Best Laid Plans (49 page)

Rhiannon let go of Sammy’s hand and stepped towards Huntsman. ‘It’s not Cadman. Not anymore.’

Huntsman looked at her as if she were crazy, but then realization crept across his face even before she explained herself.

‘On the tower, on Dead Man’s Torch,’ she said, ‘something came for him: a man seated on a throne. The skies opened like someone had torn a curtain. This man—’

‘Sektis Gandaw!’ Huntsman seemed to visibly wilt as he said the name. The Ipsissimus merely closed his eyes.

‘—he did something to Cadman,’ Rhiannon said. ‘Entered his body in some way. I think Cadman’s gone—dead even, if that’s possible.’

‘If Sektis Gandaw has the other four pieces—’ the Ipsissimus said.

‘He needs only one more,’ Huntsman finished. ‘To begin Unweaving: end of all things.’

The Ipsissimus’s spectral hand clutched the golden Monas around his neck. ‘Why hasn’t he already come for it. With the other pieces he could—¼

‘The Archon,’ Sammy said, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. ‘He wards it. The other pieces can no longer find it.’

‘Then Gandaw’s barking up the wrong tree,’ Rhiannon said.

‘No.’ Huntsman regained his poise and shook his head. ‘He wants revenge. My gods thwarted him once. He does not forget.’

The Ipsissimus touched his fingertips together beneath his nose. ‘And you say they don’t know about my Monas?’

‘No,’ Huntsman said. ‘They never let me tell them.’

‘Then why—?’ Rhiannon started.

‘Sektis Gandaw doesn’t know that. He will try to force knowledge from them and they will be unable to answer,’ the Ipsissimus said.

‘It is worse than that.’ Huntsman looked from Rhiannon to the Ipsissimus with panic in his eyes. ‘Sektis Gandaw hates my gods. He goes to slaughter them, just as he once slaughtered Barraiya People. My friend,’ he said to the Ipsissimus, ‘we must help them.’

I
psissimus Theodore watched his troops file past as he was borne along in a gilded lectica by four men. He loathed this mode of transport, but as Exemptus Cane was forever reminding him, it was what the people expected. An Ipsissimus had to be seen as more than human. Apparently, being carried on a cushion-strewn litter rendered one divine.

As columns of armoured men marched past, seemingly oblivious to the heat, Theodore had an unquiet heart. He had never been comfortable with the use of force and yet his Templum had for thousands of years subscribed to a theory of just war. Theodore had always found this contrary to the example of Nous, who had embodied a strategy of non-violent resistance. In this case, though, when the future of Creation was at stake, he could see no alternative. And yet a quiet, nagging voice refused to grant him the peace that should accompany a decision made in good conscience; a voice that seemed to taunt him with the limitations of his own faith:
Trust in Ain. Be not afraid.

Following the maps sent to Aeterna by the Jarmin in return for Aeterna-tech medicines and weapons, the column made its way south and east towards the Delling Ford. Theodore had been outmanoeuvred on the armaments front. Exemptus Silvanus, more and more, was having his way in Templum affairs. And to think people believed the Ipsissimus wielded absolute power. The reality was closer to Quilonian democracy. It was no secret that Silvanus favoured opening up the archives and releasing the knowledge of the Ancients. Some technology had already been made available—medical wisdom and such. It was a necessity. And then, during the Verusian campaign, strange armaments had started to appear, and transportation—most notably shipbuilding—had accelerated to rival the galleons of Sahul (which Hagalle had apparently modelled on a captured mawg reaver). Perhaps Silvanus was right. The Templum couldn’t pretend the technology wasn’t there, not when its rivals were rediscovering it by themselves. It was a perennial problem, but Theodore still believed with his whole heart that the sort of weapons they’d supplied to Jarmin didn’t marry well with the way of Nous. It all reeked of power and hypocrisy, yet, even as Ipsissimus, he felt impotent against the tide.

The heat and dust forced the knights to remove their armour and walk their horses. Shade was minimal, at times non-existent, as they trudged across ruddy earth that seemed to foreshadow bloodshed. Scrubs of hard weeds and tufted grasstrees jutted from the desert, providing no respite from the scorching sun.

The scouts returned with news of an intercepting army to the south blocking the passage to the ford. General Binizo rode alongside the lectica to inform the Ipsissimus. He was your typical Latian, Theodore thought, careful not to be uncharitable—dark-eyed and swarthy, an impressive nose dominating his face. Binizo carried himself with a deportment that could have been construed as pompous if it were not the norm for one of his breeding.

‘There are nearly four thousand men, Ipsissimus, and they are illintentioned. No sooner had our scouts sighted them than a score of riders gave chase. They are highly skilled and were able to fire arrows from the saddle. They pursued our scouts for perhaps a mile before returning to the main force.’

‘Is it Hagalle?’ the Ipsissimus asked.

‘No banners were sighted, but I would assume so, Divinity.’

Theodore nodded his agreement. ‘I had better get some rest. If the Emperor is so ill-disposed towards us I shall need to be prepared for a very long negotiation. If,’ he added, ‘we are granted the opportunity to talk. Oh, and General,’ Theodore said, stamping his foot so that the litter bearers would stop. ‘Find me a horse. I refuse to face the Emperor of Sahul like some pampered Ancient world queen!’

Binizo wheeled his mount and touched his forehead.

‘No,’ Theodore said. ‘On second thoughts, make it a mule.’ Hagalle already viewed him as an imperious conqueror. Maybe a touch of humility would help. ‘And inform Exemptus Cane that he may ride in the lectica.’
Either that or break it up for firewood.

***

‘They have the high ground,’ Ignatius Grymm said, looking down on Theodore from his destrier.

‘That is rather apparent,’ the Ipsissimus squinted up at the twin hills that rose in great natural steps either side of the valley. ‘Surely that can’t be a natural feature.’ Theodore shifted his position on the mule to find a degree of comfort. The animal stank of musk and sweat, and he was sure it was infested with lice.

‘Some sort of earthworks, maybe,’ the Grand Master said. ‘Either that or canny fortifications. Sahul has seen its fair share of warfare. I was reading about the Zaneish rise to hegemony on the voyage from Aeterna.’

Theodore gazed back over his own army deployed at the edge of Dour Wood, if the maps were anything to go by. A thin line of Britannic skirmishers provided a screen for the main force; hard men from the north, lightly armoured in leather and equipped with slings and javelins for harrying the enemy, and long bladed knives for finishing the wounded. Behind them, to the left, just nudging out of the tree-line, were the Templum’s shock troops: over a hundred knights of the Elect, heavily armoured and perfectly disciplined. One coordinated charge from them was enough to decimate any army in Nousia. Theodore only hoped they’d enjoy the same success in Sahul, should it come to it.

The centre was held by the heavy infantry units, nearly two hundred men in plate armour and wielding fearsome glaive guisarmes, twice the length of a spear and with hooks at the back of the blade for unseating riders. They had a contingent of the Ipsissimal Guard to their right and another to the rear—seasoned veterans in red cloaks with an embroidered white Monas. These men fought with short stabbing swords and rectangular shields. Theodore had seen them manoeuvring in Latia and had been in awe of their ability to flawlessly change formation and to use their shields as a defensive wall. A long line of archers came next, each with Britannic long bows carved of yew. Bringing up the rear were the Elect Foot, Theodore’s personal bodyguard, fighters of incomparable skill and loyalty. He imagined they were feeling a little forlorn back there with no one to protect—besides Exemptus Cane, who seemed quite at home in the Ipsissimal lectica.

‘Are they a threat?’ Theodore asked his Grand Master. It was so difficult to tell with these things. He’d never actually witnessed a battle, but he had endured years and years of endless parades with Ignatius wittering on in his ear about the pros and cons of every single unit.

‘All enemies pose a threat, Divinity. The first rule of war is never to underestimate your opponent. Especially when he outnumbers you by at least two to one. See how Hagalle employs a screen like our own, only longer. He doesn’t want to show his full strength. Those peltasts at the foot of the hill will split and run once the real fighting begins, making way for whatever he has behind. Those are light cavalry on the left hill, but too few to be more than a nuisance. I doubt he’ll risk them against the Elect. Up there,’ Ignatius pointed to the top of the left hill and swung his finger over to take in the right, ‘he has twice our archers. If those are long bows, we lose the range advantage. Their heavy cavalry are on the right flank. He aims to use them against the Ipsissimal Guard, but if he does, we’ll wheel away and let them face the guisarmes. What troubles me most is what he has guarding the mouth of the valley. Perhaps when we get closer we’ll be able to see.’

‘If we get closer,’ Theodore said. ‘I have a feeling Hagalle is not going to want to parley. Nevertheless…’ Theodore shook the reins and sent the mule plodding forward.

‘You know my feelings on this, Divinity’ Ignatius said, dismounting and handing the reins of his destrier to a young squire. The Grand Master took hold of the mule’s bridle and walked beside it.

‘You have surpassed yourself in letting me know,’ Theodore said with a smile. He knew how hard it had been for the Grand Master to speak his mind, even when asked. ‘But it is not with all this,’ Theodore flicked his hand back at the Templum army, ‘that we do Ain’s work. We must reach out with humility and friendship. If Hagalle refuses us, then we shall have to think again.’

If he didn’t kill them. Theodore dreaded the thought. Such an incident would spark full-scale war between Sahul and the whole of Nousia. It was hardly the kind of legacy he was hoping to leave.

Ignatius led the mule out onto the dusty red plain between the forest and the hills. Sunlight glinted from the spears and armour of Hagalle’s forces, making it difficult to see. Theodore wondered if perhaps he should have brought a white flag. Maybe his robes would suffice. In any case, even a total brute would be able to tell that two men and a mule hardly constituted an act of aggression.

The sun harried them every slow plodding step of the way, deadlier than a hail of arrows, more certain than a sword through the guts. Theodore wished he’d brought a waterskin. Now they were out of the limited shade of the eucalypts, they’d probably both shrivel and die before they came within talking distance of the Imperial force, and even if they should make it, he’d probably be too parched to speak. If Ignatius was feeling the heat beneath his chainmail and cloak, he didn’t show it. There was a sheen on his forehead beneath his iron grey hair, but other than that the Grand Master was as stoic as ever.

Midway between the two armies, Ignatius brought the mule to a stop as the screening peltasts in front of the imperial force parted to either side of the valley mouth. Two staggered phalanxes guarded the pass between the hills. It was impossible to gauge their depth, but each was at least forty men wide and bristling with spears.

‘Hoplites,’ Ignatius said, for once sounding surprised. ‘That’s a throwback. I’ve studied them in Balzeal’s
History of Conflict
, but this kind of warfare was obsolete by the time cataphracts and pikes were on the scene. Not to mention the longbow.’

Theodore climbed down from the mule and shaded his eyes to get a better look. The hoplites must have really been suffering in the heat; they wore bronze breastplates and shouldered heavy round shields.

‘You think Hagalle’s technology is expanding faster than his purse? Maybe he can’t afford to upgrade his entire army,’ he said. ‘Does this give us more bargaining power?’

‘I’m not sure, Divinity. Out in the open the Elect would smash through them, and head to head, our glaive guisarmes have the greater reach. But holed up there in the valley mouth, they may well prove an immovable object. I’d say Hagalle’s plan is for a defensive battle. He seeks only to prevent us making further progress on Sahulian soil. He’s hoping we’ll turn tail and head back to Aeterna.’

That wasn’t really an option, not with the threat posed by the Statue of Eingana. And besides, Theodore had a feeling that his piece of the statue wasn’t about to let him go anywhere but forward.

‘If necessary, can we break through?’ Theodore studied the Grand Master’s face, but Ignatius was giving nothing away. His hesitation, however, caused Theodore to frown.