Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 (109 page)

A short while later, he knew the worst. Out of five thousand three hundred men in the camp, twenty-eight hundred had died. Six hundred were wounded, but might recover if they could be given food and shelter quickly enough. He didn’t know how many Corbin had left, if any, as the captain had failed to return. He might have fallen into an ambush, or he might be fine, whatever the situation with Corbin, he was in no position to help.

“Move the wounded to the beach, I want them aboard first. Keep a sharp eye for Corbin or the enemy. We have to get out of here fast. If they realise how few of us are left, they’ll come back quicker than they left.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Navarien saw Lewin limp by, “Lewin!”

“Sir?” Lewin stumbled to a stop. An arrow had taken him in the right leg early on in the fight.

“Where’s Meran?”

Lewin looked angry for a moment then all emotion fled. “Dying, Sir. I’m all that’s left of the third of the eighth. He’s over there by the fire.” He pointed to a smoldering heap of tent cloth that was all they had for fuel. “Might as well burn the fucking standard now! Ain’t that right,
Sir?
” Lewin spat on the ground at Navarien’s feet.

“He was one of the best,” he said sadly, ignoring the spittle close to his boot.

“We were all the best until you led us here!”

“That’s enough!” Duer shouted to the angry man.

Navarien waved the captain off. “Yes I led you here. We are legionnaires! We fight and we win, or we fight and we die, whichever it is, we
fight!
If you’re not prepared for the consequences, you should go home and be a farmer!”

Lewin turned and stalked away without a word. Duer made to grab the dispirited man but Navarien stopped him, and Lewin didn’t notice. He was so tired of marching and fighting, death would almost be a relief… almost. He went to check on Meran where he lay next to the makeshift fire. Duer matched his steps and gave his report.

“Corbin is on his way back, Sir. I made a rough count, he looks to have lost six hundred or so.”

“Good… that he’s coming in that is. We should just about fit aboard the ship don’t you think?” he said feeling sick. He had less than four battalions alive… less than two were able to fight.

“Just about. We heading back to Durena?” Duer said stepping around the wounded.

“Have to,” he said wearily. “We have no food and no one to heal the wounded. The sorcerers probably know what happened already; they’ll meet us there I should think.”

Navarien knelt beside Meran and pulled the blanket down.

“I’m all right, Sir,” Meran whispered.

Navarien found two arrow stubs in Meran’s side. He glanced at Duer, and then forced a smile. “I know, Meran. I just wanted to ask whether you would mind being a captain for me.”

“A captain?”

Navarien gritted his teeth. “I’m a little short of good officers. I know you don’t like the idea, but would you do it as a favour to me?”

“If you want me to…” Meran said then fell unconscious.

Navarien stood to let two of the men carry the unconscious sergeant…
captain
away.

Navarien went to meet Corbin on the beach. Corbin was grinning unaccountably as he and his men rode up and stopped in good order. Corbin looked for all the world as if he’d just been on a picnic with his latest girl. Couldn’t he see the wounded and dying awaiting transport to the ship? Didn’t he see the dead men lying in rows that wouldn’t have a decent burial because their General was scared the enemy would return?

“Get off that fucking horse!” Navarien roared in fury.

Corbin’s face froze in surprise. He dismounted and stood at attention. His men remained mounted looking angry at Navarien’s abuse of their Captain.

“Report!” he snarled.

Corbin became even stiffer if that was possible. “The Camorins are routed. I led my men within sight of the gates—they’re open and everyone is leaving. You have won, General. You have won an empty city. I hope you
choke
on it!”

Corbin stormed away, and his men dismounted to follow.

Navarien glanced aside at those of his men nearby. Most avoided his eyes. “Captain!” he shouted, and Corbin paused to listen. “I am…
pleased
with you and your men. You did the legion proud.”

Corbin nodded once at the apology and then walked away, but this time his steps were lighter.

Navarien turned to his men. “We’re staying!”

The men groaned, and hefted the baggage to trudge back toward the camp. They had to cross those flaming ditches again!

* * *

15 ~ Poor Robsort

Come the day of Julia’s proposed re-capture of Robsort’s vote for Gylaren, she chose to wear her special dress. The one that made her look even more ominous and powerful than a black robe would have. Black robes were associated with the Hasian sorcerers so she wouldn’t wear one, but black was the highest colour a mage could attain. She had asked Elise to recommend someone to make it for her. It was made to her design and was based on an evening dress she had once seen the Princess of Wales wearing to a premier of a movie. Lady Diana’s dress had been white satin, but Julia had chosen black to emphasise her complexion and her status as a sorceress. She had wanted the dress for Gy’s coronation, but she thought today was an appropriate debut. She had styled her hair to show the white streak like a badge of honour. She had fought and nearly died twice for Deva, it would do no harm to remind Robsort of that. Lucius said she looked very powerful and forbidding, which was, after all, the idea.

Mathius played lookout while Lucius helped her to block Robsort’s escape—there were only two ways into the garden.

*
He’s coming, but he’s not alone.
* Mathius said. *
He looks like a prisoner… What’s going on?
*

Julia grasped her magic and spoke mind to mind. *
I don’t know, Mathius, but it doesn’t change what we have to do. Do you recognise his escort?
*

*
They’re sorcerers. I can’t feel any spells, but they’re linked to their magic.
*

Lucius broke in. *
If they’re guarding Robsort, whether he’s a prisoner
or not, they will be holding their magic in readiness. How do you want to handle this, Julia?
*

*
We don’t have much choice. Robsort won’t be any good to us if they see us talking. I’ll deal with them, and you back me up. Mathius, you try to shield Robsort, but don’t take chances. I’ve lost enough friends to Mortain’s ambitions. I’m not prepared to lose you too.
*

*
That’s good to hear. I’m following well back. They will be with you in a tenth candlemark.
*

That was about five minutes or so. Julia used the time to move into the centre of the small garden to wait. She seated herself on the edge of the fountain’s basin and trailed her fingers through the water. The little silvery coloured fish swam around the central figure of the fountain unconcerned with human affairs. The garden was a pleasant place to walk during the height of the day. The sun, as now, would be overhead and shining directly into the garden. The grass was lush, and if it became too warm, the covered walkway connecting the two entrances was shady and had marble benches running along its length. Athione’s walled gardens didn’t have fountains. She wondered briefly how she could get some.

She felt something on the edge of her range that resolved into two and then three distinct sources of magic. The third source was the familiar solid feeling of Mathius link to his magic. He was hanging well back from the sorcerers for fear of being discovered. Julia didn’t move from her contemplation of the fish, but instead, concentrated on following the feel of power approaching. They were nearly here now, nearly…

“Lady Julia, help me!” Robsort cried.

The lord tried to run to her, but one of the Hasians grabbed his arm before he took a step. Both were dressed like guardsmen, and Julia cursed herself for not paying better attention. How many sorcerers were in the palace? Perhaps Ascol’s allies weren’t allies at all but were prisoners!

“Let him go,” she said coldly and rose to her feet.

The sorcerer pulled Robsort close as if to use him as a shield, but Mathius arrived at that moment and threw a ward around the frightened lord. That was what Julia had been waiting for. She grasped her magic and cast a fireball. Lucius did the same and both Hasians staggered back and away from Robsort’s cowering figure. Robsort had dropped to his knees and rolled into a ball trying to make himself as small as possible. Fireballs came back in reply, but Julia stood her ground and relied upon her shield. She flinched as the heat rushed over her, but the flames didn’t penetrate.

She struck back with lightning.

Craaaack!

Lightning lanced from her outstretched hand and hit the sorcerer’s shield squarely. The crackling energy barely hesitated as it burst through and struck him full in the chest. He was lifted from his feet and blown back toward Mathius, but he didn’t have to do anything. Half the sorcerer’s torso was missing. The second sorcerer was stronger, and it took all three of them to burn his shield down. A final bolt of lightning finished him just as his shield failed.

Julia looked down at the fountain sadly. The water in the basin was bubbling, and the pretty silver fish were all floating on the surface where they had been cooked instantly by the Hasian fireballs. Robsort was still cowering on his knees, but when Mathius dropped the ward, he scrambled to his feet and ran toward her.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I didn’t think you would ever come,” Robsort gabbled.

Julia scowled, she didn’t believe Robsort’s act. “My lord Robsort, you have some explaining to do. Why did you court Ascol after our conversation about Gylaren?”

Robsort was quiet, but when Lucius emerged and came toward them, he started talking. “I’m not a brave man, Lady, the God knows. When Lord Athlone threatened to burn my forests, I agreed to do what he wanted. You know I’m not a proper lord do you not?”

“I don’t understand you, Robsort. You’re a lord of Deva as far as I’m concerned.”

Robsort started to explain, but he was interrupted as guardsmen rushed in to the garden. Brian was in charge. Julia ordered him to remove the bodies.

“One more thing,” she called as Brian oversaw the removal. “The poor fish were cooked in the attack. Have someone replace them would you?”

“Ah… yes lady,” Brian said obviously wondering how he was going to find fish in Devarr that hadn’t been eaten.

Julia grinned. Brian went away shaking his head and muttering about women and mages. Julia invited Robsort to her rooms and waited until they were safely inside before continuing the conversation earlier interrupted.

“Now that we are more comfortable, Lord Robsort, I would appreciate it if you would explain what you meant earlier,” she said folding her hands in her lap to listen.

“It’s simple really. My grandfather was a merchant and not a lord at all. My home is a mansion house, not a castle. I do have a few guardsmen to run off bandits but few of the more usual trappings of nobility. My wealth is tied to the land. I have artisans living in Penola whose oaths I hold—they make furniture and such things out of fine wood from my lands. To be brutally honest, I’m nothing but a forester and merchant.”

“How did you become Lord Penola then?”

“In his youth my father helped Pergann with the masters in Chulym. Later that all turned into a disaster, but at the time Pergann was grateful and added Penola to the list of Devan lords.”

“I see,” she said with disapproval thick in her voice. “Athlone threatened to destroy your forests and therefore your wealth. So you became a traitor to Pergann and Deva.”

“It isn’t just about me!” Robsort cried in desperation. “Don’t you see? Without the forests, Penola would starve. All the wood comes from my lands, and without it my people would be unable to work. Worse than that, most of our meat comes from the deer in the forest. Rowton knows my weakness, as did Athlone before him. It’s plain to see for anyone with eyes. Even if I had a castle, I wouldn’t be able to stop one man in the night with oil and torches!”

That did put a different light on his actions. Robsort was protecting his people as much as himself—if he wasn’t lying about his motives. She turned to Lucius and received a reluctant nod.

“Very well,” Julia said. “You have my word that I will destroy the letters I’m holding for you, but I need your help in return. Your bodyguards were sorcerers. I need to know how many are in the palace, and whether they are holding other lords against their will?”

Robsort took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes. Yes, it’s time I became a lord for true. There are almost five score Hasians altogether, but I believe only thirty of them are mages—that’s how many are in the palace, so…” He shrugged. “I could be wrong, but I don’t think so. I know that Ascol himself is free, but I don’t know about the others.”

Thirty!
Julia gaped in utter shock. That was too many to confront directly. Two she could handle, perhaps four by surprise, but they knew she was here and would be ready. She cursed herself for a fool. She had warned the Hasians that she was coming for them by blasting two of their friends.

“You
are
a lord, Robsort. You were protecting your people as a good lord should. The point at which you strayed was when you chose their welfare above that of the kingdom. I can understand that, but nevertheless, what harms Deva will ultimately harm Penola.”

Robsort was silent, but he agreed with a reluctant nod.

She had to decide what to do about these Hasians. If she went around blasting them, the lords would condemn her as a lunatic. Somehow, she had to expose them as sorcerers and then destroy them.

“I could show you where they are, Lady,” said a voice from the door.

“How long were you listening?” Mathius said scowling at Lorcan.

“Long enough to know that you need what I’ve found, Mathius. Besides, you should have guardsmen out here. Anyone could be listening!”

“Someone was!”