Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3

by Mark E. Cooper

  “You have loyal men, but to whom are they loyal? That’s the question,” Keppel said.

  “No question,” he rebutted. “They’re loyal to me and through me to Vexin.”

  “I see,” Keppel said without revealing his opinion of the arrangement. “What of the two Japurans? They are pure blood.”

  “The tall one is Joz. He’s captain for the whores. The shorter one is Nisim. He represents their other interests.”

  “A slave who would be lord.”

  “Not at all. He fought at Talayan to free the slaves; he’s respected because of that. He refused the captaincy and would have refused his current position but his people wouldn’t let him.”

  “It would be well for me to get to know him. Popular leaders are dangerous.”

  Methrym doubted Nisim was a danger. Terriss now; he was a different proposition altogether. Terriss was more than dangerous, but not in a political sense. He would make an excellent war leader or even an assassin. Keppel had already taken note of Terriss and his position within the tent. How he knew of him was anyone’s guess but he obviously did. The Snake was afraid of nothing, everyone knew that, but he was also far from a foolish man as he demonstrated by giving Terriss a wide berth. The crowd quieted as Keppel and Methrym stepped to the fore and turned to face them.

  “The war is off!” he said eliciting laughter from all sides. “Seriously, I have new orders to break off from Wakiza and march east. I’ll need the men ready to go—”

  “This is madness!” Soren yelled. “We have Wakiza right where we want—”

  “Are you refusing?” Keppel said quietly.

  “No I—” Soren broke of worriedly.

  “Good. Your emperor expects this army to move, and it will move. He expects you to destroy the Japuran threat in the east, this you will also do,” Keppel said then in a dangerous voice, “Do we all understand?” he said with eyes boring into Soren.

  Soren nodded nervously as did most of those present in the tent. Terriss had a look of speculation on his face, Joz and Nisim looked bewildered—they didn’t know who and what Keppel was.

  Methrym cleared his throat to bring all eyes back to him. “As I was saying, we move in two days. You have preparations to make, I suggest you get to it.”

  “We might have a problem there,” Lorenz interjected before anyone moved to leave. “Lord Chalek is being… difficult shall we say.”

  “Difficult? In what way difficult?” Keppel said before Methrym could speak.

  “Lord Chalek does not like Methrym, Keppel. Actually, he doesn’t like any of us. Trying to get supplies out of that man is like trying to get a whore to give you one for free,” Lorenz said laughing. He turned to the two Japurans. “No offence.”

  Joz and Nisim were grinning. “None taken,” they said in unison.

  Methrym snorted. They may have chosen to keep the name, but as far as he knew Nisim’s people were no longer whores in the true sense of the word. They were very free with their bodies true enough, but they kept it in the family so to speak. Bed hopping was rife in the whore’s camp, but if an outsider tried to get in, he would be lucky to get out in one piece.

  “I will deal with Lord Chalek,” Keppel said. “Prepare your men. The supplies you need will be provided. That I promise you.”

  “Ah… Keppel?” Methrym said.

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t think you ought to, you know, kill him or anything.”

  Keppel snorted. “There are worse things than death. You would do well to remember it.”

  He decided to leave it at that. It was never wise to become involved with Keppel’s business. “I’m sure you’re right.”

  The meeting began to break up, but Methrym held back Terriss, Joz, and Nisim. Keppel was still interested in the Japurans it seemed and remained behind also.

  “What do you want of my people?” Terriss said almost angrily.

  He took no offence. Terriss had been like that since the Japurans overran his people’s land. Swearing an oath to oppose the Japurans last year, only to be run off a few seasons later was galling him badly.

  “I want you to do what you promised you would do.”

  Terriss frowned. “You say we’re not going to kill Wakiza now. Promise finished.”

  Keppel shifted slightly and Methrym hurried to explain before he lost an ally. “It will still work in the east. Wakiza will be here for you when we have finished,” he said, but he hoped he was lying. If Keppel decided the right way then he was.

  “Your plan will take time, time we don’t have,” Terriss said.

  That was partly true, but Methrym felt it could still work. The original plan had called for building a trap for Wakiza, but time was short. Well, Tanjung Malim was already built. What Vexin would say was something he did not like to think about. The risk to the city was extreme, but the times called for extreme measures. If Ranen fought anything like Wakiza, it would work. One thing they had always had trouble doing was bringing the Japurans to battle. Oh, he didn’t mean skirmishes or hit and run raids. No, he meant a full scale battle in fixed positions. The battle of the valley had been the first time he had brought Wakiza’s forces into a prepared position where the Japurans had to stand and fight. The result had been victory for him for the first time in this war. Victory or no victory, he had been well aware for a long time that he had to bring the Japurans to ground, but Wakiza had not allowed it. The strike leader would always bypass his carefully laid traps and battlefields to strike at cities and towns behind him. It had been infuriating, but now the pattern was set. It all depended on Ranen’s training. If he was good like Wakiza, then this would work and Ranen was a dead man.

  “Ah… you want us in the city,” Terriss said finally realising what he had planned.

  He nodded.

  “What of us?” Joz said indicating Nisim and himself.

  “I don’t have anything specific in mind. Your people are Borderers now. You can assist Terriss.”

  Joz nodded and agreed to do that. Joz and Nisim made to leave but Keppel spoke up.

  “I would speak with you, Nisim.”

  Nisim looked surprised. He whispered something to Joz who nodded and left.

  “What would you have of me?”

  Keppel seemed to ignore the question. “I have heard that you are the leader of your people. Is that correct?”

  Nisim made a face, which Methrym felt sure Keppel made a note of.

  “In a manner of speaking,” he said. “They chose me to lead them, but I don’t really. All I do is listen to their problems and ask them what they think should be done. They know the answer already. I only need to point it out to them.”

  “I will be travelling with the army to Malim,” Keppel said. “I would like to speak with you again.”

  Nisim looked as confused as Methrym felt. What by the God did the Snake have to talk about with Nisim? It wasn’t as if they had a lot in common!

  “I’ll look for you on the journey then,” Nisim said.

  “I’ll find you,” Keppel said.

  Nisim nodded and turned to leave.

  Keppel watched Nisim leave the tent with a small smile on his face. Methrym didn’t like the look of it.

  “This Nisim will prove useful to me,” Keppel mused aloud.

  “Useful how?”

  “That is not your concern,” Keppel said and left Methrym standing alone.

  * * *

  15 ~ Breakthrough

  “Do you see it?” Shelim asked intently.

  “Hmmm,” Julia said concentrating on her mage sight.

  “The string is heading north now, but when Kerrion first found the thing it went in a westerly direction.”

  “Uh huh…” she said vaguely.

  The book was fascinating reading in its own right. She hadn’t had time to read all it contained, but the small snippets she had managed to peruse gave her a view of the clans from a unique perspective. True, the book had been written by a sorcerer, but the author had
been masquerading as a shaman for years—successfully to! The hand written accounts were surprisingly free of bias, and from what Shelim said, she gathered the book held an accurate account of clan life. She was determined to study it thoroughly. She skimmed through the book until she again found a discrepancy. A single page written in a different hand stood out from nearby pages. There were just a few short sentences on an otherwise clean page.

  “What do you think of this?” she said proffering the book to Shelim.

  He read the words and flicked back a few pages then forward a few. “Someone else wrote this page. The hand is different and the tone is more commanding.”

  Julia nodded. “You’re right. We already know this book is linked to another one somewhere. Obviously a page was written in that other one and appeared here as I assume words written here appear there.”

  He flicked through and found another instance. “This time he’s asking for more detail about the Gathering. I think you’re right. The man who wrote these pages was Duran’s chief.”

  She smiled. “The Hasians don’t have chiefs, but I take your meaning. Yes, Duren and the others were spies, scouts if you will, sent in before the legions. You’re sure the string went west?”

  “Yes. Larn has one of these, but we destroyed the others with their owners.”

  “A pity,” Julia said taking the book back.

  “Why a pity? What use could they possibly be now?”

  She shrugged. “There could have been many uses, but only one comes to mind right now. We could have written in this that the clans will attack in a certain way. When the enemy reads it, we attack differently.”

  “That should surprise them!”

  “It probably wouldn’t have. I’m sure the sorcerers would check through the mirror first.”

  Shelim nodded ruefully. “I should have thought of that.”

  That the string went north now wasn’t a surprise. Julia had already guessed that Navarien’s sorcerers had journeyed to Calvados by sea. Obviously the books had been sent along to provide advanced knowledge of the clans. The books themselves were of less use now that the fake shamen were dead, but the damage had already been done. Navarien knew how many warriors opposed him and in what way that opposition was likely to manifest itself. That was a strong advantage. The only way she could see to negate it was to do the unexpected. By changing Tobiah’s plan, the clans would make the information the legions had acquired, if not useless, then certainly less damaging.

  “You must ask Kerrion to persuade Kadar to change the plan.”

  “Tobiah is the one we need to convince,” Shelim pointed out.

  “I know, but he won’t see me. I’m a disgusting outclanner remember?”

  Shelim flushed with embarrassment.

  Julia smiled. Shelim knew she was right, but he was uncomfortable hearing Tobiah’s bigotry so openly expressed. Every man and woman of the clans was prejudiced against outclanners, and that included Shelim and the other shamen. But they had come to respect Julia and those with her. Not so Tobiah, and not so most of Wolf Clan’s people. There were exceptions of course—Kornel and his son, Petya and his, a few others, but Wolf Clan was by far the most outspoken against the outclanners in their midst.

  Shelim explained his reasoning, “Kadar can’t overrule Tobiah, and nothing else will work. He’s a proud warrior and won’t let himself appear to be subordinate to Kadar. He is chief of chiefs and will act like it.”

  Julia hesitated. Shelim seemed so sure. “Perhaps Kemen can persuade him then. Surely a Wolf Clan shaman’s words will have more weight.”

  “I will talk to Kemen,” Shelim said in agreement. “But I doubt Tobiah will listen. The chiefs have been planning this war since Tobiah won the tournament. I doubt they’ll be pleased with him trying to change things at this stage.”

  “But that’s stupid! This book has told Navarien how to beat you. Surely he will see that?”

  Shelim looked down and mumbled something that Julia failed to catch.

  “What was that?”

  Shelim sighed and looked back up. “I said only shamen know of the books. Everyone else believes the challenges were between shamen, not between a sorcerer and shaman.”

  She gaped. No one knew? Surely someone would have asked why shamen were killing each other? “You will have to tell them then.”

  “We can’t!” Shelim cried in agitation. “Warriors have little use for us as it is. If they ever found out that some of us were enemy scouts I don’t know what would happen.”

  “You must be exaggerating.”

  “I’m not. Warriors will never admit fear of another, but it’s there just the same. Shamen are other is a well known saying among my people, Julia. Shamen are strange, shamen are other. Shamen never marry by tradition, but that tradition came about because no woman would want a shaman for her husband. Warriors tolerate us at best; they need us for healing. It wasn’t always that way, we were councillors to the chiefs, but it is now.”

  A lot more was making sense to her now. No wonder Kerrion had led the raid to free her. Kadar had been in a terrifying rage over that. She’d had to talk him down for candlemarks before he would let his anger with Kerrion go. She had thought him angry because Kerrion had usurped his authority, and of course that was part of it, but now it seemed the problem was much deeper.

  “I’ll see Tobiah.”

  “And if he won’t see you?”

  She smiled coldly. “I won’t let him refuse.”

  Shelim left shortly after that leaving her to her reading. As she read about clan life, something kept nagging at her. It was very off putting that niggling in the back of her brain. What had she forgotten? No, that wasn’t it. Something in the story then? No, that wasn’t it either. She closed the book keeping a finger inserted to hold her place. She glanced around the tent but could see nothing that would cause the feeling of something undone.

  Julia grasped her magic and contacted Mathius. *Is anything wrong there?*

  *Not unless you call Lucius pulling his hair out wrong,* Mathius replied.

  *Nothing unusual in that,* she said with a grin.

  *I’ll have you both know that I never pull my hair out. It’s my beard!* Lucius put in.

  Julia laughed. *Why are you tugging it this time?*

  *The usual. The mirror doesn’t—*

  She gasped and missed the last part of what Lucius was saying. The mirrors! That was what the nagging was. The books worked as the mirrors had so far failed to do!

  *I’m coming over Lucius,* she said grinning in delight now. This was it, she could feel it.

  *We’re in my tent,* Mathius said.

  *Thanks.*

  Julia ducked outside and began walking through the camp. The tents belonging to Keverin’s men were drab and utilitarian compared with the much taller and bigger clan tents. They were a drab dirty green colour that faded into the surroundings. She was sure that was intentional. Keverin would use any advantage to help his men survive. Camouflage was not unheard of here it seemed. The green tents were as close to invisible as it was possible to get.

  Mathius’s tent wasn’t far away; she ducked inside full of anticipation.

  “What’s funny?” Lucius grumbled glaring at his reflection in the mirror he held.

  Julia picked up another mirror that had been discarded not far away. It was very off putting seeing a bearded man staring back at her rather than her own reflection. She snickered and watched the face in her mirror darken.

  “I’m sorry Lucius,” she said, trying unsuccessfully to school her features. “Of course it’s not funny in the least. I’ve found something that will help you. Shelim found it and I’m passing it on to you.”

  Lucius frowned at the book, but he did take it from her. He opened it at random and read a few passages. “How does this help?”

  “What is it?” Mathius said throwing another mirror down onto the rugs.

  Julia winced, but it did not break thank goodness. They didn’t need seven ye
ars bad luck on top of everything else.

  “It’s an account of the clans written by a sorcerer posing as a shaman,” she explained. “If you use your mage sight you will see something extremely interesting, something that will have you both grinning I think.”

  They each raised an eyebrow at that. They were like twins in their expressions, but Julia didn’t say anything and managed not to laugh. Lucius shrugged and grasped his magic with Mathius a moment behind.

  “Do you see the string?” she asked eagerly.

  “Yes,” they chorused.

  “That goes to another book in Calvados—rather we believe it does. When you write in this one it appears within that other, and we believe the reverse is true too. Will that help do you think?”

  Mathius looked up. “Do you mean to tell me that all our experiments in contagion magic are useless?”

  Julia’s grin slipped. “I… well, yes I suppose… so.”

  Mathius moved toward her with a stern and forbidding look on his face, which dissolved into a grin as he hugged and lifted her from her feet. “This is wonderful!” He shouted as he whirled her around.

  Julia laughed in delighted relief.

  “So that’s how it’s done,” Lucius said. “Our experiments aren’t wasted, Mathius. We can combine the two spells. Our mirrors work up to a point; they just fail to show the correct images. With this… linking spell let us call it; with this linking spell we should be able to solve the problem,” he broke off frowning. “If Mortain can make linked books, why doesn’t he adapt this for use in mirrors?”

  Julia shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe he didn’t think of it, or maybe someone else made the books. I think it’s more likely that he’s just blindly following tradition.”

  Lucius raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

  “One good thing about the Protectorate is its stability,” she said. “The system that continues to produce Mortains and Godwinsons is based upon tradition. Mortain rules because that is how things are. Mortain is strongest, because Mortain is always the strongest. Do you follow me?”