Reader And Raelynx

CHAPTER 33

SENNETH knew it was risky, of course. They might all die. But Justin and Tayse had spent hours planning an ambush, an escape route, and an alternate plan. They seemed to think they could inflict some damage on the oncoming army, then whisk their troops away with a minimum of loss.

Tayse had been less than thrilled with Senneth’s plan to confront Halchon Gisseltess.

“I won’t let him near enough to touch me,” she said. Something about his skin, his body, was anathema to her. She could not call fire, she almost could not summon rational thought, if he had any physical contact with her. She wondered sometimes if he possessed a peculiar magic, a kind that rendered other kinds of magic inoperable, and if so, what kind of strange god might watch over such a man. “But I think we need to take one last chance to try to bargain with him.”

Predictably, Justin’s comment had been, “The only bargain he understands is a blade through the heart.”

“It will come to that, no doubt,” she said. “But I feel compelled to try.”

They had learned quite by accident that the Arberharst men were not immune to Lirren magic. Only a handful of attackers had survived the assault on the palace, and a few had been so wounded that they could not be expected to live through the night. Kirra had been unable to heal them, but Ellynor had brought two of them back from the brink of death. She had then made herself invisible in order to eavesdrop on the manner in which Romar Brendyn questioned the enemy soldiers. “Because if he tortured them, I wasn’t going to help him again, and I’d let him know that,” she confessed to Senneth. Romar hadn’t seen her there-but neither had the soldiers from Arberharst.

And that had gotten Senneth to thinking.

They laid their trap a few miles outside the city limits, on a low stretch of road that Justin called a natural ambush, since it passed between high ridges on either side. They had barely a day to wait before their scout came racing back to pant out that the armies were only a few hours behind him.

Senneth didn’t think she had quite prepared herself for the sight of ten thousand men advancing to war.

They made one undulating, multicolored river of motion, ten men across and a thousand men deep. The three armies had blended into one, but she could still discern pockets of soldiers who rode with hundreds of their fellows-Lumanen guards dressed in black and silver, for instance, or Gisseltess men in black and red. It was no surprise, she thought, to find among the enemy troops rows of men wearing the topaz sash of Storian. The blue uniforms of the Arberharst soldiers, several thousand all told, were scattered throughout the Gillengaria masses. A deliberate move on Halchon’s part, Senneth thought with grudging admiration; he knew the foreign recruits were much less likely to be affected by homegrown magic.

But today that decision would work against them.

Senneth, Tayse, and their small force hid on top of the northernmost hill, watching the army march closer. An advance guard of perhaps twenty men led the way, carrying the flags of all three armies. Behind them rode the heads of this villainous alliance: Rayson Fortunalt, a florid, heavyset man with small eyes and a perpetually sneering expression; Halchon Gisseltess, square-faced, dark-haired, powerfully built, and purposeful; and Coralinda Gisseltess, whose black-and-silver hair mirrored her flag, her cloak, the colors of her goddess. She looked like an older, smaller version of her brother-no less purposeful, no less powerful. Senneth could not remember the last time she had seen them together, though she vividly recalled her last few meetings with each of them, and none of those memories gave her pleasure.

Senneth could pick out the small red flowers on Halchon’s vest before Tayse turned to her and gave a small nod. Now.

She balled her hands into fists, then spread her fingers wide. A wall of flame leapt up in the middle of the road.

Horses screamed; men shouted. There was a terrific clamor of confusion. Above it all she could hear Halchon’s voice calling out, “Stay calm! It is sorcery! Halt your horses! Stay calm!”

As if she was lifting a long, unwieldy boulder, Senneth slowly raised her arms, palms upward, fingers splayed. The flames whipped higher and began to travel, racing back along both sides of the massed men, following that endless line of oncoming soldiers. More shrieks, more sounds of struggling horses. It was impossible to see through the coruscating flame, but she could hear the clang of swords and shields. Blades drawn, no enemy to fight but fire.

A line of blue-clad soldiers galloped through the orange wall, weapons raised, bodies unharmed. Emboldened, a few Gillengaria men attempted to follow. Senneth heard their shouts of pain, the wild stomping of their horses’ hooves. Three of them burst through the fire, their uniforms alight, their horses wild with terror. They each used one hand to beat out the flames, one hand to grasp their swords.

The defenders flowed downhill from their hiding place. Every enemy who broke through the wall was met head-on by a Rider or a royal soldier.

The conflicts were quick and decisive, always favoring the defenders, for, while combatants trickled through, royal soldiers had the numerical advantage. Senneth could hear Halchon shouting again, hear Rayson’s furious questions. “What’s happening? Who’s fighting? Call them back!” But still more Arberharst soldiers worked their way past the fire. About fifteen cantered up from the rear ranks of the army, ready to engage. A few more Gillengaria soldiers staggered through, scorched but determined.

All of them were cut down.

Finally, after a bloody hour of combat, no more soldiers attempted to breach the wall. The Riders and the royal soldiers still sprawled across the road, waiting for another assault, but for the moment, all was quiet.

Senneth cupped her hands around her mouth and called out, “Marlord Halchon! I would have a conference with you!”

There was a moment of silence while she imagined Halchon first cursing her name, then wondering how he might turn this confrontation to his advantage. “Serra Senneth,” he shouted back. “I would be delighted to parley. I do not particularly wish to be incinerated in my attempts to communicate with you, however.”

“If you will agree to meet under a flag of truce, I will rescind my flame. There is a place two miles ahead of you on this road. Come alone to meet me there in one hour. Leave the rest of your army where it stands.”

“I am not fool enough to come by myself.”

Tayse had practically scripted this for her. “How many men will make you feel safe?”

“How many are in your army?”

“Bring no more than twenty,” she said. “Otherwise, we have no deal.”

“I will agree to that. When do you put out the fire? Our horses are ready to bolt.”

“I will douse the flames when we have withdrawn to our position.”

“I will see you in one hour, then,” he said.

This first part had been tricky; the next part would be trickier still. Coeval led most of their troops toward an agreed-upon rendezvous some distance past Ghosenhall. Tayse, Justin, Senneth, Ellynor, and about twenty men moved up the road to the second spot they had chosen. Again, they had commandeered the high ground, arranging themselves on a hillock that brushed against the road. Still on horseback, Senneth took a position close enough to the road to allow her to speak more or less comfortably to any traveler passing by. Justin, Tayse, and the other soldiers deployed behind her, weapons out. Ellynor cloaked herself in darkness and pulled her mount so close that Senneth could feel the animal’s body heat-though she couldn’t see the Lirren girl at all.

With a lot of effort and a bit of luck, Senneth could turn herself invisible, too-but she had the uneasy feeling Halchon would not be fooled by her spell. For this maneuver, she wanted to take no chances.

Halchon Gisseltess and a small escort arrived precisely at the appointed time.

“That’s near enough,” Senneth called when he was fifty feet away. He lifted a hand and his riders came to a tidy halt.

“Senneth,” he said, and his beautiful voice was warm with pleasure. “I am, as always, delighted at the chance to visit with you, though I must confess this venue is not entirely as civilized as I would like.”

“Uncivilized men must make do with the opportunities afforded to them,” she said.

He laughed softly. “Come, did you separate me from my army merely to insult me? Surely not. What offer do you have to make? Or what appeal?”

“The king is dead, you know,” she said baldly. “But Amalie still lives. What bargain would you strike to end this here, now, before another death is recorded?”

“You know my terms,” he said. “I want to be king. Amalie may abdicate in my favor.”

“You would make a very bad king,” Senneth said, shaking her head. “I fear you would destroy Gillengaria within a year of taking the throne. A man who uses violence to attain his ends will use violence to enforce his will.”

“Richly ironic, coming from a woman who herself married a soldier.”

“He fights to defend. You fight to acquire. Those are two very different things.”

“Spare me the philosophy, Senneth. I want to be king. Hand me the crown and I will dismantle the armies.”

“Surely there are other solutions,” she said. She felt like a traitor even as she said it, but the next option had to be presented. “There might be a man of Gisseltess whom you would be glad to support as a suitor to the princess. A marriage between Ghosenhall and Gissel Plain would afford you some of the power you crave.”

He appeared to reflect. “My oldest son is almost fourteen. Not a bad match for a nineteen-year-old girl, and a fine one in a few years’ time.”

She should have expected that, and she tried not to let her revulsion show. “I cannot broker a marriage on Amalie’s behalf but I can promise that she will consider him, and will meet him with an honest and true heart.”

Halchon’s smile turned into a leer. “But here’s a possibility that brings me even closer to the throne,” he said. “My own wife is missing. I’ll wed the princess and rule Gillengaria at her side.”

She couldn’t repress her gasp. “No! Amalie would rather die.”

He laughed at her. “Just because you would rather die than come to my bed doesn’t mean every woman feels the same way.”

“Then I would rather see her dead or dispossessed than have to endure your touch for half an hour,” she retorted. “There might be a chance you could put your son forward and have him considered as a candidate. But if you are the only suitor from Gisseltess, I can promise you no marriage will occur.”

He was still intensely amused. “But I need a wife, Senneth, now that the bitch who bore my sons has run off-finding shelter with your brothers, if the gossip I hear is true. You owe me for that, I believe, for I know you were instrumental in her escape. I have made you this offer before. Become my wife. My son will marry Amalie. Together we will offer the young king and queen our seasoned counsel and our loving example. That would satisfy me, I think. That would cause me to lay down my arms.”

Tayse hadn’t said a word, and she doubted if his stony face had showed any change of expression, but she could feel the fury radiating from his coiled body. Forcing herself to speak calmly, she said, “I have a husband. And am not inclined to shed him for convenience’s sake.”

“But, Senneth,” Halchon purred, “he could so easily be dead.”

Behind the Riders, someone shouted. Suddenly there was the pound of hooves, the scrape of swords. “Behind us!” one of the royal soldiers cried out, and then there was a furious clash of weapons. Halchon raised his arm and drove his fist through the air, and the men with him charged toward the hill.

Wheeling her horse around, Senneth reached out a wild hand and felt Ellynor’s fingers close around her wrist. She heard the cries of astonishment behind them, which meant she must have disappeared from view as completely as she’d hoped. Unseen, she and Ellynor swept up the hill and through the ranks of defenders. A line of enemy soldiers had crept up behind them while Halchon and Senneth engaged in insulting debate-just as Tayse had predicted.

“Leave them! Follow me!” Senneth cried, though, of course, none of the defenders could see her to follow. But they all managed one or two more devastating blows, then turned their horses and came thundering after Ellynor and Senneth. They had identified a low tumble of shrubbery as a meeting spot, and the two women reached it half a minute before the others. Ellynor released Senneth and muttered something that Senneth hoped meant an expansion of her magic. For a moment, they waited, strung with tension, holding their horses ready to gallop forward again. Their own soldiers plowed into the rendezvous point at a dead run, the attackers hard on their heels, and they all plunged forward again at a headlong pace. Only now their whole group was invisible.

Behind them, again, sounded more cries of confusion and fury. Senneth could hear Halchon’s voice. “You fools! It’s magic again! After them, after them!” There was the sound of tentative pursuit, but the hoofbeats were slower, the riders clearly mystified.

“Which way? Straight ahead?”

“What kind of magic is this? Fire and-and-vanishing? There’s no sorcery like that in Arberharst.”

“Quiet! Can you hear hoofbeats?”

“There-I think-something crashed through that line of bushes.”

The attackers charged after them, but too late, too disorganized, too uncertain. Senneth and her escort drew away as rapidly as they could, flinging themselves toward the larger band of soldiers waiting on the other side of Ghosenhall.

The enemies could not see them, but inside Ellynor’s protective circle, they could not see each other, either. They had not had much time to practice how they would ride close together at a very fast pace without treading all over each other. It was also difficult to see out of the dark haze Ellynor had summoned to hide them. Fortunately, the horses seemed less spooked than the humans. Maybe nothing was changed to them, Senneth thought. Maybe their eyes were so different that they were not blinded by magic.

She heard a big-boned animal edging ahead and, even before the rider spoke, guessed it was Tayse moving to the lead. “Answer quietly,” he called in a low voice, “but everyone sound off.”

“Justin” was the immediate first response.

“Senneth.”

“Ellynor.”

The other soldiers reeled off their names. Senneth spared a moment to wonder, almost hysterically, whether an enemy soldier had managed to infiltrate their ranks and was even now continuing along invisibly with them, clever enough to remain silent during this roll call. She could not imagine such a spy would long survive the dissipation of magic.

“Anyone injured?”

There was a chorus of no’s.

“I think that went superbly!” Senneth exclaimed, allowing herself a moment of exuberance even while she was fleeing for her life. “We surprised them, we destroyed a few of their men, we confused them, and we escaped!”

“And we learned something else,” Ellynor added. She sounded a little breathless. Senneth wondered how much energy she was expending to wrap twenty-five individuals in a cloak of darkness. And what kind of headache Ellynor might have when it was all done. Senneth’s own skull was echoing with each hoofbeat, but on the whole she didn’t feel as bad as she had at Danan Hall. She’d managed to keep her anger in check; that was always the key to enduring the most punishing spells. “Even Halchon Gisseltess cannot penetrate Lirren magic.”

“I don’t think I handled him very well, though,” Senneth added. She sighed and tightened her hand on the reins. “I never do.”

“I couldn’t decide which of his offers was more attractive,” Tayse said, his voice smooth but his anger palpable. “The one to marry Amalie or the one to marry you.”

Senneth sighed again. “If I cannot bring myself to marry him to avert a war, I cannot ask her to marry one of his surely repulsive sons for the same reason. I think, ‘Gods, the lives that could be saved!’ And yet-and yet-”

“And yet Gillengaria would die a slow death under his reign,” Tayse said firmly. “I absolutely believe it.”

“Well, he would have killed all of us just now if he could have, even though he had agreed to parley in peace,” Justin said practically. “That gives you some idea of the promises he would make and keep if he became king.”

“He is not going to be king,” Tayse said. “That is why we are going to war.”

ELLYNOR had lifted her magic by the time they met up with Coeval and the others. Justin, Senneth was interested to see, had somehow managed to locate Ellynor despite the inconvenience of not being able to see her and was now riding beside her. He caught Senneth’s eyes on him and grinned.

“All well here?” Tayse asked Coeval.

“Yes. You?”

“As planned. Let’s break for a meal and ride out.”

Senneth was glad she didn’t have to rely solely on Riders for her conversation.

They were on their way again in fifteen minutes, traveling at a steady but somewhat less brutal pace. As always, Tayse rode ahead of the column to scout for trouble, and Justin dropped behind to watch their back trail. What was new was that Ellynor stayed with Justin. Senneth smiled to watch them until they abruptly winked from view. An even more effective rear guard, she thought-an invisible one. No chance any enemy would catch them unaware.

They rode late, camped for only long enough to give the horses a rest, then were on their way again before dawn. Senneth felt bleary-eyed and dull-minded, and her headache hadn’t been helped much by the insufficient sleep. A few of the royal soldiers were yawning in their saddles, and Ellynor looked about as weary as Senneth felt. But none of the Riders appeared fatigued, and no one else dared complain.

Two more days of traveling, two more nights of uncomfortable and oh-so-brief repose. “Do Riders never sleep?” Senneth demanded of Tayse the next morning before he kicked his horse ahead of the rest.

He affected surprise. “Weren’t you just sleeping? For at least three hours?”

“I will be too tired to make a fire, and then you’ll regret your haste.”

He smiled. “An army moves slowly, but it will be moving all the same,” he said. “I want to join up with our own forces while there is time to prepare.”

“We’re a day ahead of Halchon by now, surely.”

He shook his head. “Maybe. We can’t count on more than twelve hours.”

“Then let’s ride.”

But she cheered considerably a little before noon when two spring hawks spiraled down out of the sky and landed gracefully alongside the road. Senneth pulled her horse aside and waited as Kirra and Donnal materialized.

“Tayse pauses for no one, so tell me your news quickly so I can catch up,” she greeted them. The rest of the soldiers had already moved past her, traveling at a steady clip.

Donnal grinned. “I don’t have anything to tell, but Kirra wants to visit.” In his breathtakingly rapid fashion, he transformed himself into a sleek black horse, complete with reins and saddle, and Kirra swung herself onto his back.

“You look bedraggled and cranky,” she observed cheerfully as they jogged after the others. “Is that the result of hard travel or a failed mission?”

“Hard travel,” Senneth answered sourly. “Please tell me we’re close to Amalie, so I can lay down my head and die.”

Kirra laughed. “Another hour away, perhaps. Cammon told us you were near, so Donnal and I came to greet you.”

“And is our army deployed?”

Kirra nodded. “Acres and acres of soldiers. The Brassenthwaite troops found us yesterday, and Kiernan and Harris arrived straight from Danan Hall. Good news, though, you’ll only have to deal with one of your brothers, since Kiernan is about to send Harris back to Brassen Court to assist Nate. Romar’s got everyone very nicely organized-or so it seems to me, but you know battle strategy isn’t my strong suit-and you’ll like this a great deal. He’s ordered Cammon to stay with Amalie at all times in some little pavilion they’ve set up at the back of camp. But, of course, the regent wants to be on the front line, and he wants to communicate with Amalie-and he wants to communicate with Kiernan, and the captain of the Kianlever guard-and how do you think he proposes to do that?”

“Magic,” Senneth said.

“Magic, indeed! Romar has conscripted your old friend Jerril, who doesn’t seem to quite know what’s happened to him, and Jerril’s parceled out the Carrebos mystics who are particularly strong readers. None of them is as good as Cammon, of course, but he can hear all of them, and they can hear him, so he has been practicing relaying complicated messages all across the battlefield. We’ll see how well that holds in the stress of combat,” she added, “but it does seem like an advantage Halchon won’t have.”

“He has plenty of others,” Senneth said gloomily. “A few thousand Arberharst soldiers, for instance, who can ride right through my fires.”

“But they couldn’t see Ellynor, could they?”

Senneth brightened. “No.”

“Then you’ll like this news, too. This morning another couple hundred recruits showed up-from the Lirrens.”

Senneth felt both excitement and dread at that news. “Really! That’s wonderful-and terrible. If the Lirren men fall in a war that is not their own-”

“Donnal and I watched a few of them take an hour’s combat practice,” Kirra interrupted. “I can’t imagine any of them falling. Donnal said they’re not as good as Riders, but, Wild Mother watch me, they were pretty damn close.”

“I wonder if Ellynor’s brother is among them,” Senneth said. “I met him-I liked him-but what a brash young man he is.”

Kirra was grinning, and her blue eyes were alight with mischief. “Oh, her brother is here-two of her brothers-but what’s even more significant is that her cousin has also ridden to war.”

“Significant why?”

“Apparently Valri had something of a history with this young man before she crossed the Lireth Mountains and got herself named queen,” Kirra drawled.

“Really! A broken romance in Valri’s past! Well, it’s almost worth going to war to see how this will play out.”

Donnal tossed up his head till his mane flew, offering an equine laugh.

“Now all we have to do is hope Halchon dies in battle so that your brother Nate can marry Sabina Gisseltess, and everyone will be happy.”

“Oh, I forgot to mention it. Halchon and I managed a brief exchange of civilities just before Ellynor made us all vanish and we went racing off to find you,” Senneth said in a hard, bright voice.

“Did he renew his offer of marriage to you?”

“He did. Though when he thought about it, he decided it would put him closer to the throne to marry Amalie instead.”

Kirra choked and then pantomimed gagging over Donnal’s shoulder. “Someone really has to kill him,” she said when she had recovered.

“If he ever gets close enough to Tayse, I think it’ll happen,” Senneth said.

“And Coralinda? Was she there?”

“I saw her at the head of the troops, but I didn’t attempt any conversation,” Senneth said. “I sometimes wonder how that would work, you know. Halchon wants to marry me, but his sister wants to kill me. Do you suppose I would be murdered on my wedding day?”

“Well, many women equate marriage and death,” Kirra said blithely. “Why should you be different?”

That made Senneth laugh so hard that she almost gave up on conversation altogether.

Half an hour later, they came upon the royal armies of Gillengaria.

The sight was truly impressive, Senneth acknowledged, reining up to get a good look at the ranks of soldiers spread out over the rocky plains south of Brassenthwaite. Halchon might have assembled more men, but somehow these looked more beautiful to her-more earnest, more righteous, more passionate, more invincible. They were arranged by affiliation, grouped under their individual banners. The royal soldiers in their black-and-gold uniforms were deployed in the front. Behind them were the Brassenthwaite soldiers in dark blue, Merrenstow men with their black-and-white checkerboard sashes, Helven troops in their green and gold, Kianlever troops wearing sashes of plaited blue and green. Amid this welter of tents and banners, Senneth could not immediately pick out the royal pavilion, the cluster of Lirren warriors, the small blocks of mercenaries and individuals who always showed up for battles, offering their swords. She just saw the grand spectacle of an army preparing itself for war. It was the most awe-inspiring, the most heartbreaking display she had ever seen.