'The General's papers, sir.'
'I don't have any papers, Ensign.'
'Begging your pardon, General, sir, but Chancellor Orkid Gravespear says you do.' With that the ensign held them out. Dejanus, automatically flushing with the mention of Orkid's name, took them with little grace.
'Is there anything else the general wants, sir?'
'Hoping to get back to bed, Ensign?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Well, sit down. You can wait until I've gone through each and every one of these papers. Before you do, though, see what's holding up my breakfast and get me a proper lantern.'
Dejanus turned over the first paper. It had something to do with supplies, but he was not sure if it was supplies that had arrived or supplies still to come or supplies awaiting distribution. Under items were listed shoes, belts, pots. Then there were three other columns, and he had no idea what they represented. The second paper was an invoice from a local farmer, but Dejanus could not tell if it had been paid or not. The third paper was a series of squares linked by lines, and each square had the name of a Lurisian infantry unit in it. What was this supposed to represent? He scrabbled through the papers for something useful, for something he could understand and act on. One of the last papers had his name on the top, and the names of other officers underneath, one or two of which he recognised. These were the commanders of the units in his army. Probably cocky long-servers all of them, thinking they were going to have it all over him because he had been 'head door-opener' in the palace. Well, he would show them, he would show them all.
The ensign and old man returned, the latter carrying a large tray with bacon and eggs and ham and another cup of mulled wine.
'I'll just go and get the young officer some,' he said as he scurried away.
'You'll do no such thing!' Dejanus roared after him, and then to the ensign: 'You can wait until bloody morning when everyone else gets fed.'
'Sir,' the ensign said dejectedly.
Dejanus put the papers aside. He would put them all on the spike at the shit hole when he got to the army camp. He wondered if generals got their own shit hole.
He turned to the food and wolfed it down. The voyage had made him hungry. Must have been all that sea air. And jittery. He could not sit still.
'So much to do,' he mumbled around a mouthful of lam.
'Sorry, sir?'
Dejanus glared at the ensign. 'I was talking over my breakfast. But since you asked… how far to the camp?'
'About an hour's ride, General. I've got two horses ready for us.'
'Good. Get packed. Now. We leave as soon as I finish here.'
The ensign sighed resignedly and left to pack.
'I'll show you all,' Dejanus said to his back.
The ensign pretended not to hear.
CHAPTER 31
It was an excited scout, riding hard and raising a small cloud of dust, that told Lynan his army was approaching. He could not help tensing. He had dreaded this day since sending a message to Daavis for Korigan to bring the Chetts south to Sparro, and asking her to let Ager and Gudon know that Jenrosa had died fighting Silona. He would soon have to face his friends and prove to them not only that he was free at last from Silona's influence, but also Lynan Rosetheme again in every sense, and ready to lead his army to victory against Queen Areava.
Duty
, he reminded himself.
Sometimes it is due to individuals, and not just groups
.
The scout rode up to Lynan and Tomar. 'The Chert army is an hour behind me,' he said, his eyes wide with wonder. Then, almost as an afterthought, he added: 'A small group rides ahead of them.'
'That will be your friends,' Tomar said.
'Would you mind if I went ahead and met them by myself?'
'I understand. I will wait for you here with the… ah… official delegation.'
Lynan smiled. The official delegation consisted of
Tomar, Barys Malayka and a nervous mayor of Sparro decked out in his official robes and chains.
'I won't be long,' Lynan said, and spurred his horse. A short while later he saw three people dressed in Chett ponchos and wearing the wide-brimmed Chett hat coming in his direction. He reined in and waited. Although he no longer had the excellent vision he possessed while Silona was alive, he could tell well enough by the way they rode that it was Korigan, Ager and Gudon. The Chett queen was the best rider he knew—it was like watching some creature that was half-human, half-horse. Gudon rode with the slight sway he learned as a barge pilot on the Barda River, and Ager rode as if he was designed for walking, although with his crookback he was not actually designed for either.
Lynan tried to calm his beating heart, tried not to shout out in joy at seeing them again. He watched them slow from a trot to a walk, and they approached him slowly, almost cautiously. Ager was the first to reach him, then Gudon, and finally Korigan. He could see the uncertainty in their faces, the vestige of fear. He drew in a deep shuddering breath.
'It's me,' he said.
Ager reached out and touched his face. 'Your skin has changed. It's almost normal.'
Lynan did not hide his surprise. 'I have not seen myself in a mirror. But look.' He held out his right hand, still blistered and raw from grasping the red hot sword from the fire.
'What happened?' Ager asked.
'Silona died,' he said simply. He had no other explanation.
Korigan manoeuvred her horse so she was sitting right beside him. She took Lynan's head in her hands and forced him to meet her gaze. He did not flinch from her. 'Your eyes are brown,' she said in wonder. 'Like a Chett's. I was never able to tell before.'
Gudon looked on, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. 'Truth, little master, I knew you never really left us.'
Lynan felt his eyes sting. 'Truth, Gudon, I did for a while.'
'But you came back,' Ager said, and Lynan could see tears stinging his eyes, too.
'Because of Jenrosa,' he said, the words tumbling out.
Ager and Gudon swallowed hard then.
'News of her death sent your army into grieving,' Korigan said carefully. The other three knew the two women had not been friends. 'Especially Lasthear and the other magikers. They cannot believe they have lost their Truespeaker so soon and in this way.'
'I don't think she ever accepted she was a Truespeaker,' Lynan said. 'She just wanted to be Jenrosa Alvear.' He blinked away his own tears. 'Whoever that was to be.'
'If she lived,' Korigan said, 'I think she would have accepted her fate.' She smiled unexpectedly. 'As you know we did not get on; that is always the way between a monarch and a Truespeaker.'
'Truth,' Gudon said.
Korigan gently touched Lynan's hand. 'I am sorry for the pain her death must be causing you, and so soon after the death of Kumul Alarn. At least they will be together now in whatever peace death may bring.'
Lynan nodded his thanks for her words. 'When the war is finally over, we will have time to grieve properly for both of them, as well as all our friends and supporters who sacrificed their lives for my cause.' He glanced at all three of his companions and felt a surge of great love for them. 'Until then, let us use our grief to drive our anger and fury against the enemy.'
'Tell me, my lord,' Barys said to Tomar, 'what do you think of having several thousand Chetts on your doorstep?'
'I think, my champion, that I prefer it to having several thousand Kendrans, Amanites, Lurisians and Storians on my doorstep.'
They spoke in a low voice so the mayor could not hear them. The mayor was a nice enough fellow, likeable and hard working in his office, but the kind of man who thought everyone should always get on, even in time of war. He was sitting on a placid, bow-backed hack, and looked as uncomfortable as it was possible to be done up in mayoral finery and with nothing witty to say in the company of a king and his champion.
'You still have those, I'm afraid,' Barys continued. 'The Great Army will not leave now you have declared war on its queen.'
'I have done no such thing.'
'Semantics, my lord.'
'Politics, my champion. And never forget that Lynan may have won his victories with his army, but he won his army—and won over the entire Chett nation—with his mother's knack for diplomacy. In the end, when all the fighting and dying are done, it is politics that will determine the shape of the future, and Lynan has proven to me he understands that.'
'Do you think you can win this war?'
'I believe Lynan can. I do not pretend to understand the changes that seem to have overtaken him, but they do his campaign no harm. You've spent time with him the last few days. What do you think?'
'I think he is like his father in some ways.'
'He has a softer tongue.'
'He has the same hard head, which bodes well for all of us. Sometimes, when I look at him, I think he is the General reincarnated, but then he'll say something or do something that reminds me Lynan is his own man.' He glanced quickly at Tomar. 'Ultimately, however, the only thing I am not sure about is this army of his.'
'They've done well so far,' Tomar pointed out.
'They lost to the first Grenda Lear army they met.'
Tomar shrugged. 'Not much of a loss, really. The Chett army remained largely intact while the Grenda Lear army was reduced to not much more than the rump of its former strength, and then within two seasons the Chett army recovers well enough to capture Haxus—something never achieved by a Grenda Lear army, I might point out—and then Hume.'
'Some would say they have captured Chandra as well.'
'Some would be wrong then, although I have no doubt Chandra would have fallen to Lynan had I had not joined with him.'
'I'm curious, my lord. When
did
you make up your mind to join him?'
'I think a part of me must have decided as soon as I read his letter. A great wrong was done in Kendra when Berayma was murdered, and if it isn't revenged, the heart of the Kingdom will rot away.'
'I did not think you cared so much for Grenda Lear.'
'I am not foolish enough to believe that little Chandra can survive by itself in this age of giants. If—
when—
Lynan wins his throne, it is only a matter of time before Theare holds only one Kingdom. I'd rather be a part of that than opposed to it.'
'Well, then,' Barys said, pointing up the road where Lynan and his three companions had just appeared, 'here comes the future.'
The king smiled at the mayor and waved him forward. 'How are you feeling, Lord Mayor?'
The mayor smiled nervously. 'F-F-Fine, thank you, your Majesty.'
Tomar patted his shoulder. 'You'll be alright. Just remember not to insult the Chetts accidentally; they hold a grudge better than any other people on the continent.'
The mayor stared wide-eyed at Tomar.
'Cruelly done,' Barys said under his breath.
'Just want to keep him on his toes.'
'He won't sleep for a week now, afraid some barbarian assassin is after him.'
Tomar cleared his throat and said to the mayor: 'It is very difficult to insult a Chett, by the way.'
'W-w-wonderful,' the mayor said, unconvinced.
Sparro's docks were almost empty. All the ships belonging to the great merchant fleets from Lurisia and Kendra had fled to their home ports when Chandra changed sides in the civil war. Tomar's soldiers had been able to seize eight before the others made their escape, but that had only been a small proportion of the traffic in the harbour at the time. There were still ships belonging to Chandran merchants tied up at the docks, as well as increasing numbers of ships from Haxus, but in a way they made the vacant berths even more obvious.
'Did you ever go to sea during your time in the east?' Korigan asked Gudon. They were walking along the harbour's edge, a little behind Lynan and Ager. It was late afternoon, and the sun made the water ripple with flames. Korigan had never seen anything quite like the sea, and for the first time in her life felt the pull of something as grand and limitless as the Oceans of Grass.
Gudon shook his head. 'Never tempted, I must admit. It took me a long time to get used to being a barge pilot on the Barda, what with all that water underneath me. On an ocean-going ship it would be infinitely worse.'
'I believe Ager spent a good part of his life working on merchant ships.'
'Yes.'
'I wonder if he misses it.'
'I wonder, cousin, why you are talking about the sea instead of Lynan.'
Korigan laughed bitterly. 'Because I am afraid of what you and I might discover between us.' She glanced at Gudon, almost shyly. 'Do you know he did not come to our bed last night? Tomar gave us a sumptious room. I waited for him. I wanted to tell him how glad I was to be with him again. I fell asleep eventually.'
'How much do you love him?'
Korigan's gaze dropped to her feet. 'I don't know. What can I compare it to?'
'You've had lovers before.'
'Yes, and never loved them. I don't know if it is possible to love someone more than I love Lynan.'
'And?'
'But I think it is possible for Lynan to love me more than he does.'
'Ah.'
'In a way I am glad he did not come to bed last night. I am afraid to be alone with him again.'
'But he is no longer under the influence of Silona.'
'I have only known him with the vampire's blood flowing through his veins. Will I know him now?'
'Truth, cousin, you already know him. The Lynan I knew before Jenrosa gave him Silona's blood was the same man afterwards. Until his last great fever, he only changed in battle. If he loved you then, he still loves you now.'
'Perhaps.' She stopped, looked north out over the ocean and tried to imagine what lay beyond the horizon. She had heard of the Far Kingdom, a legendary place on the other side of the Sea Between, a land peopled with strange and monstrous beings. Was it possible to travel so far you could leave behind all your fears and doubts? And what would life be like without those fears and doubts? Was there someone at this very moment in the Far Kingdom looking south and wondering the very same thing?