by Tim Stead
“I do,” Skal said, admiring his arms. “With this armour and these weapons a man, or a Farheim, could defeat an army.”
“I believe that is the point,” Bane said.
Skal stopped admiring himself and became suddenly serious.
“He wants us to defeat Alwain – just the two of us?”
“Cain and Caster will be similarly equipped,” Bane said.
Four men against an army of thousands. Was that possible, even with such armour, such weapons, such men? Enali looked at Skal to see what he thought of it, and apparently he had no doubt.
“That’s a prodigious amount of killing for each man,” he said.
“You only have to kill one man,” Bane said.
“Alwain? True enough, I suppose, but there’ll be walls of flesh about him that must be breached. I doubt they’ll stand aside.”
“There was a time when that wouldn’t have troubled you,” Bane said.
“Maybe,” Skal said. “But what’s the point of a long life if you don’t learn from it? Besides, these men are Avilian.”
Bane didn’t say anything. He waited. Skal walked a few steps, turned his back on them and looked out at the plains that stretched away to the east. He stood there for a full minute.
“Pascha doesn’t know he’s doing this, does she?”
“No.”
“And this will change everything. For ever.”
“It will.”
“This can’t be my decision, Bane. It’s too much. What’s happened? Why is Narak doing this?”
Bane shifted his weight on his massive legs. If he had not been a dragon, Enali would have said he was uncomfortable with the question.
“It is not possible to answer your question, but I will tell you this. Narak has recently discovered that he can also be a dragon. It has changed his perspective. This was not unexpected.”
Skal turned back and looked at the dragon, or so it seemed. Enali couldn’t see his face behind that glittering mask.
“Damn it, Bane. I cannot refuse,” Skal said. “Narak has saved us all a hundred times. Without him neither Avilian nor Telas would exist. Armour or no, I will do what he asks, but it will take me days to get to Fane, and I fear I may be too late.”
“No,” Bane said. “I will carry you.”
“You’ll carry me?”
It was as much of a surprise to Enali. She’d been carried by a dragon because Narak had asked it, but only for a short distance, and that had been a vanishingly rare event. She knew Callista had been carried, and of course Narak, but she’d never heard of it happening to anyone else.
“As you say,” Bane said, “Narak has saved us all. Who am I to refuse?”
93 Another Wall
It was the same, but different. Cain watched Alwain’s army arrive. It was the same because he was behind a wall, happily ensconced in a defensive position, and because he was outnumbered. It was different because of everything else. He had food for less than a week, no civilian population to worry about, nor hope that help would soon arrive.
There was no way he could see surprise in them. They had scouts, of course. He’d seen their dust trails more than an hour before the body of the army arrived, but he’d liked to have seen Alwain’s face when he heard there was a wall where no wall should be.
What he didn’t know was what Alwain would do. The man’s instinct would be to attack, but he’d need ladders and even then, his chances would be no better than at Bas Erinor. It would be days before he could mount an assault. That should be enough.
“I’ll bet he’s spitting blood.”
Caster stepped up beside him, grinning. For once the sword-master wasn’t wearing his plate armour. He looked dressed for a summer ball, with the exception of the swords strapped to his back. In a hundred years Cain had never seen Caster without his blades.
“Maybe this will convince him to give up,” Cain said. It wouldn’t, of course. This was a fight to the death.
“Not a chance,” Caster said. “He still thinks he can win.”
He can, too. Cain knew that Jerac was desperately short of cavalry and that Alwain had a great many mounted men. If they clashed in the open it would go badly for the peasant army. It was about timing. Cain would have to abandon his wall even as Alwain turned on Jerac. If Alwain’s cavalry went after Jerac’s infantry then Cain’s would destroy Alwain’s. It was a bloody equation. If he got it wrong Alwain could still win.
He looked out at the army again. They were moving south still, so they would not be setting their camp on the road, nor on the wet land by the river. Alwain was cutting himself off from water, but why should he care about that? The river was outside the wall. He only had to send a suitably escorted wagon to retrieve barrels of water. The position he’d chosen was better from a strategic point of view.
Nevertheless, if Jerac was coming down the road behind him it was a mistake. But Alwain didn’t know that. As far as he knew the road was blocked.
Cain spent the rest of the day on the wall. Catto brought him food from time to time and Spans stood just behind him like a piece of comforting masonry. He watched Alwain’s men, noting everything he could see – the position of the Duke’s tent, the wagons, the strings of horses, the guard posts, where the men came and went.
As evening approached, a group of riders left the tent and rode towards Cain. There were about twelve of them, bearing a flag of truce. Cain’s men packed the walls around the gate, but there was no real threat. They stopped within bowshot a score of yards from the gate. Alwain wasn’t among them, but Cain recognised Haliman. Alwain’s colonel was examining the wall and the gate for weaknesses.
“What do you want, Colonel?” he called down.
“The Duke asks that you surrender your arms and join with him in putting down the rebellion,” Haliman said.
Cain laughed. “The King recognises only one rebellion, Haliman. You’re it. What do you think of our new wall?”
Haliman nodded. “Better than those wire and rock things you used to build. I dare say you had a little help.”
“And if we did, how does that make you feel, Haliman?”
“No different. I serve the Duke…”
“I am the Duke, Haliman. You know you’re going to lose. Your men are going to die. Why do you persist in supporting that arrogant wastrel? Do the right thing. Fight for me, your rightful lord.”
“We outnumber you, My Lord,” Haliman said. “The matter is not beyond doubt.”
“Is it not? Look at these walls and tell me so. Tell me you are on the right side of this.”
“A man of honour can only serve his lord,” Haliman said. “And to the best of his ability.”
“You’re wrong,” Cain said. “There are higher causes than a man, even if he was good to you, even if he raised you up.”
“Well, there we must disagree, My Lord,” Haliman said. “I assume you are denying my Lord’s petition?”
“I am.”
“Then I shall see you again when swords are drawn.” Haliman saluted and turned.
“Better that you don’t, Colonel,” Cain said, but probably not loud enough that Haliman heard it.
The exchange put him in a poor mood. He’d hoped for more from Haliman, some flaw in his resolve, perhaps, but he’d found none. Now it would all be killing.
But not today.
He abandoned the wall to his guards and made his way back to his tent. Sheyani was waiting for him, reading a book by a small fire just outside. She looked at his face.
“Bad?” she asked.
“Haliman came to the gate. He’s a fool. We’re going to have to fight every inch of this.”
Sheyani gestured at the tent with her head. “She’s waiting to speak to you. News, I think.”
Cain ducked inside to find Pascha sitting on a chair looking bored. “You have news?” he asked.
She poured herself a drink, taking her time. She tasted it.
“Yes. Fane has passed The Pinch and is making good speed. H
e’ll be here in two days.”
“Good news,” Cain said. “Alwain won’t be in any state to mount an attack for at least three.”
“So you’re just going to wait?”
“Of course. The purpose of a wall it to make the enemy come to you. It doubles the effectiveness of your men. If I did anything else it would be unusual. Besides, I have to wait and see what Jerac does when he gets here.”
“You trust him to make the right move?”
“I trust him not to do something stupid. He’s done this before and he knows his job is to turn Alwain so he will be caught between us. He’ll think of something.”
“I expected more of a plan,” Pascha said.
“Wait, watch and be ready. That’s my plan. When the opportunity comes, I’ll see it.”
*
That night Cain awoke in darkness. It wasn’t the usual, groggy skimming of consciousness, but more like a lamp being lit in his head. He was suddenly wide awake, as though someone had shouted his name. Sheyani was asleep next to him, so he pulled a cloak around his shoulders and slipped outside.
Cain liked the night. He was especially fond of nights like this when the sky blazed with stars. He stood looking up for a moment, smelling woodsmoke, thinking about the coming fight.
Something very large passed between his eyes and the stars.
Dragon.
It was low, coming in to land by the castle, at a guess. He hurried that way. By the time he got there about two hundred men were already gathered about the huge creature.
It was Bane, and Bane had a rider. It was in the shape of a man, but apart from that it seemed quite inhuman, almost like the dragon avatars Narak had talked about. It slipped from the dragon’s back and strode towards him, carrying two sacks. It had obviously been waiting for him to appear. It deposited the sacks on the ground and reached up, pulling off its head, but the head was a helmet, and under that a familiar face.
“Skal!”
“I bring gifts,” Skal said. He threw his arms around Cain, hugging him like a brother. “Gods, but it’s good to see you again. How goes it?”
“Well enough. Better now. Did you see our wall? Are you here to fight?”
“The wall. Yes. How?”
“Pascha.”
“I’d never have thought it,” Skal said. “Did you ask for it?”
“She offered, but are you here to fight?”
Skal shook his head. “My place is with Jerac.” He slapped the armour on his chest. “The sacks, they contain armour like this. Better than anything you’ve ever seen, it’s a gift from Narak. There’s one suit for you, one for Caster.”
“That’s armour? It moves like skin.”
“It’s better than armour. It weighs almost nothing and you can see through it from the inside, and it makes you stronger. But enough of that. There is a plan.”
“Tell me.”
“When Jerac and I arrive, we attack. He has some plan, but the essence is simple. His men hold a position, yours hold this. The four of us attack from different points. We go for Alwain. When we kill him, the war is over.”
“Four men against an army?”
“Four Farheim in magical armour – hardly men, Cain. Try it on. You’ll see. The plan will work.”
Cain was prepared to believe him, but that wasn’t the problem. He’d killed men in the past and would do so again. He was a soldier and despite all the mercy and cleverness in the world a soldier still fought and killed. But this would be butchery. It would be like the Wolf at Afael five centuries ago. They would have to kill thousands to get at Alwain. The rebel duke would make sure of it. Cain didn’t want that much blood on his conscience. Skal could read him well enough, it seemed.
“It’s a good plan,” he said. “If we clash with our armies more will die. This way we spare our own people.”
He saw that. In a way it was a sacrifice. He’d kill a thousand men so that a thousand others could live. Militarily it was a good plan. Economical with life. He’d always tried to be that. But it was the precise opposite of what Pascha wanted. The gods would intervene and decide the fate of Avilian, and men would learn that they could not stand against the might of Col Boran. They would have no part in the battle.
“They need to be part of it, Skal,” he said. “They have to believe they at least helped.”
Skal shrugged. “I thought you’d want to spare them, but do what you want. It’ll be Farheim that win this fight.”
Cain grinned back at him. “Only if they let us, Skal. It’s one thing I’ve learned. No matter how high you rise, how powerful you think you are, there’s always someone can put you down.”
“Perhaps,” Skal said. “But it comforts me that I can count them on the fingers of one hand.”
“I think your ride is getting impatient,” Cain said. Bane was starting to show his teeth to the crowd of curious soldiers.
“I’m gone then,” Skal said. “I’ll see you when swords are drawn.” He turned and made the dragon’s back in three bounds. Bane raised his wings and hurled himself into the air, scattering the soldiers who had drawn too close. In moments he had vanished into the night sky.
Cain looked up at the stars for a moment, then down at the sacks at his feet. Magical armour. He lifted one of the sacks and found it light as a feather, as though it was filled with congealed air. He’d give one to Caster. Caster would love it. He turned to go and found Pascha standing behind him.
“May I see it?” she asked.
Cain offered her one of the sacks. Really, he had no choice. She took it and set it on the ground, untied the neck. She pulled out a piece of armour – something for the forearm, a vambrace, by the shape of it. It had no laces, no fastenings of any kind.
“Give me your arm,” she said. Cain held it out and she wrapped the thing around his flesh. It changed shape. He bunched his fist and saw the armour flex. Just like skin. “I don’t understand how he did this,” Pascha said. “Or why. Take it off.”
Cain tugged at the material. It slipped off easily and felt more like leather in his hand. “Amazing,” he said.
“I didn’t think he’d do this,” Pascha said. “I didn’t know he could. And he’s picked a side.”
“Eran, he picked a side when he chose to defend the King. He picked the right side. Alwain can’t win. He doesn’t deserve to win.”
“It should be decided by mortal men, Cain,” Pascha said. She sounded tired. “Now we have three wars, like layers on top of each other, all bleeding into one. It won’t end until one of us is dead. Don’t you see? This battle doesn’t matter. However many men die here, they die for nothing. Alwain isn’t the enemy.”
One of us. She was talking about the other god-mage, the one who’d sent Farheim against them, had blocked the road north and turned Alwain back.
“We can only do what is in our power to do, Eran,” Cain said. “It is wrong for us to do less and impossible to do more.”
A smile flashed across Pascha’s face. “Sheyani’s made you wise,” she said. “But it’s knowing what to do that’s hard, and you’ve always been good at that. If you were me, Cain, what would you do?”
“To fight a god-mage?” He shrugged. “I don’t know the limits of your power, or his. Find him and kill him? Build a coalition against him? Can the dragons help? Narak? I don’t know.”
Pascha sighed. “I should have kept you all closer,” she said. “But we’ll see what happens when Jerac gets here. I can’t imagine my enemy will just stand aside and let things happen. I have to be ready.”
“We must all be ready,” Cain said.
She nodded. “Give the armour to Caster. Make your plans. Do the right thing. I will be here if I am needed.” She turned and walked away. Cain was left with a feeling of insignificance, as though nothing he did mattered a jot. But he knew better than that. The world is made up of a million lives and every one can be better or worse. That was how Cain understood things. People’s lives would be better if Alwain died. It was that simp
le.
94 By Night
He had all night, but Fane wasn’t taking any chances. His men were on cold rations, no fires, no lamps. His scouts had been watching Alwain’s camp all day and, as far as he could tell, they hadn’t been spotted. Skal had re-joined them just after sunset and Fane had immediately given the order to move.
Alwain’s army was camped a half mile east of Fetherhill. To the west of the castle, and its new wall, lay the river bend that Fane coveted. He knew it well from the time they’d built the army here. It was hardly a defensive position, but given his options it was the best he could do, and with Narak’s gift it would suffice.
He’d laid down the law, and the law was silence. Every man had been told to muffle his gear. Things that might clank or ring were wrapped in cloth. Horses hooves were wrapped. He had abandoned the wagons because he could not quiet them, and their load was being carried piecemeal by the cavalry, who led rather than rode their mounts.
They moved west as soon as they were clear of the hills, following the bottom of the slope for a mile or so before turning south. The river – not an especially important one, Fane didn’t know what it was called – meandered across the Berashi border and gradually bent its path southward towards the sea. It was at this point that its broad, shallow valley finally surrendered to the Avilian lowlands.
The vanguard found the river and crossed it, following the far bank until they came to the broad, marshy loop that Fane desired. There was still no sign that anyone was aware of them.
Fane had briefed all his commanders on their positions and duties and now he walked the bank, making sure that everyone was in the right place and encouraging them as they built their concealment.
He found Lord Redcliffe and Colonel Tamarak with their horses. The animals had been relieved of their loads and were now being fed and watered.
“All’s well?” he asked.
“Perfect,” Redcliffe replied. “Looking forward to the morning.”
“Remember, My Lord, it’s just a provocation. Hit and run. We want you back here intact.”