The Invisible Chains - Part 3: Bonds of Blood (45 page)

In time of war.”

There was but one thing for it. The father had to try to repair the damage the son had done.

“Where is Lorcko?” he asked.

“I... I don't know,” Ambrick lied. “I wouldn't be surprised, not surprised at all, if he went with them. To be with him.”

His words were dripping with venomous disdain.

“Where did they go to?”

Ambrick made a gesture indicating his lack of certainty.

“The last I saw of them was when they rode away in the direction of the Plains.”

“When?”

“An hour ago, less maybe.”

Volcko stroked his goatee, thinking.

“Right, we're going after them. They can't be that far. We must stop them, before the prince finds out. We've a good chance, what with all the confusion going on.”

Ambrick looked at him, triumph almost leaking out of his eyes.

“Yes, that is an excellent idea, baron. But, wouldn't it be even more expedient to just kill them — not Lorcko, of course. I mean, they will just tell lies to his highness. Dead men don't tell lies.”

Volcko was thinking hard.

“It will also save my dear friend from that unsanitary, misguided involvement,” Ambrick added softly. “And think, baron, what it could mean for your House, eliminating dangerous escapees. His highness would feel obliged to mention it to his father, the high king, I'm sure.”

The more he thought about, the more it sounded reasonable. It was the only way to avert disaster. Yet, something at the back of his mind called out to him to be cautious.

“We'll see about that when we've caught them,” he said. “Let's go.”

Ambrick startled.

“Surely, you're not implying that I should come with you?”

“Oh yes, I am. I barely know what they look like. Who is who. You witnessed it all, so you are going to be my witness as well that I tried to repair the situation. I managed to get in highness's good graces just recently, and I'm still trin hig st weying to figure out how that happened. But, as sure as Murokthil, I'm not going to take any chances to ruin it. You're coming. That's final.”

He called out for his aide de camp.

Illiam listened to the agitated explanation of his general. He knew at once that any and all objections he could make would be waved away. So, he didn't make any.

“Just hold the fort, while I'm away, Illiam,” Volcko said, girding his sword. “With any luck I'll be back before the sun rises. They've only got an hour on us.”

“Surely, we're not going alone?” Ambrick asked.

“No, we're taking six soldiers with us. I can't spare more of the few men on horseback I have. It should be more than enough,” he answered curtly. “Illiam, give the boy a sword, he's coming with me,” he added as an afterthought.

Anaxantis and Lorcko had taken their time returning from the border.

The prince had filled the page in about Timishi and the cutting out. Then he had asked dozens of questions about their customs.

“I must admit I'm surprised, Lorcko,” he said with a mixture of wonder and respect in his voice. “I thought I knew a lot about them and their customs. Like the whole rouwining-thing. But a few things you told me were nevertheless new to me. And you really managed to learn some Muktharesh?”

Lorcko grinned.

“I got a lot of it from Shermy and most expressions are hardly suitable for polite company. Muktharesh has a lot of swear words. A
lot
. Very explicit, detailed, colorful swear words.”

Anaxantis laughed.

“I can imagine,” he said. “Still, that's the second time in two days that the House of Iramid has amazed me.”

“How so, my lord?”

“First you. I like how you've acquitted yourself of the job I gave you. Then your father. Mind you, he did get himself and his regiment lost,” the prince said laughingly, “but I'm told these things happen. More importantly however, when the hour called upon him he answered. He came to the aid of the people of Mirkadesh, and when we met, the lord baron himself was pulling a young woman from under what rested of her house.”

“He's here?”

“Didn't you know? You should go pay him a visit before we leave. Your charges are gone after all.”

“Oh, no. Thank you, but he wouldn't appreciate it. He doesn't want to give the impression that he somehow gives me preferential treatment because I'm his son. We have our set meeting times.”

Anaxantis looked at him with amusement. Lorcko smiled back, partly relieved, mostly contented.

“My father can sometimes surprise you. He regularly baffles me, anyway,” he said.

“Yes, fathers do that,” the prince agreed.

Both young men laughed heartily.

“Now, Lorcko,” Anaxantis said, “if I'm crossing a boundary here, just tell me, but actually I'm dying to know what's the deal with you and Timishi.”

“Oh, you know...” Lorcko began, hesitantly.

“Indulge me. I'm not above some good, old fashioned gossip.”

Lorcko sniggered. He started to like the prince.

“I suppose it all started with that damned mravinshinohr. It didn't work out as I expected. You know, it's the strangest custom— But, of course you do know. How stupid of me.”

The page colored deep red. Anaxantis didn't notice it in the moonlight, but he saw the discomfited expression on his face.

“Yes, yes, indeed I know,” he snickered in his turn. “Don't be embarrassed.”

“He's not at all what you would expect, is he?” Lorcko said, put at ease.

“No, he isn't. You could make far unwiser choices as those things go, Lorcko.”

“Don't I know it,” the page sighed. “Believe me, I've actually made them. The unwise choices, I mean. You must have heard the stories. Or maybe not.”

“I hear things, Lorcko. Maybe not everything, but enough.”

They rode on in silence for a while.

Was it the darkness? It seemed to Lorcko that it made the few years they differed disappear. Nor did his companion seem that much of a prince anymore. He was just someone who listened with a friendly ear.

“I sometimes wonder,” he ventured, “I sometimes wonder if... I mean, Timishi seems to like me.”

“That's about the least you could say. I understand that exchanging personal jewelry has a deep meaning in their culture,” Anaxantis said. “But I fail to see what the problem is.”

“
Oh Gods,”
Lorcko thought. “
Poor Shermy. My brooch. The arms of our House. What must he have been
thinking? Everything I touch...”

“Seriously,” Anaxantis insisted. “What's the problem? It should be clear to you by now that Timishi and his tribe are not the enemy. If anything, they want us to chase their former tribesmen back over the Somertian mountains.”

“Everything I touch seems to turn to dust,” Lorcko said, depressed beyond words.

Anaxantis looked at him.

“Why would you say that?” he asked softly.

Lorcko sighed.

“You know... You know my reputation,” he said at last.

“Yes. Yes, I do. So does Timishi, I suppose. He doesn't seem to care. So why should you?”

“Because I have to live with all those memories. A lot of them. And one way or another it makes me feel as if I don't deserve that anybody should give a damn about me. Let alone love me. Some have gone out of their way to make that point very clear.”

“Hm. Have you learned anything from all this?”

“I hope so.”

“Would you ever use people like that again?”

“No. Nobody deserves to be treated like that.”

Lorcko sounded even more depressed.

“Then why do you still treat people that way?” Anaxantis asked softly.

“What? I don't—”

“Yes, you >

“Huh?”

“Lorcko, you treat yourself like dirt. You made mistakes. That's all.”

Anaxantis shrugged.

“Why?” he continued. “Maybe you didn't know any better. Maybe somebody somehow, or something, led you to believe it was all right. It wasn't. You saw that. You reconsidered and stopped... doing that. Let yourself off the hook already.”

“Is it that simple? That easy?”

“Why not? You're not that person anymore. Let those who have a beef with that guy go look for him and take it up with him. Meanwhile, you... let him go. Let him go in peace.”

“Let him go.” Lorcko repeated.

He took a deep breath and sat upright in his saddle. Could the prince be right? Was that all it would take. Just forgive himself? What a strange thought. Split himself up and let a part go.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “You're very wise, my lord.”

Anaxantis didn't answer. He felt suddenly deeply ashamed.

“Opinions on that may vary, Lorcko. Widely, in fact,” he whispered back.

“
I'm a hypocrite. What am I telling this guy? Let yourself off the hook. You're not that person anymore. You
made mistakes, that's all... So, why should it be true for Lorcko, but not for him? Why can't I let go? Why
can't I let him go? What is it? My oaths? My precious word?”

Lorcko seemed to sense that his companion was far away, deep in a world of his own thoughts, and respected the silence that had fallen between them.

“
Why do I feel it will only be safe to love him when I'm dead?”

It was nine in the morning and Shigurtish had just given the signal to cross the Mirax. The first Mukthar units waded into the water.

It had taken him more than four days to get this far. It was the second day after the raid on Mirkadesh and Khrunosh and his cavalry were waiting on the other side.

The attack on Mirkadesh had been a success from all possible points of view. Their losses had been negligible. Khrunosh had managed to keep his men together. No mean feat seeing as Mukthars were wont to give themselves over to rape and plunder. His half-brother had been wise in not trying to prevent that from happening. After all, every Mukthar saw that as the rightful spoils of the victor. No, he had just given them a limited time frame to do it in. The result was that his cavalry was back in one piece and morale couldn't be higher.

Shigurtish had to admit that Khrunosh made a brilliant second in command.

Not everything had gone as he had planned, though. As long as they had been in Mukthar territory progress had been swift. Everywhere, on their way to the Queneq Pass were stores of food. The last depot before the pass itself contained mainly rations of dried meat. Compact and nourishing. Every man had to carry his own food, sufficient for at least a week, on his back.

The problem had been water. The weather was warm by now and the men got thirsty quickly. Shigurtish had counted on them finding springs, or even wells, at regular intervals, as was the case in their home territory.

Instead theyls, asteaed lost precious time sending scouting parties into the forest. Sometimes they had to collect water from a rivulet. Or from the Mirax. It all took time. Some of the men, who had to wait on the others of their unit, used the time to hunt a little. The result was that when they came back, the others had to wait for
them
. More delays.

He had hoped to reach the crossing point in two days. Instead it had taken him just under five. His only consolation was that the Ximerionian frishiu would have his own problems. That part of the plan had worked as a charm. As predicted, the little prince had stormed to the rescue of Mirkadesh, only to come too late and at the same time dispersing his entire army over a distance of hundred miles. In the wrong direction.

He had hoped to be before the walls of Ghiasht before the Ximerionians could regroup. He had enough men for a three-pronged operation. He would at the same time invest the city, block the main access road to it, and attack the dispersed Ximerionian units in the flank with Khrunosh's cavalry.

His opponent had no other option than to use the roads that ran parallel to his border to try to deliver Ghiasht.