The Invisible Chains - Part 1: Bonds of Hate (29 page)

Anaxantis raced on. The speed, giving him a feeling of doing something very active, soothed him. When his horse began tiring, he slowed down to a trot. He came to open terrain with in the middle the ruins of what must at one time have been some kind of tower. Intrigued he rode to it and dismounted. Feeling suddenly tired, he sat down on a stone.

“It never was about us failing. The old fox wanted to see if we would come to what he considers to be the right conclusion by our own wits. Don't engage in battle for trifles. He is not for nothing the descendant of a long line of robbers. Since the Mukthars are essentially nothing more than that, he understands them perfectly. The only function of this little army is to slow them down in the hills should they venture inland, which is highly unlikely. For him this is nothing more than a border incident, not even worth a skirmish. What are fifteen thousand lives in the great scheme of the affairs of the kingdom? To him they are an acceptable loss. Figures on a piece of parchment between so many other figures. A paltry fifteen thousand lives lost is a far more preferable outcome than a costly and risky battle that could end in disaster. And if we don't learn our so called lesson in time, he will order Demrac to use the secret charter and prevent the army from engaging the Mukthars. And there is nothing, nothing at all I can do about that.”

He walked around the tower, wondering who had built it and when. He sat back on the stone and buried his face in his hands.

“It has all been for nothing. Ha, I thought I could beat the old rogue. I was going to be smarter and just that bit faster, but from the beginning I had no chance of succeeding. He knew he could thwart whatever plan one of us devised. He had us outwitted before we even left Ormidon.”

Discouraged, but calmed down he mounted his horse and at a leisurely pace began to ride back to Lorseth. He didn't see the lonely figure on horseback in the distance behind him.

Gorth, who had a keen eyesight, startled when he recognized Anaxantis. He had just left the woods and turned hastily back to seek cover between the trees.

“What is he doing here? Although we haven't made plans to meet here and now, I'd would have expected Ehandar. Strange, he's on his own, without his clan. Oh, well, he seems to be leaving anyway.”

Anaxantis let his horse ride at a walk, once he had found the main road that led out of the woods. He was mulling over the situation, but always came to the same conclusion. Whatever he did, the king held the trump card and would play it at the exact right moment. In fact, Ehandar and he had even helped, albeit but a little, by increasing the auxiliary army. He had calculated that he would have needed at least some four thousand five hundred extra troops to have a fighting chance. If he had ever found them, the king would have let Demrac take them away together with the regular army. He could as well save himself the trouble from now on.

When he had almost reached the border of the forest he saw a soldier sitting by the side of the road, nursing his right ankle.

“What happened to you?” he asked.

The soldier, a man in his forties, looked up to the young man, seated high upon his horse and immediately recognized the lord governor, although he wasn't wearing his bright yellow tunic with the dragon crest.

“I was coming back from the village, my lord. It was my day off. My foot got caught in that root over there, and I fell. I hurt my ankle. I don't know whether it's broken or just sprained.”

Anaxantis dismounted and crouched beside him.

“It looks swollen... but I am no doctor. Can you get that boot off?”

“No, I should have done that immediately, but now I can't get it off anymore.”

“That's not good. Has nobody come by to bring you to the camp physician?”

“Yes, my lord, a patrol. They said they would come to get me when they had done their rounds.”

“What? Couldn't they spare one fellow-soldier to bring you back to the camp?”

“Apparently not, my lord.”

“When was this?”

“A few hours ago, I think.”

“A few hours ago,” Anaxantis sighed. “Come, I'll bring you myself.”

“Oh, my lord, no. Please, don't bother. I'm sure they'll be here any moment.”

“Or they have forgotten all about you, or they think by now somebody else will have taken care of you. No, you could still be sitting here come midnight. Get up.”

“I can't, my lord,” the soldier said unhappily. “I cannot put any weight upon that foot.”

“Oh, come on man, I'll help you. Lean on me, and don't let that foot touch the ground.”

Anaxantis took the man's right arm and put it on his shoulders. With some difficulty they got in an upright position. The soldier grimaced.

“What is it now?” Anaxantis asked.

“I'm sorry, my lord, but I have to... I've been sitting there quite a while without being able to get up and now...”

“And now what?”

“I have to...”

“By the Gods man, if you have to piss, say so.”

The soldier nodded, grinning sheepishly. They turned around, so that the soldier faced the trees.

“I'm sorry, my lord, but I can't... I can't go, with somebody watching.”

“What do you want me to do?” Anaxantis asked exasperated. “I can't let go of you, or you'll fall down. And by the way, if you think I was looking forward to staring at your equipment, I must disappoint you.”

“I know,” the soldier answered embarrassed. “It's just... it's just the idea that someone could watch. If your lordship could turn around?”

With some difficulty Anaxantis did as the man asked, and soon he could hear the sound of the soldier relieving himself. When he was done he let out a long, contented sigh. After some maneuvering they managed to get beside Anaxantis's horse.

“Grab that knob on the saddle there and put your left foot in the stirrup. Then swing your right leg over the horse's back.”

“I've never ridden a horse, my lord. And it is not fitting. Me, a simple soldier on the lord governor's horse.”

The soldier looked very uncomfortable.

“For this once you'll have to. It's only a few miles, but you can't walk that far, and I certainly can't support you that long.”

After some fruitless attempts and much encouragement the soldier finally managed to climb upon the horse, in the process almost sliding off on the other side. Anaxantis grabbed his arm in the knick of time. When he sat, somewhat gingerly and unsure, in the saddle, Anaxantis took the reins and led the horse in the direction of the camp. Once they started moving his thoughts turned back to his problems.

So it happened that the captain of the guards at the gates of the camp saw a strange couple arriving. A boy with his head slightly bowed down, lost to the world, leading a horse whereupon sat a visibly unhappy soldier.

“Hey, you, boy. Where are you going with that horse? How did you get it?”

Since nobody had ever called him ‘Hey, you’ or ‘boy’, Anaxantis didn't react immediately. Once it registered that the captain was addressing him, he looked up, and then he was recognized.

“My lord, I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you,” the captain stammered.

“You walking... and that soldier upon your horse.” As if suddenly remembering something he yelled at the soldier. “What are you doing there. Get immediately off of his lordship's horse.”

“Of course,”
Anaxantis thought not without some bitterness.
“Without my tunic, not on horseback and my sword hidden under my not so clean mantle, I am just a boy. Not the lord governor. Poor Ehandar.”

The soldier was clumsily making ready to descend.

“Stay,” Anaxantis said curtly. “Captain, he has hurt his foot. He can't stand upon it. I'm bringing him to the camp physician.”

“We'll take care of it, my lord. I'm sure you have better things to do than baby-sit the likes of him.”

“Until he is properly looked after, I don't have anything better to do,” Anaxantis bit at the captain. “The man is in pain and has been sitting helpless by the side of the road for hours. There's no reason to make him walk the rest of the way. Besides, we're nearly there.”

With that he tugged at the reins, and the strange couple entered the camp. Anaxantis, who could find the way to the physician's barrack blindly, promptly sunk back in deep thought. Soldiers, farmers who had delivered produce and all sorts of camp hang-abouts made way for the brooding young man, who mechanically led his horse with the blushing soldier upon it.

When they arrived at their destination, he helped the physician and his assistants get the soldier off the horse and carry him inside. He watched attentively as they carefully cut the boot of his foot.

“It's not broken, luckily, just sprained,” the physician said after having examined it.

He laid a herbal compress upon the ankle and tightly bandaged it. The soldier seemed relieved.

“All the best,” Anaxantis said to him, “and I hope your ankle heals soon. Take care.”

“Thank you, my lord, I'll never forget this. That was very kind of you.”

“It was nothing. I was passing by, and I couldn't very well leave you there in pain, could I?”

“My fellow soldiers could. And did. So most certainly could you,” the soldier answered insistently. “You're a fine man, if I may say so, your lordship.”

Anaxantis smiled faintly.

“Opinions on that may differ.”

“Rest and get better,” he said simply.

That was the first of many anecdotes, that together would eventually become part of his legend. Anaxantis, the prince who left no man behind. Anaxantis, the general who took care of the least of those who fought for him. The soldier became for a while a local hero and was asked to tell his story over and over again, which for a few mugs of beer he readily did. It spread, and in the retelling many versions saw the light. In some the soldier had been mortally wounded by a wild hog, and the prince had carried him for twenty miles on his back. In the big cities popular songs about the incident were sung by traveling minstrels. Some were quite fine, others, more unfortunately, made ‘Anaxantis’ rhyme with ‘had to piss’.

When he came into his apartments Anaxantis found Ehandar sitting morosely in the big chair by the fire. He gave him a light kiss on the cheek.

“How was your day?” Ehandar asked, glad he had someone to talk to.

“Oh, you know,” Anaxantis replied absentmindedly, “same old same old.”

“An ordinary day, then?”

“Yes, nothing particularly interesting happened.”

Chapter 14:

All for Landemere

“I won't give up. I won't. I just won't. What do they all think? That they can poison me, rape me, send me on a fool's errand? Do they imagine I will take it all quietly? That I will simply let them have their way? That I will lay down meekly and let them trample all over me?

“What was it mother used to say? If somebody hurts you, in any way, it is normal to be depressed and to feel sorry for yourself. So, be depressed, that's all right. But don't stay depressed. Get angry. Get furious. Hate. Let your hate grow in you. It will make you strong. It will keep you alive. But never let it overtake you. Use it. All the energy you need will come out of your hate. Then, make them pay. Not just once. Make them pay over and over again. Tenfold, a hundredfold if necessary. Make them pay until your hurt stops. If they hurt you deep, destroy them. Crush them. Take everything away from them. Their possessions. Their freedom. Their dignity. Their humanity. And finally their life. Wipe them of the face of the earth. Then obliterate the very memory of them. Don't allow even their carcasses a grave. When they are gone, your hurt will have gone too. And finally, whatever you do, never, ever, ever, ever give up.

“I won't. I won't give up.”

Anaxantis sat in the war room, waiting until Tomar and a clerk would bring the business of the day. When they entered the room, he dismissed the clerk immediately.

“You look tired, Tomar.”

“That is because I have been up most of the night, looking up laws and precedents. Hemarchidas filled me in on the secret charter the king gave commander Tarngord. I thought you would want to know what your options are.”

“And?”

“And? And nothing, I'm afraid. Though I must admit that I was a bit surprised how extended your powers are. To summarize, they are the same as those of the king, were he here. In fact, you can only be superseded by the king himself or his representatives. We know your predecessor, the count of Whingomar, found that out the hard way. The king can send in his orders to Tarngord by special messenger or courier pigeon, who then only has to produce the charter he thinks nobody except him knows about to block you every step of the way.”

“That's not altogether correct. His authority is only higher than mine as far as the army is concerned.”

“Granted, but you need the army if you want to fight the Mukthars and, let's face it, Tarngord will never let you use it for that particular purpose. Or rather, your father won't let you.”

“I'm not all that sure if that's entirely the case. Demrac has kept the fact that he has a charter that gives him superior authority a secret. He doesn't want me to know, which is very wise of him. He wants to spring it upon me while I suspect nothing. But, I do know, and now it is in our best interest to prevent him from finding out 
that
.”

“You've lost me, I'm afraid.”

Anaxantis smiled.

“It will all become clear in time. The papers can wait. Let's go to the training grounds. I need the whole clan together.”

“Bortram, I want you out of the army as soon as possible and into my service,” Anaxantis said.

He had gathered all his friends in the tent.

“File for decommissioning today. Hemarchidas, Lethoras, I want you two detached from the Cheridonian cavalry. I'll personally go to your general to arrange it. You'll also enter my personal service. Same for you, Tomar, out of the administration of the Northern Marches. You'll become my private secretary. Marak, you're a special case as the Dermolhean Militia consists of volunteers. Do you have any particular obligations?”

“No, I can simply resign. There's nothing anybody can do about that, although I suspect father will have something to say about it,” Marak replied.

“Good. I have already requisitioned the barracks in the north eastern corner of the camp. I'd like you all together there. I want the leadership of the clan in no way connected anymore with the army or the auxiliary troops, because they both fall under the command of general Tarngord. How many clansmen do we have at the moment?”

“About sixty,” Lethoras said.

“I want them out of the army too. Not all at once of course. Talk to them individually and begin with the most trustworthy. Let's say, over a period of two, three months. Tomar, can I pay for all this?”

“Your monthly stipend as lord governor is more than adequate to cover the salaries. I don't know about your personal assets, except that they have increased considerably recently, but I doubt you will need them. In fact the amount you are paid by the Royal Treasury every month is quite obscene, and you haven't spent much. So there is a reserve. There was only a slight peak in expenditures last month, but nothing serious.”

“Last month? Ah yes, Dermolhea. Books and a few gifts.”

The group fell silent. Everybody felt that Anaxantis had made an important decision.

“So, I gather you're not giving up?” Hemarchidas finally asked.

“No, by the Gods, I'm not. Don't ask for details, for the moment. Tomar, you and I are going for a walk. I want to discuss some finer points about the exact extend of my authority.” He looked around the circle and smiled. “And you lot, start preparing for a little trip. We're leaving within the week.”

“A trip? Whereto?” Lethoras inquired.

“We're going to pay a visit to lady Athildis, duchess-regent of Landemere. Just a friendly visit.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Bortram grinned.

“Bortram, go and tell general Busskal to prepare the cavalry. We're taking them as well.”

“The whole cavalry? All two hundred and fifty?”

“I want to make an impression.” Anaxantis smiled.

“Oh, yeah, sure, just a friendly visit.”

“What can I do for you, General?” Anaxantis asked, looking him straight in the eyes.

Demrac Tarngord looked back uneasily. The lord governor had been busy in the war room with two of his collaborators. They had been studying a map with the main roads of the Northern Marches. He had not been invited to sit down.

“It has come to my attention that you are planning to visit the duchy of Landemere,” he said after a pause.

Anaxantis kept looking at him, neither surprised nor questioningly, but simply awaiting what would come. It made the general very uneasy.

“It has also been said that you have asked general Busskal for the cavalry to accompany you,” he added after an uneasy period of silence.

Still no reaction. Just a blank expression. After a few moments of this Demrac couldn't keep calm anymore.

“Well, is it true?” he asked, sounding more irritated than he had wanted.

“As it happens, yes,” Anaxantis answered noncommittally.

“And were you planning on consulting me about this?”

“No.”

Demrac needed all his willpower to remain calm.

“I would have thought that you would at least have asked for my advise. A least, before ordering general Busskal to prepare the cavalry for action.”

“I didn't need your advise. I was planning to inform you of my decision, though. That doesn't seem necessary anymore as you obviously know all about it.”

“May I remind you that I am the commander of the Army of the North?”

“I hadn't forgotten that you are the commander of the army that is at the disposal of the lord governor. Last time I checked, that was me.”

“I dare you. I dare you to produce your charter and assert your authority. Are you going to show your trump card over this?”

The general retained his composure with difficulty.

“Yes, of course, my lord,” he said through clenched teeth. “It's just that you used to involve me in major decisions you made.”

“This is hardly a major decision, and I will involve you or not as I see fit.”

“Do you really need the whole cavalry?” He was annoyed to sound almost pleading.

In his turn Anaxantis reacted irritated.

“The whole cavalry? What are you talking about, man? Barely two hundred and fifty men. I am a royal prince visiting one of the most important duchies of the realm, in my function as lord governor, the sole representative of his majesty the high king. Would you have me arrive a beggar at the ducal court?”

“No, of course not—”

“Well, then the matter is closed,” Anaxantis interrupted him curtly. “Now, if there's nothing else, general, I have work to do.”

“My lord,” the general answered and bowed slightly.

He turned on his heels and left the war room.

“That... that insolent... boy,” the general seethed with anger inside. “He treats me as one of his servants. But he'll see that he has overplayed his hand once he tries to move against the enemy. Then it will be my turn to inform him of my decision without so much as a by-your-leave.”

“Will you be gone long?” Ehandar asked, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

He sat in the big chair with Anaxantis straddling his lap, facing him.

“A week, I guess, maybe less.”

“I hope you'll get something more out of her than the two hundred and fifty men she promised us.”

“I'll do my best.”

“Well, you can't possibly do worse than I did in Mirkadesh or Dermolhea... It is going to be lonely without you here, though.”

Anaxantis smiled at him and took his head in both his hands.

“I know, but it is only for a week. I'll be leaving tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow already?” This time he couldn't keep the frustration out of his voice.

“Don't look at me like that,” Anaxantis cooed. “The sooner I go, the sooner I'll be back.”

He looked his brother in the eyes as if searching something.

“Still, I feel so useless. I wish there was something I could do,” Ehandar sighed.

Anaxantis leaned forward and kissed him full on the lips.

“There are a few things you can do, but it can wait until I return from Landemere. Step by step, Ehandar. Drop by drop.”

“Come,” he said, “let's make an early night of it.”

It was the end of November and there was a crispness in the air, but the weather was dry, when Anaxantis, his friends, the cavalry and several servants set out of the camp of Lorseth on the road to Landemere. He felt his blood racing through his veins with anticipation. In his head he went once more over his plans. He had only spoken with Tomar about what he intended to do in Landemere. Together they had read every law, ordinance, decree and statute that could have any bearing on his plans. At last they had been satisfied that, from a legal point of view, they had a solid case. Anaxantis hadn't told the others exactly what his intentions were. The evening before they arrived at the ducal castle would be time enough.