The Guardian (48 page)

“And give the Vachyn another kingdom?” Shara added.

“You are Chaldor’s queen,” I said. “Not all those folk down there are Highlanders. You’ve farmers in your army now, and shepherds, and vintners, and traders, all from Chaldor; those folk from Cu-na’Lhair who joined your cause. All those joined us to defeat Talan, and they follow us
because they’d see you on the throne, and peace come again.”

“I’ve no choice then,” she said.

“I think not.” I shook my head. “I think that kings and queens often have no choice, but only the duty to defend their land and seek the greater good.”

“Then let it be so,” she said, smiling as she saw a rider galloping toward us.

Roark slowed his pony a little as he approached, but still managed to dismount on the run. A flourish designed to impress Ellyn, I thought, but must admit he was a good horseman.

I was surprised when he addressed me.

“There’s a force coming up the Coast Road,” he announced. “I do not think it’s reinforcements from Danant.”

“Then who are they?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. My scouts reported them only just now. I thought it best to advise you. They come in numbers.”

Roark’s Quan held the western section, which commanded the Great Road out of Antium—which was the port from which Danant would, logically, deliver reinforcements. I wondered what force came from there, if it was not out of Danant.

“What do they look like?” I asked.

It was a moment before he answered, for—having delivered his message—he gazed into Ellyn’s eyes like some love-struck puppy. It occurred to me to wonder if I looked at Shara so sickly. I also wondered if I must offend him by bringing him forcibly to the point—that some unknown army marched toward us, and we could not know whether it was friendly or hostile. I could not imagine where a friendly army might come from, and I felt like shaking him, or slapping his face that he wake to the potential danger and take his eyes off Ellyn.

“Odd, so my scouts say,” came his answer as he tore his gaze from her face. “Like vagabonds. Surely not clansmen,
nor Chaldor folk. My scouts say they’ve a woman leading them. She rides in a carriage drawn by men, as if they were horses teamed to draw her.” He shook his head as if this were the strangest thing in the world.

“I’d see them,” I said. “How far away are they? And how many?”

“Six leagues,” came his answer. “And perhaps a quarter our numbers.”

I calculated distances. Dusk approached. An army might halt for the night, or march on to attack at dawn; I needed to know what force came up the Coast Road. Was it hostile, I’d need warriors to hold it and block the road.

“No chariots?” I asked. Was it a force out of Danant, it would surely come with vehicles and mounted archers.

“All afoot,” Roark answered.

I turned to Shara and Ellyn (whose eyes were still fixed on Roark) and said, “Do you hold here while I go look?” And to Roark: “Stay here. Send word to Mattich and Jaime that a force approaches. Have them send one quarter of our men to hold the Coast Road until I return.”

Then I ran for my horse.

Roark was not so besotted with Ellyn that he forgot his duty. I mounted my bay with Quan around me, and we galloped westward as the sun went down and bats came out to fly the summer sky. I wondered what new counters were thrown into this deadly game.

I halted my mare as fires sparkled ahead, spread across the Great Road and the countryside beyond. From the quantity of twinkling flames I estimated there were about a thousand men approaching, and circled my escort a little way southwestward to where a low ridge paralleled the Road. Were whoever led this force not a fool, there had to be sentries up there. But I had six clansmen with me, and I believed we could approach unheard and unseen—kid extract answers.

We left our mounts in care of young Malcum (who would have objected were he not in such awe of me) and
worked our way up the ridge. Sure enough, as I came to the rim I saw men waiting amongst the trees there. The moon was up now, the Hunter’s Moon, and its light showed them clear. I could not recognize them by their dress, which was most odd—baggy breeches and brightly colored shirts, little armor, and that mostly mail like the scales of fishes, or crude plate, or leathern vests. They carried wide swords and long daggers, two held bows, some long spears with recurved heads. None wore helmets, and I saw that their hair was worn long and gathered in pigtails or braids, and that hoops of gold and silver pierced their ears. I motioned for my men to follow me and worked my way along the ridge until I found two alone. I whispered my intent and we crept toward them.

I took the first from behind with Calum as Otran and Vys seized the other. I clapped a hand over a startled mouth that opened to shout a cut-off warning as I grasped his sword arm. Calum punched him once in the midriff and smiled wickedly as he set a dagger to the man’s throat. Otran and Vys were no less efficient, and in moments the sentinels were hauled from the ridgetop into the shadows below.

Calum held his dagger’s point to the man’s throat as I released my grip.

“Do you cry out,” I said, “my friend will stick you. Who are you?”

Dark eyes glowered at me, but he kept his voice low as he answered, “I am Leonardi of Hel’s Town. Who are you?”

“Gailard of the Devyn, commander of Chaldor’s army and Guardian of Ellyn.”

I was surprised by the smile that split his swarthy face as he began to chuckle. Calum pressed his blade closer, as if he thought the man gone mad.

“Poor welcome you offer us, Gailard. We come to aid you and you threaten my life?”

“What?” I demanded, confused. “What are you talking about?”

Leonardi stared at Calum. “Tell this oaf to remove his
blade. I find it hard to speak with a dagger pricking my throat.”

I nodded to Calum. He took the dagger away—but held it ready.

Leonardi said, “The Mother can explain it better than I. Her and Kerid.”

“Kerid?”
That name rang loud bells whose sound I could not quite believe. “The same Kerid as sailed in Chaldor’s fleet?”

“The Mother’s consort,” he answered. “Now, do you leave me go, I’ll take you to them.”

Calum said, “Don’t trust him. This could be a trap, and they on Talan’s side.”

Leonardi said, “I might have to fight you, fellow. I give my word and you doubt it? I tell you, the Mother took us off the river to aid you. I give you my word you’ll be safe with us.”

I studied him awhile. I had read somewhat of the Hel’s Town pirates, and heard more of them from Andur; he surely fit the descriptions I’d read. I nodded to Calum. “Let him up, eh?”

Leonardi rose, grinning at Calum as if his pride was assuaged. “Come,” he said. Then motioned to where Otran and Vys held the other. “But let Cyrus go, too, eh?”

I gave the order and the one called Cyrus rose cursing. Leonardi beckoned him and told him to alert the (ineffective, I thought) sentries of our arrival. Leonardi himself would bring me to Kerid and the Mother.

We went down the slope.

I saw that most of this strange army slept on the ground. There were few tents and no horses, but a phalanx of men armored in fish mail, with spears and swords—faces hidden beneath piscine helms came to block our path. Beyond them I saw a great pavilion that shone like water under the moon’s light, with the palanquin Roark had described resting on the ground before.

Spears were leveled in our direction and Leonardi
cried, “Friends! I am Leonardi and I bring Gailard of Chaldor to meet with the Mother.”

His voice was loud enough to carry the distance, and I sensed he boasted—as if I were a prize. I eased my sword, ready to draw.
Were
this a trap I’d sell myself dear.

Then a man emerged from the magnificent pavilion and a voice rang out.

“Gailard! Is that truly you? In the names of all the gods, I’d scarce dared hope …” He paused to call back toward the pavilion, then came running toward me.

I recognized him: Kerid.

He pushed past the armored guard and embraced me.

“There were so many rumors … You fled Chorym, you died … By the gods, Gailard, it’s good to see you again. You’ve an army now? The Mother heard it was so … Come, you must meet her.”

He took my arm and led me to the pavilion. My clansmen followed, like restless hounds on my heels. Kerid shouted that they be fed and wined, and brought me to the woman who stood between two braziers that lit her golden hair with sparks of light. She was very beautiful, and seemed much older than Ellyn, but she held a regal stance and surveyed me with calmly imperious eyes. She wore a silvery gown that seemed to be constructed of mail, and clung to the contours of her body as do a fish’s scales. Rings glittered on her fingers, jewels from her ears. Her small waist was encircled by a narrow belt that held a long, thin knife.

“This,” Kerid said, “is Mother Hel. She commands this army we’ve brought to aid you.”

It seemed that the girl expected some acknowledgment, and I’d not disappoint any allies I might find, so I offered a Highlander’s obeisance to an equal. I bowed my head and lowered a knee.

“Do you come to aid Ellyn of Chaldor in her rightful war, I welcome you and thank you.”

“We do,” Kerid said.

“Mother Hel?” I stared at this beautiful, imperious woman. She reminded me of both Shara and Ellyn. “Then this army you bring must be the Hel’s Town pirates.”

“Not all of them.” She turned away, beckoning me into the pavilion. “Perhaps one third. The rest hold the Durrakym against Danant, that Talan not bring more soldiers to his cause, or find any trade.” She glanced fondly at Kerid. “I was … persuaded … to support you, and so Hel’s Town has taken a side.”

She gestured that I sit. There was a table of some dark wood inlaid with silver motifs, matching chairs, silver plates and decanters, goblets of crystal. The one she took was set with jewels. I wondered how so much opulence was transported without horses.

“I break all precedent,” she said. “Hel’s Town does not take sides in the land wars, but …” She glanced again at Kerid, who stared at her much as Roark did at Ellyn. Or perhaps I at Shara. “I was persuaded that it were better Hel’s Town aid you than stand neutral. So I offer you an army.”

“And they’re fine fighters,” Kerid said.

“Why?” I asked. I’d know my allies before I trusted them.

Mother Hel blushed, I thought. “I have come to trust Kerid,” she said. “And he convinced me of your cause. I’d not see Talan of Danant own the river—nor his Vachyn hireling. Say me nay, and I’ll go home. I’ll go back to my ships and leave the river clear.”

I said, quickly, “I’d not see that, Mother. I’d sooner have you on my side, and see Ellyn on Chaldor’s throne. I thank you for your aid, and welcome you to our side.”

She nodded imperiously. “And how goes your war?”

I told her, and she said, “Shall we make a difference against a Vachyn sorcerer?”

“Shara’s with us,” I said. “And Ellyn owns magic now. Can Danant not send more men …”

“They’d find it hard,” she said coolly. “The Durrakym’s held by my—pirates, you call them? No matter—there’s not
a Danant vessel can cross the river without a bloody fight they’ll likely lose. So what do we do here?”

“Talan and his Vachyn sit in Chorym,” I said. “They’ve made no major move against us yet, but Shara wonders if Nestor gathers some great power.”

“And what do you do?” she asked.

“I’ve siege engines ready,” I said. “And now you’re with us, I think we can attack.”

“Even against the Vachyn?”

I shrugged. “I cannot know what Nestor plans, but all the Highlanders are ready. We must begin soon, win or lose.”

“How far to Chorym?” she asked.

I said, “Six leagues.”

“We’ll be there on the morrow,” she said. “Close on first light. Do you wait for us to come up before you start your engines?”

I nodded.

“We’ll take the city,” she said. “I think that not even a Vachyn sorcerer can stand against the combined might of the Highlands and Hel’s Town.”

I grinned at her. I liked her. I said, “Thank you, Mother.”

Kerid said, “You’ll stay with us tonight?”

I shook my head, hoping I offended no Hel’s Town protocols. “Thank you, but no. I’d bring Ellyn this news as soon as I can.”

Mother Hel said, “Then we’ll talk more tomorrow. I’d speak with Ellyn and this Shara. Come the dawn we’ll be with you.”

I smiled and rose and made my farewells, and rode back to Chorym with the good news.

T
he chamber had once been pleasant—a room filled in summer with light from the high windows, warmed in winter by the heat of the great hearth, set round with comfortable chairs in which a visitor might sit and peruse one of the many books or scrolls that filled the shelves along the walls. Now the windows were hidden behind sable drapes, and the books and scrolls and parchments were all given to the fire that blazed under the high arch, giving off a rank odor of putrescence that suggested the pages of the library burned things more mortal than paper.

The chairs were all shoved to the sides of the room, the center of which was occupied by a single table on which Nestor had set the instruments of his magic. Some were inanimate—pieces of bone and stone, crystal vials containing fluids that seethed and bubbled, skulls and the drying wings of dismembered birds—others were living, and moaned as the Vachyn performed his arcane magicks.

Nestor moved around them, mouthing incantations that set little sparklings of dark light to dancing about the chamber, and his living objects to screaming. He seemed not to hear the cries—or did not care. He only went on with his cantrip, taking up a knife when it was needed to carve through flesh, selecting those organs necessary to the spell
and casting them into the flames, adding a bone or a wing, or a skull so that the fire sputtered and blazed and gusted foul, stinking smoke that filled the room before the chimney took it and raised it up over Chorym’s walls.

Outside, men watched the smoke rise and spread, un-commanded by the wind, obeying only the Vachyn’s diktat.

There came a knocking at the door and Nestor hesitated an instant. Heard Talan’s voice, and slashed a cut across a woman’s eyeball and another over the curve of her throat as he continued to mouth his spell. He dug the eye out and drenched it in the spouting blood, then tossed the horrid burden into the fire. Only then did he open the door.