Markan Empire

by Nicholas A. Rose

  "We might force a way through, but we'd take casualties in any rescue attempt," added Felnar.

  Yochan shook his head. "No rescue. The Boss has said no."

  Felnar shrugged. "Probably wise. Even if a sylph slipped through, he couldn't free Belaika from that chain."

  "We must think of something," insisted Yochan. "We're not going to leave him to the enemy."

  "Of course not." Felnar and Udan exchanged a look that suggested they thought there was little choice but to abandon Belaika to his fate.

  Yochan sighed. This would be difficult, but he always kept his promises. There would be a way.

  ***

  Chapter 2

  Marka

  Petan looked across the table at his companion and smiled, though that smile did not touch his hazel eyes. He wore a work smock, woolen trousers and cracked boots that suggested a laborer rather than a soldier. Nothing to say that he was still allegedly a sergeant in Hingast's recently defeated army.

  He doubted if his officers would recognize him, probably just as well considering his beard fanned to his chest, a style no Eldovan officer could countenance.

  The alovak house fronted one of the wider side streets in Marka. Petan and his companion were sitting out front, trying to ignore the spring wind. The third chair for this table had been pushed away, to deter anyone else from joining them.

  Similarly dressed to Petan, the second man had never before visited this alovak house. He had used a plant sap – if he'd used paint, he would regret his poor choice – to dye his hair black. When he first met Councilor Brendin Jendran, the man's hair had been sandy, almost red. He could do nothing about his dark blue eyes, though these were typically Markan.

  The Councilor had probably borrowed the idea of disguising his hair color from the sylph scouts.

  Petan tugged irritably at his beard, though the itching stage was long past. "There's no need for this," he growled.

  "If not for that sylph you didn't kill last year, you'd not need it," retorted Brendin.

  "I tried," said Petan, defensively.

  "And failed, or else he made a miraculous recovery. I don't believe in undead sylphs."

  "He looked pretty dead to me."

  "He looks pretty bloody healthy now."

  Petan changed the subject before he got angry. He might not have killed Janin-allegedly-no-owner, but he was very effective at finishing off stroppy humans. "What are the latest instructions?"

  Most who patronized this alovak house were more sympathetic to Hingast's cause than Zenepha's, or else were plain disreputable, but discretion came easily. Caution was one reason they sat outside, despite the season and its chill wind.

  "They left a sylph named Tangan behind and they want him back. He's presently in Sandev's house."

  Petan grimaced. "You expect me to wander into the home of one of the most powerful Gifted and steal something guarded by another of the most powerful Gifted. Not to mention a man who acts as though he was born with a sword in his hands. And several sylphs in the building, including the one I believed dead, who will doubtless recognize me the moment I walk in."

  Brendin's smile had remained in place too long to be genuine. "You don't have to go there in person. I'm sure you know many who are more than capable."

  "And if this sylph makes a noise?"

  The smile was gone now. Without it, those dark blue eyes were very cold. "The neck arteries are in the same place in sylphs as they are in humans."

  "So, an assassination. Why is this sylph important?"

  "All you need know is that we want him back. Preferably alive, but dead will do." Brendin threw a coin onto the table. "For the alovak."

  Petan stared at the table for some time after the Councilor had gone, his mind awhirl. How could a sylph be so important?

  ***

  Marcus Vintner leaned on his fists and stared at the largescale map spread across the table. His gaze flickered all over, pausing briefly at each flag that marked the positions of his own detachments and the scattered groups of Hingast's army. The map showed the continent from Eldova in the west to Re Taura in the east; Frodger in the north to the Trading Council's lands in the south. Known positions were marked in red and estimated positions in blue. Flags marking Eldovan positions were distinguished by a black border. The further from Marka, the more blue flags.

  The map was so large, that two old dining tables had been joined together to hold it. The map room now occupied one of the smaller dining halls in the palace, with room to fit in up to thirty people at a time. The paintings had been removed and replaced by maps, if smaller scale than that on the table.

  Sylph scouts were thinly spread around Marka: all available trained scouts – and many partly trained ones – were in the field and staying there longer than was really fair. Complaints and grumbles would begin soon, if they had not already. But Marcus must tolerate detachments straying in and out of whistle range, so the sylphs would just have to put up with discomfort a bit longer than usual.

  Marcus was not alone in the room. Emperor Zenepha knew far more about the principles of warfare than six months before. He could certainly assess the information given by the map a lot more quickly. Mikhan Annada, Zenepha's War Minister and Marshal of Marka, stood beside the Emperor. Also Marshal of Sandester, Annada had become one of Zenepha's closest confidants. Too close, in Marcus's view, who worried that his already too-small influence on the Emperor had ebbed away.

  He hoped everybody remembered who had won last year's battle on Candin Plain. Annada's influence over Zenepha rankled.

  Captain Mansard, Commander of the Imperial Guard, and General Kelanus, again Field Commander, were at least Marcus's men, even if Kelanus used to serve under Annada. Captain Crallin of the City Guard was also present, but his only loyalty was to Marka.

  The gwerin Silmarila stood just behind Zenepha, ready to whisper in the sylph's ear, though Marcus had already realized she had no concept of military tactics. With war the subject of the meeting, the ilven Djerana was conspicuous by her absence.

  That surprised him, because ilven were allegedly the sephiroths' warriors. Little wonder that Siranva always seemed to be on the back foot. Although Grayar assured him that ilven had more growing to do once called to the Father, Marcus failed to see what difference that could make. He could not put the image of a fierce warrior together with shy, inoffensive Djerana.

  Jenn, who had belonged to Marcus since both were children, sat crosslegged on the floor, not wanting to be any further from her owner than necessary. Whenever he spent time away from Zandra and the children, Jenn kept herself near.

  Supreme Councilor Olista's duties kept him away. Though now Marka had an Emperor, discussions here were no longer his concern.

  "There is little change from our last meeting," said Marcus. "The Eldovan Army is still scattered, and all the pieces are moving. But they only move around and not away. To the best of our knowledge, Janost and Hanan are alive. General Mirrin lurks further west, beyond our communication lines."

  A small stir met his words; people were so used to sylph scouts that they forgot their limitations. Marcus continued.

  "The enemy avoids contact, despite skirmishes. We are still to learn precisely who exercises overall command, but despite the rumors, it is definitely not Hingast. More worrying is that these groups have been reinforced with fresh men. Which means they must be in contact with each other. We suspect either the Gifted or, more likely, sorcerers maintain communications between the groups."

  Another small stir. Everyone knew there were rare individuals, born with an inborn ability, the Gift from the Father of the Benefic Sephiroth. Practitioners never sought the Gift, nor could it be learned without the Gift inborn. Those who sought such powers became sorcerers and that power was no gift, but inspired by the Malefic Sephiroth. So many humans deliberately sought power, so there were more sorcerers than Gifted, though both types were thankfully rare. Nobody liked the thought of such a person controlling an army.
<
br />   "Bringing fresh men forward suggests they want to try again," rumbled Kelanus, his bass voice low.

  "One of the patrols presently out of range should send a sylph within distance in the next day or so." Marcus ignored the interruption. "General Mirrin has also increased the size of his force."

  "How?" Zenepha's voice was quiet. "They dare not reduce their strength in Eldova too far."

  "They probably gain some recruits locally," replied Marcus.

  "These things happen, Majesty," explained Kelanus. "Armies on foreign soil attract recruits. Lots of farmboys get bored staring at an ox's rear all day. Before they learn the reality, a soldier's life seems glamorous and exciting. We gain some, so do they."

  "The Eldovans refuse contact, yet do not return home," said Mikhan. "Are they just taunting us?"

  "We should chase them down, Majesty," said Kelanus, speaking to Zenepha. "If you would permit me –"

  "No." Zenepha's voice was light yet firm. "We need you here, General Kelanus. Perhaps the General of Lances could be sent?"

  Both Marcus and Kelanus smiled. The newly promoted General Kestan had more than proved his mettle during the siege.

  "Perhaps, Majesty," agreed Kelanus, after a quick glance at Marcus.

  Marcus noted Mikhan's scowl. The man hated anyone coming to Zenepha's attention without his approval. Mikhan would do anything to help Zenepha continue as Emperor and deny Marcus his birthright.

  Zenepha turned to Crallin. "Have we uncovered or captured any more enemy agents in Marka?"

  "They have gone to ground, Majesty. Only those already known to us have been brought in. We can't rule out the possibility of more – there are always traitors ready to be bought off or turned – and only one man known to us still evades capture."

  "Petan?"

  Crallin nodded. "Him, yes."

  "Might Sallis ti Ath help?" Zenepha looked unsure whether ti Ath's name left a bad taste in his mouth or not.

  "He's been busy." Crallin smiled. "We've not set him onto Petan. Yet."

  "What are the intentions of Eldova's new ruler?" asked Zenepha.

  Marcus spoke. "We don't know if Eldova has a new ruler. Representatives take a while to cross the continent in unsettled times. It's unlikely that there will be any change in policy. Hingast's uncle will press the claim I feel. And we heard that one of Hingast's wives is pregnant. She'll have birthed by now. If the child's a boy..." He spread his hands and shrugged.

  "The way of humans," added Silmarila. "There will always be somebody to press a claim until the question of who sits on the Throne of Mark is settled."

  "The question is settled," interrupted Mikhan.

  Marcus tried not to sigh.

  Silmarila curled her upper lip. "For now yes, but there will always be those who refuse to see anything any way except their way. Your assumption is the most likely, Marcus-ya."

  Marcus's dark blue eyes met the gwerin's dark brown. She held his gaze easily, as if passing an unspoken message for him alone. He could never tell whose side she was on. She claimed only to speak in the best interest of Marka. She could not pass comment on claims, but she would serve whoever sat on the Throne. She would give the same loyal service to whoever sat on it. Not her place to pass comment, but surely she had an opinion? Marcus had no idea how to take the gwerin, but her involvement with his gwerin did not make him feel any better.

  "I recommend," said Mikhan, "that we leave Petan alone unless he moves against us. The Eldovan soldiers surrounding our city, even from a distance, are a more immediate concern and I strongly urge we increase our soldiers engaged in eliminating the enemy dotted about. And there is another concern."

  Zenepha raised an eyebrow.

  Here we go, thought Marcus.

  "We must pay attention to Re Taura. They've raised a sizeable army and clearly intend using it."

  "Marka and Re Taura have never had problems before, Marshal." Zenepha's voice was quiet.

  "Re Taura believes a resurgent Marka will monopolize trade in the Bay of Plenty." Mikhan tapped the relevant area of the map. "They may wish to seize land to gain greater control in the area. Trenvera is the most likely place to drive a wedge between Calcan and Sandester."

  "That would be no more than a diversion," countered Kelanus. "We denude Marka to reinforce Calcan, Sandester or Trenvera, and the Eldovans will kick the gates in here again. Leave defense of the area to the armies already in place while we concentrate on destroying the Eldovans. Ignore Re Taura."

  "Re Taurans on the mainland could threaten Marka," protested Mikhan.

  "How?" demanded Kelanus. "Even if they seized land, they still need to resupply from overseas, which is no easy task. Both Calcan and Sandester have ships to interfere with any supply route. Trenvera is the same size as Re Taura and has as many people. No invader could reach us from there unless they can live off the land, do without supply trains and defend themselves against a hostile population. Look at the problems the Eldovans have; look at the problems we have."

  "Conjecture." Mikhan waved a dismissive hand. "We can't afford to ignore Re Taura. The Mametain has not built up an army of that size for no reason at all. He is a threat."

  "Whoever now leads the Eldovans felt compelled to retreat almost all the way home over the winter," pointed out Kelanus. "They've only managed to push forward again this spring. And they crossed relatively sparsely populated regions. That isn't the case to the east. Re Taurans would have to fight their way here and defend their supply routes." The General shook his head. "Not a chance."

  Marcus added support. "Historically, Re Taura has had no territorial ambitions on the mainland and they have always avoided trouble with Marka. They have always treasured their independence, which would end if they attack us and lose."

  "If they attack Calcan," spluttered Mikhan, "you might not be so dismissive of them."

  If they attack Sandester, you mean, reflected Marcus.

  "I suspect that the Re Taurans are working with the Eldovans," said Kelanus.

  Mikhan snorted. "And how do they keep contact?"

  "Probably the same way the different Eldovan groups keep contact," pointed out Marcus.

  "Marka alone is the target," insisted Kelanus. "Any Re Tauran action is diversionary."

  "We must track and destroy the Eldovans who infest our lands." Zenepha looked from Mikhan to Kelanus, perhaps to remind them who was really in charge.

  "Yes," said Kelanus. "A policy I recommend."

  "Marshal Mikhan?" Zenepha looked at the aging marshal.

  Mikhan bowed, but said nothing.

  "Then that is what we shall do. Should we offer Trenvera protection?"

  "Let them ask for it." Silmarila pursed her lips. "They will suspect your motive otherwise."

  Zenepha's earpoints sagged a little. "Not very many prefectures have returned to the fold. We may have to force them all, eventually."

  Mikhan laughed. "Majesty, you rule lands from the tundra in the north to the Trading Council in the south. All of Sandester and Calcan has submitted to you. Entry to the Bay of Plenty is controlled by lands you rule. Your achievements are greater than any other Emperor in our history."

  Silmarila smiled. "That is true," she said. "If Marka expands to Frodger in the north and Eldova in the west, you will rule lands the size of the First Empire."

  Zenepha sniffed, but he had flushed a slightly darker blue under the praise.

  Marcus's eyes were flat. Some lands were supposed to submit to him, but Nazvasta Vintner had never replied to his letters. His instincts warned of trouble ahead from that quarter.

  "Very well, we will leave it there." Zenepha smiled around the table. "If anything changes, inform me immediately."

  All remained standing until Zenepha, followed by Silmarila, left the room.

  Jenn almost trod on her owner's heels as they left the map room. Once in the corridor, she positioned herself to walk alongside him.

  Marcus ruffled his sylph's hair affectionately. "My duties keep me from
spending as much time with you as I would like."

  Jenn smiled up at him and her earpoints twitched. "We are together now," she said. "It is enough." Fatalistic, as always.

  "Missing the field?" Marcus raised an eyebrow.

  Jenn nodded. At least there, she had him to herself.

  "The time will come when we will campaign again. But we must return to Zandra now; apologies if that disappoints you."

  Jenn pulled a face, but she preferred Zandra's company when her only alternative might be neglect. Before Marcus reached his rooms, Morran Fynn stepped out to speak with him. Whatever the clerk had to say was clearly meant for Marcus only, as Smudge turned from a tapestry to engage Jenn in conversation.

  "Your Majesty," began Fynn. "Is Zenepha still unaware of Sandev's disappearance?"

  "To the best of my knowledge."

  "He wants to know why she has not been to see him all winter. My assurances that she is about her work elsewhere are beginning to wear thin. Any news from Grayar or Stanak concerning her whereabouts?"

  Marcus smiled. It must grate that Fynn had lowered himself to ask his employer for information. Or perhaps he intended to pass a coded warning.

  "Nothing," he replied. "What are you trying to tell me?"

  "Tell, Majesty?" Despite Zenepha being Emperor, many of Marcus's servants still referred to him as if he were the Emperor and not a cast-aside claimant. "Better Zenepha remains in ignorance, or he might panic when he discovers that Marka's true protector is a prisoner. But if he discovers the truth for himself..." Fynn shrugged.

  Marcus looked over his shoulder at Jenn, deeply engrossed with whatever Smudge had to say. Sylphs saw much and let on little, but he wondered if Jenn either knew or suspected the truth about Sandev's whereabouts.

  If people learned that the enemy had captured Sandev... He reached a decision.

  "The secret must be kept as long as possible. Any news from the east? Mikhan is growing more concerned and presses harder for our involvement with every meeting."

  Fynn inclined his head; if he was annoyed by the abrupt change of subject, nothing showed. "Nothing yet. In fairness, Majesty, our people may only just have reached Re Taura. Far too early to expect information."

  "Fair enough."

  Fynn changed the subject back again. "Must the secret be kept at any cost?"