Nelesquin pointed to the flying beast. “That is a jarandaki, and I mean it for use in scouting. I supposed a couple of archers could be put in a saddle on its back, but they would have to master shooting while in a swoop.”
Keerana recovered himself and nodded. “It would not do for them to shoot the jarandaki in the wing.”
“No, not at all. The nice thing about them is that they will provide perspective on a battle. Had Gachin had a scout up on one, he would have known of the ambush that took his troops.”
“It is possible, Master, but even with that knowledge, he might not have reacted correctly.” Keerana bowed his head. “Those who fight beneath the Ram Crest are often given to vainglorious displays. Gachin might have dismissed the threat, or assigned a subordinate to deal with it.”
Nelesquin regarded his warlord closely. “You would not make such a mistake?”
“I could not, Master. I do not serve myself; I serve you. To fall prey to such an ambush would be an abrogation of my duty. My service to you is paramount.”
“Have you determined your strategy for taking Tsatol Deraelkun?”
“My plans shall be revised to account for the wonders aboard the ships, Master, but I have studied the matter and have worked out a strategy.” His eyes became keen. “To win Tsatol Deraelkun’s wall one must attack strongly at a single point. Relentless pounding will win through at least the first set of walls.”
“But if you attack that way, you allow your enemy to slip a force out to harass your flanks.”
“So I cannot allow myself to be flanked.” The warrior gestured toward the black ships on the river. “I will deploy my forces in depth. An attack against my flank will be repulsed by an attack against the enemy’s flank. With the jarandaki, signaling between units will be much easier and more direct. If the rider carries a flag aloft, he will be able to communicate information between the units.”
Nelesquin clapped his hands. “Brilliant. Your attack must be relentless and swift.”
“I beg your pardon, Master, but it is likely to be one or the other.”
The Prince frowned. “Enlighten me.”
“The line between swift and haste is thin. So is the line between relentless and obdurate. To move fast is to surrender flexibility. Relentlessness can become stubborn support for strategies that are not effective. I would not waste your troops, Master, in an effort unworthy of you and incapable of victory.”
“Yet is there not a chance that by remaining too flexible you will refuse to push at a time when one more effort would carry the day?”
Keerana’s expression hardened. “A coward might, Master.”
Nelesquin nodded approvingly. “And you are no coward. Good. And flexibility means you will employ my gift to you in the proper way.”
“Have no fear, Master, Tsatol Deraelkun shall fall. It is your will, and I am the instrument of your will.”
“Exactly.”
The two horsemen headed off into the forest, letting the kasphani draw the ships toward Kelewan. They passed through a vale and crested a low hill. Nelesquin reined back quickly, while the Durrani rode forward and interposed himself between the cloaked figure which revealed itself on the road and the Prince.
Nelesquin snarled. “Why do you play at this game, Kaerinus? I find you lurking, and Keerana is again prepared to kill you.”
The sorcerer smiled and turned toward them, holding out a hand. A black-and-emerald butterfly clung to one finger. Kaerinus smiled, then puffed breath at it. The insect took flight and quickly vanished in the branches above.
“It is not out of disrespect, Prince Nelesquin, but urgency.” The vanyesh shrugged. “I have spent so much time away that I sometimes forget Imperial manners. Wonderful creatures you have there. I pray the winged ones do not eat my butterflies.”
“They prefer somewhat bigger prey.” Nelesquin rode around Keerana. “What is so urgent?”
“Do you recall, my Prince, Mount Shanfa in Moryth?”
“You know I do.” Nelesquin glanced back at Keerana. “It was a nasty place, dark and dismal, a stone thorn shoved up through the world’s flesh. Virisken Soshir spent much time there.”
“I recall the place from my brief campaign in the Five Princes.” Keerana nodded slowly. “This tells me much of value.”
“Good.” Nelesquin returned his attention to Kaerinus. “What of that place? I’d sooner forget it than remember.”
“Then you are in luck, my Prince.” Kaerinus pointed to the south. “There have been reports. The mountain is gone.”
Chapter Thirteen
30th day, Month of the Hawk, Year of the Rat
Last Year of Imperial Prince Cyron’s Court
163rd Year of the Komyr Dynasty
737th Year since the Cataclysm
Tsatol Deraelkun, County of Faeut
Erumvirine
The army that came to destroy Tsatol Deraelkun was not what I had expected. I was not foolish enough to imagine that my half brother would bring the same army he had led ages ago when we fought a mock battle for our father’s pleasure. Of course, our father had not bothered to watch. Even if he had, he’d not have noticed how Nelesquin and I strove against each other.
We’d not come to hate one another yet.
I stood at a tower window with Count Derael seated in his wheeled chair beside me. “I believe you are right, my lord-the hammer-headed ape creatures are meant to hurl stones as a catapult might. The other long-armed ones are climbers. The bony shield around their necks covers their shoulders as they scale the walls.”
His voice did not waver despite the tremor running through his limbs. “They’re very pale and have no eyes to speak of. They must operate by scent. We can deal with that.”
I glanced down at him. “I imagine they will scent-mark the walls. Something hurled.”
He turned his face up at me, surprise flashing there for a heartbeat before his general fatigue returned his face to impassiveness. “Did you not notice the little white things, over there, on the left in the shadow of the woods?”
I looked. “I’d taken them for sheep, my lord, though they have the body of spiders.”
“Yes, and their wool is spun webbing, ready for deployment. Given how the climbers are segregated from the woolspiders, but keep sniffing when the breeze blows across, I suspect the climbers eat them.” Count Derael inhaled laboriously. “The woolspiders will be sent against us. When we kill them, their ichor will mark the battlements and perhaps even drive the climbers into a frenzy.”
“And then the kwajiin come.” I slowly shook my head. The invaders had assembled nine thousand warriors and had their entire force arrayed against the southeastern corner of the fortress. A conventional army would have found that approach difficult. The only suitable staging area for siege machines was at the edge of their range and below the castle’s ground level. While they could still hit the walls, it would take a long time to bring them down, and then the troops would have to race uphill to engage the defenders.
“Do you see any tunneling beasts, Master Soshir?”
“No, but that does not surprise me, either.” I crossed my arms. “Nelesquin had no great love of tunnels after we scoured a Viruk labyrinth of pirates. He was lost for a time, and once we had destroyed the pirates, he wanted nothing more to do with tunnels.”
“And yet, because this prejudice is known to you, I must assume he has worked against it.” The man’s eyes burned intensely. “This complicates the defense of our home.”
“It cannot stand.”
“This I know, Master Soshir.” He twitched a hand to the right, and the gesture seemed to exhaust him. “If you could turn me to the maps.”