by Cas Peace
She paused, capturing their attention. The Hierarch knew what was coming but was caught up in her compelling gaze. Even Robin, who had seen her dominate a room like this before, sat in awe.
She stepped back from the table, drawing their eyes.
“Instead, he will challenge his Majesty to single combat.”
Chapter Sixteen
This time they all rose to their feet with angry shouts. Anjer’s black eyes were blazing. Sullyan remained still while the wave of their ire washed over her.
Unable to gain silence by raising his voice, the Hierarch gestured at Gaslek. The fussy little man seemed stunned by the noise and Pharikian had to dig him in the ribs to gain his attention. Startled back to awareness, the Baron slapped the table with his hand. Silence fell, and they all sat slowly, the atmosphere charged with indignation. Four pairs of eyes glowered at Sullyan.
Eventually mastering his temper, Lord General Anjer spoke, his tone once more patronizing.
“Major Sullyan, what you’ve suggested is impossible and shows your ignorance of our customs. The Codes preclude anyone from challenging the Supreme Ruler to single combat. Rykan knows this, so the whole idea is ludicrous.”
She regarded him steadily. “You are correct, of course, Lord General. His Majesty is not personally bound to accept a challenge of single combat. But if you consult your ancient records and Codes, I believe you will find that if a formal challenger gains a controlling position and challenges the Supreme Ruler upon a field of combat, then the Crown is obliged to appoint a Champion to fight on its behalf.”
Anjer stilled. He stared at her and then the Hierarch, who sat contemplating the table over steepled fingers.
“Is this correct, Majesty?”
The Hierarch glanced up as if only now registering the debate.
“Oh yes, Anjer. The Major mentioned it to me earlier and I had Gaslek check it. It goes right back to our oldest records. I was aware of it before, but it has never been used to my knowledge, so it had slipped my mind.”
Kryp’s face was purple with anger. “Then how does she come to know of it?”
Sullyan regarded him with hooded eyes. “It pleased Rykan to taunt me with it, General. I thought it worthy of verification.”
Kryp subsided, still muttering. While he had been venting spleen, however, Anjer had been thinking. “If such a thing were to happen, Majesty, who would you appoint as your Champion?”
The Hierarch turned his yellow gaze on Anjer. Massive and muscular though he was, the man was in his mid-forties and past the flush of his prime. As the Hierarch’s deputy on the field and overall commander of his forces, Anjer was the obvious choice. Before he could speak to accept or refuse, Sullyan raised her voice.
“Majesty, gentlemen, a word of caution, if I may. Be aware that whoever is chosen must be a match for Lord Rykan on more than a physical level.”
Anjer swung round on her. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, Lord General, that if the Duke of Kymer gains a controlling position, then the method of combat is his choice by right. But the choice is not made until the Champion is declared, and it is by no means guaranteed that Rykan would choose the sword. Even if he did, his ambition is so great that I would not place any faith in him standing by that choice, Witnessed or not. None of his faction would dare protest if he broke the Codes, and if he emerged victorious, then no one on his Majesty’s side would live to tell the tale.
“So, my Lords, the question should be who among you is a match for his metaphysical prowess?”
That silenced them. From her earlier interview with the Hierarch, Sullyan was aware that Anjer, the most powerful of Pharikian’s generals, was a Master Artesan. The other two were a rank lower at Adept-elite, and Vanyr was only a Journeyman. She watched the play of emotion across their faces as they considered her words. She was sure of Anjer and Ephan now. However reluctantly, both recognized and accepted her rank and experience. Kryp was entirely prejudiced but would ultimately follow the Lord General’s orders. Vanyr was the only one who might obstruct her if he felt he could do so without incurring his superiors’ wrath. He would bear watching.
She waited them out, as did Pharikian. They had discussed some of this prior to the meeting, and he had given her some idea as to how each was likely to react. Still, she wondered how they would take the next phase of the plan. Not even Pharikian would bet against Rykan somehow utilizing his superior metaphysical powers to win a sword fight. The Champion had to be someone who could match Rykan’s powerful Artesan skills.
As Pharikian had predicted, Anjer reacted first.
“So, Major, what would you suggest?” His voice lacked any trace of its former condescension.
“As you do not have the numbers to defeat Lord Rykan outright, you must employ some subtlety, my Lord. He has no idea of my whereabouts and is unaware that I survived his brutality. Indeed, I was fortunate to do so. He will be expecting what you first proposed, that you will be confident of your security and will retreat into the Citadel. You must allow him to believe that this is the case while preventing him from consolidating his position and besieging the Caer. You should not, under any circumstances, reveal your knowledge of his true strength.
“He will wish to conceal his numbers until he is ready to surround you, so he has no option but to approach through the forests. You can use this to your advantage. Send out small mounted units to harry and scatter his forces. Isolate pockets of his men. Many of his troops are recent acquisitions. Given the chance, their leaders might even slip back to their own lands, hoping Rykan will suffer defeat. Considering the size of his forces and the absence of his Majesty’s reserves, it is highly unlikely that you can beat the Duke in open battle. Not without severely depleting the Hierarch’s resources, which would leave him vulnerable to anyone with similar aspirations. So, if you are to avoid such a bloodbath and adhere to the Codes, yet still remove the Duke’s threat to both Andaryon and Albia alike, you must hold Rykan to a stalemate, force him to retract. This will put his Majesty in the controlling position. He can then issue his own challenge to single combat.”
This statement brought another flurry of angry objections. Content to go along with the first part of her plan, Anjer now grew irate.
“You’re not making any sense, Major! You know very well that his Majesty cannot involve himself in single combat. You said as much yourself. And in order to make a challenge of his own, he must still appoint a Champion who can stand against the Duke. As you also pointed out, we have no one suitable. You’re talking in circles, girl!”
He turned his face away and the others added their agreement, Kryp being loudest in support.
Softly, Sullyan said, “Lord General?”
He turned back, a retort on his lips. When he saw her slight smile, he frowned.
“With the greatest respect, my Lord, you have missed the point. If Rykan makes the challenge, he has the right not only to choose the method of combat, but he also has a measure of veto over his opponent. Yet if his Majesty holds the controlling position, then the Duke would be forced to accept the Crown’s choice.”
“So?” Anjer threw his hands in the air. “What use is that if there’s no one qualified to face him?”
“Ah, but there is.”
His black eyes narrowed, then suddenly widened. Sullyan swept the assembled men with her gaze.
“My Lords, my skill with the sword is sufficient to match Lord Rykan in a duel, as are my metaphysical powers. I will be his Majesty’s Champion.”
The stunned silence was profound. They stared at her while she stood at ease, her hands clasped behind her back. She could sense Robin’s amazement and realized that even he hadn’t seen this coming. To cover his lack of intuition, he was studying the generals’ faces. In order to gauge their reactions, she did the same.
Despite his obvious opposition to the very thought of it, Anjer was going over the plan for flaws. He leaned back in his chair, arms on the table, one hand tapping absently on the
wood. There was more speculation and respect in his eyes than anyone else’s.
General Ephan was also chewing over what he had heard, no doubt recalling what he knew of her reputation. His eyes remained unfocused, but his expression held no censure. He sat forward in his chair, elbows on the arms, hands clasped beneath his chin.
Opposite Ephan, General Kryp stared at Sullyan with open hostility. His paunch heaved with every indignant breath and she waited for his outburst. Commander Vanyr’s face was stony and sullen, but it seemed he was willing to let Kryp do his objecting for him.
After a few more moments of silence, the Hierarch stirred, collecting their attention.
“Anjer?”
The Lord General straightened. “Majesty, I will not ask if the Major’s offer is acceptable to you. The fact that she bears your colors answers that. And she is right, we have no one qualified to face the Duke in combat. Only one of us here has first-hand experience of his skill, and I doubt that man would want to repeat it.”
He paused, and the Hierarch inclined his head. Sullyan would have given much to know who Anjer was referring to. None of them gave it away, though, and despite his impersonal phrasing, she strongly suspected it was Anjer himself, or maybe the Hierarch.
“All I ask is this. Do you have any proof—beside the word of her King and General, who might be biased—that her combat skills are as great as she claims? Leaving aside what Ephan has heard, she is still a woman, and Rykan is reputedly the best swordsman in our realm.”
“Well said, Anjer,” snapped Kryp. “The very idea’s preposterous.”
Anjer’s eyes betrayed annoyance at Kryp’s derisory tone. He ignored the man and turned to Sullyan.
“Forgive my skepticism, Major, but if we were to accept your claim and your offer, then our lives, our ruler’s life, and the fate of our realm would ultimately rest on your shoulders. And I think you will agree,” he gave a small smile, “they are not very broad shoulders.”
This drew a vast snort from Kryp. Sullyan spared him one piercing glance before turning back to Anjer. Aware that he was humoring her, she kept her tone neutral.
“My Lord, you are right to be cautious, and I concede that I am untried in your eyes. I do not wonder that you doubt me, considering the status of women in this realm.”
Both Kryp and Vanyr bridled, and even Ephan frowned. She swept on.
“Therefore, my Lords, Majesty, I ask that you give me a command. I am more than happy to prove my abilities in the field.”
Kryp leaped his feet, joined this time by Vanyr. The General’s grating voice was indignant with anger.
“That’s a monstrous idea, quite disgusting! She’s a woman, a girl! Whoever heard of such a travesty? It might be acceptable in Albia where they’re scarcely even intelligent, let alone civilized, but here? Really, Majesty, I must protest!”
Pharikian eyed him. “Must you, Kryp? Exactly what are you objecting to? I grant you she’s a young woman, but she is also a Major, a leader of men. Do you think her own command would follow her if she couldn’t do as she claims? She’s won an impressive array of battle honors, almost as many as you! Don’t you think that trial on the field of combat is an excellent way to gauge the skill and success of a military leader, whatever their age or gender? Or are you perhaps afraid that the Major might prove to be more skilled in her command than you are in yours?”
The barb shot home. Shaken by this personal attack on top of Sullyan’s earlier comment, Kryp gaped like a snared rabbit. Deflated, he sat. Pharikian stared at him in distaste. Ephan remained silent, keeping his thoughts to himself, but Anjer was more practical. Eyeing Sullyan, he said, “I have no sound reason to object to the Major’s request. However, finding men prepared to follow her might be a problem.”
Vanyr raised a hand. “Perhaps I might make a suggestion, Majesty?”
His diffident tone didn’t fool Sullyan and her eyes narrowed. This was what she had been waiting for. The Hierarch gestured for Vanyr to speak on, and the Lord General raised his brows.
Vanyr smiled. “Give her Ky-shan.”
Anjer rolled his eyes and Ephan looked as though he might protest. Kryp, however, beamed and clapped Vanyr soundly on the back.
“An excellent suggestion, Commander! I, for one, would be happy to accept the Major as his Majesty’s Champion if she proves her skills by leading Ky-shan’s men.”
Ephan stirred. “Majesty ....”
“Ky-shan?” Sullyan’s musing tone interrupted him. “A man from the eastern seaboard, by his name. And a pirate, unless I am mistaken.”
Kryp’s smirk disappeared and Vanyr scowled. Ephan’s protest died on his lips, but his mouth stayed open. Anjer relaxed back into his chair once more, arms folded across his chest.
Kryp leaned forward, his wheezy voice rising with astonishment. “How on earth did you know that, girl?”
“I travelled extensively through Andaryon in my youth, General. I sailed the eastern seas once or twice.”
The phrase ‘in my youth’ made Kryp’s eyes bulge. Sullyan saw Robin close his own mouth. This was a tale even he hadn’t heard before. She turned once more to Anjer.
“I would appreciate a little more information, Lord General, if you please.”
Caught out in his enjoyment of Kryp’s discomfiture, Anjer rallied quickly. “You seem remarkably well-informed already, Major.”
She didn’t react to the compliment, merely waited for his explanation.
“Well, you’re correct. Ky-shan is the leader of a band of men hailing from the eastern seaboard. I think he might object to the term ‘pirate’, though. Free traders, I believe they call themselves. Technically, eastern seaboarders come under his Majesty’s direct rule, but in practice they take little notice of the affairs of land-dwellers. Our recruiting officers went to the area, as they often do in search of suitable fighting men, and Ky-shan’s band was attracted by the pay, the general amnesty, and the promise of bounty should Rykan be defeated. Such men are often skilled and ferocious fighters, but they are little used to fighting on land. This particular group has proved difficult to handle and unreliable as regards following orders. They have had several commanders already, yet none have been willing to take them into battle.”
He paused, glancing pointedly at Vanyr. “Torman, weren’t you their last commander?”
The white-eyed man shot Sullyan an evil look. “I was indeed, Lord General. Ky-shan is a conscienceless rogue who respects no one and follows no discipline but his own. My own men distrusted him and refused to take the field with his band.”
“Yet you think they’re a suitable command for the Major?”
At the Hierarch’s interruption, Vanyr paled, realizing he had gone too far. “I only suggested them, Majesty, as all the other units are settled. Ky-shan’s band is the only one without an officer. What better way for the Major to prove herself than with such an untried company? As my Lord General has so rightly pointed out, it would be impossible to convince an established force to follow her.”
Pharikian’s lip curled. “That was your reasoning, was it?”
To forestall any further unpleasantness, Sullyan turned back to Anjer. “My Lord, how many men does Ky-shan have?”
“Around sixty, Major.”
“A discreet yet useful number. Are any of them Artesans?”
Anjer gestured to Vanyr, who answered sullenly. “Ky-shan and his son both have some power, but they are raw and untrained. Hardly surprising, as such ruffians set no store by discipline.”
She raised her brows but made no reply. “Are they well-armed and mounted?”
Anjer frowned. “You sound as if you’re considering taking them on, Major.”
“In the absence of any other suitable candidates, Lord General, I believe I am.”
Vanyr exchanged a smug look with Kryp, and Sullyan also caught a glimpse of Robin’s concerned expression. He wouldn’t be feeling confident about this band of ‘free traders’ and she had to admit they sounded like a handful
. However, he would back her in whatever she decided.
Anjer shrugged. “They have what they came with, Major. I imagine they are armed well enough, but as to the rest, you will have to see for yourself.”
“May I have your authority to requisition what I might need, my Lord?”
Anjer twitched a hand at Gaslek, who hastily wrote on a parchment. “You will have my authority, Major.” Gaslek passed him the parchment, which he signed with a flourish. He pressed his ring to the wax Gaslek dripped on it, and then the secretary came around the table to hand the parchment over. Sullyan scanned it quickly before laying it on the table to dry.
“I thank you, my Lord. I have one more question. Where are they quartered?”
Ephan answered. “They have a compound in the northern quarter, Major. I will have someone show you the way.”
“I appreciate the offer, General, but it will not be necessary. The Captain and I will find them.”
Ephan shrugged.
Satisfied with the outcome of the meeting, Sullyan bowed. She was about to retreat to her seat next to Robin when the Hierarch motioned for her to take one of the chairs at the oval table. Humbled by the honor, she took the chair directly opposite him, deliberately placing herself in the lowest position. This wasn’t lost on either Pharikian or Anjer. She then gestured for Robin to come and stand behind her, which earned her a hard stare from Kryp. She chose to ignore it.
Anjer spared her one last glance before turning back to his commanders. “Very well, gentlemen, I propose we adopt the Major’s strategy. Ephan, Kryp, I want to see you both in my office in one hour with full details of your companies’ strengths. I want suggestions as to which units will carry out strikes on Rykan’s column with the aim of distracting and splitting his men.”
Sullyan sat in silence, observing the play of emotion across the warleaders’ faces as Anjer outlined her strategy. Now and then she crossed glances with Kryp and Vanyr which Anjer noticed. While he didn’t remark on it, the expression in his eyes was hard.
Sullyan was pleased to learn that she would be reporting to Ephan rather than Kryp. The Hierarch thanked and dismissed them, and the warleaders rose to leave. As they approached the door, Sullyan saw Anjer throw a massive arm across Kryp’s heavily padded shoulders. Kryp looked none too pleased by the intimacy. They left the room together, and she stifled a laugh when she heard Anjer say, “So remind me, Kryp, when was the last time you used your sword in the field?”
