by Peter Kenson
“Now what you youngsters may not know, is that there are two other Lyenar villages, tribes you might almost call them. One of them was here in Keldis and the other was in Westron. Lord Jeren sent messages to both of them, similar to the message we received in Puerto Reis and both villages are on the move with the intention of meeting up with Lord Jeren at Yarford. He also sent messages to the Lyenar merchants in every major trading city which is why Master Solomon is not here. He and the other merchants in Kell, left a week ago for Yarford.”
“Then we must go to Yarford as well,” Zak said eagerly.
“Well hold on just a minute, son. While I was down at the wagons just now, I took the opportunity to find this old map of Keldis.”
Josep produced a battered old map and they cleared the table of plates and bowls to make room for it.
“Now we’re here and this is Yarford,” Josep went on, indicating the two cities. “As you can see it is more or less southeast of here, about nine days travel with the wagons. We can certainly head in that direction but the risk is that, by the time we get there, they may have already moved on into the hills or even started out across the Shieling.
“From what Ishak told me, the village here in Keldis was fairly close to Yarford so they will have already met up with Lord Jeren. The people from Westron will have had further to travel but they will have been on the road since before we left Puerto Reis. They may or may not already be there but they will almost certainly arrive within the next nine days. So if we head towards Yarford, we may not get there in time to join them and have to follow on behind.
“There is an alternative, although it does carry a higher level of risk. We may not catch Lord Jeren at Yarford but we know where he is going. He will climb up to the Shieling and head north to High Falls before turning east to Marmoros.”
“Why wouldn’t he just head straight for Marmoros?” Zak asked.
“Because of the Savage River. The entrance into the Neverwinter valley leading to Marmoros is north of the river and the only place where the river can be crossed, is the ford at High Falls. Now, instead of heading southeast towards Yarford, we can head northeast towards High Falls, climb up through the hills there and wait for Lord Jeren to arrive.”
“Can we get there in time?”
“Oh yes. It will take us about the same time to reach the foothills below High Falls as it would to reach Yarford. Then, from the foothills, it will only be a day to reach the top, albeit a full day. The distance is short but the climb is steep. We will be there before Lord Jeren, even if he has already left Yarford.”
“Then that sounds like the better option,” Zak said, looking around the table for support.
“There is one other factor which we should take into account before we make a final decision,” Josep said cautiously. “The town of High Falls is not large but it is allied with the current occupants of Marmoros. I don’t know whether the alliance was entered into willingly or out of a sense of self-preservation but certainly they pay taxes to Marmoros. Taxes which they raise by levying a toll on all passing caravans either on the ford across the river or on the road which we will be travelling from Kell. At best it will cost us some money or goods. At worst, we may encounter some hostility if they take exception to us waiting to join an army marching on their allies.”
The discussion went on for a little while longer after that but, in the end, it was the prospect of anticipating Lord Jeren rather than chasing him, that won the day and the decision was unanimous. Next morning they would set out for High Falls.
Chapter 20
He could hear the voices again, still in the white background, still nothing to see. He knew they were talking about him but this time it was different. There was a third voice; an authoritative voice that he knew he should recognise. It was there, the name, floating in the back of his consciousness. It was such a familiar voice. He just could not focus on it.
“Is he ready?”
“He’s as ready as we can make him.”
“Then let’s start bringing him round. The ship leaves tomorrow. Insertion is in three days.”
“We have to store his records. In case he needs any… adjustment when he returns. What name do we use for the archive?”
“We kept the name the same. It was too great a risk to change his name. He really is Lord David Held; a family member of the Held Trading Barony.”
“Khan”. His training enabled David to come instantly awake without moving a muscle. “It was Khan, the bastard. Not,” he acknowledged, “a real bastard in that his parents were probably legally married or whatever passed for that on Khan’s homeworld. But definitely a bastard in the way he directed the defence of the empire with utter ruthlessness.”
He assessed his immediate surroundings. He was lying on a reasonably comfortable mattress covered with sleeping furs, with an attractive little brunette snuggled up against one side and a more voluptuous blonde on the other with her leg draped invitingly across his own. Mo and Leyla; he knew who they were. But his head was now filling up with other memories, criss-crossing between the reality of now and where he had been before. The suppressed memories came flooding in thick and fast, tumbling over themselves in a race to get to the front of his mind. He knew where he was and now, why he was there but he lay motionless for some time, sorting his thoughts and placing the memories into ordered little compartments.
Carefully he extracted himself from between the two girls and stretched to his full height. He winced as the stitches that Marta had put into his side, pulled against the muscles. They were starting to seriously itch now and could probably be removed quite soon. He dressed quickly and stepped outside into the fresh air of the early dawn.
He almost fell over Jaks and Izzy who were sleeping at the door to the tent. Jaks was awake and jumped to his feet but Izzy rolled over and sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes.
“Jaks, I’m just going for my morning routine. You’re welcome to come if you like.
“Izzy, go back to sleep. I don’t need you yet.”
The morning exercise routine did not go as well as he hoped. His katana had been destroyed in the fight, days before and the practice sword had a different weight and balance to it. He was also hampered by the stitches in his side which limited some of his movement. However, Jaks skill as a swordsman was improving in leaps and bounds and David practiced several moves with him before heading back to the tent to find the girls already awake and breakfast well under way.
They had arrived at Yarford, four days earlier to find the Lyenar from Keldis already there, awaiting them. It was a much smaller village of only a hundred and fifty families but they had spread themselves across a huge water meadow between the River Yarrow and the highroad and, being the first-comers, had taken all the best sites for their wagons and herds.
David and Ash had ridden on ahead of the column and sat there surveying the scene in front of them. The water meadow was so vast that it could easily accommodate all of Falaise’s people and the Lyenar coming from Westron as well but they would have to infill the gaps rather than stopping together in a group with a defensible perimeter.
“I guess we will have to patrol the whole of the meadow,” David remarked. “If these people join forces with Jeren at the council meeting tomorrow, then they will come under our protection anyway. I’m just looking for somewhere where we can secure the safety of Jeren and Falaise while we are waiting for everybody to get here.”
“There’s that hill over there,” Ash said, pointing out a small, almost circular rise on the other side of the road from the meadow. It was not much of a hill but it did provide some slight elevation above the highroad which in turn, was slightly above the level of the meadow.
“We can put their wagons on the top of the rise and set up the tent for the council meeting on that flat spot just below them,” he went on. “Then the company sets up camp all around the base of the rise and you’ve got all the protection you could wish for.”
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br /> “Fine,” David agreed. “You organise the camp on that hill and I’ll go and persuade Jeren and Falaise to make an entrance in the state coach.”
And it had been quite an entrance with Jorgen’s red cloaks providing a guard of honour and David and Baltur reprising their roles of Herald and Equerry. The entire village had turned out to watch the procession together with a sizeable number of the townspeople of Yarford. They stopped the coach on the highroad between the meadow and the hill and when Jeren handed Falaise down from the coach, a great cheer went up from the watching Lyenar. The leader of the local council, Lord Meriden, stepped forward to greet them and Falaise invited him and the other council members, to dine with them that night ahead of the formal council meeting the next day.
The banquet that night and the combined council meeting had both gone well with Lord Meriden pledging the support of his people to Jeren and Falaise. But, Meriden had warned, the Westron contingent was due to arrive soon and they had much closer familial ties to the ex-Lord Gaelan who had been banished by Falaise. They had agreed to come and hear what was being said, enticed by the talk of Marmoros, but gaining their support for military action might be hard.
That council meeting had been three days ago and David and his officers now had almost a hundred and fifty men under arms. Many of them had never had any military training before but Bern now had a squad of over forty archers and Jorgen had twice that many spearmen. Reuben and Marvin had been as good as their word and were producing pikes and halberds as fast as metal could be found to melt down for them. The pikes were twice as long as Jorgen’s ordinary spears and Marvin was busy training a mixed unit of pikes and halberds to withstand the type of cavalry charge that had caused so many casualties outside the walls of Highport.
David was standing at the top of the rise watching one such training session when Kemon suddenly appeared at his shoulder.
“Could I have a word, milord?”
“Of course, Kemon. What is it?”
“Well, uh,” Kemon looked pointedly at Jaks and Izzy.
David caught the look. “Oh, I see. Jaks, Izzy, go and find something to do but stay within shouting distance.”
As soon as they were out of earshot, Kemon went on. “I’ve been picking up some chatter in the village, milord. First I thought it was just rumour, idle chatter but I’m hearing it too often to just dismiss it. So I thought I’d better come and report.”
“Okay, Kemon. What is it you’ve heard?”
“Well, that other lot of Lyenar, from Westron, are due to get here soon.”
“This afternoon, according to Ash’s scouts.”
“They’re being led by Lord Grekan, very powerful man who’s been ruling the council there for some years now. With an iron hand, from what I hear. Anyhow, this Grekan is first cousin to that Gaelan feller that was put on trial for treason and, therefore, second cousin to the late Lord Brantyen.”
“I’m beginning to not like the way this is going,” David said. “Go on.”
“Well, the word is this Grekan thinks he should be the new ruler of the Lyenar, not Lord Jeren. And when he gets here, he’s going to displace the young lord, unite the people under his banner and claim the glory of retaking Marmoros for hisself.”
“And Lady Falaise?”
“That’s the clever part, or the nasty part. Depends on which way you wants to look at it. See young Jeren and his mother are quite popular, particularly with the people we’ve brought out of Paelis. Lot of people wouldn’t be happy to see them just sort of disappear like. But this Grekan is a widower and he’s got no children. So if he marries Falaise, he could adopt Jeren as his own heir, unite the whole of the Lyenar and everybody would be happy.”
“Falaise would never agree to that.”
“Maybe not, milord. But a knife held against a son’s throat will quickly change any mother’s mind.”
“You’re saying that Jeren is in danger of being kidnapped and held as a hostage?”
“That’s how I’d do it, milord. Wouldn’t you?”
“Okay, so we warn Jeren and assign him some bodyguards. What can we do about Grekan?”
“Nothing, milord. From what I’ve discovered so far, he’s untouchable. All of his people are either loyal or terrified or both. Course I may be able to find something when I can get in amongst them but, as of now, I’ve got nothing on him.”
“Okay, well done, Kemon. And thank you. Soon as Grekan’s people arrive, get in there and see what you can turn up.
“Jaks, Izzy,” he yelled and two heads popped out from behind one of the nearby wagons.
“Where’s Lord Jeren?” he demanded.
“He’ll be at sword practice with Captain Feynor and Jacob,” Jaks replied.
“Go find him and bring Feynor and Jacob back with him.
“Izzy, go and find the Lady Falaise and ask her if she could spare me a few moments of her time.”
He sat down on the grass to think as the two runners departed at speed.
“Lord David,” said a voice in his head that he recognised at once.
“Suzanne. Where are you?”
“The Navy sent one of His Imperial Majesty’s corvettes in support, my lord. I’m aboard the Cleopatra; you remember Lieutenant Commander Boronin?”
“Mikael. He’s here? I trust he’s taking good care of you.”
“He is making me most… comfortable, my lord.”
“Hm, good. I take it that you were listening in on that last conversation.”
“I apologise for the intrusion, my lord but yes. Khan thought that a situation like this might occur and he has come up with something that may help. We had to tell him about the sword, of course. It shouldn’t be down there but, since it is, he thinks we may be able to turn it to our advantage.”
Suzanne quickly outlined the shape of Khan’s plan.
“Khan really thinks that will work?” David asked in astonishment.
“Yes. If you present it as a powerful piece of magic. And Khan says it’s been done before, very successfully, by one of his predecessors. Many years ago on a planet called Sol 3.”
“Okay, what do you want me to do?”
“We need to make some adjustment to the sword to tune it to Prince Jeren. About three thousand paces due north of that little hill where you are now, there’s a clearing with a standing stone in the centre. Leave the sword there today before nightfall, along with a lock of Prince Jeren’s hair. We will leave the sword somewhere obvious for you to find in the morning. Oh and take your broken katana with you. We’ve managed to find you a replacement and it will be waiting for you in the clearing.”
“All right. I can arrange that. I will also leave a small stone there. I think it’s an uncut gemstone but I don’t recognise it. Could you identify it for me?”
“David, is everything all right?”
A voice broke in on his thoughts and he looked up to see Falaise standing there with a worried expression on her face. “You looked as though you were miles away.”
He hastily scrambled to his feet. “In a way I was, Falaise. But I’ll explain when the others get here.”
They did not have long to wait as Jaks led the others up the hill towards them and David told them what Kemon had learned.
“Lord Grekan would never dare,” Falaise said. “I’ve only met him a couple of times but he didn’t strike me as the sort of man who would risk everything on a gamble like this.”
“He might, if he thought he had nothing to lose. If he bends the knee to Lord Jeren, he will lose some of his authority over his people which, from what I’ve heard, will not please him. So, if his authority is going to diminish anyway, why not risk the lot and go for the bigger prize. At the very least we have to take some precautions against the possibility until we can establish Jeren’s claim to the throne.”
“How are you going to do that?” Falaise enquired. “Jeren already is the heir by blood.”
“Agreed
and if Grekan marries you, he might continue to be the heir for a while. Until Grekan dies or he fathers another child on you.”
There was a little gasp of shock and Falaise covered her mouth with a hand as she considered that possibility.
“I’m sorry to be so blunt, my lady. But we need to prove Jeren’s claim beyond any doubt and in a way that will leave Grekan with no room for manoeuver.
“What do you propose?”
“Firstly we need to protect Jeren. Feynor, if you agree, I am going to promote Jacob here to the rank of sergeant. I want the two of you to pick out four men and you Jacob, will ensure that two of them are awake and within ten paces of Lord Jeren at all times, day and night.”
“Now wait a minute,” Jeren protested. “I don’t need a nursemaid.”
“Say that again and you’ll get my hand across the back of your head, prince or no prince,” Jacob growled.
“Sorry, Jacob,” Jeren apologised. “It’s just that….”
“…. you can look after yourself,” David finished. “Yes, I know you can in single combat but how many opponents can you take on at one time? Two? Four? Six? You will take the bodyguards, my lord and hopefully it will only be for twenty four hours until this whole thing is resolved.”
“You still haven’t said what you are going to do,” Falaise said.
“Tomorrow I’m going to work a magic, a very powerful magic and for that I need a lock of Jeren’s hair.”
“What!” Jeren exclaimed. “This is crazy. What exactly are you going to do?”
“I can’t tell you that right now, Jeren. You’re just going to have to trust me. And anyway, you could do with a haircut.”
***
The attack had come an hour before dawn. There were six of them and they were good. David had doubled the patrols around the base of the hill but they still managed to slip through. The night was dark with clouds blocking the light from both the moons but the attackers still took advantage of every scrap of cover they could find as they crept silently across the wet grass towards Jeren’s tent.