“And you know my name,” Hirini said, stepping into the light and sheathing his blade. “That's the real proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“That you are indeed Aldassi, and not some Domdur magician in his shape,” Hirini said.
“Since when are the Domdur magicians shapeshifters?” Aldassi asked, amused and puzzled. “Weren't the last shapeshifters put to death a thousand years ago?”
Hirini shrugged. “So they say,” he said. “But the nightwalkers were gone, and your father brought them back. We were talking the other night, and the thought came to us that perhaps the Domdur might find a way to bring back shapeshifters and infiltrate.”
Aldassi let out a bark of laughter. “You have been caged here too long,” he said. “Your thoughts are bending back on themselves and tying knots. Before long you'll be hearing voices in the wind and seeing spirits in the snow.”
“Can you swear there are no such voices and spirits?” Hirini asked sourly.
“I can swear that the wind is the wind, and the snow is the snow, just as they always are,” Aldassi replied. “Now, where is my father?”
“In his room,” Hirini answered. “Go on up.” He started to step aside, out of Aldassi's way, then paused. “You didn't bring any food, did you?”
“I could not carry much over such a distance,” Aldassi said apologetically, holding out the sack. “I have a dozen loaves of black bread and a wheel of good cheese, nothing more.”
“Cheese?” A dozen figures stirred in the gloom, suddenly interested.
“Bread and cheese, yes,” Aldassi said, pushing the bag into Hirini's arms. “Distribute this fairly, Hirini – see that those who need it most get what they need.”
“Yes, O Nazakri,” Hirini said, bowing his head as he accepted the bag.
Aldassi smiled bitterly to himself – all it really took to change Hirini's attitude from hostility and distrust to near-reverence was the promise of a meal. This northwestern winter was hard on them all. He marched past and crossed to the stairs, stepping over the legs of half a dozen people sprawled in his path.
Rebiri Nazakri had claimed the little room at the southernmost end of the upstairs passage as his own – he was the only person in the entire rebel force who had the luxury of an unshared bed; even Aldassi himself, when he was here in the winter camp, had to squeeze onto a cot with Asari Asakari.
The smell of unwashed bodies did not seem so thick once he got out of the common room and up the stairs. Aldassi marched down the corridor and rapped on the door at the end.
“Is that some accursed Domdur I hear?” Rebiri called from within – speaking Olnami, as always.
Aldassi sighed; habit had gotten the better of him, and he had forgotten that Rebiri did not approve of knocking on doors. Traditional Olnami tents did not have hard doors on which to knock; the custom was to rattle something instead.
“It's someone who has been too long among the Domdur,” Aldassi called back.
“Ah, my son! Enter!” The latch slid open, as if of its own accord – his father's magic at work.
Aldassi pushed the door open and stepped in, to find his father seated cross-legged on a velvet cushion. Bundles of tentcloth were stacked against the walls on either side, filling more than half the room; a small rug had been hung over the shuttered window to block drafts, and also shut out what little daylight might have otherwise penetrated. The narrow bed and rickety table that had been the room's original furnishings were pushed behind the door.
And until Aldassi pushed the door wide, all of this was illuminated solely by the smoky red glow of Rebiri's fire-magic crystal, giving it a hellish, unnatural appearance. Everything appeared either red or black; no other colors showed in that light.
Aldassi's own staff vibrated uncomfortably as its golden glow spilled into Rebiri's room; the two Olnami wizards bore incompatible magicks, magicks that could not be kept easily near one another.
“I bring you salt, O Nazakri,” Aldassi said in formal greeting.
“I give you water,” Rebiri replied, completing the formula. “Come in, Aldassi, come in! Tell me what you have seen!” He leaned over and pulled another cushion from one of the black tentcloth bundles and tossed it forward for Aldassi to sit on.
The younger man settled slowly onto the velvet, then placed his staff on the floor behind him, as far from his father as he could reach without rising. He looked Rebiri over, trying not to be obvious about it.
The old man seemed fit. Oh, he had lost a little weight, as had all the rebels during this bitter winter, but his eyes were bright and his hands were strong. He had tossed the cushion as casually as if it were a nutshell to be discarded.
That was good.
“It's good to see you, Father,” he said.
Rebiri smiled, then swiftly erased it, turning the corners of his mouth back down.
“Tell me where you have been, what you have seen, what you have heard,” he commanded. “I have been closed away here, and I hunger for news.”
“I have been to Seidabar, and to Drievabor, and to Agabdal,” Aldassi replied. “I dressed as a Domdur, and spoke as a Domdur, and when asked I professed myself a messenger from the Imperial College of the New Magic. None questioned me closely, and I encountered no serious difficulties nor dangers. The snowfall of two...” He paused, realizing he had started to say “two triads,” only to stumble over the lack of a word for “triad“ in formal Olnami. He had been too much among the Domdur. “Of six days ago caught me between Drievabor and Seidabar, and I took shelter in a farmhouse until it had passed. The farmers treated me kindly, and I left them unharmed.”
Rebiri nodded an acknowledgment. “The time to end our mercy to the Domdur has not yet come,” he said. “What of our supposed allies?”
“All goes well, they say,” Aldassi replied. “We have spoken at length of their plans. They know of our whereabouts here – they say this town is called Uinaguem. They will know when we move westward in the spring, just as our enemies will know, and they will begin their attacks when we begin our own. They promise us fear, confusion, and delay, O Father, and in return they ask their lives, and power as our subordinates when we rule in Seidabar.”
“Do you believe that they will deliver what they promise?”
“Perhaps not so much as they say, but I believe they will harm our foes, and hinder their army.”
“Have you promised them aught?”
“I have spoken with words as twisted as the wind through the rocks of Zedon, Father, and have promised them nothing but the defeat of their Council and the death of their Empress.”
Rebiri nodded, and smiled again, allowing this one to linger.
“Good,” he said. “And what of our foes, in Seidabar and Agabdal and Drievabor?”
“In Agabdal, the Imperial Army continues to train. Their numbers no longer grow, though the roads of the Domdur heartland have been cleared and traffic flows freely. A quarter of a million soldiers are gathered against us, perhaps more – but the supplies and weapons and transport they need to fight us are still lacking. Our allies have conspired to hide the shortages from Lord Kadan.”
Rebiri nodded again. “And Seidabar?”
“In Seidabar, all goes on as before. Nothing has altered since my last report.”
“In Drievabor?”
“The Imperial vanguard waits in Drievabor. General Balinus and half a dozen of his staff arrived there at last some twenty days ago – ”
“They got past us?” Rebiri's eyes blazed, and his staff hissed; smoke swirled upward, and the red glow brightened momentarily.
“Yes, Father.”
“How?”
Aldassi shook his head. “I don't know,” he said. “Balinus is a wily old man with many years of experience in the Govya Mountains; he undoubtedly knows tricks that we do not for traveling in snow and surviving the cold. Further, he has with him Tebas Tudan, and a woman I did not recognize who carries a New Magic staff.”
“You said half
a dozen?”
“Yes.”
“He had two or three hundred men when last we encountered him.”
“He says he sent them back east, to attempt the recapture of Ai Varach.”
Rebiri frowned. “I had not foreseen that,” he said. Then he shrugged. “It is of no consequence. Let the beast restore a talon, while we strike at the heart.”
Aldassi hesitated, then asked, “Your guiding spirit made no mention of this?”
“My guiding spirit has not spoken to me directly in half a season,” Rebiri said, without any display of concern. “I know what I must do; I need no instructions now.”
“Yes, Father.”
“We must last through this unspeakable winter,” Rebiri said. “We must survive. That's enough for now. We must remain alive until the snows melt.” He showed his teeth in something that might technically have been a smile, but which showed no trace of pleasure.
“When the snows melt, and the roads are clear,” he said, “then we will strike, and the traitors in Seidabar and Agabdal will strike with us, and if I need guidance then the spirit of my destiny shall undoubtedly provide it. Before the coming summer is out, my son, Seidabar will fall.”
Chapter Thirty-One
For a moment Prince Granzer gazed up at the clerestory windows that circled the Council Chamber's dome. The snow and ice that had obscured them from Dremeger's Triad until Orini's Triad were long gone, and the late spring sunshine of Dau's Triad poured in, golden and warm, after a winter that had lasted longer than usual. He smiled. “Is the army finally ready to march?” he demanded, turning to Lord Kadan.
“Very nearly,” Kadan replied. “However, your Highness, there is the question of where they are to march to.”
Granzer's smile vanished. “Are you joking, my lord?” he asked angrily.
“No, your Highness. I wish I were. However, I suggest you ask him.” He jerked a thumb at Apiris. “It seems the Archpriest has received word that the rebels have turned aside.”
A stir ran through the room, and all eyes fell on the Archpriest.
“Indeed, your Highness,” Apiris said, unruffled. “That is what the magicians report.”
“Which magicians?” Granzer asked sourly.
Apiris blinked. “I received word from our Holy College of Magicians this morning. I believe the magician who made the contact was Rezho – a very reliable young man.”
Granzer stared at him. Apiris seemed completely unaware of the significance of any of this; he was carrying out his job, and the fact that the fate of the Domdur Empire might well depend on getting the Imperial Army to the right place at the right time, and that his report on what the magicians said would directly affect whether or not this was done, didn't seem to have registered. Was the man really so narrow-minded and unimaginative as all that?
“Where did this Rezho hear this?” Granzer demanded.
“I'm afraid I don't know the names of everyone involved, your Highness,” Apiris said, struggling unsuccessfully to hide his surprise and hurt at the tone of the questioning. “This was in the daily report from Drievabor. The New Magicians conduct regular reconnaissance, flying out as close as they dare to the enemy – except when storms prevented it, they've done the same all through the winter, under the direction of Vrai Burrai of the Imperial College and a Diknoi magician named Tebas Tudan who arrived there with General Balinus back in Gol's Triad. It's all in the reports...”
“I've read your blasted reports,” Granzer growled. “For triad after triad...” He shifted to a high-pitched mockery of Apiris' voice, “No enemy movement was seen.” He dropped back to his normal register. “The roads have been clear for triads, but they still just sat there in Uinaguem, according to your magicians. Except for the past two days they have been moving. Along the Gogror Highway, straight toward Seidabar.”
“Yes, well, last night they left the highway and veered well to the north,” Apiris said. “It's in today's report.” He held up a sheaf of parchment.
“Which Lord Kadan evidently received before I did.”
Apiris shrugged. “I sent your copy at the usual time, your Highness.” He obviously felt that he had done his duty by following the usual routine, and it was no fault of his if no one had pointed out the matter's urgency to Prince Granzer.
“Hmph.” Granzer let the matter drop, and turned back to Kadan. “What do you see as the significance of this change in the rebels' course?”
“I can't explain it, your Highness,” Kadan replied. “My best guess is that they somehow received word of our plans, and decided to cross the Grebiguata somewhere else.”
“Ah. And just how do they expect to do that? The bridge at Drievabor is the only bridge between Varnor and Diesdenza – are they going to spend the summer marching to Varnor?”
Kadan shook his head. “According to the priests, they're not heading for Varnor, nor any other known crossing.”
“Then what are they doing?” Granzer demanded, exasperated.
“I have no idea, your Highness. My best guess would be that they believe they can cross the river without a bridge – perhaps they plan to build their own bridge, or make boats, or even tunnel underneath. Perhaps this black wizard can part the waters and let them simply walk across.”
Granzer frowned at Kadan – not because he suspected that the Commissioner of the Army was being sarcastic or deliberately uncooperative, but because there was an uncomfortable truth in his words. They knew so little of Rebiri Nazakri's capabilities!
Not everyone interpreted either Kadan's words or Granzer's expression that way. “Show some respect, Kadan,” Lord Shoule hissed from two seats over.
Lord Kadan glanced at Shoule, but said nothing.
“So what should we do?” Lady Dalbisha asked, looking back and forth between Granzer and Kadan.
“That's a very good question, my lady,” Lord Kadan replied.
“Do you have an answer, my lord?” Granzer asked angrily. He knew that he was being unfair to Kadan, but he needed to vent his frustration somehow, and Kadan could handle it. “If I understand you correctly, the rebels will reach the river in another two triads. Do you propose to let them cross unopposed?”
“I am at a disadvantage, your Highness, in being unable to guess how they intend to cross at all.”
“So will you just sit there and do nothing?”
“Oh, by no means. I have every intention of ordering the vanguard currently stationed in Drievabor to move wherever may be necessary to keep the enemy from crossing the Grebiguata. However, right now I don't know where that will be, nor do I have a firm plan as to exactly how the enemy is to be defeated. Had they crossed at Drievabor, as we had anticipated, it would have been simple enough – the vanguard was to hold them at the bridge until the main body could arrive, then allow them across into an ambush. The Imperial Army would be arrayed along either side of the Gogror Highway, using the buildings of Drievabor for shelter and concealment, and when the enemy attempted to pass through the town and the country beyond they could be slaughtered easily.”
“But the Imperial Army is still in the Agabdal camps,” Lady Luzla pointed out.
“True enough,” Lord Kadan admitted. “I concede that that's a disappointment, and they should have been prepared sooner. We have had unexpected problems in logistics. I accept responsibility for these delays – assembling and supplying an army this size has been far more difficult than I anticipated, and that failure in foresight should not have happened. But still, the problems have been dealt with, and the main body should be ready to march in a triad or less. Despite our much greater numbers I believe our forces will be able to move much more quickly than the rebels. Because they rely on nightwalkers the enemy must travel by night, and without so exhausting their human troops that they're unfit to stand guard over the nightwalkers by day; that limits them. They're lucky to cover twelve miles in a day, while we should be able to make twenty on good roads – and the Gogror Highway is a good road. We expected the enemy to reac
h Drievabor in another five or six days, and our own main body to arrive six or seven days later; the vanguard would be expected to hold the foe off for that interim. If they found themselves incapable of doing so, they were to destroy the bridge –”
Lady Mirashan, the Minister of Trade, let out a yelp of startled displeasure. Lord Kadan paused long enough to glance at her, then continued, “Even if the vanguard were destroyed, which I thought extremely unlikely, the Imperial army would still be between Seidabar and the foe, and able to maneuver freely to block any attempt to bypass them.”
Lord Graush spoke up.
“Maneuver freely, you say.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“You have half a million men in those camps, don't you?”
“Three hundred thousand infantry and at least a hundred thousand men and women in auxiliary and support roles, yes,” Kadan agreed.
“Half a million people can't maneuver freely anywhere,” Graush said. “It's too damn many. They'll trip over each other. How many men has the Olnamian got?”
“Perhaps twelve to fifteen thousand,” Kadan said. “But most of them are nightwalkers.”
“Nightwalkers or not, we outnumber them twenty to one!” Lord Sulibai declared. “Isn't that a bit excessive? Wouldn't it be wiser to field a smaller, more efficient force?”
“Rebiri Nazakri reportedly took Ai Varach, a major fortress, with three or four hundred nightwalkers,” Kadan pointed out. “If I am to err, I prefer to err on the side of caution.”
“This is all off the subject,” Granzer said. “The point is that Lord Kadan's plans no longer apply, as the enemy is not doing what we expected. We therefore need new plans, immediately.”
“If I may, your Highness...” Lord Kadan said.
“By all means, my lord.”
Kadan rose from his chair and addressed the Council.
“My lords and ladies,” he said. “While it's true that we do not know what the enemy intends, he has said that his goal is nothing less than the destruction of Seidabar. I think we do well to believe he means exactly that. So long as we prevent his forces from approaching the city, we cannot fail. I propose to order General Balinus and the Imperial vanguard to use their magical scouts to keep close track of the foe, and to move along the western bank of the Grebiguata to confront the enemy wherever he might attempt a crossing, by any means whatsoever. We will move the bulk of our forces out to the general vicinity, sending reinforcements to the vanguard as necessary and forming a barrier on the path to Seidabar. When and if the enemy succeeds in crossing the Grebiguata, the main body shall sweep down upon him in full force, and obliterate him through sheer strength of numbers.”
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