'I'll kill you for that, Vasselis,' said Gorian, already imagining his face ageing crumpling in his hands. 'One day.'
'Really?' Kovan dropped his bow and strode forwards. 'Try now, Gorian. Try now.'
Gorian flinched backwards. Kovan beckoned him on.
'Not so big now, eh? Not so clever, little Ascendant.'
Kovan thumped his right fist into Gorian's mouth, splitting his lip. Gorian cried out and stumbled backwards. He raised his hands, suddenly scared. There was blood in his mouth. Blood everywhere. Kovan came on and drove his right fist into the side of Gorian's head. There was a roaring in his ear. His legs gave way and he fell to his hands and knees. Kovan's foot caught him in the gut, spinning him onto his back.
Gorian grunted in pain. 'Stop it. Stop it.'
Kovan loomed over him. Gorian's whole body ached. There was a sharp pain in the side of his head. He felt tears in his eyes.
'That's what Mirron said, isn't it? But you wouldn't listen, would you?' Kovan's foot came in again, right below his ribs. Gorian wailed. 'This is what it feels like.'
Kovan dropped on to his body and rained blow after blow into his face with both hands. Gorian didn't have the strength to stop him. Kovan's punches struck his eyes, nose, mouth and cheeks. Every blow brought new pain until he went numb with it all. He was crying now, unable to control himself. Eventually, Kovan relented and stood up.
'Hurts, doesn't it?' he said, flexing his reddening hands. 'I'm going back to the camp now. I have a horse and I'm looking forward to hot food and a warm comfortable cot inside a roomy tent. Got any plans, Gorian? Perhaps you should see to your face. It's an awful mess. Going to swell up and be painful. Still, at least it will go away. What you did to Mirron, that lasts forever.'
Gorian said nothing, just watched him, hating.
'This isn't going to go away, Gorian. They are never going to let you back in. This is your life now. Get used to it.'
He turned and walked from the camp.
'Right,' said Gorian, nodding to himself. 'Right.'
The camp was breaking up to march. It was three hours before dawn. The noise of the striking was everywhere. Horses snorted, hammers fell, stockade sections slapped together on flat bed wagons. They would be ready for the advance cavalry and light infantry to leave shortly. The first maniples would march within the hour. Jhered and Roberto were standing with Dahnishev in the surgeon's operating tent. None of them had slept a wink. The doctor had first examined Arducius and Ossacer under orders from Roberto, then Mirron under those of Jhered. Both for entirely different reasons. Finally, there had been the grim task of examining Menas's body. The surgeon pulled a blood-stained cloth over her corpse. Jhered bit his lip as her head disappeared beneath it. So, any conclusions?' asked Roberto.
Dahnishev blew out his cheeks. 'For the second time in a day, I have never seen anything like it. You tell me she was how old?'
'Thirty-four,' said Jhered. 'Young, fit and very quick.'
'Extraordinary.' Dahnishev frowned. 'If I had to guess, I'd say this body was a hundred years old and more. She died of old age. I've examined her organs, I've looked at her skin and eyes, her hair. Nothing is damaged other than by the ravages of the years. This isn't possible.'
'It shouldn't be,' said Roberto quietly and Jhered felt the general's eyes on him. 'Want to tell me how this can happen?'
'You'll get a better answer from Arducius but in essence, their talent lies in the ability to use small amounts of energy from within themselves or from nearby sources and use it, amplify it in other directions to make things grow.'
'Grow?' Roberto gestured at the body.
'Ah,' said Dahnishev, getting it immediately. 'And in making things grow, they age as a consequence.' 'Precisely,' said Jhered. 'Dear God-around-us,' breathed Roberto.
'But it will have taken everything from him, left him exhausted,' said Jhered.
'Well, thank the Omniscient that he can only kill one every now and again,' said Roberto.
'Look, I know this is all very hard to take in.'
'You have a gift for understatement, Lord Exchequer,' said Roberto.
'Whatever Work they perform, it leaves them tired. The greater the effort, the worse the effects.'
'Yes,' said Dahnishev. ‘I saw the signs of ageing in your other Ascendants. They age in fractional proportion to their Work, don't they?'
'Yes. Gorian will have been in a very poor state. Kovan mentioned as much.'
'Though not as poor as his victim, Paul,' said Roberto. 'We shouldn't let him run free. That was not a good decision.' He shook his head. 'The moment I begin to see the possibilities, even accept them, you present me with a murderer. An assassin who needs no weapon, no poison, no training. Just his touch and his mind.'
'And a bed next to his victim so he can rest afterwards,' said Jhered. 'Roberto, you're overreacting.'
'He's a murderer,' said Roberto.
Jhered sighed and couldn't help but look back at Menas. 'I know. Look, I don't like it either. But the others don't want him dead by our hands.'
'You're the Exchequer. You are not beholden to three minors, no matter how important they might be. And neither am I. If my people find him, they will kill him.'
'Just go with me on this one. Deep down somewhere, the Ascendants want to feel he will achieve redemption. This grants him that possibility.'
'Dusas is coming and he's not even fifteen,' said Dahnishev. 'How much chance do you really think he has?'
'After what he did, freezing to death if he doesn't starve first is better than he deserves. He should burn.' Jhered shut Gorian from his mind. 'Tell me about Mirron.'
'Nothing you don't already know,' said Dahnishev. 'I can confirm the rape. She has lost her virginity, she is bruised and bleeding and there was dried semen on her thigh. It's her head you need to worry about. Not only because of the violation. She witnessed the murder too.'
Jhered nodded. 'I'll deal with it. Try to, anyway.'
'They need to be ready to go in two hours,' said Roberto.
'We will be.' Jhered turned to go.
'And Paul?'
'Yes?'
'They are your responsibility. And they are under probation. No transgressions. I won't have indiscipline in my army.'
Jhered walked through the dismantling of the camp and to the wagon in which the Ascendants had bedded down when their tent was struck. He nodded to the members of Roberto's extraordinarii surrounding it and looked in the back. The two boys and Kovan were asleep but Mirron was sitting up. In the lantern-light, he could see the tear stains on her cheeks.
'You don't have to do it quietly,' he said.
She turned her head to him. 'I don't want them to hear me, Exchequer. They need to sleep.' 'Paul. I told you, call me Paul.'
In the next moment she was across the wagon and flinging her arms around his neck. She buried her head in his shoulder and cried hard. He held her to him awkwardly, one hand on the base of her head, the other stroking her back.
'It's all right,' he said. 'No one can hurt you now.'
'Why did he have to kill her? She was protecting us all.'
'I know, Mirron, I know. She was a great Gatherer and will be a greater loss. I'm so sorry you had to see it.'
Mirron sniffed and drew back, wiping at her eyes. 'Where will he go?'
'Gorian? I don't know,' said Jhered.
'Will he be alright?'
'I—' Jhered stopped, at a loss.
'He will be alright, won't he? He'll find somewhere safe.'
Jhered looked into her eyes and saw the yearning there. The desire for reassurance. It was something he could not give her.
'I don't know, Mirron. Worry about yourself, not him.'
'You can't change her,' said Ossacer from the depths of the wagon. 'It's always been like this.'
'What are you talking about?'
'What Gorian did will make no difference,' said Ossacer. 'Not in the end.' 'I don't—'
'She loves him. She always has.'<
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Chapter 66
848th cycle of God, 1st day of Dusasrise 15th year of the true Ascendancy
The days cooled, die march was unremitting, hard and south-west all the way. The scale of the victory the Ascendants had wrought became more and more apparent with every step. Scouts and cavalry worked up to two days ahead, destroying enemy intelligence-gathering, interrupting supply and harassing Tsardon raiding parties.
But there was no serious force turned to oppose them. Roberto sent armoured foragers into every settlement to flush out enemies and take supplies where he could find them, though there was precious little the Tsardon had not already taken. The army marched close to the Gesternan border, looking for the right place to cross and chase the enemy.
He crossed the Haroq City highway, his scouts reporting no action along the frontier. Gesternan flags flew at the forts. Defences were intact and undamaged. Every pace, every piece of information, brought Jhered's initial guess closer to the truth. And if the Tsardon had chosen to mass their attack on the coastal side, they had done it with everything at their disposal.
It was with grim satisfaction that it became obvious that the task of the seven thousand had been to delay them a significant time. Their arrival now was unexpected and unheralded. Roberto found himself hoping that some of them had escaped the devastation and had taken the news to their masters in the southern armies. An invading army looking fearfully over its shoulder would be absolutely ideal.
Two days from the road linking Kirriev Harbour to Byscar, the most likely focus of attack, Roberto saw the first signs of battle. He was marching the army down the Herolodus Vale. The Karku mountains were at his back, the slopes of the Atreskan southern plains were on his right-hand side and the deep, wide, slow-moving force that was the River Herol was on his left.
A cold rain had been falling for three days, exactly as Arducius had predicted, and his spirits were high. The rainfall had deadened the dusty earth, masking his army's passage along the border. Half of his cavalry was broken up into raiding parties of thirty on the southern plains, keeping him safe from ambush. And his scouts had reported back from the highway.
That evening, he spread maps out over the dining table set up in his tent and along with his command team welcomed Jhered and Arducius to drink, dine and plan. Ossacer was helping Dahnishev in the surgery. Mirron was with the blacksmiths. The inclusion policy had been recommended by Jhered and seemed to be working. Despite considerable anxiety among citizens, attitudes were softening. And they were charming children, though smiles were rare.
'These aren't the absolute best but key terrain is indicated,' said Roberto.
He looked across to Arducius, just an excited child, completely awed by his surroundings and barely able to keep himself in check. It was so hard to believe he was possessed of such power.
'The Tsardon have moved into Gestern, immediately south of our position. They don't have significant supply from Atreska and we've already taken out some of what they do have. Best reports suggest they are heading south beyond Kirriev Harbour. Presumably they are marching directly for Portbrial. They'll be harassed all the way but if the estimates of their strength, around twelve thousand, are right, they won't be stopped.'
'So they didn't mass as expected,' said Davarov.
'No, it's worse. They have a greater force than previously indicated. Now, the good news is that the border around the highway to Kirriev Harbour is still holding. It's fortified and Marshal Mardov has clearly made her play there. They have the mountains west and a secure line all the way to the port.'
'Have we had contact with the defence?' asked Jhered.
'No,' said Roberto. 'I haven't risked a scout. We have upwards of thirty thousand Tsardon battering away down there and if they don't know we're coming, I don't want to give them any hint by handing them a scout.'
'Can that be possible?' asked Neristus. 'Our marching column is almost three miles of chattering infantry, snorting horses and rattling wagons. I find it hard to believe.'
'There is no one so blind as the man who does not expect to see.'
'A pearl of Atreskan wisdom, Davarov?' asked Roberto.
Davarov smiled. 'We have many. But actually, I agree with Rovan. I find it impossible to believe that one Tsardon scout has not escaped the net.'
'I don't know,' said Elise Kastenas. 'Don't discount it. We've seen little activity. The supply trains we've attacked have been poorly defended and hastily put together. It shows little tactical awareness, little planning.'
'Well—' Arducius put a hand to his mouth. 'Sorry.'
Roberto gestured at the map. 'Not at all, young man. You are here to talk with the rest of us. What do you have to say?'
Arducius blushed scarlet and looked over at Jhered, who encouraged him to speak.
'It's just that they didn't expect to be here, did they? Not when the fighting started in Tsard.'
Roberto leaned back in his chair with a hand over his mouth, hiding his smile.
'How long have we all been in the legions?' he asked.
There was a brief silence.
'A combination of something like ninety years,' said Neristus. 'Most of them yours, Rovan,' said Davarov. Laughter bounced around the tent.
Roberto hushed them. 'Thank you, young man, for opening our eyes. A hundred days ago, the Kingdom of Tsard was fighting for its life. They were losing ground in the north and the south and on the verge of having their whole underbelly opened up. They were fighting guerrilla actions in Atreska with no real belief in success.
'And now they are threatening the heart of the Conquord. Of course they aren't ready, of course they aren't organised. Most of their commanders have never prosecuted an invasion. Dear God-who-looks-over-us, it took us four years to gather ourselves for the Tsardon campaign and there are some around this table who felt, correctly as it turns out, that this was not long enough.
'The Tsardon have taken their chance, following the rout at Scintarit, and everything has gone their way so far. Atreska folded,
Yuran defected, Jorganesh was taken out of the game. They have a fleet on the move. Now it's our turn. We can chase those that have already invaded Gestern or we can fall on those attacking the Kirriev Highway border.' He opened his palms. 'Which is it to be?'
'There's no choice,' said Jhered. 'We have to secure one of the major western ports in Gestern. It's unpalatable, the thought of Tsardon running unchecked through Gestern but it's temporary. Defeating the Kirriev Harbour invaders releases Mardov's defence to tackle them. And it lets you turn around to chase the remnants of the defeated Tsardon north and move to the relief of the Neratharn border.'
'My legions are already looking forward to the forced march,' said Roberto.
'But he's right, isn't he?' said Davarov. 'Unless there are enough ships in Kirriev to transport us, which there will never be.'
'Time remains short,' said Roberto. 'How long can Neratharn hold?'
'They have to hold long enough to see you there,' said Jhered. 'So you have to give them hope. There won't be enough ships at Kirriev to take eleven thousand to Neratharn but you can commandeer one and send a messenger.'
Roberto looked around the table. There were no dissenters.
'Done,' he said. 'So now the question is, can we reach them unseen?'
'A little early snow wouldn't go amiss the day after tomorrow,' said Kastenas.
‘I’ll start praying,' said Davarov. 'No need,' said Jhered.
‘I'd forgotten you'd abandoned God, my Lord Exchequer,' said Roberto, unable to stop himself. Jhered didn't react.
'Arducius, think you can bring on a little snowstorm?'
All eyes fixed on the young Ascendant. He shrugged.
'Of course. I can bring the clouds from Kark.'
There was a disbelieving silence around the table. The statement, so matter of fact, so extraordinary, hung in the air.
'Can it really be done?' Davarov's expression was troubled.
'Reality bites, does
n't it?' said Jhered. if Arducius says he can do it, he can do it.'
'What will happen, Arducius?' asked Roberto.
'There are two weather fronts affecting our route at the moment,' he said, Roberto watching him grow in confidence. 'The winds over Kark are very strong and driving cloud over us. It will continue as rain because the temperature is still too high down on the plains.
'But the air is much cooler offshore. With Ossie and Mirron, I can maintain cloud cohesion and bring cold air to land. When I tear the cloud it will snow.'
They were all staring at him. Roberto knew how they felt.
'Can we really rely on this?' asked Elise. 'I just can't conceive it.'
'Absolutely you can,' said Jhered. 'You saw what they did on the plains. This, so Arducius says, is easier.'
'And you can localise this storm, can you?' asked Roberto. He suppressed the urge to laugh at the ludicrous nature of his own question.
'I don't have the ability to do anything else. I will need to be able to see the target area, which might be a problem. How wide do you think it will need to be?'
'We can get you to a viewpoint easily,' said Kastenas. 'The enemy army is spread over a front around four hundred yards wide and about a mile deep if you include the reserve. You don't have to cover it all, just the eastern edge if that's all you can do.'
Another shrug from the boy. 'No problem. For you, it'll be like looking at the storm from behind a window.'
'Tell me something, Arducius. How hard will the wind be blowing that you bring from the coast?' asked Roberto.
'As hard as you like. We can make it a blizzard or a gale for a while if you want.'
'I want very much,' said Roberto, the thrill already growing inside him and the amazement at the potential undimmed. 'Do this right and not only will they not see us, they won't hear us coming either.'
Prosentor Kreysun had moved his onagers up overnight and left his Tsardon army in the field to make camp and sing. The fires had been bright and the celebrations loud and long. Eight days of battle on the border. Attack after attack repelled by defenders he had grown to respect but who were ready to fall. He outnumbered them three to one now and if he could knock over the walls, he would have Gestern and the road to Kirriev at his mercy.
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