by Guy Antibes
Shira gave you the extra power you needed, Demeron said. That is what I think.
Pol smiled. “I think she did. When I felt a surge of power, I tweaked a pillar of dust, and it turned into Shira’s shape.”
“What was I wearing?” Shira asked with a smile.
“I don’t know. You were covered with too much dirt,” Pol said. He grasped her hand. “If the power came from you or from within myself, it doesn’t matter. I escaped. I’m more than happy to give you all the credit.”
“You should,” Shira said.
~
Pol and Shira never caught up to the Shinkyan horses and the rest of the party. It did not take an accomplished Seeker to follow their tracks through the southern part of Finster. The tracks dipped into Shinkya. They weren’t far from Lord Garimora’s estate. They decided to see if they could replenish their dwindling supplies.
They saw a heap of black ashes on the top of a hill and rode up to survey the remains of Lord Garimora’s estate. The Winnow Society raiders had plunged over the Shinkyan border and razed the place. They spotted a few bodies dressed as servants and paused long enough to bury them. Lord Garimora might have perished in his manor house.
At least no one had tampered with the well, so they were able to draw water for Amble and Demeron, and they refilled their own water supply.
“I’ll be returning to Shinkya,” Pol said, and he looked back at the destruction. “This scene should send shivers through the factions. This is what the Empire faces as the Winnowers take control.”
Shira rubbed her arm. “I never liked Lord Garimora, but he didn’t deserve an end like this.”
The alien essence was a personal enemy, but the Winnowers were just as bad in Pol’s mind. He had to defeat them, too.
They found the tracks again when they veered to the north and crossed the new pass from Shinkya to South Salvan. Shira told Pol that South Salvans had widened and leveled the trail to accommodate a single file of wagons.
The change from the arid land of Shinkya surprised Pol as they rode through green countryside. Shira said it was always green to some extent. Pol hadn’t spent more than a season in Tesna. His travels in South Salvan now seemed like a blur, five years later.
They finally had the opportunity to stay at an inn. Shira called the innkeeper over.
“How does the war go?” she asked.
“Same as always, although up north along the border there is talk of more Winnowers joining the forces. An army of horses arrived in Redearth a week or so ago,” the innkeeper said. “Rumors of some secret weapon, but…” the man shook his shoulders, “there’s been talk of such things before. Rumors are rumors. Where did you two come from?”
“Yastan,” Pol said. “We came with the horse army, but got delayed.”
“So you know the new Duke, then. They say the Duke of Redearth came with them.”
“I have a passing acquaintance with the man. He’s too high up for me,” Pol said.
“Me, too. I’m sure the Duke looks down on us common folk,” Shira said.
“Well, give him a chance. This is his first time in our land, if the rumors are right.”
“He came through South Salvan before, but that was years ago,” Shira said.
~
“So this is my land?” Pol said. “It’s beautiful.”
“Two days by three days of normal riding, not at Demeron’s speed. Kelso lives in your domain,” Shira said.
Pol nodded his head. “A modest Duchy, but I hear it is run by a very skilled regent.”
“Very skilled,” Shira said. “We are half-a-day away from your house. Let’s not delay. At least the rune book announced your survival and our arrival.”
“Nearly a rhyme?”
Shira smiled. “Nearly.
Pol liked the looks of the town they just passed. Hardrock looked prosperous and clean. The outskirts hadn’t turned into slums, and despite a war going on, everything looked normal until he noticed pikes stacked strategically along the main street.
“Has the war made it this far south?” Pol asked.
“No, but every able-bodied person drills with weapons if they are able. That’s how we’ve managed to fend off the Winnowers.”
“You told me that, but it is different being here and seeing everything in person.”
“There will be more to see,” Shira said.
Pol noticed that she sat straighter in the saddle and that people had recognized her as they traveled through Hardrock and through a few villages on their way to the Redearth manor.
“Onkar had a wonderful duchy,” Pol said. “Now it’s even more beautiful with you around.” He took Shira’s hand.
“Are you sure you got rid of the alien? You don’t sound like the Pol I know.”
“I’m not. I am the Duke of Redearth. Who’s Pol?” He grinned as they turned down the avenue of trees.
Pol looked over at Shira and saw the excitement in her eyes. She had ridden down between the trees often enough when she was regent, but now, he hoped, her ride held new meaning. It certainly did for him.
They reached the wall to a closed gate. Pol dismounted to open it, and then an eruption of cheers sounded on the other side as it drew open, and Pol could see the manor house not far away through a sea of uniformed figures.
Amonna clutched the hand of a tall, distinguished-looking officer, A Shinkyan Elder stood next to a General, and Fadden held Ako’s hand. Val looked out of place when Pol saw Darrol with Paki and Nirano, the Shinkyan who escorted Paki around Tishiko four years ago. He didn’t recognize another older man with a plump wife. Soldiers assembled into ranks. He did not see Karo anywhere.
The General stepped up to Pol. “We are glad you reached Redearth after a few difficulties along the way.”
“Difficulties are to be expected,” Pol said.
“I am General Axe. This is Elder Harona, a dear friend. Your sister, you know, but her friend is Captain Corior.”
Shira clapped her hands at that introduction.
“General, I know the rest, even Nirano.” Pol gave the Shinkyan Sister a bit of a bow. “I don’t know these two distinguished people. Pentor and his wife, Annet?”
“I am pleased to finally meet your acquaintance, My Duke,” Pentor said.
He looked as competent as his wife, Annet, looked silly.
“We will have some long talks later, Steward Pentor.”
“Pentor will do, My Duke.”
“You may call me Duke Pol. Right?”
Pentor beamed. “I would be pleased to do so, Duke Pol.”
Pol squeezed Shira’s hand for that tidbit of information.
“I suppose I should say a few words. As few words as possible,” Pol said. He tweaked his voice louder. “I am happy to arrive here at last. The Duchy was given to me by Queen Isa, but I am very, very pleased that it has been managed by very competent people, lived in by very, very good people, and defended by Shinkyan, Imperial, and Redearth citizens very, very successfully. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay with you this time. I have other duties to perform for the Empire, but I can leave knowing that Redearth is in the best of hands.” Pol raised his hand and waved as cheers and applause filled the air.
Shira squeezed his arm. “I’m very, very happy that we’ve arrived.”
“Yes. ‘We’ is the most important.” He looked at Val, who still looked the least comfortable. “Let us go into the house and see what the status is of the defenses and what you’ve discovered in the few days you’ve had here.”
Val nodded with a side of his mouth raised in an attempt to smile. “Let’s.”
It still took a bit of time before Pol walked into the manor’s war room. He examined the maps hung around the former ballroom.
“You ran the defenses from here?” he said to Shira.
“We did. With rune books, we can quickly get information on troop movements and battle results.”
“Not to mention adjusting the order of battle to meet the requir
ements on the ground,” Val said.
“You’re a tactician?” Shira said.
Val grimaced. “No, but I’m old enough to have done just about everything. What is a battle but the combination of many patterns? A commander directs his army more effectively if he can apply his forces where they are needed.”
Shira pulled out the blocks she used for the big table to map the area of Redearth that extended all the way to the border.
Pol tugged at his chin as he looked down and began to memorize the shape and feel of his land. His land, Onkar’s land, his people’s land. He had never felt personal responsibility hit him so hard before.
“You care about the people of Redearth?” he asked Shira. “I’ll need to gain a love for them like you have. This is a very good duchy and a place where we can be happy, but that is for the future, for we are all still in peril.”
She nodded. “It’s hard to be happy anywhere when so many are in danger.”
Shira had had to bear the responsibility for so many while Pol had only to worry about himself. Even in Zasos, where he had worked to cast off the gambling culture, he had operated mostly as an advisor and a Seeker. She had borne his burdens dealing with the Winnower onslaught and had done well, as far as Pol could tell.
“Do you understand the battlefield, Duke Pol?” Pentor said walking to his side.
“I will gain understanding. I see the maps, but I’ll need to examine the sites in person to get a true feel for the pattern. Have you heard of our rune books?”
“Val gave us a demonstration yesterday. I am impressed. We can use them for maintaining vigilance in the duchy. I am sure we can respond more quickly to emergencies, and that will save lives.”
Pol smiled. He sensed the Steward felt the same responsibility that Shira did, and he hoped he would, but for now, Pol was more concerned about field communications during Winnower incursions.
Paki walked into the room with Nirano, the Fearless Sister. He grinned and hugged Pol. “I wouldn’t do this in front of all the troops, but it’s great to see you.” Paki peered at his friend. “You’re even taller than me! Fadden and Val told me your story. You didn’t even have the memory to miss me.”
“I didn’t, but I’m glad you managed to carry on. I remember everything over the last four years, so even though I didn’t miss you, my time spent away was useful to me in its own way.”
Pol nodded to Nirano. “I see your relationship has maintained itself.” Pol hoped that Nirano had sniffed out Paki’s past experiences with women. He expected that she had.
“It blew out for a while,” Nirano said in better Eastrilian than Pol remembered. “But I came to replace others of our faction, and then Paki showed up.” She smiled, showing attractive dimples.
Shira cleared her throat and nodded towards the door as General Axe walked in with Darrol, Captain Corior, and Amonna. The room was still very large and accommodated them all.
“Duke Pol,” General Axe said, “I will brief you on the current situation.” He picked up a long thin wooden rod and used it as a pointer as he talked about troop placements on the large table map. The Winnowers still employed the same strategy they had been employing for four years. Feints and penetrations, but never a massed force.
“That will stop soon,” Pol said. “The troops we fought in Finster all had protective wards. Have you confronted many of those?” He grinned at Darrol, who returned his with another.
“No,” Axe said. “Our people wouldn’t fare well.”
“Val told you that the horses still crushed them. The wards don’t stop force if it’s large enough. Field catapults can halt some of them,” Pol said. “Magicians can remove the wards, but only from a few paces. We will have to come up with something else.” He scratched his head. A thought came and went while he talked. He couldn’t bring it back up. He couldn’t hope for inspiration from the alien essence’s memory, and Pol was fine with that.
Pol continued to listen to deployment strategies that didn’t sound much different from the ones Shira described to him. He absorbed the feel of the room and used his locator skills to map out the house. His home, he thought. Pol only hoped he could spend time here.
~~~
Chapter Fifteen
~
T hey ate an early dinner in the large dining room. Pentor invited those he thought Pol might like to attend.
Shira looked around the table. “I don’t think we’ve had so many people eat in this room before.”
“Not since Duke Onkar left to head the South Salvan army,” Pentor said.
Annet giggled a bit. “Do you know how the former Duke died?” she asked Pol.
“He was killed by a brave North Salvan soldier who sneaked into the South Salvan camp to save me,” Paki said.
“I thought no one could kill him,” Annet said. “He must have been one of King Colvin’s best.”
“No,” Pol said. “It was me. My other stepsister,” Pol nodded to Amonna, “had betrayed her father, the King, and was about to kill Paki, who was defenseless. I quickly took care of her and then Onkar was next. That put the camp into chaos so I could remove Paki and Kell, another friend.”
The table went silent. Annet turned red. “I’m sorry. I am, sometimes, too silly for my own good.”
Pol locked eyes with Pentor. “I didn’t do it to take over Duke Onkar’s duchy. Queen Isa insisted and awarded the lands to me while I was away in Daera.”
Pentor nodded solemnly at Pol.
Rubbing his hands and grinning to smooth the discomfort that he felt, Pol said, “What do you think of the Shinkyan herd, General?”
“With Monk Jonness conferring with Monk Edgebare at Tesna, I haven’t seen them drill. Perhaps Demeron can show us how disciplined they are.”
“They are here?”
“Outside the fort,” Captain Corior said. “I didn’t think Steward Pentor would want them eating the flowers within the manor walls, so they headed north. There is plenty of forage. Most of the idle farmland around Little Tishiko still grows wild crops.”
That little comment brightened the gathering again. Pol knew he was not much of a host, something he didn’t know if he could learn. He let the others carry the conversation, but he made a conscious effort to smile and continue things as best he could. Pol had been taught and drilled to be social, but as a child and young teenager who was expected to respond, but not initiate, conversation.
He hoped Shira and Pentor could help him through that. At Yastan, the Emperor and Handor would be the ones to maneuver a group through a topic.
The event finally ended. Pol said goodbye to everyone, leaving servants to clean up and Pentor and Annet to go over tomorrow’s duties.
“I need to go to Covial,” Pol said.
“That is not necessary unless you want to, My Duke. The Queen sent me her proclamation. Your papers of elevation are among them. I have kept them safe with Shira’s, proclaiming her regent.”
They talked the rest of the evening about the state of the duchy, not the state of war. Pol found it relaxing. He remembered much of the agricultural texts he had read years ago and enjoyed engaging Pentor in a conversation about the fertility of his lands.
Annet yawned.
“We can talk more tomorrow,” Pol said. “I think I’d like to retire as well.”
“I look forward to many discussions. I am very pleasantly surprised you are so familiar with the intricacies of running an estate.”
“Maybe not so intricate, but I will enjoy learning more.” Pol meant what he said. He felt more established, older, more serious somehow, and could see how such a thing had changed Landon, his brother, the King of Listya.
Shira walked up the stairs with him. “I never used the Duke’s rooms,” she said. “I’ll save that for a later time.” She leaned against him. “I’m so glad you are here.”
“I’m glad that I am here, too, and that you are with me. I wish I could say I dreamed of this day for four years, but I’m glad I didn’t know. It would
have made our separation worse for me. Was it terrible for you?”
She smiled and shook her head. “No. This is your land, your manor, your duchy. I immersed myself here to stay close. I felt that I was somehow with you when I worked to make Redearth better and stronger.”
He hugged her and kissed her forehead. “You succeeded. Show me what my rooms look like.” Pol disengaged and threw the double doors wide open to a sitting room. “I like this. Did Duke Onkar choose the furniture? I can nearly see him in here.”
“I hope you don’t!” Shira said rubbing her arms. She giggled. “I couldn’t believe Annet’s comment at dinner. She is a little thick from time to time.”
“Pentor puts up with her, so she can’t be too bad.”
“She means well enough, I guess.”
Pol sat down on a plush couch. “Well-made, but simple. I think Onkar’s taste and mine would have been compatible. The rest of the manor is the same?”
Shira nodded. “When the old manor house burnt down, he rebuilt this himself.”
“I like it better than a drafty castle,” Pol said. He rose and went into the bedroom. “You can come.”
“It’s not as if we haven’t seen more than what’s proper while we’ve been on the road together so many times,” Shira said. “The servants should have put your things away!”
Pol put out his hand. “It’s fine. I want to see what I managed to salvage of my travels. That bag,” he pointed to one of the saddlebags, “hasn’t been opened since we were in West Huffnya.”
“Prized possessions?”
“Useless possessions, although I think there is a Zasosian rune book inside,” Pol said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to have room to store all my belongings, as few of them as there are.”
Pol opened the neglected bag and dragged items on the bed. He showed Shira the Daeran carved horse that he brought all the way from Zasos. The cords of a black magician with Deftnis symbols on each end joined the horse in a growing pile of things. He pulled out the rune book and put his finger to light up a rune.
He grinned. “I remember what I was trying to remember in the ballroom.” He grabbed the lodestone at the bottom of his bag. “I need to perform some more experiments with this.”
