‘That might even be more valuable than light,’ Narasan said. Then he looked at Dahlaine. ‘This isn’t really any of my business,’ he said, ‘but you don’t feel hot and cold in the same way that we do, do you?’
‘I know that they exist,’ Dahlaine replied. ‘I think I see where you’re going with this, Narasan. It’s not a bad idea, now that you mention it. If my pet gives you and your men light and heat, you’ll be able to go much farther each day, won’t you?’
‘I’d say at least an extra five miles,’ Narasan estimated. ‘Possibly even an extra seven or eight.’ Then he winced. ‘That might just disturb my men quite a bit, though.’
‘I didn’t quite follow you there, Narasan.’
‘Ten miles a day is one of the articles of faith in a Trogite army, Lord Dahlaine. Individual soldiers could exceed that, I’m sure, but when they’re marching together, ten miles is the limit. Anything any farther is viewed as an abomination. It’s a custom, and we Trogites are big on customs.’ He shrugged. ‘It actually grows out of the inevitable delays that keep cropping up when you’re moving a hundred thousand men.’
‘Wouldn’t you say that “rest time” has something to do with the ten miles a day limitation, Commander?’ Andar suggested.
‘Rest time?’ Dahlaine asked.
‘Another custom, Lord Dahlaine,’ Narasan explained. ‘We’re expected to give our men a quarter of each hour spent marching to catch their breath. It makes a certain amount of sense in mountain country, but it’s a bit foolish on flat land.’ His eyes hardened. ‘I think it might just be time to abolish that foolishness. If we can add an extra few miles to each day’s march, we’ll almost certainly reach the east coast of your Domain several days earlier than we’d originally planned. I’d say that it’s worth a try. Then too, if it’s warmer, we won’t have to worry too much about blizzards, will we?’
Dahlaine grinned. ‘It might make them a little sulky,’ he said, ‘but I think I’ll be able to make them quit pouting. Let’s see how far my pet can go. I don’t think we’ll want mid-summer, but early autumn might be sort of nice.’
‘Whatever you think best, Lord Dahlaine,’ Narasan said.
‘You’re very good at putting all sorts of things together, Narasan,’ Dahlaine observed.
‘That’s what an army-commander is supposed to do, Lord Dahlaine. Our people come up with all kinds of ideas, and we’re supposed to fit them together to construct a plan that might work. There are many people in my army who are much more clever than I am, but that doesn’t hurt my feelings very much. My job involves putting their assorted ideas together to come up with something that’ll work and won’t get too many of my men killed.’
‘Aren’t you just a little bit out of uniform, Padan?’ Andar asked his friend as they set out early the following day.
‘I’m supposed to look like a Maag,’ Padan explained. ‘Narasan suggested it to Sorgan. The Maags aren’t too good at defending cities – burning, yes; defending, no. I’ll stay in the background so Aracia’s priesthood won’t recognize me, and I’ll give Sorgan details when he needs them. The idea is to have us put something together that’ll look enough like a fort to deceive the priests into believing that we’ve come up with something impregnable. I’m not as good as Gunda when it comes to building forts, but I should be able to come up with something that looks like a fort.’
‘Right up until the wind starts blowing,’ Andar said.
‘Be nice,’ Padan said. Then he scratched at his cheek.
‘Problems?’ Andar asked.
‘Sorgan suggested that I should let my whiskers grow. He said that most Maags wear beards, and if I want to look Maagish, I should get a bit more shaggy. He didn’t bother to tell me that the thing itches all the time.’
‘Maags might not notice that, Padan,’ Andar replied with a faint smile. ‘You’d think that people who live out at sea would bathe more often. I’d almost be willing to bet that the Maags are the native home of fleas and lice.’
‘You’re in a grumpy sort of mood today, Andar.’
‘Homesick, I suppose,’ Andar admitted. ‘I miss Kaldacin. It’s corrupt and it doesn’t smell too good, but it is home.’
‘If Lord Dahlaine’s correct, this will be the last war here in the Land of Dhrall. There’s only one path left open to the creatures of the Wasteland. Once this last one’s closed off, we’ll all be able to go on back home and sit around counting all the lovely money we’ve picked up here.’
‘It’ll be a lot cleaner now that the Church of Amar has been eliminated,’ Andar added. ‘I don’t know if you noticed the similarities between the priests of “Holy Aracia” and the high-ranking clergymen of the Church of Amar.’
‘They’re all fat, if that’s what you mean,’ Padan agreed. ‘Did I ever get around to congratulating you for that horror story you foisted off on the fat priest called Bersla?’
‘There was a certain amount of truth involved, Padan,’ Andar protested. ‘We’ve all heard stories about the famines that show up every so often. When people are starving, they do sometimes revert to cannibalism – except that they’ll eat people who are already dead. I was fairly sure that the prospect of being eaten alive might frighten Bersla enough that he’d start paying attention to what was happening out in the real world.’
‘The fact that his hair was standing straight up and his eyes were bulging out of their sockets sort of hints that he was getting your point.’
‘We can hope, I suppose. His sense of his own superiority rubbed me the wrong way. He behaves as if the common people of Aracia’s Domain were nothing more than cattle whose only purpose in life is to feed him, and Aracia’s mind has slipped so far that she believes just about anything he ever tells her.’
‘I hate to admit this – again—’ Padan said, ‘but I think Keselo’s scheme might be the best one any of us will ever come up with. If Sorgan sends out scouts and they report back that the bug-people are coming and that they’re awful, I’m fairly sure that all those fat priests will try to take cover, and they’ll all be so far down in the basement that they won’t have any idea of what’s really happening. If they’re all busy hiding, they won’t even know that Sorgan’s been tearing down certain parts of the temple to build that wall.’
Now that Dahlaine’s little toy sun was giving them much more daylight – as well as warmer weather – the combined armies were making much better time than they’d made during that first dreadful day, so they reached the low mountain range off to the east much sooner than any of them had thought possible.
The worn-down range of mountains had a familiar quality that Andar found rather pleasant. In many ways they were very much like the mountains off to the south of Kaldacin, so Andar found them to be quite beautiful. They weren’t as rugged and imposing as the mountains in the Domains of Zelana, Veltan and Dahlaine had been. The young scholar, Keselo, had told them that mountains were much like people. As they grew older, their rough edges were worn down by the passing years, and they were much gentler.
‘I think this is far enough for today,’ Commander Narasan announced. Tut the men to work setting up camp. We’ll be splitting up tomorrow, so it might not be a bad idea to talk things over before we’re separated.’
‘Good idea,’ Dahlaine agreed. ‘Longbow told us that he was going to lead the Tonthakans, Matans, and the Malavi horse-soldiers south along this mountain range to the upper end of Long-Pass while the Trogites and Maags go over to the coast to sail south. That’s the way we decided to do this back at Mount Shrak, and I don’t see any reason to change things.’
‘You didn’t tell him, I take it,’ Ekial the Malavi said to the bleak-faced Longbow.
‘I didn’t really want to alarm him – or his sister, Zelana,’ Longbow replied.
‘Alarm?’ Zelana asked the archer. ‘What are you up to now?’
‘I will be leading the others, Zelana,’ Longbow replied, ‘but I’ll be quite some distance ahead of them. Kathlak, Ekial, and Two-Hands know where they’re going, so they won’t need me around to keep pointing them south. I’ll go on ahead and make sure that the creatures of the Wasteland haven’t reached these mountains yet. Then I’ll go on down Long-Pass to the sea. I’ll probably be there when the ships arrive, and I’ll be able to pass along anything I’ve seen to our friends.’
‘That’s too much of a risk,’ Zelana declared. ‘You can’t just run around by yourself like that.’
‘You can come along, if you’d like,’ Longbow told her with a faint smile. ‘Somebody has to go ahead – somebody who knows enough about the servants of the Vlagh to know what he’s looking for. That means me, Zelana. I know more about the Creatures of the Wasteland than anybody else does, and I know exactly what I’ll have to do to stay out of their sight. I’ve been doing this for a long, long time, Zelana, so I won’t be in any real danger.’
‘You’re going to insist, I take it?’ Zelana said.
‘I thought I just did. You worry too much, Zelana. It’ll make you old if you’re not careful.’
‘I’m already old,’ she snapped.
‘But you don’t want it to show, now do you? I’ll be just fine, Zelana. I know what has to be done and how to do it. Nobody else does, so I’ll have to do it myself.’ He looked around at the others. ‘I know that many of you would like to help, but you’d just be in my way. I’ll see you down at the mouth of Long-Pass in a few days, my friends,’ he said, and then he turned and ran smoothly off to the south. Andar was quite certain that Longbow’s decision had grown perhaps more out of his desire to be alone. Longbow didn’t really like – or need – other people around him. He was definitely the most solitary man Andar had ever encountered.
2 (#ulink_0af66af2-d2d2-5b69-b6d0-c21c22199477)
Andar had been careful to keep his opinion of the warrior queen Trenicia strictly to himself, of course, but she was always there when he needed to speak with the Commander. It wasn’t that she ever interfered or anything like that, but just her presence made Andar uncomfortable.
It might have been the massive sword she had belted to her waist that disturbed Andar so much. Women were not supposed to carry weapons like that. Women were supposed to be soft and gentle – and subservient, of course. It seemed to Andar that Trenicia’s very existence was a violation of some natural law dating back to the beginning of time.
Of course Andar had never even heard of the Isle of Akala until the Trogite fleet had reached the temple of Lady Zelana’s sister early last autumn. The notion of a place where women were dominant was so unnatural that Andar was almost positive that it was some kind of hoax. He was quite certain that a man was the true leader on the isle, and that Trenicia was nothing more than an elaborate deception.
But she could run for at least a half a day, and her shoulders were even larger than Andar’s were. She had all of the characteristics of a warrior – except that she was a woman. Commander Narasan treated her with respect, and the two of them seemed to get along quite well.
As the army continued the march to the east, Andar continued his private argument with himself. Queen Trenicia wasn’t really supposed to be with them – but she was. Queen Trenicia was supposed to be in some fancy palace surrounded by servants who were supposed to respond to her every whim – but she wasn’t.
Andar’s whole world seemed to be turning upside down, and he didn’t like that at all. ‘I really wish that we’d stayed home,’ he muttered to himself.
They reached the coast several days later, and the Trogite ships were still anchored where they’d been when Commander Narasan’s army had disembarked to begin the long march to Mount Shrak.
