Wolf's Blood (57 page)

Pelland, which also shared a border with aggressive Hearthome. should have had a similar complaint but did not for two reasons. For one, Pelland’s inherited status as a land ruled by those who could claim descent from the former rulers of the continent had made Hearthome less than enthusiastic about confronting her openly, at least until she had secured her other border. Pelland also had a highly regarded military tradition. If these days her soldiers were more likely to march in parades than go into battle, this did not mean they would not fight if the need arose.

That, at least, was what King Bryessidan assumed, based on reports sent to him by his own diplomatic corp. If Hearthome took Azure Towers, then subduing the relatively unarmed Kingdom of the Mires should be simple. Then, with almost half a continent’s backing, Pelland would fall.

Except,
Bryessidan thought, carefully hiding his amusement,
that Pelland has a second advantage, one that counts far more than her inherited prestige. Their king’s drug-shaded dreams include those from a past where his ancestors ruled by strength of arms as well as magical lore. When magic became anathema, he and his ancestors chose to emphasize the martial virtues, as if by doing so they could make everyone forget how much they once relied on magic to hold their power. Of us all, General Aurick has the best and strongest army. I suspect he will be my rival for command.

The last three of the allied nations were not as militarily powerful as the first three, but each had something to offer. Tishiolo, relatively isolated on the far side of the mountains on the eastern side of the continent, had little reason to maintain an army against her neighbor nations. However, the rough land gave haven to numerous ferocious beasts, and as a result even the most stolid farmer tended to have some skill with bow and spear. Additionally, Tishiolo’s trade in drugs meant that she maintained a solid border guard against those who might decide to negotiate other than in the marketplace for her goods.

Tavetch had already provided much of the fleet, and many of the marines, but King Hurwin had left behind sufficient men and women with some military training that their gate could participate in the invasion. Moreover, like Pelland, Tavetch had a strong military tradition. Indeed, the less charitable said the Tavetchians followed the professions of pirates and raiders. Bryessidan, having learned something of the typical coming-of-age rituals practiced by the Tavetchian court, was not about to argue.

Finally, there was u-Chival. The powerful theocracy that reigned in that southern land had little need for a police force to control their people. In the five deities they worshipped, they had far more powerful means of influencing their people. However, although the u-Chivalum claimed to hold uncontested rule of the small continent on which they were situated, this was far from true. The name they gave their military body might translate as “Protectors,” but Bryessidan’s ambassadors had reported that the Protectors were quite capable of aggression as well.

But I don’t think any of the others will want Aridisdu Valdala to hold overall command,
Bryessidan thought a trace anxiously, for the u-Chivalum force as Valdala had described it in her report was impressive
. The majority of us are Pellanders in heritage, and would be uncomfortable being told to direct our troops according to the commands of strange deities.

The discussion of who would supply what was finally settled and Bryessidan was wondering how he could raise the question of appointing a commander in chief when Fromalf of Tavetch, King Hurwin’s representative, did so for him.

“That was onerous.” Fromalf said, making as if to wipe sweat from his brow, “even if necessary. However, I think it raises one matter we have not yet addressed—that of who will command our joined forces once we have crossed through the gates and secured a foothold on the Nexus Islands.”

“Do we need such a commander?” asked Talianas of Tishiolo somewhat predictably.

“I believe we do,” cut in Aurick of Pelland, straightening and looking every inch a general. “In my experience, most battles are lost not because the soldiers are inept, but because troops are used unwisely.”

“Still,” Talianas protested, “what type of resistance can we expect? Our own Once Dead estimate that the local population cannot be more than a hundred or so. Based upon what we have already discussed, we will outnumber them ten to one—and that is without the fleet.”

Aridisdu Valdala frowned. “The omens are very uncertain on the matter of numbers in the resistance. When some questions are asked—specifically about the number of adult humans we may face—the numbers are close to those you have named. However, when more general questions are asked, such as how strong a resistance we will face or do our enemies have allies we have not anticipated, then the deities do not reply nearly as clearly. We must take great care. I, for one, would rather report to my seniors that we had worried too much than apologize for the loss of life that will come from our planning too little.”

“I agree,” said Merial of Azure Towers and Kynan of Hearthome almost with one voice.

The two generals looked so surprised at finding themselves agreeing about anything that Bryessidan had to swallow a chuckle.

“I also agree,” Bryessidan said with what he hoped wasn’t too much eagerness. “In any case, no matter how greatly our forces will eventually outnumber those of the Nexans, initially we will be no more than fourteen—and no matter how closely we time our assault, the likelihood is that some pair will find themselves alone, even if only briefly.”

“A good point,” Fromalf said. “I believe that whoever is chosen as commander in chief should be willing to be among the first pair to cross through his or her gate so that the commander will be present to coordinate the actions of all as they cross.”

“The second pair, perhaps,” countered Aurick. “My tactical simulations suggest that it would be best if the first pair to cross are both warriors armed with bows or some other distance weapon.”

“The second pair, perhaps,” Fromalf said affably. “Of course, there is no rule saying that the commander could not be an armed warrior.”

“But who should hold this central command?” Kynan asked peevishly.

He must have already guessed it would not be him. Merial would refuse to take orders from him, as he would from her. Byressidan looked over at Aurick, and found himself being studied in turn.

Fromalf shifted deliberately in his seat, as if considering each of the seven generals in turn. Then he nodded seriously.

“I think that rather than asking ourselves who should hold this central command, we should be asking ourselves who can be spared from commanding his or her own forces, for that is what that general would need to do.”

Aurick of Pelland frowned at this, but in thought rather than anger. He had spent a great deal of time detailing how well trained his forces were, how they frequently played war games against each other, and as a result had prearranged plans for almost any type of situation.

Is he wondering if he is willing to give over his carefully trained force to a subordinate? I suspect that he would find commanding a hodgepodge such as the invasion force very frustrating.

Aurick, however, said nothing, and Fromalf resumed.

“I, for one, would be reluctant to relinquish immediate control over those soldiers King Hurwin has entrusted to me. Frankly, as I noted before, our most skilled warriors are with the fleet. The men and women I have are technically good, but I think they will need a firm hand to keep them in line.”

Aridisdu Valdala nodded. “Even without asking the deities for omens, I can see a candidate emerging for this difficult post. Let us be honest. Both myself and General Aurick have trained forces that will respond best to commands and tactics they know. For precisely the opposite reason, General Fromalf is reluctant to lose direct command of his forces.

“Honesty also forces us to recognize that neither General Aurick or General Merial will readily accept commands from one or the other. That leaves us with King Bryessidan or General Talianas of Tishiolo. King Bryessidan has never commanded an army, but he does come from a martial heritage. General Talianas also has not commanded an army.”

“And I have no wish to command this one,” Talianas said. “My soldiers, such as they are, are like those General Fromalf will command. My hill hunters and border guards will need a firm hand over them. Their ways are far different from the orderly carnage practiced by trained armies. They are fierce—none fiercer, I would dare boast—but they are likely to give way to looting and rapine if they are not aware they must answer to someone.”

“Don’t catch an arrow then,” General Aurick said dryly, and Bryessidan thought the wry twist of his lip meant the opposite. “I should hate to have need to turn my troops against allies, and while it is important that we take the Nexus Islands, we cannot forget that their inhabitants—at least some of them—are valuable resources in turn.”

Fromalf looked at Bryessidan, his gaze so level and so serious that had Bryessidan not half suspected that Fromalf was following orders left by King Hurwin, he would have thought the man genuinely regretted the request he was about to make.

“What of it, King Bryessidan? Are you willing to accept command of these seven allied forces? It will mean leaving direction of your forces to another.”

Bryessidan schooled his features to seriousness, although in reality he wanted to grin in triumph at achieving what he had so intensely desired.

“I believe I can delegate.” he said slowly, turning those arguments he had prepared when he thought he would need to debate his fitness before this body to another use. “Much of my force consists of medical personnel. As we have already discussed, they will also be of the most use holding the various gate points, rather than surging forth into battle. Therefore, they will remain under my eye.”

“You have no real combat experience,” General Merial said. Her mien was serious, but Bryessidan did not feel she doubted him. Rather she was asking him to consider this matter in case he had not. “I assure you. Real bloodshed is far different from war games.”

“I know this,” Bryessidan said. He decided that bringing up his father’s war himself would be far better than letting another do so. “I was too young to serve as a soldier in the last war, but I tended the wounded when they were brought back to the Mires. I also toured battlefields, for my father thought this a necessary part of my education. Finally, I know all too well the price of failure. I will not let this venture fail!”

He thought his determination had impressed the others. Certainly, no one objected when Fromalf suggested the matter be put to a silent vote.

“We’ll make it simple,” Fromalf said, passing around sets of colored marbles. “Red if you favor King Bryessidan for the command; blue if you favor further debate.”

Bryessidan appreciated Fromalf’s tact, even as he wished the man had not had such foresight. He would have enjoyed an opportunity to have members of his staff analyze handwritten ballots, especially those that did not nominate him. In that way, he would have a fair idea who favored him and who did not.

But it turned out that such subtlety would have been wasted. When Fromalf spilled out the marbles, there was not a single blue among them.

“Very well, King Bryessidan,” Fromalf said, rolling the marbles into the bag and tying it off with satisfaction. “You are elected commander in chief of the gate invasion force. Are there any matters of business you would like to discuss?”

Bryessidan recovered quickly from his momentary astonishment, surprised to find his goal so easily won.

“As a matter of fact.” he said smoothly, turning to his secretary and accepting a sheaf of notes, “there is. We have discussed a great deal, but I think certain matters of tactics need to be refined, most particularly, how we will handle the presence of iron and its limiting factors on our Once Dead. Shall we begin there?”

“I have some thoughts,” General Aurick said quickly.

Bryessidan listened to the man droning on, covering ground Bryessidan himself had already examined. He let his thoughts drift for one delightful moment.

I did it, Gidji! I did it, Father! With this invasion the prestige of the Mires will be redeemed, and then when we command the gates once more … and then …

He smiled and focused his attention on the discussion at hand, head held high, as if he already wore the crown of an emperor.

FIREKEEPER AWOKE FROM what she knew was not a dream, wishing it had been a dream, and feeling just a bit cheated that apparently she was not to be permitted peace even when she was asleep.

Love! Who was the Meddler to speak of loving her? What did he know of her? This was hardly the first such declaration she had encountered. There had been her foster brother, Edlin, then the wolf Dark Death, each seeing in her not what she was, but what they idealized her to be. The one Firekeeper herself loved the most had spoken far less about his own feelings for her, but she knew he was with her, and wherever he was, her back was safe.

She looked over at the wolf, his blue eyes now closed in sleep. His nose was pointing toward her so that she could smell his breath and feel its soft caress. The scent was surprisingly sweet, for all that he dined on raw meat and fish. His were good teeth, young and strong, and his belly was sweet with resolution.

Blind Seer looked so completely at rest that for a moment Firekeeper felt a moment of resentment.
He
didn’t have strange spirits declaring their love for him in his sleep! He wasn’t denied the imaginary retreat of dreams!

Then she looked at Blind Seer more closely, noticed how his ears twitched and his paws moved just a little. She wondered if she really knew anything at all about what Blind Seer thought or dreamed. She remembered the vision the Meddler had shown her. and mused over what odd game Blind Seer might be pursuing.

She shifted herself upright. She could smell dawn, damp and not so far away. Here and there a songbird chirped a scattered note or two. not certain whether to welcome daylight or to tuck head under wing and sleep a bit more. For herself, Firekeeper knew. She was awake. and wouldn’t be sleeping again.