by Martin Owton
No-one had any questions so Walter showed them into the barrack room; a double line of two-storey wooden bunks ran the length of it, sleeping space for fifty soldiers.
“There’s a wet room through there for washing and drying your gear.” He pointed to a door at the far end of the room. “Beyond it is a bath house. You are expected to wash regularly. See you all tomorrow.”
“This is an impressive set up,” said Maldwyn. “It’s better than the lodging we have in Nandor.”
“Tis that, my Lord,” said Thomi. “They got running water in the wet room.”
“This is so unlike what I was expecting,” said Maldwyn. “From the stories I’d heard about Keshan, I thought there would be a corpse on every street corner, whores everywhere and fighting in every tavern.”
“I heard similar stories,” said Aron. “But think about it. For the companies, it would be bad for business. The most effective armies are those with the best discipline. If you can’t control the city you own, how is it going to look?”
Maldwyn nodded in agreement. “There are some lessons here.”
“They say that you can buy anything here,” said Edith.
“I think that’s true,” said Aron. “Provided you have the money and know the right people.”
“And providing the Duke of Caldon hasn’t bought it first,” said Maldwyn.
***
“Ship’s in. They’re unloading now. You’ll be sailing with the tide this afternoon,” said Lorcan. “Get your kit together and get back to the gatehouse doublequick. You’ll march down to the docks immediately.”
Aron glanced at the heavy cloud building on the horizon and groaned inwardly; they looked likely to be in for a rough passage.
They collected their gear from the dormitory and assembled at the gatehouse.
“You’re now going out into the world as members of this distinguished and honourable Company.” Lorcan puffed out his already deep chest. From a sack at his feet he drew out surcoats of green and gold. “You will wear these with pride and you will honour them. If you don’t you’ll answer to me.”
He passed them out, one to each of them. “Now you’re properly dressed, we march.”
They formed up in a double column, Edith beside Aron. Two more men had passed the company trial the day before so it was a squad of eight that marched down to the docks in the midday sunshine. They attracted a few good-natured jeers from men wearing the livery of other companies.
“Eyes front. Don’t answer. Keep in step,” snapped Lorcan glaring fiercely at the path ahead.
They were passing through a crowded marketplace when Edith suddenly broke step and twisted away from the column.
“Get back in line,” ordered Lorcan.
“What’s the matter?” asked Aron as Edith came back.
“I saw Tancred.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The headland of Cuiport came into view as the ship cleared the point and turned to run before the brisk westerly into the bay. Aron, Maldwyn and Edith stood at the rail as the crew hurried to reduce sail.
“It’s going to be a big place when they’ve finished it,” said Maldwyn.
“I’d say so,” said Aron. The entire headland had been cleared of the trees and scrub that covered most of the coast they had seen so far. A palisade of wooden stakes cut across the neck of the low headland, a wall of stone was rising to replace it amidst a web of scaffolding. Behind the palisade rows of tents and raw wooden huts marched across the bare earth. Men marched and drilled in open spaces, smoke rose from two dozen or more points.
“Still vulnerable to assault from the sea,” said Maldwyn. “They’ll need to reinforce the defences on the seaward side.”
“Quite right.” Aron smiled. Maldwyn was learning.
“Is that where Celaine is?” asked Edith.
“I expect so,” said Aron. “In one of those.” He pointed to a cluster of large wooden buildings sheltering behind a second wooden barrier.
“How’re we going to get her out?” Edith stared at the buildings as if she could tear them down by sheer force of will.
“I don’t know,” said Aron. “There will be a way.”
But it is getting her away from here and back to Keshan that perplexes me.
The ship turned again, rigging creaking, to approach one of the two wooden piers that reached out into the bay. Two ships were moored at the second pier, one being loaded with wooden casks rolled up the gangplank by teams of men.
“What do you think is in the barrels?” asked Maldwyn.
“Refined silver ore would be my guess,” said Aron.
“That’s a lot of barrels,” said Maldwyn.
“Caldon needs all of it and more,” said Aron. “Financing this must be costing a king’s ransom every year.”
The ship edged slowly up to the unoccupied pier and moored bow and stern. Two gangplanks were thrown down and a dozen or so men came aboard. One, a tall powerfully-built man, wore the green and gold surcoat of the Company. At the head of the gangplank he looked around, caught sight of their green and gold and walked briskly over.
His hard-eyed gaze slid briefly over Aron and Maldwyn and halted on Edith. Aron prepared himself for the argument, but it never came.
“I’m Granna, Lieutenant of the Company,” he said. “Is this all Lorcan can send us?”
“There’s five others down below,” said Maldwyn. Playing dice Aron suspected.
“Fetch ‘em up then,” said Granna.
Maldwyn hurried to fetch them. Granna looked at Edith again. “I hope you know what you’ve let yourselves in for. This is no place for the faint-hearted.”
“Hard campaigning?” asked Aron.
“The hardest I’ve known.” Granna replied with a grimace. He turned to lean on the rail and stared landward to the hills that faded into the cloud. “Hostile terrain, damnable weather and an enemy that melts into the mist before you can get close to them.”
Thomi, Yirg, Haas and the other two clattered onto the deck followed a moment later by Maldwyn. Granna ran his eye over them and looked slightly more pleased.
“Let’s get up to the Company compound. Follow me.”
Aron and Edith gathered up their packs that Maldwyn had brought up and followed after Granna. They couldn’t march through the confusion of carts, sweating cursing labourers, stacks of barrels, crates and sacks, so they wove their way up from the dockside and climbed the muddy track to the main camp.
The main camp was more ordered but equally busy and muddy. Granna lead them past rows of wooden huts with goods being counted in, workshops where hammers rang on metal and stone and sawpits where men sawed great logs into planks and lanes of canvas tents with men lounging outside.
They passed two fenced-off areas of huts and tents guarded by men-at-arms in the livery of other companies before they reached the green and gold of their own company. The guards saluted Granna and ran their eyes over each new member of their company as they passed. Aron gave a little nod of respect as they caught his eye. He turned to see their reaction to Edith, but it seemed no different.
Granna took them into the heart of the Company camp past forges where armourers hammered and the cookhouse where great pots steamed on charcoal ranges under canvas awnings to a collection of wooden sheds. At the end shed a pile of coarse woollen blankets and canvas mattresses stood ready.
“Take one each,” instructed Granna. “Nights are cold here, we need you fit to fight.”
Aron picked up two mattresses; straw-filled by the feel, and handed one to Edith. “This is a good set-up,” he said quietly to Edith. “Most soldiers sleep on the ground wrapped in their cloaks.”
Their blankets and mattresses collected, Granna led them to a line of large canvas tents closed-up against the weather, halted outside one and unlaced the mouth.
“This is your lodging for the time being. The rest of the Company are up country or out on patrol. You’ll be fed when the patrols return, then the Captain will see you.”
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“I should try and find Celaine tonight,” said Edith as they watched Granna march away. “Maybe I can tell her we’re here.”
“I agree,” said Maldwyn. “It would be good to know where she is. And she’ll be glad to know we’re close.”
Tonight then,” said Aron. He turned to look at the other two men who had been billeted with them. Both were stocky and deep-chested with the look of hardened soldiers, one had a livid scar across his face from hairline to chin. Neither had spoken to them during the voyage and now they stared back at him with flat hostility. Aron looked away, not wishing to provoke a confrontation. What’s wrong here? I’ve not even spoken to them, but they look ready to fight. Getting the quiet Edith needs tonight to walk the mist could be a problem with them.
They carried their mattresses, blankets and packs into the dim interior and laid them at the far end. The hostile pair laid theirs beside the entrance as far away as possible from the Nandor party and quickly vanished outside.
“What’s wrong with them?” asked Edith.
“No idea,” said Aron. “But they look like trouble.”
“I’m sure you can handle them,” said Edith.
Probably, but I’ve got enough things on my plate without them adding to it.
Aron went back outside and looked out over the camp westwards where the weather was coming from; heavy clouds were massing out on the horizon, there would be more rain before dark.
“We should take a look round the camp while we still can,” he said.
There were nods of agreement all round and the six of them walked back to the mudbath that was the spine road of the camp. They walked towards the sea, avoiding the worst puddles, Caldon’s army all around them. They passed an area of stables and paddocks where cavalry riders drilled in formation, and many more lines of huts and tents.
They were almost at the secondary palisade that protected the headquarters buildings when Aron saw them. The leather waistcoats, worn even in this climate, and the long dark hair were unmistakeable. He stood immobile in the middle of the road and stared, remembering a sunlit street in the Holy City last summer; Saxish clansmen.
They had their own area just like the Company. Just like the Company, they are hired to Caldon. They served him against Darien, why wouldn’t they still serve him? These must be the betrayers of Darien. I’ve not heard of any other clansmen come west. I wonder if Tentra still leads them, or is he gone to his fathers years ago? And that painted bastard shaman? A hot flame of revenge lit in his heart at the thought of them within reach.
An angry yell from a carter broke into Aron’s thoughts of revenge and he had to leap out of the way of a wagon loaded with barrels before he was run down. He collected himself and found all five of the Nandor party staring at him.
“What were you looking at?” asked Maldwyn.
“Who are those men?” asked Haas.
“Saxish clansmen,” said Aron. “Traitors and murderers.”
He turned away from them. It wasn’t really any of their business and he didn’t want to show them the strength of his feelings.
They followed the wagon through the mud to the gate of the headquarters compound. The guard looked at them sourly.
“Tavern’s not open yet,” he said.
“Just want to see where it is,” said Aron.
“Up the way there.” He pointed to a long low building of rough-cut logs with a dozen benches stacked against the walls where the wagon was unloading its barrels.
“What’s the place next to it?” asked Maldwyn. He pointed to the two storey house with a pair of sentries at the door.
“The Duke’s House,” said the guard. “You don’t need to know anything about that. You won’t be going there.”
The door of the Duke’s House opened and two men emerged. The sentries snapped to attention and saluted as the men strolled past heading towards the main headquarters building.
Aron turned away from the gate and led the Nandor party back towards their area of the camp.
“Is that where you think she is then?” asked Edith, once they were out of earshot of the guard.
“Very likely,” said Aron.
“We need to get in there then,” said Maldwyn.
“Or at least find a way of getting in,” said Aron. “There’s no point in getting her out until we can get right away.” He turned to Edith. “All the more reason why you should walk the mist tonight. She needs to know we’re here and be ready to move.”
They made their way back to their tent where their two hostile comrades greeted them with hard stares.
“I don’t like the way they look at me,” said Edith quietly, when they reached their sleeping area.
“Maybe we should have a word with them,” said Maldwyn.
A commotion outside forestalled further discussion; they moved to the mouth of the tent to see a dozen or so men in muddied green and gold walking wearily up to the tents.
“Welcome to the legion of the lost,” called one in the accent of The Holy City. They halted at the tent beside the Nandor group, unlaced the entrance flaps and went inside.
Aron looked down to the compound entrance; another larger group of men-at-arms were coming in. Heavy clouds covered the sun, the gloom already darkening towards dusk. From the cookhouse a bell rang, summoning the company to eat.
The Nandor party joined the line stretching out of the canvas mess tent to receive wooden bowls of mutton stew and hunks of fresh-baked bread. They found places together at a long wooden table. A few of the soldiers looked at them incuriously, but most ate and bantered in their groups.
“This is better than we get at home,” said Haas, quietly to Aron making sure Maldwyn couldn’t hear him.
“I agree,” said Aron. “This is as good as any field kitchen I’ve eaten in.”
They had just finished when Granna came into the tent, accompanying him was a stocky man with a lined face and dark thinning hair.
“New arrivals gather round,” ordered Granna. There was a short period of disorder as the experienced soldiers exited and the new arrivals gathered.
“Welcome to the company’s service,” said the stocky man. “I am Captain Elthorn. I am the company’s commander in this campaign. As I hope you’ve already seen, we aim to look after you well while you serve with us. In return we expect high standards of conduct whether you’re here in camp or out in the field. You will obey the officers of the company without question. There will be no drunkenness or brawling, offenders will face a loss of wages or a flogging. In return, we promise to do our best to keep you alive, and pay you what you’re due. There is plenty to keep us busy here. Currently our main jobs are protecting the mines and the mule trains that supply them. More aggressive campaigning is likely as we move into summer. I know you have all passed a test with Lorcan back in Keshan, and if there is time to train you more then we will use it, but we are hard-pressed. It is likely you will be deployed within the week. Any questions?”
“Does it ever stop raining?” asked someone behind Aron.
“Hasn’t done since I’ve been here,” said Captain Elthorn.
No-one else had any questions so the meeting broke up. Aron took the opportunity to beg a mug of hot water from the cooks so he could steep the mushrooms for the mist-walking. When they got back to the tent a game of dice was already underway by lantern light. They sat down on their beds at the rear of the tent. Aron took half a handful of the mushrooms they had bought in Keshan from his pack and added them to the hot water.
“We’d best leave it until well past midnight before you try,” he said quietly to Edith. “Now is likely to be the busiest time for the Duke’s House. Just hope she’s asleep later.”
Edith was asleep by the time the dice players ended their game and doused the lantern. Aron waited until they had settled down to sleep before he woke her.
“Time to walk the mist,” he whispered, and placed the barely warm mug in her hands.
Edith drank it down without a word,
passed the mug back and settled herself on her bed.
“Hold my hand,” she said. “It’ll help me find my way back.”
Aron took her hand and sat in the dark listening to her breathing and wondering what she would find. There was no chance that Celaine would be unharmed by now; the only question was how badly she had been treated. His heart burned at the thought of what she was suffering. If I had chosen to stay in Nandor this would not have happened.
Edith gasped and gripped his hand. What has she found? Perhaps I should have risked the mist.
Beside him Maldwyn shifted and began to snore. Even if we can get Celaine out of the Duke’s House, I can’t see a way of getting us home. The only ships that call here are those Caldon controls. I need a plan and soon. They could send us up country any day.
No plan revealed itself as the watches of the night slipped by; the best he could come up with was follow the coast back to Keshan. That would be hard travelling even if Celaine was fully fit, and she wouldn’t be.
Rain squalls thrashed at the tent, Maldwyn snored and Aron waited. Some time just before dawn Edith squeezed his hand.
“Are you awake?” she whispered.
Aron squeezed her hand in reply. “Did you find her?”
“She’s in the house, but I couldn’t talk to her.” She released his hand. “She wouldn’t wake up.”
“Drugged?” Aron remembered the milk of the poppy he had been dosed with last summer; he hoped no-one remembered anything he’d said then.
“I don’t know. I waited a long time, but I didn't get anything from her.”
“Did you look around the house?”
“Her room’s on the top floor. She’s on her own though there’s another bed in there. I didn’t see any guards inside the building at all. Downstairs the rooms are much bigger and nicer, there’s a bath house at one end with a separate door that’s not guarded.”
“That sounds promising. Any other guards?”
“Just the two at the front. We have to get her out. They’re hurting her.”