Brown,_Simon_-_[Keys_Of_Power_03]_-_Sovereign

by Simon Brown

  In that we are different, she told herself, and prayed that it was true.

  Farben pretended not to notice that Charion and Galen came out of her bedchamber together, both quickly strapping on sword belts and slipping mail hauberks over their heads. In fact, he hoped a lover might improve his queen's notorious temper.

  'Two signal fires?' she demanded of him, snapping the question.

  Well, perhaps it would improve her temper over time. 'Yes, your Majesty.'

  'Only two?'

  Farben sighed. How many more ways could she ask the question? 'Yes, your Majesty.'

  Charion and Galen exchanged glances. 'That means the Chett scouts were well ahead of their army,' Galen said. 'It's the only way they could have surprised so many of the outposts.'

  'We may be lucky to have got any warning at all.'

  'I'll lead a detachment out right away. See if we can pin down the direction of their advance.'

  'No,' Charion said.

  Farben noticed the cross expression that flickered over Galen's face. Oh, good. Two of them with tempers like rutting bears. That was all the court needed.

  'But we have to know what Lynan's intentions are,' Galen insisted.

  'You're thinking like a commander in the field, not in a city preparing for a siege. We know what Lynan's intentions are. He's heading straight for us. We know how fast his army can move. If they're not here tonight, they'll be here by tomorrow. What more can you learn by leading some of your knights north of the city? Other than what it feels like to be skewered by a Chett arrow, I mean.'

  Galen opened his mouth to reply, but his brain was working faster than his tongue and he closed it again. Farben noticed that, too, and decided the Kendran noble—just like Charion—might have some redeeming features after all.

  'Get your knights together and keep them away from the walls. I don't want them tied down defending; I've got plenty of infantry to handle that. What I need is a sally force.'

  Galen smiled grimly. 'It would suit us best,' he admitted. 'What about you?'

  'My place is with my people. You can find me on the walls.'

  They stopped for a moment, shared a look that Farben could have translated had he wanted to, and went in different directions. Farben followed Charion, cleared his mind for the list of instructions that would follow.

  'First, all my commanders are to meet me at the main gate. Second, all who can carry a weapon are to collect one from the armoury, including any of the wounded who can walk. Third, send a carrier pigeon to Kendra. Tell them we will be under siege within a day. Ask them if they have an army on its way. Anything. What about Jes Prado and his mercenaries? Where are they?'

  'Yes, your Majesty.'

  They had left the palace and were now striding up the city's central avenue to the main gate. Charion waved confidently to anyone they passed. 'Are you still following me, Farben?'

  'In case you have more instructions,' he said defensively.

  'I have no more instructions,' she said. 'For now.'

  It was almost dark when the main part of Lynan's force arrived outside the walls of Daavis. Under explicit instructions not to assault the city, the Chert banners stayed out of bow range. When Lynan arrived soon after nightfall he listened to the reports of his banner leaders and scouts, then decided to ride out and inspect the city walls himself.

  'But it is dark,' one of the officers pointed out.

  Lynan smiled thinly. 'I will see well enough.'

  The officer blushed. 'I should not question—'

  'Do not apologise,' Lynan interrupted him. 'It is not wrong to question.'

  His commanders bowed and left; Korigan, Ager and Gudon stayed behind.

  'Exactly how well do you see at night?' Ager asked.

  'Almost as well as you might during the day.'

  Ager patted his empty eye socket. 'That's not saying a great deal.'

  'I think my night vision is as good as Silona's.'

  The mention of the wood vampire's name made everyone fall silent. Lynan studied their faces, noticing they would not meet his eyes, not even Korigan. It made him feel lonely.

  'I'd best get started,' he said and went to his horse.

  'Do you want company?' Korigan asked.

  Lynan mounted, looked down at the small group of friends. He saw their love for him in their eyes and he felt a surge of love for all of them in turn, and a frustrating fear that he could not protect them all from harm. I feel like a father to them, he thought, forgetting he was the youngest of all.

  'I will be fine,' he told Korigan and tapped the horse into motion. Gudon rode beside him. Lynan smiled at him.

  'You do not believe I will be fine?'

  'Truth, little master, I believe you would be fine swimming in the Barda River in the middle of a school of jaizru.'

  Lynan's smile turned into a grin. He too easily remembered the horror and panic he had felt the first and last time he had encountered the flying eels. Invulnerable or not, it was not something he would care to experience again.

  'Then you must be going to tell me something very important and very wise.'

  'You mock me,' Gudon said insincerely, matching Lynan's grin.

  'Indeed,' Lynan admitted. 'So get on with it.'

  Gudon's expression became more serious. 'You cannot protect us by turning us away from you.'

  Lynan did not try to hide his surprise. 'How did you know—?'

  Gudon waved one hand. 'We have gone through too much together for me not to understand how you sometimes think and sometimes feel, especially about those you care for. Losing Kumul has wounded you deeper than you will ever admit, even to yourself. But this is a war, Lynan, and we have attached ourselves to your fortunes for good or ill. We each of us made that decision for ourselves. Do not turn your back on us thinking that will save us from harm.'

  Lynan blushed. 'I would never turn my back on you, Gudon, or any of the others.'

  'Not intentionally. We are your friends, Lynan, your companions-in-arms, not your children.'

  Lynan nodded. 'I will not forget.'

  Gudon smiled again. 'Then that is all the wisdom I have for you!' he declared and stopped his horse, letting Lynan pull ahead.

  He had not gone more than fifty paces when another horse drew alongside him. 'Where do you go, Lynan?' asked the rider.

  'Jenrosa. Are you keeping well?'

  'There is something we must talk about.'

  'You too? Can it wait? I want to see the walls of Daavis—'

  'I will come with you,' she said in a voice that meant, 'I will come with you whether you like it or not.'

  'You ignored my question,' he observed.

  And, as if to prove a point, she continued to ignore it. They rode together out of the main camp. The city walls rose white out of a dark plain. They looked formidable to Lynan, and he remembered they had proven themselves against Salokan. He counted the towers, and was even able to see the helms and lances of the city guards as they patrolled along the walls. He rode east first, then south to the Barda River. There he met patrols of Ager's Ocean Clan waiting with bows to ambush any barge that attempted to leave the river downstream.

  I should have thought of that, Lynan told himself. What else have I missed? What would Kumul be telling me now?

  The thought of Kumul filled him with grief. He still had not had time to properly mourn the death of his friend. Ever since the death of his father when he was asmall boy, Kumul had been his teacher and guardian, and had loved Lynan like a son. He glanced at Jenrosa and knew Kumul's death must be at least as hard on her. Why had she not spoken to him yet? She said she had something to talk to him about.

  'I miss Kumul,' he said, surprised by the words. And then—with sudden certainty—he knew why he had said them.

  Jenrosa looked taken aback. Lynan could hear her breath quicken. 'This isn't the time—'

  'This is exactly the right time,' he said quickly. 'We haven't really talked since his death. We haven't sat down together and t
alked like friends; we haven't remembered him together like friends. I haven't even talked to Ager about any of this.'

  'I don't want to talk about it,' she said flatly. 'I don't want to remember the pain. We're in the middle of a war, and by the end of it Kumul's death will be…' Her voice trailed off. She was going to say 'insignificant', but the lie stopped in her throat.

  He reached out to touch her hand, but she retreated from him. Humiliated, not sure what to do, he withdrew. Jenrosa, too, seemed unsure what to do, or where to look.

  Eventually Lynan said: 'What is it you wanted to see me about?'

  For a moment Jenrosa looked as if she did not understand the question.

  'I'm sorry,' she started, her tone apologetic, but he cut her off with a wave of his hand.

  'What did you want to see me about?' he insisted, his voice hard now.

  'The Chetts are being attacked on the Oceans of Grass.'

  'Who could possibly be attacking the Chetts?' he asked, his disbelief obvious.

  'The enemy fight on foot, and they carry a pennant with a design of a bird I do not recognise.'

  'How do you know this? What magik…?'

  'Strong magik, Lasthear tells me.' Jenrosa was about to say more, but changed her mind.

  'Are you sure it is not something that has happened in the distant past? Or is still to be?'

  She shook her head. 'I used the magik two mornings ago. I'm sure I saw the attack as it was happening.'

  'Two mornings ago?' he demanded, suddenly in a rage. 'God, woman, why didn't you tell me then?'

  Suddenly nervous, Jenrosa said: 'Because I wasn't sure of what I'd done and seen.'

  'Unsure?' He almost bellowed the word. Jenrosa heard it ring out across the fields.

  'Unsure about my magik,' she said quickly, trying to keep her voice hushed. 'I didn't want to believe I was doing it.'

  Lynan sat back in his saddle. The rage fell away from him, and he was left confused. He did not understand what she meant, but he could sense the fear in her. 'But, Jenrosa, two days…'

  'I'm here now,' she said. 'And I couldn't tell you in front of anyone else. I had to wait until you were alone.'

  'Why?'

  'It was the Horse Clan, Lynan. It was a massacre. I'm not sure, but I think there were no more than a handful of survivors.'

  'Eynon's clan?' He was aghast. 'Wiped out?'

  She nodded. 'What was left of it on the Oceans of Grass.'

  'God.'

  'All he has now are the warriors he brought with him to serve you.'

  'It's my fault,' he muttered, his voice distant.

  'That's a stupid thing to say,' she said abruptly. 'You didn't know this would happen. And who's to say if Eynon had still been there the outcome would have been any different? But he'll want to go back.'

  'No,' Lynan said emphatically.

  'What do you mean? He has to go back.'

  'You said yourself there were probably no more than a handful of survivors. What will he go back to?'

  'But the enemy, whoever it is, may still be there!' she said, her voice rising. 'They have to be dealt with!'

  'I need Eynon and his warriors here for the attack on Daavis. If he rushes off to the Oceans of Grass I will have to call off the siege and we lose the initiative. I can't afford to let Areava dictate what happens in this war. Besides, we don't know that the attacker is still on the plains.'

  'But if they are they could overrun the Oceans of Grass!'

  'I won't let it be overrun!' he snapped. 'There are still thousands of warriors on the plain—'

  'The best are with you, Lynan. You know that.'

  'I will do what is best for all the Chetts,' he said.

  'You mean you'll do what's best for Lynan. The two aren't necessarily the same thing.'

  'I will do what's best for the Chetts,' he repeated coldly. 'Having them retreat back to the Oceans of Grass serves no one except Areava.'

  'Eynon will find out.'

  'I can't stop you from telling him—'

  'Oh, stop it, Lynan! He won't find out from me! But even if there were no survivors, another clan's outriders will eventually come across the battle site. Or worse, whoever the attacker is will strike at another clan. How long do you think it will be before a rider comes with the news? A month? Less?'

  He glanced at the walls of Daavis. 'I only need a month.'

  'And what then? All of Haxus and Hume under your heel, what's next on your list?'

  'What are you talking about? This isn't just about Lynan Rosetheme. It's about revealing Berayma's murderers. It's about Areava sending mercenaries against the Chetts. It's about keeping free the trade routes between east and west. It's about putting Ager back in his captain's uniform.' He jabbed a finger at Jenrosa and his voice started rising. 'And it's about getting you back in the theurgia which is all you've cared about since we escaped from Kendra!'

  Without thinking Jenrosa slapped Lynan's face. He recoiled from her like a released spring. She looked at her hand and for a moment thought she could see blood on it. She screamed and rubbed it against her vest and looked at it again. There was nothing there, not even a smear. When she looked up again Lynan was already gone, heading north again. For a long while she did not move. She was paralysed by what she had done. 'I'm sorry,' she said, too weakly for Lynan to hear.

  CHAPTER 11

  Night again. With a long sigh Amemun dug his way out from underneath his cloak. There was food being cooked nearby and he was drawn to it the way fleas seem to be drawn to him of late. One of the Saranah offered him a large piece of beef which he accepted gratefully. He had not been starving on the expedition to the Oceans of Grass, but he found the usual Saranah fare of mutton jerky, dried yogurt and seed cake about as appealing as parchment. As he chewed on the fresh meat Dekelon appeared, giving instructions to a group of wounded warriors. They were being sent back to the Saranah homeland with the surviving cattle and other prizes looted from the Chett clan they had butchered two days before. They could have carried more if they were mounted or just used the Chett's own horses as pack animals, but as Dekelon had explained to him, no Saranah had ridden for over a hundred years, and the desert country could not support a large number of horses. Still, even the wounded were carrying what seemed to be a small mountain of loot. Amemun could imagine the glee with which the train would be received in that poor country.

  Dekelon grabbed some food and joined Amemun.

  'Where to next?' Amemun asked him.

  'West. The plains get drier and the clans are more scattered.'

  'Less prizes for your people.'

  'Less chance of being discovered,' Dekelon countered. 'And for the moment that is more important.'

  'But with most of the Chett warriors in the east with Lynan Rosetheme you should not worry about discovery. You could handle any single clan—'

  'As long as Lynan Rosetheme's army stays in the east,' Dekelon interrupted, his voice level.

  Amemun eyed him warily. 'What do you mean?'

  'A messenger came last night from your king.'

  'Marin? What message?'

  'An army from Grenda Lear defeated this Lynan in battle not far from the city of Daavis, and this occurred not long after the same army had forced the king of Haxus to retreat from besieging that same city.'

  'The Lord of the Mountain be blessed!' Amemun cried. This was better news than he had expected. And so soon! He had feared the war would drag on for months or even years. At this rate, Lynan and his Chett allies would be forced back to the Oceans of Grass before the end of summer.

  'I can see what you are thinking,' Dekelon said. 'Does this mean the Kingdom's support for the Saranah will dry up like one of our creeks in summer?'

  Amemun thought quickly. 'There is no reason to think one battle will end the war.'

  'That is exactly what you were thinking. And you did not answer my question.'

  'The money will come, as promised. My own life is surety for that.'

  'Exactly
my thought,' Dekelon said slowly.

  Amemun decided it was time to change the subject.

  'Did Marin send any other news?'

  Dekelon nodded. 'But it was not good news. The queen lost her baby.'

  'Areava?'

  'A daughter. Marin's granddaughter, as I understand it.'

  'And the queen?' Amemun asked, his voice subdued.

  'Marin says nothing of that.'

  'Then she survived,' he said with certainty, breathing out a sigh of relief. So much of Marin's plan—their plan!—depended on Areava and Sendarus having a child. If Areava survived, they could try again.

  'The message had another part,' Dekelon said carefully. 'Your king says it will bring you great sorrow.'

  It was a moonless night. The Oceans of Grass ran away on either side of Amemun like a dark, waveless sea. The Saranah kept up a punishing pace, running at a strange half-lope that ate up the leagues. Up until tonight they had taken frequent breaks to allow Amemun to keep up, but tonight there were no breaks. Amemun, at the end of the line, was using all his energy keeping up with the dim shadow of the runner in front of him. He knew Dekelon was doing this to stop him from wallowing in his grief; in his own way, Dekelon was doing him a favour. But a kernel deep inside Amemun's heart knew the grief would wait. He was afraid it would be so great it might kill him.

  Under the clear sky with its myriad stars, running in the great silent air of the great plains, Amemun found his mind drifting between memory and the present. There were times when he believed—knew as a fact—that Sendarus was still alive, and then the universe would wheel around and the weight of the truth would fill him with a pain he had never experienced before. The hardest part for Amemun—the wise counsellor, the patient teacher, the guardian of princes—was that although he knew Sendarus's death was a great tragedy, he could not yet comprehend it. He had never believed that there could exist something in the world that was so beyond his experience, beyond his knowing, and realising that something like that did exist made a mockery of all that he had learned and believed in.