Cry of the Newborn (101 page)

They broke surface and Jhered breathed in a huge gasp of cold fresh air. He gagged and coughed, his body in spasm. Mirron had let him go and was swimming round him protectively. He tried to thank her but only coughed up more water. All he could do was lie on his back, exhausted.

'I couldn't hold on to you,' he said. 'You came back for me.'

'I couldn't let you die down there. I couldn't let you go.'

He must have faded out of consciousness because the next thing he knew was a sensation of warmth. He heard wood creak and the sound of oars in the water. He opened his eyes again, wondering if everything below the water had been a dream. But it wasn't. Mirron was stroking his hair. She looked like she'd been crying. There was a man's tunic about her shoulders.

He was lying in the bottom of an open boat. Against his back, he felt harsh slats and he pushed himself up on to his elbows. It was an Ocenii corsair. The man at the tiller stared directly ahead, a scowl on his face.

Jhered let Mirron help him into a seated position. They weren't the only pieces of flotsam to have been dragged from the water. Up towards the bow, Arducius was lying out flat with Ossacer near him. Jhered could barely contain his delight. Ossacer had his hands on Ardu's legs. His face was lined and grey from his Work. But he was alive.

'My but it's difficult to kill you lot,' said Jhered. 'How is he?'

'He'll live,' said Ossacer. He breathed in hard. 'He's exhausted and something broke one of his legs. It was lucky I kept hold of him.'

He turned and threw his arms around Jhered's neck. 'We thought we'd lost you, Paul.'

'I did too, Ossie. I did too.'

He held Ossacer for a long time before letting him go and nodding his head back to the tiller. 'Thank you,' he said.

'Can't have you freezing to death, Exchequer Jhered,' he said. 'You have me at a disadvantage.'

'Karl Iliev. Ocenii squad seven. We found all of you in the same area. Can't understand why any of you are still alive.'

Jhered's stomach lurched and his delight was gone. 'But we lost so many. Poor Kovan. I should have taken that javelin. Too old, too slow.'

Mirron put a hand to his face. 'If he hadn't died then, he would have drowned. There was no one down there to save him.'

Jhered nodded. 'But he saved you. I always knew his courage would show.'

Mirron's head dropped. She didn't fight against the tears. 'Who was he?' asked Iliev.

'The son of Arvan Vasselis, Marshal Defender of Caraduk. A lad who has great potential. Had.'

Iliev nodded. 'This display of your doing, was it?'

Jhered shrugged. 'In a manner of speaking. Arducius is the architect though.'

'I suppose we should thank you but . . .'

'It's all right,' said Ossacer. 'We understand.'

Jhered pulled him close once more.

'Come on, Neristus, make this your best shot.'

Roberto rode hard down towards the left flank where Davarov still fought hard among his exhausted infantry but they were all flagging. The cavalry had wheeled for yet another tired pass and that was the signal the engineer had been awaiting. Ten stones whistled by overhead. Roberto heard his tutor speaking to him as if it was yesterday.
Never fire on your own people. Never demonstrate that you care nothing for them. No matter how desperate, never he tempted.

He saw people running from the ramparts. 'The Omniscient spare them. And God help me if this goes wrong.'

The stones fell, plunging into the back of the Tsardon attack on the wall and battering into the stockade wood at its centre point. Roberto punched the air.

'Again, Rovan!' he shouted though Neristus wouldn't hear him.

Ahead, Davarov had seen the stones fall. The triarii surged into one last desperate assault, taking the Tsardon by surprise. Confusion fed through them and into the mess came Cartoganev. He broke through on the far left and an infantry maniple drove in after him. Roberto prayed for the breach to hold. There were great dents in the stockade wall. The rampart was clear. Behind, Neristus would be adjusting some of his trajectories. He fired again. This time every shot fell on the heads of the Tsardon.

Cartoganev continued his attack. Davarov took the triarii further in. A maniple turned to block enemy support from the right. Three more battered their way to the wall. In front of them, the Tsardon were falling back in disarray. The Conquord had broken them. The onager rounds had savaged Tsardon defender and attacker alike and they weren't going to stand and wait for more.

Already, Roberto could see more enemy running around from the back of the stockade to block the breach. In turn his hastati, his weary but extraordinary hastati, pushed harder. He heard horns sounding from behind the stockade. Not Tsardon, Conquord. The remaining levium clattered into the back of the enemy ahead of Davarov. The battle began to turn again. The stockade was smothered in smoke and flame but inside enough would be standing rested and ready to fight.

One panel of the stockade behind Davarov came down, folding outwards to slap on to mud and bodies. Gesteris's legions surged out, spreading round to bolster Cartoganev and to provide flank for Davarov. Roberto felt his heart warm. The enemy were rippling, unsure.

'Harder, Conquord,' he bellowed, galloping down behind the lines. 'We have them on the turn.'

Horns. Horns from every quarter. From the engineers, the principes, the triarii and God-surround-them, from the surgeons. Roberto knew what it must mean. He swung in his saddle and stared up at the Gaws. The great gold and white banner snapped at the mast, reflecting the firelight and shining out.

Estorr was secure.

Every Conquord throat howled celebration and took up Davarov's song. Energy flowed through aching muscles. Swords fell faster and harder. Bewildered, the enemy had no response. Neristus dropped more stones and bolts in their midst. From the gates, Tsardon spilled out backwards. There was fighting again in the gatehouse.

'We're going to do it,' said Roberto, listening to the song roll over him. Tears stood in his eyes. 'We've won. I don't believe it, we've won.'

Jhered directed the corsair to the Gatherer berths. The dockside was thronged with Estoreans come to welcome the victorious fleet into port. The Advocate was there in the centre of it all, taking cheers and waving at her citizens. She applauded every ship that was announced by the horns at the harbour entrance.

It meant Jhered could dock at the extremity of the harbour almost unnoticed. Almost. There were people running down the dockside.

People who should know better than to be so undignified. How they were there he didn't know but the Echelon were in Estorr, there to greet their loved ones. The children who had saved the Conquord from destruction.

Jhered had Arducius in his arms. The boy was barely conscious, his pain dulled by Ossacer who had a hand on his body and was flooding him with anaesthetising energy. Mirron stood ready, tired but unable to contain her excitement at those she saw approaching. The corsair nudged home and marines leaped out to tie her off.

'Thank you, Commander,' Jhered said. 'You have done a service greater than you know.'

Iliev only nodded and the eyes of the crew followed the Ascendants while they left the boat. Jhered heard prayers.

The Echelon enveloped them. Tears, laughter and unrestrained joy exploded all around him. He kept them away from Arducius, refusing to let him go. He would walk the boy all the way to the palace if he had to. He'd seen enough, he needed rest. God-surround-him, they all did.

Too quickly, the excitement subsided. The two missing boys were a void that stole laughter and stilled celebration. In all the wild commotion consuming the harbour, Jhered felt alone in the middle of a chasm of silence. Vasselis was marching down the path towards them, guards surrounding him. The Echelon opened to let him pass. Mirron was talking to Meera. Gorian's mother. She was too stunned even to cry. Jhered wondered what Mirron was telling her.

But most of their questions had been aimed at him. He had answered as best he could, keeping from them the worst, saying only what he must. To Arvan Vasselis, though, he had to say not a word. Vasselis knew. The expression on Jhered's face told him everything. Vasselis swallowed hard and took in the three Ascendants.

'You got three of them back, then,' he said. 'Well done, Paul. It was more than any of us dared hope.'

'Arvan, I'm so sorry. Kovan died a hero of the Conquord. He took a javelin meant for Mirron. He saved her.'

Vasselis even managed a smile. 'If he had to die, then that is the most fitting reason.' He clamped his lips together against their quivering. It was a time before he could continue. 'I'm glad you were there. I'm glad he didn't die alone.'

Jhered would have embraced him but for Arducius in his arms. Here, amid the cheers, Vasselis's heart was broken. He made no attempt to hide the tears that dripped from his cheeks.

'Come on,' said Jhered. 'It's time we got these children somewhere warm.'

They walked from the dockside, happy to let the incoming Ocetanas deflect the attention of the city away from its true saviours.

'What's this,' said a voice thick with hate. 'Evil entering the heart of the Conquord?'

Jhered raised his head from Arducius's pale and sick features. The Chancellor had emerged from the crowd, bodyguards either side of her. The Echelon stopped moving. Vasselis tensed and drew himself upright.

'Back off, Felice,' said Jhered. 'This is not the time or the circumstance for your poison. You will leave these Ascendants alone.'

'They will never be left alone,' said the Chancellor. 'Every breath they take is an affront to the Omniscient. But only three, I see. At least that is one less to plague us. And Vasselis, why is your son not with them? I told you God would extract a heavy price. His blood is on your hands.'

Vasselis started to go for his sword. The Chancellor's bodyguards moved a pace forwards. But none of them saw Hesther. Jhered could feel all the pent-up rage, frustration and injustice behind that slap. The Chancellor's head snapped back and right, a deep red mark growing on her cheek. Her lip was split.

'You stupid, stupid woman,' spat Hesther. 'How dare you? How
dare
you speak of our children like that? But for them you would have a Tsardon dagger in your heart. And I would have cheered it as it plunged in.' The Chancellor balled a fist at her side. 'What are you going to do, strike me like you did Father Kessian. Coward.'

'Enough,' barked Jhered. 'Felice, get out of my way. If I have to put this child down to make you, I will not stop at a slap across your cheek.'

'Come on,' said Vasselis, his voice lifeless. 'Too much breath has been wasted already. And none of us knows when one more will be our last.'

The Tsardon horns had sounded the retreat within an hour of the critical breakthrough. The enemy commander had done well to stop them routing but he knew his situation was fast becoming hopeless. There was nothing better than new belief to turn a battle. The two sides had parted and resorted to jeering at each other across a distance of a couple of hundred yards while Roberto met his opposite number in the centre of the no-man's-land, along with General Gesteris. All that remained was to give the Tsardon a chance to withdraw.

'You fought a brave battle,' said the Tsardon. 'You will make a fine ruler of your Conquord one day.' 'We have one already.'

The commander shook his head. 'She has made a grave mistake. She invaded Tsard. We will not be taken. It's a shame so many had to die to prove it.'

'It is the way of great empires to seek to expand. It has been the making of the Conquord and your Kingdom.' Roberto managed a smile. 'But I doubt we will be setting foot on your territory again for quite sometime.'

'A wise choice. And Atreska?'

'Atreska, we will take back. Atreska is ours. I would advise your king not to maintain a force there. You will be attacked. Just as I advise you to withdraw now. Leave your weapons and my territory. I do not wish to order more death on you.'

The Tsardon commander eyed him for a time. 'And the rebel Atreskans?'

'Can sit inside their borders and live in fear of the day we return.'

He surprised Roberto by laughing. 'You have courage and you have fire. We should be allies, the Conquord and the Kingdom. Not enemies. Perhaps one day we can sit at a table as friends, General Del Aglios.'

'Don't look to my arrival any day soon,' he said. 'You will withdraw?'

The commander inclined his head. 'The season is cold. Only a fool steps across his threshold when the snows come.'