The Grand Crusade (41 page)

”

The Vorquelf nodded. “Don’t worry, Kerrigan. They are now.”

fT] he week-and-a-half journey to the Noriva capital of Logbal went far better

than Adrogans would have expected. The original strategy of skipping some 1 towns while taking over others, as they had done in Nowhere, underwent a certain amount of modification as the troops moved forward. Adrogans used his cavalry to range faster and deeper and let it secure small towns and crossroads settlements in Caro’s name. The infantry, which moved more slowly, consolidated the gains and accepted the surrender of the larger towns—none of which was very big at all.

And the toing-and-froing of his troops meant that the supply train with the dragonels could pass unnoticed through the countryside. The conquests were accomplished with very little violence, and not much alarm had been raised. Some individuals, like bards and tradesmen, were allowed into towns further along the line of march, both to spread Caro’s story and news of how benign the raiders were. Moreover, the story they told—if it got to Aurolani ears—would be pleasant news indeed.

Caro’s story was a welcome one in Noriva. He let people know that Adrogans had, in fact, captured dragonels in Svarskya and decided to create his own empire. Caro had escaped with some loyal followers and headed north into Noriva because Adrogans was bound south to go after Valicia and Gurol. The people of Noriva did not want dragonels blasting their towns and, better yet, the absence of Adrogans meant that the Aurolani were not likely to head west to fight with them in their domain.

Adrogans did not concern himself with what might happen if those rumors made it out of the Ghost March and back to the crowns. Most would assume it was Aurolani disinformation designed to cause a panic and would ignore it. Those who did believe would raise more troops, which would be a good thing in

case Chytrine did prove victorious. For the most part he expected the south would never hear the rumors, and that worked very well for him.

When the troops reached Logbal, Caro rode at the head of a thousand horsemen made up of the Alcidese Horse Guards, Matrave’s Horse, the Jeranese Queen’s Guards, and the Savarese Knights. All were very well disguised, with not a scrap of original uniform to be seen—though most buried some part of it beneath layers of other clothes. They looked very much like a horde of freebooters, and while they maintained a certain amount of discipline concerning maneuvers, their manners and comportment of speech had lost all traces of civilized company.

Adrogans, with a patch over one eye, his head shaved, a beard newly grown, and in the attire of a Zhusk shaman, trailed Caro with Phfas beside him. A squad of horsemen had approached Logbal under a flag of truce and presented demands to speak with Queen Winalia: “For the price of an audience, he shall return to her what is hers and offer her what she does not possess.”

It took a while for that message to get communicated, giving Adrogans time to study the city close up. Logbal—as its name implied—consisted mostly of log construction, though there were some of the larger buildings and a few defensive towers that had been built of stone and mortar. Most of the people lived in longhouses that lay on terraces over the five hills that resided within the ribbon of wooden walls surrounding the capital. Trenching and revetments had been dug and built such that getting siege machinery like a ram close enough would be a slow and deadly process. While the main road came in from the west, the gate it led to faced south. A ram would have to snake around south, west, and then north to hammer it, all the while subjected to raking shots from trebuchets and cadres of archers.

Dragonels would not have been so hampered. They could have just pounded the walls themselves until they disintegrated into a pile of splinters. Because Caro’s horde had no siege machinery, the citizens of Logbal had to feel secure, but having had the western towns taken, and the loss of tax revenue that resulted from their conquest, meant their city could not sustain itself.

After an hour, an envoy from the queen appeared at the gate. Caro and his senior advisors were welcomed into the city, and a party of citizens was sent out to act as hostages while the talks took place. Crown Princess Tisdessa was among the hostages, so Adrogans assumed the queen was not planning any treachery.

Phfas studied the princess as they rode past, then snorted. “A fine woman. The Nowhere man should have welcomed her.”

Adrogans smiled in spite of himself. “Dalanous was not much bigger than you, Uncle. Legs like hers, she would have snapped his spine in the throes of passion.”

Phfas looked again, then shrugged. “The warriors she would breed are worth the risk.”

Logbal’s main road had long since been churned into a thick mud, and was distinguished from the other roads only by the amount of gravel in the mud. People lined the streets, peered out from doorways, or stood on roofs to watch them ride past. Many did wear clothing made of skins, but none had the quiet dignity of the Zhusk. The general lack of color amid the people’s clothes and their homes combined with the ubiquitous streaking of mud over buildings, animals, and especially children. It reminded Adrogans of the most squalid of slums in Yslin or Lakaslin, yet the people here seemed more bovine than their feral urban cousins.

Similarly, the building that passed for a palace in Logbal mocked its counterpart in other capitals. It possessed a delightful stone facade that even extended back a dozen feet on each side. From that point on, however, it was a log longhouse with a thickly thatched roof. They dismounted and entered through a pair of tall wooden doors that admitted them to a cold stone foyer. The rest of the building’s floor had been paved with stone, but they were not joined with mortar as they were at the entrance. Straw had been strewn over the stones, though thinly enough that Adrogans could not tell if the distribution was by accident or just stingy.

At the far end of the longhouse—all but hidden in the smoky gloom, Queen Winalia sat in a throne that dwarfed her. Adrogans reflected, as they approached, that the chair had to be huge, for the queen herself was not a small woman. Rumors of her being a tall, obese person had not been inaccurate, save that she and the skins she wore appeared to be clean, and her smile had more teeth in it than fewer.

Caro stopped a dozen feet from the throne and bowed low to her. “Greetings, Queen Winalia. I come to tell you that the western portion of your domain is secure.”

The queen shifted, sagging slightly to the left. “Secure in your fist, Caro. You are a long way from Alcida. Do you secure it for me, or for Augustus?”

“Had my lord wished to possess the Ghost March, he would have kept it when he rode through a generation ago.”

“Perhaps he has changed his mind.” Her brown eyes moved sluggishly, studying Phfas, Adrogans, and the three other soldiers that had accompanied them. “I saw him then. He slew my grandfather.”

“My condolences, Highness.”

“None needed. He was a grasping weasel of a man—my grandfather, not Augustus. He needed killing in the worst way.” She sighed. “Alas, Augustus was kind and just slew him quickly.”

Caro’s white brows knitted together. “You seem somewhat dispassionate about your kin.”

Winalia smiled slowly and sat up, shedding the bovine image she’d earlier projected. “And this makes you think that even having my daughter among the hostages might not guarantee your safety?”

“That thought did occur to me, yes.”

She laughed aloud, though her mirth quickly broke into a hacking cough. She spat to the side, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Good one, that was. Worth a bit more than my daughter.”

Phfas shot Adrogans a glance that betrayed just a hint of concern.

But Caro remained composed. “If you kill us, we kill them, and you lose the west.”

She shook her head. “I lose the west, and the Aurolani lose their source of lumber and other things. They’ll take the west back for me.”

“They’ll take the west back, but they won’t return it to you. Which is why I have allowed trade to continue. I did not want them alarmed.”

Winalia considered for a moment, then nodded slowly. “What did you want?”

The Alcidese general exhaled slowly. “I am assuming the Aurolani are building a fleet to the east. While I have been forced to become a reiver while fleeing Adrogans, I am still a loyal son of Alcida. I would like to destroy the Aurolani fleet before they can launch it. Barring that, I want ships to carry me south so we can continue the fight.”

“Goals as honorable as they are impossible.” She lazily flicked a hand toward the east. “I’ve traveled to their shipyards to have it impressed upon me how important their effort is. Your men may be brave, but you have not even a regiment. You’d be slaughtered wholesale.”

“Perhaps, Queen Winalia, you would raise troops from among your people to help us.”

She laughed again, slapping a thick thigh that quivered fluidly. “I am not pleased that the Aurolani know I exist. I will not send my troops against them and remind them of that fact. Besides, I could raise perhaps another regiment, but you would still be vastly understrength, and their defenses make what I have here look as nothing.”

Caro folded his arms across his chest. “So the alternative is for us to spend the duration here?”

She snorted. “I would offer you sanctuary, but that might anger the Aurolani. It might also anger Adrogans.”

The Alcidese leader frowned. “Why would Adrogans concern you?”

“You have fled from him, which means he is formidable. You have also let it be known that he is not following you, but you continue to flee. I think it is possible that in a month I could awake to find him and his dragonels at my gates if I help you.”

“No, Highness, you have no need to fear that, I assure you.”

“Ah, Caro, you sound so sincere.” She shook her head. “But you give me assurances you cannot back up.”

Adrogans took a step forward. “Forgive me, Highness, but General Caro

speaks the truth. Help him, and Adrogans will not appear in a month and destroy your city. I guarantee you that with a solemn pledge.“

Her dark eyes sharpened. “And who are you that I would believe you?

He stripped the eye patch from his face. “Markus Adrogans, at your service. Help us, and you never need fear us. Fail, and those dragonels will raze your city

by dusk.“

“Oh,” she said. “This is a bit of a complication.

Adrogans shook his head. “I thought it was quite simple.”

“No, not at all. Now I have to figure out where I am going to put all of your

Ah that I understand, Highness. Do not let it concern you overmuch, however.“ Adrogans smiled and heard Phfas chuckle beside him. ”After all, we’ll only be here a very short time.“

fT| he smoke from his first quadnel shot blew back into Erlestoke’s face. His eyes teared and he couldn’t see, but it didn’t matter. He knew the shot had missed 1 the onrushing temeryx. Not only had the beast shifted in the last second, but he’d heard no screech following the weapon’s discharge.

Blind though he was, Erlestoke worked the charging lever, spinning the barrels. He locked the new one in place, then primed it for another shot. The smoke cleared enough that he saw the beast, and found it far closer than he expected—save in a nightmare. Making matters worse, his horse saw it and began to leap away. Not only did that make the frostclaw even more intent on attacking, but it robbed Erlestoke of any chance of shooting accurately.

This is it!

The frostclaw leaped for him. Its little foreclaws rent the air. Its head came up and its mouth gaped, revealing rows of sharp, serrated teeth. The rear muscles bunched and released as the creature became airborne. Its lozenge-shaped pupils dilated and a hiss rose in its feathered throat as one leg came up. The sickle-shaped claw cocked back, ready to carve through man and mount.

As it reached the apex of its leap, a brown blur streaked through the air and swooped up in a whispered rush of air. For a heartbeat brown wings eclipsed the snowy beast, then Erlestoke could see it again. The frostclaw’s muscles had already begun to soften, and white feathers drifted down. A red crescent had been slashed across its throat, all but severing the head.

The body twisted in the air and did hit the horse at the shoulder, but hit it broadside. The claw did snap down by reflex, but caught in the mail skirt of Erlestoke’s coat. Rings popped, but the claw tore only metal and leather, not the flesh beneath it. The dead beast hit the ground and thrashed, but the horse’s renewed leap carried it out of danger.

The prince thrust his quadnel into the muzzle of a gibberer and pulled the trigger. The muzzle blast singed fur and the lead ball blew through its skull. It pitched back, its body flaccid, and other charging gibberers folded around arrows piercing them belly and chest.

Erlestoke raised the quadnel in a salute to Preyknosery Ironwing, and the Gyrkyme warrior shrieked again in acknowledgment before folding his wings to swoop on another target. While other Gyrkyme used light spears and lances, Preyknosery preferred long curved knives with which he could carve up his foes. Mastering such weapons took a long time, according to the Gyrkyme in his company, and few warriors had lived long enough to attain his level of expertise.

Dranae’s draconette barked and akryalniriabdomen started to leak crimson. The prince cocked the quadnel again, but before he could prime, aim, and shoot, three arrows crossed in thekryalniri’sbreast. Its last words rode a red tide, then it collapsed.

Erlestoke had taken the Oriosan Prince’s Guards, a heavy cavalry unit made of expatriates who swore fealty to him, and driven them into a vale while positioning his infantry units in the hills east and west. Locals had indicated this heavily wooded area had been home to Aurolani forces, though their reports had grossly underestimated the enemy strength. Fortunately, the prince always applied the “Cavarre” rule when planning an operation: calculate the number of people needed to do the job, then double it. He’d learned that from the late Draconis Baron, and so far in the campaign it had worked well.