Markan Empire

  She glanced out of the window, where the laundry lines all came together. It was a large window, designed to accommodate the laundry bags.

  She looked at, but could not see, the inner curtain wall of Castle Beren, nor could she properly see the yard below. Thanks to the number of light crystals in the laundry, all emitting their harsh glow, outside appeared even darker. She moved closer to the window for a better view of the yard and her thoughts turned, as always when she had a quiet moment, to her now-dead owner, Talnan.

  She thought she might never get past tears, not that she could weep openly for him. She must tough it out here until Neptarik asked to be released from service, as he said he would, or rescue came.

  She doubted if rescue would come; they probably assumed in Trenvera that she had been caught and murdered at the same time as her late owner.

  Talnan had come to Castle Beren to spy and discover the Mametain's intentions toward his homeland. Mya had some of that information, but nobody to share it with. She had no idea where Neptarik would take her, but he was better than nothing.

  She couldn't just run away. Being a sylph, she would not get far before an inevitable arrest as a suspected runaway, her official owner traced, and a swift return.

  Talnan had been tortured before Tektu killed him; Mya did not know what he had told them. Or, as importantly, what he had not.

  She knew – how she wished she did not! – that nobody could resist torture indefinitely. The interrogators always discovered what they wanted to learn; sadly they also discovered what they wanted to hear.

  But had Talnan compromised his sylph? She might still be safe. Though fear of discovery pervaded every waking moment, months had passed and she had been left alone. Perhaps she was still safe.

  Or did Tektu wait for the right moment?

  Mya stiffened. What was happening now? Shouted orders echoed around the castle yard. Was that rumbling the drawbridge? That had never been closed in her time here. Her suspicion was confirmed when she heard it bang against the wall and the giant bolts drop into place. She imagined she felt the castle shake as it did.

  More shouting, and booted feet pounded across the castle yard. The garrison was awake and locking the castle down. They didn't do that for fun either, and not at this time of night. It must mean another spy. Mya stayed put, listening and watching.

  The garrison soldiers lined up. Below, the door to the sylphs' tower banged open and she heard guards on the stair. So, a general muster.

  But in this tower? Did they suspect a sylph? Her heart picked up pace. So long as they didn't suspect this sylph.

  She stared as one of the laundry lines began to vibrate. Who in the Father's name played with laundry at this time of night, while panic gripped the garrison?

  Voices, outside.

  "Only two unaccounted for. Eight missing, but six are with the Mametain's family."

  "Search the tower. Top to bottom."

  This last came from Tektu and Mya fought sudden terror. She rested a hand on the laundry line and felt it vibrate again. The line from above the gatehouse which served the garrison.

  She returned to the window. Something definitely moved up there. Then the laundry bag began to slide along the rope line. Only it was somehow the wrong shape...

  The bag arrived seconds later, the stops on the rope slowing and halting its progress. From where he had clung to the bag, a sylph dropped onto the floor.

  Mya's mouth fell open. This was the spy?

  "Quick," panted Neptarik, "we must hide!"

  Mya took in the other sylph's disheveled appearance: dripping wet from eartip to toe, smears of blue blood on his lower arms and hands. At the same time the door to the corridor was opening. She pulled Neptarik across the room and threw him into the nearest bath, following him into the water. She twined around him, kissing and hugging him. Cool air swept into the laundry and laughter came from the doorway.

  "What have we here? A lovers' tryst?"

  Mya feigned surprise and Neptarik's earpoints twitched bolt upright in embarrassment as the two sylphs sat up in the bath.

  The soldiers smirked and watched the sylphs clamber out. Tektu came in almost on their heels.

  "Found the missing two." The men chortled.

  Tektu glanced at the bath, then the hapless sylphs. "Bathing in your clothes?" Her mouth turned almost into a sneer as she watched puddles of bathwater form around their feet. She shook her head. "Well, you decided to ignore my warnings. Fraternization is frowned upon. Neptarik, you have not been here long; Mya, you should know better."

  "Sorry." Mya hung her head, but Neptarik said nothing.

  Tektu leaned across the bath and flipped the plug. She watched as the water drained away. "To your dormitories, both of you."

  "Se bata."

  The chastened sylphs hurried away.

  "Well," said the same guard who had spoken earlier. "Everyone accounted for." He turned to leave.

  Tektu nodded, but paid the soldier no attention. Her earpoints twitched and slanted forward as the last of the water drained from the bath in a sucking, gurgling squelch. She flung out a hand. "Wait!"

  The soldier gave the sylph an odd look, but complied.

  "Look in here and tell me what you see."

  The man glanced inside. "Dirt. What about it?"

  "Soil maybe? Certainly not the kind of dirt you expect from bedding." Tektu did not even bother to look at it.

  The soldier shrugged. "Maybe they've been playing in the garden too. With respect, but sylphs have some –"

  "Look at that weed," continued Tektu, conversationally. "Only one place here where that grows."

  More used to soldiering than horticulture, the guard shrugged. "No idea."

  Tektu's gaze augured the hapless man and she only just kept exasperation from her voice.

  "It is found in the moat," she said.

  "So?"

  "One of those two has been in the moat. Recently." She pulled at her lip. "Go back to bed; you are still half-asleep."

  The soldier bowed, and left.

  Tektu glanced at the small pieces of weed, mind whirling. Both Neptarik and Mya were fairly recent starters, Neptarik the newest of the pair. Of the two, the male sylph appeared more athletic, but Tektu knew appearances could be deceptive. Mya might have it in her, too.

  She pulled at her lip again.

  And remembered Talnan.

  A spy from the mainland.

  Both Neptarik and Mya had mainland accents. Nothing odd in itself; lots of mainlanders came to the islands to escape the turmoil engulfing the continent. It had happened for centuries. And they brought their sylphs with them.

  But Castle Beren had been plagued by spies.

  One had fallen into the moat tonight.

  Bits of weed found only in the moat were here. The conclusion was inescapable. One of those sylphs must be the spy she had seen fall. A sylph?

  Tektu shook her head, finding it hard to believe that sylphs had such talents.

  Talnan. A spy from Trenvera, who had started at Castle Beren the same time as a cartload of sylphs. Only three of those sylphs were still here as the rest had opted to leave the Mametain's service.

  Two were Re Taurans.

  The third Mya.

  Both Mya and Neptarik must be interrogated, but she would bring the female in first. She might be the easiest of the pair to crack.

  Tektu would have answers.

  ***

  Chapter 29

  Old Enemies

  Fared knew the sylph scouts had heard something new when Belaika's earpoints shot upright and then twitched with barely suppressed excitement. Moments later Samel came directly to him.

  "Message from Fhionnen, donenya," said the newcomer.

  Fared glanced at Belaika who fidgeted with the Vintner Banner, while his ears suggested he was listening to the conversation as well.

  "Yes, Samel?"

  "Fhionnen has contacted Jeldren, lead scout for an army coming west out of Marka," sa
id Samel. "The commander is Commandant Treylfor and he has almost eight thousand men. His sylphs are also in contact with General Kelanus." Samel's earpoints gave a contented twitch.

  Fared smiled. "Have you told Fhionnen to pass on our details?" he asked.

  "No need." Samel looked surprised. "That is already done, donenya."

  "Then tell him not to make contact with Mirrin. If Mirrin starts to hear more scouts whistling, he'll know another army has caught him."

  Samel gave Fared a slow blink. "That is already done also, donenya," he said.

  From the banner, Belaika laughed. "You still have a lot to learn about us, Fared-ya," said the sylph. "A lot."

  ***

  "Kelanus-ya!"

  The general's fork paused briefly before he closed his mouth around the meat. He gestured towards Bascon with the now-empty fork.

  "Speak," he said, voice muffled by the food.

  As Shyamon was out in the field, Kelanus had collected his own meal. Such small hardships were no problem. Thanks to the short stop, his tent had not been set up, so he had to make do with a crate for a table. At least it wasn't raining.

  "Eldovan scouts in the forest," reported Bascon. "Too far away from Kestan-ya to be looking for him."

  Kelanus smiled. "They're looking for me."

  Though it wasn't a question, Bascon nodded. "Or a way past Kestan without engaging," added the scout.

  Kelanus's smile widened. Trust a sylph to understand already. He almost asked for his yeoman, but Bascon continued.

  "General Mirrin's contingent has moved into range," he said. "Tynrasa passed it on from Kestan. They are south. Nine and a half thousand men."

  "How far?" asked Kelanus.

  "Far enough not to trouble us for several days." Bascon stared briefly into Kelanus's eyes, before the sylph's gaze flickered aside. "Six, perhaps five if they push."

  "And Treylfor?"

  "Should meet Mirrin tomorrow. And they have made contact with Dekran-ya's detachment."

  "And?"

  Bascon's earpoints wilted. "Eight survivors, plus the five scouts. Lance Sergeant Toman is the senior."

  Kelanus grimaced and felt a pang of sadness. Dekran had been a promising officer and he had taken many good men to their doom. He looked again at Bascon. "You have more?"

  The scout nodded. "A force of three hundred light cavalry saved the survivors from being wiped out," he continued. "Shadow Riders. They seem willing to fight Mirrin."

  "Hmm." Kelanus thought for a moment. "Tell Treylfor to be careful with these strangers."

  "We already have," said Bascon.

  "Good initiative." Kelanus nodded in appreciation. "Send Hanmer to me, please."

  "Se bata."

  Hanmer joined him in moments, which suggested the yeoman already knew what was going on. Bascon returned with him, in case of any more messages.

  "You have heard?" Kelanus raised an eyebrow.

  Hanmer almost denied it, then grinned. "Yessir." He glanced at Bascon, who shrugged.

  "Saves me from having to explain."

  Kelanus gave Bascon a quick look and the sylph's earpoints wilted before he inspected the ground at his feet.

  "First things first," continued Kelanus. "The Eldovans have either sussed out how I think, and are looking for me, or they want to avoid Kestan. We need a diversion: a handful of men to let our enemy think they've found all of us."

  "The Eldovans know we are here, sir?"

  "No, but I suspect they're looking for someone other than Kestan. Give them something to report. Kill one or two and let the others escape."

  "And the rest of it, sir?"

  "Mirrin's too far away to affect us," replied Kelanus. "Unless the battle here drags out. Concentrate on those scouts. Oh, and prepare the rockets: we'll be needing them soon."

  "Very good, sir."

  Yeoman and sylph turned to leave.

  "Not you, Bascon."

  Yeoman and sylph exchanged a quick look before Hanmer ducked away to obey his orders. Bascon looked resentful.

  Kelanus held out his used plate and cutlery. "As Shyamon isn't here, take these back to the scullions please, there's a good lad."

  Bascon gave the dirty crockery in his hands a slow blink and his earpoints twitched.

  "Thank you, Bascon."

  Kelanus resisted an urge to laugh as the scout left. That should be sufficient punishment for giving the message to the yeoman first.

  He sat on the crate. So the Eldovans had finally pulled General Mirrin forward. Three generals against three, assuming Treylfor reached the scene in time. This should be very interesting. A fitting climax to his career, perhaps.

  ***

  Lance General Kestan listened to his scouts' reports. Tynrasa had discovered Eldovan scouts further afield than expected, but Kestan would leave them to Kelanus.

  Those enemy scouts troubled Kestan. Somebody in the Eldovan camp had definitely done some homework, and learned from prior mistakes. Kelanus was using the same tactics he had last used on Candin Plain and the Eldovans could not possibly be aware of those.

  Yet someone had realized the same tactics were being used again.

  That, or the Eldovans were trying to avoid contact. But why?

  Tilipha had already survived one battle and looked terrified at the prospect of another. His leader's stirrup was perhaps not the safest place for a peacable sylph, but he made no complaint and never suggested another might like to take his turn in the danger area.

  Overcoming fear was always the hallmark of courage.

  Kestan knew his orders were intended to confuse the enemy. Split his army, give the appearance that flanking attacks were already set up, and deflect all attention away from Kelanus.

  He hoped to have the battle done tomorrow.

  Take punishment, break off the engagement, regroup and attack again. Kestan was used to fighting a numerically superior enemy and, this time, he would be the bait.

  Time now for courage.

  ***

  The man who now called himself Hingast looked around the table at his senior commanders and the man allegedly his advisor.

  Marshal Janost, a skilled and experienced warrior, hair gray now, but deep blue eyes as piercing as ever. General Hanan, cold, pale blue eyes and graying hair, but still slim, unlike his rather more portly superior.

  And Dervra, the supposed advisor. The man who called himself Hingast knew rather more about him than Dervra would like, but it was too late to do anything about that now. Dervra's eyes were the same color as Janost's, but his hair was a darker gray.

  "We can crush the Markans easily," insisted Marshal Janost. "They only have half our numbers."

  General Hanan nodded agreement. "We do not know if the Re Taurans will ever sail," he said. "No need to wait for them and hand our enemies the advantage."

  The man who called himself Hingast nodded towards his advisor. "Dervra is taking me to meet Re Taura's Mametain once we're done here. We will know before nightfall when they will sail; the crossing to Trenvera only takes two days."

  Hanan shrugged, pale blue eyes expressionless. "We do not know whether Kelanus has taken the Re Taura bait," he countered. "We should sort out the Markans who are in front of us."

  The man who called himself Hingast gestured. "Out there somewhere is the military genius of our time," he said. "He wants us to take on the people in front of us. Kelanus wants to finish us before he turns east to aid Trenvera. Push the scouts further afield and try to find a way through without fighting."

  Both Janost and Hanan wore surprised expressions.

  "I suspect Kelanus is already in Trenvera," said Janost. "We fear phantoms."

  The man who called himself Hingast wished he had sylph scouts. When this was over, he would remedy the lack. Eldova had no sylph scouts. He sighed. "We cannot make the assumption that the force before us is all the Markans we face. Branad made exactly this mistake last year."

  Once again, the two military commanders raised eyebrows in unison
. The man who called himself Hingast knew they were unused to their monarch displaying so much tactical knowledge. Not to mention tolerating their dissent. Wisely, they chose to ignore their observations.

  Dervra gave a quiet cough to catch their attention. "If the men ahead are all that we face, then we can justify the risk of sending the scouts further. But should they discover more men, then avoiding battle is the wisest option."

  Janost shrugged. "Do the Markans have this many men?"

  The man who called himself Hingast came to Dervra's rescue. "Markans, Calcans, Sandesterans, the Trading Council... A good few thousand men are wandering about out there. And commanded by able men who know what they're doing."

  "We should call Mirrin north," suggested Janost.

  "Mirrin will punch east to Marka, as already instructed." Hingast's gray-blue eyes were determined. "Once Kelanus learns from his sylphs that Re Taurans really have landed in Trenvera, he will turn east as he was commanded to do. Then, both Marches will be free for us."

  "You seem to know exactly how Kelanus will react." Janost glanced quickly at the man who called himself Hingast and away again.

  "Always learn what you can of your enemies," said Dervra.

  Hanan nodded thoughtfully. "Kelanus – if he's here – may refuse the bait even so. Or stand and fight before turning east. My understanding of the man is that he is hardly predictable."

  "All men are predictable once you know them." Dervra's voice was soft.

  Neither Janost nor Hanan looked convinced.

  "Not sure how you got to know Kelanus," said Hanan, his expression daring his monarch to contradict him. "Sure, he arrived in time to trap our men against Marka's walls, but in truth they were already broken."

  By women, reflected the man who called himself Hingast. "I did not say I learned about him through personal experience."

  The guard's voice interrupted from outside.

  "Messenger, Majesty!"

  "Send him in," commanded the man who called himself Hingast.

  Helmet tucked under one arm, the dusty messenger entered and stood stiffly, eyes focused on a patch of canvas.

  "Speak freely," said Hingast.

  The messenger inclined his head. "Majesty, sirs. The only Markans we can find are the five thousand in front of us. They have divided: half are camped in front of us and the rest have set up two flanking camps. The only way to avoid them is to turn around."

  "Thank you."

  The messenger bowed and left.

  The man who called himself Hingast turned to his commanders. "Our choice is to turn around, or take on the enemy."