“Cail vai Keller, I would think.”
“So you’d let everything your father worked for die? And what if you were taken by Dragon Clan scouts, or killed by brigands for your armor? You’re an excellent fighter, Kiera. And an excellent leader. We need you on the battlefield.”
“And I will be, but with a few hundred Canians at my back.”
“I could make you stay.”
“Oh?”
“As Chair of the Guild, I could order you to stay.”
“You could seek approval from the Guild to order my father to order me to stay. I might not wait around for that, though.”
“I am a powerful Sorcerer in my own right, you know.”
Kiera nodded sagely.
“And I’m wearing a suit of armor made entirely from dragon jade.”
Heldi drew deeply from the pipe, the bowl glowing as she inhaled. When she took the pipe away, a great burst of smoke exited her nostrils, like the ash they said dragon’s breath contained.
“You don’t like me, do you, Kiera?”
“Does it matter?”
“It will if you’re Exarch and I’m Chair. Your father and Waldrin were excellent partners. I hope to continue the same relationship, with both him and you.”
“I understand the duty of the Exarch. If the Five Noble Families elect me, I will serve without complaint.”
Heldi sighed and didn’t speak for a moment.
“How’s Pol?”
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
“We took his name the other day. Sometimes people break down. It is the end of a life, in many ways. He took it in stride. I wondered if he talked about it with someone.”
“Are you asking if he talked about losing his name with me?”
“Yes.”
“We talked.”
“Good.”
“Why do you care?”
“Because I care. Why do you hate me?”
Now it was Kiera’s turn to sit in silence for a moment. After a moment, she stood up.
“I hate you, Mistress Heldi, because you’re a cold, ruthless, ambitious bitch.”
Heldi merely smiled at her.
“That’s a very hard thing to say to another person. I thank you for your courage and frankness. You may go.”
“Thank you, Mistress Heldi.”
As Kiera reached the door back out to the gate, Heldi spoke again.
“Pol and I will see you on the road to Tia Joi.”
Kiera paused, a million words bubbling to her lips, all desperate to be given voice, and desperately in need for Heldi to hear exactly what Kiera thought of that comment. But she managed to hold her tongue, and even managed to keep from closing the door roughly behind her.
Outside, the night air had started to chill, but Kiera barely felt it.
Book Three: A Sorcerer For The Clans
Chapter 16
Where in Vash’s name was Kiera?
It’d never have occurred to Pol that she’d run away before a big battle. Her father was here, and he could barely walk. Consequently, Elina vai Tischer had been given tactical command of the Vashili army, with Ked serving largely as a strategic advisor. It was difficult to imagine the woman whom he’d had a rendezvous in a fountain with as the supreme commander of the combined might of the Vashili and Coulanian armies, but there they were. Apparently, after Ked, Elina was the best strategic thinker in Tia Vashil. Lord Islan vai Auin had been given command of the left flank, the Lord-General Yun Halvyn had been given the right, with Lord Cail vai Keller holding the center. Tau had been given command of the van with his conscripts, with Marga and Ragar vai Banda holding the Vashili elite in reserve in the rear.
And, of course, the Sorcerers would be everywhere. Heldi, Tudron, Garen, Bollu, Margase, even Waldrin had come, limping though he might have been. Margase had told him that no one ever wore their ceremonial chains, but the hundred Sorcerers who’d marched out of the Guild had all been wearing theirs. Pol fumbled with his. It was much too heavy for his liking. Heldi had made him her aide-de-camp, for some reason.
“My grandfather led the armies of the Metropolitan Alliance of ‘24 at Brokeneck Field,” Lord-General Halvyn was saying. “He said the battle hinged on his charge against Mohamar the Fallenheart, that when the Clans saw his knights charging them down, they broke and ran and they were able to slaughter them in the fens.”
“Your grandfather had the knights of Tia Joi with him?” asked Elina.
“Of course.”
“And the Guild had how many sorcerers for that battle?” Elina cocked an eye at Heldi.
“I recall we were at least four hundred,” said Heldi.
“So, with four times as many sorcerers at his disposal, and the full complement of Joian heavy cavalry, your grandfather drove a battle-weary force of Dragon Clan troops back into a marshy field, is that what you’re telling me?”
“Well, yes.”
“And you, Lord-General Halvyn, believe that duplicating that stratagem—albeit with the knights of Tia Joi, quite frankly, all dead somewhere to the northwest of here, and the Guild greatly depleted—should be our opening move against fresh Clan warriors who can retreat into the city of Tia Joi, which, it should be noted, has fallen exactly once in its history, to those same Clan warriors?”
“I... um...”
“I think what Lady Elina is trying to say, Lord-General,” said Ked, sitting quietly in a chair at the far end of the table, his cane resting in the crook of his arm. “Is that, while a defensive posture may lack the sort of glory that songs are made of, it will suit our purposes much better in this case.”
“We can take positions along this ridge here,” said Elina. “That’ll put us out of range of the walls, so they’ll have to come out to fight. If they don’t, a detachment of Sorcerers will head north to divert the River Joi from its bed.”
“No clan chief can refuse a challenge to fight and expect to keep their circlet,” rumbled Errah, making Pol jump. Aren had left the big warrior as an advisor, and while a naked tattooed giant seemed an unlikely person to be able to skulk around, his silence often caused Pol to forget he existed.
“Perhaps, but we will not be much of a challenge as long as the Clans stay behind the walls,” said Elina.
Errah shrugged. “I would not waste time devising tricks and prods to drive her out. I would simply attack them at the conclusion of the Champions’ Combat. It would be dishonorable, but I am sure she is planning to do the same.”
“The what combat?” asked Elina.
“The duel between the two champions of each army. Surely, you must know.” He turned to Fione. “When we fought your knights, your champion was some greyhair in flower armor. He fought poorly. Varomar cut his head off with a single blow.”
“Lord Okkian vai Farrow,” said Fione. “So that’s how he died. He was no champion fighter, though.”
“He rode out before the battle as a champion would. Varomar met him between the armies.”
“He was probably trying to discuss terms. He was probably trying to get you to leave without fighting!” Fione shouted at him.
“What use is talk before a battle?” asked Errah.
“Generally, in the East, we talk before to try and avoid bloodshed,” said Elina.
“Did you say ‘vai Farrow?’” asked Lord-General Halvyn.
“Yes. Lord Okkian served as marshal of our armies,” said the princess.
“Ha-hrm,” said Halvyn. He summoned an aide-de-camp to his side, and whispered something into the man’s ear. The aide ran out of the tent.
“Errah,” said Elina. “When can we expect your chief to launch her surprise attack?”
Errah shrugged.
“My chief keeps her own counsel on this. Olene will commit the weaker clans first, the River and Forest. The Sky is the strongest clan, it will probably hold the center, with the Sea and Earth to its flanks. My chief will engage long enough to convince Olene the battle is going well. I would put a force strong enoug
h to hold the weak clans there, but not much stronger than that. The Sea will drive the rest of the Clans from the field when we turn.”
“Dangerous,” clicked Elina staring at the map. She shifted a few colored blocks, meant to represent various forces. “If the Forest or…”
“River.”
“...River manages a breakthrough, the Sea will have to tip their hand to bail out our flank. And I can’t risk the other flank’s strength. Which side will the Sea be on?”
Errah shook his head.
“Only Varomar could tell you that.”
Elina studied the map. She looked at Heldi.
“You’ve walked the field?” she asked.
“Somewhat. An earth scry.”
“Which side can I get away with?”
“Here,” said Heldi, pointing to the south of the field, the army’s right. “This run of hills brings us closer to the river. Together, the water and earth will make our job easier. We can supplement weakness on that side.”
“Right,” nodded Elina. “The right will be our weak point. We’ll have to hope that’s where the Sea is. Lord Halvyn, you will transfer two brigades to Lord Cail’s command.”
There was a commotion outside the tent, and the flaps pulled aside, letting daylight pour in. Everyone glanced up.
Kiera marched forward, her helmet tucked under her arm. Behind her came the petite Vel and the massive Largan, the Canian Alphas each wearing a wolf-skin over their shoulders but little else.
“Didn’t bother waiting for me?” asked Kiera.
“Lady Kiera,” said Elina. A smile crossed her face for a moment. “Glad you could join us. Who are you friends?”
“Dogs,” said Errah. He spat into the dirt at Vel’s feet. “Animals wearing men’s skin.”
“Oh, look, a talking lizard,” murmured Vel. Largan laughed. Errah’s hand reached for the handle of the axe hanging from his belt.
“Draw that thing in here and I’ll have you gutted and flayed so fast you’ll think you were a pig,” said Kiera.
Errah paused, considering the room. His hands fell back to his sides. He turned to Elina.
“These dogmen kidnap and eat Dragon Clan children,” he said. “They are thieves and brigands.”
“I’m inclined to agree with the last,” said Ked, from his chair. “But do you have anything to prove their cannibalism?”
“Yes, I’m interested to hear this,” said Vel. “Largan and I have been itching to try roasted Clan child, do tell which of our sister packs eats your children so we can ask them for recipes.”
“There, they admit it,” said Errah.
“That was a joke,” said Elina. “Where’s your proof?”
“Everyone knows,” said Errah. He waved a hand, as if shooing off the mere idea of it.
“That’s true,” said Pol from his chair toward the back of the tent. “My mother always said everyone knew Canians like to gobble up bad little boys who didn’t finish their dinners. I never saw it while I was in their camp, of course, but then again I finish my dinners more often now.”
There was a rumble of laughter through the tent at this. Largan grinned openly, while Vel and Kiera held their imperious expressions, although there was a faint glittering behind their eyes of amusement. Only Errah didn’t seem impressed.
“No true born member of the Clans would fight side by side with the Canians,” said Errah. “Cannibals or not.”
Elina frowned.
“We can’t have allies that compromise our plan,” she said. “Would they turn the Sea Clan back to Olene?”
“I cannot say,” said Errah. “My chief will honor her pledge to her princess, but few are as honorable as her. The mere sight of these dogs heats my people’s blood.”
“That makes two of us,” said Vel.
“The Clans hate the Canians?” asked Kiera.
“Have you heard what Errah has been saying?” asked Cail vai Keller.
“How much, Errah? You put your hand on your axe when we entered. Would you have drawn it if no one had stopped you?”
“I would have killed these curs where they stand,” said Errah.
“You could’ve tried,” said Largan.
“And all your people feel the same?” pressed Kiera.
“Yes. Or as close to all as would make no difference.”
Kiera nodded, then approached the table, looking over the battle plan arrayed so far.
“You’ve figured a way to draw her out?”
“Errah says she’ll come anyhow, too afraid to put off a fight. And apparently we have to choose a champion to fight hers, which is how the clan starts their battles,” said Elina.
“What if we refuse?”
“Then Olene could refuse battle without losing face,” said Errah. “Do her a dishonor, and she won’t be bound to use honorable tactics against you. Fighting after the Champions’ Combat is a tradition. Technically, the loser in the combat should surrender, but Clans have fought to regain their position rather than doing that for centuries.”
“She outnumbers us,” said Kiera. “She has an extra man for every two of ours. She still won’t have to attack.”
“She lacks Sorcerers,” said Heldi. “We can make a difference.”
“And we lack jade,” said Kiera. “Your magic won’t have much effect until the enemy’s jewelry becomes worn out. Meanwhile, their Sorcerer will be attacking us and they’ll have more archers to bear on our men.”
“You have a plan, Kiera,” said Ked. It was half a question, and half an observation.
“Who’s in charge of the van?” she asked.
“I am,” said Tau. He looked up at Kiera and she nodded at him.
“Put the Canians in your front ranks, but hide them from sight while I’m fighting their champion. When the battle commences, you can use the Canians as a harasser force to goad the Clan into attacking. Does that suit you, Vel?”
“We get to kill the Clans first?”
“Probably, yes. Close enough to first, anyhow. After me.”
“That suits.”
“Kiera, who says you’re fighting as our champion?” asked Ked.
“Who else is there?”
“Tau is a talented swordsman.”
“I’d prefer not to have my nephew killed in a pointless combat before the battle even starts,” said Lord Cail.
“What happens if we lose the fight, Errah?” asked Elina.
“You’ll be expected to surrender. If you don’t, Varomar’s victory will be seen as a sign from Vash that you are unworthy and that the Mother Dragon blesses her Clans. Olene’s warriors will take heart.”
“And if we win?”
“My people will believe that Vash has turned against them.”
“Will they surrender?”
“After the fighting’s done. They’ll want a chance to spit in the Sky Dragon’s eye before they die. But their spirit will have been stolen from them.”
“So, we’re fighting for a victory in spirit only. I don’t think it’s worth bothering,” said Elina.
“It will be if it keeps them outside the city gates,” said Tau.
“And I want to fight Varomar, again,” said Kiera.
“You’re not here to settle scores, Lady Kiera,” said Tudron. “Our goal is to liberate the city. Personal vendettas are beside the point.”
“You won’t seek to kill Jorga?” asked Kiera.
Tudron glanced at Heldi, who nodded.
“No,” he answered. “If we get the chance, we won’t shy away from it, but our first priority is to secure Tia Joi and drive the Clans out of the East. Jorga’s plan ends here, whether he lives or dies. We break the Clans and bring the Sea Clan into our fold tomorrow, they’ll be broken forever.”
“That’s fine, but I’m going to kill Varomar.”
“He nearly killed you, last time,” said Tau. “And me.”
“That was on his turf. Tomorrow I’ll be wearing my armor, carrying my favorite sword, fighting on open ground. He won’t
have a chance.”
“Kiera…”
“Is anyone better than me? No, I’m sorry, I’m not asking this out of ego. Does anyone think they stand a better chance in single combat against the Clans’ best warrior than me?”
There was quite a bit of silence in the room.
“Well, I’ll say it,” said Pol, into the void.
Every head swiveled to look at him, the incredulity palpable.
“No, not really, honestly. You’re our best shot.”
“I’m better mounted,” said Tau.
“The Clans fight on foot,” said Errah.
“Yeah, then that’s Kiera,” said Tau.
“Then it’s settled,” said Kiera. “Any other pressing matters?”
A man entered the tent, and Lord Halvyn rose.
“Your highness,” he said, speaking to Fione. “May I present Sir Vallan vai Farrow?”
Kiera spun on her heel and Pol tried to sink into the earth, but he was quite a bit taller than Heldi, who was the only person between him and the knight.
Sir Vallan was much the worse for wear. Unarmored, his right sleeve was buttoned up just below the elbow. He looked considerably more haggard than he had on his fine white stallion in Lowvale. A scraggly beard hung off his chin. At the sight of Princess Fione, he sank to one knee with an unsteady sort of grace.
“We found Sir Vallan on the road here, convalescing from a wound he’d suffered from a warlock in Lowvale. When he heard of the plight of his homeland, he insisted on joining us, even in his condition,” explain Halvyn.
Fione approached the kneeling Sir Vallan, touching his shoulder softly. He looked up into her eyes, and she extended her hand, letting him take it, pressing his lips to her knuckles before she pulled him to his feet.
“It is good to see you again, Sir Vallan.”
“The same, your highness. Is... is my father with you?”
“I’m sorry, Sir Vallan. Your father was killed when the army was defeated.”
It was hard to imagine Sir Vallan falling even further into despair, and yet the last bit of hope seemed to leach out of him.
Dragon Jade Chronicle: The Warlock And The Warrior Page 42
