Fire and Sword

Chapter 19

The light coming through the trees spread in a golden fan. Lynan cocked his head and listened for the sound of birds and insects, but there was none. A breeze moved the canopy high above. He took a hesitant step forward, his boot settling in soft brown humus. He could smell the rotting leaves and twigs. Bright fungi decorated the bases of tree trunks. The air was cool and moist.

The faintest of sounds. Like the flight of a passing arrow. And again. Not an arrow, but a bird’s wing. Lynan stopped moving, looked up among the trees. And again. No, not a bird; the sound was too leathery to be a bird. A bat, then.

He saw something moving among the topmost branches. A shimmer. He let his eyes unfocus, moved his head slowly. There, a flurry of wings, but gone as quickly as it had come.

And then a face, only a glimpse, but a face he knew. He felt fear and desire. He wanted to run away, and he wanted to wait. He could not make up his mind.

The smell of humus again, but something else underneath, something more carnal.

“No.”

He decided to flee. He turned around and started running, but it was like moving through water; his legs would not move quickly enough. The sound of flapping wings was much closer now, just behind him, then above him again. Then in front.

He stopped, his breathing ragged. The light seemed to dissipate, leaving only shadows. Branches and leaves flurried, and there she was. So young, so beautiful. Green eyes held his. He did not want to run away anymore.

“Where have you been?” she asked. “I have been searching the wide world for you. You belong to me.”

“No,” he said, but the desire in him was stronger than his fear.

“Yes. Look at your skin. So pale and cold.”

“No.”

“We can be together. Always.”

“No.”

“Come to me.”

Lynan walked to her. Her arms spread out for him, embraced him. Her breath was ice cold and fetid. She kissed him on the lips, then on the throat, then on the chest. Her hands moved over his back, forced him closer. He saw her eyes change shape, and he could not look away.

“You want me as much as I want you,” she said, and kissed his lips again.

“Yes,” he said, and knew it was true.

She laughed, held him so tight all his breath was squeezed out of his body. Two black wings spread from her back, slapped together, and he felt himself lifted off the ground. Branches whipped by them. She laughed and they rose into the sky. He glanced down and saw the world disappear beneath them.

Lynan?

He looked at her, but she was distracted. She was searching for something below them.

Lynan?

It was not her voice. When she opened her mouth she did not say his name but cried in sudden fury. She let him go, and he fell from the sky.

“No!”

“Lynan!”

He shot out of his bed, eyes wide open but not seeing. Two hands grasped his shoulders and he jumped away from them.

“Get away from me!” he cried.

More voices, a man and a woman’s. Flaring brightness.

“My lord? What is the matter?”

Someone was holding a brand. Someone with a red hand. “My lord? Are you ill?”

“Give me the brand,” said another voice, the voice he had heard calling him. “Leave. He was dreaming. Do not tell anyone what happened.”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

The light retreated. He saw a hand place the brand in a bracket. Then he saw a face in the light. He knew her. A strong face, golden-skinned.

“Korigan?”

“Yes. You were having a nightmare.”

“A nightmare?”

“Can you remember it?”

Lynan closed his eyes. Wisps of memory drifted in his brain—a dim forest, a pale woman, the smell of death—and then were gone. He shuddered. Korigan’s strong hands helped him back to his cot.

“It was more than a nightmare, I think,” he said. He faced Korigan. “Why are you here?”

“I heard you in your sleep,” she said.

There was something in her voice that told Lynan she was lying, but he said nothing.

“Are you cold?” she asked.

“No.”

“You should put some clothes on.”

He looked down at himself, saw that he was naked. Worse, he had an erection. He scrabbled for the blanket and placed it across his lap.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“I’ve seen worse,” she said, half smiling. “What do you mean, it was more than a nightmare?”

Lynan shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What was her name?”

“It wasn’t like that,” he said shortly.

Korigan sighed. “That is not what I meant. I know what happened to you, Lynan. I know about Silona.”

He shuddered involuntarily, and Korigan came closer to him, put an arm around him. “It was Silona, wasn’t it?” He nodded. “Have you dreamed about her before?”

“No.”

“My people have stories of the old vampires who used to inhabit the Oceans of Grass.” Lynan looked up in surprise. “Oh, yes, we had them, too. But they were hunted down and killed a long time ago. All the vampires on this continent were destroyed by our ancestors, all but one.”

“Silona.”

“She was the strongest. Even this far away we know of her. All humans dream of her at least once in their lives. For you, it is worse.”

“She was calling for me.”

“I was afraid this would happen.”

He stared at her. “You knew?”

“No, I did not know. But I suspected. You have her blood in you. That would give her some hold.”

“How strong a hold?”

“The closer you are to her, the stronger it will be.”

Lynan started shaking, and Korigan held him even more tightly.

“Your people will not let her take you, Lynan. I promise you that.”

Her breath was warm on his cheek. In the half light of the brand, her eyes were as golden as her skin. For the first time he found himself thinking of the Chett queen just as a woman, and for the first time in a long time he felt real human desire stirring in him.

There was a commotion outside. Korigan pulled away from him just as the flap to his tent opened and one of his bodyguards entered. The man looked at both of them with something like curiosity.

“Your Majesty, I’m sorry to interrupt—”

“You’re not interrupting anything,” Lynan said too quickly, and stood up. He remembered to keep the blanket in front of him. “What is it?”

“It’s the clans, my lord. They’re gone.”

Makon’s face was white. “Three main clans—the Horse, the Moon and the Owl—and four lesser.”

“How did they leave without us hearing them in the night?” Lynan asked.

“Easy enough to do,” Korigan answered. “They had days to maneuver their herds to the edge of the sooq. They have probably been sending detachments away for the last week.”

“How many warriors have we lost?” Kumul asked.

“At least fifteen thousand,” the queen answered glumly. “And they are only the clans who have publicly separated from us. Many others will be thinking along the same line.”

“But why?” Lynan asked. “What made them do it now?”

“They have probably been planning this for some time,” Korigan told him. “They had to wait until winter was almost over so that there would be some grass growing for them in their own territory, and they had to move before you gave the command for the army to move out.”

“Kumul, how many of your lancers were from the missing clans?” Lynan asked.

Kumul shrugged. “I am not sure. Perhaps two hundred out of a thousand.”

“And the Red Hands?” Lynan asked Makon, who commanded them in the absence of his brother Gudon.

“None have gone,” Makon said proudly. “The Red Hands are sworn to protect you above all else.”

“The loss in troops isn’t that great, then,” Lynan said, more to himself than the others.

“It is the loss in morale that concerns me,” Korigan said. “The longer we wait here, the more chance dissension will spread.”

“Let me go after them,” Kumul said angrily. “I’ll bring the clan heads back, and their clans will follow.”

“You could not do so without violence. They will obey Lynan, but not you, and certainly not me now.”

“Then I will go—” Lynan started.

“You cannot,” Korigan said firmly.

“A king cannot chase his subjects, your Majesty,” Ager added. “You would lose respect and authority.”

“They have been very clever about it,” Korigan said. “They have not disobeyed any command. They just left before a command could be given them.”

Lynan sighed heavily. “We have no choice. To keep the rest of the Chetts behind me, we must move the army now.” He turned to Makon. “Spread the word among all the clans: their remaining levy is due today.” He then turned to Kumul. “Get your lancers together, all that are left. They will take the van. Let the clans see what we have built.”

The two men nodded and left, glad to have something to do. Lynan faced Korigan and Ager. “Ready your people. We leave the High Sooq today.”

“Do you travel with the White Wolf clan?” Korigan asked.

“For a while. The army will march east, and I will lead it.”

“I will come with you,” Ager said quickly.

“You are a clan chief now,” Lynan said. “You have other responsibilities.”

“I will come with you,” Ager repeated, more firmly. “I will bring as many of my warriors as the clan can spare. The remainder will take the herd to our spring feeding grounds.”

Lynan nodded, not willing to argue, especially when any extra warriors would be welcome. “Thank you, my friend.”

Ager smiled and left, leaving Lynan with Korigan.

“It seems to me that I am always forced into action by the actions of others,” he told her. “It would be nice to take the initiative once in a while.”

“If you act quickly enough, you will regain it,” Korigan said confidently. “No one could have predicted that Eynon, Piktar and Akota would move their clans away so soon. We will not make the mistake of trusting them again.”

“Ah, but that’s the hard part,” Lynan said. “We will have to if the Chetts are to stand together, and it is only by standing together that any of us will withstand the storm that is coming.”

Lasthear came to Jenrosa. “I must ride, and you must come with me.”

Jenrosa obeyed without hesitation. The two women skirted the main part of the sooq and rode to the top of a hill. From there they could see the clans starting to disperse, and in the center the gathering of Lynan’s army.

“My people have never seen anything like this,” Lasthear said. “Your prince has wrought greater changes than he knows.”

“Are you afraid?”

Lasthear laughed. “I am always afraid.” She touched Jenrosa gently on the arm. “That is the nature of our calling. We see, hear, and smell things no one else can, and that brings us knowledge. Knowledge is fear.”

“I don’t understand. I always thought knowledge freed us from fear.”

“Some knowledge, no doubt,” Lasthear answered ambiguously but did not continue.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“To help in a seeking.”

Lasthear opened a leather pouch attached to her saddle and withdrew an eagle’s feather. “For seeing far,” she explained. Then she withdrew something round and leathery. “A heart from a karak boar, for strength.”

Jenrosa blinked. This was too close to shamanism to make her feel comfortable, but she said nothing. Lasthear held the feather and dried heart in her hand. She muttered a few words and her hand was surrounded by a faint yellow glow. When she took her hand away, the objects remained suspended in midair.

Now that’s something the theurgia never knew, she told herself. Shamanism or not, this works.

“Now we cast,” Lasthear said. “I want you to say what I say.”

Jenrosa nodded, and as Lasthear recited her incantation, Jenrosa repeated the words; some of them were familiar, some not.

The objects started to smoke, then they burst into flame. The color of the flame changed from yellow to blue, and still Lasthear recited, and Jenrosa repeated.

“Now concentrate on the heart of the flame,” Lasthear said. “We will see what we can see.”

Jenrosa did as she was told. Almost immediately she saw a vision of a land not dissimilar from that around the High Sooq, but then she noticed some differences. The grass was greener, not so damaged by the winter. There were mountains in the background. And there were buildings, like those around the lake, and like those at...

“The Strangers’ Sooq,” Jenrosa said.

“Yes. But why are we drawn there? Keep concentrating.”

The vision seemed to rotate as if the plane of the earth was revolving beneath them. Jenrosa noticed there was a figure in the middle, and wherever the figure went they seemed to follow.

“A Chett,” Lasthear said. “Not very tall.”

“Gudon!” Jenrosa cried with certainty.

Lasthear looked at her with surprise. “Yes, I think you are right. I did not see that.”

Then Gudon looked up at the sky, directly at them.

“He senses us,” Jenrosa said.

“No, he senses you,” Lasthear said with awe. “Your casting is powerful indeed.”

“What do I do?”

“The magic must be showing him to us for a reason. In your mind, tell him what has happened here.”

Jenrosa recalled the flight from the High Sooq of the clans opposed to Korigan, then she put in her mind the picture of Lynan’s army forming and marching out. She saw Gudon smile with what she thought was relief.

“This is remarkable,” Lasthear said.

“Prado!” Jenrosa shouted.

“What?”

“Gudon brings news of Prado.”

“He is casting to you?”

“No. I can see it in his mind. He is exhausted. He has been riding hard for several days. Prado was in Daavis when Gudon left there, and Gudon believes he is not far behind. He says Prado is coming to the Oceans of Grass, and he says Haxus is invading Hume.”

In her mind, Jenrosa told Gudon that they knew of the invasion, but not of Prado. Then she told him that Rendle was also moving into the Oceans of Grass. Gudon replied, but she could not hear him properly. There was a pain somewhere in the middle of her head, and the vision started to fade. She tried to hold it, but the pain increased so suddenly she shouted in agony. The flame disappeared, leaving nothing but a wisp of dark greasy smoke that drifted into the sky and dispersed.

Jenrosa slumped over her horse. Lasthear reached out to hold her steady. “I have never seen anything like this,” Last-hear told her. “You have a power that has not been seen among the Chetts since the last Truespeaker died.”

Jenrosa barely heard the words. The pain in her head subsided quickly after the vision went, but she was more tired than she had ever felt before in her life. If Lasthear had not steadied her, she would have fallen out of the saddle.

Ager quickly organized the Ocean clan with Morfast’s help. Their traditional territory was north of the White Wolf clan and southeast of Terin’s South Wind clan, a situation which explained their ambivalent loyalty to Korigan’s father—for centuries they had been the fly between two hard rocks, and everything they did was determined by the attitude of the chiefs of their neighboring clans. But now the ambivalence was gone; the Ocean clan was loyal to Prince Lynan, the White Wolf himself. Too many of the clan’s warriors wanted to join the Chett army, and Ager had to persuade them that some had to stay behind to protect the herd in the uncertain and dangerous months ahead. He allotted a thousand warriors to stay with the clan and placed them under the command of someone Morfast had told him was well respected and wise, a man called Dogal, and the rest— another thousand—joined Lynan’s army. They took pride in the fact that the crookback was their chief; he was after all a close friend and confidant of Lynan, and had proved himself the most formidable of warriors despite his deformities.

The army moved out first, nearly twenty thousand strong. It was arranged in banners of a thousand, each banner comprising ten troops, and each troop comprising one hundred riders from a single clan. Some of the larger clans, such as the White Wolf, contributed several troops, and they were distributed among several banners so that no clan would dominate. The banners were usually commanded by clan chiefs, including Ager, but one banner was commanded by Kumul and was made up of those riders he had started training as lancers, and another banner was made up entirely of the Red Hands—who proudly carried the short sword as well as the saber—and was commanded by Makon in Gudon’s absence.

As Ager watched the army leave the High Sooq, he could not help the pride swelling within him. It was greater than the pride he had felt as a young captain serving under Lynan’s father, the General, because he had played a part in its creation. He also felt a greater loyalty to this army. Even before he had become a chief among the Chetts, he had started thinking he had found his true home, that his wanderings had at last come to an end. After the Slaver War he had been attracted to the sea because it promised him a life without borders, and the Oceans of Grass promised something similar. Here, even a crookback could find respect and a kind of inner peace.

Lynan rode near the vanguard, his Red Hands surrounding him. They carried pennants, and Ager was surprised to see they were not the pennant of the White Wolf, but a new design. It was a plain gold circle on a blood-red background. Ager smiled to himself. Clever, he thought. The Key of Union is our flag. And all those who fight against us, fight against that. He wondered who had thought up that idea, knowing it would never have been Kumul. Korigan, of course. She is cleverer and more dangerous than a wounded great bear. I’m glad she’s on our side. Ager shook his head. At least, I hope she’s truly on our side.

Morfast jiggled his elbow, and he turned to see the clans now moving away from the High Sooq, his own among them. He swallowed hard, only now realizing what it meant to have the loyalty of so many. The responsibility both terrified him and filled him with a wild joy.

My people, he thought. He did not know if he would survive the next few months, but if he did, nothing would stop him returning.

As if she had been reading his mind, Morfast said, “They will wait for you. You are destined to die among them, not apart from them.”

Ager grunted. He glanced at her with his one eye. “Are you a prophet, Morfast?”

She grinned and shook her head. “No. But you have to admit it sounded good.”

Ager grinned back. “You’ll never know how good,” he said.

The Chett army had not gone far by the end of the first day, partly because it started off disentangling itself from the herds and wagons around the High Sooq, but mostly because it was the first time so many Chett warriors had been gathered together into a single force—nearly twice the size of the largest army Korigan’s father had brought together during the Chett civil war. Kumul had done his best to sort out an order of march, and as the day progressed, they had actually started to ride with some kind of unity. That night, Kumul made sure they camped according to their position in tomorrow’s order of march, and only arrived at the commanders’ meeting well after it had started.

It was a large meeting, including all the chiefs and their seconds-in-command, as well as Lynan and Jenrosa. They were gathered around a large fire. This night there was little to discuss at first, mainly minor problems relating to the hurt pride of chiefs whose banners had been relegated to the rear half of the army. Lynan assured them that the banners would be rotated from necessity, since no banner could be expected to always hold the responsibility that came with being the vanguard or rearguard.

When the chiefs had stopped asking questions, Lynan asked if there were any other matters. Jenrosa stood up and said nervously: “Jes Prado will soon be on the Oceans of Grass,” then sat down again.

All eyes settled on her, and she wished she was an ant and could crawl under the nearest rock. Several people started talking at the same time.

“Quiet,” Lynan commanded, and everyone shut up. “Jenrosa, how do you know this?”

“She helped me cast,” said a new voice, and Lasthear stepped forward. The magicker shook her head and half-smiled. “The truth is, she took over the casting.”

“What do you mean?” Korigan demanded. She had not been keen on Jenrosa being trained by a magicker who was not from the White Wolf clan, but Ager had been persuasive and it was another way of tying the Ocean clan to her cause, so in the end she had agreed to it.

“I mean, my queen,” Lasthear said respectfully, “that Jenrosa—without my assistance—actually communicated with another Chett, one who was at the Strangers’ Sooq.”

“So far!” Korigan said in surprise. “None among us has been able to do that since—”

“Since the Truespeaker died,” Lasthear finished for her. “And indeed, the one Jenrosa communicated with was the Truespeaker’s son.”

Korigan jumped to her feet. “Gudon!”

“What’s this about Gudon?” Lynan asked, staring at Korigan and Jenrosa in turn.

“He is fleeing Prado,” Jenrosa said. “He was at Daavis, spying on Charion as you requested, when Prado turned up with a large force of mercenaries. He is certain they are coming after you.”

There were shouts from many at the meeting, angry that the queen of Grenda Lear would hire mercenaries to hunt down her own brother, and even angrier that she would send mercenaries to the Oceans of Grass.

“How long?” Kumul’s voice boomed over the noise. Everyone fell quiet again.

“What?” Jenrosa asked.

“How long before Prado reaches the plains?”

Jenrosa shrugged. “Gudon did not know. He felt they were close behind. They may already be across the mountains.”

Kumul turned to Lynan. “I knew we should have marched northeast to take care of Rendle. Now we have two mercenary forces to worry about before we even get to the east, and we are between them. We must ride hard to the Strangers’ Sooq. It is closest to us. God knows we won’t arrive in time to save it, but with luck we might get there before Prado moves out again.”

“He may not be making for the Strangers’ Sooq,” another voice said, and an argument started about Prado’s intentions.

Lynan kept quiet. He understood Kumul’s frustration. Jenrosa’s news had shaken him, too, at first. But there was an opportunity here, he could feel it. If only he could pin down the idea that was floating at the back of his mind.

And then he had it.

“We continue marching due east,” he said quietly. Some of the chiefs were still arguing and did not hear him. Korigan did, though, and looked at him. “We march east and have Rendle in one hand and Prado in the other.”

“What are you saying?” Korigan asked. “We have a large force, but as yet we have had no experience in fighting as an army. And you want us to take on two mercenary forces at the same time? Surely it would be better to concentrate on either Rendle or Prado first, and then turn on the other.”

Lynan shook his head, a smile crossing his face. “No, that would not be better.”

By now everyone realized Lynan was speaking, and they shut up to listen to him.

“Did I hear you say we just continue riding east?” Kumul asked.

“Yes.”

“That’s stupid, lad,” Kumul said bluntly. “You’ll put us smack between our enemies.”

Lynan’s smile disappeared. He stared at the giant, his pale face shining in the light of the fire. “I will take your advice, Kumul Alarn, but I will not take your insults.”

Kumul’s face blushed bright red. All around him held their breath. Even Lynan did not know what his old friend would do. Jenrosa stood up and moved to stand by Kumul, but suddenly Ager was by her side, holding her back.

“Do not divide us further,” he hissed in her ear.

Kumul looked down at his hands. He was confused by his own anger and sense of humiliation. He then looked up at Lynan, saw the youth’s implacable stare and understood he, too, felt humiliated.

“I am sorry,” Kumul said brusquely. “I had no right.”

Lynan swallowed. He could not let it end like this. There would be too much resentment on both sides.

“Kumul, Ager, and Jenrosa, we need to talk. Everyone else, please return to your banners.” He saw Korigan hesitate, but he nodded to her and she left.

The four remaining came together, standing, all trying to figure out what had just occurred between them and not liking the answer. They were dividing; after all they had gone through together, they were dividing.

“Kumul,” Lynan started, “I have good reasons for letting the army continue as it is.”

“I think you are unwise in risking the army getting caught between two enemies,” Kumul replied.

“I understand that. I will not let it happen.”

Kumul nodded perfunctorily, not happy with the answer but afraid to question Lynan again.

“I am not against you, Kumul,” Lynan said.

“I did not think you were—” Kumul blurted.

“Yes, you did. You think that I have turned against you in favor of Korigan. You think I am punishing you for treating me like a child.” He stopped. He wanted to say, And you think I am punishing you for being Jenrosa ‘s lover, but he could not say the words. Instead, he said: “That was partly true that night I made the decision to go to the High Sooq. It is not true now.”

“I accept that,” Kumul said, his anger tempered by Lynan’s honesty. “But am I to keep quiet when I disagree with you?”

“I hope not. Whether you know it or not, I still rely on you, old friend. I need you. But I do not need to be lectured by you.”

Kumul swallowed. “I am ever at your side.”

Lynan turned to Ager and Jenrosa. “The same goes for you, as well. I have not forgotten what you have all done for me. I have not forgotten the bonds of friendship. But one of the things you taught me was the responsibility of leadership, and now that I am a leader, I am responsible for more than our friendship. In the future I may say and do things that may make you forget that friendship, but I will never forget it.”

Ager and Jenrosa nodded.

“I need to talk to Kumul alone,” Lynan said, and they left. Lynan and Kumul looked at each other shyly. They opened their mouths to speak at the same time, then closed them together. That made them both grin.

“I count on you more than I can say,” Lynan said quickly.

“You have been my father, older brother, and teacher all at the same time. I always took it for granted that you would be by my side.”

Kumul tried to swallow, but his throat was suddenly constricted.

“I know about you and Jenrosa,” Lynan continued. “I was surprised.” He laughed bitterly. “I was hurt.”

“Lad, I did not mean—”

“I know,” Lynan said, holding up his hand. “It was self-pity on my part, something I’m very good at, as you well know. I am sorry for that. I want you to know that you both have my blessing.” Kumul looked up sharply. “Not that you require it, of course—”

“I am glad of it,” Kumul said.

Lynan sighed. He felt as if a great load had been lifted from his shoulders. “Well and good,” he said. “Well and good.”