Many Roads Home (32 page)

They had to act quickly. Gil confirmed, by dint of climbing a nearby hill, that the road beyond Teinemel was clear. Markov sent the civilians on horseback—including, to Yveni’s relief, Paole—to the rear of the foot soldiers, and gave their mounts to soldiers who fanned out through the countryside and went the long way around the town to take up position on the far side. He left a hundred foot soldiers to form a barrier to the Karvin troops they’d encountered near Nukin. Four hundred more followed the horsemen as discreetly and quickly as possible, with the hope of commandeering more horses from the farms in the area.

A wall surrounded the town, as they did many towns in the duchy. This gave Yveni’s force an advantage in that there were only so many entrances and exits, but it meant they were certainly being observed. Yveni and Markov, as well as the officers, had to act as if nothing was out of the ordinary, but since most of the troops would not be expected to pass through the town, they could wait at the town gate as if expecting to receive orders. This would prevent the Karvin troops escaping on the near side of the town, and any that tried to leave on the far side, would be ambushed.

Sofia and Juen fed them as much information as they could, as the image of the future became clearer. They both foreSaw Yveni leaving as a captive, but safely, in the company of around a hundred Karvin soldiers, and the townsfolk unharmed. They Saw a battle between the Sardelsans and the Karvi, but the outcome wasn’t clear at all. Neither of them foreSaw a fight in the town. Yveni’s orders were to ensure the safety of civilians at all times, but there could be casualties whatever he said.

They left it the full hour and then some before moving slowly down the road towards the town. The soldiers forming the ambush had less than four kilometres to travel and should be close to their position, even travelling covertly as they needed to.

Yveni sent a prayer to the gods and to his parents’ spirits to guide him as he approached the town wall. Yveni couldn’t tell from Markov’s intent expression what he was thinking, but the man was military to the core. Nothing ever distracted him, not even the thought of a new grandchild. Yveni hoped he’d live to see the baby. He hoped Paole and the others would be safe. He really hoped Paole would forgive him for what Yveni had to do.

There were far more sentries on the town walls than any respectable town in peacetime would maintain, though none of them were in uniform. As they passed through the town’s heavy wood and iron gate, the silence hit him like a blow. A town this size should have rung with the sounds of commerce, trades, people living and working. There was nothing.

Once those on horses passed through the gate, a commotion started up behind them, and suddenly uniformed men surrounded them with rifles at the ready. “Move forward, Your Grace.” The speaker seemed to be an officer, but it was hard to tell in these anonymous uniforms. Damn Konsatin and his mercenaries.

Yveni pretended he had no idea what was going on. “And who the hell are you? Why are you aiming weapons at me? Lower them immediately!”

“You’re under arrest, Vicont. Cooperate, or these people will die.” Behind him, soldiers appeared, holding pistols to the heads of twenty or so townsfolk, all women. “Dismount.”

“This is outrageous!”

“Dismount or start watching the women die, Vicont.”

“What about my men?”

“We only have orders to arrest you. They don’t make any trouble, and no one will be killed.”

Yveni turned to Markov. “You’re ordered not to make any attempt to rescue me, Commander.”

“But Your Grace…”

“No, that’s my final word. Those are my strict orders and anyone who disobeys is a traitor. The regent wants my company so badly, let him have me. May Sardelsa prosper!”

Markov bowed his head. That was probably overdoing it, but better that than the other way.

Yveni dismounted and soldiers immediately seized him and bound his arms behind him. “Do you have to be so rough?” he complained in a deliberately petulant tone. “I’m cooperating.” Let them think him an effete noble.

“Shut up, Your
Grace
. Move him.”

They dragged him, stumbling, along the street towards the town square. He saw other soldiers but not a single civilian. He hoped Sofia’s Sight was accurate and that the town wasn’t full of corpses. So far things had gone to her prediction, and he’d heard no shots or anguished cries. Provided Markov didn’t give the Karvi any reason to kill him, all they had to do was keep him at bay. Or so they thought.

They put him in the back of a filthy cart, an unnecessarily humiliating touch—there was only one likely source for that bit of malice—and drove him through the town. As he passed, more soldiers began to pour out of the houses around the square and the surrounding streets. Most remained behind him on foot. Only a dozen on horseback flanked the cart or rode ahead. They clearly didn’t expect an attack to come from the front. Yveni kept a smile off his face. He still had a fight ahead of him.

The road out of the town looked utterly peaceful, lined with trees through which the sun shone in speckled beauty. No sign of the hundreds of soldiers, he hoped and prayed, waited for them. The Karvin troops moved along at a fast march, clearly in a hurry to take Yveni to the castle. He suspected they’d pick up more horses or ditch the foot soldiers soon so they could make greater speed. He hoped his soldiers would—

The deafening crack of a rifle rent the air, and the lead rider fell silently sideways off his horse. The riderless horse bolted as, suddenly, gunshots came in all directions. Yveni threw himself flat against the boards and prayed no one decided a dead vicont might be worth something to the regent. The horse pulling the cart bucked and for a moment, Yveni feared he’d be trapped in a runaway vehicle, but the animal quickly stilled. A mind controller must have seen the danger, thank the gods.

The thunderous noise ceased almost as suddenly as it had begun. The silence that followed, he realised as sounds began to filter in, resulted from his own temporary deafness. He didn’t dare lift his head until he heard a voice with a Sardelsan accent say, “Let’s get you out of this, Your Grace,” and he looked up to see a smiling young soldier, holding his hand out to help him sit.

The soldier cut him free in moments. Around the cart lay carnage, dozens of dead soldiers sprawled on the road and beside it. The air reeked of gunpowder and blood. “How many of our men did we lose?” he asked.

“Not one, Your Grace.”

“Any left alive on their side?”

“Not sure yet. Will you step down?”

He accepted the help, and shook his hands and arms to start the blood flowing. “What about the rest of our people? And the town?”

A young officer came forward and saluted him. “My orders were to send a squad back to assist, Your Grace.”

“Then by all means, Lieutenant, please do.”

The soldiers ushered him off the road into cover a hundred metres or so away, gave him a camp chair to sit on and kept him under guard. It was coming up to sunset. His role, for the moment, was over, and the mopping up he had to leave to the professionals. He hoped they’d hurry.

Paole found it hard to remain passive as men waving rifles drove Markov and his soldiers back through the town gates. Yveni was a prisoner now, and Paole had to trust in a plan which he didn’t like and didn’t believe would work. Markov sat grimly on his horse as the wait went on. The silence made it worse, in a way. He’d have liked some clue that things were moving.

Was that gunfire? Markov tensed, and Sofia reached for Gil’s hand.

The distant cracks stopped, but still nothing happened. The silence stretched, and Markov did nothing, said nothing. Why was it taking so long?

More gunfire, much closer, and shouting on the other side of the town walls. “What’s going on?” Paole snapped at Markov.

“I don’t know. Please be quiet, Paole.”

Silence, and more waiting. As dusk fell, the town gate rose suddenly, and a soldier waved a Sardelsan flag from the sentry point. Another walked through the gate. “Long live Sardelsa,” he cried. “Long live Vicont Yveni!”

Soldiers cheered, Markov grinned and Gil threw his arms around Sofia’s neck. Paole hugged her too, since she’d undoubtedly saved Yveni’s life that day.

“What happens now?” he asked Gil.

“Ask Sofia, she’s the seer.”

“Well?”

“The Karvi surrender and we’ll go into the town,” she said, Juen nodding agreement.

Her prediction proved true. Markov’s men poured through the gate, while the rest of them waited. Twenty minutes later, the mayor came out and invited all the civilians to enter the town, while food and water was brought out for the remaining soldiers. Paole found Yveni waiting for them in the square, sitting in a chair on the stone dais, holding court and talking to the residents. Markov was nowhere to be seen, but Yveni was under guard. No one was taking any chances.

The mayor invited Gil, Sofia and Paole up to the dais where Yveni, arm around Paole’s waist and Sofia’s shoulders, introduced them to the crowd as his Uemirien saviours. They were roundly cheered, much to Paole’s surprise. The townspeople were in feverish mood, wanting to work off a lot of anger and relief. As the councillors escorted Yveni’s group to the mayor’s house for supper, beer barrels were wheeled out into the square, and music struck up. There’d be a party in the town that night.

“I’m starving,” Yveni confessed. “It’s just hit me.”

“Be grateful you can still feel the need,” Paole said, more gruffly than he intended.

Yveni took his hand and stared up into his face. “You have the hardest part, waiting.”

“Aye. Come and let them feed you.”

Paole tugged his young lover towards the dining room where the other guests were filing in, but they’d taken only a few steps when Yveni yanked his hand free. “There’s Markov,” he said, pointing to the doorway. “I need to speak to him and the mayor. Sorry.”

Paole let him go with a sigh, watching as Yveni took Markov aside for a whispered briefing, before speaking to the mayor. Then he and Markov disappeared, while the mayor made his excuses and asked everyone to begin their meal. Gil looked at the empty place at Paole’s side and took a chair next to it. “Left you again?”

“Heirs to the throne make very troublesome lovers, I think.”

Gil glanced at Sofia, who smirked. “But they make up for it in youthful energy.”

“The boy never stands still long enough for me to enjoy it.”

“I’d console you by saying things will be different once he’s back home, but his father probably worked himself into an early grave and so will his son, unless you stop him. We’re counting on you, Paole.”

Paole grunted. He’d have to catch Yveni first before he could slow him down.

He learned more about what had happened prior and during the occupation, how the mayor had returned to find his town under the control of the Karvin troops. The indignation about what the regent had attempted was universal, and the reporters had already sent stories back to Nukin on the drama. Would it have any effect on their success? Paole didn’t know. He wished Yveni would come back. He didn’t like him out of his sight longer than necessary. Not here with all those Karvin soldiers lurking.

When Yveni returned, he spoke to the mayor and came to his place beside Paole, giving him a smile. Paole did his best to look unconcerned by the length of Yveni’s absence.

Yveni tapped his glass to gain the guests’ attention.

“My friends, I thought it would save time if I told you what was happening all together. We have twenty Karvin soldiers in custody. A hundred and thirty were killed in battle. I’m glad to report we lost no Sardelsan soldiers, and the only civilian injury was an old man knocked into a wall by one of the Karvi. He’s been treated and will make a full recovery. Praise to the gods for their mercy.”

The guests piously murmured assent.

“The Karvi in our control have been questioned. There are five hundred of their fellows still in the country, but we’ve accounted for a hundred of them near Nukin. I’ve just spoken to the regent by telephone and informed him that Commander Markov and I are coming to the castle to charge him with conspiracy to murder, treason and insurrection, among other crimes. He, uh, hung up on me.”

Paole grinned as a titter of nervous laughter ran around the room.

“My friends, I must continue towards the castle and take the Margrave Konsatin into custody. He’s plotted to kill me, and today, threatened the lives of the good people of this town. He’s unfit to be regent, and in front of you I formally revoke my oath of allegiance to him. I ask you all to instead pledge loyalty to the duchy and its lawful head, whoever that turns out to be. I shall be asking the cabinet to appoint a new regent as soon as I can make contact with all of them. I’ve just spoken to Lord Timur and informed him of the situation. He’s pledged his support for me.”