Fire And Ice (Book 1) (27 page)

             
Coran understood immediately and his eyes went wide.  “You want me to face all five of them?”

             
Miko grinned back.  “I am sure you can handle it.”

             
“Thanks, but I think you are overestimating my abilities.” 

             
“Maybe, but what choice do we have?”

             
Coran couldn’t argue with that and handed over his belongings.  “The
atiefa
?”              

“Keep it on.  You still need to hide the sword until you get close to them.”

              “The sash?”

             
Miko paused to think.  “Let them see it.  They will figure out I am from the West.  We cannot hide that, so let us see if your attire will help us.”

             
Coran understood the idea.  Their only chance to avoid a fight was if the Karands thought him more than they could handle.  He rose from the sand with Miko and followed the shorter man down towards the camp.  They were spotted by the Shiomi half way there.  The five rose and left the shade of the tent.  They were all robed the same in whitish cloth and wore scruffy beards.  They fingered the hilts or their curved blades as they watched Coran and Miko approach with keen eyes.  One of the five stepped to the forefront. 

             
“You are a She’al.”  It was not a question, but a statement of fact.  “We have been ordered to kill anyone we find from the West.”  The grin that appeared said he didn't need an order to do something he would greatly enjoy.

             
“We only want some water.  Not trouble,” Miko replied evenly.  The red sash had not gone unnoticed.  A couple of the Karands looked less sure, and one shifted his feet uncomfortably. 

             
The leader held firm.  “Throw down your weapons and you will live.”

             
“As slaves?” Miko replied fiercely.  “I will never be a slave to the likes of you.”

             
The leader smiled.  “So be it.”

             
Coran’s sword was out and striking before any others had cleared their sheaths.  The leader went down with a great gash running from his hip to his shoulder.  A second man barely deflected Coran’s first thrust, but not the second.  The others were on him by then.  He swung at their swords, knocking them aside, and danced backwards to gain some room.  If the Shiomi had worked together and surrounded him, they might have taken him, but one held back, obviously frightened of facing an Anagassi.  One of the Karands attacked, Coran blocked and punched the man in the face.  He spun to knock aside the slash aimed at the back of his head from the second of the Shiomi.  Coran brought his blade back and sliced through the man’s throat.  Another swing came from behind and he ducked.  He could feel the passage of the blade as it brushed the top of his hair.  Coran continued the move by going to one knee, turning, and thrusting upwards into the man’s middle.  The blade penetrated up under the ribcage, the man’s body jerked before he fell.  Coran pulled his sword out and looked around for the fifth man.  Miko was leaning over him, pulling his dagger out of the dead man’s back.

             
“He was trying to run away,” Miko said.  He wiped his dagger on the Shiomi’s robe.  “We do not want anyone to know we are here.”

             
Coran wiped his own blade before resheathing it.  “I guess I should dispose of the bodies.”

             
“Just take them off a ways into the desert.  They won’t be found for a while.”

             
Coran loaded the bodies on their horses, one dead Shiomi slung over each saddle.  As he worked, Miko went through their pockets.  He jingled some coins in one hand and glanced to Coran.  “They will not be needing it anymore,” he offered as excuse. 

             
Coran could not disagree, but the thought of robbing the dead still seemed wrong somehow.  Miko laughed at his expression.  “You are young yet.  You will understand someday.”

             
Coran led the horses a quarter mile into the desert and dumped the bodies.  He came back with the mounts and one of the Karandi blades and sword belt.  “At least we can ride now.”

             
Miko looked at the mounts and nodded, then at Coran.  “It seems I did not overestimate your abilities by much.”              

The details of the fight were hazy in his mind, but Coran could remember how close some of the blades had come to cutting him open.  “Maybe not.”  But the difference had almost killed him.

             
The land changed again, mercifully.  The oven hot days and freezing nights became less extreme as they reached more hills of dark, brown rock.  The further south they traveled the increase in the amount of vegetation.  Patches of scrub brush appeared first in the loose soil, then low bushes, and finally trees.  Some of them he thought he recognized like a tall oak and a few pines with a few spots where the needles had turned brown.  Others he was not sure about, like an evergreen with drooping branches and short needles.  He had to admit that he much preferred a landscape of trees, even strange ones, to what they had just traveled through. 

             
They stopped for water at the first real stream they came across.  The water was only two feet across as it flowed southward.  After a short break for the horses, they continued on.

             
Coran was forced to rethink his opinion of Karands as a whole.  He thought they were just zealots.  The central part of their lives seemed to be the division between She’al and Sha’elt.  Which one would dominate all of the Karands?  What he came to realize was that all the Karands wanted was a god that would provide what they needed.  That seemed to be a great many things.  Eastern or Western, the people were poor.  The majority of the people lived their lives in unhappy subjugation.  From what he learned from Miko, the wealthy Karands were very wealthy, and they were jealous of sharing that wealth.  That problem was more prevalent in the East.  Miko himself was proof that in the West there were opportunities to improve oneself.  He remembered Ruan and the people there and knew that it was not so in all the lands of the She’al followers.  They had been poor before the Sha’elt ever came there.                 

As he pondered the Karandi people, they rode into a small, run down town, looking around warily.  They had no more encounters since the water hole, but now they were entering a more populated area.  The people were shabbily dressed and as somber as the citizens of Crecy.  The few children about did not run and play, but stayed close to their elders.  Coran was careful not to think
‘parents’, since he did not know if the practice of men and women being taken away was happening here too.  He was sure many of the children were being cared for by whoever could.  He did notice that here, like in Crecy, there were few men of middle age to be seen.  Luckily, they saw no one armed and hoped it stayed that way. 

             
Coran had removed the sash and robe upon nearing the town.  They would not help them anymore, not in a town this far into enemy territory.  They would have avoided it if they could have, but they needed information.  They had no idea what part of Daes Shael to go to for the information he needed to find. 

             
Miko halted before a slightly more permanent appearing dwelling built out of stone.  Most of the town was made of wood.  The trader dismounted and Coran followed suit.  Miko told him to stay there with the horses, and disappeared inside.  As he waited, people passed by without acknowledging him in any way.

             
When Miko came out a couple of minutes later, it was in a hurry.  They mounted immediately.  He did not speak until they were out of sight of the town.  “My friend told me patrols come through here regularly, and today was a likely day for it.”

             
“Would they have bothered us, with you being a merchant?”  He had no idea what things were going to be like here.

             
“Most likely.  My friend told me that they are allowing trade to continue, but we are not carrying anything to trade with.”              

“So if we had something to trade, our disguises might still work even though you are from the
West?”

             
“Probably.  When you are talking about traders, borders do not really mean anything except when it comes to taxes.  You see there are Karandi traders who operate as far as Summerhall, or Ostis, and Midians who set up shops in Arencia, or Ithan.  They would look more closely at me though.” 

             
It did make a sort of sense.  They needed some forms of trade to continue, so they couldn’t just go around rounding up honest merchants who were actually helping their cause by bringing needed goods.  That raised the question of why they closed all the ports.  There had to be a reason for it.  Something they were trying to hide.  “Did you find out what we needed?”  Coran asked.

             
Miko nodded.  “The Karands are gathering at Sha’Tor in the north.”

             
“To invade through the passes,” Coran surmised.

             
“Yes.  Most of the Karands are being gathered there.  The invaders from across the sea are there as well.  The Etrani Karands are at Lornth with some more of the invaders.  Lornth is a port in the south, on the Sea of Karand.  He said that there was a fleet being built in the harbor there.”

             
A fleet to the south when Summerhall would be looking to the passes in the east.  “What else?”

             
“New ships are still bringing in troops from across the sea.  They are landing at T’loth, and joining the forces at Sha’Tor.  Apparently the leader of the Easterners is one named Elthzidor.  He is rumored to be at Lornth right now, but it changes, so no one can be sure of his location.”              

Coran was not surprised.  “What of the Karands themselves?  How do they feel about it?”

              “Most are not happy about it.  They do not like invaders of any kind, and this Elthzidor is certainly an invader.”

             
“What about the war against the Midians?  Did you get an opinion on that?”

             
“Some are blinded with the thought of victory, and will follow like sheep.  Many understand that if the West falls then it will be worse for everyone.  No one will be able to stop the invaders then.  My friend has said that the following of She’al is growing here.”

             
“Do you believe him?”

             
“In part.  I believe many consider that She’al would be better.  They know that Sha’elt has done nothing but bring suffering to the common people.  I also know that victory decides many men’s minds.  If Sha’elt seems stronger then they will follow him.”  He paused for a moment.  “Do we go home now?  You know where the enemy is gathering its forces.”

             
Coran thought about it.  A fleet in the south had to mean something significant.  His journey here would be meaningless if he didn’t find out what.  He also needed more information on the numbers of the enemy involved.  Of course it meant traversing even more dangerous territory, going to more heavily populated lands.  He might even have to enter a city reportedly filled with a hostile army. 
I knew it wasn’t going to be easy,
he thought, knowing his duty was clear.  “I am going to Lornth.”

Chapter 17

Returned In Honor

             
Katelyn sat on the black horse she had won from Robert, as she rode slowly in front of the last row of Knights.  She named her horse Arya, which meant ‘Rose’ in old Ithanian.  Not exactly a name for inspiration, but she thought it fit for such a beautiful creature.  That it also happened to be the name of Soros’ wife was just a coincidence.  She wore dark trousers suitable for riding and her sword was on her hip.  Her dark hair was tied back and held in place by her blue scarf.  With all the inspections and the riding, she found herself wearing the masculine clothing more often.  She still received some inquisitive looks when she walked the halls of the palace, and more riding through the streets.  The Knights she inspected didn’t comment, or give any sign that they noticed anything out of the ordinary.  Their discipline was legendary.

             
The most surprising reaction of all had come from her father.  Since he had always been reluctant to allow her lessons and adamantly refused to let her own a sword, she was sure he would disapprove, but he had not said a word when he first saw her strutting through the corridors armed.  His eyes had risen in surprise and his mouth had opened as if to speak, then he had stopped and his visage turned thoughtful.  After a moment he even started to grin before turning away without saying a word.  She was unsure what to make of his silent approval.

             
Commander Martin rode beside her as she inspected the company of the Knights of Soros.  They sat mounted and unmoving as she looked for spots of rust on armor, signs of unkempt clothing, or anything considered improper for their standards.  She did not smile when looking them over.  Her father told her never to smile until you had completed the inspection.  If you smiled while still inspecting them they didn’t think you were taking it seriously.  If they thought you were not taking it seriously than they think you don’t care.  If they think you don’t care than they don’t care.  She didn’t frown either.  Frowns were reserved for showing disapproval at something she saw.  A frown at one of these men would send him off running to go over his equipment a hundred times in shame. So far she hadn’t frowned once.  These men were impeccable.  Their clothes were immaculate and their armor shined brightly in the sun.

             
The inspections were her father’s idea, to get her more involved.  She was also present for all the afternoon meetings in the council room, where both Margery and their mother joined them.  Her father wanted them to know what was going on as it happened.  She understood his reasons for it.  In war people died.  Kings died sometimes too.  He wanted to be sure that a Sundarrion would be ready to take over if another fell.  Dark thoughts to be having on such a sunny day.

             
On reaching the end of the line she turned to Martin and smiled in approval.  Martin nodded and raised his voice, “Dismissed!”  The orderly lines broke up as the men returned to the camp behind them.  Martin never told the men ‘good job’ after an inspection.  He said he went over it with them later. 

             
Martin did not give his usual salute with his fist and depart.  “May I escort you back to the palace, your Highness?”

             
“Of course,” she turned her horse towards the wooden gates that were part of the walls that enclosed the Knight’s compound.  There were barracks for some of the single Knights and houses for married ones.  Men who earned their Knighthood could decide to try and become Soroson Knights, otherwise called the Knights of Soros.  If they were good enough to be accepted, then they must forswear all other oaths, and give their complete loyalty to the occupant of the Sun Throne.  After that, most come and live here, in the Knight’s compound.  If they come from noble birth, they must give up any other claims, which is why many of the Knights were second, third, or fourth sons.                

             
As Katelyn and Martin led the way, two of the blue-garbed, palace guards who had escorted her here, fell in behind them.  The complex was located on the east bank of the river, so they had to cross one of the stone bridges to get to the island city.

             
Martin waited until they had crossed to speak.  “I know inspections can be tedious, your Highness, but the men appreciate them.  The training can seem endless at times and they need to feel a sense of purpose.”

             
“I am glad to help out Commander,” she replied, wondering where the conversation was going, or if he was just speaking to be polite.  They had to go around a slow moving cart carrying produce to the city market.  It was summer and trade was flourishing.  At least with those who dealt locally across Midia.  The traders in Eastern goods were scrambling to stay in business by searching for new sources of the items they dealt in, or by finding new products to sell. 

             
The streets they rode through were still a riot of color as people from across Midia came to buy and sell, even in these hard times.  She did notice that the number of people seemed to be fewer than previous years. 

             
“I think that your...attire is inspiring to the men as well,” Martin said without looking at her.  He kept his face forward.

             
She tried to puzzle out what he meant by that.  No one had ever called it inspiring before, interesting yes, but not inspiring.  She decided to come right out and ask.  “What do you mean by that?”

             
“Only, that men who fight for their profession, like to see those who lead them prepared to fight as well.”

             
She laughed lightly.  “I don’t think I will be leading anyone into battle,” she said, seeing the palace gates ahead.                 “Who can say,” he stated, then cleared his throat.  “There is something I wish to ask you.  If I may?”

             
She nodded permission as they passed through the gates and two grooms came to take their horses from them.  She dismounted and patted Arya’s neck before the animal was led away.  Martin waited for the two guards to follow the grooms in the direction of the stables.

             
“I have heard some of the men talking since you started giving the inspections.  Not to me, but I hear things,” he said carefully.  “I was wondering.  You carry that.”  He pointed to the sword at her hip.  “I wanted to ask...well...”  He left it hanging.

             
She realized what he was trying to say while not wishing to give offense.  The men wanted to know if she could really use the sword, or if she was just playing at it.  Martin wanted to know too.  She knew the question was not a trivial one.  Soldiers did not ask questions like that lightly.  “Are you busy right now?”

             
He looked confused at the question.  “I have some time, yes.”

             
“Good.  Why don’t you come to the practice yard with me.  It has been a while, and I should really keep in practice.”

             
Martin swallowed, probably at the thought of sparring with the princess.  There was no way he could refuse, though; not after saying he had the time.  “Yes, Your Highness.” 

              Katelyn stepped into her chambers feeling hungry after the exercise.  She also needed to wash off the sweat and dust from the yard.  A platter containing food was already sitting on the round table between the furniture.  Grapes, cheese and sliced apples were arranged on the platter.                 “Where have you been?” Margery asked from where she sat on the couch by the window. 

             
“Martin was curious about my martial abilities.”  Katelyn smiled at the memory.  Martin was very good, better than her, but the surprised look on his face was quite satisfying.  He held back at first, and soon realized the mistake.  After that, she still made him work hard to keep her from hitting him. 

             
“I hope you satisfied his curiosity,” Margery smiled at her sister.  “I had hoped we could have something to eat together.”

             
Katelyn popped a grape into her mouth, the juice burst in her mouth when she bit down.  She took off the sword belt and set it on one of the chairs before taking the other.  She crossed her legs and waited for her sister to ask her what she came to ask. 

             
“Why the change in clothing?  I am just wondering,” she added the last part hurriedly.

             
“You mean Mother is wondering.  Always have to be the young lady,” she said in imitation of her mother.  “If you have to know, father has me inspecting the Knights, and I am not riding out there in a dress.”

             
“And the idea of taking a carriage or being in front of all those men wearing skirts doesn’t have anything to do with it?” Margery guessed wryly.  She took a slice of apple and munched on it.               

             
“Why do we have to wear them anyway?  I know, it is proper.  It is expected and some people will not take you seriously otherwise.  But why really?  Because if you want a husband you have to be the good little wife.  Well, Coran does not care how I dress.”

             
Margery shook her head.  “You will never be ‘just a wife’ and you know it.  You know why Mother cares so much about those things and you know why she is right.  Father may have indulged you in the past, but it is only because he expects so much of you in the future.”              

             
Katelyn knew very well, maybe better than her sister did.  She didn’t know why she had said those things.  Well not those things exactly.  “I am sorry.  I think....I don’t know.”

             
“I do.  You fear you will not live up to your duties.  You are not sure you want the responsibility.  You shouldn’t worry you know.  I cannot think of anyone better suited.”

             
Katelyn went over to her sister and gave her a brief, heartfelt hug.  “Thank you.  Now let me eat.”

              Stemis sat at the head of the table as she entered the council room with her sister, Margery.  He was looking down at the letter he read.  The Queen was there, as well as, Gelarus, Oran, and Martin. 

             
Over lunch the two sisters had discussed things other than what she chose to wear.  Rob would be coming soon to formalize his betrothal to Margery.  Despite her sister’s calm exterior, Katelyn knew she was nervous.  In return, Margery asked her when she was getting married.  That was something that for some reason had not come to mind until then.  It was something she would have to discuss with Coran, whenever he got back.  She hoped it was something he still wanted to discuss. Why she should have doubts, she wasn’t sure, except that after wanting something for so long it still seemed a little hard for her to think of it as a reality.

              Stemis cleared his throat.  “This is from Edric of Leanesse.  The Northmen are taking advantage of the opportunities presented in the East.  Their ships are patrolling the Karandi shoreline.”

             
“In other words they think there will be fighting and they don’t want to miss it,” Oran scoffed.  “They are probably raiding towns and sinking anything that floats.”              

“Basically,” Stemis agreed.  “He reports strange ships coming from across the sea.  Also there are two areas they have not been able to enter.  The Bay of Torinth on the north coast, and the harbor at Lornth, on the Bay of Karand in the south.”

              “What do you mean they cannot enter?” Anne asked.

             
“They say that the sea prevents them.”

             
“Wizardry,” Oran declared.

             
“Yes,” Stemis agreed.  “He says his ships will try and see what they are hiding, but he is not too hopeful.  He even says they might keep us informed.”

             
That was something.  The relationship between the North and the West was complicated.  The friendship of Soros and Eryk had made a lasting impression.  To a point.  As far as anyone knew, it was the only reason the North had not descended upon the south in force.  If the Northman did that it would not be out of animosity, but for no other reason than that the south was there.  Northmen loved to fight. 

             
How the information helped them, they didn’t know.  Oran thought that Torinth had to be where the ships the Northmen spotted were being disembarked.  Why Lornth though?  No one could offer a reasonable explanation.  That it could be a diversion was the most plausible idea tossed about between them.  After that there wasn’t too much to discuss.  They were about to adjourn when the door opened and a guard stepped in.  He had one hand on the sword at his hip.

             
“Your Majesty, there is someone here to see Lord Oran.”

             
“Who is it?” Stemis asked.

             
“A young Karand.”  The guard glanced at Oran.  “He says his name is Oran, the son of Miko.”              

Katelyn froze.  Why would someone be here from Miko?  Was something wrong?  She forced herself to be calm.