Blade Of Fire (Book 2)
CHAPTER 34
The battle had been won. The enemy fleet of Corsair galleons and Zephyr fighting galleys had been enormous, but the allied ships had all worked together, despite the fact that more than six individual nations had contributed vessels to the sea-going force that had finally faced the enemy. Sharley felt a deep glow of pride for the sailors who’d conducted themselves with such bravery in the engagement, and he could only feel an unending gratitude to the Venezzian and Hellene captains who’d provided the backbone and fighting prowess of the fleet.
Sharley and Mekhmet had joined with the tough little Hellenic marines and had fought from ship to ship as their galleys rammed the slower vessels of the enemy. Sometimes they had to leap between ships that were literally aflame as the strange machines that shot out the terrifying ‘Hellenic Fire’ had ignited everything in their paths – including, it seemed, the surface of the water!
Some of the hand-to-hand fighting had been vicious as the Corsair sailors fought bravely to defend their ships, but every vessel Sharley, Mekhmet and the marines had boarded was captured.
And at last, towards the end of the battle, the Venezzian admiral had spied a weakness in the enemy line, and as one the allied fleet had surged across the crashing seas and broken the foe’s formation. That had been the end for the Corsairs and Zephyrs, and after that the battle had become a large-scale ‘mopping-up’ campaign as individual ships were hunted down and captured.
The Commander of the contingent of Venezzian galleons, Coranelli Vespugi, had enjoyed himself immensely, and it was at his insistence that not one of the enemy fleet was allowed to escape. After all, he pointed out, their success as a relieving army depended on surprise, and any Corsair or Zephyr who got away would undoubtedly send news to Bellorum.
Not until the following morning did Sharley learn that during the night all of the enemy prisoners had been herded on to one ship and then systematically slaughtered by every archer, soldier and sailor of the fleet. And when everything had seemed lifeless, the galleys had turned Hellenic Fire against the vessel, and stood back and watched until it sank.
Sharley was enraged, his face a brilliant, glowing red and his eyes green sparks of fire as he confronted the Venezzian Commander and Hellenic Admiral. But Vespugi was unmoved. “It was necessary, my Lord Charlemagne. We have too few supplies to feed prisoners and they would be a burden to guard and prevent from escaping. Would you have your mother die because we allowed them to live and flee to warn of our approach? There is no place for sentimentality in war.”
“They were people with lives and loves, with children and families. Had they lost the right to live just because they chose to fight us? Perhaps in their consciences it seemed right to make war on the Icemark.”
The Venezzian shrugged. “Perhaps. And perhaps their deaths in this way should be seen as the price they had to pay for allowing their consciences to misguide them. How can we know?”
Sharley stormed away to stand at the rails, staring out over the sea. He didn’t hear Ketshaka arrive to stand beside him.
“I too am appalled by this barbarous act, my son. For the Lusu people captives in war are sacred to the Great Spirits, and have their protection,” she said after a moment’s silence. “But Commander Vespugi is of a different tradition. I think he really believed they could not be allowed to live. He is convinced the survival of your mother and your country depended on it.”
“And what price do I place on my country? How many others should die for the sake of its liberty – a thousand? Ten thousand? One hundred thousand? Even more? When do we become as uncaring of life as the Empire is? Are all lives expendable as long as my country lives?”
Ketshaka frowned. “But if you asked any of your soldiers they would say many thousands have died in this war already. Every battle leaves a debris of dead that stretches as far as the eye can see and the mind can guess. Why, they would ask, are these deaths different?”
“Because they were unarmed and had given up the fight. Because they had entrusted their lives to us and we betrayed that trust! Because they were not killed on the battlefield in an equal fight with an equal enemy, but murdered after the fighting was done, by their captors who alone carried weapons! That is why their deaths were different. And in allowing them to die in that way, I have dirtied the purity of my cause. Wouldn’t any soldier say, Ketshaka, that we have become as bad as the Empire, that we have out-Bellorumed Bellorum?”
The Lusu Queen fell silent for several long minutes, her stony features staring out over the grey seas and sky. But then she drew a deep shuddering breath and said, “Charlemagne, my son, I know that the Lusu people would agree with your stance on this, and I believe that even some of your own soldiers would understand your anger and distress at these deaths, but many others would say that your thoughts and ways of thinking are not as theirs, and that this is the way of war. Commander Vespugi acted to help our cause as his conscience and philosophy allowed, and if in your philosophy that is deemed to be wrong, then there will never be a point where your beliefs will concur.”
Ketshaka held Sharley’s eye. “But know this, Prince of the North, and may the Great Spirits be my witnesses: if I could shoulder the burden of this wrong for you, I would. If I had the power I would ensure the world knew for certain that your pockets carry only air and innocence; your spirit is as light as charitable thought, and like the mother I undoubtedly am, for my children I would willingly accept the burden of blame and any wrath that may come.”
She turned then and, stooping, kissed him before walking away to her cabin.
Maggie was having a wonderful time with so many eyewitnesses to give their versions of events for his history. He scurried about the decks talking to sailors and fighters, and even had himself rowed out to the Hellenic triremes and the Venezzian galleons as he gathered his information. He and Primplepuss then retreated to his cabin where he spent many long hours writing everything up into fair copy.
“Our names will live forever in the history of this war,” he said excitedly to Sharley and Mekhmet one night as they had supper in the boys’ quarters. “I must send the manuscript to the Holy Brothers in the Southern Continent just as soon as the sea lanes are open again.”
“Do you think the ending will be to our liking?” asked Sharley quietly.
Maggie looked at him sharply. “We can but hope, My Lord. We can but hope. But now I think the time has come for you to put all memory of unlawful killing and slaughter behind you. You are a warrior with a war to fight. Attend to your conscience when you have the luxury to do so. Now is the time to wage battle!”
Sharley nodded silently and drew a deep breath. Straightening his shoulders he sat up, stretched and forced himself to smile. “Yes, yes. You’re right as usual, Maggie. Now is the time to fight! Just as soon as someone has massaged my leg. It aches like hell after yesterday!”
The next day a grey smudge on a greyer horizon came into view.
“LAND HO!” called the lookout in the crow’s nest, and everyone crowded on to the forecastle and stared eagerly ahead.
“WHERE AWAY?” Sharley called impatiently, his heart pounding so furiously he thought it would rip itself out of his chest.
“AHEAD TO STARBOARD!”
“There! Just there!” he said, pointing wildly. “It’s the Icemark! It’s the Icemark, Maggie! We’re home! We’ve made it!” And seizing the elderly scholar in a bear hug he raised him off his feet. “I’m going to show Primplepuss!” Sharley said excitedly, and shot off to Maggie’s cabin. He returned a few breathless minutes later, the huge old cat draped like a bag of blancmange over his arms. “Look, Primpy! Look! It’s the Icemark. We’re home!”
The cat looked in a bored manner towards the horizon and added her own unmistakeable comment with a terrible fishy aroma that assailed everyone’s nostrils, even in the blustery open air. Everyone scrambled away coughing, apart from Sharley who stood with watering eyes, not daring to drop her in case she fell overboard.
&n
bsp; “Nobody can deny your status as a warrior now,” called Mekhmet from a safe distance. “You’re displaying bravery above and beyond the call of duty!”
The fleet turned to sail further north, to where the ports and harbours were not under Bellorum’s control. Now that the Corsairs and Zephyrs had been destroyed they could have captured a landing stage and unloaded their army in the south, but it was vital that they didn’t reveal their presence. Surprise was going to be their greatest weapon and they had to maintain secrecy at all costs, so they sailed far out to sea, out of sight of any spies.
Sharley watched as the misty haze of the distant coastline sank below the horizon. He was desperate to reach land and set foot once again on the soil of the Icemark. Everywhere he looked, every scent, every sound, even every touch reminded him he was home, and he ached to hear his rough, slightly uncouth native tongue.
For some reason the memory of a small boy with a grubby face, having his cheeks scrubbed with a handkerchief moistened with his mother’s spit, brought tears to his eyes. His cheeks even tingled as though it had just happened. The Queen, he remembered, had then tucked the hankie in the sleeve of her best Court dress and straightened up with supreme regality to greet some important ambassador.
He suspected mothers were the same the world over, and he was now of an age when his had begun to embarrass him to greater depths than he thought possible. But he’d have willingly let her call him by his soppy pet name and kiss him in front of the entire army of the Icemark, if only he could see her again. Every moment of delay seemed to him to bring the moment of her defeat and probable death closer. He was desperate to land and lead his army in a thundering charge to Frostmarris. But he knew he had to be patient. Everything had to be prepared and executed with precision; everything had to be perfect. It would take only the tiniest slip for Bellorum to find out about their presence, and then all hope of rescue would be lost.
According to Captain Sigurdson it would take only two days of good sailing to reach a deepwater harbour where they could dock and disembark. Then would begin the task of getting the horses and zebras back to condition and good health. They’d spent weeks cooped up in narrow stalls, unable to move more than a few feet, drinking bad water and eating grain that was musty with age. They’d be unfit at the very least, and a good proportion of them would be ill. Much the same could be said of the human troopers. None of them had eaten fresh food or drunk fresh water for the entire voyage, and though they’d certainly had more than enough exercise during the sea-battle, in the main there hadn’t been enough room to train or to maintain fitness levels.
Realistically they’d need at least a week after reaching dry land before they could set out for Frostmarris. They’d just have to hope that the act of marching south would improve their overall condition. Sharley was desperate to get started as soon as possible, but every hour, every minute seemed to contrive to delay him.
“It could take a fortnight after landing before we see the walls of the city!” said Sharley to Mekhmet as they ate their supper that night. “Not only will the horses have to recover from the journey, but then we’ll have to march inland and through the Great Forest.”
“Isn’t there a quicker route?” Mekhmet asked.
“No. The best roads go that way, and also I want to make contact with the Holly King and the Oak King. Their army could make the difference between a successful strike against Bellorum and complete failure.”
The Crown Prince drank his sherbet and wished he could take away the terrible pressures and fears his friend was obviously feeling. “I can’t believe we could have made it this far only to fail. It’ll all work out. Just you wait and see.”
“I thought you only believed in the will of the One, and our total inability to know clearly what that might be,” Sharley snapped.
Mekhmet shrugged. “I do. But one name of the One is ‘The Friend’. Why would a true friend let us down now?”
Sharley ignored the unanswerable question and stood up to pace as far as their cabin would allow him. “When did Sigurdson say we’d reach port?”
“The day after tomorrow, early in the morning, as you know full well. Now sit down and eat your supper.”
“I’m not hungry. I think I’ll go up on deck and see what’s happening.”
“There’s nothing happening but grey sea and grey skies. Try and relax.”
“Later,” said Sharley, diving out of the door and hurrying along the companionway to the stairs.
Mekhmet stared after him and sighed. The shy young boy with the amazing red hair and green eyes, who’d so badly needed his help only a few short months ago, seemed to have gone for ever. In his stead was a mighty warrior, an astute politician and a clever diplomat. But sometimes Mekhmet found himself missing the young boy with the infectious giggle and the brilliant smile. He might even have wished for his return, were it not for the fact that Sharley was so much happier. Or at least he would be, if he wasn’t trying to save his country and family, transport an army across oceans and fight a war all at the same time.
When Sharley finally came back from staring over the cold northern seas, Mekhmet would try to help him relax properly over a game of chess or cards. Who knows, maybe he’d even smile again and giggle about some of the antics of Maggie’s appalling farting cat. Mekhmet hoped so; he missed the boy Sharley had been before the war.
The next day Mekhmet was surprised to find he’d woken before Sharley, and he crept quietly around the cabin they shared as he prepared for the day ahead. But he needn’t have bothered. A sudden thunderous roar of iron on wood shook the entire superstructure of the ship as the anchor was dropped.
Sharley leaped to his feet, grasping for the scimitar he wasn’t wearing. “What? Who? Where?”
“Undoubtedly. But I’m not really sure. We’re obviously stopping for some reason. Let’s go and find out.”
They both ran up on deck and found the crew milling about in that controlled chaos of sailors everywhere. The day was brilliantly sunny, the grey of the past week having finally given way to a beautiful summer’s day. Out on the port side was the coast of the Icemark, and more importantly a huge harbour, its quaysides empty and silent, and with an air of watchful fear.
“Ah, there you are, My Royal Highnessesses,” said Sigurdson, his voice sounding like steam escaping from a kettle. “We’ve made much better time than I calculated. Here we are in Michael’s Bay. In truth, I thought we might make it pretty quick, but I didn’t like to get your hopes up too much.”
Sharley hugged him and planted a huge kiss on his hairy cheek. “Captain Sigurdson, you’re a marvel of marvellousness.”
“Well, thankee kindly, I’m sure,” he said, looking flustered. “Now, if you’ll just stand to the asides, so to speak, we can begin the process of unloading and disembarking.”
So began an operation that would take almost three days to complete. The huge fleet could only approach the quayside four ships at a time, and the manoeuvring of the massively ponderous transporters, and the only slightly less cumbersome troop ships, took hours of careful work.
The town itself was almost deserted, as most of its population had gone into exile at the beginning of the war, and its small garrison of rather elderly housecarles had been preparing to fight to the death rather than surrender the harbour to what they thought was the Corsair fleet. When they were hailed in the language of the Icemark by the sailors and then by Maggie, they nearly collapsed with relief.
But their suspicions were aroused again when they saw the warriors of the Desert People. Then when the Lusu appeared they raised their shield wall and refused to listen to any reason. It took the intervention of Sharley himself to pacify them, and even then they watched warily as the figure dressed in black armour limped slowly across the quayside towards them. As usual in times of stress, his gammy leg decided to exaggerate its condition, and he walked almost as badly as he did when he had first left the Icemark. It was only when he removed his helmet and barked at the old s
oldiers in the language of the parade ground that that they finally began to listen. Here was a true son of the Icemark, and not only that – as several of the old soldiers who’d once served in Frostmarris could clearly see – here was a scion of Queen Thirrin’s Royal House.
“Housecarles of the Icemark, I am Prince Charlemagne Athelstan Redrought Strong-in-the-Arm Lindenshield, known as Shadow of the Storm, and youngest son of our ruler and Queen. I have returned from exile and have brought with me an army of new allies: the Desert People of history and legend, and the Lusu people of the fabled continent of Arifica.” He stared unwaveringly at the shield wall that was still locked solid across the quayside. “Who of you will contest the landing of an army that can finally push the hated Bellorum far from our lands?”
A murmur ran through the ranks of the veteran housecarles, then at last a voice rang out, “None of us!”
Sharley smiled. “Good! Then stop arsing about and put down your weapons.”
A huge cheer rose up and the old soldiers ran forward to greet him. As one they laid their shields and axes, spears and swords at his feet. “Lead us to war! Lead us to war!” they shouted, and suddenly all of the doors and windows of the houses that lined the harbour were thrown open and hundreds of people poured out cheering and waving.
Sharley was amazed. He thought he’d taken most of the civilian population into exile when he’d first left the Icemark. But all thoughts and questions were driven from his mind as he was swamped by the throng of ecstatic people. After months of fear and bad news from the front, here was hope once again; here was a chance to fight back against the Empire!
The veteran housecarles immediately remembered their duties, and taking up their weapons they formed a bodyguard about the Prince and forced the people back. Sharley had made it home, and for a few minutes at least, everyone was going to enjoy the sense of relief.