The Right Hand of God (36 page)

The weather broke the next day. One of the huge storms, wafted north from the Veridian Borders on the desert wind, slowly moved abreast of the marching army. Though the marchers were spread over nearly two leagues, from the Company and the Jugom Ark at the front to the many provision-laden wagons at the rear, the cloud covered them all. Lightning cracked and boomed all around them, then the rain began and within a few minutes came down in torrents, as though trying to crush Leith's army into the muddy road. He could do nothing but call a halt for the day, though there were hours of daylight left. To march on in the storm-darkness risked injury. It seemed to take an age to pass the message down the ranks, though some of the more experienced soldiers had already set up camp, with tents pitched and horses tethered in anticipation of the order.

The storm passed overhead at a snail's pace. At times the rain relented, as though the great cloud was exhausted; but then the hail would return with renewed vigour, battering the tents and the shields of anyone unfortunate enough to be left in the open. The losian army bore the hail with stoic silence, having but few tents among them, and unwilling -or uninvited - to share the tents of their First Men allies.

At the height of the storm a horse came galloping down

the road in a tunnel of spray, drawing to a halt in front of the generals' tent. A rider leaped from its back and flung open the tent flap. It was one of the heralds sent out every morning to announce the coming of the Falthan army and to recruit any willing fighters. 'There is a force of arms less than a league east of here, holding the road against us,' he said. 'Many thousands strong. Like us, they wait out the storm, but will march west when the rain stops.'

'Their devices, man!' one of the Straux leaders roared. 'What were their devices?'

'My lord,' he stammered, 'they display a banner of green, slashed left to right with blue and overlaid with a brown tree.' At this, several of the generals sighed their relief, and the man from Straux clapped his hands together.

'You're from Deruys, are you not? Were you not taught to recognise the banner of the northern plain? It is the Army of Deuverre come to join us!'

The good news spread throughout the army, making up, to a degree, for the soaking everyone received. Before nightfall the storm drifted away to worry someone else, rattling and booming in the northern distance. The Deuverrans joined their numbers to what was already the largest army ever assembled in the history of Faltha - at least, according to the old man Jethart whom Leith often saw in the company of his father.

Leith was listening to a detailed recitation of the Falthan army's remaining stores when the summons came. The Falthan army suffered a severe shortage of axles, apparently; a consequence of rutted ground. He believed it important to keep abreast of such things, even though someone else always seemed to have these matters under control. Perhaps if he had been listening to something of greater interest he would have turned the messenger with the summons away. But he recognised his mother's handwriting on the parchment, and knew there were issues more important than axles he needed to deal with. Bidding the clerk a good day, he left with the young woman who delivered the summons and made his way across a muddy half-mile of trampled fields. There, some distance apart from the armies, stood a plain white pavilion topped with his banner.

Ambush. The word sprang into his mind when he opened the tent flap and walked into the pavilion. In the foreground stood a long table, from which servants cleared the remains of a substantial meal. A meal to which he hadn't been invited, and during which he was no doubt discussed. The scrape and clatter of wooden platters served to mask the whispering of his family and friends, his Company, who sat on two rows of benches set up behind the empty board. As Leith approached them their heads drew apart, they fell silent and their eyes settled on him like accusations.

Leith needed no telling what this was about. Mahnum and Indrett sat in the centre of the front bench. His mother had been crying, her red, blotchy face all the evidence he needed. As Farr rose from his bench, Leith began to gather his anger.

Unbidden, an image appeared in his mind. A massive shape, stretching right across his mind's eye. It came from his dream in Foilzie's basement, when the Most High had fallen upon the Company with Fire.

'I told you I'd remind you of this.'

I haven't forgotten, Leith responded. Quiet, even serene, the feelings associated with that dream smothered his anger, leaving him calm. He'd received a vision of sorts in his dream, in which he'd seen a vast cube which stood for the love

others had for him. As he beheld this love, somehow rendered in physical form, a voice had spoken: 'Nothing you do will exhaust the love your family and your friends have for you.'

I still remember.

'Your friends and your family will speak out of love, but their words will offend you. They do not understand the struggles you go through in order to hold the Jugom Ark.' J don't understand my struggles either. Could I talk with you about them?

'Of course, but not now. Others want to talk with you about much the same thing. ' As always, this exchange apparently occupied no time at all. Farr got to his feet, cleared his throat and welcomed Leith to the meeting. 'We're here to talk about your role in the coming war,' he said. 'I've called the Company together because we're concerned about your fitness to lead us.'

'A little blunt, but Farr has the heart of it,' his father said. 'Leith, we can go no further without reassurance you act in our best interest. We have spoken with the losian leaders, specifically Jethart, and he has explained to me how those not of the Fire are not harmed by the touch of the Jugom Ark. That is worrying information, Leith.'

Leith made to answer, but Kurr beat him to it, 'So it is, boy. What use is a weapon if it can't be used against our enemies? You're playing with the future of Faltha. How could you be so foolish?'

'People lost their lives on the journey to find that arrow,' said a soft voice from his right.

Illyon, the Escaignian woman.

The Haufuth made to speak, but Leith forestalled him. 'You are right,' he said quietly.

This had to be done with care; he walked a fine line. He would not, could not allow himself to be submerged by the

voice of the Jugom Ark. Above all, he wanted to avoid Hal's fate. His adopted brother's mystical union with the Most High, whether real or imagined, obliterated whatever personality he might once have had. What Leith said would need to leave him some freedom, while still keeping the confidence of the Company.

'You are right, all of you,' he repeated. 'I don't really know what to do with the Arrow, and I should have found out before now. Phemanderac spoke to me over a week ago, but I haven't seen him since. I note he's not here today. Was he asked?'

Farr frowned. 'What does that matter? Where I come from much is expected of young men.

For you to have come this far without fulfilling your duty is just cowardly. How could you value so lightly the sacrifices of those who died to get you this far?'

'Phemanderac did not want to attend today's meeting,' Indrett said. 'Leith, have you said anything to upset him?'

The echo in her voice spoke of Hal. His brother was nowhere to be seen. No matter what they say, they will not exhaust my love for them. Repeating this paraphrase of his vision gave Leith the strength to keep his frustration in check.

'Mother, I don't know what's wrong with Phemanderac. I need his wisdom, but whenever I send for him he responds with some excuse. He's busy, or he's sick, or he's got some task he can't get free from.'

'Then you must find someone else. None of us know anything about the Arrow. Find Phemanderac and make him talk to you. If he won't talk to you, try Jethart or Maendraga. Or Hal. But please, son, make sure you know everything you can know about the Jugom Ark before we encounter the Bhrudwans.'

The Haufuth shifted his bulk on the bench. 'You know, Leith, if I were you I'd be worried about the Destroyer. We're expecting him to accompany his army westwards. In your hand you hold the only weapon known to be effective against him. Aren't you afraid this whole journey is leading towards a confrontation between you and the Destroyer?'

'Haufuth!' Indrett hissed. 'We agreed not to mention your concerns!'

'We did, but we've asked Leith to face up to his responsibility. We have to face up to ours. We can't leave Leith to work this out on his own.'

Bless you, Haufuth. Leith did not expect to meet the Destroyer face to face: the Undying Man would surely have more important people to deal with. Nevertheless, his village headman's words were the first in the meeting sympathetic to him.

T have learned some things about the Jugom Ark,' Leith said determinedly. 'It is tuned to my emotions, though I'm not sure what to make of that. Any advice would be welcome.' Put it back on them. 'I can heal with it. I haven't tried to use it as a weapon. I'm worried I'd do damage I didn't intend.'

'You need to find somewhere alone and practise,' Farr suggested.

'How could he practise?' Maendraga asked quietly. 'Are we going to round up volunteers to be slain by the Arrow?'

'What do you suggest, magician?' Farr leaned towards the guardian as though pressing him for an answer.

'Why not trust the Jugom Ark?' Belladonna stood and walked elegantly over to where Leith stood, Arrow guttering in his hand. 'You talk as though Leith directs the Arrow by his will.

From what I've seen, the reality is far more complex. Sometimes the Arrow reflects Leith's feelings, but other times

it appears to direct his actions. How else do we explain the way Leith beat back Deorc's unholy blue fire?'

For a moment he debated telling the Company about the voice in his head. Well, the Arrow speaks to me, but I'm not going crazy, honestly. A wild thought ran through his mind. He told them of the voice, and as a result his friends and family decided he was insane and demanded he lay the Arrow aside. He complied, feigning sorrow and leaving the task to others more fit than he.

No, he'd made his choice. Twice he'd made it by picking up the Arrow, once at Joram Basin and then again when he accepted leadership of the Company. He couldn't take that way out.

He was their leader now: it was time he led them. Ironically, his first act as leader would be to sit and listen to his followers chastise him.

He found the next hour very difficult. He was lectured by Kurr and, more gently but still as gallingly, by the Haufuth - whose abandonment of the Company in Withwestwa Wood seemed to have been forgotten. His father brought up the subject of his brother while his mother nodded in the background. Again everyone ignored Mahnum's difficulties with his own father, Modahl. It all seemed so unfair.

Words formed in his mind. Just as I've been fair to you by admitting my fault, you need to be fair to me. Until Hal explains why so much of his counsel works against our interests, he needs to be watched. Just as you have called me to account, so you need to call him.

He gritted his teeth and kept his mouth closed. The vision he'd had in Foilzie's basement enabled him to get through without saying something he would regret. Only two dissenting voices were heard in the pavilion. Maendraga and his daughter continued to suggest there was little to worry

about, but Leith knew better. He needed knowledge, and he knew from whom he would seek it.

Waking up a little earlier than usual, Stella slid across her silken sheets and eased open the curtain of her litter. The Army of Bhrudwo had spent the last week slowly winding up a series of steep inclines, ascending to a land even higher than the high plateau of Birinjh, and the previous night they had halted on a broad stair just above the treeline. In the half-light of a pre-dawn sky, the land around her seemed just like that of northern Firanes. The environs of Windrise, perhaps, or the upper Thraell valley. Just thinking of those places set her heart aching, and the tears she seemed constantly to be shedding came to her eyes yet again. Her mind populated the landscape with woodsmen - laughing Fodhram, perhaps - and a village or two, their fires sending lazy spirals of smoke into the pinking sky. She imagined the Company walking up that shadowy defile to her right: the old farmer Kurr in front, Leith and his brother Hal just behind, deep in conversation. Her eyes moved back down the valley, and there she was, it seemed, eyes down on the stony path, walking in front of the Storrsen brothers, Farr and Wira - her heart gave a twist - followed by Perdu and the Haufuth sharing a joke. For a moment the agony of the sight bit at her like a knife in her side, and she screwed her eyes shut tight; but the scene remained spread across her inner vision.

A few feet away to her left, her four guards sat huddled around a small fire, eating the same gruel they fed to her each morning. One of them raised his voice in song, a high-pitched, plaintive chant that sounded entirely in keeping with her despair. After a few minutes the singer rose, put

down his bowl beside the fire and began walking towards her litter. No doubt he went to wake her to another day of fear, of hopelessness, of darkness.

Abruptly, Stella couldn't stand it a moment longer. On this bitter morning a slow death in the wilderness seemed infinitely preferable to continued captivity, even if it was in a silken cage.

She darted forward, her thin legs pumping, and within moments was gone, swallowed up by the shadows.

WARM SOUTH WINDS CONTINUED for a week or more until, early in the afternoon of the twentieth day since they had left Instruere, the Army of Faltha halted atop a small rise and looked out over central Faltha. Directly below them the Aleinus flowed from right to left in a wide curve, arcing off northwest into the mazy distance of the Maremma where, on the edge of sight, the sunlight reflected from hundreds of nameless lakes. To their right lay the town of Vindicare, the capital of Austrau, Straux's less populous eastern province. Behind the town over three hundred leagues of semi-arid steppeland stretched to the Taproot Hills of Redana'a in the east, and from the Deep Desert in the south to Favony in the north. Across this less promising land the army would have to make their way, but not on foot. Below them, in the broad harbour built in the lee of the great river's curve to the north, dozens of huge barges had been constructed.