by Simon Brown
When he got to the palace he was redirected to the alcazar of the dead Duchess Yunara, and when he got there an official at the door, who seemed disturbed that anyone would want to see the empress, told him to wait, he would be seen to in turn.
So Mikhel waited, and every now and then saw one of the empress’s new Axkevlerens escorted by guards on the way to the aviary, their look of self-pity and self-loathing almost too much for him to bear. He knew, as did everyone in the army, about the stories of the empress’s need for a constant supply of Axkevlerens, but had dismissed it as idle talk. He had been with Lerena’s army during its conquest of Rivald and had not noticed anything seriously awry with her then. But here and now, seeing the faces of the lost people being led into the aviary, it occurred to him that possibly, just possibly, Lerena was not the cure for the plague after all.
35
Captain Ainchell had thought it a fine chase, running through the night and all the morning with five of his fastest ships after the fleeing enemy and his own Star of Ember, but now it was almost over. The enemy was being overhauled, and his ship’s longgon crews had carefully primed their charges. If the opposing captain did not soon strike his colours, Ainchell would send his ship straight to the bottom of the sea.
‘Sails ahead!’ came the cry from the watch on the masthead.
‘What?’ Ainchell demanded, although the watch up there could not have heard his voice. He took the voice trumpet from the deck marshal and shouted up at the watch, ‘What sails?’
‘Four ships, all with Kydan’s jack!’ the report continued. ‘Bearing straight for us!’
Four ships? Well, Kydan’s navy must be larger than he thought, but some town in this backwater of a land was not going to build ships he need worry about.
‘Stay on course,’ he ordered the helmsman, giving the trumpet back to the deck marshal. ‘I’ll not let some fishing ketches deprive me of this catch.’
He took his glass and leaned over the railing so he could see ahead. The enemy’s new sails were just coming into view. Ainchell had to admit to himself that they did not look like the sails any fishing ketch would carry. When the hull of the first ship slid into sight he wondered for the first time if he had fallen into a trap. When he saw the hulls of the remaining three oncoming enemy ships, he was positive he had. He had never seen a ship cram so many longgons onto a deck before.
Ainchell was just about to give the order to sail about when he saw the acting captain of Star of Ember, much closer to the enemy than he was, had already made the decision, bringing his ship about to port. Then he noticed the ship was sporting a red jack. With three golden stripes. It must have been captured in the earlier action, he realised with shock, and then returned under its original colours to lure more of his forces out into the trap.
‘By the Sefid,’ Ainchell said under his breath. ‘I have been following two enemy ships the whole way out.’
*
Yet another attack by the redjackets, this time on Rodin’s vanguard. And this time from the west. By now the prince was not surprised any more. He hurried forward and helped steady the column as long-range enemy fire peppered his ranks. Only a few fell, but on top of all the other ‘few’ who had fallen so far this day, the total was running high.
‘Keep it going, lads!’ he shouted encouragingly. ‘We will be safe in Sayenna! Keep it together and keep it going!’
I still have the great bulk of my infantry, he told himself. The army is fine. Just get it into Sayenna, he told himself, and you can hold off a hundred such attacks and not lose any soldiers at all.
As he sent off reinforcements for the skirmish line, which was not yet doing much of a job skirmishing, a rider, one of his last handful of cavalry, galloped up.
‘Your Highness, the enemy is attacking –’
‘I can see that!’ Rodin shouted back.
‘– with cavalry. Dragoons, we think. From the rear.’
‘I see,’ Rodin said. ‘Thank you.’
The rider saluted and galloped off.
Now that was something I had not expected, Rodin admitted to himself. The reports from Strategos Reed had not mentioned any horse troops at all, let alone dragoons. The assumption had been that the small detachment Maddyn had taken with him from Hamilay had been dissipated in the several battles to secure control of the city, and since there were no reports of horses anywhere in the New Land except for those introduced by Hamilay, Rodin had not thought the enemy would possess any horse troops. Could they have come from Rivald, perhaps? But there was no record in Sayenna of the Rivald introducing cavalry either.
He stopped, unrolled his chart once more and calculated how far they had to go. They had passed the junction between the Elder and Younger rivers, so were now following The Wash directly south. At this pace, and in this summer heat, it would be another two days at least before they would sight Sayenna. And at this pace, his soldiers would be in no fit condition to defend themselves, let alone the city. So three to four days, then. But could he hold the army together under constant sniping and raiding for that long? They were taking casualties constantly from firegons shot at long range, and were not able to return the compliment. And now the enemy had cavalry, which would run rings around his force. He was tempted to bring all the columns abreast and march his army south that way instead of in line, shortening the gaps between his infantry and putting his supply wagons in the middle. But the enemy would then close from the rear and the van instead of from his flanks. There seemed no way out of his problem except to march on, stolidly and determinedly, taking the casualties and not getting a chance to hit back. At least, not until he got reinforcements from Hamilay. He would make sure he got engineers and cavalry, a lot of cavalry, then he would sweep the country clean and build forts along this whole river system so his armies could march from one end to the other without a shot being fired at them. And then he would gather every bloody redjacket together and set fire to the bloody lot.
*
Ainchell decided honour had been served after the enemy’s first broadside from an enormous distance, together with the broadsides of the first Kydan ship he had been chasing and his own Star of Ember, had taken away his foremast and stern railing and killed a good number of his crew on the main deck. The marshal had ordered sand on the blood and then the sand to be swept into the sea, but this ship did not have enough sand to absorb all the blood that would be spilled if he did not surrender. He looked astern and saw that at least two of his ships would escape. It was enough to give warning.
‘Strike our colours,’ he ordered, and waited to receive the enemy captain.
*
A day had passed since the disastrous attempt to take the ford across the Elder River and Rodin could see in the faces of his soldiers the exhaustion he felt. It was not just the heavy marching, but the constant attacks from untouchable enemies and the relentless heat as well. He had to order the pace to slow down, and swung the line closer to the river so water bottles and casks could be refilled. Although he sent a skirmishing line ahead, there was little they could do to stop the expected attack of the redjackets. His skirmishers were being slaughtered and to little effect, the enemy’s bullets could still reach his main body, so in the end he called them back and simply accepted the casualties. There was nothing he could do. His men needed water to survive long enough to get to Sayenna.
By the time they were ready to pull back from The Wash, at least putting the river between his army and any attack from the east, the light was fading. He ordered a halt to the day’s advance and consulted his chart again. So far to go. At least there were no more river crossings, which meant his left flank was safe as long as he kept some distance from it.
*
Master of Horse Ames Westaway had been trailing the enemy all day, sending his dragoons on both flanks to dismount and fire all along the columns of Hamilayan infantry. When the columns stopped for the night, he called his riders back and made sure they got their rest as well. Before dark fell,
he took the time to study the enemy positions and pondered certain possibilities.
Gos, Velan and Lannel joined him before twilight had finished. They were all dusty and weary but lightened by the success their soldiers were having against the invader, and filled with the confidence that victory brought.
‘We are slaughtering them,’ Lannel said with relish. ‘They cannot fight back, and they are exhausted.’
‘They still outnumber us three to one,’ Gos pointed out.
‘You still intend to let them reach Sayenna?’ Velan asked.
‘If they are determined to march on, and it would seem they are, we cannot stop them, but as long as Avier is doing his job I do not think Sayenna will be the refuge the Hamilayans hope.’
‘What if we can force their surrender before then?’ Ames said, speaking quietly.
The other three looked at him expectantly. ‘Go on,’ urged Gos.
Ames told them about the way he had seen the enemy lay out their camp. ‘It is cruciform, very square, very geometric, the corners of each column touching each other and forming a square in the middle where the supply wagons are kept.’
‘Just like we were taught when we were Hamilayans,’ Gos observed. ‘Each column provides the other with covering fire in the event of an attack.’
Ames paused then. He had forgotten in the heat of battle that he too had once been a Hamilayan, had worn the green jacket and fought for the empress. But now he was Kydan. He was married to a Kydan woman, owned Kydan land, had made Kydan his home, a home a distant Kevleren wanted to claim for her own.
‘What about their disposition?’ Velan asked.
‘Because it is so square it has angles, and angles are weak points.’
‘I see that,’ Velan said, ‘but if you attack the angle, then what? You are in the middle of the enemy. They turn their firegons around and decimate you at close range.’
‘Not if you ride straight through,’ Ames said. ‘You enter the centre through one angle, then ride out through the next. With cavalry it’s possible. Straight in, do your damage, straight out.’
‘To what purpose? What damage?’ Lannel Thorey asked.
‘It would demoralise the enemy even further,’ Velan said, thinking about the possibility.
Gos chuckled. ‘It would do more than that. Very good, Ames Westaway. Very good indeed.’ The other two looked at him with puzzled expressions. ‘You forget what lies in the middle of the formation, gentlemen. The enemy’s supply wagons.’
Ames nodded. ‘Especially their water casks.’
*
Arden surprised the villagers when he lurched out of his hut and stumbled towards the river. Those who had been nursing him rushed after him and tried to pull him back, but even as weak and reduced as he was, they had not the strength to stop him. They called for the men to help, but so many were away fighting that only boys and old men could come, and they were no more capable of deflecting Arden than the women.
Arden reached the Frey and without stopping walked straight into it. Water closed over his head for a moment and then he bobbed to the surface, but he did not try to swim and he soon went under again.
Two of the older boys, more enterprising than the rest, threw a net into the river and it fell around the giant man’s head and shoulders. With the aid of many others they then managed to pull him to the bank and then slowly drag him up to dry land. He was unconscious but breathing, and to some it seemed his temperature had come down and the worst of the fever had broken.
*
Heriot woke. Poloma was not lying next to her. Little Sookie was there, though. She had crawled in between them soon after dark, complaining of bad dreams.
She eased out of bed, careful not to wake her daughter, and went out to find Poloma. She found him outside the house entirely, looking west.
She put her arms around his waist.
‘What do you see?’ she asked.
‘I see the ocean, and great ships sailing on it.’
‘And what is in the great ships?’
‘Silks and spices and chests filled with treasure.’
‘And where do these great ships go?’
‘They go to Kydan, every one. But that is not all I see. There is a great land laid waste, with fallen towers and fields left fallow, and an emptiness once filled with pride and glory.’
‘That is terrible,’ Heriot said.
‘No. It is only a beginning. The people will gather and build again. There will be a new civilisation rising from the old, without darkness in its heart.’
‘And what do you see in this land?’
‘The seasons. The great dry and the great wet. And I see the rivers, the plains and the mountains, and I see Kydan in the centre of it for a long, long time.’
‘And us? My sweet Poloma, do you see us?’
36
Except to catch her usual prey, Lerena had been still in her forest all day. Listening. Watching. Waiting. She sat on her stone bench, her head slightly to one side, and wondered how it had all come to this.
Eventually Yunara joined her, aped her posture and sang songs from Lerena’s childhood.
*
Commodore Avier calmly watched the sails on his flagship, the Sorkro Malvara. They were catching small puffs of wind, but not enough to really fill them. He was not worried because he was in no hurry. He knew the winds would pick up soon, when the sun rose over the sea, and he did not want to arrive at Sayenna before first light. He objective was to destroy the remainder of the Hamilayan fleet, not accidentally bombard the town itself.
With him sailed the Prince Maddyn, the Kitayra Albyn and his own beautiful schooner the Annglaf. Only four ships, but it would be enough for this job, since the best warships in the enemy’s fleet had been taken or sunk. The gentle wake left behind by their tranquil passage through the sea shimmered with phosphorescence.
‘What do you think of them?’ he asked Captain Ainchell, waving at his ships, speaking with all the pride of a father.
‘I like the longgons,’ Ainchell said sternly. ‘I like those a lot.’
Avier sighed. ‘As marvellous as they are, you were not taken because of the longgons,’ he said patiently. ‘In the end all that matters is the ships that carry them, and the sailors that crew them.’
*
It was awake as soon as the sun was down. It was time. It stumbled out of the house, startling two passers-by, but it ignored them. The dome was ahead and it intended to reach it before the night was over.
From other houses around, however, its new family left their nests. The passers-by were not ignored for long.
*
Ames Westaway made sure he was up before anyone else. He roused his dragoons, ordered them to leave their carbines unloaded and to sharpen their sabres. Then they saddled their mounts and stood by them, holding their muzzles, waiting silently for first light.
*
Lerena screamed suddenly and stood up from the bench, her feet turning into claws. ‘It is awake! It is coming here! Now!’
‘Yes,’ Yunara said slowly, ‘I know.’
Lerena turned on her. ‘You always knew, didn’t you? You always knew this would happen. Even when I first saw the blackness, you said I had nothing to worry about. But you knew this thing was coming to Omeralt, coming to me!’
Yunara patted the bench next to her. ‘Sit down, your Majesty. You are too excited.’
‘No. I will not sit with you. I should never have listened to you, I see that now. I should never have talked with you. All the time I thought you were my friend . . .’
‘Strange, isn’t it?’ Yunara said. ‘All the time you thought I was your friend, when in fact you were my friend.’ She made a steeple out of her fingertips and framed the empress with them. ‘Our friend, I should say.’
‘Idalgo and Englay.’
‘Yes. And the other thing making its way here now. Although not in the same way, of course. It is a made thing, made by you in fact, while I am imagined by you because it plea
ses us for you to do so, just as Idalgo and Englay were imagined by Paimer and Chierma.’ She laughed like a little girl. ‘Crispy Chierma.’
‘Then if I can imagine you I can unimagine you,’ Lerena said slyly.
‘No more than you can unmake this creature. You have given us a shape to fill, nothing more, and now that we are in this shape it pleases us to continue to fill it.’
Lerena frowned. ‘What do you mean I made this creature?’
‘You remember your first attempt to kill Maddyn?’
‘On the ship.’
‘That’s right. You filled a poor innocent sailor with the Sefid and let it loose.’
Lerena was astounded. ‘They killed it, surely! Maddyn and Kadburn! When it failed to kill them they must have known what it was!’
‘Of course they did. But the crew acted first and threw it into the sea.’
‘Oh.’ A little sound, subdued, overtaken by the horrible realisation of what had happened next. ‘Yes, poor sailor. It never died. Just drowned, but never died.’
Even Yunara seemed to lose some of her glee thinking about that. ‘And now it’s coming to find you. It is drawn to you the way a moth is to light. The way a salmon is to a river.’