The Modern World (34 page)

The Emperor said, ‘Does anybody have an alternative proposal?’

Silence around the room. Most eyes were downcast, including mine. ‘Very well,’ the Emperor continued. ‘We shall march to the dam. Frost, what do you need?’

‘Twenty draft horses – to be harnessed in two teams of ten – and and and sufficient troops to clear the way.’

‘Very well.’

Frost sat down again, muttering, ‘Two, eight, five hundred and twelve, one hundred and thirty-four million –’

‘Comet?’ said San. It was my turn to rise. ‘Yes, my lord?’

‘What new troops do we have? What manor is currently arriving?’

‘Fescue, my lord. Lord Governor Darnel Fescue came in last night with the musters of Fiorin and Melick, both Select and General. They’re mostly infantry and shield fyrd, with a few thousand archers. I’ve put some on escort duty. Marram muster is coming in now and the others will be arriving all through today.’

‘How many men?’

‘Twenty-two thousand. Behind them, probably after dusk, will come a division of felons under guard from Hacilith’s jails. I’m lodging them in Lowespass Fortress. We can discount some manors from our plans: Cathee takes six weeks to raise troops, and Brandoch’s infantry will be coming in last, if at all. When I visited, the governor was away touring his musters for the biannual assizes. I had to go around all
his reeves’ halls till I found him. But I’m expecting the remnants tomorrow.’

‘Is our provisioning adequate? Where is Cloud?’

Tre Cloud stood up, in the front row. He was an energetic, sinewy Grass Islander who never seemed to need any rest. He pulled his cloth cap from his crew-cut head and twisted it between his hands as he spoke. ‘The rationing will have to continue. I have requested grain throughout the Fourlands. All our depots in Lowespass are empty and the bastle farms have mostly been ransacked. I’ve ordered all the goods being unloaded to be sealed so their scent doesn’t attract Insects. The carts coming up from Rachiswater all have armed protection, and my agents are licensed so no one can defraud us or buy in our name.’

‘What about lodging?’

The Cook shoved the cap into a pocket in his striped apron. ‘We’re extending the encampment. The barracks in Whittorn is full. I sent men there until the reeve sent letters back saying he couldn’t accommodate any more. I’m glad it’s unseasonably cold because the towns are overcrowding. We can’t keep so many people together for much longer. Not to mention the lake, it’s a potential pool of infection.’

He continued, very self-assured. After all, he had won his Challenge by provisioning these forts – with the world’s best cassoulet which the troops much preferred to the previous Cook’s pork stew.

While he was speaking, a movement on the steps caught my eye. Cyan had crept down from the upper storey. She peered around the stone newel post, but Lightning was the only one to acknowledge her. He swung his arms unfolded happily and gave her a smile. She straightened up, glided towards me, and settled beside me on the bench.

‘We must determine the order of the advance,’ the Emperor said. ‘Tell me your suggestions.’

Tornado said, ‘Infantry. Lots of infantry with axes and so on. That’s our best bet.’

Wrenn said, ‘I agree, but swords are lighter to wield for a day’s march.’

‘A swift cavalry charge,’ said the new Master of Horse. ‘That way we’ll break through ’em.’

‘No, no,’ said Wrenn. ‘If I only had the pick of the resources, I’m sure my approach would be best.’

‘Well, you don’t have the pick of the resources.’

Lightning rolled his eyes: here they all bloody go again.

Lourie Hurricane, the Polearms Master, spoke. Lourie was usually so silent that on the few occasions he opens his mouth everybody
listens, knowing he will say something well thought out and worthwhile. ‘The advance should be led by a pike phalanx as best adapted to open ground. We have ten thousand trained pikemen from Rachiswater, Litanee and Eske. My Lord Emperor, they will provide maximum protection to the rest of the host following.’

San asked Tornado, ‘Do you agree with Hurricane’s suggestion?’

Tornado considered it. ‘Yes, my lord.’ I could barely see his eyes, shadowed as they were in a deep mass of wrinkles. The rest of his round face was smooth with no wrinkles whatsoever – perhaps they gathered to make a determined assault on his eyes. He reminded me of one of the massive columnar stalagmites in the caves below the town. The signs of constant physical endurance had worn into his face just as surely as water carves clefts in rock; I could imagine him formed of living flowstone. By a slow, cold process, in a cavern stifled by darkness, water that looks clear but is saturated with dissolved rock drips to the ground and precipitates, building a sullen soldier from the feet up. Trickles run down the outside of the column depositing a trail of wet stone, that over millennia grows lumpen and irregular to form his paunch and buttocks. The hollows in the sides of his elbows and knees are smooth solution pockets. Random drips of hard water give him a physiognomy and knuckles. Then with a great heave he tears one foot and the other free of the bedrock and walks off to fight Insects. Tornado could be crystallised loyalty. With a beer gut.

‘Lightning?’ said the Emperor.

Lightning had been smiling at Cyan and he jumped. ‘My lord?’

‘Do you agree with Hurricane’s proposition?’

‘Yes.’

‘What arrow-power can you supply?’

‘Well … We have forty thousand archers, ten thousand crossbow men. I will not use crossbows on the field because they cannot shoot indirectly. We will shoot blind over the pikemen’s ranks and eliminate Insects immediately in front of the advance. I’m sure the Polearms Master and Javelin Master will agree. However, we need Tornado’s infantry to flank us. We have long used this technique with sarissai, akontistai and hastai … I mean, pikemen, javelin men and heavy infantry.’

Cyan was frustrated. She leant to me and asked, under her breath, ‘What are the plans? What does he mean?’

I gave an irritated little gesture to quiet her.

‘I want to take part,’ she said. ‘I’ll lead my fyrd as a great governor should.’

‘Well, listen and you might learn something.’

‘Just what I’d expect from a glorified errand boy.’

Lightning said, ‘The Armourer informs me we are holding nearly a million arrows and we can secure the same again. That includes two-thirds unmade arrows, and the off-duty fyrd are making them up.’

Cyan rocked from buttock to buttock. Lightning gave her a ‘not now’ look, and continued, ‘The Lowespass, Carniss and Ghallain mounted archers will provide mobile support.’

Cyan cleared her throat and piped up, ‘’Scuse me?’

The Emperor looked straight at her. So did the rest of the Eszai.

Under San’s gaze, Cyan had no choice but to rise to her feet. ‘My lord … um … I would like to lead Peregrine’s archers.’

Lightning sent her a sharp look. The silence of curiosity quickly became one of embarrassment. Everyone glanced at each other impatiently.

I tugged her jumper, hissed, ‘Sit down!’

Lightning looked from Cyan to the Emperor and spoke calmly. ‘My lord Emperor, this is my daughter Cyan Peregrine. She will soon inherit the manor but I am afraid she is a little premature in her ambitions.’ To Cyan he said, ‘That is impossible for now, my dear. Please sit down.’

‘But –’

Lightning beamed around at everyone and spoke louder, for our benefit: ‘I’m sure that some of us will be happy to listen to you after the meeting … for a very reasonable fee.’

A ripple of nervous laughter discharged around the room. We darted quick smiles to and fro.

‘But –’

‘I will brook no more argument. You don’t understand; this is a very important conference.’

The Emperor waited patiently but Tornado said, ‘Get her out of here, Lightning.’

Cyan glowered at him. Lightning said, ‘She’s just trying to be noticed. Find yourself a sense of humour.’

‘This is not, like, a cabaret.’

Lightning said to the room, ‘See how ready she is to roll up her sleeves and lead the fyrd? Don’t you wish she was your daughter?’

We laughed more openly this time. Cyan did not take well to being discomfited in front of the Circle. ‘Peregrine manor seems no more than one of Micawater’s musters,’ she said. ‘If I mayn’t lead my men, I’d like to win their trust as a captain perhaps.’

The Emperor looked at Lightning, clearly requesting him to end the interruption. I was about to chip in, myself, but Lightning, with his hands on his hips and an amused expression, seemed well in charge.

‘No,’ he said. ‘You may not. You may watch our operations from the town walls.’

‘I’m joining in, so tough! You can’t stop me! When you’re engaged, I’ll ride out!’

He spoke to her only, with serene persuasion. ‘You are being unreasonable, blood of mine. Unless you sit down I must find you new accommodation. Say, the upper chamber of a peel tower?’

Cyan hesitated, trying to figure this out. ‘Are you threatening to lock me up? You can’t do that!’

He sighed, exasperated. ‘These men will escort you safely to your new apartment.’ He gave a nod to the Micawater fyrdsmen standing with spears either side of the door. They began to walk towards Cyan.

She glanced with round eyes from them to her father. ‘No! I only wanted to –’ A guard took her arm but she booted him in the ankle and snatched herself free.

She pointed at Lightning. ‘I Challenge you!’

An intake of breath around the room.

Lightning stood still, mouth downturned, transfixed. Emotions welled up one after another in his expression: profound hurt. Bafflement. Pride, too, and anger. The anger surfaced quickly and quenched all the rest. ‘Do you?’ he said, measuredly.

Cyan stuttered and recovered herself. ‘I, C-Cyan Peregrine, Challenge you, Saker Micawater, for the position of Lightning within the Castle’s Circle.’

I looked around at all the shocked faces. Even the Emperor had raised his eyebrows. Tornado turned his eyes up to the ceiling, his mouth in an amused twist.

San announced, ‘I uphold the Challenge. After the current campaign.’

‘Very well …’ Lightning managed a dry whisper to Cyan. ‘Now get out of my sight.’

‘But …’

‘But what? What do you mean, but? Haven’t you done enough? Do you
know
what you’ve just said? Now the words are out, you can’t take them back! I’ll have to shoot against you now!’ He took a step. ‘How could you
do this to me
? After all I’ve done for you. You repay me by … Throwing it back in my face! Not a thought of what I’ve given you. I saved you, on the ship. I reached out! I keep reaching out!’

He spread both hands and shook them towards her. His face and neck flushed so red they were blotched with white. He yelled in fury, ‘Think before you speak! How can you Challenge
me
? I
taught
you to
bloody shoot! Any man here has a better chance than you do. Any Select archer is stronger than you. What do you want? My attention? Now of all times? You always had my fond attention – now you have my Lord Emperor’s and Her Highness’s and all the
bloody
journalists’ attention as well!’

He took a breath, turned and punched the table. Punched it with the other hand, and leant his weight on it to breathe, leaning over the map, his head bowed and massive shoulders hunched like a lion’s. Cyan was too petrified even to cry.

He continued, more quietly, ‘Nothing I do is good enough. Is it? Nothing I can buy you. All those days I shirked target practice and spent with you. Look at yourself –’ contempt turned in his voice ‘– cashmere and my sister’s ruby pendant. You want for nothing, I made sure of that. You don’t know how privileged you are. I protect the farmers grafting in your fields. I look after the ships lying in your harbour. In return, you interrupt me! You try to get yourself killed and borne off to the Wall! Fractious, captious, ungrateful, delusional child! You’re just like your mother. She took advantage. She betrayed me, and now you do, too. Oh, you are no flesh and blood of mine!’ He collapsed into his chair. ‘ … Fyrdsmen, take her to tower ten.’

Their footsteps died away in silence.

‘We will resume,’ the Emperor stated. ‘Tornado, what is the current casualty rate?’

Nobody listened to the Strongman. We were watching Lightning. He sat, chin on chest, staring at the floor, numbly unaware of his surroundings. Minutes went by and he seemed to have retracted totally into himself.

His shoulders were so taut they drew horizontal creases across his waistcoat’s chest; under his shirt sleeves his forearms’ pleated muscles were like iron. His hands dangled on the rests covered by his greatcoat, but all of a sudden he relaxed and the breath went out of him. He stood up, and muttered, ‘I must have some fresh air.’

As if running on instinct he swept a deep bow to the Emperor and said glassily, ‘My lord, will you excuse me?’

The Emperor inclined his head.

Lightning folded his arms because his hands were shaking, and left the hall.

His few enemies in the Circle looked smug; a couple leant to each other and whispered – the Archer humiliated by his impudent, imprudent daughter. I glanced around the room – most of the Eszai seemed determined to pretend it never happened. They never let someone else’s misfortune affect them.