Warrior (The Key to Magic) (32 page)

"Sorry about that, Mhiskva.  We were only a bit off schedule, though.  I took the boy to have his sails adjusted at a nice establishment that I know down in the city.  The women there are very understanding and patient."

His expression quiescent, Wilhm nodded his head in his ponderous way.  "Lhissa was very nice."

Mhiskva scowled.  "My lord, perhaps Wilhm should not be exposed to such common vices without the permission of his brother, Orhv."

Lord Hhrahld gave a great sigh.  "You are right, of course, but we all know that this is the end of it, High-Captain.  We see it in our dreams and I feel it in my bones.  The three of us are not coming back from this voyage and I did not want Wilhm to leave this world not having experienced one of its great comforts."

Mhiskva looked at the hulking pirate for a moment, then urged, "Turn aside, Lord Hhrahld.  Take Wilhm and go to Bhrisnia.  Bhrisnia will endure, this I know to be true."

With profound sadness, the Prince-Protector shook his head.  "That I cannot do.  We have a duty in the east, you, Wilhm, and I.  I will not leave it to another to bear my burdens.  Even if I were so craven, I know that it is only the bond of the Gaaelfharenii that keeps me sane and holds Wilhm's rage in check.  We must face what comes together, the three of us."

Much as he wanted to, Mhiskva could not refute the old pirate's words and slowly nodded.  "Yes, I suppose we must."

Third Officer Keiarh gained a low cruising altitude of twenty manheight within an half an hour, leveled off, and gradually accelerated to his flank speed, which Mhiskva had been told was close to five leagues per hour.  It would take better than twenty hours to reach Lhinstord, but that was still a remarkable speed to Mhiskva's mind, considering that the same distance traveled by horse or galley would have taken ten days or more.

After another hour, some eight leagues west of Mhajhkaei, the shoreline curved northward into the vast Steel Bay.  Following the shoreline would have added another forty leagues to the journey, so Keiarh had set a direct course due east over the waters of the Silver Sea.  With low tide and a stiff wind from the southwest, the waves below were choppy and any wet sailor would be having a rough time of it, but the
Empress Telriy
proceeded unhindered.  The favorable wind caused Captain Thylbr to have half canvas put up to gain a little extra speed and by nightfall, the expedition had covered a full thirty leagues by the shipmaster's reckoning.

Except to have a quick cold supper of bread, cheese, and cured beef sausage and to respond to calls of nature, Mhiskva stayed on deck the entire time.  All of the skyships had lookouts posted in the shrouds and fore and aft, but he felt moved to keep a personal watch, wandering from bow to stern, his eyes cataloguing one part of the sky for a few moments and then shifting to another.  He did not expect to see Shrikes this far west, but the nearer they came to Lhinstord, the greater the possibility that one of the Brotherhood's skyships would discover them.  The
Empress Telriy
had no defense against the speedy enemy vessels and the only hope for the men aboard her and her tows was to seek cover on the ground.  He had given Third Officer Keiarh orders to descend and to steer toward land immediately at the first sighting of a Shrike. 

Four hours into the night, the fat sliver of Father Moon arose, providing enough light to reveal when the skyship passed from over the bay to the hilly, scrub and vineyard covered terrain of the Nharlae Peninsula.  Occasionally, a light could be seen below in some village or other, but in the main the world was dark and slumbering.  When the wind changed to the south, Captain Thylbr sent men up to furl the sails and the
Empress Telriy
lost some speed, but she still reached the eastern shore of the broken headland within an hour.  This landmark signaled that the skyship had reached the halfway point to Lhinstord.  Here, Third Officer Keiarh shifted course to an east-northeast bearing.  This would, according to Captain Thylbr's plot, make them strike the coast again just west of the Sand River.  It had seemed advisable that the last several leagues of their journey to Lhinstord be undertaken over dry land.

Completing another widdershins circuit of the skyship, Mhiskva went back forward to join first mate Bentlh and Third Officer Keiarh on the steerage, and unobtrusively examined the pilot.  The former scholar had begun to show signs of severe strain.  Though it was quite cool at this altitude, Keiarh's brow was covered in sweat and his breath had begun to labor.  The other officers of the ship had taken watches on and off through the voyage, but there was no one to take Keiarh's place. 

"Third Officer," Mhiskva told the thin fellow, "perhaps you should allow the skyship to coast for a bit and take a rest."

Without turning his head from his blank stare into space, the magician-pilot said, "Thank you, sir, but I can't do that.  If I let her take her head, the winds would push her off course.  Moreover, we'd loose speed immediately.  I don't have the skill to fix the driving spell at a specific strength.  For me, it's like a constantly moving target.  Every adjustment I make has to be adjusted for overcorrection and then an adjustment made for that and so on."

Mhiskva gave a understanding nod.  "I appreciate your dedication, Third Officer."

Keiarh turned out his palm to show the Scar.  "We all do our duty, sir."

By dawn, the coast was again within sight, but the magician-pilot appeared near exhaustion.  He now slumped in his chair, bleary-eyed and occasionally shivering.

Captain Thylbr had the first day watch, and as soon as he appeared on deck, he had a quiet discussion with Keiarh and then came over to speak with Mhiskva.

"High-Captain, I think we're going to have to set down.  Third Officer Keiarh is adamant that he can keep going, but he's been awake for almost nineteen hours.  He must have a rest or I'm afraid that he will keel over."

Though more than anxious to reach Lhinstord in the shortest time possible, Mhiskva had already come to the same conclusion himself.

"As soon as we reach an open area large enough to accommodate all the skyships, we will land for a few hours and let everyone stretch their legs.  Once Third Officer Keiarh had recovered sufficiently, we will press on."

Mhiskva had a signalman flag the other skyships to let them know about the stopover, and then went to tell the legates and subalterns in charge of the armsmen aboard the
Empress Telriy
to prepare to disembark.

An irregular landscape of creek bottoms and low hills, the area inland from the coast, a western province of the Lhinstordii princedom, was thinly settled.  Wool seemed to be the major produce of the small farms and holdings, with sheep dotting most of the pastures.  The few roads were twisting trails hardly wide enough to accommodate a wagon and none were paved.

The first suitable landing area to be encountered was a large pasture that ran more or less in a northerly direction alongside a deep, placid rill.  A few dairy cattle were strolling about the southern end, but the barns and farm buildings were on the rising ground west of the watercourse.  To the east a low hill covered in scrub oak offered the potential of shade and concealment from aerial observation.

It took Keiarh almost half an hour to align the skyships with the pasture and bring them down to just an armlength above the waving grass.  When he was done, Captain Thylbr and four of the skyship's crew had to carry the exhausted pilot below.

The marines and legionnaires disembarked from the skyships on the double, streaming into the woods covering the eastern hill.  Mhiskva had given orders for the armsmen to establish a distributed bivouac.

After checking the skies one last time, Mhiskva went below to join Lord Hhrahld and Wilhm and the three of them exited down the starboard ramp and moved out in the wake of the armsmen.

As their long, matched strides carried them away from the skyships, Lord Hhrahld raised his eyes up and swiveled his head back and forth. 

"I dislike these new ways of war," the Prince-Protector commented.  "It seems to me unnatural that death should come with no warning from the heavens."

"War is death," Wilhm said after a moment.

"Aye, that is true, but it used to be more personal.  You had to look into the face, if perhaps only briefly, of the man that you fought.  You had to see his rage or fear or indifference."

"Dead is dead," the younger Gaaelfharenii affirmed with unruffled certainty.

"Yes, Wilhm," Lord Hhrahld agreed with a bleak expression, "I certainly cannot argue that."

After a few more steps, the Prince-Protector asked, "What shall we call our war band, Mhiskva?  Shall we give it a heroic name or just continue to call it 'the marines and legionnaires?'"

"If this were Bhrisnia, our force would be of a size to be styled a war band.  That is sufficient for now."

"I fear that there is no poetry in your soul, Mhiskva," Lord Hhrahld accused.

"I think that you would be right in that, my lord,"

Upon reaching the trees, Mhiskva and his companions made the rounds of the scattered units.  He checked with each unit's commander to make sure that no difficulties had been encountered while Lord Hhrahld and Wilhm circulated to confirm that the marines and legionnaires, but especially the inexperienced latter, were not doing anything that would betray their presence to the Shrikes.

The legates and subalterns, though all young, had been trained well and the bivouac took shape in an efficient fashion, with a picket of guards stationed around the perimeter, latrines being dug at least two hundred paces from the spring fed creek that wandered down the slope, and food brought from the skyships and distributed. 

"Some of that new armor on the legionnaires is a bit shiny," Lord Hhrahld opined when he and Wilhm had completed their chore and joined Mhiskva on a rocky prominence that provided a partially obscured view of the skyships and the pasture.

"Especially the helmets.  They glint in the sunlight.  I have told them to cover themselves in their greatcloaks when they take their ease.  The rough gray leather fades into the shadows better."

As Mhiskva anticipated having to march his small force once they crossed the Sand River, each of the armsmen had been outfitted with a full kit for the field.  Each carried a bulky shoulder satchel with dried trail rations, various small implements, camping sundries, a canteen, and a rolled, wool-lined leather greatcloak that could be slept in.  Each section and troop also had distributed amongst its members an assortment of shovels, wood axes, and saws to build temporary shelters and fortifications.

Making his way through the underbrush, Mhiskva started back down the hill.  "When the press of the war is not so great, it might be advisable to look into draping a green or brown tabard over our armor.  If an armsman on foot must skulk in the weald, then he should be difficult to see, just like the wolf and the hare."

"It might be better to use some sort of thin cloak that could be worn even in the heat of summer," Lord Hhrahld mused.  "Perhaps dappled in different shades like the
khadacthyl."

"I have read about those, but never seen one."

"It is a cat bigger than a wolf, twice as smart, and nigh impossible to see even in the brightest daylight.  In the jungles along the southeast coast of Szillarn, a man does not dare tramp about alone for fear of winding up in one's belly." 

 As they continued downward, the intervening foliage thickened, blocking sight of the
Empress Telriy
, but when they were just twenty paces from the edge of the pasture, the underbrush, pruned no doubt by wandering kine, cleared out.

The Shrike came out of the south, popping below the scattered clouds so quickly that its shadow passed over the
Empress Telriy
between one eye blink and the next.

"Alert the others!" Mhiskva shouted as he started running.

He crossed more than a hundred and fifty armlengths of tall grass in less than five seconds, but did not reach the
Empress Telriy
in time.  With what must have been a truly heroic effort by Third Officer Keiarh, the skyship leapt from the ground just beyond his reach and began a sharp rise into the sky.  The still attached tows dutifully followed along and he could only stop and watch as the transports fled, knowing that they had no real chance of escape.  The crews of all four were still aboard.

The
Empress Telriy
had only made eight manheight of altitude, her keel barely clearing the fence row trees at the northern end of the pasture, when the Shrike flashed over again, blasting out twin streams of black cylinders.

Mhiskva saw the line of magical projectiles smash the masts and rigging of the tows and then run the length of the big skyship.   Explosions of splinters burst in showers from her deck and hull and then the
Empress Telriy
split apart into several large pieces that crashed uncontrolled onto the farm track beyond the fence row, dragging the tows down as well.

FIFTY-ONE

143rd Year of the Reign of the City

Ninthday, Waning, 3rd Springmoon, 1645 After the Founding of the Empire

Steo Hills

Number One had crossed nearly a hundred leagues in two hours, and Ghorn, no doubt along with everyone aboard her, had thought that the violently shuddering skyship might burst apart at any moment.  The king stopped only for the scant moments that it took to disembark Ghorn. 

Experiencing a guilty moment of relief at leaving the combat vessel, Ghorn jumped from the open cargo hatch before the skyship stopped completely, landing on the deck of the log mooring tower that extended a manheight above the treetops.

As the skyship zoomed away, the king declared with a magically broadcast voice that echoed across the treetops, "I have brought Prince-Commander Ghorn.  He will command this army.  Obey him as you would me."

Ghorn had not had much time to survey the encampment from the air and as he clattered down the tower's rough steps, he looked about.  The three corps of the First Army were encamped with little to no overall organization or cohesion over a roughly circular area of vales and hills that he judged must measure nearly a league in diameter.  The heavy forest prevented him from discerning much of the exact layout of the camp, but it was immediately clear that the precept of concealment that had been the stated reason for the location of the army was being violated in numerous ways.  Most significantly, the thick smoke rising from the field kitchens sited around the base of the tower could likely be seen for miles.  Also, a work force that must have numbered a full legion in size was in the process of clear cutting a large, roughly level area in a draw to the southeast.  He guessed that to be intended as a parade ground, which might be deemed a necessity according to traditional protocols but which he thought was a blatant invitation to aerial attack.