The crews could fill their skins from a nearby stream, but food was getting scarce and when the sun rose everyone seemed keen to move on. Minor repairs were held off until later, and one by one the crews dragged the ships into the shallows.
The winds continued to be favourable, carrying them on the last leg of their journey to Magnia. It wasn’t long before Farred began to recognise landmarks he knew, though they looked different from the new perspective afforded by Red Serpent.
It was still morning when they approached Fripport, located in a sheltered bay near the border with North Magnia. It was the largest harbour in the country and the only place capable of holding such a large fleet. Farred could see Magnian ships moored in one corner—what amounted to Edgar’s fleet, but it was insignificant compared to the wave of Caladri warships that were about to join them.
Red Serpent was the first to dock on the wooden piers. Farred almost felt like he would miss her when he found himself walking down the plank and returning to Magnia for the first time in two weeks.
The local officials were already at the dock, waiting to deal with the logistics of mooring the Caladri fleet and accommodating the sailors. Farred spied Aescmar, the leading magnate of the area, directing his men as more and more Caladri ships approached his port.
‘You’ve brought the Caladri with you,’ Aescmar said, as Farred approached. ‘Edgar will be pleased. I’ve already sent a rider to tell him the news.’
‘You’re well organised here,’ said Farred, impressed.
‘We did get some warning of your approach. Which is just as well, because if we don’t see a fleet of this size coming, the whole of South Magnia will be in trouble. Is it right that they have trading ships with them as well?’
‘Yes, stocked up with goods from the Sea Caladri and from the Lippers. You would do well to open negotiations with them. I will tell the captain of the ship I travelled on if you like.’
‘I am much obliged. Trade has totally dried up since the Kharovians took the Lantinen, and there are many here whose livelihoods have suffered. This could be a boon to them.’
Aescmar was good enough to put Farred and Sebo up in the house he owned in Fripport. The rest of the Caladri were allocated to various patches of land inside and outside the port. Soon a forest of Caladri tents had sprouted up, doubling the population of the town. They were polite guests, however, and there was no trouble. They paid for their food and the traders amongst them wasted no time in bringing their goods to shore, so that an impromptu market appeared. Caladri and Magnians bartered with each other good-naturedly, and in the end there were few locals who failed to turn some profit from the arrival of the fleet.
By the evening of the next day Edgar arrived, and Aescmar was able to accommodate him and his three companions at his house. With him came Elfled, sister of Cerdda of North Magnia. Farred had first gained her acquaintance last year, when he had visited the North Magnians on Edgar’s behalf.
In addition, Edgar now had two bodyguards. Brictwin had come, and Farred was pleased that Edgar had followed his recommendation and appointed Morlin as a second bodyguard. The man had served with distinction under Farred in the Empire last summer, and had the ideal temperament for the job. Edgar had been reluctant to replace Leofwin, Brictwin’s uncle, who had died while preventing an assassination attempt on the prince. But Morlin was intelligent and easy-going enough to fit in.
They ate a late supper in Aescmar’s dining room. Edgar was keen to hear about Farred’s adventures since they had left Coldeberg, which he duly recounted, with Captain Sebo adding in details of a nautical nature that he felt Farred had overlooked.
‘I must know for sure, though,’ said Farred, ‘about your own news since leaving Coldeberg. Elfled’s presence by your side is a good sign,’ he added.
Edgar grinned, and Elfled smiled too, touching the prince’s hand.
‘I visited with Elfled’s family in North Magnia after leaving Coldeberg,’ said Edgar. ‘Then Elfled and I visited with my mother. Having received our family’s approval, Elfled and I can announce our engagement.’
He took Elfled’s hand and held it up so that they could see her engagement ring. A deep red garnet was set in rose gold, on a finely worked silver band.
‘Congratulations,’ said Farred, his words echoed by the others at the table. ‘And did you ask Elfled amidst all that approval?’ he asked.
‘Don’t worry about that, Farred,’ Elfled said. ‘I’ve already made it quite clear that this is going to be a partnership.’
Edgar rolled his eyes, and Elfled gave him a slap. Aescmar asked them about their wedding plans and Farred watched the two of them talking. It was good to see Edgar so happy. His expedition to the Empire had left him looking exhausted, but Elfled was obviously good for him.
‘How have you celebrated your engagement?’ Sebo asked the couple.
They looked at each other. ‘Coming here, I guess,’ replied Edgar. ‘We haven’t had the time for anything else yet.’
Sebo frowned. ‘Not good enough. It would be an honour for my crew and I to take you out on a pleasure ride on my ship, Red Serpent. I promise to make it special enough to suit such a happy occasion.’
Edgar and Elfled looked at one another.
‘It would be something we would always remember,’ she suggested carefully.
‘Why not?’ agreed Edgar. ‘Can we find the time tomorrow?’
‘Tomorrow?’ Sebo said. ‘Why not now? You two are young enough to stay up a while longer surely?’
‘In the dark?’ questioned Farred, peering outside.
‘There is nothing so special as a moonlight boat ride,’ said Sebo, turning to Edgar and Elfled. ‘Just don’t bring him along. He will just spend his time throwing up Aescmar’s delicious food.’
They smiled, agreeing to the idea, and Sebo set off to round up those of his crew who were in a fit enough state to man the ship. The rest of them spoke for a while longer, before leaving Aescmar’s house to head down to the harbour.
Aescmar walked ahead with Elfled, while Farred fell in with Edgar. The two bodyguards walked on either side. Farred realised that they now had two people to protect. That fact must have convinced Edgar to take the step of recruiting Morlin.
‘This is another great service you have done for me, Farred.’
‘You are welcome, Your Highness.’
‘I must find a way to properly repay you. I have been thinking about it a little. It is perhaps time you settled down too. Neither of us are getting any younger, after all.’
Farred nodded, trying to be noncommittal. Edgar was straying into awkward territory.
‘The easiest way for me to reward you would be to find you a wife who comes with a nice estate. I would like to see you become a bigger landowner here in Magnia. It would help me as well as rewarding you. What do you say?’
What should he say? Edgar, I like men? Maybe Edgar wouldn’t care if he did. Edgar, I fell in love with your fiancée’s brother and now my heart is broken?
‘It’s something I should think about,’ he found himself saying.
‘Yes, we’ll talk more. Oh my.’
They all stopped walking to look.
Sebo had Red Serpent ready. He had placed candles all over the deck and it looked beautiful—ethereal—in the moonlight. Farred wasn’t sure that candles and wooden ships were a good combination, but no doubt he was the only one worried about that.
The captain held out a hand to help Elfled up the plank, and Edgar and his bodyguards followed. Farred and Aescmar stood at the shore while Red Serpent slowly, majestically, manoeuvred into the dark expanse of the ocean. As she left the harbour it felt like Farred was watching a heavenly vessel leaving this world and sailing to paradise.
‘That is some sight,’ murmured Aescmar, seemingly to himself as much as to Farred.
It was, and it prompted in Farred a realisation of sorts. In Magnia his future, as Edgar had laid out, was as landholder, nobleman, husband. But too much of that
was a lie.
At that moment Red Serpent, a vessel of light bobbing up and down on a black sea, represented an escape from that future. It was an escape that Farred hadn’t even realised he wanted until now.
The Grass Sea
IX
CLARIN LOOKED UP AND DOWN the line of knights, queueing up for their turn. They lounged about, bandying insults back and forth as all soldiers do before a battle. But as they neared the end of the line they quietened, grew serious. When it was their turn, they approached Belwynn solemnly, drawing their blades and kneeling in front of her. She put her hands on theirs, said a few words, and they left, a look of serenity on their faces.
Clarin had never seen anything like it. He couldn’t tear himself away from the spectacle, all the more curious because it was Belwynn who was carrying out the blessing. Belwynn, a regular girl from Magnia a year ago, now the Lady of the Knights.
‘Come on,’ said Diodorus, interrupting his thoughts. ‘You can get your sword blessed later.’
Clarin followed the count into Sebastian’s tent. They had been invited to attend the discussion of tactics before the battle. Theron stood at a table with quill and parchment, as officious as ever. Sebastian and Tycho were also there, along with a knight he had not met yet. Sebastian noticed.
‘Clarin, this is Remi, my closest friend. He has been tracking Straton’s forces for us.’
Clarin and Remi shook hands. Remi gestured to the parchment, where Theron had drawn a diagram of what they believed to be the enemy disposition.
‘Euthymius has largely failed to turn the Knights against us. He leads a small number, probably less than one hundred. The rest of the cavalry are noblemen Straton has recruited. I would expect Count Ampelios to lead this group into battle.’
The knights under Euthymius and the mounted noblemen under Ampelios were positioned on the flanks. Clarin understood that these would be the better fighters, using the power and mobility of their horses to dominate the battlefield.
‘The infantry are largely made up men-at-arms raised by the nobility, or members of the temples who have allied with Straton. They have greater numbers than us, but not greater quality.’
Here, Theron had predicted three divisions of infantry positioned in the centre. Behind them Theron had scrawled more words, which Clarin assumed would be the reserve, where Straton himself would command.
‘Our problem, then, is matching their infantry,’ explained Sebastian. ‘I propose we dismount some of our knights, fifty say, and position them in the centre division to strengthen it. Anyone else who can fight will go there, giving the impression of further strength. That includes squires. The knights will have to do without them.’
‘Sending squires in to fight?’ Clarin said. ‘They’re little more than children.’
‘I’m not happy with it,’ said Sebastian. ‘But we’re desperate. They’ll be at the back. Clarin, your unit will be to the left, and Diodorus you will command the right. Watch out for them trying to get around you. I’ll let you decide how to organise things, you know what you’re doing. I will put myself in the centre with the dismounted knights. I think my presence will reassure them.’
Theron frowned. ‘I understand the thinking, uncle, but I’m not sure it should be you.’
There followed a debate between the knights about who should be placed where. There were four of them and four positions to allocate: two on the wings with the cavalry; one with the reserves; one with the infantry. Theron wrote in and scratched out names until they were settled. Sebastian was persuaded to take the reserves. Tycho would fight with the infantry, leaving Theron and Remi to lead each wedge of knights.
Clarin had no problems with the plan. The truth was you could talk for hours before a fight—when it came to it, it was chaos and desperate hacking every time.
Clarin put himself in the centre of the front line. To his left, Tamir led the Barbarians. He was still a tall and formidable figure, though he now fought left handed after losing three fingers in the fighting in Samir Durg. To his right were the two Dog-men, then Zared and the Persaleians. Theron had given them whatever armour and weapons they had requested. Clarin already knew they could fight like monsters, so he had no worries about his front line.
He had told Rudy and Jurgen to lead the Madrians, who stood in four rows behind him. They would have to react once the battle started, supporting Clarin’s front line or moving out to prevent any attempts at flanking their position. Clarin could not predict for sure how these men and women would react. For most, it was their first time in combat. They had behaved with discipline to this point, borrowing Elana’s icily cool demeanour. But hand-to-hand fighting was something different altogether. He knew that some of them would be able to do it, and some would not.
He could see the enemy infantry ahead. They too had settled into their units and were waiting for the order to go.
The terrain was uneven, with grass and flowering gorse covering the area between the two armies, some of it waist height. He had told his men to tread carefully. There was a slope too, the high point on the right of their position, where Theron’s cavalry was located. The dip had more or less flattened out by the time it reached Clarin’s position on the left, and gave no particular advantage to either side.
Clarin was relieved to hear the blare of trumpets from behind him. The waiting was over. He picked up his spear and shield.
‘March!’ he shouted.
They walked steadily, keeping to the same pace as Tycho’s central division.
Clarin worried. It wasn’t like him to do so. But he felt differently to previous engagements he had been involved in. In those other occasions he was full of emotions. But today he felt empty. It was hard to summon up hatred for the enemy he was about to fight. He didn’t know them.
The sound of drums and shouts filled the air. Looking up, he saw the ranks of infantry facing them begin to move. The tension and noise on the battlefield ratcheted up as the two sides moved towards each other. The gap between them started to close more quickly. Clarin could see that the enemy was more numerous. The danger of them outflanking his hundred soldiers was all too real. He could now pick out individual fighters coming to meet him. They presented a wall of shields, with spears, maces and other weapons ready to carve into his own forces.
Then it happened. Clarin felt the danger and the fear. The rage came next, and as the two infantry lines closed, he was ready. Rather than waiting for the Kalinthians to come to his line, he sprang forwards, relying on the Dog-men and the Barbarians to support him.
He shoved his spear forwards. It was turned by a shield. He reached forwards and grabbed at a shield, using his strength to pull the soldier out of the line, where he was quickly skewered by a spear. The Dog-man to his right rushed into the gap, teeth snapping and clawed hands swiping. Clarin risked another lurch forward, slamming his spear over the top of a shield and into the shoulder of a Kalinthian. He released his grip and drew the sword he had named Cutter. The pink crystal blade of the Isharite weapon flashed dangerously.
His front line had supported his move and the Kalinthians who opposed them hadn’t coped with it. Defending against his men had left their line of shields ragged, and a gap yawned in front of him. Readying himself, putting his body behind his shield, his face down, his sword arm trailing behind, Clarin grimaced and charged. He buffeted the enemy, using his strength to strike out and barge at those around him with his shield. He had to trust that his soldiers came with him, harrying the rest of the Kalinthian line.
Clarin twisted at the waist and used his hips and thighs to impart power into another barge. He felt the man in front give way, and found himself staggering forwards, walking on top of the man who had gone down. Now he swung his sword over his shoulder. It connected with the man in front, and he found he could push further forwards. Suddenly, he had space around him. He had broken through.
He allowed himself a brief backwards glance. His front line had followed him, carving a hole through th
e enemy. Now he could take advantage, but he had to be quick. Opening up his body, he slashed his sword at the disorganised enemy around him. He launched himself at one soldier, chopping down so viciously he heard the arm bone crack. He located the next nearest soldier, moving quickly towards him. This one defended Clarin’s blow with his shield, and then moved backwards when Clarin slammed his shield at his face. Clarin feinted to strike, and the soldier retreated again. Behind him, Tamir launched a two-handed downward strike, his giant steel blade connecting with the man’s shoulder. The blow knocked him to the ground, and it was then easy for Clarin to deal the death blow.
Clarin now led his men against the exposed end of the enemy line. Men who moments before had been ready to come around Clarin’s soldiers and envelope them now found themselves fighting for their lives.
Clarin looked up when he heard the thud of cavalry.
Sebastian, quick to understand what was happening, had led his reserves to join in. The remaining enemy infantry, separated from the rest of their forces, ran or died, as Sebastian’s cavalry tore into them, lances thrusting down, huge warhorses kicking and buffeting. The Knights knew what they were doing. As Clarin turned his men to face the rest of the enemy infantry, Sebastian was free to take his cavalry in behind them. Straton’s infantry was now in a vice, under attack from three directions as Tycho’s dismounted knights, Clarin’s force and Sebastian’s reserves all targeted them.
Victory seemed inevitable, so long as the enemy units were kept isolated. Clarin looked across the rest of the battlefield. He could see Remi’s cavalry engaged with the Kalinthian Knights led by Euthymius. Theron’s cavalry wasn’t in sight. With any luck, that meant they had the upper hand.
Another stretch of fighting ensued, but it must have been clear to Straton’s infantry that they were on their own. They began throwing down their weapons, and instead of slaughter, Clarin’s force turned to capturing and disarming the enemy infantry. Sebastian left him to it, taking his knights off to join with Remi.
The Jalakh Bow Page 12
