Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 (157 page)

“The God made the Matriarch perfect. She rules us by his will,” Nisim whispered.

I killed the Matriarch’s chosen consort!

A scream made him jump up and draw his dagger. He was panting with fright, but gradually his breathing slowed and he took control of himself. He took a deep breath then quietly made his way to the window and looked outside. A dead Japuran lancer lay upon the ground. Further along the street were a great many more lancers fighting for their lives. They were fighting against a group of Borderers. Nisim bit his lip in indecision. He could not go back to Japura even if there was a way to hide his brand and blend in—not after everything he had done, but did that mean he had to be a Borderer and kill his own people? There were other places. Deva for one, and they didn’t have slavery. That was very attractive right now. But these people had befriended him. He couldn’t let them down.

He drew his sword and ran up behind the line of cavalry. At the last moment he jumped and swung his sword to take the man on his right out of the saddle. As Terriss had trained him to do, he finished the job with a dagger-thrust at the base of the skull before defending himself from one of the man’s comrades. He was soon lost in the madness of battle and only came back to himself when he ran out of targets.

“I’ve never seen a better man in a fight!” Dreng said in wonder. “You should lead us now you’re here, Nisim. We’re supposed to be closing the route to the south gate. Will you lead?”

He groaned. He had made the wrong choice again, every decision he made led to another, each one worse than the last. The God must be laughing at him, or guiding him?

“I will lead you,” Nisim said in defeat. “Let us go.”

A goodly portion of the city was burning, but unlike Talayan it was not by any means out of control. Terriss had arranged some of the fires to hem in the enemy so they would be unable to retreat once attacked. Other fires were probably the result of over enthusiastic lancers. They had not realised that setting fires before the battle was won was a bad idea. Now as the city burned, many of the lancers did also, trapped by their own stupidity.

“Dreng, take a third part of our force down that alley, and hit them from behind,” Nisim said and Dreng waved a group of people to follow him. Nisim’s eyes fell on a familiar Japuran face. “Nerina, can you do the same on the right?”

Nerina had been a whore like him, but unlike him she had taken to the soldier’s life with glee. She was a strong fighter and he was sure she would do her part. She grinned fiercely and waved her group to the right and down the alley.

He estimated both group’s progress and when he judged them nearly there he led his reduced force on down the street. As he rounded the corner he encountered domain infantry making their way nervously forward. From the wounds some of them had, he assumed they had already met and defeated one of the Borderer groups. The thought that Joz and Leona might be dead enraged him, and suddenly he was running toward the enemy. Everything seemed to slow and have a clarity to it he had never seen before. He laughed as a man tried to impale him. He sidestepped and took the man’s arm off at the shoulder. It was so easy! The sword had always seemed easy to use, his strength made up for his lack of skill, or so he thought. Terriss had tried to tell him that he was good at this, and Keppel had been sure he would make a fine assassin, but he had denied his skill. He didn’t want to be good at killing people. Why couldn’t he be good at painting or sculpture instead?

He killed and killed again before the rest of his people arrived. He had time to look up and see Dreng and Nerina emerge from the alleys and hit the Japurans from behind, but a burning sensation along his ribs shook him enough to bring his attention back to his own fight. A man wearing the plume of a force leader had managed to lunge and get by his guard. The cut was burning and bleeding profusely, but it did not seem serious. Rather than back away, Nisim moved forward and grappled the man close. His dagger found the gap in the force leader’s armour and he thrust it into the man’s armpit.

“Slave…” the force leader said in shock as he fell.

“Not any more,” he snarled and pulled the dagger free.

* * *

“No I said!” Methrym said in a rage.

“But they’re throwing down their weapons!” Lorenz yelled over the roar of the flames.

“What is it about the word no you don’t understand? We don’t let any escape, and we can’t hold them here! How would we guard and feed them? Haven’t thought of that have you?”

“This is murder!”

He shook his head in frustration. “If it is, I’m to blame not you. I
order
you to kill them all before we lose the rest of the city! No mercy!”

Lorenz shook his head. “I don’t know you any more! This is madness and I want no part of it!”

Methrym went cold. “You are refusing?”

“Cursed right I am!”

He thought fast. The penalty for refusing his order could only be death but he couldn’t do that. Lorenz was his best friend. Lorenz would come to his senses about this later, he was sure.

“I’m assigning you to the south. I have reports of lancers making their way down river. They’re probably going for the ford now the bridge is gone. Stop them. Is that clear?”

“Yes Sir!” Lorenz saluted and climbed into the saddle.

He watched his friend lead his men out the gate. Lorenz hadn’t even looked at him as he rode out.

“He’s soft,” Soren said scornfully. “Can’t expect anything more from House Calida.”

Methrym rounded on Soren. “Lorenz is a good man and an excellent soldier! He will do his duty. You heard the order. I want this city cleared of Japurans.”

“I heard. No mercy it is,” Soren said with relish and ran off to collect his men.

Methrym watched him go. “You would do better by emulating Lorenz cousin,” he said quietly.

Lorenz was right, the fight
was
already won, but he hadn’t lied to his friend when he said taking prisoners was out of the question. For one thing there were too many. It would take a city the size of Calida to house them properly. He would need another army to guard them!

He turned on the spot. Wherever he looked he found dead men. The Japurans had rushed in to occupy Malim exactly as planned, and also exactly as planned they had been prevented from leaving. Fighting in narrow streets was a nightmare for cavalry, but the Borderers loved it. The streets had turned into abattoirs as tightly packed cavalry ran headlong into barricades set up and manned by Terriss’ bowman. Borderers were deadly with most weapons, but the bow was a particular favourite as it was so useful from hiding. They usually hid among the trees, but rooftops and barricades had worked out just fine.

The war wasn’t to be a clean and honourable affair. If there was such a thing as a clean war. Methrym tended to doubt such a thing existed. Talitha had lost big here. Vexin would certainly consider pushing into Japura when he heard about this battle. If Talitha was wise she would sue for peace. Reparations would have to be huge to cover the damage done to Tanjung, but Japura was rich and could afford it. Would Vexin accept a treaty? He might. He just might. Vexin was different to previous emperors. He had been planning to put a stop to Japuran raids along the border just before the war began. He was not at all happy with the way the nobles defied him whenever they felt they could get away with it either. He wanted loyalty from his nobles like a Devan King received from his lords, and he wanted Tanjung prosperous like Japura was. By taking what he perceived as the best from his neighbours, Vexin had proposed to stabilise the Empire as never before. The problem was that Japura was at his mercy
now
. That might not be so later. Should he push ahead and perhaps prevent future strife, or should he accept a treaty that might break down at any time? It was a hard decision, one Methrym was glad he didn’t have to make. Vexin was best equipped to deal with the question of policy, and he with carrying it out. Talking of carrying it out, he supposed he should get back to the war.

He mounted his horse and made his way toward Vivika’s palace followed by a squad of a hundred men. He felt safe enough travelling with so few. Most of the surviving Japurans were fighting to the north well away from his current route. Roughly a quarter of Tanjung Malim was burning or had already been burned, but with a good water supply nearby he felt confident that the city would survive. Lines of bucket wielding peasants were even now fighting to ensure that. He wondered what Vivika thought about it.

That was answered soon after entering the palace. Vivika was still in his bloodied armour directing his men toward the fighting. Every man was being sent to finish the Japurans—even his bodyguard it seemed. Methrym stood aside as the last of Vivika’s men ran out.

“We have done it my friend!”

“Nearly,” Methrym temporised.

“Oh come now! The last resistance is being crushed as we speak. Did you see me? I charged the enemy just like father.”

He smiled. He could afford one now. “He would have been very proud my lord,” he said solemnly.

“Do you think so?” Vivika said hopefully.

“I do my lord. I am sorry about the damage, but—”

Vivika waved that away as soon as Methrym began his apology. “Buildings can be replaced, do not concern yourself. What is important is that most of my people survived. Evacuating the city and filling it with Borderers worked splendidly did it not?” Vivika didn’t wait for his answer. “I must admit to being very impressed with them. Don’t tell Terriss, but I was concerned about their reliability you know? One hears such ghastly things about Borderers. All sorts of ungodly things going on, but they seem like excellent people to me! I can’t see what all the fuss was about. They’re very good fighters.”

Methrym smiled. Vivika would know what all the fuss was about if he had ever tried to trade with them, or take something they considered theirs. Even if the thing wasn’t theirs it was better to let them have it! The God only knew how much of the city they were likely to carry away with them!

“What’s next, Methrym? Do we go after Wakiza now?”

We?

“Ah well… we have to finish up here and… don’t you want to stay to rebuild… and of course we have to wait for Vexin’s orders, and…
you can’t come!
”

Vivika laughed at Methrym’s stuttering. “Of course I can! Vexin has already rallied the lords to his cause. Where did you think they were going? No doubt they’re already on their way here with your orders. As for the city, I have very good people who look after details for me. My beloved insisted we have the best,” Vivika said sadly. He perked up again almost instantly. “Besides, it will take some time for the lords to reach us. We can make plans while we wait!”

Methrym stared at Vivika in horror. He would be saddled with the man forever!

Oh by the God, now what do I do?

* * *

19 ~ Mirror Mirror

Tears ran freely over Julia’s cheeks at the sight of Emma and Amara as they entered Kadar’s tent wearing their new tunics and leggings. The girls were beaming fit to break hearts as they marched boldly to where Kadar sat. Upon their backs, newly embroidered by their own hands, was the swirling pattern of the Night Wind Clan. At their waists they wore long knives proudly proclaiming they had chosen to train as warriors of the clan.

“We are gathered here to welcome Emma and Amara of Calvados into the clan,” Kadar began. “At a time when war is trying to tear us apart, it is even more fitting that we as a people hold to the traditions handed down through the centuries. One such is adoption.”

She watched the ceremony raptly as gifts were given and received then listened in excitement as Kadar asked the question everyone was waiting to hear.

“Emma of Calvados, Amara of Calvados, have you chosen who will be your father?”

“We have,” they said together.

“Is whom you choose within this tent?” Kadar said smiling. He knew full well he was.

The girls grinned. “He is.”

“Point him out so that he might come forth.”

As one the girls pointed to Shelim who was sitting quietly looking on. The relief on his face was comic. As if they would choose someone else after he saved them from certain death. Julia shook her head at Shelim’s foolishness. It was obvious that he’d thought right until the last moment they would choose other than him.

“Shelim, shaman of the Night Wind, stand forth,” Kadar ordered.

Shelim stood and stepping carefully between sitting clanners he approached Kadar. He was wearing his best tunic and leggings, the one with orange flames running down his arms and legs. He was dazzling… and noisy! The beads rattled at his every move.

“Is it your wish to accept responsibility for these children?”

“It is,” Shelim said with an arm around each.

Kadar nodded. “I am Clan Chief of the Night Wind Clan. I say that Shelim is father to Emma of the Night Wind and Amara of the Night Wind from this moment.”

Everyone stood and shouted their welcome and hugged the girls at the same time as pounding Shelim roughly on the shoulders and back.

“Congratulations you three, I know you’ll be happy together,” Julia said drying her eyes. She always cried at weddings, and the adoption was just like one.

“We will!” said Amara.

“That’s right!” Emma added.

Julia moved aside to let the others reach the happy trio, and found Kadar talking to Keverin in a corner.

“—without us!” Keverin said urgently.

Kadar shook his head. “There’s nothing I can do. Tobiah is chief of chiefs.”

“There is something,” she said as an idea formed. It was outrageous, but it might work.

“I don’t see what,” Kadar sighed.

“You do believe me when I say that without shamen the clans will be defeated?”

Kadar grimaced, he was not entirely happy admitting it. “Maybe not defeat…” he sighed. “Yes, many will die without them. We will probably be defeated.”

Probably was close enough, Julia decided. “Then I want to be adopted into the Night Wind along with Keverin and all the others.”