by Tim Stead
Ella looked upset, and Tarlyn knew well the source of Corban’s horror.
“I am sorry,” he said to them. “I am truly sorry.”
48 Terms
“Did I hear you right, Captain Portina?”
“I spoke clearly enough, General, so I think you heard well enough.”
Darius looked round at his circle of officers. Not all were here, but enough would have heard the name. So Borbonil was not gone. Serhan had been mistaken when he thought the Faer Karan eliminated.
All certainty now evaporated. What had been a secure position and a job well done was suddenly weakness and approaching disaster. There was no way that he could fight a Faer Karani, not even one. He would have bet on the White Rock guard to hold their positions against Ocean’s Gate, even outnumbered nearly two to one, but there was no defence against magic.
But I still have one card to play. Serhan.
“I will come with you,” he said to Portina.
A horse was brought and he mounted it.
“Hold here until I return,” he said to his men. It was all he could think of to say to them. “If I should not be back and some need arises, I give the necessary authority to Captain Horlor.”
The men saluted, a sombre gesture.
They do not think I am coming back.
He rode out of the gate beside Portina, the two other Ocean’s Gate men following them. It was a not a long ride across the plain, but about half way there Portina glanced back at his own men and rode a little closer to Darius.
“You have nothing to fear, General,” he said in a low voice. “They will not harm you or your men. I can guarantee it.”
Darius looked across at Portina, and to his surprise he saw that the captain was smiling. It was barely a smile, a secret, suppressed thing, but there was no doubt.
“How can you know this?” he asked.
“I have seen what I have seen, and heard what I have heard. I think you will enjoy this audience.”
They spoke no more, and in a short time they came to the lines of Ocean’s Gate men, which parted in an orderly way to let them through, and closed behind them. Within the walls of men there was a space of two acres, Darius judged. One tent had been pitched at the centre, and it was to this that they rode. Men took the horses as they dismounted and they stood for a moment.
“Enter,” Portina said. “It is you that they wish to see.”
He stepped through the opening. For a moment he was confused. There were two men sitting inside the tent on relatively plain seats, but it was the dim light that made his eyes lie. Then he saw their faces.
They were in the shape of men.
“Darius Grand,” one of the figures said. “We are pleased that it is you.”
The voice was not in the least disguised.
Darius did not bow. He did not follow any of the protocols.
“Lord Borbonil,” he said. “I did not expect to see you again.”
The Faer Karani did not behave as though he had been insulted. His tone was conversational, even warm.
“Will you have a seat?”
“Certainly.”
A man came in with a seat and placed it opposite the others. Darius sat.
“We have always recognised you as a man of considerable ability, and a man of honour, Darius Grand.”
“Unlike yourselves.”
“You should not be hostile, General Grand. It is true that we employed methods that were unfair, and outside the rules that we ourselves had laid down, but we did it for the best of reasons.”
“To kill me?”
“Not you especially. It is true that you were a great asset to our enemy, and your loss would have benefited us, but we sought to kill the one called Serhan. His abilities are of a different order to your own, and we thought him dangerous, even to our entire race. Events have proven us to be correct.”
“You did not join with Gerique.” It had come to him suddenly. These two were Gerique’s enemies, and in that vital moment when Gerique had summoned the strength of the Faer Karan to fight Serhan’s spell they had stayed apart.
“You are perceptive. We believed that he would fail. We did not wish to fall with him.”
“But now you have a problem,” Darius went on. “A problem called Serhan. You are the only two left?”
“There may be a third, but it is not certain. It does not matter.”
“He will do to you what he did to Gerique.”
“It is that which we wish to avoid.”
“And you think that I will help you?”
“We ask it.”
“I will not do it.”
“We ask very little, only that you carry a message.”
“I will be blunt. The Faer Karan are hated. You are hated. Not a man in the world would lift a finger to save you, least of all myself.”
“The alternative is worse.”
“What?”
“We will attack your camp. When that is destroyed we will attack Samara. We will kill everyone, and when we have finished we will move on to Darna, then Pek, then Sarata. At some point Serhan will stop us, but it will not be today, and it will not be in Samara.”
“You would do this out of spite?”
“We will make the taste of his victory bitter.”
Darius was horrified. It was true that Serhan did not look this way all the time. These two could probably kill tens of thousands before he caught up to them.
“And if I carry your message?”
“The troops that we have brought with us are yours to command. Our message is a simple one. We wish to offer our surrender to your lord, and our service to whatever cause he sees fit, but in return we wish to remain in this world, to hold Ocean’s Gate, and to be allowed our titles and privileges.”
“Your argument is compelling, but why do you not carry the message yourselves?”
“He trusts you. We would be attacked as soon as we showed ourselves, anyone else we sent would not be trusted.”
“So if I carry this message to Serhan you will give me your troops and wait for judgement? I cannot guarantee my lord’s answer.”
“Just as you say. If the message is carried in good faith.”
“And how do I know that this is not a trick, a way to defeat Serhan?”
“He will choose the time, place and conditions of our meeting. He will be prepared. We cannot give him greater advantage.”
Darius looked at them, and he realised that they were afraid. The mighty Faer Karan were negotiating for their existence. Portina had been right. He was enjoying this.
“Today I believe that you are honest monsters,” he said. “I will carry your message on one additional condition.”
“Which is?”
“That you do not move from here and show yourselves to nobody until my lord has had time to instruct you.”
“It is acceptable, but we would prefer to wait at Ocean’s Gate. We will take a hundred men with us when we go, and the rest will remain with you.”
That might be better. They would be well out of the way, and difficult to stumble across, and a long way from other people.
“You may travel to Ocean’s Gate.”
“But first the message.”
“Now?”
“Yes. There is no reason for delay. We will transport you to White Rock, and you may deliver it at once.”
Darius felt uncertain again. He was worried about leaving his troops, even though Horlor seemed a competent officer. He would have to get Serhan to send him back almost at once. It felt rushed, though. He would have liked to have had more time to think about it. Even so, there was little more that he could have got out of the situation. An extra six hundred men was more than a useful advantage, and carrying the message would give vital intelligence to Serhan.
“Very well,” he said. “I will go now.”
He could see that they were pleased. Borbonil in particular. The Faer Karani went through the motions and incantations that created a black door and it ap
peared within the tent.
“You understand now,” he said to Darius. “We surrender. We ask to be of service. We will meet with him at a place and time of his choosing, and we will wait at Ocean’s Gate until we hear from him.”
“One more thing,” Darius needed to allay one more fear. “The troops that you leave behind here; they must be commanded by Captain Portina.”
“As you wish, General. We agree. Now go.”
He stepped through the door, and felt the momentary coldness that was so familiar and still so discomfiting.
And he was in the courtyard of White Rock. Fifty swords pointed at him. He heard the impatient creak of bow strings drawn tight, ready to release, and in the eyes all around him he saw apprehension, fear, confusion.
He stood very still.
“Darius?”
He turned slowly, and saw Serhan walk towards him. The black sword was in his hand, drawn and ready to cut.
“My lord,” he said.
At a gesture the swords and bows were lowered. The people still stared.
“What are you doing here, Darius? And this?” he gestured at the black door, which promptly disappeared.
“It is a story that I am happy to tell you, my lord, and I carry a message, but perhaps in a more private place?”
Serhan nodded.
“Follow me,” he said.
Darius followed.
49 One of Us
Captain Horlor was clearly an officer of exceptional ability.
Darius had been away for a day and a half, and the changes were quite apparent. The Faer Karan had gone, and nothing now remained of the place where they had marshalled their troops. All six hundred of the Ocean’s Gate men were camped with his own, and all seemed to be going smoothly.
“There is a meeting set for tomorrow, General,” Horlor said as the last of the men that had come with Darius from White Rock passed through the gate of what was now a very substantial fortification.
“With whom?”
“Everyone, sir. Things have moved quickly. The King has agreed to come. Hagar Del will be here, but has asked for an escort from the city. I have agreed. Some of the others from Gulltown as well. Also there will be a delegation of traders; apparently they have their own troops, so we have included them.”
“I am impressed. You’ve done well. No problems with the Ocean’s Gate men?”
“No, sir. Captain Portina is a good officer. Apparently he is known and well liked in the city, so it was a good choice.”
“I trust him, Captain. We met once before. Preparations for the meeting?”
“We have erected a tent that should be large enough, and we have built a table. It doesn’t look very grand, but should be big enough so that all can be seated at it.”
“I would like to see it.”
They walked towards the great tent.
“Will the Lord Serhan attend, General?” Horlor asked. “I have been perhaps rash in assuring some that he will be there.”
“He will be there, Captain. He watches us even now.”
Horlor looked slightly sceptical, but nodded.
“Including yourself and the lord Serhan there will be twenty people. I do not know how anyone will make themselves heard in such a crowd.”
“It will be difficult, but it is more important that they come prepared to listen.”
“Listen?”
“Yes, Captain. I think the Lord Serhan grows impatient.” So it had seemed to Darius back at White Rock. There was an edge to Serhan’s voice that had not been there when he had left for Samara, and at one point he had turned to him and said ‘perhaps they need to be ruled, like dogs they need a master to tell them when to sit and when to run, a stick to beat them and a firm hand to pat them when they behave.’
“But what can he do?” Horlor asked.
Darius sighed.
“I do not know,” he said. “But I do not think that I want to find out.”
* * * *
Ella found her father in his study, talking to Corban. Her brother looked happier than he had for days, but there was clearly some sort of argument going on. Tarlyn Saine was waving a piece of paper in his hand.
“I still think it would be unwise to be part of this,” he said.
“You cannot deny that the situation has changed, father,” Corban insisted.
“It has. Things look better, I will admit, but Sarata still has the advantage in numbers.”
“And White Rock has the better position. With thirteen hundred men they should be able to hold.”
“What is happening, father?”
They both turned to look at her.
“White Rock has been massively reinforced, Ella. They will still be surprised, but have the position and numbers to make a fight of it.”
“So you are no longer certain who will win, father?” she asked.
“I am not, but then there is this,” he held up the piece of paper.
“What is that?”
“The Lord Serhan,” he said. “He invites us to a meeting of the powers at war within Samara, to seek a peaceful settlement.”
“That is wonderful,” Ella was delighted.
“We will not attend,” Tarlyn said.
“We must!” Corban.
“Why not?” Ella was now surprised.
“They have scheduled it for the day on which we expect Sarata to arrive. We will be caught out on the plain with them. We could all be killed, and worse than that we will seem to be part of White Rock.”
“Why do you think they will attack White Rock first, father?” Ella asked. “The city will be without its leaders, and only a few hundred of the King’s soldiers to stand in their way. If I were the King of Sarata I would take the city and then dare White Rock to take it back. I think we would be safer out of the city.”
Tarlyn stared at her.
“She has a point, father,” Corban said.
“And this house cannot be defended,” Ella added.
“You think to manoeuvre me,” Tarlyn said.
“Find fault with our argument,” Ella challenged.
“The camp may be attacked first.”
“They are here to conquer Samara, not pick a fight with White Rock.”
“The better strategy is to build a defensive position between the camp and the city, then attack the city. White Rock will have to leave their positions to stop you, then you will have the numerical advantage, and the ground is neutral. If the numbers are as we have been told, Sarata will have enough men to both take the city and defend against White Rock at the same time.” Ella was satisfied she had clinched it.
“And if you are right we will be shut out from the city.”
“Better that than dead,” Corban said. “If Ella is right, and Serhan can turn the tide himself, then we will be camped with the victors.”
“It is unlikely. All these tales of Serhan are unlikely fare.”
“But father, it was you who taught us not to pay attention to one tale, but that many tales pointing to the same thing are as good as a truth. They tell us that Serhan and Grand have never been defeated, even when outnumbered.”
“You are determined, then?” Tarlyn said.
“We are.”
“As you wish. Your arguments are sound. We will go to this meeting. I will order the militia to abandon the house if it is attacked. They cannot hold it, and I would not have them die in a futile attempt to defend mere things.”
They left their father, having won the argument, and walked together, brother and sister, down to the courtyard.
“So where did you learn so much of military strategy, sister?”
“Books,” she replied. “And will Calaine be at the meeting?”
Corban smiled.
“Are we all so transparent to you, little one? Yes, she will be there.”
So they would all be there, and they would meet Serhan. Not for the first time, perhaps, but this time they would know who he really was.
* * * *
; Borbonil, lord of Ocean’s Gate and one time power among the Faer Karan council of six sat in a chair and looked out over the sea.
All there is now is waiting.
It was a dangerous game, throwing themselves on Serhan’s mercy. He may simply dispatch them as he had Dragan, Gerique and the rest. It was hard to believe. All that power and wisdom defeated by a single man.
Although he himself had warned against it he had never really thought such a thing would come to pass. Men were sometimes clever, it was true, and Gerique had been arrogant beyond understanding, but for a man to do such a thing. Gerique, after all, was Faer Karan, and the cleverest of them.
In the end he had believed more in his cause than the actual event. He had risked much to kill the man, and had failed completely, been handed another defeat, and been thoroughly humiliated.
He had thought long and hard about a last attempt. As Darius Grand had pointed out, if he were to defeat Serhan, then the world would be his. The risk, however, was great. He was neither as strong as Dragan, nor as clever as Gerique, and they were both gone. In the end his ambition was not as great as his love for the life here. This was the perfect world for a Faer Karani. In other places they had power, but not like here. Here they were almost invincible. Almost.
And the place was beautiful. Other worlds had forests, seas and cliffs, plains, great rivers, slow, cold glaciers and bright hot sunshine, but here there were so few people that the world had been allowed to remain itself. Most of it had not been mined, built on, ploughed up.
He very much wanted to stay here.
A movement in the air made him turn from the window, and he found a black sword point no more than half a foot from his chest. He followed the point back to the steady hand, and the unsmiling face.
“My Lord Serhan.”
“My Lord Borbonil. You wished to speak with me?”
The sword point did not move. A single thrust and he would be gone. He chose his words carefully.
“You have become most stealthy, my lord. I did not expect you.”
“I chose not to warn you of my coming. You will understand why.”
“I assure you that I have no desire to harm you. I wish only to offer my service.”
