"Aye!"
"And you rode next to a gold-bedecked barbarian riding a great black stallion and swinging the largest sword of my memory," the Roman said. "He was attended by the Great Banner of Tamaerthon."
"Aye," Ganton said. "I carried the banner of my house, not that of Drantos, for the Lord Rick was supreme that day. Ho, you do recall!"
Unlikely, Tylara thought. But the story has been told often enough, and what detail would he not have heard by now? My father is easily enough described Ganton's face fell. "My only battle," he said. "And I interrupt Caradoc telling of his victory. Forgive me, Coronel."
Caradoc looked embarrassed.
They have had too much to drink, Tylara thought. I should end this night before one says too much.
"Come, finish your tale," Ganton said.
"There is little more to tell," Caradoc said. "As instructed, we fired at the horses. Westmen on foot are no match for Tamaerthan archers."
"Nor for Drantos warriors," Geminius added.
"Aye," Caradoc said. "And then we brought forward the wagon with the Great Gun. Pinir the son of the smith fired it with his own hand, and lo! it did not burst. It made great slaughter among the horses of the Westmen, for it was loaded with all manner of small stones, aye and lengths of chain."
What Caradoc called the Great Gun was what Rick called a "four-pounder." Tylara had three in the arsenal of Castle Dravan. More importantly, she had five larger guns capable of destroying siege towers. Dravan well defended had never been taken; held by a handful, it had stood against Sarakos until he brought up great siege engines. With the new guns even those would fail…
"And thus we defeated them," Caradoc said. "I fear it does not make a great tale."
"But a great victory," Ganton said. "Would I had been there."
"You will see more of battles than ever you want," Octavia said quietly. "And soon enough, 1 think."
"Lord, a great victory indeed," Geminius said. "And by Our Lord's death, more of a tale than Caradoc would have you know! The sound of the guns frightened our horses, and when the Great Gun was fired, many were in panic. Our victory was nearly defeat, for the Westmen began to circle and dart toward us, and there was naught to hold them save the Tamaerthan archers, for the guns are not quickly readied for another volley, and our own cavalry was useless! Aye, even Romans! My own units, I confess, veterans all, were in disarray.
"Then suddenly, through the noise of battle, all could hear Caradoc. He vaulted into the saddle and rode round, rallying Roman and Drantos horse alike. 'Follow me!' he shouted in a voice like thunder, and he led us through and behind the Westmen, thus holding them in play until the archers and pikemen and musketeers could finish their death work. In truth it is Caradoc's victory we celebrate here."
"Hah," Ganton said. "And what have you to say of this, Coronel?"
"Lord-"
"Come now, my lords," Tylara said. "In Tamaerthon it is the custom to boast of one's deeds. It is not so in Drantos. Which customs would you have him honor, my Lord of the North?"
Ganton took another deep drink of wine. "I will find bards to tell of his action, then," he said. "He should be rewarded. Are there no bards to sing of this?"
Octavia moved closer to Ganton. Tylara couldn't hear, what she said. Suddenly Ganton shouted. "Aye! My lady, my lords, it has been greatly convenient to be here as a bheroman. I see, though, there are times when it is well to be Wanax." He stood. "Morrone! Morrone, where are you? Ho, Guards! The Wanax of Drantos requires his Companion! Find Lord Morrone!"
"Here, sire!" Morrone rushed into the hall. "Forgive me, I was napping in the corner-"
"Cease prattling and fetch me my sword!" Ganton shouted. "Quickly, quickly!"
"Aye, sire." Morrone ran to the far end of the hall and returned with a broadsword.
Ganton took it. "Coronel Caradoc, come forth! Kneel!"
"Aye, sire-"
"My lady, have I your consent?" Ganton shouted to Tylara.
"Aye, sire!"
"Then I, Ganton, Son of Loron, Wanax of Drantos, declare and proclaim Caradoc son of Cadaric worthy of the honors of chivalry." He struck Caradoc on each shoulder with the flat of the sword. "Arise, my lord. You shall have suitable income as befits your new station; and henceforth you shall be known as Lord Caradoc do Tamaerthon."
The pen wrote well. A space pen, Rick had called it when he gave it to her, but he had not explained what that meant. But it was certainly easier to use than a gull quill.
And so it was done. And I think well done, my husband. Caradoc has ever been a friend to this house, and I cannot believe that if Ganton gave him every honor within his gift he would change his loyalty. More, his interest runs with ours, as he is married to Gwen.
And a good thing, Tylara thought. Gwen must always be a temptation to Rick. She speaks his languages, and with her he can say what he will. Tylara looked to the mirror on the table. I think I am prettier than she. But- She looked to the bed and set her lips in a grim line. It is likely she is more skilled in the ways women attract men. Especially starmen. Yet men hold honor high. Surely Rick will not betray his friend and companion, his trusted henchman?
He has known other women since we were married. It must be. But he has been careful. There have been no stories, nothing whispered through the halls. Two women have claimed to carry Rick's bastards, but they have been proved to be liars. One could not have been in the same city with Rick when her child was conceived! And the other did not know of the strange surgery that prevails in his homeland.
She thought of Rick with another woman, and writhed. No matter how hard she tried, when she imagined Rick straining and groaning with another, the face beneath him was Gwen's. Enough! She lifted the pen again.
But though Caradoc has won a victory, I think the war goes not well. The Westmen ride where they will, and we hold only castles and walled towns. There will be no crops throughout much of the high plains. The Roman scribes will tell you what now is required to feed the army and its horses. I cannot think those numbers will please you, nor will they please the peers of Drantos. The taxes of this war, added to what you require to keep your fields of madweed, would have ruined us if we had not the new plows. They may ruin us yet, though the first harvest in the Cumac has yielded more than we previously took in two. And the new forges and foundries produce wagons to carry the grain, so that we are able to send it to the high plains for the army. Yet I fear there will come a time when we have not wagons, horses, and grain in the same place at the same time.
The Westmen are the death of the earth. Arekor, the priest of Vothan who lived among them, has told Caradoc-Lord Caradoc! — that they do this from policy. They burn and destroy, and pull down not only buildings and walls, but the very terraces, and stop up wells; for they live on so little that they can live in devastated lands when none of their enemies can. Thus do they keep the lands above the Westscarp in desert, and thus will they make desert of our lands above the Littlescarp if we cannot expel them or kill them.
She set the pen down and got up from the table. The next part would be very hard to write. A flagon of wine stood on a side table near her bed, and she filled a goblet.
I seldom drink wine, she thought. She looked at the empty bed. Except at night, before I go to my husband. Even now, even now, though he is gentle and kind and loves me. And though I love him with all my heart, I know I pleasure him little that way, though he says this is not so.
My husband, as you desired, we held a Council of Cheim to consider defenses against the Westmen. Hilon the blacksmith of Clayton, who sits in my council-
She frowned and crossed through the last two words.
— in our Council of Chelm, proposed that instead of supporting the army in the high plains, his town will buy the knowledge of how to make Guns, and pay to have the burghers taught in their use, and will buy firepowder.