Kellanved's Reach

‘You’ve sent the girl to her death,’ Seth said. ‘I’ll have you drummed out of this company. You are no better than a murderer.’

‘We were wrong to interfere.’

‘So you say.’

‘So the cards said.’

Seth scowled. ‘Whatever do you mean?’

‘The Dragons Deck. I am no talent, formally. But I have some small ability. Every night this last month I have consulted the deck. And every time the connotations have been the same. I’ve tried all the arrangements and permutations I am familiar with. The Southern Arc. The Old and the New House. The Great Circle. Every time it has been clear. The girl has a Fate. A Wyrd. And we were wrong to come between her and it.’

‘Regardless. I will take this to Courian and have you dismissed.’

Gwynn shrugged. ‘Go ahead. Cal-Brinn will support me.’

Seth pushed himself from the table and stood. ‘Damned mages. Consider yourself under house arrest.’ He snapped his fingers and two guardsmen came forward. ‘Take this man to his room and hold him there.’

Pursing his lips, Gwynn slowly swirled his wine in the glass and finished it.

*   *   *

Orjin had the word spread through the ranks that come the dawn they would be making a break west. He knew he was taking a fearful chance in trusting the word of this agent and normally he would never have done so. Frankly, he would not have done so this time either, save for the support of his Dal Hon shaman Yune.

That night Arkady came to him with a band of hill tribe youths. ‘We will fight with you,’ their spokesman said.

Orjin shook a negative. ‘You shouldn’t. There’ll be retribution against your people.’

The youth laughed. ‘They sneer at us. Push us into poorer and poorer ground. Starve us. What worse can they do?’

‘I’m sorry,’ was all Orjin could say. ‘We will be honoured to have you with us.’

This lad inclined his head and the youths withdrew. Arkady remained, peering after them, and, to Orjin’s eyes, appearing troubled. ‘What is it?’ he asked.

‘It’s the same story among us Wickans,’ Arkady said. ‘And the Seti tribes. Encroachment. You coastal people with your city states creeping over the land.’

‘Surely you Wickans are too strong to be threatened.’

The scout shook his head. ‘It will happen. In time.’

Personally, Orjin didn’t think any force could subdue the Wickan tribes, but perhaps the same had once been said of the Seti. He lifted his shoulders. ‘We shall see.’

The Wickan lad gave him a wintry smile and followed the tribal youths.

This left the thorny matter of a rearguard. Orjin, of course, considered himself part of it. But so too would his lieutenants, and this was a problem as he needed them up front to bull through any strong resistance they might encounter.

So he ordered them all to take the van, while they, in turn, ignored his order.

Even as troops were filing out of camp he was still arguing the point. ‘I mean it,’ he told them. ‘Get going.’

‘You must take the van,’ Orhan answered.

‘No – I’ll take the rear, make certain everyone gets out.’

‘This time rearguard’s mine,’ Terath said. She motioned Orhan forward. ‘Guard him.’

The huge fellow nodded. ‘Very good. Orjin and I shall lead the charge.’

Orjin gave the Untan ex-officer a hard look. ‘You’re certain?’

She waved him off. ‘Get going or the fight’ll be over.’

He let out a hard breath, rolled his shoulders to loosen them. ‘Fine. This time. But next time it’s mine.’

‘Whatever. Go.’

He gave her a nod, then clapped Orhan on the shoulder. ‘Let’s go.’

As Orjin suspected, breaking through the encirclement was the easier job – for now. Of course the Quon Talian troops were expecting a desperate last-minute break for freedom, but not to the west. The west was their stronghold, firmly in their grip, and of course beyond lay the coast. An insurmountable barrier. A dead end.

And they would be right – should no relief arrive from these erstwhile new allies.

In a squall of blowing snow he and Orhan came crashing through an encampment of cookfires and lean-tos of fresh spruce branches over frames, scattering the Quon Talian infantry. While shock and surprise were on their side he paused here to wave his troops through.

A small victory, but the infantry would reorganize and then it would be a chase. The last unit through was Terath’s; she urged him up the path while arranging her troop behind cover.

‘We’ll hold them up for a while,’ she told him.

‘Unnecessary. Let’s go.’

She pushed him on. ‘Get back to the front, dammit!’

He pointed for emphasis. ‘Do not delay.’

She waved him onward. ‘Yes, yes.’

Orjin jogged off up the path.

The rest of that day was something of a game of hide and seek with the Talian infantry. Orjin’s hill tribe youths scouted ahead, chose routes, and sent them by roundabout paths, cliff-side walks, and down the rocky spillways of frigid mountain streams to avoid strongpoints and ambushes.