The Warrior King: Book Three of the Seer King Trilogy (16 page)

Next was the same question, for Tenedos. Kutulu had sent more than twenty agents into the heart of the enemy, and all but two were still reporting. But their information wasn’t cheery — Numantians continued to flock to the imperial standard. Kutulu estimated, and said this was a very good, very close estimate, he now had nearly a million men and had moved those units in Bala Hissar into Darkot, for large-scale exercises.

An army, sensibly led, starts by training a soldier to march up and down and back and forth without questioning these or any other orders and to fear and follow his superiors. Then he’s folded into a squad, a company, a regiment, and an army. At each stage, war games are held. The bigger the games, the closer the army is to battle readiness.

So Tenedos would not be holding in place much longer.

What about the government, the Grand Councilors? Their army had also increased slightly, to about three-quarters of a million strong, but hadn’t moved beyond its previous positions: Nicias-the Latane-Khurram.

Another question — what of Maisir? Was King Bairan letting his worst enemy rebuild without taking any action? Kutulu made a face — he hadn’t many agents that far south, and their reports took forever to reach him, and their reports were contradictory. Evidently Bairan had called up additional age groups, which was the way Maisir recruited, so he was increasing his troop strength. But no units were moving toward the Maisirian-Numantian border, although Kutulu had two fragmentary reports that King Bairan had sent a large expedition into Kait to quiet the always-restive bandits of the hill tribes. He had nothing at all about the expedition’s size, progress, or capabilities.

“Interesting,” I said. “We’ll assume the Maisirians are still unready, but a definite threat.” I turned to Sinait. “A question I should have asked, back in Cimabue: Tenedos is less a soldier than a wizard. What large spells is he preparing? What countermeasures have you readied?”

“I’ve studied every piece of magic he used against both Kallio and Maisir,” she said, “and have devised counterspells against most of them. The great demon he raised once and was prepared to summon is an unknown.

“The problem is that his power is far greater than mine. I could, for instance, attempt an oversight of his area, but I’m deathly afraid any normal sort of ‘seeing’ might be turned against us.”

I remembered the demon Thak, seen in the ‘safe’ Bowl, and how he’d ravened up at Tenedos and me before the seer was able to break the spell.

“I’ve summoned every magician I can find and am trying to teach them to work in unison, as the Maisirians did with their War Magicians. Their spells, I’ve heard, hit the emperor hard.”

“They did,” I agreed. “He said it was because there were so many of them, and their incantations swarmed around like bees. He’d break one, and another would take its place.

“But I’ve had a thought since then … remember, I know little to nothing about sorcery … is it possible Tenedos had problems not so much because of the
number
of spells sent, but because they each came from a different source? I know … you and Tenedos have taught me … a wizard tries mightily to find all he can about his enemy.

“But if there’s ten … or a hundred … enemies, all anonymous, mightn’t that not make a single wizard’s task harder, even though Tenedos had the Chare Brethren?”

Sinait nodded slowly. “An interesting perception. Worth studying.”

“If I’m right,” I said, getting a bit excited, “mightn’t it be possible to have ten or more people cast parts of a single spell … I don’t know how you’d get continuity … to make it harder to break?”

“That
is
a worthwhile thought,” she said. “I think so.”

I took a deep breath, feeling I was standing on a peak, and my words would send me tumbling down into a new and completely unknown world.

“Very well,” I said. “I’ll take your high command. But send no messengers to broadcast the news. Instead, I want you, Seer, to have your magicians cast a spell to block Tenedos’s ‘sight.’ Cast it slowly, subtly, so it builds.

“When you think it’s dark, or thick enough, or whatever way you’d describe something like that, then summon the army.
All
the army.”

“But that’ll provide one great, easy target,” Kutulu objected. I knew very well the risk, but this was something that must be done.

“Yes, sir,” Kutulu said after a momentary pause. “I’ll not question your orders again.”

“Yes, you will,” I said. “For I’m mortal, which means I’m an easy fool and need to be reminded of that every now and again. That’s what led the emperor into the mire — no one, or hardly anyone, ever asked if he was certain he was doing the right thing or told him he was full of shit. Not that he would have changed his mind or course if they had,” I said, a touch of bitterness in my voice.

“So I’m yours,” I said. “I’ll make my staff appointments as time goes on. But the first two are these — Kutulu, you’re to become my adjutant, although I don’t want you to waste time worrying about supplies or soldiery. But I want you to have instant access to me with any news of Tenedos, Bairan, or the Grand Councilors.”

“Yes, sir.” Kutulu’s face glowed, I swear, and he drew himself to attention and saluted, as if he were a soldier in uniform. I remembered his dream was to one day be named tribune, and he’d made the mistake of asking that boon of the emperor, which set Tenedos’s hand against him, for the emperor believed spies could never be honored like soldiers.

I wouldn’t make that mistake. A carved length of wood, or a sash, or a bit of metal … all have only the value the giver and the taker place on them. If they bonded a man to me, to my commands, I’d give him anything.

“You, Sinait, are to be Kutulu’s equivalent for sorcery. Either of you can make necessary decisions, without having to wait on my approval.

“Just try not to do something that’ll lose the war without giving me a couple of minutes’ warning.”

Sinait chuckled, and Kutulu tried a smile on for size, decided he liked it.

“Now, let’s begin this probably hopeless task.”

• • •

It took three weeks for my soldiers to reach my headquarters, a smallish town named Paestum, which I’d chosen because five major roads — at least major for a poor state like Amur — met there. Also, someone had built a huge inn on the outskirts in the grandiose and false notion that Paestum was about to become a great market town.

The abandoned inn was perfect for my headquarters. I wouldn’t have to requisition anyone’s dwelling or business and make yet another set of enemies nor be piously miserable in tents pitched in some field.

The soldiers marched, or rather straggled in, their bedding a blanket and piece of canvas to wrap themselves in rolled across their backs, carrying their cookware and, often as not, a chicken grabbed in some village they’d passed through. Few had any uniform, only half were armed, and that half with a huge array of weaponry from modern to antique to improvised. They bivouacked in fields around Paestum and thanked various gods the weather remained dry.

I’d had a high wooden stand built in the center of a bare heath, and on a certain day the soldiers were assembled around it, covering the low hills around me.

I clambered up its steps, hoping I wouldn’t slip and begin my command with an ill-omened fall on my ass. I reached the platform, and a roar echoed around the hills. That was why I’d assembled my army, so my soldiers would see not a handful of fellows huddled in some byre, but a great host, and let these numbers give them strength, give them the courage of numbers.

I prayed to Isa of war and my monkey god Vachan for guidance and support while Sinait and three other magicians readied two spells. The first would amplify my voice, the second would subtly make anyone staring at me think they were closer than they were, able to make out the smallest change of expression on my face, yet not make me a giant.

“I am Damastes á Cimabue,” I began. “Some know me, some of you’ve served with me.

“Now I call you once more to my standard. Numantia needs warriors like you more than ever before in its history.

“This time, the battle is for freedom, and for our very souls.

“The man who was once our emperor, the man many of us served willingly, the man I served for many years, is now our worst enemy.

“You all know how he’s dedicated his service to a goddess I shall not name.”

Murmurs came from the ranks, and a few brave or unwary soldiers muttered “Saionji.”

“But by serving her, he has become a demon himself, serving only himself and death. He cares nothing for Numantia, nothing for you, his greatest servants, and will willingly sacrifice your lives, your souls, for one instant of the power he once held and the greater power he lusts for.

“The man who calls himself Laish Tenedos, the false emperor, must be brought down, and we shall be the ones to do it!”

The masses cheered again, but a bit tentatively, and faces in the crowd peered about, as if expecting demons to come out of the skies or ground.

“You sound fearful,” I said. “And you are right to be watchful, for Tenedos is a mighty foe. “But he is doomed!

“He serves evil, and evil cannot triumph, at least not for long. Umar did not create this world for evil, although priests say he may have withdrawn in sorrow, after seeing the great wickedness his creations wreaked, leaving Irisu to rule.

“Irisu is a mighty god, as are his manifestations and the other gods who serve him, and whom we serve.

“He will triumph, just as we will triumph.

“Numantia must be rid of Tenedos. That will be a beginning. Once we stand together as one, and all Numantia, from Khoh to Dara to Kallio to farthest Ossetia is united, then our sun shall be brighter than it ever was.

“And this will be a new sun of peace, from border to border, and with no enemies beyond to endanger us.

“We are climbing a great mountain, and the first step is the hardest.

“The first step is the destruction of the mad half-demon who calls himself Laish Tenedos.

“The task will not be easy. We must work hard, train hard, harder than you dream possible.

“But I promise you, the warriors you will become can stand against anything, cold steel or fiery demon, and seize victory!

“Numantia had a great army once, greater than the world has ever known.

“But you shall be greater, for your cause is that of good!

“Look about! Remember the faces around you, for all of you will be ennobled by your task. This day is the beginning, the beginning of a new time. A time of peace, a time of prosperity, a time of greatness.

“Reach out, my brothers. Reach out for this time. Fight hard. Fight as one!”

I let my voice build into a great roar: “For Numantia and our gods!”

The roar swept over me like a tempest, and I could feel the strength, the will in their cries.

Next I would have to change it from empty wind to harsh reality.

• • •

I thought I’d built an army before, when Mercia Petre, the emperor, and I had shaken the Rule of Ten’s bloated, slothful organization into a new fighting formation. But even then we had something to build from.

Now I had nothing but half a million eager civilians, only a scatter of trained soldiers.

That eagerness could be a virtue, for my recruits would be willing to put up with far more ineptness and error than any conscript. But my grace period would only last for a time, and the mood of the volunteers could change, and they’d trickle away just as rapidly as they’d come to Paestum.

A civilian might think the hardest part was finding officers and warrants, but there’s always enough men who love being able to shout their fellows around, even to their deaths, and wear baubles to proclaim that privilege. There’d be problems later, when we went into combat, and those with the pretty sashes and authority would find an army rewards its warriors for their willingness to die.

It’s an old and true saw that the biggest blusterer is frequently the first to break and run or, worse, send others to a pointless, stupid death.

But there’s no way of testing how men will behave in battle except battle itself, so I put that concern away for the time.

There was a scattering of men who’d served before, and I promoted them as high as I dared, and one level further, knowing many a sergeant wanted no rank higher and wouldn’t be competent to hold it, either. I daily mourned the leaders I remembered, men whose bones were forgotten in the Maisirian
suebi.

One gift from the past was Sendraka, once of Yonge’s skirmishers, who, as a captain, had brought Marán and me from her estates to Nicias and I began my odyssey to Jarrah. I hadn’t thought any skirmisher survived, since they were always the first to fight and gladly sacrificed by the emperor to build his blood spells. But there were a few. Sendraka had served through the Maisirian campaign, then been lanced in the upper thigh during the retreat through Urey. The scouts were seldom taken prisoners, since they were hated by the Maisirians, particularly by their outriding cavalry, the Negaret. Sendraka had gone to ground and let the armies pass while he painfully recuperated. It had been a year before he could walk, a year and a half before he could mount, and by that time the war was long over.

I asked why he hadn’t been promoted higher than captain of the upper half. “There wasn’t much rank in the skirmishers, but a lot of death, the way the emperor misused us,” he said. That’s a problem in any elite formation. There’s envy and dislike for them in the regular branches, and so rewards come but seldom.

“Besides,” he said wryly, “I’ve never been one to keep my mouth shut if a man insists on playing the fool and then asking my opinion.”

I grinned, told him that was now a recommended policy, promoted him to domina, and put him in charge of forming a corps of skirmishers. I didn’t know how good he was in combat, but managing to elude the Negaret with a gaping hole in his leg suggested he might be properly devious.

I thought longingly of Yonge of the Hills, the sly fox I really needed, but there was no way to summon him from his murderously gained throne in Sayana.