The Seer King: Book One of the Seer King Trilogy (5 page)

His voice came, and it was the commanding thunder of Irisu himself, but the words were completely unexpected:

“I am Seer Laish Tenedos. You must be my executioner.”

A M
AGICIAN’S
D
REAMS

For a moment I thought the seer had gone mad. But before I could respond, a smile grew on his face, and I basked in the warmth of a spring sun. “Ah, but I see I am wrong,” Tenedos said. “I sense you mean me no harm, and I humble myself with apologies. Consider me the least of men who insulted the one who saved his life.” He bowed low.

I saluted, and introduced myself, my mission, and my assignment. I explained the problems we’d had, from a seeming error in orders to the slow pace we’d been able to make through the pass. Tenedos nodded.

“We shall discuss this further, and perhaps I can add to your knowledge. I note from your speech that you are from Cimabue, eh?” I braced myself for some probably generous but demeaning comment, but instead Tenedos said, “Then we shall be the closest of associates and in time, I hope, friends, for I, too, am from a land far from the cabals and conspiracies of Nicias and consequently am frequently chaffed about my origins. I am from the islands of Palmeras.”

I knew the lands he spoke of, but only from my map-reading classes at the lycee. They are a cluster of islands off Numantia’s western shore, the largest giving its name to the archipelago. The inhabitants are nearly as maligned as Cimabuans, infamous for their long memories for a wrong, their willingness to take injury, and their hotheadedness. On the other hand, they’re also noted for loyalty to a friend and truthfulness, in so long as it does not interfere with righting a wrong. Also like Cimabuans, they’re looked at in Nicias as distinctly lesser beings instead of as fellow Numantians.

“As for that great insult I laid at your feet, allow me to explain why I erred after we have dealt with this mess.”

We treated our wounded and put our wounded animals out of their agony. There were no Men of the Hills to succor — their wounded had either been dragged away by their fellows, crawled off, or been killed. War is ruthless on the Frontiers; our wounded would have been treated similarly, although their deaths would not have been the quick ones my soldiers granted.

After that the wagon in the river was righted, and such goods as could be salvaged brought ashore. There were enough bullocks surviving to pull all the wagons, although our pace would be slowed since two of them must be linked in tandem.

The corpses of the two elephants were dragged together by teams of bullocks. I spared a moment to pray that the brave soul of that animal who’d attempted to join my charge would be advanced on the Wheel, and perhaps return as a babe who would grow to be a warrior.

Then the bodies of the bullocks, horses, and men were stacked around the elephants. Already the hot sun was making the blood-stink rise.

Tenedos ordered a chest taken from a wagon, and took out certain items. He sprinkled oil on some of the bodies, then found a small twig, and touched it to the drying blood of men, horses, oxen, and elephants in turn, then finally to a bit of the oil.

He said he was ready, but first he asked if I could assemble my men, as he had a few words to say. It was unusual, but I obeyed, leaving only the sentries to watch for another attack and for our infantry coming up the pass road.

“Men of the Ureyan Lancers,” he began, and once more his voice was magically enhanced, so it rang across the valley. “You have served Laish Tenedos well, and your deeds shall never be forgotten. You are warriors, real Numantians, and I am proud to know you, and count you my comrades, even though we met but a few hours ago on this battleground.

“I am a seer, and I will make you a promise, now, here, and seal it in the blood of our fallen comrades. There are great times ahead, great deeds to be done and great prizes to be reaped. You, who have shown your courage and loyalty this day, I hope shall be among those who are richened by what is to come.

“I sorrow with you for your brothers who fell today, although their return to the Wheel is blessed, for they died doing good, and this will be remembered by the gods. Perhaps they shall return, and be among us once more, and live in the glorious times that shall come.”

He bowed his head, and we did the same. I marveled at his words — it was as if Tenedos were commander of this troop or a general instead of some diplomat we had been ordered to escort just as we’d done for others from the court of the Rule of Ten. I had heard other soft-handed shifting-eyed government emissaries blather about how they were soldiers at heart, and seen the rudeness or quiet contempt their words were held in. But not now, not by any of the Lancers, nor by me. Laish Tenedos might dress as a government officer, but he spoke as a true leader, and I began to believe I would follow and obey him gladly.

Tenedos had set up a brazier, and he kindled it with a spark-thrower. A small flame rose, and he chanted:

“Listen, unguent.

Feel the warmth

Feel the flame

You serve the gods.

You carry our lost

You serve Saionji.

Fire, burn

Fire, serve.”

As he spoke, he touched the twig to the tiny flame on the brazier, and as he did a great fire roared into life on the nearby pyre, soaring high into the sky, far higher than any oil-fed flame could.

Tenedos watched, and a grim smile touched his lips.

“Now, let
that
be seen in Nicias as a portent of what is to come,” he said quietly, and I doubt if anyone besides myself heard him.

We moved a short distance upriver, away from the flames, but close enough so we could see the ford, and set up defensive positions. I made sure my sentries were properly posted, then found a rock to sit on while Tenedos’s cook, assisted by a few of my men who claimed ability over a camp fire, prepared dinner from the luxurious viands the resident-general had been carrying. Tenedos had told me to take whatever was needed for dinner, saying, “What might have been a boon to the Achim Baber Fergana is better suited as provender for your honest man.” Once more, what might have been empty hyperbole I felt to be honest praise.

Tenedos approached. “Now,” he said, “since we have a few moments of peace, and there is no one within listening range, I shall explain why I said what I said when we met.”

He asked permission to sit, and I waved him to another rock, hoping I’d get a full explanation. I did, but it was as odd as his behavior.

“Have you ever known a man who suddenly decided all the world and all the gods had turned against him and were conspiring to destroy him?”

I had, at the lycee. One of the more promising cadets had gotten the idea the staff was trying to poison him, and he was warned by secret messages from the gods who wrote in private letters of flame across the sky. Seers and herbalists tried to treat him, but with no success, and he was returned to his sorrowing family. A few months later we were told that he’d killed himself, in a frenzy of terror because he now believed even his own blood was involved with the plot. I nodded.

“Good. So then be aware some of what I’m going to say may well sound mad. I will only ask that you keep your judgment of my madness to yourself, and do nothing about it until I’m completely irrational — or else proven to be right.”

I was looking at the Seer Tenedos with a bit of alarm by now. That sun-smile flashed again, and I felt warmed, and somehow
knew
Tenedos was sane, perhaps more so than I was.

“I’ll start my argument at the beginning.

“Don’t you consider it odd a seer like myself has been appointed to the position of resident-general?”

I did, but assumed Tenedos had some friends in the government, and this was a political payment, even if most Numantians would consider it as valuable a gift as a quadruple amputee would think scabies.

“That’s hardly the experience one would wish a man to have for such a posting, unless it were to a land ruled by sorcerers, which Kait is not,” Tenedos went on. “The reason I was chosen for this post, most dangerous and as far away from Nicias as it is possible to get, is I am an unpopular man with radical ideas.”

That, just from his behavior, I might well have assumed. I guess my opinion was obvious, because again Tenedos smiled.

“I was sent out here so honest Nicians would no longer be exposed to my heresies. I also now believe I was intended to die, considering those ‘special’ orders I received telling me to leave at once without waiting for my military escort, and of the obviously nonexistent safe passage.

“I could now suggest more evidence. I mean no offense, Legate Damastes á Cimabue, but I find it
very
unusual to see a full troop of cavalry commanded by a very junior officer, let alone if his column includes infantry, with a captain at its head, almost as if that legate were being set up to be the skittle the balls will be rolled at.”

I kept my face stony.

“Very good, Legate,” Tenedos approved. “I would have been surprised and disappointed if you’d made any response. Let me ask a few questions. You only need respond if the answer is yes to any of them: Are you a particular favorite in your regiment? Has your unit suffered a lot of casualties recently among the officer corps? Are you known as having any great skills in dealing with obnoxious and arrogant emissaries such as myself?”

Perhaps a smile came and went at that last, but I remained silent.

“Also as I expected,” Tenedos said. “Let us make some assumptions. The first is the Rule of Ten was accurate when they said Kait, the Border States, is preparing to rise once again. Let us further suppose,” Tenedos continued, “the Rule of Ten might wish to crush this unrest with an iron boot heel, such as has not been done for a generation or more. If that were the case, would not the death of their envoy be a perfect reason for sending the heavy battalions, not merely a punitive expedition, into Kait?

“With that as Numantia’s reason, the Kaiti could appeal to Maisir all they wished, but it would be unlikely King Bairan would respond. Ah, I see you are unaware the Kaiti have always played Numantia and Maisir against each other, so neither country can bring the Border States into its dominion without the risk of offending its great neighbor.

“The murder of a resident-general might also be enough of a reason for the state of Dara to finally extend its borders to include Urey, and end the three-sided argument between us, Kallio, and Maisir about its proper ownership.”

“I know nothing about such things,” I said. “I am but a soldier, and not political.”

This time Tenedos’s smile was pitying.

“Damastes, my friend,” he said, and his voice was soft, “the time is coming near when
all
Numantians will have to be political.”

He was about to go on, but a sentry cried out that Captain Mellet’s column was coming up the road, and in minutes the dust-boil was close enough for us all to make it out.

I had not expected the infantry until the next day, but Mellet said he had been shamed by my dash, and had forced double-speed on the marching soldiers, even allowing them, five at a time, to ride on the carts for a break, and chancing ambush by marching an hour after dark and an hour before sunrise. “I thought,” he said, “that’d be unexpected of us, and so the hillmen might not have time to set their traps, and so it’s proven.”

Camp routine and determining the new order of march occupied the rest of the day. All the while, I kept working at Seer Tenedos’s words. I am not a swift thinker; all know that. But I am most thorough, and worry at something until it comes clear in my mind. But what Tenedos had said was still puzzling me when the sun rose and we set off toward Sayana.

Now that we did not have to race on, we could move as common practice and logic dictated, putting flankers out when the country was open, and sending pickets to take each hilltop before we passed under it. The country was less sharp, less broken, so the peaks took less time to clamber up and down, and we made acceptable speed.

The first two villages we passed were as the first: deserted except for babes, women, and ancients. The tribes
were
planning something, and I hoped it was longer-ranged than the obliteration of my command.

The third village was as the other two — almost. Laish Tenedos was riding in front, beside me, on Rabbit. I cannot say I heard anything, but turned for some reason, and saw a boy appear from behind a wall, drawing an old bow nearly as big as he was, aimed full at my chest! I had no time to duck aside, and knew my doom, hearing warning shouts from the column when the rotten wood snapped in two, just below the grip. The boy shouted with rage, and was about to dart away when Lance Karjan swept up at the gallop and caught the lad by an arm, pulling him, kicking and squirming like an eel, up across his saddle.

I dismounted, and walked to Karjan’s horse. I grabbed the boy’s hair and lifted his head, so I could see his face.

“So you wanted to kill me?”

“Chishti!”
the boy swore.
Chishti
is a very rude word in one of the hill dialects used to describe a man who has slept with his mother. “
Chishti
Numantian!” What more reason could he need?

Tenedos laughed. “A lion cub always thinks he’s full grown, doesn’t he?”

“Shall I kill ‘im, sir?” Lance Karjan growled, hand on his dagger.

“No,” I said. “Set him down. I don’t murder babes.”

The soldier hesitated, then obeyed, tossing the boy down with one hand. He should have sprawled, but twisted in midair, and landed on his feet. He stood half-crouched, exactly like a trapped beast of prey.

“Go on,” I said. “When you try again, remember to use a bow that’s been oiled, not your grandfather’s that’s dried on the wall for a generation.”

For this advice the boy spat in my face, and was gone, disappearing into a twisting alley between huts before I could wipe my eyes clear.

“Thus,” Tenedos said, mock-mournfully, “is how mercy is returned in these hills. Perhaps you
should
have killed him, Legate. Cubs grow to be lions, and then are hellish to hunt down.”