The Right Hand of God (40 page)

'This is a day of mourning, Leith. The soldiers hold memorials for their dead comrades even as we speak. We can't send them back into the snow to dig out dead bodies. We don't have the time.'

'But - shouldn't we bury our dead?'

'We are taking a day to remember them, my friend,' Axehaft said softly. 'If we take the time to bury them, we

may end up paying for the time taken by burying many more. All the generals are agreed. One day to mourn, then back on the road. Whichever road we choose.' He glanced around the pavilion, acknowledging the nods of agreement.

'And what road will we take? The north road, the south road, or the road back west?' The King of Straux, clearly unhappy at the deaths of many of his soldiers, placed a small but unmissable emphasis on the latter option.

'We've sent scouts along both western paths, with instructions to go as far as they can without endangering their own lives,' the Chief Clerk of Instruere informed them. 'They should return some time today.' His matter-of-fact voice seemed to render unreal the disaster that had befallen them.

'With their information we can choose which path to take,' Kurr said, masking his shock at what happened in Vulture's Craw, knowing they all had to keep their private misgivings about Leith's leadership to themselves, otherwise the boy would be stripped of what confidence remained.

'We cannot return along the southern road,' said Leith fiercely. 'We cannot! Can you imagine what it would be like? Soldiers stumbling over the bodies of their friends? We must take the northern road, or return to Instruere to await the wrath of Bhrudwo.'

'But Leith, the scouts have been sent—' A wave of the Arrow silenced the Haufuth. Would they gainsay him on every point?

'I will accept no other course! Call the scouts back! We must take the north road! I will be cursed before I ever take that hellish southern road again!' And, having vented his anger, he stormed out of the tent and into the cold but clear air of eastern Favony, leaving behind him a collection of sorrowful faces and worried minds.

The recovering army was spread out across the valley immediately east of the last bridge, the ill-favoured bridge Ruben-rammen had advised them against crossing only four days ago. If Leith ever found that man, he would arrange for him the most painful death imaginable.

Surely such a blunder in reading the weather could not have been accidental! The sorrowful sights all around him tempered his rage. In groups large and small his army stood, in prayer, in quiet conversation or in contemplative silence; whatever their race considered would best honour their newly-dead companions. For a brief moment he considered joining a ceremony, but thought better of it, reasoning that the appearance of his Arrow would draw attention away from the names and faces being remembered. Carefully he masked the Arrow's bright glow while he threaded his way across the valley, avoiding the many congregations gathered there. Finally Leith found himself at the lip of a small dell, sloping down to a lone tree: the army avoided this spot as though a prohibition rested upon it. A thin mist rested in the basin -

probably the reason why no one gathered here, Leith realised, as the cold air drained down to this low spot.

There was a solitary figure in the dell, close to the trunk of the bare-branched tree, not part of any congregation. Leith walked a few paces down into the basin before he realised who it was, then stopped himself going any further.

The figure was his brother Hal. So he had survived the southern road. Leith's anger flared again. What of your magic now, brother? What of your voice? Did you know about the calamity that hung over our heads, Hal, or did it take you by surprise? 1 trusted the King of Favony and his expert guide, just like you would have done, and look what happened. Ten thousand! I killed ten thousand men! He forced his jaws shut so as to stifle the scream that threatened to rip out his throat.

What was his brother doing? Reluctantly he drew a little closer. The cripple had a branch in his left hand, swishing it backwards and forwards as though it was a sword. He seemed to know what he was doing. Undoubtedly Achtal had been training him, but to what end?

Feeling like a spy in the stronghold of an enemy, Leith crept around the rim of the dell until he found a rock he could take cover behind. Back and forth the switch went, back and forth; forward and back Hal's crippled legs sent him, as though in a dance with an invisible partner.

Leith wanted so much to talk to Hal, to tell him all about the ache in his heart, to share his sorrow, but there had been too many angry words spoken, too many secrets kept, and so he stayed silent, though his throat thickened with the effort. He felt overwhelmed by a vast sadness. How long had Hal been down in this dell? How was it his brother was so alone?

Leith felt a fierce, protective anger sweep through him, not unlike how he felt the times his brother had been teased when they were both young. How dare they treat Hal as an outcast, just because his body was a little different?

Then the irony of what he was thinking hit him, and his shoulders hunched in misery. O Most High, what have I done? Leith looked on the mist-wreathed face of his brother from the protection of the rock, and as he watched, he saw that Hal wept bitter tears. Finally he could bear to look on his brother's face no longer, and he left the dell, staggering back to his tent as though drunk. It wasn't until he was lying on his pallet that he realised Hal must have known he was there. The Jugom Ark, unregarded in his hand, would undoubtedly have flamed at various times while he hid behind the rock. But he had said

nothing, had not betrayed his awareness of the Arrow or its bearer.

Oh, Hal, what have we done?

The blizzard moved off to the south, and the Army of Faltha was able to take the northern road through Vulture's Craw and on to Kaskyne, albeit much more slowly than they had hoped. Even on the more sheltered northern path the snow was banked up high, and Leith consoled himself wit;h the knowledge that neither road would have been passable at the height of the storm. But how many fewer would have died on this road?

Truly, the towering Gates of Aleinus and the extensive gorge of Vulture's Craw set behind them together constituted one of the most wondrous places in the world. In high summer a trip through the Craw ranked as one of the most delightful experiences to be had. Sudden waterfalls, rocky heights, sunless valleys, foaming rapids, small, friendly hamlets. No one made the journey in the winter, so no one spoke of the delicate hoar frosts, the tall, snowcloaked trees, the mist stirring on the frigid river flats, the sudden smoke of hidden villages.

The Falthan army did not have eyes for the scenery. Slowly at first, then more and more swiftly, they pounded towards Kaskyne, passing through Salentia and fording the wide River Donu just above its confluence with the Aleinus a mere eight days after setting their feet to the northern road. The generals could not keep the army to a measured pace: something took hold of their soldiers, some terrible urgency, and the army drove ahead as if men and wagons sought to make up the lost time by running the rest of the way.

Inevitably the pace told on the Falthan army. They trailed

into Kaskyne on the twenty-fourth day since leaving Aleinus Gates, having spent nineteen days on the northern path, the last seven stumbling and sliding over frozen roads. A day of rest in Kaskyne, a meeting with the Redana'ai regent to express their insincere sorrow at the news the king had recently died, some grudging assistance with provisions (but no soldiers) and a peremptory dismissal from the city. The King of Redana'a, exposed by Mahnum as a traitor to Faltha, would go unmourned by the Falthan army. Despite showing the regent that his kingdom was directly in the path of the Bhrudwan assault, the wizened old man mocked them and bade them depart.

It was not until they left their camp on the outskirts of the city that word came to Leith of an army staged a day's march south-west, near Prosopon, the second city of Redana'a. An army from the west, their informant told them, held at Prosopon by a regent opposed to allowing them through his territory. The regent of Redana'a obviously hoped to prevent the two forces from learning about each other.

'Ten thousand or more,' said the patriot, who wore a kerchief over his face for fear of being identified. 'Some from the lowlands, with a banner showing a yellow lion on a field of green; and some from the highlands, fierce warriors with spears and clubs and no banners. They are penned there by twice as many soldiers, the full force of the Redana'a army, and cannot move without the risk of bloodshed.'

'We will put an end to that!' snapped Leith, a delirious hope rising within his breast. Surely this was none other than the armies of Deruys and the Children of the Mist, come to join with them as promised. 'Alert the army. We'll drive the Redana'a force into the river!'

No one said anything for several seconds. It was as though everyone within earshot had the same thought. How to tell Leith his idea was ill-conceived without offending him? The moment was crucial.

Leith himself laughed, breaking the spell. 'Or perhaps we could go and speak with the regent, and explain to him that we know of his deceit. Would that be a better plan?' The sense of relief as the words were spoken was plainly written across two score faces.

The streets of Kaskyne were quiet as the Arrow-bearer led a force of five thousand men towards the royal palace. Now they knew about the army near Prosopon, they noticed the absence of young men in the Redana'a capital. More, they sensed a frisson of fear about them.

Shuttered windows, curtains drawn back just far enough for faces to glimpse the army marching past colourless markets, indicated that Kaskyne was a city under heavy-handed control.

'We haven't got time for this,' worried the Haufuth. 'We're still many days behind.'

Leith frowned. 'But we can't leave our allies penned by a traitor! If only there was a way of unseating this regent, we might consider our time well spent.'

The regent had been alerted somehow, and stood alone in the middle of the paved square in front of his palace, anger contorting his features. 'I bade you leave my city!' he cried. 'Why have you returned?'

'To confront a traitor to Faltha,' Leith barked. 'One who would detain the allies of Instruere without due cause. You hoped we would not find out about our friends, but you did not reckon on the courage of your own subjects. How long ago were you bought? Did you think to receive a reward from your master the Destroyer? Better by far to fear the one nearer you!' He took a step towards the elderly man, who by this time cowered on the ground as the Flaming Arrow blazed with wrath.

'So, intimidation works where diplomacy does not,' Leith snapped at him. 'You shall take me to the camp near Prosopon, or I will let the Arrow test you with its fire. I see you know the power of the flame, and I wonder if the Destroyer was your teacher. Get to your feet!'

The ruler of Redana'a, who had (foolishly, as it turned out) emptied his city of anyone who might have helped him stand up to the Arrow-bearer, took the road to Prosopon with his hands bound behind his back, sitting uncomfortably on the back of a drab grey horse. His lieutenants were dismayed to see him a prisoner of the Arrow-bearer, but they could count, and did nothing to rescue their regent when faced with the knowledge that a great army lurked within a day's march. Instead, the Redana'a force withdrew with almost unseemly haste, leaving Leith to greet the latest additions to his army - and the two friends he dearly wanted to meet.

'Wiusago! Tua! How under the sky did you manage to arrive here before us? We did not see you on the roadP

He climbed down off his horse, and first Wiusago, then Te Tuahangata embraced him, both careless of the burning Arrow in his hand: Leith noted this, and it pleased him. 'We've been here for a week, Leith,' Prince Wiusago said. Beside him Te Tuahangata grumbled, 'Cooling our heels, waiting for you to rescue us,' but he smiled at Leith, taking the sting from his words. 'The brave prince here thought it best we not tear our captor's army apart; and, as I always do, I took his advice.'

Leith laughed, for the first time in years, it seemed to him.

'Let me guess. You've spent a solid week arguing what ought to be done, and no doubt we've interrupted another important debate. Should we wait in Kaskyne until you have resolved your differences?'

'Ah, now. The mighty Arrow-bearer jests with us!' Wiusago turned to his friend. 'Why should we listen to him? Unless you are impolite enough to point out I wear a scar from a wound healed by that very Arrow. You're not going to mention it, are you?'

Leith smiled again, an easing of the heart in the company of two people who did not yet hate him, who had not yet suffered at his hands, who had regard for him irrespective of the Jugom Ark. He dreaded the news he had in store for them, and knew Wiusago would be grieved to hear of the loss of so many Deruvian soldiers and of Sjenda the chatelaine. Resolved as he was to tell them of the disaster of Vulture's Craw immediately, once in the company of his friends he could not speak of it.

'We were less than a day behind you when you left Vindicare on the barges,' said Prince Wiusago. 'We could not follow you upriver, as it would have taken many days to build more barges.'

And the Mist Children would not have travelled on them even if they sat in the river waiting for us!' Te Tuahangata added hotly. 'We will not float our way to war!'

Wiusago continued. 'So we struck out eastwards along the skirts of the Veridian Borders, hoping to join with you here. We heard the Taproot Hills were impossible to traverse in the winter, and Tua here took that as a personal challenge.' He laughed. 'To be fair, so did I. We have crossed the Valley of a Thousand Fires, and survived the Khersos, the Deep Desert of the Sanusi. What fears could a few hillocks hold?'

'I do believe you are being influenced by your bloodthirsty acquaintance,' Leith chided the Deruvian prince. 'But it appears he was right, or you would not be here.'

'He was right, but it was a near thing. We divided up our army and crossed the Taproot Hills by three separate passes, so we would not have warriors waiting for others to make way. It worked, except—'