Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 (159 page)

He watched the men in each maniple pair off and begin a thrust and parry drill. Designed to be used while afoot, it represented the quickest way to kill the enemy. Later the sergeants would introduce other variations, but not until the men became proficient with this drill. He walked among the sweating men giving a word of encouragement here, a critique of posture there. He stopped a pair of men at random and taking the wooden sword in hand, he demonstrated the correct manner to accomplish a parry without opening himself to the enemy.

“Do you see it?” he asked the men.

“You stopped the move before going too wide?”

“That’s it exactly. Keep your moves economical and while your enemy is still bringing his weapon back toward you, lunge forward and thrust the sword into his centre. Always try for the centre. If you’re off slightly you will still wound him badly.”

Jihan handed the blade to the recruit and stepped back to watch. Both men would be dead the instant they attacked anyone for real, but that wouldn’t always be so. There was a decided improvement and the concentration on both their faces said they were trying hard. With time and practise, the sword would become second nature to them.

He moved on trying to spread a little encouragement and knowledge at the same time. He was still undecided whether to teach them the lance. True, it was an outdated weapon, but it could still be deadly in the charge. The problem though was accuracy. The lance took years to learn well, and until then, a man was more likely to injure himself or his horse than the enemy. He didn’t know why he was debating really. His decision had been made for him when Gylaren stated a two year deadline for training. Time was something he had little of, and he was determined to use it wisely. The lance was out, but to be on even terms with the legions the javelin had to be in.

Second battalion was trying, and so far failing, to impress him with its expertise with the javelin. As with most things, some were better than others. A row of rings representing an enemy formation was set up one hundred yards away. The drill consisted of every man in a maniple running in a line and casting javelins aimed to land inside the circles. After the cast was complete, they peeled off to each side and the next maniple ran in and cast its javelins. Jihan had ordered the men to wear their armour and weapons so they would become accustomed to the weight. Throwing a javelin was hard to do encumbered by armour. It was well that they became used to it now.

Third battalion was practising horsemanship with the usual results. Utter chaos. The captains and sergeants were screaming imprecations and almost frothing at the mouth. When they realised their lord had seen them they became red faced with embarrassment. He made no move toward them to their evident relief. He knew it would take time.

Fourth battalion was training with the bow. The legions did not have permanent bowmen. They relied on javelins for range, and swords for close in. Jihan had learned from Shelim and others that Navarien had been experimenting with clan bows, but whether he used them or not, the Devan army would. Jihan had given a great deal of thought to the composition of this army. Sword, shield, and javelin were the basic tools necessary to fight the legions, but parity was not acceptable. He wanted the army to win its battles handily, and not by the skin of its teeth. The God forbid it should lose altogether.

Magic was the problem.

Deva had few mages as did Tanjung, and Japura had none at all. Conversely, the Protectorate had them in abundance. He had wrestled with the problem long into the night trying to see a way to beat the legion’s winning combination without success. As far as he could see, the only way to stop the legions without magic was to make their losses so high that taking Deva became prohibitively expensive. With that in mind, he set about training every man to use the bow. He wasn’t looking to make them all marksmen, but he would see to it they could at least hit what they aimed at most of the time. Ten thousand arrows in the air at one time should give the legions something to think about.

Lastly, there was Fifth Battalion. Fighting unarmed seemed a strange thing to be teaching men who would be up against the Protectorate in a few years, but Jihan felt the exercise was worth it for all of that. Besides, he didn’t have enough horses or bows to teach the fifth those things just yet. The battalion would have to wait its turn. In the meantime, they were learning the best way for an unarmed man to defend against an armed opponent in various situations. He thought the idea of unarmed combat a good one. The clans had given him the idea when he saw a boy practising with his father. War had been a stranger to the clans—well mostly anyway. Feuds and raids were common, but nothing that came close in scale to real war. Clan warriors liked fighting, and they often contested with each other. The victor gained honour while the vanquished gained valuable lessons and a good story. Contests between clans were a little more serious. Challenges could lead to blood or even death, but with shamen on hand to heal injuries deaths were rare.

“They’re looking good my lord.”

Jihan nodded absently and turned to see Captain Echion watching the sword work.

“Better than I had hoped certainly, but they have a long way to go.”

“I have a message from lady Ahnao, my lord. She said you should come at once.”

“The babe!” Jihan said already trotting to his horse.

“No! I’m sorry my lord. I should have said. The lady is well. We have visitors at the fortress.”

Jihan throttled the anger that suddenly blazed up at Echion. He was angrier with himself for losing control than he was with Echion. He never lost control. Being impassive was useful to a lord; it was something he had needed badly as a child. His perceived lack of emotion had set back more than one would-be tormentor.

“Visitors?” he said taking Jezy’s reins from one of his recruits.

“Bishop Gideon with escort, my lord. He insisted he speak with you and lady Ahnao.”

“I see.”

It would be good to speak with Gideon again, but where was the urgency? Surely Gideon could wait until this evening? Whatever the reason he had better see to it.

“Stay here and take charge,” Jihan said pulling himself into the saddle. “Third battalion needs watching. Their horsemanship is atrocious.”

Echion grinned and nodded.

Jihan turned and rode through the gate. The fortress wasn’t far so he contented himself with a canter. No need to gallop, and besides it would give the impression he was worried. Thinking about worrying seemed to conjure it forth. What if Keverin was in trouble and needed him? His duty was clear; the King had given him a commission to train his armies. To fail in that would be dishonourable and therefore unacceptable, but Keverin was his friend. Maybe he should send Echion with a strong contingent of cavalry. Yes, he could do that. Malcor’s resources were stretched thinner than usual—he had guardsmen training the recruits, and strong patrols further out than normal keeping prying eyes away from the camp, but he could still send two thousand. Yes, two thousand fully equipped guardsmen would see Keverin safely out of Camorin.

Upon entering the fortress, he found Athione guardsmen caring for their mounts. All came to attention when he entered the courtyard until their sergeant ordered them back to work. It was obvious they had orders to continue on their way. None had yet washed the dust off themselves.

Jihan dismounted and handed his reins to one of his men. He recognised many of Kev’s men, but the sergeant wasn’t one he knew. The man was perhaps fifty if he was any judge. Wide in the shoulders yet short with it, he still managed to lead men twice his height and half his age. A good man to have around was the thought that went through his mind as the sergeant came forward to report.

“I hear you delivered Bishop Gideon to me,” Jihan said. “Is anything amiss, sergeant?”

The sergeant looked as if he wanted to spit but he restrained himself. “I’m Mikkel, m’lord. I was ordered to say that all is going well, and you’re not to be worrying.”

“Ah? And what is the truth of the matter?”

The sergeant grinned weakly. “The truth is that m’lord Keverin is worried. The chiefs plan to attack head on and they won’t see our side.”

By
our side,
Mikkel meant attacking using tactics such as night assaults on the legion camp by stealth, or any number of other things that smacked of sneaking and subterfuge—anything but head on.

“Have the clans engaged yet?”

“Not before I was ordered out my lord, but it will be any day now.”

Jihan nodded. If not today, it would be soon he had no doubt. Mikkel would not have been sent if things weren’t about to come to a head. “From your preparations, I assume you’re headed back out. Where to?”

“To Athione, m’lord. I have orders for Captain Marcus and some packages to deliver. Gideon has a present for him and a few others.” Mikkel grinned, “There’s one for you from the Lady as well m’lord.”

“Oh?”

“I can’t tell you, m’lord, it’s a secret.”

A secret? Trust Julia to swear the man to secrecy. It was probably a new bow.

“Carry on then,” he said and made his way into the citadel.

Jihan thought he should change before anything else so he made his way to his rooms. As he walked, he absently wondered what his present was. Clan bows were rare away from the plains. They were the perfect weapon to use from a charging horse, which is how the clans used it more often than not. He remembered that grim night in Brai almost three years ago. That night had been full of blood and pain. If he had owned a clan bow, he might have come out lighter than he did. He was struck twice by arrows and nearly died. Then again, if he hadn’t been injured so seriously he might not have come to know Ahnao. Pain was a small price to pay for his lady and child.

Thoughts of Ahnao and the babe had him smiling as he strode through the citadel. He didn’t notice, but the guardsmen reacted to that smile with one of their own as he walked by. They knew their lord in all of his moods; many had known him as a child when he had haunted the citadel like a thunderstorm waiting to happen. His smiling was good to see, especially so considering its rarity.

Jihan threw off his armour and shirt to bathe. He hurried as he could, but it wouldn’t do to greet any visitor filthy from the parade ground let alone a priest of the God. When he was done he pulled on a blue silk shirt, Ahnao liked him in blue, and then checked himself in the mirror. Everything was fine. He hurried to the women’s quarter where he was sure he would find Ahnao entertaining Gideon. He knocked upon the door separating the women’s quarter from the rest of the citadel and it opened immediately to reveal Aleeza. She smiled at him and stepped back to let him in.

Jihan inclined his head. “I thank you Lady.”

Aleeza smiled her thanks of the courtesy and closed the door. He knew the fortress intimately including the women’s quarter, but he waited for her to lock the door and escort him. As expected, she showed him to Ahnao’s rooms. He entered to find Gideon seated opposite his consort by the windows. The sunlight streamed in to dazzle Jihan, but then Ahnao always dazzled him.

“Welcome to Malcor, my Lord Bishop,” Jihan said as he crossed the room.

Gideon climbed to his feet and made the sign of the God—the circle drawn in the air representing the cycle of birth to rebirth. “Bless you and your home my lord.”

Jihan inclined his head in thanks for the blessing and after kissing Ahnao chastely on the cheek, he followed Gideon’s example by seating himself.

“I was just saying that this war in the north might very well spill over into Deva. Perhaps your lady would be safer at Athione.”

“We have discussed that very thing,” Jihan said. “If things go badly, which they very well might, Ahnao has agreed to visit Purcell at Elvissa. Didn’t you my love?”

“Yes my husband,” Ahnao said demurely, but the look she gave him said there would be repercussions for bringing her agreement up again.

Jihan continued. “I think Elvissa is the more prudent destination, especially when considering who and what we are fighting.”

Gideon raised an eyebrow. “You think Athione would fall, even though it has bested the Protectorate once before?”

“Julia is the reason—the only reason—that Athione still stands. If Navarien reaches here then in my opinion she will already be dead. Without her aid, Deva must succumb. It will take a year, more probably two, before the lords are brought to heel but it will happen.”

“What of the new army?”

“As to that, I believe they will inflict heavy casualties on the Hasians and perhaps even slow them, but stop them? No. The kingdom has been ill led for too long to be able to withstand the might of the Protectorate. Had Pergann done twenty years ago what Keverin did with his library seven years ago, we might have had enough mages to hold the sorcerers off. As things stand today, we will need a miracle.”

“I will pray for one,” Gideon said seriously.

“Pray hard. Pray very hard, and hope that Julia survives.”

“Well,” Ahnao said breaking the sombre mood they had all fallen into. “Tell us all your news, Gideon. You said something about a man named Demophon?”

Jihan started at that name. Demophon was a sorcerer, the very one who had kidnapped Julia in fact, but he died at Mathius’ hands in Devarr last year.

“Yes Demophon,” Gideon in a musing tone. “It was quite a shock learning that he was alive. As a man of the God I must decry violence in any form, but I admit to some unworthy thoughts where that man is concerned. Mathius was particularly upset, and of course the others heard and well, the obvious happened.”

“Please go on with your story father,” Ahnao said eagerly. “Was Julia very angry? I wager she was.”

“No…” Gideon said thoughtfully. “No she wasn’t. She was afraid if anything.”

Ahnao gasped in disbelief. “Julia’s not afraid of anything!”

“That is where you are wrong, my child. Everyone fears something, whether it’s a person, or the loss of someone close to them, there’s always something. Julia has many things in her past that she feared, but each time she overcame them despite it. If you asked her, I’m sure she would deny her courage, but that does not change the fact she has it.”