Resurgence

by Alex Janaway

  ‘What do you think, Bajin? Like the place?’ he asked the camel, who pointedly ignored him, cropping at the grass. Next to them Devlin’s mount maintained a respectful but peaceable distance. It had taken a while for the horses to calm down when confronted with the arrival of the camels; most of their skittishness had gone now.

  ‘What was that?’ asked Devlin, walking back to his horse and lifting a leg up to the stirrup.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Oh,’ Devlin said, as he settled into his saddle.

  Killen pulled at his forked beard and pursed his lips. The two men were alone, for the moment. All their companions were scattered in a loose line some distance away, sweeping the area, looking for any kind of sign. Now was as good a time as any. ‘You’ve got your riders well drilled.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘What were you? Before it all fell apart?’

  Devlin glanced over and smiled. ‘Retired.’

  ‘Huh. Fair enough. Must’ve been nice.’

  ‘Didn’t get much time to enjoy it.’

  Killen sighed. Devlin wasn’t going to make this easy.

  ‘Seriously, though. You are military. Wait, I’ll concede the point, you were military. Whether you want to admit it or not, you’re the one who coordinated the withdrawal, turned civilians into soldiers. You’ve got a hundred riders under your command. They listen to you, they follow you. Emperor, you have a barracks, a fortification.’

  ‘Someone had to do it.’

  ‘Yes, they did.’

  ‘And others did as well.’

  ‘But here you are.’

  Devlin shifted in his horse, turning his torso towards Killen. ‘What do you want to know, Major?’

  ‘I’m just trying to understand the chain of command.’

  Devlin’s eyes narrowed a little. ‘I keep the borders safe. And I serve the council.’

  Killen raised his hands. ‘I’ve no agenda here. And I’m not looking at causing ructions and I’m not making this about loyalty. But you and I both know things aren’t simple at the top of the tree.’

  Devlin closed his eyes.

  ‘There are some different views, I’ll grant you that.’

  ‘You know my lot. You know Owen. You would have heard the title General is bandied around a bit.’

  Devlin nodded. ‘Yes. Not sure that title carries as much weight around here.’

  ‘Either way, Owen’s planning on a course of action that is going to drag everyone in.’

  Devlin was quiet for a while. ‘Cade won’t like that. We are trying to keep a low profile.’

  Killen had sympathy with that. ‘That’s a little at odds with Owen’s plan.’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘What do you think? Is Brevis going to fight?’

  Devlin shook his head. ‘You mean, is Cade going to fight?’

  Killen nodded. Exactly. Even if there was a council, she was the power. She had the people and the swords. And, now he thought about it, Owen and Cade were not that far apart in age. What did that make him?

  Devlin patted his horse and ran his hand down its mane. ‘She fights when she has to.’

  ‘Which means?’

  Devlin looked at him hard. ‘She didn’t have to when Owen last showed up.’

  Killen leaned back. Huh. There it was. ‘What rank were you, Devlin?’

  Devlin was staring into the distance, a frown on his face. ‘Major,’ he replied in an offhand way. Ah, well, that was alright. Killen had been concerned he was dealing with a colonel or higher. That would have made things awkward, retired or not. He’d gotten used to not having to call anyone ‘Sir’. And for some reason, Owen’s honorific didn’t count.

  Something had Devlin’s attention and Killen followed his gaze. One of the riders was galloping towards them. No, make that two. Both on the left flank. As word spread, the rest of the cavalry screen began to turn around and follow the others.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Devlin, as the first rider pulled up before them.

  ‘There’s a column, heading in from the west.’ Her face was flushed but she held herself well, no hint of panic.

  ‘How far?’

  ‘A couple of miles.’

  ‘They got scouts out?’

  ‘None I could see.’

  Devlin looked at Killen. ‘Let’s go take a look.’

  Killen urged Bajin into action and the camel burst into a loping stride. They did not go too far, barely a half mile, before the party halted on a slight rise. Ahead of them a line of dark shapes stretched away to the east. Killen raised a hand to his eyes to cover them from the sun that had yet to reach its zenith. Ranging around this column were a handful of riders, not many at all, and not probing too far forwards. Perhaps they had already seen Devlin’s troops? Or perhaps they already knew where they were going. He squinted a little, there was something odd about the infantry, but he couldn’t quite place it.

  ‘Dwarves,’ said Devlin, as if reading his mind.

  Ah. That made sense of it.

  ‘But the riders …’ He shook his head. ‘They’re not dwarves.’

  Killen decided to hazard a guess. ‘Wood elves,’ he stated.

  Devlin leaned away from him and spat. ‘They are coming straight for us.’

  ‘Can we lead them away?’

  Devlin shook his head and shrugged. ‘Maybe, maybe not. But my guess is, they know what they are doing. Perhaps if we split our forces we–’

  ‘Devlin!’ A rider pointed to the south. In the middle distance another, smaller, column hove into view. And this one had many more horses in its train. Devlin slapped his hand against the pommel of his sword. ‘Fuck!’

  Killen was as unhappy about this as his colleague, but for some reason he felt a devil inside of him. ‘Do you think Cade will fight now?’

  CHAPTER 35 – MICHAEL

  Michael made his way through the barren lanes of Vyberg and out the southern gate. Just ahead the Eagle Riders has set up their own bivouac. He was paying them a friendly visit, a way of them getting used to his presence. He supposed he did it not just out of duty to his Emperor, he did it for his friends. Better he was here, reporting back, rather than a stricter approach enforced by the Emperor, though what that might mean he dare not think.

  He expected to see just one or two on the ground, what with Cadarn taking half his command south and others flying west to cover the arrival of the Nidhal. Yet, coming into land, were more eagles than there should be. How many? There were six. What was this? He hurried to the camp. A small crowd had gathered: a few marines and some of the Riders.

  ‘Jenna?’

  She turned, smiling broadly. ‘Good timing, Father.’

  ‘What’s happening, why has everyone returned so soon?’

  ‘Because they’ve fulfilled their mission.’

  ‘They found him?’

  She pointed. ‘See for yourself.’

  The eagles had all landed and the Riders were dismounting and gathering around one of their number. Jenna made a squeaking noise and ran over. Michael followed at a more discreet distance. She reached the huddle and launched herself at the new arrival. The Riders started to remove their scarves, revealing smiling faces. There was laughter, joy and happiness. Cadarn was grinning, Cadarn never grinned. And what was that? Bryce was rubbing at his eye. Michael stood back watching the back slapping, and good-natured abuse. He found he was enjoying himself, swept up in the moment.

  ‘Father!’ Jenna waved to him. ‘Come over here.’

  He went but a little hesitantly, feeling he was intruding on a private moment.

  ‘Father, this is Owen Derle,’ she said, punching the Rider in the arm. ‘And that lad hovering just behind him is Jussi. One of the new crop.’

  The lad raised a hand and smiled weakly, a little overwhelmed by it all.

  Owen stepped forward and extended his hand. Michael took it and looked into the face of the fair-haired man, that beard he was sporting didn’t hide his youth. But the eyes, even crinkled an
d smiling, the eyes spoke of an older soul. Michael had learned to read that, a long time ago.

  ‘Owen, it is an honour to meet you. It is a miracle.’

  ‘It bloody is,’ Bryce chimed in. ‘Bloody idiot missed the boat.’

  ‘I did!’ Owen laughed. ‘Too busy covering your asses. Somebody had to keep the enemy busy.’

  ‘I hear you still are,’ Michael observed.

  ‘I’m doing what I can. But this,’ he said with a shake of his head, ‘this is too much. I never dreamed.’

  ‘You of all know, Highlanders never go down without a fight,’ said Cadarn, an uncharacteristic hint of pride in his voice.

  ‘And those are the ones you spoke of? The Nidhal?’ Owen was looking towards the river. Several vargr were gathered, drinking the water while their riders looked on at the reunion.

  ‘They are,’ said Cadarn. ‘And they are quite the warriors.’

  ‘And there are more coming, you say?’ Owen asked, a considered look to his face.

  ‘Oh aye,’ said Bryce. ‘Hundreds trekking their way here right now and a whole gods-damned nation waiting to set sail.’

  Owen nodded. ‘This could change everything.’

  ‘That is the plan,’ said Jenna.

  ‘Speaking of which. Owen, come. The Emperor will want to meet you,’ said Cadarn briskly, a little more like his old self.

  ‘Yes. I need to look–’

  ‘Don’t worry about Arno,’ Jenna interrupted. ‘We’ll take good care of him.’

  ‘And we’ll take care of this sprog of yours, see what sort of nonsense you’ve been teaching him,’ said Bryce, with a playful scowl. The young Rider looked a little distressed at that.

  Owen nodded his assent. Cadarn took his arm, steering him towards the gate. Michael decided to tag along; his role gave him certain privileges after all.

  ‘There isn’t much left, is there,’ Owen observed, as they walked through the once-gateway.

  ‘They did a job, alright,’ agreed Cadarn.

  ‘Aberpool survived,’ Owen said.

  ‘Indeed it did. We’ll be keeping an outpost there. I can imagine it will grow faster than Vyberg,’ Cadarn replied.

  ‘Speaking of which, did Cadarn mention Father Llews to you?’ asked Michael.

  Owen shook his head. ‘No, who is that?’

  ‘He is the Emperor’s advisor. He remembers, you saved his life that last night in Aberpool.’

  ‘Did I?’

  ‘You dumped him in the drink as the city burned.’

  Owen gave a little cry of recognition. ‘Yes. Of course. We had to, poor Arno couldn’t carry us both. He is the Emperor’s advisor you say? But what happened to everyone else?’

  ‘Many things have changed,’ Cadarn said, in a very even tone. That they had. Michael did not feel the need to expand on it. His part in that was something he did not wish to dwell on.

  ‘And the Emperor? Is he well?’ Owen asked.

  ‘He is in fine health,’ Cadarn said.

  ‘And does he want to fight?’

  Cadarn and Michael shared a look.

  ‘I believe he does,’ replied the Leader.

  Michael’s attendance at the meeting was a given, even if he had nothing to contribute. In the hours after Owen’s arrival, a private audience had turned into a full-blown council of war. Gathered around the table were the usual faces. Admiral Lukas, Father Llews, the Empress was there also, as were the three Nidhal brothers, Cadarn and Captain Shepherd. Ellen was there also, no doubt to support the translation for the Nidhal. It pained him to see she wore her shackles. Michael wondered how Owen felt about this. Did he feel any kinship and empathy towards the Gifted? If he did, he did not show it as Owen began to recount his exploits after the evacuation. It was, by any measure, quite the tale, and all were taken with his efforts to rebuild his Highland community. But it was the moment that he informed them of the community he’d encountered at Brevis that caused the greatest reaction.

  Michael likened it to a shared intake of breath. Followed by a moment of stunned disbelief. Then the smiles and questions flowed. The Emperor was as excited and animated as Michael had ever seen him. And could anyone blame him? Owen spoke of thousands of survivors who had fought their way out of captivity, who had marched across hundreds of miles, constantly skirmishing with their dwarf pursuers, and then had finally found a place they could settle. It was all too much. Michael felt another flush of hope. Out of so much death, there was still a chance for Tissan to be reborn. And yet, beyond that, the Emperor recognised another truth.

  ‘In my absence, the war has continued. We have thought ourselves a beaten race and our return but a prelude to the start of a new conflict. One where we and our Nidhal friends would have to reconquer what had been taken from us. But look at what has happened! The dwarf nations have been raided from within, the wood elves and gnomes have been slaughtered by combined forces of Highlander and Erebeshi cavalry.’ The Emperor banged a fist upon the table. ‘And, Owen here has even formed a new squadron of Eagle Riders.’

  ‘The people must know of this,’ said Father Llews, his shoulders shaking and his eyes shining brightly.

  ‘Yes, they must,’ agreed the Emperor. ‘Word must be taken to them, they must learn of the great victories earned by our loyal Tissan forces.’

  ‘Your victories,’ said Father Llews forcefully. The Emperor waved it off.

  ‘And the people of Brevis must know of your return, Your Grace,’ said Captain Shepherd.

  ‘Yes, that is true.’ The Emperor rubbed his chin. ‘I must go to them!’ He looked around the table, expectantly. Michael saw no issue with that, it was a reasonable request.

  ‘Your Grace, I agree. But I cannot wait for you. I fear that the community is under threat.’

  Michael saw the Admiral’s lips purse.

  The Emperor’s face turned grave. ‘How so?’

  ‘I cannot be sure, but there is every likelihood that the enemy will have been searching for them. And almost definitely, they will have been tracking us. I need to return to take command of the defences.’

  ‘I thought there were commanders there, in your stead,’ said the Emperor.

  ‘There are,’ Owen nodded, ‘but not all follow me. There is the council who runs Brevis, and their leader, Cade. The local fighting troops follow her.’

  ‘Hmm …’ The Emperor nodded. ‘Then there is even more reason for me to head south. I can take charge, personally, and establish a proper chain of command.’

  ‘Quite so, Your Grace,’ said Father Llews. ‘But what of Vyberg and our work here?’

  The Emperor went quiet, his face oddly still. Father Michael knew his lord well enough to understand the currents of emotion that were at play. The Emperor felt torn between two desires. For all that he had wished to face their enemies, he had wanted time to rebuild first, to gather the Nidhal about him and to march east with a horde at his back. Owen’s arrival, and the news he delivered had changed all that.

  The Emperor slowly stood.

  ‘Owen. I command you to return to Brevis. You will bear with you my Imperial Seal and a scroll, wherein I confer upon you the title of General. It will also stipulate all forces from the Brevis Sea to the tip of Erebesh will fall under your command. Further to that, you have my authority to requisition all manpower and material needed to prosecute the successful defence of those same lands.’

  Father Michael gauged the reactions around the table. Cadarn looked surprised, Admiral Lukas more so and Owen himself had the grace to look a little embarrassed. He stole a glance at Ellen, she raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Your Grace, I’m just an Eagle Rider. There are others wh–’

  ‘Nonsense!’ the Emperor scoffed. ‘It is you who has been the architect of our resistance here. Your people follow you for good reason. I merely ensure your work is not hindered by … other agendas. All of us here are embarked upon, and have pledged our lives to, the resurgence of the Tissan Empire. Nothing else matters. You go tell the counci
l at Brevis, this Cade, that their Emperor has returned, and all will be as it was.’

  ‘Praise be,’ announced Father Llews.

  Owen nodded his head in acceptance. Father Michael wondered, however, if it would be that simple.

  The meeting finally broke up after another short period of discussion and planning and Father Michael left the tent behind several of the others, Captain Shepherd escorting Ellen back to their new makeshift gaol and beyond them the Nidhal. He loitered by the exit, wondering what to do with himself. Admiral Lukas stalked out and stopped abruptly when he saw Michael.

  ‘Huh. Father. Let’s take a walk.’ He steered Michael away from the tent and headed towards the river. They walked in silence until they were clear of anyone nearby. ‘What do you think, Father?’

  ‘We have been blessed with good fortune,’ he said loyally.

  The Admiral stopped, and fixed him with a stare, his eyes shadows in the dark.

  ‘Bollocks to that, Michael. You and I have been at this for too long. Tell me, what do you think?’

  Father Michael sighed heavily. He should have expressed outrage or confusion at the question. He struggled to find the words.

  ‘Everything seems to have changed.’

  ‘No plan survives contact, Father,’ said the Admiral.

  ‘No but it’s not that, it’s …’ Damn it, what was he trying to say?

  ‘Go on,’ urged the Admiral.

  ‘It’s like we are trying too hard. Trying to do too much. Owen, it is clear to me, wants war. The Emperor wants war. And yet no one is being cautious. No one remembers how we came to … this.’ He held his arms wide, and looked around, taking in the ruins of Vyberg. ‘We have had unexpected victories, yes. But have they truly achieved anything other than alerting the enemy to our presence?’

  Lukas nodded.

  ‘That’s how I see it. We’ve walked into a situation we weren’t expecting. Something we are not prepared for. The Emperor has made a kid a general and told him to put everyone on a war footing.’