Master of Hawks (10 page)

While Coleman S'Wessex lowered Roslyn to the bed, his aide showed Hawk to an overstuffed armchair. Then Coleman took one of a number of small identical brown bottles from the top of his dresser and made Ro drink the liquid. When he finished he handed one to Hawk.

"Drink this, it's
tomaad."

Hawk gratefully accepted the stimulant, wondering how S'Wessex had obtained the Sylvan tonic- It was a sticky, saplike substance with a pleasant nut flavor- It immediately soothed his burning throat and lungs and eased his labored breathing.

Siclari began to treat Hawk's burns, while Coleman S'Wessex tended Roslyn. With almost parental concern, S'Wessex bathed Ro's face as she continued to murmur in delirium.

"The tapestries are burning . . . I've got to get out." She coughed and then rasped, "Matthew, don't you recognize me? . . . I'm Ro, Roger . . . Roger S'Cascar. . . . " She screamed incoherent words and then whispered, "They're crazy . . . crazy. . . . "

"What does she mean?" asked Hawk. S'Cascar would be the name of the ruling family of the Kingdom of Cascar.

Coleman S'Wessex didn't answer.

The woman's face grew quieter. "Don't come any closer," she whispered. "I'm Roger. . . " Then she lapsed into silence, slowly moving her lips in fevered sleep.

"What is she saying?" Hawk repeated, trying to understand the crazy sense of the words- "Her name is Roslyn, yet she's saying Roger S'Cascar. Aren't all the S'Cascars dead?" His voice drifted off as he remembered the stories he'd heard about the holocaust that had turned Castle Cascar into a pile of rubble.

Almost twelve years before, Lord Taral had attacked the kingdoms of Cascar, Cumberland, and Westvirn in a single night of terror. He'd destroyed the three protecting Triad spellstones and then sent devastating spells at the undefended castles- First had come madness, causing the people inside the castles to fight one another. Friend killed friend, brother fought against brother. Then in rapid succession Taral sent fires and earthquakes to totally obliterate the Triad and the families who had erected it. It was said that the only ones to escape had been a few lucky guards who'd fought each other so enthusiastically that their battle carried them outside the castle gates, where the spells were too weak to hold them.

"Siclari, you'd better get back outside and see if we are still needed," Coleman S'Wessex said to his aide.

As Hank Siclari closed the door, S'Wessex studied Hawk's face intently, as though measuring his trustworthiness. Then he said, "No, they're not all dead. Ro escaped. She's the daughter of Lord William S'Cascar and is the last of her family."

Coleman sank down upon the edge of the bed and stared at Ro. Suddenly he felt much older than sixty. His son had been killed last year, and when Ro returned from Greton she'd quickly become like a daughter to him. She was probably one of his closest relatives now—so many had died. The ruling families of neighboring Wessex and Cascar had often intermarried, so they were cousins many times over. His father's sister was her grandmother; his grandfather, her great-grandfather- Coleman's thoughts drifted and mused on the genealogy; it had been one of his hobbies in the days before the war.

Hawk interrupted his thoughts. "But Roger is a man's name."

"When Lord William learned that his wife was pregnant, he took her to the N'Omb Shrine at Elmera to have the N'Omb priests bless the unborn child, as in the old custom. It used to be the common practice,
but the Church isn't as influential as it once was. For a long time after N'Omb's destruction the Church was
all powerful, controlling everyone's life and destiny."

Coleman sighed. "But I guess it has been thousands of years since N'Omb's punishment, and the people have
forgotten. Some no longer even believe in N'Omb. But William S'Cascar was a devout man. So he had his unborn child blessed, and he also asked the oracle at Elmera for a prophecy. The N'Omb oracle predicted that the child would become a great warrior and kill an enemy threatening Cascar. William assumed that the baby would be a boy. So he and his wife decided to name their child Roger. They had the N'Omb priest baptize the unborn child then and there for luck—another old custom. When the child turned out to be a girl, they were stuck with the name. Of course, everyone soon called her Rog or Ro."

"I still don't understand. How did she escape the destruction of the Triad and Cascar? I thought all the S'Cascars were killed. She must have been just a child then."

Coleman rubbed his chin thoughtfully, thinking about what Ro had told him about Hawk and adding his impressions of the man to hers. He decided to tell him the whole story.

"I believe you know that Ro has some telepathic abilities?"

Hawk nodded.

"She's got other abilities as well. Her mother was Genevieve Rowen, Lord William S'Cascar's second wife; she was one of the last direct descendants of that once-great family, most of whom were killed during the Great War with S'Shegan a century ago. The Rowens were known as great sorcerers, but actually they had very little ability to control magic. Their main power lay in their immunity to the magic of others. Roger inherited that immunity."

"Then she wouldn't have been affected by Taral's spells the night he broke the Triad?" Hawk asked.

"That's right. She must have awakened just as Taral destroyed the Triad spellstones. According to the story she told me, she ran out of her room, and her bodyguard, probably that Matthew she keeps mumbling about, attacked her under the force of the spell. She was only thirteen then, but she had been trained like her half-brothers, and she was forced to defend herself." Coleman watched as Ro tossed in a troubled sleep, still reliving the nightmare.

"She ran through the castle while her friends and family fought each other, through the flaming hallways to the outside, protected from the spells and led to safety by the strange instinctive ability she possesses. It must have been the most terrifying experience of her life. I'm not sure exactly what happened, but she got a horse from somewhere, and, riding bareback, headed to Wessex. Of course, we hadn't been attacked yet.

"She was icy calm when she reached me a few days later, in deep shock I suppose, and managed to tell a fairly coherent account of the attack. I knew that Wessex would certainly be Taral's next target, so while I made preparations for defense, I sent the child to a distant cousin in Greton, where I knew she would be safe."

He pounded his fist into his hand. "Of course, I thought then that it would be for only a year or so."

Hawk struggled to understand. "But now that she's back, why is she using the name Roslyn? If people knew that a S'Cascar were alive it would be good for their morale, especially in Cascar itself."

"You must have heard of the purges in the conquered kingdoms. Everyone of royal blood was killed. Certainly if Taral realized that a S'Cascar were still alive he'd want her killed, for the very reasons you mentioned. My own son was killed by an assassin's
knife, and there have been several attempts on my life. That's why it's important that you don't tell anyone of Ro's true identity."

Hawk nodded. "Of course not, sir."

Then Hank Siclari returned.

"The fight's over," he said. "Everything but the mopping up. Almost all of Ramsey's men were killed; a few were captured, a few escaped—including Ramsey, I heard."

"Since Ramsey wasn't at the head of the column as we expected, he wasn't surprised by the initial attack
.
Without catching him off guard, we didn't have too much chance to kill him—he's too powerful a sorcerer," Hawk noted.

"Lord S'Mayler has called a meeting in his rooms for all his captains," continued Siclari. He touched Coleman's shoulder gently. "I'll take care of her, Lord S'Wessex; you'd better go."

"I should come too," Hawk said reluctantly. "Derek will probably want me to send my eagles out tracking Ramsey's men. I hope their telepath was killed during the fighting. . . . "

Coleman S'Wessex leaned forward to brush a lock of ash-stained hair from Ro's troubled face- Then he stood. "If she wakes, give her some more of the
tomaad."

"I know what to do," Siclari replied.

"Come on, sir," said Hawk.

The exiled lord of Wessex moved slowly, feeling the full weight of age and battle fatigue. They stopped at the bathroom down the hall to wash the worst of the soot and blood from their faces and hands. Then they went to Derek's suite.

The room was empty except for Stephen. The portly innkeeper's head was bandaged with blood-soaked linen, but he seemed to have lost none of his cheerfulness.

"Come on in, gentlemen, I'm just setting out a few bottles of wine and whiskey for you. Everything's still so confused around here, but I thought you could all use a drink. I had one or two myself . . . it sure helped this bump on my head. Yes it did! I don't feel the pain much now.
"

Hawk smiled. He and Coleman sat down at the large oval table in the center of the room- One by one the leaders of the different groups making up Derek S'Mayler's forces drifted in and took their places at the table.

Randy, a redheaded bear of a man who led a contingent of renegades from Cumberland and the other conquered kingdoms south of Cascar, had lost an arm. He lumbered in, fortified by one of Chen Chu's pain-killing potions. Chu followed him impatiently. As an observer for the enchanters of the White Tower of N'Omb, he felt he should attend Derek S'Mayler's strategy session. But he was eager to return to his patients downstairs.

Then John S'Aderon limped into the room. A spear had grazed his leg. He represented his brother Kevin, lord of the Kingdom of Aderon, which bordered York to the north. Although Aderon would be greatly affected by the outcome of York's battle, Kevin had sent only a handful of men to the fight. It was suspected that he'd already signed a pact with Taral but was hedging his bet in case York got lucky.

Finally, a somber Derek S'Mayler entered with Vadim Strelkov. Dressed in the simple green-and
-
gray uniform of the regular York army, Strelkov was
one of Brian S'York's lieutenants. He commanded the few troops left in northern York, as well as the area's farmers and townspeople.

While Strelkov settled into a chair, Derek S'Mayler walked over to the window and stared out into the downpour that now covered the ruins of the town in a haze of gray. The rain pounded the ground and put out the last of the fires.

"Well, things have gone very well, haven't they?" said John S'Aderon. "We sure beat them."

Derek's eyes focused on the drops splashing against the windowpane. "Have we?" he said softly. Then he turned and unexpectedly slammed his fist against the oak tabletop.

S'Aderon's self-satisfied smile jerked into a grimace. The other men jumped at the sound, except for Randy, who was so drugged that he only leaned back in his chair and looked wide-eyed at S'Mayler.

"It's raining," Derek continued. "Don't you realize what that means?

"Douglas S'Stratford and the sorcerers with him must have broken S'Elgyn's and S'Decatur's control of the hurricane they used to block S'Stratford's ships. The storm must have drifted eastward- That means that S'Stratford's ships can get through; in fact, they've probably already landed at Swego."

As the men began to realize the implications of the rain, Coleman S'Wessex spoke. His deep, commanding voice was strained by the despair of too many defeats. "We knew that would happen sooner or later—it just happened to be sooner."

Derek pressed his fingers together tensely and then smiled confidently. He knew he must not let his own uncertainty disturb his men. As he spoke they began to relax, reassured by his words and tone. He told the truth, but not all of it.

"That's right. So it just means that we'll have to step up our plans. We did win a victory today, as John pointed out. A far better one than we'd even hoped for, thanks to the fool who led those troops all the way into our trap. We've killed most of their men without losing very many of our own. Furthermore, I've just received word from York that while we delayed the Imperial troops in the north, our forces have been able to stop Taral's main army at Twin Lakes. If we can continue to prevent the two armies from joining in an attack on Castle York, we've got a good chance of winning."

Strelkov smiled, buoyed by the effect of Derek's charismatic personality. "My men are ready for the next phase of your plan."

"Good," Derek replied. "Everyone is to get plenty of rest tonight and tomorrow. Then you will all move out along the Tompkins Road and head south to the Kellerton area as we discussed. Chu, you'll transport the wounded to York as soon as possible. I'll be setting up a few interesting spells here when I leave—booby traps, you might call them—for any unwary Empire soldiers who might travel through here."

Derek S'Mayler's plan was simple. He knew he didn't have enough men to beat S'Stratford in an all-out battle, so he would use guerrilla warfare and send small groups of men against the Empire soldiers to delay and harass them, giving the regular York army a chance to beat back the invading troops in the south. He hoped Suzanne S'Elgyn and Patrick S'Decatur had been able to sink at least a few of S'Stratford's ships. However, he feared that his two friends had died in the attempt, since several members of the Council Of Seven were aboard the ships.

As the men began to review their plans for the coming days, Stephen reappeared with some bread and cold chicken. Derek felt too tired to eat, but he forced himself to take a piece, and later when he looked down at the pile of cleaned bones, he found that he had devoured at least two birds.