Cry of the Newborn (60 page)

'That wasn't anything to do with the energy map. That's just what I think,' said Ossacer.

'Well, thank you for your insight into my mind.' 'True, though, isn't it?'

Jhered shifted and cleared his throat. 'I'm just not used to being around children, that's all.'

Damn the boy but he was accurate. That unease was much in evidence right now and the fact Ossacer could see it just made it worse. Jhered cast around for a change of subject. Away atop the Spine of Gestern, smudges of smoke reached high into the sky. At night, the blazes had studded the darkness; mute alarms that he still found himself staring at.

'Can you see the smoke?' he said, pointing away landwards.

Kovan and Arducius followed his hand. Ossacer curled his lip.

'What do you think?' he asked.

Jhered closed his eyes briefly, cursing himself a fool. 'Sorry, Ossacer.'

'It doesn't matter. What is it, anyway?' he asked. Good lad.

'As far as any of us can see from north to south along the mountains, the beacon fires are lit,' said Jhered. 'They are to call the citizens to order because the Conquord is invaded. I've been very happy to see them here. Gestern is remote.'

'What will happen, Exchequer Jhered?' asked Arducius.

'In Gestern or the Conquord?'

'Anywhere,' said Arducius.

'Well, in the wider Conquord I don't know. In Gestern, it means that the standing legions will muster. And when the orders reach them from Estorr, they, march. All the threat comes from the Atreskan border so we might find Kirriev Harbour very busy. At least, I hope we do. The citizens will all have to work for the war effort. There will be traders buying as much metal and raw materials as they can from Kark. There will be smiths, artillery makers, armourers
...
all have to do what the Conquord requires. People will watch the coasts. There is an emergency signalling system that the beacons are central to. And every man, woman and child who can, will be expected to bear arms on demand.'

Arducius shuddered and turned anxious eyes to him. Jhered continued.

'War is a terrible thing, violent and frightening. Whether you are on the front line and fighting, or in your home, wondering if the war will come to your doorstep. That's why we have to be ready. That's why everyone is taught about the beacons when they are at school. Sometimes the unthinkable happens. Like now.'

'Will it work, I wonder?' asked Kovan. 'My father has often said that because no'one believes we can fall, no one will pay attention to the alarms. Or even really know what they are for.'

'He said the same to me,' said Jhered, smiling. 'Mind you, he also said that he wasn't sure the tinderboxes would be dry at the beacon posts. But there are fires across Gestern and that gives me heart and hope. But we all have to do our part in war. Whatever we can to protect the place we live and the people we love.'

‘I
think you're lecturing us,' said Arducius.

'There are some things you can't hear too often, young man.'

Two days later, they rowed through the last deeps of the Kirriev Inlet and into the harbour. It bristled with activity. Through his magnifier, Jhered could see soldiers clogging the docks. Ships of the Gesternan navy were in port as well as those flying the flag of Estorea. That was no surprise. No doubt they had been carrying the orders to Marshal Defender Mardov. But it confirmed how careful he would have to be in getting the Ascendants off the ship.

He had no idea when Chancellor Koroyan would have reached Estorr on her return from Westfallen or what she would have said to the Advocate. It could have been in time to catch the ships and birds. One thing he did know was that his messages would not have got there in time to be worked in. It meant that every Conquord vessel and soldier, Order Reader and cavalryman, was a potential spy. At least Koroyan wouldn't have known he had the Ascendants when she reached Estorr. Just that they had escaped her clutches. Unfortunately, Gestern was a likely destination.

The Gatherer berth was empty. Wanting everything to appear as normal as it could under the circumstances, he ordered them dock there before ducking quickly below to speak to his charges.

'We have advantages,' he said. 'No one here can possibly know what you look like unless the Chancellor herself has decided to gamble and travel here. Something I would bet my reputation she has not done. You are on a Gatherer ship and in the company of the Exchequer. And believe me, my presence is enough to make people look the other way.

'But your eyes will always give you away. They set you apart and you know what being unusual does for you. So when we disembark, whether we have the Marshal's escort or not, you will keep your heads down. You will be surrounded by my people but on no account be tempted to lift your heads until I say it is safe to do so. We cannot risk someone seeing you. News travels too fast and I do not have enough swords to protect you.'

Up on deck, the skipper's orders sounded out as the ship approached dock. They could hear the hubbub and chaos of the dockside and the sloshing of water as oars were backed to slow and turn the trireme. He heard his name called.

'Right. Wait here until I call you up.'

He clattered back up the ladder and out into the cloudy morning once again. There were a pair of carriages and a chariot on the dockside waiting. All flew the colours of Gestern, a vibrant red background on which were depicted lions rampant either side of a snow-capped mountain. It was a legacy of their past under the rule of Kark. He nodded his pleasure. Katrin Mardov was waiting for them, her long brown hair blowing about her head.

‘I
had no idea I was due for accounting,' she called.

‘I
think I may give you a reprieve this once, Marshal,' he said. The gangplank slapped down. He turned to an appros. 'Bring the Ascendants. See that they keep their heads down.'

He trotted down on to the dockside, the concrete feeling strange and still after his time at sea. He greeted the Marshal with a salute which she returned. Mardov was a key Conquord loyalist. Gestern had prospered enormously under the empire's auspices and her family had fully embraced its framework. Respected throughout her own country and the wider Conquord, Katrin Mardov was a tall, slender woman in her middle years. She was an administrator, not a soldier, and was possessed of a keen mind. It was a mind that was ever being used to its fullest extent. She studied him with her soft brown eyes.

'Your message was rather cryptic, Paul,' she said. 'And it's not a common occurrence for you to bring cargo. Certainly not valuable cargo. Normally you're taking it away.'

Jhered smiled but knew the joke was forced. 'War changes most things, doesn't it?'

'So, get your cargo off. What is it? I've got other transport if it's bulky.'

'It's people, Katrin. Five of them.' He held up a hand. 'Trust me. Take us to your palace. I'll tell you all about it then.'

Chapter 50

848th cycle of God, 8th day of
Solasfall 15th year of the true Ascendancy

Pavel
Nunan, Master of Sword for the 2
nd legion, the Bear Claws of Estorr, met Roberto's army two days after they had crossed the fords at Scintarit and turned south to skirt the Toursan Lakelands on their way to Gestern. He had approached their marching camp on horseback late in the afternoon, riding pillion behind one of thirty of Master Kell's cavalry, and shadowed by Roberto's forward guard.

Kell had enveloped him in a long hug and brought him personally to Roberto's tent, where the next stage of their operation was being planned. Roberto stood for Nunan's salute before pointing him towards an empty stool among his command team.

'Sit, sit,' said Roberto. 'And help yourself to food.'

'Thank you, General,' said the sharp-featured Goslander.

Roberto studied him. The effects of a shoulder injury were still apparent in the way he carried himself and his uniform was a maze of repairs. But his breastplate and helmet were polished and in fine condition. The scabbard at his waist without doubt held a sharpened gladius.

'She found you. I knew she would.' Nunan looked fondly across at Kell.

'And so here we are,' said Roberto. 'How many are you?'

'We are still finding survivors from Scintarit,' said Nunan. 'Escapees from the Tsardon prisons, those who were lost in the Halorians or down towards the Toursan Lakelands whom we have contacted through our foragers and forward scouts. We'll never know how many are lost and never to be found. But we now have three thousand, four hundred and seventy-three, as of the day I left our camp. Many are not fit to fight. Some never will be. But we are
making a difference. We have been disrupting supply to Atreska though we are coming under increasing pressure from steppe cavalry who are patrolling the area from the Tarit Plain south to the fords.

'They'll know you are here and marching south and it will worry them. But I don't believe you will meet significant resistance until you reach Gestern or at the very earliest, cross the Atreskan border in the south.'

i don't understand,' said Davarov. if they know their supply lines are being raided, why do they guard them so inadequately? The one we took down could never have stood up to a concerted raid, whether they saw it coming or not.'

Nunan spread his hands. 'And in their overconfidence they are not unlike we were until very recently. I'm guessing but the fact that they marched so much of their army north, south and west suggests they are confident of victory despite supply disruptions. And that they have Atreska to supply them anyway.' He scanned those assembled in the tent, his eyes resting on the two Atreskans, Shakarov and Davarov. 'You don't know, do you?'

Roberto felt a sudden chill. 'Know what?'

'The supply train you attacked. I'm surprised it was crossing Scintarit at all. We haven't seen one for twenty days. We had assumed any reinforcement would be diverted north or south, particularly because of our presence here. And because they don't need to supply their armies in Atreska.'

'What are you talking about?' demanded Shakarov.

'Atreska has turned,' he said. 'They fight with the Tsardon, not against them.'

Davarov and Shakarov were on their feet in an instant. Kell and Nunan followed them, she standing in front of him. 'You lie,' spat Shakarov.

Nunan faced him evenly. 'Strike me for a liar if you believe it. But I have been here trying to stay alive for over fifty days, with Tsardon around every bend of every path and river. I'm here because I believe I must gather all the information I can and disrupt the supply as best I can. And I have seen with my own eyes the flags of old Atreska flying on every fort along the border. I have seen Tsardon standing on their battlements with their Atreskan allies.' He pushed Kell aside. 'Strike me for a liar.'

Roberto didn't look at them. The ramifications of what he had just heard were falling through his mind like rock from a mountainside. He kneaded his forehead with his left hand.

'Sit down, sit down. All of you.' He waited until he heard seats being retaken. 'Good. Now, I understand the emotions but we've been here before, haven't we?' He looked meaningfully at his Atreskan commanders. 'Please, let us think about this in a balanced way. Half the citizens outside this tent are Atreskans. And what Nunan has said affects them all.'

'How far have your scouts penetrated my country?' growled Shakarov.

'All the way to Haroq City,' said Nunan. 'The flags are flying on Yuran's towers.'

Shakarov and Davarov were both hunched forwards. Big strong men, both of them, but both with eyes that shone damp in the lantern light.

'There must be resistance,' said Davarov quietly.

'Yes,' said Nunan. 'Throughout the country as far as we have seen. There is good news within the gloom, my friends. It is easy to cross the border if you are a native Atreskan and I have plenty with me from the Rogue Spears who remain loyal to the Conquord. We have had contact with legions fighting a rearguard all the way to the Neratharnese border. Across the country, loyalists strike at them but their numbers are overwhelming and Yuran's legions are with them. The Conquord forces cannot hope to stem the advance and the fact of the civil war played into our enemy's hands. For every citizen who would strike them down, there are three who will feed and heal them.'

'Is it organised, this resistance?' asked Roberto.

'Barely,' said Nunan. 'But if the rumours are right, General Gesteris is there, somewhere in the south-west. We are going to find and join him. Take the fight back to the Tsardon at Neratharn. Reform the Bear Claws.'

Davarov turned to Roberto. 'General. Roberto. Please, we must join this fight. We still have eleven thousand in our force. We can break them.'