The Storm's Own Son (Book 3) (23 page)

BOOK: The Storm's Own Son (Book 3)
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Further discussion passed among the commanders, including plans for the rest of the march north and the initial encirclement of Idrona. When the hour grew late, Talaos raised his right hand to speak, and the group quieted.

"Commanders, it is good. We've taken the largest and most unlikely collection of troops in the history of Hunyos, and have begun to forge them into a united fighting force unlike anything seen here since the fall of the old Empire. We'll put it to the test at Idrona. But when we've won, we should consider what this means for the future, and for all of us.

"The enemy is still there, in Dirion, and across the eastern sea. Divided, we'll be picked apart one by one, as we almost were. Let's remember the lessons we're learning."

There were nods and words of agreement around the room. Then the commanders saluted him, and he returned it. They departed to sleep in preparation for a new day of work awaiting them. Talaos however, had a night's work ahead of him. With so much to do, his study of the language of the Prophet had fallen off lately and he hoped to renew it. And, it would help take his mind off what he'd seen at Etosca.

 

~

 

Talaos had added a variety of cushions and extra blankets to the comforts of his tent. With them he'd made a kind of sprawling, informal bed or couch, and sat there reading by the light of a pair of lamps on his bookshelf. His back was propped against a pile of cushions in turn braced against his cot. He had a book in his left hand, and his legs stretched out comfortably.

Miriana was curled up at his left side, her head propped beneath his arm, between his chest and a big pillow. She was reading another of the Prophet's books. Her dusty clothes were piled in a corner, and she was wrapped in a blanket. Her masses of auburn hair flowed loose over his bare waist.

Outside, a gentle wind blew, and a squad of men, both Wolves and Stormguard, stood on duty. The Madmen had taken up a rotating command on watch, and Halmir was in charge at the moment. From outside the cloth door of the tent, the Northman spoke in the informal way that only he, his fellow Madmen, and a handful of others still used with Talaos.

"Talaos, Sorya and Katara are here. They would like to visit you," he said.

Talaos smiled, "Send them in."

Miriana peered curiously up over the top of her book as the two women entered, then smiled. Sorya nodded at them. Katara bowed her head to Talaos and smiled at Miriana.

Talaos observed them with curiosity, then spoke with a teasing glint in his eyes, "The wind is a bit gentle to have blown you randomly to my tent, particularly in those clothes."

Though wrapped in cloaks, Sorya and Katara were both clad lightly in dresses, and looked well cleaned and washed. The two women looked at each other, then back at Talaos.

Sorya spoke, "Tal… We were… missing your company tonight. I know this is the first quiet night you've had in a while, I do… but…"

He smiled, "I wouldn't mind the company, and it wouldn't hurt if we all shared a little quiet. There's room."

Katara surveyed the array of cushions and blankets, and made a little smile, "My lord, it is as if you expected us."

"In truth," he said, "I did."

Miriana beamed at them, "I've never seen you both in dresses at the same time before… and Katara, you hardly ever. You look beautiful!"

Sorya seemed unsure how to reply, but Katara smiled. Then the Northwoman had another thought, and added, "Thank you, Miriana, and you as well. I wondered, could I borrow that book of the Prophet's history? I am curious about what lies he has to tell."

Miriana smiled, "I just finished it today, in fact. If you can get past his preaching, it actually has a lot of interesting stories. It's over there, on Tal's table."

Sorya gave Miriana a lopsided smile. "How you manage to ride a horse and read at the same time is completely beyond me."

"It's relaxing," replied Miriana casually, as if it was a common thing.

For her part, Katara walked over to the table, undressed without any sign of self-consciousness, picked up the book, and walked over to Talaos's right side. He kissed her. She rested her head against a pillow at his shoulder, pulled up a blanket, and began to read. Miriana watched her curiously the entire way through.

Talaos watched Katara with interest as well. Literacy was said to be far from common in Vorhame, still less so in the Imperial language. But tales, history, and poems told from memory were great and valued things there. Katara had once said that her father, before they fell out, had acquiesced to her curiosity and given her a tutor. That tutor was a highborn, scholarly young woman captured from the Seven Realms by raiders of Narhame, who had later escaped to Vorhame. Katara had learned much from her.

While Katara acted, and Talaos and Miriana reflected, Sorya stood there in some apparent discomfort. At last she spoke, "Ah… I, um… Miriana. I didn't know you'd be here. I guess I should've thought this out. It's a little bit…"

Miriana seemed undisturbed. "I don't understand why you're shy with me. You and Katara sleep in the same tent, and you used to share the same cabin on the ship. You must have seen each other naked many times. Why would I be so different?"

That only seemed to increase the awkwardness of the moment for Sorya. "Yes, but she and I have known each other a while, and we've been… together… with and without Tal."

"I know. I pictured you together, even before I met you," replied Miriana, as if Sorya had stated some obvious fact about the weather.

"All right, but Miriana, aren't you jealous of us dropping in like this?" continued Sorya.

"Why would I be?" Miriana replied. "We make a kind of family. Husband and wives."

"Again, who said we were Tal's wives?" replied Sorya, though she'd at last given up her struggle and begun to undress.

"Aren't we, in our hearts?" Miriana answered.

"Yes," replied Katara, without looking up from her book.

Sorya finished undressing and walked over to Talaos's left side. Then she asked him, earnestly, in a quiet voice, "Do you really have room in your heart for the three of us?"

"Yes. I love you all, and who can define the limits of love?" he answered reflectively. Then, with a hint of his more usual edged humor, "There might only be so much time and attention in life, but we're all here together in one spot, and that simplifies things."

She sighed, "That it does. Wife? Hmm…"

Then Sorya slid her slender body over both Katara and Talaos, kissed him passionately, and then slid back to squirm out a space between their hips. She put her head on Talaos's stomach and curled herself tight between them, an arm around his hip and legs twined with hers. Miriana's wild hair spread around them all.

Talaos smiled, in wonder at the beauty of the world and love for the women with him. Several times Miriana had called the three of them his wives. The first time perhaps in jest, or half in jest, but quite seriously now. Three wives. Three women who'd come to him from the far end of the world, braving danger and the teeth of war to ride at his side and share his tent.

He thought too of Liriel. She had once said he'd freed and conquered her as he'd freed and conquered Avrosa. Both she and her city had submitted to him, given themselves to him, and loved him. Yet, they remained very much their own. Liriel had chosen to remain in Avrosa, as was her right.

But these three were here, now, together with him. They'd returned across half the known world and cast their fates with his, come what may. If any women in the world had claim to be his wives, had earned it with their hearts, minds, and deeds, it was these three. Of course, for centuries in this part of the world it had been rare, even scandalous, to take more than one spouse.

Then again, he reflected, why? It was said to be otherwise in the Southlands.  Even here, such mores had never in practice prevented the powerful from keeping concubines, or the unscrupulous from carrying out affairs. He considered his role as leader, and that everything he did was watched by those who followed him. However unprecedented his deeds, he still operated firmly within the laws and customs of Hunyos, and the expectations that went with them. Someday, he thought with a smile, he might change such expectations, but probably not now, in the comfort of this moment.

He sat happily for a long while, reading in the lamplight with Miriana and Katara at his sides doing the same. Sorya, at his hip, quietly fell asleep. A while later, Katara began to yawn as well, and put down her book. She turned to him, and he put a hand under her chin as he kissed her. She smiled and ran her hand along the muscles of his chest and arms.

Musingly, she said, "Husband… Lord and husband of my heart."

He smiled and gazed into her eyes happily. She curled herself against him, head at his shoulder, breasts pressed against his chest, and body pressing Sorya between them. She put an arm across them both, then fell almost immediately to sleep. He wrapped his right arm around her, and with it held the two of them close.

Miriana continued to read intently for a long time, until at last even she grew tired. She yawned, put down her book, and turned over to face him. The blanket fell from her fair, voluptuous little body. She stared for a while, with fascination, into the lightning of his eyes.

Then she said, wistfully, "It must be wonderful not to grow tired. Sleep is such a bore."

"I always thought so," he replied, "and life is short."

"Not if you become a god."

"We shall see."

"And we would be your three wives… one and three… three wives, three loves, three fates bound with yours… three fates…" she whispered, with a hint of lofty distance rising in her voice.

"Peace, my love," he said, gently.

"Ah… sorry," she smiled, then some new thought grew in her eyes, and in an intense voice she added, "No matter what comes, I love you. No matter what!"

She leaned over, legs folded under her and breasts brushing him. He kissed her for a long time with his hand around her bare, smooth waist and hip. Then he gently guided her back, and she curled up with her head on his chest between Katara's and Sorya's.  She sighed, and slept.

He no longer had a comfortable way to hold his book, but he didn't mind. He put it down, and his left arm around her, and then sat deep in his thoughts through the hours until dawn.

 

~

 

The lofty walls of Idrona, largest and mightiest city of Hunyos, were packed with soldiers. Artillery engines of many sorts sat ready atop the towers. Others had been positioned on recent-looking wooden platforms built along the walls. The great port city surrounded a vast circular harbor, and that harbor was full of ships bottled in by Talaos's now greatly superior fleet.

From seashore to seashore around the roughly half-hexagonal walls of the city, a trench had been dug; or rather, an old one deepened and reopened to the sea. Beyond it stretched a shallower trench full of sharpened stakes. The space in between looked to be a perfect killing zone, where assaulting soldiers could be cut down by ballistae and archers.

Against those formidable defenses, Talaos had nearly fifty thousand men in his besieging force. Here at hand arrayed nine thousand light and two thousand heavy cavalry, twenty-five thousand heavy footmen, thousands of irregulars and archers of all sorts, siege engineers, hillmen, and his various special troops.

Even now, as he watched, Aro and Tescani had the initial encirclement under way. With many years of experience between them, it was unfolding with precision. Light cavalry patrolled both at the innermost and outermost perimeters while the formations of heavy foot slowly took up their places surrounding the city.

Engineers were already measuring the first of the inner siege trench lines. That first one would be safely far from even the longest ranged artillery. Others surveyed the outer trench line that would guard them, along with a palisade, in the event of an attack by a relieving army.

He'd had good news from the north, from Lazla, Drenic, and the large town of Caunea between them. All three allies had held fast and were now implementing his call to exile the Prophet's followers. Only Drenic had them in any numbers, but it seemed they’d been driven out after bloody street fighting.  Kossos, further north, was another matter.  The city was now dominated by followers of the Prophet, and had formally renounced its previous alliance. However, neither had it declared for anyone else.

To the northwest, Maxano had faced some tough fighting from partisans of the Prophet, but had emerged victorious as Dictator of Kyras. Word was he had an army on the way. Mileno, former ally of Kyras and Idrona, had never had more than a handful of the Prophet's people. It had quickly switched sides, and without much trouble implemented his call to exile.

All across the countryside, the local warlords and leagues of towns had come around, and leaders opposed to doing so had usually soon found themselves out of power, or out of life. That left Savaric, the farthest northern city in Hunyos, as Idrona's last declared ally. They had killed Talaos’s messengers and refused any further entreaties, even through neutral parties. A rumor spread that they'd sent diplomats north, to the plainsmen kings in old Dirion.

All this Talaos considered as he sat astride Honor.  The Madmen, Wolves, wives of his heart and numerous officers and messengers stood ready around him. Behind were standard bearers and musicians, on hand to give signals as needed.

BOOK: The Storm's Own Son (Book 3)
3.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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