The Daylight War (47 page)

Unable to strike at Abban directly, Hasik vented his frustrations on Abban’s women, coming often to his pavilion and home on some errand for the Deliverer, always making time to break some item of great value or rape whichever of Abban’s wives or daughters was nearest to hand.

In the Palace of Mirrors, his women had been safe from Hasik, and denied this pleasure the brutal warrior’s loathing had multiplied. His nostrils flared like a bull as the
khaffit
approached, and Abban wondered if he would be able to control himself.

‘Don’t just stand there, open the door,’ Abban snapped. ‘Or shall I tell the Deliverer you delayed my answering his summons?’

Hasik gaped and looked like he was going to choke on his own tongue. Abban watched in amusement as he sputtered, but he did at last open the portal.

Ahmann had made enough examples of those who would hinder Abban that even Hasik dare not do so. His eyes promised vengeance as Abban passed, but the
khaffit
only smiled in return.

There was a knot of
Damaji
and various hangers-on around Ahmann as Abban limped into the throne room, but Ahmann dismissed them with a wave. ‘Leave us.’

The men all shot glares at Abban, but none dared disobey. Ahmann led the way into a smaller side chamber. There was a great oval table of dark polished wood surrounded by twenty chairs, a throne at its head. Behind the throne was a great map covering an entire wall, and the table was laden with fresh food and drink.

‘She has left?’ Ahmann asked when they were alone.

Abban nodded. ‘Mistress Leesha has agreed to allow me to set up a trading post for the Hollow tribe. It will help facilitate their integration, and give us valuable contacts in the North.’

Ahmann nodded. ‘Well done.’

‘I will need men to guard the shipments, and the stores at the post,’ Abban said. ‘Before, I had servants for such heavy duty.
Khaffit
, perhaps, but fit men.’

‘Such men are all
kha’Sharum
now,’ Ahmann said.

Abban bowed. ‘You see my difficulty. No
dal’Sharum
will take orders from
khaffit
in any event, but if you would allow me to select a few
kha’Sharum
to serve me in this regard, it would be most satisfactory.’

Ahmann’s eyes narrowed. He was guileless, but no fool. ‘How many?’

Abban shrugged. ‘I could make do with a hundred. A pittance.’

‘No warrior, even a
kha’Sharum
, is a pittance, Abban,’ Ahmann said.

Abban bowed. ‘I will pay their family stipends from my own coffers, of course.’

Ahmann considered a moment longer, then shrugged. ‘Pick your hundred.’

Abban bowed as deeply as his crutch allowed. ‘I will need a drillmaster to continue their training.’

Ahmann shook his head. ‘That, my friend, I cannot spare.’

Abban smiled. ‘I was thinking perhaps Master Qeran.’ Qeran had been one of Abban and Ahmann’s own drillmasters when they were in
sharaj
. He was harsh, bigoted, and hated
khaffit
with a passion. He had also had his leg bitten so badly by a field demon that the
dama’ting
had been forced to amputate it. The drillmaster had healed, but his pride had not.

Ahmann looked at him in surprise. ‘Qeran? Who struck me for not dropping you to your death?’

Abban bowed. ‘The same. If the Deliverer himself decided to spare me, and has come to see my uses, perhaps the drillmaster will, too. He has been having a difficult time of late it seems. He still teaches in
sharaj
, but the
nie’Sharum
do not respect him as they once did.’

Ahmann grunted. ‘
Nie’Sharum
are ever fools until blooded, but there will be blood for all soon enough. If you wish Qeran to work for you, you may ask him, but I will not command it.’

Abban bowed again. ‘Will your promises to the mistress of the Hollow tribe alter your plans?’

Ahmann shook his head. ‘My promises affect nothing. It is still my duty to unite the people of the Northland for Sharak Ka. We will march on Lakton in the spring.’

Abban pursed his lips at that, but nodded.

‘You think it a mistake,’ Ahmann said. ‘You would have me wait.’

Abban bowed. ‘Not at all. I am told you have already begun recalling your forces.’

Ahmann nodded. ‘We have angered Alagai Ka by killing the demon princeling. The next Waning will bring the opening salvos of Sharak Ka. I can feel it in my heart. We must be ready.’

‘Of course,’ Abban agreed. ‘The
chin
are pacified and will offer little resistance even as you remove most of your warriors from their lands. Their women properly scarved, their sons taken for
Hannu
Pash,
and their men enslaved. It will be years, though, before the boys are old enough to test as
dal’Sharum
, and their fathers, the
chi’Sharum
, are not progressing well in their training, I hear.’

Ahmann raised a brow at him. ‘You hear much from the
Sharum
pavilions,
khaffit
.’

Abban only smiled. ‘My leg may be crippled, my friend, but my ears are sharp.’

‘The boys taken for
Hannu
Pash
have been separated from their families, and are young enough to forget the old ways,’ Ahmann said. ‘Many of them will be fine
dal’Sharum
, and a few of them valuable
dama
we can use to proselytize in the green lands. Their fathers, however, remember too much and learn too little. Most will never open their hearts to the honour we offer them by training them to fight in Sharak Ka.’

‘First you ask them to fight Sharak Sun against their greenland brothers,’ Abban noted. ‘That is a difficult thing for any man.’

‘The Daylight War has been foretold,’ Ahmann said. ‘It cannot be denied if we are to win against the
alagai
and rid the world of their taint forever.’

‘Prophecies are vague things, Ahmann, oft misunderstood until it is too late. All the stories in the Evejah tell us so.’ Abban held up his ledger, a heavy book with huge pages, all filled with neat, tiny lines of indecipherable code. ‘Profit margins speak clearer truth.’

‘So we will make of them a blunt instrument,’ Ahmann said. ‘Fodder for the slings and arrows of the enemy. They will be the shield of my army, even as the true
Sharum
are its spear.’

‘Your spears will have fine mounts, at least,’ Abban said. ‘We pride ourselves on our breeding in Krasia, but the herds of wild horses roaming the grasslands of Everam’s Bounty put them to shame. Mustang, the
chin
call them. Enormous, powerful beasts.’

Ahmann grunted. ‘They would have to be, to survive the night.’

‘The
dal’Sharum
have proven exceptional at hunting and breaking them,’ Abban said. ‘Your armies will be quick, and little will stand in the way of their charge.’

Ahmann nodded in satisfaction. ‘Spring cannot come soon enough. Every day we wait, our enemies have time to gather their forces.’

‘I agree,’ Abban said. ‘Which is why you should not wait. Attack Lakton on first snow.’

Ahmann looked at him in surprise, but Abban kept his face blank. It pleased him to so shock his friend.

‘Since when does Abban the coward ever suggest attack?’ Ahmann asked.

Abban held up his ledger. ‘When it is profitable.’

Ahmann looked at him a long time, then went and poured himself a goblet of nectar, sitting on his throne. He gestured at Abban to sit. ‘Very well. Tell me your prophecy of profit. How am I to know when the first snow will come? Are you now
dama’ting
, to see the future?’

Abban smiled and took a goblet of his own, sitting at the table and opening his ledger. ‘First snow is not an event, but a specific date in the Thesan calendar. Thirty days after autumn equinox. In Lakton, it is significant because it is when the harvest tithe from the hamlets is due to the Laktonian duke.’

‘And you want us to steal it,’ Ahmann surmised.

‘Spears are useless when carried by men with empty stomachs, Ahmann,’ Abban said. ‘Your army almost starved this past winter, especially after that fool
dama
set fire to the grain silos. We cannot afford another such blunder.’

‘Agreed,’ Ahmann said, ‘but now we control the largest swathe of farmland in the North. What need have we for more?’

‘We do,’ Abban agreed, ‘but so, too, has your army grown. There are now
chi’Sharum
in the thousands, and you have a growing nation to hold and feed. More than that, you must deprive Lakton of their winter stores. The city is built on a body of water so great, they say that from its centre one cannot see the shore in any direction.’

‘It seems impossible,’ Ahmann gestured to the great map on the wall, ‘but the greenlanders would appear to agree.’

‘No scorpion bolts or arrows will reach the city from the shore,’ Abban said. ‘If they can take their ships to the city full of provision, it may be a year or more before you can dislodge them.’

Ahmann steepled his fingers. ‘What do you propose?’

Abban rose heavily, leaning on his camel crutch as he limped over to the great map on the wall. Ahmann turned to regard the
khaffit
with interest.

‘Like Everam’s Bounty, Lakton has an eponymous city proper.’ He pointed with the tip of his crutch to the great lake and the city close to its western shore. ‘And dozens of hamlets throughout the duchy.’ He moved the head of his crutch in a circular motion around a much larger swathe of land. ‘These hamlets have land as fertile as Everam’s Bounty, with harvests nearly as prodigious, and they are all but unguarded.’

‘Then why not simply annex the hamlets and have done?’ Ahmann said.

Abban shook his head, waving his crutch over the area again. ‘The land is too vast to simply take. You do not have enough men, and would then need to harvest them yourself, if the inhabitants did not burn the fields the moment they saw your army on the horizon. Many would slip through your fingers, reaching the city in time for the dockmasters to pull stores and weigh anchor, locking the city tight.

‘Better to wait for first snow, and attack here.’ He pointed to a large village on the lake’s western shore. ‘Docktown. It is here the
chin
will bring their tithe, to be tallied by the dockmasters, loaded onto ships, and sent to the city on the lake. The dockmasters’ entire fleet will be docked or at anchor, waiting to fill their holds.

‘Docktown is weakly fortified, and will not be expecting an attack without warning so late in the season. But your army will be quick atop their mustang. An elite group could capture the entire harvest, the majority of Lakton’s docks, and half its fleet. Send your blunt instrument in behind to crush the hamlets once the surprise is done. Focus first on those along the lakeshore, denying safe harbour, and the Laktonians will be trapped on their island all winter without proper provision. Come spring, they may surrender without a fight, and if not, you will have ships of your own to fill with
Sharum
to take the city.’

Ahmann stared at the map a long time, frowning. ‘I will think on this.’

You
will
consult
Inevera’s dice, you mean
,
Abban thought, but he was wise enough to keep silent about it. It would be well enough to consult the
hora
before such a risky undertaking.

With Ahmann’s writ in hand, Abban limped into the training grounds, headed for the Kaji’sharaj.

He was spotted immediately by Jurim, who had trained with him when they were both boys. Jurim had laughed when Abban fell from the Maze wall – shattering his leg – and had himself been cast down by Drillmaster Qeran as punishment. But while Abban remained forever crippled, Jurim had recovered fully. And he had not forgotten.

The warrior was taking his ease with others by the Kaji pavilion, enjoying cups of couzi and playing Sharak. It was a game Abban had been surprised to learn the greenlanders played as well, though they called it Succour and had different rules. One
Sharum
clattered the dice in a cup and threw, roaring with victory to the scowls of the others.

‘What are you doing here among men,
khaffit
?’ Jurim cried. The other warriors looked up at that. Abban’s heart sank at the sight of two of them, Fahki and Shusten.

His own sons.

Jurim rose to his feet, showing no sign that his back had been whipped raw barely a week past. He had always been a quick healer, even before he began absorbing demon magic at night.

The warrior approached, looming. Abban was by no means short, but Jurim was taller still and blade-thin, while fat Abban was stooped by weight and forced to lean on his crutch.

Jurim did not dare touch Abban – even with Ahmann nowhere in sight – but like Hasik, he missed no opportunity to hurt and humiliate his former classmate. While Hasik took his hatred out on Abban’s women, Jurim and Shanjat cut as deeply through his sons. The older men were Spears of the Deliverer after all, the most famed – and deadly – of the Shar’Dama Ka’s warriors, seasoned by battle and kept young and strong by the magic they absorbed on a nightly basis. Fahki and Shusten worshipped them.