Blade didn't mind. It had been a long day, and he'd have to be up at dawn tomorrow if he wanted to get this army on the road by noon.
In fact, Blade didn't wake up until it was full daylight, and when he did it was the sound of the army moving out which woke him. On his first day as a Mythoran general, he found himself having to miss breakfast and ride furiously to catch up with the men he was supposed to be leading. Everyone except Blade had a good laugh over this.
The allied army marched on Mythor, the Maghri on the right and the rebels on the left. A stroke of luck solved the problem of paying the horsemen. The abandoned Goharan camp was quickly discovered, and in it a large sum in gold and silver. Apparently the Goharans had expected to be able to buy allies. Blade gave two-thirds of the gold to the Maghri, in return for a solemn promise not to loot either Goharans or Mythorans. The Maghri were delighted with the arrangement, the rebels somewhat less so, but Blade was able to persuade everyone after a good deal of argument.
In four days the army reached the sea and turned north along the coast. They spent a day gathering supplies for men and horses, then pushed north. Blade didn't have to urge anyone to hurry now. All he had to do was ride at the head of the army, as the long line of horsemen thundered north past estates, farms, fishing villages, and gaping or cheering men and women.
They met no Goharan soldiers on the road, and little resistance of any sort. The undermanned garrisons of the little coastal forts shut their gates, hurled stones and curses at rebels who rode too close to the walls, and did nothing else. A few desperate Goharan landowners tried to arm their tenants and fight, but at least half of these foolish men were cut to pieces by the weapons they'd handed out. None of the others delayed the advancing army for more than a few hours.
No one expected the allied army. The last thing most Goharans had heard was word of the advance inland. A few knew that there'd been a battle, but no one seemed to know that Gohar's best troops in Mythor were either dead or prisoners. Sigluf and Khraishamo took great pleasure in spreading the news, and in warning people that they were now at the mercy of the rebels.
«Mythor will be free,» said the pirate. «You can't change that. All you can do is get yourself killed by making a stupid fight, or live and try to make the best of it. Why be stupid?'»
This argument was particularly convincing when backed up by the sight of the long column of grim, ragged horsemen, with their dusty faces and bright weapons.
On the last day, even the horses seemed to catch the eagerness of their riders. The entire army went pounding north at a steady trot. They rode on through the night, and as the eastern sky turned gray rode up to the landward wall of Mythor.
Like Gohar, Mythor wasn't intended to stand attack by land. The nearest enemies on land were the Maghri, and they were a long way off. Before they could ever reach Mythor, the soldiers and the people inland would unite to stop them. Now the inland people were riding side by side with the Maghri against a nearly defenseless city.
A few guards tried to hold the gates. Archers picked off some of them, and climbing the walls on improvised ladders disposed of the rest. All the gates were open in half an hour, and the riders poured into the streets of Mythor, shrieking, screaming, shooting arrows at anything moving, and calling to the Mythorans to come out and meet the men who'd given them freedom.
Along with the city, the riders scooped up nearly a thousand sailors on shore leave from a fleet of Goharan galleys in the harbor. They'd reached Mythor only three days ago, and in spite of rumors of trouble the admiral let his men go ashore.
«Long trip, even if we did miss the storm,» one sailor told Blade. He didn't seem particularly worried over being captured. «Degyat's not the sort to keep men shut up just for a rumor, so-«
«Degyat's your admiral?»
«Admiral of the First Fleet, anyway. Second Fleet's coming along any day, and then you bastards aren't going to have everything-«
«Thank you. Which galley is Degyat's flagship?»
When Blade learned this, he sent out a messenger under a white flag, to ask the admiral to receive him in two hours. Then he gave a few sharp orders to the rebel army about acting like liberators, not conquerors. After that he bathed, shaved, and put on clean clothes for the first time in nearly two weeks, and had himself rowed out to Degyat's flagship.
Degyat flew his flag in one of the big two-banked galleys, anchored in the middle of the First Fleet. Blade counted thirty-two other galleys. The young admiral met him by the aftercastle, and invited him below.
When they were alone, Degyat said bluntly, «I'm not planning on holding you prisoner. But I'd like to ask you why I shouldn't?»
Blade didn't smile. «Because if I don't come back, my men will kill all your sailors we caught on shore.»
«That's what I thought. Well, I'm sure you know that you're in a strong position for now. I'm also sure you've learned that you won't be in it for long. The Second Fleet is coming south, with nearly a hundred ships under Kloret.»
«I see. Did he get word of the rebellion or-?»
Blade stopped as he saw Degyat's face harden. The man was obviously determined not to give Blade any unnecessary information. Blade didn't entirely blame him, either. Degyat might be an enemy of Kloret, but he was also a loyal servant of Gohar's Emperor, facing a leader of rebels against the Empire. They were both in a position where they could not be friends even if they weren't willing to be open enemies. Unfortunately Blade had a war to run and an army to lead. He couldn't afford to put up with even delaying tactics.
«Degyat,» he said quietly. «I can not only have your men killed. I can block the entrance to the harbor and then starve out or sink all your ships. I don't have to do this. I don't really want to do it. But I will, if you don't answer my questions. I'll have to assume the worst, and do whatever I can to protect my own men and keep Mythor free.»
A long silence. Blade realized that Degyat no longer looked like a young man. The last few months couldn't have been an easy time for him, with Thrayket's death bringing things to a boil. And then the long-feared Mythoran rebellion on top of it!
The silence went on, until Degyat broke it with a sigh and a bitter laugh. «All right, Blade. Kloret didn't expect the rebellion to come this soon, or to be this successful. He's not after you. He's coming south to meet the Bloodskins.»
«The Sarumi? Since when has Gohar needed a hundred and thirty ships against them?»
«Since Kloret decided to sail against their homeland and root them out for all time.»
So Kloret was planning on a major campaign against the Pirate Folk. If he won, the first great victory of Harkrat's reign would be his. Everyone would remember that, particularly the merchants whose ships would now be safe. Grateful merchants could give him all the money needed to buy soldiers. If Kloret succeeded in destroying the Sarumi, Harkrat would probably be his next victim.
Blade smiled grimly. «And he's been expecting to use Mythor as a base?»
«Of course.»
«Then the rebellion is going to be a nasty surprise for him.» Degyat also smiled. As loyal as he was to Harkrat, the idea of Kloret's rage at learning of such a blow appealed to him.
For a moment Blade considered the idea of negotiating with Kloret the use of Mythor as a base for his fleet, in return for his recognition of its freedom. Then he decided against it. Kloret might not be trustworthy even while the campaign against the Sarumi was underway. He certainly wouldn't be trustworthy afterward, when he was the ruler of Gohar in all but name. He would turn around and try to bring Mythor under Gohar's rule again. Blade wouldn't suffer — he'd be back in Home Dimension by then-but his friends would be in deadly danger.