by Fire
Now that’s something the theurgia never knew, she told herself. Shamanism or not, this works.
“Now we cast,” Lasthear said. “I want you to say what I say.”
Jenrosa nodded, and as Lasthear recited her incantation, Jenrosa repeated the words; some of them were familiar, some not.
The objects started to smoke, then they burst into flame. The color of the flame changed from yellow to blue, and still Lasthear recited, and Jenrosa repeated.
“Now concentrate on the heart of the flame,” Lasthear said. “We will see what we can see.”
Jenrosa did as she was told. Almost immediately she saw a vision of a land not dissimilar from that around the High Sooq, but then she noticed some differences. The grass was greener, not so damaged by the winter. There were mountains in the background. And there were buildings, like those around the lake, and like those at...
“The Strangers’ Sooq,” Jenrosa said.
“Yes. But why are we drawn there? Keep concentrating.”
The vision seemed to rotate as if the plane of the earth was revolving beneath them. Jenrosa noticed there was a figure in the middle, and wherever the figure went they seemed to follow.
“A Chett,” Lasthear said. “Not very tall.”
“Gudon!” Jenrosa cried with certainty.
Lasthear looked at her with surprise. “Yes, I think you are right. I did not see that.”
Then Gudon looked up at the sky, directly at them.
“He senses us,” Jenrosa said.
“No, he senses you,” Lasthear said with awe. “Your casting is powerful indeed.”
“What do I do?”
“The magic must be showing him to us for a reason. In your mind, tell him what has happened here.”
Jenrosa recalled the flight from the High Sooq of the clans opposed to Korigan, then she put in her mind the picture of Lynan’s army forming and marching out. She saw Gudon smile with what she thought was relief.
“This is remarkable,” Lasthear said.
“Prado!” Jenrosa shouted.
“What?”
“Gudon brings news of Prado.”
“He is casting to you?”
“No. I can see it in his mind. He is exhausted. He has been riding hard for several days. Prado was in Daavis when Gudon left there, and Gudon believes he is not far behind. He says Prado is coming to the Oceans of Grass, and he says Haxus is invading Hume.”
In her mind, Jenrosa told Gudon that they knew of the invasion, but not of Prado. Then she told him that Rendle was also moving into the Oceans of Grass. Gudon replied, but she could not hear him properly. There was a pain somewhere in the middle of her head, and the vision started to fade. She tried to hold it, but the pain increased so suddenly she shouted in agony. The flame disappeared, leaving nothing but a wisp of dark greasy smoke that drifted into the sky and dispersed.
Jenrosa slumped over her horse. Lasthear reached out to hold her steady. “I have never seen anything like this,” Last-hear told her. “You have a power that has not been seen among the Chetts since the last Truespeaker died.”
Jenrosa barely heard the words. The pain in her head subsided quickly after the vision went, but she was more tired than she had ever felt before in her life. If Lasthear had not steadied her, she would have fallen out of the saddle.
Ager quickly organized the Ocean clan with Morfast’s help. Their traditional territory was north of the White Wolf clan and southeast of Terin’s South Wind clan, a situation which explained their ambivalent loyalty to Korigan’s father—for centuries they had been the fly between two hard rocks, and everything they did was determined by the attitude of the chiefs of their neighboring clans. But now the ambivalence was gone; the Ocean clan was loyal to Prince Lynan, the White Wolf himself. Too many of the clan’s warriors wanted to join the Chett army, and Ager had to persuade them that some had to stay behind to protect the herd in the uncertain and dangerous months ahead. He allotted a thousand warriors to stay with the clan and placed them under the command of someone Morfast had told him was well respected and wise, a man called Dogal, and the rest— another thousand—joined Lynan’s army. They took pride in the fact that the crookback was their chief; he was after all a close friend and confidant of Lynan, and had proved himself the most formidable of warriors despite his deformities.
The army moved out first, nearly twenty thousand strong. It was arranged in banners of a thousand, each banner comprising ten troops, and each troop comprising one hundred riders from a single clan. Some of the larger clans, such as the White Wolf, contributed several troops, and they were distributed among several banners so that no clan would dominate. The banners were usually commanded by clan chiefs, including Ager, but one banner was commanded by Kumul and was made up of those riders he had started training as lancers, and another banner was made up entirely of the Red Hands—who proudly carried the short sword as well as the saber—and was commanded by Makon in Gudon’s absence.
As Ager watched the army leave the High Sooq, he could not help the pride swelling within him. It was greater than the pride he had felt as a young captain serving under Lynan’s father, the General, because he had played a part in its creation. He also felt a greater loyalty to this army. Even before he had become a chief among the Chetts, he had started thinking he had found his true home, that his wanderings had at last come to an end. After the Slaver War he had been attracted to the sea because it promised him a life without borders, and the Oceans of Grass promised something similar. Here, even a crookback could find respect and a kind of inner peace.
Lynan rode near the vanguard, his Red Hands surrounding him. They carried pennants, and Ager was surprised to see they were not the pennant of the White Wolf, but a new design. It was a plain gold circle on a blood-red background. Ager smiled to himself. Clever, he thought. The Key of Union is our flag. And all those who fight against us, fight against that. He wondered who had thought up that idea, knowing it would never have been Kumul. Korigan, of course. She is cleverer and more dangerous than a wounded great bear. I’m glad she’s on our side. Ager shook his head. At least, I hope she’s truly on our side.
Morfast jiggled his elbow, and he turned to see the clans now moving away from the High Sooq, his own among them. He swallowed hard, only now realizing what it meant to have the loyalty of so many. The responsibility both terrified him and filled him with a wild joy.
My people, he thought. He did not know if he would survive the next few months, but if he did, nothing would stop him returning.
As if she had been reading his mind, Morfast said, “They will wait for you. You are destined to die among them, not apart from them.”
Ager grunted. He glanced at her with his one eye. “Are you a prophet, Morfast?”
She grinned and shook her head. “No. But you have to admit it sounded good.”
Ager grinned back. “You’ll never know how good,” he said.
The Chett army had not gone far by the end of the first day, partly because it started off disentangling itself from the herds and wagons around the High Sooq, but mostly because it was the first time so many Chett warriors had been gathered together into a single force—nearly twice the size of the largest army Korigan’s father had brought together during the Chett civil war. Kumul had done his best to sort out an order of march, and as the day progressed, they had actually started to ride with some kind of unity. That night, Kumul made sure they camped according to their position in tomorrow’s order of march, and only arrived at the commanders’ meeting well after it had started.
It was a large meeting, including all the chiefs and their seconds-in-command, as well as Lynan and Jenrosa. They were gathered around a large fire. This night there was little to discuss at first, mainly minor problems relating to the hurt pride of chiefs whose banners had been relegated to the rear half of the army. Lynan assured them that the banners would be rotated from necessity, since no banner could be expected to always hold the responsibility that came with be
ing the vanguard or rearguard.
When the chiefs had stopped asking questions, Lynan asked if there were any other matters. Jenrosa stood up and said nervously: “Jes Prado will soon be on the Oceans of Grass,” then sat down again.
All eyes settled on her, and she wished she was an ant and could crawl under the nearest rock. Several people started talking at the same time.
“Quiet,” Lynan commanded, and everyone shut up. “Jenrosa, how do you know this?”
“She helped me cast,” said a new voice, and Lasthear stepped forward. The magicker shook her head and half-smiled. “The truth is, she took over the casting.”
“What do you mean?” Korigan demanded. She had not been keen on Jenrosa being trained by a magicker who was not from the White Wolf clan, but Ager had been persuasive and it was another way of tying the Ocean clan to her cause, so in the end she had agreed to it.
“I mean, my queen,” Lasthear said respectfully, “that Jenrosa—without my assistance—actually communicated with another Chett, one who was at the Strangers’ Sooq.”
“So far!” Korigan said in surprise. “None among us has been able to do that since—”
“Since the Truespeaker died,” Lasthear finished for her. “And indeed, the one Jenrosa communicated with was the Truespeaker’s son.”
Korigan jumped to her feet. “Gudon!”
“What’s this about Gudon?” Lynan asked, staring at Korigan and Jenrosa in turn.
“He is fleeing Prado,” Jenrosa said. “He was at Daavis, spying on Charion as you requested, when Prado turned up with a large force of mercenaries. He is certain they are coming after you.”
There were shouts from many at the meeting, angry that the queen of Grenda Lear would hire mercenaries to hunt down her own brother, and even angrier that she would send mercenaries to the Oceans of Grass.
“How long?” Kumul’s voice boomed over the noise. Everyone fell quiet again.
“What?” Jenrosa asked.
“How long before Prado reaches the plains?”
Jenrosa shrugged. “Gudon did not know. He felt they were close behind. They may already be across the mountains.”
Kumul turned to Lynan. “I knew we should have marched northeast to take care of Rendle. Now we have two mercenary forces to worry about before we even get to the east, and we are between them. We must ride hard to the Strangers’ Sooq. It is closest to us. God knows we won’t arrive in time to save it, but with luck we might get there before Prado moves out again.”
“He may not be making for the Strangers’ Sooq,” another voice said, and an argument started about Prado’s intentions.
Lynan kept quiet. He understood Kumul’s frustration. Jenrosa’s news had shaken him, too, at first. But there was an opportunity here, he could feel it. If only he could pin down the idea that was floating at the back of his mind.
And then he had it.
“We continue marching due east,” he said quietly. Some of the chiefs were still arguing and did not hear him. Korigan did, though, and looked at him. “We march east and have Rendle in one hand and Prado in the other.”
“What are you saying?” Korigan asked. “We have a large force, but as yet we have had no experience in fighting as an army. And you want us to take on two mercenary forces at the same time? Surely it would be better to concentrate on either Rendle or Prado first, and then turn on the other.”
Lynan shook his head, a smile crossing his face. “No, that would not be better.”
By now everyone realized Lynan was speaking, and they shut up to listen to him.
“Did I hear you say we just continue riding east?” Kumul asked.
“Yes.”
“That’s stupid, lad,” Kumul said bluntly. “You’ll put us smack between our enemies.”
Lynan’s smile disappeared. He stared at the giant, his pale face shining in the light of the fire. “I will take your advice, Kumul Alarn, but I will not take your insults.”
Kumul’s face blushed bright red. All around him held their breath. Even Lynan did not know what his old friend would do. Jenrosa stood up and moved to stand by Kumul, but suddenly Ager was by her side, holding her back.
“Do not divide us further,” he hissed in her ear.
Kumul looked down at his hands. He was confused by his own anger and sense of humiliation. He then looked up at Lynan, saw the youth’s implacable stare and understood he, too, felt humiliated.
“I am sorry,” Kumul said brusquely. “I had no right.”
Lynan swallowed. He could not let it end like this. There would be too much resentment on both sides.
“Kumul, Ager, and Jenrosa, we need to talk. Everyone else, please return to your banners.” He saw Korigan hesitate, but he nodded to her and she left.
The four remaining came together, standing, all trying to figure out what had just occurred between them and not liking the answer. They were dividing; after all they had gone through together, they were dividing.
“Kumul,” Lynan started, “I have good reasons for letting the army continue as it is.”
“I think you are unwise in risking the army getting caught between two enemies,” Kumul replied.
“I understand that. I will not let it happen.”
Kumul nodded perfunctorily, not happy with the answer but afraid to question Lynan again.
“I am not against you, Kumul,” Lynan said.
“I did not think you were—” Kumul blurted.
“Yes, you did. You think that I have turned against you in favor of Korigan. You think I am punishing you for treating me like a child.” He stopped. He wanted to say, And you think I am punishing you for being Jenrosa ‘s lover, but he could not say the words. Instead, he said: “That was partly true that night I made the decision to go to the High Sooq. It is not true now.”
“I accept that,” Kumul said, his anger tempered by Lynan’s honesty. “But am I to keep quiet when I disagree with you?”
“I hope not. Whether you know it or not, I still rely on you, old friend. I need you. But I do not need to be lectured by you.”
Kumul swallowed. “I am ever at your side.”
Lynan turned to Ager and Jenrosa. “The same goes for you, as well. I have not forgotten what you have all done for me. I have not forgotten the bonds of friendship. But one of the things you taught me was the responsibility of leadership, and now that I am a leader, I am responsible for more than our friendship. In the future I may say and do things that may make you forget that friendship, but I will never forget it.”
Ager and Jenrosa nodded.
“I need to talk to Kumul alone,” Lynan said, and they left. Lynan and Kumul looked at each other shyly. They opened their mouths to speak at the same time, then closed them together. That made them both grin.
“I count on you more than I can say,” Lynan said quickly.
“You have been my father, older brother, and teacher all at the same time. I always took it for granted that you would be by my side.”
Kumul tried to swallow, but his throat was suddenly constricted.
“I know about you and Jenrosa,” Lynan continued. “I was surprised.” He laughed bitterly. “I was hurt.”
“Lad, I did not mean—”
“I know,” Lynan said, holding up his hand. “It was self-pity on my part, something I’m very good at, as you well know. I am sorry for that. I want you to know that you both have my blessing.” Kumul looked up sharply. “Not that you require it, of course—”
“I am glad of it,” Kumul said.
Lynan sighed. He felt as if a great load had been lifted from his shoulders. “Well and good,” he said. “Well and good.”
Chapter 20
“Don’t look so grim,” Sendarus said.
“Easier said,” Areava replied, her arms around his neck. “I’ll be without you for God only knows how long.”
“Not long. We will throw Salokan back into Haxus by summer. By the start of autumn, I will be back in your bed.”
&nb
sp; “Our bed.”
“Oh, no. You are the queen.”
“The queen of beds.”
“The queen of hearts,” he said, and kissed her.
Areava laughed. “Oh, you are like butter.”
He kissed her again, and they did not come up for air for some time. At last, they heard the sound of troops marching outside.
“Your army is gathering, General,” Areava told him.
Sendarus nodded sadly. “Well, the sooner we leave, the sooner we’ll be back.” He patted her belly, already starting to swell. “I want to be here when our child is born.” There was something like reverence in his voice.
“Then you will have to handle Salokan speedily. Babies don’t schedule their birth for the benefit of generals or queens.”
“When do you think?” he asked seriously.
“Early to midsummer.”
“Close, but I will be here.” He let her go and went to the window overlooking the courtyard. “Cousin Galen is waiting for me. The knights look splendid in their mail.”
“It’s good to know the Twenty Houses are good for something,” Areava said.
“They don’t trust me, you know. They hate the fact that an Amanite is leading them. They wanted Olio.”
“They wanted someone they could manipulate. Olio would have surprised them, but with you, they won’t even try. You’ll be lucky to get a courteous word from them.”
“As long as they obey orders, I’ll not complain.”
Areava joined him. “Oh, they’ll obey your orders.” She placed a heavy chain over Sendarus’ neck. He looked down and fingered the Key of the Sword.
“You are leading my kingdom’s army into battle against our oldest and most determined foe. You have every right to wear it.”
Sendarus could not help puffing up a little with pride. The Key shone in the early morning light.
Areava placed her hand against his cheek. “You must go.”
Sendarus held her hand and looked down on her. For the first time she saw something akin to fear in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to change his mind; he pretended to smile, let go of her hand, and left.
