Nothing was green as yet, spring still stayed in the south far beyond the hills, but it was apparent that winter was loosening its grip.
Soon, from the broad plains south of those green hills, spring would rise up and send its first hesitant feelers north.
His heart grew solemn even as his thoughts hardened, and his destiny, unheeded for these few months, stirred and came to the forefront of his mind.
The time of quiet, rest, and peace was ending.
He found Thaniel on the far side of a small rise where the snow was shallower and the horse was more easily able to get at the grass beneath.
Thaniel looked up as he topped the hill.
“It is warmer this morning, Lord Aram,” the horse stated.
Aram nodded, frowning. “I brought you a few of the apples.”
Thaniel munched on one of the treats and studied Aram closely. He lifted his head and looked into the north. Then he swung around and gazed southward. “I am very sorry for you, my friend,” he said at last. “But spring is coming.”
Aram looked that way as well, toward the hills to the south. “It is,” he agreed. “It will have already arrived in Elam. Marcus will be bringing his troops north.” He met Thaniel’s gaze. “It is time that we did what has to be done.”
“I am sorry,” the horse repeated.
Aram turned and looked toward the city. One lone beam of sunlight rent the cloud cover and bathed the central part of the city in a multi-hued glow. Reaching out, he laid his hand on Thaniel’s broad shoulder. “We will leave within the week,” he said simply.
And then he dropped his hand and turned his steps toward home.
That evening, as they sat by the fire and listened to another of Eoarl’s stories of his childhood, romping through the fields near his ancestral home with the brother that had died in his youth, Ka’en noticed Aram’s pensive attitude.
She did not speak to him of that which she knew to be the focus of his thoughts, but simply moved closer to him and handed him the tiny girl who had fallen asleep while nursing.
Later, Aram abruptly realized that the older man was no longer speaking and that the room had gone silent. He looked up to find Eoarl’s gaze fixed upon him.
“You haven’t heard a word I’ve said in the last hour, have you, lad?” The farmer asked gently.
Aram looked back at him with regret. “I apologize, Eoarl,” he said. “I meant no rudeness.”
Eoarl waved it away. “With apologies to your lady, Lord Aram; we all know where your thoughts have gone.” He lifted his chin and indicated the unseen valley beyond the walls. “Spring is coming along out there, isn’t it?”
“Soon,” Aram acknowledged quietly. “There was a good bit of warmish rain this morning, and the snow is getting soft.”
Eoarl stared into the fire for a long moment and then lifted his glass and drained it, turning his head to gaze at Aram with an expression of fierce determination upon his face. “I’m going with you, lad.”
“What –?” Aram looked back at the older man in confusion. “Where?”
Eoarl reached over and held his glass to the end of the barrel and turned the spigot. “To war,” he replied. “I’m going with you – and with my son – to this war.”
Aram stared at him and then opened his mouth to protest but the older man cut him off.
“It’s true,” Eoarl said, “that I have seen sixty-two years come and go, but I am as strong as many another man in the ranks. I was in the army in my time, and I know the use of a sword and a lance.” He touched his wife gently to prevent her protests. “It is also true that I have never been to battle, but that is the case for many others who follow you, including every man out of Elam, is it not?”
“It is,” Aram admitted. “Still –”
The old farmer held one hand up toward him, palm outward, and then lifted the glass he’d just filled and drained it dry in one attempt. He set it down firmly and his eyes hardened.
“I’m going,” he said.
Aram hesitated due to the vehemence of Eoarl’s words, but then a glance at the look of fright evident on Dunna’s face told him to try once more. “But I need to you to protect Lady Ka’en and Miss Dunna – and Cala,” he suggested.
Immediately, Eoarl shook his head and indicated Gorfang, asleep near the fire. “That wolf over there will do a finer job of that than I could ever do – as has already been demonstrated,” he said.
He turned aside then and looked long at his wife, his eyes going soft with affection, “I’ll be alright, Dunnie girl; don’t you worry. Besides, by going along, I will be better able to look after our boy, won’t I?” He patted her hand gently and then he looked over and met Aram’s gaze. “I’m going, lad – and there’s an end on it.”
Silence fell and then Aram said, “You’ll need a sword. I put some of the best aside long ago when I first came to this valley. Of course, I have had little use for them since. We will go up to the armory in the morning and you may choose whichever one you like.”
He considered the older man for another long moment.
“Will you ride?” He asked.
Eoarl gazed back, frowning. “A horse?”
Aram nodded.
Eoarl turned his frown upon the fire and thought for a time. Then he shook his head.
“No,” he stated. “I’ll be infantry. Muray is infantry – I would rather be there with my boy, in the thick of it.”
Dunna sucked in a breath at this, but Eoarl turned his placid eyes upon her. “Don’t you worry, Dunnie girl,” he told her once more. “I will return in one piece, I promise. Where do you think Muray gets his toughness?” He smiled at his own words. “Well, most of that he got from you, my girl, I’ll grant you – but his stubbornness came from me.”
Dunna didn’t speak, but her black eyes misted over and she reached out and took his hand.
After a moment, Eoarl retrieved his glass and reached across for Aram’s. Once more, he extended his hand toward the barrel.
After that, the evening turned quiet. There was little to say that was not better kept as an unspoken thought.
Ka’en found Aram, early the next morning, standing at the southern end of the great porch, looking southward, watching another band of gray cloud break like water around the sharp southern end of the black mountain and spill out over the valley. He turned as she came up.
“Where is Mae?”
Ka’en took his hand and stood close to him. “Dunna has her.”
“I have to go,” he said.
“I know.” She turned her head and looked up at him. “Can we come with you?”
He frowned down at her. “You and Mae?”
She nodded. “Yes – and Gorfang.”
To her surprise, he did not immediately refuse, but turned to gaze once more toward the distant green hills as he considered her request. After a long moment, he shook his head.
“No,” he said, and there was regret in his voice. “If things go badly, as well they might, I want you and Mae far away from there.”
“I do not mean that we will go to the battle, my love, but we can be nearby.” She lifted her chin. “It will give you strength to know that your wife and child are there with you.”
He shook his head again. “No – rather, it would render me vulnerable.” He pulled her close. “I love you – and Mae, and I will miss you terribly, but I will not take those I love into danger ever again.”
She laid her head on his shoulder. “There will be injured,” she told him. “I could help Bertrain and the others.”
Again, he hesitated. He thought of the Sword and how he had come to learn a measure of control over its immense power. Now, more than any time since he’d accepted the doom of confronting Manon, he felt that there was at least some hope that he would find a way to survive the encounter.
And it was this hope that decided him. So, again, after a moment, he shook his head.
“No, my love,” he said. “You will stay and I will go and do what
needs to be done, and then, when it is over, I will return to you and I will never leave you again.”
She leaned back and looked up into his eyes. Her own lovely, topaz eyes were wide and soft, limpid with secret fear. “You will return to me, won’t you?”
He met her gaze with firm eyes. “I will return.”
She hid her face in his chest. “I cannot live if you die.”
As she spoke these words, in his heart the flame of hope brightened and became more substantial than it had ever been.
Out of that bright flame of hope there grew an iron-willed determination.
I will live.
Gently, he pushed her away and made her look at him. “I will not die, my love. If anyone, ever, tells you that I have died, he will be the liar.” He grasped her shoulders and spoke firmly. “I will go now, and I will end this. And when it is over, and Manon is no more, I will come home and I will never leave you again.”
Moisture filled her eyes and overflowed. But they were tears of trust and hope, and not of fear.
15.
The day that Aram and Eoarl left the valley for the fortress, the sun shone warm in a clear sky, and it seemed a harbinger of good things.
Eoarl was riding Huram, who had been sent for by way of Inico the falcon. Aram had informed the horse that once he had delivered Eoarl to the fortress he would return to the valley and stay with Ka’en. The horse had protested but Aram was adamant.
“It may be that an emergency will arise and Mistress Ka’en may have need of you. I will not leave her without the benefit of your strength and speed,” Aram told him. And in the end, out of his strong sense of duty and his affection for Lady Ka’en, Huram agreed.
They camped at the edge of the plains and arrived at the fortress in the late morning. The fortress was alive with activity. Troops marched and wheeled upon the grasslands, horses moved in unified lines. To the west, north of the fortress upon the heights near the river, targets had been set up and the bowmen from Seneca were teaching the basics of archery to willing men from Wallensia, Lamont, and Duridia.
South of the fortress, winding down through the swale toward the river, there were long lines of oxcarts, loaded with supplies. At the banks of the Broad, the carts were lined up end-to-end, and the ferry made unceasing trips back and forth across the heavy current, moving men and material over the near-floodtide of spring.
Wamlak stood at the entrance to the fortress when Aram rode up and swung down. “How soon will the army be across the river and ready to march to Cumberland? And is there any word from Elam?” He asked the captain.
“The army will be across the river within the week,” Wamlak replied, and then he grinned and indicated the stairs leading up. “Elam is here, already – at least the High Prince and some of his companions, anyway.”
This surprised Aram. “Indeed? Thank you, captain.”
Marcus, along with Amund and his three generals, Olyeg Kraine, Thom Sota, and Kavnaugh Berezan were seated at the table in the war room with Findaen, Boman, Matibar, Edwar, and Andar when Aram entered. Governor Kitchell was there, as well. Upon seeing him enter the room, they all rose to their feet.
Aram greeted them all and then bade them sit. When he had also taken a chair, he looked around. “Wamlak tells me that we will be across the river and moving west within the week. Is this your assessment also?”
It was Boman that replied. “Yes – at the rate that men and material are crossing the Broad,” he told Aram, “we will be fully across six days from today.”
Aram nodded. “Good,” he said, and looked at Marcus. “And Elam?”
Marcus inclined his head to him. “Our armies will be upon the plains of Cumberland within the week as well, my lord,” he said. “And there are trains loaded with six months’ worth of supplies.”
“Thank you, Your Highness,” Aram responded, and he turned to Findaen. “Are we supplied for that length of time also?”
“We are, my lord,” Findaen answered. “Arthrus and Dane have done the calculations, and believe that we are properly supplied to the end of summer.”
Marcus held up his hand, gaining his attention. “My lord,” he said, “you need have no worry about sufficient supplies. To the southwest of Elam lies the land of Vergon. For time out of mind – before Rahm, that is – that land was a close ally, nearly a vassal, of Elam.
“Now that Rahm is gone, Lady Stefia, Princess of Vergon has re-established relations with us. When she found that we were going to war with Manon, she offered of her stores to go with us, including oxcarts and drivers.” He held up his hand. “They are not military men, mind you, but will aid us in any way you deem necessary.”
“What is Vergon’s quarrel with Manon?” Aram asked. “Why would they aid us in this way?”
Marcus nodded, almost as if he had been expecting the question. “Lady Stefia’s brother, Ujen, was Prince of Aniza, and was slaughtered when Manon’s beasts ravaged that land.” He shook his head and smiled grimly. “She hates Manon even more than she hated Rahm.”
“Alright, Your Highness.” Aram said. “I would ask you to give the Lady Stefia my regards when next you meet with her.”
“I will do so, Lord Aram,” Marcus assured him, and then he went on. “There is one thing more – Vergon has long been the seat of intellectual endeavor. I was sent to study there in the academy at Sulan as a youth. Vergon has historically produced skilled surgeons of very high quality. Lady Stefia has sent every one of these surgeons that she could spare to us along with the supply wagons.”
Amazed at this piece of unexpectedly good news, Aram gazed at the young prince with a smile of admiration. “You have done well, Marcus,” he said, forgetting the use of the young man’s title in the warmth of the moment. “You have a very good friend in the Princess – and I am glad that you are our friend.”
Marcus flushed. “I owe you everything, my lord.”
Aram’s smile went away, and he shook his head solemnly. “You owe me nothing,” he said.
Then he looked around at the others. “Thanks to all your efforts, and Prince Marcus’ friend, we seem to be well supplied and moving out in good order.” He looked at Findaen. “What about the gun?” He asked.
Findaen grinned. “Your man, Timmon, has shown a great proclivity for the use of that thing, my lord. He intends to seek permission to be placed in charge of it when on the field.”
“He’s a very clever man,” Aram agreed. “Does Arthrus concur with Timmon’s opinion of his prowess?”
“He does.”
“And do you?” Aram persisted.
Findaen laughed. “Timmon destroys every target we construct with no more than three or four shots from that thing.”
Aram nodded. “Good. How is it moved?”
“My lord?”
“How is the cart containing the gun to be transported north – and once upon the field, how will it be moved about as needed?”
Findaen frowned. “By oxen, of course.”
Aram shook his head at that. “Oxen may transport it into the north but are too slow to manage it upon the field. If we need to re-position the gun during the course of battle, it must be done quickly. I will talk to Thaniel and inquire as to the possibility of his people aiding us in the matter.”
He looked over at Marcus. “How are your troops organized, Your Highness?”
Marcus, in turn, looked at Olyeg. “By your leave, my lord; I will defer that question to General Kraine.”
When Aram’s gaze settled on him, Olyeg nodded and replied to Aram’s inquiry. “Elam’s forces are organized into six divisions, my lord, each under command of a general and two sub-generals. Beneath the sub-generals, the forces are divided into four units, each of whom has its commander. Below those commanders, every group of two hundred men is under the direct command of a captain.”
Aram nodded. “And are you satisfied with the skills of those in command of the various units?”
Olyeg hesitated. “As much as I can be, my lord, but
of course none of us – except for General Sota – has seen action upon the field. I command one division myself. It is hard to know how any of us will behave when steel meets steel until we have actually experienced it.”
“This is undoubtedly true,” Aram agreed thoughtfully. He looked at Marcus for a moment and then returned his gaze to Kraine. “Which is why, general, I request your permission to meet with your commanders, that I may reach my own conclusions. Do you object to this?”
“No, my lord, of course not,” Kraine responded. “In point of fact, I assumed that you would wish to do so.”
Aram looked at Marcus once more; then moved his gaze on to Thom Sota and Kavnaugh Berezan before once again addressing Olyeg. “Elam will be the largest contingent by far upon the field,” he told the general. “But it is also untested.”
He hesitated and looked at Findaen. “Where are Donnick and Nikolus?” He asked.
“Nikolus is working with the new horse-borne riders from Duridia, Lamont, and Seneca,” he said. “And Donnick is overseeing the movement of troops across the river with Dane and Arthrus.”
Aram nodded and turned back to Kraine. “You said that you command one of the divisions, general?”
“I do, as does General Berezan and General Sota.”
“Are there officers you can promote to command of divisions to replace you, Thom, and Kavnaugh?” Aram asked.
Olyeg started – as did the other men mentioned – and he frowned. “Yes, there are other men of competence, my lord – if you think it necessary.”
”I want to split Elam into two equal forces, general,” Aram explained to Olyeg, as he moved his hands apart upon the table. “Of three divisions each. I want you in command of one half, and General Berezan in command of the other – rather than having each of you bound to the actions of a single division. These two large but untested forces will anchor the flanks of our army upon the field.”
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