The Invisible Chains - Part 2: Bonds of Fear (72 page)

hunger for conquest then?”

Anaxantis snickered.

“I meant it when I said that I think that a nation that doesn’t

expand is on the road to perdition. Nobody is claiming those lands.

Maybe nobody sees the opportunities they offer. So why shouldn’t I

claim them? Besides, there are other reasons than the Mukthars to

make them our own.”

“But, if it is that simple, why didn’t we already occupy the passes?”

“Because the principle is simple, the execution not so much. To

begin with we need some time to study the actual conditions there.

We will need to build walls, and that is not without problems. We

need to bring masons, stone cutters and other workmen there and

see to it that they are protected while they work. At the Urtdam-Dek

Pass the walls need to run close up to, or even some distance into the

sea. It all takes time. Time and soldiers.”

“Not that many however. Let’s say a thousand at each pass.”

“Yes, but not the same thousand permanently. Eventually they’ll

have to be relieved by fresh troops. Unless we turn the passes and

the lands around them into marquessates. The New Marches, if you

will. But then we need people to work the land. Neither can we leave

them there as outposts in the wilderness. We haven’t met them as

yet, but there are robber gangs active in the plains.”

“And Mukthars. Obviously, as we caught some.”

“Yes, and who knows what other groups lurk in the woods. You

see? Not as simple as all that. As long as we don’t have complete

control over the Plains, there’s always the risk that our outposts might

be attacked. Furthermore, as long as the New Marches aren’t self

sufficient, everything will have to be brought there from Amiratha.

We will need equipment and food. That means long, vulnerable

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569

supply lines. Which means we will need soldiers. We just started to

train them.”

Hemarchidas whistled.

“Quite an undertaking.”

“We must occupy the Renuvian Plains and bring them into

cultivation. Bring order to them and the rule of law. That’s the most

efficient and in the long run the safest way of going about it.”

“It will take time, like you said.”

“If we manage to beat the Mukthars and chase them back to their

homelands with their tails between their legs, we might have enough

time.”

“And here was me thinking that you only wanted to go down in

the chronicles as Anaxantis the Conqueror,” Hemarchidas said.

Anaxantis smiled.

“Oh, did I fall asleep. I’m sorry...”

“Never mind,” Hemarchidas said, “you’re probably still tired from

riding back and forth across the Northern Marches.”

Still a little dazed, Anaxantis sat up and looked around.

“We should be getting back. It will be dark soon.”

“Not soon, the days are getting noticeably longer... but, fair

enough, let’s go home.”

They went, like they had come, on foot, guiding the horses who

walked behind them by the reins, looking for the path.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, say so, but have you decided

anything, one way or the other, about your brother?”

570

Andrew Ashling

Anaxantis shrugged.

“No, not really. I still can’t make up my mind. Sometimes... Last

evening, it would have taken but a few words and I would have called

the whole thing off. I was this close to setting him free. I have this

whole plan ready to reinstate him... to make it all go away.”

“But you didn’t set him free?”

“No. In the cold light of morning I realized I still don’t know...

if... if the other one is gone. The evening before he was so gentle, so

caring. Pathetically so, frankly.”

“Of course he is. It’s in his interest. And you left him alone for

quite a while.”

“Two weeks and a few days. Not all that long, but I agree that to

him, on his own, it must have seemed much longer.”

“Aren’t you afraid that if you were to set him free, he might turn

back into his former haughty self? Face it, as lord governor, he was

useless in the highest degree. That’s a disastrous combination:

arrogance and incompetence. Will you still have some kind of hold

over him? There’s the personal level as well.”

“I know, I know,” Anaxantis sighed. “See, that’s why I can’t decide.”

They walked on silently for a few minutes.

“You know,” Hemarchidas said, “my offer is still valid. Just go to

the base camp near Dermolhea for a few days to inspect the troops.

Give me the keys to your apartments. When you come back it will be

as if he never was there. You still care for him, I know. I promise he

won’t feel a thing.”

“I wish it were that simple,”
Anaxantis thought.
“They say that out

of sight is out of mind. Is it also out of the heart? What you propose is

about as far out of sight as you can get. Maybe I should take you up on

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571

your offer. Have done with it, for once and for all. You’re right, what

if I set him free and the other has been hiding there, somewhere deep

inside after all? What if it was all a front? What if, once free, he turns

against me and catches me unaware?

“And then there is the other scenario. What if I fall in battle? Then

it all ends. I won’t carry my revenge beyond the grave. After all, he

can’t touch me there. In that case he might as well be free. I must find

a way to provide for that eventuality.

“What if it’s real? Maybe the other just isn’t there anymore and all

that is left is the one I saw yesterday, just before falling asleep. My love.

My poor, pathetic love.”

He walked steadily on, his head bowed to the ground. Hemarchidas

did nothing to break his train of thought. They reached the path.

“A test,”
Anaxantis thought, mounting Myrmos.
“I need a test. A

test that will unequivocally, without a shadow of a doubt, decide the

matter one way or the other... If he fails it, I will err on the side of

caution. I have no choice.”

572

Andrew Ashling

“Yes, Friend of Wolves, he had come a long way. He had started

out an infirm, weak boy, raped and captured by his older brother.

By his inner strength, his willpower, his discernment and wits, and

with the help of the lessons of his mother, he had overcome him and

turned the tables on him. By all rights he should have killed him. Safety

considerations required it. The family traditions expected it. His honor

demanded it. He should have killed him, slowly and painfully. But he

hadn’t. Not yet, anyway.”

...

“Because the situation was volatile as quicksilver. Or at least his

understanding of it. Bringing the mighty House of Landemere to its

knees, subjugating the Amirathan nobility, and winning the support

of the people had boosted his self-confidence and his conviction that

he could fend off everything that threatened him and his friends. All

that was destroyed by his father who sent the Bloody Baron after him,

though he regretted his mistake and tried to repair it almost as soon

as he had made it. For the second time he felt betrayed by a member of

his own family. And this time he almost gave in to despair. It changed

his outlook on life forever and made him act in ways he wouldn’t have

otherwise.”

...

“Betrayals so deep leave their marks. They destroyed the very

foundation of his existence and he came dangerously close to the

precipice of insanity. Outwardly he seemed calm and in control, and to

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573

a certain extend he was. The core of his being, however, was wounded,

had become unbalanced, at exactly the time he had to face many

enemies at once.

...

“He realized the Mukthars were not the only barbarians he had

to confront. By now you must have guessed what he wanted, what

his ultimate goal was. Every time he thought it was within his reach,

every time he could almost grasp it, each time it eluded him. Events

had shown clearly that it was not only his sanity that as in danger. His

life was at stake.”

...

“He had toyed with the idea before, but no more than that. He was

set upon his course by his confrontation with the autarch that wasn’t.

And maybe by his budding admiration for the Mukthar prince, whom

he knew was all too easy to underestimate. In all that he did next, he

felt he was doing no more than defending himself.”

...

“Against who? Against the barbarians of course. Three fights, all of

a different nature, all equally challenging, lay before him. First against

the Mukthars, then against his family.”

...

“No, not now. In five weeks. In five weeks, Mandigaill, whom they

call the Hunter, you may return.”

...

“Yes, that long.”

...

“The third? The third was but a single barbarian he had to fight.

But it was a formidable adversary.

574

Andrew Ashling

Himself.”

About the author

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