Mordraud, Book One (25 page)

‘
If I’d become a harmonies academic, or a resonance seeker, I’d have spent my days discoursing with eminent colleagues on tiresome harmony theories... Instead, in a few days’ time...’

He was so excited. Apart from a few skirmishes where he
’d served as captain, he still hadn’t really used his sword on the field, surrounded by dozens of foe.

‘
I’ll try to be as spectacular as can be... A flash of steel, my best chanting... I want to astound those pompous Imperial commanders. Asaeld more than the rest.’

There was a knock at the door. Dunwich got up to open it, and to his great surprise he found himself face to face with the commander, as if he
’d summoned him through thought. They went into the sitting room, after a few ritual greetings, and Dunwich poured a drink for his guest too.

“
Is there a problem, Asaeld? I wasn’t expecting to see you outside the Lances’ palace.”

“
I was passing by and I thought I’d drop in. I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow to tell you.”

“
Hmm? What?” Dunwich inquired, growing curious.

“
Do you remember that attack we discussed a few weeks ago?”

Asaeld seemed calm and relaxed, and Dunwich took it as a good sign.

“Have we broken through Eldain’s lines of defence south of the Hann Marshland? Those two hills are vital to creating an anchor base for our front.”

Asaeld sipped the spirit, nodding to show his appreciation.

“We lost miserably.”

“
WHAT?!” yelled Dunwich, springing to his feet. “How’s that possible? The strategy you and I traced out was brilliant! Making the most of the land, using four light cavalry divisions, with swift encircling assaults... Where did we go wrong?!”

Asaeld clucked his tongue, enjoying his mouthful of strong spirits.

“The Emperor changed the strategy. He felt it wasn’t aggressive enough.”

“
And what was it he opted for, for love of the Gods?! Attack the valley directly between the two hills?”

“
Exactly.”

“
BUT THAT’S MADNESS! Even a lunatic knows Eldain can exploit circumstances like that to perfection!” Dunwich was so enraged he began pacing to and fro, filling his glass several times. “I bet they slaughtered us on the flanks, but not before peppering us with arrows!”

“
That’s just how it went.”

“
But doesn’t it bother you? We’re talking about a battle lost! Not the price of fruit at the market!”

Asaeld put his glass down and stretched out his arms in resignation.
“And what am I supposed to say, or do? If Loralon doesn’t follow our advice, there’s nothing I can do about it. Let’s hope this defeat doesn’t have repercussions for the whole campaign.”

“
Damn it all!” cursed Dunwich, punching into his hand. “That little man’s incompetent! What a useless ruler we have to put up with...”

“
Don’t say that...”

Dunwich, with his back turned, couldn
’t see the faint smile that briefly branched across and lit up Asaeld’s face, before disappearing into the same distant expression as before.

“
Come on, let’s take advantage of the evening... Let’s have a look at the papers for the next battle. We still need to capture that stretch of the Hann River.”

“
Yes, let’s not waste time... I’m too livid to go out drinking. Do you mind if we stay in with a drop?”

“
Well done, that’s the spirit!” exclaimed Asaeld, patting his back.

Dunwich hurried to fetch the maps and the wooden markers, and began setting out his tools. He had a half-shaped idea that he couldn
’t wait to explain to Asaeld. The Lance commander nodded and complimented Dunwich on his conjectures.

“
If we had more people like you on the Council... in the highest places even...”

But Dunwich didn
’t pick up on the message. He was too busy tracing out his strategies with the wooden markers on the large colourful maps. Asaeld remained in silence for a while, watching his pupil develop plan after plan, then he moved closer, taking hold of a marker.

“
Well, I think we should move here first... not down there as you say...”

***

It was a pleasant sunny morning, ushering in the warm season. Deanna was in her reading room, sitting on the sill at the broad window looking out over the courtyard behind the villa. The orange blossom tea Mordraud had made her at breakfast had cooled down now, but was still delicious.

‘
If you hadn’t been with me in recent months, I’d have died of boredom,’ she thought, sipping the delicate beverage slightly sweetened with a spoonful of honey. Just the right amount. Not too sweet, nor too bitter.

Over a year had passed since Larois had advised her to take Mordraud into her home. She
’d reacted with an edge of mistrust to begin with, but with the arrival of the first summer she thanked the Gods for letting her make the right decision. Always having him around was a superb remedy for her natural tendency to down-heartedness, and it also allowed her to relive, at least in part, her best years – those of her childhood, when she spent all her time with the other children under the watchful gaze of the older brothers and sisters. Sometimes Deanna felt Mordraud was the elder of the two, and she was the same girl as back then.

‘
How daft I am! He can barely be fourteen, what am I thinking...?’

The truth was Mordraud was growing, and rather quickly. When she reminded him, he
’d go red and scrape his feet on the ground, as if he was ready to flee from one moment to the next – a mannerism that amused her immensely. His was still an unfledged face, but his shoulders, arms and back were taking shape well, thanks to his regular night training, which he never skipped. Mordraud wasn’t aware of it, but Deanna had heard him thrash and pant in the courtyard often. She’d grown used to it too – a sound she needed in order to reach untroubled slumber quickly and easily.

That room was strange. The courtyard noises seemed to bounce off the walls, and she was sometimes under the impression that Mordraud was just a step away, as the echo was so loud. She
’d never said anything to him, because she was afraid he might stop. ‘You’d blush like a girl,’ she mused, giggling. She enjoyed teasing him occasionally, but it was some time since she’d allowed herself to boss him about. As she’d done in the early days, or as she still did with the other domestic staff. Mordraud had become her friend in everything and for everything. He was no longer a servant. Perhaps he once had been, but merely for a day.

‘
He always wants me to eat something, even when I’m not hungry. He can tell whether I’m sad just from my step. He unfailingly has some little story for me, and I know he invents most of them the night before, getting them ready for the next day, and passing them off as Aelian legends.’

Mordraud was helping a farmer unload the cart of the provisions they
’d ordered. Wine, smoked and salted meats, pickled vegetables, soused fish and barrels of olive oil. The cart-driver was supervising with his arms folded, dispensing a constant flow of impertinent advice. Mordraud knew the man – an old lame veteran who’d exploit his disability at any chance so as to work less. Deanna smiled in her attempt to read the boy’s lips: such a foul-mouthed obscenity that it would have turned a dead man pale.

‘
For love of the Gods, where did he learn language like that?! Sometimes he behaves like a filthy brute....’

The sun gave no respite in the dusty
courtyard. When the last cases had finally been unloaded off the cart, Mordraud wrung out his garments, wincing in disgust. He was grubby and sweaty from head to foot. Deanna saw him look around to check if anyone was watching, and moved away from the window when his gaze went up to the reading room. Convinced he was alone, Mordraud entered the house through the storeroom, pulled out a large tub the laundry was usually washed in, and gave it a scrub. He made sure the gate leading to the narrow drive behind the house was locked, he secured all the chains, and began filling the container from the well located on the enclosing wall. Deanna was amused to follow his preparations.

‘
He must be wanting an outdoor bath. It is indeed lovely outside,’ she thought, blushing. The time had come to do something else, and leave him his privacy.

Just
as she was getting up from the sill, a servant knocked at the door.

“
A letter for you, madam.”

Deanna took the scroll with Adraman
’s seal – an
A
and an
N
intertwined in a blackberry bush. She waved the attendant away and shut the door again.

“
What’s happened?!”

She frantically broke the seal and unrolled the missive.

‘
Deanna, this year I ask you to pass the summer at our estate in the east, in the country. I can only take a short period of rest, and I’d like to spend it in the most peaceful and tranquil place I know. Set off as soon as you can, then send a letter to the couriers who go back and forth between the front and the fiefdom. Upon receiving your notification, I’ll join you. I miss you, Adraman
.’

The countryside again! Deanna felt her legs turn to jelly. That place was even more bor
ing than her house in Eld. Irked at the news, she crumpled up the letter and tossed it to the other side of the room. “He spends months and months at the front, then expects me to be waiting for him with a smile on my face and my legs open... that accursed old man,” she hissed huffily, but at once felt uncomfortable, as if she’d spilt a bowl of sticky treacle down her chest. Why did she hate Adraman so much, she asked herself. Because he was so much older than her? Or because she was always frightened he might not come back from the war?

She didn
’t want to think about it. Out of the corner of her eye, she looked into the courtyard. She could see Mordraud sitting on a wooden stool, bare-chested and dressed in just a pair of clean trousers. He was drying off in the sun, with his eyes closed and head tilted back. Then she saw a scruffy skinny child come to the gate and call Mordraud in a shrill voice.

“
Mordraud! Hi! I was passing by and...”

He sprang to his feet and ran towards the boy, throwing the gate open and hugging him tightly. It had to be Gwern, the brother he talked about now and again. She
’d never seen him before.

‘
They don’t look alike. Not even a vague similarity of distant relatives...’

Mordraud was happy. He waved his arms around and laughed in such a natural and innocent way that Deanna suddenly felt embarrassed to be spying on him. So she stood up and went behind the white curtain, falling back into her armchair and sinking into its plump cushions.

‘Best leave him be...’ she thought, immediately feeling better. The scene had swept away the tension Adraman’s wretched letter had clouded her with, but she couldn’t work out why exactly.

***

“Whenever I pass by I stop to see if you’re here. It’s great to find you!”

Hugging him, Mordraud lifted Gwern off the ground. His brother kicked the air and shrieked with laughter. They hadn
’t seen each other in months.

“
You never come by the inn to say hello. I was beginning to think you wanted to forget me!”

“
What on earth are you saying?! It’s just that I take my work seriously... I always have to be available for Deanna. I can’t leave the house much!”

“
Put me down! You’re all wet!” bawled Gwern. “Ugh, you feel horrible!”

“
Okay, don’t start complaining,” Mordraud retorted, letting him fall to the ground. “You’ve grown, you’re as heavy as lead! I bet Larois stuffs you with food every day!”

“
Yeah, look here! I feel better too. Working’s good for me, and it’s fun! The customers treat me like I’m everybody’s son, and always ask me how I am!”

“
You’re doing fine, then! Well done...” Mordraud circled his brother’s head under his arm and rasped his hair with his knuckles. Gwern burst out laughing again and thrashed around trying to free himself from Mordraud’s grip.

“
And you don’t know the rest! Come on, let’s sit down.”

Gwern told him that he
’d met Sernio, and that he’d got into the habit of reading heaps of books. He often lost track of what he was saying, and began telling stories he’d learnt off by heart, describing the plots, places and characters in detail.

“
And there are lots more I don’t yet know. The world’s brimming with wonderful tales! And Mordraud, you don’t know how crazy I am about... chanting...”

“
Why chanting?!” Mordraud inquired, perplexed and vaguely uneasy.

“
Seeking out resonances is fantastic! Sernio is always telling me about it. He saw the chanters in Cambria, they performed in the square... They can do little tricks... small, but amazing. Just think if you could make fire appear in your hands, or make it dance! Then there are all the coloured lights and little clouds of smoke they can shape into whatever form they want... I’d like to learn to do all that too... But I don’t see how chanting can let you mingle resonances with reality...”