“Exactly!” said Oressa.
Kelian started to answer, a sharp response judging by his expression, but Gulien held up a hand abruptly and cut him off. There was a pause, while Gulien looked at Oressa and then at Gajdosik and then, for a long time, at nothing: the dust hazing the air, the sweep of an eagle through the empty sky.
At last Gulien turned back to them. He met Gajdosik’s eyes and asked in a clear, low voice, “Prince Gajdosik, if I wish to take your officers and men into battle, will they take orders from mine?” He paused and then asked even more quietly, “Will you take orders from me?”
Gajdosik drew breath to answer, but Oressa said swiftly, before he could, “No, Gulien. It has to be the other way around!”
Everyone stared at her. Mostly they just looked shocked. Prince Gajdosik, too, stared at her. He had paled. Oressa did not know why. His expression was no longer exactly neutral, but it was impossible to read.
“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” she said. “Well, it is! I mean, you have to decide what to do, Gulien, but when it comes to actually putting this plan into motion, well, which of us has had recent successful experience invading and conquering Caras with a small force of Tamaristan soldiers? Well?”
Gulien began, “Oressa—”
Oressa said firmly, “Prince Gajdosik’s men are ours. They’re allies, or at least they’re not enemies. If there’s fighting, they’ll be on our side. I mean, there aren’t exactly any other sides they can possibly be on anymore. Not only does Gajdosik have a lot more men, but his are experienced soldiers. They’ve done this before. Ours are mostly city guardsmen, not even militia, and they may be good, but that isn’t the same! That means the question is, will our people take orders from his? And I think they will, to save Caras.”
Kelian started to make a sharp rejoinder, but Gulien again put up a hand to stop him. Gulien looked at Kelian and then at Oressa and finally turned once more to Gajdosik. He began to say something but then visibly changed his mind. Oressa could see he truly did not know what to do.
Then the Tamaristan prince dropped to one knee. He said formally, “Your Highness, if you will permit me tactical command during this crisis, I swear to you I will do my best to serve your interests and the interests of your country.”
“Prince Gajdosik—”
“Your Highness. In this crisis, your goals and mine align precisely. I would prefer to see you king of Carastind rather than your father. Above all I do not want my brother to take power here. A divided command will not serve. I will take your orders if I must. But I beg you will command your people to take mine.” Gajdosik bowed his head and waited. His hands, folded across his knee, were open and relaxed, but the muscles in his back and neck were taut.
“Gulien!” said Oressa. She wanted to remind them both that all the Tamaristan soldiers were hers anyway. Only she knew it wouldn’t help. It didn’t even matter whether it was true or not: What mattered was what kind of alliance Gulien and Prince Gajdosik worked out between them, and if they couldn’t work something out, then they might as well send to her father or Bherijda or whoever currently held Caras, asking for terms. It wasn’t fair. It didn’t even make sense except if you were a man, but she knew it was true. She waited, all but holding her breath.
“Your Highness,” Gulien said at last. “For the duration of this crisis, please do me the favor of assuming tactical command.”
Gajdosik’s head came up. Rising smoothly to his feet, he swung around and stared back over their mixed company with focused intensity, clearly already assigning each man to a plan he held in his mind. Well, Oressa realized, that was ridiculous. Nobody could possibly have come up with a plan as fast as that—
“We have several advantages,” Prince Gajdosik said crisply. “Surprise may well be one of them. We won’t depend on it, but we’ll certainly encourage it. Juranda,” he said to one of his own people, “give the men a ten-minute warning: We’ll ride out at once. Rearm our people and make sure everyone has a full water flask. You, Fellin, how far from here to the next farm with a good well?”
“Uh . . .” The man was taken aback, but rallied quickly. “Not far—there’s a farm less than an hour’s ride on. Um, m’lord.”
“We’ll fill the flasks again there,” Gajdosik said to his officer, and waved the man away. He went on to Gulien. “We do need to send men north to the rest of my people. Some of my men, and some of yours, also, Your Highness. They must explain what’s passed here and bring my people to Caras.”
“Impossible!” snapped Kelian. “Men in a mixed company will spend so much time brawling with one another, they won’t notice if half a thousand scorpion soldiers meet them on the way!”
“Mattin won’t brawl, or allow his people to quarrel with the Tamaristans,” Oressa said sharply, with a glance for the sergeant, who came forward a step in acknowledgment and gave them all a stolid little nod. It was indeed impossible to imagine the sergeant allowing any nonsense of that sort, and though Kelian opened his mouth to argue, he obviously couldn’t find the words because he shut it again without speaking.
“Fellin can go with them, too,” Oressa said, beckoning to the man. “That’ll be an easier ride, at least at first, and he can explain in more detail just what’s been happening in Caras. He won’t brawl with Gajdosik’s man, either. Or, at least, if he doesn’t keep his mind on business,” she added warningly, “I’ll tell his wife the real truth about that summer he spent in Little Caras.”
Fellin winced. Kelian looked taken aback. Gulien cast his eyes heavenward and sighed. Gajdosik lifted an eyebrow and nearly smiled.
“And Laasat can go,” Oressa added, ignoring them all. “And a handful of Tamaristans so our peoples can start getting used to each other.”
“That will do,” agreed Gajdosik. He went on, speaking to Gulien. “Though we won’t deliberately send word to Caras, I’d ordinarily expect news of our coming to run before us right to the palace doors. Some word certainly will, but with the immense confusion of recent days, it should be impossible for anyone to know what to believe.” He turned to Kelian. “Take down Prince Gulien’s banners,” he ordered.
“Your Highness—” Kelian looked at Gulien.
“Do as he says,” Gulien snapped, and glanced at Oressa as the man reluctantly left to carry out his orders. It was a faintly accusing glance. Oressa shrugged apologetically. Who’d have thought Kelian would be so halfhearted about everything? How could she not have noticed this about him before? It was hard to believe she’d ever thought running off to marry him would be a good idea. She was glad she hadn’t tried it: He’d have been impossible to get moving.
“If he doesn’t accept our decision, we’ll be forced to replace him,” said Gajdosik, adding to Gulien, “But it would be best to keep a stable chain of command if we can. Ah, good, Umank, there you are. Find some green cloth and tack together a decent copy of my brother’s scorpion. Yes, you must do it while we ride; you shall have to contrive—the banners needn’t fool a close examination.”
“Well, that’s good,” said the officer he addressed, and hurried away.
“Now—” Gajdosik reached out absently to accept his horse’s rein as someone brought the animal up, and swung into the saddle. All his earlier weakness seemed to have passed off, or he had set it aside by a sheer effort of will. “Now, Gulien,” he went on. “Once we get to Caras, we’ll find half our battle already fought. Our enemies might ardently desire to keep track of men entering and leaving the city, but the task is impossible. No one will have a clear idea who should be where or be able to distinguish strangers from citizens.”
“You . . . We’ll go straight in, then?” Gulien asked. He must have noticed, as Oressa had, that Prince Gajdosik was now addressing him simply by name, but he didn’t comment. He seemed, more than anything, relieved at Gajdosik’s confidence. Oressa certainly found the Tamaristan prince a pleasure to watch, now that he was moving again. She had a buoyant hope that Gajdosik and her brother really would be able to work together. She found
herself believing that they could defeat her father—compared to him she barely remembered Gajdosik’s brother—and that even now everything might work out. And surely neither Gulien nor Gajdosik would be able to turn against each other after this.
“The objective now, as it has always been, is control of the palace and of certain important persons. Long-term physical control of the city must be impossible for Bherijda for exactly the same reason it would have been impossible for me: He can’t have enough men. His position depends on controlling Osir, or else he must depend on your father’s goodwill.”
Oressa made a scornful sound at the idea that anyone could possibly depend on her father’s goodwill. She nudged her horse into a faster gait to keep up with the two men.
“Now,” Gajdosik went on, ignoring her, “my brother will be dangerous and his men may prove an obstacle, but it’s possible your father’s supporters will also prove intractable. Gulien, I believe we can get past Bherijda and take control of the palace, but you must have some clear idea how you will then counter your father’s influence. You must consider this as we ride.”
Gulien nodded. They splashed across the shallow river, riding into the westering sun. It wouldn’t be so very long until dark, but Oressa guessed they wouldn’t stop before they got to Terand and maybe not then. At least the moon was nearly full. She asked, fascinated by Gajdosik’s swift decisions, “Yes, and about taking the palace?”
“We’ll divide our forces,” Gajdosik said briskly. “I hate to do it, because we haven’t enough men even if we all stay together, but we’ve no choice. Gulien, once we get close to Caras, I’m going to want a small group of Carastindin men to carry your banner toward the main gates. They’ll offer Bherijda misleading information, or Osir if necessary. Or both. These must be loyal men, but they needn’t number more than half a dozen.” His eyes glinted with sudden humor, though he didn’t smile. “It would be best if they’ve a taste for practical jokes. Perhaps Her Highness can suggest suitable men.”
“Of course,” Oressa assured him. She took a deep breath, gathered her nerve, and added, “I can do better: I’ll go with them. No, listen, it’s a good idea! Whoever’s at the gates will know me; if I’m there, it won’t occur to anybody there’s a trick. I can make Bherijda believe anything you want—I can even make Father believe anything you want.” She hesitated, finding herself less confident about that than she’d expected once she put it into words. “Well,” she said, “I think I can, anyway! As long as he doesn’t have reason to be suspicious. Anyway, I’ll have a better chance than anybody else. I’ll say Gulien’s still in the Kieba’s mountain. I’ll say she’s teaching him to use remnants of god-magic; that’ll drop a hawk among the pigeons—”
“This is all completely out of the question,” Gulien declared.
“We can’t possibly risk you!” Gajdosik said at the same moment.
Oressa half wanted to say, Oh, all right, then, never mind. Instead, she gave them both a scornful glare, pretending she wasn’t in the least worried, because she knew she was right. “What perfect nonsense. Nobody will hurt me on purpose: I’m a valuable commodity, remember?”
“Indeed,” said Gajdosik grimly. “You will therefore immediately ride back to that farm below the Kieba’s mountain and stay there.”
“A much better idea!” agreed Gulien.
“No, it isn’t! It’s ridiculous,” declared Oressa. “I’m no use to anybody if I’m stuck hiding on some farm, and you know it, too, O great tactician Your Highness Gajdosik! You know I’m right, and if you try to leave me behind, I’ll follow you; and you can’t spare men to guard me either, so don’t make threats you don’t intend to carry out!”
“Your Highness,” Gajdosik said sharply, “you promised to obey my orders.”
Oressa raised her eyebrows. “I most certainly did not, Your Highness. Gulien promised to have our men obey your orders. Besides, if you get to be tactical commander, hadn’t you better think tactically?”
Pressed beyond patience, Gajdosik reined his horse to a halt so suddenly that it nearly reared. He snapped, with no pretense of civility at all, “Fool of a woman, you are not going to put yourself into my brother’s hands! You are indeed valuable! Even if Bherijda doesn’t realize Gulien is in the city, he will know quite well he can use you to establish his own claim to Carastind!”
Gulien’s mouth crooked, not without sympathy. He advised Gajdosik, “It’s not that you’re wrong, but you’ll find it’s very little use to tell Oressa what she may and may not do. Or she’d hardly be here with us now, would she?”
“But it certainly worked out for the best, didn’t it? Your Highness, I won’t be a hostage,” Oressa assured Gajdosik, deliberately blithe. “That’s exactly what Bherijda will think, I’m sure. He’ll lock me up somewhere, no doubt, but I’ll get out whenever I want. Gulien, tell him.”
There was a pause. Gulien very clearly thought about not telling Gajdosik anything of the sort, and Oressa gave her brother a warning stare, meaning that she really would follow them if they tried to leave her behind. That must have been clear, because at last he said, reluctantly, “Oressa knows the palace better than anyone. All the hidden doors and things that Bherijda can’t possibly know about.”
“Hidden doors?” asked Kelian, riding nearby. “Really?”
“Secret doors and passages are everywhere in the palace. There’s nowhere Bherijda can lock me up,” Oressa declared.
Gajdosik gave Oressa a long look, perhaps remembering how his men had caught her in the first place.
“Besides, you really do need me to do this, and you know it. It might be different if you had days to arrange things, but you don’t, and we have to have things go right the first time because there won’t be a second chance. There’s no point in arguing. You must know you’ll have to agree with me at the end.”
Gajdosik, who had opened his mouth, closed it again without speaking.
“Good, then,” said Oressa. She started her horse moving again, compelling the men to come after her or be left behind. She pretended to be satisfied and brave and not the least bit uncertain. “That’s settled, then,” she declared. “Meanwhile, I guess you’ll get in through the broken places in the wall, sneak around to the west, and then come up from the harbor flying scorpion and eagle banners? That’s a good idea because you’re right—absolutely nobody will know for sure who you are or that you’re not really Bherijda’s or Maranajdis’s men. Well, except for Bherijda, I guess, but I’m sure you have something figured out for when you get that far.”
Oressa knew she was right, but after the arguing stopped and she started thinking about riding boldly up to the gates and announcing herself to Bherijda’s soldiers, she started getting nervous again. She almost wanted Gulien or Gajdosik to pick up the argument again and this time win. Only they couldn’t, because she really was right and they really did need her to play her role exactly the way she’d said.
But it got more frightening to think about as they got closer to Caras. They stopped only when they absolutely had to, so their second dawn on the road found them not so very far away from Caras. Oressa had never been so tired or sore in her life, except then she started thinking about facing Gajdosik’s brother and her own father, and that made her so nervous she could ignore her stiffness and exhaustion.
Gajdosik mostly rode aside with Gulien, talking to him about the rest of the plan where Oressa couldn’t hear. He said flatly, daring her to change her mind, that this was because if she was going to be a hostage even briefly, she had better know as little as possible. She rolled her eyes with exaggerated scorn to show him she knew he was trying to scare her and, pretending she felt not the faintest flicker of nervousness or doubt, dropped back to ride with the small group of Carastindin soldiers she’d chosen to join her in the deception. Kelian, too, because he had insisted on joining her: Oressa guessed he must have decided he had to protect her, and maybe he’d even begun to like the plan. She’d chosen four other men: Maki and Kevan, and B
ig Fellin, who was naturally a much smaller man than the other Fellin, and Evad, who was famous for brawling in taverns without ever getting caught starting the fights.
“It’s my innocent looks,” he said, gesturing to indicate his much-battered brawler’s face, and they all laughed, even Kelian, though he was still inclined to be a little stiff.
“Everybody needs to look as innocent as Evad,” Oressa emphasized. “We’ve all been to the Kieba’s mountain, and Gulien’s still there, and we never saw the faintest glimpse of Prince Gajdosik or any Tamaristan, and we have no idea what’s been happening in Caras—I guess that’s even true—but as long as the Kieba doesn’t object, it’s fine with us!”
“We’re shocked, shocked to find Prince Bherijda in the city,” put in Big Fellin, who really did have a love for sly jokes. “But if King Osir thinks allying with Bherijda is a good idea, well, anything the king supports, we’re all for it.”
“Exactly!” said Oressa. She gave Big Fellin a sidelong glance, thinking that maybe this would all work perfectly after all.
Then they came around a curve of the road and looked down the long slope of the drylands that ran down toward the sea, and there was Caras before them, and the gates with the merciless sun shining on the wrecked wall beyond, and all at once Oressa wasn’t tired at all, and everything seemed suddenly to be moving much too fast.
“Be careful,” Gulien told her before she took her little group away from the main company. His tone made it clear he knew this was hopeless advice. He added, trying to smile, “Stay off roofs if people start blowing things up!”
“You worry too much! I never fall,” Oressa told her brother with a bravado she tried hard to really feel. She added in a whisper, leaning from the saddle to embrace him, “You’ll be doing the hard part. You be careful too.”
“You don’t even know what we’ll be doing!” Gulien said in mock outrage. “Unless you’ve been sneaking around, listening where you shouldn’t!”
“No, but I can guess.” She let him go and straightened. “Be careful—be safe—I’ll see you in the palace.” She blinked hard and didn’t wail, It’s not fair. We’ve done so much. Why can’t we just go home and have everything be over?
The Mountain of Kept Memory Page 29