Artesans of Albia

by Cas Peace

  Anjer studied her before turning back to Vanyr. “Commander, I suggest you spend more time in practice if you are mistiming strokes.” Vanyr clenched his fist on the hilt of his sword, but Anjer didn’t notice. “Go about your duties, man.”

  Vanyr turned on his heel and stalked away. The pirates stared angrily after him. Jay’el came forward and slung Sullyan’s cloak about her shoulders, keeping her heated body from chilling with the shock and freezing wind. Robin put his arm about her and led her away, Anjer falling into step beside them.

  The Lord General accompanied them back to their suite and sat waiting while Robin and Sullyan saw to the cleaning and dressing of her wound. By expending power between them they had it half-healed already. The dressing was mainly for protection. Sullyan stripped off her shirt and breeches, which were damp from perspiration, and quickly washed. Dressed in a clean white shirt and plain black breeches, she joined Robin and Anjer by the fire. Robin handed her the fellan he knew she would need. Anjer frowned as he saw how shaky her grip was.

  “I’ll have Vanyr’s miserable hide for this,” he growled.

  Sullyan hadn’t spoken since the incident. She suddenly rounded on Anjer, startling both him and Robin. “My Lord, did you give orders to the men that I was to be protected?”

  Anjer flushed and had the grace to look away. “We—that is, Pharikian and I—were concerned for you, Brynne. It was to prevent just such an occurrence that we did it. We didn’t want you exposed to unnecessary risks.”

  Her heart pounded with anger. “As you can see, it worked very well!”

  Robin shot Anjer a look. The Lord General wasn’t sure quite how to deal with this. Sullyan, however, wasn’t finished.

  “For nearly twenty-four years I have relied on my own skills and strengths, my Lord. I am well used to protecting myself. I neither want nor need your interference. I am fully aware that you are more concerned for the wellbeing of the Hierarch’s Champion rather than Brynne Sullyan, but you will do me the courtesy of allowing me to worry about my preparations for the day.”

  Anjer’s flush deepened and he began to protest, but Sullyan continued furiously.

  “I will decide what I need and will conduct what is left of my life as I choose. When I need your intervention or protection, my Lord, I hope I shall have the sense to ask for it. Until that time, pray keep out of my affairs!”

  She turned abruptly and sank into one of the easy chairs by the fire. Her hand shook as she downed her fellan. Anjer remained silent, clearly taken aback by her outburst. Robin, who was used to her temper, gestured for the huge man to wait. They sat in awkward silence.

  After a few minutes, Sullyan sighed.

  “Gentlemen, my apologies. Lord General, I ask your pardon. I did not mean to speak so harshly. It is not easy being a woman among so many men, and I do not take kindly to cosseting.”

  Anjer gave a rueful smile. “So I see. I will remember that in future.” He leaned forward. “How’s the arm?”

  She grimaced. “Two days should see it right. We are not likely to encounter Rykan before then, I think.” She raised her eyes to his. “My Lord, it might be politic not to mention this incident to the Hierarch. I do not want to worry him.”

  Anjer’s expression was grim. “I doubt I’d have to mention it to him. There were too many witnesses for it to remain a secret. Your … seamen in particular were most displeased. But that aside, there was a reason why I sought you out. There’s been news from Ephan. Our forces have successfully brought Rykan’s troops to a halt and have engaged them directly. The units sent round to the rear of the columns have encountered fierce opposition in one particular spot. Their commanders have reported seeing some of Rykan’s personal guard among the defenders, but there’s still been no sign of the man himself. It seems we were right, Brynne. The Duke of Kymer is skulking at the rear, protected by his elite guard. He has no intention of showing himself before he’s ready.”

  Sullyan’s heart fell and she bowed her head. She had been hoping desperately that Marik wouldn’t need to endanger himself to flush Rykan out. She was very much afraid now that he would.

  Later that evening, the Hierarch, the Lord General, Sullyan, Robin, and Marik gathered in one of Pharikian’s private drawing rooms to discuss Marik’s best strategy. The Count was eager to play his part, but Sullyan pleaded caution, begging him not to put himself in any unnecessary personal danger.

  Marik shrugged. “But in order to be effective, Sullyan, I’ll have to place myself right under his nose. Otherwise he’ll just send out his elite guard rather than coming after me himself.”

  Sullyan glanced at Anjer. “My Lord, I have a suggestion. If we keep up the current pressure on Rykan’s front lines, drawing them on toward the Plains, the rearguard will move forward also so as not to be separated.”

  Anjer nodded. “Of course.”

  “Then I think we should deliberately try to separate them.”

  He cocked his head, considering.

  “My Lord, the units sent to the rear of Rykan’s columns should move up to the point of fiercest resistance. Our right and left flanks would then coordinate to pinch the column between them, as if attempting to sunder Rykan from the rest of his command. Such tactics would surely force the Duke to act.”

  Marik butted in. “Yes! And once the movement’s begun, my men can become the wedge in the break, so to speak, driving in as if trying to herd Rykan away from the bulk of his troops. If I let myself be seen, that should get his attention.”

  Sullyan added, “And if our forces keep harrying the main column, drawing them onward, the Duke will want to deal swiftly with Marik so he can rejoin his men.”

  Anjer frowned. “But what if the separation ploy fails? What if Rykan refuses to chase the Count?”

  Sullyan shrugged. “He will not refuse, my Lord. He was so enraged on discovering my disappearance and Marik’s defection that he almost put off mobilizing his troops in order to give chase. It was fortunate that he did not, for there were only seven of us and I was no use at that time.”

  Pharikian leaned forward. “Seven? Your other friends did not stay with you, then?”

  She closed her eyes against the pain of the memory, thinking especially of Bull and Rienne. “I thought it best that they return to Albia. We did not know what we would find when we got here.”

  “A pity. I would have liked to meet them. You must miss them.”

  “I am happier knowing they are safe. My Captain keeps them informed, and he will return to them once this is over.”

  Anjer folded his arms and leaned back. “Very well, Brynne. I will communicate with Ephan and order the units sent to the rear of Rykan’s lines to begin a pincer movement designed to separate his column of troops. Kryp will take control of the forces engaging the front of the column and step up the pace, drawing them on toward the Plains. Count Marik and his men will attempt to slip around Rykan’s flanks and coordinate with Ephan, driving into the breach made by Ephan’s units while ensuring that Rykan sees who is responsible. Marik will then run for the Plains, hopefully drawing Rykan with him. Once he’s in the open, Ephan and Kryp will pull back, allowing the split forces to rejoin. This tactic should fool Rykan into thinking he still commands superior numbers. Only when it’s too late will he see our full complement of troops, ranged on the Citadel Plains. He will realize he’s been matched in strength, and once he understands he can’t win, he’ll be forced to capitulate.”

  Sullyan nodded. “That is the trickiest part. As formal challenger, Rykan must either defeat his opponent or withdraw his challenge. Only by a withdrawal will the Crown be free to challenge on its own behalf.”

  The discussions over, Sullyan didn’t stay to see the Count depart. Exhausted by her concern for Marik, her earlier exercise, and the shock of Vanyr’s malice, she retired early. On entering their apartment she surprised Robin by not bathing, as she had done every evening since their arrival at the Citadel. Instead, she went straight to her rest. He followed and held he
r close while she slept, trying not to worry over what the next few days would bring.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  As his horse followed Bull’s onto the crest of the small hill, Taran finally had his first view of the Citadel and its surrounding Plains. It was an hour before noon and the day, although cold and frosty, was bright with sunlight from a pale blue sky. The horses’ breath plumed in the air before them and their coats steamed faintly. Taran, with Bull to his left and Cal and Rienne to his right, sat gazing across the few miles separating them from Sullyan and Robin. It might as well have been hundreds, he thought, for all the chance there was of crossing them.

  Bull roused himself. “Yes, this is the place Robin showed me. He said the fighting’s been contained in those forests over there,” he pointed eastward, “but now they’re hoping to draw Rykan onto the Plains. We won’t be able to see the finer details from here, but if the Hierarch’s challenge is successful and Sullyan has to confront Rykan, we should be able to link with Robin and watch from his perspective.”

  Rienne paled at the thought of Sullyan meeting Rykan, and Bull hurried on.

  “I suggest we set up camp and make ourselves as comfortable as possible. We’ll need to post watches. Although the burden of scouting for the enemy will be taken by me and Taran, we must all be vigilant. Rykan’s men are the main threat, of course, but I don’t want to be found by the Hierarch’s either. That would be highly embarrassing. I can just imagine what the Major would say if we were escorted in under armed guard.”

  Even Rienne smiled at that, and although Taran knew Bull was serious, the humor lightened the tension. He had expected to feel better once they arrived at their destination, yet he was actually feeling more restive. Knowing they were so close to Sullyan yet still unable to help her was galling. He suddenly noticed Rienne staring at him and wondered if the empathic healer had caught an echo of his thoughts. He shivered and she looked away. Taran didn’t mention it to her. There really wasn’t any point. Instead, he busied himself seeing to his horse. There would be time for reflection later.

  As soon as the basic tasks were done—horses picketed and fed, latrine sited, fire started—Bull asked Taran to help search the woods around the campsite. Taran readily agreed. Using their metasenses, both men made sweeps of the area. Neither found signs of recent activity by either faction, although there were indications that patrols from the Citadel had passed that way before the war began. It was, after all, one of the obvious routes to the few small villages close by. Taran had learned that the majority of the population lived further northwest. According to Robin, and fortunately for the locals, Rykan’s troops were concentrated in the Haligan Forest to the east, which was largely uninhabited save for some charcoal burners’ and hunters’ huts.

  Bull set about showing his companions how to make the camp, and their occupation of it, as invisible as possible. Everything was organized with a swift departure in mind, in case they should be discovered. He asked Cal to gather kindling and firewood and showed him how to store it so that it looked natural but was near enough to the fire to dry. Taran helped Rienne drag pine branches closer, for screening the fire as well as their sleeping places. The latrine was sited a good distance from the main camp, and there were plenty of dead leaves nearby to cover it. Such precautions wouldn’t fool a practiced eye looking for a camp, but they would be effective against any locals brave enough to come foraging this way.

  Once the watches were organized, Bull asked Cal to take his crossbow and go hunting. The young man went on foot and returned an hour later, just as the last light was draining from the sky. He had managed to bag a couple of the small wild pigs that roamed the woods. That amount of meat would last them some time. Each of them had brought a fair amount of dried fruit, cheese, and some corn meal in their saddlebags. Bull wasn’t anticipating being there for more than a few days, so Cal’s contribution ought to see them through.

  Taran took their water jars down to the stream running not far from the bottom of the hill. It was frozen over, but he found a deeper section where the ice was thin, the water flowing just fast enough to resist the freeze. He broke through and filled the jars, trusting that the ice would reform overnight.

  Once Bull was satisfied with their precautions, he advised Cal and Rienne to get some sleep. Then he joined Taran, who had drawn first watch, by the fire.

  “I’m going to try for contact with Robin before I sleep, Taran. Do you want to listen in?”

  The Adept nodded and melded his psyche with Bull’s once again. Robin noticed the big man’s questing thought almost immediately and indicated that it was safe for them to talk.

  What’s been happening, Robin?

  We’re entering the final stages now, Bull. Anjer’s best efforts to flush Rykan into the open have failed. The Duke’s hiding behind his commanders, letting them direct his men. Anjer doesn’t want to reveal his true strength, so he can’t send any more men to force Rykan out. He’s also worried that Rykan will find out on his own about the Hierarch’s extra troops. It would only take one quick-witted scout to evade Ephan’s patrols and discover the reserves. If Rykan realizes too soon that we’ve matched his numbers, he might decide to retreat, give himself time to come up with another strategy. It’s vital that he doesn’t learn he’s lost his advantage before he has committed to the final battle. If he does, our efforts will be wasted. I can’t imagine what that would do to Sullyan.

  Taran could clearly sense Robin’s distress and knew that Bull felt it too.

  So what about Marik? the big man asked.

  He’s our final arrow. He’s leaving tomorrow. All we can do is hope he succeeds.

  + + + + +

  The dawn light woke Sullyan as usual, and she and Robin breakfasted in their suite. They took their time. Neither felt like talking. After a while a page arrived, bringing an invitation from the Hierarch to join him and the Lord General on the battlements. Once they had bathed and Robin had changed the dressing on Sullyan’s arm, she opened the door and stepped out into the passage. She stopped, astonished to find both Almid and Kester stationed on either side of the door, looking as if they had been there all night.

  “Why—?” she began, but stopped short when she noticed the deep bruising on their faces and the bloody knuckles on their hands. With hard eyes she studied them, waiting for one of them to explain. Neither spoke. While she debated whether to press them, Ky-shan, Jay’el, and Ki-en arrived, all three also bearing the unmistakable signs of having been in a fight. The pirate leader grinned at Sullyan and nodded to the twins, both of whom left. It was so obviously a change of guard that Sullyan stared in exasperation. Ky-shan merely raised his brows, daring her to comment.

  She growled under her breath, “For the Void’s sake!” and stalked off, heading for the Palace Tower. Robin shook his head and fell into step beside her, the pirates shadowing them.

  When she reached the Tower roof, Pharikian and Anjer were already there. They were standing side by side, both gazing over the parapet down toward the lower town. Pharikian turned when he heard her approaching and held out his hand.

  “Come stand by me, Brynne. It’s nearly noon and Count Marik will soon be leaving with his men.”

  As she leaned on the parapet beside him, following his downward gaze, she saw the tiny figures moving around in front of the Citadel’s southern gates. Men and horses together; the sun glinting occasionally off harness and weapons. A brave sight, she thought.

  Anjer, on the other side of the Hierarch, turned to regard the pirates. None of them replied to the directness of his gaze, and Anjer’s brows drew down over his snapping black eyes.

  “Would those bruises and cuts have anything to do with why Commander Vanyr is unable to rise from his bed this morning?”

  Ky-shan shrugged. “I know nothing about Vanyr’s sleeping habits. Perhaps he isn’t as fit as he should be. Or maybe his little fencing session with Major Sullyan yesterday took more out of him than he thought.”

  Anjer open
ed his mouth, but then shut it again. His lips thinned and he shot Sullyan a look. She gazed back. There was nothing she could say. They both knew that once Ky-shan had set his course, nothing short of a full-blown gale would make him veer. He had clearly meted out his own form of justice, and she now had a bodyguard rather than companions. In the light of Vanyr’s malice, she didn’t feel like refusing them.

  Turning her back on Anjer’s irritation, she concentrated on the scene below. Another friend was about to hazard his safety, and she wasn’t sure how she would cope if he didn’t return. Her heart offered silent prayers to the gods.

  + + + + +

  Count Marik walked down to the lower town lighter of step than he had felt for years. No thoughts of death troubled his mind. He had absolutely no intention of sacrificing himself. Just an hour earlier he had taken an emotional farewell of the Princess Idrimar, and was still in a state of shock at finding that her feelings for him were not just a passing fancy. Indeed, he was having trouble coming to terms with his own emotions. He had been more than half in love with Sullyan for some years, despite knowing it was hopeless. His melancholy nature was well suited to thoughts of doomed love. Yet this love—the Princess’ love—might actually be attainable, and he was finding such good fortune hard to understand.

  When the Princess had waylaid him in the Palace, she had made it clear that she would not tolerate him dwelling on the past. He quickly understood that she was determined to have him when the war was over, and if in the meantime he covered himself with glory, well, so much the better. As he walked out into the sunlight with Idrimar’s blessings in his ears and her kisses on his lips, Marik’s soul soared like a tangwyr. Suddenly, he felt capable of achieving whatever his heart desired.

  On joining his small escort in the lower town, Marik mounted his horse. Followed by his men, he galloped through the Citadel’s southern gate. Cheers from the battlements sounded in his ears as he led his little company back toward the forest. Once under the trees, he quickly met up with Nazir and the remainder of his command. They were waiting for him where Anjer had told him they would be. They flocked around him, greeting him, eager to learn their orders. Marik explained the new strategy and the role they were to play.