"Card," grunted Erras, a lancer from Branad's army.
Ean – the youngest sylph on active service – acted as banker, but was not playing. He pushed another card across the table.
They played with just the numbered cards – two to eleven – but one of the pictured wild cards had been slipped into the two packs they were using. Whoever drew it immediately lost that round.
"Twenty-four partas," said Callen. He had been among the pikemen who were furthest forward this morning. The fresh slash across his face was already beginning to heal, but he would boast yet another scar when the scabbing had gone.
"Twenty-four," agreed Nazan, a dark-skinned outlander mercenary who fought for Marcus. He pushed a small pile of coppers nearer the middle of the table.
Callen twisted his mouth, but pushed another small pile of coins out to join the first.
Erras pushed out the same number of coins.
Neptarik glanced around again, before pushing twenty-four partas out to join the rest. The bets had been put on the table before the cards were dealt; now the pile of coins beckoned. He stared at it greedily and almost hummed again.
"Eighteen," Erras said, turning his cards over.
"Seventeen." Nazan looked disgusted.
"Seventeen." Callen sat back, hands behind his head. "I'm done."
Neptarik said nothing, but turned his cards over.
"Twenty-one!" Erras turned to Ean. "Are you fixing this?"
Ean's eyes betrayed outrage and his earpoints quivered in anger.
"All right, you're not fixing it." Erras held out his hands in mock surrender. He watched Neptarik scoop the coins gleefully. "Where did you learn to play cards like this?"
Balnus grinned. "He was a quick study."
Neptarik carefully placed twenty-four partas on the table; it was for him to start the betting as he had won the previous hand. Nazan and Erras followed the sylph's lead, but neither tried to up the bet. Neptarik nodded to the other sylph, who immediately dealt.
"Should be interesting tomorrow," remarked Erras. "Branad will ride out to meet the rest of our army. I wonder if they'll believe that they follow Marcus now. I can scarce believe it myself." He inspected his cards.
"It does not matter who you follow," said Nazan, "so long as the pay is the same."
Erras eyed the other human sideways, but it was not clear if his distaste was for the color of Nazan's skin, or because he was a mercenary.
"Card," said Nazan.
Neptarik eyed his cards. They were not as good this time. He could risk another, but that might take him over the magic twenty-three maximum.
Nazan tossed his cards onto the table. "I'm out," he said. He had the wild card, which busted him. The Emperor. Strangely, Branad's features were painted on it. Doubtless Ean's sense of humor: Branad was busted, too.
Erras stared at the sylph, his expression not exactly friendly. He pushed his twenty-four coins further to the center. "Twenty," he said, triumphantly.
Neptarik pushed all the coins across the table before turning his cards.
"Nineteen!" exclaimed Erras. "It seems as though your luck is turning, sylph."
Neptarik shrugged.
"We'll stake everything on this one." Erras grinned and pushed all his coins to the center of the table. "Playing, sylph?"
Neptarik pushed an equal number of coins forward.
"I said everything, sylph."
"He has met your bet," interrupted Balnus, protectively. "You cannot match him if he raises it now."
Erras shrugged. "Deal. Three cards."
Neptarik stared at his cards in disbelief. Thirteen? A measly thirteen? He nodded to Ean, who pushed another card across. One from every suit except the wands, not that it mattered for this game.
"Don't you sylphs ever speak?" demanded Erras. "I hate silence."
Neptarik turned silvery gray eyes to the human. What was there to say? His attention returned to the cards. This looked better. He only just prevented a hum.
Human and sylph turned their cards over together.
Erras cursed before he stood to leave the card school.
"Well done, lad." Balnus thumped his sylph on the back. "Well done."
Neptarik grinned and unwound the scarf from his head, restoring freedom to his earpoints. They twitched a few times in pleasure.
Yeomen came running through the camp. "General muster!" they shouted. "General muster!"
"No time off for any of us," grumbled Balnus.
Marcus and Branad gathered their armies to explain the new situation. That the rival claimants had reached agreement surprised both sets of men. The two armies would remain in their own units, with their own commanders, but overall command rested with Marcus, and Kelanus remained the senior field officer. Mutters rose from the gathered men when Branad announced that his claim was "in abeyance" until they reached Marka and that he would afterwards "submit to the will of the Supreme Council".
"That could mean anything," said Balnus.
Neptarik stared at Belaika. His friend stood a little behind his owner and looked anything but happy with the arrangements. It was soon obvious why. When Marcus and Branad had finished, Belaika heeled the defeated claimant back to his tent. Neptarik blinked in surprise. Whatever went on there was not to Belaika's liking.
***
"Alovak?"
Branad eased himself into a chair and nodded thanks.
Belaika had left the alovak to brew while the men were addressed. He poured it for the man who now commanded him in the evenings. The scout was furious that his owner had granted Branad's request for a sylph servant, especially as that servant was him.
Branad's tent only had two rooms: a living space with two easy chairs, a table and the wood burner, and a sleeping area screened off by tapestries. There was no special area for Belaika, so the sylph had piled his blankets close to the burner, where it would be warmest.
Branad detected the sylph's mood. After taking a sip of the strong liquid, he spoke. "You are wondering why I asked your owner for you to serve me?"
The sylph stared balefully back.
"I've never owned sylphs," continued Branad, when no verbal reply came. "I'm curious to learn more about you. No doubt you'll report back to your master now and then, so I hope you can lay his fears to rest. I'll not turn on him, even if the Supreme Council backs my claim. Of course, they may back Marcus's claim, but I'll worry about that then."
The sylph sniffed and glanced away.
Branad chuckled. "You were more talkative in Marcus's tent. What's wrong? Tongue fallen out?"
"May I go eat?" asked Belaika. "It is time." It had been a long day.
"Remember to come straight back and bring my meal with you."
In the large mess tent where the sylphs ate, Belaika found Jenn sitting alone at one of the tables. The infertile glanced up at the larger scout and gave him a small smile. For a moment, he thought she might banter with him, but she seemed content to eat in silence. Perhaps she sensed he was in no mood for talking. She mopped up the last of her vegetable broth with a hunk of bread, inclined her head to him and left, heading for the officers' tent, presumably to collect Marcus's meal.
Recalling that Branad also waited to eat, Belaika pitched his food in, stuffing two pieces of unleavened bread into the waistband of his breeches before hurrying outside again. He collected Branad's meal and toiled back with it, the can swinging easily in his grasp.
Once the meal was laid out, Branad indicated that the sylph should take the seat opposite him. "Your master may be interested to hear what I have to say," he remarked. "Sit and listen."
Belaika realized that he would have little chance to reply once the man began speaking. Not that he would have replied to most of it. A sylph only spoke when necessary, except to owner or family, and Belaika was no exception.
"When I meet with Ranallic tomorrow," continued Branad, "he'll follow my orders. An ambitious man, but he does obey a command once given. I'm most amenable to Marcus's sug
gestion that we all travel to Marka together; much easier than fighting each other all the way, what? Ranallic will agree. Who's Ranallic? Make sure you mention him to Kelanus, they're old friends. What I don't know, of course, is what Marcus plans once he has us all in Marka."
Belaika blinked.
"No, I suppose he doesn't take a sylph into his confidence. No matter. I'm sure we'll continue to Marka, but it is there that the problems begin. Never been there myself, but I prefer the battlefield to the intrigues of Markan politics."
The sylph remained silent.
Branad lowered his voice. "Your master is politically astute." He turned his head to one side as he finished his meal. "What's that noise?"
Belaika, who slipped from his seat to collect the dirty dish and cutlery, grimaced. Was this man tone deaf? Outside, sylph scouts' voices rose and fell in a harmonious choir. "My brothers," he said, finally breaking his silence. "They sing to the dead, to speed them to the afterlife."
"Yes, that racket would speed me along too."
Belaika hid a snarl, turned on his heel and stalked out of the tent.
Branad chuckled to himself and picked up a book. He watched Belaika return, brew alovak and serve a cup of it. Done, he left the can with the human and wrapped himself in his blankets in sulky silence. The sylph settled down beside the burner and curled up. His eyes closed and his earpoints tucked themselves away. Fascinated, Branad watched him before putting the book aside. He covered most of the light crystals before following the sylph's example.
Tomorrow, he thought, I bring in the rest of the army. Then, we march to Marka. Together.
***
Chapter 2
Jewel Of The World
"This is madness!"
Kelanus shook his head and stared at Marcus. "You capture him yesterday," he continued, "and release him today. You send him to his army! What do you think will happen with an army at his back again?"
"I must show Branad I trust his word," insisted Marcus. "If we ride out to this army, they'll attack us before we have chance to explain ourselves. Particularly with your friend Ranallic in charge."
Kelanus almost shook his head again, but stopped himself just in time. He must remember whom he shouted at. The four soldiers who had ridden with them looked apprehensive; to them, the claimant was already Emperor.
Belaika ignored the argument and strained his ears for the whistle that would come once the scouts knew that army's intentions.
The small group remained close enough to their own army to reach safety should Branad decide to take his chances. Belaika stood a little distance from the humans, but not far enough away to be out of earshot. More than was proper reached his ears and he half wished he'd been given other duties today.
He licked his lips and wished there had been a little more of breakfast. Somebody had appropriated the milk Branad's army carried, adding that and sugar to the rolled oats sylphs ate to break the night fast. Though usually mixed with water, sylphs enjoyed sugared, milky porridge almost as much as choca.
He glanced around at the sparse scrubland. There were plenty of hiding places, but where they had halted was out of bowshot from the trees. They were safe here.
Marcus continued. "I don't believe Branad is prepared to abandon his men to my not-so-tender mercies if he does desert. I made it quite clear what would happen if he betrays me."
Kelanus grinned. "He knows you would do no such thing."
Marcus sniffed. "Tell me more about Ranallic."
"A southerner but, unlike most southerners, he's dishonorable and untrustworthy. You already know what he did to me." Venom laced Kelanus's voice.
Belaika did not know and his earpoints twitched. The high-pitched whistle snapped his attention away from the commanders momentarily. "They come, enya," he cautioned. "Under the black flag of peace."
"Thank you, Belaika." Marcus glanced triumphantly at his General. He looked at his bannerman. "Ready, Adrewa?"
"I am that, sir," replied the Imperial Bannerman. Adrewa hefted the Vintner Standard aloft and led the six men forward.
Belaika melted away to join the scouts, almost thirty in number, who had shadowed this army for days.
The humans halted on a rise and waited for the army to join them. Marcus stood in his stirrups and nodded to himself when he spied Branad at the head of three thousand men. Everything began to run in his favor. At last.
"I told you we could trust Branad."
Kelanus grunted. "But can we trust those he rides with?"
Marcus ignored his companion's skepticism and instead watched the advancing army. Three thousand men and perhaps thirty war machines, gained at no cost in gold or blood. What an impression he would give those waiting for him in Marka! He smiled. Life had not felt this good for years.
***
Kelanus rode behind the other commanders and listened to their conversation. He stayed apart, preferring to watch what others were doing.
Ranallic showed a keen interest in the sylph scouts and Kelanus watched him closest of all.
"Amazing." Ranallic stared at the rolling countryside and shook his head. "I see no sign of them. They can't have reached the forest yet."
Marcus smiled. "You see why they are scouts? Second to none; better than humans. Never had a bad report from them."
"You've used them in frontline service for ten years?" pressed Ranallic.
"It takes five years to train a successful sylph to the required standard. We start them at age five, let them run with the army from the age of ten and they can retire after twenty years' service."
Ranallic looked impressed. "Do they belong to the army, to you or individuals?"
"Individuals," replied Marcus. "Belaika is mine, but most belong to my officers and a few to my men. I do my best to keep owned and owner together, but that's not always possible."
"Probably not always desirable," added Branad.
The graves of those killed in the battle now lay two days behind them. Ranallic's men had been granted a day to get used to their new status and loyalties, while the camp was struck and preparations made to move on. The army and its attendants now stretched for three milas along the paved road, the war machines following immediately behind. A fine sight in the spring sunshine.
Detachments of men rode on either side of the column, watching for trouble. Branad's scouts were out, several in plain sight, but sylph scouts ranged all around the combined army, ready to report if required. The only sylphs in sight were supposed to be seen.
"They disappear from view quickly," remarked Branad. "Impressive. Why are those walking beside the column?"
"They listen for reports," replied Marcus. "Walking in the column they might not hear, so we have them a little way out."
"And you use others as nurses." Branad twisted around in his saddle to look where the nurses walked with the rest of the army.
"Sylphs have many uses." Marcus tried hard not to laugh at Branad.
Kelanus rode in silence and stared at Ranallic's back. He sneered if the southern General looked over his shoulder. If the claimants noticed the bad blood, they passed no comment.
He glanced at the large group of southern mercenaries in Branad's army. These men, who kept themselves to themselves, also avoided Ranallic. Kelanus determined to discover the reason why. He had met southern mercenaries before, and respected their fighting qualities, but these men were new. The only southerner in Branad's army when Kelanus commanded it had been Ranallic.
"What would your sylph scouts do if attacked?" Ranallic asked Marcus.
"If anyone ever saw one to attack him, there is little the average sylph can do," came the reply, after a moment's pause. "They have ebatela, which is a sort of self-defense, but the problem has never arisen."
Ranallic's dark eyes glittered. "It's only a matter of time before someone thinks of a counter to them."
"A problem for the future," smiled Marcus. "Until then, I shall concern myself with winning my just title."
Branad
and Ranallic exchanged a look that Marcus affected not to notice. Behind, Kelanus fought the urge to launch himself at Ranallic, still hating the straight-backed General just ahead of him. Trouble lay ahead from Branad and Ranallic. He hoped so; he had a score to settle. He prayed an opportunity would present itself soon.
***
Lance Captain Kestan Entor commanded the leading left flank and ranged well ahead of the main army. He held up a hand as a sylph suddenly appeared before him. One day, he thought, a scout will get killed rising out of the ground like that. To judge from his wildly twitching earpoints, the sylph bore a report. At his signal, the small column of lancers came to a halt. Kestan nodded his head in recognition of the scout.
"What do you have for me, Belaika?"
This scout was well known to most of the men and renowned for excellent work, though the sylph would be the first to deny it. Kestan wanted a sylph scout of his own and, now that his drinking days were over, hoarded as much of his salary as possible. There were several promising younglings in training yet to find an owner and he almost had enough money saved.
"Donenya," began Belaika, "there is a column of wagons, with armed men, about three stridas afar. An illegal slaver, we think."
Kestan paused. So tempting to let the caravan pass, but Marcus Vintner's orders were explicit: anything this close to the army must be investigated and the law enforced. Which included arresting illegal slavers and confiscating their property. If the sylphs suspected this caravan of being an illegal slaver... Well, the scouts were rarely wrong.
He glanced at Belaika. He was not known for carrying tales to his owner, but probably best not to take the risk. About to send his lieutenant, Kestan changed his mind at the last moment. "Lance Lieutenant Dekran. Stay here with the seconds. Firsts with me. Belaika, whistle the message on and follow."
Kestan was glad he had decided to investigate when the sylph answered. "It is already passed on, donenya."
The Captain said nothing to this, but wheeled his horse, followed by half his column. Thirty men should be enough to sort out one scraggly flesh trader. Banner Sergeant Yochan carried the Vintner Standard forward with the firsts. Belaika led the way to the furthest scout and remained in sight for the humans' benefit. The sylph pointed.
Markan Throne Page 3
