The Invisible Chains - Part 3: Bonds of Blood (36 page)

“
Tenax, Tenax, what do you want me to do?”

“All right,” the commander said, straightening his attire. “The army will march.”

“Commander,” he heard Anaxantis say, “you're staying in the castle until we're ready to depart. General Ternengu, I want you and your Second Regiment on the road within the hour. You, my lord general of Iramid will depart an hour after that. You will be taking separate routes. General Lethoras Demaxos will explain the details to you.”

“
He's carving up my army.”

“You commander, will march with the rest of your army between my own soldiers and the Amirathan units in front of you and the Landemere Contingent divisions behind you.”

“
The coward's position. He's giving me the coward's position. As if we were just unreliable allies, likely to
desert.”
Tarngord fumed silently.

Anaxantis seemed to have heard his thoughts and drove a last nail in his coffin.

“My first general order for this war. Deserters will be killed in the act, or hanged after capture. Do we understand each other, commander?” he said, giving the old man a furious look.

Tarngord looked straight ahead.

“That was why you always said the secret charter didn't matter?” Hemarchidas asked when they were back in the war room and it was just the two of them. “A mere... technicality?”

Anaxantis smiled.

“No, Hemarchidas, it isn't just a mere technicality. When you are attacked in the streets and the high king passes by, he may choose not to come to your aid. However, he can't order you not to defend yourself. It would go against all ingrained human instinct. It would be against nature itself. That is in essence what the Amirathan militia is: the people of the province defending themselves.”

“Yes, I suppose that's true.”

“Yes, it is. Why do you think I insisted on the old Amirathan title of warlord? Why do you think I wanted both the Amirathan nobility and the people to acclaim me as such. Out of vainglory?”

“The thought had occurred to me.” The Cheridonian laughed.

Anaxantis joined in the laughter.

“Well, maybe, but I also knew it would make me independent of Tarngord. And father. He may have made me lord governor—”

“But you made yourself warlord.”

“Hm. I'd like to think the people had a say in that. Besides, what was the commander going to do? He has barely four thousand men under his command. I have more than double that number. Almost all of them have seen me at least twice, a lot of them have spoken with me. They don't know Tarngord. You know, I've often stood on the castle walls and wondered what Tarngord saw from his position when he looked red whe lngoaround. I think he saw his army swelling day by day. I, on the other hand, from up the walls, saw his army being surrounded by troops out of his command.”

“And, of course, the fact that Arranulf made you warlord of Landemere didn't hurt either,” Hemarchidas said.

“Yes. That was rather... unexpected.”

Anaxantis smiled at his friend.

“Wasn't he magnificent, though?” he asked mischievously.

“Don't you start with me.”

“Really, Obyann, I did something that almost impressed you? I never would have thought I'd see the day,”

Arranulf said.

Obyann snorted.

“Get over yourself already, Landemere. But I must admit it took some guts to stand up to the old man,” he grumbled reluctantly. “Anyway, we've got other piglets to wash, as we say in Ramaldah.”

They were walking to their barrack.

“I know,” Arranulf sighed. “You realize there's over eighty of them now? Eighty-eight, to be precise. Maybe we should divide them up in patrols of about twenty. Each patrol consisting of four, five barracks.”

“We should have done that a long time ago,” Obyann said. “Well, no time like the present.”

“As they say in Ramaldah, I guess.”

“As they say
everywhere
, Landemere. Don't you know anything?”

“Damn, if we're dividing them up in patrols we also have to appoint patrol leaders.”

“Tarnwood is an obvious choice. He already has kind of a following. And Keyld perhaps,” Obyann said.

“Ambrick? If you're picking Ambrick, I pick Lorcko.”

“Iramid? His highness has dispatched him as baby sitter to our Mukthars.”

“Our Mukthars, Obyann?”

“Yes, Landemere, our Mukthars. As opposed to not our Mukthars. The ones that, like our instructor explained, will cut our hamstrings—”

“Our Achilles tendons—”

“Same difference, Landemere. The end result is us lying down on the ground, unable to stand up, and getting killed.”

“Since Lorcko is kind of an ambassador to our Mukthars, I think we should give him the rank. Especially if we're going to promote that slug Keyld.”

“Have it your way. And Emling maybe?”

“Robrant? Yes, why not?”

By the time they came at their barrack they had figured out a complete list.

“I'll bring the little weirdos up to speed that we're leaving,” Obyann said.

Without knocking he entered their room.

Ryhunzo was lying on the bed, naked. His eyes were closed. On his nipples he had smeared generous amounts of whey cheese. A trail of bite sized cold cuts led down his chest, over his belly to his groin. His erect dick stuck through a hole in a small meat pie.

“Come and eat your breakfast, De1em" akfa thvourer of my Fleshly Rigidness,” he said seductively, without opening his eyes. “May I especially recommend the meat pie? You'll find it both tasty and creamy.”

“Have you gone completely stark raving mad, you lecherous, perverted, deviant, depraved little degenerate,”

Obyann exploded. “Don't you realize, we're at war? What the fuck?”

Ryhunzo opened his eyes without moving a limb.

“Oh, it's you,” he said, slightly disappointed but otherwise unperturbed. “I was going for ‘What the suck,’

actually.”

Rahendo, who had come home entered the room and shoved Obyann aside.

“Pookie, you look delicious,” he said, swooning.

“It's war, war, I say,” Obyann shouted in total frustration.

Rahendo started to undress.

“Sorry, Obie, but with you in the bed last night we didn't have the opportunity to express our undying love for each other. Would you mind leaving? I'm feeling a bit peckish.”

“It was my bed,” Obyann hollered indignantly. “My bed. The bed that is mine.”

They both ignored him.

“Landemere. Landemere, come here. Come here this instant, and sort this out,” Obyann yelled.

Rullio, recently of Brenx-Aldemon, knew there was something wrong the moment he set foot out of the door and saw a robust young man and twenty soldiers, all wearing the colors of the prince, come to him.

“Are you Rullio of Brenx, my lord?” Bortram asked.

“Yes,” Rullio replied, remembering that the king had forbidden him to use his brand new title in the Northern Marches.

Cariam who was following him looked worriedly at him.

“These guys don't bring good news, I'm afraid, Rullio,” he whispered.

“My Lord,” Bortram said without further ado, “you are under arrest by order of the lord governor.”

“What am I accused of?”

“Accused of? Nothing. You're taken into preventive custody. Let's say, for your own safety. You will be treated well.”

Rullio couldn't prevent himself from letting out a sigh of relief.

“Can I have visitors?” he asked, looking sideways at Cariam.

“'Fraid not, my lord,” Bortram replied. “Don't fret. Ana— the lord governor has said it's only for the time he's away from Lorseth.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“To a nice room in the guest house in the castle. There's still some Mukthars there for the moment, but soon enough you'll have the place to yourself. You're not to leave your room, let alone the house. Six soldiers of the prince's personal guard will be around to see to your safety at all times. Day in day out.”

“How reassuring.” Rullio smiled at his most charming.

“
But not really,”
he thought. “
What if he doesn't return? It's frustrating. Finally I will be inside that blasted
place and it won't do me any good.”

About an hour and a quarter later a similar scene occurreout ane o Gorth was brought to the other side of the encampment, where the Clan had its barracks in an enclosure. He was assigned one and told not to leave it under any circumstance. Six of the clansmen would remain behind to keep him company, day and night.

They had ridden at the trot so as not to tire the horses too much. This had permitted them to keep going for almost twelve hours. Then they had rested for six hours, and early in the morning they had resumed their journey.

Lee-Lack Scarminckle permitted his little band to rest only after they had crossed the river Mirax again at the most southern point of Rymydall Forest.

His men knew he liked to sit by his own, so they kept their distance. Only his younger brother dared approach him.

He liked Norri-Nack. For his barely eighteen years he was wise. At least wise enough to know his place. Not like that useless waste of space that their father was. Only last month he had ordered him to mend some clothes while he was away on a raid. On his return it transpired the old guy had forgotten all about it, and he even had the gall to complain that he had been busy. Of course Lee-Lack had smacked him across the face several times and ordered him to start his job immediately. His mother had clucked disapprovingly at her husband for his negligence. She said she remembered clearly Lee-Lack giving him the order, and that he hadn't been that busy.

Lee-Lack didn't particularly enjoy punishing the old man, but discipline must be maintained, and after all, he was the head of the family. His word was law.

Norri-Nack stopped at a respectful distance. Lee-Lack indicated with a few summary gestures that he could approach and sit down.

“You're still worried,” Norri-Nack ventured.

Lee-Lack kept looking before him. Then something moved him to confide in his younger brother.

“These horse thieves are a serious threat to our business, Norri-Nack. We're selling protection. Up until now that meant protection from us. We can't have other groups robbing our clients at random. It's a fine balance.

For the merchant houses it is cheaper to pay us a modest sum than to provide in an armed force to guard their caravans. But if we can't guarantee their safety the whole system could collapse.”

“We don't know who did this.”

It was a statement, not a question.

“No. For dozens of years nobody dared encroach upon our terrain. Everybody in the border region knows that we take terrible revenge upon anybody who dares attack caravans. There's only one conclusion possible.”

“These are new arrivals.”

Lee-Lack looked up and smiled, showing yellow teeth.

“Very good, little brother. The question is: who are they, and where did they come from? I'm hoping to find some clues at the place of the attack. It occurred at night, and the merchants couldn't give a good description of them, Bernold says. The only thing they could tell him was that they didn't speak Standard Palton. Or at least not among themselves.”

“Where could they have come from? From the midlands of Ximerion?”

“Unlikely. We would have known. We haalign=wn.om d spies all over the Northern Marches this last year in accordance with our agreement with Shigurtish. Somebody would have noticed a foreign group.”

“From the east. We don't know what countries lie behind the desert.”

“Maybe... I suppose it's possible, though not likely. They fled westwards with the horses.”

“Westwards? That's in the direction of Mirkadesh.”

“Or the Pashira Forest.”

They fell silent for a while.

“We've got to find them,” Norri-Nack said.

“Yes, and kill them. All of them. After we've found out where they came from.”

“We will, brother, we will. But that's not what is worrying you most, is it?”

For the second time Lee-Lack looked up. This time he let the surprise show on his face.

“
I see I will have to keep an eye on you, little brother. I think I will keep you close, very close from now on.