Blood Song

There was a moment’s uncomfortable silence, several attendees registering surprise or confusion but Prince Malcius was the first to voice concern. “I am to be left here whilst the Realm Guard marches onwards into even greater peril?”

“The decision was not mine, Highness. King Janus gave me specific orders before we sailed. I have written copies if you want them.”

The prince’s jaw clenched and Vaelin saw how he fought to control his fury and humiliation. After a moment he spoke again, a barely concealed choke in his voice. “You expect Lord Vaelin to take a city with barely eight thousand men?”

“A poorly defended city by all accounts,” the Battle Lord countered. “And I’m sure so vaunted a commander as Lord Vaelin is equal to the task.”

Count Marven coughed several times, face flushed. In accordance with Nilsaelin custom his head was shaved to grey stubble which, along with the gold ring he wore in his mutilated left ear, gave him the look of an outlaw, a trait he shared with most of his men. “My Lord,” he addressed Al Hestian. “I mean no disrespect to Lord Vaelin, but I would point out my rank…”

“Rank is unimportant when set against ability and experience,” the Battle Lord interrupted. “Lord Vaelin has fought and won many battles whilst you, I believe, have merely engaged in skirmishes with the many outlaw bands haunting the highways of your fief.”

Count Marven glowered but his mouth remained closed despite his obvious anger.

“I cannot believe,” Prince Malcius said, “that my father would countenance this plan.”

“King Janus gave command of this army to me, Highness.” Al Hestian’s tone was one of forced civility but his entirely reciprocated dislike of the prince was palpable.

The argument continued, rising in volume as Vaelin pondered the plan. From what Sollis had said taking the city may not be a major problem but holding it was another matter. So far no mention had been made of the Alpiran forces which were probably already marching northward, no doubt in considerable numbers, and Linesh stood at the extreme end of the principal route through the hills fringing the eastern edge of the desert. It would almost certainly be the first target before the Alpirans turned to Marbellis, made all the more tempting by the presence of the Hope Killer. To call it a vulnerable position was a considerable understatement, as the Battle Lord well knew.

He rids himself of a rival for glory, Vaelin thought. Knowing the Alpirans will assail Linesh with all their might to revenge themselves on the Hope Killer, thinning their ranks in the process, whilst he wins eternal fame by taking Marbellis and holding it against siege. And by rendering me so vulnerable the Alpirans will have ample opportunity to give him the revenge he craves.

He frowned, remembering the Aspect’s instructions. Vulnerable… Away from the main body of the army, away from so many curious eyes. A tempting target…

“I believe this is an excellent plan,” he said brightly, quelling the blossoming fracas.

Prince Malcius stared at him, appalled. “My lord?”

“Battle Lord Al Hestian has difficult choices to make. Yet none can doubt his gifts for strategy after our recent victory. We should not lose faith in him now. I will happily accept this commission, and,” he gave Al Hestian a grave bow of respect, “I thank the Battle Lord for the honour.”

“You do see the trap in this, I assume?”

Vaelin unhitched Spit’s reins from the post and led him onto the gravel path, not looking at Sollis. “I see many things these days, master.”

“Brother,” Sollis corrected. “Brother Commander if you must. The days when you called me master are long past us.”

“And yet,” Vaelin checked the saddle strap and palmed away the dust on Spit’s flank, “it seems to me like yesterday.”

“You are no longer a child, brother. Sulking ill becomes a Sword of the Realm.”

Vaelin turned on him then, anger rising in his breast. Sollis met his gaze and made no backward step. One of the few men who would never be afraid of him. He knew he should welcome the company of such a man, but the Test of the Sword hung between them like a curse.

“I have my orders from the Aspect,” he told Sollis. “As, I’m sure, do you. I am merely attempting to follow them.”

“The Aspect ordered me to take my company into this carnival of fools. He did not say why.”