The Dark Glory War (24 page)

Forty-eight ships with multicolored hulls and sails lay at anchor in Yslin harbor, waiting for us to head out. We knew more ships from Loquellyn would join us, but we were not certain how many of the elven vessels would be sent to us. The urZrethi had no ships and, truth be told, Faryaah-Tse Kimp didn’t look as if she wanted anything to do with the ocean. Still, the human component of the convoy would have twenty-four hundred combat troops and over double that number of sailors, who could be given swords and brought into combat if needed. It was a considerably large army and would be welcome relief to the defenders in Okrannel.

At least, that’s what I thought, but rumors spreading through the expeditionary force suggested otherwise. People said that Chytrine, who was at once identified as Kirun’s daughter or consort or both, had raised a vast horde of creatures that was even now overrunning Okrannel. It was even suggested that the messages coming from Svarskya were false, that no troops still awaited attack there, but that Chytrine had people sending hopeful messages to lure us into a trap.

Lord Norrington dismissed that idea instantly. “It makes no sense for her to allow messages that warn us of her horde to be sent forth, since that would allow us to oppose her. And no one in Jerana is reporting an influx of refugees, which would be expected if Okrannel had collapsed. Moreover, as King Stefin has noted, the messages are coming from his son, Prince Kirill. He says that if Chytrine has been able to train someone to think and write like Kirill, she’d be capable of other very difficult tasks and we should all just lose heart now.”

Lord Norrington did not play down other reports, though, of Chytrine having created an elite band of leaders for her troops, which she called thesullanciri. Men generally called them Dark Lancers and said they were renegade men, cunning vylaens, or some gibberkin magickally endowed with intelligence. There had been sightings of these malignant warriors in Okrannel, but details were vague. Rumor had it that Chytrine fed them their own shadows, which made them powerful and immortal, and that each had some special power it could use to defeat its foes.

“That rumor could well be true,” Leigh’s father admitted, “but to put too much stock in it is not good. Heslin will tell you that magick can always be countered or dispelled, and that spells are tricky things and can be quite literal. A spell that will blind fifty men might leave women with vision, or children, or elves. And in any event, a magicker with an arrow fixed in him is seldom good at casting spells.”

Part of me shivered at the idea of facing magickally strengthened foes, but another part accepted it. After all, if Chytrine could create truly immortal warriors, she’d have come south and conquered everything ages ago. It could be that such magicks had only recently been invented or perfected, but if they existed she’d not have needed the scouting groups that had come down through Oriosa. No, I decided, her magicks might give some of her troops an edge, but there had to be a limit to even her power.

The preparations continued apace and without much in the way of upset until the eve of departure. The plan had been finalized earlier that day in the Kings’ Council. Prince Scrainwood was given command of the whole expedition, though Lord Norrington was the warlord and would make all the decisions having to do with combat. He would be shipping aboard the Alcidese shipInvictus, while Prince Scrainwood traveled on the Jeranese shipVenator. That suited me fine, since the further he was from me, the better I liked it.

The expedition would head with all possible speed to Okrannel, intent on relieving Crozt. From there we would move down the coast to Svarskya and lift any Aurolani siege. After that, as determined by communications from Fortress Draconis, we would either sail east to bolster the fortress’ garrison, or raid the Ghost Marches and shatter the pirate havens there.

On the eve of our departure, I traveled with Leigh, Nay, Lord Norrington, and others to the largest of the Kedyn temples in Yslin. Night had already fallen as we made our way up the granite steps. I was running through in my mind the things I’d seen and the stories I’d heard, and trying to think what I would offer for a prayer when I bumped into someone. I bounced back down a step, smiled and offered a “Beg pardon,” by reflex.

Resolute nodded quietly. “I should have expected your preoccupation.”

I saw Nay turn back and look at me from the top of the stairs, but I waved him on. “Have you just come from making a sacrifice?”

“To Kedyn? No.” The elf shook his head. “The god I know that fills Kedyn’s niche in our pantheon does not suck incense and gather around him dead warriors the way old men gather pigeons when they spread stale bread about.”

I tried to hid my reaction to the scorn in his voice, but I’m not sure I managed it at all well. “Why are you here, then?”

“I came to speak with you.” He lifted his chin and bared his throat. “Jentellin informed Amends of the plans for your campaign.”

“Yes, it’s all very exciting, isn’t it?”

“Exciting, I suppose, but that is not for me to discover.”

“What?”

“I won’t be going with you.”

I rocked back a step and half-stumbled to the next level. “You won’t be going? Why not? I mean, this is it, this is the chance to strike back at Chytrine. This is the chance to destroy her.”

“I know.” His silver eyes reflected the thin sliver of a new moon. “My goal has never been her death. My goal is the liberation of my homeland. As noble and good as your cause is, it is notmy cause. I know you will acquit yourself well. Chytrine will regret her action, but Vorquellyn will still be under her control.”

I shook my head. “But, don’t you see? Once we break her army, we’ll clean the pirates out of the Ghost Marches. Once we do that, we will isolate Vorquellyn and can take it back.

Doing this gets us one step closer to freeing Vorquellyn. You have to see that, Resolute.“

“No, Hawkins, I don’t have to see that. What I do see is that the same sort of success against her a century ago did not free Vorquellyn. If I go, if I agree, I am saying that a partial effort is sufficient, and I cannot say that. If I do, then Amends and Jentellin will know I’ve lost my resolve. I never will. I am Resolute; it is my name and it isme. As much as I want to go with you, I cannot until an expedition is sent to free my home.”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “I understand what you are saying. I wish I could convince you otherwise. Having at least one Vorquelf with us would have frightened Chytrine so much she’d already be retreating.”

“Vorquelves will travel with you, fight with you. I am seen as extreme by some of my own kind, but I’ll accept that burden.” He opened a pouch on his belt and withdrew a patch of fur. He handed it to me. “I took this from one of the gibberers you slew. Lord Norrington asked me for a strip of it for your mask. This piece I give to you for inside the temple, for your sacrifice.”

I frowned. “I’ll buy incense …”

“Listen to me, Tarrant Hawkins, listen well. Here Kedyn is shepherd to ghosts, and even in your land he is a proud guardian. You forget he embodies war. He is flesh and blood and bone—all the things we saw and did at Atval. He is the master of it all and offerings of incense are just too polite for him. Burn this, Hawkins, let the stink of it drift from you to him. He’ll know that you know the truth of war. He will remember you. When Death hands him the roll of who will be called, he’ll strike your name from the list. You’ll be saved for great things, and terrible things.”

I shivered, then looked him in the eye. “Is this how you survive?”

The elf laughed, and it was not a wholly pleasant sound. “One of the ways, yes.” He slapped me on the arm. “Good luck, Hawkins—brave heart, clear eye, and sharp blade. Your name will be on everyone’s lips when this expedition ends.”

“Right. Then you and I go and liberate Vorquellyn.”

“That we will.” The elf tossed me a quick salute, then skipped off down the stairs.

I stroked my thumb across the mottled fur as I entered the temple. I paid for two charcoal shields and incense, then walked down to the statue of Kedyn. I knelt at the base, then looked up into the unseeing eyes set in a handsome face. The armored breastplate covering his torso had been carved with dozens of faces and it was easy to imagine they were matched by smaller statues in the long hall behind Kedyn. Looking between the statue’s feet I could see warriors choking the gallery, burning incense and lighting candles.

My flesh puckered. Using my charcoal shields, I scraped several glowing coals together into a pile. I sprinkled a little incense on it, just to get Kedyn’s attention, then I tossed the small patch of fur over them. The fur itself began to curl into little knots. The acrid scent of burning fur exploded up into my face as the fur caught fire. I coughed and my eyes watered, but I watched the column of smoke rise and caress the statue’s face.

With my hands in their proper places, I bowed my head. “Kedyn, on this, the eve of a great expedition, I ask of you nothing that I have not asked before. Grant me the opportunity to prove myself to be brave and a boon companion to those who fight on my side. May I always see my duty and acquit it, without hesitation. If it is your will that I survive, in this I will be pleased. If I am to die, let me do so facing my enemy. Steady my hand, shield me from pain, and let all glory and honor be yours.”

I looked back up, but saw no sign that my prayer had been heard. While Resolute could have been right, that offering that sacrifice would bring me favorable notice with Kedyn, part of me assumed that being ignored by the gods wasn’t much worse than being noticed by them. Countless were the tragic tales in which the gods chose to make a man’s life interesting. Heading off to war, I didn’t need the help of the gods to make my lifemore interesting.

As it turned out, what Ineeded and what Igot were two different things entirely.

Te sailed with the tide and it came early, so we were out on | the open sea before the rising sun splashed bloody highlights over the calm water. The cries of seagulls, the dull booming of the stroke-drums and the crisp snap of canvas filled the dawn, but all played as accents over the consistent hiss of water against the hull. I stood on the forecastle of theInvictus, feeling the wind against my face.

We were off, at last, bound for a glorious war. You could read the enthusiasm on everyone’s faces, including the sailors pulling at the oars. We were the select force that would make the world safe. Our mission was clear, it was simple and we would do it. Men dared boast of the creatures they would kill and talk about the riches they would win. By the time snow flew we’d all be home, warming ourselves before fires, spinning tale after tale for friends and family.

Even now, though, as I look back on that first morning, there were signs of trouble I should have seen. We almost didn’t leave that morning because of a conflict among some of the captains. A number of them, from Jerana mostly, said our fleet should make an offering to theweirun of the sea, Tagothcha. Without such an offering he could turn the wind and water against us, stretching out what would be a week’s journey into a month or more. A gallon of wine, a slain pig, a scattering of gold coins, any of those would have been enough to appease him.

The Alcidese captains countered that Tagothcha slept during the summer, and offers made to him during that time might wake him. The annual autumn storm season was pointed to as evidence that Tagothcha was not pleasant while still half-asleep. It was well known, they pointed out, that waves on the ocean were the furrows on Tagothcha’s brow, and while he slept they were small. If he awakened angry, however, his frown could sink ships.

Lord Norrington, who knew little of Tagothcha’s ways because our nation is landlocked, sided with the Alcidese contingent. None of us had any doubt theweirun existed and would be a nasty enemy if he opposed us, but leaving him alone seemed the wiser course. We sailed quietly, hoping the sea-spirit would think us nothing more than a dream.

The trip itselfdid have dreamlike qualities, though not for Leigh. Nay and I seemed to weather the ship’s bobbing up and down at anchor, or the surge and crash of making headway against wavelets. Leigh turned a most unnatural shade of grey and spent much of his time at the wales, making his own offerings to Tagothcha, as the sailors put it. He looked miserable and said he felt worse. He managed to keep down some watered wine and porridge, though not much of either, and he started losing weight.

Late on the first day we sailed past Vilwan, the island magickers proclaimed as their own. While each nation, and even each town, had a magicker or two capable of teaching those who had the Spark how to work magicks, Vilwan was the place where the most talented came, to learn and create and teach. We did not venture close to it, and the rocky cliffsides were not terribly inviting. Moreover, what should have been green hillsides in the island’s interior were patched with yellow and red and purple and blue vegetation. Heslin, who said he’d gone to Vilwan once, when much younger, assured me there was nothing unusual about the odd-colored plants. I humored him, but still shivered when I glanced at the island.

A little ship did join us, sailing out from Vilwan. It had no oars and only a small sail, but caught up with us easily enough and maintained the fleet’s pace. Twenty or so men and women, mostly all human, crewed the ship, with five of them taking a two-hour shift at a time. Everyone in the fleet soon realized they were moving their ship by magick, and when we translated the effort of our crew into what five of them were doing at any one time, well, we were suddenly happy to have them along as allies in the fight.

Early the second day I found our Vorquelf on the forecastle. Her long, black hair streamed behind her and her gold eyes burned with the light from the rising sun. She wore hunting leathers of a deep blue and had a gold earring dangling from her right earlobe. I’d recognized her from Resolute’s trial and had been told her name was Seethe.

She smiled at me as I leaned against the rail next to her. “Good morning, Master Hawkins.”