My main use of the militia was as a source of recruits. Every season a few of them would come to me shyly and ask if I needed armigers. If they had strong shoulders and could ride I would make sure they could be spared from their homes. Then I would usually start them as grooms or scouts and begin their training. After a year or so if I felt they had earned a horse and weapons I would take their oath. In this way over five years I had raised three more pennons. The whole ala had three halves—one usually at Magor, one usually at Derwen, and one usually at Dun Morr.
The land could support them. Derwen was thriving. The harvests were good and there were plenty of foals. Trade had increased as well; we could sell as much linen and linenpaper as we could make, and we made more every year. We were making enough iron and smithgoods at Nant Gefalion to sell those too. In return we got tin and lead and silver from Munew, books and grain from Segantia, Jarnish beer from Cennet, dyes and mordants from Aylsfa, leather goods from Tevin, apples and cider from Tathal, gold and roofing slate from Wenlad. We even had traders coming with salt from Nene, honey and blown glass from Tinala, fleeces from Bregheda and Demedia, and worked wooden goods from Bereich. We had ships come often from Tir Isarnagiri and from Narlahena, and even sometimes from Varnia, though most of our Varnian goods came to us through Munew and Segantia. These days what my mother called Imperial goods were mostly books, wine, spices, and preserved fruits. We bought little oil now, as we had linen-seed oil in sufficient quantity for our own use.
People who had been driven out of the eastern lands by the Jarns had come to us and settled, bringing their skills and increasing everyone’s comfort. We did not need to bring in pottery and iron as we had before, we had our own. The single potter my mother had enticed to the town fifteen years before was now one among a whole street of potters. One of them made nothing but tiles for roofs and floors, and insisted on being called a tiler, not a potter. If a farmer broke the one pottery cup they kept for blessings it was a shame but not a disaster for them, it could be mended or replaced. There were shops in town all the time, workshops which sold their goods; a candlemaker and a tinsmith and a cobbler. We held a market four times a year, not all that much smaller than the ones at Caer Tanaga.
All these enterprises throve within the town itself, which consequently grew all the time and was beginning to press on the walls my father had so wisely built wider than they were needed. This last year I had moved the press for crushing the oil from the linen seeds a little way upriver from the town, with a waterwheel of its own. This kept the waterwheel above the docks free for grinding corn and sawing wood. All the retting of the flax was done upstream as well, beyond the walls. This dirtied the river of course. I had been considering a plan Glividen had suggested of building an aqueduct to bring clean water into the town from the stream in the woods. It would make it much easier to water the horses than using wells and troughs. But until now this had seemed the worst of having that work out there. I had not thought about needing to defend it. This was Urdo’s Peace; no raider would land near a town so well defended. Now I fretted about it. My father had meant the walls to hold all the local farmers if necessary, as they had when the Isarnagans attacked. Now, if we had to take in the people, there would be no room for them inside unless we crowded them into our hall, and maybe not then.
Everywhere I went, people wanted to ask questions. Mostly I could not answer them. First thing that morning I had sent Hiveth’s pennon to Nant Gefalion, and to warn the people of the countryside on the way. My plan was to gather the militia and wait for the rest of the ala to come up from Dun Morr. Then I would leave the militia with one pennon under Duncan’s command to defend the town if necessary, and take the rest, amounting to seven pennons, to Magor to try to prevent Marchel from landing. I had sent scouts out down the coast at first light.
All the way along the coast between Derwen and Magor there are shingle and sand bays where a ship can be half-beached safely enough to disembark people through the surf. But Marchel was bringing horses, which can scramble ashore well enough but cannot climb cliffs. I could only think of half a dozen places she could unload them. Magor was not near enough to the water to have docks inside the walls the way we did at Derwen. She could unload them at Aberhavren and bring them down the high road, but I thought she would be more likely to bring them to shore somewhere quieter, and plan a day or so for the horses to recover before they would be seen. They were bound to be half sick and weary from the journey. It was eight hundred miles straight across the open sea from Narlahena, or so the Malmish merchants delighted in telling me whenever I tried to haggle with them. It wasn’t like taking animals across a river or even the fifty miles from Tapit Point to Tir Isarnagiri. I hoped to prevent her from having that time, to catch her as soon as she landed and make her fight before she was ready.
Govien and his three pennons arrived in the late afternoon, when I was out in the yard talking to Nodol Boar-beard about supplies. To my surprise, Lew arrived with them. My first thought was that he had come to escort Emer home, and to claim Conal’s body. I went up to greet him and helped him dismount.
“Greetings, and welcome to Derwen, Lew ap Ross,” I said when he was down, bowing. He bowed back, looking as plump and self-important as ever. He still had the ridiculous long mustache. I wished he hadn’t come to waste my time. I was already looking around for Veniva to take him off my hands and take him into the hall for the welcome cup so I could talk to Govien.
“Lord Sulien,” he said as he straightened. “I came as soon as I had the news. I have left ap Ranien to gather my forces. They will leave tomorrow and come as fast as warriors may come on their own feet. I thought I would take advantage of the horses and come more swiftly to let you know what strength you can expect. Ap Ranien will bring four thousand fighters, armed with spears and shields, and fifty of my household warriors, armed with swords as well.”
I gaped at him. It had never occurred to me to ask Lew to call up his people, nor that if I had he might have obeyed. He was sworn to me and to Urdo, and he did have that fighting strength, but he was a king and an ally. Before I had ever met him, Emer had told me Lew was an old fool and strongly implied that he was a coward. I had never seen anything of him to contradict this impression, until now. He was fat and he fussed, and he consulted his advisors frequently and at length. But he was neither fool nor coward, and when he had to act he did. He could have stayed quite safely in Dun Morr and let the half ala come to me. Indeed, he need not have stirred out of his fortress at any time. The rebels would most likely have left him alone. Instead he had stripped his own land of troops to come to my aid, and I had not even asked him to. “I am overwhelmed,” I said. “I don’t know what to say. I had not expected such great help.” I wondered if he even knew who we would be fighting. I wondered how I was going to feed four thousand extra infantry. “This is an act of honor which will be remembered with your name forever.”
Lew bowed again at that, looking terribly pleased. “It is no more than I have sworn to do,” he said.
“I hope you have left enough defenders for your own home,” I said, as the thought struck me.
“There are enough people there to man the walls. My daughter and heir is in charge, with three of my most experienced counselors to help her. I will defend Derwen or go where you want me.”
I suddenly remembered Demedia, invaded from Oriel as Angas was busily invading Bereich. If Lew were left in charge he could take Derwen while I was away. Trusting good faith could be taken too far. I wished I really knew why Lew had stripped his country of troops. “We should make sure to leave enough people to defend our homes,” I said. His daughter and heir was only eleven years old. “Come with me.” I gestured to Nodol to accompany us. “I will call your wife and my decurios and we will have a council of war.”
In the end I waited another day to see ap Ranien’s army arrive, and yet another to see them safely leave again in the direction of Magor. My militia were raised and ready by then. I sent some of the
m west to Dun Morr and left most of them to defend Derwen. I left Lew in charge of them, Veniva in charge of the town, and Emlin in charge of the pennon I left there and general defense. I had Emer make it clear to Lew that he would take general military orders from Emlin while I was away. She could put it diplomatically, as I could not. Emlin was capable of conducting the defense and of dealing tactfully with Lew; none of my other decurios were. I wished I had two of him. I tried to squelch that thought before I caught myself wishing for all my friends, living and dead. Among that list, even though I knew perfectly well that if he had been there I’d have been cursing him for making my life difficult, I wished Conal was there to offer suggestions. I also wished most strongly and just as vainly that Emer and Duncan would be content to stay behind.
Emer insisted that she wanted to fight and that her place was at the front. I don’t know what arguments she used on Lew; the ones she gave me were senseless and plainly amounted to the fact that she wanted to be doing something because Conal was dead. I had some sympathy for not wanting to sit and wait, but I couldn’t see what getting herself killed would help. I could and did prevent her from riding with the ala—she was not trained and would be a liability. As Lew gave her permission, I could not stop her riding with ap Ranien’s army, which had a few mounted scouts.
Duncan was even more of a problem. I had meant to leave the militia in his hands and take Lew to Magor where I could keep an eye on him. But at the war council, after Lew had revealed that he had heard disquieting hints of the rebellion already and I had made my dispositions, Duncan begged leave to ride to Magor. He sat stiffly, rubbing his thumbs together and avoiding my mother’s eyes.
“But your duty is here,” I said impatiently.
He stood up, bowed, and stared straight over my seated head. “If I have ever done anything to deserve the gratitude of the Lords of Derwen, then let me ride with you,” he said. I could not refuse a request phrased like that. But it left a gap in my arrangements. Riding to battle, Duncan was just another armiger; with infantry he was a reliable commander. I bit my lip and left Lew in charge of my people, where he could do little harm even if he intended any. His own people, under ap Ranien, were following me east. But I rode off heavy-hearted. I had wasted two days, I was going with uncertain allies against friends turned enemies, and I wondered how many others were riding with me seeking death.
I was still in a bad mood when we stopped for our noon rest and food. Ap Madog came and sat by me as I was eating some good cheese Garah’s mother had made. “I was thinking,” he began.
I bit my tongue and managed not to commend him for the strenuous mental activity. “Yes?” I asked, as encouragingly as I could. It can’t have been very encouragingly, he gave me a nervous glance.
“About supply,” he said. “I know Nodol’s performed miracles getting us ready to go out so soon, and I know where the caches are and what I was thinking is that they’re the same caches we’ve been using all this time.”
“Yes?” I said again, not following him. A pigeon whirred out of the trees and I stared at it blankly as it disappeared back into them. Then suddenly I saw what he meant. “Yes,” I said, in an entirely different tone. “And Marchel commanded the ala here before Galba, didn’t she, so she will know them too.”
Ap Madog jerked up his chin in doleful agreement. “I was hoping you’d thought of something,” he said.
“It was very good thinking on your part,” I said. “I’ll write to Nodol and tell him, and tell Lew to set some of our militia to guard them.”
“Why can’t he use them to move them?” ap Madog asked. “Guarding on foot against mounted enemies is really tough.”
“I know, but if he moves them we won’t know where they are either. Think why we make the caches, think how easily we can find them? What’s the first assignment a new armiger gets, eh? Nodol could move them and he could send me a map of where they are, but could everyone who might need them find them from that? Supplies you can’t find might as well be on the moon.”
“Right.” Ap Madog looked downcast. “The other thing I was thinking—are we planning to attack Magor itself? Because my wife’s parents are there and—”
“We will do what is necessary, but I’m very much aware that many of the ala have family in Magor,” I said. “They’re unlikely to walk onto a battlefield by mistake though. Don’t worry.”
Just then I saw a scout hurrying toward me. I stood up so he could see me better. “They’ve landed,” he blurted. “We found signs. They’ve headed inland for Magor.”
“How many?” I asked.
The scout frowned. “It’s hard to tell. A lot. I’d say a whole ala at least, maybe more. A lot of horses, four or five hundred, but they were being led, not ridden, so I can’t guess how many are spares. There were a lot of people as well.”
“Most importantly, when?” I asked urgently.
“This morning very early, when the tide was high.”
“Then we might still catch them and cut them off before they reach Magor,” I said. I gave orders to remount and we set off at once.
We pushed on as rapidly as we dared and came to Magor in the late afternoon. I was riding toward the rear of the column as we came out of the woods. The track is quite wide there, with ditches separating it from the fields on either side. In that season they held standing barley, nearly ripe. There was a shout from the first rank as they came out of the trees and caught sight of Magor. Marchel had reached it before us; there was a column of horse going in through the main gates in the wall Duke Galba had built. We were in column and the first pennon took off at a canter down the track toward them. I signaled to Berth to sound the attack, though it was almost unnecessary. Everyone knew what to do. Only the first pennon could engage now, the rest of us rode behind in support. It was all we could do without trampling the barley and risking our horses’ necks on the unseen and uneven ground.
The main body of them kept on filing inside Magor as we approached. Our front ranks had their lances lowered. I signaled to the decurios to spread out by pennons and attack on their own initiative. Berth relayed the orders. Everyone behind readied their weapons and prepared to spread out when there was an opportunity. We thundered nearer. Evenstar put back her head and neighed as she scented them.
They were mounting and forming up with admirable speed. Two pennons came toward us rapidly. As they came nearer I could see that they were all Malms, pale-skinned, long-nosed, and dark-eyed. They could all have been Thurrig’s children. They were armed much as we were but wore fighter armor. They had charge and rally banners like ours and they were clearly organized the same way we were. Their horses were much smaller than ours, but real horses, not ponies like the ones Sweyn’s horsemen had used. They seemed all gray or dappled or black, with not a brown hair among them. They were tall, but not as tall as greathorses. The tallest were perhaps a hand’s width shorter, and most were two or three hands smaller. They were much more delicately built, nothing like as broad or strong. They were fast enough, as we saw when they charged toward us. The Malms were shouting and howling as they came. It took me a moment to realize that it was not “Glory and Death!” they were shouting but “The Glory of God!” I could feel Evenstar speed up of her own accord, although we were nowhere near them. I saw the impact when the two lines met.
They could not stand before us. They must have known that when they came out. There were two pennons of them against a whole ala, even though we could not spread out, and their additional speed could not make up for our strength. They fought like fiends, aiming for our horses. If they had been slower, or if we had not been confined to the narrow track, we would have killed them all almost at once. As it was, they were fighting to buy time to get their friends to safety, and they did that, at the cost of their own lives. They probably did better against us than they should have. They had been practicing, and fighting against people on horseback was still strange to us. I wanted to come up to them and fight. There was just no room. It was o
ne of the most frustrating skirmishes of my life.
Eventually they broke and we surrounded them. I signaled to Cadarn to wait in case they broke for the walls, and went closer myself. They were still fighting, though they could not maneuver. Then the last of their friends passed inside and the gates of Magor closed firmly behind them. A trumpet blast came from the walls, and the Malms who were still outside cheered to hear it and fought harder, if anything. Not one of them surrendered; we had to kill them all.
I stared at Magor, firmly in the hands of the enemy. The stables and the barracks, clearly visible as their walls formed part of the outer wall, had been ours only two days ago. I knew it all so well. It felt wrong for it to be against us. Duke Galba would have cried to see his hard work in building the walls abused like that. There was nothing for it but a siege, and I knew how well supplied they were. I had made sure of the supplies myself. I realized I was grinding my teeth loudly, and stopped.
I set Cadarn and ap Madog’s pennons, who had been in the rear, to watch the town, and the rest of us retreated to the edge of the woods, patched up our wounded as best we could, and gathered up our dead. There were plenty of wounded; I saw that everything was in hand, and checked to see if anyone needed my help singing charms. One or two of them did, so I saw to that. Then I turned to Govien for the death tally. There had been time.