Fortress Draconis (53 page)

After far too short a time, the company circled overhead so fast and so low that the breeze of their passing tousled Will’s hair and tugged at the ends of his headband. Their circle tightened, then they descended, grounding themselves. They knelt and their wings overlapped in a black-and-scarlet disk surrounding the fire. Their bodies heaved with breathing, but they kept their heads down and hidden.

Applause, unbridled and enthusiastic, arose from the humans, while keening calls from the Gyrkyme echoed through the room. The joyous cacophony filled the air as the entertainers had once done, and showed no sign of slackening. Will clapped his hands as hard as possible, and whistled as loudly as he could. He’d never seen anything like that performance before, and couldn’t imagine seeing its like again.

The Tirigo rose, his dark eyes reflecting the golden firelight, and slowly the chamber drifted back to silence. He smiled, his crest rising, then bowed his head to the dancers. “The beauty of your offering does more honor to our daughter than words and awards could ever imagine.” He clapped his hands once, allowing the dancers to rise and filter out of the room to a renewal of applause.

Once they had departed, the Tirigo bade Alexia stand. “We have, among us, a tradition of honoring the best among us with the title ‘Wing.’ The triangles in which you are seated mimic the pattern in which we fly, and that individual at the point acts as a guide. That position is the most difficult in a flock, not only because of leadership responsibilities, but because it demands the most physical strength. Those of us who follow have our wings lifted by the winds our leader’s labor produces.

“Our Wings are known among us by their honorific. He who became Alexia’s father, after bringing her here from far Okrannel, is known to us as Ironwing. Taken beneath his wing, Alexia became the leader you know her to be. Now, with you, she shall return to Okrannel, to fulfill the mission for which she has been trained. From us, in acknowledgment of all she is and her value to us and the world, we proclaim her to be Goldwing.”

A small brown Gyrkyme approached bearing a cloth-covered tray. The Tirigo took a gold chain with a gold feather amulet on it and settled it over Alexia’s bowed head. The feather rested just below her throat, against her breastbone. He slipped her hair out from beneath the chain, then bowed to her.

Alexia swallowed hard, then smiled carefully. A hand rose to touch the amulet, then she closed her eyes for a moment. When they opened again, it was to the accompaniment of applause and vocalizations by the Gyrkyme. Her smile broadened. She pressed a hand to her lips for a moment, then looked out over the assembly.

“Thank you, Ausai Tirigo, and you, the Gyrkyme. Here I

was always the fledgling, the one whose wings never sprouted. You could have pitied me and reviled me, but you did not. All of you accepted the mission my father had given Ironwing.“ She opened her arms wide. ”While you see no feathers on me, the fact is that I am fletched with all you taught me about courage, honor, determination, and nobility. There might be some who would say my blood made me a diamond, but without your efforts I would have been dull and gone unnoticed.

“To be named Goldwing, this …” She faltered for a moment and glanced down before continuing. “It is a dream we have all shared here, and yet I do not think myself worthy. Your confidence in me shall be an investment, and I shall make it pay handsomely for you. Whatever successes I have, all shall know they would never have been save for you.”

Alexia’s eyes hardened as her gaze swept over the men present. “And you, my comrades, you now know the proud and beautiful womb from which I emerged. Together we will be born again of Gyrvirgul. West and north we’ll go to the land of my birth, and together we can once again make it a home.”

IT! hough it was likely just her imagination, Alexia felt a I tingle run through her as she rode across the border X from Jerana into Okrannel. A granite obelisk, which had once stood tall but had been hacked and cracked to where she could see the jagged top from on horseback, marked the line between the two nations. She smiled, taking no offense at the broken obelisk, since the weathering proved it had been vandalized long before the Aurolani forces had ever invaded Okrannel.

It did feel good to be in Okrannel. As with her previous journey, when she engaged in her dream raid, she concentrated to see if her blood would sing with joy at her return. So many of the other exiles reported such things that part of her wondered at how normal she was when it didn’t happen to her. Though disappointed years ago, and a bit yet even now, she didn’t worry about the silent fluid in her veins.The romance of a return has nothing in common with the reality.

Alyx couldn’t allow herself to be fully at ease, however, and again not because of the presence of Aurolani forces. The coast road brought the army past the Jeranese port city of Ooriz and up onto the Zhusk plateau. The plateau was home to a native people who, while primitive, had proved defiant and elusive. Adrogans, in explaining that he’d set up his headquarters on the plateau, said that the Zhusk hated the Aurolani more than they did Okrans or Jeranese warriors, hence their willingness to help in the war.

The Zhusk had long been a problem for both kingdoms. As mountain tribesmen they normally presented very little of a threat to either nation. Occasionally, however, a leader would form up a company of bandits who would raid down into the Svoin basin, into Ooriz, or even up into parts of the Crozt peninsula. Expeditions sent to punish them might catch a few, or burn some villages, but the heavily forested plateau prevented the sort of pitched battles that might break Zhusk power forever. Fortunately the Zhusk’s complicated clan system usually had them fighting each other, which reduced their outside threat, though it did hone their martial skills.

The obelisk, in fact, had been destroyed by the Zhusk who never accepted that a portion of their plateau had long ago been ceded to Jerana. While Alyx took Adrogans at his word that the Zhusk were allies for the moment, the potential for trouble could not be ignored. She feared less for her personal safety than she did for Zhusk support vanishing when needed.Still, if Adrogans is inclined to trust them, I won’t undermine his position unless necessary.

The journey to Okrannel from Gyrvirgul had taken a full week and then some—twelve days—though the travel had not been particularly hard and they had made good time. Having a full company of Warhawks available for long-range scouting virtually eliminated the threat of an ambush. Midway through Jerana several of the Gyrkyme were sent to Lakaslin to report to Queen Carus. Adrogans did impress Alyx by using multiple couriers for the same message, requiring them to get a receipt with their delivery that allowed him, on their return, to know exactly who had been given the message and when.

The fact that he used winged messengers instead ofar-canslata did surprise her. She asked him about his choice and expected some frippery in reply, but he grew serious for a moment. “Physical messages I can seal and send myself, limiting those who can read them. With anarcanslata, at the very least, the mage who sends the message knows what I’ve written.Arcanslata are useful when speed of communication is vital, but secrecy is another matter entirely.”

The messages to the queen did include some sensitive information. On the road north the expedition did meet the Gurolans Stoneheart Battalion. The heavy infantry marched along at a solid pace, and were quite willing to march further during a day than the expedition required. While rather taciturn and keeping to themselves in camp, at night they gathered together and filled the evening with rousing ballads of valiant deeds from their history.

The expedition arrived at Adrogans’ base in mid-afternoon on the last day of their journey and Caro immediately ceded command back to Adrogans. The army spread out through a valley, the center of which had been cleared for years. At the camp’s heart lay a collection of daub-and-wattle huts with thatched roofs that were clearly of Zhusk manufacture. Spreading out around them, grouped by nationality, were the troops that had shipped up from Yslin. Helurca, Alcida, Jerana, Naliserro, Valicia, and Loquellyn were all well represented and the cavalry companies soon joined their countrymen in setting up -tneir own camps. The Vilwanese, Gyrkyme, Savarese Knights, and the mercenaries all staked out their own territory a bit further away from the village center. The Gyrkyme picked a small hill toward the northeast that provided them height from which to fly, and had the added advantage of being as far away from the elves as possible.

Alyx turned her horse over to one of her Wolves, then marched along with General Caro to the longhouse where

Adrogans dwelt. The building was easily twice as deep as it was wide, and the third of it nearest the door was devoted to sleeping mats and baggage. Neither the accommodations nor their arrangement supported the image of Adrogans as fop. That illusion would have been impossible to maintain given the way the rest of the longhouse had been laid out, but the lack of pretense surprised Alyx.

The vast majority of the building had been given over to maps hung from walls, and a huge table on which Okrannel had been modeled. Little wooden blocks had been painted up with the appropriate regimental colors and placed on the landscape, representing the coalition forces gathered to oppose Chytrine. Oddly enough, Alyx noted, given the map’s scale, the placement of the headquarters showed them to be twenty miles north of their true position.Does he suspect a spy here who might give us away to Chytrine?

Aside from Caro, Adrogans, and herself, and a half-dozen Jeranese troopers applying calipers to maps and carrying measurements to the model or vice versa, the longhouse held only two other individuals. The male, scrawny and small, with skin darkened by dirt and sun, smiled gap-toothed at them. What little hair he did have was worn long enough to cover his shoulders. Beads and bones—strung round his neck, piercing his ears, or affixed to his leathery flesh with small metal rings—appeared to be Zhusk talismans of power. A woven loincloth secured by a braided leather belt served as his only clothing.

The woman could not have been more a contrast, for she shared Alyx’s light coloration, though her eyes were a deep cerulean. Her clothing, which consisted of pale leather trousers, moccasins, and tunic, had curious adornment. The seams had been overstitched with running strips of leather knotwork. Alyx knew enough of her homeland to know this woman was from the Guranin highlands to the west, and had she been able to read the knots correctly, she could have deciphered which clan and town claimed her.

Adrogans smiled. “General Turpus Caro you already know. Phfas of the Zhusk and Beal mot Tsuvo, I present to you Princess Alexia of Okrannel.”

The Zhusk broadened his grin and cackled a bit, but said nothing intelligible.

The Guranin warrior dropped to one knee and bowed her head, letting her blonde hair ripple down to veil her face. “It is an honor of unknowable proportion to be presented to you, Highness.”

Alyx nodded slowly. “The honor is mine, and the glory is to Clan Tsuvo. The ability of the highland clans to hold off the Aurolani is legend among the exiles, but for you to have arrived here, crossing through their lands, requires courage that only runs in highland veins.”

Phfas snorted. “Ask who guided them here, Svarskya.”

The princess cocked her head as the Zhusk made the capital’s name into a curse. “Forgive me, Phfas, but the identity of their guides I had long since puzzled out. Not only would they not have found their way here, but they could not have remained without the forbearance of the Zhusk. Just as they would not be here, neither would I, since it was in these forests as a babe I slept in the arms of Preylnosery Ironwing. Without your blessing, neither he nor I would ever have left Okrannel.”

Ine little man cackled. “You were here, so you had al-reidy left Okrannel.”

“A point lost on the enemy we both face.”

Phfas tugged on a bone carving of a raven set into the extended lobe of his right ear. “Hearing wisdom from Svarskya is an omen of hope.”

Adrogans stepped to the large model of the countryside. “In the hopes we have more such omens, please, if you would join me.”

Beal rose and slipped past Adrogans. Alyx slid around the other side of the table to stand beside her, leaving Adrogans and Caro at the southern border. Phfas hovered near the corner with his beloved plateau, crouching so that little of his face below his eyes was visible.

The Jeranese general narrowed his eyes. “This represents the current strategic situation as nearly as we can make out. Our forces here number approximately seventeen hundred cavalry and three thousand infantry. Our object is to descend from the plateau here and lay siege to Svoin. The city, back when the Aurolani forces conquered it, was home to nearly twenty thousand men, women, and children, with a small Vorquelf population. We believe, at the most, that the city now houses a quarter that number. It serves as the headquarters for one of Chytrine’s regiments and is supplemented by a Vorquelf legion.”

Caro shook his head. “Vorquelves working for Chytrine? I can’t believe that.”

Phfas’ head bobbed as if floating in a choppy ocean. “The witch has them hunt us, but they fail.”

Adrogans nodded. “It would appear there are some Vorquelf hostages being held by the Aurolani. I don’t know that we can liberate them prior to the siege, but any plan to do so would be one I would be willing to entertain.”

Alyx frowned. “Slipping a force into an enemy-held city, to find people who might or might not exist, and get them out while an army is laying siege to the city would be suicide.”

“Does that mean you won’t take the assignment, Princess?”

Alyx’s head came up. “What?”

The Jeranese general’s eyes half lidded. “Just a question, inspired by your raid on the building in Yslin. It strikes me as a puzzle you and your compatriots might be able to solve.”

“Perhaps we could, but there are larger issues I’d prefer to address.” Alyx pointed to a set of twelve wooden blocks set halfway between Svarskya and Svoin, in the heart of the Bhayall lowlands. “This Aurolani regiment would appear, if I read the markings right, to be mixed heavy and light infantry, heavy and light cavalry. What is its makeup?”