lastkingsamazon

by Chris Northern

  “Even if there were no consideration other than an overwhelming enemy approaching the city there might be arguments about who lead the armies, and there would be armies, dozens if the

  city looked like it might be threatened.”

  “No offense but I think you people are crazy.”

  I laughed again. “Yet here we are, the greatest nation on earth.”

  “Not the largest.”

  I shrugged. “The city is only three miles square.”

  Now it was he who looked at me with a profoundly shocked expression on his face.

  I chose to ignore it. There was no explaining some things to foreigners.

  #

  As I predicted, Latandin Keshil Herrap had ordered the King to give no aid apart from purchased material comfort. Not a man, not a bag, not a barrel.

  “If you are overwhelmed and lost we will still be here to protect our own against the enemy, and reap the reward when we have won.” Tul mimicked another man, I assume the King.

  We were in the private quarters of his pavilion. For reasons best known to himself he had requested that I join him for a meal, and it turned out he had meant alone. Just the two of us. Cozy. I had become instantly suspicious. Two chairs at an angle, two small tables, a brazier as a focal point.

  “Those were his words?”

  “The King? No no, he made it very clear with great groveling apologies and assurances that if he alone were to choose he would aid us with every man, every ear of corn, every wagon, his loyalty to the city and its assembly of patrons unwavering.”

  “If he alone were to choose?”

  Tul snorted in derision. “Like he has a choice. His throne belongs to Latandin and he sits his bum on the throne as long as Latandin says he can and not a second longer.”

  “Assembly of patrons.” I sighed. “At the moment the assembly probably hasn't even discussed the matter except in passing.”

  “They'll never understand us, cousin. No point in trying to teach pigs to sing.”

  “Annoys the pig,” I agreed.

  “Are you in control of things?”

  If I hadn't been expecting it I would have spat my wine on the floor. It was well watered and might not have left a stain on his expensive rug. “Yes.”

  “Sheo? A murder in your area of the camp? Another in the baggage train close by to your wagons?”

  “Sheo is on schedule. And grudges get settled in camp sometimes. These aren't the first, are they?”

  “You don't know?”

  “I don't spend time in camp gossip, Tul.”

  “Hmmm.” He frowned into his own goblet of wine, golden goblet no less! “One other killing since we marched.”

  “It happens.” I put some food in my mouth and chewed it. Tul kept a simple table as befit an army on the move. There were commanders who had luxuries sent after them from the city on a daily basis. Extravagant and not good for the morale of the men.

  “Three killings and no idea who killed them is a bit excessive, Sum. I want to know who is responsible, be it one or three men. Find out.”

  “Me? Why me? And how?”

  “Why not you?”

  I had no real answer to that and felt a little paranoid, so best not to protest too much. I shrugged and said, “I'll put as much time into it as I can.”

  “Good! That's settled then. How are you finding command.”

  I didn't have to think about it. “It is what we are bred and trained for.”

  “True.” He raised his wine in salute and we drank. “But the details, any problems?”

  “Not really. Had to discipline a man the other day and I would rather not command mercenaries; their loyalty and motivation are suspect. Sorry, that could be taken as a criticism.”

  He had nodded at what I had been saying. “It could. I decided we needed missile troops and we don't raise them. There are auxiliaries from the client kingdoms but I have no client kingdoms so I had to hire them. You're right. Don't trust them. Use them.”

  “You are not giving me much in direction.” That had been the first piece of advice given unless I misremembered.

  He shrugged. “I'm assessing everyone. When we hit the border I will camp for a couple of days while I wait for reports and we will talk strategy and tactics. You are up on battlefield signals? Drums, flags and so forth?”

  “I've studied them, but it's not instinctive.”

  “It's one of the things I'll cover later.”

  I nodded, accepting the reassurance. We fell silent and just ate for a few moments, me picking at the new plate a slave had placed on my table. “Is there any news from the Ensibi?”

  He frowned, suddenly thoughtful. “Conflicting. We have lost a couple of people we were getting reports from, at least I assume they are lost to us and not just on the run south. But it's pretty clear the Ensibi aren't holding their own.”

  “And the other tribes?” I promoted him when he fell silent.

  “There was a battle in Orduli territory. Border fort commander, lesser noble, took his troops in and lost them. There will be no career advancement for him. Orthand will prosecute.”

  “What about Hadrin Ichal Merindis? The Geduri are his clients, aren't they?”

  “No word. Not expecting anything yet. He'll only get involved if the whole thing blows up, but I guess he's making preparations to protect his own interests.”

  “And the Prashuli?”

  He shrugged. “Not sure. It looks like they are raiding but nothing much out of the ordinary. No news that other citizens have been killed but there has been an exodus of the few hundred who were there anyway. Same from Orduli territory. Merchants and their families getting out, trading posts abandoned, that sort of thing.”

  I nodded, pretty normal. Peacetime trade with a people outside our control was all very well; private agreements between merchants and local chiefs held up well enough, usually. Maybe a few acres under the plow, a mine rented, a trading post, whatever. When the natives got restless a threat or two from our people on the spot would usually do the trick. It's not the first time we have passed through the north and made a mess before leaving. You'd think they would learn to behave themselves but another generation, another crop of hotheads and idiots.

  He was still frowning, thoughtful, and I left him to it. He had something else on his mind and prompting him wouldn't make him share it. “What?” I ran out of patience.

  He shook his head. “Nothing.”

  Told you so.

  #

  The next day was much like any other until the letters arrived. Two from the south with the same courier and one from the north. It was going to take me a while before I decided how I felt about the first two, the third sent me into an incandescent rage.

  That morning the thin mage, Ferrian, had been waiting for me to return from the morning briefing (Orchids). He had been formal and dignified, but even he could not quite hide his irritation at being in a position where he had to make a report about the doings of his fellows. If the battle mages and healers had complained to Tul he had not mentioned it. They were under my command. Though initially it had been meant as a sinecure it was still a fact, and they had begun to learn it. As long as they did their job I wasn't interested in how they felt, though for personal reasons I would rather be on good terms with them. If they didn't invite me to eat I would eat elsewhere, tonight I had asked to join Rastrian, phrasing it carefully so that he knew I would accept no refusal but also so that it didn't sound like an order.

  “Yes?”

  Ferrian's features had pinched up a bit. “My superiors have required me to report on our activities regarding security.”

  “Sir.”

  His eyes nearly popped out of his head as he colored up.

  “The correct form of address when making a report to your commanding officer is, Sir.” I explained it patiently and slowly so that he could understand.

  He struggled with it for a bit. The colleges were powerful. Personally, the individuals were danger
ous in a way that transcended politics, but in this circumstance I was making a point. Later, I might relax a bit toward the friendly cooperation that was more normal. There was a whole chapter on dealing with mages in almost every volume of warfare, and I was ignoring all of it. The arrogance of my class, I suppose.

  “Yes, sir,” he relented but his voice was not much above a furious whisper.

  “Your report?”

  “My superiors asked me to create this for your use around the area, sir.” He held up a wooden stake split with precision into four and bound together by a ribbon.

  I took it and looked it over. One stake split into four. “And this will...?”

  He sighed in exasperation, back on top due to my ignorance. “You stick them into the ground in a rough square and when anyone passes he will receive a debilitating shock and there is an alarm.”

  “What kind of alarm.”

  “The sound made when a block of wood is split. Twice.”

  “How loud?”

  He shrugged. “I don't know.”

  I just stared at him for a long, long moment until he realized what I was thinking and became embarrassed. No one likes their work to be treated with contempt.

  “Perhaps we should test it, sir.”

  “Thought hadn't occurred to me. Do it.” I tossed the stake back to him and he left.

  I checked on my people and saw everything going smoothly. As I was doing this I heard two loud cracks, just like the sound of an ax hitting a tree but in quick succession. So. Loud enough then.

  I mounted up and moved away. I didn't want to take charge of the stake device. I wanted him to do it if I decided to use them. I mean, people come and go in our area in the morning (me!) and at other times. I didn't want the damn thing going off all the time, so I had to give the matter a bit of thought.

  “Your command, Kerral. I'll meet you on the road!”

  “Yes, sir!” He snapped back and carried on about his business.

  There were no gates for the temporary forts. We took craftsman in various fields with us on campaign. Some soldiers had come from the crafts and were used as labor in those areas where they knew what they were doing. Gates would be made for a more permanent fort, but for now we used a wagon at each of the four gaps where there would normally be gates. I headed for the southern gap as the east and north gates were in use.

  I was just in time to meet the messenger, a fellow who had obviously passed back and forth between the city and the army more than once as he recognized me and called my name. His horse was lathered in sweat even though he must have changed it as little as eight miles back. He had two letters for me and didn't see why I should wait for them to pass through the command tent. I accepted the letters and then reprimanded him for doing it.

  “All communications through the command tent.”

  “Yes sir!” He saluted smartly and held out his hands for the letters.

  “From now on,” I said darkly.

  “Yes sir.”

  I sat my mount in the open gateway and cracked the seal on the first, larger letter and scanned the contents. It was from Orelia.

  My dearest Sumto,

  How glad I was to see you again. It grieves me that my family chose against you. I always felt we would be a perfect match but I cannot go against the will of my family.

  It frightens me that you are going into danger. Tahal Samant is the choice of my family, and seems a good man. For his sake I hope you are successful in your mission. For mine, I hope you return to us safely, to a hero's welcome. I believe none of my family would frown upon my giving you a chaste kiss on your return. I pray you will accept all I would wish to give you in that single kiss.

  I fear for you both and pray you both return whole and well.

  My fondest regards

  Orelia Isaula Habrach

  I tucked this one in my saddle bag with the mental equivalent of shrug. The second was from Jocasta. The message tube also contained a minute cloth bag. I shrugged and read the letter.

  Sumto,

  My sister is sending a letter and I think if I hurry I can catch the messenger without being seen. For some reason she is jealous and might intercept it.

  I have been listening to the news from the north and collecting gossip. I do not know what your situation is there but can guess that you are not being told everything by your commanders. Jealousy does not only exist between sisters.

  From what I can piece together I am certain that the Orduli and Prashuli tribes are joining with the Alendi in a mass uprising. The smaller tribes in the foothills beyond may also be involved but to what extent I cannot say. There are rumors of a rogue mage among the tribes, this I can only infer from some of the rumors I have heard from letters received by friends from the north. The tribes obey him from fear. There is talk of severed heads screaming all day and night, a chieftain who resisted his instruction to rise against us now walks the streets of his settlement as a dead man. The witnesses to this were quite graphic and there can be no doubt that she and her husband saw this thing.

  I am afraid that the whole north is going to rise against you. You are in more peril than you know, as are all our men. Please be careful and take such action as you can to safeguard yourself and your army. I will do what I can from here to rouse public opinion to act. Accept these gifts to aid you in the spirit they are intended.

  Jocasta

  I read the letter again. Dead men walking? Screaming severed heads? A rogue sorcerer? Gifts?

  I looked at the bag, tucked the message away to read again later and opened the small black velvet bag. Inside was a two carat stone of brilliant vermilion. I closed my fist on it. Felt its warmth. Focused my thoughts on it and felt an awareness of its existence nudge itself into my mind alongside my own. It was a gift of great value. If only I had the knowledge to use it.

  I stuck a finger tip into the tiny bag. There was nothing else. Peering into the message tube I could see a small glint in the bottom of the tube. So, there was a second gift. Opening the other end I eventually managed to prise it out. It was a small tube of varnished wood with two glass lenses, the larger edge ridged slightly and rounded. I recognized it at once. It was a sorcerer's loupe.

  “How in gods' name did you get that?”

  I never invoke the gods. And I mean never. Only when seriously, genuinely shocked.

  All sorcerers of a college had a loupe, and students at the college were permitted to use one in order to learn spells. With it you could see magic, pure and simple. The longer you looked the more you saw. The college specialists made them, and damn few knew how. Owned by the college, used by sorcerers and loaned to students. This one must have been stolen. I had never ever heard of a loupe being found outside college premises. I would bet everything I would ever own that none of the mages or healers here had one on him.

  This was not merely a generous gift. A sorcerer's loupe was priceless.

  #

  The march was proceeding well, I thought. The men were standing up to the forced pace, we were still in friendly territory and we were making good time. My command was under control and I thought all was right with the world. Then the letter from Sheo arrived. I saw the messenger coming down the line, and though I didn't know he was looking for me, I certainly hoped he was. I had been concerned about Sheo's lack of regular reports, so I was glad to receive the letter and read it at once.

  Sumto,

  I am taking the cohort north east to the border with the Orduli.

  “What?”

  “What?” Kerral echoed me, surprised.

  “Nothing!” I went back to the letter.

  I have received word of the sacking of a border town of Pulindus by a large force of barbarians. The lands between there and here are pretty well populated but there are no forces to stand in their way. Don't be angry with me, please. I am not trying to steal your thunder or use your men for my own self-aggrandizement. I simply feel that this needs to be done and there is no one else to do it. I'm sure yo
u will use my intelligence well.

  In haste.

  Sheo Tetris Fuliat

  “Bastard!”

  “What?”

  “You have the command, Kerral!”

  I didn't wait for his answer but pulled out of the line and galloped my surprised mare to the head of the cohort, calling a warning of my reckless pace as I did so. Pulling up I saluted Tul with the letter clenched in my fist.

  “You'd better read this, sir.” My fury sounded clear even in my own ears and I struggled to get a hold of myself.

  “Yes,” he said, mildly. “I suppose I better had.”

  I gave him the letter and waited while he read it, keeping pace all the while, my mare skittish and anxious under me.

  After reading it twice he made to pass it back, then changed his mind. “No. I'll go.” He steered his horse out of the line and galloped off.

  I watched him go. A little let down by his mild response. But he was acting. I just had no clue what he intended and there was nothing seemly I could do but wait. After a while I realized I had no further reason to be there and steered my mount off the road, walking her back down the line.

  “Bastard!” I whispered fiercely to myself every now and again.

  He had taken my command into danger without so much as a by-your-leave. It was a clear breach of discipline for a start. And he knew damn well I wouldn't... I held that thought. I might order him to act, but I wouldn't like it. In fact, I would have had to do as I did with the letter containing the fact of his actions even if it had only contained the request. And the request might be refused by Tul or Orthand. Needs doing, I thought, large force, no one else between them and us. Bastard. He might be right. How large a force? How the hell did he know where they would be when he arrived on the scene? How did he hope to stand against them if he found them? He was throwing my men away for nothing. He should have marched when he heard, but not north and east. He should have marched south, to us, to join our force with his new information.