Book 7: Chapter 13 |
OUR ARMY MADE CAMP on a big bend of the wide, slow-moving Miroir River. We ended up having to spend ten days there, because of the torrential downpours that started about two days after our arrival.
The many creeks and rivulets snaking their way through the landscape in those parts made the area marshy even in the driest of weather, so the addition of an uninterrupted cascade of water from the heavens meant that further marching was basically out of the question for the time being. In the end, the rain only let up after five days, and we then had to wait a further five days for the flooded Miroir to recede enough for us to attempt a crossing.
It just so happened that on the tenth day after our arrival, the scouts that we had recruited from among the locals finally returned. We had sent them ahead to check the condition of the Imperial track after the rains.
They had done their work very thoroughly; not only did they find that the road was still in passable condition, they also brought three exhausted and battered riders back with them. I recognized the leader of the sorry-looking trio immediately.
“Lord Gray,” I nodded in salutation to the lead rider, who had just shifted himself heavily off his horse and started lumbering stiffly in my direction.
He was one of the most powerful strykers in the Vestonian King’s service, but at the moment he was deathly pale. His bloodshot eyes had big, dark circles under them. He was obviously having some difficulty keeping his heavy eyelids from closing. The formerly-faint wrinkles around his eyes and on his forehead somehow looked much deeper than before. His chapped, cracked lips were drawn into a thin scowl. The beard that was normally so well-trimmed and neat was now scraggly, looking as though it had been cut with a pair of dull scissors.
As he walked over to greet me, Lord Gray frowned and wiped his face with his hands, apparently in an effort to drive away his exhaustion. Judging by his physical condition and the obvious exhaustion of his horses, they had all been riding without a break for a long time.
“Monsieur,” he nodded in reply as he pointed toward his companions. My people were helping one of them off his horse, since he was completely unconscious:
“My squire is badly wounded. I’ll be very grateful for any help you can provide him. You must have healers, after all?”
“Bring him to the field hospital,” I quickly commanded, watching as the scarlet elixir spread throughout the wounded soldier’s body and started doing its thing. “And let them know I’ll be handling this case personally.”
I glanced at Lord Gray, who had been watching my actions with a faint look of sheepishness in his eyes the entire time, and switched to the language of the Foggy Isles:
“Your man here is lucky. Two more days, and it would have been too late.”
Lord Gray’s eyebrows rose; apparently, however, he preferred not to comment on my newfound skill set.
The other stryker from Lord Gray’s group was standing near us as well. His sigh of relief made me turn my attention to him. He raised his pale face up toward the leaden sky and closed his eyes, which revealed that tears of joy had welled up in them. A smile spread across the stryker’s cracked, dry lips.
Only at that point did I realize that this stryker was a woman. She was tall and broad-shouldered, with sharp facial features and close-cropped red hair. Judging by her appearance, she was probably one of the strykers who had joined Lord Gray’s service all the way back in the Foggy Isles. Both she and the wounded man were mediuses.
“You rest for the time being. You’ll be fed and provided with hot water and clean clothes. Your horses and baggage will be seen to.”
With that, I exchanged bows with the grateful mages, then turned and headed back toward the hospital.
During my brief scan, I noticed that Lord Gray and his warriors each had two or three half-full lilac bruts left in their armor. Basically, enough energy to throw up a magical shield, and maybe launch a few attacks. I was interested to find out what had happened to them. Perhaps more importantly — what had happened to the rest of the army?
* * *
A few hours later, Lord Gray and I were sitting in my tent over glasses of brandy. I remembered from our journey to the north that brandy was his drink of choice.
The stryker took a small sip of the deep, amber liquid and closed his eyes, savoring the bliss of the moment. Then he stretched his legs out to bring them closer to the campaign stove, which I had designed and ordered from a Herouxville foundry.
“Oh, Gods!” He exclaimed as he settled more comfortably into his soft armchair. “How I’ve missed such things... One thing for which I respect you greatly, Monsieur — among many others, of course — is the fact that you never neglect life’s comforts, even while you’re at war.”
“They certainly don’t have to be mutually exclusive,” I shrugged.
Our chairs were separated by a small table, with a bottle of Gray’s beloved beverage and a plate of snacks atop it.
While I took care of their wounded comrade, Lord Gray and Cecilia Black (the female stryker who had arrived with him) ate a quick bite and then got a few hours’ sleep. Most people would have needed far more time, but these two were strykers. Even that short period of rest left them looking refreshed.
Cecilia, by the way, was a distant cousin of the wounded mage — who I managed to heal, as promised. Although I should also point out that, judging by the passionate kisses Cecilia showered the other stryker with as soon as he recovered consciousness, the two seemed to be a little bit closer with one another than fourth- and fifth-cousins normally are.
Using the by-now-familiar trick with the brown bruts, I managed to slacken my parasite’s vigilance, pull some scarlet mana from another brut, and put it to work immediately. The soldier’s wounds were deep, but thanks to my intervention and the combat mage’s impressive physique, they started to heal rapidly.
Lord Gray chuckled; then, with an impressed shake of his head, he added:
“I’ll be honest with you — I’m still a little bit amazed. You came to Bresmont with a small unit of mercenaries, and now you’re at the head of an entire army. Not only that — you’ve actually done more with that army in a few months than the entire royal army managed to achieve in two years.”
“And yet I still haven’t achieved my goal,” I replied. “Instead of being able to carry out His Majesty’s orders and establish order in my new holdings, I’ve been forced to take care of someone else’s job.”
Lord Gray turned to look at me with surprise on his face; realizing I wasn’t joking, he shook his head again.
I could tell that he was trying to choose his words carefully before getting to the heart of the matter. So I decided to make things easier for him:
“Will you stay with us?” I asked the question directly.
A shadow fell over the stryker’s face.
“No,” he replied firmly. “I must return to the capital and tell the King about everything that’s happened. And warn His Majesty of the danger that threatens him.”
“Most of the noblemen who arrived with the Marquis de Gondy don’t believe His Majesty will survive to the end of the month,” I replied, watching carefully to see how Lord Gray would react. “In other words, you’d only make it back in time for his funeral.”
Externally, the stryker remained calm, but I saw him take a big portion of mana from several of his bruts. Despite his complicated relationship to the King, the man was apparently genuine in his devotion to Carl III.
Before Lord Gray could get carried away by his emotions, I picked the bottle up from the table between us. I poured some brandy into his glass, then into my own; with a smile, I continued:
“Loudmouths, of course — nothing more. After all, our King isn’t isn’t known as “the Victorious” for nothing! I have no doubt that he’ll surprise these fools... I drain my glass to His Majesty’s health!”
I stood up and drained my glass in a few big gulps. For just a second, a still-surprised Lord Gray just stared up at me, but then he stood up and followed suit.
When we sat back down again, I asked:
“What do you want to warn His Majesty about?”
“It’ll be hard to believe.” Lord Gray’s face darkened again. “Actually, there’s a serious risk that the King will think me a liar.”
“Well, I’m not the King, thank the gods,” I shrugged. “So I’m willing to listen with an open mind.”
At that, Lord Gray turned to stare at me firmly for a moment. Then, apparently having decided something in his mind, he began to speak. It took him about an hour to recount everything that had happened to Marshal de Clairmont and his army.
I already knew almost everything he told me, other than a few minor details. And of course, the details of the most recent battle, which saw an Atalian force under the command of Prince Adrian and the Duke di Spinola take on the remnants of de Clairmont’s forces, were all totally new to me.
Admittedly, calling it a “battle” might have been a bit too generous. It was a beating. Weakened by hunger and illness, the Vestonians could do nothing to resist the Atalians. The first attack by the Atalian knights completely shattered Vestonian morale, and the men quickly broke and ran. They tried to surrender, but found no quarter. Apparently, Prince Adrian decided that no prisoners were to be taken.
Strangely, despite all that, Marshal de Clairmont was still alive. True, according to Lord Gray he was barely conscious anymore by that point, and looked more like a corpse than a living man.
Imagine my surprise when I heard that the Duke was clinging to life only thanks to my modified elixir. I had given eighteen bottles of the stuff as a gift to the Count de Leval, who in turn was stubbornly rationing them out to his friend and lord in an effort to keep the wounded Duke alive.
At the end of his recounting, Lord Gray told me how the Count de Leval had received a written order to return to the capital and present the King with a detailed report of everything that had happened — a report the Marshal himself had signed in one of the rare moments when he managed to “surface” from his normal state of deep, blissful unconsciousness.
The stryker told me that he had managed to break through only thanks to the self-sacrifice and heroism of his squires and companions. All of them had fallen in order to buy their commander time — all of them, that is, besides the two strykers he had arrived with.
It wasn’t hard to guess who, specifically, had managed to thin out Lord Gray’s entourage in so vicious a manner. It was a special unit of knights from three different military orders.
When Lord Gray finally finished, he turned to look at me. There was a challenge in his eyes. He was mentally prepared for me to question the truth of his words.
“Well,” I began as I rubbed my chin. “To be honest, besides the last battle with the Atalian Prince, I already knew about more or less everything you’ve just told me.”
Lord Gray looked bewildered.
“How?”
“It’s quite simple,” I said as I stood up from my chair and walked over to my desk. “You’re not the only people the Frozen Spears have been trying to take out. True, they didn’t achieve anything in this other attempt.”
With that, I turned to glance at Lord Gray with a smirk and a wink.
At my desk, I opened a small case and took out two fat scrolls. I walked back to my armchair, plopped myself down, and handed both scrolls to Lord Gray, who had been watching me the whole time with a wary look on his face.
“What’s this?” He asked with a frown as he examined the plump scrolls in his hands.
“The smaller one is confirmation of everything you’ve just told me,” I said calmly as I poured us a little more brandy. “It’s a detailed record of an interrogation I conducted on the two Frozen Spears who managed to survive their attack on me. The document bears my signature, as well as that of my squire, who is himself a nobleman and a combat mage.”
It didn’t contain any mention of the Hrimthurs or any aurings, of course. But I didn’t say that part out loud.
“Where are they?” Lord Gray suddenly looked excited; I could see a spark of hope in his eyes.
“Dead,” I replied laconically.
Lord Gray’s excitement turned to a frown again, but then he nodded in understanding. A moment later, he turned his attention to the second scroll, which was slightly thicker than the first. Without waiting for him to ask, I explained:
“And this is a detailed explanation of everything that’s happened since the moment my men and I crossed the Bergonian border. As you’ve already noticed, the scrolls aren’t sealed. You can familiarize yourself with their contents.”
“But what makes you trust me like this?”
“First of all, you’re devoted to His Majesty, as am I. Something, by the way, that isn’t exactly the most popular trait these days. Second, there’s nothing secret in them anyway. And third, because I’d like it to be you, personally, who delivers these documents to His Majesty. I’ll be honest — I’ve got copies of my own that I’ll give His Majesty later on anyway.”
“So you haven’t sent anything to the King up to this point? And nobody in the capital knows about the Stone Knights and their betrayal?”
“I think they know in general, but they don’t know the details,” I replied. “The thing is, I made an announcement at our council of war immediately after completing my interrogations, and a representative of the Amber Guild was present for all of it. I’m sure she sent a report by messenger bird almost immediately.”
“But why did you do that?” Lord Gray sounded surprised.
“If you’re worried about the grand master of the Amber Guild warning the Stone Knights’ grand master, you need not trouble yourself. At the time I did so, I had already been informed of the recent quarrel between the grand master Gilbert de Ambrelle of the Amber Guild and Frederic de Moati, grand master of the Order of the Gray Rock. Even before that, the country just wasn’t big enough for the both of them; at this point, things have grown so heated that they’re ready to tear each other’s throats out. I think the King is already aware of the betrayal.”
I had no intention of telling him that on a personal level, the head of the Stone Knights didn’t actually know anything about Fria’s plans himself. The soulcatcher had told me that Frederic de Moati was utterly loyal to the King, which is why Fria decided to find a replacement.
At least in my opinion, though, the fact that the grand master of the Stone Knights happened to be personally loyal to the King didn’t really matter. He was my enemy, just as he was the enemy of everyone else who was fighting on my side.
“And if the fact that I decided not to keep the Stone Knights’ betrayal confidential is causing you any concern...” I shrugged. “Well, I have a different opinion on that matter than many others. These rabid religious fanatics spend their time burning innocent people alive in public squares and concocting plots against our King, while the common people of this country march out and fight valiantly in the field under His Majesty’s banner.”
I turned to stare firmly into Lord Gray’s eyes.
“People must be made to see these so-called holy warriors for what they really are. Besides that, they simply shouldn’t have gotten in my way. I fully intend to exterminate anyone who tries to harm me or my people.”
I uttered my last sentence with perfect calm; judging by Lord Gray’s tense expression, however, he seemed to have understood me perfectly well nonetheless.
“Oh, yes...”
I slapped myself lightly on the forehead with the tips of my fingers, then stood up and headed back to my desk. There, I opened another small case and took out six medium-sized lilac bruts. Then I went back to my chair and handed them to Lord Gray.
“Monsieur... This is an entire fortune!” He exclaimed as he gently moved my hand aside. Despite his refusal, I could see hope burning brightly in his eyes.
For good reason, I might add! After all, a supply like this would virtually guarantee a safe arrival in the capital.
“My friend — I insist,” I said, slightly softer this time. “This isn’t just for you, after all: this is to help our shared enterprise along. You and your people will need to reach Herouxville and warn the King as quickly as possible. In fact, besides these crystals, I’m also going to give each of you two of my fastest chargers. As well as sufficient provisions for the journey. I also couldn’t help noticing that your armor came in for quite a beating. Please, stop by one of my wagons later on. We amassed quite a collection after our battles with the fanatics. Take whatever you need for the journey.”
The stryker’s gaze was as firm as ever, but now I could see a look of profound gratitude in his eyes. His view of me had changed in a fundamental way. After accepting the crystals and tucking them behind his belt, he grasped my hand in a firm handshake.
“Thank you, my friend,” he said, putting special emphasis on the word “friend.” “You’re a man of honor. His Majesty will hear about all of this, I assure you!”
I replied with a grateful bow of the head, then gestured for him to sit down again.
“Now,” I continued. “Before you leave us, I’d very much like for you to tell me everything you can about Prince Adrian and his army.”
Lord Gray spent the following hour telling me in detail about the force we would soon be facing in battle. First of all, I was happy to hear that the flower of Northern Atalia’s nobility would be coming out to face us. That meant 3,000 cavalrymen.
When Lord Gray and the Count de Leval had first seen the banners of Prince Adrian and the Duke di Spinola (as well as those of almost all their vassals), they wondered why such a massive army had been assembled against them. After our men told Lord Gray about the defeat of the Duke di Spinola’s son, however, everything fell into place. The new army had come to avenge the death of the Marquis di Spinola and the other noblemen who had been under his command.
Besides the 3,000 cavalry, the Northern Atalian contingent included 500 Atalian crossbowmen and 1,500 mercenaries from the free principalities. Add to that another legion from the Atalian regular army, and it turned out that our two armies would be more or less equal in numerical terms.
After Lord Gray left, I spent a long time poring over the map, thinking about how to proceed. Slowly, the disjointed thoughts floating through my mind dovetailed together into a basic plan. Once I had the general picture worked out in my mind, I summoned Gunnar in to see me.
As soon as his blond mane appeared through the tent flaps, I gave him an order:
“Find Leo and tell him to get everyone assembled for an urgent council of war.”
“I assume they’ll be joining you for dinner, then?” He asked.
“Probably breakfast as well,” I confirmed. “We’ve got a lot of work to do tonight...”