Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 (148 page)

There it stood—empty!

“The King said spring; well it’s spring. Where are the recruits he promised to send? If I’ve built all that for nothing I’ll—” Jihan broke off frowning.

Lady Ahnao smiled. Her consort was loyal beyond question. There was not much he could say or do if the King decided not to send the promised men.

“They will come, Jihan. When they do, you’ll be run off your feet wishing you had never seen them!”

Jihan chuckled and gave his lady a gentle squeeze. He was always very careful with her. Even though he knew her to be a strong woman, he treated her as if she might break. Her pregnancy had only emphasised his care.

Arm in arm they descended the steps and made their way through the corridors until reaching a pleasant little room that faced east into the sun. Jihan saw her safely seated then poured two glasses of a richly scented wine. She grimaced behind his back, but smiled when he turned to proffer the glass.

He sat close beside her and drank his wine. Ahnao took a small sip then placed the glass well away on the side table. Her stomach was still queasy even after six moons of pregnancy. The healer said it was normal and gave her some herbs to eat, but they didn’t help very much.

“Do you think Julia will come home soon?” she asked, trying to take her mind off her stomach. She was hoping that her friend would reassure her that the babe was all right.

“I doubt it. Keverin was of the opinion she would return with him immediately she was well, but we both know Julia wouldn’t have done that.”

Ahnao sighed. Julia was known throughout Deva as the Sorceress of Athione and the saviour of Devarr, but she was also known for sacrificing her own wants to help those she considered friends. With the Hasians in the north, it would be very hard for her to turn her back on her new friends within the clans.

“Will she win?” Ahnao asked intently. If the answer was no, Malcor would soon be under siege by General Navarien.

Jihan was silent as he considered the question. She waited patiently for her answer preferring a well thought out response to glib reassurances.

“Possibly,” Jihan said finally. “Navarien is good by all accounts, but the clans still outnumber him. The problem is the clans don’t fight in the same way as the legions take for granted. A well led legion can destroy three times its own numbers. If their enemy is ill led and undisciplined, even more.”

That was about what she had expected. “What of magic?”

Jihan took a swallow of wine before answering. “I only know what I have witnessed myself where magic is concerned. Julia is unbelievably strong according to Lucius and Mathius, but to defeat the numbers said to be opposing her? I doubt she can. The shamen will even things up, but according to Petya they are not warriors and by tradition they do not fight. Without shamen to hold off the sorcerers, the clans will be destroyed.”

Ahnao shivered at Jihan’s bleak but matter of fact tone. What would her son do in a future where the Protectorate ruled?

“What will we do when Navarien comes?” she whispered. She no longer doubted the day was approaching.

“What we can. I will attack when that’s possible; defend when that is necessary. I’ll not allow a siege if I can avoid it, but I probably won’t be able to. Long before then you and our child will be at Athione.”

“Oh we will, will we?” Ahnao said angrily. “Just how were you intending to send me there? Will you turn me out of my home? Because that’s what you will have to do!”

Jihan tried to pull her into his arms but she would have none of it. She bounced to her feet and chose an armchair to sit in where he couldn’t coax her into agreeing.

“Now Ahnao, don’t be like that,” Jihan pleaded.

“Like what?”

“You know very well like what!”

Ahnao blinked. Jihan must be very worried. He was always the perfect gentleman with her or any woman come to that. She listened quietly as he went on.

“—or daughter to the cursed Hasians! I’ll not have it! My son will live to be Lord Malcor and so will his son after him!”

“But you just said—”

Jihan held up a hand to silence her. “If it comes to that. When or if it comes to that, you will
obey
me!”

She bit her lip. She wanted to argue but knew it would do no good. He was scaring her with his talk of the next lord Malcor. Jihan and she had many more years together! She had to believe that.

“Athione is more defensible,” Jihan was saying. “But perhaps Elvissa would be better. Yes, if she falls, Purcell can retreat into Tanjung to continue the fight.”

“You’re talking as if we’ve already lost!”

“Not at all,” Jihan said with a smile for her. “I have told you of my training, Ahnao, and you know me better than anyone. I look at all the possibilities and try to choose the best one for victory. Because I do this, does not mean I am unaware of the possibility of defeat. Sending you and our child to Purcell is a precaution.”

“A precaution? When will you know if it changes to a necessity?”

Jihan shrugged. “Who can say? If the clans defeat Navarien, none of this will be necessary. If I stop them short of the border, then none of this is necessary. One thing is necessary however, you will be on your way to Elvissa the moment I know a siege is inevitable.”

“All right,” she said faintly.

She would die without him, but she would not disobey him when doing so might risk their son’s life.

* * *

A few days after his conversation with Ahnao, Jihan had visitors. Senior Captain Echion came to him with the news.

Echion was a good captain for Malcor. He was well respected by the men and an old hand with the guardsmen’s life. He had been that very rare commodity: an honest sergeant during Athlone’s lordship of Malcor. When Jihan turned the cronies out of the fortress, Echion was raised.

Since then the man had overseen the construction of the training camp while Jihan accompanied Keverin to Denpasser. When he saw how good a job Echion had done, he promoted him to senior captain on the spot, a post that had remained empty from Jihan’s father’s time as lord. Echion had proven well able to cope with his new position. As Malcor’s senior captain, he was second in authority to Jihan himself.

Jihan continued the lunge he was practising, but a moment later he called hold. Niall smiled in rueful relief. He was grateful for the respite. All of the men were in good shape, but Niall was sweating heavily and obviously needed a break. Jihan always needed three or four partners when he practised. He found it too easy to become accustomed to a particular man’s style; as a result, he would begin anticipating his opponent’s moves. That was no way to train, hence the partner changes.

He dried what little sweat there was upon his face and Echion took the opportunity to approach.

“We have visitors my lord,” Echion said slowly.

Jihan smiled. The man had spoken slowly and deliberately. He was trying hard not to allow his peasant origins to show. He was still new to his position and was not yet confident enough to speak at a normal pace. It was all foolishness of course, but the men expected it. All guardsmen had a peasant background of course. They were recruited from the towns and villages nearby, not from the nobles. In Jihan’s opinion, that was a cursed good thing. He had met the other lords of Deva just last year and found most of them to be useless for anything except looking pretty, and he was less inclined to hold himself aloof than most noblemen. His lady had been a peasant living in the nearby town of Brai, a fact the lords had made plain they disapproved of. He couldn’t care less.

“Go on.”

“Lord Dylan’s party will arrive at midday. He has the recruits with him.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. Dylan was the heir to the throne. It was something of a surprise to hear that he was escorting the recruits personally.

“How do they look? The recruits I mean.”

“About as you would expect, my lord, though I confess to some surprise. Delin reports they’re marching in formation. Apparently they aren’t as good as they could be, but when I questioned that, Delin admitted he was impressed with the effort they were putting in.”

Jihan nodded. That boded well for his training efforts. If the new men were motivated it would be that much easier to turn them into legionnaires—the first legionnaires for the first legion in Deva’s history.

“How many would you say there are?”

Echion shrugged. “Not near enough to build a legion my lord. Delin estimates around three thousand recruits with roughly another hundred or so guardsman under royal colours.”

Royal colours meant they were marching under the crescent moon. That was to be expected with Dylan leading; he was the heir to the throne and therefore entitled to ride under the crescent moon alone.

Jihan dismissed Echion and his sparring partners and went to change. He found Ahnao overseeing preparations for greeting Dylan so he left her to that and made sure the camp was ready for its new inhabitants. The storerooms had food enough, but the racks intended for weapons and sets of armour were bare. It was a worry, but again the King had promised supplies would be forthcoming. Until they did, he would have to use weapons from the fortress, which meant some of his own men would go without. That would cause an unacceptable drop in Malcor’s strength, but what could he do? He had to make a decision now that some of the recruits were here. He would reduce patrols south, east, and west, while doubling them to the north where the true danger lay. That way, he would free up men to train the recruits and weapons for them to use as well.

At midday, Jihan was standing just outside the doors to the citadel with Ahnao on his arm waiting to greet Dylan. Echion was nearby and would be taking charge of the recruits for the first few days. Jihan would rather be doing that than playing host to royalty, but his duty was clear. He was always careful to do his duty.

Dylan finally appeared riding through the gates flanked by his captain and guardsmen. Thank the God he had sense enough to leave the recruits outside! Jihan, with Ahnao by his side, stepped forward. He bowed while Ahnao curtsied.

“My lord of Malcor, you and your beautiful lady are well I trust?” Dylan said handing his reins to the stable hand. All along the lines horses were quietly led away leaving Dylan free to look around at the largest fortress ever built.

“We are very well your highness, and you?” Jihan said.

“Much better for seeing you,” Dylan said clasping hands with Jihan. “If I might take the liberty?” Dylan said kissing Ahnao fondly upon her cheek.

Ahnao blushed at this sign of royal favour. Neither Jihan nor Ahnao knew Dylan particularly well.

Jihan gave himself a shake and introduced Captain Echion. “If you will permit?”

“Certainly, I have every confidence in whomever you choose,” Dylan said then looked to the captain who was obviously intent on leaving as soon as politeness allowed. “My thanks, Echion. You will find them a good bunch, a little over eager if anything, but that’s to the good when training is in the offing don’t you think?”

“I do, Highness. I’m sure they’ll lose some of their enthusiasm when the real work begins,” Echion said with a small smile.

Dylan laughed. “Not too much I hope!”

Jihan was impatient to hear Dylan’s news. “You know the plan, Echion, but see to the comfort of Lord Dylan’s men first would you?”

“Yes my lord,” Echion said and took his leave.

Jihan led Dylan into the citadel. “I have a suit of rooms for your comfort your Highness. Would you prefer to refresh yourself first or—”

“Call me Dylan, Jihan. I’ve only been a king’s son for a season or so and already I’m tired of all the bowing and scraping. We never really went in for that kind of thing at Meilan.”

Jihan laughed. “I must admit Keverin and now you have surprised me by your easy manners, but I confess I do prefer less pomp myself. It comes from having Athlone for a father I suspect.”

“Oh?”

“He was very aware of his exalted position as Lord Protector of the north. He always made certain that everyone knew his power. My mother and me most of all—” Jihan broke off as those times again rose up in his memory to darken his day.

Ahnao gave his arm a gentle squeeze to wake him from his remembrances.

“—talk first I think,” Dylan was saying.

Jihan had missed the first part but he inferred that Dylan wished to speak privily before refreshing himself. He thought his study was the best place for such a discussion, and so he led the way there.

He seated Ahnao in the best armchair and offered wine, but she declined; her stomach was still not completely well. He frowned; he was unsure if that was normal, and he disliked taking the healer’s word on the matter. If Julia had been here he would have had no hesitation, but as she wasn’t… perhaps he could talk to one of the older sergeants, one with lots of children. Devin came to mind. Yes, he would ask Devin whether he recalled his consort being ill for this long a time.

He sat opposite Dylan and waited for his guest to speak first. Dylan savoured his wine for a moment then began.

“This is very good, Jihan.”

He had thought Dylan wanted to talk about important matters not make small talk. He kept his face bland not showing his annoyance.

“I’m glad you like it, Highness. I can let you have a couple of cases to take back to Devarr if you think your father would like it?”

“I think he would enjoy this very much. The cellars at the palace were ransacked as you know. The wines he restocked it with aren’t the best in my humble opinion.”

Jihan nodded and sipped his own wine. “Forgive me for being blunt, Dylan, but do you have news of import for me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive. As I said, I prefer directness between us.” Dylan finished his wine and gently placed the empty glass on the side table. “I have disturbing news from almost every quarter I’m afraid.”

“Disturbing?”

“I should probably say worse than disturbing, frightening even, but it wouldn’t do for me to admit that, especially not when I’m representing the King.”

“Explain.”

“General Navarien has three legions at his command and is intent upon subjugating the clans and then us. Keverin is lolling about in Denpasser when he should be ruling Athione and protecting the western border—” Dylan raised a hand to stop Jihan’s protest. “I know he has a reliable man in Marcus, but the fact remains Keverin is not doing his duty to Athione or Deva.”