Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3

by Mark E. Cooper

  “Two or three thousand.”

  Methrym groaned. Two or three thousand was less than a quarter of Chala’s population. This couldn’t go on. The borderlands had already been depopulated from Japuran raids last year, but now the devastation was beginning to stretch into the very heart of Tanjung. Chala wasn’t the seat of a major noble house, but it was the last minor seat between Japura and Chalek. House Chalek was very much a major house, and if Wakiza destroyed it, the repercussions would resound throughout Tanjung. Lord Chalek was not at all happy with him, or with the Japurans he had been associating with of late, and it would only get worse when news of Chala reached there.

  “Orders?” the messenger said breaking his reverie.

  Idiot, you have a battle to fight here! Wake up!

  “Send to Parry. He is to make all speed and rendezvous with us at Chalek.”

  The messenger nodded, “Chalek. I’ll tell him.”

  Methrym dismissed the man and turned his attention back to the battle. Lorenz had gained no ground. Soren was fully engaged and seemed to be bogged down. It was time he remedied that.

  “Remember boy, stick to me like rust!”

  Alrik nodded and blew the charge. Methrym hardly heard it. His attention narrowed to the fight ahead and what he had to do. The reserve battalions thundered down the hill at a full gallop. They smashed into the Japuran line so fast that they penetrated nearly half the depth of the Japuran line before slowing. He was cutting men down in front of him while his horse frantically bit and kicked her way forward.

  He concentrated on the Japurans directly ahead and trusted to luck—it was all he could do in such close confines. Alrik was close behind him blowing his cornet for all he was worth and using him as his shield. Clever lad. Methrym kicked a last man in the face wincing as teeth shattered, and then urged his horse to the gallop as the Japuran line broke in half. Alrik was blowing the advance as he had been told and the men galloped through the remnants of the enemy formation.

  “Blow rally, boy!”

  Alrik blew, and the men responded.

  Methrym waited impatiently for sufficient numbers to arrive. Lorenz had taken advantage of the confusion and was rolling up that side of the Japuran line. He was forcing them into the centre that was still reeling from the charge. Soren was not making as much headway with his side. The reinforcements were fresh and well able to hold him off. Still, Soren was slowly making his presence felt even so.

  Methrym looked around at the force he had managed to rally and judged he had lost perhaps a tenth part of his men. Hundreds dead, but thank the God not thousands.

  “Blow the charge boy!” he shouted and spurred his horse forward.

  The charge slammed into the still reeling centre and obliterated it. Not one Japuran was left standing as his force thundered through the lines riding men into the ground. The men wheeled and struck the flanks of the embattled Japurans on what had been the left wing but was now a furious mass of confusion. No mercy was asked for or offered. Methrym withdrew from the fighting and watched from a safe remove as Casta subordinated himself to Lorenz and destroyed the Japurans utterly. The victory was all but complete. The Japurans lost cohesion the moment their commanders were destroyed. The fools had all been in the centre, and now small packets of men fought and died separately unable to help each other.

  Lorenz finished those opposing him and led his men to assault the rear of those attacking Soren. Methrym sat with Alrik watching the inevitable victory coming to pass, but he could not help glancing back over his shoulder. Wakiza…Wakiza was back there somewhere and he was coming. They had to get out of here before the Strike Leader did to him what he had just done to his army.

  Neither Soren nor Lorenz were accepting surrender of course, they wouldn’t even if they could. This war had seen the end of the old practice of ransoming prisoners. Neither side was interested in gold any longer. Tanjung was fighting for its very life, and the Japurans… well they were fighting to avenge Talayan he assumed. Lorenz was quicker than Soren to finish his grizzly task and report.

  “I have many wounded, Methrym; what’s the urgency?”

  “I’m glad to see you’re alive too, Lorenz!”

  Lorenz shook his head and mumbled, “I can never talk to you when you’re like this.”

  “Like what?”

  “You know what. So why are we running?”

  There was no easy way to tell his friend, so Methrym said it straight out, “Parry pulled out and left Chala for Wakiza. It’s gone.”

  “All of it? Everyone?” Lorenz whispered.

  He nodded watching Lorenz’ face. Lorenz had friends in Chala… he used to have friends there. “Parry brought out two in ten. She might be all right,” Methrym said but how likely was that? Not very Lorenz’s face said and he agreed.

  Malvina was Lorenz’s mistress. He loved her deeply and would have married her if not for one thing. She was the daughter of a merchant not a noble. Lorenz was the son of a minor noble house true, but even a minor noble was expected to marry for position not love. Lorenz’s father would never understand if he ask to marry her.

  “Parry’s dead!” Lorenz snarled.

  “Never mind him,” Methrym said privately agreeing. “We have Wakiza behind us and nothing ahead of us but burned towns and villages. We have enough supplies for a tenday and nowhere to get more.”

  “Sounds lovely,” Lorenz said still distracted by his loss.

  “Snap out of it!”

  Lorenz braced to attention and saluted. “Yes Sir, sorry Sir, orders Sir?”

  “And stop pissing about.”

  Lorenz turned his thoughts toward the current situation. “All right Methrym, I’ll be good… for now. What are we doing?”

  “We are getting out of here fast. Swinging wide to the east, we’ll work round to rendezvous with the others at Chalek.”

  “Long ride that,” Lorenz mused. “What of the rumoured second army? It’s supposed to be in the east somewhere. It would be disaster running into that while we’re like this,” he said nodding at the wounded.

  “It’s a chance we’ll have to take. I’m sorry, but we haven’t time for pyres or burials. I need everyone in the saddle and moving east immediately. Those that need help will have to ride double.”

  Lorenz grimaced. “We’ll lose more than a few on the trail, but you’re right, we can’t afford to stay here.”

  “Get started,” Methrym said as Soren walked up.

  Lorenz nodded to Soren and went back to his men.

  “Well, Cousin?” Soren said beaming.

  “You did fine.”

  “Fine!” Soren said in outrage. “It was better than fine cousin! It was… it was marvellous! Even Barthan couldn’t have done better. Your plan worked exactly as you said it would.”

  No it hadn’t, not by a long way, but there was no point in dwelling in the past. “We need everyone mounted and away to the east, Soren. Double up where necessary, but get it done.”

  “We’re running?” Soren said in disbelief. “But we just won a smashing victory here! Let Wakiza come Methrym, we can take him.”

  “Don’t be a fool!” Methrym said losing his temper. “He has twice our number. We’ll be in the same position as they were if we stay,” he said nodding toward the heaps of Japuran dead.

  “And whose fault is it that we have less men? If you hadn’t given so many to Parry this wouldn’t be happening.”

  “For the God’s sake, Soren, wake up will you! We are supposed to be protecting our people, not running around having fun! I had to secure Chala at our backs, and three thousand was barely enough to do it.”

  “A fat lot of good it did. Those men with us would have given us choices, but now we have none.”

  Methrym was deadly calm. His hand on the hilt of his sword was relaxed but ready to draw. “Are you saying that you could have done a better job?”

  “Maybe I could have led better. I’m no novice like that bunch of whores you like so much!”

/>   “I am mindful that we are cousins, Soren, but don’t ever make the mistake of thinking I won’t kill you. Tanjung is more important than petty rivalry. Vexin can’t afford divided leadership. Will you follow, or do we fight?”

  Soren was close to drawing his sword, he could feel it. He firmed his grip upon the hilt of is sword but was saved the need when Lorenz returned. Lorenz stilled at the sight of the cousins standing like statues two sword lengths apart.

  “What’s amiss?”

  Without taking his eyes away from Soren, Methrym spoke up. “Well?”

  Soren relaxed and shook his head. “No. Nothing is amiss, Lorenz,” he said then addressed himself to Methrym. “Chalek was it?”

  “Chalek,” Methrym agreed.

  “I’ll take point. Shall I?”

  “That might be best.”

  Soren saluted and moved away toward his men.

  “What was all that?” Lorenz said not dismounting.

  Methrym walked to his horse and mounted without speaking. Soren moved to his side as they rode toward the bulk of their forces.

  “Well?”

  He sighed. Lorenz didn’t know when to leave it alone. “Soren thinks we should stand and fight. He thinks he should lead this army, and that I was stupid in leaving near three thousand men at Chala. He’s right in a way.”

  “Don’t talk rubbish! We killed… what? At least three quarters of Wakiza’s army right here!”

  “I didn’t mean that, I meant leaving three thousand under Parry. I should have left you there.”

  “Maybe you should have, but then Parry would have been here holding your left wing. What was the least risky place?”

  “It was Chala, but Wakiza—”

  “Wakiza is a fine War Leader or Strike Leader or whatever you want to call him. He took a chance and beat you at Chala, but he lost big here, Methrym. This battle might be the turning point for us. One more like this and he’ll be finished!”

  Lorenz was right and Methrym took heart. Chala was a loss he regretted deeply, but it was a small loss when compared with the gain he had salvaged here. Wakiza would have to pull back now… no, he wouldn’t do that, but he would have to be more circumspect at the least.

  Surely I can find a way to use his losses here to my advantage.

  “You’re right, Lorenz. We ride for Chalek before Wakiza can get here.”

  Lorenz gave the order and the army, weary but victorious, moved east.

  “…the whores,” Lorenz was saying.

  “What?”

  “I was saying that as Soren doesn’t want them. I’ll take on the whores.”

  Methrym grimaced. Nisim should have chosen another name for his little war band. “You can’t have them. I have something in mind for the borderers and Nisim’s people.”

  Vexin’s plans to fortify the border and repopulate the region with freed slaves had fallen through when Japura invaded. Terriss had vowed not to let Japura take them or their land again, but when the time came, he had no choice but to flee. Terriss and his people had quickly faded away without fighting and were currently residing in Chalek with Nisim’s people. The borderers and whores represented a significant force in the region, one Methrym had plans for. If the Japurans tried to take them back, they would have a serious fight on their hands.

  They made camp that night under the trees and buried those that had died during the trip. It was both better and worse than he had feared. Less than a hundred had died, but the effect on the morale of his men was dire. They were unhappy about not sending their fallen friends home to the God properly, and it was weighing on their minds. He couldn’t let them have pyres, and they knew why, but he could almost hear their thoughts coming to him like whispers on the breeze.

  “Will he leave me lying somewhere unburned for the wolves to find?”

  Methrym walked through the camp trying not to trip in the dark. He had ordered no fires and cold rations, which was unpopular, but that was nothing compared to his men’s main concern. He tried to reassure them where he could and hoped they would pass his message on.

  “The God sees us wherever we are. He does not need smoke to find us when we die. Remember your lessons and trust that he sees all,” he said over and over, but he wasn’t sure how successful he was until he returned to Soren under a giant oak.

  “That was well done,” Soren nodded toward the men. “Reminding them of childhood lessons. I’m sorry about earlier, Cousin. I know I’m no Barthan… or a Methrym either for that matter. I could never take your place, but I am good at what I do.”

  “You are,” he agreed, well pleased with the apology. Strife amongst his captains he did not need.

  “We will reach Chalek in… what? About a tenday I would judge.”

  Methrym nodded. “About that.”

  “Have you decided what’s to be done?”

  “Re-supply at Chalek, gather every man including the whores, and then turn and destroy Wakiza’s army to the last man.”

  “Oh! Nothing too strenuous then,” Soren said chuckling quietly.

  Methrym snorted. It was late and getting later, he lay down to sleep.

  * * *

  13 ~ Royalty

  Lady Ahnao stood with her lord upon the west wall of fortress Malcor to view the camp. Jihan’s men had done wonders with its construction. Where before there had been an open plain, now a new town constructed of wood sat. The buildings, of which there were precisely one hundred and two, were built to house Deva’s future legions as they trained. One hundred were identical to each other and were the barracks for the recruits; the other two were much larger and had more than one purpose; they were stores, classrooms and eating areas. Although Jihan had in excess of six thousand guardsmen under his command, it had still taken them nearly an entire season to raise the camp. His men had made a heroic effort, often working through snow and rain to finish it.

  There it stood—empty!

  “The King said spring; well it’s spring. Where are the recruits he promised to send? If I’ve built all that for nothing I’ll—” Jihan broke off frowning.

  Lady Ahnao smiled. Her consort was loyal beyond question. There was not much he could say or do if the King decided not to send the promised men.

  “They will come, Jihan. When they do, you’ll be run off your feet wishing you had never seen them!”

  Jihan chuckled and gave his lady a gentle squeeze. He was always very careful with her. Even though he knew her to be a strong woman, he treated her as if she might break. Her pregnancy had only emphasised his care.

  Arm in arm they descended the steps and made their way through the corridors until reaching a pleasant little room that faced east into the sun. Jihan saw her safely seated then poured two glasses of a richly scented wine. She grimaced behind his back, but smiled when he turned to proffer the glass.

  He sat close beside her and drank his wine. Ahnao took a small sip then placed the glass well away on the side table. Her stomach was still queasy even after six moons of pregnancy. The healer said it was normal and gave her some herbs to eat, but they didn’t help very much.

  “Do you think Julia will come home soon?” she asked, trying to take her mind off her stomach. She was hoping that her friend would reassure her that the babe was all right.

  “I doubt it. Keverin was of the opinion she would return with him immediately she was well, but we both know Julia wouldn’t have done that.”

  Ahnao sighed. Julia was known throughout Deva as the Sorceress of Athione and the saviour of Devarr, but she was also known for sacrificing her own wants to help those she considered friends. With the Hasians in the north, it would be very hard for her to turn her back on her new friends within the clans.

  “Will she win?” Ahnao asked intently. If the answer was no, Malcor would soon be under siege by General Navarien.

  Jihan was silent as he considered the question. She waited patiently for her answer preferring a well thought out response to glib reassurances.

  “Possibly
,” Jihan said finally. “Navarien is good by all accounts, but the clans still outnumber him. The problem is the clans don’t fight in the same way as the legions take for granted. A well led legion can destroy three times its own numbers. If their enemy is ill led and undisciplined, even more.”

  That was about what she had expected. “What of magic?”

  Jihan took a swallow of wine before answering. “I only know what I have witnessed myself where magic is concerned. Julia is unbelievably strong according to Lucius and Mathius, but to defeat the numbers said to be opposing her? I doubt she can. The shamen will even things up, but according to Petya they are not warriors and by tradition they do not fight. Without shamen to hold off the sorcerers, the clans will be destroyed.”

  Ahnao shivered at Jihan’s bleak but matter of fact tone. What would her son do in a future where the Protectorate ruled?

  “What will we do when Navarien comes?” she whispered. She no longer doubted the day was approaching.

  “What we can. I will attack when that’s possible; defend when that is necessary. I’ll not allow a siege if I can avoid it, but I probably won’t be able to. Long before then you and our child will be at Athione.”

  “Oh we will, will we?” Ahnao said angrily. “Just how were you intending to send me there? Will you turn me out of my home? Because that’s what you will have to do!”

  Jihan tried to pull her into his arms but she would have none of it. She bounced to her feet and chose an armchair to sit in where he couldn’t coax her into agreeing.

  “Now Ahnao, don’t be like that,” Jihan pleaded.

  “Like what?”

  “You know very well like what!”

  Ahnao blinked. Jihan must be very worried. He was always the perfect gentleman with her or any woman come to that. She listened quietly as he went on.

  “—or daughter to the cursed Hasians! I’ll not have it! My son will live to be Lord Malcor and so will his son after him!”

  “But you just said—”

  Jihan held up a hand to silence her. “If it comes to that. When or if it comes to that, you will obey me!”

  She bit her lip. She wanted to argue but knew it would do no good. He was scaring her with his talk of the next lord Malcor. Jihan and she had many more years together! She had to believe that.