The Horsemen's Gambit

Chapter 20

It all happened much faster than she'd had any right to expect. The day after her second audience with His Lordship, Tirnya received word that

Maisaak had dispatched a messenger to Ofirean City. Within ten days of this man's departure the lord governor received a message back from the sovereign. She and her father had expected the exchange of missives to take close to a turn; instead they had taken less than half that time. By any measure, they had been remarkably fortunate.

And yet, for Tirnya, each day of waiting seemed an eternity. Whatever relief she had felt in learning that the lord governor had made his decision so quickly gave way to childlike impatience as she awaited the reply from Stelpana's royal city. She would go from being utterly certain one moment that the sovereign would approve their plan, to imagining in the next all sorts of reasons why Ankyr might say no. During this time she treated horribly everyone she knew. She knew it, and yet she could do nothing about it. She was far too rough on her men, pushing them so hard during their training sessions that afterward none of her lead riders would speak to her. At home, she was moody to the point of rudeness, speaking to her mother and father as if they were common servants. She avoided Enly entirely.

When at last His Lordship summoned Tirnya and her father to his palace to inform them of the sovereign's decision, Tirnya was so exhausted from the ordeal of waiting that she managed to convince herself she didn't care one way or another what Ankyr's message said. Of course, this didn't stop her from trembling with anticipation as she and Jenoe waited in the palace corridor to be admitted to Maisaak's chamber. She paced back and forth in front of Maisaak's door, muttering under her breath, reminding herself of all the reasons why the sovereign was bound to give his permission.

After some time, Jenoe said something to her, though Tirnya barely heard him.

She halted in front of him. "What?"

"I said, perhaps this time you should let me do the talking."

Tirnya frowned. "Why?"

Jenoe glanced at the two guards positioned on either side of the door. Both men were smirking.

"Because," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "I'm afraid of what you might say to His Lordship if this doesn't go the way you'd like it to."

She started to argue with him, then stopped herself. "I really have been dreadful, haven't I?"

Her father looked down at the floor, his lips pursed. After a moment he nodded. "Yes, you have."

"I'm sorry," she said. "By all means, speak for us. If His Lordship lets us go, you'll be in command anyway."

A moment later, the door opened, and the two of them were ushered into the chamber. Once again, Enly was already inside, and while Tirnya steadfastly avoided his gaze, she realized that she was glad to have him there, although she wasn't exactly certain why.

She and her father stopped just inside the doorway and bowed to the lord governor.

"Come in," Maisaak said. He wasn't smiling, but there was something in his voice that put Tirnya's mind at ease. He sounded pleased, and given his eagerness to be rid of her father, Tirnya assumed this meant that the sovereign had granted their request. "I'm sure you know why I summoned you here, so I won't waste your time or mine. The sovereign has granted me authority to send our armies west into Fal'Borna land, provided we succeed in forging an alliance with the Mettai."

Tirnya could barely contain her glee; she had to resist an urge to rush forward and throw her arms around His Lordship's neck. Just the idea of it made her giggle.

"Is something funny, Captain?" Maisaak asked.

"No, Your Lordship. I'm… I'm pleased."

"I imagine you are. I mentioned in my message to the sovereign that this was your idea, Captain," His Lordship went on. "He told me to commend you for your imaginative thinking. But he also wanted me to make clear that if the Mettai refuse your overtures, you're to return to Qalsyn. He doesn't want to risk this war without their aid."

"I understand, Your Lordship," Tirnya said.

"Good." Maisaak stepped behind his writing table and sat. "You'll take all the companies under your command, Jenoe. I'll be sending Enly and his soldiers with you, as well. And the sovereign has ordered sixteen companies from the north and a dozen from the south to meet you along the wash at Enka's Shallows."

Tirnya wasn't certain that she had heard him correctly. "But, Your Lordship-"

"Don't worry, Captain. The northern army comes out of Fairlea, the southern companies from Waterstone, and the sovereign has made clear to them that they'll be under your father's command."

She frowned. "Yes, Your Lordship, but-"

"She wasn't concerned about the other armies, Father," Enly said, watching her with a slight smile on his lips. "She's wondering why you'd send me along, when I've made it clear from the start that I don't approve of this venture."

His Lordship looked first at Enly and then at Tirnya. "Is that true, Captain?"

She hesitated. "Yes, Your Lordship."

"Do you want to explain?" Maisaak asked his son. "Or should I?"

"I volunteered for this," Enly said, not bothering to look at the lord governor. "I felt a bit responsible, since I was there when you first thought of approaching the Mettai. And I suppose I feel that I can be of some help."

Tirnya wasn't certain what to say. She couldn't even decide if she wanted him riding with them. It occurred to her that this might have been Maisaak's idea, that His Lordship might have instructed Enly to do whatever he could to see that the invasion failed. As quickly as this notion came to her, she dismissed it. Enly and his father hardly spoke to one another unless they had to. Maisaak wouldn't trust Enly with such a task, and Enly wouldn't take it on if he did. Forced to choose between Tirnya and his father, Enly would have chosen her. Everyone in the chamber knew it.

"We'll be glad to have you with us, my lord," Jenoe said, after a brief silence.

Enly inclined his head slightly. "Thank you, Marshal."

"You'll be leading them, Jenoe," His Lordship said. "Even with my son there, this is your army to command."

"You honor me, Your Lordship. With such fine captains riding at my side, we're sure to prevail."

Maisaak's smile this time was thin and clearly forced. "Indeed," he said. He turned his attention back to the scrolls on his writing table. "You all have much to do in the next few days. Enly, tell the quartermaster to gather and prepare provisions for two thousand men. Jenoe, I'd suggest you send some of your men to the armory. You'll want to have at least five hundred bows with you, and I'm not certain we have that many ready right now." He looked at Tirnya. "Captain, I'd like you to speak with the stablemaster. Obviously most of your soldiers will be on foot. But all told you'll have close to forty commanders and lead riders. The stablemaster may need a few days to equip that many beasts."

"Yes, Your Lordship. I'll see to it immediately."

"Good. Keep me apprised of your progress."

"Forgive me, Your Lordship," Jenoe said. "But when last we spoke, I told you that I could pay for provisions out of my family's treasury. I fully intend-"

"No need, Jenoe," Maisaak said. "The sovereign has pledged to pay the costs of this war. We don't need your gold."

Jenoe eyed the man for just a moment. "Yes, Your Lordship." Maisaak nodded once. "That's all."

Tirnya, Jenoe, and Enly left the chamber together, none of them saying a thing as they made their way through the palace corridors. Only when they reached the city lanes did Enly stop and face them.

"I just want to repeat what my father told you in there," he said. "I have no desire to lead this army, Marshal, and I won't do anything to challenge your authority."

"Thank you, my lord," Jenoe said.

"I'd suggest you get used to calling me captain. We don't want to give the men any reason to question who's in command."

Jenoe smiled. "You're right. Captain."

Enly smiled in turn, nodded once to Tirnya, and walked away. "I'm not sure I trust him," Tirnya said, gazing after him.

"I don't trust him at all," Jenoe answered, surprising her. "I say that not as his commander-I trust him entirely in that regard." He glanced at her, his eyes twinkling. "It's as your father that I have my doubts."

Over the next several days, all of Qalsyn seemed to come to life, like a bees' nest that's been prodded with a stick. Now that it was no longer a secret, word of the impending attack on the Fal'Borna spread swiftly to every corner of the city. Suddenly, every man, woman, and child was working with a single purpose: to provision and arm Jenoe's army. Though many of the soldiers under Tinrya's command might have had their doubts about the wisdom of her plan, they all trained with a passion and purpose she had never seen in them before. And knowing now what had been concealed from them previously, they seemed to forgive Tirnya for how hard she had pushed them.

It was another six days after their meeting with Maisaak before all was ready for Jenoe's army to march from the city gates. On that seventh morning, with a fine, cold mist falling on the city, all the people of Qalsyn turned out to see the soldiers off. Zira stood at the front of the crowd with Tirnya's twin brothers, Galdry and Laeris. The boys were still a year shy of their fourth four, but they had argued with Jenoe late into the night, begging him to let them march to war. Zira had said little to Tirnya over the past few days. But Tirnya had heard her speaking with Jenoe as well, pleading with him not to go. On this morning, her face looked puffy and her eyes were red-rimmed. She wouldn't meet Tirnya's gaze.

Maisaak was there as well, standing beside Riyette, Her Ladyship, whose golden hair seemed to shimmer in the grey light.

"Gods keep you safe," the lord governor said, his voice barely carrying in the still, damp air. His pale blue eyes flicked ever so briefly toward his son. "All of you. We'll await word of your success."

"Thank you, Your Lordship," Jenoe said. He pulled his sword free and held it to his forehead in salute. The rest of the commanders and soldiers did the same.

His blade still in hand, Jenoe steered his mount through the city gate and out into the rolling hills that surrounded Qalsyn. His captains, including Tirnya and Enly, followed, and behind them came a long column of soldiers, their helms and weapons gleaming. Some in the crowd that had gathered to watch them leave cheered and called out the names of their friends and loved ones. Most remained silent. In all, it struck Tirnya as a solemn affair, and she feared there was an ill omen in the grave aspect of those who had lined the city lanes.

They marched northwestward, toward the Companion Lakes. By late in the day, the skies had cleared, and the wind had freshened from the west. With the dreary weather behind them, Tirnya's mood improved. Though Jenoe chose not to push the men too hard that first day, they still managed to cover more than two leagues before stopping for the night. As they made camp under a darkening sky of indigo, she decided that she'd been foolish that morning, and that omens were for children and superstitious fools. She was a soldier, helping to lead a fine army. Their success or failure would be determined by their training and the soundness of their strategy, not by gloomy skies and the facial expressions of wet, tired cityfolk.

Over the next several days, Jenoe gradually increased the length of their marches. Tirnya and her father had estimated the distance between Qalsyn and the southernmost Mettai villages in the Companion Lakes region at just over forty leagues, and with the good weather holding, and the moons offering some light after nightfall, they expected that they could cover that distance in twelve days or so, fewer if they were lucky.

For the most part, the soldiers remained in good spirits throughout the march. Occasionally, at the end of a particularly long day, they began to grouse a bit. But usually a meal and a good night's sleep mollified them, and by the next morning, they were ready to resume their journey northward.

Riding with her father and the other captains, Tirnya could hardly fault the soldiers for their complaints. It was a far more arduous journey for them than it was for her. Still she couldn't help but take pride in the fact that it was men from other companies who grumbled most loudly. Her soldiers comported themselves well, and if on some days they felt that the marshal drove them too hard, they kept silent about it.

Enly rode with the commanders, of course. But he spoke little, and he always made camp with his soldiers, slightly apart from the rest of Jenoe's army. He and Tirnya avoided each other, which suited her just fine. She spent most of her time with her father and Stri Balkett, or with her own lead riders. This was her first major military expedition, and despite the uncertainties and the dangers, she couldn't help but be excited.

As they approached the Companion Lakes region, the terrain began to change, and so did the weather. The plain gave way to rolling hills; the open land was replaced by thick forests of cedar, spruce, and pine. At the same time, the air grew colder, though the skies remained clear. Ravens Wash, which they had followed all the way from Qalsyn, flowed more swiftly here, its waters roiled and frothy. Before them, though still a good distance off, loomed the jagged, white-capped peaks of the Border Range. Tirnya had grown up within sight of the Aelind Mountains, but never before had she seen summits as high and imposing as these.

On the tenth day out from Qalsyn, the wind shifted so that it blew directly from the north and seemed to carry with it the cold of those distant snowy ridges. That night, the camp glowed bright orange with all the fires lit by Jenoe's army. Tirnya huddled in her sleeping roll throughout the night, sleeping poorly, and thinking, despite her better judgment, of the warm nights she had passed in Enly's bed. When she awoke the following morning, the ground and her sleeping roll both were coated with a thin white frost.

They broke camp quickly. For once every soldier under her father's command seemed eager to be marching.

As they started out, Enly rode past her, a small smile on his lips. "I thought of you last night," he said, his voice pitched just loud enough for her to hear.

She didn't answer, but she felt her face turn red.

They came to their first Mettai village later that morning. They had encountered several towns and villages along the banks of the wash as they made their way north, but during the previous two days had seen none at all. It almost seemed that over the years a boundary had formed between the Eandi villages and those of the Mettai.

There was little in the village itself to mark it as being Mettai. The houses and lanes looked much like those in other settlements. The homes might have been a bit smaller here, a bit more ragged in appearance. But Tirnya saw nothing that told her definitively that this was a Mettai village. Still, she knew it immediately, and so, it seemed, did her father.

They'd passed by all the towns they'd seen previously; this time they stopped a short distance from the settlement. Jenoe surveyed the village and then the surrounding woodlands, as if searching for signs of a trap.

"Have your men remain here," he told his captains. "Tirnya, Enly, and I will ride in and speak with the leaders."

Tirnya and the other captains rode back to inform their lead riders of what they were doing. Then Enly and Tirnya rejoined the marshal and the three of them steered their mounts toward the village.

Black-haired children playing in the lanes and yards stopped to stare at the riders as they went past. Their eyes were wide and dark, their skin still brown from the Growing sun. Men and women appeared in doorways or stepped around from in back of houses to look at the strangers.

"They certainly look like Mettai," Jenoe said quietly. "Every Mettai I've ever seen was dark like these people."

They came to a small marketplace and halted, wondering where to seek out the village's leaders. They needn't have wondered. After only a moment or two, a woman approached them. Her hair was white and her face bore deep lines, but she stood straight and she regarded them with shining black eyes that seemed to have surrendered nothing to age.

"Who are you?" she asked in a gravelly voice. "What is this army that you've brought to my village?"

Jenoe dismounted and nodded once to Tirnya and Enly, indicating that they should do the same.

"My name is Jenoe Onjaef, good woman," the marshal said. "This is my daughter, Tirnya, and with us is Enly Tolm, lord heir of Qalsyn."

The woman glanced at the younger riders, appearing unimpressed. Then she faced Jenoe again. "All right," she said. "That's who you are. What about the rest of it? Why are you here?"

Jenoe favored her with his most disarming smile. "May I ask where we are, gentle woman? What is the name of his village?"

She frowned, and for a moment Tirnya wondered if she would answer. "This is Shaldir," she finally said. "You're near the Companion Lakes. Or did you know that already?"

Tirnya's father chuckled. "Yes, that much we knew. And your name?" Again the woman hesitated, clearly not pleased by the way he was evading her questions. "I'm Kenitha. I'm eldest of this village."

"And you're Mettai, aren't you, Eldest?"

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, her voice rising.

"Are you Mettai?"

She pressed her lips in a thin line, but then held up her left hand so that they could see the back of it. Her brown skin was scored with dozens of thin white scars and several more cuts that were darker, fresher. "Now, answer me. What do you want with us? We've done nothing that would displease the lord governor."

"No, you haven't," Jenoe said. "Please forgive us if our presence here has unnerved you or the people of your village." He glanced around. "Is there somewhere we might speak to you in private?"

Her expression darkening even more, Kenitha stared at them briefly before turning on her heel and walking away. Jenoe glanced at Tirnya, an eyebrow raised. Then he followed the woman, as did Tirnya and Enly.

She led them to a small house just south of the marketplace, but she didn't take them inside. Instead, she sat on the steps outside the door.

"Now, for the last time, what are you doing here?"

Jenoe looked around. There was no one else in sight. This was as much privacy as they were likely to get.

"Have you heard talk of the pestilence recently?" the marshal asked.

Clearly Kenitha hadn't been expecting this. "Yes, I have. The outbreaks have been west of here, in the Y'Qatt villages on the Silverwater, and on the Central Plain."

Jenoe nodded. "That's right. Apparently this is a peculiar strain of the disease. It only strikes at Qirsi. As far as we know, not a single Eandi village has seen an outbreak."

The woman frowned again. "That I hadn't heard, but now that you say it, I think you're right. All the villages that have been struck have been west of the Silverwater." She shook her head. "But what does this have to do with your army being here?"

"You know the history of the Central Plain, don't you?" Jenoe said. "That it was once held by the Eandi. The Horn, Silvralna, Deraqor-all of it was ours." He indicated Tirnya with an open hand. "And my family-mine and Tirnya's-once ruled in Deraqor."

"Onjaef," she whispered, comprehension lighting her eyes. "I knew I'd heard the name."

Jenoe smiled. "Yes."

"You're marching to war," Kenitha said. "That's why you've come this way. It's not enough that the white-hairs are dying from the pestilence; you want to slaughter them on a battlefield as well."

Tirnya felt as though she'd been slapped. "That's not-!"

Her father held up a hand, silencing her. "You're right. That's essentially what we're doing. But you have to understand that they took our ancestral lands from us. We've been exiles for more than a century. And now we have an opportunity to take back those lands."

"The Blood Wars have been over for a long time," the woman said, a gust of wind making her hair dance around her face. "And yet the tales of them that my grandfather told me-tales his grandfather told him-are still enough to keep me awake on a cold, dark night. You're stepping back into horrors you don't even understand."

Jenoe cast another quick look at Tirnya, his expression bleak. Clearly this wasn't going to work, at least not with these Mettai. But her father made the effort anyway.

"I'm sorry to hear you say that," he told the eldest. "We came here hoping that you and your people might join us in our fight. We could offer you land on the Central Plain, or perhaps even in the Horn. You wouldn't have to take up arms, but your magic…"

He trailed off. The woman was laughing and shaking her head.

"Remarkable," she said. "You actually came here hoping to lure us into this folly. The Mettai have been ignored by your kind for centuries. On those few occasions when you do take notice of us, it's to push us off our land or something of the sort. And now, suddenly, you want us to be allies in your war? You must be joking."

Jenoe straightened. "I assure you, Eldest, we're utterly serious about this."

"Well, you'll have to get your magic elsewhere," she said, standing, and starting up the stairs toward the door. "Because we want nothing to do with you or your battles." She entered the house and shut the door behind her, leaving the three of them standing there.

Jenoe clicked his tongue once and started to lead his horse away from the house, back to where the army was waiting. Tirnya followed, leading Thirus, her sorrel, and Enly fell in step beside her. After a moment, Jenoe slowed down, allowing them to catch up with him.

"So what do we do now?" the lord heir asked.

"This isn't the only Mettai village around here," Tirnya said quickly.

"No," her father agreed, "it's not. But I'm afraid that Kenitha's attitude may be more typical than you'd like to believe."

"I'm not ready to give up yet," Tirnya said, looking at both men in turn, as if challenging them to argue the point.

"Neither am I." Her father kept his tone mild, no doubt as determined to avoid a fight as she was to keep trying. "I'm just saying that we may run out of villages before long."

Tirnya felt certain that Enly was thinking much the same thing, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

They rejoined the army a short time later and turned northward once more. The following day they came to a second settlement, this one somewhat larger than the first. As before, Tirnya, Jenoe, and Enly rode into the village to speak with the leaders there.

The town, it turned out, was called Kirayde. The eldest this time was a blacksmith by the name of Pyav, who spoke to them in the middle of the marketplace and appeared wary of them from the start. Despite her certainty that their plan could work and her resolve to keep trying, Tirnya knew immediately that this man would refuse them as well.

Her father began by saying much the same thing to Pyav that he had to Kenitha. As soon as he mentioned the pestilence, however, Pyav's face turned ashen.

"You're certain that it's only Qirsi who are getting sick?" the man asked.

Jenoe nodded. "Yes."

"But all Qirsi. Not just the Y'Qatt?"

Tirnya's father narrowed his eyes slightly. "No, it's not just the Y'Qatt. We'd heard that it started in some of the Y'Qatt settlements, but it's spread westward into Fal'Borna land since then."

"May the gods save us all," Pyav muttered, looking ill himself.

"Well, as I say, it only strikes at Qirsi. I don't think you need to fear for your people. That's not why I came."

"What?" the man said, as if rousing himself from a dark dream.

"I said we didn't come here to warn you about the pestilence. I don't think it poses any threat to you."

Pyav rubbed a hand over his face. "Well, she's not here anymore," he said. "She lived here once, but she's gone now. I don't know where she's gone."

For several moments Jenoe said nothing, his expression so puzzled that it might have been comical had Tirnya not been certain that hers looked just the same.

"I'm sorry," Jenoe said. "I don't know who or what you're talking about."

Pyav stared back at him. "No," he said. "I don't suppose you do. I'm sorry. I… I was confused for a moment. Please, why is it you've come?"

As he had in Shaldir, the marshal spoke briefly of the history of the Central Plain and the Onjaef family. He still seemed puzzled by the eldest's behavior, and he rambled on a bit, but eventually came to the crux of the matter.

"So you mean to attack the Fal'Borna while they're weakened."

"Yes, we do," Jenoe told him. "And we'd like to enlist the Mettai as allies in this venture. We can offer you land, and we can promise that it will be yours for as long as we hold the plain."

Pyav shook his head slowly. "First a plague," he whispered, "and now a war."

"Your magic would be a great boon to us."

"No," Pyav said, shaking his head more vehemently this time. "Our magic has done enough damage already. We want no part of a new Blood War." He turned and started to walk away. "Take your men and go, Marshal. We can't help you."

"He's a strange man," Enly said, watching the eldest hurry away from them.

Jenoe furrowed his brow. "Possibly. Certainly there was something odd in the things he said to us. 'Our magic has done enough damage already'? I have no idea what he meant by that." He looked at Tirnya. "Regardless of his reasons, though, that's twice now we've been turned away. How many more villages do you think we ought to visit before we accept that this isn't going to work?"

She felt Enly watching her. "I don't know," she said, her voice flat. "A couple."

Her father nodded. "All right. Two more, then. After that, if we still haven't convinced any Mettai to join us, we'll turn back."

"No," she said. "That's too few."

"You're the one-"

"Yes, Father, I know. And now I'm telling you that it's too few. We've been in Mettai territory for two days. That's all. Rather than limiting ourselves to two more villages, we should give this a set amount of time. Five more days, let's say. After that we can go back."

Jenoe looked past her to Enly. "What do you think?"

Enly exhaled, chancing a quick glance at Tirnya. "I think you could take an entire turn, visit twenty more villages, and it wouldn't change a thing. The Mettai have been shunned by both the clans and the sovereignties for hundreds of years. And while they might not have wanted to be ignored, they have managed to survive and avoid the wars. None of them want anything to do with us or the white-hairs." He gave a small, dry chuckle. "I can't say that I blame them."

"Someone among them will want to join us," Tirnya said. "They're Eandi. I don't care what kind of magic they possess, nothing can change that. We're offering land, and a chance to rejoin Eandi society. There must be one leader among them who'll want that."

Enly shrugged. "Maybe. But you have to wonder…" He stopped, shaking his head.

"You have to wonder what?" Tirnya demanded.

"Nothing. You may be right. That person may be out there somewhere. But how long will it take us to find the right village?"