The King's Name (11 page)

Govien opened his mouth, but I beat him to it. "If Arling is likely to land in Tevin then it makes it less likely we

are going to get reinforcements here," I said, dragging them back to the point before they went off on a long digression about Jar-nish customs. "How are we going to get Marchel out?"

"What would get us out if we were in there and being besieged?" Bradwen asked.

"Good question," I said. I thought about it. Cynrig grinned at Bradwen and she preened. I ignored them and considered what would get me out. Nothing would unless the walls were likely to fall, except lack of supplies.

"Nothing. I'd wait until they'd gone away."

"We could send the Isarnagans up against the town," Goli-dan said. "I remember when they came against

Derwen. We thought the sheer weight of them would have the gates down, and there was nothing we could do but sortie out now and then and throw things from the walls."

"They'll be there tonight," I said. "We can try that. But if we could get the walls down and the Isarnagans into the town there would be no restraining them. None of us have forgotten we have friends inside as well as enemies."

"What if we did go away?" ap Madog asked. "What would she do?"

"Probably go up the highroad to Caer Gloran to join up with Cinvar," I said. "The last thing we want is two hostile alae on the loose and out of reach. They're not strong enough to stand against us, but against infantry the light horses may not make much difference."

"What happens if they come out and try to run past us?" ap Madog asked. "They're very fast.

They might try to form up and make a run for it."

"Good point," I said, leaning forward intently. "We need to keep her engaged and stop her escaping. We've got to stop her from forming up and getting away."

"We could keep trying to flank them," Govien said. "By pennons. Whenever any group of them tries to form up. That would work."

"It might," I said slowly, thinking about it.

"I think it would," ap Madog said, moving his cup toward his bowl consideringly. "If we can keep between them and the road, and make sure we don't charge through them."

"I don't know," Golidan said. "That ought to work. But how about if we ambushed her? If we let her come out and make toward Caer Gloran, north up the highroad, and then caught her on the way? There'd be no problem with forming up, we could take her from both sides if we found a good spot, which we could scout out well in advance."

"Tempting, but too risky," I said after a moment. "If she went to Derwen or across the river here, instead, we'd be sitting there like a saddle on a cow while she started ravaging the country.

We don't know for sure that's what she'll do."

"Ambush is a good idea though," Cynrig said, stroking his beard. "If we pretended to leave and didn't."

Bradwen smiled at him admiringly. Those two had shared blankets on and off for a while, before he had been promoted off to Dun Morr. I resisted die urge to pour cold water on them.

"We could destroy the crops in the fields," Govien said. "That might get her out, and we could be ready."

"We need to be closer," I said.

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"If we built a stockade on the hill with the cache just to the north of Magor," Bradwen said, "the one with the good spring. Then we'd be close enough but not too close. And we could have the Isarnagans build it and guard it when they come up. Then, rather than burning crops we could start to gather them in the fields, even if they're not quite ready. We could use the cabbage and turnips for the horses, even small. If she saw that it might make her sortie out, especially if she only saw the Isarnagans."

"We have to think like a fox," I said. "What would we do if we thought the besiegers had gone away?"

"Send out scouts," everyone chorused, then we all laughed.

"So that won't work," I said, leaning back on the rickety wall. "Because scouts would find out the real situation. But what if we tried to make her think that we had gone and were pretending we hadn't?"

"She'd still send scouts," ap Madog said.

I thought about what could get me out of there. "If we acted as if we'd left half an ala that was pretending to be a whole ala, with the Isarnagans, she'd think she could take them. She wouldn't want to send out scouts

then, because half an ala would be enough to get scouts, and scouts might scare them into the stockade to stop them bluffing."

"We could have someone else in your praefecto's cloak so she thinks you've gone and have left someone pretending to be you. Someone not as tall," quiet Cadarn said. It was the first thing he'd said all day. "I'll do it if you like."

"I will," Bradwen said. "It'll look more likely on a woman, but I'll go close enough that someone will recognize me, or at least see that I'm not Sulien."

"Why would you go, though?" Ap Madog protested. "I mean, she'd guess it's a trick. You've no reason to go off anywhere."

I thought for a moment. There wasn't much that would get me away from Magor at the moment.

"If Derwen was attacked, or if Urdo called me away," I said.

"So we need a messenger!" Govien said, excited. "A messenger arriving very obviously from Aberhavren, a red-cloak riding up exhausted and rushing up to the camp, and then that night you sneak away. She'd believe that I think."

Between us we worked out all the details of the subterfuge. Then we rode back to Magor and secured the hill and the roads. I left half a pennon at Aberhavren under ap Madog with strict orders to send for me if there was any trouble or any troops sighted from any direction. We brought up the supplies from two of the nearby caches and added them to the cache on the hill. We spent most of the day demonstrating as showily as we could what a whole ala looks like and pretending to threaten the walls. They threw spears but were otherwise helpless. I gave orders that no local farmers were to be hurt and that as much as possible we should try to avoid damaging crops and property. We would need to cut trees and gather some crops later but I explained we would compensate the farmers for them. This had been close to our standard way of operating in the war, so the ala took this calmly.

I had no herald so I sent my trumpeter, Berth, under herald's branches to try and negotiate. Aurien, or

Marchel, sent Father Cinwil out to ask us to go away and stop invading Magor. The negotiation was as pointless as I had known it would be; it just wasted an hour of the morning.

When the Isarnagans came up that evening we set them to building the stockade around the hill.

Ap Ranien and Emer came up to me in the long dusk. I was standing by the newly driven posts of the stockade, gazing down the valley at Magor and the distant line of the sea.

"There's just no possibility of holding them, sir," ap Ranien said, as soon as I greeted him. "It was hard enough on Derwen land, but here? How can you expect it? They're out in
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arms, they're bound to loot."

It took me a moment to realize they were talking about the rule on looting. "But this isn't an invasion, it's a civil war," I said, as calmly as I could.

"We know all about civil wars," Emer said. "More than you do, I think. The people have come to fight, and they won't understand what you mean by restraint. I've told them they mustn't kill the farmers of Magor, that it would be dishonorable, and I think they heard that. But as far as property goes—if we try to say that they should harm nothing they'll just go home, probably looting all the way back to Dun Morr."

"It's barbaric!" I exclaimed. They said nothing. I looked from one to the other of them. Ap Ranien was standing as stiff and bristling as a pine tree. He looked desperately unhappy.

Emer wasn't looking at me at all. "It's our custom," she said. "We will need to be in the land longer than this to change it."

So the next morning I went around the local farms warning them about the war, explaining that nobody could restrain the Isarnagans, and offering the farmers the protection of Derwen if they cared to go there. More of them headed west than I expected. I did not think they would be so afraid. It was going to be very crowded at home. I hoped Veniva could cope.

I set scouts to watching the two gates of Magor in case Marchel or anyone ventured out. Then I set the other half of ap Madog's pennon, with all the scouts, to scouting the whole area to give warning of any approaching troops from anywhere. They would be based at Aberhavren under ap Madog's command and use the supplies and the stables there. This left me with six pennons and an Isarnagan army. I tried to keep the army inside the stockade as much as I could to minimize looting problems. I ordered some of them to gather the ripest cabbages nearest to Magor. They could have done with another ten days or half a month in the ground, but the horses were happy at the addition to their diet. I hoped to make Marchel think we would gather all the

crops as they ripened, leaving her nothing.

All that day I kept half the ala rested and ready to mount if she came out. At noon, the fake red-cloak arrived with what looked like an urgent message. Then, on toward twilight but when there was still light to be seen, I

led three pennons quietly away north up the highroad as if we were sneaking off toward Caer Gloran. When it was completely dark I led them even more quietly back around to the hill with the stockade and inside.

For the next seven days we tried hard to make six pennons look like three trying to look like six. Bradwen wore my gold-leaf praefecto's cloak and rode about as if she were trying to keep out of direct sight of Magor, but actually hoping to be recognized. I stayed in the stockade. The deception made my head hurt, especially as time went on and there was no indication that Marchel was fooled at all.

On the tenth day she came out, as the Isarnagans started to gather the turnips. What she could see was half the ala waiting unmounted but ready under the trees, and the disorganized Isarnagans. The rest of us were in the stockade, and likewise ready. I felt we had been ready so long that the sortie would never happen and we would remain there until the Malms started to get hungry.

The hardest part was letting her get them all out before we attacked. We had arranged the palisade so that we could move out a section and ride downhill. I knew that if she noticed us before she had her pennons committed she would pull back behind the walls. Waiting just the right amount of time was agonizing.

Evenstar was restless under me and I tried to speak soothingly to her. Marchel's armigers advanced through the gates, and I waited and watched. The half ala under Govien mounted up.

Bradwen discarded my spare cloak to avoid confusion. More of Marchel's forces came out.

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Then, as soon as they were all there, I gave the orders. The Isarnagans swung out the wall section, and we charged downhill, spear points lowered, ready to take them in the flank.

It was a glorious moment pounding down toward them. It seemed as if it was going to be like the charges we made in the war, until we were nearly there. Then it was clear that they were mounted and mobile, and they could also wheel about and charge. They were faster than I had thought, even after seeing them fight before.

And then we were among them and there was no time for thought, only for attack and evasion and blood and death. Evenstar shouldered the lighter horses hard, though they tried to duck and dodge away. That left me dealing with the riders. We were not used to fighting mounted opponents, and they were not used to fighting against people riding horses larger and stronger than theirs. I tried to take as much advantage of that as I could.

I fought with the spear until it was dragged from my hands by a falling armiger. Then I drew my sword, the sword I had owned so long it felt almost like an extension of my arm, except that I never forgot it had belonged to my brother Darien. It was the sword that had killed Morwen and many another enemy. I took an instant to brandish the sword toward the light of the setting sun and dedicate the slain to the Lord of Light.

Then Evenstar reared and kicked out at one of the Malmish horses and I was back in the endless moment of battle, and there was nothing but the press and my companions and the enemy.

•

Isarnagans kept her away from the walls of Magor and the ala stayed between her and the highroad. As soon as she was committed I signaled for all the Isarnagans, those who had been picking turnips and all the ones from the camp. They poured around the walls and blocked her from retreat. They kept their spears up and used their slingstones to devastating effect.

This forced her away from the walls and out onto the uneven ground. I glanced around now and then to make sure they were staying where they should be, and they were, their raven banners catching the breeze. People on the walls were throwing things down onto the nearest and some of them had their shields up. I had a glimpse of Aurien once, standing on the wall by the gate above them, bareheaded. I looked away quickly. I did not want to see her. The Malms who were trying to kill me were strangers.

It was a long, hard fight. We kept on fighting, rallying, holding, and drawing back until we were all exhausted and our horses were foaming at the mouth. Even I could hardly spare a thought to the wider strategy. We were starting to get the upper hand, and with the Isarnagans between Marchel and the walls, in theory we could change horses and they could not. But the Malms kept pressing on, preventing us from disengaging. At last I saw Marchel across the battlefield.

She looked angry and was fighting furiously, engaged with Cynrig.