by Greg Curtis
Herrick sat back in his stuffed leather chair and resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. But only just.
Herrick turned to speak to the elder, intending to use the only arrow he had left in his quiver. Fear.
“Elder Varial.” Since every other suggestion he’d offered had been turned down, it was time to turn to fear. “The Reaver’s temple is in Elaris, and Elaris is in the very centre of the world. It is the middle of all he wants to take. To reach the rest of our lands his abominations have to travel through your lands. They have to rebuild their numbers from your people. And they are doing that now. Striking out through Elaris, destroying your towns and cities one by one, consuming your people’s souls so that he can raise his army of conquest from what’s left. Your rangers cannot fight them alone. Your watchmen are destroyed. Your city watches are incapable of defending the towns and cities.”
“In six months, maybe more, maybe less, Elaris will be completely overrun and the Reaver will have an army of unimaginable scale.” He was only telling the man what he surely already knew, but sometimes you just had to return to the bare facts.
“We have to strike long before then. And we have to do it with only two armed forces, the windriders and my armies. We need the rangers. If you will not have them fight under our banner, then we will fight without them. But we still need them to escort our armies through Elaris in peace, and to scout ahead. That’s all. Can you allow them to do that much?”
“King Herrick, we have already agreed to all of that and more. The rangers will ride with you and grant you safe passage through Elaris. They will stand and fight with you shoulder to shoulder against the Reaver. And when it is over they will grant you safe passage home. None of that is in dispute. Only that they will not take their direction from your commander.”
“Because he’s human?” Herrick decided to be blunt.
“Because he does not carry the Mother’s favour.” Elder Varial looked unimpressed through the rippling water. “However there is one among your people who does carry the Mother’s favour. And one that we will be happy to have lead our rangers into battle.”
Herrick suddenly sat up straight in his chair, shocked but suddenly hopeful. If they could find a commander to lead their forces, one who could work with Tyrus, that would be workable.
“He is also one the windriders will be happy to have lead them.” Unexpectedly the queen broke in startling Herrick, as much with the fact that she apparently knew who the elder was speaking of as that she too would follow this same human. Thus far there had been nothing of conciliation in any of her words.
“Who?”
Chapter One Hundred and Four.
It had been a bad morning ever since the message had arrived. Worse than Iros could ever have imagined. And now he was going to add to it. He was going to have to tell Sophelia and Juna.
He didn’t want to. He would have given a lot to be able to turn down his assignment. But it wasn’t a choice. He was a lord of Irothia, and he had responsibilities to the realm. He had a duty to the king. And besides, it wasn’t as if he could even say that there wasn’t some reason for his assignment. In its own unexpected way, it made sense. He had been the envoy to Leafshade, and for some reason he was the only human that the rangers would accept as a leader. And if they were to fight as they had to, they had to follow someone. They needed a leader. An army could not fight well without one.
“Iros.” He looked up as Sophelia walked out on to the terrace and as usual he found himself staring first at her belly. She was already so round, and yet their child wasn’t due for many months. But it wasn’t her shape that shocked him so. It was the knowledge that it was his child that she was carrying. Every time he saw her, saw her beautifully full belly, he kept remembering that that bulge was his. He was going to be a father.
How could that be?
Only a few months before he’d expected to die alone, in a cold dark cell. He’d almost looked forwards to it. Now he was married to the cousin of the man who’d thrown him in that hell, and was going to be a father to a child that was half of the blood of the same family. The Divines had a sense of humour. Duran Timos most of all as he played with the winds of destiny.
Still there was nothing to be done, save tell her. Iros got up and guided her to her seat. He was rewarded with a kiss for his trouble. He couldn’t complain about that. Whatever darkness had happened to have made them husband and wife, she took her role passionately. She denied him nothing, and frequently told him that she loved him. Iros felt guilty about that.
He loved her too, though it had taken him some time to realise it. Longer still to accept it. But still every so often when he looked at her he saw not his wife and the soon to be mother of his child, but an elf. A blue haired elf. He tried to hide it, he told her that he loved her, but secretly a part of him doubted her. A part of him that still dwelt in that dark dungeon. Perhaps it would always live there.
For the moment though, it was time to put aside that doubt, as he entrusted her with his family’s most sacred duty.
“My lord?” Juna was at the doorway before he could even say anything, and Iros quickly gestured for him to take a seat at the table.
“I received a pigeon this morning. From the king.” He handed the tissue thin paper to Juna first, mainly because he was closer, and let him read it in peace while Sophelia looked on nervously. She obviously guessed it was bad. But not how bad.
“My lord!” Juna looked up at him in horror the moment he’d finished reading, and then handed the paper to Sophelia. Iros could almost see the cogs turning behind his eyes as he thought on the implications. On what this would mean for Greenlands. But he kept his silence as Sophelia read.
“No!” Sophelia too was shocked when she read the message, refusing to accept it. Her blue eyes were startlingly wide. He could understand that. She was with child in an unfamiliar land; naturally she wanted her husband with her at such a time. Any woman would. But for her the situation was worse. She wasn’t just a woman in a strange land. She was its lady.
“Yes. This is from the king. I cannot disobey. In a few days time I will have to ride out of Greenlands with the Black Otters and some priests, and join with the army being assembled. And you will both have to take care of Greenlands in my absence.”
“But you’re needed here.”
“No a Drake is needed here. And that is you Lady Sophelia Drake. You my beloved wife, are going to have to assume the mantle of the Lady of Greenlands.”
“What?” Sophelia stared at him, her big blue eyes widening even further in surprise. But sitting beside her Juna was anything but. He understood the realities of the situation. There were only two choices. Iros could either abdicate his position, and immediately hand the role over to Heriot, a man who didn’t want it, and. Or Sophelia could assume the role. It was a position that she wasn’t trained for, hadn’t expected, and worst of all, one that the people had not expected her to assume. Not yet anyway.
Neither she nor they were ready. And it didn’t matter. He reached across the table and took her hands in his.
“You are my wife. You are not just a woman with the title, you are the Lady Sophelia of Drake and the Lady of Greenlands. You are carrying the next lord or lady of Greenlands in your belly. When you made my bed yours, you assumed that title as a fact, and with it the responsibility. This was always going to happen. It’s just sooner than I had expected.” Much sooner, and long before he’d had a chance to introduce her properly to the people as their lady. He’d been thinking of leaving it until after the birth of their child. But that was when he thought they’d have time.
“You weren’t expecting it, I know. And the people weren’t expecting it either. Not yet. There will be resistance. But you will have to deal with it. And you can.”
“Your family are traders. You understand contracts better than anyone else. And this is no different.”
“The Drakes command this land and have done for centuries. But ours is not a rule fo
rmed from military strength, nor one based on gold or divine right. It is a contract between the Drake Family and the people. We rule because the people accept our right to do so. They do so because we rule fairly and wisely. That then will be your task. To rule wisely and fairly, and always with compassion. And to show the people that your rule is so. They must have faith in you.”
“Juna.” He turned to his steward and saw a man who looked as though he’d been hit in the head in the practice yards a few times too many. A man who was suddenly looking very old. “You have served my family and Greenlands faithfully for so very many years, and for too little reward. You are family by all but blood. And I would never wish to add to your burden. We have asked too much of you already. Still, I must ask more of you. I am sorry for that, but I am left without any choice. The Divines are playing dice and our fates are given us all.”
“Sophelia must become the Lady Sophelia of Drake in the people’s hearts and thoughts. You must help her in this. She will need your support and your guidance. And the people will need to be assured that she is the rightful lady of Greenlands. That her word is law, and that it is just. That she is their lady.”
“Yes my lord.” Juna nodded to him, and Iros knew he meant it. The man was ridden by duty and loyalty above all else. So he’d never doubted his answer. But he did worry about whether even he could do what needed to be done. With Juna’s help Sophelia could have grown into her role. She would have. He was hard at work on her entire family after all. It was only that it was so soon after a terrible war. And he worried whether the people would be able to accept the change.
It was one thing to accept that their lord had an elven wife, sometimes it was even amusing and a source of gossip for the bards to sing of. And she was seen as harmless and inoffensive by most. They were willing to forgive her her elven blood. But for their lord’s wife to become their lady, for an elf to sit in the chair, that was something else.
“Thank you. In the morning I will make the announcement. I will then leave the Great Hall and you two will have to hold the court yourselves. Make the decisions that are easy and hold the rest overnight so that you can discuss them fully. Whenever a decision is difficult and likely to upset people, give the reasons for deciding as you did so that all can see its rightfulness.” It wasn’t what Sophelia wanted to hear. But it was the best advice he had. The same advice his father had once given him, before he had failed him.
“And know this.” He stood up, crossed the single pace between them and then knelt before her, their hands still entwined. “I remember your words from the Royal Chamber even before the mist madness. I remember how well you spoke against your cousin’s madness. You have the gift of clarity. And when you speak from the heart people will listen.”
“You have my heart. You carry my child. And you also have my trust. I know that you can do this. And I know that you will carry out your duties fairly. The only thing left is for you to know it.”
Iros wondered if he had said the right thing. But regardless of whether he had or he hadn’t he knew that it was something he should have said long ago.
Chapter One Hundred and Five.
The sun had almost set when they crested the hill and saw the gathering army. With the light coming from such a low angle and glistening off the green of the grass Iros wondered if he was seeing things. But he wasn’t.
Ahead of them he could see the glint of steel and the lines of soldiers forming a living river travelling slowly south through the valleys. A river that stretched almost a league in length. He tried to guess how many soldiers and cavalry and cannon that would be, but simply couldn’t. There were too many to count.
Iros held up his hand to call a halt, and quickly the troop reined in around him. They could see the army with their own eyes.
“Captains could you raise your colours please.” It was strange for him to be commanding the three troops of rangers, not least because they were rangers and not dragoons, however they seemed to accept his commands. Or at least the three captains did. If he was going to meet defiance anywhere it would be from the elders in their wagons. They seemed to enjoy it.
This time at least the elders didn’t seem to have any issues with his orders as the rangers raised their standards. But he knew that later, when they had made camp for the night with the rest of the army, they would probably start making his life difficult again. Suggesting and demanding things that he simply couldn’t give them. At the moment there were only a dozen elders If he was truly to command the rangers as they went into battle, as well as up to thirty or forty thousand windriders, then there would be hundreds of elders to deal with as well, with none of them inclined to follow his command. Even with only a dozen elders from the groves in Greenlands, West Hold and Copper Hills, it was a constant negotiation to get them to do anything.
At least they had fast wagons. The dwarves had built them variants of their dreaded battle wagons just like Trekor’s. They didn’t have steel sides or cannon mounted front and rear, but they did have ball bearing races and huge springs that allowed them to fly over the ground as fast as the horses could gallop. It had to be a strange ride, the wagons bounced and swayed with every bump in the road, but compared to the squeaking and banging of a normal trader’s wagon they seemed like bliss. And they had high backed, padded leather seats and cushions, that added to the comfort. Even Trekor’s cats seemed to enjoy the ride as they slept their days away on the floor by her feet.
“We ride for the front?” Captain Harral asked the obvious question.
“Yes. We’ll ride for the front, but hopefully the patrols from Preston and Torrington will already be here. So if we spot them the rest of the riders can join them, and we four will ride to meet with Commander Tyrus Foria and introduce ourselves.”
It was a plan, but not much of one, and the elders might insist on coming to meet the commander anyway. But there was hope he thought.
And maybe too, with so many soldiers in front of them, there was hope that they would carry the battle, something that had seemed in desperately short supply after they had lost the bridge. And more than anything else Iros knew, an army travelled on hope.
Chapter One Hundred and Six.
“Master Peri, as I have already said. I rule in favour of Master Halders. Arguing about it will not change it, and neither will it help your cause.” Sophelia did her best to look the blacksmith directly in the eyes, but he was so tall and sitting down she was even shorter than usual. And it didn’t help that the baby was busy kicking her. She was sure it was a boy.
“Lord Iros -.”
“Iros would have said exactly the same thing. And I think I know him rather better than you.” It was a line she was using far too often, but it seemed to help, and Juna had said to keep using it. And to keep rubbing her stomach from time to time, just to remind them that she was Iros’ wife and the mother of his child to come.
“You know that we are preparing for an attack. That there may well be an army of abominations arriving on our doorstep any day now. You know also that it is the duty of the Lords and Ladies of Drake before all else, to protect Greenlands. No compromise can be made in this matter.” Again it was a line that she was using every day. Making sure that everyone heard her. As Iros had said the people had to know her reasoning. They had to know why she decided as she did.
“But he’s a troll!” And that was the heart of the matter. Many people couldn’t look at a troll’s tusked face without knowing a sense of fear and disgust. Many people regarded them as little more than dangerous beasts. It was humbling in a way to see the same intolerance in the humans as she had seen amongst her own people. It was embarrassing.
“And did you know Master Peri that among trolls humans are known as malleous, a term that means pig like? Or that sprites, elves and gnomes are referred to as tito, or puny?” Every people had their own swears for the others. And every trader knew them all.
“Yet Master Halders has spent his entire life in a village lying between Elari
s and Solaria. A village where there are almost no people of any pure blood. Instead there are mostly people who mix human with elf, sprite with dwarf, gnome with troll. And he has been a respected person in that village, crafting ploughs and agricultural tools.”
“And did you know that when the abominations attacked his village he stood tall and defended it with his hammer. He placed his life in danger to protect every single villager, no matter their race.”
“Now tell me Master Peri, when the time comes and Greenlands stands under attack, will you do the same? I already know Master Halders’ answer because he has proven it. I do not know yours. In fact all I know of you is that you will not even share your pit with him because he has troll blood in him. Despite the fact that he is a blacksmith. Despite the fact that with two of you working at the one pit you will be able to craft more armour and more weapons and thus help defend Greenlands better.” It was a telling point, and while the blacksmith didn’t understand it completely she knew that the rest of the audience did. But then she was speaking to them as much as she was speaking to him.
