The trouble was, there was no certainty up here amongst the high peaks. No one really knew who was on whose side, and just where all of this was going to end up. Not even Kavan. There were too many variables.
When Spoole had retreated, he had taken as many of the Artemisian troops back with him as would follow: he didn’t want them deserting to join Kavan’s army as it advanced. All those little mountain kingdoms that Kavan himself had so recently conquered suddenly found themselves drained of their new rulers, found themselves free once more. Free to take back their own land and lives, to refortify themselves, to run away, higher into the mountains and safety. Free to launch attacks on the Uncertain Army.
Or even, in some cases, to join it. After all, wasn’t Kavan intending to attack Artemis itself? For some, it didn’t matter that the Army was led by their former conqueror, it was enough to follow it to where it was going. For safety, for revenge, for profit.
Then there were those troops who had found themselves unwilling conscripts in the Uncertain Army, who took the chance to slip away, in ones or twos, in squads and even platoons, to seek freedom, or perhaps to set themselves up in one of the abandoned kingdoms, maybe to rule over those who still remained, or merely to find somewhere to hide whilst the events unfolded without them to the south, waiting to join the victors later on.
Whichever side that was.
Finally, there were those who still saw Kavan and his army as the enemy. Whether Artemisian soldiers loyal to Spoole and the Generals, or the remnants of the armies of the Northern Kingdoms who still held out in the high caves and passes, swooping down occasionally to fight their guerrilla war, there were still enough robots to ambush and bomb and trap and attack Kavan and his troops. Sailing down from the skies beneath silver parafoils, rolling rocks in avalanche down the mountainsides, pouring petrol to fill the streams, filling the air with iron filings and chaff, ricocheting cannonballs from the rocky walls, igniting magnesium flares that filled the night with harsh light that burned out the eye cells, or simply attacking in a chatter of rifle shot and a clatter of knives and awls, Kavan found his progress constantly slowed and frustrated.
As if he was wading against a tide of his own design.
And yet, it didn’t seem to make any difference to the size of his army. If anything, it continued to grow. A constant stream of robots found their way to him, offering advice and allegiance.
Robots like the one that stood before Kavan at the moment.
Calor had brought her to meet him. She wore an engineer’s body: blue panelling, the machinery beneath it adapted, tuned, altered from the standard pattern that Artemis imposed on its robots. Oddly enough, this didn’t upset Kavan. He recognized the Artemisian State’s need for engineers. So long as they helped to advance its cause he never felt a need to understand them.
‘Her name is Ada. She says her mother was a Raman, her father an Artemisian.’
‘And do you follow Nyro’s way?’ asked Kavan, looking at the robot’s elongated body.
‘I do,’ answered Ada. ‘Should my parentage cast doubt on my loyalties? Your mind wasn’t twisted in Artemis, either, Kavan. It’s not about where you were made, it’s what you believe in.’
Kavan noticed the way Calor was looking at him, as if surprised at what she had just heard. She covered up her confusion. ‘I found her up there,’ she said, pointing to the rocky peaks to the west. ‘She was making her way towards you.’
‘I was,’ Ada said, ‘I’ve been looking for you. You’re making a mistake, Kavan.’
Kavan took a closer look at Calor. He could hear the hum of the current running through her body. Scouts always pushed themselves too hard. In Kavan’s opinion they were already half mad when they were made: you never knew which way they would jump. Calor now belonged to an army whose direction changed by the hour. No wonder she was tense. ‘Perhaps you should walk with me a while, Calor,’ he suggested.
Calor shook her head.
‘Got to get back to the mountains, Kavan. Keep watching your path.’
‘As you wish,’ said Kavan. He watched her silver body as she sprang up the side of a cliff, jumping from ledge to ledge, scrabbling with her claws for purchase in the smallest cracks. Showers of stones rattled to the ground behind her, marking her passage.
Kavan turned back to Ada.
‘You said I was making a mistake? Do you think that Spoole and the rest are the true leaders of Artemis?’
Ada’s blue eyes flashed. Whether in humour or anger, Kavan couldn’t tell.
‘Of course I don’t,’ she said. ‘You’re the right robot for the job. It’s just that you’re going about it the wrong way.’
‘Go on.’
‘You’re thinking like you’ve always done, Kavan. It’s not your fault; it’s the way your mind was twisted, to think of leading soldiers to the expansion of Artemis. Well, the conditions no longer apply. The continent is conquered and you’re not in full control of this army. Although there are many who believe in you, there are just as many who don’t. You don’t have the backing of Spoole and the Generals any more, even the backing that they gave you under duress of circumstances. You’re the right robot for the job of overthrowing the Generals, but not for the job of getting this army down to where it’s needed.’
Ada’s blue eyes flashed again, and this time Kavan saw the humour there. He was reminded of Eleanor, his old second in command. But whereas she was twisted a warrior and had always subtly challenged him for leadership, Ada was an engineer. She would be more interested in getting the job done.
‘So who is the right person? You?’
‘I know these mountains well, Kavan. I know what Spoole’s engineers will have done to the road before you. Blowing bridges, mining the roads, setting avalanches. All the traps that I would have set if I were in their position.’
‘And do you know of another way south?’
‘Yes. Head west and follow the Northern Road.’
Kavan gazed at her blue eyes.
‘The Northern Road? I didn’t realize it extended into the mountains.’
‘There’s a lot you don’t know, Kavan,’ said Ada. ‘What does Artemis care for but Artemis?’
‘Nothing, and that is how it should be. Why is there a road through the mountains?’
‘The Borners, or those who became the Borners, followed the road here from the Top of the World. They came to these mountains for iron, and they carried it back to their home.’
‘What happened to them?’
‘War,’ said Ada. ‘The people who settled in the mountains wanted to keep the iron to themselves.’
Kavan nodded. That made sense to him.
‘How far is this road from here?’
‘Barely a mile,’ said Ada, and she laughed. Kavan understood why. This was a land of sheer peaks and deep valleys. A robot could travel a hundred miles to get to a point a mile distant.
‘There is path to that road not far from here. Send your Scouts ahead, they will confirm what I say is true.’
‘Is it safe?’
‘Safe? Of course not. But under the circumstances it’s the right path. Your mind is set on marching a path of conquest. What you need is a path of stealth and convenience. This path will deliver you through the mountains and onto the Artemisian plain. It is the right path to take. I can see that.’
Kavan thought of the road he had travelled so far and then he gestured to a nearby Scout.
‘Listen to this robot,’ he said. ‘Search the path that she suggests. See if it is suitable for us to traverse.’
Of course, thought Kavan, it could be a trap, but no more so than the path they currently followed.
And Ada was right about one thing at least. Kavan was not the right robot to make decisions at this point. He wasn’t commanding an army as such, he was more caught in the middle of the events that were unfolding on the continent. Robots moved this way and that, and for the moment Kavan was following the ebb and flow of the metal tide.