Wolfblade (25 page)

“. . . and we need to move at least another twenty-five centuries of Raiders to Highcastle,” Laran was saying.

Wrayan glanced back at the table where Laran Krakenshield, the Warlord’s half-brother Mahkas Damaran, Charel and Nash Hawksword, Chaine Tollin and Kagan Palenovar were poring over the map of Hythria spread out on Glenadal’s map table.

“I’ll take our troops to Highcastle,” Nash volunteered.

“You’ll take two-and-half thousand Elasapine troops all the way through Sunrise?” his father asked. “You don’t think that’s going to raise the odd eyebrow or two?”

“Winter manoeuvres,” Nash shrugged. “We took twice that many into Pentamor a couple of years back to play war games with Foxtalon’s army. It’s not that unusual.”

“I don’t know . . .” Charel said doubtfully.

“It’ll give Nash an excuse to be in the mountains,” Mahkas added. “And a chance for one of us to speak to Princess Marla. He can tell Lord Branador and Lady Lydia they’re on a training exercise. Frederak won’t mind. He might even welcome it. Isn’t he always complaining that nobody pays enough attention to the defence of the border passes?”

“It’s one thing to bolster the border passes, but with twenty-five centuries of Raiders from a neighbouring province?” Charel asked with a raised brow. “Branador’s not a fool, Mahkas. He’ll know something’s up.”

“Which really isn’t a problem provided he doesn’t share his suspicions with anyone in Fardohnya,” Nash chuckled.

“No,” Laran announced. “If we’re going to do this, then I really should go to Highcastle myself. I can’t expect Nash to kidnap my bride for me.”

“I don’t mind,” Nash told him cheerfully.

“Nevertheless, it’s something I really need to take care of myself.”

“Why don’t you both go?” Kagan suggested. “I agree that you need to speak to Marla yourself, Laran, but Nash is right about the troops, too. And Frederak won’t think it unusual if you pay him a visit. You’re his liege lord now, after all. Take Nash and the reinforcements to Highcastle with you, speak to Marla and then leave Nash guarding the pass once she’s agreed.”

“Suppose Princess Marla refuses to have anything to do with me?” Laran asked. Wrayan detected a glimmer of hope in the Warlord’s voice. Laran was going along with this plan, but it was obvious he was a reluctant conscript. If Marla refused him, he’d be off the hook.

“Marla will do anything to avoid marrying Hablet,” Kagan assured the gathering. “I even promised her I’d find a way to avoid it. You just need to tell her I sent you and this is the escape I promised.”

Laran looked sceptical. “I have a feeling it’s not going to be nearly as straightforward as you claim, Uncle.”

Kagan shrugged, unconcerned. “Have a little faith, Laran.”

“Will twenty-five hundred men be enough to hold the pass at Highcastle?” Charel Hawksword asked.

Chaine Tollin nodded. “Easily. The pass is only a few paces wide at its narrowest point. A hundred men could hold it for years, if need be.”

Nash nodded his agreement. “If there’s enough snow in the pass we might even be able to trigger an avalanche and block it completely until the middle of spring.”

“I’ll head straight for Grosburn after I leave here, then,” Charel Hawksword offered. “If we can convince Bryl Foxtalon to see the merit of our plan and he brings the forces of Pentamor Province to back us, there’ll be very little standing in our way.”

“Which just leaves Winternest,” Laran said, stabbing his finger at a point on the map that was, presumably, the location in question. Wrayan couldn’t really see from his place by the mantel.

“How many men do you have there at present?” Charel asked.

“Only an extra three hundred over the normal garrison of a thousand,” Mahkas answered for Laran. “I sent Almodavar with them when Riika and Darilyn left Cabradell.”

“I’ll need him back, though, if we’re to move so many Krakandar troops through Sunrise,” Laran said. “Mahkas, I want you to take the rest of the Krakandar troops I brought with me to join them.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to use my men?” Chaine asked with a puzzled frown. “My Raiders are used to fighting in the mountains. No offence intended, my lord, but your men are plainsmen. They don’t know the mountains like we do.”

“No offence taken, Chaine,” the Warlord assured him. “But I have other plans for your forces.”

“Perhaps you should think about moving your sisters away from Winternest,” Charel suggested. “If we’re facing an attack from Fardohnya, it’s not going to be the safest place in Hythria.”

“I thought about it,” Laran admitted. “But Riika needs to be protected from abduction on this side of the border, more than anything else. Her danger isn’t from Fardohnya, it’s from someone in Hythria—”

“Doing to your sister what you’re planning to do to Marla Wolfblade?” Chaine finished for him.

Laran studied Chaine silently for a moment and then nodded. “That’s exactly what I mean, Captain. I don’t have the troops to spare to send her somewhere else and provide adequate protection. Anyway, if Riika’s not safe in a fortress like Winternest with thirteen hundred Sunrise Raiders in addition to a couple of thousand Krakandar Raiders surrounding her, there’s few other places in Hythria that will be of any use.” Laran tuned back to the map, the discussion about Riika apparently over.

There’s going to be trouble with Chaine Tollin before this is done
, Wrayan decided.
Laran needs to tread very carefully if he wants to keep him on side
.

“If Hablet tries to come at us,” Laran continued, “I suspect he’ll try the southern pass first, because it’s closer to the coast and he can sail reinforcements in through the anchorage at Tambay’s Seat. When he realises that way is closed to him, he’ll turn his attention to the Widowmaker. If you manage to effectively block the pass, Nash, leave a token force behind and head for Winternest as fast as you can to support Mahkas. If Hablet makes a concerted effort to break through, they’ll need all the help they can get.”

He moved his finger along the map to a point further south. “Chaine, I want you to bring the Sunrise troops with us as an escort. Once we reach Warrinhaven we might need them to hold the border against any incursion from the other Warlords from the east or the south. They’ll be our front line of defence if anybody tries to stop the wedding from happening.”

“Is that likely?”

“It depends on how soon word gets out about what we’re up to. Provided I can get Marla away from Highcastle without tipping our hand, I will meet you, Kagan, at Warrinhaven, with the High Prince, four weeks from now. Murvyn was one of Glenadal’s oldest friends. We shouldn’t have a problem with him.”

“And if we do?” Chaine asked. The captain looked a little put out at the
notion that he wouldn’t be involved in any action against the Fardohnyans on the border.

“I’m sending Jeryma on ahead of us while we follow Nash to pick up Marla. My mother should be able to handle Murvyn. In fact, her presence should go a long way to making our forces look less threatening. But if there is any trouble, I trust you to take care of it, Captain. Preferably without killing anyone.”

Chaine smiled grimly. “You don’t know old Murvyn very well, do you, my lord?”

“I’m certain once my mother informs him the High Prince is going to be a guest in his house, he’ll start to see reason.” Laran turned to Kagan. “Are you sure you can get Lernen to Warrinhaven in time? It’s a long way from Greenharbour.”

“He’ll be there. Even if I have to drag him. Which I suspect I will. The real problem will be thinking up a plausible excuse for him to leave Greenharbour that doesn’t alert Alija or anyone else in her faction to what’s happening.”

“Surely Alija and Barnardo will have returned to Dregian by now?”

“Perhaps, but she has a spy network the Assassins’ Guild would be proud of. I would count on her learning about this sooner rather than later.”

As they talked, Wrayan wondered at this strange alliance of men, banding together to protect the throne of a man they universally despised. He thought he understood Laran’s motives. The young Warlord was a stickler for the law and would do anything to ensure the throne stayed in the hands of the family to whom it traditionally belonged, even if he privately felt the current High Prince did not deserve it.

Charel Hawksword’s motives were much less grandiose. Although a staunch Royalist, he was being pragmatic rather than loyal—protecting his province by allying with the strongest power (and the one that flanked him on two sides) whom he judged to be Laran Krakenshield. His son was in it for the adventure, Wrayan suspected. Nash certainly didn’t share his father’s determination to see the Wolfblade line remain in power. The idea of spiriting away a princess, however, so he could affect the succession of the throne for generations probably appealed to him enormously.

Chaine Tollin, Glenadal’s unacknowledged bastard, also had his own agenda. Supporting Laran offered the only hope he had of legally securing the birthright he felt he was owed. Interesting though, that Laran had sent Krakandar troops to protect the Widowmaker Pass between Sunrise Province and Fardohnya, when it would seem far more logical to send the man whose local knowledge might presumably give him an advantage.
Was it an oversight on Laran’s part?
Wrayan thought that unlikely. Laran Krakenshield didn’t miss much, which meant there must be some other reason Wrayan wasn’t aware of, forcing Laran to use his own men on unfamiliar mountain territory
and the Sunrise army down on the plains around Warrinhaven where, clearly, the Krakandar troops would have been more effective.

And Kagan?
Wrayan wondered.
What are you really doing here, you old schemer? Supporting your sister? Your nephew? Do you have some grander scheme in mind you’re not sharing with me?
Or was it simply that Kagan would do anything to thwart Alija Eaglespike’s ambition?

Wrayan fingered the jade water dragon in his pocket, wondering what
his
role in all this was going to be. Probably helping Kagan get Lernen safely out of Greenharbour to attend his sister’s wedding in Warrinhaven—a wedding he currently knew nothing about. Kagan was right about needing to find a satisfactory reason for Lernen’s absence. The High Prince rarely ventured out of his bedroom, if you believed the rumours about him. An unexplained and sudden desire to visit Warrinhaven would set alarm bells ringing all over Greenharbour.

It wasn’t just Alija who ran a spy network in the capital.

I should take this opportunity to steal something from Laran Krakenshield and Charel Hawksword before we leave
, Wrayan decided.
With all this talk of kidnapping and war, I may not get another chance to get close to either Warlord for a while
.

Dacendaran’s price still had to be paid. How Wrayan was going to get access to the other four Hythrun Warlords was something he hadn’t yet figured out, but he wasn’t particularly worried. He still had eight months to complete his quest. With a conflict looming, there was bound to be a parley between the Warlords at some stage involving the High Arrion; one which his apprentice would be required to attend. Perhaps even a Convocation if this was resolved quickly enough.

“Then that just about covers it,” Charel was saying as Wrayan looked back at the table. The old Warlord straightened, rubbing his back which was stiff from bending over the map for too long.

“Any questions?” Laran asked, looking around at his companions. They all silently shook their heads. The time for questions was done and everyone knew it.

“Then let’s do this thing,” the Warlord said.

The conspirators nodded in agreement. Wrayan resisted the temptation to touch their minds. He didn’t really need to. Their feelings were written clearly on their faces and the most common emotion was fear.

Because the one thing nobody had stated aloud was the fact that if they failed in this plan, the chances were very good that they would all be hanged for treason.

S
omewhat to her surprise, Riika quite enjoyed her first few weeks at Winternest. The change of scenery, the pristine snow-laden forests, the majestic peaks, the thin crisp air, even the busy comings and goings of the merchants passing through the border post, all conspired to transport the grieving young woman to a place so far from everything familiar, she found her pain receding of its own accord. It was almost as if she had left the worst of her grief back in Cabradell.

Darilyn’s sons went a long way to aiding her recovery. In the face of their unbridled enthusiasm, it was impossible to remain depressed. Travin and Xanda were such a delight, so full of life, Riika found her grief impossible to cling to. By the end of the third week she was tossing snowballs at her nephews, laughing as hard as the boys as they fought to bring her down. They built a snowman in the castle courtyard and decorated him with twigs and a helmet Travin borrowed from one of the Raiders who constantly watched over them, and then dubbed him Lord Lucky because Xanda thought it was lucky he hadn’t melted before they finished him.

Predictably, Darilyn’s reaction to Riika’s escapades with her sons swung between gratitude that her sister was taking the boys off her hands and resentment when she realised the boys preferred Riika’s company to her own. Depending on her mood, Darilyn was either fondly tolerant of their games or scathingly intolerant.