The High King: Book Two of the 'Riothamus' trilogy (38 page)

Alissa
laughed, “Thank me? You are not the only one to have enjoyed this
night’s work.” She lay back and stretched contentedly, like a cat,
aware and revelling in her womanhood.

Aran’s lips
quirked, “The night is still young. We have slept away the
exhaustion, and if I have not hurt you too much, perhaps we
might…”

Alissa’s
answer was immediate and gratifying.

*

Afterwards
they slept again, and woke to dawn and the sounds of a rousing
camp.

Aran lay back
feeling relaxed and extremely contented. Alissa was still asleep,
curled like a small animal in the protective curve of his arm.
Staring at the wind’s movement across the white canvas, Aran smiled
as he remembered the activity of the night. Several times they had
made love in the sheltering darkness, and thinking of it made Aran
realise that his body was responding yet again to Alissa’s
nearness, and the memories of what had gone before.

With a
regretful grin at the weeks of foolishness during which he had
denied himself the experience of Alissa’s body, Aran nevertheless
gently drew away from the sleeping woman, and sat up on the edge of
the bed. Standing, he ruefully grimaced at the stiffness in the
muscles behind his legs, then stretched and shivered as he realised
how cold the morning really was. Fishing around in the debris of
clothes by the bed, he threw on his soiled tunic to see if he could
find his saddle bags, and rouse someone to prepare some hot water
for a bath. Stepping outside, Aran pulled his wool tunic closer
about him as the cold wind blew a sprinkling of small snowflakes
upon his hair and face.

“My lord,” a
soldier keeping watch by one of the near fires noticed his king was
awake, and hurried over to offer his services.

“How goes the
camp?” Aran asked his eye taking in the scattering of fires, the
long rows of silent tents and the one or two figures emerging with
the dawn.

“Well lord,”
the young legio saluted. “All who returned from the engagement have
slept the day and night away and like you are even now beginning to
rise.”

Aran stared
down at his tunic, it had been heavily soiled with dried sweat and
the blood of the Thakur and Aran could not bear the feel of it
against his skin any longer.

“Man, can you
find my gear. It’s probably not far away…” Then Aran’s stomach
rumbled audibly, “See also if you can arrange for someone to bring
in hot water and a meal.” He glanced back inside the tent, “Make it
enough for two.”

The legio
grinned at that. All the camp now knew that Lady Alissa had moved
permanently into the King’s quarters. Indeed most of the talk was
why it had taken them so long to make such an arrangement…

*

Later, after
they had washed, dressed and eaten, Alissa and Aran were seated by
the remains of their meal. Both were feeling happily content with
the silence and each other’s company.

“Aran?” There
was a voice at the tent door, hesitant and questioning.

Aran stood and
smiled down at Alissa. “The day intrudes,” he murmured gently, “So
much for the quiet we were just speaking of…” Then he turned and
opened the tent door, “Ah Darven! Bini…come in. Did you sleep
well?”

“Aye Aran…”
there was a sudden movement by the canvas and the two soldiers
nervously stepped up onto the raised wooden floor.

“Alissa,” In
one word it was a greeting and a hesitant query all at once.

The young
woman understood the unsaid question and stood and smiled. “Come in
you two…I dare say it’s warmer in here than out. Did you sleep
well? Are you quite recovered?”

They nodded
and stepped inside.

When they were
inside, Aran pulled down the canvas door flap to keep in the
warmth, and seated himself back beside Alissa.

“Come on…sit
down. We won’t bite,” Aran was suddenly inexplicably enjoying the
nervous embarrassment of his two male friends.

Darven and
Bini unfolded a couple of wood and leather stools, and sat down
upon them, the leather creaking a little under their weight.

“Did everyone
rest well?” Aran asked. “I hope we didn’t lose any more of the
wounded overnight.”

Darven shook
his head, “The Healermages were able to stabilise the more
seriously injured. All they need now is rest and sleep.”

Aran nodded,
“Any word of the enemy?”

“None…our
scouting parties have returned,” replied Darven. “There is no sight
of the enemy within at least a day’s ride. I assume that the Thakur
were relying on their mounted advance force to secure positions
ahead of the slow marching infantry.”

Aran frowned;
his concentration and thoughts immediately back with the war at
hand. “We cannot just rely on mounted reports,” he turned to the
plainsman, “Bini, do you know if High Earthmage Drayden has
roused?”

The
golden-haired warrior shrugged, “I think I saw him in the
distance…at the mage’s enclave.”

“Could you
fetch him here,” Aran asked. “I need to get a long range report,
and at the moment I’d rather talk with Drayden than with the
Archmage.”

Darven’s
eyebrows quirked up at that, but Bini only nodded and disappeared
out of the tent. Aran caught Darven’s look and frowned.

“Don’t worry
Darven,” Aran reassured his friend, “I am a much saner man than I
what I was before…but that notwithstanding, I don’t think I’d care
to deal with Maran so soon.” He paused in order to marshal his
thoughts.

“The rest and
sleep have made me calmer,” he said explaining, “But there is
something between the Archmage and myself…” he added darkly.
“Something that will need a great deal of time to heal”

For a moment
his grey eyes grew shadowed, “I realise now that Maran acted as he
did for the good of the mages, but I don’t think I will be able to
forgive him his abandonment of the Guard.” His face creased with
remembered grief, “I am certain that Glaive could have done
something…”

Alissa put a
gentle, comforting hand on his arm. Gratefully Aran turned and
covered her hand with his own. She understood well his unspoken
thanks for her presence and support. A moment later there was
movement at the tent flap, and Bini came in with three figures at
his heels.

“Lord
Riothamus,” Bini apologised, “I know you were just asking for Mage
Drayden, but these other two men were asking about you, and heard
that you were awake and up…”

But Aran was
already on his feet and pulling out some of the stacked stools.
“Sit down Bini,” Aran smiled reassuringly, “For I know these men,
and they are welcome here.”

“How art thou
lad?” Craftsmaster Cody moved from the doorway, his large frame
seemingly to fill the tent. “I was worried for I had heard that
thou wert troubled and not thyself.”

Aran nodded,
“Aye Master Cody, but I believe now that I am somewhat back to
better humour.”

“Good!” Mage
Trevan stepped forward, and impassively held a hand against the
younger man’s brow. “There is no fever. You are lucky you did not
fall into sickness on that cold battlefield.” He stepped away and
ran a critical eye across his young friend, “There is something
changed about you Arantur,” he stated. “Yesterday morn and the day
before you were like a crazed dog ready to go for throats. Now you
seem more at peace, somehow resolved within yourself.”

Aran nodded,
and gestured that the others should sit, “There is much truth in
what you say Trevan.” He turned to the silent figure seated by,
“For this calmness you must owe Lady Alissa, only she has wrought
the change.”

Trevan bowed
his head to Alissa, “We are indebted to you Lady. There is little I
think the Healermages could have done to settle Arantur’s unique
problem.”

Alissa shook
her head, “I have done nothing, most of the resolution I believe
has come from Aran.” She turned to face the High Earthmage, “How go
the mages?”

Drayden
grinned wryly, “No dishonour to my Lord Arantur there, but the
mages flap around like startled chickens that have seen a fox in
the hen run.”

“And the
Archmage?” Aran questioned softly.

“He says
little,” the High Earthmage looked hard and long at his king. “My
Lord, although I cannot excuse the actions of Archmage Maran, I do
know he works for the good of the province and not against it.”

Aran nodded,
“I understand your words Mage Drayden, but unfortunately I cannot
forgive nor forget that Maran deliberately withheld his hand, and
let all those men die unnecessarily.”

Trevan nodded
unhappily, “Glaive too is divided on this issue.”

Drayden bent
forward his face a study in worry, “I am not the Archmage to offer
you sage advice lord….”

Aran stared at
the Earthmage, “Drayden, I do not think I could yet trust myself or
my temper around Maran. Yet the reality is that I need a
representative that has the Archmage’s ear and who stands in
Glaive’s High Circle.”

Aran turned to
Trevan, “My old friend, I trust you over any other mage, but as
Mage Drayden is senior in rank to you, I must ask him instead to be
my voice and ear at Glaive.”

Trevan smiled
wryly, “My lord, I am relieved only not to be asked, for in truth I
am too old to be involved in politics. My simple ambition is only
to aid and heal the sick and wounded.”

“An honourable
and worthy ambition,” agreed Alissa calmly.

“And not one
to be overlooked or spoken lightly of,” Aran added. “But do not
think I am letting you entirely off Trevan. I will need your
strength and wisdom even more now….”

“So what now
lords?” Darven had been sitting back quietly, listening to the low
conversation of the mages. “Do we wait here and prepare for the
great battles to come? Or do we once again take the battle to the
Thakur?”

“My soldiering
days are over” Aran said quietly, flatly. “I have an errand now
that will take me deep into Thakur.” He gazed around the faces of
his friends, “You all know that I must confront the enemy
Warleader. The one I have been told of, who names herself
Se-Taanata.”

“Rallying-Cry,” murmured Drayden enigmatically.

“What?” Aran
turned to the High Earthmage questioningly.

Drayden
shrugged, “When I was scouting in Thakur I picked up a little of
their language. Se-Taanata—as close as I can translate, means
‘Rallying-Cry’.”

“Not a name
given at birth,” Bini mused to himself. “But one assumed in later
life, like the plainsnames.” Seeing the other’s mystified faces, he
glanced across at Alissa and Drayden and strove to explain.

“I see the
heritage of the plains stamped clearly upon those two there,” the
plainsman said simply. “If their ancestors had not forsaken the
plains they may have been granted names like Alissa Sworddaughter
and Drayden Eaglekin.”

Aran smiled,
“I think I understand…” He turned to the plainsman, “At birth you
would have been named Bini. When and why did you get the name
Stardreamer?”

The warrior
smiled in recollection.

“Plainschildren are given their second names once their bodies
change into adults.” He grinned, “As a child I was much given to
lying on my back at night and watching the stars.” He frowned
remembering, “Once as a child I dreamt that a great winged star
would rise and travel slowly across the night sky. Then days later,
when the winged star did indeed rise, my parents thought they had
birthed a great SpiritDreamer.” He laughed, “That however was my
only brush with the unseen world of omens and truedreams, but it
gained me my name.”

“Precognition
of the natural world is one of the primary aspects of the
Earthmage,” murmured Drayden, gazing at the plainsman. “You might
have an Ability, young man.”

The warrior
shook his head, “It only happened once….”

“Once is
enough…” he moved over to where Bini and Darven were seated, “May I
Scan you?” he asked.

Bini shrugged,
and then stiffened as he felt for the first time the residual heat
of a Scanning. Aran watched as he saw Drayden take a deep breath,
and collect himself after the Scanning. Silently he went back to
his chair and sat down, a little too heavily Aran thought, after
such a simple application of the magepower.

“So?” Aran
asked.

Drayden stared
narrowly across at the two soldiers.

“The world is
becoming a very strange place my lord Arantur,” he said at
last.

Aran frowned,
“Is there a problem, Drayden?”

Drayden
moistened suddenly dry lips, “I was correct, Plainsman Bini
Stardreamer is a latent Earthmage, however there was something
else…I picked up a bounce from Wolf Leader Darven.”

Darven sat
upright, his face a mirror of puzzlement.

“A bounce?”
Aran asked.

Darven shook
his head in perplexity, “Sometimes a Scan will echo or bounce off
another mage, especially if that mage is seated or standing next to
the person being Scanned.”

Aran’s face
brightened, “Are you trying to tell me that Darven has a latent
Ability.”

The High
Earthmage nodded and there was a strangled sound of horror from the
Wolf Leader.

“What
Ability?” Alissa asked quietly.

The High
Earthmage’s eyes slewed around to rest upon the pale face of his
king.

“Warriormage.”

Aran’s breath
hissed out, “Are you certain?”

The
golden-haired mage nodded, and then strove to explain. “When first
I met you King Arantur, I saw immediately your Metalmage Ability,
and behind that I sensed another Ability. At that time it was a
lesser one and it was almost hidden by the strength of the other.”
He paused, “When you were scanned at Glaive by the High Circle I
was given a name for that other Ability…it was called Warriormage.
Once I felt that particular Ability, I never forgot it, but I never
thought to feel it again in another living man.” He turned to face
Darven, “Until now.”