Sovereign (31 page)

'And its leader?' Jenrosa prodded.

Lynan met her gaze. 'Terin of the Rain Clan.'

Jenrosa's expression was matched by the others'.

'He is too young!' Jenrosa declared.

'Truth, it is a great responsibility for Terin,' Gudon said.

'He has his own clan, and has led one of our banners with skill and courage. As well, he deserves a reward after his part in our victory over the mercenaries. If not for him and his clan, Rendle would never have entered the trap.'

'And who will take over his banner?'

Lynan shrugged. 'It will have to be a clan chief. Many have shown initiative since we moved from the High Sooq in spring. Korigan can choose one she thinks most deserves promotion.'

'Akota of the Moon Clan.'

Lynan looked at her in surprise. 'She sided with Eynon against you.'

Korigan nodded. 'Truth. But she has fought valiantly for your cause since Eynon's return. As well, it will show those that originally sided with Eynon that there is no longer any enmity between the clans of the Chetts.'

'She is old,' Jenrosa mumbled.

'She is experienced,' Korigan countered.

'Then it is settled,' Lynan said firmly. 'Now to the last issue: when do we resume the war?'

'As soon as Daavis is defended,' Korigan said quickly,

'As soon as my clan has finished its raid,' Ager said. 'We cannot invade blindly. Chandra is a much tougher nut than Hume: richer, more populous, better roads, closer to Kendra—'

'We struck at Hume like a grass wolf strikes at karak,' Gudon said. 'Without warning.'

'And we lost,' Ager pointed out. 'We did not know the size and composition of the enemy army.'

Lynan sighed heavily. 'Ager is right. We lost because having made the decision in my heart to strive for the throne of Grenda Lear, I was too eager to come to grips with the Kingdom's army. I wanted it over and done with.'

All eyes settled on him. None had genuinely felt Lynan was to blame for the loss, not even Jenrosa. Lynan saw what they were thinking.

'It was my decision, and that made it my responsibility. All we lost, including Kumul, we lost because I did not have the information I needed about the enemy to properly plan for the battle.'

'Even Kumul would not lay that on you,' Jenrosa said. Now all eyes turned to her. It was the gentlest thing any had heard her say for a long time.

'Thank you,' Lynan said.

'So you will wait for the Ocean Clan to finish their long raid before moving the whole army into Chandra?' Gudon asked.

Lynan nodded. 'We will wait.'

'Truth, little master, I understand your concerns,' Gudon said, 'but think of the advantage gained by striking quickly. You
are
the White Wolf.'

'There are other reasons to hold off,' Lynan told him, 'reasons I do not want to go into right now. But you must trust me on this.'

Gudon breathed out, looked perplexed, but nodded his agreement.

'Then we have finished,' Lynan told them. They all stood to leave. Lynan went to Jenrosa and placed a hand on her arm. 'Wait a while.' He waited for the others to go and waved her back into her seat.

'I put off making a decision about the lancers for as long as I could,' Lynan said.

'Thank you for telling me,' she said a little stiffly, and then, more easily: 'I knew it had to be done. I suppose I was afraid that replacing Kumul as the lancers' banner leader meant he was never coming back.'

'It wasn't just that which delayed me,' Lynan said, speaking slowly. 'I don't know if I should tell you this, I think you deserve to know. We have always been friends, but sometimes I cannot do the things for my friends that I would like to.'

Jenrosa looked at him with curiosity. She had no idea what he was talking about. 'What do you mean? What else delayed your decision?'

'Many of the lancers expressed to me or Ager their wish that you take Kumul's place as their banner leader.'

Jenrosa blinked. The idea seemed to her at once both absurd and desirable. She was no warrior, but to have carried on Kumul's work, and to do it in Kumul's name! 'Why didn't you tell me?' she asked.

'I'm telling you now.'

'But why didn't you consult with me on this?' Her voice became strident.

'The time when I had to consult with you or Ager or anyone else on how to lead this army is gone.'

'That's what hurt Kumul the most!' she blurted out. She gasped even as she finished saying the words and turned away from Lynan.

Tears stung Lynan's eyes. 'Yes, and knowing that hurt me as well. But understand, Jenrosa, my decision was made for everyone's good. You are a brave fighter, but you are no warrior, and I needed a warrior to lead the lancers. The lancers themselves—like both of us—wanted to keep Kumul any way they could, and having you as banner leader was a way for them to do that; but it would have been wrong. The last reason, the best reason, although you may not agree, is that you have a role to play in this army, a role no one else can fulfil. You are—'

'No!' she cried over him. 'Don't say it, don't say that word!'

Lynan looked at her with sadness and bewilderment. He hated to see her so distressed but did not completely understand where the distress came from. He recognised it stemmed from more than her grief over the death of Kumul, but that was all. If only he could ask her…

'Alright,' he said, and put a hand out to touch her, but she stood up suddenly and retreated from him.

'Are we finished?'

The tone in her voice told him they were, whether he wanted them to be or not. 'Yes.'

She nodded curtly and left.

Charion, crouching below the rocky outcrops that marked the lip of Elstra Gorge, gently slapped the shoulder of each of her new soldiers. They were a mixed bag but among the first to volunteer to fight for Hume and, even more importantly, were acquainted with the bow, even if it had been for hunting small game to supplement their diet as farmers or craft workers. She had sixty archers lined along the top of the gorge. Forty troops were armed with hand-to-hand weapons, spears mostly but a few with swords inherited from military service or from some ancestor who had done likewise, and were under the command of Galen and situated in a dry river gully that ran into the gorge near its southern end. She got to the end of the line and risked peeping over the outcrop to see Father Hern on the opposite side, responsible for half the archers. They gave each other a short wave, then both turned their attention to the column snaking its way through the gorge. Charion estimated there were about a hundred and fifty enemy soldiers, marching two abreast, divided into two sections with a large baggage train in between. They were all infantry, all armed with spear and sword and wore a mass-produced helm as their only protection. Even from where she was Charion could tell the enemy were as new to the military life as her own soldiers; they carried their weapons either too stiffly or without any care at all, and their helms did not always fit as well as they should. Furthermore, and most importantly, they had no scouts out front or on the flanks. They could not have given her an easier target.

The hard part was waiting for exactly the right moment to strike. She kept a keen eye on her own soldiers, ready to stop anyone from standing and shooting prematurely: with the enemy so close that was a real temptation.

She risked peeping one more time, to check she had accurately estimated their rate of march. Close enough, she decided, sank back down and started counting. When she reached two hundred she checked one more time. The last soldiers in the column were lined up with her position. It was time.

'Now!' she cried, leaping up. The enemy, every one, looked her way just in time to greet the thirty arrows that whistled down on them from her side. Most missed their targets, but three struck mortal or crippling blows, and another ten stuck in arms or legs. Right after this Father Hern called out; and dazed and confused, the enemy obligingly looked the other way just in time to receive another thirty arrows; these—having been better aimed—hit more targets.

The column collapsed into confusion as a second flight of arrows from both directions swept their line. Most fell in panic, some because they were hit. No one gave orders. Another flight of arrows. By now half the rear section of the column had been hit. Soldiers were rolling on the ground moaning and shouting in pain.

'Move along!' Charion ordered, and her thirty archers half ran fifty metres south and started shooting at the vanguard. Hern let his group fire two more times into the rear before marching them south as well. In just a few minutes the enemy bolted. They dropped their weapons and started running back the way they had come. Charion, waiting for just this moment, ordered her archers to concentrate their shooting against the animals drawing the carts and wagons in the baggage train, Many of the arrows hit their target, but only a few caused immediately fatal wounds, most of the animals rearing and twisting across the road, blocking it with their loads. The soldiers of the van scrambled over the animals and each other to get away. Charion now gave her final signal, two arrows fired at the mouth of the dry gully. A second later Galen and his forty warriors streamed out and slammed into the fleeing soldiers. They showed no mercy, unhesitatingly striking the enemy down from behind and flinging corpses aside to get at new targets. As the infantry hacked their way north, the two groups of archers ran to their original position to pour more arrows into the still disorganised rearguard. Some of the enemy at the very end of the column managed to escape the slaughter, but few others.

The battle was over quickly, and the gorge was filled with the smell of blood and death. Crows and even hawks were already circling above, waiting for the feast to start.

Charion joined Galen at the baggage train. He held up a handful of gold coins. 'Money!' he shouted at her. 'Haxan gold and silver. Enough to raise a small army!' He rushed to a couple of spilled boxes; straw littered the roadway, soaking up blood, and amid the straw were swords. Nearby wagons held many boxes the same size. 'And we have enough arms now to equip it!'

Charion nodded. 'We have to move,' she said levelly. 'It's possible the Chetts sent a troop to escort this column on the last stage of their journey.'

Galen grinned at her. 'If not, they will in the future.'

'And that will slow down Lynan even further.'

Galen patted her shoulder. 'You could at least offer a small smile. This is a wonderful victory! Look what you have done with only one hundred raw recruits!'

'Against equally raw, totally surprised and very tired recruits,' she said. 'But yes, the victory is important. It will help raise morale and improve enlistment.'

Galen became more serious. 'And ensure Lynan comes after us.'

Now Charion smiled, but there was no humour in it. 'With any luck.'

Ager had been given permission to ride with his clan as far as the border with Chandra. It would take three days to get there from Daavis, three days he intended to enjoy to the full. For the first few hours he set up a hard pace, eager to get the cobwebs out of his mind and those of his warriors. City living had its advantages, but it limited how you looked at the world and your place in it. Mounted on a horse, the wind in your hair, the smell of trees and earth in your nostrils, the sound of birdsong in your ear, the feel of raw sunlight on your skin, life broadened by the moment; so did Ager's grin as the city fell further and further behind.

Just before noon Ager became aware of a heavier, deeper sound in the ground, as if the surface he was riding on had changed, but then he sensed a change in his warriors, a ripple that moved up the column from the rear to the van. He looked over his shoulder and groaned, seeing with his one good eye the unmistakable figure of Lynan riding his way.

He's changed his mind and is going to ask me to com back to Daavis today
, he thought. Then he noticed two other details. Lynan's pennant—the gold circle in a dark red field—fluttered behind him, and the column of riders was noticeably thicker than it should be, four horses abreast instead of two.

'He's brought his Red Hands with him,' he said aloud.

Morfast looked at him. 'Lynan?'

Instead of answering, Ager put his hand up to stop the column and waited, trying to ignore the hundred questions that rose in his mind.

A minute later Lynan had caught up. He reined in, and sitting beside him was Gudon grinning like a genial idiot.

'Decided to join us in Chandra, your Majesty?' Morfast asked lightly.

Lynan smiled at her. 'I wish it were so.' He settled back in his saddle and breathed deeply. 'I wish to God it were so.'

'What's happened?' Ager asked, suddenly impatient.

'We lost a column,' Lynan said flatly.

'Where?'

'In a gorge about a day's travel north of here. Over a hundred reinforcements from Haxus were cut down, and all the supplies and money they escorted were taken.'

'When?'

'Three days ago. Some of the survivors came into Daavis just after you and your clan left.'

'And who?'

Lynan shrugged. 'None of the survivors could tell us. It was a well-laid ambush. Archers on either side of the gorge, a reserve of infantry hidden in a gully. They didn't stand a chance.' He looked up at the sky for a moment, then back down at his hands. 'Things were getting too simple, weren't they, old friend? I should have known something like this would happen. It's just that in all the histories I've read, taking the capital of a Kingdom ends all resistance.'

'This is a civil war,' Ager pointed out. 'We don't have any histories of civil wars, except legends from the earliest days.' He could see from Lynan's face that there was something more. 'Go on.'

'The only thing all the survivors agreed upon was that the ambush was set off by a dark-haired woman.'

'Charion. We knew she had escaped.'

'To Chandra we thought, and then to Kendra.'

'Out of the way,' Gudon added.

Lynan leaned across and patted Ager's shoulder. 'Well, at least you know now that I haven't come to drag you back to the city.'