In Which Khaavren is Amazed To Discover
an Easterner Who Speaks the Dragaeran Language,
Albeit With an Accent, And, Out of Necessity,
The Tiassa Becomes a Diplomatist
A
S IT WILL BE SOME few moments before the Eastern army arrives at the place where Khaavren and his friends await them, let us make use of the interval to follow Mica along his route toward Castle Redface. We should say that there had been no hint of subterfuge in Mica’s reluctance to desert his lady and the others; though he had no taste for war, he already developed such a strong attachment to her that the thought of leaving her to die unattended was repugnant to him, even to the point where he would have preferred to die by her side. And then, it was also true that she represented to him his first chance of a life above the level of the most abject poverty, a life for which he had already acquired such a taste that he would have preferred to die rather than to be forced to return to his previous condition. Conversely, his attachment to his lady and to his present circumstances gave him a greater reason than he had ever had for wishing to remain alive.
All of this confusion in his mind, however, did nothing to diminish the speed with which his feet, driven by his legs, traversed the path which, as Uttrik had said, began between two rocks upon which watch-stations had been built, and which were called Nilk’arf’s Tower (the one on the right being named for Nilk e’Terics, the one on the left for her brother, Narf), which he could just barely see in the distance. He ran for them, then, with the intention of passing between them and following the path thus revealed until, in some fifteen or sixteen hours, he reached Castle Redface, exhausted, dying perhaps, but able at least to warn anyone who would listen that the demons from the east had crossed the mountains again.
This, we say, was his intention. What actually happened was that, some time before he reached the rocks that marked the beginning of the descent into the hidden valley between the mountains of Kieron and Bli’aard, he stopped, his mouth hanging so far open that it was just as well for him that bees did not live in these mountains.
What was it he saw that caused this abrupt alteration in his gait and confusion in his thinking? It was, emerging from between these very rocks which were his destination, what could only be an army, and that of foot-soldiers, marching, as nearly as he could tell from the distance, directly toward him. He was unable to determine their numbers, because of the
distance, and moreover, because they were still appearing, as if the ground was spitting them forth the way Dzur Mountain, according to the mood of The Enchantress, will sometimes spit forth fire.
He stood then, watching this army come forth, and, after his first moment of shock, he realized that before him was the answer to his prayers. And this was the more remarkable, he realized, in that it had not occurred to him to utter any prayers. He began to reflect upon the nature of the gods, wondering how useful prayer was, since, in spite of all the things he had prayed for at one time or another in his life, the blessings he had received all seemed to come at times when prayer had been the farthest thing from his mind. These reflections ended abruptly, however, when he realized that the army was still appearing, and that, moreover, now was the time for action, or at least the consideration of action, rather than for the sort of thoughts that were best appreciated during days of travel or hours of leisure.
After a moment, then, during which Mica stood rooted to the ground, he came to himself enough to consider what he ought to do. “I could return at once to my lady, and tell her that there is help on the way along the Slipknot from Nilk’arf’s Tower, upon which intelligence she would, perhaps, fall back and allow her rescuers time to arrive. But then, she seems determined to die, and might well ignore such a solution. I could, instead, continue on toward the advancing army, and try to convince them to hurry, and thus save my lady, which plan has the advantage that, if, as I suspect, these troops are arrived from Redface, I will have fulfilled my commission, and done so with such dispatch that no one could have anything to say against me. Well, that is the plan, I think; now, to action.”
This decision having been reached, the clever and devoted servant at once rushed forward, with all the speed of which he was capable, toward the troops, a thousand in number, who seemed to have formed ranks and were marching precisely in his direction. In no time at all, it seemed, he had reached the front ranks, who at first put their hands to their weapons, then, upon seeing it was only a single Teckla who approached them, waited. Their officer evidently perceived that this Teckla had something important to say, for he gave the command to halt, at which time Mica suddenly found himself face to face with Lord Adron.
“Well, my man?” said Adron.
“Your Highness,” said Mica, bowing to the very ground.
“You have something to tell me?”
“I do, my lord.”
“Well then—but stay,” he said suddenly as Mica dared to raise his head at last, “I know you; you were the lackey of one of those who did me the honor to stay beneath my roof some few days ago.”
“Yes, my lord. I am called Mica, if it please Your Highness.”
“Very well, Mica, then—”
The conversation was joined at this time by two gentlemen who did not wear the uniform and insignia of Lord Adron. By their bearing, Mica took them to be high nobles. By their dress, one seemed to be a Tsalmoth, the other a Lyorn.
“Your Highness,” said the Lyorn, “I perceive that the column has stopped.”
“You are correct, Count,” said Adron.
“Well, I am most anxious to learn the reason.”
“I am speaking with this Teckla.”
“I see that.”
“Then you understand.”
“Your pardon, my lord,” said the other with a courtly bow, “but we wish especially to learn why the column should stop so that Your Highness may converse with this Teckla.”
“For the simplest possible reason, Lord Garland,” said Adron. “It is because he is the lackey of one of those we pursue.”
“Lackey?” said Garland, laughing slightly. “How quaint.”
The other frowned and said, “You are interrogating him, then? Good.”
Mica said, “My lord? May I presume to ask Your Highness a question?”
“Very well, ask.”
“Excuse me, but I nearly think I heard Your Highness use the word pursue with respect to my lady.”
“Well, and if I did?”
“Your Highness is pursuing my lady?”
“The Horse,” said Adron, “what did you think I might be doing out here with a thousand men at my back?”
“I had thought, Your Highness—”
“Well, you had thought?”
“That, with the invasion, you had come to—”
“Invasion!” said Adron.
“The Easterners, Your Highness.”
“Easterners have invaded the Empire?”
“They are doing so even now, my lord.”
“How many of them?”
“Two or three thousands, my lord.”
“Where are they?”
“There. Your Highness can nearly see them.”
“Blood of the Horse, I do indeed. And your lady and her friends, where are they?”
“They are in front of the Easterners.”
“In front! Leading them?”
“Oh, no, your Highness. They are about to engage them.”
“What? The six of them? Against an army? Odds of three against a thousand?”
“I am certain, my lord, that they would have preferred to fight a more even battle, only—”
“Yes?”
“Well, there were no more of them, and no fewer of the Easterners, so the matter was taken out of their hands.”
“Did they not think to fall back?” said the Lyorn.
Mica frowned. “Fall back, my lord? Before Easterners? My lady and her friends never considered it.”
“Well,” said Adron, “it seems we are called upon to rescue them.”
“Not at all,” said the one called Garland.
Adron looked coldly at him, and turned to the Lyorn. “Well?” he said.
Shaltre moved a little distance away from the troops so that they might not hear him, and motioned for Garland and Adron to follow. Mica followed as well, although, because he was a Teckla, none of them paid any attention to him. When they had approached Shaltre, that worthy said, “Your Highness.”
“Well?” said Adron once more, in an even more menacing tone of voice, which did not appear to upset Shaltre in the least.
“I do myself the honor to remind Your Highness that we are on a mission from His Majesty.”
“Well, that is true,” said Adron. “Detestable as I find this mission, I was forced to set out upon it. But now, you perceive, the situation has changed.”
“Not the least in the world.”
“How, not?”
“Well, we will simply bring the Baroness back with us, and allow these Easterners to slaughter the rest, and all is said.”
“And the invasion?” said Adron, ironically.
“That is hardly your affair,” said Shaltre, “considering that Pepperfield is not numbered among your estates.”
“You would allow these Easterners to invade, merely to—”
“Obey His Majesty’s will? Of a certainty, your Highness. I will more than allow it, I will insist upon it.”
“And do you think His Majesty would approve of such a course?”
“His Majesty is not here; therefore, I must do as I think best.”
“And when I inform His Majesty of your decision?”
Shaltre looked quickly at Garland, and it seemed they exchanged a sort of communication with their eyes, for Shaltre said, “Your Highness is, perhaps, correct; I must confer with my friend to see if we can, together, reach a decision regarding what His Majesty would have us do.”
“You must live with the results.”
“Well, I know; I trust, therefore, you will permit us a moment to make such an important decision.”
“Very well; a moment.”
Shaltre took Garland aside, and, after being certain they were out of Adron’s earshot, they spoke together for some few minutes, after which they returned together.
Shaltre said, “I am afraid, Your Highness, that we have determined that His Majesty would much prefer these criminals dead—all of them, including Kaluma, who is, as you know, wanted for murder; if this requires us to permit a small force of Easterners to temporarily inhabit a few hectares of useless fields, then, well, so be it. I therefore call upon you to hold your forces here, where we will remain and witness the execution of these enemies of the state by the hands of the Eastern rabble; it will be amusing. After they are dead, we will then return to make our report to His Majesty, and if you wish to send your warriors against the Easterners at that time, well, we will not be here to object.”
“You are aware, I think, that by then they will hold the field?”
“Bah,” said Shaltre. “It is a field. An army can hold it only by occupying it; it can then be displaced by another army.”
“I beg to differ,” said Adron. “By placing a few men along the Ritmoro Levee, where the Slipknot turns and becomes wide, and then again by building and manning fortifications on Splittop Hill, that would only leave the Wood of Twelve Pines to be defended, and I suspect you will have heard of the latest battle to be fought there.”
“That is not our concern,” said Shaltre.
“What you suggest is impossible,” said Adron.
“Not at all,” said Shaltre.
“And, if I tell the Emperor?”
“That’s as it must be.”
Adron bit his lips until the blood ran, and cast his eyes again and again at the Eastern army. There is no question that five hundred years later he would, without hesitation, have disobeyed the Emperor’s orders, as he thought them, in order to do what he considered his duty. But at this time, he was still loyal; that is, he still considered that he must obey his Emperor under any conditions. He therefore called over to him an officer, and gave the command for his troops to relax, but to hold themselves ready.
He turned back, then, and looked once more at the Easterners, who, though they were moving slowly, nevertheless had closed the distance between themselves and the six individuals whom Adron could just barely distinguish in the distance. He said, “Well, what could that be?”
Shaltre said, “I do not understand what Your Highness does me the honor to ask me.”
“Do you not see someone running from us?”
“You are right.”
“It is their lackey,” said Garland, “no doubt returning to tell them that we will not save them. It’s all the same.”
In fact, Garland was right; as soon as Mica had heard the decision, he had set off as fast as he could run back toward his lady and her friends,
there to give them what news he could. It is to his credit that he arrived well before the Easterners.