Wounded men groaned at sunrise.
For the twelfth straight night the Tsurani had assaulted the castle, only to retire at dawn. Gardan could not see any clear reason for the dangerous night attacks. As he watched the Tsurani gathering up their dead, then returning to their tents, he said, “They are strange. Their archers cannot fire at the walls once the ladders are up for fear of hitting their own men. We have no such problem, knowing everyone below is the enemy. I don't understand these men.”
Arutha sat numbly washing the blood and dirt from his face, oblivious to the scene about him. He was too tired even to answer Gardan. “Here,” a voice nearby said, and he pulled the damp cloth from his face to see a proffered drinking cup. He took the cup and drained it in one long pull, savoring the taste of strong wine.
Carline stood before him, wearing tunic and trousers, her sword hanging at her side. “What are you doing here?” Arutha asked, fatigue making his voice sound harsh in his own ears.
Carline's manner was brisk. “Someone must carry water and food. With every man on the walls all night long, who do you think is fit for duty in the morning? Not that pitiful handful of porters who are too old for fighting, that is certain.”
Arutha looked about and saw other women, ladies of the castle as well as servants and fishwives, walking among the men, who thankfully took the offered food and drink. He smiled his crooked smile. “How fare you? “
“Well enough. Still, sitting in the cellar is as difficult in its own way as being on the wall, I judge. Each sound of battle that reaches us brings one or another of the ladies to tears.” Her voice carried a tone of mild disapproval. “They huddle like rabbits. Oh, it is so tiresome.” She stood quietly for a moment, then asked, “Have you seen Roland?”
He looked about. “Last night for a time.” He covered his face in the soothing wetness of the cloth. Pulling it away after a moment, he added, “Or perhaps it was two nights past. I've lost track.” He pointed toward the wall nearest the keep. “He should be over there somewhere. I put him in charge of the off watch. He is responsible for guarding against a flank attack.”
Carline smiled. She knew Roland would be chafing to get into the fight, but with his responsibilities it would be unlikely unless the Tsurani attacked on all sides. “Thank you, Arutha.”
Arutha feigned ignorance. “For what?”
She kneeled and kissed his wet cheek. “For knowing me better than I know myself sometimes.” She stood and walked away.
ROLAND WALKED ALONG the battlements, watching the distant forest beyond the broad clearing that ran along the eastern wall of the castle. He approached a guard standing next to an alarm bell and said, “Anything?”
“Nothing, Squire.”
Roland nodded. “Keep a watchful eye. This is the narrowest open area before the wall. If they come against a second flank, this is where I would expect the assault.”
The soldier said, “In truth, Squire. Why do they come only against one wall, and why the strongest?”
Roland shrugged. “I don't pretend to know. Perhaps to show contempt, or bravery. Or for some alien reason. “
The guard came to attention and saluted. Carline had come silently up behind them. Roland took her by the arm and hurried her along. “What do you think you're doing up here?” he said in ungentle tones.
Her look of relief at finding him alive and unhurt turned to one of anger. “I came to see if you were all right,” she said defiantly.
Guiding her down the stairs to the courtyard below, he answered, “We're not so far removed from the forest a Tsurani bowman could not reduce the Duke's household by one. I'll not explain to your father and brothers what my reasons were for allowing you up there.”
“Oh! Is that your only reason? You don't want to face Father.”
He smiled and his voice softened. “No. Of course not. “
She returned the smile. “I was worried.”
Roland sat upon the lower steps and plucked at some weeds growing near the base of the stones, pulling them out and tossing them aside. “Little reason for that. Arutha has seen I'll not risk much.”
Placatingly, Carline said, “Still, this is an important post. If they attack here, you'll have to hold with a small number until reinforcements come.”
“If they attack. Gardan came by yesterday, and he thinks they may tire of this soon and dig in for a long siege, waiting for us to starve.”
She said, “More's their hard luck, then. We've stores through the winter, and they'll find little to forage out there once the snows come.”
Playfully mocking, he said, “What have we here? A student of tactics?”
She regarded him like an overtaxed teacher confronted with a particularly slow student. “I listen, and I have my wits about me. Do you think I do nothing but sit around waiting for you men to tell me what is occurring? If I did, I'd know nothing.”
He put up his hands in sign of supplication. “I'm sorry, Carline. You are most definitely no one's fool.” He stood and took her hand. “But you have made me your fool.”
She squeezed his hand. “No, Roland, I have been the fool. It has taken me almost three years to understand just how good a man you are. And how good a friend.” She leaned over and kissed him lightly. He returned the kiss with tenderness. “And more,” she added quietly.
“When this is over . . . “ he began.
She placed her free hand over his lips. “Not now, Roland. Not now.”
He smiled his understanding. “I'd best be back to the walls, Carline.”
She kissed him again and left for the main courtyard and the work to be done. He climbed back to the wall and resumed his vigil.
IT WAS LATE afternoon when a guard shouted, “Squire! In the forest!” Roland looked in the indicated direction and saw two figures sprinting across the open ground. From the trees the shouts of men came, and the clamor of battle.
Crydee bowmen raised their weapons, then Roland shouted, “Hold! It's Longbow!” To the guard next to him he said, “Bring ropes, quickly.”
Longbow and Garret reached the wall as the ropes were being lowered and, as soon as they were secured, scrambled upward. When they were safely over the walls, they sank exhaustedly behind the battlements. Waterskins were handed the two foresters, who drank deeply.
“What now?” asked Roland.
Longbow gave him a lopsided smile. “We found another band of travelers heading northward about thirty miles southeast of here and arranged for them to visit with the Tsurani.”
Garret looked up at Roland with eyes darkly circled from fatigue. “A band he calls it. Damn near five hundred moredhel moving in strength. Must have been a full hundred chasing us through the woods the last two days. “
Roland said, “Arutha will be pleased. The Tsurani have hit us each night since you left. We could do with a little diverting of their attentions.”
Longbow nodded. “Where's the Prince?”
“At the west wall, where all the fighting's been.”
Longbow stood and pulled the exhausted Garret to his feet. “Come along. We'd better report.”
Roland instructed the guards to keep a sharp watch and followed the two huntsmen. They found Arutha supervising the distribution of weapons to those in need of replacing broken or dulled ones. Gardell, the smith, and his apprentices gathered up those that were repairable and dumped them into a cart, heading for the forge to begin work.
Longbow said, “Highness, another band of moredhel have come north. I led them here, so the Tsurani could be too busy to attack tonight.”
Arutha said, “That is welcome news. Come, we'll have a cup of wine, and you can tell of what you saw.
Longbow sent Garret off to the kitchen and followed Arutha and Roland into the keep. The Prince sent word asking Gardan to join them in the council room and, when they were all there, asked Longbow to recount his travels.
Longbow drank deeply from the wine cup placed before him. “It was touch and go for a while. The woods are thick with both Tsurani and moredhel. And there are many signs they have little affection for one another. We counted at least a hundred dead on both sides.”
Arutha looked at the other three men. “We know little of their ways, but it seems foolish for them to travel so close to Crydee.”
Longbow shook his head. “They have little choice, Highness. The Green Heart must be foraged clean, and they cannot return to their mountains because of the Tsurani. The moredhel are making for the Northlands and won't risk passing near Elvandar. With the rest of the way blocked by the Tsurani strength, their only path is through the forests nearby, then westward along the river toward the coast. Once they reach the sea, they can turn northward again. They must gain the Great Northern Mountains before winter to reach their brothers in the Northlands safely.”
He drank the rest of his cup and waited while a servant refilled it. “From all signs; nearly every moredhel in the south is making for the Northlands. It looks as if over a thousand have already safely been by here. How many more will come this way through the summer and fall, we cannot guess.” He drank again. “The Tsurani will have to watch their eastern flank and would do well to watch the south as well. The moredhel are starved and might chance a raid into the Tsurani camp while the bulk of the army is thrown against the walls of the castle. Should a three-way fight occur, it could get messy.”
“For the Tsurani,” said Gardan.
Martin hoisted his cup in salute. “For the Tsurani.”
Arutha said, “You've done well, Huntmaster.”
“Thank you, Highness.” He laughed. “I'd never thought to see the day I'd welcome sight of the Dark Brotherhood in the forests of Crydee.”
Arutha drummed his fingers upon the table. “It will be another two to three weeks before we can expect the armies from Tulan and Carse. If the Dark Brothers harry the Tsurani enough, we might have some respite.” He looked at Martin. “What occurs to the east?”
Longbow spread his hands upon the table. “We couldn't get close enough to see much as we hurried past, but they are up to something. They've a good number of men scattered throughout the woods from the edge of the clearing back about a half mile. If it hadn't been for the moredhel hot on our heels, Garret and I might not have made it back to the walls.”
“I wish I knew what they were doing out there,” said Arutha. “This attacking only at night, it surely masks some trickery.”
Gardan said, “We'll know soon enough, I fear.”
Arutha stood, and the others rose as well. “We have much to do in any event. But if they do not come this night, we should all take advantage of the rest. Order watches posted, and send the men back to the commons for sleep. If I'm needed, I'll be in my room.”
The others followed him from the council hall, and Arutha walked slowly to his room, his fatigued mind trying to grasp what he knew were important matters, but failing. He threw off only his armor and fell fully clothed across his pallet. He was quickly asleep, but it was a troubled, dream-filled slumber.
For a week no attacks came, as the Tsurani were cautious of the migrating Brotherhood of the Dark Path. As Martin had foretold, the moredhel were emboldened by hunger and had twice struck into the heart of the Tsurani camp.
On the eighth afternoon after the first moredhel attack, the Tsurani were again gathering on the field before the castle, their ranks once more swelled by reinforcements from the east. Messages carried by pigeon between Arutha and his father told of increased fighting along the eastern front as well. Lord Borric speculated Crydee was being attacked by troops fresh from the Tsurani homeworld, as there had been no reports of any troop movements along his front. Other messages arrived with word of relief from Carse and Tulan. Baron Tolburt's soldiers had departed Tulan within two days of receiving Arutha's message, and his fleet would join with Baron Bellamy's at Carse. Depending upon the prevailing winds, it would be from one to two weeks before the relief fleet arrived.
Arutha stood at his usual place upon the west wall, Martin Longbow at his side. They watched the Tsurani taking position as the sun sank in the west, a red beacon bathing the landscape in crimson.
“It seems,” said Arutha, “they mount a full attack tonight.”
Longbow said, “They've cleared the area of troublesome neighbors by all appearances, at least for a time. The moredhel gained us a little time, Highness, but no more.”
“I wonder how many will reach the Northlands?”
Longbow shrugged. “One in five perhaps. From the Green Heart to the Northlands is a long, difficult journey under the best of circumstances. Now . . .
He let his words trail off.
Gardan came up the stairs from the courtyard. “Highness, the tower watch reports the Tsurani are in formation.”
As he spoke, the Tsurani sounded their battle calls and began to advance. Arutha drew his sword and gave the order for the catapults to fire. Bowmen followed, unleashing a storm of arrows upon the attackers, but still the Tsurani came.
Through the night, wave after wave of brightly armored aliens threw themselves at the west wall of Castle Crydee. Most died on the field before the wall, or at its base, but a few managed to crest the battlements. They, too, died. Still, more came.
Six times the Tsurani wave had broken upon the defenses of Crydee, and now they prepared for a seventh assault. Arutha, covered in dirt and blood, directed the disposition of rested troops along the wall. Gardan looked to the east. “If we hold one more time, the dawn will be here. Then we should have some respite,” he said, his voice thick with fatigue.
“We will hold,” answered Arutha, his own voice sounding just as tired in his ears as Gardan's.
“Arutha?”
Arutha saw Roland and Amos coming up the stairs, with another man behind. “What now?” asked the Prince.
Roland said, “We can see no activity on the other walls, but there is something here you should see.”
Arutha recognized the other man, Lewis, the castle's Rathunter. It was his responsibility to keep vermin from the keep. He tenderly held something in his hands.
Arutha looked closely: it was a ferret, twitching slightly in the firelight. “Highness,” said Lewis, his voice thick with emotion, “ it ‘s”
“What, man?” said Arutha impatiently. With attack about to begin, he had little time to mourn a lost pet.
Roland spoke, for Lews was obviously overcome at the loss of his ferret. “The Rathunter's ferrets didn't return two days ago. This one crawled into the storage room behind the kitchen sometime since. Lewis found it there a few minutes ago.”
In choked tones, Lewis said, “They're all well trained, sire. If they didn't come back, it's because something kept them from returnin'. This poor lad's been stepped on. His back's broken. He must've crawled for hours to get back.”
Arutha said, “I fail to see the significance of this.”
Roland gripped the Prince's arm. “Arutha, he hunts them in the rat tunnels under the castle. “
Comprehension dawned upon Arutha. He turned to Gardan and said, “Sappers! The Tsurani must be digging under the east wall.”
Gardan said, “That would explain the constant attacks upon the west wall -- to draw us away.”
Arutha said, “Gardan, take command of the walls. Amos, Roland, come with me.”
Arutha ran down the steps and through the courtyard. He shouted for a group of soldiers to follow and bring shovels. They reached the small courtyard behind the keep, and Arutha said, “We've got to find that tunnel and collapse it.”
Amos said, “Your walls are slanted outward at the plinth. They'll recognize they can't fire the timbers of the tunnels to bring it down to make a breach. They'll be trying to get a force inside the castle grounds or into the keep.”
Roland looked alarmed. “Carline! She and the other ladies are in the cellars.”
Arutha said, “Take some men and go to the cellars.” Roland ran off. Arutha fell to his knees and placed his ear on the ground. The others followed his example, moving around, listening for sounds of digging from below.
CARLINE SAT NERVOUSLY next to the Lady Marna. The fat former governess made a show of calmly attending to her needlepoint despite the rustling and stirring of the other women in the cellar. The sounds of battle from the walls came to them as faint, distant echoes, muted by the thick walls of the keep. Now there was an equally unnerving quiet.
“Oh! To be sitting here like a caged bird,” said Carline.
“The walls are no place for a lady,” came the retort from Lady Marna.
Carline stood. As she paced the room, she said, “ I can tie bandages and carry water. All of us could.”
The other ladies of the court looked at one another as if the Princess had been bereft of her senses. None of them could imagine subjecting herself to such a trial.
“Highness, please,” said Lady Marna, “you should wait quietly. There will be much to do when the battle's over. Now you should rest.”
Carline began a retort, then stopped. She held up her hand. “Do you hear something?”
The others stopped their movement, and all listened. From the floor came a faint tapping sound. Carline knelt upon the flagstone. “My lady, this is most unseemly,” began the Lady Marna.
Carline stopped the complaint with an imperious wave of her hand. “Quiet!” She placed her ear upon the flagstones. “There is something . . .”
Lady Glynis shuddered. “Probably rats scurrying about. There are hundreds of them down here.” Her expression showed this revelation was about as unpleasant a fact as imaginable.
“Be quiet!” ordered Carline.
There came a cracking sound from the floor, and Carline leaped to her feet. Her sword came out of its scabbard as a fracture appeared in the stones of the floor. A chisel point broke through the flagstone, and suddenly the upturned stone was pushed up and outward.
Ladies screamed as a hole appeared in the floor. A startled face popped into the light, then a Tsurani warrior, hair filthy from the dirt of the tunnel, tried to scramble upward. Carline's sword took him in the throat as she shouted, “Get out! Call the guards!”
Most of the women sat frozen in terror, refusing to move. Lady Marna heaved her massive bulk from the bench upon which she sat and gave a shrieking town girl a backhanded slap. The girl looked at Lady Marna with wide-eyed fright for an instant, then broke toward the steps. As if at a signal, the others ran after, screaming for help.
Carline watched as the Tsurani slowly fell back, blocking the hole in the floor. Other cracks appeared around the hole, and hands pulled pieces of flagstone downward into the ever-widening entrance. Lady Marna was halfway to the steps when she saw Carline standing her ground. “Princess!” she shrieked.
Another man came scrambling upward, and Carline delivered a death blow to him. She was then forced back as the stones near her feet collapsed. The Tsurani had terminated their tunnel in a wide hole and were now broadening the entrance, pulling down stones so that they could swarm out, overwhelming any defenders.
A man fought upward, pushing Carline to one side, allowing another to start his climb upward. Lady Marna ran back to her former ward and grabbed up a large piece of loose stone, which she brought crashing down on the unhelmeted skull of the second man. Grunts and strange-sounding words came from the tunnel mouth as the man fell back upon those behind.
Carline ran the other man through and kicked another in the face. “Princess!” cried Lady Marna. “We must flee!”
Carline didn't answer. She dodged a blow at her feet delivered by a Tsurani who then sprang nimbly out of the hole. Carline thrust and the man dodged. Another came scrambling out of the hole, and the Lady Marna shrieked.
The first man turned reflexively at the sound, and Carline drove her sword into his side. The second man raised a serrated sword to strike Lady Marna, and Carline sprang for him, thrusting her sword point into his neck. The man shuddered and fell, his fingers releasing their grip on the sword. Carline grabbed Lady Marna's arm and propelled her toward the steps.
Tsurani came swarming out of the hole, and Carline turned at the bottom of the stairs. Lady Marna stood behind her beloved Princess, not willing to leave. The Tsurani approached warily. The girl had killed enough of their companions to warrant their respect and caution.
Suddenly a body crashed past the girl as Roland charged into the Tsurani, soldiers of the keep hurrying behind. The young Squire was in a frenzy to protect the Princess, and he bowled over three Tsurani in his rush. They tumbled backward, disappearing into the hole, Roland with them.
As the Squire vanished from view, Carline screamed, “Roland!” Other guards leaped past the Princess to engage the Tsurani who still stood in the cellar, and more jumped boldly into the hole. Grunts and cries, shouts and oaths rang from the tunnel.
A guard took Carline by the arm and began to drag her up the stairs. She followed, helpless in the man's strong grip, crying, “Roland!”
GRUNTS OF EXERTION filled the dark tunnel as the soldiers from Crydee dug furiously. Arutha had found the Tsurani tunnel and had ordered a shaft sunk near it. They were now digging a countertunnel to intercept the Tsurani, near the wall. Amos had agreed with Arutha's judgment that they needed to force the Tsurani back beyond the wall before collapsing the tunnel, denying them any access to the castle.
A shovel broke through, and men began frantically clearing away enough dirt to allow passage into the Tsurani tunnel. Boards were hastily jammed into place, jury-rigged supports, preventing the earth above from caving in on them.
The men from Crydee surged into the low tunnel and entered a frantic, terrible melee. Tsurani warriors and Roland's squad of soldiers were locked in a desperate hand-to-hand struggle in the dark. Men fought and died in the gloom under the earth. It was impossible to bring order to the fray, with the fighting in such confinement. An overturned lantern flickered faintly, providing little illumination.
Arutha said to a soldier behind, “Get more men!”
“At once, Highness!” answered the soldier, turning toward the shaft.
Arutha entered the Tsurani tunnel. It was only five feet high, so he moved stooped over. it was fairly wide, with enough room for three men to negotiate closely. Arutha stepped on something soft, which groaned in pain. He continued past the dying man, toward the sound of fighting.
It was a scene from his worst nightmare, faintly lit by widely spaced torches. With little room only the first three men could engage the enemy at any one point. Arutha called out, “Knives!” and dropped his rapier. In close quarters the shorter weapons would prove more effective.
He came upon two men struggling in the darkness and grabbed at one. His hand closed on chitinous armor, and he plunged his knife into the man's exposed neck. jerking the now lifeless body off the other man, he saw a jam of bodies a few feet away, where Crydee and Tsurani soldiers pressed against one another. Curses and cries filled the tunnel, and the damp earth smell was mixed with the odor of blood and excrement.
Arutha fought madly, blindly, lashing out at barely seen foes. His own fear kept threatening to overcome him as primitive awareness cried for him to quit the tunnel and the threatening earth above. He forced his panic down and continued to lead the attack on the sappers.
A familiar voice grunted and cursed at his side, and Arutha knew Amos Trask was near. “Another thirty feet, lad!” he shouted.
Arutha took the man at his word, having lost all sense of distance. The men of Crydee pressed onward, and many died killing the resisting Tsurani. Time became a blur and the fight a dim montage of images.
Abruptly Amos shouted, “Straw!” and bundles of dry straw were passed forward. “Torches!” he cried, and flaming torches were passed up. He piled the straw near a latticework of timbers and drove the torch into the pile. Flames burst upward, and he yelled, “Clear the tunnel!”
The fighting stopped. Every man, whether of Crydee or Tsurani, turned and fled the flames. The sappers knew the tunnel was lost without means to quench the flames and scrambled for their lives.
Choking smoke filled the tunnel, and men began to cough as they cleared the cramped quarters. Arutha followed Amos, and they missed the turn to the countertunnel, coming out in the cellar. Guardsmen, dirty and bloody, were collapsing on the stones of the cellar, gasping for air. A dull rumble sounded, and with a crash, a blast of air and smoke blew out of the hole. Amos grinned, his face streaked with dirt. “The timbers collapsed. The tunnel's sealed.”
Arutha nodded dumbly, exhausted and still reeling from the smoke. A cup of water was handed to him, and he drank deeply, soothing his burning throat.
Carline appeared before him. “Are you all right?” she asked, concern on her face. He nodded. She looked around. “Where's Roland?”
Arutha shook his head. “It was impossible to see down there. Was he in the tunnel?”
She bit her lower lip. Tears welled up in her blue eyes as she nodded. Arutha said, “He might have cleared the tunnel and come up in the courtyard. Let us see. “
He got to his feet, and Amos and Carline followed him up the stairs. They left the keep, and a soldier informed him the attack on the wall had been repulsed. Arutha acknowledged the report and continued around the keep until they came to the shaft he had ordered dug. Soldiers lay on the grass of the yard, coughing and spitting, trying to clear their lungs of the burning smoke. The air hung heavy with an acrid haze as fumes from the fire continued to billow from the shaft. Another rumble sounded, and Arutha could feel it through the soles of his boots. Near the wall a depression had appeared where the tunnel had fallen below. “Squire Roland!” Arutha shouted.
“Here, Highness,” came an answering shout from a soldier.
Carline dashed past Arutha and reached Roland before the Prince. The Squire lay upon the ground, tended by the soldier who answered. His eyes were closed and his skin pale, and blood seeped from his side. The soldier said, “I had to drag him along the last few yards, Highness. He was out on his feet. I thought it might be smoke until I saw the wound.”
Carline cradled Roland's head, while Arutha first cut the binding straps of Roland's breastplate, then tore away the undertunic. After a moment Arutha sat back upon his heels. “It's a shallow wound. He'll be all right.”
“Oh, Roland,” Carline said softly.
Roland's eyes opened and he grinned weakly. His voice was tired, but he forced a cheery note. “What's this? You'd think I'd been killed.”
Carline said, “You heartless monster.” She gently shook him but didn't release her hold as she smiled down at him. “Playing tricks at a time like this!”
He winced as he tried to move. “Ooh, that hurts.” She placed a restraining hand upon his shoulder.
“Don't try to move. We must bind the wound,” she said -- caught between relief and anger.
Nestling his head into her lap, he smiled. “I'd not move for half your father's Duchy.”
She looked at him in irritation. “What were you doing throwing yourself upon the enemy like that?”
Roland looked genuinely embarrassed. “In truth, I tripped coming down the steps and couldn't stop myself”
She placed her cheek against his forehead as Arutha and Amos laughed. “You are a liar. And I do love you,” she said softly.
Arutha stood and took-Amos in tow, leaving Roland and Carline to each other. Reaching the corner, they encountered the former Tsurani slave, Charles, carrying water for the wounded. Arutha halted the man.
He stood with a yoke across his shoulders holding two large water buckets. He was bleeding from several small wounds and was covered with mire. Arutha said, “What happened to you?”
With a broad smile, Charles said, “Good fight. Jump in hole. Charles good warrior.”
The former Tsurani slave was pale and weaved a little as he stood there. Arutha remained speechless, then indicated he should continue his work. Happily Charles hurried along. Arutha said to Amos, “What do you make of that?”
Amos chuckled. “I've had many dealings with rogues and scoundrels, Highness. I know little of these Tsurani, but I think that's a man to count on.”
Arutha watched as Charles dispensed water to the other soldiers, ignoring his own wounds and fatigue. “That was no mean thing, jumping into the shaft without orders. I'll have to consider Longbow's offer to put that man in service.”
They continued on their way, Arutha supervising the care of the wounded, while Amos was put in charge of the final destruction of the tunnel.
When dawn came, the courtyard was still, and only a patch of raw earth, where the shaft had been filled in, and a long depression running from the keep to the outer wall showed anything unusual had occurred in the night.
FANNON HOBBLED ALONG the wall, favoring his right side. The wound to his back was almost healed, but he was still unable to walk without aid. Father Tully supported the Swordmaster as they came to where the others waited.
Arutha gave the Swordmaster a smile and gently took him by the other arm, helping Tully hold him. Gardan, Amos Trask, Martin Longbow, and a group of soldiers stood nearby.
“What's this?” asked Fannon, his display of gruff anger a welcome sight to those on the wall. “Have you so little wits among you that you must haul me from my rest to take charge?”
Arutha pointed out to sea. On the horizon dozens of small flecks could be seen against the blue of sea and sky, flashes of brilliant white glinting as the morning sun was caught and reflected back to them. “The fleet from Carse and Tulan approaches the south beaches.”
He indicated the Tsurani camp in the distance, bustling with activity. “Today we'll drive them out. By this time tomorrow we'll clear this entire area of the aliens. We'll harry them eastward, allowing them no respite. It will be a long time before they'll come in strength again.”
Quietly Fannon said, “I trust you are right, Arutha.” He stood without speaking for a time, then said, “I have heard reports of your command, Arutha. You've done well. You are a credit to your father, and to Crydee.”
Finding himself moved by the Swordmaster's praise, Arutha tried to make light, but Fannon interrupted. “No, you have done all that was needed, and more. You were right. With these people we must not be cautious. We must carry the struggle to them.” He sighed. “I am an old man, Arutha. It is time I retired and left warfare to the young.”
Tully made a derisive noise. “You're not old. I was already a priest when you were still in swaddling.”
Fannon laughed with the others at the obvious untruth of the statement, and Arutha said, “You must know, if I've done well, it is because of your teachings.”
Tully gripped Fannon's elbow. “You may not be an old man, but you are a sick one. Back to the keep with you. You've had enough gadding about. You can begin walking regularly tomorrow. In a few weeks you'll be charging about, shouting orders at everyone like your old self.”
Fannon managed a slight smile and allowed Tully to lead him back down the stairs. When he was gone, Gardan said, “The Swordmaster's right, Highness. You've done your father proud.”
Arutha watched the approaching ships, his angular features fixed in an expression of quiet reflection. Softly he said, “If I have done well, it is because I have had the aid of good men, many no longer with us.” He took a deep breath, then continued, “You have played a great part in our withstanding this siege, Gardan, and you, Martin.”
Both men smiled and voiced their thanks. “And you, pirate.” Arutha grinned. “You've also played a great part. We are deeply in your debt.”
Amos Trask tried to look modest and failed. “Well, Highness, I was merely protecting my own skin as well as everyone else's.” He then returned Arutha's grin. “It was a rousing good fight.”
Arutha looked toward the sea once more. “Let us hope we can soon be done with rousing good fights.” He left the walls and started down the stairs. “Give orders to prepare for the attack.”
CARLINE STOOD ATOP the south tower of the keep, her arm around Roland's waist. The Squire was pale from his wound, but otherwise in hale spirits. “We'll be done with the siege, now the fleet's arrived,” he said, clinging tightly to the Princess.
“It has been a nightmare.”
He smiled down at her, gazing into her blue eyes. “Not entirely. There has been some compensation.”
Softly she said, “You are a rogue,” then kissed him. When they separated, she said, “I wonder if your foolish bravery was nothing more than a ploy to gain my sympathies.”
Feigning a wince, he said, “Lady, I am wounded.”
She clung to him. “I was so worried about you, not knowing if you lay dead in the tunnel. I . . .” Her voice dropped off as her gaze strayed to the north tower of the keep, opposite the one upon which they stood. She could see the window upon the second floor, the window to Pug's room. The funny little metal chimney, which would constantly belch smoke when he was at his studies, was now only a mute reminder of just how empty the tower stood.
Roland followed her gaze. “I know,” he said. “I miss him, too. And Tomas as well.”
She sighed. “That seems such a long time ago, Roland. I was a girl then, a girl with a girl's notion of what life and love were about.” Softly she said, “Some love comes like a wind off the sea, while others grow slowly from the seeds of friendship and kindness. Someone once told me that.”
“Father Tully. He was right.” He squeezed her waist. “Either way, as long as you feel, you live.”
She watched as the soldiers of the garrison prepared for the coming sortie. “Will this end it?”
“No, they will come again. This war is fated to last a long time.”
They stood together, taking comfort in the simple fact of each other's existence.
KASUMI OF THE Shinzawai, Force Leader of the Armies of the Kanazawai Clan, of the Blue Wheel Party, watched the enemy upon the castle wall.
He could barely make out the figures walking along the battlements, but he knew them well. He could not put names to any, but they were each as familiar to him as his own men. The slender youth who commanded, who fought like a demon, who brought order to the fray when needed, he was there. The black giant would not be too far from his side, the one who stood like a bulwark against every attack upon the walls. And the green-clad one, who could race through the woods like an apparition, taunting Kasumi's men by the freedom with which he passed their lines, he would be there as well. No doubt the broad-shouldered one was nearby, the laughing man with the curved sword and maniacal grin. Kasumi quietly saluted them all as valiant foemen, even if only barbarians.
Chingari of the Omechkel, the Senior Strike Leader, came to stand at Kasumi's side. “Force Leader, the barbarian fleet is nearing. They will land their men within the hour.”
Kasumi regarded the scroll he held in his hand. It had been read a dozen times since arriving at dawn. He glanced at it one more time, again studying the chop at the bottom, the crest of his father, Kamatsu, Lord of the Shinzawai. Silently accepting his personal fate, Kasumi said, “Order for march. Break camp at once and begin assembling the warriors. We are commanded to return to Kelewan. Send the trailbreakers ahead.”
Chingari's voice betrayed his bitterness. “Now the tunnel is destroyed, do we quit so meekly?”
“There is no shame, Chingari. Our clan has withdrawn itself from the Alliance for War, as have the other clans of the Blue Wheel Party. The War Party is once more alone in the conduct of this invasion.”
With a sigh Chingari said, “Again politics interferes with conquest. It would have been a glorious victory to take such a fine castle.”
Kasumi laughed. “True.” He watched the activities of the castle. “They are the best we have ever faced. We already learn much from them. Castle walls slanted outward at the plinth, preventing sappers from collapsing them, this is a new and clever thing. And those beasts they ride. Ayee, how they move, like Thûn racing across the tundras of home. I will somehow gain some of those animals. Yes, these people are more than simple barbarians.”
After a moment's more reflection, he said, “Have our scouts and trailbreakers keep alert for signs of the forest devils.”
Chingari spat. “The foul ones move in great number northward once more. They're as much a dagger in our side as the barbarians.”
Kasumi said, “When this world is conquered, we shall have to see to these creatures. The barbarians make strong slaves. Some may even prove valuable enough to make free vassals who will swear loyalty to our houses, but those foul ones, they must be obliterated.” Kasumi fell silent for a while. Then he said, “Let the barbarians think we flee in terror from their fleet. This place is now a matter for the clans remaining in the War Party, Let Tasio of the Minwanabi worry about a garrison at his rear should he move eastward. Until the Kanazawai once more realign themselves in the High Council, we are done with this war. Order the march.”
Chingari saluted his commander and left, and Kasumi considered the implications of the message from his father. He knew the withdrawal of all the forces of the Blue Wheel Party would prove a major setback for the Warlord and his party. The repercussions of such a move would be felt throughout the Empire for some years to come. There would be no smashing victories for the Warlord now, for with the departure of those forces loyal to the Kanazawai lords and the other clans of the Blue Wheel, other clans would reconsider before joining in an all-out push. No, thought Kasumi, it was a bold but dangerous move by his father and the other lords. This war would now be prolonged. The Warlord was robbed of a spectacular conquest; he was now overextended with too few men holding too much land. Without new allies he would remain unable to press forward with the war. His choices were now down to two: withdraw from Midkemia and risk humiliation before the High Council, or sit and wait, hoping for another shift in politics at home.
It was a stunning move on behalf of the Blue Wheel. But the risk was great. And the risk from the next series of moves in the Game of the Council would be even more dangerous. Silently he said: O my father, we are now firmly committed to the Great Game. We risk much: our family, our clan, our honor, and perhaps even the Empire itself.
Crumbling the scroll, he tossed it into a nearby brazier, and when it was totally consumed by flame, he put aside thoughts of risk and walked back toward his tent.