Markan Sword

by Nicholas A. Rose

  Reach up, pull, push toes onto the ridge, push up on toes, turn foot, reach up with hand. Repeat.

  The occasional putlog granted temporary relief, as soreness built in her hands and feet. She hoped she left no smears of blue blood behind her. She had grown so soft over the years! Even those who had witnessed her worst behavior usually only saw a sylph.

  Some owners had spoiled her; Nijen da Re Taura had been especially indulgent.

  No, she must not think of him now. The pain of her loss always faded eventually. They all died in the end, from either old age, when her ownership passed to the oldest child, or from violence, when ownership would pass to the killer.

  But Nijen seemed to have a strong liking for sylphs. Even sylphs like Tektu. And there had also been Siaba. The pretty sylph scribe had died at Tektu's hand though, need driving her actions. If only she had managed to find Neptarik! Her present owner would be dead, and her last owner would still be alive. And she would never have needed to harm Siaba, one of the few Tektu had ever regarded with genuine friendship.

  Dead now, gone to whatever came next for the lower orders of life.

  Her temper simmered again and her pace up the wall increased. Suddenly, she reached the crenellations. She leaned through and carefully looked in both directions.

  Nobody.

  The city's buildings caused trouble now. Many overlooked the walls and, as the moon bathed the walkways in light, she had no way of remaining concealed.

  Hopefully, anybody looking out of her window would assume she was just a sylph sent on an errand. Or one of those strange things that always seemed to happen at night.

  Either way, the hard part lay behind her. She was in.

  ***

  Chapter 19

  Reversal Of Fortune

  Kelanus suddenly discovered another drawback of having only five sylph scouts. Quite simply, he didn't have enough of them to cover all five of his groups.

  When Eldovans, unannounced and unwelcome, suddenly smashed into his detachment of troops, he realized how utterly dependent on their reports he had become, and only having one sylph left large gaps in his outer defenses.

  Shyamon ran somewhere out on the left flank, too far away to report directly to Kelanus. The General had become complacent and forgotten that human scouts could not do the work as well as sylphs.

  "To me!" he bawled, reacting quickly as a deadly fall of arrows began to reduce his numbers.

  In fairness, the Eldovans under his command reacted immediately, forming two defensive squares. So far, no doubting their intention to hold firm, even if they must fight their own countrymen. The beginning of the battle did not concern Kelanus, but rather what might happen later on.

  Pikemen formed outer defensive squares, one surrounding the wagons and the other protecting Kelanus. Archers and cavalry formed inner squares, waiting for targets to present themselves.

  Rhythmic thudding of hooves heralded more cavalry, attacking both squares from all sides. Archers loosed arrows at the newcomers, renocking and loosing, again and again.

  Whips curled around the pikes, tearing them from the grip of those holding them in place. More cavalry pushed forward, exploiting the gaps.

  Kelanus looked down, saw Tula cowering with her hands over her ears, reached down and gripped her silver hair. Uncaring of her protests, he hauled her to her feet.

  "Is anybody whistling out there?" he yelled at her. "Tula!" He gave the infertile a small shake.

  The sylph came to her senses and her eyes abruptly focused again.

  "Is Shyamon whistling?" he demanded again. "Any of them?"

  Tula shook her head. Taved stepped forward and wrapped the sylph in his cloak, offering some protection.

  Kelanus snarled as more Eldovans piled into the defensive squares and drew his sword. Tula should be anywhere but in the middle of a battle, but he had nowhere to send the sylph for safety. Contact with an enemy sword jarred his arm, then the General began to fight for his life.

  Tahena! Was she safe?

  He must leave Tahena until later.

  More and more men piled into the melee. Kelanus cursed his oversight. He had expected to meet the enemy ahead and never considered that these Eldovans might find a gap to squeeze through at the rear.

  Where had they waited?

  How had they evaded the sylphs as five groups passed?

  Where were the bloody sylphs?

  A final jarring sensation and Kelanus's opponent fell from his horse. Sword dripping red, Kelanus turned, looking for his next victim.

  A new noise, somebody using a speaking trumpet.

  "Brother Eldovans! There is no need for you to die today. Put aside your arms, in Hingast's name."

  "Hold fast!" bawled Kelanus, who knew very well that the longer they kept fighting, the greater the chance that Mirrin or one of the other groups would come to their aid. How come nobody else had noticed yet?

  But then, the battle had raged for less than a minute.

  Speaking Trumpet Man repeated his message, entreating Mirrin's Eldovans to surrender and avoid unnecessary killing.

  "Archers!" shouted Kelanus, gesticulating with his sword. "Take that man out; put him down!"

  The amplified voice continued. "Eldovans, your Prefect needs you. Do not listen to the Markan poison. Put aside your weapons and return with honor."

  "Put him down!" repeated Kelanus, even as he slashed at another cavalryman who strayed too close. A useless clang on his armor, before both men spun away.

  Two minutes.

  Kelanus's square shrank with terrifying speed. Not just by deaths, but an increasing number of men listened to Speaking Trumpet Man, who repeated his words over and over. Cheers brought fresh hope until Kelanus realized they came from the men he fought.

  There were no reinforcements. The other square had surrendered and men who had kept their resolve until now, wavered as they eyed that square to see no slaughter, just men being disarmed and lined up.

  Kelanus glimpsed Tahena, a prisoner with the rest.

  "Surrender, and you will be spared!" Nobody had taken Speaking Trumpet Man down and he continued to make his promises.

  Men who faced death moments before, instead chose life.

  Kelanus knew this battle was over. Eldovan fighting Eldovan had clearly been too much to ask for. He became aware of a man roughly his age, helmet tucked under his arm, approaching carefully. Dark blue eyes regarded him expressionlessly. Kelanus took a square cloth and wiped his blade, before sliding off his horse.

  The other man came nearer and gave a small bow. "Lowst Adnan Irka," he said, formally. "Second General."

  "Kelanus Arus Butros." Kelanus offered his sword, hilt first. "Field Commander and General."

  "From Marka."

  "Frodger."

  Irritation, quickly suppressed, flickered in those dark blue eyes. "Working for Marka."

  Kelanus inclined his head.

  Lowst took Kelanus's sword and passed it to an assistant, before turning back. "When we dine tonight, you can explain why you have invaded my homeland."

  ***

  General Lowst took no chances, perhaps fearing a sudden reversal of fortune should Kelanus manage to persuade the Eldovans to rebel again. He separated the Markans from the returning Eldovans and ordered two men to watch them.

  Hanmer and Felis, disarmed, stood with Kelanus. The Markan yeoman's mouth twisted with distaste whenever he saw one of their former allies.

  "Told you: never trust an Eldovan," Hanmer growled, several times.

  Felis said nothing, but waited in silence.

  Now the battle was done, Tula's usual startled expression had replaced her earlier terror. Strangely, she remained close to Kelanus and refused to join her fellow Eldovans.

  The Eldovans who had formed Kelanus's group and survived the battle, kept their arms and armor. Split into smaller groups, they mingled with Lowst's men, despite the renowned contempt between Eldovans from the inner Prefecture and the outer Prefectures.
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  Once questioned, so Lowst could satisfy himself that these men really had marched under Mirrin and not been involved in Hingast's defeat at Kelanus's hands the previous year, the men were allowed to join with Lowst.

  "It's hard to fight your own countrymen," said Kelanus.

  "Lowst has made our task even harder," replied Hanmer. "We used the fear of what the Eldovans might do to returners to build our argument for replacing Hingast."

  "Lowst is one man," retorted Kelanus. "Just one man. Let's see what happens when we reach Eldova."

  "Is that where we're going?" asked Felis.

  Kelanus smiled. "It's certainly where Mirrin's going," he replied.

  "Can we now trust Mirrin?" muttered Hanmer.

  "Could we ever?" added Felis.

  Kelanus looked away from his companions and stared at the area where wounded men were tended together. Lowst's camp followers looked after them, and Tahena – allowed considerable freedom despite being a captive – healed those with the worst injuries.

  "If Mirrin is trustworthy, he will attack this army and take us back," said Hanmer. "Not that I'm expecting anything anytime soon."

  "Lowst will have scouts out." Felis shrugged. "Maybe Mirrin kept going."

  Kelanus said nothing at first, but neither did he share his yeoman's cynicism. If Mirrin had any sense at all, he would avoid fighting running battles all the way to the city. Kelanus could see no point in such attrition, especially as any captives would be treated well.

  "Mirrin and Janost will avoid fighting Eldovans if they can avoid it," said Kelanus, eventually. "That is sensible."

  "And part of your reserve plan?" asked Hanmer.

  Kelanus smiled and winked. "Part of my reserve plan," he admitted.

  "Why are they waiting here?" Hanmer grimaced at another Eldovan who strayed too close. "Bloody turncoats."

  Kelanus could see men digging a large pit. "We're waiting here to bury the dead," he said. Disappointment entered his voice. "Oh no."

  A man led a horse towards Lowst, but Kelanus had spotted a painted body, streaked with blue, slung across the animal. Tahena had also seen it and now veered across, ignoring a woman bustling after her, probably demanding she return to the injured soldiers.

  "That's Shyamon," said Kelanus.

  "I hope so," said Felis, craning his neck to ensure the sylph tied to the horse was not his Ean. He ignored the look Hanmer shot his way.

  The cavalryman with the horse untied the sylph from the horse, and the scout collapsed soundlessly to the ground.

  Lowst beckoned to Kelanus and he crossed the ground at a run.

  Kelanus looked down, relieved to see the sylph's chest rise and fall normally.

  "Shyamon-y-Pulista," said Lowst. "According to his collar. One of yours, I believe."

  Tahena reached the stricken scout at the same moment and laid her hands on him, gently probing for injuries.

  "What happened to him?" demanded Kelanus. "What did you do?"

  The man with the horse shrugged. "He ran, so we knocked him down."

  "We?"

  The man gestured towards the horse. Another sylph stood beside it. So Belaika had not been mistaken.

  Lowst smiled. "That one is definitely not one of yours."

  The sylph looked at Kelanus for a long moment, before melting away again, quickly out of sight as he returned to his duties.

  Shyamon coughed as he woke and gave Tahena a terrified look. His earpoints tucked away, then jerked upright. He sat up and felt himself carefully. Kelanus crouched beside him.

  "You all right?"

  Shyamon nodded and smiled thanks to Tahena.

  Kelanus turned his head. "You need to rest," he told her. His attention returned to the scout. "Keep quiet and tell them nothing," he whispered.

  Shyamon nodded again and closed his eyes.

  "I'll look after him," said Kelanus, before Lowst could say anything. "When we move on, do we get our horses?"

  Lowst nodded. "You do."

  ***

  That evening, Lowst entertained Kelanus and Tahena.

  Lowst's tent was hardly ostentatious, though the tapestries hung on every side gave it a certain homeliness. Large enough to accommodate a polished table for three diners, with room left over for men to move around it to serve. An infertile sylph sat crosslegged in one corner, a peculiar stringed instrument on her knee. The sounds it made were pleasant enough.

  Kelanus and Tahena exchanged a look as two soldiers showed them to their seats. Lowst stood politely, until his guests were seated.

  "Very impressive, at such short notice," said Kelanus. His gaze fixed on his sword and spyglass, in the exact center of the table.

  Lowst smiled, though his dark blue eyes remained watchful. "We must maintain the proper courtesies," he replied. "Rare for me to have company when in the field."

  "I suppose you don't invite your prisoners to dine every day," added Tahena.

  Lowst's smile for her was considerably warmer than for Kelanus. "That depends on the prisoner," he replied. "Rare for me to have one of the Gifted and a skilled General as guests."

  "I'm surprised the rest of my people didn't fall on you today," said Kelanus, fishing for information. He was anything but surprised, though he had no need to tell this man.

  Lowst raised an eyebrow. "Your people? They are Eldovans, even if outlandsmen. Hingast accuses the other group, those under his command you fought last year, of cowardice, desertion and treason. He is somewhat more tolerant of those you call yours. Now I've captured you, they must be considering their position. And I'm sure Hingast might reconsider his view of them once he knows they marched under your leadership."

  "They still outnumber you," pointed out Kelanus. "It's not too late for them to make your life very unpleasant."

  "Indeed." Lowst leaned back in his chair. "They, or at least their commanders, can guess what my orders are. But I assure you, Hingast is very keen to bring General Mirrin's men back to his side. And if not... Well, we'll see what he decides then. If I were them, I'd be trying to make up my mind how best to get myself back into Hingast's better graces."

  "Where are they now?"

  "Grouped together and still moving towards Eldova."

  At least they had not surrendered. Kelanus nodded as a soldier offered alovak. He inhaled its aroma deeply, before sipping at the black liquid. "Have they sent a messenger to you?"

  "Not yet. But my sylphs are still in contact and following their every move."

  Kelanus hoped his sylphs were being a sight more careful than Shyamon. "And do you plan to attack them again?"

  "Only if strictly necessary," replied Lowst. "I owe thanks to luck, rather than judgment, that I captured the real commander – you – first time."

  "Sometimes we make our own luck," admitted Kelanus, sourly.

  "Well, I never believed you would be with the central group." Lowst looked like he might start preening himself. "A tempting target, but a dangerous one."

  Kelanus managed a smile. "So, lucky you today." He lightly stressed "today".

  The same soldier returned to the tent and placed a bowl holding a nondescript brown liquid before each of them, together with sweet bread to mop it up.

  "Venison broth," explained Lowst.

  They ate in silence, until the man returned again to clear the bowls away. The sylph in the corner changed her music to something even more relaxing.

  "I am interested to learn," said Lowst, between dabbing at his lips with a square of cloth, "why you decided to invade my homeland in the first place. I would understand if you had a Markan army at your back, but with Eldovans?"

  "I'm here to end a duel that began in Sandester four years ago," replied Kelanus. "I brought Eldovans because I mean your country no harm."

  Lowst drained his alovak. "Care to explain further?"

  "The Hingast who returned to Eldova last year is not the Hingast who left," replied Kelanus.

  "Experience forces us all to adapt," smiled Lowst.
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br />   "There's adapting, and there's being replaced," said Kelanus.

  "Looks like the same man to me," retorted Lowst.

  Kelanus leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. "But he behaves differently," he said. "How many sylph hunts since his return? How many new Prefectures has he laid to waste? Where has his new found military skill sprung from? Does he listen to his advisors, when before he did not?"

  "Still looks and sounds like Hingast."

  "From your reaction," said Kelanus, "you are quick to understand what I'm talking about. Perhaps you have heard rumors?"

  "There are always rumors." Lowst shrugged. "But he even sounds the same man."

  "Voices can be trained, General," said Tahena. "And we believe the man pretending to be your monarch is a sorcerer."

  A discordant plunk came from the corner and Kelanus saw the infertile musician staring in wide-eyed silence at Tahena.

  "Believe is not proof, nor even evidence." Lowst turned his head. "Keep playing, Unnis."

  The sylph blinked, nodded, and bent her head over her instrument. Moments later, soothing music again filled the tent. Even if the musician's earpoints remained wilted.

  "You wanted to know why I came here, so I answered," replied Kelanus. "You, your people and your lands have been, and are being, played for fools. Hingast was a monster, possibly always cruel, and driven mad before his reign. But he was certainly Eldova's rightful ruler. How is his advisor, the man named Dervra?"

  Lowst frowned.

  "Abandoned you, hasn't he? Dervra was the man who kept Hingast in line, who encouraged him to hunt sylphs for sport, who wanted him to march to Marka and seize the throne. Where is he now?"

  "I'm yet to hear any evidence Hingast is a different man," protested Lowst.

  "Then I suggest you use your eyes and ears," said Kelanus.

  Conversation came to an abrupt end as soldiers entered the tent and served the main course. For some time, the only sounds in the tent were those of gentle music, and contented eating.

  "I would offer wine," said Lowst, as they finished the meal, "only I brought none with me. An oversight, I admit."

  Once fresh alovak had been served, Lowst dismissed the sylph, who stood and bowed without giving a single word.