A Shout for the Dead (13 page)

'Ah, my embellisher in chief,' he said. 'I am surprised you aren't walling in the whole of Sirrane, such is the magnitude of the threat before us.'

The Sirranean frowned and gestured for explanation. Roberto had to remind himself he was a diplomat, not a legion general any more.

'Simply put, Hadadz, the army I can see through my magnifier does not present a threat to the Conquord.'

Hadadz's frown deepened further. The deep coloured skin on his face darkened further with irritation.

'You make a mistake that will soon be too long forged to reverse with any hope of success,' he said. 'You must look further than your eyes see.'

Roberto passed a hand over his face and dragged it hard across the growth of stubble on his chin.

'You're going to have to do better than that,' said Roberto. 'Marcus Gesteris is rushing to Estorr to warn of imminent invasion. I am supposed to be warning Gosland that they are about to be attacked. When they see this lot come over the last hills before the border, they will laugh me out of the country. Do you understand?'

Hadadz nodded after a pause and a smile crossed his face, lighting up his eyes.

'Your mind's clarity will be viewed as obscured,' he said. 'Something like that,' said Roberto.

The smile faded. 'There is more driving this enemy than numbers. More than songs speaking victory and dominion.'

Roberto stared at him. 'Hadadz, they do not have Ascendants and they do not have secret weapons. There are six thousand at best and they will not get across Gorneon's Bridge before they are routed. If you know something different, please, share it with me. Our alliance is new. It would be a shame if it was to be wounded so soon.'

'At their backs is fear of a power their comprehension fails in discerning. Tarenaq said it. And you make a second mistake, Lord Del Aglios. They do have an Ascendant.'

'How do—?' Roberto stopped. 'I'm sorry, you're telling me they have developed Ascendants in ten years? Impossible.'

'No,' said Hadadz. 'Yours that ran has found his home.'

Roberto felt the strength desert him. 'Gorian.' He shook his head.

'Little bastard, I should have cut his throat when I had the chance.' He looked at Hadadz. 'But even so, even if you're right, he's just one man. An arrow will take him. We will find him in the field and kill him. Is he with them now?'

'No. He is distant yet he dominates them.'

'All right, all right. Look, while I think on this, show me what it is you think I should be seeing.'

Hadadz shrugged. 'It is in every face. It bleeds from their souls. They march hard to distance themselves from their masters yet his hand can reach them anywhere. And they do not relish whatever task has been set for their accomplishment.'

While not as poetic as the diplomat, Tarenaq, Hadadz was certainly as verbose. Roberto put his magnifier to his eye again and studied a few faces. He saw nothing immediately out of the ordinary. Unease, anxiety perhaps but
...

'No, no,' he said. 'That doesn't make sense.'

'My Lord?' it was the guard captain.

'They're over a hundred miles from the Gosland border,' said Roberto. 'And they're scared. I mean I'd expect it when they closed with their enemy but now? Half of them have the look of people being marched to their own executions. Their eyes are everywhere and they are silent, aren't they?'

Roberto looked again. At the head of the march, the commander had stopped, the column following his order. In his eyes there was no fear, only anticipation. He was a tall man, massively built. And what Roberto had taken for a skull cap was nothing of the sort. His face and shaven head were covered completely with tattoos; circular and stud patterns, geometric shapes too.

'Haven't seen his like before,' he said.

'No,' said Hadadz. 'He is from Khuran, from the temples of the damned, where the King's enemies are destroyed.'

'He's an ugly bastard, I'll give him that. So what's he doing at the head of an army marching to Gosland?'

'He brings his trade to the hinterland,' said Hadadz.

'And is it him that the rest of them are scared of?'

'It is what he represents.'

'And what's that, exactly?'

'The shroud that falls upon us all. The net from which none may ultimately escape. Death.'

Roberto laughed. 'I'm sorry, Hadadz but this is like some poor melodrama. I have the utmost respect for the ways and beliefs of the Sirranean peoples but when steel clashes with steel, it is courage, skill and numbers that win the day. They may have none, my legions do. It will be us who bring death if the Tsardon march into battle like that.'

Hadadz didn't appear to be offended. He studied Roberto for a moment while he fought for the right words.

'In the far south, the Karku barricade the mountains though no overwhelming force stands at their gates. And Sirrane shudders though we cannot fathom why. I understand the paths to our truths elude you but they would not elude your Ascendants. They would see. They would feel.'

'I cannot light the invasion beacons on the basis of a feeling,' said Roberto.

But within, Hadadz's persistence was getting to him.

'Then accept there is danger and prepare. Do not cover the sky in flame but never slip your vigilance. We have watched the Tsardon across the centuries. Their respect of time is undimmed, a commodity they do not fritter away. Something is happening and this army holds the key to the floodgates.'

'What?' snapped Roberto. 'It's all just talk and speculation, most of it barely makes sense.'

'Our knowledge is incomplete. This is a warning.'

'And we thank you for bringing it to our attention. I do not mean to be dismissive but you have to see the problem from my perspective.'

'I understand.' Hadadz bowed.
'You should continue to the Gos
lander border.'

Roberto nodded. 'The honour of your company is bettered only by the promise of more to come.'

Hadadz smiled again. 'My arm and heart are yours.'

'Well, at least we've learned one thing about each other's ways.'

'That road has no conclusion.'

'End, Hadadz. We'd say, "has no end".'

'As you wish.'

Roberto turned back to the Tsardon army. His first sight of them had left him confused and he felt no different now. What he had was a sense of unease that would not go away. Out there was a force any sane man would all but ignore as a serious attempt at in
vasion. But
Hadadz was right, the Tsardon were not in the habit of wasting time and men on anything. And Roberto had learned enough that if the Sirraneans thought it worrying, then he should do the same.

Convincing the Marshal Defender of Gosland though, that would be something else entirely

.

Chapter Ten

859th cycle of God, 10th day of
Genasrise

Cornmonsense had prevailed in the end. That and a few sharp words from Jhered and the Advocate once the boiling emotions had begun to subside. Mirron and fifty Ascendancy guard under Harkov's command would travel with Jhered and two hundred levium to Kark via Gestern to assess any threat and try to gain intelligence on Gorian's whereabouts. Ossacer and Arducius would remain on the Hill to school the new Ascendants who, if Harban was right, would be required in the field rather sooner than anticipated.

'Bit of a role reversal, isn't it?' Arducius tried to sound bright but the joke fell flat.

'Not really,' said Mirron.

She still couldn't quite get to grips with what she was doing or what had happened to her. That Kessian was gone remained almost unreal but for the emptiness in her rooms and the roar of loss that overwhelmed her on an instant. His little sailing boat was drifting in the fountain. She had promised herself that only he would pick it up and move it now she had placed it there.

'You sure you'll be all right?' asked Ossacer.

'I think I'll be safer with Paul than you are around here. Don't think I haven't heard about your plans to go into the city and upset the Order.'

'Well, the Advocate was right; we haven't been to the heart of the Conquord to win them over. Looks like we're getting our chance now,' said Arducius.

'Be careful. The Chancellor won't be far away if she isn't here already. It's not good out there. Harkov says the protests are growing again now news is out that Gorian is still alive.' There was a knock on the door. A spearman opened it and the

Advocate swept in with Jhered in her wake. She approached down the hall and came to stand by the fountain. Her eyes lingered on the model boat for a moment.

'I'm not happy you're going on this fool's chase,' she said.
‘I
understand your desire to rescue your son but I think the Exchequer is capable of doing it on his own.'

‘I
can't stay here, Herine,' said Mirron.
‘I
can't pace the floor waiting for news. It will kill me.'

'Do not place yourself at risk. This isn't going to be a time for diplomacy, do you understand?'

'Yes, she does,' said Jhered at the Advocate's shoulder. He was looking harassed. 'Now please, say what you came to say.'

The Advocate looked round at him sharply and hissed a few words Mirron didn't quite catch. She had composed herself by the time she looked back at the Ascendants. Jhered was tight-lipped and angry.

'The Order have their demon,' she said. 'It seems much of my staff couldn't wait to spread the story to all that would hear. The mood in the city is ugly concerning you, and Felice will bask in it when she inevitably arrives. So while you two do what you can to shore up my belief in you with our dear citizens, I want you to bear this in mind. Mirron, I want no ifs and no buts. There is no redemption. The future of the Ascendancy hangs on one thing, so far as I am concerned and so I am giving you this order. Gorian is to be caught and he is to be killed, that much has not changed. But when he is, I want his body brought back here because I am going to parade it around the city as a demonstration of my authority. Then I will burn it.'

Mirron made to speak but the Advocate held up a hand.

'No ifs, no buts. I do not care about personal feelings and who used to love who or who is whose father. He is an enemy of the Conquord and he will be hung out for every citizen to see. The people want proof and I will give it to them or you lot can all pack your bags. Do I make myself clear? Good, now get going. My Exchequer assures me the tide is about to turn.'

The Advocate turned on her heel and swept out.

'Short and sweet,' muttered Arducius.

'It is often the way,' said Jhered. 'Come on, Mirron, the carriage is at the gates.'

'Why are you so shocked, anyway?' asked Ossacer. 'It is no more than he deserves.'

'He is still one of us,' she said. 'Even though he must die, we shouldn't disrespect where he came from and what he used to mean to us.'

'Wrong,' said Ossacer. 'He was never really one of us and I for one would love to have the eyes to see him swinging in his gibbet.' Mirron started. 'You don't mean that.' 'Don't I?'

'You're a bastard sometimes, Ossacer,' she said.

'No, Mirron, I'm a realist. I think you should be too.'

'Much though I hate to break up these loving goodbyes.' Jhered glared at Ossacer. 'The carriage
is
waiting, Mirron Westfallen. We have to go.'

Mirron nodded, confused by her anger. 'Fine. Let's get it done.'

'Good luck, Mirron,' said Ossacer.

'Right,' said Mirron.

'Look after yourself,' said Arducius.

'You too, Ardu. We'll send word.'

'Mirron!' called Jhered from the door to her rooms.

'Who are you, my father?'

'No, but I am the man who'll throw you into the harbour if we miss the tide. Come on.'

She raised her eyebrows and closed the door on her brothers, her fountain and Kessian's sailing boat. Tears threatened.

'Stay afloat,' she whispered.

There were no obvious signs of panic on the river and road journey back to Wystrial, for the most part at any rate. The news of the outbreak had spread halfway to Skiona but those a long way from the port were simply happy to be where they were and reports were that the quarantine had been very effective.

But in the last thirty miles or so, Fleet Corvanov began to feel uneasy. She saw plainly abandoned farmsteads, empty of livestock and human life. The traffic, hardly heavy at the best of trading times, was non-existent, and the last messenger station had passed on rumours and stories that made no sense whatever.

They had warned her not to go near the port, that the station just beyond the gates was abandoned and its staff gone but she could not ignore her Marshal's orders. She had asked others to come with her but they had refused and the fear in their voices and faces was confusing and worrying.