XVIII. July 774
"In the light of the Divine Sun," declaimed the Priestess Enjele, "in the warming rays of the Sacred Day of Eternity, may the power of the Holy Morning infuse us here in the twilit valley of our mortal life. May the endless glory of the Fire Everlasting touch our darkened souls, the ever-changing Constant Beacon guide our feet as we walk in this shadow land, the Immemorial Conflagration kindle our answering spirits, and the Lamp of the Ages light the lives of our children and their children down through the long years after our embers have died."
The light of the divine sun of evening slanted in almost horizontally from the west window. Countess Vivian found herself, for once, hanging on the priestess's every word, fingering a piece of paper in her sweaty hand, waiting for the chance to say what she had been thinking about saying for the two weeks since she had gotten back to Nikolad from Avigon. Now they sat in the spacious Upper Hall of Thane Hugo at Tarnhold, the whole Council and then some: Countess, Minister of State, Lord Consul, Interior Minister, Treasurer, High Priestess and interim Scribe, along with their host Thane Hugo, Thane Sigrith of Siret, Lord Egon of Simkin, Hugo's grandson Lord Peter, several other Tarnverian lords, Captain Edwy Sallier, Prince Frenerac, the Lady Zinyda, Sir Tylon and even Thane Burley of Skavin, who looked ten years older than the last time Vivian had seen him, four years ago. She opened her mouth to start in, but Sir Rogier gave her a look to remind her that she still had to wait her turn.
"One hundred and eighty-second day, seventh regnal year of her Ladyship, Vivian, daughter of Edmund, son of Theodred, seventeenth Countess of Clane and rightful ruler of Vonnis," intoned the High Priestess with carefully balanced emotion, "this tenth day of July of the year 774, the Countess Vivian presides."
"Ready, Scribe Fergus?" asked Sir Rogier.
"Yes, sir, yes, my lady."
"Thank you," said Vivian. She looked at Sir Rogier. "May I?"
"We are your servants, my lady."
"All right. Good. My lords and ladies, we are faced with a most unusual circumstance. For forty years we've been wishing the Empire back, and now it seems to have returned--and I, your lawful Countess, who on receiving the Medallion swore to uphold the laws of the Empire and the good of the people of Clane, am here to tell you that we cannot accept this restoration."
"Well, my lady," said Thane Horst, "since this fellow must be a fake, or a puppet of Duke Salvar, that's no problem."
"Oh, it's a problem all right. I am certain that he is not a fake. He is a descendant of Emperors, and, as the old books would say, I have been shown the signs. And he is no puppet--if anything, Salvar is his puppet, and has been for some time. Yet he is completely evil and no good can come of him, except by his defeat. So I am here to call on you all to provide soldiers to fight against the rightful Emperor." She looked around.
"My lady," said Sir Rogier, "not that I actually think this way, but aren't you calling upon your subjects to commit treason? Are you not in fact committing treason against the Empire? If, indeed, he is the rightful Emperor."
"I haven't been shown the signs," said Thane Horst, and all the Thanes present nodded.
"As far as I'm concerned," said Thane Sigrith, "this is no Emperor. We Rukh have no past that calls on us to serve him in any case. I grant that I have sworn to the Countess and taken on the duties of Thaneship, and so am bound by ancient oaths not made by folk of my clan. And yet, why should we, why should you be tied to this one, even if his own forebear once came up out of the sea and saved your forebears?"
"You put your finger on it," said Vivian. "I depend on ancient charters and oaths pledged by my people's ancestors to my ancestors, and I also grant that this man is as much a rightful Emperor as the First Emperor ever was. I am as injured by treason as anyone in history, and I expect to do justice on the heads of those who rose treasonously against me, and yet I tell you that even if he were the First Emperor returned, we must fight against him."
"That is a hard position," said Sir Rogier, "and perhaps you should defend it."
"I would, even if I weren't asked. Look, the best I can do is this. When I make a request, you should not agree to it just because I am Countess. We have a system, a system that, barring, oh, unforeseen Avar hordes and rebel Thanes and invading Dukes, works quite nicely. The Countess is leader but the Countess must consult, and the Countess must listen to counsel even if the Countess likes it not. The Countess cannot punish the speaker of words of advice. And in a number of areas, the Countess is bound by what others think. And you know what? Under Count Edmund, Clane was a stable and fairly prosperous land. The rule of law was firm, but never harsh, everyone paid what was generally agreed to be their fair share (or endured the guilt and danger of cheating) and everyone was allowed to peaceably speak their minds, with the understanding that it was the Count who had the responsibility of deciding. I have tried to continue as he did, and I like to think that, had it not been for invasions and treason, the only difference most people would have noticed between my father's time and my own would have been the face on the coinage. I'm sorry, but I think that this is the way things should be.
"The Emperor does not see such a system. No Emperor did, and although the old Empire might have been an improvement over the brutal chaos that preceded it, well, really things were never better in the Empire than under the late, weak Emperors. In his strength, the Emperor was no elevated Duke: there was no limit to what he might decide. For the Counts of Clane, the rule of law does not enter people's houses or interpose itself into their conversations. The Rule of the Emperor followed his people all the way into the back of their minds. Their skulls, their hearts were always on trial. For you now, the question is, do you want that again, as the price of safety?
"The Emperor does not deserve our allegiance simply for being Emperor. The same for me. The same for me! I have to give in order to deserve your allegiance. The powerful do not necessarily deserve power. The Emperor is just plain too strong, any Emperor would be, and the Emperor has never seen a reason to restrain himself. My friends, if we need that much protection, then we don't deserve to be free. We don't deserve to be Clanish. And I'll say one more thing. This guy makes mistakes. Think about that. Do you want someone who has that kind of power to make mistakes?" Several listeners nodded or raised their eyebrows.
"So you grant that the man who claims to be Emperor really is Emperor, and then you declare yourself against him," said Sir Rogier.
"I do," said the Countess, "and I seek no legal nicety to give me leave. Let others who are so inclined look for loopholes in the Charter granted to Count John Zimmish. I do not require you to follow me in this."
"I follow you," said Sigrith.
"I too," said Frenerac.
"Yet, if I may," said Sir Rogier, "one might bypass your stand against the Emperor and go along with military action against those who illegally hold Vonnis; or one could simply deny his legitimacy."
"Then on the one hand," said Vivian, "the Emperor might demand service to himself against me, and assign Vonnis to Farlain by decree; on the other, the Emperor might show you the Signs, and, take my word for it, you don't want to see them."
There was some muttering amongst the Council. This was certainly more than they had come expecting. They were far from finished putting together all the implications. But none would think of opposing Vivian when it came down to deciding. Sigrith stood up.
"All here know how I will choose," she said. "I follow the Countess Vivian. My oaths to her are stronger than steel."
"That's very well for you, Thane Sigrith," said Horst, "but before we throw out the Empire, I'd like to consider alternatives. Of course, Countess, I trust you more than any so-called Emperor: I know you from long experience, and you have never failed us. I myself owe you more than I could ever repay."
"I owe you the same, my Thane."
"Yet we are considering the final dissolution of the Empire, aren't we?"
"Yes," said Vivian, "exactly, the Empire itself, not just the Emperor."
"And it never seemed to me as if the old Emperor interfered much in Clane, although I grant I was but a young man when he fell."
"Clane was all but independent then," said Vivian. "He never had the chance to oppress us much--or anyone else, outside of Avigon and its neighborhood. Theodred never knelt to him, nor did several other Sovereigns, so his energies were spent closer to Avigon. But if we let this Emperor get a foothold, he will, believe me, come back to Clane with intent to do mayhem. He is allied with Duke Salvar, and until this year, he was living in occupied Vonnis."
"How do you know that?" asked Thane Horst. "How many more revelations are there? With respect, Countess, the Council deserves to know what you know."
"With respect," said Vivian, "the Council never knew all that Count Edmund knew."
"I concede that readily. At least you could tell us more."
"I will tell you more." She smiled at him, and took a breath. "All right, it may not surprise some of you that the Counts and Countesses of Clane have, ah, sources of information that other people don't have. Many of you wondered why I went to look upon Vonnis, and why I then went to Avigon. All I can say is, I needed to learn things that I could not send others out to learn for me. And while I am not prepared to tell you what my sources were, I can say that they were the same kind of sources that my father would have consulted, or my grandfather. I am sure that Count Theodred consulted such sources in the last days of the Last Emperor. At Vonnis I learned that the mysterious claimant that had been mentioned at the Imperial Diet of 771, endorsed by Count Chalris of Inzil, had been hiding out in the under-dungeons of our Citadel. And he had just left--for Avigon. Then at Avigon I learned that it was this very claimant who sat now on the throne; and that his claim was legitimate, as far as that goes, and that he aspired to the power of the ancient Emperors. I know that he is completely evil, as evil is commonly defined in Clane, and I know that he was the author of the attempt on my life in the crowd in Angren four years ago. I believe that he is why there are blue horse flags flying over our capital city. If he steadies his grip on the sea-winged crown, I expect him to try to finish the job he started, and so you might say that the Emperor and the current Countess are deadly enemies. Side with me, or with him.
"I also know that while Farlain and Avigon and occupied Amari and the Khan of the Avars all follow this Emperor, the rest of the Dukes oppose him. Orzali challenges his legitimacy, Samarra feels as I do that the Empire's day is past, and Rahavon challenges Imperial authority. Inzil is with him, but the lords of Allor hope to stay alive by fighting him off. The Dukes are gathering their armies, and seem likely to have numerical superiority. They need us to challenge the Farlainers at Vonnis, to keep Neil from reinforcing the Emperor."
"Neil's on his side?" said Thane Horst. "That's all you needed to say."
"That goes for me too," said Thane Hugo, "though I appreciate the explanation."
"Me too," said Thane Burley. "I don't know one way or the other about this Emperor, but I know how I feel about blue horses and Avars, not to mention the former treasurer."
"If I'd known that was the way of it," said Vivian, "I'd have started with Neil."
"But perhaps," said Sir Rogier, "we should go over the tactical situation."
Vivian relaxed, took a breath and said, "I can tell you're just bursting with information."
"Well, Martin of Auzel has come back from embassy to the Dukes, and they now estimate that they have a hundred thousand men assembled at the port of Tarvok in the Grand Duchy: thirty thousand each from the three Dukes and the rest from Allor, Tithean and Vendrezu. The Isles of Kel and Panthalla have as usual followed Samarra's lead, and joined their forces with his. Umoro has neither recognized nor rejected the new Emperor and sends no troops either way.
"Meanwhile, the Emperor's forces are harder to count, but it seems unlikely that he can muster anything past sixty thousand. A quarter of that is worthless militia from Avigon; a third is Avar horde; the rest are Farlain, and some Inzil, veterans who will form the core of his army. Some of those veterans are of course locked up here dealing with our insolence, and the more insolent we are in the coming weeks, the more of them will have to be here. And that, of course, is the essence of the Dukes' plan. Sir Francis?"
"My lady," said Weaver, "we now count their troops at Angren as less than two thousands. Two or three thousand more are at Vonnis. Already at least two thousand have left Clane: they have less men here now than they have had at any time since the day they first came to help us. And it's the best and most experienced that are being pulled out to fight in the south."
Thane Horst laughed. "We should wait another week," he said, "and we will be able to take back Vonnis."
"It's tempting, isn't it," said Vivian, "but if the Emperor wins he will simply come back and take it from us again, and destroy it properly this time. Whereas if he loses, we may stop by anytime and pick it up for ourselves. No, we have to put pressure on them right now, so that they will bring back those two thousand. Every hardened veteran they have is worth ten militiamen."
"Or two untested knights from Samarra," said Thane Horst. "My lady, you have again shown that Count Edmund's strategic sense lives on. Oh, and before you ask: all the troops of my province, which includes the justly famed girl archers of Nikolad, are at your disposal. We have a thousand infantry all told, and a hundred horse bows."
"Tarnver will give you four hundred cataphracts," said Thane Hugo, "and the mountaineers, if you need them."
"Leave them back," said Egon, "to guard against the Rukh savages--the ones that still live over the mountains, that is. My own Rukh will be the principal sending of Thane Rodrik of Selac, who could not be excused from school to come himself. He sends his greetings, by the way. We can give you a thousand axemen."
"Siret," said Sigrith, "gives fifteen hundred Rukh and six hundred Siretans, I mean, Clanish Siretans--I mean, over two thousand will fight for you from Siret."
Thane Horst whistled. "Siret has grown into our strongest province."
"We must keep up our fighting trim," said Sigrith, "or we too will turn into dairy farmers."
"Nothing wrong with dairy farmers," said Thane Burley. "I came here over the mountains with a hundred of them, who want to fight for the Countess for the first time in a while. I hope that is not too small a number."
"If they're from Skavin," said Sir Rogier, "then each one counts for three or four of the Farlainers. Horse Marshal?"
"My lord, my lady, we have Countess's Cataphracts enough to make the total cavalry over a thousand, and three hundred of what were the Vonnis swords and bows."
"They still are," said Vivian. "But that comes to, let's see, forty-five hundred infantry and a thousand cataphracts and horse bows. Is that right?"
"That's right," said Maura d'Acali.
"Let's not forget," put in Prince Frenerac, "forty knights of Farlain and Amari who still know which side to fight on."
"Altogether," said Thane Horst, "it's a host of almost Imperial proportions."
"Not quite," said Vivian, "but enough to make them send troops back to Vonnis, I hope."
"My lady," said Sir Francis Weaver, "I don't want to appear hotheaded or anything--"
"Yeees?"
"But we could easily take Angren with such an army. It's still almost unwalled, and it's now so undermanned that we should have no trouble at all. And," he added, noticing dubious looks on the faces of the Countess, Thane Horst and Sir Rogier, "it would make them think twice about further thinning the defenses of Vonnis. They might even send troops back."
Vivian frowned thoughtfully. "All right, I'll make that wager," she said. "Let it be ordered thus. The Horse Marshal, the Lord Consul, Thane Sigrith and any others that have bright ideas will plan an attack on Angren. We will retake it within two weeks--but let's not get settled in there, because if they challenge us with six or eight thousand, we're pulling back, understood?"
"My lady," said Thane Horst, "Margus de Passaya isn't here today."
"I always think he is," said Vivian, "and I do miss him, but I especially miss the hundreds of knights he took with him. Are there any other reports?"
"Roads are fine," said Purcell Colmack.
"The books are as balanced as they're going to be," said Maura d'Acali, "but I hope the archers have brought their own arrows."
"They know how to make them," said Thane Horst. "Supplies of weapons look fairly good. Let's go see what's stashed at Angren--I bet they have some extra stuff there we could use."
"I'm sure," said the Countess. "But--one more thing before we adjourn for ale."
"Ale?" repeated Thane Burley. "Is there not wine?"
"There is," said Thane Hugo, "but her ladyship has taken a liking to ale while living at Nikolad. It's unaccountable, but at least she still likes cheese."
"I do," said Vivian, "but one more thing." They listened gravely. She opened up her piece of paper and glanced at it. "It's this. With this step, all of you who fight with me take sides against the Emperor, and it could turn into a long fight. He will call your act treason against him. He will be right. I do not want you to follow me in this unless you do it of your own volition."
"My lady," said Sir Rogier, "we have all sworn--"
"My lady," said Thane Horst. "I, Horst de Fugad, by the Sun's grace Thane of Westdubbik, swear fealty to the Countess of Clane and renounce any duty to any who call himself Emperor. There is no higher power under the Sun than the Countess. If I am going to commit treason, then it isn't going to be against you."
"My lady," said Thane Hugo, "consider it my oath as well."
"And mine," said Thane Burley.
"And mine also," said Lord Egon. "I kneel to you, Countess, and I kneel to no one else. and since young Thane Rodrik sent me on as his, ah, military representative, it's his too."
"I too," said Prince Frenerac, "renounce any duty to this Emperor, and to my brother, the so-called Duke of Farlain. I swear to serve you, and in so doing may perhaps serve my own people, but there is no sovereign above either you or me."
"My oath has been heard already," said Sigrith, "but I will make it again. I serve the Countess of Clane, and as Clane has given aid to me in time of deadly need, I give aid back. The Emperor of old was our enemy, and this one is my enemy forever."
"So much the worse for him," said the Countess, "though he knows it not." She flattened out her piece of paper and read from it. "And now, for me, I swear to you, my lords, by my father and his father and all my ancestors, that I will not fail you nor forget my duty. I renounce forever, for myself and my line, all allegiance to the Emperor. My allegiance is to Clane, to give justice and to accept counsel and to lead and protect the people as long as the Sun gives me life to do so."
"Thank you, my lady," said Sir Rogier. "We ask no promise of you, but we value your oath above any Emperor's power. I add my voice to the rest: I own you as my only sovereign."
"Thank you," she said as though it were unexpected. "I thank you all. I'm glad my friends stand with me. We stand or fall together, and we pledge our lives to one another, and whatever the next two weeks bring, we are bound together from this moment forever, we and our descendants." She took a breath and added, "Long live Clane."
"Long live Clane!" they all shouted.
"Now let's find some ale," she said, "or wine, for those who prefer."
That night was the new moon, and the next night found Vivian sitting cross-legged on the floor before the book and the cup and the two candles, both lit, while far away her wandering eye studied the world as a general might study a map.
She let the eye glide down the long curve of the Lavan River toward the sea, fleeing from the ugly corpse of Vonnis, passing over the farmlands of Intror and Farlain and then the bloated and prosperous city of Calway, Prince Salvar's capital. Along the river road still a few more units of the army of Farlain moved southward, and she skimmed over, unable to count them. From southern Farlain she let her eye rise as she looked further south: the coast of the Gulf of Almery stretched before her, curving away on both sides, and in the middle like a great stained growth sat Avigon, astride its rivers. She veered to the left and sped toward the coastal port of Tarvok.
The town of Tarvok seemed to her about the size of Vonnis in her first year. It had one thing, however, that Vonnis never in its wildest dreams hoped to have: a seaport. It was over capacity. Vivian was never a seafarer, so to her the ships simply looked varied beyond comprehension, one mast, two masts, three, four, a single sail or more, rectangular or triangular or semicircular or other, high in the water or low, with oars, with two rows of oars, with three. Many bore rams in front, many wore painted faces, and all seemed to have eyes of one sort or another painted on either side of the prow. Their wood varied from blond to deep brown to black to red, while many were painted in garish yellows, greens and blues, and their sails were of every combination of colors imaginable. The deep twilight did not do them justice, and clouds were rolling in off the sea. Vivian wished she could see it all in the light of noon.
The town walls were surmounted by flags of the Dukes: the black eagle rising of Rahavon, the gold lion rampant of Orzali, the porpoise in azure of Samarra. She saw these flags over and over, but there were also the indigo serpent of Allor, the green pine tree of Tithean and the brown mountain of Vendrezu, as well as the flags of the island counties, Kel's blue fish and Panthalla's orange tree. There were even a few renegade Amarian knights under their silver hawk in flight on the slight breeze. Suddenly her heart flew as high as her eye: there atop the north gate of Tarvok, among the other flags, Clane's grey cat crouched on the wind.
The camp outside was settling down for the evening, and it seemed to Vivian to be in a good mood. She decided that she didn't want to take too good a look at her allies in camp eating, drinking, gambling, making time with local women, relieving themselves and being otherwise masculine. She skimmed here and there--and then all of a sudden came upon the Dukes George of Samarra and Rathred of Orzali talking.
There was nothing tense or dramatic about their conversation--they were two older men standing as it were on a street corner chatting. One would voice an opinion, and the other would nod, and then the other would voice an opinion and the first would nod. Orzali was fiftyish, red of face and beard, with great range of expression, toothy smile and considerable show of wealth, while Samarra was past seventy, overweight, with light brown beard, thinning hair and watery eyes, a nice guy whom Vivian knew a little, dressed in dilapidated, once-expensive clothes. They were presently joined by the black-haired, thirtyish Duke Leontius of Rahavon, whose face was as hawkish as the black eagle emblem of his Duchy. The three most powerful men, perhaps, in the whole Empire stood for several minutes outside a large tent, discussing the weather.
They were joined by their officers, and went inside. Vivian's eye followed. It was disconcerting to see on a wide map the Grand Duchy which she had just viewed from on high, but the map was certainly accurate. Here was Avigon, and here, east of the city in the coastal plain, was the Imperial army (a bunch of blue counters and some white counters and yellow counters, and a few silvery ones and green ones); down the coast lay an obviously much larger army of black and azure and gold. The Duke of Samarra began pushing these ones off their marked positions near Tarvok, and presently the whole of the two armies were arrayed against one another on the plains. There was much gesturing and some adjustment, and then two more counts showed up--by their livery, Tithean and Vendrezu, mainlander small fry who wanted to show they were not completely under Orzali's thumb. Samarra went through the whole thing again for their benefit. She noticed two other counts--presumably Samarran clients Kel and Panthalla--at his elbow, ready whenever he needed backing up. There was a small pine green block (Tithean) and a brown one (Vendrezu) but the island counts' forces were subsumed into Samarra's azure.
The meeting, being a meeting, went on and on, and especially so since there was not one person there who was agreed to be above all the others. She decided all was well, and she thanked the Sun that she did not have to be there--it would be so hard not to try and take over the discussion herself. She wafted out onto the night air and floated aimlessly for a few minutes. Then, gathering her courage, she turned west and flew along the coast back toward Avigon.
The Grand Duchy was a flat, low expanse of forest and former forest, full of villages and crisscrossed by Imperial highways. Where three of these met, as far east of Avigon as Vonnis was from Dubkarin, another host was encamped. She could tell it was an army camp many miles away, and when she got there she was glad her bodiless eye could not smell. About half the army were Farlainers, of which a significant proportion were knights, and of the other half the largest number were Avars--so, lots of horses. The Khan seemed to have squeezed out all the strength he could for the Emperor's purposes. There were also the green swan of Inzil, the purple dragon of the Grand Duchy and the silver hawk of Amari, but all over camp were the long white triangular pennants of the Emperor, such as had not ridden the breeze in more than a generation.
She could not count from her wandering eye, but there was no question that the Emperor was outnumbered. She began to wonder if there wasn't another army hiding around here somewhere, more Avars yet on the way perhaps. She rose up into the high airs to look, but all she saw was the Empire's heartland stretched out in new moon darkness all around. In the starlight she saw the Allor River gleaming, and the waves on the restless Gulf, but no other great gathering of men. She came back down and rested for a minute or two, floating just above the heads of soldiers milling about in the middle of camp.
She noticed a tent with a large imperial banner in front of it, as well as the banners of Farlain and Inzil and Amari and the Grand Duchy, and she glided toward it. Soldiers in imperial livery stood in front of it with their swords drawn, but she went past without a salute and slipped between the tent flaps. Inside there were tables and maps and markers of armies, and noblemen and officers argued and connived as in the camp of the Dukes. She almost yawned. Yet there was something different besides the faces. She tried to put her finger on it. The maps were similar, their estimates of the numerical situation similar, the forecast of place and array of battle similar--even the colors of the markers were similar. She buzzed around the room, pursuing a hint of a hunch, and found herself at a tent flap leading into a smaller chamber.
She dropped down to squeeze through, but it was dark on the other side. Then she found herself face to face with another eye: a whole face, in fact. In its midst was a memorable nose.
The Emperor raised an open hand as if to swat her. Vivian fled faster than a bird driven on the wind, out into the open air and then up and northward, and then, near Sand Point Inn, she dropped into the Lavan River and let go of her eye. Her own eyes shot open. She knelt in the closet in Tarnhold, only the right candle lit. There was a face before her. Asking: "What was it? What did you see?" It was Ellean.
"Oh, sunspots, you scared me. I forgot you were there."
"Sorry. You were, ah, gone a long time."
"I went a long way. Wait till my heart stops pounding." Vivian drew several long breaths. "Well, I saw him, for one thing. He saw me see him. He kind of tried to swat me, but I fled."
"A good instinct, I'm sure. What could he have done?"
"I don't know. Once when I came back from the other side I found him trying to mentally strangle my body."
"Really? What did you do?"
"I gathered all my strength and socked him one. That was my first real encounter with him, now I think of it. I had no idea who he was, of course. I would've done the same to you, too, by the way, if I hadn't just caught myself. I thought you were him, waiting for me."
"I'm glad I said something then. But what did you see besides his hand?"
"Oh, armies and armies. Our side way outnumbers his side, by the way. I don't know how he's going to win. He must have a plan. Or maybe he doesn't. Maybe he plans to have a plan occur to him. That usually seems to work for me. But it had better happen soon, or he's doomed."
"Well," said Ellean, "there's nothing you can do but what you're doing."
"Let me think about it. But let's go find some wine."
Half an hour later they were seated around Vivian's bedroom in Tarnhold: the Countess, Jen, Ellean, Angeline, Sigrith, Weaver and Willd. Suzy was curled up asleep in Willd's lap and arms, and Robin and Anne shared the crib.
"Sure you're not going to have another one?" asked Angeline, who was pregnant again, due by early in the new year.
"I'm not sure," replied Vivian, "but the last one wasn't easy. The first one was, and look how she turned out."
"She turned out fine," said Willd.
"I think this one may be a girl," said Angeline. "The dreams have been a bit ambiguous."
"Anyway," said Weaver, "shall we discuss the situation?"
"Do we have to?" whined Angeline.
"We could discuss," said Sigrith, "how Susan is destined to be a warrior. Like her mother."
"Well, thank you, my good Thane. Some people know how to talk to me, and others just talk to me the only way they know how, right, Ellean? But, yes, the situation. The scouting reports."
"My lady," said Willd. "I and Siglind and two of the Westdubbik scouts rode down to Angren yesterday, and we just got back from a circuit of the place this night. There are around a thousand there now, not the best Farlain has to offer. They have a mountain of supplies, but they have taken no note of our mustering."
"That may be because we catch their scouts and kill them," said Sigrith.
"Fortunately you do not kill all the scouts you capture," said Willd. "I was one of those, and, um, so was Ellean, though you may not remember."
"Oh, yes," said Sigrith with a grin. "Her I don't recall, but I remember you."
Willd went on, unflustered. "As I say, the Farlainers that have been left to face us are not the Duke's best soldiers. It may not be lack of scouting. They may simply know no better."
"We'll show them better," said the Countess.
"I hate to think what my house looks like," said Angeline. "Remember the last time you stayed there, Countess?"
"How could I forget? It was the night after they took my Vonnis from me. And who knows? We might just be back there by the end of summer."
"Do you really think so?" asked Ellean. "Can they really beat the Emperor?"
Vivian sighed. "In my bones? Well, I've been wrong before. But come, let's drink to the success of the Dukes. And hope that soon we can drink to the fond memories of Neil and Salvar and the Emperor as well."
It was on the twelfth of July that the Clanish host set out from Tarnhold. It was well that they started early, for Enjele Ennis and her priests had a long job of it, giving a flower petal for luck to each soldier and chanting the ancient words for each company. They were the biggest army Clane had mustered since long before the fall of the Last Emperor. The fact that somewhere to the south a force ten times its size faced another almost twice as large as that did not alter the enthusiasm of the soldiers.
Half of them were Rukh from Siret and Selac, and this was a much-needed break from their second summer as Clanish landholders. The other half were Clanish from Westdubbik, Tarnver and southern Siret, and each half taught the other its ways as for three days they marched toward Angren. There were brawls pitting Rukh against Rukh and Clanish against Clanish, and also between Rukh and Clanishman, and to the surprise of both sides, they were evenly matched. There were also forms of cultural exchange that did not involve fists. Ale and white wine met sweet dark red Rukh port; dice and darts and rugby met knife throwing and wrestling and a game of battle played on a square board of wood; lute and recorder and fiddle met drum and horn and harp; bawdy song met doomed epic; stories of all sorts high and low were exchanged even up. One subject on which most of them agreed was that of women, although there were exceptions. Nikolad's girl horsebows, for instance, presumably did not share this interest; these were kept under fairly careful watch by Angeline Rain. Vivian kept less careful watch on Ellean, who slipped out of the tent they shared as soon as she thought the Countess was asleep. A couple of hours later she returned, and Vivian sat up on her blankets.
"You're awake," said Ellean.
"So are you," said Vivian. "Light a candle, will you?"
Ellean took a candle outside to light off a torch. "I suppose you want a report," she said.
"No, I can guess. And no, I can't read your mind." Vivian grinned at Ellean's dreamy look. "Besides, hearing of your affairs only makes me lonely for Willd."
"You're worried about him."
"Well, of course, but not unusually so. He's a good scout, so scout he must, and besides, none of the soldiers gets to have his wife along, so why should I have him? Even Francis and your sister are sleeping apart tonight."
"Yes, it's quite a sacrifice for both of them. You're all so noble. Me, I'm just a horse archer from the country. A common soldier."
"Oh, I believe that," said Vivian. "Just an ordinary rider. So how's the mood out there?"
"Well, it was pretty good where I was! Sorry. No, I think they're all pretty optimistic. And they're glad to be doing something. Fighting to defend your home is honorable and it's easy to get motivated, but it's not as much fun as conquest."
"Yes, I'd agree with that, but let's not forget that this is all just a ploy."
"Still," said Ellean, "I pity the poor Farlain commandant at Angren. These guys don't think they can be beaten."
The rain held off until afternoon and then amounted to only a thin drizzle, but the sun never got through to warm up the day to Clanish July standards. They bivouacked along the road in what had a few years ago been heavily populated farm country, but was now a no-man's-land returning to the wild state. Vivian dined with her advisors.
"They seem to have no idea we're coming," said Sir Rogier. "I suspect a trap. And yet--"
"And yet there are only a thousand men within Angren," said Thane Horst. "I think they're just incompetent."
"Well," said Vivian, "the Emperor has drawn off the best troops to his own fight. Presumably that includes the best commanders. What I want to know is, how many are being sent back up here? Any? Do we know?"
"We don't know of any," said Thane Horst. "But your man Willd is out on a long scout today still, and he may come back with that information."
"So you men really have nothing to tell me."
"That's right," said Sir Rogier. "I'll be the first to admit it."
"And the food stinks, too, but that's not your fault. Why couldn't Hugo have come along just to cook for me?"
"My lady," said Thane Horst, "even Count Theodred did not employ a Thane to cook for him. But I sympathize. Would you like me to see what I can whip up for breakfast?"
"Why not? How much worse could it be?"
"A great deal," said Thane Horst. "Have some more wine. At least that's the good stuff."
It was after midnight when Vivian was awakened by someone breathing her name in her ear. She stretched and muttered his name back.
"Willd," she said. "What news?"
"No sign of troops returning yet on the River road. They're not impressed with our army."
"We'll make them impressed." She reached out and pulled his face down to hers for a long kiss. When she regained her breath, she asked, "Is Ellean back?"
"I don't know, I don't think so. Do you want me to check?"
"Ssh." They both stayed quite still for a moment and heard no sound inside the tent. "No, she's still off having her way with my soldiers. Good."
He was about to reply, but he didn't get the chance. She caught him again in her arms and soon the only sounds were the smacking of lips together, and the shifting of bedclothes. An hour later, when Ellean returned, she did not notice that the tent had an extra occupant--just that there was a scent of male sweat in the warm air.
The next morning, the fourteenth of July, began with a steady downpour. The three awoke at the same time to the sound of rain on their tent, and all sat up in their blankets. "So," said Ellean, "I see that Lady Virtuous has decided to grant herself an indulgence."
"Ellean, he is the father of my daughters. And yes, I remembered my powder."
"I'm glad to hear that," said Ellean. "Now is that man of yours going to go off somewhere to clean up, while we take care of our morning necessities?"
"Just leaving," said Willd, his first words of the day. He stood up, pulling around him the robe he had left near the bedding. He turned to leave, and Vivian, grabbing the hem, yanked it off of him. Blushing in the near-dark, he grabbed the robe back up and hurried out of the tent to the sound of girlish giggling.
By noon the rain had dwindled to a few spits, and the host approached the western fields of the manors of Angren. The leaders gathered in a knot.
"Four miles to Rain Hall," said Weaver. "They've built a semblance of wall on this side of the town, but the hall is outside of it."
"My lady," said Thane Horst, "let's send this young fellow with his riders around to the other side of town, to cut off communication with Vonnis. Then we can march up and deal with whoever's in command at our leisure."
"Sure," said Vivian. "Order it so."
"My Countess," said Sigrith, riding up, "the Rukh wish the honor of the assault upon the nearby gate."
"If there's an assault to be made," said Vivian. "I'm hoping they'll surrender."
"They won't," said Thane Horst, "or if they do, they won't do it quickly. They'll play for time, at least for a few days."
"Still, if we can capture a thousand Farlainers and the town of Angren without much loss of life, that would be good, right?"
"Oh, I agree," said Thane Horst. "And the local commander may lack the nerve or brilliance of his superiors."
"Who are not," Sir Rogier pointed out, "especially known for their nerve or brilliance."
"I know," said Vivian. "Just last month I was talking with Lord Sperrin de Faal about that. He agreed with me that the Farlain leadership are spineless scum."
"My lady, I'm jealous. You're giving that poor prisoner the verbal abuse you used to reserve for your ministers."
"Oh, I wouldn't worry. There's plenty to go around."
On the night of 14 July the army camped before the west gate of Angren. "It didn't have much of a gate when I lived here," said Lady Angeline Rain. "At least the Hall is still intact." The Countess was having a leisurely dinner in the open air; in fact, the whole army was enjoying what might be called a barbecue. A herd of cattle and pigs had not been gathered back into the town by the occupiers from the south, and had given their lives to feed their rightful masters.
"My compliments to the chef," said Vivian. "These guys know how to grill a slice of beef. What's the tactical situation? And pass me some bread."
"Here you go," said Thane Horst. "The wall's not much of an obstacle, although that gate's a nice piece of work. They've abandoned your old house, Lady Angeline, but it's within bowshot of the gate tower."
"I'll stay here for now," Angeline replied.
"We've communicated with the commandant," said Sir Rogier. "He's not much use, but he's certainly under orders to delay. At least he knows he's surrounded. Weaver took possession of a supply shipment an hour or so ago. That'll be our wine for dinner tomorrow night."
"Well, it's not ale, but it'll have to do," said the Countess. "Fill my cup again, would you?"
That night Vivian took another cautious look at the situation in the south, while Ellean and Willd watched and kept an eye on the tent flap. After no more than half an hour, Vivian shrugged herself out of trance.
"What did you see?" asked Ellean.
"The armies are about ten miles apart, about forty miles east of Avigon. They're just sitting there, while their outriders are pretty much sacking the entire Grand Duchy to feed them. It's been raining down there, so maybe both sides are waiting for the weather to give them an advantage."
"The Dukes still have the edge in numbers?" asked Willd.
"More than an edge. They have twice as many, I'm sure of it."
"Then," said Willd, "the Dukes are waiting for nice weather. The pleasanter the day, the better for the side with the numbers."
"I bet the Emperor has a trick up his sleeve," said Ellean. "Like a spell or something. Maybe he's making the rain fall."
"I wonder," said Vivian. "Why would he delay? There isn't another army out there, I looked. Unless he can hide it from me, which I suppose is possible."
"Can you interfere with his interfering with the weather?" asked Ellean.
"No, no, even if he is, I can't. He's stronger than me, and older and wiser and smarter, whoever his is. Besides, I don't know if it wouldn't make it worse. It might wind up snowing. But I wonder--there's a full moon on the twenty-fourth, so maybe--I don't know. Maybe he's still trying to come up with a plan, playing for time. No, there's only one thing we can do, and we're doing it. And we have to do it more."
The next day was again rainy, and while the Clanish army drew its cordon tighter around Angren, their foes inside showed no sign of losing their nerve. The only action of the day came when a hundred riders from the direction of Vonnis tried to challenge the cataphracts and were turned back with losses. That night the Countess gathered her leaders for another council.
"It was just a test," said Weaver. "They'll send more if they think we're actually going to take the town."
"But we can't take it by siege any time soon," said Thane Horst.
"How long can they hold out?" asked Vivian.
"Oh, a week, ten days?" replied the Thane. "Sure. I'll bet they have plenty of supplies. And the sooner we get hold of the place, the more of those supplies will be ours."
"Well," said the Countess, "I'm afraid we'll have to take it by force. We can't wait any longer. If the Emperor won't be impressed until we win a battle and take a town, then let's do it now. Tomorrow. What's the weather going to be?"
The old men looked at each other. Sigrith spoke up. "My air-sniffers say clear sunny skies. Already the clouds are blowing away: we may see the moon tonight before she sets."
"That's good for us," said Vivian, "since we have the numbers, for once. All right, you're all the geniuses, order it as you see fit, but let's do it tomorrow morning as early as we can."
"May I remind you, Countess--" said Sigrith.
"You don't have to," said Vivian. "Sigrith's Rukh will share the attack with the Westdubbik pikes. But let's please minimize losses--you know how to do that?"
"Countess," said Egon, "I have sat here quietly, but no more. You wanted to know if I would live up to military obligations. Now I wish to do so."
"My knights would be greatly honored by a place in this battle," said Prince Frenerac.
"All right," said Vivian, "anything, whatever, let's just have everyone attack. Why don't you lords figure it out yourselves? Just minimize losses. Can you do that please? I'm going to bed."
In her tent she found Willd and Ellean playing a game on a square board. Vivian had seen some of the Rukh playing it in the camp, and at the moot last winter. It looked as though two armies, one in white, the other in black, were slowly massacring one another. Just now Willd, commanding the white army, was scratching his chin while Ellean sharpened arrows. She had a pile of twenty or so on either side of her.
"What's this?" asked Vivian.
"The Rukh play it," said Ellean. "It's called Schakh, Chakh, something like that. Egon and Siglind showed it to me. You'd like it, Vivie. See this guy? He's called the Emperor, the Chieftain, something like that. If he gets caught it's all over."
"Sounds reasonable," said Vivian.
"Chakh," said Willd, making a move. "Is that how that works?"
"Yeah, fine," said Ellean. She pointed to the piece he had just set down before her Emperor. "Now see this one, Viv? This is the Countess, or the Lady Chieftain, Siglind had trouble with the translation. She's the most powerful one on the board."
"Oh, I like that. But Willd's Lady Chieftain is giving you some trouble."
"Oh, yes," said Ellean, "but in this game, even these Peasants can do damage." She swiped his Countess with a nearby pawn. He groaned.
"That's the third in a row," he said. "I'm beaten again."
"Not yet," said Ellean. "You can always take my castle there."
"Oh, that's not fair. You beat me, and then you help me so you can beat me again."
"Are you going to do it or not? Castles are quite valuable."
He sighed, and, moving one of his pointy-headed priests, crossed the board and took possession of her castle, sitting in the corner. "I suppose I should thank you."
"Don't jump to conclusions," said Ellean. Her Countess marched forward three squares and sat down right in front of his Emperor. "What do you think?"
He stared at the board in pessimistic puzzlement. Then he saw what was going on. "That's it," he said, "you've done it again. I'm dead."
"Why?" asked Vivian. "Can't you--?"
"No," said Ellean, "he'd be in range of this knight here."
"How about--?"
"Not that either, because of my peasant there."
"All right, what if--never mind, I suppose that won't work either. Poor Willd, I fear you've been outsmarted by a woman again."
"My lady," he said, "I have long since lost to you all there is for me to lose. There is no more this girl can take from me."
"There's no more she'd better take from you. But I must take up this game. It seems to me that this is what we are playing with the Emperor. Only I am not so great as this Countess here. I'll be happy if, like your priest, I can take the castle that sits off in one corner of the map."
Vivian lay alone again that night, for her lover was off scouting, and sleep would not come. She got up and found a spot beside Ellean, who put her arms around her Countess and whispered comfortingly. Before dawn, Vivian awoke, still in Ellean's arms. She extricated herself with great care, but not quite great enough.
"Has it started yet?" Ellean asked, rolling out of the sack.
"Not without me, I hope," said Vivian. "Get up and go find your horsebows. Oh, and by the way, thanks for not going off last night."
"Never on the night before a battle," said Ellean. She smiled. "I'm glad I was here too."
They emerged from their tent a few minutes later, washed and dressed, and saluted the soldier that stood guard outside. Then they parted with a tight hug. While Ellean went off to find That Colt, Vivian headed for Thane Horst's tent.
"What's going on?" she asked upon entering and finding Thane Horst, Thane Burley, Sir Rogier and several officers, as well as Angeline.
"Sigrith's gone off to lead her warriors," said Sir Rogier, "and Egon's gone off to see to it that she doesn't show him up too badly, and generally everything seems to be going ahead of schedule."
"Well, then, let's start the attack. I'm not at all used to being on the offensive."
"My lady, when I said things were ahead of schedule, I meant that it's probably starting without us."
Vivian looked at Angeline, who gave her a gaze full of threatened guilt. "Hey, it's not my fault," said Vivian. "Come on, let's go have a look. Where's Finesse?"
The horses were brought, but while they were waiting they could hear the shouts of attack and the clash of weapons. By the time the Countess had ridden to within sight of the west gate, the fight was nearly over there. The sun was just up, and here before the partial wall and imposing gate lay a scene of slaughter, of Rukh and Clanish soldiers dead and wounded. There was a shout of victory, and Vivian looked up from the carnage. The grey cat couchant flew atop the gate. There was Sigfrinda, and beside her were pikemen from Westdubbik. Through the spy-glass, Vivian could see that the parapet was draped with dead Farlainers. The shouts and clashes had moved back into the town. At the gate, the twittering of birds on their morning errands could be heard.
"Shall we go up to the gate?" asked Vivian.
"We most certainly shall not," said Sir Rogier. "I might entertain the idea of visiting Rain Hall, but that rampart is by no means safe enough just yet for the Countess."
"Oh, don't give me that! When my men have been dying--"
"My lady," said Angeline, "let's go see if there's some tea in the pantry."
"Oh, all right," said Vivian. She allowed herself to be led around the scene of the fight. She and Sir Rogier and Angeline dismounted in front of Angeline's old house, and found that it had been abandoned for days. The door stood open, some of the windows were missing, and the flag was gone from the roof. Three Clanish soldiers stood and saluted as the Countess approached.
"Is it safe inside?" asked Sir Rogier.
"Yes, sir," one of the soldiers replied. "Quite a mess, but safe," said the other.
Vivian looked back toward the scene of fighting, but Angeline grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up the two steps and into the house. They stood in the entryway and looked into the dining room, which seemed to have been filled with trash. The panels of the walls were pulled off, the ceilings stained and scarred, the chandelier long gone, only an ugly round welt in its place. The table around which Vivian had told the story of her treatment at the hands of the Farlain guards was still there, but one leg was missing, and the rest seemed to have been subjected to a wine marinade. Beyond the dining room, they could see into the kitchen, and it was also a disaster.
"Oh, no," said Angeline. "Look."
In the middle of the floor was a pile of horse manure. Angeline began to weep. Vivian left Sir Rogier to comfort her, turned and went out. They found her walking among her dead soldiers.
It was only two hours into the day when the Farlainers remaining in Angren finished surrendering, including their commandant, a lieutenant about thirty-five years old. He was brought to the Countess to formally surrender, but he had to wait, as everyone else who wanted to talk to her did: she was kneeling, covered with small stains of mud and blood, by a young man from Gorngold, who had received an arrow to the stomach but seemed on his way to recovery. Three other men leaned here and there against stone slabs, all recovering from severe but not fatal wounds. The field, unfortunately, still held plenty of men, and some of the women of the Rukh, who did not survive the arrows and spears and stones from the walls.
Finally Sir Rogier brought the lieutenant over to the Countess. She did not look up, but said, "You've come to surrender?"
"Yes, my lady, I have."
"You could have done it earlier and saved a lot of lives."
"Yes, my lady, I'm sorry."
"All right, take him and put him with the other prisoners," said Vivian. As the lieutenant was led away, Willd stepped up. "Thank the Sun," she said to him. She held up her hands. "I hope you don't mind if I don't take you in my arms."
"My lady," said Willd, taking her bloodstained hand and petting it absently, "we have lost about a hundred, mostly here before the gate, and they have lost a similar number, also mostly around the gate. Once Sigfrinda took the parapet, the fight was over."
"Except for a futile attempt to break through the cataphracts," said Thane Horst. "But the Farlainers weren't trying very hard, and Weaver made it clear that offers of surrender would be seriously considered."
"A hundred's too many," said Vivian.
"Well," said Thane Horst, "here are four who will not have to be buried as heroes just yet. I did not know you knew medicine as well."
"I just gave them water and bound their wounds. Two soldiers helped me: Orland and Oliver, they're called, I think--that's them over there among the, among the dead." They looked where she pointed, and two of the men that had been guarding the house were going among the fallen, checking for signs of life and arranging the bodies in more dignified positions, straightening out their legs, rolling them on their backs, folding their arms across their waists. Vivian turned to the men whom she had been nursing. "Are you going to be all right?"
The nearest two nodded, and the third smiled painfully. The fourth held up a metal cup. "Could I--my lady--"
"Let me," said Willd, stepping over to fill up the cup with water.
"Hmm," said Vivian. "Maybe we should try moving you fellows to more comfortable lodging." It was only then that the others noticed what the wounded men were leaning on: the tombstones of the Rain family plot.
On the night of 16 July 774, Countess Vivian sat in Rain Hall drinking Farlain wine and eating roast pork in mushroom sauce. She swallowed a mouthful and said, "Those Farlainer cooks, by the way. We're keeping them."
The place had been cleaned up to the extent that its interior no longer bore any resemblance to the old Rain Hall. They talked of times past and spoke of the weather, but as the dishes were being cleared out by Westdubbikan privates, Thane Horst reverted to news of the day.
"We now have three hundred horses we didn't have before," he said, "and a sizeable herd of pigs beyond what we're eating tonight, and several hundred gallons of wine, and about five thousand florins in gold, and, let's see, perhaps five hundred score of arrows never used, and sundry other weapons. There is also clothing and boots, and some chain mail, and paper and ink in great supply, but they never did get to write of the defeat of the Countess."
"A hundred dead," said Vivian. "Was it worth it?"
"Well, we can't go fighting wars and not have some people die," said Sir Rogier. "A hundred is very few, to me. It's their sacrifice for the good of Clane, you know."
"Oh, sure," said Vivian. "I just want to know what the going rate is. How many gallons of wine should we spend a man's life for?"
The lords just looked at each other. "My lady," said Thane Horst, "we had more to gain than supplies, and we may soon find that we have gained it, if the Emperor has to send more men up here."
"Then there may be another battle, and then another, and down south there will be a great battle, always the soldiers massing, always the weapons, always the strategy, always the dying."
They were saved from having to reply by the sound of hooves outside, and the entrance of an officer. "My lady, my lords," he said, "one comes from Vonnis to arrange for parley."
"Oh really?" Vivian replied, with a tiny change of expression. "A Farlainer?"
"Yes, my lady, but he says he's sent by Neil."
"Well," she said with a smile, "tell him we're ready to parley at the Vonnis gate of Angren whenever he likes. Let's see what Neil's willing to trade for a little security. And start assembling the army in town. If that snot needs another pounding, we can give him that too."
But there was no more fighting that summer at Angren or anywhere near. Neil, whose representative called him the Viscount Neil, was willing to pay money for the release of prisoners, and Vivian, for her part, represented by Sir Rogier, played an aggressive hand and demanded the surrender of Vonnis. She would kindly allow the Farlainers and their viscount (what mattered it to her what he called himself? she had her own names for him) to withdraw southward. Meanwhile word came that the Emperor had been forced to detach three thousand Farlain cavalry and send them back toward Vonnis. "They won't be here for at least eight days," said Sir Rogier on the twentieth of July.
"Neil will be acting smug long before then," guessed Vivian.
"Yes, unless the Dukes get their battle before then. The last word we received seemed to indicate a great intensity of inaction down there in the Grand Duchy."
"That's what I expected," said Vivian, whose view with her Eye, dimmed by the waxing moon, still showed the two great armies standing just out of each other's reach in the flatlands while the rains continued to pour. Over Clane, the skies were cloudless.
The days dragged by. Rain Hall and other abodes in Angren were partially repaired, and some folk who had stayed were reunited with their sons who had come back. The dead were cremated, those of both sides, and the ashes interred in rows before the West Gate, whose stones were used for grave markers. The army spent the next week dismantling the gate. Meanwhile Vivian brooded, and negotiated, and met privately with the famous informant "John", and probed with her Eye, and walked the old streets.
A week after the battle, she and Angeline and Ellean found themselves in the square where the shadow figure had attacked. Vivian had expected to feel some remnant of dread or loss or pain, but instead noticed that there was no spirit in the place, either for her or against her. Angren itself was empty of its souls, as only a few hundred of its thousands had managed to carry on under occupation, and all of the old houses were gone or badly marred. If it felt like anything, it felt like Angren was--waiting.
Here I am, she wanted to say. Where are you?
And here was the very spot--perhaps those were the very stains of the Countess's blood. She bent down to look: sure enough, old blood still could be seen dry in the cracks of the cobblestone street. She ran her fingers over it, but as she stood up she realized that there was a lot of dried blood in Angren.
"What now?" asked Angeline.
"Well, there's one thing we can surely do," replied Vivian, "one deal that even our old friend Neil won't pass up."
The next day, the twenty-fourth of July of 774, was hot and cloudy at the end of a week of brilliant sun. Thunder rolled to the south, and the skies seemed to be gathering the strength for a memorable storm. Meanwhile, the dilatory negotiations, between a Countess intent only on making a pest of herself and a "viscount" whose only incentive was to delay until he could get reinforcements, were replaced by the hurry of messengers back and forth. By evening it was settled: the exchange would occur the next day, in midmorning, a few medium-level officers held prisoner by Vivian for one Vonnis dungeon-dweller. She retired for a nap in late afternoon, while yet the clouds were trying to patch together a storm's worth of energy.
Vivian awoke from distasteful dreams to the sound of nearby thunder. She leapt up and went to the window--yes, it was Angren, and yes, the tents of her men still decorated the town and the fields around it. She gripped the window, the second floor window of Lord Armand's dilapidated house, and took in the storm: the monstrous shapes of the clouds in their threatening hues of grey and black and brown and even a sickly green, and the echoing rolling booming of thunder, the sudden illumination of the dark world by light not of the sun or moon, and then, the relief of the downpour as the grateful earth drank in the slamming rain. She had seen corpses, many corpses--but they weren't Farlainers or Samarrans or Orzalians or men of the Grand Duchy. They were her friends and ministers, Ellean, Angeline, Weaver, Sir Rogier, Thane Hugo, Sigrith, Prince Frenerac, and many others she knew a little and who served her without question. She alone, with her elder daughter, had walked the nighted field.
Now that the dream came back to her, she wanted never to risk her friends and those who swore to serve her in battle, and knew that wanting such a thing was very far from choosing it. They did not follow her in order to live peaceful lives. They did not follow her because she was the only child of the previous Count. They followed because they wanted what she wanted. They could choose to put their lives at risk--they trusted her to choose, because they felt the fire in her heart for their homeland and their freedom. No, if the only way to escape slaughter was to turn from the conflict ahead, most of those she had seen dead in her dream would choose slaughter. "Well," she said to herself, "we'll just have to be careful."
Vivian pulled a cloak about her and over her head, and ran out into the rain to the mess tent. There, amid a crowd of captains and lords and knights, she ate a passable dinner washed down with a better-than-average wine. The rain fell to drizzle and then subsided. The soldiers took to singing drunken songs of love and loss, and then Vivian, hearing mention of the light of the moon upon some mistress's hair, suddenly remembered that it was the full moon. She excused herself. Back at her tent, Ellean was dressing up: she had on her riding pants and a tight-fitting shirt, and she was combing out her beautiful auburn hair, which she still wore shoulder-length in the same manner as Vivian. "How do I look?" she said.
"I wouldn't throw you out of bed," said Vivian. "Going to wear a hat? It's still drizzling."
"Do you think I should?" Ellean picked up a floppy hat of green felt. "I don't know why I brought it, if I'm not going to wear it."
"Yes, it does something for you," said Vivian. "Now go. I need to think."
"Oh," said Ellean. "Have fun. Don't let any weirdos in hoods come after you."
"I'll be on the lookout," said Vivian. "Don't forget the powder."
"Never fear," said Ellean, as she went out the door. Vivian went to her pack and got out the book and the cup and the cards and the candles and the decanter. She heard Ellean say to the guard, "No one disturbs the Countess tonight, understand? Except me and Willd."
Minutes later, Vivian was falling through the harmless flaps of evil, then alighting just inside the arch. She stood warily and looked around. There was a smoky haze about. She took several steps forward, then started as a shape came out of the mist, but it was her tutor. Side by side they went down the lane and came to the wide garden along the avenue.
But all was different here. Not the flowers and the mansion and the shrubbery and the bordered walks: these were in their usual places. But all about, under the thick haze, every open space of ground was filled with corpses. They were no one Vivian knew: she saw the redheads of Orzali, the dark hair and faces of the coasts, the smiling, beardless, black-haired countenances of the islands. Some wore the Imperial white, but many more were of the Duchies, by their badges, and many were ordinary foot soldiers with no badge at all but the one that united all of them, red wounds, gashes, deep stabs, blood in dried floods, small subtle punctures, great disfiguring slashes. Some lacked heads or arms or legs; heads, arms, legs lay around unclaimed. Corpses were piled up like junk in someone's back yard, they lay and sat and knelt in every sort of unnatural position, they remained in the last place they had crawled to, they lay flat on their backs staring at the sky, they were strewn about thoughtlessly, gracelessly, yes, pointlessly. She wandered among them, as metaphor chased metaphor in her mind: forgotten toys, fish cast from the sea, leaves fallen before winter, discarded trash. She shook her head. They had been men. No process of the mind could make sense of it.
She looked at her companion, who raised her eyebrows and shrugged. Then she noticed one oddity of the scene: it was a battle, but there were no survivors. There were no winners. She looked at her tutor again, but the lady turned and started to walk back toward the fountain. She seemed in a hurry. Vivian started after her, but could not resist a glance over her shoulder. There far off among the dead was one standing, looking around. It was the Emperor. Vivian turned to hurry after the Lady of the Fountain, and tripped over a body. She fell face to face with a young man of Orzali. He was still alive, his lips moving. He stank. A sentence of low sounds came from him, and then his eyes glazed and his head fell to the side.
She jumped up and ran onward, darting over the corpses as best she could. The Lady was out of sight now, but Vivian could feel one behind her still, and she knew whither lay the arch. She didn't stop running until she reached it and pitched herself through.
"Five spots," said the hefty Clanish cooper. "A silver if you can get six."
"In for a penny, in for a shilling," said the big blonde. "Come on, bone, you did your master little good, now make me some money. Ha! Five. Double it, my boy, if you still can."
"I can," said the cooper. "Where's your money from?"
"I got it from the likes of you," said the blonde. "It's got your countess on it-our countess, that is. Me first. Beat a--damn, beat a three."
"Let me at it," said the cooper. "Come on, bone, be good to me, you didn't help your owner much. Ah--no! Two! All right, horse-face, here's your two silvers. Double it maybe?"
"No, my friend," said the blonde, "if you still feel lucky, come over out of the light."
"Hey," said the grizzled sergeant, who had watched the dice game with a frown. "You're on watch, you two. Gambling's one thing, but--"
"He's just jealous," said the blonde. "There's nothing to watch."
"Moon says there is," said the cooper. "Look."
The three froze in their places. A man had approached their campfire silently, and now he stood no more than twenty feet from them, but they could not make out his features. He wore a dirty white frock over chain mail, and had a helmet on, and in his hand he bore a small bag.
"This is for your Countess," he said, tossing the bag into the ring of firelight.
They stood stock still until the man turned away and disappeared into the black night. Then the two gamblers started toward the bag with a pronounced hesitancy. "Don't even touch it," said the sergeant, putting aside his whittling. "I'll take care of this. If this don't beat all." He picked up the bag and looked at them. "Something like this, I've seen before. I'm not looking inside, and neither are you. If that fella says it's for the Countess, let her do the looking. And you two stay on watch, and keep your hands to yourselves until I get back. Then I'll let Dave relieve you." He turned and headed into the camp.
"Then it's set," said Vivian. It was well past midnight. "We make the exchange, and then the orders go out: we pull back to Tarnhold immediately."
"Is there news from the south?" asked Thane Horst.
"Uh, no," she said, truthfully. "But our purpose is served. Angeline, you'll have to give up your house."
"I knew I would," said Angeline. "I'm ready to go back to Tarnhold. At least I can start thinking about how to fix the old place up."
"And the men? Are they going to lose morale?"
"It hardly matters," said Thane Horst. "Everyone knows by now that we aren't going to get Vonnis back unless the Emperor be defeated. And I suppose we've done all we can in that regard."
"That's my view," said Vivian. "We can't wait here forever. When those three thousand cavalry join whatever's already at Vonnis--what, four thousand or more?--we'll be exposed in a difficult place to defend, and without numerical advantage. Of course, if the Dukes--"
"My lady," said a guard, "here is one with news."
"Let him come in."
The old sergeant came in, knelt and offered the bag to the Countess. "It's like this, my lady," he said, "just a few minutes ago a fellow in chain mail came up out of nowhere, right out of the mist, and threw this down in front of our fire. We never saw him till he was as far from us as Thane Sigrith over there is from me now. 'Take this to your Countess,' he said, and here it is."
She looked at him oddly, then took the bag. "Were you on the Bazir campaign?"
"I was, my lady, yes," he said. "It was me brought you news then too. I don't know what to make of it, my lady, but I've a guess as to what's inside."
"Well, thank you, no matter what," she said to the sergeant. She pulled open the drawstrings of the bag, which was of fine cloth bound with golden thread. She looked inside, but her expression did not change. She went over to a table and dumped out the contents. It was a finger, drained of blood and pale white, yet freshly cut from a hand. On it was a golden ring.
"This is familiar," said Sir Rogier.
"Yes," said Vivian, bending close and squinting, "but it's not Lord Smeagle's ring. It's the signet ring of the Duke of Orzali." Everyone in the room gasped except for the Countess and the sergeant. "Thank you, my good man," she said to him, fishing a coin out of her pocket, "you've earned a florin with my picture on it. Dismissed." The sergeant bowed low and went out. "Well, the Emperor sees fit to announce it directly. He has beaten the Dukes."
"Then our purpose here is over," said Sir Rogier.
"It was over before it started," said Vivian. Her calm was unscratched. "But our job is yet undone," she went on. "It now rests on us to defeat him, whom the most powerful lords of the Empire could not vanquish. Well, there's no more to say. Let's get some sleep."
A week later, the Countess and her comrades were back in Tarnhold. Most of their army had returned to farm, pasture, trade or shop, when news finally arrived before the Council of the defeat of the coalition led by the Dukes of Orzali, Rahavon and Samarra in what was called the Battle of Vodaru after an insignificant village over which the battle had washed. More than half of the participants died on that day, 24 July 774, including two thirds of the Dukes' men, along with the Duke of Orzali and the Counts of Vendrezu and Panthalla. The Emperor's victory was marginal at best--he had lost half his relatively small force, and none of the three rebellious duchies was much nearer to being under his control. He would be hard pressed even to consolidate his rule in the lands that saluted him, namely Farlain, the Grand Duchy, Amari, Inzil and southern Shadewind, and he depended on the Avar Khan for a sizeable part of his army. But few now disputed his claim. The new Emperor sat upon the throne of the old Empire, and wielded something of the old power.
"Our men were panicked whenever that shadow on horseback appeared," said the man who bore the news of Vodaru to the Countess. He was Rahavonian, and he proposed to return to his homeland in the fall, crossing through the mountains from Nikolad into Amari and thence traveling southwest across the hill country.
"How then did so many of the Emperor's men fall?" asked Vivian.
"My lady, it was a great battle, and all around the center men slew men without thought of what passed a little ways away. Why, I saw--"
"No, that's all right," said Vivian. "We lost a hundred, and that seemed grievous to me. I'd rather not spend effort imagining ninety thousand dead. Ninety thousand! That's half the population of Clane, man, woman and child. But we thank you for your sacrifices, and we will help you as we may. Your hard days are not over."
"And there is no assurance," said Sir Rogier, "that your sacrifices will be of any use, or of what the end will be, for Rahavon and Samarra and Orzali."
"But for Clane," said Vivian, "we will continue the fight, for we have special grievance against this Emperor. Have we not, my lords?"
"We have sworn," said Thane Horst, "and we who have stood with our Countess when she was cast out of her home four years ago will not turn our backs on her now. Besides, I trust her-- there is steel in her, that will not be ruled by anyone sitting in Avigon."
The other Thanes and the members of the council all solemnly raised their cups. "To the Countess," shouted Sigrith, and they drank.
"It will be a long struggle now," said Sir Rogier. "Until Vodaru, it might have been over this summer, but now--"
"Now," said Vivian, "we will be long tested, long tempered by the fire. But, as you say, Thane Horst, we have sworn, knowing it might go thus. An army of a hundred thousand has been scattered like leaves before the wind, and we will never build another one. But this Emperor is fighting the tide, in trying to rebuild the lost Empire. I had rather be in my own shoes than his. Now I will drink to you, my lords." She raised her cup and drained it. "Ah, that Farlain red."
"We have begun sending the captured soldiers home over the pass to Amari," said Thane Horst. "As your father did with the Rugians, the Rukh I mean."
"They'll have a harder time of it," said Sigrith. "They look too soft to stay on the march across all those miles of mountains, and feed themselves as well."
"Indeed," said Sir Rogier, "some have asked to stay in Clane, and Master Colmack is to find work appropriate to their talents. Eh, Purcell?"
"Always need road builders," said Purcell Colmack.
"At least we got something out of the campaign," said Sir Rogier.
"We got plenty out of it," said the Countess. "The Emperor's victory might have been greater than it was. And we got to return to Angren, if only for a week. And of course, when you add up the credits and the debits, don't forget--"
She turned to the man sitting at her right hand, who, though freshly shaven and cleaned, looked twenty years older than her, with grey hair and a thin, lined face. "Thank you, my lady," said Edgar. "Am I to return to my duties soon?"
"No, Edgar, you are not. We have Fergus serving in that role at present. Your job is to recompile the Annals and extend them to cover the years since the end of the Empire--well, what was thought the end. That should keep you busy for years. There's no hurry."
"Thank you, my lady," he said again. "I've been doing nothing but relax these past four years, so if you don't mind I'll get right to work doing whatever you bid me."
"Tomorrow," said Vivian. "My lords and ladies: tomorrow!" She raised her cup, which Jen had inconspicuously refilled.
"Tomorrow!" they all shouted, draining their glasses.
"My lady," said Thane Horst, "you seem surprisingly cheerful. What's wrong?"
"Well, why not be of good cheer?" she replied. "We are alive, our losses were not so great after all, and we know where our duty lies. And it only took thirteen years to get rid of the last Last Emperor."