The Bastard King (20 page)

"What is it?" Lanius said in shock. Then his mind made one of its swift leaps. "Oh, by the gods," he whispered. "Count Corvus has finally fought the Thervings, hasn't he?"

Jerkily, Lepturus nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty, he did. A little the other side of the Tuola, it was - he got sick of waiting for Dagipert to come to him, and went out after the Thervings instead. The first fugitives just got back here with word of what happened. The short answer is, Corvus picked the wrong time to get bold."

"The first fugitives?" Lanius didn't like the sound of that.

Lepturus gave him another jerky nod. "Dagipert met him on a meadow with a glade of trees off to one side. Corvus, like I said, was feeling bold. He sent his men - our men - charging ahead, and the Thervings gave ground before him."

Three sentences were plenty to give Lanius the bad feeling that he knew what was coming next. Hoping against hope, he asked, "Did Count Corvus send scouts into that - glade, you called it?"

This time, the commander of the royal bodyguards shook his head. "We were advancing. Why did he need to worry about anything like that? I'm guessing what went through his mind, understand. I don't know for sure."

"Nobody knows for sure whether
anything
went through his mind," Queen Certhia said bitterly.

"Nobody - nobody here, anyhow - knows for sure whether he's alive or dead," Lepturus went on. "He pushed on, happy as - "

"Happy as any man pushing it in," Certhia interrupted again. "Just that happy, and just that stupid."

Lanius looked at the floor, at the walls, at the ceiling - anywhere but at his mother. He hadn't thought she knew what he'd been doing with the serving girls. But she was unlikely to have chosen that particular comparison by accident. Next to this news, though, even that was small. "And there were Thervings in amongst those trees?"

"Oh, yes. Oh, by the gods, yes," Lepturus answered. "They stayed hidden there till our battle line had pushed past'em, then they all came swarming out, and they rolled us up like a pair of socks. The soldiers who've gotten here are the ones who ran first and fastest, so things may not be quite as bad as they say, but they're pretty gods-cursed bad - no two ways about it."

"What do we do?" Lanius asked. "What can we do?"

"I see two things," the guards commander told him. "Number one is, we ready the city here to stand siege, on account of it'll draw Dagipert the way candied apricots draw ants. And number two is, we bring up all the river galleys we can to help hold him back and help defend this place."

Queen Certhia looked as though she'd bitten into an unripe persimmon. Lanius needed only a moment to realize why. "That means calling on Commodore Grus for help," he said. Lepturus nodded. Certhia's face puckered up even more. Lanius said, "Mother,
you've
got to write that order."

"Me?" his mother burst out. "If Grus hadn't left Corax and the Heruls behind - "

"Who knows what would have happened?" Lanius broke in. "Corvus might have walked into an ambush anyhow - he seems rash enough. But we need Grus now, and he knows you're angry at him. That means you need to be the one who softens him up."

Certhia shook her head. Lepturus said, "He's right, Your Royal Highness."

"Are you betraying me, too?" Lanius' mother demanded.

"No one's betraying you, Mother," Lanius said. "We're trying to help the kingdom. Grus will do whatever you order. He seems a clever man, and he's done a lot of good for Avornis. Don't let
your
pride get in the way."

"Oh, gods help me! I'll write the letter," Certhia said. But before Lanius could get too happy about that, she added, "Anything - anything at all - to keep from being lectured by my own son." Lanius started to get indignant about that. Then Lepturus couldn't quite smother a chuckle. Lanius deflated in a hurry.

Some Thervings were watering their horses at the bank of the Asopus, not far from the city of Avornis, when Commodore Grus spotted them. "Let's make them pay!" he shouted to the men aboard the
Crocodile.
"Oarmaster, up the stroke! Marines, stand to starboard with your bows!"

The drumbeat picked up. The river galley glided along the Asopus toward the invaders. The Thervings hadn't even bothered posting sentries. After smashing Count Corvus' army to bloody rags, they'd pushed east all the way to the walls of the capital, and no one had come forth to challenge them. Why should they have worried?

"I'll show them why," Grus muttered.

He'd gotten almost within arrow range when King Dagipert's men noticed the
Crocodile.
Even then, the Thervings kept right on tending to their animals. A couple of them shook fists at the river galley, but that was all. The
Crocodile,
after all, was in the Asopus, and they were on the riverbank. What could the ship do to them? She might look like a centipede, with her oars rhythmically rising and falling, but she couldn't run after them on land.

"Ready!" the marines' lieutenant shouted, and the men drew their bows back to the ear. He raised his hand and let it fall. "Shoot!"

The volley tore into the Thervings and their horses. The big blond men shouted and shrieked. The animals screamed. The Avornan marines reached into their quivers for more arrows and shot again. The second volley wasn't quite as smooth as the first had been, but more Thervings fell. A few of Dagipert's men started shooting back, while others either mounted horses or led them back out of range. That took a while, and the Avornans punished them till they escaped.

"Well, that was fun," Nicator remarked. Two marines had taken arrows - one in the shoulder, the other in the hand. Neither wound looked serious, and they were the only hurts aboard the
Crocodile.
Eight or ten Thervings sprawled and writhed by the riverbank - some dead, others injured. Several horses were down, too.

"So it was," Grus said. "One more fleabite for Avornis. They got careless, and we nipped'em."

"They won't bring their horses to the Asopus again anytime soon, or to any other stream with enough water in it to float a river galley," Nicator said.

"No, so they won't," Grus agreed. "But they don't have to, either. They can still besiege the capital."

"What are
we
doing here?" Nicator grumbled. "Shooting up a few fools is fine, but we should be doing more."

"Well, if we had some soldiers aboard, we could put them and our marines ashore where they might do the Thervings some harm," Grus said.

"Oh, happy day." Nicator spat. "Just like Corax and his gods-cursed Heruls, you mean."

That made Grus spit, too. "Gods curse Corax, and gods curse Corvus, too. Between the two of them, they've done Avornis more harm than Dagipert ever dreamt of. Corvus threw away all the soldiers we might be carrying."

"I hear he made it back to the city of Avornis," Nicator said.

"Why am I not surprised?" Grus said. "You can't kill fleas, however much you want to. Or maybe Dagipert told his men to let the bastard go on purpose, figuring he might want to beat him again someday."

"Wouldn't surprise me a bit," Nicator said. "Dagipert is smart, and Corvus - "

"Thinks he is," Grus broke in.

"Right," Nicator said.

"Until we raise more men down in the south, I don't know what we can do except pray the walls hold," Grus said. "They should. They really should." He hoped he wasn't just trying to convince himself. He also hoped the Menteshe wouldn't swarm north over the Stura with Avornis so busy here by the capital. And he kicked at the deck of the
Crocodile,
for he could do so very little to make either hope come true.

Lanius wore an iron helmet shaped like a pot, a plain linen surcoat over an equally plain shirt of mail, and baggy wool trousers that itched. If he'd had a beard, he would have looked like a soldier on the walls of the capital. Since he didn't, he looked like one of the youths who brought the men food and arrows and whatever else they might need.

What he didn't look like was the King of Avornis. The Thervings weren't likely to shoot at one nondescript youngster on the walls. Lanius enjoyed the disguise. He also liked the taste of freedom it gave him. Count Corvus and Lepturus, who accompanied him, hid their rank the same way. He wondered if they enjoyed it, too.

Thervings out beyond the ditch in front of the wall did shoot arrows at the defenders. More Thervings threw bundles of sticks and brush into the ditch, trying to work their way close enough to the wall to set scaling ladders against it. The Avornans concentrated their arrows on those men, and also shot fire arrows at the fascines. Lanius thought the curved trails of smoke from the fire arrows were fascinating.

Then one of the bundles caught. Dagipert's men poured water on it, but it kept burning. The fire quickly spread to other fascines thrown into that part of the ditch. Cheering, the Avornans pincushioned the Thervings who were trying to put out the blaze.

Count Corvus said, "We ought to sally against them, Your Majesty, while they're in this pickle."

"I don't think so," Lepturus answered. "We're not trying to beat them. We're only trying to make them give up and go away." He had good sense. Protecting the king and the capital was usually more important than commanding in the field. Comparing Lepturus' performance and Corvus', Lanius regretted that.

"That is a coward's way to fight," Corvus declared.

"You had your chance in command, Your Excellency," Lanius said coolly. "You had it, and look what you did with it. Lepturus leads in the city of Avornis."

"I was stabbed in the back." Corvus reddened with anger. "That baseborn turd Grus betrayed me. He betrayed my brother. He betrayed the whole kingdom. Do you blame me for what he did?"

"No, I blame you for what you did. Grus didn't command against King Dagipert," Lanius said; as always, illogic oppressed him. "Had Grus commanded, he might not have fallen into Dagipert's ambush.
You
fell into it."

Corvus' hands folded into fists. "Nobody talks to me that way," he said.

In a voice like ice, Lepturus said, "You're speaking to the King of Avornis. You had better remember it if you ever want to see your estates again. He's earned the right to be angry at you, considering how much you threw away."

"I was stabbed in the back," Count Corvus repeated.

"By your own stupidity, maybe - no one else's," Lepturus said.

"Enough," Lanius said. "If we fight among ourselves, who wins? King Dagipert."
Not that he hasn't won already,
he thought. But he added, "And who laughs? The Banished One."

Lepturus bowed. "That's so, Your Majesty, every word of it. You've got good sense."

Lanius thought he had tolerably good sense, too.
And what has it gotten me?
he wondered.
I could be a drooling idiot, and I'd still wear the Avornan crown. More than a few people might like it better if I
were
a drooling idiot. Then they wouldn't have to worry about what I thought, because I wouldn't think anything at all.

"The Banished One laughed when Grus betrayed Corax," Corvus said furiously. Neither Lanius nor Lepturus said a word. They both just looked at him for a long time. Lanius wasn't sure what his own expression seemed like. He was sure he wouldn't have wanted anyone with Lepturus' scowl glaring at him. And Corvus, most reluctantly, yielded. "All right," he muttered. "Let it go."

A stone-thrower hurled a rock as big as a man's head - Lanius glanced at Corvus to make the comparison - out toward the Thervings. They had no weapons to match the catapult. But it did less good than it might have. It skipped - as a smaller, flatter stone might have skipped on water - and landed harmlessly, well beyond the clump of men at whom it was aimed.

The soldiers serving the siege engine cursed furiously. "They've got a wizard out there working for them," one of the men said. "By the gods, why haven't we got wizards here to put their bastard down?"

"That's a good question," Lanius said. "Why haven't we, Lepturus?"

"Because somebody's gone and botched things, that's why," the commander of his bodyguards answered. Wizardry was a rare talent; reliable wizardy even rarer. Still, a sorcerer should have been on the wall. Corvus brayed laughter. "Oh, shut up," Lepturus told him, "or we'll shoot that boulder on top of your neck at the Thervings next." Lanius snickered. He couldn't help himself. He wasn't the only one who'd had that thought, then.

Scowling, Corvus stalked away. If he could have raised fur on his back like an offended cat, he would have done it. Lanius sighed. "I suppose we shouldn't bait him."

"Why not?" Lepturus said. "He shouldn't just be baited - he should be bait. You could catch plenty of fish with bits of him on the hook."

"Heh," Lanius said, though he didn't think the guards commander was joking.

The Thervings held their ring around the city of Avornis. Out beyond that ring, they did as they pleased. Pillars of smoke marked the funeral pyres of farmhouses, villages, towns. Lanius began to wonder if any of the northwestern part of the kingdom would remain unravaged by the time Dagipert finally decided to go home for the harvest.

Instead of going home, the King of Thervingia launched a furious, full-scale assault on the capital three days later. His wizards did their best to hide his preparations, and then, when the attack was launched, they hurled fireballs and lightning bolts and sudden storms of rain at the Avornans on the walls.

More than a few of the first messengers who brought word of the attack back to the palace sounded panicky. Like most people inside the city, Lanius had thought Dagipert would know he couldn't take it, and so wouldn't try very hard. To find out he was wrong alarmed him, as it always did. Might he also have been wrong about the city's invulnerability?

He couldn't ask Lepturus. The guards commander was on the walls himself, seeing to the defense. Lanius tried to go out there, but palace servants stopped him. "Sorry, Your Majesty," said a steward who sounded not sorry in the least. "Your mother has forbidden you to go to the fighting."

Lanius fumed and pouted. Later, he realized he might have done better to bribe the man. That might have worked. His show of temper didn't. He had to stay and wait and wonder if the next soldiers he saw rushing toward the palace would be Avornans or ax-wielding Thervings.