Resurgence

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Resurgence Page 30

by Alex Janaway


  Michael huffed. ‘And what’s that? A fool? A killer who thinks too much?’

  She shook her head. ‘You are a good man.’

  Michael felt his eyebrows rise.

  ‘Those whose lives are filled with pain, loss, violence, they bear deep wounds.’ She tapped her head. ‘Up here. Those wounds are difficult to heal. Many never do. I think yours finally have.’

  ‘I’m not sure they’ve healed. My head still hurts all the time.’

  ‘That’s just you using your brain for once.’ Yarn laughed again. ‘Some of us are better at thinking than others.’

  Michael decided to leave any comments about where thinking got you to himself. Yarn already knew that lesson. He stood up. ‘I had better go. We are all leaving tomorrow. It’s going to be another long journey.’ He reached out a hand and pulled her up.

  She waved an arm to encompass the Gifted at work. ‘And I don’t get to see the fruits of my labours. Story of my life.’ She stoppered the canteen and handed it back to him.

  Michael shook his head. ‘Keep it. A little morale for the road ahead.’

  ‘My thanks.’

  He took a step forward.

  ‘Father? Michael?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Ellen reached out to me. She told me what she did. She told me that you know. And yet you have not reported to anyone what you saw. What it means.’

  ‘I saw nothing, only my friend helping to save all of our lives.’

  He started walking.

  Part Two

  CHAPTER 43 – NADENA

  The skies to the north looked ominous. They had been grey and oppressive all day, but now a lower, darker mass was rolling underneath the lighter covering above. A storm. On the plains it was possible to see it coming from many miles away and prepare for it. More often than not that meant sheltering in her covered wagon or hoping her tent was secured tightly enough. She always took care to test each peg herself – even though soldiers were detailed to erect it for her. Her memories of the first time she had travelled this way were still fresh; she, Alica and Hedra had been nearly blown away by ferocious winds she had never encountered before, their tent literally taking off around them and disappearing into the night. After the sheer terror had subsided, they had even laughed about it as, sodden and dirty, they had welcomed a bright warm morning. It had been a more innocent time, then. Even though their purpose was grim, none of them had yet encountered the reality of war, had not witnessed the screaming, the blood and the pain.

  It had been an adventure.

  Now she understood the value of the death dirges, the ceremony to send the departed on their way. It was not for the dead, it was for the living, to cleanse their souls of the guilt and the shame. To shed their heavy burdens of dark thoughts and emotions, to carry only the good forward. She understood it, valued its purpose and the outcomes it had been designed to achieve. But it hadn’t worked for her. She did not think herself special, rather she doubted even the dirges could account for the woes she had suffered. No elf for millennia could have encountered such a thing as she had. It was not their way to undertake an endeavour so wholly evil, not towards a fellow elf. Although Fillion had not been an elf, not really, yet that fact did nothing to remove the stain on her psyche.

  As for the war they marched towards, it was not evil in nature. It was necessary. They marched to stop evil. It was just like her father said, how could humans be allowed to live if they perpetrated such acts?

  ‘My lady?’

  She shook her head, pulling herself out of the pit of her dark thoughts, and fixed her gaze upon the cavalry officer who had reined in next to her wagon.

  ‘What is it?’ she said, looking along the column to its head in the distance. ‘Are we stopping for the storm?’

  The officer shook his head, the plume from his helmet flowing around his shoulders. ‘Not this time. Our scouts have reported finding sign.’

  ‘Sign?’

  ‘Habitation. The remains of a camp.’

  ‘Human?’

  ‘We believe so. It did not look like gnomes or dwarves. And there were tracks leading away. Horses.’

  She nodded. It was about time. They were nearly in the Riverlands, having moved northwest through the edge of the plains.

  ‘The general wishes to pursue their trail, before that storm arrives and washes it away.’

  ‘So we keep going?’

  ‘Yes, my lady, the scouts are pushing on but we don’t want to create too much distance between us. We must be alert now. With luck we may just catch the edge of the storm, we are heading obliquely away from it. Please excuse me, I must pass the message down the line.’

  The officer galloped off, along the lines of commissary wagons and the rearguard beyond them.

  ‘Looks like we may get wet,’ said her orderly, Meera, who held the reins.

  Nadena smiled at the young elf. This one had not seen war either. Poor thing. Nadena wished it could be otherwise.

  ‘Perhaps. If we do, get in the back. I’ll drive.’

  ‘My lady!’ Meera said, with genuine horror.

  ‘I mean it. Let me. I have no fear of damp clothing.’

  She could see Meera struggle with her duty and her chance to stay dry.

  ‘If you say so …’

  ‘I do,’ she said lightly. After all, it was her fault they were here. She was the one who’d fallen in love with a human.

  CHAPTER 44 – CADE

  Cade hopped off the wagon, leaving Evan to park it up by the bridge gate, and continued on by foot through the barracks. Though it might be better described as a fort now. The wall had been extended out on all sides and more buildings had been erected. There was a genuine palisade around the whole perimeter and that included the lakeshore side. The bridge itself was far better protected – on both ends – than ever before. To give Owen his due, he had put a fire under people. And there was no way an enemy was going to get to them without some effort now. As long as they didn’t have a navy. There had been talk of putting a wall around the Big Island. That would be nice. But it would take time.

  She walked past a section of militia drilling, local folk using long spears, overseen by one of the soldiers from the Emperor’s bunch. He barked out commands and they shouted out in response, adopting a crouched position, spears poking out like a hedge. It was quite good. Very regimented. But they could keep it. That wasn’t her style. She liked to keep things free and easy. Passing on the left, a bunch of Devlin’s cavalry were gathered in a loose circle. There were two men going at it with swords in the middle. Scratch that, there was one man getting owned by the other, who happened to be that big bastard, Michael, wearing just a simple tunic. She was still having issues getting her head around the concept of this guy being a man of the faith. But there he was, robes and everything, the protector of the Emperor. She stopped for a moment and watched. She had time.

  Michael was talking to the troops about what to do if they were unarmed. He dropped his weapon and had the man rush him. Sword held high, the man charged with a shrill shout. At the last moment Michael lowered his stance, took one step and put his shoulder forwards. The man bounced – he actually bounced off the big man – with a loud, ‘Oof!’ and fell to the ground, groaning. There was an outbreak of mirth around the circle.

  ‘Being charged by a screaming madman with a sword can be a fearful thing. Keep your wits, do what they don’t expect. A man who holds his nerve in attack or defence will carry the day.’ He stepped forwards, held a hand out to the prone man, and hauled him up. Michael clapped him gently on the back. ‘You alright?’

  ‘Emperor, Father. I think my ribs have gone.’

  Michael grinned. ‘Pain can be a great teacher.’ He saw Cade and nodded. ‘That’s it for today. Remember. Keep your heads. Don’t run. Walk. Save your energy. You only need to hit them once. Make it count.’ As the group broke up, Michael collected his robe and joined Cade.

  ‘Good morning, Cade.’

  ‘Father
.’

  He started to put his robes on. ‘Michael, please.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  He tied off the rope belt around his waist. ‘I don’t see you training that often.’

  Cade shrugged. ‘Not really the training type. I save it for the real thing.’

  He tilted his head. ‘One can get rusty.’

  Cade taped her head. ‘Not up here. Razor sharp and fearless.’

  Michael smiled. ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘Care to join me? I’m heading over to the council meeting.’

  ‘Yes. Thank you.’

  They set off in companionable silence. As they reached the far gatehouse Cade pointed at the low squat building that had been recently erected. ‘How are they doing?’

  ‘The Gifted?’

  ‘Yeah. I mean, I know you lot have put them to work and all that – and don’t mistake me – they are helpful and all, now that so many of my folk are training.’ She jerked a thumb back at the spear wall. ‘But aren’t they supposed to be our best fighters?’

  They both stopped as two guards went to withdraw the bar to the gates. ‘Morning, Cade,’ said one in greeting. She raised a hand back. It was telling that even now they were all united under the Sun banner once more, there were still some definite divided loyalties. And she didn’t mind that at all.

  ‘I suppose you are right,’ Michael said after some thought.

  The gates opened, and they walked through.

  ‘Just making the observation,’ she continued. ‘I know some of them made a play for the top spot. But you can’t go coating them all with the same shit, can you?’

  He did not respond.

  Ahead of them was the Imperial encampment. She’d been surprised that after his arrival the Boss had wanted to stay in his tent. There were plenty of fine houses he could have had. But that was up to him. She was sure as hell not going to offer up her place. Bad enough that the other priest had demanded the old church emptied of its occupants. As they approached the pavilion several vargr loped past. Their Nidhal riders raised fists Michael’s way and he responded in kind.

  ‘What a world we live in,’ Cade said, with a shake of her head.

  ‘They are good people. Honourable. Courageous.’

  ‘Not sayin’ they aren’t. But folk judge things as they see them. And I see shit scary.’

  ‘People used to say that about me,’ Michael grumbled.

  She looked at him. ‘You’re kinda proving my point.’

  Father Michael made a sour face.

  ‘Ah, cheer up, Father, I’ll stand you a pint later.’

  They entered the pavilion, passing two more Nidhal and proceeding into the atrium. From there they were ushered straight into the area held for meetings. Clearly, they were late.

  ‘Father, Councillor Cade, I’m glad you could join us,’ said the Emperor.

  ‘It is my fault,’ said Michael, as they scurried to their allotted seats. ‘I was training the soldiers and I bid the councillor wait for me.’

  ‘Well, I can’t disapprove of that, can I?’ said the Emperor with a ghost of a smile.

  Cade locked eyes with Michael and nodded her thanks. He’d earned that pint. She looked at the gathered faces, seated at a crude circular table their carpenters had knocked up. All the council were there as well as the Emperor’s lot, his military at any rate. She had yet to see any sign of all the other folk that were reportedly on their way home to Tissan.

  Speaking of which, it was as if the Emperor had read her mind.

  ‘Leader Cadarn, any word from the Admiral? Any sign of our fleet?’ asked the Emperor.

  Cadarn stood. ‘No, Your Grace. When my Rider departed, there was no sign. I continue to leave one on station with him, as per your orders.’

  The Emperor chewed his lip. ‘It is late in the day. Dare they risk the crossing? Have they even tried?’

  ‘If they have not already left, then I doubt we will see them until the Spring,’ replied Cadarn. ‘It depends on the Nidhal shamans, how much they can control the weather.’ He looked at the only Nidhal present, Immayuk, who in turn stood to reply.

  ‘If some ride with the others on the ships, then they can make the crossing. But with the winter storms, only the mightiest could protect a fleet.’

  The Emperor looked a little irritated; just for a moment but Cade clocked it. ‘Then let us hope they are safe. Thank you, both.’ The two speakers sat down. ‘Though I confess I will be disappointed if they do not. I had hoped they would swell our numbers. Every day grows closer to when we will have to make an account.’

  ‘Surely the season for campaigning has passed?’ asked Father Llews. ‘The weather is turning. Why, we may have to stay here all winter!’

  And? There were plenty of worse places to be wintering. It would get cold. But she’d felt a lot colder. Cade wondered at the sanity of the man. Nothing had suggested he had any screws in place.

  ‘Father Llews is anxious to start rebuilding Vyberg – as am I – but there are more pressing concerns. General Derle?’

  Owen looked up. ‘Your Grace?’

  ‘Your assessment? Is the campaign season over?’

  ‘The weather is starting to turn, that’s true. I’d say there are perhaps a couple more weeks before we can think about next year. It will give us several months to strengthen our defences and train the army. However, this is no normal war. The enemy might be coming regardless.’

  ‘Yes, I would agree with that. Thank you, General.’ The Emperor swept his gaze over the assembly, before resting on Cade. Wonderful. She loved that. ‘It would seem that Councillor Cade has scared off the enemy for this year.’ Again a ghost of a smile. Was that good? ‘Perhaps we should start thinking about the winter and beyond. It would seem another year before we can make further progress. Councillor Sent? Are there stores, supplies and such?’

  ‘There are, Your Grace. Though many are having to work harder to carry the load. The volunteers have drained our capacity to harvest, fish and the like.’

  ‘But there is always water, is there not? The Brevis is fresh water?’ the Emperor asked.

  ‘Quite so. But even here it can freeze over. And as I said, we are juggling competing demands.’

  ‘The focus seems clear to me,’ the Emperor said, tersely.

  ‘Perhaps there is more that can be done?’ asked Rabb. Bloody lick ass. ‘The war effort requires more swords, more armour.’

  ‘Yes, this is a critical moment,’ agreed the Emperor. ‘Councillor Sent, are you sure there is anyone not employed in the business at hand?’

  ‘Everyone works towards sustaining or training, Your Grace. Only the sick are exempt.’

  The Emperor put his finger to his lips and tapped them. ‘I understand that many of the vineyards are still being managed. Surely there are better things that can be attended to? Those that labour on grapes can labour on walls, or in the shield wall, just as well.’

  Oh, that was too much. Cade started to take the floor but Carlha beat her to it.

  ‘Your Grace,’ she said, with deep bow. ‘Might I be permitted to make an observation?’

  The Emperor smiled. ‘Of course.’

  ‘While it is true that many of us have maintained small staffs on our vineyards, it has been done with a view to the future. One you work so hard to secure for us, Your Grace.’

  Cade noticed another gracious smile from the Emperor. Damn, that girl was silver-tongued.

  ‘The matter at hand is one that, of course, weighs heavily upon all our minds. Yet we must not ignore the value, indeed the necessity, for the maintenance of morale. Of good spirits. Of the comradeship that comes from a shared bottle, whether around a hearth or a campfire. A fine wine takes us to a better place, evokes memories of finer times. I and my fellow vintners made a decision that the wine must keep flowing. So that those who fight to keep us safe in the years to come have some small measure of reward, a reminder of what they fight for.’ She smiled gently, locking eyes with the Emperor. Damn go
od.

  ‘They fight for the Emperor!’ said Father Llews, sternly. ‘They need no reminder!’

  ‘Peace, Father,’ said the Emperor, waving him down, his gaze still fixed on Carlha. ‘You speak well, my lady. I detect a certain lilt to your voice. Are you from here?’

  ‘My father held some land, a little further south. Though we spent many happy months at our townhouse in the capital,’ she acknowledged, a little shyly.

  ‘And is it your wine that I have found gracing my table since my arrival?’

  ‘A gift from a grateful citizen, my Lord,’ she said, almost curtseying.

  ‘It is Your Grace,’ admonished Captain Shepherd.

  ‘That is fine,’ the Emperor snapped. His face clouded for a moment, but he swiftly gathered himself. ‘My lady, how can I argue when you speak so much sense? I had grown accustomed to drinking chaga – my thanks to our Nidhal friends – but I always hoped one day I might taste fine wine again, even a Living God needs a little luxury!’ He grinned, looking around the gathering. ‘Your work is a critical addition to the effort.’

  And with that the threat was over. Cade eyed Carlha and slipped her a knowing wink. She had to hand it to her, she played the Emperor perfectly. Cade would probably have sprinkled in a few more swear words if she’d had the floor. And let fists fly if her damned vineyards got closed. That was cause for full-on rebellion in her book.

  Now though the conversation had moved on to safer ground, depending on your point of view. War stuff.

  ‘General,’ the Emperor shifted back to Owen. ‘What of the army? How goes the training?’

  Owen stood up and placed his hands behind his back.

  ‘The citizen militia have been working hard. I have tried to identify those with skills that can be put to use. There are a number who can fire a crossbow quite adequately. The Eagle Riders are helping to train them. Others who have skill with a horse, those I have given to Devlin and his cavalry, though we are light on mounts. Many of them are the ponies taken from the dwarves, but a few braver souls have chosen to try their luck on one of Major Roche’s spare camel mounts.’

 

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