It was a glorious moment pounding down toward them. It seemed as if it was going to be like the charges we made in the war, until we were nearly there. Then it was clear that they were mounted and mobile, and they could also wheel about and charge. They were faster than I had thought, even after seeing them fight before. And then we were among them and there was no time for thought, only for attack and evasion and blood and death. Evenstar shouldered the lighter horses hard, though they tried to duck and dodge away. That left me dealing with the riders. We were not used to fighting mounted opponents, and they were not used to fighting against people riding horses larger and stronger than theirs. I tried to take as much advantage of that as I could.
I fought with the spear until it was dragged from my hands by a falling armiger. Then I drew my sword, the sword I had owned so long it felt almost like an extension of my arm, except that I never forgot it had belonged to my brother Darien. It was the sword that had killed Morwen and many another enemy. I took an instant to brandish the sword toward the light of the setting sun and dedicate the slain to the Lord of Light. Then Evenstar reared and kicked out at one of the Malmish horses and I was back in the endless moment of battle, and there was nothing but the press and my companions and the enemy.
I did not direct that battle well. I did not know how to direct a battle against cavalry. I had plans, and I gave orders, but once we were engaged we fought by pennons, rushing in if they seemed to be forming up. The Isarnagans kept her away from the walls of Magor and the ala stayed between her and the highroad. As soon as she was committed I signaled for all the Isarnagans, those who had been picking turnips and all the ones from the camp. They poured around the walls and blocked her from retreat. They kept their spears up and used their slingstones to devastating effect. This forced her away from the walls and out onto the uneven ground. I glanced around now and then to make sure they were staying where they should be, and they were, their raven banners catching the breeze. People on the walls were throwing things down onto the nearest and some of them had their shields up. I had a glimpse of Aurien once, standing on the wall by the gate above them, bareheaded. I looked away quickly. I did not want to see her. The Malms who were trying to kill me were strangers.
It was a long, hard fight. We kept on fighting, rallying, holding, and drawing back until we were all exhausted and our horses were foaming at the mouth. Even I could hardly spare a thought to the wider strategy. We were starting to get the upper hand, and with the Isarnagans between Marchel and the walls, in theory we could change horses and they could not. But the Malms kept pressing on, preventing us from disengaging. At last I saw Marchel across the battle-field. She looked angry and was fighting furiously, engaged with Cynrig. As I watched she got in a cut on his arm and then a rush by his pennon forced them apart. I rallied my pennon and tried to find a way toward her across the field. We were facing due east by this time; the whole battle had twisted around. I was about to sound the advance when I saw sunlight flashing on something up the road toward Aberhavren. I held the advance for a moment, thinking it might be a messenger from ap Madog.
Then I saw them thundering toward me, and tears came into my eyes. It was my ala, Urdo’s Own Ala, coming in perfect order and as fresh-looking as if they had just left their barracks in Caer Tanaga. They were in a spearhead formation, aiming to split the Malms. They were flying all their banners, and in the center were the great purple banner I had carried at Foreth and Urdo’s gold running horse on white and green. Then they were closer, wheeling to their own signals, one half ready to take Marchel from each side. She must have known they were there, for there were trumpet calls, but she just kept on giving her own signals and rallying her pennons to her. I brought my pennon into another advance then, thinking she was coming toward me.
As we went forward I saw the first pennon of Urdo’s Own Ala charging to the fray. Close to the front of the charge, with the gold signifer’s banner set in his saddle-cup, was my son Darien, riding a golden summerhorse. He was full-grown now, twenty years old, in the prime of his youth. He had his sword in his hand. He was smiling, and he reminded me of a monk so far gone in worship he was barely aware of the world around him. There was a strange light in his sea gray eyes. Then he hit and he began fighting calmly with an assurance I had never seen in him. He made it seem like a holy thing. I did not know if what I felt was pride or envy. He looked like a joyful young god in the morning of the world. I had to look away from him then to block a blow coming from my left which jarred my arm hard so that I almost dropped my shield. I was fighting for my life for a moment then. It is very bad to become distracted in battle.
I knew we had them. It became a slaughter. I caught sight of Ulf quite near me. He was using his ax, paying no attention to the Malms’ light armor and going straight through it wherever he hit. I was annoyed to see how effective it was; ax heads sink deeper than swords, and never once did Ulf seem in danger of having his caught in a falling body.
About half of the Malms were caught between my six tired pennons and the fresh troops. They fought bravely, and few of them surrendered even when we called upon them to do so. The other half of them were between Urdo’s Own Ala and the river. That was where Marchel was, and at the moment of the first attack she rallied her pennons and made a dash north for the highroad. We had forgotten she might want to break for the north. She was pursued, of course, and many of her followers were brought down. She had about two pennons with her by the time she got away, no more than fifty mounted armigers, and no remounts. They left with a burst of their surprising speed, though the horses must have been tired almost to death. Urdo could not have guessed how fast they were, not having seen them before. Against any of our slower alae his strategy would have worked perfectly and let us roll up both halves of them.
After Marchel left, the Malms around me started to surrender.
I would have changed horses and gone after Marchel, but I heard Grugin blowing the rally call for all armigers, and turned Evenstar’s tired head away from the trees and back toward Magor. We walked across the bloody trampled field, occasionally going around a fallen body, horse or rider or sometimes both together. So it was that I came up to Urdo on the middle of a won field, as I had met him the first time so long before. He was riding Thunder and he looked like himself, as he always did.
“My lord,” I said, as the alae formed up around us. I could see Darien, wiping his face. Near him was Masarn’s familiar broad grin. I was amazed. I couldn’t think what he was doing here; he said he had given up fighting. I looked back at Urdo, not knowing what to say. “You came.”
“I have come,” he said, and smiled.
— 7 —
Then Tovran raged at his daughter and swore that she would marry Drusan, whether she would or no. He did not wish to be thought a barbarian by his Lossian and Tirtanagan subjects so he did not kill Naso as he had threatened but gave him work that kept him far away from Vinca on the north-east border of the Empire.
But Helen still said, “What though my lover be only a poet, he is true to me and I love him. That is worth more than Empire to me.”
Drusan said he would not have the maiden if she be unwilling, but Tovran would not see his plans for dynasty fall away. After two years in which Helen did not change her mind, he set a date for the wedding. On the morning on which she was to be married her father went to her rooms and found the poor girl dead in her bath, her wrists cut and all her blood drained away.
Then Dalitus said to Drusan, “Helen has done only what our noble ancestors thought it good to do when faced with an intolerable situation. You and I should consider our principles when faced with an Emperor who demands such sacrifice. Is it wise that we give it to him, or should we consider some other course?” Drusan refused to pay attention then, but afterward when Dalitus would say such things he began to listen.
— From Cornelien, The Annals of Imperial Vinca
We should go after her,” I said, gesturing uphill toward where Marchel and t
he majority of her surviving armigers had disappeared into the trees.
“Some of us. On fresh horses,” Urdo said, signaling to Grugin. The call went out for those who could to change horses. “Will four pennons be enough, do you think?”
“If they can catch her,” I said wearily. I pulled my helmet off and rubbed my head where it had started to hurt. There was a new dent in the helmet.
“Her horses may be fast, but they must be nearly foundered,” Urdo said. He beckoned to Masarn. “Take four pennons of unwounded armigers on fresh horses and pursue.”
“How far?” he asked, looking warily northward toward the hills. “Are there tracks?”
“Not that way,” I said. “The highroad goes north; she’ll have to stay on it. You couldn’t get horses through the high hills, and she has no supplies; she’ll have to make for a base.” I turned to Urdo. “I’m sorry. I thought we could lure her out to fight without her getting loose.”
“She’s loose with two pennons and no supplies, rather than two alae and well equipped,” he said. “I call that well enough. Masarn, follow her as best you can, keep near to the highroad. I will send scouts along there. You keep sending messages. Come back on the road when it gets dark, that will be an hour or two yet. But don’t stay out all night; camped by the road you would be very vulnerable.”
I glanced around for my decurios. “Take Bradwen’s pennon,” I said. “She knows the land around here well. And—” I noticed something. “Did ap Madog’s pennon come up with you?”
“From Aberhavren, yes,” Urdo said.
“Then take some of them as well; they have been scouting but not long in the battle.”
Masarn raised his chin. “I’ll do what I can,” he said.
“But what are you doing here anyway?” I asked.
“No time,” he said, and grinned. “Like a lot of our people, I’ve come back to the banner for the emergency.”
I smiled as he went off. His words brought back the war so clearly, and all the good times then.
“We have to get inside,” Urdo said, bringing my mind back to the moment. “Come on.”
I settled my helmet back on my head and took up my shield again. It was beaten and battered so that the painted figure of a demon was almost unrecognizable. Even the iron rim was dented where I had brought it down hard on a gauntleted wrist. “What terms do we offer?” I asked.
“Aurien must stand trial. The rest of them were obeying her orders and can be forgiven if they ask pardon now and swear not to oppose us any longer,” Urdo said. He signaled to Grugin and to Raul, who came up from where he had been waiting with the baggage train. He had herald’s branches with him. My pennon came and formed up behind me. I looked them over briefly. We were seven down. I hoped they were mostly wounded, not dead. I would have to find out later. I’d never lost so many at one fight. We just weren’t used to fighting other cavalry.
We raised our banners and rode toward the gates of Magor, still resolutely shut against us. As we went, Grugin blew the command to the rest of the armigers to stand down. Govien started to sort out the wounded and the dead. The few Malmish prisoners were being roped together. I had no idea what we were going to do with them. It didn’t seem likely that we would get a good ransom from their families in Narlahena. Golidan had set half his pennon to catching the loose Malmish horses, who were beginning to gather unhappily into groups as horses will who have lost their riders.
The Isarnagans were shouting and banging their shields with their spears. They quietened as we drew near, impressed by the banners and Urdo’s bearing. They moved out of the way to make a path for us. I saw Emer among them, alive and unwounded.
I recognized the people on the wall by the gates. Two of them were Aurien’s regular hall guards. The third was Father Cinwil. The fourth was my nephew Galbian. How could Aurien be such a fool as to have the boy there? My stomach clenched as I looked up at him. If he offered defiance then his life was forfeit. The law said fifteen was old enough to know what he was doing personally, though not old enough to be expected to try to control his mother. Aurien knew that; she had to.
“The invaders from across the sea, whom Aurien ap Gwien chose to harbor, are dead, fled, or defeated,” Raul said loudly. “Aurien ap Gwien, who has poisoned her sister and conspired with the High King’s enemies against the Peace and the Law, must stand trial for her crimes.”
I glanced at Urdo, who was looking up at Galbian. I was so glad he was here to conduct the trial and relieve me of that burden.
“You people of Magor who will swear to uphold the King’s Peace and the Law from this day forward, may have mercy, and return to King’s Peace by so swearing, though you should dread to swear falsely in the name of the White God ever merciful, or in the name of any god of the land.”
Raul paused, and took several breaths. What he said next was not so loud, but it carried. “Open the gates, in the name of Urdo ap Avren, High King of Tir Tanagiri!”
“We will open the gates,” Father Cinwil said. I breathed a sigh of relief. “But the heathens must not enter.”
“The folk of Dun Morr will remain outside, but you must send out food and drink to them,” Raul countered quickly.
“We do not have enough to send,” Father Cinwil said. “Come in and we will show you.”
I frowned. There should have been plenty. Raul glanced at Urdo, raising his eyebrows. Urdo must have signaled something I did not see, for Raul went on smoothly. “Very well, if you do not have enough you cannot. But open the gates and accept our pardon, or suffer the consequences.”
“We will accept your offer of clemency,” Galbian said, his voice sounding strained and high as he forced it to carry. I wondered if Aurien had sent him up there so she could avoid saying that. Then the gates were opened from inside and we rode in.
Galbian came down at once and knelt to Urdo. I did not hear what they said to each other, but Urdo raised him and embraced him without hesitation. Then young Gwien came and knelt, and again Urdo forgave him easily. Gwien came up to me afterward, as the people of Magor came up one by one. “Will I still be going to Derwen for the summer?” he asked, with a child’s self-centered view of the world.
“You’ll probably be coming to live at Derwen to learn how to be my heir,” I said.
“Oh good,” he said, and started to pet Evenstar. After a moment, awkwardly and without looking up, he said, “I’m ever so glad Mother didn’t manage to poison you, Aunt Sulien.”
“Where is your mother?” I asked. She wasn’t anywhere in sight.
“She said when you were ready she’d be in Grandfather’s room, but you should go there and not us. She made us promise.”
I knew then, and my dream came back to me in a flash; Veniva holding out a coil of rope and a dagger. Suicide, the Vincan way out. All she would be avoiding was a trial and an execution. In many ways it would be better. Still, I had to try to stop her. She might have information we needed about our enemies’ plans. Urdo was still accepting pardons. I could not distract him. I signaled to Raul, who walked his horse over to me.
“I need to go into the hall to find Aurien,” I said. “Gwien, tell Raul what she told you.”
Gwien repeated it. Raul’s hand went to his pebble, but his eyes met mine. “I will come with you,” he said.
“Look after Evenstar, Gwien,” I said. I dismounted, feeling my legs wobble as I took my own weight. I had not realized how tired I was. Evenstar suffered the boy to take hold of her harness self-importantly. Galbian stood under the portico outside the hall and looked at me with shadowed eyes as Raul and I passed. Unlike his brother, he knew.
The hall seemed empty; all its people were outside. I pushed open doors, and walked through the dining hall with the Vincan couches. I longed to lie down on one and sleep; the exhaustion of the days of waiting and of the battle was hitting me hard. I pressed on, leading Raul to the great stairway leading upstairs. I knew the way. Duke Galba’s room was the great upper chamber, hung with tapestries showin
g the lives and noble deaths of the Dukes of Magor. The newest and brightest showed Galba killing Sweyn at Foreth. Aurien had made it herself; it had taken her two years. The spears and swords were made of real silver-gilt thread that came all the way from Caer Custenn.
She was sitting before it in one of the red padded chairs. For a moment I thought we had been in time. Her eyes were open and she seemed to see us. She was wearing a red linen overdress fastened at the neck with her gold-and-pearl brooch. She had let her white hair down to straggle loose about her face. I could not remember the last time I had seen her with her hair disarranged. She had shorn it for Galba, not let it straggle. Seeing it like that set off deep feelings of uneasiness; it was almost frightening. I took a breath and walked into the room toward her.
“Aurien?” I said. She had her pebble around her neck on a cord, as usual. There was a beaker in her hand. She neither moved nor spoke. I froze, halfway across the room. Raul came past me and went up to her. He put his hand to her neck to check if her blood was still moving. As he did so her hand opened and the beaker fell to the floor and split in two. A few drops spilled out onto the woven carpet. Raul began murmuring prayers over her. I picked up the bits of the beaker and sniffed at them. Henbane.
Raul came to a break in his prayers. “Too late,” I said in a hushed voice.
“Oh no,” he said, turning to me. “She is poisoned, paralyzed by the poison, but alive.”