The Lords Of The Crimson River

Chapter 17

The flight of Duke Raskod's son left everything in confusion at Castle Issos. After hearing of this, Duke Cyron appointed Chenosh his viceroy for the Duchy of Issos. Chenosh would live in the castle, with a force of two hundred armed Lords under Blade's command. He would have no power of «high justice»-life and death-but he could judge all other cases brought before the ducal court.

Everybody knew but nobody said this wasn't just an effort to get government in Issos working again. It was also a test for Lord Chenosh, to see how fit he was to rule.

Chenosh had only a few days to play ruler before his grandfather arrived to plan the rest of the war. All he could do in that time was put Castle Issos into some sort of order. He buried the dead, dismissed untrustworthy servants and those who'd been cruel to the harem women, laid in supplies of food and wine, and counted Raskod's treasure. He left much of the work to Blade, who left a good deal of it to Miera. She'd helped run Castle Ranit since she was fourteen, and had a keen eye for a falsified account or a dishonest servant.

Lord Gennar was also a great help to Blade, and so was Sarylla, the woman who'd spoken to him from the gate tower. Gennar and Sarylla spent so much time in each other's company that Blade couldn't help joking with the Lord about it. Gennar replied earnestly, «I want to understand this woman. She must have a rare soul, almost lordly, to have done what she did. Yet a woman with a true Lord's soul would have died before entering Duke Raskod's house at all. I do not understand her, but I want to.»

Blade managed not to smile again. More simply, Gennar was young, unmarried, and lusty. Sarylla was beautiful and available. Blade suspected that she would have been quite happy to crawl into his bed if he hadn't brought Miera with him. Since he wasn't available, she would try to insure her position by sleeping with his second in command.

Blade wished them well. He hoped Gennar would learn something more about women from Sarylla. Certainly he and the other Crimson River Lords needed the knowledge!

The day Duke Cyron reached Castle Issos, it looked as if he'd brought half the Duchy of Nainan with him. The rest of the Guardsmen were with him, several hundred other Lords, as many Helpers, all the unlordly except for the men and boys needed to keep up a war camp, and several dozen Feathered Ones. No women, though. When Cyron took the field himself, he turned a cold eye on camp followers. As he told Blade:

«The fewer comforts my Lords can bring with them, the harder they'll fight to get back to what they've had to leave behind.»

Other men weren't as realistic. Duke Padro of Gualdar came with Cyron, bringing a hundred fighting Lords and his usual tentful of perfumed fops. He was a subdued and sober young Duke in spite of this, seldom speaking, and looking as if he wasn't sleeping well. Escaping from total ruin through the mercy of his enemies had taken something out of the man, or perhaps put something into him which hadn't been there before.

There were also a hundred more Lords from Duke Pirod of Skandra and a hundred and fifty from Cyron's other ally, Duke Ormess of Hauga. The Lords of Hauga came with a lengthy pack train of wine and women, along with their good horses and sharp swords. They spoke quite plainly about why they'd come. «Duke Ormess knows he has to aid Cyron in the fight against his enemies. Otherwise Cyron will be able to say, 'What did you do for me, that you deserve a share in what I have won?"'

The plots and intrigues were going to get thicker and deadlier as Duke Cyron approached final victory. Just as obviously, matters would be even worse if Nainan's three victories had taken months instead of weeks. The Lords of the Crimson River would never know how much they owed to an «outland» Lord, a Duke's one-handed grandson, a proud Feathered One, and seven gallant concubines.

The allies would be marching against Duke Klaman of Faissa with the strongest army seen along the Crimson River in generations. They would have more than a thousand Lords and an equal number of Helpers, counting only the fighting men. Duke Klaman would be lucky to put seven hundred fighters into the field. In a pitched battle, the allies would have no trouble.

Things would be different if they had to lay siege to Castle Muras, Duke Klaman's seat. It was the strongest fortress along the Crimson River, almost impossible to take by storm. It would also be hard to lay siege to it. By now Duke Klaman must know what was going to happen to him. He'd be laying in enough supplies to hold Castle Muras until either winter, or possibly the army of one of the Kingdoms, came to his rescue.

«Is there a quick way to victory?» was the question on everyone's lips when Cyron's council of war met in the great hall of Castle Issos. Blade had no chance to speak for quite a while. Cyron first took the advice of Padro of Gualdar and the chief Lords sent by other Dukes. Then he took the advice of his own Captains, in order of their length of service to him. He was a long time getting around to Richard Blade, who sat through all the nonsense as patiently as he could.

When his turn came, Blade had to start off by asking a question. «What are the buildings like in Castle Muras? What are they made of?»

The best answers came from Lord Ebass, who'd visited Muras several times, and from Chenosh, who'd read everything written on the subject and committed most of it to memory. It sounded to Blade as if the buildings of Castle Muras were very much like those of the other castles he'd seen along the Crimson River.

«That means they'll burn easily,» he said. «If they burn, all the supplies and most of the shelter for Klaman's fighting men will go up with them. With no shelter and short rations, how long will the garrison be willing to hold out?»

Everyone seemed to agree that the garrison would yield quickly. That was the answer Blade expected. The Lords of the Crimson River were used to fighting cheap wars, with small stakes. They wouldn't manage very well if suddenly, with no warning, someone raised the stakes by burning their roofs over their heads.

It was Marshal Alsin who asked the next question. «How are you going to set the buildings of Castle Muras on fire?»

«We shoot flaming arrows over the walls,» replied Blade simply.

There was a collective gasp, and everyone stared at Blade as if he'd just said something obscene. Then there was an uproar like a barnyard full of animals running wild. Blade mentally kicked himself. He'd overlooked the taboo on using archery against men of lordly rank. He hadn't actually forgotten it, he'd just assumed that no one would think that the use of flaming arrows against buildings would break the taboo. Apparently he'd overestimated the intelligence of the other Lords.

After the council recovered from the shock, they did Blade the courtesy of explaining in detail why his proposal could not be accepted. Again it was Alsin who spoke, with the others all nodding as if he was expressing profound wisdom instead of probable doom for Duke Cyron's cause. «Close to the wall, the archers would be within spearcasting distance. They would die before the fires were well started. If they stand back where they will be safe, they cannot aim well. They might hit a Lord by chance. Then the Fathers and the other Lords would turn against us and all our hopes.»

Blade gritted his teeth. He was tempted to ask if Alsin preferred losing the war in an honorable, lordly way, to winning in a new way. He fought the temptation, because he already knew the answer. It would be «Yes,» and if someone as comparatively sensible as Alsin would say that, there was no hope of getting a different answer from anyone else!

Once again, Chenosh came to Blade's rescue, although this time he needed a little help. «Your Grace,» he said, looking at Duke Padro. «I have heard tales that there are some powerful crossbows in your castle. They shoot farther, straighter, harder than any other bows in the lands of the Crimson River. Are they still fit for use?»

Duke Padro's mouth opened like a dying fish, and for a moment he seemed uncertain whether to answer or not. Then slowly he nodded. «Yes. In my father's youth, we had a plague of wild boars. He had two dozen big crossbows made, to kill a boar at four hundred paces. They proved their worth.»

«And you still have them?» Chenosh prodded.

Padro hesitated again, but not so long this time. «Yes. If you think they could be used…» He didn't know what to say next, or if the other Lords would even approve what he'd said so far.

Blade took up the fight. «I think Duke Padro's bows will do the work,» he said. «If they shoot four hundred paces, the archers can stand out of spear range from the walls and still hit anything in the castle. Also, they will be shooting straight. If we choose good archers and bid them aim true, no Lord will be hurt. Not unless he tries to pluck a bolt out of the air, at least!» That got an encouraging laugh.

«What do you say, my Lords?» Blade now asked. «It is the law, not to deliberately shoot an arrow at a Lord or near him. But does the law say we must also protect our enemies from their own stupidity, as if they were little children too young to be let outdoors without a nurse?»

«It has never said that, in all the years I have been obeying it,» said Cyron.

«That is my thought, too,» said Alsin, and Duke Padro nodded. With these three supporting Blade's interpretation of the law, no one else seemed ready to argue. The discussion quickly turned to the best way of carrying out the new plan for burning Duke Klaman out of his castle.

That still took hours, because every Lord wanted it on record that he'd made some suggestion. Few seemed to care whether the suggestions made any sense or not. Blade began to feel that staff conferences were the same in every Dimension-a golden opportunity for long-winded drones and a complete waste of time for everyone else.

The council of war finally ended when both Duke Cyron's temper and the beer in the cellar of Castle Issos ran out. Fortunately they'd made most of the necessary decisions by then, and agreed to turn the rest over to Alsin and the Captain of Duke Pirod's elite companions.

Blade controlled a sigh of relief as he left the hall, then controlled a groan as Lord Chenosh scurried toward him. The boy was assigned to ride with the baggage trains and serve with the archers. There was no way he couldn't be resenting it, and no way Duke Cyron, Alsin, and Blade were going to change their minds.

Blade still managed to listen to Chenosh patiently for about five minutes, as the young man complained that he would be so far in the rear he wouldn't get to see any action. Then Blade broke in sharply, «All of what you say is true only for a pitched battle in the open field. If that happens, you will indeed be somewhere else.

«But if we strike fast enough, we will be under the walls of Castle Muras before they even know we are coming. Then the archers will be doing the real work. Attacks from the castle will come straight at them. If you stay with the archers, you'll see enough fighting to keep any man from questioning your courage.» And much more than your grandfather will like, was Blade's unspoken conclusion.

«You are sure of this?» said Chenosh. For a moment he seemed no more than an uncertain boy, as nervous about his honor as the most thick-skulled Lord.

«I have seen it happen in several sieges on my travels,» said Blade. «I cannot promise more than that.»

«Thank you, Lord Blade,» said Chenosh with a sigh. «At least I can trust you never to tell me more than you know to be the truth. I wish I could be sure of that from anyone else.» He walked away slowly, his shoulders sagging.

Blade went back to his room muttering to himself. By the standards of the Duchies, Chenosh and Miera were both adults, but that didn't mean they'd learned more than a fraction of what they needed to know. They were still absurdly young for the responsibilities they already had to bear, never mind what might be thrust on them soon!

Blade was glad to find that Lord Gennar and Lord Ebass wanted a drinking companion. In his present mood, almost any excuse to get drunk would do, even if there were nothing left in the castle but sour wine!