Markan Empire

  Janin looked at Ryen and blinked. No need to say anything, so he remained silent.

  Ryen continued. "I know your owner has still not been found. I've been asked to compile a list and have no hesitation in recommending you, but you must be worried for Sandev." The sergeant was one of the few who knew the truth.

  "It is all right for me to go." Janin gave the sergeant an almost defiant stare. "I have not belonged to Sandev-ya long enough to have bonded. I worry about Caya, but there are others to look after her."

  Pleased, Ryen nodded. "Your name can go forward. You speak with Caya this evening and make sure that she'll be all right without you."

  He had obeyed, of course. Happy to see him go, Cayta had been rather warmer than expected with her hug and wish for him to return safely. He intended to do just that and half-wished he could sort out his feelings about Sandev's personal sylph.

  One day she made it clear she did not want to be his wife, and the next she hugged him warmly and said how much she would miss him. Though certainly friendlier toward him now than when they first met, he wished she would be more constant. One way or the other.

  Janin sat up with a small squeak as something poked him in the ribs. He looked into the laughing face of Loran, one of the female wild sylphs.

  "I thought scouts took pride in never being surprised," she said.

  Janin grinned back. He felt unsure of Loran, who had spent a lot of time with him since leaving Marka. Would every female sylph confuse him from now on?

  "I hope being outside a city does not frighten you," she continued. "Six days and not a sign of a town. Is the world larger than you imagined?"

  "This is no different from living rough in a city," he countered. "Sleeping outdoors and wearing little but paint. Except then I wore grime."

  "You will survive." Loran looked serious. "You are tougher than most of these city sylphs."

  Janin opened his mouth to protest, but the other sylph forestalled him.

  "I mean it," she insisted. "You could be a wild sylph."

  "I am a Markan sylph." Janin spoke cautiously. Loran had hinted several times that she wanted to keep him away from the city. Or that he should consider himself as something more.

  "You are tougher than many of the scouts from Calcan. The ones who belong to Marcus Vintner." She wrinkled her nose and her earpoints twitched. "The fully trained ones."

  Janin almost told her that only one Calcan scout belonged to Marcus, but perhaps wild sylphs could not tell the difference. Or would not.

  Loran's paint scheme was almost identical to his own. There were slight differences between them of course, but she had black slashes, the same as every other wild sylph. Older scouts scorned the black paint, claiming it unnecessary.

  But Loran wore no collar, the most important difference.

  All the wild sylphs here had been caught up in last year's events. Yet to find a new home, Janin suspected now they never would. All had pledged themselves to Kestan-ya, yet remained steadfastly independent from the other humans.

  And they were free.

  Loran's hand reached towards his leather collar but she snatched it away at the last moment. "Hepheta says you refuse to consider freedom."

  Hepheta openly championed the merits of freedom over slavery, unafraid to speak his mind. He had sparked the debate among most breeding sylphs who wore collars.

  "He is wrong," replied Janin. "I did consider it. And rejected it. As a beggar, freedom meant hunger and dirt."

  "Other sylphs are still to make up their minds," she said, though disappointment had flared in her eyes at his response.

  "That is their choice." Janin smiled. "Your freedom did not protect you from being snatched as a potential slave."

  Strangely, Loran showed no upset to be reminded of her brief captivity. She gave him an odd look, earpoints slanted forwards. Most wild sylphs recoiled in horror whenever someone raised that particular subject.

  "Not just city sylphs have this argument," she said, after a long pause.

  Janin's earpoints twitched. "Your infertiles argue too," he said. "We know, we have noticed their new jewelry."

  Loran reached toward Janin's collar and again she pulled back. "Some of us feel that it is... natural... for us to be like you."

  Janin tensed. Loran had not gone so far as to tie twine around her neck, as many of the wild infertiles had done. He had no idea this argument raged among the Free Tribe's breeders as well. Another thought came. He suspected the real reason why some wild sylphs were desperate for their collared cousins to demand freedom.

  "Some might ask for manumission," he admitted, "but not many."

  Ean-y-Felis, the scout who had first seen the caravan that held the wild sylphs prisoner, was one candidate.

  "You do not want it?" pressed Loran.

  "It brings problems. No."

  She looked relieved to hear him confirm it. "The others think we are strange."

  "Who are 'we'?"

  Loran shrugged. "Those who want a collar."

  Janin winced. "It depends on how we were raised. To me, being uncollared is strange; for you strange to wear one."

  "Can you try it?"

  Janin laughed and, after a moment, Loran laughed with him. "It is something," he said, "that you either are, or you are not."

  "Oh."

  The short silence lengthened. Janin glanced at Hepheta and the wild sylph bared his teeth in a smile.

  "You do not seem bothered that females have become scouts," said Loran.

  "Should I be?"

  Loran smiled again. "No, but many Markan scouts say it is wrong."

  "It is no stranger to have female sylph scouts than to have male sylph scouts. Most humans think it strange for any sylph to do this."

  "Might your owner want another sylph?" asked Loran, suddenly.

  "You must ask her," replied Janin. If they ever saw her again.

  Disappointment flared in Loran's silvery eyes again, but she stayed with him. Confusing.

  The army now passed through rich agricultural land. No longer deserted land, but a plateau with a couple of rivers meandering across it, perhaps pausing for breath before continuing a headlong dash to the distant ocean.

  Buildings clustered together and crops grew in fields closest to the river, with pasture and meadow beyond.

  "Many farms here," remarked Loran, in a chatty mood.

  "Some are still abandoned," replied Janin. He pointed to one without a roof.

  "Most are not."

  This was true. The regular patrols Zenepha insisted upon kept raiders and bandits away. Some repairs to farms and their buildings looked very recent. Other still derelict houses stood on land clearly tilled.

  People were coming home.

  "The land fills again," said Janin. "That is good."

  Livestock wandered without concern. Animals eyed the army curiously, but not with fear. That attitude might change quickly if the army ever got hungry.

  "Means less room for sylphs." Loran looked around in interest.

  "There is always room for sylphs."

  "The raiders are gone," said Loran.

  "Thanks to the extra patrols. We have passed three since leaving Marka."

  Loran giggled. "Those were patrols? The humans stared at us in awe."

  "Unused to sylph scouts," said Janin.

  If they knew those scouts had spotted them long before, their reaction might have been more fun to see.

  If nothing else, the patrols passed on some useful information. No Eldovans had been seen here.

  "The forest looks like a better place for us," said Loran.

  Janin twisted around. "More hiding places," he agreed. "But I suspect that forest is used to supply timber for building. Wild sylphs would be disturbed there often."

  He looked at the cultivated fields and saw that several crops were well on the way to ripeness. The soil truly must be rich.

  "There might be two crops this year."

  "So?"

  "Lo
ts of food to stock up Marka. These farmers will sell their crops."

  "The river will help," pointed out Loran. "Plenty of water is good."

  "We must cross this river." Janin scowled. "Higher up, where it gets narrower."

  "If you have never left Marka, how do you know it narrows?"

  Janin grinned. "Because humans talk and I listen."

  "What are those?" Loran pointed to a large building beside the river and a conical affair that stood alone, large wooden sails turning in a circle.

  "Mills," replied Janin. "The one beside the river is a watermill and the other a windmill. They grind corn to make flour and humans make bread from the flour."

  "Why do they dig stone out of the ground?" A nearby quarry now caught the wild sylph's attention.

  "To build or repair roads."

  Loran nodded.

  "People are here from all over," continued Janin. "Look how some buildings have thatch for a roof and others have tiles. They come to claim the land offered by Zenepha-ya."

  The road led directly into the forest and the fertile river plain was soon left behind. Janin shivered. Almost like they had crossed a border into unknown territory. As though they were trespassing.

  On the other hand, Loran visibly relaxed.

  Janin stiffened. A faint report, but quickly repeated. Loran looked at him.

  "Hepheta will pass it on," said Janin. He sat up straight and saw the assistant yeoman.

  Hepheta came closer and caught the assistant yeoman's attention.

  "Layavin," he called. "Message."

  "What is it, Hepheta?" asked Layavin.

  "Thirty soldiers wheeling around to our rear," reported the sylph.

  There was no more to the message, but Janin knew this suggested an attempted snatch at the back of the column. These men had waited under the cover of trees before making their move.

  The assistant yeoman rode ahead to Kelanus.

  Lancers peeled away from the main column and forced their horses through dense undergrowth. Shyamon ran with them, acting as messenger.

  Janin watched Hepheta. The wild sylph gave a small shrug, as if it did not matter that he had been forced to pass the message on. That he must condescend to speak to a human not involved in his rescue.

  The Father knew the wild sylphs were a touchy lot at the best of times and they all seemed to have a taboo about speaking to other humans. Only those who trained them, or were involved in their rescue. They ignored everybody else as far as possible.

  That had originally included the collared sylphs, but the wild ones' attitude had changed somewhat. Even Janin used to feel intimidated by their lack of communication. But now wild and collared sylphs chatted happily with each other, if not always comfortably.

  Perhaps the taboo was finally breaking down with regard to humans as well. And not before time, in Janin's humble opinion.

  His attention returned to his surroundings.

  Shyamon sent a pinger and Janin eavesdropped while Bascon sent a stream of questions from Kelanus. Probably wondering how this platoon had got so close undetected.

  Shyamon replied that the group had nothing to do with the enemy, but were guardsmen from Eman.

  Janin and Loran exchanged a look. This might have turned into an embarrassing and messy mistake. Somebody might be in a spot of trouble for not double-checking before sending the sighting report.

  Before long, the "enemy" came into sight. They paralleled the army, as its commander spurred on to the head of the column to converse with Kelanus and Kestan.

  The scout responsible for the erroneous report had not been recalled, so perhaps the correct procedure had been followed after all.

  Hepheta broke into Janin's thoughts.

  "You two staying there all day?" he asked.

  Janin grinned. "We might."

  "Get off it." Hepheta returned the smile. "Your turn to scout. Stay there too long, you will get unfit."

  ***

  Captains and lieutenants packed into Kelanus's tent; so many that one wall had to be lifted to accommodate them. The two infertiles there had just enough room to squeeze through and serve alovak. The one who gravitated more towards Kestan than anyone else wore no collar, and the other belonged to one of the camp followers.

  "Best to say that the guardsmen were unaware of our presence," said Kelanus. "We cannot have scouts frightened of punishment or they will not report. Nobody got hurt and the same scout quickly rectified his error."

  Kestan nodded agreement. "With so many part trained scouts, there are bound to be mistakes. But you have not called us here to talk about mistakes. You've not even told us the scout's name."

  "And will not."

  Apart from Kestan, who stood beside Kelanus, the officers were seated to face their commander. Kelanus saw more than one personal enemy, but also a few friends. Not even his enemies deserved the blame for his imminent actions.

  There were only two sylph scouts present: the senior scout Tynrasa-y-Fallon, and Shyamon-y-Pulista, who held sticks of sealing wax and a large candle.

  "Gentlemen, to the reason I called you here." Kelanus looked at the small assembly. "Everybody received his orders from the Emperor himself. Ostensibly, anyway. In a moment, I will show you a copy of a letter absolving you from blame or complicity in what we are about to do."

  A few mutters and raised eyebrows met his words.

  "When you have read the letter – all are identical – I will seal each one before you. Keep it with you at all times." Kelanus smiled. "It might save your life."

  "Dramatic," muttered an anonymous someone.

  Kelanus passed along the seats and handed out the letters. Thankfully, there were only fourteen officers, so he had not spent too many nights writing.

  The officers scanned the letter in disbelief. Surprise turned to incredulity as captains and lieutenants turned to each other, perhaps unsure every letter was an exact copy. Bar a smudge or two, the letters were identical, as Kelanus had said.

  "Now," continued Kelanus, "I will read the letter, which is for the benefit of that tiny minority of you unable to read – I know you won't admit to it, so I'll read it anyway."

  A small laugh met these words.

  Kelanus cleared his throat. "Your Majesty. Although your instructions are perfectly clear, I as commander of this Grand Army cannot agree that there is any threat to Trenvera, or those prefectures under your rule from the east. All talk and information of such a threat is, sire, intended as a distraction, to enable our enemies to fall on Marka from north and west.

  "For this reason, my decision is to keep the army together, first to engage and defeat our enemies to the north; then to wheel around and trap our enemies to the west. This decision is mine alone; my officers are not to share the blame for my failure, should I be wrong.

  "Majesty, I remain your humble subject... signed me."

  A long pause followed.

  "Why not just throw yourself off a cliff, General?" asked one captain, finally breaking the silence.

  "Complete disobedience of orders. Ax or rope for you when we return," chortled another, as he read the letter again.

  Other voices rose, proclaiming support for Kelanus's action, still more against.

  "This is treason."

  "I hope not cowardice?"

  "Orders are there to be obeyed, not amended at will."

  Kelanus raised his voice to be heard. "These letters are enough to save you if I'm wrong. Orders aren't worth dung if the facts don't support them. And the facts do not."

  "The facts do support the orders." This speaker was a young Markan lieutenant, clearly horrified. "If we decided to change a plan after it was given, there would be hell to pay."

  "It is our duty to remove an insane commander," said another.

  "I am not insane," said Kelanus.

  "You cannot change orders," protested another lieutenant.

  "Yes, you can," countered Kelanus. "Commanding officers are empowered to adapt any plan as circumstances s
uggest. As the senior officer, I'm doing just that." He barked a quick laugh. "If you find yourself the senior officer, my plan has gone seriously wrong."

  A guffaw met that one.

  "Do you say that Re Taura is not about to attack the eastern lands?" demanded another lieutenant. Once again, silence fell.

  "I tell you no such thing," replied Kelanus. "In fact, I expect Re Taura will launch an assault against Calcan, Sandester or Trenvera. Probably Trenvera. But I cannot say that in the letter. Neither Calcan nor Sandester is helpless and they do not need extra troops. Trenvera has maintained an armed neutrality and our army is unlikely to be welcome. They would get nervous with us just on their border."

  Several experienced heads nodded. Sandwiched between two warring factions, Trenvera had always been careful militarily and diplomatically. The presence of a Markan force on her border would make matters worse. Only the Markans in the tent failed to understand that.

  Kelanus continued. "Just in case, a detachment will go to the border of Trenvera. Which is why I insisted on so many scouts. Captain Tomane."

  "Sir." Tomane sat a little straighter.

  "You will take one hundred men and thirty scouts towards the border. Place the scouts so they can send messages to us. Open a dialogue with Trenveran officials. If they ask, and I stress ask, for our help, you can send the message along."

  "Very good, sir."

  "The rest of us will split, my force three milas further north from Lance General Kestan. With luck, Kestan will contact the Eldovans first and they will look no further. We will parallel the border with Metton, where we wheel west, wrap up whichever of Hingast's forces stand in our way, and sweep down the Western March to trap the second army."

  "What if Trenvera needs help?" asked Tomane, who had a nightmare vision of leading his hundred to annihilation.

  "We will know by then if they need any," replied Kelanus. "If they haven't needed help before we fly down the Western March, they won't."

  "How do you know Re Taura isn't acting in its own interests?"

  "We all act in our own interests." Kelanus gave a mirthless smile. "That is the way of the world. Re Taura probably hopes to snatch territory on the mainland while the Eldovans grab Marka. But I doubt if the Re Taurans can hold that land while Marka remains free. Perhaps they want a new treaty regarding trade in the Bay of Plenty. However you want to look at it, if we lose lands to the east, we can recapture them; if we lose Marka to the Eldovans, the game is over."

  The stunned officers considered Kelanus's words in silence. The two infertiles continued to offer alovak. More than one man accepted that offer.