The Warrior's Tale (63 page)

'Impossible,' Gamelan snorted. 'That would be like dreaming of a world without water to drink or air to breathe.'

My next thought was equally unimportant: 'Since
mostly
battle
magic doesn't work, or doesn't work very well in the confusion of spells and counterspells, what would happen if you went into combat without bothering to cast any?'

'Did you ever heat an empty wine jug in a fire and then, before i
t could cool, stuff a cork tightl
y into its mouth?'

'The one time I tried it as a child, the jug shattered across the kitchen and my father sent me to my room for the rest of the day without a meal. But Amalric had better luck, and told me the cork was sucked into the jug with a loud pop.'

'Exactl
y what would happen if you fought a war without Evocators and their spells, even if they are
mostly
mummery or ineffective. The fire drove something out of that wine jug, and the emptiness was too great, pulling the cork in after it. Your enemy's magic would be drawn over you, like a bait net, and you'd be swept up like a school of minnows.'

'So it must be then, spell and counterspell and counter-counterspell and counter-counter—' 'Rali. We have work to do.'

We did. But before we went back to alembic and wand, I did have a wistful thought about that world without magic. Gods, but war would be simpler if all you had to rely on was your brain, your muscles and your sword. In a world like that, there probably wouldn't be any armies, since there would've been no need to develop them, and men and women would setde their differences as our primitive fathers did, in single combat.

Once we had our magics ready, we summoned the surviving Konyan Evocators to our galley. There were only four - the rest had died when the Archon exploded Admiral Trahern's galley. But that gave us four acolytes, since the Konyans were indeed somewhat behind Orissan skills. We'd gathered those few unopened bags of wind from the other ships, and, with those as a base, cast an incantation that would hopefully give the fleet not only a fair wind up the gut towards Ticino, but one we might control as to intensity and even direction.

I'd suggested this last might be achieved by placing one of the small longboat compasses in the mouth of the leather bag, and, as the spell was being chanted by the four Konyans, I snapped the needle with a fingernail so it spun wildly. One of the Konyans said when we were finished that my addition would likely mean the winds would either blow from all directions at once, or else we'd have a cyclone. I paid him no attention, knowing better.

As we sailed closer, the Archon's building storm disappeared, and I was reassured - if he was tracking us magically, he certainly would've moved the eye of his storm along with our ships.

It was mid-afternoon when we sighted the first of the offshore islands. I'd become my flock of terns once more and scouted ahead of the fleet. I wasn't in any danger of being discovered, even in this familiar guise, as long as I stayed well away from the mainland. Most of the islands' watching-posts had been abandoned, their men recalled to Ticino after they'd seen our ships sail past in disarray, and those still manned had sentries
who were hardly at their most alert. Even so, when we approached another spell was begun. We were taking no chances. It was fortunate the day was cloudy, although I'd thought of an alternative incantation if the skies had been clear. On the open deck we set five braziers on high tripods to mark each point of a pentagram. In each brazier we burnt incense we thought pleasing to the Konyan gods of the air, and more important herbs as well, herbs that should bring magical potency whether the gods favoured it or not - laurel, mountain star, kalumb root and monkshood.

In the middle of the pentagram Gamelan had chalked symbols on the deck where I knelt before a low charcoal fire. Different herbs were cast into the fire, dandelion root and plantain among them, and a pot set to boil atop it. When the pot seethed and the steam billowed, I read certain names I'd written down on a scroll, together with a guide to their pronunciation. I didn't know what language they were in, nor, surprisingly, did Gamelan.

'This is one of those spells that've been handed down from Evocator to Evocator since I do not know when. No one I asked, when it was my time to memorize these words, knew a translation, other than this was a way to call the clouds to cover you, and was
mostly
used by witches in the farming areas to lessen the effect of a blistering early summer sun on young plants.'

We'd modified the spell for our own needs, and, as I said the words, stumbling over their arcane pronunciation, I glanced up, and saw, very slowly, very majestically, the clouds coming down to join their fellow, as we'd bidden them. We stopped the ceremony before the fog became so thick we couldn't see from ship to ship. It would be absurd if the magic intended to conceal so blinded us we rammed and sank each other with no necessity for an enemy.

Now magic and magicians were transferred to Admiral Bhzana's flagship. There was no room here on Stryker's galley, nor would
it be the safest place when battl
e was joined. One Konyan was put in charge of maintaining the fog spell, ordered to chant the words if the fog began dissipating, and the other three set to maintaining the wind conjuration. Gamelan wondered if they were to be depended on, and thought perhaps he should stay with them. A trace of his former bitterness showed when he said, 'At least an old man like me wouldn't get in anyone's way over there.'

I was about to retort, but Pamphylia was quicker: 'Why, sir,' she said pertly, 'you
must
be with us during the landing. I mean
someone
has to be in the vanguard who's capable of raping as they say all soldiers must.'

Gamelan snorted, but his good humour came back.

Xia was in our cabin when I entered. It was time for me to put on my battle harness. Xia wore the uniform of the Maranon Guard, had her armour nearby, and sat on her clothes-chest, looking at the bare sword she'd trained with so hard as if she'd never seen it before.

'Princess,' I began, speaking formally since what I was going to say was an order, not a request and not from a lover, or at least I hoped I'd reached my decision using logic, not love. 'When we go into battle—'

Xia interrupted, 'When we go into battle, I shall be beside you, Captain.'

I stopped. I'd figured she'd object to what I was going to tell her -to transfer to Admiral Bhzana's galley, or at the very least remain aboard Stryker's ship when we landed in Ticino, and had a response ready for that. But she'd slipped the mat from under me by using my tide, just as I'd attempted to start the discussion on more formal ground by doing the same.

'No Kanara has ever fought a battle from the safety of their tent. I shall not shame that tradition,' she said.

'All right,' I said. That's quite admirable, Princess. But you are the last Kanara. What if
...'

Then my father will have to legitimize one or another of his bastards and possibly even marry one of his concubines,' she said. 'And those
weak-bellied sons of his lust'll
bring the family heritage crashing down in ten years.

'But what of it,' she said. 'I care little about what happened before I was born, unless it affects me, and less about what happens after my death.

'For all I know
...
or care
...
when I am taken by the one you call the Seeker this whole world will flicker and die out like a blown-out candle. Perhaps all of this has been put here just for my amusement.'

I was about to say something at
this
piece of rather incredible arrogance when I saw she was hiding a grin and there was a wicked glint to her eye.

She laid the sword down on the deck and stood. 'There is another tradition in my family,' she said, her voice husky as she came to me. I was wearing only boots, a loose open-necked tunic that ended at mid-thigh and my own weapons belt. That fell to the deck with a thud, and her hands were on my shoulders, pulling my tunic down to my waist as my nipples rose, and then it, too, was on the deck and she lifted me in her arms and laid me atop it.

Xia never undressed, but took me as a warrior might take a maiden given him as a war-prize. Her lips and fingers were everywhere, caressing, stroking, then forcing, and I was thrashing, feeling the deck timbers scrape on my back, trying to keep from crying aloud as she sent me soaring high, higher even than my magic.

Eventually, in a day, a week, or a year, I came back, to see Xia lying on her side next to me, running a fingernail
gently
across my skin.

'A delightful tradition,' I managed. 'One I think the Anteros should adopt.'

I forced energy, and turned towards her, but she shook her head. 'After the
battle
, my Rali. After we've destroyed them. Then there'll be time and more for love.'

At full dark, our ships slid past the portal-cities. None of the ships showed lights, nor did I hear any shouts from any vessel as we slid along. I wished this had been the way it was two days earlier. There would now be several thousand men still breathing and dreaming of their homes and glory, instead of rotting silent corpses rolled along the ocean floor by the tides.

We'd arranged the order of
battle
before entering the gut. Now those half-wrecked hulks manned by Nor's Broken Men and other volunteers were in the vanguard. Our seven galleys were just behind, sailing in close company with Captain Yezo's five Konyan ships. Astern was Admiral Bhzana's flagship and the rest of the fleet. I'd made no suggestions, issued no orders other than that his ships were to close with and destroy any enemy they encountered. I assumed, or at least hoped, the division and ship captains were competent at ordering their own formations. I said it'd be unlikely they'd face the same problems with the enemy evading close
battle
during this night engagement as they had earlier, since we would hopefully have surprise as an ally. Finally, I ordered that no ship was to withdraw from
battle
unless specifically ordered by me and no one else, and that a great spell had been cast to send sea demons up to destroy any ship or sailor who disobeyed.

Not wanting to end my orders with such a lie, I'd thought for a moment, then scribbled, 'No man who sets his course towards the sound of
battle
this night can do wrong. The Gods strike for Konya!'

Then there was nothing for me to do for a long while except wait and pray we weren't discovered.

Corais was beside me in the forepeak. We watched the lights of the portal-cities fade behind us as we sailed on towards Ticino. I turned away, to go back to the quarterdeck. She put a hand out to stop me.

'When you are back in Orissa,' she said, 'on the first day of summer, would you authorize a tournament of archers in my name? And let it be open to all, especially girls who might be drawn to join the Guard?'

I began to say something, then found other words. 'I will,' I said. 'And you'll be the main judge, and make the sacrifice to Maranonia.'

'Make it of the early summer flowers. Roses, wisterias, lilacs and such,' she said. 'Shed no blood in my name.'

'Very well,' I said. 'But there's one condition - you'll have to keep your hands off the archers, at least until their mothers have their backs turned.'

Corais smiled, and her fingers touched the bit of The Sarzana's robe tied around her upper arm. 'I thank you,' she said, but no more.

Ticino glimmered through the night and haze. Now I'd find out if my strategy would work. My main concerns hadn't been its potential, but whether our attack had been magically discovered, and a trap laid for us, plus, of course, the larger worry about whether the Konyans would fight or flee again.

I'd ordered the immediate return to The Sarzana's stronghold not from rage, nor to justify the old saw that a thrown horseman, if he ever wishes to ride without fear, must remount, but because I knew soldiers. After a victory, particularly a victory as smashingly one-sided as theirs, celebration is in order. Soldiers wish to drink, eat, couple, re
-
affirm their hold on the world of the living.

Ideally we should've counter-attacked the same night we'd been driven out, but that had been clearly impossible. But when I reflected further, remembering how some of my post-
battle
hangovers had lingered, even when I'd soddenly attempted to drink them away, attacking The Sarzana on the second day might mean his forces were even less capable. We would know in b
are moments. I could see the outl
ine of the anchored Konyan ships against the bright lights of Ticino. I could hear the shouts of celebrants, the clashing music of military marches and drinking songs, and see the flare of torches on gondolas as they wove through the canals that were Ticino's thoroughfares. There were but few lights in the harbour, not even the masthead truck lights most ships set when anchored.

I gave an order, and Sergeant Ismet opened the shutter of her bullseye lantern in the long, short, long signal I'd arranged. The Evocators on Bhzana's ship should be obeying and increasing their chants. I felt the wind from the stern freshen, and Gamelan, who was standing beside me, said, 'At least they can follow orders. So far, anyway.'