Thrall's Wine

by Hausladen, Blake;

  I feigned to grab him. He withdrew a pace and missed the dagger as it fell. It clattered to the ground, and the room erupted. I struck Chad upon the jaw with the heavy wine bottle, his head snapped around, and he went down.

  His retainers started forward, daggers free. My unassuming bodymen leapt from the sides of the room and were upon them at once with daggers of their own. I flung my wine bottle into the face of the one who got by them, and my staff sergeant buried his dagger in the man’s chest. A troop of greencoats poured in, and the rest met their end upon sharp spears.

  “Company, phalanx forward, on the quick,” a voice cried beyond as a rush of hooves filled our ears.

  “Loose!” Came the call, followed by the sharp smack of bowstrings from the gatehouse above.

  I turned to Detree. “If you are going to make a try for the bounty on me as well, now is the best chance you will ever get.”

  He laid his hands upon the table.

  I stepped away from them, retrieved my heavy sword, and took hold of Chad Raydau by the hair. I brought my blade down on his neck, and the sharp edge hacked straight through and into the turf. The weak-kneed Cynt gasped and wept as Chad’s blood arched brightly toward them.

  Bloody sword in hand, I took hold of a decanter of wine and drank deeply. My starved guts bloomed with warmth and wild love.

  Detree said, “Olum Raydau will send every man he has at you.”

  “At us. You are in it now,” I said, walked around the table, and poured the wine wildly across the Cynt’s cups, hands, and laps. I waved my sword at them until they raised their cups. “To your health, sirs.”

  They sipped in silence.

  I laughed at them, gulped the rest down, and tossed the decanter onto the table.

  “Get these women safely inside the palisade,” I said to my sergeant, snatched up Chad’s head, and made my way outside.

  The battle was already joined. Captain Lenum’s company of Tracians had routed off his line of pickets without putting up much of a fight, but had delayed the Raydau’s attack as required. My greencoats had formed up below the palisade with shields and spears aimed well.

  On the slope between the abandoned picket and my wall of spears was a swarm of scrubby Raydau cavalry and infantry. They carried long thin spears and short bows and were struggling to bring their weight to bear up the hill. They’d expected to charge in behind their lord unopposed. A fresh flight of Chaukai arrows stabbed down at them and scattered the horse archers trying to take shots at my phalanx.

  I stepped through the ranks and out into the open toward the approaching infantry. “You’re not soldiers. You’re children. You left your lord to die!” I bellowed and held their lord’s head high.

  The Raydau roared and charged. Their infantry arrived in ones and twos at first. I threw the bloody head at the first brute forward and hacked him to the ground. The next man tried a thrust of spear. I smashed the weapon to the ground and opened his face with a backhanded swipe.

  “Come and kill me!” I screamed at the rest. They surged up toward me, and a charge of Chaukai spears met them head on. The collision left the ground littered with scrubby Raydau. They fell back from us, and arrows began to stab up and down the hill.

  “More of them, sir!” a lieutenant called. Upon the far hill, a fresh body of levies, 7,000 thousand strong had emerged from the trees. An arrow smacked off the lieutenant’s helmet, and another killed the man standing next to him. “Sir, we must withdraw.”

  “From these fools? They have no fight in them,” I said and took the fallen greencoat’s shield.

  34

  Boatswain Soma O’Nropeel

  The 18th of Spring, 1196

  I could see Captain Etchpay’s frown from four boat-lengths astern of the Phalia as the stiff northeasterly pushed us up the Oreol coast. My drum was quiet, and the men were all below to hide their numbers and stay out of the sun. The prelate’s ship was ahead of us and farther landward, enjoying both the shallower drafts close in as well as the protection afforded by the pennant she flew. The rest of our little navy was far to seaward—11 thin ships and 600 volunteers.

  It was the 18th of Spring, we were just down the coast from Osburth, and the chance to break for open water was all but gone.

  “Must we follow her all the way in?” Helmsman Rindsfar asked from his place next to me at the tiller. Mercanfur was forward, so the pair of us were alone. The helmsman continued to speak his mind. “Half the crew has been bragging on how much loot they will take, but they are fools if they think we can sack Osburth. How many ships did Etchpay say the Raydau have? Forty? Any three of them could make a mess of us. Why did we have to do this in the first place?”

  “The church holds too much sway,” I told him. “If Arilas Vlek had refused, the priest could have charged him with sedition on the spot.”

  “How is it better if we attack Osburth?” he asked. “Doesn’t that put us all in trouble with the church?”

  “Only if we lose. Prince Barok is lord of these lands, and all its priests will answer to Enhedu’s prelate just as soon our pennant flies along these shores. All will be forgiven then.”

  Rindsfar had more to say, but the admiral started back toward us. “Anything?” he called up the mast.

  The lookout kept quiet a long moment before saying down, “No Raydau ships anywhere, Admiral. Osburth is dead ahead and just as quiet as the sea.”

  “No ships out at all? The tide should have fishers going out, at least.”

  “No, Admiral. The piers are lined with ships, but none are making way.”

  “Any sign of bad weather?” Mercanfur asked, though his view on deck was just as good for judging an answer to that question.

  “No, Admiral. All is clear. No reason for them to be ashore as far as I can see.”

  No one had an explanation for it, and we were left to enjoy the view of the rolling hills beyond the approaching town and the sharp horn of Mount Wedd behind them. A hazy smudge of smoke drew my eyes to a shape that was far too regular for those flowing hills.

  “There, a palisade.” As I said it, a great feeling of dread dragged through me, and I had to take hold of the drum stand. I was dreaming with my eyes open. I was angry. She was angry! The Spirit of the Earth was wet with the blood of Her Chaukai. “Oh no! Oh no!” I screamed.

  “Boatswain, what is it?” Mercanfur asked.

  The brief contact receded and left me numb. I struggled to stay upright. “It’s General Mertone. They are attacked. Our men are dying up there.”

  Lieutenant Kennculli was before me the next instant. His hand flexed upon the pummel of his sword. “Tell me everything.”

  I struggled to make sense of Her brief touch. “Something is wrong. Leger … his head is full of screams. So much sorrow. They are outnumbered.”

  “Every rotting Raydau in the Oreol must be up there,” Mercanfur said. “Osburth is undefended.” He rushed forward. His great voice crackled like thunder. Men rushed up from below, oars went out, and my drums beat at the quick. The half sail was lowered to full, and pennants went up the halyard. Etchpay and the rest acknowledged the order.

  “All ships, best speed, landward,” was the three-pennant signal to the trailing Heneuran ships. I could see Mercanfur’s plan, and I approved. Our line would bring us into Osburth behind the prelate’s ship, masking us long enough, perhaps, that we could be inside the harbor and ashore before Osburth knew to defend itself. Mercanfur meant to take the town.

  The town slid into view as we raced in close behind the prelate’s tall lanteen. I caught a cheer from ashore.

  My husband came up then and looked around with alarm. “Are we attacked already?”

  “No. Osburth emptied to fight General Mertone. We are going to make them pay.”

  “Yes, let’s,” he said and glared across at the prelate’s ship. His face twitched. It was ugly.

  The priest’s ship began taking in the sail. Mercanfur shouted forward to the nearby Phalia, we turned away from the prelate,
across the top of the pier, and circled toward an empty mooring.

  I said to Sevat, “Best ask the sergeant for a sword, dear. We’ll be tied on in a moment.”

  He did so, and I searched the deck to be sure Pix hadn’t come up. I half expected to find her at the rail with a spear, but she’d obeyed my wishes.

  Mercanfur took in his sails as we jibed, and our speed paid off as we swung all the way around. He brought us in almost too quick, and our prow banged once noisily upon the pier. Farther along, Etchpay was already hauling himself in. The rails of both ships were packed with men. The rest of the fishers were in the harbor behind us, their oars churning the calm waters as they raced along.

  The prelate’s ship was tied on, and he and his wife had made it down a gangway to greet a set of officious men. All were looking toward us, quite startled. Lady Jayme’s eyes met mine, and the Shadow swelled around her.

  She pointed at our men climbing over the rail. The lieutenant fell to the deck, and in quick succession, a score more greencoats clattered down.

  She was a singer like Geart, and the touch of her magic was horrible. Prelate O’Nberneil rose up next to her and looked ready to start singing as well. The rest of the men along our rail hesitated and took a step backward. Dockhands started toward us. All they would have to do is roll our men into the sea.

  “Get ‘em!” Sevat yelled, sudden and savage, his voice the very bark of Heneur. He lifted his borrowed sword overhead and leapt over the side. The sailors roared and charged after him.

  The priest’s magic was even better than his wife’s. One man after another fell. Sevat charged straight in as men collapsed all around him. The priest’s song missed him, and with a great chop, Sevat hewed opened his cheek and neck. Rindsfar was in behind him, and the pair hacked at the dockhands and the prelate’s crew. Others of our crew joined them, at last, and the tide of the bloody little battle turned. The dockhands fled. Sevat got hold of Lady Jayme and threw her hard over the edge of the pier. She struck the side of the ship and fell like a stone.

  The pier was ours—but at what cost?

  “Admiral, the men?” I shouted.

  “Asleep,” he said from where he stood over Lieutenant Kennculli and gave the lad a sharp slap. He came awake with an oath and growl. I helped them wake the others, and while they recovered, Lukan and his flotilla of fishers began to tie on around us. The loyal men of Heneur poured ashore. The lieutenant sent most of the Chaukai up the pier under the command of his senior sergeant, and gave himself and the rest the task of keeping me safely aboard.

  Osburth was still quiet.

  “Come on, men,” the Chaukai sergeant called then, and led the charge into the unsuspecting town. A bell rang weakly from a distant watchtower but stopped as if the men there decided to run.

  Bedlam followed. Torches were lit and smoke began to rise from all over the town as its buildings were looted and struck. The desperate townspeople took what they could carry and fled out across the pastures. They easily outnumbered us, but they knew only the sound of screaming and the smell of smoke.

  I looked out toward the hills. Leger and his men were just behind the first rise—desperate and dying. We need to help them.

  The smoke!

  “They can see the smoke,” I shouted. “Burn it! Burn Osburth to the ground. Let the Raydau know they are attacked from behind.”

  The message carried into the town. The flames rose, and a great smear of black smoke cut across the sky. Farther down the pier, some of the Heneurans had returned to start taking the Raydau’s ships.

  I looked across at the prelate’s tall lanteen—at my lanteen.

  “Lieutenant,” I said. “I’m taking her. Any objection?”

  “None,” he replied instantly—eager, perhaps, to make up for falling prey to magic.

  “Very well. Leave someone to gather up my possessions and get them and my daughter across.”

  We crossed the bloody scene of the battle and just beat a trio of Heneuran men up the gangway who’d had the same idea. “Find another,” I told them. They moved on, and I left a man to guard the gangway before going below with the rest.

  The ship’s external beauty did not extend inside. It was built to take cargo, and every space was stacked with sacks. The thick scent of the cocoa was intoxicating. The wardroom aft was large and luxurious, with colorful cushions upon the walls, floor, and chairs.

  “Soma,” someone called, and I made my way along the narrow space between the sacks to a hold filled with crates. The lieutenant was there with another man, and they had opened a pair of them. One crate contained a brand new breastplate packed in straw. The other held a trio of owl-eyed Hessier helmets. The lieutenant said to me, “Not just cocoa in here, ma’am. What were they playing at?”

  “Secure those,” I said. “And not a word to anyone about this. We need to get these back to Enhedu.”

  “There is enough here to equip a hundred Hessier,” he said. “We need to warn Leger.”

  I could only nod and led them back up. Up on deck a guardsman struggled across with my luggage, and Pix stood above the stowed yard and canvas of the ship’s long lanteen. Her smile was as bright as the sun.

  “She’s beautiful, mother,” she said. “Can I name her?”

  “You’ll not think the same of her guts,” I said, but she was only interested in my answer. I had no choice but to agree. She clapped her hands and wrapped me in a tremendous hug. She did not seem to mind at all that her thin shoes were soaked in the blood she’d had to cross to get aboard.

  “The Grace then, mother. She shall be called the Grace.”

  “A fine name, dear,” I said and hurried forward as Lieutenant Kennculli waved me toward the rail.

  The pier was something out of a dream. The men of Heneur were returning to the ship with everything they could cart and carry. A dozen ships had already been taken, and an enterprising man had organized work crews that raced goods out of nearby warehouses and onto the ships.

  Bohn pointed me toward the distant hills. A body of riders crossed toward the town. “We don’t have long.”

  A wagon rolled noisily down the pier toward us. Mercanfur drove it, and his crew trailed behind with handcarts and wheelbarrows full of all manner of things.

  “Boatswain,” he greeted me with a savage smile. “You took her. I was hoping you’d get her. Fantastic.”

  “Named her the Grace,” I said. “I’ll need a crew.”

  “You’ll have one,” he said. “Any room for cargo below?”

  “None. You’ll have to fit it aboard the Thorne. Have you seen Sevat?”

  “That’s him there,” he said and indicated the crew boss in front of the warehouse. “He and Lukan’s captains are taking everything not nailed down. They found salt and—”

  “Save the details. The Raydau are rallying.”

  “Leger has been relieved?”

  I tried to get a glimpse of them. All I got was a dull feeling of ache. “They are wounded, but alive. We did it, I think. The Raydau have withdrawn.”

  “Fantastic!” he growled. “Let us be away then.”

  I nodded, and he raced to get the many ships underway. Impromptu captains began to call out for crews. Mercanfur gave me a third of his plus all the greencoats. One ship after another got underway as the angry voices of the returning townspeople grew louder and louder. The Grace was ungainly, but we managed to shove off. Mercanfur was the last still tied on. He and his crew were all hollering for a last few stragglers to run for it. I heard a laugh and spotted Sevat leap aboard the Thorne. I couldn’t catch his eye, but I’d not seen him so happy in years.

  I turned from them and worked to get my ship under way. I was glad to see Rindsfar at the tiller. The harbor’s broad entrance was a mess of ships, and it would be a miracle that no one collided or went aground. I was startled to find Pix on deck with the Vlek girls, hauling on the ropes with the rest to raise the heavy yard and sail. More than that, Pix was calling the heave.

  �
��One, and two, and heave,” she called again and again, earning with each a great pull of rope and hoist of yard and canvas.

  The sight stopped me cold. Where had my little girl gone? I felt for a moment like I’d lost her, too. The girl I’d held just days before in my arms had been so small, hadn’t she? All three of them looked ready to take on the world.

  “Signal from the Thorne,” my lookout called. “We’re to make for Enhedu.”

  “And the rest?” I asked.

  “The Phalia and Thorne are making the turn north as well. Looks like the rest are heading back to Lindrig. A couple of the crews are having a tough go of it, but it seems we made it away clean with every ship in the harbor.”

  Work aboard the Grace came to a halt as everyone celebrated the news. I got ready to do my first bit of yelling as a captain, but Mercanfur had given me his best men. They all got back to work before I got the chance.

  One of the Chaukai sergeants caught my eye. I joined him at the forward rail and followed his troubled gaze to a lone man beyond the walls of the burning town. I could not get a good look at him through the smoke, but he seemed to be a priest.

  “Who is that?”

  “That would be our lieutenant,” he said. “He got it in his head that he could sneak across to Leger disguised as a priest. I told him not to, but he wouldn’t listen. He worships Leger, that one.”

  “Can he make it?”

  “I have no idea. Osburth will be looking for blood. I fear for him.”

  The swirling smoke hid Lieutenant Kennculli from us, and there was nothing more to say. I blew the lad a kiss and told the sergeant to get his men to the ropes or below. They were crowding my deck.

  35

  Crown Prince Evand Yentif

  The Warming Days of Spring, 1196

  The Hemari love the open roads of the Kaaryon, which is to say that we were very well contented. We’d emerged from the sweaty groin of the world that was the Red Maple Swamps on the 19th of Spring and settled back into the rhythm of road and camp that made men and horses stronger. My brigade was clean, dry, and fed. The winds began to blow warmer, and the farmers were out in the fields. It was Bayen’s heaven upon earth, and so much so, that even the sight of Gheem and my aging cousin was like a homecoming.