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Authors: Simon Brown

Tags: #Fantasy, #General, #Fiction, #Action & Adventure

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BOOK: Sovereign
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'Why is Areava's army not pursuing us?' Gudon asked.

'We hurt them badly,' Korigan said. 'They are licking their wounds.'

'And with Sendarus dead, and the Key of the Sword taken from him, they may not have a commander,' Lynan added.

'Squabbling between seconds-in-command?' Gudon asked.

Lynan glanced at his oldest friend among the Chetts. 'Maybe. Or maybe they don't know how badly we were hurt. Or maybe just indecisiveness. Kumul told me that my father once said a general should always do something. Better the wrong thing than nothing at all.' Both Korigan and Gudon looked at him keenly then. Lynan laughed ruefully. 'Don't worry. We'll be doing
something.''

For a moment no one said anything. Lynan seemed content just to sit on his mare. Eventually Gudon prodded: 'What
are
we waiting for?'

Lynan pointed west. Gudon could see a faint haze on the horizon and scurrying birds in the air above it. 'Eynon,' Lynan said. Gudon glanced at Korigan and saw her worried expression. 'But we are not going to wait for him. I am going to meet him.'

'I'll call the banners,' Korigan said. 'You will meet him with your army behind you.'

'No. I will go with my Red Hands. Wait for me here.'

'But your Majesty, this is Eynon!' Korigan pleaded. 'He knows that destroying you will destroy me and open the way for him to become king of the Chetts—'

'Do you really think Eynon can kill me?'

Korigan remembered the way the enemy had struck at him in the last battle with no effect at all. After Jenrosa had given him the blood of the wood vampire Silona to save his life he had become something more than human; to the Chetts he was the White Wolf returned, the apothesis of myth. She blushed and shook her head.

'This needs to be done,' Lynan said to her gently. 'Trust me. Wait here. I will return before evening. Send out more scouts to keep watch over the Kingdom's and Salokan's armies. When I come back I will want to know exactly where both are.'

 

Many years ago, when Eynon was still a boy, his father had sent him on a trading expedition to the east. Accompanying one of the midsummer caravans across the Algonka Pass, he saw with wide-eyed wonder the lush and rich lands between the sea and the Ufero Mountains, lost count of the teeming thousands that lived there, and marvelled at the wealth even the smallest landowners displayed. Now, decades later, he still had to resist the temptation to just sit on his horse and gawp, open-mouthed, at the verdant pastures and forests he was leading his Chetts through. He also had to resist the temptation to think this plush land produced only plush soldiers. He knew the armies raised here had conquered most of the continent of Theare for the Rosethemes, and under General Elynd Chisal—Prince Lynan's father—had even chased the mercenaries out of the Oceans of Grass, something the Chetts themselves had never been able to do.

Until Korigan's father united us all under his banner
. Eynon breathed deeply. He understood that what the old king—also called Lynan—had done had been for the good of all the Chetts, but in the internecine wars he had waged to forge that unity, Eynon's own father had been killed. And now Lynan's namesake, the son of the great General and ally of Korigan, was creating a new destiny for the Chetts.

Eynon retrieved the Key of Unity from a pouch around his waist and felt its weight in his hands. It was heavier than it should have been, although to his surprise it grew lighter day by day. His followers had expected him to place the Key around his neck. After all, had not the White Wolf himself sent it to him as a bribe, to bring him and his Horse Clan and all the clans allied to him back into the fold? But he had not done that. The Key had not been sent to him as a bribe, as his people thought, but as a reminder of where his real loyalty should lie; it had been a gentle prod from a wise prince.

And it had come with a greater gift, Eynon reminded himself. The heads of the mercenaries Prado and Rendle, two of his people's greatest enemies.

He put away the Key and looked up. His riders were passing through a wood and its shadows criss-crossed over them like the fingers of giant hands. For all its beauty, this part of the world made Eynon feel trapped. The landscape seemed to settle in against him. Back on the Oceans of Grass everything was open and flat; but here even the sky seemed to close over him.

He studied the face of the rider next to him, saw that it showed no fear or anxiety. Rather it showed a kind of eagerness.

'You have enjoyed your stay with us, Makon?' Eynon asked.

The tall Chett carefully regarded his host. 'I will tell Lynan that you have been the most generous of hosts.'

Eynon was surprised by the answer, and then realised Makon had misunderstood his question. But of course Lynan was uppermost in the man's mind. It was something he and his people could not help noticing about Makon, and all the Red Hands he had brought with him to deliver Lynan's gift: they were infatuated with the White Wolf. The eastern prince was already more myth than man, and that more than anything had convinced Eynon he had no choice but to support him in his struggle. After all, who could hold out against myth?

There was a shout up ahead from one of his van, and a moment later a rider was galloping towards them. She passed Eynon, wheeled and came along beside him. 'Chetts. Many of them. Red Hands.'

'How far?' Eynon asked.

'About an hour from here.'

'And Lynan?'

'He leads them,' she said, and looked as if she was about to say something else, but she nervously eyed Makon and obviously decided to say no more.

'Tell the van to continue,' Eynon said. 'We will join you presently.'

The rider rushed away.

'I would like go on ahead to greet Lynan,' Makon said.

Eynon's first impulse was to ask Makon to stay with him—he wanted to make his own impression on Lynan without the prince being coloured by any report his emissary might make—but letting Makon go was a demonstration of his own confidence and authority.

'Give Prince Lynan my regards.'

Makon grinned his thanks, spurred his horse to the gallop and was soon gone from sight.

The two forces met at noon where the road left the woods and wound its way through a grassy field. Both leaders ordered their respective forces to hang back and rode to meet each other in the centre. When Eynon was close enough to get his first proper look at Lynan he could not help grunting in surprise at the changes he saw. Where before the prince had seemed uncomfortable in his pale skin, like a calf dressed in a wolf's hide, clearly he had since grown into it. Lynan was small and wiry and white as snow, and his gaze—as cold as winter—never wavered from Eynon's face. They stopped a few paces from each other, and made no move to take the other's arms in greeting; they had no need for false camaraderie between them. Each knew what was happening.

'I am glad you came,' Lynan said.

'I believe you,' Eynon replied without irony. Then he noticed the Key of the Sword hanging from the prince's neck. He could not help staring at it.

'Courtesy of Areava,' Lynan said.

Eynon looked up in surprise. 'You have slain the queen?' He could not help sounding as shocked as he felt.

'No. She had given it to her lover. An Amanite called Sendarus.'

'Then you have defeated the Kingdom?'

Lynan shook his head. 'We were beaten.'

Eynon blinked. For a moment he could think of nothing to say, then: 'You are in retreat?'

'No. Both sides were badly mauled. I think the Kingdom's army was hurt the worst, but they held the field. Technically that means they had the victory.'

'A Chett would not consider that a victory,' Eynon said matter-of-factly. 'A blood-soaked field isn't worth the life of one warrior. If they lost more warriors than you, then you won.'

'I lost Kumul,' Lynan said bluntly. 'I did not win.'

'God, lad, I did not expect to be greeted with a celebration, but I was not expecting this feast of bad tidings.'

The way Eynon said 'lad' made Lynan think of Kumul. In a strange way—his speech and the manner in which he held himself—the chief reminded him of his dead guardian. He pushed the thought away. 'It is best you know exactly how I stand before you commit yourself to my cause.'

'You are so sure that is why I have come?'

'You brought the Key of Union,' Lynan said with certainty.

Eynon could not help grinning. 'And how do you stand?'

'My army is mostly intact. The Kingdom's army is not chasing us; they have little cavalry left to speak of, and most of that is made up of knights from the Twenty Houses who are not at all suited to pursuit. There is a third army to the north of us: Salokan's retreating invasion force.'

'You met Kendra's heavy cavalry?'

'And destroyed most of it.' Lynan closed his eyes for a moment. 'That was Kumul's doing.'

'You forgot to mention one thing in your appraisal.' Lynan thought for a moment. 'I do not think so…'

'You defeated the mercenaries under Prado and Rendle.'

'Ah.'

'So as I see it, you have at least one victory to your credit, and possibly a second.' Eynon reached into the pouch around his waist and brought out the Key of Union. 'This is yours, I believe,' he said and handed it to Lynan.

'Thank you,' Lynan said simply, taking it and putting it around his neck. It clinked against the Key of the Sword and for the briefest of moments he felt a surge of power course through his veins. He was so surprised by it that he barely heard the cheering of the Red Hands behind him.

 

Gudon sat at the back of the circle that surrounded Lynan. He was both amused and a little frustrated by the gathering, but had expected that from the beginning. Closest to Lynan were Korigan and Eynon, old rivals now fighting for the same cause, but old rivals nonetheless. Backed up by their allied clan chiefs, each was arguing for a different strategy for the Chett army.

The discussion was heated, deadlocked and acrimonious. Gudon wondered how different it would have been had Kumul been present, and concluded that his presence would only have raised the temperature even higher. In the time he had known him, Gudon had learned that putting Kumul in a debate was like dropping a lit torch in a dry stable. He winced.
Would
have been like, he corrected himself.

His gaze wandered from Eynon to Korigan as each repeatedly argued their particular plan, and occasionally to Jenrosa sitting among the other clan magikers. He could tell she was trying to concentrate on what was being said—or shouted—but her mind was elsewhere.

And in between it all squatted Lynan, impassive, making no attempt whatsoever to adjudicate between his fractious followers. He waited until Korigan and Eynon had spent themselves, then stood up. All other conversations stopped. He looked at Korigan.

'As I understand it, you want me to move against the Kingdom's army and finish what we were unable to finish in the battle three days ago.'

Korigan nodded, and he looked at Eynon.

'And you want me to move directly on the provincial capital Daavis, taking it while the Kingdom's only army in this province of Hume is still recovering.'

Eynon nodded. Lynan breathed deeply and then looked directly at Ager, sitting quietly beside Gudon. 'And you, old Crookback, what is your advice?'

Ager blinked in surprise. All eyes rested on him, everyone aware that as one of Lynan's original companions, he had more influence than the average chief.

Ager cleared his throat. 'I say, what does the White Wolf want to do?'

Lynan smiled, and a sigh passed through the meeting. Both Korigan and Eynon looked abashed.

'The White Wolf says we will not attack the Kingdom's army, nor will we attack Daavis.'

'Surely we're not retreating back to the Oceans of Grass!' Eynon declared. Under Lynan's suddenly cool stare, he swallowed and said hurriedly: 'I did not bring my followers all this way to go back again without striking some blow for your Majesty.'

Oh, that was coolly said
, Gudon thought, and he could see that Lynan was amused by it as well.

'You and your followers will strike a blow for me, Eynon,' Lynan told him, speaking loud enough for all at the meeting to hear. 'And for all Cherts.'

'Then who are we going after?' Korigan asked. 'I speak for all the Chetts when I say we would like a second chance to attack the Kingdom, either against its army or against Daavis.'

'So would I,' Lynan said. 'But not now.'

'Why?'

'Two reasons. First, we don't know whether or not there are Kingdom reinforcements on the way. Second, it is the expected thing to do.'

'So we go after Salokan,' Ager guessed aloud.

There was a shocked silence. Eventually Korigan asked: 'But why make a second enemy? He's running away from the Kingdom, and as long as we don't interfere, he'll scarper all the way back to Haxus.'

'Salokan is already an enemy. Haxus was always a base for mercenaries during the Slaver War, and was again for Rendle this winter. I do not need to remind any here how much pain and misery the slavers caused the Chetts; without Haxus as their main base, they would not have been able to operate as freely as they did.'

'When do we go after him?' Ager asked.

'Is the army ready?' Lynan asked Korigan.

'Yes, your Majesty.'

'Then we go after Salokan tonight.'

CHAPTER 2

 

For the third day in a row Charion searched the eastern horizon for any sign of dust, puzzled and concerned she could not see any. She had been mentally preparing for an attack from Prince Lynan and his Chett army since the end of their first battle, but even her few remaining foot-scouts had found no trace of the enemy within five leagues. True, some of the scouts had not come back, but Lynan's own pickets would be out whether or not he intended to attack. She was puzzled because she had expected Lynan to use his army's greater mobility to surround her and try to finish what they had started, and concerned because she was afraid that instead he had manoeuvred around her to get to her capital, Daavis. Normally she would not have been worried; the Chetts were nomad warriors, and all their famed ferocity and courage would avail them nothing without a siege engine against the walls of Daavis. But after Salokan's siege, the poor city was in no state to resist a determined assault.

BOOK: Sovereign
2.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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