There was a terrible silence. It spread from the throne outward through the room like a ripple in a pond. Prado dared look up. Charion’s face had become almost as white as Areava’s.
But she is no Rosetheme, he reminded himself. She is angry because she has lost. He resisted the urge to sigh in relief.
“Farben.” She spoke the name with a voice like ice. “Accompany this man to the main storerooms. He will be given what supplies he needs. He must sign for them.”
Farben bowed and scraped and backed away, plucking at Prado’s sleeve for him to follow. As Prado retreated, Char-ion said: “I do not ever want to see your face again, General. If I do, I will have your head cut off, and I will send that to Areava instead of a carrier bird.”
Prado turned his back on her and followed Farben out of the throne room.
Rendle listened patiently to the sergeant; the man had served with him for nearly twenty years, and he knew him to be as brave as any mercenary had a need to be, and responsible as well, something Rendle found rarer than courage. When the sergeant had finished, Rendle patted him kindly on the shoulder.
“You did the right thing. If the young fool had done as you advised, he would still be alive.”
The sergeant nodded helplessly. “Aye, Captain, I know.”
“And most of all, you’ve found the route is navigable.”
“But steep and slow and cold, Captain. Even if you started now, you’d not get our whole force across it by spring.”
“All right. Get some rest.”
The sergeant left, his head still bowed.
Rendle went inside the tent and checked the map which had been laid out for several weeks. On it were marked several trails leading to the Oceans of Grass, which his riders had scouted for him. With blue ink he carefully traced a line from his camp to the Oceans of Grass, going across the pass the sergeant and his late companion had followed. He now had three blue lines leading through the mountains; mainly old trails, naturally formed. All the other lines were marked in red: all dead ends or impassable by horse during winter. Most importantly, the three passable trails were no more than forty leagues from each other, two days’ comfortable ride on the Oceans of Grass. He could get his whole force across into the Oceans of Grass and hit the Chetts as they returned, tired and hungry, to the summer pastures. He did not expect to be lucky enough to find Lynan among the first clans he attacked, but one of them would have information about which clan was protecting the prince. With luck, he would be able to attack that clan, get the prince, and retreat back to Haxus before the Chetts could muster any effective resistance. It was a big gamble, but that was a part of any mercenary’s life: choose the wrong side in a war and even if you escaped with your life, you made no profit from it. If it had not been for the profit he had made in trading slaves, the last war would have left him high and dry and without a company.
Someone behind him coughed politely.
“What is it?” he growled. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“These are busy times,” replied a soft voice.
Rendle groaned inside. “King Salokan,” he said, turning. “What a pleasant surprise.”
Salokan smiled thinly. “You don’t mean that.” He regarded the shorter man for a moment, mildly jealous of the mercenary’s knotty build. He went to the map. “I see you have your third way across.”
“Yes. I can get the troops through the mountains in two weeks.”
“You will be divided.”
“Briefly.” He pointed to the middle trail. “We’ll rejoin here. Two days after reaching the Oceans of Grass we’ll be the largest military force on the plains.”
“Until the Chetts organize. How long do you think you’ll have?”
“Five weeks, maybe more. At any rate, I intend to be back within a month. How goes your own deadline?”
“Everything is on schedule. We’ll cross the border in two weeks.”
“You still intend to invade Hume before the thaw?”
Salokan nodded. “You’ll be crossing the mountains; compared to that, we’ll have an easy time of it. Besides, by now Axeava will know we’re on her border. If she’s been able to put together an army in the meantime, it will march in spring. That would only give us a few weeks. By moving early I can sweep aside her border patrols and be at Daavis before her army takes its first step. Once I have Daavis, she must retreat to protect Sparro and her line of supply.”
“And by then you’ll have Lynan, and with him you can work on Chandra to change sides. King Tomar has always had a soft spot for the General and his whelp.”
Salokan carefully studied Rendle. “If your plan works.”
“And if your plan works,” Rendle countered. Damn if he was going to take responsibility for the success of the whole invasion.
“We are in each others’ hands,” Salokan said easily. “We will both do our part.”
“And we will win.”
“ I will win,” Salokan corrected him. “You will help me.”
Rendle bowed slightly. “Your Majesty.”
“Indeed.” Salokan sighed heavily. “I’m leaving for the border today. Pity. I’ve enjoyed our little chats. When do you start?”
“Now that I have my mountain passes, two weeks.”
“By the way, have you discussed your plans with General Thewor?”
“Yes.”
“I trust he gave you no trouble? I had a good word with him about this command thing.”
“No trouble. He was as meek as a lame horse. How did you convince him?”
“I told him I was thinking of starting a new elite bodyguard to protect my person, and that if he gave you any trouble he would find himself in command of it.”
“Why would that deter him?”
“It would be a bodyguard made up entirely of eunuchs.”
Chapter 16
Ager woke with the sun, having only slept a few hours. He dressed quickly and limped out of his tent, scratching his belly with one hand and his head with the other. He realized almost immediately he had an audience of about two hundred Chetts, all regarding him with greater respect than he felt he deserved at that moment. He stopped his scratching and lowered his hands.
“Hello,” he said, a little awestruck. His breath frosted in the air.
Morfast stepped forward from the crowd and went to his side. “I assembled the Ocean clan’s family heads as soon as possible. They must swear their loyalty to you—”
“All of them?” Ager interrupted, startled. “This morning?”
“—or else they must leave the clan.”
“Oh.” Ager glanced around to see if anyone else was watching. A few passersby stopped to look on. “All right.”
It was over remarkably quickly. One by one the family heads came to Ager and placed his hand on their bowed heads, then left to make way for the next one. Although Ager did not even have time to get really cold before it was done, it lasted long enough for a crowd to gather around the ceremony.
“Have you any more surprises for me?” Ager asked Morfast.
“I was going to suggest we go to Korigan to let her know you are now chief of the Ocean clan.”
“Can it wait until after breakfast?”
“No need,” she said. “She and the White Wolf were watching the whole thing.”
“And a fine ceremony it was, too,” Korigan said, and came before Ager, Lynan standing a little behind her. The prince was smiling broadly at the crookback, from pride and amusement.
Morfast elbowed Ager in the side.
“What?” he asked. “I’m new to this, tell me what I have to do.”