‘Majesty, what are you doing here? And with Hawk-lan’s horse?’ Loman managed eventually.
‘I don’t know,’ Sylvriss replied, suddenly almost solemn. ‘The horse turned up at the Palace dirty and hungry, and needing my help. It carried me here. Now I’ve released it and told the guards to let it pass if it wishes.’
Loman shook his head, as if he were expecting to wake up. A swirling mass of questions fought for priority, but before any could be spoken, Eldric laid a hand on his arm.
‘Forgive me, Loman,’ he said gently. ‘But set your questions aside. You’re not truly familiar with our ways. What you’ve just heard is all that her Majesty knows.’ He looked at the Queen, who bowed in acknowledge-ment. ‘If you ponder a little you’ll see.’
Loman gazed at him intently, the Queen’s few words echoing through his mind. He knew that the four Lords must be as bewildered as he about such a strange tale, but he knew too that they would be asking their own endless probing questions if they thought the Queen would be able to answer them. They were as fine craftsmen in such matters as he was with iron, or Isloman with stone. He must accept their judgement; it would be sound.
As he reached that decision, small fragments tum-bled into position. By now, whatever route Hawklan had taken, he would be in Narsindal. And now the Queen seemingly at the horse’s behest, had released Serian too into Narsindal.
It was a portentous event and more than sufficient to remind him that forces were at work in this conflict which were beyond even his discovering, let alone his understanding. It reminded him too that he must commit himself totally to what lay within his ability to affect.
‘Thank you, Lord,’ he replied. ‘I won’t pretend it’s easy, but I do understand and accept what you say. This is some happening which is beyond us and we’ll waste our time pursuing it. All we can do now is be happy that the Queen and her son have arrived safely, and concern ourselves with how we can have them escorted back to Narsindalvak.’
‘We’ll make a Gatherer of you yet, Loman,’ Darek said with a chuckle.
‘There’ll be no need to consider my return, gentle-men,’ Sylvriss said, cutting across this slight levity. ‘I fear the way back will be too dangerous. I read your reports at Narsindalvak and have to tell you that matters to the rear were deteriorating even as we rode. The forts are hard pressed each night and twice we were attacked by Mandrocs on the road and saw bands of them in the mist, keeping station with us.’ The men exchanged concerned glances. ‘We suffered no serious casualties,’ she added reassuringly. ‘But we were a large force. I’d send no lightly escorted messengers back to the forts now. Nor look for any aid from that quarter. They seem confident that they can hold, but I suspect that any force plying between them will be assailed. The way is only forward now, for all of us.’ Sylvriss looked down at the crib by her side. ‘It isn’t what I’d intended or hoped for, but I’d no alternative than to do what I did. The horse demanded it. And now we’re both trapped here.’
The Queen’s news and her conclusion were chilling. A sudden commotion outside, however, forestalled any discussion, and suddenly the entrance to the tent was thrown open to reveal Urthryn. Bobbing in his wake came Oslang.
The Ffyrst made no ceremony, but ploughed across the tent until he reached the crib. There, with an almost incongruous delicacy, he peered into it and, with a gentle finger, eased back a sheet to examine the face of his sleeping grandson. He smiled and nodded, then transferred his wide-eyed gaze to his daughter. ‘Well, well,’ he said slowly. ‘Who’s a clever girl then?’
Sylvriss stood up, and father and daughter em-braced each other warmly. Urthryn shook his head reflectively as they parted. ‘I can’t tell you how happy I am,’ he said. ‘Your mother would’ve been… ’ The remark faded, and his eyes became momentarily distant. Then he was businesslike.
‘But what in the world possessed you to come here, child?’ he demanded. ‘We’ll have to get you both back out of danger as soon as possible.’ He looked round at the others for confirmation of this intention.
‘Sit down, father,’ Sylvriss said, laying a hand on his arm and indicating a nearby chair.
Though gentle, something in her manner brooked no argument and Urthryn did as he was bidden without comment.
Sylvriss told her tale again. Urthryn listened in si-lence. He took the news about Serian with scarcely a flicker of surprise, nodding understandingly, but he turned to Loman in disbelief when he heard about the daylight Mandroc attacks on the escort.
‘Let me send a few squadrons back,’ he said clench-ing his fist. ‘We’ll teach them to show their dog faces in daylight. My people are raring to go. They’re weary of fighting these creatures from behind a fence.’
‘No!’ Loman said brusquely. ‘The Mandrocs don’t care whether they live or die, and whoever’s organizing them cares even less. You could lose any number of squadrons against such an enemy to gain nothing but two piles of dead.’
Urthryn opened his mouth to rebut this claim but Loman stopped him. ‘You know it’s true, Ffyrst,’ he went on. ‘They’re possessed by some unholy force. You’ve seen them fight. As have your people. That’s one of the reasons I’ve given them such a liberal share of the night duties. There’s no defence against an enemy so reckless and uncaring for their own lives, except to kill them before they get too close… ’
‘Or to kill whoever’s leading them,’ Oslang inter-rupted.
Loman nodded in acknowledgement. ‘We’ll do both,’ Loman said. ‘And I intend to lose no one in the process.’
‘You may well fall short of that intention,’ Eldric said, anxious at this extravagant ambition.
‘I know,’ Loman said quietly. ‘But nonetheless, that’s what we’ll all aspire to. To aspire to save a few, is to lose more, and I refuse to be cavalier with the lives of our people just for the want of our strong will.’
Loman’s presence seemed to fill the tent and no one spoke as he looked round at his listeners.
‘We have bows, pikes, and above all discipline,’ he went on. ‘We’ll use all three to their maximum effect to try to avoid the need to use our swords and sinews against these creatures in close combat.’
‘I don’t dispute any of that, Loman,’ Urthryn said. ‘We’ve discussed it before at some length. But we can’t afford to let the enemy cut off our supply lines and take possession of the rear.’
Loman leaned forward. ‘So goes the tradition,’ he said. ‘But my feeling-my growing feeling-is that we’ll best husband our resources by staying together and pressing on to strike at the heart of all this, than by draining ourselves trying to defend an ever-lengthening supply line. I think the more forces we commit to such a strategy, the more He’ll harry us until we’re spread out like a shaft with no spearhead. Very soon, I suspect, He’ll look to meet us in the field, and we must be at our full strength then. When we defeat Him, I suspect the opposition to our withdrawal will be minimal.’
‘It’s not what we intended at the outset,’ Eldric said. ‘But I agree, we hadn’t envisaged such continuing and reckless assaults. It goes against the grain not to defend a supply line, but I fear you’re right.’
‘There will be another advantage,’ Loman said.
‘Everyone will know that there’s no chance of retreat except through total victory.’ Hreldar’s voice was cold.
Loman nodded. ‘If we allow Sumeral to cut us off then we limit all our options and He’ll find out only too clearly just how well we’ve learned His lessons.’
The tent fell silent at this grim remark.
The baby stirred, then it opened its eyes and began to cry. Sylvriss picked it up. The child’s innocent helplessness contrasted vividly with the stern faces of the gathered adults. Sylvriss smiled. ‘You’re very young to be mixing with such bad company,’ she said, cradling it comfortingly in her arms. Alter a while it fell silent.
Urthryn looked from his grandchild back to Loman, his face anxious but controlled. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ he said, unconsciously resting his hand on his sword hilt. ‘But being cut off is one thing, having a force come up behind us is another.’