Artesans of Albia: 02 - King's Champion

by Cas Peace

  Schooling his features to hide his fear, Taran slowed.

  Impassively, Blaine approached. His expression was as stern as ever, his demeanor gave nothing away. Taran often wondered whether he fostered this façade deliberately or whether it was natural to his character. He couldn’t decide. When the General stopped in front of Taran, he inclined his head.

  “Adept Elijah.”

  Taran returned the greeting, trying to suppress the urge to salute. He wasn’t under this man’s authority, yet Blaine’s natural air of command seemed to demand respect. Taran thought he caught a glimmer of amusement in Blaine’s hard blue eyes.

  “Has that Apprentice of yours calmed down yet after his success?”

  Taran was surprised. The General’s tone was conversational, his opening subject casual. This wasn’t what Taran had expected. Though Blaine was an Artesan and hadn’t taken much persuading to participate in Cal’s testing, Taran had always accepted that Blaine had no real interest in them. He was General-in-Command, personally responsible for all matters pertaining to the High King’s military forces. He had far more important concerns than three troublesome civilians. Yet, thought Taran, perhaps he was wrong? He decided to put his impressions aside and take this unexpected moment at face value. No doubt Blaine would get to the point before long.

  “It took a while, sir, but I think so. It meant a lot to him to have a Master confirm his status. Neither of us has had much in the way of support or encouragement in recent years.”

  “So I gather. It must have been very hard for you.”

  Taran frowned. This conversation felt surreal. What was the man after?

  “Yes, sir. Harder than I care to remember.”

  “Still, you’ve made good progress, both of you. Neither of you took long to reach the next rank. It takes more than a talented teacher to bring powers along that fast.”

  “We did our best, sir.”

  Taran’s puzzlement continued to grow. He was sure Blaine was fishing, but for what, he couldn’t think. If there was something the General wanted to know, why didn’t he come right out and ask? He didn’t seem like the diffident type. Studying his face in the growing sunlight, Taran tried to read behind the expressionless eyes. The General’s next statement stunned him.

  “So your father must have done something right.”

  Taran gaped. He never had the slightest suspicion that Blaine knew who he was, and Sullyan had said she hadn’t told him. So had the General known all along, or had he since remembered his interview with Amanus and his reaction to the man’s request?

  Blaine smiled at Taran’s reaction, his entire demeanor changing. Now Taran felt companionship radiating from him, and it threw him completely off-balance. This was turning out to be a strange conversation indeed.

  “Ah,” said the General. “You thought I didn’t know who you were.”

  Taran reddened. “You’re right, sir. How long have you known?”

  “I have many responsibilities, Adept, and my attention is necessarily spread over many areas. One of the consequences of my position is the development of an excellent memory. I rarely forget a face or a name, and your family name is not common.”

  Taran lowered his eyes. “You’ve known from the start, then. Major Sullyan gave me the impression you didn’t.”

  There was a slight pause.

  “Then she should have known better.”

  Blaine’s voice had hardened and Taran glanced at him. The General’s eyes were bleak and cold and he turned his face away. The Adept remembered this same reaction when he had mentioned Sullyan’s name after Cal’s testing. He also recalled what Bull had told them of the General’s leave-taking at Marik’s mansion. Taran guessed that Mathias Blaine was a man who scorned to show his emotions. Perhaps it was another consequence of his post.

  The General sighed and faced him once more. “I have to say you’re not much like your father.”

  It was such an obvious avoidance of a painful subject that Taran’s opinion of the man underwent a radical change. He smiled. “I’m glad to hear you say so.”

  “If you had been, I doubt I’d be so willing to allow you and your friends to stay.”

  Taran’s heart skipped and he shot the General a look, not wanting to take his meaning for granted. Blaine correctly interpreted the look and smiled again, although coldness still lingered in his eyes.

  “I don’t suffer fools gladly, it’s true, but neither am I completely insensitive. I am aware of your feelings, Taran Elijah, and I’m not just talking about your desire for training.”

  Heat rose in Taran’s face. He hadn’t imagined that Blaine would know anything at all about his personal feelings. The General carried on, ignoring Taran’s discomfort.

  “We also have unfinished business in the matter of your artifact, and I wouldn’t have asked you to leave until it’s been resolved. With Captain Tamsen absent”—his voice caught, but he plowed on—“we can’t make headway there, so I wanted you to know that you’re all welcome to stay until he returns. The Major told me you’d be concerned about the future. It seems she was right.”

  Taran stared, stunned yet again. “She said that? When was this?”

  Blaine’s eyes clouded, and Taran knew he was forcing down painful memories.

  “The last time I saw her.” He moved swiftly on before Taran could speak again. “Be free with our facilities while you’re here, Adept, and don’t hesitate to ask Hal Bullen for guidance or instruction. Your Healer Arlen has more than compensated us for any costs your stay might incur. She’s very talented, so Hanan tells me.”

  “But she’s being paid, sir. She’s drawing a captain’s pay.”

  “I am aware of that, Adept! The offer stands. It’s up to you how you use it. Now I must go. It’s cold out here and I need to wash. No doubt we will speak again.”

  The General stalked away and Taran stood staring after him, his thoughts chaotic. He shivered. The rising sun had stirred a bitter wind. The movement brought him back to himself and he shook his head, mulling over what he had heard. The General’s words might not have solved the problem of his long-term future, but at least his mind could rest easy for the present.

  Eager to tell his friends the good news—and to see Rienne smile again—Taran hurried back to their rooms.

  * * * * *

  Dressed for combat and wearing heavy cloaks against the freezing wind, Sullyan, Robin and Marik carried their packs down to the horse lines. The lower Citadel was buzzing with activity. Theirs wasn’t the only company leaving that day. Lord General Anjer had come up with a strategy to cause maximum damage to Rykan’s marching troops with minimum losses to the Hierarch’s. Sullyan and her band were to head out toward the southwest flank of Rykan’s forces and stay there as long as they could. Three supply trains were already in the field, although each band would carry as much as they could.

  On arriving at the horse lines, Sullyan was pleased to see Ky-shan and his men already there. There seemed to be an argument going on, so she and Robin strode over to see what was wrong. The stocky pirate was swearing at the horse master while repeatedly jabbing a thick finger at some of the beasts selected for his band. He turned furiously to Sullyan as she approached.

  “Lady, this idiot has let Vanyr take back some of the mounts you selected for us. He won’t listen to me.”

  The horse master, a small, slight man with a receding hairline and harassed demeanor, spread his hands. “I can’t gainsay the Commander, Lady, not without a direct order from the Lord General.”

  Sullyan faced him coldly. “You have already seen the Lord General’s authorization, man. What more do you want?”

  “I want you to be here when Commander Vanyr comes looking for his horses!”

  She rolled her eyes. She didn’t need obstructions like this. “Where are the horses I chose?” When the horse master indicated a corral, she realized that the horses in question were the largest of those she had selected, large enough to carry Almid, Kester, and Ky-shan
himself. “Saddle them,” she said. When the horse master opened his mouth to protest, she snapped, “Send Vanyr to me if he complains! That is, if he knows where the front lines are.”

  Ky-shan’s men sniggered, but the Major ignored them. “Mount up,” she called. “We have wasted enough time.”

  She handed her pack to Robin and adjusted her sword belt so that the longsword rode at her back. Then she walked over to Drum and swung herself into the saddle. The huge warhorse pranced and snorted, and the pirates eyed him warily. “This beast is battle trained,” she warned them, “as is the Captain’s. Do not ride too close behind or you will feel the steel of their shoes.”

  When they were all mounted, she directed Marik and Robin to flank her. Then she urged Drum to a canter and led her band out of the Citadel gates, passing a furious Commander Vanyr on the way. As they rode round the perimeter wall, they drew shouts of encouragement from the guardsmen manning it. More used to being reviled than hailed, the pirates’ mood slowly lifted. Sullyan kept a stern eye on them, concentrating on identifying those she already knew and fixing in her mind those whose names she had yet to learn. By tomorrow night she wanted to be able to address each one by name and know something of their character. It would deepen their respect for her and was part of the reason why her Albian command followed her so readily.

  She led them across the Plain in a southwesterly direction. The wind was bitter and the ground semi-frozen, but the light cloud cover presaged no rain or snow. They made good time, and after a couple of hours of hard riding Sullyan called a halt to breathe the mounts. As she moved round the men, talking to them and telling them what she intended, she noticed that some of them were drinking thick, brown liquor from stone jars. She nudged Drum closer to Ky-shan’s horse and pointed to the jar in his hand.

  “What is that?”

  He wiped his mouth and grinned. “Brine rum, Lady. Try some?”

  “I thank you, Ky-shan, but I do not drink. I do not object to your men doing so, but let me warn you. If I ever find one of your men incapable of fighting due to intoxication, I will send him back in disgrace. Our success as a company depends on each man’s skills and obedience, and I will not tolerate less than total commitment. Remember the terms of our bargain.”

  He heard the threat in her tone and glanced severely at his men. There were some scowls, but they all stoppered their jars. “Have no fear, Lady, they won’t let you down.”

  “See to it, Ky-shan. You are responsible.”

  Sullyan led them at speed for the rest of the afternoon, and they entered the forests bordering the Citadel Plain as the light began to fade. Under her instructions, Robin sent out scouts, but none returned with news of the enemy. Having already asked the Captain to use his metasenses, Sullyan wasn’t surprised. She already knew roughly where Rykan’s men were. She kept her own powers shielded. The last thing she wanted was for Rykan to catch a glimpse of her presence. She also concealed her knowledge from Ky-shan, as a test of his men. So far, she was content. The pirates were behaving themselves, happy to be out of the Citadel and doing what they had come for.

  As the failing daylight made further progress through the trees too risky, she gave the order to make camp. Among the bustle and noise of settling the horses and lighting fires, she could hear some of the pirates commenting on the fact that she, Robin, and Marik were seeing to their own horses and gear. It gave her grim amusement. Ky-shan’s men were used to Andaryan officers, who did nothing for themselves. There was an even greater stir when she and Robin made their rounds, something Sullyan always insisted on, before making a fire or seeing to their own comforts. They went round separately, talking to the men individually or in groups, seeing that they had all they needed and that there were no complaints. Many puzzled eyes and low mutterings followed them.

  As they made their way back to where Marik was sitting with their gear, they passed Ky-shan’s campfire. The pirate leader was eating with his son, Jay’el, the twin giants, Almid and Kester, and the other young lad, who was called Ki-en. Ky-shan invited the Albians to share his fire, and as Sullyan sat, one of the huge twins wordlessly offered her his flagon.

  “I thank you, Kester, but I do not drink.”

  Surprise crossed the huge man’s face, and Sullyan guessed that most people couldn’t tell the twins apart. She grinned. “I was right, then?”

  He smiled back with a shy expression which was strange to see in such a large, brawny man. Something about his manner caught Sullyan’s attention and she frowned. “You cannot speak, can you?”

  Wariness came into his eyes and he gave a curt shake of his head. His brother shot her an apprehensive look before turning his eyes on Ky-shan.

  The pirate leader leaned back on one elbow. “They’ve had their tongues cut out. Happened years ago when they were boys. It was Relkorian slavers. They often do that, the bastards, to stop their victims crying out. Triton knows how, but the boys managed to fight their way free, even young as they were. But they were useless then, with their tongues gone, so their kin cast them off. I found them begging on the foreshore one day, half-starved, ragged, and homeless, and took them on. You don’t need tongues to sail a ship, you need brawn. And they’ve got that in shoals.”

  Kester watched Sullyan closely, uncertainty in his eyes. Discerning his worry, she grinned. “Have no fear, Kester. It is of no importance to me. My only care is that you can use that huge meat cleaver you carry.”

  He showed surprise again, then grinned back and traded a glance with his brother. It confirmed a suspicion for Sullyan, and she placed her hand on the huge man’s arm. Kester leaped up as if he had been struck and stood there, staring wildly round. Ky-shan and the others jumped too.

  Sullyan laughed. “I am sorry, gentlemen, I seem to have startled our big friend here. Kester is used to hearing only his brother’s voice inside his head. Hearing mine was clearly a shock. Kester, would you like me to show you how I did that?”

  Ky-shan frowned at her as they all settled back down. “You spoke to his mind, Lady? But they’re not Artesans.”

  “Almid and Kester might not be Artesans in the usual way, but they are twins. Twins often share a bond of the mind. It is not always possible, but sometimes a skilled Artesan can tap into that bond.”

  The giants regarded her with awe. Then they glanced at each other and Kester slowly nodded. After a few moments, his brother Almid did the same.

  Sullyan spent some time with them, only standing to leave when both twins could speak to Ky-shan and Jay’el, as well as Robin. Fascinated and excited by their new skill, the two giants watched her with something akin to adoration in their fire-lit eyes.

  “Ky-shan,” said Sullyan, “we must set watches tonight. Divide your men into three groups, please. You will lead the first watch. The Captain here will lead the second, and I want Almid and Kester included in his group. I will lead the dawn watch, and I want your son and Ki-en in my group.”

  Jay’el started to protest, but his father shot him a quelling glance. “You’re going to lead the dawn watch, Lady?”

  “Do you have a problem with that, Ky-shan? No? Good. Let me remind you, I expect all your men to be alert and thoroughly sober, no matter what shift they are assigned. I leave their distribution to you, apart from those I have already mentioned. I am going to rest now. I suggest you give your orders and deploy your sentinels. Be sure to wake the Captain at the appropriate time.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The night watches passed peacefully. Dawn found them breaking camp and mounting up, and Sullyan rode round the men, greeting them all before leading them off. Jay’el, who had sulked through his entire watch, stuck close to his father and his friend. Ki-en was a year younger than the twenty-year-old Jay’el, and clearly felt none of his friend’s resentment of Sullyan. During their watch, he had asked her about Drum and Torka and seemed fascinated by the finely trained beasts. She answered his questions willingly, amused yet exasperated by Jay’el’s obvious disapproval. She could
only hope that Ki-en’s more mature attitude would rub off on his sullen friend.

  She led them southwest once more. The night had been bitter cold, and they moved at a steady pace to warm the horses. Once they were thoroughly limbered up, Sullyan increased the pace to a ground-eating canter. Around midday, they saw the first sign that Rykan’s troops were near when they came across a team of field medics from the Citadel. Sullyan halted her band and rode over to talk with the Chief Healer. He was also a Master-elite, which pleased her as she rarely met others of her rank. He accorded her easy courtesy, grateful for her offer of metaphysical help should he require it. Before parting they exchanged knowledge of each other’s psyche so they could communicate.

  After a brief meal, they continued on. The going beneath the trees was getting rougher. Many men and horses had been that way. From the elderly Master Healer, Sullyan had obtained information of where Rykan’s main forces were the day before, and she asked Robin to send out teams of scouts with strict instructions to report, not engage. She was gratified when one group, a team of six including Almid and Kester, rode in at the gallop, saying they had located a small force of the enemy off the right flank of Rykan’s main column.

  As soon as the other scouts returned, Sullyan called the whole band together. This was an important moment, and it was crucial that this first attack succeed. If it failed, it was unlikely she could continue to lead the band. She shared a look with Robin, making sure he understood. Then she turned to address the pirates.

  “Gentlemen, our scouts have found us our first target. A small unit of enemy horsemen has strayed too far from the main body of troops. They have no scouts, and Kester reports that they appear disorganized. If we can surround them, we can kill them. We will advance in close order, following Kester’s lead. Keep your progress as silent as possible to maintain the advantage of surprise. Once the order to engage is given, strike swiftly and strike hard. Do not get separated from your fellows. If the enemy succeeds in breaking back toward their fellows, we will retreat. There will be no waiting for stragglers. We will have other opportunities to strike at Rykan’s men, but only if we take no unnecessary risks.”