The Invisible Chains - Part 3: Bonds of Blood (40 page)

Let them think whatever they pleased about the two brothers. They were the lord governors, weren't they?

He startled wide awake and was suddenly afraid. What had he been thinking? What had his sick mind conjured up? A world that could never be. He wasn't a... what he had thought he had seen in those treacherous daydreams.

He looked at himself. There was no green tunic, there were no fine boots. There was only this naked body.

This, this was what he was. Master had told him so often. A naked animal. He would be nameless, were it not for Master's kindness. He shouldn't be ungrateful. He was what he was. What Master wanted him to be. That ought to suffice.

But it had been such a beautiful dream.

It was almost two full days after they had left the place where the Ghiasht merchants had been robbed. They had made exceedingly good time, but the horses were beat. Provided his men were at the designated meeting place, that wouldn't matter too much. They would have brought extra animals that would be relatively fit. It weren't the horses though, that occupied Lee-Lack's mind.

When they came near the outgrowth of the Pashira Forest, they were met by one of the gang's lieutenants, Javarroz.

“Chief. Welcome,” he said in greeting. “Most of our men have arrived.”

While gang members took the horses of Lee-Lack and his men, they themselves went into the forest. A few hundred yards down between the trees on a little clearing stood several wooden cabins and a crude stable.

It had started out, probably centuries ago, as a provisional camp, but by now it had become a permanent settlement. At least some twenty gang members resided here at all times.

The location mystified Lee-Lack Scarminckle. Granted, it was out of reach of the Ximerionian authorities, it lay out of sight, and the hunting was excellent. It lay also far away from their main area of operation. In fact it lay almost dead in the middle of the Plains. As if at one time the Renuvian Robbers had felt the need to reach the four corners of them easily.

Once Lee-Lack had asked his predecessor, Sanduvar Blacktooth. The only answers he had gotten was an annoyed shrug, and “Who's to say?” Sanduvar hadn't been interested in such details. He hadn't been interested in any details at all. That was why his skeleton now lay on the bottom of a ravine in the Teagriam Mountains, not far from their headquarters. That was why Lee-Lack was chief of the Renuvian Robbers now.

Once they were in the cabin, reserved for the exclusive use of the chief, Lee-Lack brought his lieutenant up to speed.

“Strange,” Javarroz mused, “we haven't noticed anything.”

“The Ghiasht merchants said there were only about twenty of them,” Lee-Lack shrugged. “It wouldn't be very hard to miss them. On the other hand, they were driving a herd of almost two hundred horses. Still, the Plains are a big place.”

“What do you think, chief? Couldn't they have a hiding place somewhere this side of the Teagriam Mountains?”

“Not impossible, I guess. We're too few to patrol the entire Plains, and besides, there never was any need to do so.”

“Not to mention that lately a lot of our men were scattered all over the Marches to gather intelligence.”

Lee-Lack didn't answer.

“
It's only a hunch, but I bet they're somewhere deep in this forest. If that is true then it's going to be very
difficult to find and dislodge them. What is even more worrying: they obviously didn't steal those horses to
sell them. So why do they need them at all? And why that many?”

One of the robbers brought a pot with steaming stew and bowls, and for a while the chief and his lieutenant ate in silence. That was why they noticed the rumbling sound in the distance.

Lee-Lack looked up from his bowl and put down his wooden spoon, straining his ears.

“Thunder? A storm?” Javarroz asked.

“No. Those are horses.”

“The thieves?”

“No, for the sound to penetrate here inside a cabin in the wood there must be a lot of them. An awful lot.”

Lee-Lack jumped up and ran outside. So had most of his men. He ordered them to be quiet and cocked his head, listening. Then he motioned Javarroz and Norri-Nack to follow him. With a speed that belied his limp he made his way to the edge of the wood. Crouching down, he made a sign to the other two to do the same.

They didn't have to wait long. The rumbling became louder and louder, until finally they saw the first horsemen.

“Mukthars,” Norri-Nack whispered, although there was not the least risk the riders would hear him.

It took almost an hour before they had all passed by the spot where the robber chief and his companions were hiding. All the while Lee-Lack's brain was working in overdrive.

“
What is Shigurtish doing? He's a capable commander. He knows you can't win a war nor take a city with
cavalry alone. Where is his infantry, where are his archers, his skirmishers?”

He was still pondering these questions when he stood up.

“They're going to be very surprised in Dermolhea, when they see the Mukthars beneath their walls so unexpectedly,” Norri-Nack said.

Lee-Lack stopped in his tracks.

“Damn it. Walls,” he exclaimed.

“What brother? What do you mean? Walls?”

“Yes, yes... Walls. Dermolhea has walls. Cavalry on its own is useless against a walled city. You need infantry, battering rams, siege hooks, scaling ladders, trebuchets... A cavalry by itself can't take a city.”

“So why are they— they're not going to Dermolhea, are they?”

Lee-Lack bared his yellow teeth.

“No, brother, they're going to a place without walls—”

“Mirkadesh... they're attacking Mirkadesh.”

Anaxantis wasn't very happy riding to Dermolhea for the ball, organized by the wives of the Forty.

Hemarchidas had nagged him into wearing his formal tunic and his sword.

“It will give the people confidence,” he had said.

Grumbling and muttering he had eventually complied, saying he was not taking his stupid helmet only to have to carry it around all evening.

He comforted himself with the thought that all evening would amount to only an hour or so.

The ladies had insisted he bring the Mukthar prince. Timishi had been even less happy with the idea of being gawked at by the Dermolhean higher class. When he had gone to seek out Anaxantis that afternoon he had come back in his barrack with nothing achieved. He had been told that the warlord was in a meeting with his cartographers and had given orders not to be disturbed. So, Rodomesh made him accept the invitation, in the hope that somehow there would be an opportunity for the both of them to talk.

The pages were the only ones who looked forward to the event, except Obyann, who complained he had nothing decent to wear. Lorcko congratulated himself that he had hung out his best tunic, so that it was now almost wrinkle-free. He used a little bit extra lilac scent to rinse his hair. Arranulf thought it would be interesting. Ambrick looked down with disdain on what he called a gathering of those self-aggrandizing peasant women in their best frock. Eynurm was just glad that it would drive the boredom away.

It was only a short ride from the base camp to the city. The gates stood wide open, and literally hundreds of torches lighted the streets that led to the town hall. When the prince and his retinue arrived before the imposing building, dozens of servants appeared as out of nothing to take care of the horses.

Anaxantis mounted the steps, not as he was used to, two at a time, but slowly, almost reluctantly.

“I hate this,” he hissed at Hemarchidas.

“Show a little respect for all the trouble these ladies have taken on your behalf,” the Cheridonian answered in a mild tone.

Tomar and Lethoras exchanged amused glances. Marak met them at the top of the stairs and showed them the way to the great hall. Not that it was difficult to find. Elegant dance music made it very clear where the festivities were taking place.

The moment he was about to enter the hall, the music stopped abruptly for a moment and changed to some loud, rather pompous, martial tune. The enormous room was teeming with people.

“In heaven's name,” Anaxantis complained, the moment the deafening music announced his arrival.

“Everybody who has two sarths to rub together is here. And that music... really.”

“Just smile,” Tomar said.

The human sea seemed to split in two to give the prince and his retinue a wide berth.

“Look there,” Hemarchidas said as they made their way to the back of the hall.

In the first row stood a fortress of a lady, behind a boy of about fifteen years. Judging by the possessive gesture by which she rested her hands on his shoulders he was her son. The boy looked extremely unhappy and ready to run away, the moment his mother would lift her hands. He was wearing a tunic that was far too long, and his cheeks were unnaturally pale. In passing Anaxantis noticed that his lips were painted cherry red and his brows plucked. He looked astounded at Hemarchidas.

“They seem to know your taste for guys,” the Cheridonian said, trying not to laugh.

“Then why did that woman attempt to turn him into a girl?” Anaxantis replied curtly.

“Look there, there's someone who's gone quite the other way,” the Cheridonian chuckled.

A tall girl, with very short hair, wearing pants and a man's shirt, smirked at Anaxantis. In contrast to the boy, she seemed to enjoy herself immensely.

“What happened to that good old Dermolhean mentality of we-hate-all-nobles, that's what I want to know,”

the prince said, suppressing a shiver.

He walked as fast as he could to the dais at the back of the hall where a table was prepared and the lord mayor and his councilmen had gathered. Once he had mounted the three steps, he turned around and made a curt bow by way of greeting.

The whole hall applauded him, forcing him to stand there for several minutes, smiling uncomfortably. Finally he felt he could turn around and greet mayor Fraleck and his friends. He was surprised at the deference they treated him with, notwithstanding their staunch anti-noble feelings.

Fraleck bade him sit in the seat of honor and sat down himself on his right side.

“A very different ambiance, compared to thirteen years ago. All thanks to you, my lord,” he purred.

“Let's just hope that all this feasting isn't premature.”

“Did you know the people are already singing victory songs in the streets? They sprang up overnight. One of the most popular is called ‘The Dancing Dragons,’ if memory serves,” Marak senior said.

“The what?” Anaxantis asked.

“Seems to be an allusion on your standard, my lord. Nobody seems to know where the expression comes from. Let's see if I can remember any of it.

Here and there, east and west,

on long, sharp lances,

each planted in a Mukthar's chest,
a dragon dances.

Not the epitome of poetry maybe, but it shows folks are optimistic in the outcome.”

“Let's hope their optimism is warranted,” the prince said cautioustheir ca “Your lordship has a well trained army at his disposal, if I'm correctly informed,” Fraleck said.

“You are, my lord,” Anaxantis answered. “Well trained, but also untried. As, to be frank, am I.”

“Just you saying this,” the Lord Mayor smiled, “puts me all the more at ease. You're not overconfident.

That's a good quality. I'm sure you'll prove to be a match for whatever the Mukthars send against us.”

“From your mouth to the Gods' ears, my lord.”

The orchestra had started playing dance music and several dozens of couples whirled around in the center of the hall. Not a few passed as often as they could near the dais upon which the table stood where the prince was sitting.

“Would it be very forward of me to ask what your general strategy is?” Marak Theroghall senior asked.

“No, not at all,” Anaxantis answered amiably, glad that he could talk about a subject he considered far less dangerous than dancing.

He rearranged two plates.

“Let's say these are the forest. Then the Mirax runs something like this.”

He indicated a swirly line with his finger.

“I'll have two units as vanguards, here and here.” He took two cups and put them in position on the table.

“Now if they cross at either this or this point of the Mirax, the vanguard can slow them down until the main force, here, can come to their aid.” He put a third cup on the table. “See, either way I have them hemmed in between the river and a forest.”

“Yes,” one of the Forty broached, “ but what if they cross the Mirax in front of the main force. Here?”

“Ah, then they are caught between my main force and the two vanguards who are in their rear. That would still be a development in our favor, though I prefer one of the other two alternatives.”

Lorcko had led his charges, the Mukthar prince and his companions, to a corner of the hall and had asked Eynurm and his group to stand nearby.

“It doesn't look as if you're going to get any opportunity to accost him here, Timi,” Rodomesh whispered.