by CJ Brightley
“I would rather join your party, sir. But if you do not allow me that, I still have information that may serve the prince.” He stood very still and finally I removed the blade from his throat, watching him closely. I could barely see him incline his head respectfully. “Thank you, sir. I can’t blame you for mistrusting me. But I wondered if you would be going to Stonehaven at all if you knew of the invasion.”
“What invasion?”
He bobbed his head again. “I thought not. The word went out yesterday, and I heard it from a friend.”
The rumors through the army were as bad as those in the marketplace. Gossiping soldiers are worse than gossiping old biddies over their knitting.
“Sir, Taisto sent word to Commander Katzu Itxaro, the kedani commander, to begin marching toward Enkotan immediately. The message will not be received for some two or three more days, but Taisto intends to bring down their capital. Word went out to Commander Yoshiro Kepa to march toward the eastern border and then to reinforce Itxaro’s attack as possible when they arrived. Both messages went out last night.”
Phraa. I wished there was more light so that I could see the boy’s face more clearly. He was young, and his voice was very quiet. I wondered whether the tremor was from fear of me or fear of being caught by Taisto. “Have you any proof of this?”
“No sir, no proof. But you’ll hear the rumors yourself when you reach Stonehaven. If you go on there.” He hesitated. “I have friends in the kedani myself, sir. They don’t see the purpose in invasion. Enkotan has nothing we want that we can’t buy more easily than taking it by force. Their army is nothing to ours, but attacking over the mountains will be costly.”
In that he was undoubtedly right, and though I still could not see his face I judged him honest. I cursed Taisto silently. What was he thinking now? What purpose would this serve?
“Sir? There is something else. The orders were sent to Itxaro in the prince’s name. Taisto knows Itxaro has cast his lot with the prince, though I don’t know how, and he sent the orders under the prince’s name in order to ensure Itxaro’s compliance.” He subsided into an unhappy silence.
No doubt Taisto would deal with Itxaro’s loyalty later. The rain fell steadily as I thought. Phraa. This was interesting. Difficult.
Finally I spoke. “Follow me then. We’d best get on.”
He followed me back to where Serkan was waiting anxiously with my horse. I had him mount behind Serkan and we followed the road to Likur, the next small town on the road. I had expected that Hakan would be there waiting, but there were only a few soldiers. Again I cursed inside. I wanted Hakan’s guidance. I am not qualified to make political decisions, but there was no time to follow them.
The men informed me that Hayato had hurried Hakan hotfoot to Rivensworth for fear of meeting Eker’s squad on the road. They had been worried. I’d disappeared for quite some time. In the drenching darkness I could judge the passage of time only with difficulty.
It was a good decision by Hayato to hurry on, for there were few of us and in the darkness anything could happen. If Hakan was badly injured or killed in an otherwise successful skirmish, all was lost. But still it worried me.
Now, in the telling of it, I wonder at my own readiness to trust such important news from unknown sources whose verity and loyalty I could not judge. I may have trusted too much in the uniforms they wore and my own experiences with so many good soldiers. We were fortunate. The messages were true and those that carried them were honest. This I count more as a testament to the honor of Erdemen soldiers than to my own wisdom. Later, when I more fully understood the extent of Taisto’s treachery, I counted us more fortunate than I had realized.
At the inn in Likur, I used my last coins to buy parchment and quill, but I didn’t sit down to write. Serkan waited anxiously as I paced about the room. “Write this letter.”
He hurriedly sat down and pulled the quill and parchment to him. He must have wondered why I didn’t write it myself, but it was better for him to think me insufferably arrogant than to doubt my competence if I revealed that I couldn’t write.
“To Ashmu Tafari with utmost respect, from Kemen Sendoa, who serves the prince Hakan Ithel: I pledge you, on my honor and on that of His Royal Highness the prince Hakan Ithel, that the orders to march on Rikuto did not come from the prince. I beg you, as I have never begged before, to hold your men back in the face of this unforgivable insult to your great kingdom. Our soldiers have been given false orders by a false man, and desire conflict no more than your people do.” I waited for Serkan to catch up.
“I go to Stonehaven myself to do what I may in Hakan Ithel’s service and remove the poisonous traitor that now sits in the prince’s throne. Neither the prince nor I expect you to leave your people unprotected, but I beg you to let the men pass unharmed as long as you can. I pledge to do all I may to counter their orders and recall them with all possible speed. His Royal Highness the prince Hakan Ithel is well aware of your honorable conduct thus far and looks forward to better relations between our nations in the future. With all respect and trust in your cooperation, signed Kemen Sendoa.”
The boy hesitated.
“Sign it.”
He shifted nervously and then complied.
“Make a copy of it, then seal them both.” I walked back and forth, thinking as he wrote. Four long steps in each direction, five or six probably for a Tuyet. Two days for the message to reach the border, if we were fortunate, then how many to Enkotan?
“Now the next.”
He nodded, quill poised over a new sheet of parchment.
“To Katsu Itxaro, with respect, from Kemen Sendoa, who serves the prince Hakan Ithel: The orders you received were not from the prince, as you must know by now. I trust that you support the prince over Vidar and Taisto, and now is the time to prove your loyalty. The king Ashmu Tafari is an honorable man, and wants no war with Erdem, despite whatever rumors you may have heard from Stonehaven. He did not send the assassins against the prince; that was Taisto’s doing. The assassination plot was his, and those accused of it were merely conveniently removed before they could speak of his treachery. If you haven’t heard it yet, the recent news of Vidar’s death by poisoning should confirm this to you.
“I have begged that Tafari give you time to return to Erdem, though he has every right to send all his men against you now. Your division is strong, nearly as strong as his whole army, but there would be no purpose in spilling that much blood. If you would support the prince over the traitor, bring your men back with all possible haste, at least within our border but all the way to Stonehaven if you would be at the prince’s side at this final conflict. I have no authority to order you to, but I believe this would be the prince’s request were he here to give it. It would serve him far better than a pointless shedding of good men’s blood against the Rikutans, who have no grievance against us aside from what Taisto and Vidar have done. I trust to hear your answer with all due haste. Respectfully, Kemen Sendoa. Make a copy of that one as well.”
The boy sealed the two letters as I paced about the room wondering what else I should do.
I dictated a similar letter to Yoshiro Kepa, commander of the division that was to join Itxaro’s.
“Give me the letters.” In a moment I was out into the courtyard, where the soldiers were waiting. “I need couriers. Immediately.”
Several men stood, and I chose the closest. “These go to anyone in the Rikutan army, to be taken directly to the king or to his brother Zuzay Tafari if he’s close by. It’s two copies, in case one of you meets with a delay.”
The men nodded.
“These go to Katsu Itxaro, who leads the kedani now marching toward Enkotan. Again, two copies. And these two go to Yoshiro Kepa, heading toward the eastern border.” Another nod, the men standing expectantly. “Kill the horses beneath you if necessary. Go now!”
19
We set off fast after Hakan and Hayato, but after only a few minutes on the road the rain grew even heavier. We
were forced to slow the horses to a walk, picking our way through the deepening mud. I heard muffled curses sometimes from the men behind me when they lost the track and ran into a low hanging branch. I didn’t mind the rain for my own sake, since I was already thoroughly soaked and it wasn’t cold, but I hoped the messengers had outridden the heaviest of the downpour.
The first sign of trouble was the panicked scream of a horse behind me. Then there was much shouting, but the night was too dark to see much. I heard the twang of a bow more than once and bent low over the horse’s neck. I worked my way back through the muddy jumble of men and horses. My horse stumbled, and I found myself pushed up hard against Baris Eker and his horse.
He shouted for his men, and some of them pulled back, though we were all still confusedly interspersed in the darkness. I heard several swords drawn, but in truth I doubted any of the men wanted to fight. It was too dark and too confused, and any of us could kill a friend just as easily as an enemy, or be killed by a friend. Besides, the men wore the same uniforms, the crest of the same kingdom upon them, and there is something sobering about that.
Eker pulled away from me, cursing as he wheeled his horse about. He called for the archers to shoot me. I could scarcely see him in the darkness and I doubted the archers could see me clearly either, but I heard bowstrings stretching taut.
“Sir, I don’t think he’s even drawn his sword.”
That voice was off to my left. If arrows did start to fly, I would drop to the right side, keep my horse between the archer and me.
“Phraa! Shoot him! He’s more dangerous than any ten of you!”
Still they hesitated.
I smiled then, hoping they could see it. I was cool and calm to his hot temper, and any soldier would respect that. “Why, Eker? Because I support the prince over a traitor?”
He cursed and kicked his horse forward, though still well out of easy reach. “There’s a price on your head, Sendoa, and I intend to collect it.” He raised his voice. “And I’ll split it with any man that helps me!”
“A price set by a traitor! A usurper who sits on the throne rightfully belonging to the prince Hakan Ithel!” I wondered if any of his men were listening.
Eker must not have trusted them, for he suddenly kicked his horse toward me, cursing and attacking wildly. My sword met his, but I did no more than parry before the archers let fly. They apparently made different choices, or the darkness hampered their shooting, for two arrows thudded into Eker while one hummed past my ear and a fourth cut deeply into my right shoulder. Eker slid off his skittish mount with scarcely a sigh.
I leapt after him, but my sword at his throat was unnecessary. He was dead before he hit the ground.
“Eker is dead. If any man would collect that price for my head, take your chances now. I’ve an arrow in my shoulder.” I heard nothing but the horses moving restlessly in the steady rain.
Finally there was a voice out of the darkness. “No, sir. I have no wish to fight you.”
I kept my head well down as I listened, my left hand exploring the damage on my shoulder. The arrow had not actually lodged in my shoulder, for it had come from an awkward angle far off to my left, but the sharp iron head had furrowed a dangerously deep gouge through the muscle. I couldn’t tell how much blood there was as it mixed with the rain, but the hot smell of it stung in my nostrils. The rain felt oddly cool when it flowed into the wound. I should have been faster to drop to the right, but Eker’s horse had been in my way.
“No one wishes to collect the prize?” I took care not to sound too strong, even letting my voice waver a bit.
“No sir.”
“No.”
“I’d rather serve the prince, sir.”
I tried again. “Not even the man who shot at my head? It was a good shot in the darkness.” There was silence except for the rain. I waited a moment more before mounting again. “Then any man who wishes to cast his lot with Taisto had best get on. I’ve cast mine with the prince and will not change it now.” I wheeled about and let the men follow as they might.
I half expected an arrow in my back as we rode on slowly through the darkness. It wouldn’t have been difficult for one of the archers to work his way close to me. But no arrow came, and the men stayed soberly quiet in the drenching downpour. I eventually enlisted Serkan’s aid to bandage my shoulder, and he made a good attempt given the darkness and rain.
We finally reached Rivensworth not long before dawn. The guards opened the gates to us and Sirak Zhurbinar, Bakar’s deputy, greeted us himself. Sirak means “support,” and in my weariness I found that comforting.
Hakan, Hayato, and his men had arrived some hours before, mostly ahead of the rain. The men with me were shown to the barracks and fell into bed to sleep before we set out again. Zhurbinar showed me to a nicer room, which he said was Hakan’s request when I arrived. Until then we had been walking and speaking in the darkness, but he lit a lamp to show me the room, and suddenly he cursed. “Why didn’t you say something? Come, man, let’s take a look at that.”
“What?” I looked down at myself as he set the lamp down on a little table. “Oh. It’s not as bad as it looks.” The front of my shirt was covered in blood, bright red streaks diluted unevenly by the rainwater. “If I could have a clean bandage, it will be fine. The rain made it look much worse than it is.”
He nodded and sent a guard hurrying for clean water and bandages. “Let me take a look. Take off your shirt.”
I peeled off the dripping bloody shirt and it fell to the floor with a wet slap. I’d wash it and hope it dried, for I had nothing else to wear for the morrow.
I sat while he untied the bandage. I wondered that he didn’t call for the healer instead, but he explained it before I asked. “I trained as a healer as well as a soldier. I always thought it should be part of every soldier’s training, but my superiors never seemed to take that suggestion seriously.”
I would have, for I’ve seen several men die who could have been helped with just a bit more knowledge. My own knowledge is limited, so I cannot fault others for the same lack, but I can see the value of it all the same.
“Good. You’re right, it’s not as bad as it looked at first, but I wouldn’t begrudge you a few complaints. Looks like it hurts. You can bite this while I wash it if you want.” He handed me a roll of cloth, but I didn’t need it. I sat close by the table so he could see in the flickering lamplight. He cleaned the wound and washed it with wine, then powdered it with some herbs he said would help prevent infection. Then he stitched it and bound it more securely.
He gave me the news in uneven spurts through his concentration, and I wished we had more men like him. When Hakan was king, I would advise him to spend more money and more effort on training of healers, for the army did not have enough of them.
“I’d like a longsword, if you’ll lend me one.” I also wanted a bath, because I was covered in mud and grit, but there wasn’t time for one.
“Of course. Why? Something happen to yours?”
“No, mine is fine. Hakan doesn’t have one.”
“He doesn’t?” He looked up in surprise. “He’s not armed?”
“No.” Of course he had a bootknife, but there was no way to get a good sword for him out in the hills where we had been for months. “But he will be.”
“Of course.” He finished on my shoulder and stepped back. “Much better. It’s not pretty, but you’ll have good use of your arm, I think. How does it feel?”
“Well enough. Thank you.” In truth, my broken ribs still surprised me at times with pain much sharper and more immediate, though that skirmish was nearly six weeks past. Six weeks isn’t long for broken ribs, but I had more important things that demanded my attention, and it was frustrating.
“What’d you do there?” He nodded at the strap around my ribs for the first time, though he’d noticed earlier.
“A couple broken ribs. They’re healing.”
He frowned more severely, but only unbuckled his scabbard a
nd handed it to me. “I’ll use a standard issue. Give him this one, it’s the best we have here.”
I examined it closely. It was finely made but still very serviceable, though it had not seen much use. It was an officer’s weapon, certainly more beautiful than a standard issue longsword. “Standard issue is fine. I’m giving him mine. I trust it best. Whatever you give me will be for my use, not his. If you’d rather not lend a mercenary such a beautiful blade, I won’t be insulted.” I wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d been offended at my mistrust of his weapon, taken it back and sent the guard for a standard issue, but he smiled suddenly.
“Good. I’m glad you’re with him. Take it.”
He gave me a clean shirt, and I left the old one hanging over the back of a chair to dry. When he left, I washed as best I could and fell into bed for well-deserved rest. But the sun rose in only a few hours, and I was up with it. I consider myself very collected and not easily excited, and in general it’s true, even before battle. But I was tense and restless, and I believe it was because my fear was not for myself but for Hakan. My shoulders were tight and I went outside to sweat out my nerves.
I exercised in the grey light of dawn. The sky had cleared though the ground was still wet and muddy. I watched the company go through their exercises together. Hakan met me when the morning exercises were nearly finished, standing quietly as he watched the men practice their sequences.
Finally he spoke. “I take it you had some trouble last night?”
“Aye. A bit. Baris Eker is dead, and some of his men have cast their lot with you.”
He looked up at me seriously. “And the others?”
I spoke quietly so only he could hear me. “Half of them took the north road to Stonehaven. I know nothing about them. I’m not sure about some of the ones that fell in with us. You haven’t asked, but I’d recommend that we leave them here in training under Zhurbinar when we continue on to Stonehaven. Not under arrest, for there is no proof of anything, but out of your way until your throne is assured.”