The Godspeaker Trilogy (193 page)

Now my marriage is a battlefield, just like my kingdom. And in supporting Zandakar to save one, I might easily destroy the other.

As they left their apartments to meet with the council she lightly touched her husband's arm. “Alasdair. I love you.” You, not Zandakar .

He'd not slept well. Nightmares of the armada. Awake beside him she'd tried to give him her comfort, but even in his dreams he turned away. Now he sighed.

“If you love me, don't defend him. Don't use him. Don't trust him with this kingdom. With my life.”

“How can you ask me that? You know what Hettie told Dexterity, when this began. You know —”

“All I know, Rhian, is that you'll trust a dead woman and an enemy before you'll trust me.” He opened the parlour door, and stepped aside. “Shall we go? The council's waiting.”

Her dukes were subdued when they greeted her. So was Helfred. Dexterity looked ravaged. Their eyes met, and he tried to smile.

“Gentlemen,” she said coolly as Alasdair took his seat. “Where is Zandakar? Mister Jones—”

And then he joined them. Fresh from the tiltyard, dressed in dust and sweat and battered huntsman's leathers. Decorated here and there with blood. “I am sorry, Rhian hushla ,” he said, so self-contained. “I was training.”

“So I see,” she said, and did not smile to see him. “Be seated. We have a great deal to discuss.”

If he felt the weight of the staring dukes' displea-sure, he didn't show it. Sliding into a chair, he looked at Dexterity, his pale eyes worried. He nodded at Helfred. He nodded at Alasdair, and pressed his fist to his chest.

“Alasdair king.”

Alasdair looked him up and down. “Zandakar.”

This morning she was too weary for pacing. Taking her own seat, glancing at Ven'Cedwin to see if his quill was inked, she folded her hands on the table and sighed.

“Some four weeks, gentlemen, and Mijak will be here. Now we decide how best to pass the time.”

The meeting lasted seven hours. Prompted by Dexterity, she invited Zandakar to share his opinions of Kingseat harbour. Its vulnerability. How he thought his mother and brother would attack. How Ethrea could defend against them. What more training its soldiers required. How best to use their limited resources.

He spoke slowly. Steadily. His newfound fluency failed him, sometimes, but still he made his points. Gradually the hostility of her dukes subsided, and they began to care more for what was being said than who was saying it. Even Alasdair lowered his prickly guard. They argued. They compromised. They made difficult decisions.

The last, most difficult decision taken before the council broke for a brief respite was to count Linfoi as lost before Mijak reached it. They could not justify the resources it would take to defend Ethrea's least populous and poorest duchy. Its people would be sent south, its livestock left to fend for themselves. Its garrison's soldiers would be sent wherever they were needed.

“I'm sorry, Ludo,” said Rhian as the council took a brief break from deliberations. “I hope you understand I've not chosen this course because I hold duchy Linfoi in any low esteem.”

Ludo shook his head. “Of course not, Majesty. I can't fault your reasoning.”

She glanced over at Alasdair, nursing a goblet of ale by the chamber window, alone. “I'm not sure your cousin agrees with you.”

“He does,” said Ludo. “But still…it hurts.”

Of course it did. Everything hurt now, with Mijak four weeks away. “The command for your duchy's evacuation will go out by tonight. I'll have Henrik brought here to the castle, if that's what he wants. Although since it's almost certain Mijak will attack Kingseat first, perhaps he'd be safer somewhere else.”

“Safer?” Ludo pulled a face. “Do you honestly believe anywhere will be safe?”

This was the first private moment she and Alasdair's cousin had shared since the return of the ruined armada. “Ludo—”

He was still dashingly handsome, even with bruises all over his face, but something was different. His eyes were…older…than they'd been. “Yes, Rhian. It really was that dreadful.”

And then it was time to resume their preparations for war.

Edward and Rudi would take charge of a defensive position running along the Morvell-Hartshorn and Arbat-Meercheq borders. From that vantage-point they'd look to defend the kingdom's four middle duchies, and support duchy Kingseat in the south. They'd be assisted by Davin of Meercheq, to be released from house arrest, and every nobleman of those duchies.

Adric and Ludo would have the care of duchy Kingseat, and thus leave the defending of Kingseat capital to Alasdair, Zandakar…and Rhian herself.

“Because I can assure you, gentlemen,” she said coldly, “beacon or not, beloved by the people or not, I've no intention of cowering in a closet hoping the warriors of Mijak mistake me for a player's dummy. I'll have a care for my person, but I'll not be a coward.”

Helfred cleared his throat. “Your sentiments are admirable, Majesty. And no less than I – than we – expected. Perhaps we could revisit the matter another time? Certainly you've given us food for thought.”

In other words, he was going to fight her. And he wasn't alone. Only Zandakar looked approving. But then he would approve, wouldn't he? His mother was Mijak's own warrior queen.

Let them think what they like. I'll not be moved on this.

She looked around the table. “Gentlemen, we must pull together now as never before. Whatever concerns you have about Zandakar's place in this, banish them. If he has proven nothing else to us today, he has proven how we need him, and his knowledge of Mijak. Of warfare. He thinks like our enemy…but he is our friend.”

She looked at Alasdair when she said that. Alasdair looked back, no softness in him. No willingness to compromise.

But he will. He will. He has to. He's not stupid, only stubborn.

It was Adric who spoke aloud what she knew her councillors were thinking. “And Emperor Han, Majesty? What part will the Tzhung play?”

“That has yet to be decided,” she said. “He and I will meet, in good time.” She turned to Helfred. “Eminence, I regret I must ask so much of the Church. But you and your clergy are best placed to oversee the emptying of duchy Linfoi and the relocation of its people, as well as keeping the rest of the kingdom abreast of events and its courage high.”

“What is the Church for, Majesty, if not the succour of its children?” said Helfred. “There's no burden you can place upon it that God can't help us bear.”

She loved him, then. She could have kissed him. “Gentlemen,” she said. “I think we know what we must do. May God bless our kingdom, and give us the strength to prevail.”

In the days and weeks following the armada's return, the whole of Ethrea was transformed into an armed camp. With the duchies' garrisons filled to bursting, Rhian instructed Helfred and his clergy to tell her people that they should in their villages and hamlets, in their towns and in their parishes, form their own armed militias so they might defend themselves, if needed.

As for Ethrea's army…she was so proud. From sunup to sundown, in rain, in heat, bleeding and hurting, her soldiers trained until exhaustion felled them. In her castle garrison, in the garrisons of Kingseat and every other duchy, from the newest recruits to the old men limped out of retirement, they sweated and strained and swore and cursed, and wept when they promised: “ We will prevail .”

Mindful that he was one man, and could not lead everyone, Zandakar demanded to see every nobleman and seasoned soldier the kingdom possessed. He trained them to battle Mijak in groups of thirty at a time, a new group starting every three days. At the end of those three days his bruised and battered students were scattered throughout the duchies, to pass on what they had learned quickly, crudely, no time for kindness or finesse.

Rhian, Alasdair and her dukes trained with the first group like any common soldiers. She trained so hard, she truly thought she'd die. She crawled into bed at night weeping with pain.

After those brutal three days, the dukes left Kingseat to take command of their garrisons. Rhian farewelled Edward and Rudi first, the old warhorses who'd become like family, like uncles. They were strong men, but they wept in the castle forecourt and received her royal blessing. She embraced them afterwards, so afraid to watch them ride away.

“You needn't fear for the north, Majesty,” said Edward. “We'll fight until the last sword and pitchfork are broken. We'll make these heathen Mijaki rue the day they heard of Ethrea.”

“I know you will,” she said. “But if you don't take proper care of your safety, you'll be the rueful one, Edward. My word as a Havrell.”

He laughed a little, and so did she, but they both knew their hearts were breaking.

“God keep you safe, Majesty,” said Rudi. “It's been an honour serving you.”

“The honour is mine,” she replied, and punched her fist to her chest.

Next she gave Adric her blessing. “Have a care, Your Grace,” she told him. “Kingseat needs its duke.”

Flushed, Adric nodded. “Majesty, I've not always been comfortable, I know it, but I don't take your trust lightly. I won't let you down.”

She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe choosing him hadn't been a mistake, after all. “Be guided by Ludo, Adric. He's a duke too, remember, and more seasoned than you. If he advises you, listen.”

“I will,” Adric promised.

Farewelling Ludo was hardest. She watched, her throat aching, as Alasdair and his cousin embraced.

“Godspeed,” Ludo said, all his humour extinguished. “I'll see you again when it's over, Alasdair.”

“You will,” said Alasdair, his eyes over-bright. “By God, you will.”

She kissed Alasdair's cousin, and tousled his hair. “I'll keep trying to convince Henrik to join us in Kingseat, Ludo.”

Ludo smiled. “He won't come. He'll stay where he can rally Linfoi's people.” He kissed her cheek. “Look after Alasdair. Look after yourself.” Then, holding her close, he whispered, “The best thing my cousin ever did was marry you. Find me another Rhian, when we've won.”

“Oh, Ludo,” she said, and let the tears fall. “I'll find you someone far better than me.”

Her dukes departed, soon after. She stood with Alasdair, in silence, until they rode from sight.

With her dukes gone, Rhian became a second Zandakar. At first her soldier-students were wary, these were not men who knew her. To praise the romantic idea of a huntsman queen in chapel, that was one thing. To face her on the tiltyard and run at her with a training stave, that was something they found difficult to do.

Until she showed that she could kill them. When they believed that, then she could teach them. They believed…and they learned.

Helfred and his clergy laboured without rest to see the people of Linfoi settled, and the other duchies prepared. Lost for purpose, at first, Dexterity joined the prolate in keeping Kingseat's spirits lifted. He held puppet shows at the harbour markets, and every day made children laugh.

None of the deserting trading nations returned to help them. Rhian sent messages to Han, but received no reply. After a week, the council stopped asking when they could expect the aid of Tzhung-tzhungchai. She shared her days with Zandakar and her soldiers, dancing hotas and sweating. Her nights she spent with Alasdair, when they slept like strangers.

And every morning she woke thinking: does Mijak come today?

“
T
here !” cried Dmitrak, and laughed out loud. The light of newsun was everywhere, it showed him his heart's desire. “There is Ethrea , nest of demons in the world!”

He flung out his gauntleted hand, pointing. Aieee, god, that he could not smite the sinning island from here. But they would reach it soon and then it would burn. Like the demons' ships had burned, they had burned and sunk, he had destroyed them. Hekat did not do that, Vortka did not touch them.

I destroyed them, I am the god's hammer.

He turned away from the sight of that island Ethrea, he turned for the empress but she was not there. Vortka was there, he was not laughing. He was not pleased to see Ethrea, nest of demons. In the pale light of newsun his silver godbraids were silent, his godbells were not singing.

He is an old, sinning man. The god cannot see him. The god sees me, Dmitrak warlord, its hammer.

“The empress is sleeping,” said Vortka, his voice low. “You should not wake her.”

He looked past the high godspeaker to the shelter on the warship's deck, where his mother the empress lay on a pallet, where warriors of his warship stood proud guard around her.

“Why is she sleeping? She is strong in the god's eye, she is the god's chosen. She wants to see Ethrea. Let her wake, let her rejoice!”

Vortka shook his head, his silver godbells muttered sourly. “I am Vortka high godspeaker. Hekat is asleep.”

Dmitrak stared at him. “You have made her sleep. With your healing crystal, you have—”

“ Hold your tongue ,” said Vortka. “She is the empress, she is not young, she needs her rest.”

He stared into Vortka's eyes. Aieee, god, there were secrets, there were things he was not told. “You do not wish to be here, Vortka. You did not want the god in the world. You tried to stop us sailing from Jatharuj. Are you a demon? Do you fight the god? ”

He felt the god's power burning his blood. He felt the power surge through him and into his gauntlet. The red crystals caught fire, the gold wire flared in the sun.

I could burn him, I could burn him, I could see Vortka die.

The warriors on the warship's deck were watching, they saw their warlord's rage. Vortka's godspeakers were watching, the god was in them. They would smite him if Vortka was struck down.

“ Dmitrak !” said the empress. “What is this? Are you mad?”

The power died in his gauntlet, he was a small child again, the empress was scolding. Her tongue was a snakeblade, she could draw blood.

He stepped back. “Empress.”

Hekat came forth from her shelter, she walked slowly but with pride. Her linen tunic was old, it was patched, it was blemished with salt stains. She did not care. She never did. There were bloodstains on her tunic, they had not all washed out. The blood was from his warriors that she gave to the god. Her face was thin, she looked tired, but her eyes burned for the god.