The Arcanist (28 page)

“The shrine we have been building in the yard in accord with our alliance.”

“Alliance? What alliance?”

Things were suddenly becoming stranger still and for a bit Edouard wondered if the weeks of hunger and sickness had robbed him of his wits. He had made no alliance with the temple. Nor could he. Alliances were between houses and realms. There could be no alliance between him and the handmaidens. Least of all one he couldn't remember.

“The House of Barris and the Temple of Tyrel have forged an alliance this past week. As part of it every property in every realm that is a part of the House of Barris has a shrine being built upon its land.”

The blood unexpectedly drained from Edouard's face and he felt weak at the knees. What she was telling him was madness, and yet he had no doubt it was true. Kyriel didn't seem to be the sort of person to lie, especially about such an important matter. And it made sense in a strange way.

Other houses had forged alliances with other faiths over the years. There were often advantages to the arrangements for both sides. And with Simon now openly having claimed the throne of Theria by coup the House of Barris was in a weakened position. Every crime he committed would be laid at their feet. His father would have seen the chance of an alliance as a lifeline. But he could have jumped too quickly. The House of Barris could weather storms. They could distance themselves from Simon. They would take a blow but it didn't necessarily have to be a fatal one. And any relationship with a temple was usually a relationship fraught with difficulties. The House was eternally associated with the faith which meant that in people's minds the two became one and the same. If the faith had enemies they became the enemies of the House. If the faith had edicts the House had to follow them.

The House of Fenwick had made an alliance with the Temple of Terrisan, a faith that claimed an ancient lineage to the first god-king of Farring Cross. They had believed it would allow them access to the markets of the realm. And it had. But even now, a hundred and fifty years after the alliance had been signed, every member of the House of Fenwick had to make an annual pilgrimage to the ruins of the ancient city and pledge their sword to his cause. And if the realm had gone to war they would have been forced to stand with them. They were just fortunate that the realm survived on trade and couldn't afford a war.

Edouard had to wonder what the price of their alliance would be, and somehow he doubted it would end with a simple shrine in his yard. But of course it would begin before that. It would begin right now. And end, at least for him, in a day at the most. But there was nothing he could do about that as he realised his choices had been taken from him.

“So it seems I must stand. If you will not abandon the shrine then I cannot leave you to stand here and die alone. So we will somehow have to defend it until we die.” He hated saying that. He hated the thought that he was likely about to die shortly for a cause he didn't believe in. And that others were going to die with him. But if the handmaidens would not abandon the shrine then he could not abandon them. His choice had been made for him.

“My friends,” he turned to the other escapees, bitterly upset that he would not be going with them. “I would suggest that you make haste to eat, bathe and leave this place.” Though he doubted that any of them were up to a long ride, at least they weren't bound to his fate. Destined to die here shortly.

“Ladies since we're staying we will have to start making this fort as secure as we can.” He didn't want to. It was madness. And it was bitterly unfair that having escaped one hell he should have to die in battle so soon. But his hand had been forced. “Who here can fire a musket?”

Kyriel raised her hand, but among the four handmaidens she was the only one. It wasn't enough. Even if the others could shoot, and most raised their hands, he had only six of the muskets and as many pistols. But if they had any sense the others would be leaving shortly and it would just be him and the handmaidens.

“Then you're going to have to learn fast.”

His hope was that the first assault would be a small one and that if they could fend it off they could gain themselves enough time to prepare for a second one. But even that was going to be a gamble. And if they beat off the second assault there would be a third and a fourth and so on. Simon had no end of soldiers he could send after them.

They needed a weapon. An army or magic beyond the commonplace. They needed something at least, and they didn't have it.

He wasn't a flame. None of the others were flames either. They were all just sparks, and the chances that they could withstand an assault from Simon's army even if they all stood together were slim. Less than slim, when one of those sparks was an apothecary and two more were barely able to summon even a fraction of their magic at the moment. The only thing they had in their favour was a fort with solid walls, and a few hand weapons. Which reminded him of one other matter.

“Before that though our first task will be to set out some cannon.”

That was going to be a lot of work and he wasn't sure that they'd provide much protection. They were old and dusty, and not the more modern wheeled variety either. They sat on heavy wooden mounts, were difficult to load and had little lateral movement. Worse they hadn't been fired in centuries and he had no idea if they would even work any longer. If rust and time hadn't robbed them of their power. They might just blow up the first time they were fired. They were also heavy and he wasn't sure that they'd have time to hoist many into position before Simon's soldiers arrived. But any cannon were better than none he figured. The others stared at him, waiting.

“Cannon?”

“In the basement, behind the armoury. A full dozen and two ballista as well, if they haven't rotted completely away.”

It was entirely possible considering that the fort had been abandoned two hundred years before. Though it was well constructed and the underground stores and tunnels were dry, two hundred years was a long time. And he hadn't examined them very closely. Not since he had moved in.

“My Lord you are just full of surprises!” Kyriel said it as though she were less than pleased.

He wasn't sure why. It was almost as though she imagined he'd deliberately kept the knowledge from her. He hadn't. He'd just not thought about it at all since he hadn't planned on staying. He still didn't like the idea. But if his father had made the deal she claimed and the Mother was determined to keep the shrine open, it wasn't as if he had any say in the matter. A lot of questions but no say.

“Breakwater Holding is an old fort. When the Breakwater Patrol finally abandoned it they took the new and serviceable arms, but left most of the older stuff behind. The cannon aren't wheeled, and there were few wagons that could have carried that sort of weight. Each cannon is at least six hundred pounds even without its mounting.”

And that weight was going to be the next problem they had to face. Six hundred pounds of cast iron would need to be carried up two flights of stairs just to reach the ground, and then six more flights to reach the gun emplacements. And with only a dozen of them to lift them into place – if that. In time he could arrange a pulley system, but it was always going to be a question of how much time they had.

“Gun powder?”

Two barrels, maybe thirty pounds each. We'll need a lot more.”

“We can get it. Shot?”

What did she mean that they could get it he wondered? Surely not before the soldiers came riding up the hill. And afterwards would be too late. Edouard shook his head a little in disbelief but didn't bother questioning her.

“Plenty. They left the shot behind with the cannon. Both balls and grape shot.”

“A dozen cannon with an overlapping field of fire. A tower with several people armed with your heavy muskets and plenty of ammunition. More on the ramparts. Some reasonably solid walls and a steel gate. We can mount a respectable defence with that if we need to.”

Once again Kyriel showed her knowledge of all things military and Edouard was impressed. But he was still worried when she added the last. As if there was even a chance that Simon wouldn't instantly guess where he was and send a troop against them! Or an army. It was holding on to foolish hopes as far as he was concerned. Of course that was obviously what she was counting on. That the soldiers wouldn't come. But they would, and they'd need to mount a defence before they arrived. A damned good one.

“If? There is no 'if' in this my Lady. They'll come. They'll surely be here within a matter of hours.”

“I'm sure they will come. But whether they will reach us is another matter entirely my Lord.”

She stared straight at him, her face giving nothing away, and he suspected she wouldn't explain herself even if he asked. He suspected it had something to do with her faith. Clerics and handmaidens were often cryptic about matters relating to their faith. Something to do with secret mysteries that outsiders shouldn't know about. On the other hand all the soldiers had to do was come through the village and then up the path beyond to find them. It wasn't exactly a difficult journey, and the old fort was out in the open for all to see.

“But honoured guests Lord Edouard is right. There is little time. And while I am reasonably sure that my sisters and I can defend this fort against attack, nothing is certain. We will have to shut the gate within the hour and if you wish to leave you should be gone by then.”

She and her sisters could defend the fort? That struck Edouard as a strange thing to say. Strangely arrogant, even for one of the Tennari. She might be trained in military ways, but they needed more than just a few people who could shoot and she had to know that.

“My Lady we are tired and hungry. Most of us are weak and several still bear the injuries from the whips and beatings. We do not want to ride if we do not have to. But Lord Edouard is right. Unless you have some stratagem or weapon that we do not know of, to stay will be to die. Do you have such a thing?”

Sir Reginald asked the obvious question, and Edouard was suddenly reminded of the way he had been the first to swim through the grate. Was it bravery or cowardice that had motivated him then? Fear of being left behind to be caught, or the courage to show the others that it had been safe? He didn't know. Not then and not now. What he did know was that it was an important question.

“Yes.” Kyriel surprised him by actually answering a question directly for once and he wondered why. She never had with him.

“We will ask the Mother for a ward of misdirection to be placed upon the ground. Since we can communicate with her through the shrine we are building, it will not be difficult and she will want to protect her shrine. We have done the same elsewhere and never once has one of our shrines been destroyed by enemies.”

Was that possible, Edouard wondered? He wasn't familiar with either the magic of the mind or the magic of the handmaidens. And he didn't want to remind her that the shrine in Theria hadn't been protected from the mammoths. But it sounded like a powerful casting she was speaking of. It also sounded like something that might take time. Then again, it sounded like something to bring hope.

“Then I will stand by your side as the battle approaches.”

Sir Reginald managed a small bow and Edouard suddenly remembered that he was often called the consort of the court. Many a woman had fallen to his charms so the gossips claimed and the bards sang of his prowess in the bed chamber. Seeing him in action, even covered in dirt and wearing rags, he had to suspect that it was true. And that maybe he was set to try and charm the handmaidens as well. In which case the Seven would need to help him if he hurt one of Tyrel's handmaidens. No one else would. Still, there were things to do before worrying about such things and Edouard decided he had to take charge.

“Right then good people. Those who stay will have to start with me on the cannon. We have no time to waste. If we can get two standing in the corner emplacements of the front wall before lunch that will be an invaluable start. Honoured handmaidens if you could devote your attention to the ward it would be best. And Gwen if you and the other women could turn your attention to maintaining a watch from the tower and laying out the guns as we need them. We will also need hot food if we can get some.”

It was probably rude speaking to the others like that and giving them orders. They were his guests after all, but Edouard knew it had to be done. If they were to survive then they would have to be ready.