The Diamond Isle

6

No one would have begrudged the warlord riding in a splendid battle sledge, or on the back of a magnificent charger. But that wasn’t Zerreiss’s way. He chose to walk, and his followers loved him for it.

He marched at the head of an army unlike any the so called barbarous lands had ever seen before. Its numbers could only be guessed at. The great multitude covered the vast plain it crossed, so much so that the layers of snow they trampled underfoot couldn’t be seen. They resembled a plague of ravenous insects carpeting the earth.

As remarkable as its size was the constituency of the horde. Many of its members were drawn from the lands Zerreiss had conquered, yet no element of coercion had been involved. Nor were there mercenaries in its ranks, as was often the practice when armies were mustered. Far from being driven by the lash, or marching for the hope of coin, the prevalent mood was that of a crusade.

The one they followed bore many epithets-the Scythe, the Silk Claw, the Man Who Fell From the Sun-though all had been bestowed, not claimed by him. Yet few men belied his titles as much as Zerreiss. There was nothing outstanding or even particularly notable about his appearance. He was ordinary in face and form, and if he stood in line with a dozen others, he would be the last to be remembered. However, the way he looked had nothing to do with the extraordinary charisma he possessed. No words could describe his allure. His empathy with the troops, and infectious passion for his cause, inspired a loyalty that was genuine and bottomless.

Though still in the region loosely designated the northern wastes, they had made considerable headway in their journey southward. Thus far, no force had successfully stood against them, or even appreciably slowed their progress. But for all that Zerreiss had led them a great distance from his place of birth, in the inhospitable core of the barbarous heartlands, the weather wasn’t noticeably kinder. The temperature rarely lifted above freezing. For weeks the snow had been continual. Now they were enjoying a rare day without it, and the sun had appeared to lift their numbed spirits.

The warlord was flanked by his two principal aides. Sephor was the younger of the pair, and might have been thought too tender in years to hold a position of such responsibility were it not for his proven skills. Wellem was an old campaigner, a veteran of many conflicts, whose experience and good sense proved an ideal counterweight to the younger man’s comparative rawness. Both had licence to speak freely in the presence of their leader; indeed, Zerreiss insisted upon it.

As they reached the top of a hill covered in ankle-deep snow, they paused to catch their breath and look to the host tramping in their wake. The tundra was black with an uncountable mass of warriors. Hundreds of siege towers bobbed amongst the crowd, and as many massive catapults were being hauled, while thousands of drums kept up an incessant rhythm.

‘You must find it very pleasing, sir,’ Wellem said, ‘to have so many flocking to your banner.’

‘When you show them the truth,’ Zerreiss replied, ‘the people rally.’

‘Could it not be, my lord, that they’re drawn to power?’ Sephor wondered.

‘You have a very cynical view of human nature, Sephor, for one so young.’

‘I hope that isn’t true, sir,’ the younger man returned earnestly.

Zerreiss smiled. ‘Of course it isn’t. But sometimes you’re so serious I can’t resist tugging at those chains of sobriety you bind yourself with.’

‘Our aim is serious.’

‘Indeed. But you must learn to trust me, and know that through me we will prevail.’

‘I have faith in you, sir. It’s those we’ll be up against that I don’t trust.’

‘Then you’re saying you doubt my power over them, Sephor. Haven’t you seen enough of my victories to put such fears behind you?’

‘More than enough, sir. But this is different. We’ve never been so bold as this before.’

‘People are people, whether they be citizens of the empires or thought of as savages. The gift I have for them will be equally prized.’

‘We’ve certainly found that to be true up to now,’ Wellem chimed in. ‘But Sephor does have a point, if I may say so, my lord. We’re not going against some chieftain’s clan or a city state this time. It’s imperial forces we’ll be facing, and not just one empire but the pair of them.’

‘In attacking protectorates of Rintarah and Gath Tampoor simultaneously we stand a chance of breaking their fragile truce in these parts,’ Zerreiss reminded him. ‘If their rulers back in their capitals blame each other they’ll do our work for us. More animosity between the empires can only serve our long term aims.’

‘I can see the possible benefit in tweaking both their tails, sir, but I’m worried about splitting our forces to do it.’

Zerreiss indicated the army with a sweep of his hand. ‘You think we lack sufficient numbers?’

‘It wasn’t our armed strength I had in mind. I’m concerned that you can’t be in two places at once.’

The warlord laughed. ‘Even my abilities fall short of that, Wellem.’

‘Make light of it if you will, my lord, but you can’t dismiss the problem.’

‘Problem?’

‘While you’re here for the storming of Gath Tampoor’s outpost, the rest of your army approaches Rintarah’s without you. How are they going to fare?’

‘You overlook the fact that my reputation moves ahead of us. The defenders there, and here, will know about the others who’ve fallen to us. Don’t underestimate that advantage.’

‘What about the morale of the army marching against Rintarah’s settlement?’ Sephor wondered. ‘If you’re not with them-’

‘They’re perfectly capable of achieving their mission without me. In fact, that’s part of my intention.’

‘Sir?’

‘Wellem here was only stating the obvious by saying I can’t be in more than one place at a time. Yet as our campaign proceeds we’ll be increasingly fighting on several fronts at once. The army needs to know it can win victory without my presence. To some extent they have to be weaned off their reliance on me. We’ll never achieve our goals otherwise.’

‘I can see the sense in that, sir.’

‘I mean to plan for future eventualities, too.’

‘How do you mean, my lord?’

‘I’m just as vulnerable as the next man. If I take an arrow in this battle, or get cut down in a cavalry charge, I’ll be no less dead. I want to be sure my work doesn’t die with me.’

From the looks on their faces, neither aide had considered the possibility of Zerreiss’s mortality.

‘How could we carry on without you?’ Wellem said. ‘If you weren’t here, the gods forbid, what would inspire us?’

‘I’m touched that you should feel that way,’ the warlord replied with genuine warmth. ‘But that’s exactly the attitude that has to change. I’d want the momentum of what I’ve begun to carry you through. The worst way you could repay me would be to abandon our cause simply because I couldn’t finish it with you. My wish is to kindle a movement, not self-aggrandisement.’

They knew this to be true.

‘Be assured,’ he added in a lighter tone, ‘that if our forces attacking Rintarah’s outpost run into fierce opposition, I’ll travel east to join them. Does that make you feel better?’

His aides chorused that it did, though they found it hard to conceal a note of unease about what he’d told them.

Sephor wanted something clarifying. ‘You said that our actions today could set the empires at each other’s throats, sir, even more than they already are, that is. But surely when word reaches their capitals they’ll know the truth?’

‘If we bring about more discord between the empires it’ll be a bonus; it isn’t our main target. As to word getting back; they’ll hear what we want them to. The more conquests we make, the more we control the channels of communication.’

‘That will soon be like trying to bail out the ocean, my lord,’ Wellem offered.

‘The empires used to neglect these lands. Now they encroach by the day, mostly because of your victories. The expeditions Gath Tampoor and Rintarah sent into our waters are an example.’

‘At the moment we need to move with caution. But soon we’ll reach a level of dominance where it won’t matter what they do. And you’ve no need to worry about those two little armadas. I’ve taken steps against them.’

He said nothing more, and they didn’t press him. Now rested, they moved on. The sky was starting to darken again, promising the return of snow. The army burrowed deeper into their furs.

The scenery, too, had started to alter. Trees had been felled, and through the expanse of white there were traces of low stone walls slicing the land into growing fields. Clear signs that they were nearing their objective.

‘I hope you’ll forgive me if I raise a sensitive matter, my lord,’ Sephor ventured.

‘You’ve been with me long enough to know there are few sensitive matters in my company. What is it?’

‘These dreams you’ve been having, sir…’

‘Ah. Sensitive in a way, because they’ve challenged my view of the world. Though I still think they’re a part of nature rather than outside it, for all their incredible vivacity. Not like dreams at all.’

‘Do you have any understanding of them?’

‘Understanding, no. But there’s a…compulsion in them. I’ve no doubt there’s a reason why I’m having them. And I’m quite aware of the irony that I, of all people, should pay attention to something like ethereal dreams. But the man I saw in them, though it was more like an encounter than seeing, that man felt like part of what’s supposed to happen. I can’t put it plainer than that.’

‘It’s strange to hear you talking that way, sir,’ Wellem observed.

‘I’ve never denied the possibility of a spiritual domain, only the malign part it can play in people’s lives. Perhaps we are directed by gods for their own fickle reasons. Who knows?’

‘And you intend seeking this man,’ Sephor asked, ‘assuming he’s real?’

‘I’m sure he’s real, and somehow I have the feeling that in moving south I’m drawing nearer to him.’ He smiled. ‘Don’t ask me how.’

They were climbing another hill, much steeper than the previous one. The vanguard of the army was close on their heels.

‘Have you managed to identify the power lines in this area?’ Zerreiss said.

‘As best we could, sir,’ Sephor replied, ‘but there’s an abnormality nearby. In fact, we should be able to see it any minute now.’

They trudged to the peak and took in a panoramic view. Straight ahead, perhaps a mile distant, stood a substantial walled township. An impressive fortress rose at its heart, pulsating with magical defences, whilst outside the settlement’s gates an army was massed, waiting for the onslaught. It was an arresting sight, but not the most dramatic to be seen; that was to the west, and all eyes were drawn to it.

On the horizon, a geyser of magical energy spurted high into the sky. It might have been said to resemble an anchored tornado, except that it displayed qualities no normal storm ever possessed. Every colour of the spectrum vied for dominance within its swirling interior, and the whole swaying column glowed with a silvery radiance. Its base generated thick clouds of vibrant, sparkling dust which also constantly altered colour. Within those clouds, things moved, shapes that melted, mutated and defied clarity.

The column’s tip reached a giddy height. Above it, the snow-heavy clouds acted as a vast canvas for a pageant of images painted by the escaping magic. They were ever changing, and never quite settled on a definite likeness. Yet to any looking on they suggested a myriad possibilities. Beasts real and imagined seemed to dwell there, along with giant insects, birds, blooming flowers, phantom armies, blazing comets, faces beautiful and grotesque, and oceans breaking against imaginary shorelines. The effect was hypnotic.

‘A rupture,’ Zerreiss stated. ‘How long has this been going on?’

‘Several months, apparently,’ Sephor explained. ‘We’re not sure what set it off. Possibly a landside.’

‘Look on it,’ the warlord commanded, ‘and see the very essence of what we oppose. You’ll have no better portrait of that which enslaves those we hope to free.’

‘It can’t be denied that it has a certain splendour, my lord.’

‘It’s beguiling all right. So is a blue pit-spider, a gold ring-serpent or a pride of barbcats. This is just as beautiful, and more deadly than all of them put together.’

‘It does have one advantage, sir, in that it’s likely to bleed the magic in these parts, and reduce the amount available to the defenders.’ Sephor gestured at the settlement with a gloved hand.

‘You forget how irrelevant that is to us.’

The aide grinned. ‘Of course, sir. Silly of me.’

‘As I said, Sephor, have faith.’

‘What are your orders, sir?’ Wellem enquired.

‘I see no reason to change our customary method. The defenders must be given the chance to lay down their arms.’

‘The negotiators were sent out in advance, my lord, with the usual offer.’ He stared at the barren area in front of the settlement below. A small group of riders was heading their way. ‘I think that’s them returning now. Sephor, you have better sight than me.’

The young aide cupped his eyes with his hands. ‘Yes, it’s them. The leader’s holding a pennant. It’s…red.’

Zerreiss sighed. ‘As I feared. When will they learn that there doesn’t have to be bloodshed?’

‘They’re terrified of you, my lord,’ Wellem said. ‘They must have heard the stories about you being merciful, but somehow they don’t think it applies to them. All they take on board is that you’re a conqueror. We’ve seen it before.’

‘Or they have a greater fear of their masters than of me. Another case of better the devil you know.’

‘Professional fighting men don’t easily abandon their posts, sir. And rarely on the word of a warlord they know little about. It’s not to be wondered at that they’d make a stand.’

‘The contrary thing,’ Sephor commented, ‘is that inside a week I’ll wager half of them will be riding with us. Empire soldiers or not.’

‘Another irony I’m not blind to,’ Zerreiss came back. ‘If there was one thing it was in my power to alter, it would be the human cost of our campaign.’

‘How do we proceed, sir?’ Wellem asked.

‘Bring the army into plain sight, and let the siege engines be seen. Show them what they’re up against. Then we’ll give them a final opportunity to surrender with honour. Failing that…’

‘We fight.’

‘Not before I’ve tilted the odds in our favour. There’s still a chance we can avoid a slaughter.’

‘You’ll do it now, sir?’

‘There’s no point in waiting.’

Experience had taught Wellem and Sephor that there was no need to leave their master’s side when he performed the deed. Nevertheless, they did. It seemed prudent to stand well away in the face of such awe-inspiring power.

As word spread from the hilltop and down through the ranks of Zerreiss’s army, they fell silent, too. The drums were stilled. Even the horses and oxen grew quiet, if restive.

Standing on the hill’s summit, focused on the besieged settlement, the warlord raised his arms.

And the change began.