‘Still,’ he went on awkwardly, ‘it’s nearly over now and nothing worse will happen to most of them than a few months working on the re-building. I’m glad we’ve done it strictly by the Law and not in secret under some harsh military Edict. There’s been enough done in the shadows of late. There’ll be anger and bitterness about for years yet; those who suffered under Dan-Tor’s minions, those who were maimed or lost loved ones in the battle… ’ He paused. ‘Openness and debate should give us some understanding and that’s probably our best hope for turning all that… torment… towards dealing with its true cause.’
Both Yatsu and Dilrap nodded in agreement.
So that’s why we came out, Dilrap thought. Eldric needed to ease his burden a little; to grieve a little.
‘I apologize for my reproach, Lord,’ he said. ‘An-other’s load is always lighter.’
Eldric did not reply but inclined his head in ac-knowledgement. Then he looked at Yatsu and saw the icy spectre that rode by the Goraidin’s elbow whenever this subject was touched on. He reached out to banish it.
‘Your own words will come to pass, Commander,’ he said, almost gently. ‘Those who were at Ledvrin will be pursued without mercy and pursued for ever. They may have fled with the Mathidrin, but they’ll be found and brought to justice eventually. No place nor passage of time can shelter them from that and the task will never be laid aside until it’s completed.’
Yatsu closed his eyes briefly. ‘I know, Lord,’ he said, his voice enigmatic.
Dilrap looked at Yatsu. Quiet and self-effacing, with his wry humour, the Goraidin was invariably excellent, reassuring company. He exuded gentleness and great strength at one and the same time, yet unexpectedly, in the presence of the man, calm intellectual knowledge became cold visceral understanding, and Dilrap realized truly for the first time that Yatsu had within him a more efficient, cold-blooded and ruthless killer than Urssain, Aelang or any of those demented souls who had descended on Ledvrin. Where he differed from them was in the vision he had which enabled him to see this truth in himself; in the strength of spirit which enabled him to accept it, and in the wisdom which told him why and when such grim skills were needed.
Impulsively he leaned over and took Yatsu’s arm sympathetically.
The gesture provoked no sudden response, although Yatsu turned, a little puzzled. The two men’s eyes met. Yatsu, whose years of training and experience had taught him to channel his fear into the execution of deeds which would carry him silently to the heart of his enemy’s camp; and Dilrap who with his inner terror screaming constantly, had faced Oklar, stood his ground, and wilfully chosen to tangle his way with a web of deceit and confusion. A brief flash of understanding passed between these two opposite yet kindred souls. He smiled and bowed slightly.
Then Yatsu chuckled, as if, like Eldric, he had had some burden lifted. ‘Shall we canter a little?’ he suggested.
Dilrap’s eyes widened. ‘No thank you!’ he said hast-ily but firmly, before Eldric could reply.
His alarm overrode Yatsu’s enthusiasm and the three continued their ride through the park at walking pace. Their conversation wandered over various topics but was drawn inevitably back to the weighty matters of the moment.
‘It grieves me that he holds Narsindalvak,’ Eldric said. ‘He can come and go about Narsindal as he wishes.’
Yatsu shrugged. ‘Narsindalvak’s not much fun at the best of times,’ he said. ‘And full of those scheming Mathidrin, treacherous Lords and malcontent High Guards, with winter coming on… ’ He smiled broadly. ‘I doubt they’re going to be in a mood for celebrating the Festival. And as for those who’ve been billeted to some camp in Narsindal itself or given the job of holding the approaches! Narsindalvak’s going to seem pleasant to them! I’d say that Oklar’s going to have some severe morale problems before long. What we’ll have to watch for is the possibility of him sending out raiding parties precisely to ease such problems.’
‘You’ve changed your mind about our sending the renegades to their chosen master have you?’ Eldric said, half smiling.
‘No,’ Yatsu replied. ‘But the arguments were closely balanced and a decision either way carried its own hazards. I’ll not deny I didn’t relish the idea of impris-oning them and tying up a great many men to act as guards, but it goes against my nature to give an enemy information unless it’s specifically to deceive them.’
Eldric let the matter lie. As Yatsu said, it had been thoroughly argued and the decision made. Whatever consequences arose from it, he knew that Yatsu and his like would make the most of them without reproach.
‘You think raiding parties are a possibility?’ he said after a moment, taking up Yatsu’s passing comment.
The Goraidin nodded. ‘They may need the supplies, they may need the diversion,’ he said. ‘Yes. I think they’re a distinct possibility. In fact I’ve increased the border patrols already. It’ll give us an opportunity to toughen up some of these flower guards a little more quickly.’
Dilrap watched the two soldiers share a brief mo-ment of amused professional malice as they laughed at the term ‘flower guards’; one coined by the traditional High Guards for those whose Lords had allowed them to become more decorative than effective. He felt momen-tarily isolated.
‘And we must decide soon what to do about the mines,’ Yatsu went on. Eldric nodded, his face suddenly darker. Whatever Arinndier decided with the Orthlundyn, the mines were a matter that should be attended to as soon as possible.
Following the battle, Idrace and Fel-Astian had told of their own secret war against Dan-Tor since their return from Orthlund. Working as labourers they had moved across the country, listening and watching, until they had found their way to the heart of Dan-Tor’s corruption, becoming workers in his workshops. There they had learned of the dangerously inflammable material that was prepared in one of the workshops, ostensibly for use in the manufacture of many of Dan-Tor’s artefacts. Unclear in their thoughts but concerned that the vast and growing quantity that was being held in storage was for no good purpose, the two High Guards had not hesitated to direct Yatsu and his Goraidin towards its destruction when the opportunity presented itself.
When questioned, Dan-Tor’s workers had revealed that they knew nothing of the true nature of the material, other than that it was dangerous and that Dan-Tor’s instructions in its preparation were best obeyed to the letter. It was derived, it seemed, from ores and minerals that came, ‘from some place up north somewhere’.
It needed no tactical genius to realize the potential of such a substance. The discipline of the phalanx pikemen had saved them during the battle, when they had parted to allow the blazing wagons to pass, but had the material been launched by catapults then no amount of evasion would have served and the day would have been lost, with appalling casualties to boot.
Eldric reined his horse to a halt thoughtfully. No one knew why Dan-Tor had chosen to make and store the dreadful stuff in Vakloss, but presumably he could make it elsewhere. That could not be allowed. But workshops and warehouses could be built anywhere; the only way its manufacture could be prevented for sure would be to destroy the mines from whence the raw materials came.
He shuddered as a vision came to him of great cata-pults hurling balls of flame against crowded infantry and cavalry.
‘Start preparing detailed plans for an assault,’ he said tersely, clicking his horse forward.
‘Yes, Lord,’ Yatsu replied, without comment, and the trio rode on for a while in a slightly more sombre mood.
Eventually, they came to a narrow bower at the edge of the park. In the spring and summer it would be ablaze with colour and redolent with many scents, but now it was damp and bedraggled and, as the riders stopped to pass through, it splattered them with copious flurries of cold droplets.