The Council of Blades n-5

by Paul Kidd

  "Aaaah, the errant fiance! Your mentor in crime, I presume? An inventor of… climbing tools? Of thievish plans?" Ulia flicked a glance across the boy and bird. "Meat for the headsman's block. Take these two wretches away! They have led this poor girl, unwittingly, into a life of crime!" Ulia gave Miliana a pitying gaze rich with self-satisfaction. "Poor child. My poor, dear child."

  Soldiers clamped their hands onto Lorenzo and the bird. Lorenzo drained pale white, and Tekoriikii hid his face beneath one wing. Miliana-terrified and alone-gave them a dreadful gaze of despair, looking deep into Lorenzo's eyes.

  "Wait."

  Her voice, soft and husky, somehow carried through the room. The soldiers relaxed their grasp. Small, pale and frightened, Miliana dropped her gaze down to the floor.

  "I did it. I am the cat burglar. It is my fault alone."

  Lorenzo simply stared. Miliana drew a breath and raised her face, tears streaming from her eyes.

  "I wasn't going to keep them; I wanted to steal all the jewels, then hang them from the city walls just to show what I could do. It was… It was simply out of pride."

  "Miliana?" Lorenzo stared as he felt the soldiers let him go. Beside him, Tekoriikii's face emerged from hiding. "Miliana?"

  "These two tried to stop me. Lorenzo Utrelli and his-his pet bird." Miliana wearily raised a limp hand toward her two friends. "I wanted to take the Sun Gem, but they dissuaded me. Sir Utrelli is a scholar, and a perfect gentleman."

  Tekoriikii gave a soft trill of despair as he saw soldiers close about Miliana from behind.

  The princess waited like a lamb tethered for the slaughter.

  "I confess my crime. Do what you will with me."

  Lady Ulia swelled her breast behind a dangerous creak of bodice lace; power was her ultimate desire, and here were all her fantasies fulfilled.

  "Well, my dear. It seems our efforts to raise you as a lady have failed." The great horned hat assumed an air of absolute malevolence. "Since your crimes were motivated by pride and not by greed, I think we can apply a suitable corrective force; the owners of the gems will be pleased to cooperate now that they will have their goods returned.

  "We shall return them, and we will say no more about this 'thief'-forevermore. He shall disappear into oblivion," Lady Ulia's words brought a nod from all those around her; a forest of bribes would be little enough to pay for avoiding family scandal.

  "As for you, my dear: finishing school shall teach you the meaning of obedience and humility. Perhaps in a few years you will have learned the error of your ways." Ulia snapped her fingers at the guards. "Take her hence!"

  Miliana needed to be half carried from the room. Her hat fell aside, and Lorenzo saw the coils of magical spell sheets hidden deep inside. He caught her hat up with a cry and tried to press it into Miliana's hands.

  "Your hat!" The artist couldn't seem to make the girl take hold. "Miliana-you have to take your hat!"

  "Apparently, I shan't be needing it anymore." The girl seemed as ashen as a corpse; her energy drained out before Lorenzo's eyes. Leaning forward, she brushed at the artist's cheek with a secret, tragic kiss.

  "Thank you both for giving me a life-just for a little while…"

  Her whisper left Lorenzo's cheek stained wet with tears. Walking quietly between her guards, Miliana allowed herself to be led away. Behind her, Tekoriikii and Lorenzo could only stand locked within the shadows of her broken heart.

  "A great tragedy. A catastrophe! But one we quite expected, I am sure." Lady Ulia had found Miliana's fall from grace utterly cathartic; even the flood of rumors that would escape her net of bribes were not too great a price to pay; she would dine out upon the story until the end of time.

  The future couldn't be more perfect!

  Safely ensconced in the palace once more, and with her husband leading a wild hunt on the tail of Svarezi, Ulia looked forward to the continuance of the night's ceremonies.

  The gift painting from Lomatra was wheeled forward into place; the nobles and courtiers gathered admiringly around for the unveiling. If the young man trundling forth the painting was wet clean through and smelled of water weed, no one thought to comment aloud; it had, after all, been a most chaotic festival.

  Luccio passed the unveiling cord into Lady Ulia's hands and escaped out into the courtyard with his head held high. Sumbria's first lady gazed out in triumph at her guests, and let her words peal forth across the waiting crowd.

  "We have here the work of an unknown genius-but a man who has seen fit to encapsulate the very essence of our land." The mighty lady let her bodice swell with pride. "My lords and ladies! I proudly unveil a new masterpiece entitled 'The Sea Beast Rising from the Waves'!"

  The cord tugged, silken shrouds swept down, and there before the nobles, allies, and peers of Sumbria shone the risque portrait of the Lady Ulia herself.

  It is said that in far nations, barbarians still speak in fear of the earthquakes caused by Lady Ulia falling to the ground in a dead faint…

  10

  Hoof beats hammered at the soggy earth, deep, heavy blows that shuddered far down into the ground. The crushing weight of war steeds bearing armored men sent a shock wave rippling out into the frosty morning air.

  The Valley of Umbricci was deep enough into the cold slopes of the Akanapeaks to already feel the winter's bite. From the passes, the city of Sumbria could be seen basking under a warm autumn sun, while high above the valley, the great mountains shone with crisp new snow. Across the valley floor, the fruit trees hung heavy with the last crops of fruit, while the fields had all been shorn into stiff mats of brittle stubble. The dense-packed carpet crunched and splintered underfoot, making infantry lurch and curse as they struggled out into the open fields.

  The army of Sumbria marched up through the southern pass, made its way beneath the gigantic overhanging mass of rock and ice that loomed above, and thundered through into the valley like an all-destroying wave.

  It was unseasonable weather for an attack; an autumn campaign had been utterly unheard of for nigh on a hundred years. Rain might dampen bowstrings, swell the rivers, and churn the roads; snow might block the passes and bring sickness to the men. Only the most furious, impassioned warriors would stir themselves to war at such a time. Few causes couldn't wait for the long winter months to blossom bloodily into spring.

  Few causes-but for the foulest insult of them all. A broken contract of peace-honor trampled, pride destroyed. At the head of the first battle of troops, Prince Cappa Mannicci waved his mace over the valley floor and angrily pushed his forces on. They had marched for a day and a night without rest, a gamble that had successfully brought them through the pass without meeting a single Colletran scout. With luck they would overrun the valley and pour down the passes into the Colletran lands beyond.

  After sacking the city, Prince Mannicci would see the Sun Gem pulled from the ashes of her dead. The Colletrans had broken the rules of civilized war; in the name of that honorable law, the city of thieves must be destroyed.

  The terms of peace between the cities had been cast aside; the Colletrans had reneged on their solemn word, and had sent Svarezi to steal back the Sun Gem. Now the laughingstock of the Blade Kingdoms, Sumbria had no choice but to take back its pride with the point of its sword.

  The Lanze Spezzate of the Mannicci family brigades, all half-armored men on speedy horses, thundered down the track to the valley floor. Prince Mannicci watched them go and struck a fist against his saddle tree, willing his men into even greater speed.

  An approaching rattle of armor made Prince Mannicci tug his horse into a turn. Blade Captain Gilberto Ilego, sheathed in his armor plate of arsenic green, drew his mount up beside his lord and gave a gracious salute.

  "My prince."

  "Ilego." Mannicci barely spared the man a glance, choosing instead to stare with furious intensity across the stubble fields. "Form your men up on the right of my own. I appreciate the help you have given us in trying to hunt this Svarezi down. To you I give pr
ecedence and honor in the line of battle."

  "I am most grateful for your good opinion, Lord." Ilego sank slightly forward in a bow, hiding his dark, black eyes. "I shall attend to their deployment at once."

  The Blade Captain turned and rode away to his own units of billmen and archers. Mannicci watched him go, gripping and regripping his own reins in armored gauntlets that shook with hate.

  Hate for the Colletrans; hate for the false-hearted Svarezi, who had scorned the hospitality of the Mannicci house to carry out his city's abominable crime. Blade Captain Ilego had placed the stamp of reason upon the confused reports of the palace guard, placing guilt squarely in Svarezi's treacherous claws. For once, political differences had been set aside as the Blade Families became united as Sumbrians.

  It had taken five frustrating days to bring the army up to readiness, five days too long. Mannicci glared across the fields and willed his soldiers to win through.

  "My prince!"

  Wings clashed and clattered as a palomino hippogriff made a dainty landing nearby. The creature stood posed with its neck bravely arched and its forefoot high, making a proud sight as its rider saluted with his bow.

  "My prince, our air-scouts are engaged! The Colletran army is already through the northern pass, and is deploying into battle array."

  Prince Mannicci turned cold eyes to the immaculate young scout.

  "Have they prepared field fortifications? Did your sorcerers detect them tampering with the battlefield?"

  "No, my liege. They move forward in attack formation at best possible speed."

  "Then let them come to the slaughter!" Mannicci signaled to his heralds, waiting behind him in a row. "The army is to deploy into battle formation. All heavy cavalry is to brigade here with me." Horses turned, proud trumpets raised, and the rising challenge of the battle paean rose into the sky. Sitting square upon his golden horse, the Sumbrian prince stared in the direction of his fast-approaching enemy while behind him his soldiers transformed themselves into a single, perfect instrument of war.

  "There! I see the scum! There's a cavalry picket just behind the mill!" Prince Ricardo of Colletro, surrounded by his exquisitely armed and armored peers, lashed an ivory riding crop across his saddle bow. "We've found them right where Svarezi said they'd come!"

  Colletro's army swarmed past with weapons pointed at the slope and mud-stained boots clawing at the road. The burgonets worn by the infantry hid the soldiers' expressions; still, they gave their leaders a wide, disdainful berth, and spoke only in low and savage growls.

  They were being forced to refight a battle which already should have been won. If Svarezi had been prince, the Sumbrians would have been obliterated in the summer; loot would have been taken and honor would have been saved. Instead, the city faced a grim, lean winter, having paid a massive ransom in gold and grain to their enemies.

  Uncaring of the mettle of his men, Colletro's prince let his fine silver horse paw at the air and thrilled as revenge spilled into his grasp.

  "A fine thing, gentlemen! A fine thing that we sent Svarezi to the Sumbrian court. Without him, we would never have gained word of this sneak attack. They would have forced the passes and taken the valley in a single day!"

  Murmured agreement came from the fifty highest nobles of Colletro, the Blade Captains and their eldest sons, who had gathered here for war. Behind them, the heavy cavalry collected in reserve, forming itself into a single massive wedge of enchanted steel. The air flickered as hidden lightning spat across the skies; the Colletran battle mages were busy at their spells, preparing the troops for immediate attack.

  Above the stab and flash of spellfire, a new sound slowly arose: a swelling, deep, triumphant boom that made the nobles turn. All across the valley floor, tired soldiers stood to cheer. Men suddenly hoisted their helmets atop their pikes and bills. The whole army rose up with one unified roar of acclaim as a night-black hippogriff swept across the battle front, banked its wings, then sank down and clamped its claws into the ground.

  The troops cheered Blade Captain Svarezi, a soldier's soldier and a man obsessed with their victory. The general raised his gauntlet in a return salute, then held aloft a severed enemy head amidst the savage acclaim of his men.

  Svarezi contemptuously tossed aside his battle trophy, accepted the touch of helpful hands as he slid down from his mount, and with a curt order bid the hissing hippogriff to leave the soldiery unharmed. Immaculate in his black velvet-covered armor, Svarezi strode across the wheat stubble to his prince and peers.

  Prince Ricardo acknowledged the man with a wave of his ceremonial baton.

  "Valued cuz! Sweet captain!"

  "My lord." Svarezi's black-bearded face glared up at his elected monarch through the eye slots of his burgonet. "The air cavalry has returned their report; Sumbria's army has not yet managed to deploy."

  The announcement instantly snapped up the attention of soldiers nearby, yet failed to move the prince. Ricardo stroked slowly at his chin and gazed thoughtfully off toward the southern pass.

  "It would seem to be in form to allow him to complete his preparations. We are, after all, civilized men."

  "Sire, as we are civilized, intelligent men, we have no choice but to attack!"

  Ugo Svarezi spoke with a gravel-voiced roar, a sound more common on the parade ground than the court. He growled his words in his thick, foul common tongue, gathering an audience of noble cavalry and common foot soldiers who crowded around him in a growing throng.

  "Attack, my lord! Now-before they prepare their battle lines! They have broken the truce. Sumbria is not satisfied with the little gains from treaties. Now they come to take the valley, and the city, as their own!" Ugo Svarezi let his anger soar. "Form the cavalry. Lead the lancers yourself in a single, crushing blow! Make a single strike and gut the Sumbrians before they can deploy!"

  The troops greeted Svarezi's speech with a mad, incoherent roar; the cavalry horses reared in joy, pumping hooves into the air and slamming back into the ground in a stunning crash of armor plate. The army demanded an all-out attack, screaming its anger at the indecisive prince.

  Ricardo and his counsellors leaned their helms together to confer, their gilded armor twinkling in the sun. Reluctant acquiescence eventually occurred; Ricardo issued his orders, heralds spurred off toward the heavy cavalry commanders, and the battle mages rode up to take positions for the charge.

  The prince exchanged his baton for a heavy golden lance, allowing his pages to equip him for the attack; two servants helped to arrange his tabard skirts and helmet plumes, draping the prince's attire into clean, classical folds.

  "Very well, Svarezi, we shall take your good advice. You have served the city well thus far, so we shall finish Sumbria and be done with them!" Prince Ricardo inspected his helmet as a page held it up before his eyes, nodded abstract approval, and allowed the heavy metal casing to be lowered onto his head. "Who commands the bulk of Sumbria's air cavalry?"

  "Gilberto Ilego, my lord." Svarezi coldly sheathed his bow. "Not a warrior. He commands their air forces from the ground."

  "Then he should prove to be meat before your claws; support the cavalry attack from the skies."

  Ugo Svarezi's dark eyes were hidden as he tilted down into a bow.

  "It shall be as you command, my prince. I wish you joy of battle."

  Svarezi snapped his fingers to summon his battle staff, then strode back to his waiting hippogriff. Ignoring him, Prince Ricardo raised a benedictory hand over uncaring men and spurred his mount forward to join the front ranks of armored horse.

  Scarcely waiting to form, the dense wedge of armored cavalry spurred up the valley floor. The Elmeti, noble horsemen clad in fantastic full armor-man and horse-crashed through brush and orchards, grass and stubble with the slow-building momentum of an onrushing avalanche. Light lancers joined the flanks; mounted archers, sorcerers, and crossbowmen swarmed like clouds of gnats to the fore. The whole charge built haphazardly, collecting men and horses into an onrushing
wave of solid steel.

  At the forefront of his city's cavalry, Prince Ricardo thrilled to the sense of power rumbling in the air. All about him were packed the armored nobility-powerful men on heavy horses, crammed boot to boot and sheathed in flawless plate. The whole mass jammed itself tight, lances scarcely able to sink down for the attack. The cavalry reached hard footing and instantly increased its speed.

  "Onward! Onward!"

  There! On the hillside above, Sumbrian banners waved; the enemy was deploying from their march columns, pikes disarrayed and units in confusion. Warning trumpets sounded in the lines far beyond, figures churned in panic, and suddenly Colletro's cavalry felt a thrill of blood-red rage.

  With a formless snarl, the cavalry stabbed spurs into their horses, raking at the creatures' flanks. The mounts screamed, and the vast formation swept forward in a maddened charge.

  Trumpets pealed, and the call ran like fire in the nobles' blood. A thousand cavalry stormed ahead, screaming out in lust. Lance points sank as grass whipped past the chargers' flanks; horses pumped their legs in frenzy, hurtling themselves like meteors at the Sumbrian battle line. The faster beasts clawed to the front, slowly leaving lesser creatures behind as they stretched their necks into a blurring, deadly charge.

  "Colletro! Colletro!"

  A Sumbrian sorcerer fired from the hill; ice darts whipped into the cavalry, rattling from breastplates to leave a blood mist whirling through the sky. A catapult stone plowed through the ranks, crossbow bolts stabbed ineffectually across the air, and the cavalry blasted through the Sumbrian skirmish lines and crushed them to the ground.

  Swarming in a thin cloud far ahead of the avalanche of onrushing knights, the Colletran light cavalry struck home like a cyclone of fire; javelins and crossbows blasted a savage volley home, plowing into knots of Sumbrian officers and men. Sumbrian arbalests sheeted darts into the churning crowd, emptying saddles, and the ranks erupted as Colletran sorcerers unleashed a wave of spells.