Sovereign

CHAPTER 10

Serefa enjoyed the first hour of filling water casks and roping them to the back of the outpost's donkey. It had been a warm morning with a gentle mist lifting off the ground and birds singing in the gallery along the stream. He had taken off his clothes and bathed before starting his chores and felt refreshed and at peace with the world. However, by the time he had hoisted the sixth cask he was feeling less sanguine about life in general, and outpost work in particular. His imagination started painting pictures for him of the other knights in Daavis, enjoying good company, good wine and a comfortable bed at night. All he had was three other knights who stank worse than he did, fresh water and a horse blanket. And the constant birdsong was starting to irritate him.

With the sixth cask in place he dressed quickly in his stained leather breeches and jerkin. He started strapping on his greaves and breastplate, but the day was getting hot and he decided to leave them off. He tucked them between the casks and began the walk back to the outpost, only a league away but at the top of a steep hill. His stomach rumbled and he hoped one of the others had started the breakfast fire. He cursed himself then, for he had forgotten that one of his tasks that morning had been to gather more wood. He was about to turn back when he noticed smoke coming from the top of the hill.

Worat on the dawn guard must have been able to scrape together enough chips and twigs to start cooking. He decided he could get the firewood later and resumed the climb up the hill, but stopped again when he saw just how big a fire Worat had started.

He's burning the corned beef again, Serefa told himself, and cursed loudly. Thick white smoke puffed above the hill. The idiot's using the green wood meant for the signal fire…

'Oh, shit!' he cursed. He let go of the donkey's lead and ran up the hill as fast as his legs would carry him. When he got there he found the other three knights already dressed and holding the leads of their mounts. His horse had been saddled for him.

'Where?' he asked.

Worat pointed northeast, and Serefa saw a long streaming line of enemy soldiers. Judging by the speed the line was moving they must be cavalry, for all that they looked like ants from this high up.

'About a hundred riders?'

'About,' agreed one of the others. 'Scouting party.'

'And coming this way,' he said absently and to no one in particular. His stomach rumbled again. 'They're at least an hour away.'

Worat snorted. 'You and your gut can wait until we get to Daavis,' he said.

They started down the hill, meeting the donkey halfway. They filled their water bottles from one of the casks, and Serefa retrieved his armour, before continuing.

'Do you think they were Chetts?' Serefa asked.

'We can wait and ask them if you like,' Worat said.

'Kind of you to offer, but I'd rather not—'

Worat yelped and turned round in his saddle. Serefa had time to see the short black arrow sticking out of the knight's eye before he toppled off his horse. Something hissed by his ear and he heard the man behind him gargle blood. Without thinking, Serefa threw himself over his horse and kicked his heels in. The horse was too afraid of the slope to move, and Serefa cursed it as he threw himself off. Just as he did so an arrow thwacked into the saddle, and then another into the animal's neck. The horse screamed and dropped. The third knight was half running, half scrabbling down the slope. He had almost reached the bottom when a single Chett leaped up from behind a depression with his bow and used it like an axe, whacking it across the knight's face. The knight fell backward, jerked like a puppet and then was still.

Serefa drew his sword and charged downhill, sliding and slipping, desperately trying to keep his balance and watching as the Chett righted his bow and fitted another arrow. His feet skidded out from under him when he was only two paces from the Chett, and a hastily fired arrow parted his hair. Serefa could not control his fall, and he barrelled into the Chett, sending him pinwheeling back into the depression he had been hiding in. When Serefa regained his footing he looked over the edge and saw that the Chett had broken his neck. His sword drooped and his shoulders slumped. Then it occurred to him the Chett might not have been alone. He frantically looked around him, but saw no sign of any more enemies. Keeping his heart under control he checked on his fellows. All three were dead. Two horses had been killed as well and another was lame. The fourth horse—Worat's—was nowhere in sight. Serefa heard a noise and looked up to see a horse he did not recognise galloping north around the hill. The Chett's mount, he reasoned. Now what could he do? The enemy column would catch up with him for sure if he tried to make it back to Daavis by foot.

The donkey brayed.

'Shut up,' Serefa snapped. He blinked. The donkey. He sheathed his sword, quickly unloaded the water casks and led the donkey to level ground. Once there he carefully clambered onto its back. Without saddle or stirrups it took him some time to get it to go in the direction he wanted, but eventually they were moving at a pace that would have been something like a slow trot for a horse. With luck, he would keep just far enough ahead of the Chetts to survive until he made Daavis.

With luck, he repeated to himself.

It occurred to him then that being in Daavis might not put him in a more secure position. If there was a Chett scouting column heading south there was probably a Chett army not far behind it, and Serefa had no trouble guessing where that was heading.

Mally rolled the knucklebone. It landed with the number five uppermost. 'That's it!' he cried. 'That's what I need!' He moved his white stone five spaces along the polygonal playing area he had scratched in the walkway, landing on a red stone. 'Your duke is gone!'

The old soldier grunted, then smiled at the small boy squatting opposite him. 'Indeed. I think you have won the war.'

Mally grinned from ear to ear. 'Did you let me win, Brettin?'

'I would not cheat you like that, Mally,' the soldier said. Not absolutely true. When his grandson was just learning the game Brettin had let him win quite a few times, but not for over a year now. And Mally won more often than not. He was a smart boy. Too smart to be a soldier, Brettin thought. Alas, it is all he's interested in. Well, his poor father had been one after me, so it's not surprising.

'What were you keeping in your castle?' Mally asked.

'Let's see.' Brettin flipped over the shells hiding his last few stones. 'Two spearmen and an archer. What about you?'

Mally lifted his shells one by one. None of them had anything underneath.

'You little rascal,' Brettin laughed. 'I could have taken your castle any time.'

'But you didn't,' Mally laughed back. 'Another game?'

'I have to do my rounds soon, Mally…'

'Oh, Brettin, please? It won't take more than a few minutes.'

'God, who's cocky all of a sudden?' He mussed Mally's hair. 'Alright. I'll set up first this time.'

Mally agreed and stood up to stretch his legs. Brettin collected all the stones and shells and started deploying his troops, selecting a battering ram this time, together with the swordsmen to support it. Mally's father had been good with a sword, he remembered. But not good enough to beat off a Chett lancer. He forced himself to think about something else. His grandchildren. That would do. And his fine daughter-in-law, whom he loved as if she had been his blood daughter, and who loved him as dearly in return. Little Serven, only two, and sweet Mally, whom he loved above all else in the world. He would have to talk to Mally's mother about getting him real schooling and a real job, one that would not have him spilling his guts on a dusty, blasted battlefield. A tear came then. He wiped it away with a rough finger and concentrated on deploying his pieces.

Mally, meanwhile, was taking advantage of being allowed on the wall. It was not often his grandfather got patrol duty up here, and he loved to look out over the city and the wide, gentle Barda River to the south and the wide, gentle countryside to the north. One day he would go exploring. He would follow the river to its source in the Ufero Mountains and discover gold. And when he was rich he would make an army for the great queen in Kendra, and lead it north to defeat Haxus and then on to the Oceans of Grass to take his revenge on the Chetts for the death of his father.

North, across all those miles of farms and fields and rolling hills…

'Brettin.'

'Yes, Mally.'

'I see smoke.'

'From a farmhouse?'

'No. White smoke. A whole tower of smoke. And there's another, south of the first.'

Brettin stood up so quickly he dropped his spear. 'Fuck,' he said under his breath. 'They're coming.'

Mally, who knew when to pretend and when not to pretend to hear Brettin swearing, said: 'The Chetts?'

Brettin nodded. He picked up his spear and trotted to the nearest tower to give the alarm, Mally close on his heels.

Others watched the white smoke as well, and for them it meant something else.

'I'm sorry, Lynan,' Korigan said. 'The scouts failed. Daavis has been warned.'

Lynan nodded wearily. 'Well, it can't be helped. The enemy was better prepared this time. I had not counted on them establishing so many outposts so quickly.'

'We can reach Daavis by nightfall if we push the army.'

'No. We will arrive too tired and too late to do anything useful before it is too dark to fight. Truth, the city will be locked to us, and our cavalry will be of little use. We will wait until tomorrow.'

'The Haxan sappers want us to cut wood for their machines.'

'Fine. But not now. When we reach the city there will be time to cut down whole forests if needs be. There's no reason for us to carry more than we have to on the way. This army moves slow enough as it is.'

Korigan grinned at him. 'You are used to a purely Chett army. Now we have Salokan's infantry.'

'And demoralised infantry at that. They have been beaten too many times this year to have much heart for the business of war.'

'A victory will fix that.'

'Then let's make sure we give them one.'

Korigan studied Lynan's face. She could see the lines of worry creasing the corners of his mouth and eyes, the deep furrow that seemed permanently ploughed across his brow. The campaign in Haxus had been a fast, vicious one but she had some idea how much it had taken out of him. She wanted to lean over and kiss him, but to do that in front of his army would embarrass him.

'You will have your victory, my love,' she whispered.

'This time, yes. I will not let Grenda Lear defeat me twice.' He turned to her and smiled slightly. 'I have no doubt about that.'

Korigan saw that it was true, and felt a twinge of fear. Since the night they had made love she hoped she had learned something more about him, but in the clear light of day she knew the hope was fruitless. He was something new in her experience, a warrior and innocent at the same time, and she did not know how to make sense of that. In his rage, when he became more than a man, or maybe less than a man, he was terrifying, and yet for the rest he was small and almost childlike, but weighed down with worry. He did not want to fight, but only battle seemed to liberate him; the problem was, she did not think she could ever love the Lynan who swept all before him, the one who could not be wounded, the one who revelled in slaughter. And yet it was those very characteristics that had married his followers to him. The Chert warrior believed Lynan was almost godlike. They would follow him to their deaths if need be, and willingly. And Korigan knew that if it would advance his cause, to their deaths he would send them.

In that we are different, she told herself, and prayed that it was true.

Farben pretended not to notice that Charion and Galen came out of her bedchamber together, both quickly strapping on sword belts and slipping mail hauberks over their heads. In fact, he hoped a lover might improve his queen's notorious temper.

'Two signal fires?' she demanded of him, snapping the question.

Well, perhaps it would improve her temper over time. 'Yes, your Majesty.'

'Only two?'

Farben sighed. How many more ways could she ask the question? 'Yes, your Majesty.'

Charion and Galen exchanged glances. 'That means the Chett scouts were well ahead of their army,' Galen said. 'It's the only way they could have surprised so many of the outposts.'

'We may be lucky to have got any warning at all.'

'I'll lead a detachment out right away. See if we can pin down the direction of their advance.'

'No,' Charion said.

Farben noticed the cross expression that flickered over Galen's face. Oh, good. Two of them with tempers like rutting bears. That was all the court needed.

'But we have to know what Lynan's intentions are,' Galen insisted.

'You're thinking like a commander in the field, not in a city preparing for a siege. We know what Lynan's intentions are. He's heading straight for us. We know how fast his army can move. If they're not here tonight, they'll be here by tomorrow. What more can you learn by leading some of your knights north of the city? Other than what it feels like to be skewered by a Chett arrow, I mean.'

Galen opened his mouth to reply, but his brain was working faster than his tongue and he closed it again. Farben noticed that, too, and decided the Kendran noble—just like Charion—might have some redeeming features after all.

'Get your knights together and keep them away from the walls. I don't want them tied down defending; I've got plenty of infantry to handle that. What I need is a sally force.'

Galen smiled grimly. 'It would suit us best,' he admitted. 'What about you?'

'My place is with my people. You can find me on the walls.'

They stopped for a moment, shared a look that Farben could have translated had he wanted to, and went in different directions. Farben followed Charion, cleared his mind for the list of instructions that would follow.

'First, all my commanders are to meet me at the main gate. Second, all who can carry a weapon are to collect one from the armoury, including any of the wounded who can walk. Third, send a carrier pigeon to Kendra. Tell them we will be under siege within a day. Ask them if they have an army on its way. Anything. What about Jes Prado and his mercenaries? Where are they?'

'Yes, your Majesty.'

They had left the palace and were now striding up the city's central avenue to the main gate. Charion waved confidently to anyone they passed. 'Are you still following me, Farben?'

'In case you have more instructions,' he said defensively.

'I have no more instructions,' she said. 'For now.'

It was almost dark when the main part of Lynan's force arrived outside the walls of Daavis. Under explicit instructions not to assault the city, the Chert banners stayed out of bow range. When Lynan arrived soon after nightfall he listened to the reports of his banner leaders and scouts, then decided to ride out and inspect the city walls himself.

'But it is dark,' one of the officers pointed out.

Lynan smiled thinly. 'I will see well enough.'

The officer blushed. 'I should not question—'

'Do not apologise,' Lynan interrupted him. 'It is not wrong to question.'

His commanders bowed and left; Korigan, Ager and Gudon stayed behind.

'Exactly how well do you see at night?' Ager asked.

'Almost as well as you might during the day.'

Ager patted his empty eye socket. 'That's not saying a great deal.'

'I think my night vision is as good as Silona's.'

The mention of the wood vampire's name made everyone fall silent. Lynan studied their faces, noticing they would not meet his eyes, not even Korigan. It made him feel lonely.

'I'd best get started,' he said and went to his horse.

'Do you want company?' Korigan asked.

Lynan mounted, looked down at the small group of friends. He saw their love for him in their eyes and he felt a surge of love for all of them in turn, and a frustrating fear that he could not protect them all from harm. I feel like a father to them, he thought, forgetting he was the youngest of all.

'I will be fine,' he told Korigan and tapped the horse into motion. Gudon rode beside him. Lynan smiled at him.

'You do not believe I will be fine?'

'Truth, little master, I believe you would be fine swimming in the Barda River in the middle of a school of jaizru.'

Lynan's smile turned into a grin. He too easily remembered the horror and panic he had felt the first and last time he had encountered the flying eels. Invulnerable or not, it was not something he would care to experience again.

'Then you must be going to tell me something very important and very wise.'

'You mock me,' Gudon said insincerely, matching Lynan's grin.

'Indeed,' Lynan admitted. 'So get on with it.'

Gudon's expression became more serious. 'You cannot protect us by turning us away from you.'

Lynan did not try to hide his surprise. 'How did you know—?'

Gudon waved one hand. 'We have gone through too much together for me not to understand how you sometimes think and sometimes feel, especially about those you care for. Losing Kumul has wounded you deeper than you will ever admit, even to yourself. But this is a war, Lynan, and we have attached ourselves to your fortunes for good or ill. We each of us made that decision for ourselves. Do not turn your back on us thinking that will save us from harm.'

Lynan blushed. 'I would never turn my back on you, Gudon, or any of the others.'

'Not intentionally. We are your friends, Lynan, your companions-in-arms, not your children.'

Lynan nodded. 'I will not forget.'

Gudon smiled again. 'Then that is all the wisdom I have for you!' he declared and stopped his horse, letting Lynan pull ahead.

He had not gone more than fifty paces when another horse drew alongside him. 'Where do you go, Lynan?' asked the rider.

'Jenrosa. Are you keeping well?'

'There is something we must talk about.'

'You too? Can it wait? I want to see the walls of Daavis—'

'I will come with you,' she said in a voice that meant, 'I will come with you whether you like it or not.'

'You ignored my question,' he observed.

And, as if to prove a point, she continued to ignore it. They rode together out of the main camp. The city walls rose white out of a dark plain. They looked formidable to Lynan, and he remembered they had proven themselves against Salokan. He counted the towers, and was even able to see the helms and lances of the city guards as they patrolled along the walls. He rode east first, then south to the Barda River. There he met patrols of Ager's Ocean Clan waiting with bows to ambush any barge that attempted to leave the river downstream.

I should have thought of that, Lynan told himself. What else have I missed? What would Kumul be telling me now?

The thought of Kumul filled him with grief. He still had not had time to properly mourn the death of his friend. Ever since the death of his father when he was asmall boy, Kumul had been his teacher and guardian, and had loved Lynan like a son. He glanced at Jenrosa and knew Kumul's death must be at least as hard on her. Why had she not spoken to him yet? She said she had something to talk to him about.

'I miss Kumul,' he said, surprised by the words. And then—with sudden certainty—he knew why he had said them.

Jenrosa looked taken aback. Lynan could hear her breath quicken. 'This isn't the time—'

'This is exactly the right time,' he said quickly. 'We haven't really talked since his death. We haven't sat down together and talked like friends; we haven't remembered him together like friends. I haven't even talked to Ager about any of this.'

'I don't want to talk about it,' she said flatly. 'I don't want to remember the pain. We're in the middle of a war, and by the end of it Kumul's death will be…' Her voice trailed off. She was going to say 'insignificant', but the lie stopped in her throat.

He reached out to touch her hand, but she retreated from him. Humiliated, not sure what to do, he withdrew. Jenrosa, too, seemed unsure what to do, or where to look.

Eventually Lynan said: 'What is it you wanted to see me about?'

For a moment Jenrosa looked as if she did not understand the question.

'I'm sorry,' she started, her tone apologetic, but he cut her off with a wave of his hand.

'What did you want to see me about?' he insisted, his voice hard now.

'The Chetts are being attacked on the Oceans of Grass.'

'Who could possibly be attacking the Chetts?' he asked, his disbelief obvious.

'The enemy fight on foot, and they carry a pennant with a design of a bird I do not recognise.'

'How do you know this? What magik…?'

'Strong magik, Lasthear tells me.' Jenrosa was about to say more, but changed her mind.

'Are you sure it is not something that has happened in the distant past? Or is still to be?'

She shook her head. 'I used the magik two mornings ago. I'm sure I saw the attack as it was happening.'

'Two mornings ago?' he demanded, suddenly in a rage. 'God, woman, why didn't you tell me then?'

Suddenly nervous, Jenrosa said: 'Because I wasn't sure of what I'd done and seen.'

'Unsure?' He almost bellowed the word. Jenrosa heard it ring out across the fields.

'Unsure about my magik,' she said quickly, trying to keep her voice hushed. 'I didn't want to believe I was doing it.'

Lynan sat back in his saddle. The rage fell away from him, and he was left confused. He did not understand what she meant, but he could sense the fear in her. 'But, Jenrosa, two days…'

'I'm here now,' she said. 'And I couldn't tell you in front of anyone else. I had to wait until you were alone.'

'Why?'

'It was the Horse Clan, Lynan. It was a massacre. I'm not sure, but I think there were no more than a handful of survivors.'

'Eynon's clan?' He was aghast. 'Wiped out?'

She nodded. 'What was left of it on the Oceans of Grass.'

'God.'

'All he has now are the warriors he brought with him to serve you.'

'It's my fault,' he muttered, his voice distant.

'That's a stupid thing to say,' she said abruptly. 'You didn't know this would happen. And who's to say if Eynon had still been there the outcome would have been any different? But he'll want to go back.'

'No,' Lynan said emphatically.

'What do you mean? He has to go back.'

'You said yourself there were probably no more than a handful of survivors. What will he go back to?'

'But the enemy, whoever it is, may still be there!' she said, her voice rising. 'They have to be dealt with!'

'I need Eynon and his warriors here for the attack on Daavis. If he rushes off to the Oceans of Grass I will have to call off the siege and we lose the initiative. I can't afford to let Areava dictate what happens in this war. Besides, we don't know that the attacker is still on the plains.'

'But if they are they could overrun the Oceans of Grass!'

'I won't let it be overrun!' he snapped. 'There are still thousands of warriors on the plain—'

'The best are with you, Lynan. You know that.'

'I will do what is best for all the Chetts,' he said.

'You mean you'll do what's best for Lynan. The two aren't necessarily the same thing.'

'I will do what's best for the Chetts,' he repeated coldly. 'Having them retreat back to the Oceans of Grass serves no one except Areava.'

'Eynon will find out.'

'I can't stop you from telling him—'

'Oh, stop it, Lynan! He won't find out from me! But even if there were no survivors, another clan's outriders will eventually come across the battle site. Or worse, whoever the attacker is will strike at another clan. How long do you think it will be before a rider comes with the news? A month? Less?'

He glanced at the walls of Daavis. 'I only need a month.'

'And what then? All of Haxus and Hume under your heel, what's next on your list?'

'What are you talking about? This isn't just about Lynan Rosetheme. It's about revealing Berayma's murderers. It's about Areava sending mercenaries against the Chetts. It's about keeping free the trade routes between east and west. It's about putting Ager back in his captain's uniform.' He jabbed a finger at Jenrosa and his voice started rising. 'And it's about getting you back in the theurgia which is all you've cared about since we escaped from Kendra!'

Without thinking Jenrosa slapped Lynan's face. He recoiled from her like a released spring. She looked at her hand and for a moment thought she could see blood on it. She screamed and rubbed it against her vest and looked at it again. There was nothing there, not even a smear. When she looked up again Lynan was already gone, heading north again. For a long while she did not move. She was paralysed by what she had done. 'I'm sorry,' she said, too weakly for Lynan to hear.