Markan Throne

  Indelgar – a patrol commander who until recently had fought under Branad Vintner – reported that he had broken the enemy on the pyramid side of the walls. The scouts said that Kestan thought highly of Indelgar. Dekran reported that those he fought were putting up a feeble resistance and from within the city...

  "They run!" squeaked Neptarik. "They are leaderless and they run!"

  But still no sign of panic among the enemy outside the walls. If Hingast's army had suddenly lost the stomach to fight inside the city, there was no hint outside.

  Kelanus began to snap orders again. "Once the mangonels have loosed, attack the enemy. Attack, follow, attack."

  He glanced at Balnus and smiled, before looking the other way into Sallis ti Ath's less friendly face.

  "How are you finding your first battle?" asked Kelanus.

  Ti Ath managed a small smile. "They say new experiences are good for the soul, but this is not on my list of things to repeat in future."

  "I don't suppose you'll be of any help with the Gift."

  Ti Ath raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps, if needed."

  Kelanus increased the pace a little; the time for drawing blood was at hand. Abruptly, he and the army were in the thick of the fighting. Swords, pikes and axes flashed. Arrows mowed down men from above in deadly showers.

  Even here Neptarik relayed the messages from the other scouts. That flow would slow and stop soon as not even sylphs could hear whistled reports above the din of battle.

  The scout stayed at Kelanus's side in case any messages must be carried through the battle. Few sylphs relished this task, but Neptarik had always been good at holding his nerve in the middle of fighting. Unlike most of his race, he could hide fear. It had an effect, though: his eyes were no longer wild and a lot of his earlier excitement had gone.

  "Marcus Vintner and Marshal Mikhan are pushing the enemy back," he calmly informed his commander, if with a huge grin splitting his face. "Some reports say that the coronation building is back under Markan control, others say not. But Hingast's men are falling back." His voice squeaked again in excitement. "They still run, donenya."

  Kelanus nodded. "It's time to wrap this up."

  ***

  "The Senate is back under our control," Belaika informed Mikhan. "Hingast is dead, Zenepha-ya is free." The sylph's eyes were expressionless.

  Mikhan glanced down from his horse and nodded. "Thank you." Enemy troops fell over each other in their haste to withdraw and yet seemed reluctant to flee the city. Many were cut down before they ran far. From outside the walls, he heard mangonels release; presumably those Kelanus had captured as nothing fell into the city. Shouts and screams came from outside the walls also, perhaps part of the reason why not many of Hingast's men were eager to leave. He turned to his yeoman.

  "Remind everybody that we are civilized," he said. "We take prisoners." There might be a lot of them if they were reluctant to run.

  The yeoman nodded acknowledgment before obeying the order. The streets between here and the gate were littered with corpses of defenders and attackers alike. Markans added more Eldovans to the dead, as the defenders steeled themselves to eject the invader. Kelanus waited outside, ready to kill a few more.

  Belaika turned his face back up to Mikhan. "The enemy is broken outside the walls, the only resistance is outside the South Gate."

  Mikhan nodded. No need to change his orders. Kelanus would continue his work outside the walls and the marshal knew he had nobody better to do it. He was vaguely aware of yet more defenders adding their strength at this end of the city, frowning as he glimpsed Ranallic. He must have deserted his command at the North Gate, together with a good number of his men. The General had a sword in each hand, making the most of his ambidexterity.

  "Find out what he's doing here," he snapped at Belaika, the scout nodding his head and whistling the question. The scout with Ranallic replied instantly.

  "There are more women at the North Gate," Marcus's scout informed Mikhan. "The older ones. Outside the walls, Hingast's men support those this end of the city."

  Mikhan was still not satisfied. "Is there a scout with them?"

  Belaika nodded.

  "Warn the defenders at that end that Hingast has switched his attack before. There is nothing to stop his commanders from doing it again."

  "Se bata." Belaika whistled the command and quickly received an acknowledgment.

  Mikhan looked down at the sylph, a wistful smile turning his lips. "It seems events have turned in our favor after all. Come, we will advance to the gate."

  ***

  Kelanus grudgingly admitted to being impressed how well the enemy held up. Most light came from the stars, a little from light crystals within Marka, the ruby crystal atop the giant pyramid and from fires where his men torched captured war machines.

  He held the advantage, both of numbers and the sylphs' ability to see in the dark, which allowed him to deploy his men to best use. But the only determined resistance surrounded the South Gate. Though the melee had reduced to two defensive squares, Kelanus knew better than to charge them straight away; he instead used two sets of captured mangonels to pound the enemy into submission. Elsewhere, the scouts reported enemy soldiers and camp retainers fleeing into the forest and along the roads. A problem for another time.

  Kelanus's other commanders now closed on the South Gate, having cleared the enemy from around the city perimeter. Sylph scouts stood ready to give warning of any regrouping. He bent down to Neptarik.

  "Any news of Hingast, Janost or Hanan?" he asked the sylph. The whereabouts of the enemy captains concerned him most.

  "Hingast is dead," replied the scout instantly, a hint of reproof in his tone. "Already told you that." He whistled the question. Moments passed before an answer returned. "Janost might still be in the city. Other than that..." Neptarik shrugged.

  "Thank you." Kelanus smiled. He probably fought Hanan right now. "Command: increase rate of fire from catapults."

  While Neptarik whistled the order, Kelanus turned to Balnus. "Ready the cavalry and have infantry ready to follow."

  "The squares?" Balnus sounded surprised. "They have pikes."

  "Ti Ath." Kelanus's voice was quiet. "I have use for your Gift now. Grayar has already refused me. Ride with the cavalry, blast a way through."

  Sallis ti Ath inclined his head, without any hint of subservience.

  "Wait for my command. Let the war machines do their work first."

  As more men poured from Marka, further detachments were ready to cut them down or take prisoners as the situation demanded. Many who left the gate were ready to surrender as word leaked out that Hingast lay dead and the other commanders had deserted their men. Some were made of sterner stuff and wanted to fight, to kill as many as possible before losing their own lives. Perhaps they believed those lives were forfeit if captured.

  The mangonels increased their rate of fire. Kelanus tensed, waiting for the right moment to give the order...

  ***

  Zandra glanced to her side. Eleka looked back and Zandra smiled.

  "Just making sure you're still there," she said.

  Eleka nodded.

  "Belaika will never forgive me if you come to any harm."

  The sylph smiled. "Neither will I."

  Zandra assumed Eleka was joking. Then again, sylphs were strange creatures and often frighteningly fatalistic.

  Not for the first time, she wished she had a fully trained sylph scout; Eleka took her time to decipher and formulate whistles. Even so, she had done very well.

  The corpses littering the city's streets sickened her. She felt sorry even for Hingast's soldiers, despite everything for which they were responsible. Perhaps these men were not those who had pillaged and destroyed many of the farms throughout Marka's environs, but they represented those who had.

  "Anya!" hissed Eleka.

  Zandra swung her sword again as an enemy soldier drifted too close, but he dodged aside and away. This was not the first warning she had
received from her "scout". She had no idea how many she had killed tonight, if any. It was one thing to train to use a sword and quite another to get involved in a battle. She had never felt so frightened, so elated or so alive as now.

  Even so, she could see that the fighting slowed, perhaps coming to an end. Or she had strayed into a quiet area.

  Zandra knew the women could be proud of their achievements tonight. They had released men from the North Gate by taking their stations, they had stiffened the resistance of the defenders at the southern end of the city and, even now, they fought alongside the men. Quite happy to follow the orders of more experienced commanders, Zandra remained at the forefront of the fighting, at least until now. She had no idea how many hours of darkness were left.

  Zenepha was somewhere close by, having given his orders for those traitors now locked away to be dealt with later in accordance with the law. When the soldiers realized he stood among them, they cheered him. That might have been half a night or minutes ago. She had glimpsed her husband three times during the whole battle, ominously without Jablon.

  More cheers went up from the soldiers and spread rapidly towards her, hot on the heels of yet another snippet of news. Or perhaps rumor. Nobody knew for certain.

  "Kelanus has won outside the gate," went the whisper, moments before she added her voice to the cheering.

  There were more prisoners; enemy soldiers who recognized they could not salvage their situation. The clatter of dropped weapons and shields resounded all around. Cheers grew in intensity as Zandra learned more soldiers had appeared at the South Gate, waving the dragon's head banner to prove whose side they were on.

  She turned to Eleka and hugged the sylph, tears of joy staining her face.

  "It's over," she laughed. "At last, it is over."

  ***

  Zenepha surveyed the corpses littering the square and shivered. The uncomfortable memory of Hingast's knife at his throat, tempered only by the sight of Marcus Vintner bursting into Coronation Hall through the window. Never again would people see the depiction of the Founding Mark's coronation: that window was irreplaceable and its like would not be seen again.

  "Majesty, the traitors should be tried by court martial." Captain Crallin was at his side.

  Zenepha glanced at Marcus and Mikhan, who nodded their heads.

  "No," he replied, voice even. "Under Markan Law."

  "Majesty, you can't be seen to be weak in this," insisted Marcus. "I share your repulsion of summary justice, but a court martial would quickly establish the facts and execute sentence immediately afterward."

  The sylph's eyes flashed. "No."

  Marcus spread his hands and shrugged at Mikhan.

  "Who told everybody I was a prisoner?" Zenepha changed the subject. "He must be rewarded."

  "Yes," replied Mikhan, absently, "he must."

  "Janin-y-Sandev," answered Marcus, one hand resting on Belaika's shoulder. "He's done very well, considering he's not even properly trained."

  "Where is he?"

  Belaika pointed. "Still on the roof. On his way down now."

  Distant cheering caught their attention and the sylph began to report to his owner, earpoints twitching as he listened to the whistles flying around.

  "Kelanus has soldiers at the South Gate. Our soldiers." His silvery gray eyes shone with pride. "The siege is lifted, enya."

  Marcus turned to Zenepha. "South Gate, Majesty?"

  As the only scout, Belaika led the small group through the streets. It was still dark, but torches and light crystals showed the way. Smoke drifted through the streets. People began to appear from their hiding places and some already danced in the streets. City Guardsmen checked corpses, to ensure that they were corpses and not enemy soldiers with ideas of glory once backs were turned.

  His earpoints twitched as he heard a choked sob from Djerana. The ilven would not leave Zenepha even now. The sylph glanced behind at the small retinue, pleased his owner was immediately behind him.

  Belaika gritted his teeth and his earpoints wilted a little as he saw a patch of blue silk. It was a woman who had marched with Zandra and paid the ultimate price. A boy and a girl cried beside her, the boy tugging uselessly at a limp arm. The scout glanced over his shoulder at his owner.

  "What do you expect me to do, Icca?"

  He looked away and his earpoints wilted further. Only Djerana looked as distressed as he felt. Zenepha, in conversation with Mikhan and Crallin, might not have seen.

  Soldiers in the streets stared at their Emperor and began to chant.

  "Zen-ep-ha! Zen-ep-ha! Zen-ep-ha!"

  The chant grew louder and louder as more and more soldiers took it up, banging weapons against shields or on the ground, wild-eyed men and women who had fought and survived. They cheered the sylph who had led them to victory. They cheered because they were still alive.

  Used to this behavior, Zenepha smiled and nodded, pausing frequently to congratulate a soldier here, offer a kind word to a wounded man there and accept the many thumps on his shoulder from blooded and victorious troops.

  The small retinue halted as they reached the women who had thrown their weight against the enemy alongside the men. Marcus stared at Zandra. Belaika stared at Eleka.

  The scout moved first. He held his wife close and hugged her. "I am so proud of you," he whispered.

  Eleka smiled back and leaned her head forward until noses, foreheads and earpoints touched.

  Beside them, Marcus hugged Zandra.

  Eleka stood back and her face grew more concerned. "We lost scouts in the night," she said.

  Belaika's face fell. "How many? Who?"

  "Three," answered Zandra. "I haven't heard their names yet. Senakul, we're told."

  Belaika nodded. Markan scouts, only partly trained. That made the news no easier to bear; any scout caught in the siege could be in the wrong place at the wrong time. In more honest fighting, held in open country, scouts were almost always well out of the way of the really dangerous stuff. In a city, on exposed walls, there was nowhere to hide.

  The sky turned gray as night brightened to predawn, the Ark Star just visible overhead, glinting as it continued on its eternal voyage.

  Belaika stared at the gate and hissed a quick warning to his companions.

  Several mounted men were in the gateway. The scout recognized Kelanus immediately and the unpainted sylph with him was clearly Neptarik. Lance Captain Kestan, arguably one of Marka's best pieces of good fortune throughout the siege, stood to his right and Balnus to his left. Grayar and a southern woman he did not know were there, together with several other soldiers unknown to him. Not to mention sylphs he had not seen for some time, both wild and trained scouts.

  Behind, a tall dark-eyed man sat on his horse. He had never before laid eyes on him, but Belaika knew this must be the renowned Sallis ti Ath, the bounty hunter sent to track down and return the escaped Kelanus to Marka.

  They waited in the gateway, while Zenepha made his way to them. All dismounted as Zenepha halted. Captain Crallin stared at Kelanus and one hand stroked his sword. The escaped General opened his mouth to speak, but the Emperor stilled him with one raised hand. Belaika and Neptarik exchanged some silent communication.

  "Lance Captain Kestan," began Zenepha, quietly. "I commend you for your excellent work throughout the siege. A promotion is the smallest of our favors."

  "Thank you, Majesty."

  "Kelanus, former commander of Marcus Vintner's army," continued Zenepha, gravely. "Wanted in Marka on suspicion of murder."

  Kelanus made to speak, but Zenepha raised his hand again, stalling him.

  "We are certain that your timely arrival at the gates brought the end of the siege and doubtless minimized bloodshed. At the very least it has prevented our enemy from regrouping immediately before the gates. A pardon for you."

  Kelanus shook his head. "No."

  Everybody stared in shock.

  Zenepha recovered quickly. "As you wish."

  Kelanus's attent
ion turned away from the Emperor. "Lady Ilven." He inclined his head, staring at her as if unable to believe his eyes. "I was told ilven can detect lies."

  Djerana shrugged but said nothing.

  A small smile touched Kelanus's lips. "Perhaps I was told wrong. No matter." His attention returned to Zenepha. "With me is a messenger from the Trading Council of Cadister, Fraller, Shium and Duning. I'm certain you will be overjoyed with the news he brings."

  "Is that all you have to say to me?" Zenepha's quiet voice still carried.

  Kelanus's pale blue eyes narrowed. "I refuse your pardon for good reason. Criminals are pardoned for their crimes and if I accept your pardon, I admit to crimes I've not committed. I'm no criminal. I've returned to Marka to face my accuser, General Ranallic." He glanced quickly over his shoulder at Sallis ti Ath. "As we are both outlanders, I demand the right to trial by combat."

  Everybody except Kelanus and ti Ath stared in surprise.

  "A right not exercised for hundreds of years," murmured Olista, wonderingly.

  "Trial by combat." Zenepha sounded disappointed.

  "It is said that Si... ah, the Father... will help the one with truth on his side," continued Olista. "It only remained law as there seemed no need to repeal it."

  "The Father will not aid you," stated Djerana firmly.

  "Yet I still demand the right." Kelanus smiled at the ilven. "If Siranva will not help me, I will crush his cullions when we meet."

  Outrage flashed across Djerana's face, her green eyes aflame.

  There was a small stir as Ranallic appeared silently. "You would prove your innocence in combat?" He raised an eyebrow, his dark, slanted eyes puzzled even as they augured into Kelanus. A mocking tone entered his voice. "Sure you're up to it?"

  "I went to a village called Pensdren." Kelanus's bass voice dropped so low, all strained to hear it, the sylphs excepted. "There, I discovered that the dead do sometimes speak from the grave. Even murder victims named Ranallic Eydren."

  Those within earshot stared.

  Kelanus continued. "A man murdered by his apprentice, General Ranallic. Or should I say, Ellas Panir?" His voice rose slightly. "The apprentice who murdered his master because his taste had been discovered. 'Too pretty for masculinity', I believe is the phrase you use."

  Ranallic waved a dismissive hand. "Sounds an interesting traveler's story," he remarked in a bored tone. "Any evidence to back it up?"