The Swans' War 3 - The Shadow Roads (30 page)

The army camped in a broad coomb through which ran a clear stream. The ridges to the north and south were steeply wooded and alive with swift streams that burbled and whispered to each other day and night. Samul gazed down at the army below and felt a shiver course through him. It was larger than he imagined. Three or four times greater than any force the Renne could muster.

"Now I understand why my cousins were so desperate," he whispered. "Look at Menwyn's army!""It is Hafydd's army," Pwyll answered softly, "as Lord Menwyn will learn to his dismay.""It was the army of the Prince of Innes," Prince Michael said, "and will be again.""Whoever it is loyal to, this is an army preparing to go into bat-tle," Lord Samul offered. "They're forming ranks and getting ready to move. Either they are about to cross the Wynnd or they think the Renne are approaching. They'll slaughter Fondor's army if he is foolish enough to cross the river.""He's not so foolish," Carl said, glancing at Samul, but he said no more.

Prince Michael turned to the others where they crouched, star-ing out from behind a fallen oak. "What I must do next I must do alone. Against these tens of thousands, even Pwyll's blade will be of no avail." He turned to Carl. "You have fulfilled your part of the bargain—you and Jamm. You brought me here. Though we could not have done it without you, Pwyll. You have all done your parts. Now I must do mine."He went back through the wood and found their horses. From the saddlebag of one he took a banner of the House of Innes and fixed it to a pole cut from the forest. Nodding once to each of them, he mounted his horse, and, swinging the banner high, set off down the hill.

His feet pushing hard against the stirrups, Prince Michael felt the shoulders of his horse working as it went slowly down the path. Emerging from the trees, he angled across the meadow directly for an opening in the ring of stakes. A dozen men-at-arms stood guard there. They saw him coming from a distance, but thought nothing of it, for riders came and went regularly there.

The Prince wasn't sure how he would handle this moment. He doubted that Menwyn Wills had left orders for how to deal with a sudden appearance of the Prince of Innes, but one could never be sure. If the guards recognized him, he would simply ride through, hoping surprise would grant him that moment's reprieve. If they didn't recognize him, he would have to improvise. He couldn't let himself be taken quietly to Menwyn Wills—that would be the end of him.

The Prince felt an odd sense of floating as he rode toward the unsuspecting guards. As though he watched the entire proceedings from somewhere else—from up on the ridge with his fugitive com-panions. The sound of his horse seemed to come to him from afar—the creak of his saddle, the banner fluttering in the wind. The pale, silent faces of the guards seemed to loom up before him, star-ing, as though they had seen a ghost.

"I am Prince Michael of Innes," he said to them from afar, "re-main as you are.""Your grace…" one of the men whispered, his face white with surprise.

"You cannot pass," another guard said, stepping forward and reaching for his sword. "We have orders—"But a third guard restrained him with a firm hand on his arm. "It is the Prince, you idiot. He does not need papers."The guards bowed their heads quickly as he passed, but one went running ahead. "The Prince!" he called. "Prince Michael has returned."The men had been formed into ranks, but then allowed to sit and talk quietly among themselves while they awaited orders to march. Down the long lane that divided the camp, the Prince rode, lines of infantry to either side. He wore the stolen livery of the sol-diers of Innes, and over his head fluttered the banner of his House. The calling of the guard who ran before drew the men's gaze, and many who knew him rose to their feet. A murmur swept down the ranks, like a wave, and the men began to rise to have a better view. To either side a sea of disbelieving faces. And then he saw a man he knew who had once been a house guard.

"Rica," he said, and nodded.

"Your grace…" the man said, his eyes suddenly gleaming. "We were told you were dead.""Too many lies have been told in my absence. Find twenty men you trust and fall in behind me.""But, your grace," the man said, "we have been ordered into ranks___""And now you have been ordered out. Do you take orders from the Prince of Innes or Menwyn Wills?"The man drew himself up. "I take orders from the Prince of Innes," he said, and began calling out names.

Another two hundred feet the Prince rode, his newly formed guard falling in behind him. There, almost in the encampment's center, he stopped. The army of Innes was in such a state that the men almost broke ranks to see if the rumor were true. Michael stopped a moment, turning his mount in a slow circle, letting the men get a good look at him. Down the lane he could see officers and men of high rank striding quickly out to see what this fuss could be. Michael knew he had only a moment. He stood up in his stirrups.

"I am Prince Michael of Innes," he declared loudly, "and I have returned to you by a difficult road. I know it was said that I had died, but you were also told that my father was assassinated by his own guard—which we all know was a lie. He was murdered by men who claimed to be his allies. The same men who thought I had been killed… but I escaped and came back to you."A hush had fallen over the army, though far off the rumor still traveled, like distant surf. The officers and noblemen were all but running by then. One of them was shouting, but the sudden roar of the army drowned him out. The men broke ranks, pouring over the field toward the Prince. Rica and his twenty guards formed a circle around him, trying to hold the men back a few feet at least. Michael could see all the faces gazing up at him in wonder, re-turned from the dead, as it must have seemed—and was in ways these men would never know.

Men he knew began to shout their names to him, and he waved these closer, saying, "Let them through."The noblemen, once allies of his fathers, and officers, were hopelessly cut off. Michael could see the group of them hemmed in and being tossed about like a boat on a storm. The Prince knew that if he pointed at them and denounced them now, they would be in great danger, but he hoped there were some among them who were still loyal to his House, and he didn't want to risk their lives. He would need them yet.

Now was the moment to confront Menwyn Wills and his cabal … if he could move this mass of men, for he had earlier picked out the banners of Menwyn Wills flying at the far end of the encampment. He began pointing with his banner and moving his horse that way. The men around him quickly understood and started calling out. "To Lord Menwyn! We go to address Lord Menwyn Wills!"Progress was almost imperceptible, but inch by inch Michael made his way down the length of the camp, the center of a roiling mass of men, all of whom wanted to get a look at him, and who called out his name over and over. Many reached out and he touched their hands as though to prove that he was not a ghost.

The strangeness of it all was not lost on Michael, who had never been so loved when his father was alive. But now these men saw him as their rescuer—freeing them from the dominion of Menwyn Wills, and maybe the sorcerer Hafydd as well. He was suddenly the good prince who had come to save them from circumstances they did not understand, come to lead them to victory and to be sure they got their share of the rewards, which was in question under the Wills, who would no doubt look to their own first. Perhaps most of all, he had come to take control of the largest part of the army, making them again preeminent, and not at the beck and call of Menwyn Wills.

Several large pavilions had been erected near the eastern end of the encampment, Menwyn keeping his allies close and separated from their own armies so that a situation like the one he was about to face could not occur. Men-at-arms in evening blue had quickly formed up before the tents, though they were vastly outnumbered. The men of Innes divided the men of Menwyn Wills into two par-ties, forcing a column through their middle to the tents beyond. It took some time for Michael to make his way through, and when he did the men who jostled there fell silent. Perhaps three thousand men in dark blue were ranged before the tents. Not nearly as large a force as the men of Innes, but Michael wasn't sure how many would fight for him if it came to that, and he was vulnerable there, with so many of Menwyn's guards nearby, some armed with bows. Of course Menwyn could not be sure of the situation either, which Michael was counting on.

An officer emerged from the largest tent—a tent Michael was sure had belonged to his father—and bowed to him. "Prince Michael," the man said, acknowledging Michael's claim—not that he had much choice. "You have no doubt traveled far. Lord Men-wyn invites you to dismount and join him." The man gestured to-ward the tent, smiling tightly, trying to hide his distress at this turn of events.

"I will speak with Lord Menwyn here," Michael said. "After what befell my father I don't wish to go anywhere without my guards, who are too numerous to fit inside Lord Menwyn's pavil-ion." It was a terrible insult, but Michael heard a growl of approval from his men.

The officer tried to smile. "We are, my Prince, at war. Much that should be said is of a sensitive nature.""I trust any man wearing purple and black with my life," Michael said. He was pretty sure that if he stormed the tents at that moment he would be killed by an arrow, but he was equally sure that Menwyn Wills would die as well. "Please ask Lord Menwyn to do me the honor of attending me here." He had chosen his words with care. The Prince would be honored by Menwyn's presence, but Menwyn would be attending him. He was the Prince of Innes, not some out of pocket noble with two hundred swords at his command.

The officer stood a moment, uncertain, and then retreated in-side. Nothing happened for a moment, and a grumbling began among the men in purple and black. The situation could quickly spin out of control—Michael could feel it.

The doors to the pavilion were drawn back, and Menwyn Wills strode out, a dozen minor noblemen at his back—former allies of the House of Innes, for the most part. Many of Michael's father's officers were there as well. Menwyn was making a statement.

"Prince Michael!" Menwyn said, smiling broadly. "I cannot tell you the joy we feel to see you returned! We thought that black-guard, Sir Eremon, had left you dead.""And so he no doubt thought," Prince Michael answered, "but he was wrong.""It grieves me to tell you, Prince Michael, that your father, the Prince of Innes, was not so fortunate. Hafydd had him murdered." Menwyn paused a moment, his gaze going respectfully down. "But with the assistance of these noble men"—he gestured to those around him—"we drove off the last remnant of Hafydd's force and wrested control of the army from them.""And for this I thank you," Prince Michael said. "I have re-turned, it seems, just in time to resume command.""For which we are thankful. We will, my Prince, go to war this very day. I fear that you will not be able to take up your rightful place immediately, for the plans are all laid and the command of each company has been assigned and each officer knows his part. But you should ride with me and our chief allies, for this day we will destroy the armies of the Renne and prepare the way for our victory.""I will surrender the command of my army to no one," the Prince said, and a loud murmur of approval came from the men of Innes. He prayed the company of the curious that followed him would look enough like a loyal and resentful army that Menwyn would not dare insult them.

Menwyn indeed did look like a man on shifting ground. "But my Prince"—he almost stammered—"we will fight a major battle this day upon which all of our future success depends. With all due respect, no man could assume command of such a large force on such short notice. All of our carefully laid plans would be in danger.""Then send my officers to me so that I may be informed of your plan. I will be with my men." He bowed courteously and turned his horse. A passage opened up before him, the men pressing back all the while nodding and whispering approvingly among themselves. "Return to ranks!" the Prince ordered, and this call was taken up down the length of the encampment.

Slowly the men returned to their places, officers of lower rank stepping in to organize. Michael suspected that if he had a loyal fol-lowing, it would be here, among the men and junior officers. "Rica?

You are now the captain of my guard. Find me fifty loyal men and give them an armband or some kind of insignia so that I will know them." He pointed to the center of the army of Innes. "Find a pavil-ion and pitch it there, in the center, but leave the walls rolled up so that all may see me. Find four banners and raise them up on poles—nothing ostentatious—I just want my presence to be felt. Then bring me the junior officers, five at a time. Do you know them?""Many of them, sir, though not all.""I will have you stand by and tell me something of each of them…" But he was drowned out then as the men called for three cheers for their prince, the valley echoing with their voices. He hoped that Pwyll and the others heard this, for they would be won-dering what had happened.

A small pavilion was quickly erected. Surcoats of the disbanded house guards were found, and Rica mustered the men for their master's review. The Prince walked among them, speaking quietly. "There have been many betrayals of late," he said. "Friend and foe are no longer easily recognized. You must therefore be prepared to follow my orders without question. If I order you to cut down some captain, even one who has served our house for thirty years, you must do it without hesitation. Is there any man among you who cannot do that?" The men responded quickly, as he'd hoped they would. The Prince of Innes had been murdered—a failure they did not want to repeat.

"Rica," the Prince said, as they returned to the pavilion, "place only a single guard at each tent post. I want the men in ranks to be able to see me and to see that I trust them utterly." The Prince looked around at the men sitting in ordered rows, many a curious eye turned his way.

Rica quickly arranged the guards, the bulk of them seated in a square around the pavilion. He came back to the Prince, who stood watching men erect a map table beneath the canvas shelter. "Your grace should know that the captains of all the companies have been replaced by men loyal to Menwyn Wills."ean Russell S^x^S "What happened to my father's officers?""Many were demoted into the ranks, your grace. Others were ejected from the army, some few left in shame, unable to accept this treatment.""Bring all of these new officers to me and find as many of my father's company commanders as you can, or their immediate sub-ordinates. I will replace all of Menwyn's officers within the hour.""Your grace," said Rica, "some of these men will not acknowl-edge your authority.""Give them one warning. Any insubordination will be punished by summary execution. If they so much as hesitate after that, you must cut them down. If we wish to take back control of the army, we cannot falter."Rica saluted and gathered a small company to follow him. The Prince cast his eye back toward the pavilions of Lord Menwyn. No doubt there was quite a heated debate going on there at this mo-ment. The longer it lasted—to a point—the better. Michael needed some time to reverse the coup Menwyn had staged. Some men would have to die, he feared, but it could not be helped. If the army wasn't firmly in his control within the hour, then he would fail, and the hours of life left him would be few.