The Warrior King: Book Three of the Seer King Trilogy

by Chris Bunch

  Tenedos was rounding up villagers — old men, women, children, everyone — throughout the area he controlled. No one had any idea what his purpose was, but I knew it couldn’t be good, remembering how his magic fed on blood. Until I knew what this meant, I kept this from my commanders, so they wouldn’t begin worrying before the proper time.

  I rode back to Linerges. “Shall we join the dance?”

  • • •

  We met no opposition until we reached the Latane and turned north, and then no more than a handful of Tenedos’s long-range skirmishers, as much spies as soldiers. Some we killed, some we captured, some fled with the news we were on the march.

  I didn’t worry, for I knew, despite Sinait’s best spells, Tenedos’s magic would already have alerted him.

  As we moved, we rebuilt the heliograph towers, so we had constant communication, when the weather allowed, with our rear in Kallio. That doesn’t sound like much, but it was one small step to restore order, to remind Numantians they belonged to a single nation.

  The weather was chill, and it showered occasionally, which kept the trail dust down, but I could feel the new life in the land, the Time of Births coming hard upon us, and hoped the new year would finally bring peace to Numantia.

  Our peace.

  • • •

  “A question, m’lady?” Cymea and I were riding apart from the rest of the group. “Two questions, actually, somewhat idly put, to pass the leagues.”

  “You have but to ask, sirrah,” she said, “and I’ll possibly answer, perhaps even with the truth.”

  “How did Jakuns take the news that you and I have decided to keep company?”

  “As any sensible person would, when a wizard tells him something he hates, and he would rather not chance her wrath and be changed into a hearth spider.”

  “Can you do that?”

  “No, but you don’t have to tell him that. Seriously? Not well. But perhaps he feels I’m seducing you into our ways, instead of the other way around.”

  “That leads me neatly into my second question. Why did you seduce me, as you said?”

  She giggled. “I saw the bulge in your trousers.”

  “Seriously.”

  “If I must.” Her smile vanished. “I could probably come up with three or four reasons, things I saw you do. But I’ll give you two.

  “The first was a very long time ago, after my brother had been … killed.”

  “I didn’t mean to bring that time up.”

  “But it is. So be quiet and listen to me,” Cymea said. “When I was securely bound, and your soldiers were taking us back to Polycittara, away from Lanvirn, you kept looking at me with a worried expression.

  “At first, I thought you were afraid I’d attempt to escape; then I studied your face more carefully. Even though I hated crediting you with any humanity, I saw you were worried about me. About what you feared might happen to me once we reached the imperial dungeons.”

  “I was,” I admitted. “But I never thought my face was that easy to read.”

  “Damastes, my love,” she said. “Do not ever give up soldiering to become a traveling trickster.”

  “So much for masculine pride,” I said. “What’s the other reason?”

  “That first night, when we came to attempt a truce of sorts, and you refused to give up Kutulu. There were six of us, and you still told us to get fucked as traitorous scum.”

  “Sometimes I don’t use the kind of words a general’s supposed to, I guess.”

  “Or maybe those are the words a general is supposed to use,” she said. “At least a good one. Things like that make sure there’s no possibility of being misunderstood.”

  “I’m blushing,” I said. “So you thought I was brave?”

  “Oh, not at all,” Cymea said. “I … we already knew that. I was taken by your charming stupidity. In your position, I would have agreed to anything we wanted, then shouted for the guards as soon as we left, if that was your intent. Doing it that way increases the life span, you know.”

  “Your reasons get more and more appalling,” I said. “I’m sorry I asked.”

  “Poor baby.” She reached across, patted my gauntleted hand. “The truth is always a harsh mistress. But I do love you, you know.”

  “And I you.”

  • • •

  The northern reaches of Kallio aren’t as fertile as the rest of the state, and in some parts almost as barren as Tagil and Amur. A week on the march, and we were forced away from the Latane, tributaries and wide sloughs making it difficult to keep to the banks. We wound our way around the obstacles, through sandy soil and rolling hillocks. There was little on the map ahead of us except a dot of a village, not named, just on the river. I planned to stop there and consolidate my forces.

  Tenedos should be not that many leagues distant on the other side. I hoped to be able to send couriers past his lines to Nicias, to tell Barthou and Scopas to have Trerice march south and join me.

  I was riding at the head of the army, enjoying the clear, cool air, chatting with Cymea and Lasleigh.

  “So,” I said, “when all this is over, and we’re victorious and covered with laurels, what will you do then? Go back and rebuild your estates, with whatever gold and honors a grateful government bestows?”

  He shook his head solemnly. “I doubt if I’d be suited to slip back into country bumpkinry.”

  “Why not? That’s what I intend.”

  Lasleigh stared in disbelief. “I’ll only go back to my estates now and again,” he said. “Probably I’ll purchase a house in Nicias, for convenience.”

  “Convenience?”

  “I think, once we’ve won, there’s a place for me in government,” he said solemnly.

  “In what capacity?” I asked, amused. “Inspector of Wayward Girls?”

  “You jest, sir. I’m one of those who’s keeping himself pure until he marries,” he said, serious as always. “I would like to assist in restoring the monarchy.”

  Both Cymea and I looked at him in considerable surprise.

  “Why not?” he asked defensively. “This Grand Council isn’t any different than what my father told me about the Rule of Ten. Who else could there be but a king?”

  “A council,” Cymea said evenly, “is what you make of it. If it’s made up of representatives of the people … all the people, not just the nobility, then we would have a vastly different nation.”

  “Yes,” Lasleigh said, his voice scornful, “yes, we would, wouldn’t we?”

  Cymea gazed at him coldly, let her horse drop back until she was beside Sinait, began a deliberately casual conversation with the wizard.

  “A bit of advice,” I said. “It’s not wise to make an enemy out of a magician, even when she’s on your side … for the moment.”

  Lasleigh began to reply, caught himself.

  “Sorry, sir. You’re right, sir.”

  “Go on about this monarchy,” I said, mildly interested, letting the miles pass under Swift’s hooves without notice. “The last king died over two hundred years ago, and his son not long afterward. I looked at the records, a long time ago when I was first stationed in Nicias, and there’s not even a pretender. Who should be king? Or queen?”

  “I think we should have to have a nationwide examination … dammit, that’s not the right word,” Lasleigh said. “Some kind of selection process, and who’d be the judges I don’t know. Once some possible candidates have been picked, properly noble, of course, then let the country choose its own king. The Wizard Cymea’s got a point there — why shouldn’t people have a voice in who governs them, at least at first? It could be you, sir.”

  “No, it couldn’t,” I said flatly. “I’ve got mangoes and coconuts to plant.”

  A snort came, and for a moment I thought it was his horse, then realized who’d made the sound.

  “That’d be a waste, sir,” he continued. “Especially after all you’ve done for Numantia.”

  “And to Numantia,” I said, my mood
bleak for an instant, then returning to normal. “Suggest someone else.”

  “I don’t know,” Lasleigh said, his eyes turned away. “I’m sure someone, someone with a proper record of bravery in this war, someone with the proper bloodlines, acceptable to everyone, someone who had no ties with the Maisirian puppets … there’ll be someone.”

  I suddenly had a strange idea Lasleigh, Baron Pilfern, might be referring to himself.

  • • •

  Ahead was a long rise, a series of dunes, and on the other side we should sight the village on the Latane’s banks.

  There was a dark line along the rise, and I thought it brush or perhaps small trees, then saw my vedettes, coming back at full gallop.

  The dark line along the dunes moved, and I realized Tenedos had crossed the Latane and was waiting for us!

  There was no panic, though, after the initial surprise, and we marched to a small curling hill and took its high ground for the center of the line. I deployed my army in three wings, sending the left and right out in extended order. My forces appeared slightly larger than Tenedos’s, and I hoped I might be able to encircle them if I could convince him to attack my center. To reinforce the center, I put the cavalry on either side, light to the front, heavy in the center.

  Yonge’s skirmishers were ordered to harry Tenedos’s line, but to avoid casualties and fall back through the main positions the minute they were attacked in strength.

  Then there was nothing to do but wait and feel the tramp of men’s feet shaking the ground as formations were shuffled and arranged, hear the discordance of both armies’ bugled signals, and the rattle of drums.

  I asked Sinait if there were any spells being cast.

  “No,” she said. “But the air reeks of sorcery. We’ll be ready for them this time.”

  I hoped she was right but was worried. My scouts should’ve reported the river crossing, for I’d had them out along the river’s east bank for leagues. How’d they missed his crossing? Were we being drawn into a trap?

  The ex-emperor’s army finally came to a halt, and silence grew between the armies, perhaps a million men on both sides, silence except for occasional shouts and the neighing of horses, very clear in the still, sharp air.

  A breeze grew in the near silence, whistling across the desolation between the armies.

  One horseman, on a white horse, came out of the enemy center and cantered toward us. He carried no banner but wore golden clothes.

  I recognized him.

  Laish Tenedos.

  He pulled his horse in, cupped his hands, and his voice boomed:

  “I am the Emperor Tenedos! I would speak to General Damastes á Cimabue!”

  He lowered his hands and sat motionless. Waiting.

  “Well?” I said, turning to my wizards.

  “I don’t sense anything,” Cymea said.

  “Nor I,” Sinait said.

  Again, Tenedos raised his hands.

  “General Damastes á Cimabue! Come forth!”

  “I surely don’t trust him,” I said. “But I’m starting to look like a fool.”

  “Sinait,” Cymea said. “Wrap yourself in your cloak, as I’m doing.”

  “Why?”

  “We’ll ride out, maybe halfway, with Damastes. Then stop, about halfway between him and the lines. He won’t be able to recognize us, cloaked, and shouldn’t chance any magic to find out who we are,” she said. “Maybe that’ll worry him a little and give us a bit of power over him. If he attempts anything against either Damastes or the army, we can respond immediately.”

  “Good,” Sinait said. “Damastes, are you willing to stick your head in the lion’s mouth?”

  “Do I have a choice?” I said, and tapped my reins on Swift’s neck. “It isn’t the lion’s mouth that worries me,” I said, trying to make a tiny jest, “so much as his breath.”

  The sound of my horse’s hooves was very loud as I rode forward. Tenedos sat easily in the saddle, waiting.

  The impression I’d had from the Seeing Bowl was confirmed — there was something skewed about his hypnotic stare, and the thought came that his gaze was that of a mad hawk. Then I wondered if all raptors weren’t mad, at least from the glazed hatred and arrogance in their eyes.

  Tenedos was no longer soft, untrained, but lean, sinewy, almost too thin. He wore gold, with a single circlet around his forehead, much like the crown I’d placed on his head long ago in Nicias. I noticed he favored one arm slightly, and hoped Yonge’s arrow wound was unhealed and festering.

  “Greetings, General Damastes,” he said as I closed. “It’s a lovely day for a battle.”

  I inclined my head. “I greet you, as well, although I doubt if there are any good days for killing. Forgive me for not using a title, but I don’t know what that should be.”

  “Emperor sat well once.”

  “That was once.”

  He scowled, and I met his gaze without flinching. His eyes flickered, and he looked away for an instant, then back.

  “I must congratulate you on ridding Numantia of its greatest enemy,” he said.

  I could have made a truthful answer — that greatest enemy was just in front of me, not dead in Urey, but held my silence.

  “Interesting,” he went on, “we … you, I, all Numantia, tried so hard to bring the bastard down, and it cost us everything. Then you succeed with a handful of men and a bit of magic, if the tales I’ve heard are correct.”

  I shrugged. “Time, circumstances were right, I guess. And maybe the gods favored me.”

  “Yes,” Tenedos went on. “Saionji howled in glee when he came back to her, I wager. I wonder what form he’ll be allowed next? A worm? A dog?”

  “I’m not on speaking terms with gods,” I said, “so I wouldn’t hazard a guess.”

  “Damastes, my once-friend,” Tenedos said, his voice becoming familiar. “There’s no need to speak to me like this, just as there is no need for those two behind you. I would guess they’re magicians, but you have nothing to fear from me, not this day.”

  “There was no need for you to attack my family, either,” I said.

  “Would you believe that was not done, or even authorized by me, but by one of my ambitious wizards? I promise you I had Gojjam treat him as he treated your people.”

  I stared at him.

  “You don’t believe me.”

  “No,” I agreed. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Very well then,” and now there was anger in his voice. “I wished to speak to you because I want to strike a bargain.”

  “There can be no bargain,” I said. “Unless you cast that false crown you wear aside and make total surrender. If you do that, I promise … and I’ve yet to break my word … I’ll do my best to make sure you’re not executed.”

  “Now,” he said, voice reasonable, “you know I can’t do that. I have a million and more, people I’ve given my word to. But more than that, more important, is Numantia itself. I’ve vowed my kingdom must be restored to its proper glory and power.”

  “And you’re willing to lay waste to it accomplishing that end?” I said coldly.

  “There are two armies on this field,” he said. “I could say the same to you.”

  “And that is why we’ll fight,” I told him.

  “Not necessarily,” he said. “Because you’ve changed the balance with your removal of King Bairan.” I waited.

  “I’ve cast spells from the moment one of those beings I can summon told me of Bairan’s murder, then the Maisirians’ flight back through Kait toward their own lands.

  “Their path is littered with bodies and their loot, and I’m afraid precious few will ever see their homes.”

  “Not unlike what happened to us in Maisir,” I said bitterly.

  He gave me a hard look, didn’t respond, went on:

  “Those that return to Maisir, what will they find? No king, no chamberlain, no ruler, but rather the mad obscenity of chaos, with all those pissant little lordlings we so despised groping for
power. Chaos! Anarchy! If Numantians cannot handle anarchy, still less can the Maisirians.

  “Now is our chance, now is the time when we must set aside our differences and reunite Numantia immediately. With you and me together again, do you think those idiots Barthou, Scopas, and that general of theirs, Trerice, would stand for long? We must bring peace back to Numantia and make our people content once more, as they were.

  “Then we must move into Maisir and bring order to them, the stability those peasants must have.

  “Damastes, I’m offering you a kingdom! I want you to rule Maisir and for your line to go down in history as the first proper kings of that barbaric land, from now until the ending of time.

  “I know you and know you’re the only man who can bring peace and unity to the Maisirians.”

  “I think you forget something,” I said. “We weren’t defeated by King Bairan, but by more powerful forces. King Bairan may be gone, but King Winter and King Peasant still hold the land.”

  “Pah!” Tenedos said. “We were virgins then, but now we’ve taken full measure of our enemy, and once a problem is recognized, it can be solved. Put aside those minor quibbles, Damastes! Consider what I’m offering you! Immortality! The greatest of power! Think of what I’m offering Numantia!”

  I was shaken for an instant, thinking of the thousands and thousands of leagues that could be mine. I could rule as I chose, if I chose, rule harshly and still be thought a kinder king than any the Maisirians had known. My kingdom, under …

  “I’d be subservient to you, of course,” I temporized.

  Tenedos inclined his head. “Technically, yes. Maisir and Numantia must stand together, for there are other kings, other kingdoms beyond known borders that my magic has spied out who have great power and are more evil than any Numantian can imagine. Yes, you’d be under my vassalage, but not in practice, save in the most important areas. You would reign alone, in fact. I’d hardly waste time second-guessing you.”

  “You certainly wasted no time when I was in Kallio,” I reminded him.

  “I was in error,” he grudged. “I was livid and wasn’t thinking. But I’ve changed, learned from my mistakes.

  “Now come, Damastes. Look around. What in this wasteland is worth fighting for? Why couldn’t we join together, bring Numantia together, and end this pointless slaughter?