Mordraud, Book One (41 page)

“
Come on, tell me all about it!”

Mordraud
described every moment of the battle, skipping only the most gruesome bits. His brother was too sensitive to hear all the macabre details. To round off, he also narrated the duel with the Lance, and found himself shouting with emotion. The more he thought about the scene, the better he felt.

“
I’ve slain a couple of those Lances... but he was the strongest of all. You can be sure of that!”

“
You talk about it all as if it were a pushover...”

“
No, it’s... I don’t know how to explain it... It was thrilling! First, total frigging fear... and then it’s gone! I’d never felt better – even my hand stopped trembling!”

Mordraud
had never talked to his brother about his disorder. He had always hidden it from everyone, but Gwern nodded, showing he understood perfectly.

“
And now? Are you going to stay here in Eld? Are you done with war?”

“
No! I’ve only just started, and guess what... Tomorrow morning I have to speak with Eldain! They’ve appointed me to give him the official news of the victory. It’s a great honour, you know!”

“
I’m happy for you...” replied Gwern, lacking some conviction.

“
Hey, brother, you needn’t worry...” Mordraud tousled his hair and hugged him. “Look, here...”

Mordraud
unlaced the money pouch and tipped the contents over Gwern’s head, who immediately scrambled on his knees to collect the coins, holding his breath. “But there’s lots of them... Forty gold pieces...”

“
Forty Scudos, or two hundred Florins. How much do you need?”

“
I didn’t think you’d really...” Gwern whispered, barely audible.

“
It was two thousand Florins you wanted, right? Well then, another... nine battles like this one, and we’re sorted!”

“
I can’t! It’s too much, and you’re risking your life...” Gwern closed up the small bag and pushed it into the pocket of Mordraud’s cape. “I don’t want it!”

“
Gwern, whether you like it or not, I’m going back to the war. Do you get it?! Stop being childish, and take this money. I can’t be wandering around with all this gold in my pocket.”

“
It’s dirty with blood...” whined Gwern, red in the face.

“
I’m dirty with blood too. Like all the money in this world, and like all the men. Only you are still innocent.”

Mordraud
brought out the pouch again and shoved it into his hands. “I have to send you off as soon as possible. I want you to have the chance to study – you’re the little genius of the family. Mum always used to say so...”

“
Really?!”

“
Yes, and she also used to say you were her favourite son, because you were calm and sensitive. Leave these things to me. The money’s not a problem. Neither’s the war.”

“
But will you promise me you’ll be careful?”

“
I’ve already told you. I won’t die, Gwern. But if it really looks like I might have to, then I’ll forget I’m supposed to die,” Mordraud repeated, remembering the promise he’d made to his brother on the evening they’d said goodbye to each other.

“
If you say it like that, it sounds a bit frightening...”

“
But it’s the truth. Now go back to bed. I have an appointment at the barracks, with the chancellor.”

Mordraud
left the room and shut the door behind him, after one last hug and a vigorous ruffling of the boy’s hair.

“
I’ll stop by again before I leave, don’t worry! Say hello to Larois for me!” he finished, already at the end of the road. The night was clear and chilly – a first taste of winter in mid-autumn. Gwern went back into the house, hid the coins inside a jar of salt, and flung himself onto the bed. He no longer wanted to read. All that blood, all those dead men his brother had described had killed his desire to let his imagination roam.

***

“Soldier Mordraud reporting, sir!”

“
Show him in.”

Mordraud
knelt down before the tall chair, his mouth twisting from the pain in his back. The fortnight’s ride hadn’t done much to help the burn that the resonance – or rather its light – had left him as a souvenir.

“
Please, to your feet, my boy. There’s no need for all this formality.”

“
At your command, sir!”

Eldain got up, chuckling, and invited
Mordraud to sit down at the council table. The room was empty and bare, as was fitting for the rebel leader’s lifestyle. Mordraud observed him, mesmerised by his stateliness, which had been left untouched by age and strain. Eldain poured wine into two bronze goblets and sat opposite him, awaiting the expected account. Mordraud didn’t require coaxing, and repeated off by heart the speech he’d prepared during his journey – the same he’d also given Gwern so he could go over it well.

“
From the way you tell it, it sounds like you were the hero of the Night of Fire...” Eldain broke in, smiling. Mordraud was certainly no artful speaker. He hadn’t even thought it might not be wise to narrate his foolish charge down off the Rampart, or his personal duel with the Lance. He’d let himself get excited, gesticulating like a madman.

“
No, well, sir... I’m sorry, I got a little carried away in my description...”

“
Don’t worry, I already knew most of the details. Various accounts reached the fiefdom before you. Mordraud the Beast. Mordraud of the Night of Fire... You already have quite a few nicknames, young man, were you aware?”

“
I don’t deserve them...”

“
Even you don’t believe that, do you?” Eldain laughed heartily. “You remind me of my youth. I had a nickname too.
The Executioner of the East
, you know? And for the same reason. I used to slay Lances. I was rather good at it.”

“
I’m sure you were, sir.”

Mordraud
felt an extraordinary sense of subservience before Eldain. He’d imagined the man in many ways: harsh, unbending, even cruel. That’s how a leader was supposed to be – that’s what he’d always thought. And instead, Eldain was showing a very different nature: kind, even with an ordinary soldier like him.

But
those eyes – as pale as pools of frozen water – were ready to reveal quite the contrary. It was the gaze of a merciless man.

“
If Adraman chose you to report to me, then that means he has great faith in you. Are you aware of that?”

Mordraud
nodded, without however grasping what Eldain was getting at. “You’ve proven yourself brave and motivated, my boy. You fought very well, and if you carry on like this, you’ll go far. But you must never lose sight of your orders, understood? Trust those men who, like Adraman and I, have been in combat in this war for many years.”

“
May I ask a question?” Mordraud suddenly inquired.

“
Of course. Go ahead.”

“
Why don’t... How can I put it?”

“
Just use your own words,” replied Eldain “Don’t be shy.”

“
Well, I was wondering why... What’s the reason behind...? Well, why you don’t lead your army on the battlefield? The men would follow you anywhere...”

Mordraud
was expecting a resounding rebuke for his brazenness, and instead Eldain said nothing. Sighing, he prepared a simple wooden pipe with a fill of very strong black tobacco, and grappled for the right words for a moment.

“
Do you know, my lad, why I don’t have a wife and children?”

“
No sir, but I didn’t mean to imply anything...”

“
I know, don’t worry. But I’d like to explain. You’re young, and so you can’t know certain things – you weren’t even born when they happened.”

“
Well, I got married when I was twenty-five, shortly after taking the reins in the war my father Elder had started with Cambria. It amounted to little more than a few skirmishes at the time, and in fact things stayed like that for years, until Loralon changed strategy... But that’s a different story. As I was saying...”

“
You were speaking about your wife,” Mordraud coaxed.

“
That’s right. We had a son, a dark-haired handsome boy with his mother’s deep brown eyes. I named him after his grandfather... Elder, my father... who’d died a few weeks before his birth. During those years I often went with the troops to the first ranks at the front, and was learning how to be a general from those who’d loyally served my father. Then, when spring came, I’d spend a month at the family estate on the east coast, as Rania loved the sea and the scent of warm sand... but I’m straying here. Would you like another drop of wine?”

“
No, thank you...” Mordraud wanted to know how the story ended. “Please continue.”

“
One year, the Empire became particularly aggressive. It was threatening the northern front in the Cambrinn area and the southern one too, where we’re currently fighting to keep the Hann Marshland – this is the front Adraman first served at as a soldier. He too has always been an excellent warrior. But I was saying: yet another spring came round, and I set off with all my family towards the coast. I was young and careless. I should have suspected it was the wrong year for such a move.”

“
And what happened?” Mordraud inquired anxiously.

“
Cambria had been studying my habits. There was an ambush on the main road. Lots of them, and I had only my personal bodyguard. I tried to stop them but I was unable. They captured me and put me in chains to take me to the capital – not before first killing my wife and child in front of my eyes.”

Eldain
had the very same expression as a man narrating old escapades. His voice didn’t waver for an instant, and his eyes remained clamped on Mordraud’s.

“
First Rania, then Elder. She with her head smashed on the ground while they raped her. He bled to death, his guts strewn around.”

Mordraud
had turned ashen and was unable to breath. Eldain drew on his pipe, blew the smoke above their heads, and carried on, perfectly at ease.

“
The next night, I ripped my jailer’s face off with my teeth. I freed myself, and I slaughtered... hmm, I couldn’t tell you how many. I lost count back then, so you can imagine now. I haven’t left Eld since that day, unless for very serious reasons. I never remarried, and I don’t lead my men in battle. I’m a danger for them. Do you see why?”

“
I’d say... to avoid Cambria focusing its might where you decide to set up camp to helm the army,” Mordraud replied in a faltering voice. “If you were on the Rampart, the Empire wouldn’t stop pounding it day and night, or it would send assassins to kill you.”

“
That’s right. Well done, my boy.”

“
I don’t know what to say...”

“
Then say nothing. What happened to me back then was horrific – as dreadful as my revenge then was. Still now, as you can see, I go on in this... But there’s nothing heroic or correct about war. Money or vendetta is the motivation – in my case, the latter... The only hope is that ideals do not come out of it sullied or lost.”

Mordraud was nodding in a dazed fashion.
Eldain smiled in amusement.

“
You’re wondering what ideals I’m talking about?”

“
Yes...”

“
I supposed so,” went on Eldain. “You’re young, the war had already begun before you were born. You can’t know just how much the lands in the east fear Cambria. You see, this great region I strive to defend has never been conquered by anyone. However many times Cambria might have tried over the centuries, we have always managed to preserve our independence. We have no intention of giving it up now... It would be an unbearable disgrace, to be shamed in the eyes of our people’s history.”

“
I’m afraid I don’t quite fully understand...” Mordraud ventured.

“
Don’t worry, it’ll become perfectly clear as you get older,” replied the nobleman, squeezing the young man’s arm in a firm grip.

“
But let’s get back to us. Since the first legends about you are already spreading, I propose an exchange.”

“
What do you mean?!”

“
If you require anything, then please ask and I will see if I can satisfy you. In exchange, you have to tell me one more time how you and Berg charged amidst Cambria’s army. The old bear and the young beast. Please forgive me if I laugh, but it must have been a somewhat surreal scene.”

“
I can narrate it for you a hundred times, if you ask me!”

“
No, I’d prefer just the once – but told well. And I shall pay you well in return. What would you like?”