She and the captain arrived in her office, both panting. She thought to dismiss Kopol but decided she should stay. Nalin at the conference table, Tanres standing beside him and another guard facing them awaited her.
“Nalin?” Lisen asked.
“Go ahead, Sergeant,” Nalin said to the young man who appeared to have been on the road for days.
“Aye, my lord. My Liege, the Thristans are gathering. We saw the first of them two weeks ago traveling from Mesa Eres to Mesa Terses.”
“He brought a letter from Under-commander Cunbae as well,” Nalin added, holding a piece of parchment up.
“And?” Lisen asked.
“It just adds some details.”
“Kopol, see to the sergeant’s needs, will you?” Lisen waited, stock still, her eyes going back and forth between Nalin and Tanres, until Kopol and the sergeant had left. Then with a deep breath, she sat down at the table directly across from Nalin. “Well, that’s it then. When do we leave?” She looked at the table where they’d laid out the large map of Garla with the small wood figurines in place on top of Avaret, each representing hundreds of soldiers. These reminded her of Earth’s chess pieces. She picked one up and studied it—not much more than a block of light-colored wood with eyes carved in it. “Well?” she asked impatiently and slammed the piece back down on the table.
“Tomorrow, my Liege,” Tanres replied. “I’ll go tell the officers.”
“And we tell the holders,” Lisen added, regaining her composure.
“Yes,” Nalin said, his voice soft, respecting the moment.
“We head to the plain?” Lisen picked up another piece and set it down again where the map read “Bellin Plain.”
“There’s a forest to the west where we’ll camp,” Nalin said.
“What about the holders and volunteers who are still on their way?”
“Only two holders, my Liege. Dors from Carlasa and Sakal from Grimmal,” Tanres informed her. “I’ll send out messengers to intercept them with instructions on how to join up with us on the road.”
“Dors won’t show up,” Lisen said. “Don’t waste a messenger on that one. But Sakal is kin of yours, right, Nalin?”
“My uncle. I’m sure he’s on his way.”
“Long way between here and Grimmal,” Lisen muttered as she looked at the map. “Anything could happen between here and there. Let’s be sure Jazel has the full information in case Holder Sakal and your messenger fail to meet up.”
“Aye, my Liege,” Tanres replied.
Lisen took a deep breath. Tomorrow. After all this time, finally, tomorrow. War was coming. Once again Korin had proven worthy of her trust.
“Now,” Tanres continued, “if you’ll excuse me, I will go and meet with my officers.” And with a salute, the commander left.
“So. This is it,” Lisen murmured, and Nalin nodded. “What do I do? Do I pack? Or do the servants do that?”
“You might want to supervise. And ask someone in the Guard to advise you on what to take.”
Lisen’s body tingled with energy, and she stretched her neck in several different directions and shook her arms.
“Restless?” Nalin asked. When Lisen nodded, he continued. “You could work on your sword mastery skills. Work out some of that tension.”
“You forget. I have magic on my side,” Lisen declared with a laugh and then stood up. “I think I’ll go see if Kopol is done with our messenger from the Pass.” She turned and left the room, her thoughts dancing in her head.
Yes, she’d laughed at the idea of using her magic, but at the sound of her own words, she’d begun thinking. Magic? Pushing? Did she dare? Could she? She’d pushed seven at one time; could she push more? No, I can think of a million reasons why I shouldn’t even try. And yet….
After inquiring of one of the house guards as to where to find Kopol, she struck out for the stables. She found her new captain seeing to the messenger’s horse, passing it off to one of the hands. When Kopol turned around, she halted abruptly to avoid nearly running her Empir over.
“My Liege. Forgive me.”
“Not your fault. I snuck up on you. Come, walk with me.”
With Lisen leading the way, they headed back to the Sitting Garden, and Lisen invited the captain to join her on the bench.
“My Liege?” Kopol objected.
“No, sit. You are allowed, you know, especially if I order you to.”
Kopol settled onto the edge of the bench gingerly.
Before speaking, Lisen considered her request, determined that carrying out the beginning of her plan would not commit her to the rest of it, that there would be time later to change her mind, and proceeded.
“Captain, you spent how long at Pass Garrison?” she asked.
“About three years, my Liege, but I grew up in the foothills of The Rim, so I’ve basically lived all my life there.”
“Good. I’m about to ask you to do something for me that is very, very important, and you must promise to say nothing to anyone, not even your commander.”
“My Liege?”
Lisen furrowed her brows at the woman to encourage her to speak.
“A command from you supersedes all others, my Liege.”
“Good. I have a plan. Or, the beginnings of a plan. A plan I may or may not implement, but in order to keep the plan viable, I need an item I believe can be found in the desert.”
“Yes,” Kopol said cautiously.
“You’ve heard of gryl?”
“Yes, it’s what the abductors gave you. Oh, Creators, my Liege,” Kopol said as she realized what her Empir’s plan might be. “You don’t want to do that.”
“I don’t want to do it, but I may have to. And in order to keep my options open, I need some gryl from wherever it originates in the desert. Do you know? Do you know anyone who might be able to get some for you? Because I want you to bring me some, and I’ll need it by the time we get to Bellin Plain.”
“I…I don’t know, my Liege.” Kopol appeared to consider this for a moment, then focused her sharp blue eyes on Lisen. “I may know someone, but it could take some time.”
“Time we don’t have,” Lisen replied with a sigh.
“No, let me try. If it’s that important to you, my Liege, then it’s that important to me.”
Lisen clapped the captain on the shoulder and watched Kopol’s mouth turn up in a satisfied smile. “Leave today, now. I’ll tell the commander you’re on a mission for me.”
Kopol jumped up and made to run off but stopped herself and turned back. “Where do we…meet up?”
“At Bellin Plain, probably in the forest to the west. Don’t let any Thristans see you. Oh, and get out of that uniform. Leave it with me, and I’ll bring it for you.”
“I’ll leave it with your clerk once I’ve changed.”
“Ride fast. Two weeks, maybe a bit more with foot soldiers, and we’ll be there.”
“Aye, my Liege. I will not fail.”
Kopol was gone between one blink and the next, and Lisen couldn’t help wondering why she’d done it. Could she change the outcome with thought alone? Was she that powerful? She shook her head as she stared at the wall of flowers in front of her, the flowers she had no name for. She had no name for a great many things in this world, and she doubted she understood much at all about anything.
She’d jumped at the idea of taking a try at turning the advantage to Garla, but perhaps that wasn’t why she was here. Maybe she was here to fail at that, allowing Thristas to triumph. Damnable sooth. The entire future-reading gift was unfathomable to Lisen, and she wondered if, in trying to keep Eloise’s plan intact, she might end up veering from the path and changing everything. Or, perhaps, she already had.
The next morning, Nalin leaned on one crutch as Bala helped him into his full-dress, blue Corday uniform. He thought it was a bit overdone, but Bala had insisted he have something that identified him as the holder of Felane and the Empir’s Will. The Ilazer green stole completed his ensemble. Its sm
ooth silk had been dyed the requisite green and adorned with a minimum of gold embroidery. The color complemented the light blue of his tunic. In this regalia, he would sit atop his horse for the departure and then ride directly to the carriage set aside for him where he would dismount and settle in for the journey to Bellin Plain. The thought of riding two weeks with the damn false boot affixed to his thigh made his leg ache.
He sat down to pull his boot on and looked up to Bala who had just thrown her floor-length black cloak over her shoulders. The tunic beneath the cloak was purple, and he smiled at how the dark colors accentuated her golden hair. He’d thought Jozan had been meant for him, but she’d never shied away from risk, and ultimately he would have found that difficult to manage. Bala, on the other hand, offered her wholeness to him and their relationship. As one who gave his all to those he cared about as well, he appreciated her open heart.
“Cloak?” she asked.
“Could you carry it?” He nodded towards his crutches leaning against his bed.
Bala gathered up his midnight blue cloak and stood before him. She smiled, he smiled, and then he grabbed the crutches and rose from the chair. He’d gotten quite good at getting around on his own.
They both turned in the direction of the Keep’s bell tower as the deepest bell began to toll, one somber ring after another.
“It’s time,” he said softly, a wave of melancholy sweeping over him. Some or even all of those heading out this morning might never return. How long ago did this become inevitable? Nalin wondered. Not as recently as Lisen’s escape from her abductors. No, it went back much further than that. Lisen talked about the Thristans in a way he’d never heard before, and her words had caused him to ponder his own assumptions about them. But, in the end, they would engage one another and still not talk about their differences and similarities.
“Let’s go,” Bala urged, and Nalin realized his thoughts had wandered off, leaving his body standing in the middle of his bedchamber behind the Empir’s office.
They made their way to the portico where the steps were wider and easier for him to navigate. His baggage, along with Lisen’s, had already been stored in the carriage before sunrise. The three of them—he, Bala and Lisen—had shared a small breakfast of bread and cheese, none of them able to eat even that. Now, he and Bala stood at the top of the portico’s stairs and looked out at the people-worn park, the devastation of which would have destroyed Flandari. Necessity drove many things, and the park had proved to be the perfect campsite for the burgeoning army of volunteers. Those volunteers would head out today on foot, followed in a few days by the Guard, who would, in part, serve as the cavalry wing of their forces.
Nalin’s horse had been brought right up to the portico. Dekar, who had offered to go with them to help him out, stood on the steed’s right side ready to help him mount. Her method was flawless after the last few months of practice, and he was up and strapped in within seconds. The horse, a sturdy stallion, snorted and pranced in place. No more easy mares for Nalin—he would require a powerful animal to keep up through the conflict.
Dekar left, taking his crutches with her, and he urged his mount out towards the gathering troops. He headed straight for the path he and Lisen had traveled together nearly half a year ago where the seeds of this sticky bramble had first been sown. Bala, on the other hand, joined Dekar, and they headed to the carriage where Nalin knew they would toss the crutches and his cloak inside for him. He pictured Bala, her braids bouncing as she ran, moving on to the stables where her own horse awaited her. She would only ride out to the end of the park with them today; her departure with the cavalry still lay a few days away.
Lisen sat atop Pharaoh at the front of her army, Commander Tanres, also mounted, beside her. Nalin joined them there, hasty greetings exchanged, and they waited for Bala. Other holders mingled with one another, everyone ready to go. Bala finally approached, and Lisen turned to the commander.
“Well?”
Tanres stood up in her stirrups, surveyed the crowd grouped by holdings and nodded to her Empir. “Ready.”
Lisen turned Pharaoh to face the thousands on the verge of leaving everything they knew behind to head out into the unknown.
“Holders! Councilors! Emperi guards! People of Garla!” Pharaoh wheeled back and forth as Lisen spoke, and she turned her head one way and then the other as he did so, sweeping her eyes across every soldier on the field. “Today begins the reckoning. Today we march out to meet the Thristans on Bellin Plain. I don’t know what awaits us there, but I do know this. You are the hope for Garla’s future. You bravely volunteered to defend Garla. You’ve worked hard all winter long, acquiring and honing skills you didn’t know you had. You’ve grown strong, and you are ready. And now the fulfillment of your dream of safety for Garla, for its people and for those dear to you is at hand.”
A servant stepped forward to hand Lisen a goblet with wine in it.
“I raise my cup to you, brave warriors of Garla!” Lisen continued. “And to the victory that awaits us!” And Lisen downed the wine in her goblet.
“To victory!” the thousands responded, raising the glasses the servants had circulated and then drinking from them.
Nalin knew that every cup of any shape or size they could find in the Keep had been commandeered for this toast and that the wine had come from Lisen’s own stores, nearly depleting them. But she had insisted on this, stating that the way to bring these people together was to give them a task to share. Somehow, between the servants’ hard work in preparation and a rousing speech which, given her overwhelming sense of guilt, Lisen had to have found difficult to deliver, Nalin believed she’d accomplished her goal.
She passed the goblet back to the servant and turned towards the east. Only a few yards away was the spot where the Thristans had attacked the two of them, taking her and leaving him broken. She gestured to him to join her, and he urged his stallion into a trot.
“This is it,” she said as he pulled up beside her. “Let’s do this together.” He nodded, and they pulled out, the echoing footfalls of a mass of people moving forward following behind them. Following their Empir wherever she led them. Following her to confront their fate at Bellin Plain.
Hermit Titus shifted on the bench as he waited to speak to Primate Niko, a man he’d met only four or five months ago when they’d worked together to heal Holder Corday’s badly broken leg and, ultimately, to save his life. The primate had requested this meeting and had scheduled it early in the morning of the day when Titus was set to leave with the Garlan cavalry, led by the young Holder Tuane and a captain of the Guard, for Bellin Plain in the east. He’d been in Avaret for three days, arriving the day after the first wave had departed. Why had the primate waited until late last night to summon him? He wiggled some more and worried that he’d be late and have to figure out how to catch up with the rest of them. He wasn’t much of a rider, and to make his way on his own was not the way he’d pictured his life ending.
“Titus.”
He looked up to see the primate standing at the door to his office. The primate’s palace was a sumptuous place and far too rich for the tastes of a humble hermit. Titus had seen nothing of it on his last stay in Avaret; then, he’d been put up in the Keep two doors down from Holder Corday’s room. Now that was luxury.
“Your Grace,” Titus said and rose.
“I’ll only keep you here a minute. Sit, sit.” The primate took a seat beside Titus on the bench. “My understanding is the first group that left four days ago is to pick up a healer from Erinina Haven, and two more will come from Rossla.”
“That’s what I was told, Your Grace.”
“You know the Empir well?”
Titus nodded. “Not well, but well enough.”
“I’ve heard you held her memories for a time.”
“Your Grace?” Titus bristled at the feeling that his soul had been invaded.
“Don’t be silly,” the primate continued. “Hermit Eloise wrote to me. She asked specif
ically that you take personal charge of the Empir.”
“She knows something,” Titus whispered, more to himself than to Primate Niko.
The primate patted him on the knee. “Calm yourself. Whatever she knows she’s keeping to herself.”
“Why didn’t she say something to me at Solsta before I left?”
“Perhaps because she didn’t want you reading personal context into what she said.”
Titus shrugged. “Can I see the letter?”
“No. But here’s what she said. As soon as you reach the camp, go to the Empir’s Will and tell him which tent is yours.”
Titus waited, thinking there would be more. “And?” he finally asked.
“That was all she wrote. That you should make sure you were available and easy to locate. Now, go and do your duty.”
“A war, Your Grace. A hermit in the middle of a war?”
“What better place for a person of peace?”
Titus doubted the primate’s sincerity. To become primate required a certain arrogance and an ease with the political. Neither of these attributes fell into the definition of a hermit’s aspirations. “I suppose,” Titus conceded and stood. “Thank you, Your Grace. And tell Hermit Eloise I shall follow her instructions.”
“I shall supplicate for the safety of all,” the primate said as he, too, rose.
With a nod, Titus turned and left the palace. Association with a sooth could be brutal, he realized, as he walked back up the hill to the Keep. For years he’d listened to Eloise and done what she asked when she’d asked it. Holding on to Lisen’s memories for seven years had nearly torn his mind apart, but he’d survived. Now he’d be out amongst soldiers on both sides with swords and knives and other deadly weapons with no weapon of his own. He didn’t consider himself a timid man, but he had his limits, and life on a battlefield would definitely stretch them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
sometimes, a mad notion
Rinli cried fiercely as Korin packed what he could only presume an adult and an infant might need as witnesses to a war—sword, shindah, a standard-issue Garlan knife, changes of clothes suitable to the Garlan spring for both of them, wipers for cleaning, swaddling towels for Rinli’s waste. It would have been better if she were younger. She’d begun eating a bit of softened meal and mashed haral fruit, and none of that could be easily prepared on the road. He’d considered this for days and finally decided he’d chew her food for her and then feed it to her like a bird. He sighed. He’d traveled thousands of leagues during his life, but he’d never traveled with a helpless baby dependent on him. Would he know what to bring? He couldn’t ask anyone because the Thristan army’s leaders didn’t know he was planning on joining them, and besides, had anyone living ever taken a child on a war march? He doubted it.
Blooded (Lisen of Solsta Book 3) Page 32
