Azkun tried to imagine Shelim, a little boy on his mother’s knee in a Vorthenki long house. Would Thalissa have told him such stories he wondered as he looked at his mother in the light of the stove. The warm red glow from the dying embers softened her old face into something like it must have looked when she was younger. He supposed she must have been pretty, but he had no idea of such things. He felt cheated, he had known no childhood, no mother to tell him stories or soothe away his fears and hurts. He had known only the howling gale of the Chasm.
Althak began to avoid Thalissa less and less as the voyage lengthened. They had exchanged their harsh words and Althak’s hatred of her had been shown to be of Menish’s making. She was a sad person. There was a weight of past sorrow on her that showed in her eyes, and Althak could only respond to such sadness with comfort. He began to coax her into eating more, saying gruffly that she ate less than a gull. At first she returned his interest with a scowl, thinking he mocked her, but Althak’s grin was too infectious for her to sustain that. So began a guarded friendship. They worked together when necessary, adjusting the sail under Shelim’s direction and preparing the meals.
Their diet consisted mostly of oat porridge, dried meat and water. From time to time they caught fresh fish and occasionally they snared a sea gull. But as they left land further behind them the gulls became rare and hard to catch. There was not much meat on them anyway. Fish also became less plentiful as they moved out into the great ocean towards the edge of the world.
Tenari had quickly resumed her blank manner when they left the comforts of Atonir. As always she was at Azkun’s side, her solemn stare fixed on him. Thalissa tried to speak with her but she was wary. Tenari ignored her.
For Azkun the voyage was a happy time. The deaths of fish and birds did not bother him, just as the death of the snake had not. The dolphin’s continual and infectious laughter drove out his sombre feelings of guilt. The dragons had heard him and, through the dolphin, were guiding him to them.
When they were fourteen days from Ramuz they saw an island in the distance but the dolphin did not lead them towards it. Twice more on their journey Shelim told them they were near land though they could not see it. He could tell, he said, by the clouds and by the fact that sea birds circled their mast.
But on the thirty-seventh day, when there was some concern about how long their supplies of fresh water would last, Azkun saw a dark spot on the horizon. The dolphin was guiding them directly towards it.
Chapter 32: The Emperor's Plan
That winter in Anthor was severe. For three months the North wind swept across the plains, freezing everything that lay unprotected in its path. Meyathal was sheltered from the worst of it, located as it was in the valley. The cattle were herded off the higher country into the low lands. Even though they enjoyed a winter covering of heavy fur they were only too pleased to leave the wind to ravage the ridges and the wide plains further north. Many of the northerners migrated south for this season, though the toughest simply waited it out. None of the Relanese caravans ventured north of the Lansheral before spring.
It was a time for craft and handiwork for the Anthorians rather than the hectic raiding and herding of the summer. Raiding was legal in winter, but few had the inclination. There was enough to do inside, a hundred repairs and alterations to make to the herdsmen’s equipment, and new gear to fashion. Everyone had to have something new for the spring games, and this year it was to be a real battle rather than just games. Hides and fleeces had been stored over the summer in anticipation of this confinement. Wool was spun and woven into blankets and clothing. New weapons were made. The smithy was a popular place to meet because it was always warm and always busy.
It was also a time for tales and song. Those veterans who had fought beside Menish forty years ago were in constant demand. Many of them had been haranguing people with their accounts of the battle for years, but now they were listened to avidly. People wanted to know what the men of Gashan looked like. Did they use curved swords like the Anthorians or the straight swords of the Vorthenki? Did they ride horses? Did they wear armour? What cattle did they have that could be raided once they were vanquished?
Keashil was also in great demand, for she knew more songs about the battle than anyone had heard before. Menish gave into requests for those songs that exaggerated his victory. It gave them hope and they needed to hope. But he became more and more grim. He knew they were expecting a glorified cattle raid, not the destruction of Anthor and probably Relanor as well. But how could he tell them? There was no hope in battle except for a brave death. Even Vorish with his sticks for armies arranged on a board would have no answer to that evil Eye he had seen in the city of the Gashans.
As for Kiveli, Adhara told him afterwards that none of the women at the rite expected it to be effective. He had simply made a fool of himself, and for some reason most of the women had disliked him ever since. So much for giving them hope. And Azkun and Althak had gone chasing after dragons when they could have offered something they could use against Gashan.
Keashil’s songs did cheer him a little. Although she, herself, was often seen to be downcast when she thought she was alone, she was always cheerful when she spoke to Menish. It was as if she did not wish her personal fears to be the concern of anyone else. She was also intelligent and he began including her in the discussions he had with Adhara, Bolythak, Neathy and Drinagish. Once, after one of their meetings, he asked her if anything was troubling her. Was she uncomfortable in Hrangil’s old chamber? It was nothing, she said. When he asked Olcish the boy told her his mother missed Althak.
But winter did not last forever. The North wind grew less bitter, the cattle became less careful of their sheltered valleys. The days began to grow longer again and the land took on a green mantle as spring grass pushed through the warming earth. The clan leaders arrived, as was their custom, to meet with Menish before the spring games.
With spring also came Vorish.
The Emperor had set out a month before with his cavalry. The baggage train had been travelling much longer, but he had caught up with it at the Lansheral as planned and travelled with it to Meyathal. It had taken them several days to cross the river at Kronithal. Holdarish and Mora had shown their son-in-law hospitality while his troops made the crossing.
They were first seen by a rider who was checking one of Menish’s herds to the south of Meyathal, everyone knew the Emperor would arrive any day now. He galloped into Meyathal calling his news to anyone who would hear. The Emperor was coming with his armies, they covered the whole plain like the shadow of a storm cloud. The wealth in horses alone had left the man dazed.
Menish organised an escort to ride out to meet Vorish. He took Adhara and Drinagish with him of course, and Neathy carried his standard since Althak was no longer with them. Menish noticed the pride in Neathy as she rode with the standard unfurled above her. She was one who had liked Althak so she would not be gloating over his fall from favour. But Menish wished he still had Althak to carry his standard again. He was growing more certain that he would die in this battle, and Althak who had rescued him a dozen times would not be there. He missed the Vorthenki’s garish armour, and he missed his ready smile in these grim days.
By the time he reached Vorish he was quite morbid, rather than pleased as he should have been. Even the sight of Vorish’s vast army did nothing to cheer him. But the others of his escort gasped at the size of the Emperor’s army. They had no way of estimating the actual size, though Menish told them there were approximately five thousand heavy cavalry and another ten thousand more lightly armed horsemen, as well as a huge number of wagons light enough to negotiate the Anthorian roads.