Yours very respectfully, Benjamin Murphy do Dirstval, Onetime Private, U.S.A.
Mason finished reading and handed the parchment to Rick.
"We must send aid," Ganton said. "And quickly."
Lord Mason and Lord Rick were looking at each other. They didn't seem to hear.
Other parchments lay on the table. Maps, and a sketch of one of the Westmen. Ganton also noted the bow, longer and thicker than the horse bows of Drantos or the Five Kingdoms, or even of the Romans.
"Your Lord Murphy seems a wise captain," Ganton said. "I would honor him. With your permission.
And a grant to the wives-" he could make himself say it now, although the idea had grated on him while Reznick was alive. "-to the wives of the Lord Reznick. Only upon your advice, my lord."
He had not forgotten. One of his first acts upon coming of age was a grant of land to Protector Camithon-which earned him the cold scorn of the Lady Tylara. Not that she objected to honors given Camithon, who was, after all, her general; but he was her general now that he was no longer Protector. Her advice and consent had not been asked, and that she was slow to forgive.
Lord Rick said nothing.
"Forgive us, Majesty," Mason said. "We can-we can talk about that later."
"Aye." Ganton went to the side table. Before Morrone could interfere, he poured three goblets of wine and brought them to the center table. "My lords," he said, and set the goblets down. "To the memory of Lord Reznick."
They drank, and Rick looked up woodenly. "He came a long way to die."
"Aye," Ganton said. "Yet the Chooser will find a man, however far he travels. But he will have an honored place in Vothan's Hall, I think."
"Yeah." Rick looked thoughtful. "Art, what can we send Murphy?"
"Not a hell of a lot. You know what's mobilized."
"You'll have to go. He needs some quick reinforcements. Ammunition, and a mobile force." Rick strode quickly to the door and opened it. "Jamiy!"
"Sir!"
"Alert Captain Padraic. The Mounted Archers will prepare to move out. Combat gear and rations."
"Sir!" Rick's orderly ran off down the corridor.
I wish I were obeyed as Lord Rick is, Ganton thought. And command as he does. He took no advice, no counsel. He needed none.
"Your pardon, Majesty," Rick said, as if suddenly realizing that Ganton was in the room. "It is best we act quickly. Have I your permission to alert your Guards? We should return to Armagh, and quickly."
"Armagh, my lord?" Ganton asked. "Not Dravan?" Lord Rick's Castle Dravan was certainly the proper place to organize the defense of the High Cumac. One of the castle's functions was to guard the passes up the Littlescarp.
"Aye, sire," Rick said. "But first there must be a Council of the Realm, and meetings with our allies of Tamaerthon and Rome. And I must see to the growing of surinomaz and other affairs at Armagh, which is as easy to reach from the, University as your capital of Edron. Thus I suggest you send word to summon the council to Armagh."
"It is hardly convenient," Morrone said. "Nor comfortable-"
"Murphy's not very comfortable out there facin' those Westmen," Mason muttered.
"Let us hear no more of comfort!" Ganton said. "My Lord Morrone, it is my will that the Council of Drantos be summoned to Armagh, to meet within the ten-day. See to it."
Morrone was about to reply, but Ganton's look silenced him. "Aye, Majesty. Immediately."
Ganton wanted to leap and shout. He felt as he had the first time he had seen the sea, or bedded a woman. This was power, of the kind Lord Rick held, real power…
"So that is done," Ganton said. "Another thing, Lord Rick. Harkon's stronghold. Westrook. A strong place, I have heard. With Lord Harkon dead, someone must hold it. Perhaps Lord Murphy should go there."
"That makes sense," Mason said.
"We don't know the roads," Rick said. "Not enough information to make a decision."
"Yeah, but it stands to reason a castle's easier to hold than a village," Mason said. "When we get back to Dravan, we can send up some of those new bombards, and gunpowder. Who'll be in charge up there, now that the regular baron's had it?"
They speak to me as a companion, Ganton thought. Not as a boy, not as a king, but as a fellow warrior! They listen, and consider, and ask "I believe Bheroman Harkon has a son not yet of age."
"Maybe Murph could take over that place," Mason said. "He's pretty sharp, Cap'n."
"We'll see," Rick said. "Time enough when we get him some ammo and find out what the score is." Someone had refilled his goblet. He drained it and set it down. "So now we have Westmen."
"Yeah," Mason said. "The Time's coming. Weather's gone crazy. Gotta raise madweed. Feuds in Tamaerthon. Clansmen eyeing the University's wealth. Riots and migrations in the south. The Five Kingdoms raising new armies, God knows what for. So we get to deal with Westmen. Why not?"
Rick joined Mason in laughter. Mason fetched the wine jug and poured the last into their three glasses. Ganton had never seen the starmen act this way before. This is what it is to be a man, he thought. To do what must be done, and know that you will, and that your companions will not fail you.
And I am here with them, but can I do what I must? Can I do what they expect of me?
Again they raised their glasses. "Why the hell not?" Rick said, and again they laughed, and Ganton drank with them, while inside he was afraid.
24
They rode hard through foothills covered with thorny scrub. Just before midday, the stark battlements of Castle Armagh loomed up ahead. Ganton- spurred his horse and rode up alongside Rick. "Not the most comfortable of places, but yet a welcome sight," he said.
"Aye, Majesty." Forty miles in the saddle. Major Assburns. Not a joke to tell the king, but bloody hell my arse is sore!
"Your County is peaceful," Ganton said. "I had half thought so small a party might meet up with robbers."
"It could have been," Rick acknowledged. The party they'd taken to visit Lord Ajacias in the Sutmarg had been enormous: Guards, Mounted Archers, Yanulf's train of scribes and priests and acolytes, musicians, courtiers… The intention had been to eat up Ajacias's substance, and they'd done that. There were only ten in the group riding to Armagh. The others had been sent back to the capital, or up the Littlescarp to aid Murphy, or, like Yanulf, followed at a more leisurely pace.
"Perhaps messengers already await us at Ar-'magh," Ganton suggested. "From the University."
"Possible," Rick conceded.
"By Yatar, I like this!" Ganton shouted. "To ride hard, all day and half the night! To eat venison roasted over a camp fire, and sleep in furs on the ground- hardships, but we do this as friends, without advisors, without endless ceremony. I have not felt so alive since-since I led men to battle!"
"It can be a good feeling." Until the battle's over, and you have to look at the butcher's bill.
"I wish we had gone with the Lord Mason," Ganton said.
Rick shifted uncomfortably in the saddle. "If the Lord Mason and the Guard cannot relieve the Lord Murphy, we two would be of little use."
Ganton nodded seriously. "Aye. We must needs send an army, and only you and I can arrange that, so we are needed here. I know this, but it galls me to send my friends where I cannot go."
"Me too, sire. But it's part of leadership, to learn to be sensible. The semaphore will tell us when Mason gets back to Castle Dravan and is on his way here. Meantime, we have plenty to do."
"Aye." Ganton stood in his stirrups and turned. "Hanzar!" he shouted. "Ride ahead and tell them the Wanax of Drantos comes to guest with the Eqeta of Cheim."