Irons in the Fire (65 page)

"We will be intercepting as many ducal paychests as possible." Evord looked at Sorgrad and Gren with a slight smile.

"We've done it before," Gren confirmed, irrepressible.

Evord continued, "Whatever the Lescari may think of the Mountain Men and the Dalasorians, they will find that none of our forces plunder their farms or villages. Whatever we need, we will pay for handsomely, with honest gold, and yes, the dukes' lead-weighted silver once we capture it." He glanced at Gruit. "In the meantime, I take it you will ensure we have sufficient coin on hand?"

"That's all arranged." Gruit looked happier.

"Do you know if the other dukes have heard of Sharlac's fate yet?" Charoleia enquired.

Evord shook his head. "I don't know and I don't much care. We'll be marching again before they have time to do much beyond tell themselves it can't be true. Though Duke Iruvain of Triolle may have heard. I suspect Moncan's duchess had some means of getting word out to her daughter, Litasse of Triolle."

"These things happen." Charoleia shrugged. "Henceforth, Duke Iruvain won't be nearly so well informed as he has been. His spymaster Hamare is dead."

"Is he?" Evord looked at her with mild surprise.

She looked at Sorgrad and Gren. "You didn't say?"

Sorgrad shrugged. "We thought we'd let you explain."

"It seemed the obvious thing to do." Charoleia looked at Evord with faint challenge.

He met her gaze levelly. "It might be best if we were to discuss such decisions before acting upon them."

"Of course, as far as is practicable." She smiled serenely.

"If Lady Derenna has Sharlac's duchess in her keeping, what's to prevent her doing whatever she sees fit?" Aremil asked quickly.

Kerith spoke up for the first time. "Jettin is keeping us fully informed."

Given the scholar's expression, Aremil concluded he wasn't the only one with reservations about the noblewoman.

Evord acknowledged Kerith with a nod. "All correspondence under Sharlac's duchess's seal is to be read."

"Don't you trust Derenna?" Gruit was looking uncertain again.

"Trust isn't the issue," Evord said mildly. "Staying informed is what matters."

"Do you know what Carluse intends?" Charoleia asked. "Now that Duke Garnot has broken the Guilds' conspiracies, has he been able to make any preparations against your advance?"

"He's aware of some of those who've been working against him," Evord corrected her politely. "We still have allies to call on in Carluse. Mistress Failla is eager to help us contact them, to make amends for her forced indiscretions."

At least Tathrin had the captain-general on his side defending Failla, thought Aremil, even if the Soluran was keeping his eye on her.

Captain-General Evord was still speaking. "For the moment, I suspect Duke Garnot will be more concerned with the immediate threat of our army. Word of Losand's fall should be reaching him just about now."

Gruit cleared his throat. "It's the first day of Autumn Festival tomorrow. Will you be spending it here?"

"I will be marching onwards at first light tomorrow, now that the scouts I sent out have reported back." Evord looked steadily at them all. "We will pursue this campaign as far and as fast as we can through the autumn and into the start of winter if need be. I intend defeating all Lescar's dukes well before Solstice."

"What?" Gruit was astonished.

Aremil saw that Tathrin was equally astounded, along with Kerith and Welgren. The only people who didn't look surprised were Charoleia, Sorgrad and Gren, and even then, Aremil didn't think they had known about this beforehand.

"We march on Carluse." Evord smiled thinly. "I have no intention of giving our foes any more time than I absolutely must to gather their forces to oppose us."

"How long do you suppose you can campaign into autumn before the weather breaks?" Gruit asked doubtfully.

"Mountain Men and Dalasorians are well used to harsher climes than these. They won't baulk at fighting in rain or snow if needs must," Evord assured him, "when our advantage over whatever militias the dukes can whip up will be all the greater."

The merchant wasn't convinced. "My wagons will be hard pressed to keep up with you when all the roads are axle-deep in mud."

Evord was unperturbed. "We waited until the harvests had been gathered before we attacked. Every granary and storehouse is full, so we will buy provisions and forage as we go."

"If you can find any stores, after the dukes have plundered their vassals to feed their militias." Gruit shook his head doubtfully.

"In doing so, the dukes will merely make themselves more hated," Evord pointed out. "While we will offer a share of our supplies to anyone we find starving. We are fighting for the wellbeing of all Lescari, after all. Mountain Men and Dalasorians are well used to living off the land in far less fertile regions," he added with an unexpected grin.

"You have thought all this through." Despite all his aches from the journey, despite all the uncertainties he could still see lying ahead, Aremil felt his spirits rising.

"That's why you retained my services." Evord cracked his knuckles briskly, the sound startling in the silence. "If you have no more immediate questions, I have work to do before we march tomorrow. I suggest you retire to your accommodation to recover from your journey and you can ask whatever new questions occur to you at dinner."

The door to the upper hall opened and the captain-general's men filed back in. How had he summoned them? Aremil wondered.

He set that question aside as he looked at everyone else. Charoleia was contemplating something with half-closed eyes while Gren was tugging at his brother's elbow, whispering eagerly. Aremil found Sorgrad's face as impossible to read as Tathrin did.

Gruit and Welgren were already on their feet. Judging by the way the old wine merchant was pointing to his back, the two of them were discussing medical matters. The apothecary answered with animated hands.

Branca was sitting beside Kerith, listening politely as he spoke. The scholar looked as stern as any mentor at the university. Aremil was determined to discuss the arguments for and against the harsher applications of Artifice with Branca before giving Kerith any answer. He had questions of his own for Kerith too, sure there was more to Nath's antagonism towards Failla than he'd learned so far.

He must talk with Tathrin, openly, just the two of them. They had started this whole enterprise with their earnest discussions back in Vanam. Aremil couldn't bear to think of their friendship breaking under the strains of putting their hopes into motion.

"Master Aremil?" Evord stepped forward to offer his hand. "I'm glad to make your acquaintance."

Aremil braced himself for a soldier's crushing grip only to find the Soluran offering the lightest handclasp. "And I yours."

"I wanted to thank you for all you've done with these aetheric enchantments to keep our schemes marching in step," Evord said.

"I'm glad to be of service," Aremil assured him.

Evord smiled briefly. "As soon as we resume this campaign, you can expect my orders along with everyone else. Until dinner, then."

Seeing Evord step away, Tathrin rose and came over just as Branca appeared on Aremil's other side.

"Can I help you down the stairs?"

"I was just going to say the same."

To Aremil's inexpressible relief, Tathrin shared a wry look with Branca. Whatever other tensions had arisen, the two people closest to him had apparently reached a friendly understanding.

He managed to get to his feet. "It seems the captain-general has plans for me and my Artifice, as soon as the campaign resumes," he confided.

"That doesn't surprise me," Tathrin said frankly. "He won't let anyone sit idle."

Branca nodded. "As he keeps saying, we have a great deal still to do."

The three of them made their way slowly towards the door.

Aremil recalled his sense of achievement as the carriage had reached Losand. That was undimmed. He and Tathrin had first brought all these disparate people together. Through all the unexpected twists of late spring, both halves of summer and early autumn, they had worked together. Now everything was moving towards bringing lasting peace to Lescar.

Deep in his innermost thoughts, he couldn't help wondering what the autumn and winter ahead would see. Just what had they set in motion?

Dukedoms of Lescar

Vanam

One of the leading cities of Ensaimin, a realm of independent city states and fiefdoms.

Tathrin: Originally from the Lescari dukedom of Carluse. Now apprenticed to Master Wyess.

Master Wyess: A prosperous fur trader.

Eclan: One of his senior apprentices.

Master Malcot: A cloth merchant.

Master Garvan: A master blacksmith.

Master Kierst: A less successful fur trader.

Master Gruit: A wine merchant, originally from the dukedom of Marlier.

Aremil: A nobleman crippled from birth living a retired, scholarly life.

Lyrlen: His loyal nurse.

Lady Derenna: A noblewoman exiled from Sharlac where her husband, Lord Rousharn, fell foul of the duke.

Reniack: Originally from Parnilesse, born to a whore in the mercenary enclave of Carif. A rabble-rouser and pamphleteer.

Charoleia: An intelligent and beautiful information broker. Her origins are obscure and her aliases include but are not limited to Lady Alaric, Mistress Larch and Lady Rochiel.

Trissa: Her maid. Extremely discreet.

Tonin: A senior mentor at the university. A noted scholar engaged in unravelling the secrets of the ancient enchantments called Artifice.

Branca: His student, Vanam born of Lescari blood. Adept at Artifice.

Kerith and Jettin: Also his students, also of Lescari origins, both skilled in using Artifice.

Carluse

A dukedom of the fractured and war-torn country of Lescar.

Insignia: a black boar's head on a white ground.

Colours: black and white.

Duke Garnot.

Lenter: His valet.

Corrad. His horse master.

Duchess Tadira: Born sister to the Duke of Parnilesse.

Lord Ricart: Heir to the dukedom.

(Veblen: Duke Garnot's bastard son, killed in battle two years ago).

Failla: Duke Garnot's mistress.

Vrist and Parlin: Grooms.

Ernout: Priest of Saedrin at the shrine in Carluse town and Failla's uncle.

Lathi: Failla's cousin.

Nath: An itinerant mapmaker with links to Charoleia.

Welgren: A travelling apothecary with links to Charoleia.

Wynald's Warband: A mercenary company retained by Duke Garnot.

Draximal

A Lescari dukedom.

Insignia: a golden brazier on a blue ground.

Colours: red and gold.

Duke Secaris.

Sorgrad and Gren: Originally born in the mountains, mercenaries who have been involved in shady dealings the length and breadth of Einarinn.

Arest: Captain of the Wyvern Hunters company of mercenaries.

Ziel, Jik and Macra: Mercenaries in his company.

Reher: A mageborn blacksmith originally from Carluse.

Triolle

A Lescari dukedom.

Insignia: a green grebe on a pale yellow ground.

Colours: green and yellow.

Duke Iruvain: Succeeded his father Duke Gerone less than a year ago.

Litasse: His duchess, born daughter of the Duke of Sharlac.

Valesti: Her lady in waiting.

Hamare: Spymaster and erstwhile scholar of Col's university.

Karn: An enquiry agent. Born in Marlier and orphaned as a child.

Pelletria: An enquiry agent.

Sharlac

A Lescari dukedom.

Insignia: a russet stag on a green ground.

Colours: brown and green.

Duke Moncan.

(Lord Jaras: Heir to Sharlac killed in battle by Veblen of Carluse.)

Lord Kerlin: Second son and now heir.

Lord Narese. Friend and associate of Lady Derenna.

Marlier

A Lescari dukedom.

Insignia: three silver swords on a scarlet ground.

Colours: silver-grey and red.

Duke Ferdain.

Ridianne: His mistress, lady of Sanlief Manor and captain of mercenaries.