughed. "That alone makes the decision worthwhile. Just say 'thank you' and we'll speak no more about it. Peace was your dream, not mine. If you weren't so stubborn, you'd be on this throne instead of me, and you'd do exactly as I am." He brought his horse to a halt and faced me, his eyes friendly but serious. "Don't worry, I've no intention of commanding our army, or indulging in heroism. Those I will leave to Maglor and Calda, and very glad they will be of that. But I will be there. Where the Emperor rides, there too rides the spirit of our people – or so we have always been taught. Let us hope it is enough to bring about the victory you seek."

  There were no words for such generosity. "Thank you, uncle."

  He leaned forward in the saddle and offered me his hand. I took it, and he pulled me into an embrace. "Thank me by coming through this alive," he rejoined, releasing me. "I'm the ruler our people have, but I'm not the ruler they need. We'll speak again nephew, but now I've preparations to make."

  I took the hint. "Of course, uncle."

  Apparently, Arianwyn didn't care much for the company of her countrymen, for I found her in the wood in which I'd left her. She sat with her back braced against a fallen tree. Save for her steed and the two guardians, she was alone, watching the commotion in the middle distance as the Tressians prepared to depart. "How did things go with your uncle?"

  "He won't be dissuaded, but his reasons are unanswerable." I slid from my saddle and took a seat beside her. "I'm surprised not to find you with your countrymen."

  Arianwyn smiled ruefully. "I didn't want to distract them. Marlon's the only one who doesn't look to be on tenterhooks every time I speak, but he's not friendly, just suspicious. Without Karov's documents I couldn't have made this meeting happen."

  "Marlon's not a believer?"

  "Apparently not. Under other circumstances I'd welcome that. I don't like playing at being a great power."

  We sat in companionable silence for a time. After a while, Arianwyn drifted off to sleep, leaving me alone with my jumbled thoughts.

  Calda found us a few hours later. "Mount up. We're leaving."

  I looked up at her with surprise. "The army's ready to go?"

  She shook her head. "Not quite. The Emperor wants to march alongside the Tressians, so we need to wait for them to limber up those ridiculous cannons."

  My ears pricked up at that. I'd heard that the Tressians had developed a handful of brimstone siege weapons, but I'd never seen one fired in anger.

  Neither, apparently, had Calda. "I think the Tressians just like carting them around. They seem worried they might get damaged if put to actual use." She laughed quietly to herself. "It'll be at least another hour or so before they're ready, but I'm going now. The Emperor's given me permission to lead a small vanguard. I've fifty southwealders mounted on good horses, and I assumed the two of you would like to join us."

  Arianwyn was already hauling herself into her horse's saddle.

  "Looks like we're coming with you," I said.

  *******

  Arianwyn and I rode in the thick of Calda's vanguard. She'd made a great play of introducing us to her company, insisting they watch out for our foolish mistakes. One of us, she told them, was a city-dweller, and a Tressian at that. The other one, she cont
inued, was worse, being a pampered prince who'd let his skills grow dull.

  The rangers laughed to hear us so described, and I laughed alongside, for much of what Calda said was true. Arianwyn, on the other hand, didn't seem terribly impressed, which told me she'd understood at least some of Calda's fluid stream of Imperial. She was mollified by the level of respect with which the rangers treated her. It also helped that we were rode in bright sunlight for the first part of the journey. Despite the brisk pace, both Arianwyn and I ably matched the rangers' pace.

  Calda had chosen her forces well. The rangers travelled light. Their woollen cloaks hid leather armour rather than scale, and their scabbards held short-bladed swords. Few warriors could match the rangers of the southweald for their horse-mastery, and fewer still equalled their accuracy with their white-fletched arrows.

  The rangers didn't ride in a tight column, as cataphracts did, but spread out across the plains in a loose formation that appeared completely haphazard to an untrained eye. Arianwyn took great joy in roaming around the formation, her attentive bronze guardians ever galloping heavily at her heels, and I often found myself riding alone.

  Other than myself and Arianwyn, there was only one other outsider. Morecet rode with us, though I saw no good reason for his presence. "Marlon made the request," Calda said, when she rode close enough to ask. "He'd like a pair of Tressian eyes seeing everything we see, and he doesn't trust your lady's ability to fill that role." Fortunately Arianwyn wasn't close enough to hear.

  I spurred to Morecet's side. His grey garb made him easy to spot amongst the muted browns of the rangers. I noticed that he too had a short bow stashed amongst his saddlebags. That by itself was an unusual affectation for a Tressian, though I doubted he'd have carried the weapon around if he weren't able to use it.

  "Greetings, highness." Morecet spoke cheerfully enough, but neither the smile nor the warmth of his greeting reached his eyes. He was taking my measure, though to what end I wasn't sure. "A fine day to be on horseback."