'Of all the people for my scouts to bring back, absolutely the last in my thoughts was you.'
'I'm just glad to be here. There were some with distinctly twitchy fingers on those strings.'
'They were just irritable you got the quarry first,' said Roberto. 'What madness has brought you into the wilds? Actually, stow that, because I know more than you think. I just didn't believe it.'
'So, in reality, you've been expecting me,' said Jhered.
He was in need of a shave but had lost none of his presence. The quiet that had swept the army when he passed by on his way to Roberto's tent was proof enough.
'Technically.'
'I'm impressed messengers have reached you. Which way did they come?'
'I've had three,' said Roberto. 'Two from the south via Gestern and one from the west through Atreska. They've been slow so the news is old but I expect the picture is accurate enough.'
‘I
have far more recent information about Gestern.'
'Good,' said Roberto. He pointed the way to the tilted desk on which his maps were pinned. 'We'll deal with your cargo in a moment. But let me tell you where we are right now.'
He indicated a map that covered Atreska, Gosland, eastern Tsard, Gestern and the Tirronean Sea to its western coasts.
'The war has not yet reached the Neratharnese border but it is
imminent. We do not have forces capable of holding the enemy for long. Gestern, I understand, will be embattled at much the same time. At least Gosland appears relatively secure. The Tsardon have organised very well. I only hope that what we have seen represents their entire strength.'
'What news of resistance in Atreska?' asked Jhered.
'Fractured and insignificant. The scale of Yuran's betrayal is immense and it is clear most of his people love him enough to believe in him still. Any loyal legions we have are either destroyed or fleeing north or west where they may be of more use. Some awoke with the blades of those they thought friends at their throats.' Roberto shook his head. 'Atreska is a mess. One day its people will see the folly they have sanctioned. The Tsardon spill lies about a liberation. But they will not leave unless the Conquord forces them out. Only the most naive would believe otherwise.'
'And what is left should the Tsardon break through our defences in Neratharn?'
'Preciou
s little. Coastal defence. The 1
st legion. Not enough.' Roberto wiped a hand across his face and felt the despair growing again. 'Paul, I think I have made a mistake that might cost us the Conquord.'
'What? No. No. To march south was the best decision of your life. Believe me.'
'How can that be? Jorganesh will be in Gestern by now. The Tsardon cannot get through, they do not have the numbers. I should have fought through Atreska and relieved Neratharn. Dammit but I've lost seven hundred of my Atreskan alae because of it. I all but called them cowards and traitors. But it's me who is the coward. Running from battle.'
'Never speak like that,' snapped Jhered, grabbing Roberto's chin in one huge hand. 'Never. It does you disservice. And it is not true. You know why you decided to march south. And I thank the Omniscient that you did.'
He paused and slackened his grip, dropped his hand with an apology. He was biting his lip.
'What's wrong, Paul?'
'Jorganesh isn't in Gestern,' he said quietly. 'And he never will make it.'
'What are you saying?' asked Roberto.
'He was ambushed in Lubjek's Defile. His army was slaughtered. There is no one stopping the Tsardon southern front reaching Gestern.'
Roberto couldn't get his thoughts into order. He stared down at the map. In his mind's eye, he could see the spread of the Tsardon across his beloved Conquord like a rising tide. Unstoppable. Inevitable. And one by one, all those he knew and trusted were being drowned. Gesteris, and now Jorganesh.
'Are you sure?'
‘I
saw it for myself.' Jhered cleared his throat. 'There's something else. You've been marching unmolested, haven't you?'
Roberto nodded. 'It's been a blessing. Confusing but a blessing. We are being tracked though. They know we're coming. But we aren't gaining ground on them fast enough.'
'That's because they aren't ahead of you. Your scouts aren't going to find their path. And they aren't attacking you because you're going in the wrong direction. They plan to attack and take the Gesternan coast, travel as far south down it as they can to take ship to Estorr. I'm certain of it.'
Roberto focused on the map once more. 'Dusas will beat them,' he said. 'The Atreskan rebel navy is not large enough to take an invasion force and the Ocetanas will wipe them out. They cannot build enough ships in Gestern, even assuming they have the skill and the resources before dusas renders a crossing too risky.'
'They won't need to,' said Jhered. 'Their armada has already sailed from the Bay of Harryn. Hundreds of sails, the Karku say. Enough, certainly.'
'Then I am already too late.' Roberto's despair threatened to clog his throat.
'No,' said Jhered. 'Not if you change your direction now and chase them by the fastest route. The Tsardon are mustering but they have not yet attacked.'
'What difference will it really make? If Jorganesh is gone, then my eleven thousand face at least three times that number. Even with the Gesternan defence, these are poor odds.'
'Trust me. I have just delivered you the most powerful weapon of this war. One that can stop whole armies at a stroke without you having to prime one scorpion.'
'The Ascendants?' said Roberto, shaking his head.
‘I
have conflicting stories concerning them. None in which I place the remotest faith. And accusations concerning your loyalty to my mother and the Omniscient. I also have a message from my mother asking me to scout for you. It's playing out like a bad piece of drama. Perhaps you'd better give me your side. I could do with having my mood lightened by more exaggeration.'
Mirron sat with Menas, away from the others, in the tent that had been cleared for them. They had come in under the scrutiny of the whole army so it seemed. Mirron had found it quite overwhelming while the others had seemed excited at it all. So much noise. So many people in endless rows of tents. Her ears were full of the sounds of hammer on metal or sword on sword where soldiers sparred. There was a barrage of conversation, too. And the pandemonium that came with hundreds of horses corralled together.
On their heads-bowed walk in she had endured wolf whistles and countless invitations. Some of them she hadn't even understood. Menas had thrown a protective arm around her and made her Gatherer cloak public knowledge. That had silenced some of them. Kovan had been at her side too but had since run off to see if he could find any of his friends in the Estorean hastati.
That left Ossacer and Arducius practising the capture of energies from the still air, along with Gorian. Ossacer thought that if they could make it efficient, it could be a source of power, greater than fire, earth, sea or tree. He'd been saying it for years. Only Arducius really believed him and that was only because he was a Wind Harker and wanted to call hurricanes from nothing. She hadn't felt like helping out. She was tired and her stomach ached. Only Menas seemed sensitive to her mood.
'Feeling a little alone?' asked the Gatherer.
'I don't know why it should be. There are so many people about.'
Menas smoothed hair from her brow. 'Oh, Mirron, you really have been kept from the real world, haven't you?'
'I'm only fourteen, Erith,' said Mirron sharply. 'Anyway, I haven't been kept from it. Westfallen is the real world. Was.'
'But it's so different from this, isn't it? There are more than ten thousand people in this camp. You've never been in such a large gathering before, have you? Never been to Port Roulent, let alone Cirandon or Estorr, I doubt.'
Mirron went to the door of the tent. They weren't under arrest but there were guards either side. She looked out over the canvas city just beginning to fade at its extremities as the sun dipped away west. Earlier and earlier now that dusas was just around the corner. The noise had not abated. Clashing, shouting, barking, running, singing. Kovan said it wouldn't die away until the dead of night and even then, some would choose not to sleep.
'So why do I feel alone?' she asked. 'And why do I feel
...
I don't know.'
'Threatened?'
'Yes.' She walked back to Menas and sat down, a little shudder across her shoulders. 'This is our army, isn't it? I should feel safe.'
'It's not to do with enemies and friends. This just isn't a place for young people like you and your brothers. You most particularly. These are battle-hardened men and women that used to be farmers and potters like those in your home town. Most of them remember their past lives only as dreams. They still desire to return to their old lives but in the middle of a desperate situation it is dangerous to think of it. So they make this army all of their existence. Do you understand?'
'Sort of.'
'And you don't belong in it. You can feel the aggression but you can't hope to understand it. They desperately need routine and discipline and our arrival with the Exchequer is like throwing a stone into a mill pond. They will be suspicious until they understand your presence here. Even if the Exchequer does convince General Del Aglios of your worth, many of his army will never accept you. Remember what you told me about the reaction on the ship? It will be the same here, only there are ten thousand, not two hundred.'
Mirron slumped. She looked at the others, deep in concentration and could feel only hopelessness for them all.
'People shouldn't hate us,' she said. 'Why can't they see we are here to help them win and get back to their stupid lives? That's what Jhered wants us to do. Why can't he make them see?'
'I'm sorry, Mirron. But that's the real world, too. You've grown up with what you have. But nearly everyone else has no idea of your abilities. An army believes in the strength of its arms and artillery. Nothing else.'
'So why am I worse off than the others?'
Menas sighed. 'Oh, Mirron, have you never looked at yourself?' 'What do you mean?'
'Why do you think Kovan and Gorian fight over your attention?'
'Well, I'm not that stupid.' Mirron was aware that she was blushing. 'I know boys will chase me.'
Menas smiled. 'Well that's a good start. But you need to realise that you are a beautiful young woman and not a little girl. Not out here in the midst of an army of many men and few women. You've taken the blood of fertility, haven't you? And it's coming on again, isn't it? In a day or so. Captain Patonius spoke to you about this, didn't she?
'Men will desire you. And the women in the army will not get in their way. Why do you think there are so many women camp-followers?'
'Oh.' Mirron shrank back against Menas, finding herself very afraid. 'But you won't let them touch me, will you?'
Menas's face hardened. 'I am here to protect you, Mirron. No one will hurt you while I am with you. I promise.'
Mirron smiled. She felt admiration mixed with her relief. 'I'm glad you're here.'
'Me, too.'
Menas put an arm round her and pulled her close. 'Maybe I can join the Gatherers,' said Mirron. 'Be the first Ascendant to take the cloak and travel with you forever.' 'Maybe,' said Menas. 'Maybe.'
Roberto put down his watered wine and stood up. He walked to the door of his tent and checked again that his guard was standing away as he had ordered; forming a perimeter out of earshot. When he turned, he could see the belief in Jhered's face but he just couldn't share it.
'The heights of Kark must have starved your brain,' he said. 'Can't you see that this isn't just a desperate last throw, it is complete madness. How can you expect me to believe it?'
'I'm asking you to trust me,' said Jhered.
'On what grounds?' Roberto fought to keep his voice down. He pointed out of his tent.
‘I
am just about keeping body and will together out there. Since my first and only victory this year, I have had plague, desertion, forced march, rebellion and every scrap of news that has come my way has been bad. And now you expect me to walk out there and tell my army that four children are going to win the war for us? If I do that, I will lose them all. They would laugh in my face and I would not blame them. I would have mutiny and this stitched-together force would disintegrate.' it is nevertheless true,' said Jhered.
'But you have no proof,' he shouted before he could calm himself. 'Dammit, Paul, it sounds like pure invention. Tales to tell babies. And it is heresy against the Omniscient. I will not countenance it.'