Is Barok still alive?
He had two brigades of cavalry himself if stories of his Hemari-madman-alsman were to be believed. On Fell Ponies, too.
I laughed out loud at the weary meandering of my thoughts until my addled mind made it full circle and delivered me to a useful conclusion. The messenger was convinced that Yarik was going to kill him. My brother would not allow news of his defeat to make it to my father.
I waved over the lieutenant that commanded the messenger’s escort. I said to him, “We have a proper camp and fresh water just there atop the next ridge. You are welcome to tent up until the road back west clears.”
“Thank you, Colonel. That is very welcome news. My horse will go lame if we try to head back today.”
He returned to his charge. The messenger did not at first seem inclined to stop, but acquiesced to the beleaguered lieutenant.
“Delaying a royal messenger?” Okel asked when they were gone.
“Working on a plan, Chief,” I said and let him read the message. “I need time with the lieutenant. He is from the 1st. Now, come, get the men moving. The faster we arrive, the sooner we can begin to cure our ills.”
My regiment made me proud. The men dismounted to save their horses, and lame though they were, they marched up that hill without a word about it.
I’d left Captain Ivinta and his company of scouts in camp to recuperate. He met me as I rode into the village.
“They’re gone,” he said. “Every man and beast here. They all lit out east.”
I looked to the church.
“Empty,” he said. “Every chair and candlestick is gone.”
My worn nerves were slow to register the importance of this. Concern prickled my chilled flesh. Yet I could not prevent a yawn that made my entire body shake.
To Okel I said, “Get the boys fed and onto their cots. There is nothing more we can do today. You can find me in my tent.”
I escaped the noises of the world inside, but something was wrong. I’d had a plan in mind, hadn’t I? I couldn’t focus. The details bounced around my head without meaning.
Wait. Where was Tanner?
Gone.
The place I stood and the people I was with were wrong. She was not there. I wanted her hand in mine. I wanted the sound of her voice in my ears. The happy warmth of love was locked away—missing. I was without ears, eyes, or voice. I clutched my hands together to keep myself from leaping to a horse and galloping madly in search of her.
I miss you, my love. I am coming. I will be there.
The pillow on my cot ate my face, and moments later it seemed, the smells of fresh-cooked meat and steeped mate woke me to the gathering of dawn.
“Are you hungry, love?” I asked and reached across the cot.
The empty space beside me was cold and damp from the pre-dawn air.
I sat up and wept quietly. Unfamiliar tears rolled down and dripped off my chin and my nose.
“Why are you crying?” I asked, and slapped away my tears. “You’ve not lost her. She’s just somewhere else.”
I smiled the same stupid smile I’d found in the swamp. I was off her list, and the obstacles between her and I had names and were creatures made of flesh and blood. She was headed to Havish with a man who was on her list and mine. Sahin would raise an army in Havish, and with it she would revenge herself upon all the men of the East who had offended her.
And a day would come soon when she would kill Sahin, and I would kill Yarik and the rest. Our lists would be blank, and we would be free.
“Chief,” I barked.
He stepped in holding a hot plate of ham steak and a large cup of steaming mate. “The messenger woke up the entire camp with the smell. I liberated a cup for you when I delivered the brigade’s healer to him.”
“Leave the food and call the captains,” I said and moved to the basin.
The food and mate were dancing in my belly, and I was back into my armor by the time he had assembled them. I strode out and took in the details I needed. My brigade was just as ragged but ready to fight if asked. Every man was in camp. Yarik’s camp was below, surrounded by pickets and breastworks, same as mine. His cookfires were only just coming to life. Both forces had lookouts and scouts out in force. No other smoke rose from anywhere upon the horizon. The messenger was still in camp. My alsman was not. We had seven days of provisions and twenty days water. The wind had shifted, the clear sky was in love with the rising sun, and it was going to be a glorious day.
I said to them, “Loot our supply train and share out the provisions to the men, but leave it otherwise intact. I want the brigade ready to decamp and ride at a moment’s notice. Summon the messenger’s lieutenant to me at once.”
“We cut east to get ahead of them?” Captain Grano growled excitedly.
“Do we attack Yarik first?” Captain Feseq asked, as if he’d dreamt of dancing with the Hurdu his whole life.
“Unknown, rot all. Go.”
They exploded away from me while I enjoyed the weight of armor and sword. I knew the fatigue of our long journey would return, so I stood quite still and gazed down upon the activated camp.
Okel trotted in with the lieutenant from the 1st. The young man wore his worries like a wet robe. He said, “I’m escort to a royal messenger, Lord Prince. I cannot suffer delay.”
“You know that if you ride west, Yarik will kill every one of you.”
“He will try,” he replied bravely, but there was no doubt of it. Yarik could not have word of his humiliating defeat get back to the capital.
I said to him, “Tell me about Bessradi. What has happened that my father’s letter and his messenger won’t say?”
He shook off Okel’s grip but did not walk away. His shoulders slumped. “It is madness,” he said. “The Tanayon was under siege when we left, and the palace a shambles from a battle that brought down the entrance hall and started a fire in the throne room. Every powerful man is hiding under his bed, and the rest are tearing each other apart.”
“Who has answered the Exaltier’s call to arms?”
“The levies have been called, and every nobleman with a purse and sword is calling up men in search of glory. It will be quite an army.”
“The Hemari?”
“No, sir. The 1st will stay in Bessradi, and the 4th in Alsonelm. There was talk that the 2nd or 3rd might mobilize out of Alsonvale, but Lord Vall has not declared war. The Hemari and the Hurdu cannot go east—except those attached to his sons, Lord Prince. To you, I mean, my lord.”
“Where is the army of the faithful assembling? Not Bessradi, I presume?”
“Alsonbrey, I imagine.”
I took hold of his arm, struck by inspiration. “I need something else from you, Lieutenant. I ride west today, not east—in moments, in fact. I’ll get you away from Yarik if you ride out with us.”
His spine straightened. “What could I possibly do for you in return?”
“Get word to General Platon—tell him I’m returning directly to take command of the rest of the 5th division. He is to make it ready to move.”
“The 5th …? Move?” he asked skeptically. “Yours is the only brigade to move in twenty years.”
I set my eyes on him, and he saluted sharply before starting back toward his command.
Okel asked, “You are giving up the chase?”
“We’re not after a single man anymore. Travijion and the court got the war they wanted. This war will start at Alsonbrey, not a Bermish border camp. We are riding home where I will wrest command of that army from whatever fool thinks it is his. The East will bend a knee to me before Yarik makes it clear of these swamps.”
“The men will be pleased to hear it,” he said. “Shall I give the order to decamp?”
“Yes,” I said and took hold of his arm. “And find me a troop of volunteers. Make sure the messenger is held up just a bit. He won’t want to miss this part.”
“Yes, sir,” Okel said with a sergeant’s equivalent to happiness.
; My brigade tore down its tents with practiced fury. Half the men were already mounted when my alsman hurried across. Yarik’s alsman and a pair of Hurdu colonels trailed behind him.
“Morning, sirs,” I said with a smile.
“Where are you going?” Alsman Herr demanded.
“Away,” I said.
“You will not head east. Is that understood? Prince Yarik is in command of the pursuit of these bandits. You will stand down.”
“Will I?”
“You’ve jested too lightly with me for the last time, Prince Evand. I order you to return to Alsonbrey. Do you understand me?”
“Perfectly. We’ll remove ourselves to Alsonbrey at once upon your authority over me. Was there anything else you needed?”
The alsmen looked at each other, suspicious but slowly smiling. “Yes,” Alsman Herr said. “Yes, there is. The Hurdu are in need of provisions. You will hand over whatever your quartermaster has on hand immediately.”
“Straight away. Perhaps the good colonels who escorted you here could take command of my train—get all of our foodstuffs inventoried so there is no mistake?”
They looked very pleased with themselves and were so thoroughly done with me that they didn’t even bother to say it. The four started away and began chatting amongst themselves.
“One more thing, Alsman Herr,” I said, and they turned.
“What now?”
I pointed the nearby troop of volunteers at them and said, “Put the alsmen on pikes for me.”
The ready guardsmen leapt upon the pair. Their protests became screams as long pikes were rammed up through their bodies. Yarik’s colonels stood frozen in place while the pikes were stood up and planted in the ground.
I said to them, “Tell my brother he can thank me later. I wish him luck catching this Ludoq royal. And can you tell me, so that I have it right, how many men did you lose to their ambush?”
Alsman Herr’s body pushed farther down the pike and blood poured noisily from his mouth for a moment. His legs kicked feebly, and then he died.
“Sirs, the number?” I demanded.
“312,” one of them said.
I turned to the messenger who had witnessed it all. “Any questions for them before you carry your report of this place to my father?”
He pointed at the alsmen. “Why?”
“They were in league with the Ludoq bandit, Travijion Pelleun, and the conservancy priest of Doctrice. They conspired to rob the church and murder my father’s sons.”
I turned to the colonels. “Do you concur?”
The pair were noblemen, Bellion both. It mattered very little if what I said was truth or fiction. Blame was being assigned, and they and Yarik were free of it. They gave their assent with deep bows, the messenger retreated, and I gestured the Hurdu toward my supply train.
“Compliments of the 5th,” I said and started my brigade back west.
30
Boatswain Soma O’Nropeel
The 13th of Spring, 1196
“Oh, mother,” Pix said with pure delight when she and her father stepped up onto the storm-battered deck and she got her first look at Heneur. She joined me at the prow and gave me a great hug that pushed back at my worries.
The towering cliffs of the long coastline rose up in the distance then times the height of Barok’s keep. They were of a stone much darker than what was found in Enhedu, almost black, and covered with tough yellow grass. It was a formidable sight, though at that distance the cliff-edged coast looked like the crumbling top of a rye muffin.
“Have you seen it before?” she asked.
“My father brought us to Wilgmuth once when I was very young to visit his uncles, but not by sea. This is the first time anyone from our family has seen the cliffs that I know of.” I pointed at a crumbled section of the coastline. “Wilgmuth is at the top of that valley. You will love it. Flowers growing everywhere, a hundred bridges, and a high black wall. South from there the land is as flat as the Bessradi plains until it reaches the mountains and descends through Opti Pass. Your grandfather grew up there carting ore from the mines to Wilgmuth. That is where he met your grandmother, on a hill beneath Mount Lazez.”
“It is so beautiful. How did they get all the way to the Bessradi River?”
“Ambition. The Royal Pqrista who ruled Heneur then were very strong. They encouraged many to move to the Kaaryon. But when father arrived, the work he was promised was not there. There was a war, instead. The river wharf was the only place he could find where no one cared where he was from. He put together all the coins he had and bought an old barge. Your grandfather was quite a man.”
“She doesn’t need to hear all of that,” Sevat said. He was still wrapped in a thick blanket and smelled of seasickness.
Pix ignored him. “Do we have any family left in Wilgmuth? I want to meet them.”
“The storms took us a bit too far west last night, so we cannot make it up the valley today. Tomorrow, perhaps.”
“I hated the storm,” she said with a bit of a shiver.
“None of us liked that one,” was all I could say.
We had managed to rejoin the Phalia the morning after the storm, but only by a stroke of pure luck. She had suffered, and we had been two days clawing back up the wind toward Heneur. Her daytime sail was lost, her storm sail was torn, and she was starting to take on water. We stayed as close astern as we could. There was still a very real worry that she would go down. Etchpay had so far refused to shed any of his cargo, and had moved much of it on deck. His crew looked near death. I found it very hard to enjoy the view.
Pix’s hug was wonderful, though, and I held her all the way south to the town of Lindrig. The large town sat at the bottom of a steep valley astride a river fed by the many waterfalls that carved the valley’s west face. The sight was breathtaking, but the town had the same stricken look as the Phalia. Just two small crafts were tied onto its two long piers, and the town’s streets and chimneys displayed little sign of life.
Some of this was explained when we cleared the round towers at the narrow harbor entrance. Most of the town and what could only be Arilas Vlek himself waited for us in the wide plaza behind the piers.
There was no cheering when the ships drifted in and tied on. I could feel the nervousness of the crowd. Captain Etchpay was the first down and immediately called for help from the crowd. Sailors rushed the Phalia as Lieutenant Bohn and his Chaukai sergeant led Admiral Mercanfur and my family toward the plaza. We each looked our best in fresh dresses, pocketed vests, and uniforms preserved for the occasion.
Etchpay stayed with his ship. The situation below deck must have been dire.
Partway down the pier, Sevat said to Mercanfur, “You’ve done your bit. Leave the rest to me.”
Mercanfur was offended. He scratched at his fresh-shaved chin and spit over the side of the pier.
Idiot men, Heneur is watching us!
“Etchpay could use your help, I am sure,” I suggested.
“I’ll go as well,” Lieutenant Bohn said even as Sevat told him to stay. The two Chaukai he left behind ignored Sevat’s dark stare. My husband glared at Mercanfur’s back.
“We are not in Bessradi anymore. These are our friends,” I said, took his left arm, and motioned Pix to take the other. I tucked Barok’s letter case under his arm. “Come, the arilas is waiting.”
“Where did the greencoats take you after the rockslide?” he asked without looking at me.
“I cannot tell you. Not yet.”
“Cannot? What are you now that you have secrets from your husband?”
“The place you brought us demands such things—you know this. Do not ask me what I cannot tell you.”
Pix asked sadly, “Father, why don’t you like my dress?”
“I like it very much,” he said. “Whatever do you mean? I had it made for you.”
“Then why are you frowning?” she demanded.
He laughed, knowing he was outnumbered, and managed by the time we were before
Arilas Lukan Vlek to even his pace and soften his expression.
The nervous crowd edged closer as polite introductions were exchanged. The black-bearded arilas had two daughters and a stern-looking square-jawed wife. Also introduced to us was Eppel O’Nrosevel, the master horseman responsible for the Fell Ponies that were the backbone of Enhedu. Everyone in the crowd, even the arilas, was a bit gaunt. A few looked weak enough to be knocked over by the wind.
“All’s well?” the arilas asked bluntly, making little effort to hide his accent.
Sevat did him a great service by explaining Prince Barok’s neighborly intentions and the travails of our voyage. My husband was not capable of narrative, but I do not think the crowd had the stamina for anything but his remarkably succinct delivery of facts.
Barok’s letter was produced with a bow. Lukan read it on the spot, and his hopeful smile became a raucous laugh. To everyone’s surprise, he turned and read the letter for all to hear.
1st of Spring, 1196
* * *
Lukan Vlek, Arilas of Heneur,
Enhedu wishes you well, on this auspicious and promising first day of the new year. Please accept the foodstuffs borne to you by our brave captains as a gift from the people of Enhedu.
* * *
Mend your boats, sir, and tell your smiths to make nails. I have grain, fish, and hogs but very few nails.
Forgotten Stairs Page 13
