Diamond Warriors

by David Zindell

  'What happened?' Maram bellowed out to us. 'One moment, we were all riding along together, and then the next. . .'

  His voice died off into the twitterings of the birds as he gazed at me. 'Val! You can see again!'

  As I sat on top of my horse beneath the maple's pointed and shining leaves, I could see perfectly Maram's heavily bearded face, happy with relief. Through the greenery of the trees, I could make out some red clusters of sumac nearly a hundred yards away. I could not, however, detect any sign of the Ahrim.

  'Then you are free,' he said, 'and you...'

  Again, Maram stopped speaking as he looked at Alphanderry sitting on top of his horse as he plucked at his shiny mandolet. And then Maram shouted, 'Alphanderry! Is it really you? What happened?'

  Abrasax took charge of giving an account of how we had come to enter the Lokii's wood and our meeting with Ondin. Maram -along with Master Juwain, liljana, Daj and Joshu Kadar - listened in wonderment to his words.

  'Strange,' Master Juwain said, pulling at his ruined ear. 'Everything you have told us, so strange. And strangest of all, perhaps, is this matter of time, it seems that you spent nearly a whole

  day with the Lokilani, but to us, you went missing only moments ago.'

  He had no explanation for this mystery, nor did Abrasax, Master Virang or any of us. But Daj seemed more interested in something else. He said to us, 'Each of the Vilds seems larger on the inside than the outside, in whatever part of the world we have found them - but how can that be?'

  No one could explain this, either. And no one wanted to venture a guess as to how we seven had entered the Vild while our other companions had been left behind. Liljana, however, saved the better part of her amazement for the miracle of Alphanderry's return. She nudged her horse up to his, and leaned over and planted a loud, smacking kiss on his cheek. 'You are as alive as you ever were, and who knew that the Ieldra had such power? But, since you do live and breathe, you'll soon be hungry again, just like any other man. So why don't we leave these woods and find a place where I can cook you a good meal?'

  On our way back to the army's encampment, that evening and part of the next day, Liljana had more than one chance to prepare sustaining foods and serve Alphanderry once again. We rode back across the middle of Mesh, down the North Road and through Hardu, crossing the Arashar River in midafternoon. I looked for the Ahrim through wood and glen and along the roadside for every mile of our journey. Although I could find no sign of it, I felt its presence lurking behind nearly every tree, bush and farmhouse. Our entrance into the camp created a stir. A rumor, it seemed, had circulated among my army that I had been stricken blind. As I rode down the lanes of tents toward my billowing, black pavilion, I did my best to dispel it. Warriors in their thousands lined my way to greet me; I met eyes with as many of them as I could, and I called out hundreds of names: 'Ramaru of Ki; Barshan Nolaru; Skymar Yuval; Juladan the Bold. . .' I knew then, to my amazement, that I had not stood inside my tent for days greeting these men in vain. They now greeted me in high spirits, and I guessed that they would pass around a new rumor: that my quest for a vision had been successful, and soon I would lead them out of Mesh to war.

  We marched at dawn on the 26th of Soldru, a day of intense sunshine and bright, blue skies. The captains of my army - Lord Tanu, Lord Tomavar, Lord Sharad and Lord Avijan - gave me a report of our numbers: ten thousand and eighty-nine men. Although more than fifteen thousand had stood for me in our encampment's square, I had to leave many behind for Mesh's defense. And many warriors were too old or too crippled with old wounds, taken at the Culhadosh Commons and at other battles, to set out with us.

  It was a smaller army than most that my father had fielded. I thought, however, that we would fight just as well, and perhaps even better, since we would be contending not just for our own lives but; those of our people - and perhaps everyone in the world.

  I led forth, with Joshu Kadar riding beside me and holding the Elahad banner, with its silver swan and stars. Lord Avijan's companies of knights formed my vanguard, nearly four hundred strong; their gleaming shields showed blue bulls and golden eagles and hundreds of other charges against fields of white, black or red. I assigned Lord Shared's three hundred cavalry to guard our rear, they would have a boring, dusty duty of looking after the many wagons in our vulnerable baggage train - more wagons than I would have guessed that Lord Harsha could have assembled and filled with supplies considering the short notice that I had given him. Between the train and the vanguard marched the Meshian foot: more than nine thousand warriors clad in brilliant diamond armor. With each step, the jangling of the silver bells fastened around their ankles rang out in a great nerve piercing sound. Lord Tanu commanded seven battalions of them, and Lord Tomavar likewise. Although Lord Avijan still mistrusted Lord Tomavar, and had argued against giving him such an important command, I kept faith with my father's judgment in this. As much as possible, I wished to preserve the order of battle that had led us to victory at the Culhadosh Commons.

  Maram and Kane, of course, rode with me in the van, while Master Juwain and Liljana kept pace with Abrasax and the ether Masters of the Brotherhood farther back. It seemed odd that they should accompany us on our way to battle. But I could not bear to leave Bemossed ill-guarded in Mesh, and where the Maitreya went, they would go as well. I told myself that each of the Seven possessed skills that we might need - if only I could prevail upon these willful old men to employ them in my service. One last time, I tried to persuade Daj and Estrella that they would both be better off taking up residence at Lord Harsha's farm with Behira. But they persuaded me - with the sheer, soaring force of their spirits - that they must follow me to the end of our road. They feared their own deaths, I thought, much less than I did. In the end, king or no, I had to relent. I knew the limits of my power.

  Our route took us back through Hardu, and then down the North Road (here called the South Road) through Godhra. In this city of smithies, the smoke from thousands of coal fires filled the air and stung our eyes. Many people turned out to watch us march past. They cast roses upon the warriors and shouted out their blessings. It seemed that all of Mesh now knew what we intended to accomplish, and why.

  It was fifty miles, altogether, down the good road from Hardu to the Sky Pass in Mesh's southernmost mountain range. We made this distance in three days; I might have pressed my army to even greater speed, but I did not want to tire my men too sorely at the very beginning of our campaign. Then, too, the road from Godhra climbed steeply up to the pass, and with the wagons full of stores and creaking slowly along, the oxen had a long, hard work of pulling them. No other way out of Mesh took a traveler up so high. By the time we reached the great stone kel keep guarding it, the terrain about us was all barren tundra, ice, rocks and snow. Some clouds formed up, and it rained upon us: icy pellets of water that caused ten thousand men to wrap themselves tightly in their cloaks. We were all glad, I thought, after we had descended the pass and came out into the broader - and drier - valley below. But there, at the end of the valley, where the foothills gave way to the rolling grasslands of the Wendrush, we found ourselves at the very edge of the country claimed by the Sarni's Mansurii tribe: one of Mesh's oldest and fiercest enemies.

  We made camp with the mountains to our backs on this foreign soil. I ordered our rows of tents to be surrounded by a moat and earthen stockade. My warriors had a bitterly hard time employing picks and shovels to break through the steppe's tough sod to the black earth beneath. But I would not needlssly expose my army to attack by the Mansurii's horse archers. On another campaign across the Wendrush, two years before, I had discovered just how vulnerable even the best knights in the world could be to armor-piercing arrows fired at a distance by the galloping Sarni. In truth, I knew I took a great chance in leading my men through this land. But only one other route led to Kaash, and that would have taken us through Waas.

  'And we can't cross Waas, if we are to surprise the Waashians,' I overheard one warrior telling another tha
t night around one of our many campfires. 'I'd rather risk a battle with the Mansurii, who might never notice us, than call down the Waashians to face us on their own ground.'

  It pleased me that my captains had passed along my intentions to the warriors. I wanted each of them to understand our strategy so that they could march into battle like men, instead of ants, even as they fought like killer angels. That night, in my pavilion, I gathered with my captains and other lords around my map table. I traced my finger along the curve of the mountains, bending north and east up toward Waas, and then back south and around to form Kaash's border with the Mansurii. If we marched straight for Kaash, we would have a journey of ninety miles across the open spaces of the Wendrush. If we kept within easy retreat of the mountains, however much safer that might be, we would add miles to our journey.

  'Will spending a few extra days really bring us to Kaash too late?' Lord Tanu asked.

  'It might,' Lord Zandru told him. His long, apelike arm swept out toward the map. 'I have said that King Talanu can probably maneuver and delay things until the middle of Marud. But King Sandarkan might be able to bring him to battle sooner.'

  'Then time is of the essence,' Lord Sharad said.

  'In any case,' Lord Tomavar added, 'cleaving the mountains near Waas might not prove so very safe: what if we are spotted?'

  As had become my habit, I let the lords of Mesh speak from their hearts. In the end, though, I had to speak from mine, as well as follow it - along with ten thousand men.

  'Tomorrow,' I told them, 'we will send out riders to look for the Mansurii. Even if their warriors detect us, it will take them some time to assemble their clans and attack us. If we move quickly enough, we could reach Kaash before they call up their full strength.'

  'How quickly, then?' Lord Harsha asked me, gazing at me with his single eye.

  'Three days,' I told him. 'Four, at the most.'

  'But, Sire, the wagons are still nearly full,' he told me. 'The oxen will have a hard time of things, and the men almost as bad. You'll march their legs off.'

  Kane answered for me then. He caught up Lord Harsha in his fierce gaze and growled out, 'March their legs off? Ha - that's better than cutting them off when they rot from the filth that the Mansurii spread on their damn arrows!'

  We set out early the next morning across the trackless steppe, driving the oxen as hard as we dared. The wagons bumped and lurched over the grassy, uneven ground. The jangling of the warriors' silver bells drove up flocks of birds and herds of gazelles bounding from our path. In the distance, lions roared, though none of us in the vanguard or farther back had the privilege of laying eyes on these noble beasts. But neither did we, or our outriders, espy any of the Mansurii, and we all gave thanks for that.

  Along our way, Estrella stopped to pick some white yarrow growing in sprays across the sun-seared grass. She bound them up and gave them to Bemossed. She could not explain, in words, the purpose of her gift. But those of us who knew her understood well enough: she tried in her own quiet way to inspirit him. For even as my warriors marched forth to distant battles, Bemossed continued fighting his nightly and hourly battle with Morjin. This great struggle seemed to wear away at him. No matter how much good food Liljana tried to urge into him, he had little appetite, and seemed to be growing thinner. His flesh hung dark and bruised beneath his eyes, and he rode along under the hot sun as if trying to bear its fiery weight upon his shoulders.

  Alphanderry, as well, tried to cheer him. Especially at nights, around a blazing campfire, he took out his mandoiet and played stirring, ancient epics. He composed songs of his own, singing straight to Bemossed's soul. This helped, a little. What nourish-ment Bemossed failed to find in salted beef or barley bread, he seemed to take in music, I remembered the songs that Ondin had taught me so many years before, and I added my voice to Alphanderry's, and we sang out ancient harmonies that pleased the warriors and finally brought a gleam to Bemossed's eyes. I remembered that the Ieldra, at the beginning of time, had sung the whole universe into being, and on those star-filled nights on the steppe with the lions roaring and ten thousand warriors singing along with us about the miracle of creation, all things seemed possible.

  During the days and nights of our march to Kaash, I reflected often on the words etched into my sword: Vas Sama Yeos Valarda. What would it mean truly to see my enemy as myself? What would I do if I could? I wondered, with every mile of grass that my great stallion trampled beneath his hooves, at the powers of my sword - and even more at the deepest impulses of my soul.

  Three days and a morning it took us to cross the pocket of grassland pressed up against the curve of the Morning Mountains between. Mesh and Kaash. Our luck held good. Our outriders sighted not a single Mansurii warrior, nor did I lose any of my warriors to sunstroke, exhaustion, the flux, or any of a hundred other maladies that strike down men on the march. Three oxen, only, dropped beneath the great weights they pulled. Lord Harsha had them butchered and roasted, and my tradition-loving Meshian warriors put tooth to this fresh meat with much greater gusto than they had exhibited toward the antelope and gazelles that the hunters had brought in.

  Lord Zandru the Hammer, riding a large white gelding, steered us straight toward the opening in the southwest curve of the mountains known as the Lion's Gate. Tall, white-capped peaks rose up to either side of this narrow and rocky gap. The Kaashans had built a great fortress on a hill overlooking the Lion's Gate. Lord Zandru, with Lord Avijan, Lord Noldashan and other knights, rode up to this heap of stones to inform the fortress' commander that the Meshians had come to answer Kaash's call. The commander -a Lord Yulsun - seemed both surprised and delighted to learn this news. He opened the Lion's Gate to our army, in a manner of speaking, and we encamped that night on pasturage along a river to the north of the fortress.

  Lord Yulsun, according to protocol, invited my captains and me to take meat in his fortress. But because I did not want to leave my men, I invited into our encampment Lord Yulsun and as many of his warriors as could leave their duties. I had my council table set up on the grass outside between four blazing fires, and there I sat at dinner with Lord Yulsun, Lord Zandru and my captains and the other greatest lords of Mesh.

  Lord Yulsun, a spare, old warrior who had lost one eye and part of his cheek bone from a Mansurii arrow, wasted no time in niceties. He was hard, blunt man used to speaking his mind.

  'King Valamesh,' he said, addressing me with a grave formality, 'no one in Kaash expected you to gain your father's throne. And for you to march to our aid at a moment's notice, when we failed to march to yours - this is a very great thing. Who would have thought it possible?'

  'Sometimes,' I said, thinking of my father, 'it seems that everything is possible.'

  'Perhaps it is,' he told me, 'for the one who gained the Lightstone out of Argattha and tried to bring our people together in alliance. But then King Shamesh was a great man, and so why should we not expect even greater things of his son?'

  I bowed my head to acknowledge his kind words. And I looked around the table at my captains, and I told Lord Yulsun: 'We cannot let Waas defeat you. Our two kingdoms have been allies for ages, and we cannot let your misfortune of two years ago break that bond.'

  'I wish King Talanu were present to hear you say that! Your uncle would be proud of you, Valashu Elahad, if you don't mind my saying that. And pleased to see you leading ten thousand men. With our six thousand, we will surely outnumber the Waashians. If you can move quickly enough, we have a great chance to defeat them once and for all.'

  He told us that King Sandarkan's Waashians were marching down from Charoth, and that King Talanu had called up nearly every available warrior to throw them back. Their armies were to meet in battle along the west bank of the Rajabash River just south of a village called Harban.

  'I scouted that place two years ago,' Lord Zandru said to Lord Yulsun. 'It is a good battleground, with a pasturage of ten miles along the river, and almost two miles wide, rising up to the forest beneath Mount Ihs
an.'

  In Kaash, most mountainous of the Nine Kingdoms, clear and level ground on which a battle could be decently fought was almost as rare as water in the middle of the Red Desert.

  'Has a date been set for the battle yet?' Lord Zandru asked.

  'Yes,' Lord Yulsun told him, nodding his head. 'The sixteenth of Marud.'

  Lord Zandru turned to me. 'King Valamesh - it is a hundred miles from here northeast to Harban. Tomorrow will be the fifth, will it not? And so that gives us eleven days to cover a hundred miles.'

  Lord Zandru, in his zeal to lead reinforcements to his king, neglected to mention the obvious, which Maram now pointed out: 'Ah, but you're speaking of mountain miles, aren't you? It might be a hundred miles for a bird to fly from here to Harban, but how far is it really!'

  In the mountains, as my father had taught me, over rugged terrain that bent and twisted, rose and fell, a hundred miles' journey equaled twice or thrice that of a route taken across flatter country.

  Lord Zandru had no numbers to offer to Maram. but he did try to encourage him, saying, 'There is a road that leads from the Lion's Gate through the Ice Mountains to the Rajabash River.'

  'The Ice Mountains - oh, excellent!' Maram said. 'I suppose the peaks there did not acquire their name by accident? No? I thought not. Well, I hope it is a good road.'

  'As good as any in Kaash,' Lord Zandru told him. He turned toward me. 'If the weather holds, you should have time to make the march and meet up with your uncle south of Harban. When the Waashians learn of this, they will either have to retreat back to Waas or face defeat.'

  'Defeat,' I murmured. It had come that time in our meal when the plates of food were taken away and pitchers of beer set on the table. 'But can there be a defeat without defeat?