Cry of the Newborn

by James Barclay

'All the reports are in, I take it,' said the Advocate. 'Yes, my Advocate,' said Niranes. 'And I have already responded demanding more. I don't know what else we can do.'

  Harin cleared his throat noisily and felt his face flush with irritation. He looked pointedly at the tactical map and its feeble number of legion markers.

  'You are in every way a product of the Jhered school, Appros Harin,' said the Advocate. 'What is it that so taxes you?'

  'The Conquord is complacent, my Advocate,' he said, marshalling his courage. 'And it will fall because of it. We stand here talking about demanding more support but we will get none. Even if we did it would arrive too late.'

  He pushed a hand at the muster reports.

  'Pick any one of them and it tells you all you need to know. Bahkir has managed a third of its expected numbers and cites western sea raiders as a reason not to send more. Morasia's muster is pathetic. Tundarra claims the Omari are threatening her borders. Similarly, Dornos. We had to have their numbers on the Atreskan border. We are short by twenty thousand soldiers and cavalry. They know the Tsardon aren't going to invade them because King Khuran wants to sack Estorr and that is as far as he will go. So when it comes to it, when war begins to extend its hand, all those countries who gloried in the wealth of the Conquord are effectively turning their backs. All they are sending us in great quantity is food.'

  The Advocate stared at him long and hard. He felt himself begin to wilt under the pressure. Eventually, she gestured back towards the palace.

  'I have representatives from all those countries staying on the Hill,' she said quietly. 'What do you propose I do with them?'

  'With respect, my Advocate, it doesn't matter. They are all loyal Conquord people but their influence clearly doesn't spread to the palaces and villas of their home countries. Not enough are coming. We have everything we could hope for from Neratharn, Avarn, Caraduk, Easthale and Estorea. But latest reports suggest at least forty thousand rebels and Tsardon are on the march west through Atreska. We will muster twenty-five thousand at best. It will not be enough.'

  'Marshal General Niranes, your thoughts?' The Advocate turned her gaze upon him. He started. Harin bit his lip to avoid laughing.

  Niranes waved a hand at the map. 'We can hold them for long enough that more will come. They are the Tsardon. We are the Conquord. But if you are worried, let's take defence from the eastern coast of the Tirronean Sea and send it to Neratharn.'

  'Suicide,' muttered Harin. 'Idiot. They are too far away already.'

  'Appros Harin, you will mind your words,' said Niranes

  Harin felt the last vestiges of his respect disperse. 'Damn you, I will not. You have not listened to me. You have not taken up my contingency plans. You have relied on every territory sending eighty per cent of the maximum numbers. The Neratharnese front is too broad to defend against such numbers. I asked you to move the coastal reserve north fifteen days ago. Now it is too late.'

  'Not if we use the fleet to transport them,' hissed Niranes.

  'And leave Kester Isle a helpless sentinel should the Tsardon fleet be on the way? Why didn't you listen to me?'

  'Enough!' The Advocate slapped her hand on the table. Her voice echoed through the basilica. Heads turned. 'What are you telling me. That we cannot defend the Conquord? That is not acceptable.'

  'We can,' said Niranes. 'Move legions from Estorr and Caraduk's coasts using the Ocetanas.'

  'And I will welcome the Tsardon into Estorr's harbour myself.' Harin turned to the Advocate. 'May I speak freely?'

  'You mean, you haven't been so far?' The Advocate's tone was without humour. 'Why not? I'm standing here wondering if I'll have a Conquord to rule come genastro, and I find myself listening to bickering children. And when you have spoken, I will hear the Marshal General. Also without interruption.'

  Harin bowed and took a deep breath.

  'It is a rule of war the Marshal ignores, that you cannot attack or defend with potential numbers of home forces, only with absolutes. Therefore, we cannot currently expect to hold the Neratharnese border. We could, just possibly, reinforce in enough time by raping the coast of its infantry defence. But the transport and supply of ten to fifteen thousand infantry on a sea journey of that length is not to be undertaken lightly. If it isn't done properly, they will be in no condition to fight when they arrive.

  'The second rule the Marshal has ignored is that you must prosecute defence on your enemy's potential numbers and not on known absolutes. My Advocate, Gesteris lost at Scintarit almost eighty days ago. It is inconceivable that the Tsardon fleet has not moved to attack either the east coast of Gestern or, more likely, their Tirronean coastline directly. Make no mistake. King Khuran wants his flag on the Hill now that he has us on the run. And he will move on both fronts.

  'The Atreskan navy is sizeable and we can assume widespread defection. The Tsardon navy is reportedly enormous. The Ocetanas is spread the length and breadth of the Tirronean Sea already. To move a hundred ships off station invites the Tsardon to sail in virtually unopposed. We could have moved defence by road fifteen days ago and left the Ocetanas to guard the coasts. Critically, we could have taken a couple of thousand horses. I was ignored by this civil servant and now it is too late.'

  The Advocate raised a hand to silence Niranes while she thought. Harin watched her study the map. Her eyes moved to Tsard.

  'Give me options. I will not cede the Conquord. We have armies in the field in Tsard. What of them?'

  'We know that Atarkis is pledged to defend the Gosland front. He will hold but he will not break through either, in my opinion. We have no word from Jorganesh. We can assume that he is heading for Gestern but we cannot rely on it. And your son is marching south. The number of Tsardon pressing the Gesternan border is too great for Marshal Mardov to counter for long and then the western coast of Gestern is open to the enemy.

  'General Del Aglios is your most capable commander but even he has been damaged by plague. Both he and Atarkis have moved away from Atreska because they had to hope we could stay the advance. Your son will be angling to protect Estorr from invasion and I have no doubt he will succeed.'

  'But he will be too far from Neratharn to help us when he does,' said the Advocate.

  'Yes, my Lady.'

  'There has been a disastrous error of judgement,' she said. 'Yes,' said Harin. 'But we can still buy a little time and hope for a miracle.'

  'Is that all we have to hope for?' asked the Advocate.

  Harin shrugged. 'If your son is victorious sooner than we could dream of and marches faster than we can imagine, he might reach Neratharn through Atreska in time. Or we can pray that Exchequer Jhered was right and the Ascendants are the weapon to win the war.'

  'But you will refer me to rule one if I cling on to that,' said the Advocate.

  'Indeed I will.' Harin could feel the change in the mood.

  'And tell me, Appros Harin, how you will buy me some time for the miracle we must pray for from now on.'

  'Release me from my duties here. The levium are mustered at the Solastro Palace. I know they should ride to secure Estorr but that is no use to us now. Let me lead them to Neratharn. Over three thousand horse. We'll be late to the battle but we'll get there before the end.'

  The Advocate considered for a moment. 'But where will I find another Harin to advise on tactics?'

  'Appros Derizan is in Estorr,' said Harin. 'She is more than capable. I can brief her before I leave.'

  'Good. Then go, Harin, and take my blessing, my good wishes and the hope of the Conquord with you.'

  'One more thing, if I may,' said Harin. The Advocate nodded. 'I'm going to break rule one. Lord Jhered will come through. Look for him at the time you need him most. He has an uncanny knack of being at your side.'

  The Advocate smiled. 'I pray to the Omniscient that you are right.'

  Harin thumped his right fist onto his chest and marched from the table. He heard the Advocate speak to Niranes, a smile cracking his face.

  'I have
a new title for myself,' she said. 'Marshal General of the Conquord.' 'I—'

  'You, Niranes, might have cost me the Conquord with your pigheaded arrogance. Go home and implore God that the next person to knock on your door is me, not King Khuran. Get out of my sight.'

  Chapter 60

  848th cycle of God, 35th day of Solasfall 15th year of the true Ascendancy

  Roberto broke away from the embrace, but still couldn't quite believe it. The absurdity made him laugh and it was a moment before he could speak.

  'Of all the people for my scouts to bring back, absolutely the last in my thoughts was you.'

  'I'm just glad to be here. There were some with distinctly twitchy fingers on those strings.'

  'They were just irritable you got the quarry first,' said Roberto. 'What madness has brought you into the wilds? Actually, stow that, because I know more than you think. I just didn't believe it.'

  'So, in reality, you've been expecting me,' said Jhered.

  He was in need of a shave but had lost none of his presence. The quiet that had swept the army when he passed by on his way to Roberto's tent was proof enough.

  'Technically.'

  'I'm impressed messengers have reached you. Which way did they come?'

  'I've had three,' said Roberto. 'Two from the south via Gestern and one from the west through Atreska. They've been slow so the news is old but I expect the picture is accurate enough.'

  ‘I have far more recent information about Gestern.'

  'Good,' said Roberto. He pointed the way to the tilted desk on which his maps were pinned. 'We'll deal with your cargo in a moment. But let me tell you where we are right now.'

  He indicated a map that covered Atreska, Gosland, eastern Tsard, Gestern and the Tirronean Sea to its western coasts.

  'The war has not yet reached the Neratharnese border but it is

  imminent. We do not have forces capable of holding the enemy for long. Gestern, I understand, will be embattled at much the same time. At least Gosland appears relatively secure. The Tsardon have organised very well. I only hope that what we have seen represents their entire strength.'

  'What news of resistance in Atreska?' asked Jhered.

  'Fractured and insignificant. The scale of Yuran's betrayal is immense and it is clear most of his people love him enough to believe in him still. Any loyal legions we have are either destroyed or fleeing north or west where they may be of more use. Some awoke with the blades of those they thought friends at their throats.' Roberto shook his head. 'Atreska is a mess. One day its people will see the folly they have sanctioned. The Tsardon spill lies about a liberation. But they will not leave unless the Conquord forces them out. Only the most naive would believe otherwise.'

  'And what is left should the Tsardon break through our defences in Neratharn?'

  'Precious little. Coastal defence. The 1st legion. Not enough.' Roberto wiped a hand across his face and felt the despair growing again. 'Paul, I think I have made a mistake that might cost us the Conquord.'

  'What? No. No. To march south was the best decision of your life. Believe me.'

  'How can that be? Jorganesh will be in Gestern by now. The Tsardon cannot get through, they do not have the numbers. I should have fought through Atreska and relieved Neratharn. Dammit but I've lost seven hundred of my Atreskan alae because of it. I all but called them cowards and traitors. But it's me who is the coward. Running from battle.'

  'Never speak like that,' snapped Jhered, grabbing Roberto's chin in one huge hand. 'Never. It does you disservice. And it is not true. You know why you decided to march south. And I thank the Omniscient that you did.'

  He paused and slackened his grip, dropped his hand with an apology. He was biting his lip.

  'What's wrong, Paul?'

  'Jorganesh isn't in Gestern,' he said quietly. 'And he never will make it.'

  'What are you saying?' asked Roberto.

  'He was ambushed in Lubjek's Defile. His army was slaughtered. There is no one stopping the Tsardon southern front reaching Gestern.'

  Roberto couldn't get his thoughts into order. He stared down at the map. In his mind's eye, he could see the spread of the Tsardon across his beloved Conquord like a rising tide. Unstoppable. Inevitable. And one by one, all those he knew and trusted were being drowned. Gesteris, and now Jorganesh.

  'Are you sure?'

  ‘I saw it for myself.' Jhered cleared his throat. 'There's something else. You've been marching unmolested, haven't you?'

  Roberto nodded. 'It's been a blessing. Confusing but a blessing. We are being tracked though. They know we're coming. But we aren't gaining ground on them fast enough.'

  'That's because they aren't ahead of you. Your scouts aren't going to find their path. And they aren't attacking you because you're going in the wrong direction. They plan to attack and take the Gesternan coast, travel as far south down it as they can to take ship to Estorr. I'm certain of it.'

  Roberto focused on the map once more. 'Dusas will beat them,' he said. 'The Atreskan rebel navy is not large enough to take an invasion force and the Ocetanas will wipe them out. They cannot build enough ships in Gestern, even assuming they have the skill and the resources before dusas renders a crossing too risky.'

  'They won't need to,' said Jhered. 'Their armada has already sailed from the Bay of Harryn. Hundreds of sails, the Karku say. Enough, certainly.'

  'Then I am already too late.' Roberto's despair threatened to clog his throat.

  'No,' said Jhered. 'Not if you change your direction now and chase them by the fastest route. The Tsardon are mustering but they have not yet attacked.'

  'What difference will it really make? If Jorganesh is gone, then my eleven thousand face at least three times that number. Even with the Gesternan defence, these are poor odds.'

  'Trust me. I have just delivered you the most powerful weapon of this war. One that can stop whole armies at a stroke without you having to prime one scorpion.'

  'The Ascendants?' said Roberto, shaking his head. ‘I have conflicting stories concerning them. None in which I place the remotest faith. And accusations concerning your loyalty to my mother and the Omniscient. I also have a message from my mother asking me to scout for you. It's playing out like a bad piece of drama. Perhaps you'd better give me your side. I could do with having my mood lightened by more exaggeration.'

  Mirron sat with Menas, away from the others, in the tent that had been cleared for them. They had come in under the scrutiny of the whole army so it seemed. Mirron had found it quite overwhelming while the others had seemed excited at it all. So much noise. So many people in endless rows of tents. Her ears were full of the sounds of hammer on metal or sword on sword where soldiers sparred. There was a barrage of conversation, too. And the pandemonium that came with hundreds of horses corralled together.

  On their heads-bowed walk in she had endured wolf whistles and countless invitations. Some of them she hadn't even understood. Menas had thrown a protective arm around her and made her Gatherer cloak public knowledge. That had silenced some of them. Kovan had been at her side too but had since run off to see if he could find any of his friends in the Estorean hastati.

  That left Ossacer and Arducius practising the capture of energies from the still air, along with Gorian. Ossacer thought that if they could make it efficient, it could be a source of power, greater than fire, earth, sea or tree. He'd been saying it for years. Only Arducius really believed him and that was only because he was a Wind Harker and wanted to call hurricanes from nothing. She hadn't felt like helping out. She was tired and her stomach ached. Only Menas seemed sensitive to her mood.

  'Feeling a little alone?' asked the Gatherer.

  'I don't know why it should be. There are so many people about.'

  Menas smoothed hair from her brow. 'Oh, Mirron, you really have been kept from the real world, haven't you?'

  'I'm only fourteen, Erith,' said Mirron sharply. 'Anyway, I haven't been kept from it. Westfallen is the real world. Was.'

>   'But it's so different from this, isn't it? There are more than ten thousand people in this camp. You've never been in such a large gathering before, have you? Never been to Port Roulent, let alone Cirandon or Estorr, I doubt.'

  Mirron went to the door of the tent. They weren't under arrest but there were guards either side. She looked out over the canvas city just beginning to fade at its extremities as the sun dipped away west. Earlier and earlier now that dusas was just around the corner. The noise had not abated. Clashing, shouting, barking, running, singing. Kovan said it wouldn't die away until the dead of night and even then, some would choose not to sleep.

  'So why do I feel alone?' she asked. 'And why do I feel ... I don't know.'

  'Threatened?'

  'Yes.' She walked back to Menas and sat down, a little shudder across her shoulders. 'This is our army, isn't it? I should feel safe.'

  'It's not to do with enemies and friends. This just isn't a place for young people like you and your brothers. You most particularly. These are battle-hardened men and women that used to be farmers and potters like those in your home town. Most of them remember their past lives only as dreams. They still desire to return to their old lives but in the middle of a desperate situation it is dangerous to think of it. So they make this army all of their existence. Do you understand?'

  'Sort of.'

  'And you don't belong in it. You can feel the aggression but you can't hope to understand it. They desperately need routine and discipline and our arrival with the Exchequer is like throwing a stone into a mill pond. They will be suspicious until they understand your presence here. Even if the Exchequer does convince General Del Aglios of your worth, many of his army will never accept you. Remember what you told me about the reaction on the ship? It will be the same here, only there are ten thousand, not two hundred.'

  Mirron slumped. She looked at the others, deep in concentration and could feel only hopelessness for them all.

  'People shouldn't hate us,' she said. 'Why can't they see we are here to help them win and get back to their stupid lives? That's what Jhered wants us to do. Why can't he make them see?'