“Matriarch, I’m so sorry but the army—”
“Which army?” she said with little interest. She stared at the letters lying at her feet.
“Bevyn’s army… it’s destroyed,” Nekane whispered.
“Oh,” she said. It was all she could say.
The door clicked shut leaving her alone in the dark. She had to be strong as never before. Her daughter would need her to be strong, so that is what she must be. Japura needed her to be strong; her people needed her. Nothing had changed about that, but it felt different. All their plans had meant nothing in the end. Wakiza defeated, Bevyn defeated, and now Ranen dead. Perhaps she was meant to be the last Matriarch. Nothing lasts forever. Perhaps it was just Japura’s time.
No! Her daughter must rule in her turn. That was the way it had been for thousands of years. That was how it was meant to be, and how it would be, but how? Yes, that is what she had to think about. How was Armina to rule a defeated Japura? Sue for peace and hope the evil Vexin accepted?
Never!
She would never make peace with the man who killed Ranen, but what else was there? There was not enough time to train another army. If she ordered every man to take up arms regardless of age and training she could field an army of stupendous proportions, but any army needed horses, and food, and swords, and armour. Where was she to get all that? It was said that Deva was building an army. Maybe Gylaren would come to her aid. No, he had the Hasians to worry about.
She needed allies. The Hasians were treacherous and the Devans could not help. That left only Tindebrai. Even after meeting with Verner a dozen times, she still knew so little about the Empire, but did that really matter now? She knew it was large. Waipara as a whole could fit within Marzina’s borders with ease. That meant the Empress needed a strong army to hold what she had.
She needed a go between, Talitha decided. She needed Verner.
* * *
26 ~ Illusion
“How did she know?” Mazel whispered.
Shelim kept utterly motionless as he watched the outclanners move warily by his hiding place. Behind them, they had left a warded camp on a hilltop to keep watch.
“You know how she is now,” Shelim said. “She does not explain. She doesn’t seem to care whether we do what she says or not.”
“Seem?”
“Ah well. Kerrion says she does care; cares very much. He says she is holding her feelings in, because if she let them out she would destroy us all. I don’t know about that, but if she could destroy these outclanners I wouldn’t complain.”
Mazel shook his head. “Outclanners are strange people…” he raised a hand to stop his protest. “I know of the farce you and Kerrion concocted and it doesn’t matter to me. If you wish to call her a Night Wind shaman that is your affair and Kadar’s, not mine.”
“It’s not a farce. She is Julia of the Night Wind now. Kadar thinks highly of her and so do you. Why else are we here?”
Mazel shifted uncomfortably at the reminder. He was chief of chiefs, but more often than not he did what Julia said. A few days ago, he had followed her advice to come here and fight in the hills, but now it felt as if he did nothing without first asking her advice. He did not like it, but the people were more important than his pride.
Shelim knew what Mazel was feeling; it impressed him that a warrior such as he could put aside both his pride and feelings for the good of all. Not many warriors would do the same. Certainly Tobiah had not.
“It doesn’t matter whether she guessed or knew in some other way,” Shelim went on. “All that matters is that she continues to be right.”
Mazel agreed with a nod. “Maybe she was a warrior in her previous life. The warrior within her told her these things.”
He stifled a laugh. “Perhaps she was a Horse Clan chief.”
Mazel’s humour faded as he watched the arrogant outclanners file by without realising how close to death they had come. “Perhaps she was,” he said seriously.
Shelim eyed him suspiciously, but Mazel was intent upon watching the enemy. He shielded his mirror from the meagre light of the dawning sky and called the image to the glass. Mazel moved in closer and together they watched the sorcerers atop the hill.
“I make it two hundred warriors,” Mazel said.
Shelim nodded. “And ten sorcerers.”
“We could kill them all easily,” Mazel said hungrily.
“Not easily, but we could do it.”
“I know, I know. We must follow the plan—Julia’s plan.”
“I know it’s hard, but she does know what she’s doing.”
“So far,” Mazel agreed.
Shelim changed the image and found the second Hasian camp. Again it was atop a hill giving them a good all round view of the land.
“This one is further south,” he said. “Both together?”
“That would be best,” Mazel agreed. “Today we plan this battle, tomorrow we kill.”
“Tomorrow,” he agreed taking one last look at the outclanners before fading back and following Mazel.
Shelim edged back until he was well clear of the outclanner scouts before running hunched over on Mazel’s trail. The chief ran silently, as he did, and it wasn’t long before they reached the others.
“Was she right?” Allard asked eagerly. The chief had recovered well from his wounds and wanted to avenge himself upon the outclanners for the loss of his friends.
“Mazel nodded. We follow her plan.”
“Showing ourselves goes against tradition,” Petya said.
“We have all seen how successful tradition is against these outclanners,” Mazel said quickly forestalling a debate.
“That wasn’t what I was going to say,” Petya said to the other chiefs. “I was going to say that it goes against tradition, but that will work for us here. Everyone knows how we fight. By changing now we gain surprise.”
“Yes, the monster will be surprised I think,” Shelim agreed. “Whether he will catch on I don’t know.”
“I do,” Mazel said regaining the chief’s attention. “This man is good. Julia knows him, and many of the Lost have seen his men fighting in the cities. He will realise what we are doing, but not for a day or so.”
“That is all I need,” Kornel said.
“No,” Mazel disagreed. “But it’s all we will have. After that this war is going to become ugly.”
“All war is ugly Mazel,” Shelim pointed out.
“Before this time, before the End Times I would not have agreed, but now…” Mazel shrugged. “There is no honour to be found here, only life for our people… or death.”
There were grim faces and nods of agreement all round.
“Each troop will take enough shamen to ensure victory. I want no arguments! We destroy the outclanners as Julia has said then move on. We need to be fast. We cannot afford to be pinned in place. Strike and move, strike and move until there are none left.”
“We know the plan,” Petya said. “Let us hope the monster does not know it.”
“He doesn’t,” Shelim said, but he had to qualify that. “Not yet at least.”
With those parting words, the chiefs clasped hands with friends they might not see again and left to return to their warriors. Shelim took Mazel’s hand last of all and faded into the grass to wait for Kadar. As soon as Kadar had satisfied himself with the lay of the land hereabouts, they returned to camp together.
As soon as he reached the camp, Shelim knew Julia was missing. Keverin’s horse was not where she had been, neither were the mounts of her two friends. He hurried to find Kerrion hoping nothing was wrong, and found him talking with Darnath and the other Night Wind shamen.
Shelim sat cross-legged opposite his mentor. “Where is Julia?” Grim looks answered him. “Kerrion?” he said looking to his mentor to explain.
“She’s gone looking for trouble,” Kerrion sighed. “She won’t listen to me.”
“Looking for trouble?”
“She went to fight the outclanners,
mentor,” Darnath said from his place next to Kerrion. “She said there was no harm starting early, and then she just left.”
“Mathius and Lucius galloped after her when they heard,” Gian said.
Shelim made to rise, but Kerrion clamped a hand upon his knee. “Don’t go, my boy. This is something she has to do. She will not thank her friends for interfering, nor you if you go.”
“But she’s in danger!”
Kerrion laughed. “We are all in danger.”
“But she’s—” Shelim broke off at the sound of thunder, but the sky was clear. “Thunder?”
Kerrion looked at the sky as the others were doing. “No, I think—”
Lightning stabbed down from the clear summer sky and grounded with a roar. Another bolt and another slammed into the hills in an unceasing cacophony of sound. The smell of ozone was strong in the air as silence finally returned.
“Two leagues north,” Shelim said. “Roughly two.”
They glanced at each other. “Julia,” they said together.
Again, the distant sound came to him as Julia fought her battle. What terrible rage was contained in that woman? To lose a love so great that death seemed preferable to living on alone must be the worst thing in the world. He hoped he never loved someone that much. It was more like an obsession than love. To turn away from life, was to waste that which the God had given her… It was wrong.
The next few candlemarks were split every now and then by the sound of Julia’s rage. No one called her to the mirror, or even reached out with their minds. None of them wanted to intrude upon her or her vengeance. Shelim sat quietly listening to the others, but each time Julia’s lightning hammered down everyone fell silent and looked to the sky wondering if this was the final time. The sky quieted once again and they resumed their conversations, but Shelim noticed the agitation among the warriors. He stood and went to see what was amiss.
“Nothing,” Kadar said.
“Something is bothering them,” Shelim said.
“Nothing to be done about it I meant. Julia is fighting while we sit and wait. That’s what’s bothering them.”
“And they want to join in?”
Kadar nodded. “So do I, but Mazel has ordered different. Tomorrow we fight and not before.”
Shelim wandered back to Kerrion. He was pleased that Kadar was doing as he should, but he did not blame the man for wanting to do differently; he felt the same. Julia should not have gone; she wasn’t following her own plan, yet she expected the clans to follow it.
Lightning hammered down again. Bolt after bolt grounding to the northwest this time. Shelim judged she was close to the river. After a moment his brothers ignored the noise and continued discussing the new magic they had learned from Lucius.
* * *
Julia ignored the shouts and screams of battle going on just ahead. A large contingent of cavalry had entered her hills yesterday and secured, or so they thought, two hills. By coincidence, the taller of the two was where she had hidden before annihilating a Hasian legion last year. The fight was coming to a close now with the clans the winner again. As Jihan had thought, the legion was at a disadvantage here and the clan warriors were using the land to wreak havoc.
“How many?” she asked coldly.
Mathius used his mirror for a moment before replying. “Less than two hundred. They look like the ones who escaped yesterday.”
“They didn’t escape today.”
“No, but they took twice their number with them!”
“It doesn’t matter. As long as they kill legionnaires they’re dying for a purpose.”
“Whose purpose, yours?” Mathius snarled angrily.
Julia stood up from her concealment and made her way down from her hill. At the bottom, Cavell stood with a horse for Mathius. She patted Cavell sadly then struggled into the saddle. The warhorse was much larger than the horses she was used to, but as with Kev’s cloak, his horse made her feel closer to him. Cavell was Keverin’s horse, first last and always, but when Cavell trotted into Denpasser alone she had allowed herself to be mounted by Julia. No other could ride her. She found Cavell a gentle beast, warhorse, or no warhorse.
Julia rode to the site of the battle taking note of the dead sorcerers. There wasn’t much left to count, but she thought there was at least ten; shame it hadn’t been more, but there was still time. Petya was grinning and waiting for her to arrive. Although he had lost a good many warriors, he was clearly pleased with the result of his battle. That was good, because so was she.
“They’re all dead?” she asked hoping for a prisoner.
Petya nodded, “All.”
“A pity,” she said as she looked at the corpses lying scattered all over the battlefield. “Have you wounded?”
“Around forty… could you?” Petya said hopefully.
She glanced at Mathius. The sun indicated the day was barely begun. She had time she decided and dismounted. Petya sighed in relief and led her to the wounded men. As she worked, she noted that most of the lightly wounded men were wearing bits and pieces of legion armour they had pilfered from the bodies of the slain legionnaires. She smiled in approval when Petya directed his warriors to do the same here. She quickly finished her work leaving Mathius to tend the last couple of injured warriors; they did not appear badly wounded and should not present him with a problem.
“You are right to take the armour,” Julia said to the chief. “But wrong in what you are doing with it.”
Petya glared at her so she shrugged and climbed into the saddle without continuing.
“Wait!” Petya said as she began to ride on. “What am I doing wrong?”
She stopped and looked down at him then at the warriors who were strapping pieces of armour on. “Armour should be worn as a set, not in pieces. Have your strongest warriors wear it and use them in front of your unarmoured men. When you have enough, march them like legionnaires to fool the outclanners and you might strike at their heart.”
Julia rode away west not bothering to find out what he thought of the idea. She did not care.
Mathius was quiet as they made their way through the hills; just as well, she had nothing to say. She absently wondered whether Brian had awoken, probably not she decided. Shelim had tried to heal him in the off chance that his magic was in some way different. It hadn’t been.
The first she knew that she was close to her goal was when a scout popped up from his hiding place. She nodded to the Horse Clan warrior and asked if everything was ready.
“Mazel said to say that the scouts have definitely been seen, and that the legionnaires are moving this way.”
“Good.”
The scout nodded and faded back.
She motioned Mathius on and they rode to their next hiding place. Leaving Cavell with reins hanging to hobble her at the base of the hill, She climbed quickly and flattened herself to the ground when she reached the top. She could see the ward clearly with her mage sight, but with her unaided eyes she saw only what appeared to be a small clan camp. The illusion was perfect.
Remembering another illusion she had seen, she had suggested to Lucius that he construct this one to show some warriors moving around. Lucius hadn’t thought it possible, but with a little thought and a few suggestions from her, he had created a set of illusions each with a view a fraction different to the next. Each picture was like a frame of film and was animated by magic. Even using her mage sight, Julia couldn’t see the joins. She supposed she should to be excited about inventing a magical version of moving pictures, but all she cared about was killing Hasians.
“It looks good.”
Mathius nodded. “We’re killing the legionnaires,” he admitted. “But we’re losing too many warriors ourselves.”
“Don’t start that again! This is a war Mathius. People die in war.”
“But not to no purpose!” Mathius said angrily.
“Tell Mazel there’s no purpose in opposing the Hasians. Tell anyone, and they will tell you what purpose there
is. They are fighting for their land and their families.”
“I didn’t mean that and you know it!” Mathius said hotly. “The clans should go around! Their land is empty and—”
“And what of Deva?”
“You’re using them,” Mathius said sadly.
“And if I am, are you the one to tell me I’m wrong?”
Mathius was silent and he wouldn’t look at her.
“Besides, I’m not using them,” she said frowning at the fake camp. “They want the Hasians dead as much as we do, as much as I do anyway.”
“I want them stopped, not dead!”
“You can’t have one without the other, Mathius, and anyway, stopping them won’t do. What would happen if Navarien stopped here?”
“The war would be over.”
“Wrong! The clans won’t accept outclanners on their land; especially not after what happened to Dragon and Wolf Clans. Jihan isn’t too thrilled having Navarien camped on his border either. You know Mortain won’t give up Mathius, this is for the best.”
Mathius sullenly contemplated the empty hills—what looked like empty hills. The silence was deceiving. The fake camp was just that—fake. No clansman would die when the legion attacked it. Instead, seeded through the hills were Kerrion’s shamen waiting to attack in turn. Once the legion wards were neutralised Mazel would attack with every warrior he had in an effort to overwhelm the legion quickly. Speed was essential in this battle, as it was in all battles against Navarien. The General was too good to allow him time to think. They must win with hit and run tactics. Admittedly, this fight was on a larger scale than clan raids usually were, but mind-speech would see to it that everyone attacked at the same time.
“How far away are they?” Julia asked.
She already knew the answer, but Mathius needed something to do. He was prone to brooding and needed the distraction of work. He was like she used to be. She smiled affectionately at his bowed head. He was checking his mirror for the legion and didn’t see her smile.
Had she changed that much?
Yes she had. Her smile wilted as she thought back to the innocent she had been. Two and more years ago, she had been a shallow person she knew; she had matured enough now to know that about herself. Her entire world had been gymnastics and winning gold. Nothing else had mattered to her. She had been all me, me, me back then. Keverin had recognised the selfishness in her and had pulled her up short many times. She had hated him for it.
Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 Page 137