DragonCrown Saga - The Grand Crusade Part 20

Kerrigan glanced back. "Seven against an empire."

"Eight, counting Will."

"Right." Kerrigan's voice shrank. "It will be eight, won't it?"

The Vorquelf reached out and slapped a hand against Kerrigan's shoulder. "That's the only command I'll give my little company: no dying."

"Disobey that order and you'll kill us?"

"Worse, I'll bring you back."

Kerrigan frowned. "If you go back to being quiet, will your sense of humor go away, too?"

"I wasn't joking."

"Okay, well, I think I'm all talked out now."

Resolute laughed, and discovered he didn't mind the sound, as alien as it felt rolling from his throat. "We will do what we must, Kerrigan. We may be the smallest force in this war, but our mission is the most vital. We can't fail, so we won't. Anyone who gets between us and our goal will discover I can be distinctly unfunny, and I won't mind making that quite obvious to them."

General Markus Adrogans found Pain's quiescence mildly disturbing. It had been nearly a week since his troops had quitted Svarskya and begun the arduous trek into the mountains that separated Okrannel from the Ghost March. The Okrans in his command were able to spin out nightly stories of the battles fought in those fastnesses, both against the Aurolani and, before them, the Norivese. They made no attempt to disguise their contempt for those who had lost their nation at the same time Vorquellyn had fallen-though the stories of their battles left no question that the Norivese had once been formidable foes. Being from Jerana, Adrogans knew little of the Norivese. In times past they used to sail down the coast and do some raiding, but they seldom hit anything beyond rich Okrans ports. Their galleys had sported black sails with a big red ball in the middle and they had been savage enough raiders that the Jeranese had not mourned their conquest. Feelings toward them had been much hotter in Okrannel, since it was much more frequently a target of their raids. Though it did boggle his mind that the Aurolani could have been seen as an improvement by the Okrans, there was logic to it.

After all, the Aurolani had been content to let the Okrans occupy these mountains. Prior to that, the mountains had been something of a no-man's-land. Both nations claimed it, and regularly fought over it, but seldom in anything more than a b.l.o.o.d.y skirmish or raid. The Norivese preferred to attack by the sea and the Okrans could call up enough troops quickly to fend off landward raids. When Noriva fell to the Aurolani, the Okrans occupied the mountains. Unfortunately for them, they arrayed themselves to defend against raids and when Chytrine came for Okrannel, she brought armies.

Standing in his stirrups, he studied the long line of men, horses, and equip- ment working its way through the mountain valley. He had scouts and outriders throughout the mountains, and Gyrkyme overhead to guard against surprises, but even knowing the path was clear did not allow him speed. Though winter would be retreating soon enough, in the mountains that far north it would be a slow process. So his troops still struggled through deep drifts and consumed a lot of food to keep up their strength.

And, ultimately, they could travel no faster than their supplies and equipment, and those moved along at the torpid pace of eight miles a day. The travel day was long as well, starting before dawn and ending after sunset, with the bonfires created by the forward scouts luring the men into camp.

The twenty dragonels were difficult to move because both they and their supplies were heavy. Soldiers grumbled because none of that stuff could be eaten, and they'd not seen the dragonels in use enough to realize their power. In fact, his troops tended to discount that power since they'd already defeated an enemy who had dragonels, conveniently forgetting that the weapons actually had not been used against them.

Despite the grumbling-and when was there ever an army that did not grumble about something -morale was high among the troops. But there was no reason it shouldn't be, since these were the men and women who had fought a winter war and won against an enemy better used to winter than they were. One and all were ready to shed their heavy clothes and fight "in proper weather." They very much liked the fact that they were violating nebulous orders from far Narriz. None of them were fighting for their countries; they were fighting for him and their comrades.

Phfas rode up beside him, letting a yellow-toothed grin split his leathery face. "The progress is good."

"You are not worried about how quiet theyrunare?"

The Zhusk shaman shook his head. "This far from home they grow sleepy."

Adrogans frowned. "I did not think they were tied to place asweirunare."

"They are tied, as are you, to the place you were bound to them." The skinny little man shrugged. "If you listen carefully, you will hear them."

The Jeranese general pa.s.sed a hand over his eyes. "They will not be as useful to me as they have been, then?"

Phfas shook his head curtly. "The Zhusk may venture far from home, but theyrundo not."

A bubble of annoyance rose from the pit of his stomach. Pain had been terribly useful in pinpointing enemy formations based on the misery of the troops waiting for him. While he had not enjoyed her riding him as she glutted herself on the pain of a battlefield, the times she had let him project agony into creatures had been very useful and had saved countless lives.

He thought for a moment, rather surprised at his reaction. The loss of battlefield information was the most critical to his situation, for with that information he became a better general. Knowledgeable about his enemy, the condition of the troops, the possibility of hidden reserves, all of those things let him issue orders that made his force more effective.

The ability to project pain, on the other hand, made him a better warrior-a superior warrior. On the surface that might seem a very good thing. It certainly had boded well for his people when faced with boombags at theSvar Bridge.Without that ability, serious damage would have been done to his troops and might have even prevented him from taking Svarskya.

What made him a superior warrior, however, would make him less of a good general. He had no fear of combat, and had seen more than his share of it in his long career. Even on the winter campaign, he had fought and been in personal jeopardy. Despite that, his true role was to rise above the skirling chaos of battle and issue orders that would win victories. Empowered by Pain or any otheryrun, he would forget what he was best at and forget what his people could do.

He glanced down at Phfas. "Why didn't you tell me about this?"

Another shrug, then a little grin. "I have never been so far from Zhusk."

Adrogans laughed. "How does it feel to be mortal again?"

"I have been linked withyrunfor longer than I have not. I feel naked and old."

"If that's going to be a problem for you and your other people, I can arrange for you to head back to Okrannel."

The little man rubbed a bony hand over his nose. "No. Some stories tell that the Zhusk came from the north. We hunted these lands before the Okrans. I want to see where we came from."

"Do you think you will find another place to reconnect with theyrunV Phfas shrugged. "It matters not. This is no longer theyrun'swar. It is no longer a Zhusk war."

"Then why do you come?"

The shaman threw his head back and brayed out a sharp laugh. "Are you like the others, nephew?"

Adrogans growled. "Don't speak in riddles."

"Think clearly. It is no puzzle."

Adrogans sc.r.a.ped a hand over the stubble on his jaw. The Zhusk were an aboriginal people who existed on the Zhusk Plateau, near the Okrans border with Jerana. They acknowledged no masters, paid no tribute, and in their homeland could be very nasty fighters. Adrogans had a.s.sumed that because he was half-Zhusk and had fought so long against the Aurolani that Phfas and the others had joined the fight out of a sense of personal loyalty. With their homeland no longer threatened, he wondered if they would return home.

"It is still a puzzle."

Phfas shook his head, then laid a hand on Adrogans' knee. "Even you stop thinking of the Zhusk asmen.

This war is a man war. The Zhusk do notlikeany other men. We see them as foes, but they are stillmen. If we abandon our kindred to the Aurolani, we are not men."

Adrogans dropped his right hand to Phfas' left. "I beg your pardon, Uncle. You are right. I had stopped thinking of you as men."

"It is a common affliction... among men." The shaman traced a finger along the long line of people struggling through the valley. "All of them are far from home. None of them haveyrun. If they go on, so do we."

The scouts located a good place to camp before the eight-mile mark, and Adrogans called for an early halt to let men and beasts rest. He wondered if his a.s.sociation with Pain had blinded him to the hards.h.i.+ps his people were feeling, so the early rest and some extra rations buoyed spirits.

Duranlaun, a Gyrkyme warhawk, reported to Adrogans just after the sun had gone down. "My scouts have ranged far ahead of the column. By footfall you have four more days before you leave the mountains."

Adrogans nodded and rolled out a map on which he had been tracking the army's advance. "We'll be coming out into foothills that have some drainage heading east, but nothing navigable. What have you seen beyond the mountains?"

The Gyrkyme tapped a talon about an inch from the mountains at a point near a delta that indicated a river that originated in the Boreal mountains of Aurolan. "There is a large settlement here. It is built over the ruins of a city. It does not seem that old, but has some fortifications built up. Log palisades, some earthworks; nothing substantial."

"Do you think we can take it without dragonels?"

"Possible. I will send more people out there and we will bring back plans as best as we can draw them."

"How far away are the Nalisk Mountain Rangers?"

"A day."

"Good. I'll have orders ready for you in the morning to take to them. I will want them to reconnoiter."

Adrogans scratched at his beard stubble. "Anything remarkable?"

The Gyrkyme blinked large amber eyes. "A road to the east. It is a muddy track, but sufficiently well traveled to be free of snow. There are barges at the encampment, but they are iced in the river."

"So, whatever is being s.h.i.+pped is desired so much to the east that they're hauling in the winter, not willing to wait for the barges to get free. Have your people search the delta for a place where the barge cargo can be loaded on s.h.i.+ps." The general thought for a moment. "It has to be lumber. If they were mining ore, they would refine it there and s.h.i.+p it out. We'd see the smoke from the foundry and forges."

Duranlaun nodded. "The forests are being harvested. For the palisades, certainly, and fuel, but more."

Adrogans nodded. If they were harvesting lumber, it was probably going for s.h.i.+pbuilding. That idea sent a thrill through him. "Also track what they're bringing back in. They have to be doing something to feed the people."

"As you wish, General."

The Gyrkyme saluted. Adrogans returned it, then the winged warrior departed the tent.

Adrogans stared at the map. Seven hundred and twenty miles separated him from Sebcia, if he marched all the way through the Ghost March, past Fortress Draconis and down along the route Princess Alexia had taken to Oriosa. At his present rate of travel it would take him three months to complete the journey- and that only if there was no fighting to slow him down. Realistically, he'd be contested every inch of the way, and Chytrine might hit him with a force so powerful that his entire army would be wiped out.

That had always been part of the calculation. While locating and destroying an invasion fleet was his immediate mission, doing all he could to force Chytrine to devote troops to deal with him came in a very strong second. It would be all but impossible for his troops to reach Sebcia and play any part in the war against Chytrine there unless they used s.h.i.+ps, sailing past Vorquellyn to Sebcia.

Unfortunately, that bit of strategy was out of the question, but the sea might have its uses. As it stood, his supply line was hideously stretched through the mountains. Any supplies coming for him in Svarskya could be diverted to the Ghost March. Taking this first town and using it as a supply base would be vital.

Once he did that, the push east would be a bit easier. He'd also have a haven to retreat to-and, from there, withdrawing into the mountains was also possible. Adrogans tapped his own finger to the map where the Gyrkyme had placed the town. "I don't know what your name is, but you will be famous. You will be the first victory in the Ghost March campaign, and your fame will live on long after I am dead."

Though she had not been invited to the meeting, nor was Isaura barred from it. Her mother'ssullanciri a.s.sembled in the fortress' Grand Hall. Morning light slanted in through frosted windows, lengthening and thinning the shadows of the creatures her mother had created to serve her. Isaura knew those of the south feared her mother's generals, and some did make her uneasy, but she never had seen them as the nightmare beasts others did.

Isaura had not come to the meeting to see them, however, but to see her mother. In the week since she had been introduced to the Oromise, Isaura had seen virtually nothing of her mother. The lack of contact concerned her primarily because her mother had not quite been herself. Having a spell cast on her via one of the DragonCrown fragments clearly surprised and angered her, and Isaura had feared that her further reaction would carry her deeper into the paranoia the spell had inspired.

Watching her mother sweep into the room quickly dispelled that notion. Chytrine had chosen to shape herself with the same proportions as an elf, though she did overtop Quiarsca by an inch or two.

Moreover, the empress had layered thick muscle on that slender frame, much as some Vorquelves did, and a gentle blue tracery of arcane symbols decorated the pale flesh of her arms.

Her arms and face were the only skin that showed. Chytrine wore a gown of drearbeast leather, tan and supple save where fur trimmed it around the waist, collar, and hem. The garment had to be heavy, but she moved effortlessly in it. Her golden hair remained loose, falling to cover her bare shoulders, for the gown had no sleeves. She wore no weaponry, but there was no hint of vulnerability about her either.

The empress took her place at the curve of a horseshoe-shaped table. "You have all pleased me with your efforts. Anarus, despite some setbacks, the conquest of Muroso has been splendid. I expect your performance will continue to s.h.i.+ne under the direction of Nefrai-kesh, for he will now command my army of the east."

The lupinesullancirinodded, then snarled in Nefrai-kesh's direction. Part of the snarl came from his being subordinated to the othersullanciri, especially since Nefrai-kesh had lost Okrannel. Still, Nefrai-kesh had been the first of Chytrine's newsullanciriand her most faithful, so his being elevated could have surprised no one.

Isaura suspected more of the snarl was for Nekaamu, who hung on Nefrai-kesh like a cat-skin cloak, purring and caressing. The king of thesullancirisomehow ignored her, but he couldn't have found her antics unpleasant. With the flick of a hand he could have tossed her off. That her actions were annoying Anarus was apparent, and for some reason Nefrai-kesh wanted him distracted, but Isaura could not imagine why.

Her mother continued. "Our war with the south progresses very well-so well that our resources can be s.h.i.+fted and our drive focused. Nekaamu, you will proceed south to where preparations have been laid on to launch an amphibious a.s.sault. The fleet is ma.s.sing in the Ghost March, larger than you have ever commanded before. Nefrai-kesh will direct your a.s.sault to where it shall do the most good, but you must be prepared to move inside two months."

The feline piratesullancirilicked at Nefrai-kesh's right cheek. "I will do anything you bid me, my lord."

Nefrai-kesh raised his hand, scratched behind her ear, then let his hand slip down to take hold of her throat. "Of course you will, and you will succeed, or die trying."

Thesullanciritried to mew, but it came out broken before he relaxed his grip.

Chytrine slowly smiled and Isaura felt herself smiling, too. Her mother's serenity had returned, and with it a clarity that made Isaura feel secure. She still recalled that her mother thought someone would betray her, but now she hoped that was just because of the spell. /don't want to be the one who betrays her.

The empress nodded toward Ferxigo, the urZrethisullanciriat the end of the table opposite Myrall'mara.

"You have dealt with your a.s.signment splendidly, so I am entrusting to you the defense of Aurolan. To aid you will be Hlucri and my daughter, Isaura."

Isaura gasped and Chytrine looked up at her. "What is it, daughter? Did you think I would send you into the field with my troops?"

"No, Mother, I had not thought that far. What surprises me is that you think we are in jeopardy."

Nefrai-kesh nodded solemnly. "Aurolan is not an easy place to threaten, but to a.s.sume we are invulnerable is to leave us open. It is doubtful that the south can muster a force sufficient to attack and destroy our homeland while holding off our armies. Still, they are clever, and could well try to repeat the folly of the past. We must guard against that."

MyralPmara-luminous, tall, and slender-hissed almost silently. "It will be Resolute."

The sulfur-coloredsullancirishrugged her shoulders and s.h.i.+fted her shape enough that she sprouted a brush of short white hair on her skull. "He has failed to destroy Aurolan for over a century. He will fail again."

Nefrai-kesh shook his head. "As formidable as Resolute may be, he is not the true threat. Markus Adrogans is."

Anarus growled loudly. "You should have smashed him at Svarskya."

Chytrine slapped a hand flat on the table, with a crack like ice snapping. "The Okrannel campaign was conducted as per my directive. Adrogans will bear watching, but his own people will watch him, too. He will be leashed. But Adrogans is not your concern. You, Anarus, will consolidate Muroso, then you will wait. Tythsai will be responsible for operations in Saporicia, and you will perform as Nefrai-kesh directs."

The wolf-man bared his fangs. "For what shall I wait, Mistress?"

Chytrine smiled easily. "Prince Erlestoke will be leading an army into Oriosa, to come behind our lines to attack us. It is my intention to destroy that army. You will be the instrument of its destruction, then you will press on back through Oriosa and strike at Narriz."

Anarus let a growl rumble from his throat. "Forgive me, Empress, but that strategy is obvious. They will be prepared for us. If Princess Alexia pushes into Muroso, my supply lines will be cut."

"There are many things which are obvious, Anarus, and so we intend them to be." The Aurolani Empress pressed her hands together in an att.i.tude of prayer. "The southerners are given to believe a certain set of dreams will come true, and they will not. Their beliefs will lead them into a trap, which will break the back of their army. Saporicia will be lost; they will panic. And they will lose sight of the obvious.

"At Vael it was pointed out that my armies march forth and take nations even though those nations have nothing to do with the recovery of the DragonCrown. They see me as being bent on domination while the true questisto recover all the pieces of the DragonCrown. They think I wish to do this in order to command dragons to destroy them, and it will be useful for that, yes. But it is useful for so much more."

She looked around the room, stopping briefly to survey Isaura, where she sat back away from the table.

"It is not to conquer the world for the sake of its possession that I wage this war, but to restore the world to the peace it once knew. Such peace cannot exist in the face of grave injustice, and re-creating the Crown will allow me to provide justice. Then all will be well with the world.

"As you know, where our troops go, we search for the DragonCrown fragments. Our magick in that regard has been inefficient, but a spell used to locate me has showed me a new way to search for things.

As you are out acquitting your duties, so I shall be here, shaping that spell into another that will show us all of the fragments, including the key fragment, wherever orwheneverit is. As long as the south is fighting for its life, it will be distracted enough not to oppose us in any serious sense, so we shall succeed."

The empress glanced to her left at the elvensullanciriseated there. Of all her mother's servants, Quiarsca looked the most unchanged. Golden hair cascaded down to her waist, and the gown she wore tucked tight at her slender waist. Even the bit of color to her skin did not look out of the ordinary, but the same could not be said of her eyes. They looked to be hollow holes in her skull, not as if they had been torn out, but as if they were invisible orbs.

"Your work, Quiarsca, has progressed very well. Thekryalnirihave been a valued addition to our forces.

Your new project has proven even more successful. You found it satisfactory, Ferxigo?"

"Yes, Mistress, as I have reported, most satisfactory."