Rivan Codex Series

by Eddings, David

  "We'll go on to the Algarian Stronghold," King Rhodar decided as the army poured down out of the last pass and fanned out across the rolling grasslands. "We need to regroup a bit, and I don't see any point in moving to the base of the escarpment until the engineers are ready for us. Besides, I'd prefer not to announce the size of our army to any Thull who happens to glance down from the top of the cliff."

  And so, in easy stages, the army marched across Algaria, trampling a mile-wide swath through the tall grass. Vast herds of cattle paused briefly in their grazing to watch with mild-eyed astonishment as the horde marched by, then returned to their feeding under the protective watch of mounted Algar clansmen.

  The encampment that was set up around the towering Stronghold in south central Algaria stretched for miles, and the watch fires at night seemed almost a reflection of the stars. Once she was comfortably quartered in the Stronghold, Princess Ce'Nedra found herself even more removed from the day-to-day command of her troops. Her hours seemed filled with tedium. This is not to say that she did not receive reports. A rigorous schedule of training was instituted, in part because large portions of the army were not professional soldiers, but primarily to avoid the idleness that led to discipline problems. Each morning, Colonel Brendig, the sober-faced Sendarian baronet who seemed utterly devoid of humor, reported the progress of the previous day's training with excruciating thoroughness, along with all sorts of other tedious little details - most of which Ce'Nedra found extremely distasteful.

  One morning after Brendig had respectfully withdrawn, Ce'Nedra finally exploded. "If he mentions the word 'sanitation' one more time, I think I'll scream," she declared to Adara and Polgara. The princess was pacing up and down, flinging her arms in the air in exasperation.

  "It is fairly important in an army of this size, Ce'Nedra," Adara calmly pointed out.

  "But does he have to talk about it all the time? It's a disgusting subject."

  Polgara, who had been patiently teaching the little blond waif, Errand, how to lace up his boots, looked up, assessed Ce'Nedra's mood in a single glance, and then made a suggestion. "Why don't you young ladies take some horses and go for a ride? A bit of fresh air and exercise seems definitely to be in order."

  It took only a short while for them to find the blond Mimbrate girl, Ariana. They knew exactly where to look. It took a bit longer, however, to wrench her away from her rapt contemplation of Lelldorin of Wildantor. Lelldorin, with the aid of his cousin Torasin, was struggling to teach a group of Arendish serfs the basics of archery. Torasin, a fiery young Asturian patriot, had joined the army late. There had been, Ce'Nedra gathered, some unpleasantness between two young men, but the prospect of war and glory had finally been too much for Torasin to resist. He had overtaken the army in the western foothills of Ulgoland, mounted on a horse half dead from hard riding. His reconciliation with Lelldorin had been emotional, and now the two were closer than ever. Ariana, however, watched only Lelldorin. Her eyes glowed as she gazed at him with an adoration so totally mindless that it was frightening.

  The three girls, dressed in soft leather Algar riding clothes, cantered out through the encampment in bright midmorning sunlight, followed inevitably by Olban, youngest son of the Rivan Warder, and a detachment of guards. Ce'Nedra did not know exactly what to make of Olban. Since a hidden Murgo had made an attempt on her life in the Arendish forest, the young Rivan had appointed himself the chief of her personal bodyguards, and absolutely nothing could move him to abandon that duty. For some reason, he seemed almost grateful for the opportunity to serve, and Ce'Nedra was glumly certain that only physical force could make him stop.

  It was a warm, cloudless day, and the blue sky stretched over the incredible expanse of the Algarian plain, where tall grass bent before a vagrant breeze. Once they were out of sight of the encampment, Ce'Nedra's spirits rose enormously. She rode the white horse King Cho-Hag had given her, a patient, even-tempered animal she had named Noble. Noble was probably not a good name for him, since he was a lazy horse. A great part of his placidity arose from the fact that his new owner was so tiny that she had virtually no weight. Moreover, in an excess of affection, Ce'Nedra babied him outrageously, slipping apples and bits of sweets to him whenever possible. As a result of his light exercise and rich diet, Noble was developing a noticeable portliness.

  In the company of her two friends, and trailed by the watchful young Olban, the princess, mounted on her stout white horse, rode out across the grassland, exulting in the sense of freedom their ride brought to her.

  They reined in at the base of a long, sloping hih to rest their mounts. Noble, pumping like a bellows, cast a reproachful look over his shoulder at his tiny mistress, but she heartlessly ignored his unspoken complaint. "It's an absolutely wonderful day for a ride," she exclamed enthusiastically.

  Ariana sighed.

  Ce'Nedra laughed at her. "Oh, come now, it's not as if Lelldorin were going someplace, Ariana, and it's good for men to miss us a little once in a while."

  Ariana smiled rather wanly, then sighed again.

  "Perhaps it's not as good for us to miss them, however," Adara murmured without any trace of a smile.

  "What is that lovely fragrance?" Ce'Nedra asked suddenly.

  Adam lifted her porcelain face to sniff at the light breeze, then suddenly looked around as if trying to pinpoint their exact location. "Come with me," she said with an uncharacteristic note of command in her voice, and she led them around the base of the hill to the far side. About halfway up the grassy slope there was a patch of law, dark green bushes covered with pale lavender flowers. There had been that morning a hatch of blue butterflies, and the winged creatures hovered in an eostatic cloud over the flowers. Without pausing, Adara pressed her mount up the slope and swung down from her saddle. There with a low cry she knelt almost reverently, gathering the bushes in her arms as if embracing them.

  When Ce'Nedra drew closer, she was amazed to see tears welling up in her gentle friend's gray eyes, although Adara was actually smifing. "Whatever is wrong, Adara?" she asked.

  "They're my flowers," Adara replied in a vibrant voice. "I didn't realize that they'd grow and spread this way."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Garion created this flower last winter just for me. There was only one - just one. I saw it come into existence right there in his hand. I'd forgotten it until just now. Look how far it's spread in just one season."

  Ce'Nedra felt a sudden pang of jealousy. Garion had never created a flower for her. She bent and pulled one of the lavender blooms from a bush, tugging perhaps just a bit harder than necessary. "It's lopsided," she sniffed, looking at the flower critically. Then she bit her lip, wishing she hadn't said that.

  Adara gave her a quick look of protest.

  "I'm only teasing, Adara," Ce'Nedra said quickly with a false little laugh. In spite of herself, still wanting to find something else wrong with the flower, she bent her face to the small, crooked blossom in her hand. Its fragrance seemed to erase all of her cares and to lift her spirits tremendously.

  Ariana had also dismounted, and she too was breathing in the gentle odor of the flowers, although there was a slight frown on her face. "Might I gather some few of thy blossoms, Lady Adara?" she inquired. "Methinks they have some strange property concealed within their blushing petals that may be of some interest to Lady Polgara - some healing agent too subtle for my limited familiarity with unguents and aromatic herbs to discern."

  Rather predictably, Ce'Nedra, having gone one way, suddenly reversed herself. "Marvelous!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands with delight. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if your flower turned out to be a great medicine, Adara? Some miraculous cure? We could call it 'Adara's rose,' and sick men would bless your name forever."

  "It doesn't exactly look like a rose, Ce'Nedra," Adara pointed out.

  "Nonsense," Ce'Nedra brushed the distinction aside. "I'm supposed to be a queen, after all, so if I say it's a rose, then it's a rose, and that's that. We'll take
the flowers back to Lady Polgara at once." She turned back to her tubby horse, who was lazily regarding the flowers as if wondering whether or not to eat a few of them. "Come, Noble," the princess said to him with extravagant overstatement. "We'll gallop back to the Stronghold."

  Noble winced visibly at the word "gallop."

  Polgara examined the flowers carefully, but, to the disappointment of the princess and her friends, she would not commit herself immediately concerning their medicinal value. A bit subdued, the little princess returned quietly to her quarters and her duties.

  Colonel Brendig was awaiting her. Upon reflection, Ce'Nedra concluded that Colonel Brendig was by far the most practical man she had ever met. No detail was too small for him. In a lesser man, such concern with little things might have been passed off as mere fussiness, but the colonel's belief that big things were made up of little things gave his patient attention to detail a certain dignity. He seemed to be everywhere in the camp; in his wake, tent-ropes were tightened, cluttered heaps of equipment were arranged into neat stacks, and casually open doublets were quickly buttoned up.

  "I hope that her Majesty found her ride refreshing," the colonel said politely, bowing as Ce'Nedra entered the room.

  "Thank you, Colonel Brendig," the princess replied. "My majesty did." She was in a whimsical frame of mind, and it was always a delight to tease this sober-faced Sendar.

  A brief smile touched Brendig's lips, and then he immediately got down to the business of the midday report. "I'm pleased to advise your majesty that the Drasnian engineers have nearly completed the hoists atop the escarpment," he reported. "All that remains is the rigging of the counterweights which will help to lift the Cherek warships."

  "That's nice," Ce'Nedra said with the vacant, empty-headed smile she knew drove him absolutely wild.

  Brendig's jaw tightened slightly, but his face betrayed no other sign of his momentary flash of irritation. "The Chereks are beginning to remove the masts and rigging from their ships in preparation for the portage," he continued, "and the fortified positions up on top of the escarpment are several days ahead of schedule."

  "How wonderful!" Ce'Nedra exclaimed, clapping her hands with a great show of girlish delight.

  "Your Majesty, please, " Brendig complained.

  "I'm sorry, Colonel Brendig," Ce'Nedra apologized, affectionately patting his hand. "For some reason you bring out the very worst in me. Don't you ever smile?"

  He looked at her with an absolutely straight face. "I am smiling, your Majesty," he said. "Oh - you have a visitor from Tolnedra."

  "A visitor? Who?"

  "A General Varana, the Duke of Anadile."

  "Varana? Here? What on earth is he doing in Algaria? Is he alone?"

  "There are a number of other Tolnedran gentlemen with him," Brendig replied. "They aren't in uniform, but they have the general bearing of military men. They say that they're here as private observers. General Varana expressed a desire to pay his respects whenever it might be convenient."

  "Of course, Colonel Brendig," Ce'Nedra said with an enthusiasm that was no longer feigned. "Please send for him at once."

  Ce'Nedra had known General Varana since her earliest childhood. He was a stocky man with graying, curly hair and a stiff left knee that gave him a noticeable limp. He was blessed with that wry, understated sense of humor so characteristic of the Anadilian family. Of all the noble houses of Tolnedra, the Borunes were most comfortable with the Anadiles. Both families were southern, for one thing, and the Anadiles usually sided with the Borunes in disputes with the powerful families of the north. Although Anadile was only a duchy, there had never been any hint of subservience in the family's alliances with the Grand Dukes of the House of Borune. Indeed, Anadilian dukes, more often than not, poked gentle fun at their more powerful neighbors. Serious historians and statesmen had long considered it a misfortune for the Empire that the talented House of Anadile had not enough wealth to make a serious bid for the Imperial Throne.

  When General Varana politely limped into the room where Ce'Nedra impatiently awaited him, there was a faint smile hovering on his lips and a quizzical lift to one of his eyebrows. "Your Majesty," he greeted her with a bow,

  "Uncle Varana," the princess exclaimed, flying to embrace him. Varana was not, in fact, her uncle, but she had always thought of him as such.

  "What have you gone and done now, my little Ce'Nedra?" He laughed, enfolding her in his thick-muscled arms. "You're turning the world upside-down, you know. What's a Borune doing in the middle of Algaria with an Alorn army at her back?"

  "I'm going to invade Mishrak ac Thull," she declared impishly.

  "Really? Whatever for? Did King Gethell of Thulldom insult the House of Borune in some way? I hadn't heard about it."

  "It's an Alorn matter," Ce'Nedra replied airily.

  "Oh, I see. That explains it, I suppose. Alorns don't need reasons for the things they do."

  "You're laughing at me," she accused him.

  "Of course I am, Ce'Nedra. The Anadiles have been laughing at the Borunes for thousands of years."

  She pouted. "It's very serious, Uncle Varana."

  "Naturally it is," he agreed, gently touching her out-thrust lower lip with one thick finger, "but that's no reason not to laugh about it."

  "You're impossible," Ce'Nedra said helplessly, laughing in spite of herself. "What are you doing here?"

  "Observing," he told her. "Generals do that a lot. You've got the only war that's going on just now, so several of us thought we'd drop by and have a look. Morin suggested it."

  "My father's chamberlain?"

  "I think that's his function, yes."

  "Morin wouldn't do that - not on his own."

  "Really? What astonishing news."

  Ce'Nedra frowned, nibbling absently at a lock of her hair. Varana reached out and took the lock out from between her teeth. "Morin doesn't do anything unless my father tells him to," Ce'Nedra mused, once again lifting the curl to her lips.

  Varana took the lock out of her fingers again.

  "Don't do that," she told him.

  "Why not? That's the way I broke you of sucking your thumb."

  "This is different. I'm thinking."

  "Think with your mouth closed."

  "This was my father's idea, wasn't it?"

  "I wouldn't presume to say I knew the Emperor's mind," he replied.

  "Well, I would. What's that old fox up to?"

  "That's hardly respectful, child."

  "You say you're here to observe?''

  He nodded.

  "And perhaps make a few suggestions?"

  He shrugged. "If anyone cares to listen. I'm not here officially, you understand. Imperial policy forbids that. Your claim to the Riven throne is not formally recognized in Tol Honeth."

  She cast a sidelong glance at him through her thick eyelashes. "These suggestions you might make - if you happened to be near a Tolnedran legion that seemed to need a bit of direction, is it at all possible that one of these suggestions might be 'forward march?' "

  "That situation might arise, yes," he admitted gravely.

  "And you have a number of other officers of the general staff with you?"

  "I think several of them do, in fact, serve occasionally on that body." His eyes were twinkling with suppressed mirth.

  Ce'Nedra lifted the lock again, and General Varana took it away from her once more.

  "How would you like to meet King Rhodar of Drasnia?" she asked him.

  "I'd be honored to meet his Majesty."

  "Why don't we go see him, then?"

  "Why don't we?"

  "Oh, I love you, Uncle." She laughed, throwing her arms about him again.

  They found King Rhodar in conference with the other leaders of the army in a large airy chamber King Cho-Hag had set aside for their use. There was no longer any pretence of formality among the leaders of the army, and most of them sprawled in comfortable horsehide chairs, watching as the crimson-robed Rhodar measured off dis
tances with a piece of string on a large map that covered one entire wall.

  "It doesn't really seem all that far to me," he was saying to King Cho-Hag.

  "That's because your map is flat, Rhodar," Cho-Hag replied. "The country's very hilly through there. Believe me, it will take three days."

  King Rhodar made an indelicate sound of disgust. "I guess we'll have to give up the idea, then. I'd like to burn out those forts, but I'm not going to start ordering suicide missions. Three days' ride is just too far."

  "Your Majesty," Ce'Nedra said politely.

  "Yes, child?" Rhodar was still frowning at the map.

  "I'd like for you to meet someone."

  King Rhodar turned.

  "Your Majesty," Ce'Nedra said formally, "may I present his Grace, the Duke of Anadile? General Varana, his Majesty, King Rhodar of Drasnia."

  The two men bowed politely to each other, their eyes probing, assessing.

  "The general's reputation precedes him," King Rhodar noted.

  "But his Majesty's skill as a military man has been kept a secret," Varana replied.

  "Do you think that satisfies the demands of courtesy?" Rhodar asked.

  "If not, we can both lie a little bit later on about how excruciatingly polite we were to each other," Varana suggested.

  King Rhodar flashed him a quick grin. "All right, what's Tolnedra's leading tactician doing in Algaria?"

  "Observing, your Majesty."

  "You're going to stick to that story?"

  "Naturally. For political reasons, Tolnedra must maintain a neutral posture in this affair. I'm certain that Drasnian intelligence has briefed your Majesty on the realities of the situation. The five spies you have in the Imperial palace are thoroughly professional."

  "Six, actually," King Rhodar noted in passing.

  General Varana raised one eyebrow. "I suppose we should have known," he said.

  "It changes from time to time." Rhodar shrugged. "You know our strategic situation?"