The Heron Kings

by Eric Lewis

  “With all respect, Majesty, I must rather doubt this. Few are pleased to be often in the presence of my kind. Especially those in most need of our services. It is a consequence to which I’ve grown accustomed.” He spoke in a lilting, relaxed singsong, visibly more at ease than the last time he’d visited. And why not? The deal was done after all, and he was only here to oversee the fulfillment. “But enough of that. I have the honor of presenting the delivery – only the first installment, mind – of the extension of Your Majesty’s line of credit. All is as you specified – gold for the big expenses, silver for the small, all unloaded in the harbor as we speak. And this I’m sure you are pleased to see.”

  The queen put a hand to her chest. “Why banker, I do believe you have…cut me to the quick, is that the expression?”

  Carthagne nodded serenely. “Perfect. But I’m sure Your Majesty will recover.” He pulled a red leatherbound folder from the billows of his clothing. “If you would be so kind as to sign the receipt….”

  Engwara snatched the packet and handed it back to a waiting attendant without bothering to inspect it. “Seal.” The attendant scampered off to find the queen’s stamp. “You’ve come openly this time, and during the day. Should I take that as a vote of confidence?”

  Carthagne shrugged. “If Your Majesty so chooses. Though we can hardly sneak a hundred boxes of money in one boat at a time under cover of night, can we? I’ve taken the liberty of marking them ‘textiles’. And I come, as you see, clad in the manner of a Cynuvik merchant. So if I’m not incognito, then at least lesscognito.” He smiled and gestured at the rich dark woolens draped about him.

  “Bit anticlimactic though, isn’t it? A signature, some boxes change hands and that’s the end of it.”

  “I must admit, I thought you’d be happier to receive these funds considering the stalemate you found yourself in during my previous visit. Has Lord Marshal Taurix fallen ill?”

  “Oh no, something quite a bit better than that. Far from ill, Marshal Taurix has in fact come quite fully to his senses – switched sides and joined our cause. He’s brought his own men, generals and many more under his vassals. Pharamund has no more allies of consequence, and final victory is now only a matter of time. The money should still help, I suppose.”

  The color drained from Carthagne’s face, and he grasped at a serpentine column for support. “W-what’s that? He’s…joined you, indeed?” He began sweating profusely, his breathing heavy and labored. “Why that – that’s very, uh, welcome news. Very, very welcome! I…I must congratulate Your Majesty on your diplomatic skills to pull off such an…unlikely feat.”

  Engwara gestured toward Vinian. “Actually it was my spymistress who engineered the stroke…Master Carthagne, are you quite all right?”

  “Must be…the weather, Majesty. No winter in the Marimines Isles you know…oh….”

  Engwara smirked just a bit at that. “I suppose it is a little chilly. Next time you visit I’ll be queen of the whole peninsula. Greater Argovan I think I’ll call it. I’ll receive you in Ólo, or somewhere else where the winds are temperate all year round.”

  “That would be…most gracious, Your Majesty.” He wiped his brow with a silk kerchief and seemed to regain some sense of control. “I look forward to it.”

  “And, I assume, to the profitable repayment of the bank’s loans well ahead of schedule,” she replied.

  “Yes. Of course. Profit flows everywhere. A…a golden age ahead. Erm, how long do you think this great victory will take…exactly?”

  “Exactly? Depends on how well my generals play together. We’re pushing up the Carsa and along the northern coast both now. By spring we should have Thoriglyn surrounded. Why?”

  “Oh, no reason. I’m sure my employers would be curious as to the timeline of this operation, for…for cash flow purposes, and the like.”

  “Really? I thought Bank Isle-Euderico didn’t give – how did you put it? – half a shit who wins our backward little war? Those were your words.”

  “Ah…forgive me, Majesty. A bit of a temper tantrum on my part if I recall. We’re taught to go rather straight for the jugular during negotiations. I’m sure a woman of the world such as yourself understands?”

  “Only too well,” she replied with a smile as false as the banker’s. The attendant returned with the folder opened to the appropriate page, a thimble of molten wax and the queen’s solid gold seal. Engwara tipped some of the green wax onto the document and made her stamp, then scribbled Engw Q across the bottom of the page. “I suppose this concludes our business for the time being.”

  “Yes Majesty but…my ship requires provisioning. Might I beg a few weeks in your marvelous harbor?”

  “If this is what you call marvelous then the Marimines Isles are far less than I’ve been led to believe. Stay as long as you like. Though I do hope your health does not suffer for the weather.”

  Carthagne again bowed as low as he could manage. “Thank you, Majesty. I’m sure I’ll muddle through…somehow.”

  After Carthagne stumbled out of the room and down the stairs in what seemed to be the onset of some kind of apoplexy, Engwara frowned and said to Vinian, “What in the name of the Chthonii was that about?”

  “I don’t know,” Vinian answered with a deeper frown, “and I don’t take well to not knowing things. Something you said frightened him. I’ll see what I can find out.”

  “No, no you have other work. Best get about it.”

  “Yes, Majesty.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Baggage

  “Draw. Aim. Loose!” Eight arrows took flight as one toward the makeshift archery butts. That was the idea anyway. Three of the shots ended up stuck in the crates twenty paces away with circles drawn on the front. The rest buried themselves in the ground beyond or, in two cases, shot clear overhead and out of sight. Corren sighed. “Well, that’s…definitely an improvement. Everyone rescue your arrows and line up again.”

  “Why do we only get one apiece?” Dannek asked. “We have hundreds now, don’t we?”

  “True. But each arrow is a precious resource, and I want you to get in the habit of treating them so. Also motivates you not to break ’em.” They scattered to obey as Ulnoth approached.

  “Target practice? Good idea.”

  “Most of these people have never held a bow before, and we can’t afford dead weight. Anyone that can’t defend themselves isn’t going to be of much use, just a mouth to feed. It’s sheer luck we don’t have any children with us.”

  “Allow me to remind you that if anyone from Wengeddy ain’t with us they likely got hacked down by your brothers in arms. Not sure I’d call that luck. Not the good kind, at least.”

  “Good point.”

  “Plus they can get some more practice right now. We spotted some kind of caravan a bit east of here. I wanna check it out.”

  “Soldiers?”

  “Can’t tell. Might be a good idea to track ’em awhile, take some folks along.”

  They were all lined up again and staring expectantly at Corren. “Now this time, make sure you get a full draw. Hold steady and follow through on your shot, like I showed. On the quiet count now, like you’re shooting from cover.” He slapped his thigh in a slow rhythm and mouthed the words: Draw…aim…loose.

  Four hits, four in the dirt. Definite improvement. “All right, go get ’em. Wait, hold a second.” He turned to Ulnoth. “Remember we agreed to no robbing civil—”

  “Right, right, agreed. Eyes only.”

  “Fine. Dannek, Emony, Allard – take a quiver each and go with Ulnoth. The rest of you, back to it!”

  Emony and Allard were twins – sister and brother about twenty years old and nearly indistinguishable but for Allard’s newly amputated pinky finger. “Are…are we going into a fight?” Emony asked nervously.

  “Nah,” said Ulnoth, “just a look-see. Good pract
ice staying out of sight though.”

  “I’m coming too.” They all turned at once to see Alessia standing before them, kitted out just as she’d been when Nan had first done her up.

  Ulnoth snorted. “Babysitting me, is that it? You still don’t trust me to keep my word.”

  “I could use the experience too. And who knows, they might have herbs or medicines we could trade for.”

  “I didn’t plan on getting close enough to hold a fair day.”

  “Then there’s nothing to argue about. Let’s go.”

  * * *

  “Not very smart,” said Ulnoth. “Who’d bring a caravan through this country now? It’s near suicide.” The five hugged the ground at the crest of a ridge, peering down onto the train of people and cargo that snaked through the narrow valley. It was a well-worn path that skirted the main highway, but if they were trying to avoid attention they weren’t doing a very good job – the noise the travelers made echoed off the steep slopes to either side.

  “Smugglers I’d wager,” said Allard. “Business doesn’t stop, even in wartime. Even opens up all kinds of opportunities for merchants – iron, Pelonan textiles, grain….”

  “How d’you know all that?”

  “Father was a mercer,” said Emony with a wistful sigh. “Mother ran the books for most of Wengeddy. The undertable market was half our business.”

  Alessia crawled up next to them, covered in dust. “These smugglers have women and children with them.”

  “Family business like any other,” said Allard. “But I don’t think this lot’s likely to have anything we’d be interested in. By the carts it looks like bulk commodities mostly.”

  “Still, not a bad business to get into,” said Ulnoth, rubbing his chin and grinning. “We could, uh, relieve them of some of it….”

  “Don’t you dare even think about—”

  “Just kidding! You’re too easy a mark, Lessi. I say we track ’em half a mile or so, make sure they don’t straggle too close to our little traveling circus.”

  “Fine. Don’t get too – wait. What’s that?”

  “What?”

  Alessia pointed toward the opposite ridge. It was a bit lower than the one they were perched on, and coming over the top they spied two, three, six, then ten figures. “That. Who…everybody else is still back at camp, right?”

  “So far as I know,” said Ulnoth.

  “Then who are they?”

  The ten men – no, it was seven men and three women, all filthy – rushed down the slope toward the caravan. Each held some kind of weapon, either blade or blunt, and when the smugglers noticed them a cacophony of frightened screams bounced off the rocks. The ten attacked both ends of the train at once to create chaos and prevent escape. A knife flashed and the screams increased.

  “Bandits,” said Dannek, “real ones.” He whipped an arrow from the quiver at his belt and reached for his bow but Ulnoth stayed his hand.

  “Whoa, hold on. Far as I know this ain’t any concern of ours.”

  “But they’ll be murdered!”

  “Seems a popular fate these days, one I ain’t keen to share. Show me a red or a green and I’m all in, otherwise no thanks.”

  “Ulnoth, we have to—” Alessia started to say but he cut her off.

  “No, we don’t. You love to remind me of our little deal, throw it in my face. Well, now it’s my turn. Anyone else can do what they want.”

  “We can’t rescue those folks without you, and you know it!”

  Ulnoth just shrugged.

  “Fine, I’ve got a new deal for you. Help us and the next batch of poison I mix up will be as strong as you like, and you can do what you want with it.”

  Ulnoth chewed his lip for a moment, thinking – or appearing to. Below them the screams continued.

  “Well?”

  “Mmm, fine. But we do this my way – no half-measures. No mercy, no prisoners. We’re outnumbered, so we hit quick and don’t stop until every last one of ’em’s dead. That means you too, sister.”

  Alessia agreed.

  “Good. Everyone up! Take two shots then move in with knives. Look crazy and they’ll scare easy. Allard, you be careful – try to only hit the bad guys.”

  They poured over the top of the ridge and tried not to stumble. Halfway down Emony stopped, notched her first arrow and took her shot. A snarling woman was about to bash a child’s head in when she jerked, dropped her club, then pitched forward. The hard thwack of the arrow piercing her rawhide vest echoed back. Dannek took another bandit in the leg and the man promptly fell to the stony ground writhing in pain.

  A few of the brigands turned to face the new intrusion as Ulnoth and Allard lined up their shots. One took a man in the stomach; the other just missed. “Damn!” Ulnoth drew another arrow but the bandits were scattering now, obviously having not expected armed resistance. “Eh, screw it.” He dropped his bow and charged in among the caravan, drawing his knife and dodging a clumsy bearded fellow’s swipe before burying his blade in the man’s side. Allard and Alessia scored one kill and two wounded between them, then they moved in also.

  Among all the panic and screaming it was hard to know who was the enemy. Dannek slashed toward a big Pelonan man who jumped out from behind a carriage with an eating knife, and through the tunnel vision and adrenaline it was two full seconds of standoff before Dannek realized the man was too clean and well-fed to be one of the bandits. “Not me, you idiot,” Dannek said between clenched teeth, “we’re here to help!” He turned and ran around the other side of the carriage without waiting for a response.

  Alessia swung her short sword wildly before her. It was surreal – once sworn never to bear arms, she now fought off a girl years younger than herself, barely more than a child. A child who’d been in the process of spitting a cart driver on a sharpened stake when Alessia attacked. The girl jumped back at the sword blows with eyes full of desperation and terror. Back, back further. She stopped. Alessia stopped swinging her sword, holding it high and ready.

  An instant later a blade erupted from the girl’s chest amid a fountain of blood. She looked down in amazement. “Oh,” she said almost casually. The girl crumpled to the ground and in her place stood Emony, white-faced, the long knife torn from her grip by the girl’s falling body.

  The whole thing was over in a matter of minutes. In the end two of the brigands escaped, four lay wounded and four dead along with three of the smugglers. Once convinced that their rescuers didn’t intend to rob them as well, they dispatched the remaining bandits with fearsome relish.

  “Thank you,” breathed one of the smugglers. “Oh merciful saints and gods, thank you! I thought we was done for. You came outta nowhere!”

  “We saw…had to help,” said Alessia. “Do you have injured?” She unslung her physic kit, which was now reassuringly crammed with supplies.

  “Aye. Who are you people? King’s rangers? Queen’s?”

  “No, just people not terribly affected to either. Show me your wounded.”

  Alessia moved up and down the caravan, tending to cuts, punctures, and broken bones. As the day waned the smugglers brought the last casualty before her – a child about six years old.

  “He was hiding,” said the little boy’s mother, tears streaking her face. “I just found…please help!” She set the boy down and Alessia gasped.

  “Oh, no….” Speared clean through his leg was an arrow – one of their own. An errant shot, maybe a ricochet, forgotten in the mad clash. There was no telling who’d loosed it.

  It could be tricky work removing a shaft. A master chirurgeon should’ve done it but it was at least a hundred miles to the nearest of those. The arrowhead had to be cut off first, then the shaft worked out little by little and bleeding kept to absolute minimum. But not too slowly, for the blood could not be allowed to clot around it. The others gathered around, helpless.
“Do you think it was me?” Allard asked. “…Do you think?” He asked it over and over, quietly. No one answered.

  Alessia pulled out her bone saw, and when he saw the sharp teeth the boy shrieked in terror. “No, it’s all right! I just have to cut the wood away. What’s your name?”

  “L-Lannie,” he whimpered.

  “Lannie, I need you to hold very still for me. Can you do that?” The boy nodded uncertainly. She’d seen Mother Tanusia do this on grown men before, and even that was hard to watch. Alessia tied a kerchief around her head to keep from dripping sweat into the wound, then prayed silently to the gods and every saint she could remember for the skill to accomplish it.

  Even with a stick between his teeth the boy screamed and had to be held down, but at last the arrow was freed. He fell into a quiet sob while she applied the poultice and bandages, and his mother thanked her ecstatically. Alessia took the severed piece of arrow and found Ulnoth sitting nearby. He’d been given or had appropriated a wine jug from among the cargo.

  “We need more target practice,” she said icily. “This is not acceptable.”

  Ulnoth sighed. “Look, this was your—”

  “I know, my idea. And I’d do it again, gods help me.” She held up the blood-soaked bit of wood between them. “Still. We need more practice.”

  * * *

  “Where were you headed?”

  “Lenocca,” replied Reynal, the leader of the smuggler band. “It’s a dangerous trip, but we had no choice. There’s no market up north, for anything. The soldiers and petty lords just take what they want and all the buyers are fled. Engwara has Lenocca, and that means a route to Carsolan, means a route to anywhere in the world. All the other ports are blocked, so….”

  “We should do that ourselves,” Ulnoth said. “Jump ship away from this cackhole.”

  The Pelonan smuggler Dannek had briefly faced off against shook his head. “Might do, but no safer than staying put.”