This Third Phalanx presented a fine stirring sight. But, as Nath said: “They have not been blooded yet, majister.”
“Come the day, Nath, and they’ll do as well as we did with the old Phalanx of Therminsax.”
“They will, by a Brumbyte’s Elbow! They will!”
The next day it was the turn of the churgur infantry, long flexible lines of sword and shield men, splendid in their crimson and yellow. By example and exhortation we were gradually dinning into their heads that shields were not cowards’ weapons, and the success of the Phalanx at the Battle of Voxyri had done much to impress all. These men were organized into regiments under a Jiktar, four hundred eighty strong, although some were still short while others contained as many as six hundred in their ranks. This situation I tolerated; time would straighten all that out. And every minute of every live-long day was spent in training these men and drilling them and turning highly individual citizenry who were habituated to working together when profits were involved into that fierce, demoniac, cutting machine of an army that would be vital to our survival.
Also, at this time, members of the Order of Kroveres of Iztar began to trickle in from wild adventurings around the country. I welcomed them with the utmost warmth, for these were the men with whom I sought to change the ways of a world. I shall have much more to say of the KRVI later; but suffice it for now to say that they formed a powerful if small band of devoted comrades, beautifully complementing that choice band who had followed me in the Times of Troubles. And, from time to time, when a man proved himself, fresh candidates were taken in and, slowly, the strength of the KRVI grew. The Grand Archbold of the Kroveres of Iztar did not put in an appearance in Vondium which saddened me mightily.
So, events were happening thick and fast every day; but the events I hungered for did not happen. Delia did not return. Dayra and Barty did not return. The damned ghost invasion remained invisible. And my friends did not show their faces in Vondium, as I would have wished. As for the rest of my family -
enough for them that I wished them well and, indeed, messages had been sent to Zeg, the King of Zandikar.
Jaidur, of course, was prancing around running errands for the women. The sailing fliers were built with the utmost urgency and the yards turned them out by the handful. Mere clumsy wooden boxes, they seemed, square-ended, blunt, and yet purposeful, designed to do a job and adequate for the demands that would be placed upon them. The silver boxes were readied and installed. The masts were raised and all the complicated rigging of the sealanes was dispensed with; we rigged them, with foremast, main and mizzen, courses, topsails and royals only with spinnaker and jib. I had decided it was scarcely worth the complications to rig masts extending from the sides at right angles, as we had done in the past. With these sailing boxes stuffed with varters and catapults and gros-varters, aswarm with aerial sailors and fighting men, I fancied we would give another nasty shock to the invading armies, as we had trounced the army of Hamal at the Battle of Jholaix. The silver boxes lifted the skyships only. The lines of force — ethero-magnetic force, old San Evold sometimes called them — which crisscrossed the world, were gripped onto and held by the power of the silver boxes, as though a keel was extended. By this means the skyships could tack against the wind, unlike free-flight balloons which are helpless in a breeze.
I went to see Jilian on the day of the departure of part of the army in a fleet of skyships. It was an evolution only, to see how quickly we could transport and disembark a Phalanx into battle. The ships were not all the same, naturally, being the work of individuals; but they were of a size. There were the smaller vessels, sloops of the sky, and the medium sized frigates of the air. And there were the mammoths. These were four and five decks high, with towering superstructures studded with varter ports. Flung together, they were cross-beamed and buttressed, their knees sturdy, their scarphs rudimentary and reinforced with bronze, their planking coarse and heavy. Without the need to combat the hogging and sagging motion to which a ship is subjected in the sea, without the need for fine lines, they could be built cheaply and efficiently as hulking great boxes stuffed with fighting potential. Each of the larger ships could carry a Jodhri from the Phalanx or two regiments of churgur infantry or a regiment of cavalry. I needed to know how swiftly the whole force could be brought into a concentration, landing and disembarking and the troops forming. This kind of exercise was vital to our planning. We took that Third Phalanx that had looked so fine on parade, two brigades of churgurs, and four regiments of cavalry, two of zorcas, and one each of totrixes and nikvoves.
At the last minute, by design to test the men, I added the Fourth and Sixth Regiments of Totrixes. That, at the least, gave a more equable balance as between infantry and cavalry. With the bedlam going on as the two regiments frantically loaded themselves into their ships, I went to see Jilian. She looked up from the yellow pillows and she did not smile.
“So, Jak the Drang, Jikai — you are the Emperor of Vallia.”
“You are feeling better? The wound has healed?”
Her claw was removed; but the end of the balass box stuck out from under the bed. The scent of roses overpowered in the room. The quietness fell soothingly after the uproar outside.
“Yes. You bound up my wound — and the doctor says you sucked out the poison.”
“Yes.”
Her hand moved under the yellow sheet, across her breast, and was still. Still she did not smile.
“And — the emperor?”
“What difference does that make?”
“To you — or to me?”
‘To either of us.”
“Nothing.” And then she smiled. “No difference at all.”
“When you are fully recovered I want to talk to you about Lancival, and other things.” I licked my lips.
“About a girl called Ros the Claw-”
She half sat up. Her dark hair shimmered in the light.
“Ros? How do you know her?”
I felt the leap in me. I kept my face composed. “I have met her.”
“Well, steer clear of her. She has a leem temper.” Jilian lay back, and I could see she was still very weak. “It is something to do with her father. A right cramph, by her account. But she is good with the-”
Here Jilian halted herself again, and then said, “With her claw.” And so I knew she had nearly told me the secret name these women called that vicious weapon.
“The people here will look after you well. Get strong again. The poison weakened you-”
She saw the way I was clad, the harness, the colors, the weaponry. “You march out to war?”
“No. An exercise only.”
She laughed. It was a small, pale laugh; but it reminded me of the way she threw her head back and laughed, fine and full and free, as we rode across the grasslands.
“You look as grim as though you ride out to confront the legions of Hodan-Set.”
Chapter Eleven
Fifty immense sailing skyships lifted out of Vondium and spread their wings and with a good breeze set course southeast. I had a mind to find out what was going on in that corner of Vallia. Crossing Hyrvond, the imperial province which extends a finger to the south alongside the Great River, we were over friendly territory and the people, looking up in wonder and seeing our flags, waved in greeting. Next came Valhotra, of which Genal Arclay was Vad. Continuing on with the breeze backing a trifle and making us slant our yards to catch the best of it, we crossed the Vadvarate of Procul. Procul, and the Vadvarate of Gremivoh to the southwest of it, lies at the heart of superb wine country. But our thoughts were not on fine wines as we neared the border with Mai Yenizar. This kovnate, which was then fairly large, extending from a wide loop of the Great River southwards to the coast, was firmly in enemy hands.