by Alex Janaway
And still there was no sign of the enemy. In the sky to the south, Michael could spy eagles, finally visible as the sun rose higher. Owen and his remaining Riders were all up, checking on the encampment just a couple of miles away. The Plainsfolk were still out there somewhere as well, skirmishing with elf pickets all night. They still had scores to settle.
‘This is fun.’
Michael looked along the line to the end. That voice sounded like Cade but he couldn’t see her. She was somewhere in the gathered group of remaining folk from Brevis, a mix of nationalities. The Erebeshi stood with them.
‘If they aren’t coming, can we hit that alehouse?’ a marine muttered.
‘Pretty thirsty myself,’ said Michael, quietly. ‘Ow!’ he hissed as Ellen nudged him in a sore spot.
‘Is that a joke?’ she said with a small smile. It was a joy to see it. He had thought perhaps she was lost, in a way he had been. Of all the Gifted who had come to fight, she was the last. Ah, no, he reminded himself, there were five up there in the sky.
‘Here we go,’ Fenner announced.
A ripple passed through the line as everyone spotted the eagles. They were coming back.
Michael rolled his shoulders, picked up his blade. The elf weapon. It was not heavy enough. He should find another.
The eagles joined each other and flew in formation right toward the slope. At the bottom, a group of riders were making their way over the bridge. Plainsfolk. They looked in no hurry. The central eagle flared, hovering above the slope. It was Owen, he was waving his hands and shouting.
‘What’s he saying?’ asked someone.
Michael wasn’t sure. He had not been party to any specific signal being agreed.
‘They’re going,’ said Ellen. ‘He just pulsed to me, and the Emperor.’
Cheering was coming from the Emperor’s party, and it was starting to spread.
‘They are moving south, the whole lot of them!’ she continued.
Had it truly worked? ‘They are running?’ he asked.
‘More like walking but yes Owen says they have left a bunch of broken wagons and headed off south.’
Fenner collapsed in a heap on the floor. ‘Good. I’m going to sleep. You lot can carry me back.’
Michael grinned. Ellen laughed. And the two of them embraced.
CHAPTER 81 – CADE
The gates of the Brevis barracks opened and out flooded a crowd of citizens, whooping and cheering, running towards their much-reduced army. The Emperor, at the head of the column, was almost swamped, his horse doing well to keep calm as well-wishers surrounded him. He raised his hands waving at those gathering around him. His bodyguard were hovering just behind, but not circling round to give him protection. Cade had to admit, the Emperor made a smart move there; making everyone think he was a man of the people. She probably would have done the same thing, if she’d been in charge. She and everyone else waited patiently, almost forgotten. No more than fifty walking Tissans, a bunch more in wagons and almost three hundred Nidhal. A third of the number that had marched south. Killen stood next to her, watching them all with an odd look on his face. Those crowds may not be so rapturous when they stopped to take the toll. A lot of folks would be mourning tonight, families that had only just come together in the hell that had been the dwarf mines, who had tried to build something here.
Someone had grabbed the Emperor’s reins and was leading him on, through the crowd and into the barracks. The Emperor kept on waving. She guessed when you had a god complex, personal safety was unimportant. Total bullshit, of course. The Emperor. The Living God. Sure, he’d fought the elves. Good for him. So had all of them. And they didn’t have bodyguards. Although that was not precisely true. She’d found Evan on their side of the hill that morning. He lay atop a dead elf. And she was damn sure he’d been the one to save her, to take the hit on that mad last charge. Soft lad.
The crowds that were following the Emperor now turned to the rest of them offering welcome and solace. The army walked through the gates, nodding and waving at familiar faces stationed on the walls. Cade noticed the Nidhal hanging back, unwilling to enter. Instead they turned towards the area they had previously camped in. They had been a solemn bunch on the return, no doubt they had shit to sort out.
‘I’m going to check on the camels,’ Killen announced. ‘See if Bajin actually remembers me.’ Cade nodded as he walked away, his remaining scouts falling in wordlessly behind him.
Devlin stood to one side, arms crossed and stony faced. Cade broke off and ambled over.
‘Alright?’ she asked.
His eyebrows rose a little. ‘You tell me.’
Cade pretended not to know what he was talking about. She turned and watched the remaining wounded Tissans roll into the barracks. Those she been walking with started to help get them off and comfortable. Rula stood atop a wagon directing the work. No one bothered to follow the Emperor. She got it, it didn’t feel right.
‘How many of ours made it?’ Devlin asked.
‘Hmm?’
‘Our lot?’
‘Oh. Not many, not of the original crew. A couple. Evan didn’t.’
‘Shit.’
‘Yeah. Maybe a half dozen of the Highlanders. Tough bastards.’
Devlin was silent for a moment. ‘They’re all waiting in the square.’
Cade rubbed the back of her neck. ‘That’s where the Emperor is headed,’ she replied.
‘Uh huh. It makes sense.’
‘There’s going to be loads of speeches and shit.’
‘A few, I’m sure.’
She had to show her face either way. Important to be seen and all that. ‘Come on, then.’
Together they walked through the barracks, out on to the bridge and across to the Big Island. Cade walked slowly, her whole body was sore. Devlin wasn’t doing much better. He had the bruises to prove it. The crowds were still funnelling down the street, still excited and bustling.
‘You reckon we did enough back there?’ she asked.
Devlin shrugged. ‘We did the best we could have, all things considered. I don’t know how many we killed but we broke them, and we hurt them. They’ll be thinking on that. And they are a long way from home. From what I hear we took out some serious magic-users. That’s good. But if you are asking if they are coming back?’ Another shrug.
‘That dwarf said things were going to get interesting between them.’
‘And I reckon that gives us our best chance. In the short term.’
Cade would take that – she needed some time to manage tomorrow. The day after she’d worry about later.
They neared the square. People were backing up now, trying to push in. The cheering and general hubbub was still echoing around the street.
‘Make way – councillor coming through!’ Devlin got ahead of her, started to cajole and push, angling to the side, following the line of buildings.
Some folk recognised who was doing the pushing, saw Cade and shared their bonhomie, clapping her back and mouthing congratulations. Resisting the urge to punch her way out, she smiled and nodded, thanking those by name, if she could remember it.
They manoeuvred around the edge of the square. Cade looked over to watch the Emperor mounting the platform. He was still waving. The hero of the hour. Damn but people had short memories. She was going to have to watch that.
Reaching the midway point they found Krste’s wagon. On top were some of the usual suspects; Issar was sitting next to Krste on the driver’s bench. In the back was Anyon.
‘Lift up?’ said Cade, and Anyon extended a hand.
She got settled as Devlin followed her.
Cade reached out and put a hand on Issar’s shoulder. ‘Gang’s all here.’
He smiled at her. It was genuine and warm. Cade realised she’d missed the little snake.
‘How are we doing?’ she asked.
He nodded his head towards the platform. ‘Have a look.’ The Emperor had started speaking, the crowd responding enthusia
stically. She wasn’t that interested in what he was actually saying. She squinted at those standing behind him. As expected, the council would want to have a spot in the sun. But they were missing a few.
‘Who do we have?’ she mused. There was Carlha, of course. And Sent and Winders. All looked happy, from what she could tell by their postures. And why wouldn’t they be?
‘We did for most of them on the first night,’ said Issar.
‘Funny how people think a one-legged man can’t stab you in the neck as good as a two-legged one,’ remarked Krste.
That almost sounded philosophical.
‘Did anyone put up a fight?’
‘Nothing we couldn’t handle,’ said Anyon. He fingered a set of scratches across his cheek. ‘But Heled was a bloody nightmare,’ he said ruefully.
‘We decided to weed out some of the more fanatical locals too,’ said Issar. ‘We didn’t like to do that, but they made their choice, I guess.’
At least they’d had one.
‘Is anyone asking questions?’ A night like that, it’s going to be noticed.
‘A few. A lot of people were too worried about their own futures. But who are they going to speak to? Devlin and his lot are the closest thing to constables we have.’
Devlin grunted.
‘Besides,’ Issar continued, ‘we just made out they had joined the fight. Looking at how few came back, it’s easy to explain away.’
For most perhaps.
‘And what about them up there?’ she said, looking at what remained of the council.
‘All playing their parts,’ Issar said, a little cautiously. ‘Sent wasn’t convinced, but Carlha talked him round. Good thing too. If he’d disappeared, it would’ve been harder to hide.’
Yeah. He was handy to have around, and he liked being master of his own little empire. Speaking of which, the Emperor was still gabbling on. Talking about rebuilding the Empire. How everyone needed to weigh in. More cheering, though Cade detected a little less enthusiasm. Or was that just her, projecting?
‘Here we go,’ said Issar.
Sent was stepping forward. He started to talk about how everyone had played their part, how the victory was as much the people’s as the army’s. ‘And let us not forget those who gave their lives. And those who continue to put themselves forward to defend us. Cade? Where are you? Take a bow!’
Doing her best to ignore her protesting and increasingly stiffening joints, she got to her feet and raised a hand to acknowledge the crowd. She leaned in close to Issar ‘How’s the Emperor looking?’ she murmured.
‘You really want to know?’
‘Not really.’ She had to do this. It was all part of setting up the legacy. She’d realised a little late that she couldn’t sit back and expect life to leave her alone. She had to get ahead of it, make sure she was calling the shots otherwise some other bugger would do it for her. She wasn’t having anyone tell her what to do again. And that included the Emperor.
CHAPTER 82 – OWEN
Owen walked through the island’s silent main street, no doubt the result of the extended celebrations that had gone on long into the night. You’d think they had just ended the war, achieved total victory. They were a long way from that. But he supposed he couldn’t deny them this moment even if he couldn’t share in it. Most of those who had survived were still asleep in the barracks, except those few who had homes to go to. Of the officers he had left, only he, not Killen or Devlin, had been called to this meeting. It didn’t escape Owen that he was the General of an army that numbered less than one hundred. Hardly a great war-host.
He entered the square. A few hardy souls were still moving about here, up to their own business. This place had been full of life but a few hours ago. A memory of his solitary travels through Tissan came back to him. He shivered a little. Being alone was something he was no longer comfortable with. He’d gotten used to having a family, a community again. And how many of those had he lost? If he allowed himself to he could recite their names. Do that and he doubted he’d have the strength to keep standing. Lock it down, Owen. Now’s not the time.
The council hall was just ahead, but he did not tarry. The Emperor had relocated to the island just before they had left for the battle, installing his mother and entourage in a grand townhouse on the south side. As Owen headed that way, he wondered if anyone had been evicted to accommodate that move.
He reached the end of the island ten minutes later and wondered again why he hadn’t just saddled a horse. Because he was so damned used to flying! Owen smiled despite his gloomy mood. He arrived at a row of buildings that looked out across the water towards the islands. In the morning sun, the Brevis sparkled. Several boats were a little way off-shore. Now that was more like it. Life. But it wasn’t the Highlands.
The Emperor’s new home was less of a townhouse, more like a damned mansion! It had its own railing and surrounding walls, outhouses too. This place spoke of serious wealth.
He walked through the wrought iron gates, past two Nidhal guards, across a cobbled area and up to a door flanked by two more Nidhal. They eyed him with what he’d come to think of as casual mistrust. He knocked on the door and after a few seconds it swung inward. A woman bowed her head and ushered him in.
She led him across a hallway, angling left to a set of double doors. Within was a large, white-painted, wood-panelled room. It contained a heavy dining table. Gathered around it were several familiar faces. Llews, his beatific face gazing into some unknowable distance. Father Michael, his face radiating concern. Immayuk, of course. And then a number of the council, but not all. He could have sworn there had been more. And there was Cade. She was yawning, her mouth wide, eyes screwed shut. He found himself starting to do the same and had to stifle the urge. There was a seat next to Michael. He took it.
A few moments later, the Emperor arrived. He was dressed in a red linen robe and loose trousers. He looked happy, relaxed and contented and he escorted his mother, the Empress. She looked … odd. Like she wasn’t all there. They all started to rise.
‘Please, sit, my friends, sit,’ the Emperor insisted.
He installed his mother in the vacant seat next to his at the centre of the table, then settled down himself. He looked around the table and frowned.
‘Where is everyone, I thought the council had twice this number?’
‘They did, Your Grace,’ said Sent. ‘But, ah, sadly …’
‘Many fell, Your Grace. They marched to fight at your side but did not return,’ said Carlha, sorrow painting her features.
‘The finest of sacrifices!’ said Llews.
The Emperor nodded, his face grave.
Owen looked at Cade. Was that a smirk?
‘So many have given so much,’ the Emperor uttered. ‘And now we must ask more.’
What did that mean? Owen wasn’t sure there was anything left to give.
‘General?’
Owen blinked, confused for a moment. ‘Ah, yes, sorry, Your Grace.’
‘It is fine, you are tired. I can see that. But I must ask. What now for the elves? Are they still heading south?’
‘They are.’ Jenna and Harwen were now following at a discreet but obvious distance.
‘And what should we do about them?’
‘Do?’
‘Do we let them retreat unmolested?’
Owen made a point of thinking about it. He wanted to keep at the elves, but he had next to nothing left to throw at them. And with Nutaaq gone, he did not want to presume on the goodwill of their allies.
‘We could hound them on their journey south. I could send the Plainsfolk, supported by eagles. Killen’s scouts too. But they would have to be careful. The elves still have the numbers and probably some sorcerers left. It’s a pity we didn’t have some Watchers.’
Owen felt Michael stiffen next to him.
Father Llews made a tutting sound.
The Emperor was grim-faced.
‘The Gifted’s time is over, they are all but extinct.
Those who yet live we have entertained for long enough.’ The Emperor paused a moment, a strange expression clouding his face as he stared at Owen. For a moment he felt like he was being judged ‘You must use the resources you have.’
‘Very well, Your Grace. I will make arrangements. But if I may, we need more soldiers.’ He looked at Cade. She looked back, an eyebrow raised.
The Emperor waved a hand.
‘We will have them. The Nidhal will become our sword. When they return to these shores, Immayuk will greet them and will guide them in their divine mission.’
A divine mission? He was not sure they would see it that way.
‘As for our Tissan subjects,’ the Emperor continued, ‘theirs is an equally noble task.’ He turned to look at the councillors. ‘We must rebuild. Vyberg is still a ruin, an edifice to failure. But now is the moment to raise a monument to rebirth and resurgence. Our people are soon to return, and they will be set to the task of shaping our new city. But they will need help. The good, brave folk of Brevis will bend to the task of supporting and sustaining them. They will need food, supplies and ale!’ he said with a high laugh. ‘Your artisans can go north too. The rest, they can fish, cultivate, produce and keep the labouring citizens fed. And of course …’ He smiled. ‘We must breed. The great works we set ourselves to will take many years. More than a generation. Our sons and daughters will grow and play their part.’ He spoke lightly, his gaze lingering for a few moments on Carlha. She smiled back.
Was it just him or did that whole notion sound unappealing? Owen heard a slight grunt. Cade folded her arms and shifted in her seat. She looked at him, and her face was plain. She wasn’t buying it. Something they both agreed on, finally.
Sent raised a hand. ‘Your Grace?’
‘Yes?’
‘It goes without saying, all of us are grateful and eager to start anew. But perhaps it would be better to consolidate?’
The Emperor’s eyebrows drew close together.
‘It’s just that we are still establishing ourselves here. And making progress. Would it not be better to permit a time of growth and renewal? Your presence here would be most welcome, and we could find space for all the new arrivals I’m–’