"His Majesty bids Her Majesty, the Lady Commander, to Council."
Anne carefully lifted the squirming bundle from her lap, kissed it, handed it to Elen.
"Be good."
She stood up, went to the door, through it. Leonora, behind her, turned.
"You too."
The door closed. Elaina got up from the floor, went over to Elen, started making faces at the baby.
In the council room, Anne took her seat beside her husband, Leonora at the far end of the long table next to Egil. Of twelve provincial lords, four were present themselves, four more in the person of officer or heir. Stephen spoke.
"Your Majesty. Brand being occupied about urgent affairs, I speak for his province as well as mine."
Anne glanced sidelong at James, doing his best to look as if he believed in the urgent affairs; under the table her hand found his. Her father was speaking.
"My brother has been ill all winter. His son is east with the Maril, learning his trade. I speak for fen and vale."
The other lords remained silent; finally the King spoke.
"Gentles, I called Council to profit by the presence of so many guests. My best news you all know. I have a daughter, my lady wife is well."
Estfen looked as if he would say something, didn't.
"Our borders are quiet. Word from the Empire has His Majesty ailing, the succession in doubt, the princes gathering supporters, shifting troops—Second Prince to the western province, where he's governor. Trouble there should be peace here. Yet . . ." He turned to Stephen.
"You all know the ford where the North Road crosses Borderflood. They are building something on their side. Men, wagons, timber. Not a large army, but more troops than common. Perhaps a fort."
The King looked around the room. It was Egil who spoke.
"So far as the Empire, our word the same as yours. Maybe they fear you will attack them?"
The King looked startled.
"A fort commanding the ford would make it harder for us to take advantage of civil war their side of the border." It was Estfen who spoke, Stephen who responded.
"A month before Harald can bring his host over the Northgate. So they build now."
"If they expect a civil war, wouldn't they have more urgent things to do—each side gathering forces?" That was the Queen. For a moment nobody responded. Finally the Lady Commander spoke.
"I distrust all accounts of Imperial politics. Believe the old man's failing when we have word of his funeral—from at least three witnesses. But it's early in the year for an invasion. Soldiers need to eat. Horses too. Bad time of the year to ford Borderflood."
The Council fell silent. When it became clear that nobody had more to add, talk turned to other subjects.
Anne leaned over, whispered to the King:
"I think our daughter has more need of me than our lords."
She went out. A few minutes later, the door opened again.
"Mother. Rider from Caralla, urgent."
Leonora glanced at the King; he nodded.
"Bring her in."
Splashed with mud, swaying with weariness, leaning on Elaina's arm. The Lady looked across the room at Leonora.
"Caralla. A bridge. Building."
"The Lady Caralla sends word that the Empire is bridging the Borderflood where the North Road crosses it?"
She nodded. Leonora spoke to her daughter.
"You were right to bring this to Council. Take care of her, get her to bed. You and Kara ready to ride in the morning." She turned back to the King.
"We have our answer."
Stephen was the first to break the silence.
"I ride in the morning too. Can you send a courier to Brand with messages?"
The King nodded, thought a moment.
"Brand and Stephen, with what help the Lady Commander can provide, can observe the enemy, perhaps harass the crossing. But if they come in force we will need more."
"Our host, the royal forces, half the provinces—that's as much as we can feed this early in the year." That was Leonora. "Messengers out tomorrow morning. By my counsel, the kingdom host to assemble on the plain west of here, near the North road. Garrisons to your northern keeps. Our host to North Province, with levies of North and River."
The King looked soberly around the room.
"I have seen few battles, ordered none. The Lady Commander has been at the business thirty years and more. Saving your counsel, I am minded to take hers."
There was a long silence. The King spoke again.
"Then be it so. Birds to the far south and east, riders elsewhere. Have you other counsel to give us before you ride North, Lady?"
Leonora looked at him, thought a moment, spoke.
"By your leave I stay here, ride with your host when it assembles. I know what the next weeks will be and my bones are too old for it. Caralla will command in the North."
Egil stood up.
"By Your Majesty's leave?"
"Of course; you must be elsewhere?"
"In Eston."
Egil went out. The King looked curious, said nothing; Leonora took pity on him.
"There are always a few cats staying the winter. Eston taverns are open late."
James thought a moment.
"Speaking of cats, should we send a bird to Harald with the news? The pass is closed, but still . . . This may mean they are moving against him as well."
"Yes."
Four days later Stephen reached his hold, spent a busy day, then headed north and east. Caralla, accompanied by most of her octave, her sister and Kara, met his party on the road half a day south of the river. Stephen's men pitched a tent, posted sentries, the Ladies a wider ring of scouts. Inside the tent, Stephen and Caralla.
"You know that Mother has given the field command to me?"
"Nothing's forever. I ache after a day's riding; 'Nora's ten years older. Maybe more. Besides, King means well, took lessons from the best—but a few weeks doesn't make a general. I'll be happier knowing she's there."
"Brand will follow you; it's us."
Stephen nodded.
"What do you have?"
"Two hundred and fifty odd—four tataves. Mother sent word out, should be close to a thousand in a week. The rest longer. You?"
"My levy is six hundred, Brand's five. But I have to get my people safe into the hills before the Imperials show up and start killing them. Hard to do if the able-bodied men are all off fighting."
"If you have most of them, how long will it take?"
"Clear the path I think they take south. Get folk farther out up to the hills with enough food to keep them alive. Help garrison Markholt, Grayholt, get them set to stand siege . . . I can do most of it in a week, but more time would help. Started already."
"You think they'll siege the holds?"
"Siege or storm. Don't you?"
She nodded.
"Early spring, food's a problem for everyone. Worse problem for them—they have to get it south to the army, keep getting it. Can't leave garrisons sitting on their supply lines."
She thought for a minute.
"We have a day, maybe more, before they cross; been doing our best to slow the bridge. The legions are camped half a day's march north of the river, hoping we won't see them. Send me a hundred heavies, more when you can. I think I can buy you a week, with luck two."
A mile north, Elaina watched Kara emerge from the tangle of brush and small trees that marked a creek bed. Closer, what she was holding was a rabbit.
"I still don't understand how you do that."
"Why I didn't take you yesterday."
"That wasn't rabbits."
"You hunt rabbits, don't catch them. Imperials, they catch you. Like you better in one piece. I caught it, you skin it."
She retrieved the cloak from her tethered horse, wrapped herself up in it, went to sleep.
Gavin, sitting his horse while the columns formed up, turned to his second.
"Archers this side of the river. Sixth across, fifty yards in, field entrench."
Kyro saluted, rode over to the officer commanding the archers.
"Orders. Your people along the north bank. Sixth is crossing, Commander wants them covered just in case."
"High time."
While the archers took positions along the river bank, Kyro rode back to the sixth legion's banner, its commander standing beside it.
"Commander's orders. Your boys over the bridge, fifty yards, then start digging. Archers cover from this side."
"It's only two hours past noon—we could make camp ten miles in."
Kyro met the officer's eyes, shrugged, rode back, saluted Gavin.
"Orders delivered."
Three hours later, with the sixth across, spread out, dug in, the archers started to cross, interspersed with units of the seventh legion, shields up to protect both. A messenger, returning by small boat, reported a few wounded, no deaths, from archers at the top of the ridge.
It was an hour before dark when Gavin, accompanied by the commander of his heavy cavalry, rode up to the ridge, seized by the legions a half hour earlier.
"If you want the next ridge, my boys can get there a lot faster than the turtles got here."
Gavin stood silent a moment, looking south down the slope. The trampled grass was the only sign of enemies. He shook his head.
"Council, my tent, after dinner."
In the tent, servants passed goblets of wine to the commanders of the two legions, the two cavalry commanders, Kyro. When all had been served, the commander spoke.
"Two hours back, Ivor offered to ride over to the next ridge and take it. Might be he could. Might be we'd be fighting the rest of the campaign without him and his boys. Some of you think I'm taking things too slow. I've seen one of Harald's battles—one too many—my left arm still aches when it's cold. Studied the others. There's a lot to be said for being careful."
Ivor looked up, surprised. "I thought the Valeslord was on the far side of the mountains keeping Artos awake. Wasn't that half the point of moving so early, before the pass is open?"
"The pass is closed, but that's not to say which side he's on. The wife of the Karl's king, Harald's ally, was brought to bed a few weeks back. He might have stayed the winter to welcome it. I wouldn't spend winter in the mountains if I had a choice.
"I hope he's Artos's problem. Anyone hear what Artos said when he got the news, last time we crossed south?"
Kyro nodded, hesitated, spoke.
"He said Harald was a sorcerer. His special trick is making armies disappear."
"Not this one. We're all the army His Highness has, pretty near, and I plan to bring it back to him. Hope to bring news we hold the Karls' border holds, but I'm not taking chances. The first step is to assume Harald Haraldsson might be out there somewhere, planning to include us in one of his magic tricks. Council dismissed; see you in the morning."
Two miles south Caralla was holding her own council. In the fading light she could still see the horses of her scouts, tethered just below the top of the next ridge north.
"Ladies, Captain. Nobody killed on either side today, far as we know. Empire spent a day getting from the north shore of the river to the first ridge south. That pace, they get to Markholt by midsummer.
"Killing people isn't our job, not this week, odds ten to one against. Buy time for Stephen to get his people safe, the King to call up levies, reinforce his holds. Buy it cheap. Look dangerous, stay out of trouble. Lots of almost battles. Questions?"
Stephen's captain was the first to speak.
"Your archers can set up on a ridge top, harass the enemy, outrange their archers at the bottom, run when the legions get close. What you did today. We're lancers—province archers are heading for the holds. We hit them, they can hit us. What are we good for?"
"Part you did today, riding around the far slope of that ridge over there making tracks. They'll know we have heavies, maybe a lot. Make them cautious.
"One of these days their commander might get impatient, call our bluff. We run, they want to catch us, have to use light cavalry. Get far enough from the legions and their Belkhani heavies, we smash them. Commander slows down again. Drill it tomorrow morning, waiting for Imperials to show up."
She looked around the circle. Kara, by invitation, was sitting on a stone between two of the captains.
"Kara. Some here came in after your report. Tell us again what you saw north of the river."
"Two legions, sixth and seventh, looked like full strength. Belkhani heavies, maybe a thousand. Leatherbacks, more, two thousand at a guess. I don't know where from, not Westkin. Lots of transport—I counted twenty wagons. Mules. More still coming in, wagons and men. The commander's flag looks like a gameboard, blue and gold."
"Archers? Lights?" That was Stephen's captain.
"Not in camp."
One of the Order captains cut in. "The archers are camped by the river. A thousand easy, maybe twice that."
Caralla spoke slowly. "Not enough."
"Speaking for myself, rather fewer than more." That was Stephen's man.
"Last time, eight or nine thousand—and they thought they were coming into a civil war, Andrew's people on their side. This time six or seven. They know we don't have cats—wish to hell I did. Still seems light."
Kara spoke. "The day I watched, two or three cacades came in, two wagons."
One of the Ladies looked up.
"The flag is Gavin. He's the First Prince's man. Sixth used to be his."
Downslope, voices. She recognized one of them, was on her feet when Egil arrived. He stopped, looked at Caralla, sketched the Imperial salute.
"Egil Haraldsson reporting in, Commander."
"Idiot. I don't suppose you brought any friends?"
"Every cat in Eston—two decades. Made enemies of a lot of tavern keepers."
"Just what I needed. Consider yourself scout commander for Hrolf's army."
"Uncle's here with an army?"
"You're it. Two decades. Enough for Father to siege a castle with. Scouts do their job, nobody has to see the rest of the army. Or not. Borrow an octave or two if you need them."