Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3
Page 54
Everyone sang the chorus, and then Keverin sang to Jihan again. He was panting from laughing so hard when he rejoined Julia.
“That was marvellous,” Julia said happily.
“Jessica will give me what for later.”
“No she won’t. She hasn’t laughed so hard in ages.”
“Nor have I!” Keverin said with a grin.
Mathius rose to his feet and everyone hushed in expectation. In a quiet voice he told the story of the Founding. Keverin had heard the tale many times. Instead of watching Mathius as he brought that long ago time to life, he watched Julia. She was spellbound. She was leaning forward and hanging on Mathius’ every word.
Julia saw him watching her out the corner of her eye. She grinned at him. “What?”
Keverin shook his head with a smile. “I just like looking at you.”
Julia held out her hand and he took it. “Listen, he’s coming to the best part.”
Keverin reluctantly turned his attention to Mathius just as he conjured a dragon. He gasped in shock, but it went unheard. There were gasps and gaping faces aplenty.
“Oooh…”
“Ahhhh…”
“Look at that!”
The dragon was lovingly crafted in tiny detail. Its silver scales shimmered and reflected the firelight. It floated above Mathius’ hand lazily flapping its wings as if flying through the air. It was a beautiful creature and one that Keverin recognised. There was a much larger version of Mathius’ dragon in the great hall at Athione. The dragon tapestry was very old and based on a story from the Histories.
Julia was grinning at his stunned expression. Keeping her voice low she said, “I knew he could do it.”
“Do?”
“Illusions,” Julia said simply. “He’s been playing around with them for tendays. He got the idea from my botched attempt at a ward—you remember?”
Keverin shook his head. “I never saw it.”
Julia’s face darkened and he squeezed her hand. She was remembering her first attempt at warding. It had been just a short time after the sorcerers destroyed Athione’s west wall and gate towers. He had been badly injured and near death when Julia climbed one of the crumbling towers to fight. She had tried to raise a ward to replace the one destroyed, but according to Marcus and others he had spoken to, it had manifested itself as a mere curtain of blue light. It had looked like a ward, but it was merely light. It was unable to hold the enemy out of the fortress.
“That was a long time ago, Julia. Don’t think about it.”
“Easy to say,” Julia said with a brittle smile. “Anyway, that’s where he got the idea. He really is a genius, Kev. We were talking about wards and how the different types were constructed, when he suddenly said that if I could raise blue light with magic, why not shadows? That’s all an illusion really is you know—light and shadows. The next thing I know, he’s experimenting with them and adding other colours.”
“He’s amazing,” Keverin said because Julia wanted him too. “What else can he do?”
“Just the dragon—he isn’t very strong yet. It’s tiring for him.”
The dragon was a pretty thing, but it wasn’t a very practical kind of magic. He didn’t say that though. Julia and Mathius had a special relationship—one he could have been jealous of if not for his own special place in Julia’s heart. He respected her feelings for Mathius because he shared them to a—no doubt lesser—extent. He could never know the intimate bond they shared—the bond between two people blessed with the God’s power, but then Mathius would never know what Julia and he shared together. Keverin watched the dragon rise above Mathius’ head and belch flames into the night. It rose higher and higher until finally disappearing with one final blast of fire. There was a hush over the camp. All eyes were searching the sky as if expecting the creature to return.
Mathius broke the silence, “And that, my dear friends, was how Deva was born in blood and fire.” He bowed to Keverin and Jihan.
Thunderous applause erupted from all sides as Mathius took his place by the fire. Julia winked at him, and he grinned in delight.
Keverin stood and the camp quieted. “We have an early start tomorrow, but I think there’s time left for one dance,” he said and held out his hand to Julia. “Come my lady.”
Udall whispered to Burke and the other players. There were nods and hasty retuning of strings. Udall began it. It was a simple melody that was commonly played at weddings and feast days. No one knew its origins, but that it was old was beyond question. There had been many different songs penned to accompany it over the years.
Julia took Keverin’s hand reluctantly and he pulled her to her feet. “I’ll get you for this,” she said under her breath just as Burke and the other players began to play their accompaniment.
“Hush,” Keverin said. “You know how to dance better than anyone I know.”
“Gymnastics is a different kind of dancing.”
“I know,” he said with laughter in his eyes.
Julia curtsied and tried to cover her sigh of exasperation, but Keverin heard it all right. He bowed, and then led her into the dance. She responded to him and the music beautifully. He knew she would.
Julia was made for dancing.
The next day found Keverin’s thoughts far from music and dancing. In the distance, Herstal Keep rose seemingly out of the forest as they followed the road over dip and rise. It was built on a hill that had once been the site of a watch tower guarding the river approach to Devarr. The tower was gone now, only its purpose remained. A purpose Herstal fulfilled admirably. It was a shame that the same couldn’t be said for its lords. The trees had been allowed to close back in from where the Founders had pushed them. No doubt Meagan liked a little hunting—most lords did, but allowing the forest to hold that which foolish lords had allowed it to reclaim, was more than just unwise. True, the keep—and the tower before it—had been built to watch the river approach, but it also watched the land. That land was now composed of deep forest.
Meagan wasn’t a fool, but he was acting like one. No one could treat his people so badly and not reap the consequences. He must know that. Why then was he doing it? Why, if not for greed, was he taxing his people into ruin? It was more than just brutal. It was foolish. Meagan’s prosperity relied upon the prosperity of his people and lands. By doing as he had done, he was weakening himself.
“Why destroy his own?”
“Hmmm?” Jihan said. “Who?”
Keverin nodded at the keep, visible again as they topped a rise in the road. “Meagan. Put yourself in his place for a moment—”
“I’d rather not.”
“—do that and destroy your own people?” Keverin said ignoring Jihan’s sarcasm. “Where is the gain?”
“Gold?”
“In the short term, yes, but he’ll ruin his lands. It doesn’t make sense.”
“It makes sense all right,” Jihan said. “Just not to us.”
Keverin grunted. “I suppose.”
“What about undermining the King? It would have that effect wouldn’t it?” Julia said.
“He’s dead.”
“Yes, now he’s dead, but he wasn’t when Meagan and Scalderon started this.”
Keverin frowned. Julia had shown him the letters penned by such lords as Scalderon and Meagan. There was no mention of any such plan. There was treachery and conspiracy, but no mention was made of taxes.
“How many others were involved in your father’s plans?” Keverin said.
Jihan scowled. “Athlone’s treachery was spread far and wide. Did they all write letters? I doubt it. Those that did are bad enough. There’s no telling how many were involved or how deeply.”
“You’re looking at this all wrong,” Julia said.
Keverin turned to find his lady close behind him. “Oh?”
“You told me that if Athlone had tried to go through with his plan, there would have been civil war.”
“And so there would,” Jihan said. “Athlone chose
his allies carefully and well. Those he needed most would have known his plans in detail. They had to be deeply involved—the letters prove that—and trusted as much as Athlone trusted anyone.”
Julia shook her head. “That helps, but it’s not what I was talking about. War costs money—lots of money. From where do such lords get their money?”
“Outside the kingdom,” Keverin said grimly.
“The sorcerers—” Jihan began.
Julia shook her head. “Not them, well maybe, but I was thinking more of Kirstal and Hringham. We have letters from both Meagan and Scalderon. Both of them are taxing their people into ruin. Where is all that gold going?”
“Supplies… war supplies?” Jihan said with a frown at Keverin. “It might be that they’re taxing so heavily in order to raise armies.”
“If so, we should turn around.”
Julia shook her head. “We need to know what they’re up to. Why not send Kinnon on ahead?”
Kinnon was their best scout. What he did was close to artistry in his opinion, yet he hesitated. Kinnon had lost his brother to the Hasians last year and he hadn’t been the same since. His brightness had dimmed into something hard and cold. Where before it had been his brother Ged who had been prone to brooding, now it was he. It was almost as if Kinnon had died that day and not Ged.
“Brian!”
“Lord?” Captain Brian said as he kicked his horse into a brief trot to come alongside Keverin.
“Your opinion on Kinnon’s squad?”
“The best we have, my lord, and veterans all. Sergeant Kinnon is the best scout in the fortress and his men aspire to match him. They never will, but they’ll come close and keep trying. For pride, and for him, my lord.”
“What of his mood?”
“Mood my lord?” Brian frowned. “I don’t think I—”
“The death of his brother hit him hard.”
“Yes my lord, of course it did, but none would let such things interfere with duty, least of all Kinnon. Might I ask…?”
Keverin nodded. “I’m considering whether to send Kinnon’s squad on ahead to investigate the situation at Herstal. Think you they’re ready?”
“Yes my lord.”
“No doubts?”
“None my lord! They’re veterans and they were good before Kinnon took them on. They won’t fail you.”
“That agrees with my thinking on the matter.”
Brian was confused. “Then why…?”
“Why did I ask you?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“I asked because you’re his captain, but you’re new to your position. I wanted to hear your reasoning.”
“I see,” Brian said stiffly.
Keverin noted Brian’s tone. “Marcus recommended you for the position. You’re young for it, but I decided to take his advice. I can see that I was right to do so.”
The stiffness in Brian’s posture eased. “Thank you, my lord.”
“Order Kinnon to go on ahead and scout the situation. Tell him to pay particular attention to the horses. I would know just how many guardsmen we will find upon our arrival.”
“At once my lord!” Brian saluted and turned his horse to ride back.
Julia watched Brian ride away then turned to Keverin. “That was good of you.”
“He deserves to know that I have faith in him. Marcus was right to promote him.”
“I know, but it was still nice for him to hear it from you.”
Kinnon galloped away at the head of his squad and was quickly lost to distance. He would take to the trees at some point and scout the lay of the land.
“Tell me more of Herstal,” Julia said watching Kinnon out of sight. “For what is he most known?”
Keverin shrugged. “His father, perhaps?” he said looking at Jihan for confirmation.
“Before my time, I’m afraid,” Jihan said with a quick smile. “I know of him though.”
Keverin nodded. “Lord Grier was a good man, though I think unsuited to the life that the God gave him. He was a less than average lord, but as a man, there were few better. He used to spend a good deal of his spare time on the hunt. He invited my father many times.”
“I remember,” Jessica said. “Kevlarin enjoyed his company.”
Keverin nodded. “I was only a boy, but I know father respected him.”
“So what went wrong with his son?” Julia said.
“I don’t know. Meagan is nothing like his father. Grier spent a good deal of his time working with his dyers. I’ve heard it said that he would actually get down in the vats with his men to clean them. He was always looking for new ways to make Herstal dyes the best. Meagan would never lower himself to do that.”
“Your cloak was probably made using Herstal dye,” Jessica put in. “You won’t get a blue that rich using anything else.”
Julia stroked the material of her cloak. “I didn’t realise. I thought this came from Lomond.”
Keverin smiled. “It did. Lomond is one of Herstal’s biggest customers and always has been. Chogan relies upon the tried and true, but Blaise is different. He told me that he’s been experimenting with other suppliers.”
Julia nodded. “I remember you two discussing that. Have you decided?”
“I know nothing about pigments and what not. Blaise has a positive knack for it. What do I know about coal tar and chemicals—nothing. It’s like listening to a mage when Blaise gets started on the subject! He would do better asking Mathius and Lucius to join him, not me.”
“You could learn.”
“I suppose.”
Keverin was not at all enthusiastic and had no intention of joining Blaise in shaking up the dyer’s industry. He had enough to do without trying to become a merchant prince like those in Japura. He would never admit to it openly, but he had a lot of sympathy with traditionalist lords like Chogan. Although they didn’t see eye to eye on the issue of peonage, he agreed with Chogan’s views regarding a lord’s duty to his people. A lord’s traditional place was to provide governance and protection to his people. It was a duty that Keverin felt well equipped to discharge. He’d learned from his father all he needed to know about merchants and trading. Kevlarin taught him to invest gold wisely, but take no active part in the myriad of schemes proposed to him each year. That advice had stood him in good stead over the years. Athione’s treasure was increasing slowly but steadily, and like his father before him, he had time for the things he considered more important than gold.
“Blaise will be disappointed,” Julia said interrupting Keverin’s reverie.
“He knows me well enough to guess what my decision would be. I would do him a disservice if I tried to meddle with the trade he and his people know so well.”
“It might give Meagan pause if he heard you were backing Blaise,” Jihan said with a grin. “I can almost hear the howls from here!”
Keverin and Jihan laughed over that but Julia had a distracted look upon her face. A moment later she smiled grimly. Jessica noticed and leaned in to ask what had occurred to her, but Julia just shook her head unwilling to divulge her secret.
Keverin shielded his eyes as he checked the sun’s position. Thinking it would be beneficial to give Kinnon some time to work, he conferred with Jihan and it was decided to stop for an early meal. Midday was a candlemark or more away, but Kinnon could use the extra time.
* * *
Kinnon would have agreed with his lord had he known his thoughts. As it was, he was cursing under his breath and wondering how he was to cover such a wide area of forest in the time available. He couldn’t of course. That being true, there was no point in trying. A half-arsed job of scouting was worse than useless. It would lead to a false feeling of security when in fact there was none. Lord Corlath—Purcell’s eldest boy—had found that out to his cost just last year. He was dead, and his men with him, because he forgot that basic lesson.
When Kinnon judged his squad was close enough, he ordered they dismount and proceed on foot. He left Danil in charg
e of the horses and told him not to unsaddle them. Secure in the knowledge that Danil had the horses in hand, Kinnon led his nine men deep into the trees. There was no talking. Each foot was placed carefully and precisely to prevent noise. Kinnon did it as easily as breathing—without thought. His father had taught him and Ged the way of the deep forests and there was none better in the land. Kinnon’s squad tried to emulate him with varying degrees of success, but the result was very nearly perfect.
No one heard them.
But then again, Kinnon mused as he edged through the undergrowth, there was no one around to hear them. He didn’t seriously expect to find anyone this deep in the trees. If he was right, he would find what he was looking for camped near the keep or even within the town of Herstal itself. There was no logical reason for an army to camp within—
“Down!” Kinnon hissed with a patting gesture in the air behind him.
His squad instantly obeyed. The ground seemed to writhe for a moment then cease. The guardsmen were as close to invisible as made no difference. Kinnon took one hasty glance back to satisfy himself that his apprentices had remembered their lessons. They had. He cocked his elbow and raised a clenched fist.
Hold here.
Kinnon eased forward and into the cover of a fallen tree. He slithered into a hollow under the rotted trunk and carefully peered through the undergrowth at what had alerted him. It was an encampment. Not large at first sight, but it was a sprawling mess. The more he studied it, the more he realised that it could be very large indeed. There were no orderly rows of tents to count. No picket lines to easily estimate cavalry. Even the latrines were out of sight somewhere. The more he thought about it, the more he realised that such a disorganised camp was in fact very clever. He scanned the area for a banner, but there was nothing. There was no resemblance to one of Lord Keverin’s orderly encampments, the tents were set at all angles and positions with no two the same. It gave the impression of being haphazard, but Kinnon wasn’t fooled. Someone had gone to great lengths to make the camp appear this way. Might there be more of these? His eyes narrowed. There could be, he thought grimly.