"Beyond the kingdom?"
"Marchers up north. Miltaiye to the east. It's just plains to the west of the kingdom. South the kingdom border ends at the pass summit and below Valin it extends about ten leagues beyond the villages. The villages themselves serve no strategic purpose."
"The Firstwood?"
"Absolutely no strategic value," Gahrit returned. "And you've just confirmed who you are, every other person in this kingdom calls them the Wardsman's Woods."
Meda frowned at him. "When you know them by one name for five centuries, it's hard to get used to a different name just because a bunch of mortals come along and change it."
Gahrit nodded. "I'm sure you knew Corydon Hold was originally called Sentinel Hold because it guarded the pass."
"Yes," Meda said. "They changed the name when the first Lord Corydon was appointed there and they started calling the holds after the families that held them instead of the land or purpose they served."
Gahrit sighed, closing his eyes for a long moment. He could feel the weariness starting to set in and knew he'd need to rest soon. There were times his physical limitations frustrated him, but he knew he was far better now than he had been as a child. He could remember when he'd been unable to even get out of bed for weeks at a time. His parents had brought in healers from all over the kingdom trying to find a way to cure him. One had concocted different herbal mixtures that he'd been forced to drink several times a day that had left him sicker than he'd started out. Another had tried treating him with an assortment of odd foods. A third had set leeches and an assortment of other insects to biting and stinging him. One had cut bits from his hair and fingernails and burned it over different incenses insisting that would cure him.
By the time he was ten summers, Gahrit had decided he'd had enough and locked himself in his room. He'd refused to unlock the door even for his parents, and as over protective as they were, they'd been convinced something was terribly wrong. By the time his father had found the key to the door and they'd opened it, they found him sitting up in bed reading. A long discussion had followed, and Gahrit had finally convinced them that the healers were doing more harm than good and they should just let him be.
Over the years he'd slowly gained some strength and stamina, though he knew he'd always be weak and susceptible to illness if he got too chilled or too hot.
He had seen how his parents had redirected their attention from him onto Mehlis and Bredyn, and had decided the best way he could help them was to convince Dahlos and Sevanha he would be capable of becoming their heir. It had taken time, but he'd eventually succeeded. He knew he couldn't protect his sister and brother from the demands their parents would make of them in the training yard and learning to fight, but he could take the weight of learning how to run the hold off of them.
"My guess is the army is here to keep anymore of Nahtan's armies from going south," he said, opening his eyes again. "Thorvald had to know so long as Herridon City was threatened, especially by this large of a force, none of Nahtan's allied hold lords were going to ignore it."
"That would be my assumption as well," Meda agreed. "That doesn't mean they still won't attack at some point."
"I'll worry about that when the time comes," Gahrit assured her. "Until then, I have people to feed and supplies to get stockpiled." He was using the old supplies from the stores to feed the citizens now, and moving the new harvests and supplies into the storehouses as room opened up. As Meda stood up, another thought occurred to him. "Are there any other servants from the gods here?"
She shook her head. "None of Jensina's," she replied. "She has one other one who helps Nahtan from time to time, but he's not in the city right now. Halona has one that I know of who's gone to help Nahtan, and I only know about him because he's not normally allowed to take a mortal form, so we all felt it when he did."
Gahrit raised an eyebrow at her. "Why is he not allowed to take a mortal form? It was my understand you could all do that when your god needed you to."
Meda paused. "Areli is the one servant we all know--even Zared's chosen know and are very wary of him. He brings with him a certain--" she paused, obviously having a hard time finding the right word. Something that surprised Gahrit. "Formidable presence. The fact that Halona asked him to take mortal form," she shook her head. "Tells me that Halona must be expecting something very bad to happen and she wanted to make sure she had the very best she could send there."
"You do realize I'm going to go look for every book on him now, don't you?" he asked her.
Meda nodded. "There is one book written about him," she told him. "And it's not here in the city."
"And you won't tell me where it is?"
She shrugged. "I have no idea actually," she replied. "I've seen it once. For all I know, he had one of Halona's other servants get it from the book vendor who had it last and burn it just to keep the mystery alive."
"Of course," Gahrit sighed. "No servants from Zakris or Zared that I need to worry about?"
"Zared isn't allowed any," Meda told him. "He can only work through his chosen priests, so he cheats some there and gives them abilities that most chosen priests wouldn't have. Zakris very rarely takes servants or has chosen priests. As long as I've existed, I've only know about seven or eight servants that Zakris has had, and all of those have eventually moved on to either Jensina's or Halona's spirit realms. He's never had more than one or maybe two chosen priests at a time in the world. I can't even remember the last time I heard about him offering someone a place in his priesthood. He has to deem a soul worthy of great mercy or great compassion to be given either of those chances."
"Good," Gahrit nodded. "So you're the only troublemaker I need to worry about from the gods then." He hid his smile as she stared at him.
"I'll be in the library," she frowned, then turned to leave, muttering as she left the room.
**********
Jerai watched as Tosia leaned her head against the mare's neck. The dappled grey of the horse's coat shivered as Zared's bond within her mind collapsed and disappeared under Tosia's assault against it. Adie and Tosia had shown up with the combined armies from Takis and Devayne holds just a few days before, and Tosia had immediately set to work breaking the last of the bonds Zared had set in the Dwellers' horses minds there at the city. Tamnor had taken the Devayne armies around to the west side while Brijade's lieutenant Rouvin had kept the Takis armies on the east, reinforcing those from the Stronghold.
"My Lord?"
Jerai turned as Siara approached, holding out a hand to her. She dressed in leather breeches and a low cut horsehide vest over a heavy tunic to ward off the autumn chill. Her blonde hair was pulled into a braid them pinned up on the back of her head. "I've told you that you don't have to call me that," he reminded her. "We've been married six summers now." He pulled her beside him when she took his hand. "You can call me by my name somewhere other than in our private rooms."
"Thy informal way is hard still to adapt to, My Lo--Jerai," she said. The Dwellers kept to a high level of formality in both speech and interaction while in public. Jerai was the first of their lords to refuse to use their traditional formal speech. Though he observed most of their other customs, he'd only changed a few as they directly related to himself.
Jerai nodded. He didn't really expect any of the other Dwellers to change on his account, but he did wish his wife would be at least a little less formal with him. He looked down at her, his concern obvious.
"How are you doing?" he asked her.
She shrugged. "My body hath healed well," she said, squeezing his hand slightly. "But my heart aches for the lost infant. I hath lost three now before they could be born. I hath begun to believe I shall not give thee an heir."
Jerai leaned over and kissed her high on her cheek. "I'm not concerned about an heir right now," he told her. "I thought where you went longer this time, you might make it to the end." He'd been just as devastated by the loss of each baby, but had tried to remain strong for her sake. He cou
ldn't imagine what it was like for her, and could tell it was far more like some part of herself had died each time.
She nodded, squeezing his hand again.
"Tosia hath made great progress," she noted, obviously changing the subject. "Most of Zared's madness hath fallen away from them now."
Jerai nodded. He knew she kept her head up and gave a strong appearance out in public and he'd been the only one to see her fully collapse into grief. "Which is going to leave us with a lot of unbonded horses here."
"We may need their numbers even without riders," she reminded him. "We doth not all have Tosia's and Jaron's strength of bond, but we can each direct a number in a charge." Brother and sister, Jaron and Tosia were well known for their abilities to bond and train the Dwellers' horses, though Tosia's abilities far exceeded her brother's.
"The bond between them that Tosia's creating will help, too," Jerai mentioned. He watched as the mare finally lifted her head, shaking her dark mane and snorting as Tosia reached up to run her hand down the mare's neck. With another toss of her mane, the mare turned and trotted back to the other Dweller's horses in the corral.
"That doth take care of all here, My Lord," Tosia said, turning to Jerai. She bowed her head to Siara. "My Lady," she greeted her.
"Lady Tosia," Siara bowed her head in return.
"Mo'ani said they still had some on the south end they were having to keep corralled," Jerai told Tosia. "But I think that's the last of them that you'll need to help with. We'll try to find people who can take a few more trainer's bonds to get these finished." Just to keep anything else from happening to the horses, once their minds were cleared, the Dwellers and Mo'ani who were able to bond had been making light trainer's bonds with them so they'd feel if anything else happened.
Tosia nodded. "I shall head that way then," she said, turning to leave.
Jerai looked back at the horses in the corral and sighed. "I can't help but wonder how my father would have handled this," he said.
"Lord Othon would be proud of thee, Jerai," Siara said. "Thy father held thee in high regard."
Jerai chuckled. "You and I both know that's not entirely true," he told her. "I was never quite what he expected me to be."
Siara looked up at him. "Thy heart is Dweller, and thy every thought is to provide for our people and keep our way protected. Perhaps thy decisions are not what thy father's would have been, but they are thine own, and we are all proud to call thee our lord."
"Then why do I really just want to go saddle Aloyse and head south to help Nahtan?" he asked her.
"Because he is thy friend," she smiled at him. "And he faces great obstacles, so thy thoughts are to offer aid."
Jerai paused for a minute. "No, my thoughts are to go kill people," he admitted. "We could have lost everything, Siara. If Jaron and I hadn't figured out what that bond was and Tosia hadn't come north with Mo'ani--" he didn't bother finishing the sentence. The damage the horses could have done to their ranches and each other would have been devastating and possibly forced the Dwellers to have to destroy every horse they had that was affected. It would have taken them generations to recover the herds, if they were even able to.
Siara leaned against him, an uncharacteristic show of affection for out where others could see. He was kind of surprised she was still holding his hand.
"Which is why thou art a good lord, Jerai," she told him. "Our herds are safe now, because of thy decision to take them from our valley and bring them south. No other lord in our history hath ever brought the whole of our herds so far at one time."
Jerai looked down at her. "I did have the help of all of our cavalries and the Mo'ani in the valley," he reminded her. "You make it sound like I brought them all myself."
Siara smiled. "We doth know that," she agreed. "But I suspect history may forget for convenience."
"Then I'm ordering history not to," he stated.
"If only history were so willing a mistress," she smiled.
Five - "That does change things"
"Not the best odds I've seen," Calan said. "But I've played worse."
"But did ye win?" Kenah asked him. They were sitting on their horses, just to the side of the road leading to Basiyr. Garren and Korrie were a short distance behind them, arguing about something. As they'd drawn closer, they could see that Thorvald had moved what remained of his armies outside the city. The camp stretched for a ways around the city's walls, but wasn't as heavily manned as Calan would have expected. He doubted Thorvald had more than a couple thousand men there.
The gates were still open, allowing people to come and go, but everyone entering or exiting the city was being stopped and questioned and any packs were being searched by guards at numerous checkpoints.
"Sometimes," Calan shrugged, in answer to her question. He glanced back at Garren and Korrie. "I don't suppose you know what's gotten into them all of a sudden?" This was the first time he had seen them arguing, and it looked like it was becoming rather heated with neither one about to back down.
Kenah looked back at them for a minute, then seemed to consider Calan. "I might," she admitted.
"Considering I need to figure out how to get her into that city, this really isn't the time for secrets," Calan pointed out. He turned his horse and spurred it back to join Garren and Korrie. "What's going on?" he asked. "You two have been going at it for an hour now."
"Nothing," Korrie said, giving Garren a deliberate look. Calan recognized her tone immediately. He'd heard it enough from his barmaids when they'd been arguing with customers and he'd had to order them back to work.
"He needs to know," Garren told her.
"Garren, no," she told him. Calan could hear an almost desperate tone to her voice. "You've helped me enough, I can do this."
"Korrie, if there's something Garren feels could have an impact on everyone getting out alive, I need to know what it is," Calan told her. "I need to be able to plan for any problem."
"There's no problem," she assured him.
"Korrie--" Calan could see now why Garren had been arguing with her.
"She can't read," Kenah said. When Korrie gave her a shocked look, Kenah shrugged. "He needs to know," she told her. "His Majesty sent ye to get battle plans, but ye won't be able to read what they are to know if ye're gettin' the right ones."
"I've been teaching her," Garren said to Calan. "We've been working on it every night since leaving Edgewind and while we ride. She's picked up the basics and she's doing okay, but I don't think she knows enough to find the detailed things Nahtan will want, and I won't let him lock her up or scare her like that again."
Calan stared at them. "That's what you've been doing every night when you two go off alone and hide?" he asked.
"Yeah," Garren nodded, his tone confused.
"It's embarrassing," Korrie told him, her voice defeated. "I didn't want anyone to know, so Garren's been trying to teach me in private."
Calan chuckled. They all thought Korrie had been corrupting Garren, when he'd been the one trying to help her. Kenah leaned over and smacked his arm, frowning at him.
"Please don't laugh," Korrie said. He could see her visibly withdrawing.
"Oh, no, Korrie," Calan smiled at her. "I'm not laughing at you at all. Nahtan's been ranting and griping for weeks thinking you two were, well..." he shrugged and left the sentence unfinished. Korrie's eyes widened slightly while Garren suddenly looked uncomfortable. "So Nahtan doesn't know?" he continued, changing the subject before they got too uncomfortable. He could tell immediately that level of intimacy was a point their relationship hadn't come close to reaching.
"He knows," Korrie told him. "He figured it out when Lady Takis first arrested me and brought me back to his camp."
"He knew you couldn't read and still ordered you to go steal battle plans?" Calan shook his head. They'd seen Nahtan's progression down into his uncontrollable rage, but he hadn't realized it would go so far as to send Korrie to do something that would have been almost impossible.
&
nbsp; Korrie nodded her head.
"She's goin' to need help," Kenah told Calan.
"That she is," he agreed with her. "And that does change things." He turned and looked back at the distant walls of the city, considering their options. Thorvald would likely be inside the city, where it would be safest, sending any orders out with messengers and minor officers. There would be a central tent here outside the city, though, that they'd be using to disseminate the orders to where they needed to go. Getting to the tent would require getting through the army, but getting to the city would involve being questioned and searched.
"What are ye thinkin'?" Kenah asked him after a minute.
"We could get you three into the city without too much trouble," Calan replied. "But my sword's going to attract attention and raise questions. They're doing too thorough of searches at the gates of anyone coming or going." His eyes moved over the army in the distance again. He figured they were about two and a half days ahead of Nahtan, so they didn't have a whole lot of time to waste coming up with a drawn out plan, but did have a little time that they didn't have to rush and risk making a mistake. He turned back to look at the others. "Kenah and Korrie, you two stay here. Garren and I are going to go find a patrol to relieve of their armor and cloaks."
"I can sneak into the city," Korrie told him. "You three can wait out here."
"And then have to guess if you're looking at the right plans?" Garren asked her. It was obvious from his tone this was what their argument had been about.
"You're not sneaking in alone," Calan ordered her, his voice firm enough it stopped her argument immediately. He looked at Kenah. "Make sure Miss Korrie doesn't try to run off, please, m'lady," he told her. "We'll be back as soon as we can."
Kenah nodded and motioned for Korrie to follow her further back down the road. Calan and Garren turned and rode ahead a bit further, only dismounting and leading their horses when they got close enough it might draw attention to be seen riding.
Basiyr: Chronicles of Nahtan: Book 6 (The Herridon Chronicles) Page 8
