Ibris nodded. ‘This you told my son,’ he replied. ‘It is your right; your duty, even. And while your sword hangs by your Threshold and not at your belt, you'll have nothing other than friendship and help from Serenstad.'
'This your son told me,’ Haynar replied.
Eventually, the army reached the end of the valley, and Ibris found himself looking out over the fertile plains that marked the eastern extremity of Bethlarii territory.
There he waited until he received word about Hyndrak to the north. Hyndrak was a substantial garrison city, and divisions from the cities of Stor and Drew had been sent there directly to seal it and prevent any assault on Ibris's supply lines as he moved towards Bethlar. This action would also protect their own cities from any direct assaults by the Hyndrak regiments through the mountains.
'Hyndrak has been surrounded. There has been no resistance,’ the message said when it came, adding significantly, ‘We suspect that the Hyndrak regiment has decamped and that there are only reservists here.'
'Excellent,’ Ibris acknowledged flatly. ‘Send word to remind the commanders there that there's to be no attempt to take or subdue the city.'
Feranc bowed. ‘All is clear then,’ he said flatly.
Ibris pulled open the flap of the command tent, and looked out across the rolling Bethlarii pains.
'All is clear,’ he echoed.
Chapter 36
The busy confusion of the large camp gradually grew quieter as the last light of the setting sun faded. Dark strands that had been staining the red and pink clouds stretched across the horizon, slowly spread to make them cold, grim and distant.
Stars began to appear in the purpling sky, while more homely lights were struck inside the rows of tents and wagons. Fires were stoked to help keep the chill of the coming night from bearing too hard on the many sentries posted about the camp.
Lamps, too, were lit in Ibris's command tent, reshaping its dull greyness with new and warmer shadows. Ibris was lounging back in a large chair while Menedrion, Arwain and Ryllans were sitting to one side of him. Ciarll Feranc, silhouetted against a particularly bright lamp, was bending over a table, examining a map. A large fire burned in the centre of the tent, its fumes rising into a decorated cowl that carried them out into the night.
The group's deliberations were interrupted discreetly by an announcement from the guard at the door, and Antyr entered accompanied by Estaan. They brought with them a brief swirl of cold air, and the fire flared up momentarily, releasing a soft puff of smoke into the tent. Menedrion scowled at the decorated cowl and then leaned forward to strike it with the flat of his hand.
Behind Antyr and Estaan came Pandra, his posture a little self-conscious, as it invariably was in the Duke's presence.
Ibris motioned them all to sit down then stroked the heads of Tarrian and Grayle which appeared suddenly on his knees. As usual the two wolves flopped down across his feet.
'To continue, gentlemen,’ Ibris said. ‘It seems that we're ready to begin our march towards Bethlar. Politically, the attack on Whendrak gives us the right under the terms of the treaty. Militarily, our force is large enough and growing daily and we've received no indication that the Bethlarii are using this as a diversion while they mount a major attack elsewhere. Morally…’ He shrugged sadly. ‘Who can say? We've lost two of the three heralds we sent out with messages for the Hanestra asking for a meeting, and the third only escaped because someone shot at him prematurely.’ He paused and shook his head slowly. ‘It's unbelievable,’ he said, almost to himself. ‘Killing heralds now…'
Then he let out a sharp breath and pressed on. ‘All the evidence that our advance patrols are bringing back confirms that the Bethlarii seem to be mobilizing the entire people. In theory we could just wait, fight a defensive war until their country collapses about them, but we may be more vulnerable than they are to such a sustained drain of men and women from their normal lives. Besides which if we let them finish their mobilization we'll be facing a truly huge army. Attack now is no more than self-defence…'
His doubt hung heavy in the air, but no one spoke.
He dispelled it himself. With a dismissive wave of his hand, he sat upright abruptly, disturbing Tarrian and Grayle.
'How are things on our second front?’ he asked Antyr.
Antyr hesitated briefly before replying. ‘Nothing untoward has happened recently, sire.'
Ibris's eyes narrowed. ‘But …?’ he asked, catching a doubt in the Dream Finder's voice.
Antyr hesitated again and looked round awkwardly at the listening group. ‘I don't know,’ he said. ‘Nothing has happened, but there's an unease in the…’ He moved his hands vaguely.
'In the what?’ Ibris asked, before Antyr could continue.
'In the mingling of the dream ways … the … night thoughts … over the camp … it's difficult to explain,’ Antyr answered. ‘It's as if a great storm were going on somewhere … or were about to arrive. The atmosphere's jagged, tense…'
'Several thousand men expecting to march to war soon are hardly going to be at their most relaxed, Antyr,’ Ibris said.
'No,’ Antyr said, shaking his head. ‘That's disturbing but not unexpected, as you say. But this is beneath and beyond. Faint and distant, but all-pervasive. I can't say what it is or what it means, I've never felt anything like it before. It worries me.'
Ibris frowned and turned to Pandra. ‘Have you noticed this strange … atmosphere … pervading the, whatever they are, the night thoughts?’ he asked.
'I feel nothing but the doubts and fear that you yourself described,’ Pandra replied. ‘But I don't have either Antyr's skill or his sensitivity. My not noticing something doesn't mean it isn't there.'
Ibris's frown deepened. ‘Wolf?’ he said in some irritation.
'Listen to Antyr, pack leader,’ Tarrian replied. ‘And don't be so angry just because you didn't get the answer you wanted. You hired him to do a job and he's doing it.'
'I appointed him,’ Ibris interjected sharply, thrown off-balance by Tarrian's offhand manner.
'Oh, so that's why Aaken's so slow paying his wages? It's an honorarium? Prompt payment isn't dignified. I understand now. Very complicated, humans.'
Despite the grimness of the moment, Ibris found his irritation evaporating at Tarrian's tone. He chuckled softly.
'I'm sorry, Antyr,’ he said after a moment. ‘I wouldn't rail at a messenger because he couldn't see through a mountain, so I should have listened and thought before I spoke. Tell me what you can, however vague. I'm still concerned about the warning that Whendrak is the lure. I see no military traps waiting for us so I'm waiting for some other revelation.'
Antyr's forehead furrowed with effort. ‘I've no reason for saying this,’ he said softly. ‘No logic, no observed sightings, intercepted messages. But I can't help but feel that the trap, whatever it is, is already beginning to close.'
All eyes turned to him. Even Ciarll Feranc inclined his head towards him as he maintained his scrutiny of the map on the table.
'Somewhere, something dire is happening,’ he went on before anyone could speak. ‘But it's not here. Here you must do what you can see to do. Wherever this trap lies, it's beyond your finding for the moment. I … we … will watch the dreamways and give you what warning we can, and what protection we can.'
Ibris leaned back, his face anxious. ‘I'm at a loss,’ he said. ‘You tell me to go to battle with the Bethlarii while some other ambush is under way. What am I to make of that?'
Antyr met his gaze. ‘Just that, sire,’ he said, his voice quiet but unequivocal. ‘You've an enemy that you can see. Fight him with all your skill or you'll be defeated. You've also an enemy you can't see.’ He waved a hand across Pandra and the two wolves. ‘We will watch for him, and advise you as well as we're able. Until that time, you can do nothing about him. Nothing!'