Before the man could pursue the matter, the en-trance to the tent opened and the figure of Urthryn appeared. He started a little at the sight of Hawklan and Gavor.
The officer saluted and Hawklan bowed.
‘May we speak before the meeting, Ffyrst?’ he said.
Urthryn looked at him enigmatically for a moment, then he nodded to the guard and with a slight bow ushered Hawklan into the tent.
Inside, Urthryn offered Hawklan a plain wooden seat, taking a similar one himself. The two men looked at one another in awkward silence for a few moments.
‘I came to thank you for recalling your people from the pursuit of the Morlider,’ Hawklan said eventually. ‘In the heat of the moment, my asking… lacked tact… as did my conduct in the hospital tent. I know now that you and your people suffered dreadful losses at Creost’s hands in the south. Losses that cried out-still cry out-for vengeance.’
Urthryn was silent for a moment, watching his un-expected guest carefully. He seemed to be struggling with an inner debate. ‘You have a gift for understate-ment, Orthlundyn,’ he said at last, his voice angry. ‘You charge through our ranks on one of our own horses, I note-disarm two of my best men as if they were fractious children, order me to call back the Line from full pursuit. Then you chase me to my bed when you can scarcely stand yourself. Your conduct lacked tact indeed… ’ He stopped suddenly and looked down at his hands. The sound of bustling activity outside filtered into the silence.
When he looked up, his face was distressed but his manner was calmer. ‘Every time I close my eyes, I’m walking through the mangled corpses on that beach. Corpses as far as you can see. Young and old, men and women. And horses. And… seagulls everywhere, screeching and squabbling, I hear them too.’ He put his hands to his ears uneasily. Hawklan resisted the temptation to reach out to him. Such a man, he knew, understood his own pain and needed to face it unaided.
‘If it’s not that, then it’s the relentless pounding of the journey we made, shaking my whole body even yet. Pushing myself beyond all pain and hurt and pulling the others behind me to avenge all that. Riding as Muster riders have never ridden before. And then to arrive and find we were too late.’
His face contorted and he leaned to one side slightly, swinging his arm low as if seizing something. He clenched his fist tight to stop the gesture. ‘I’d like to use those Morlider prisoners in the Helangai,’ he said savagely. ‘Smash and crush them. Let them suffer as we and our kin suffered.’
Hawklan’s eyes widened in distress at this outburst but he said nothing.
The spate ended as abruptly as it had begun. ‘I’m sorry… ’ Urthryn said. ‘You understand, don’t you? To have such things happen to those in your charge can hardly be borne.’
Hawklan nodded.
Urthryn looked at him intently. ‘You owe me no thanks for stopping the pursuit,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s I who should thank you for interceding and preventing an atrocity that would have stained us forever. As for the hospital, well, we were all sick at heart there. I’d hoped, twenty years ago, to have seen the last of such handi-work.’
Hawklan relaxed into his hard chair. Urthryn caught the movement and, for the moment eased of his burden, smiled slightly. Hawklan responded and raised his eyebrows inquiringly.
Urthryn’s smile widened and he scratched his head: another small homely gesture to distance further his recent painful outburst. ‘I’ve never seen an outlander who could sit on one of our camp chain and look comfortable before. But then I’ve never seen anyone-anyone-ride like you did towards that… ’ he waved a hand as he searched for a word. ‘That screeching monstrosity and those abominations riding it.’ He warmed to the subject. ‘It was a pity your arrows didn’t bring them all down. As for your crow… Gravy, here… well… ’
Gavor leaned forward indignantly.
‘No,’ Hawklan said quickly, laughing in spite of himself, and shaking his head. ‘Some wiser impulse guided my aim. If I’d killed their steed I’d have deprived them of the option of fleeing and they’d have destroyed us all for sure. Gavor’s attack panicked both them and Usgreckan into flight. We were fortunate that calmer counsels didn’t prevail.’
Urthryn looked doubtful but did not pursue the matter. His earlier rage seemed to have ebbed totally. It would return from time to time, Hawklan knew; that could not be avoided. But each time, it would be less.
‘Sylvriss was right,’ Urthryn said suddenly. ‘You’re a remarkable man.’ He leaned forward confidentially. ‘Are you sure you don’t have Riddinvolk stock in you somewhere? The Orthlundyn are notoriously careless about their bloodlines, you know.’
‘So Agreth has mentioned,’ Hawklan replied, then, deflecting the conversation, ‘Is your daughter well?’ he asked.
Urthryn smiled contentedly. ‘She was when we left,’ he said. ‘Blooming, in fact.’ His smile became sadder. ‘Despite the news we’d had to bring from the beach.’
‘Perhaps when one of your messengers returns to Dremark, you’d tell her I’m whole again and that I’ll be ever in her debt, and in the debt of her child,’ Hawklan said.
Urthryn looked puzzled and a little suspicious, but he nodded. ‘Well, I can’t pretend to understand what you mean by that,’ he said. ‘But bewilderment is also becoming my normal condition these days. Of course, I’ll send her any message you want.’ Then, standing, he held out his hand.
‘Now we’ve made our small peace, shall we ride to the Council of War together? See if we can make the future better than the past?’
The tent used by the Orthlundyn as a Command Centre was barely large enough to accommodate the many people who gathered at Andawyr’s behest, but eventu-ally everyone found somewhere to sit, stand or lean.
Andawyr, Hawklan, Urthryn and Loman sat at one end facing the others. By common consent, and to the quiet mockery of his countrymen, Dacu found himself given charge of the meeting.
Unexpectedly, Urthryn asked to speak first. There was a profound stillness in the tent as he told of the great gathering of the General Muster and of the terrible destruction wrought on it by Creost’s cunning.
‘Cadmoryth and the fishermen repaired two of the Morlider’s own boats and sailed northward on who knows what impulse. They offered no reason, nor made any debate, they just hoisted sail and left. I haven’t the words to honour them sufficiently.’ He looked down, unable to proceed for a moment.
‘Then Oslang told us we should travel north, and within days we met Agreth.’ He looked across at his adviser. ‘An epic journey also, Line Leader, to be honoured in due time,’ he said. Then, turning back to his audience, ‘All else, you know.’
He paused again. ‘Save this.’ He straightened up. ‘Our loss on that beach all but tore the heart from our people. While the fishermen showed us the way by pursuing the enemy, we celebrated our grief in petty bickering.’ He turned to Hawklan, his face pained. ‘Only one in six of our houses rode to this field; forty or so squadrons. And, thanks to our debating, even we arrived too late to spare some of your people. Others may join us, I don’t know. I’ve sent the news of the happenings here to all, but travelling’s difficult and we left the Moot in great disarray.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘You reproach yourself too much, Ffyrst,’ Andawyr said before Hawklan could reply.
‘I’m no longer Ffyrst,’ Urthryn said. ‘I doubt the office can exist in such turmoil.’
Andawyr waved the comment aside. ‘Names, titles, offices,’ he said, almost contemptuously. ‘You are here, Urthryn of the Decmilloith of Riddin, Son of the Riddinvolk. You came to fulfil the duty of the Muster and defend your land, and none could have done more from what I hear. That circumstances prevailed against you was none of your doing. You owe yourself no reproach. We’ve all failed in different ways and paid our different prices before we came to this place. The only crime we can commit now is to drag these failings behind us instead of moving forward. You command the loyalty of your forty squadrons and they’ve been spared for a future time.’