Ranged behind them up the bay was the rest of the fleet, almost half of the ships the autarch had brought to the northern continent, so that the golden falcons on their sails seemed to be flying across the water in a great flock. Hierosol’s great outer walls had fallen in a few days. How long could the much smaller Southmarch hope to resist the power of Xis?
The northerner had doubtless been thinking the same thing. “You have brought an impressive force,” Olin said, turning back to the autarch. “It reminds me of a bit of history. You are a well-read man, Sulepis. Have you heard of the Gray Companies who roamed these lands three centuries ago?”
The autarch spread his gold-tipped fingers as if to admire how they sparkled in the sun. “I have heard of the mercenaries, of course,” he said. “Such things would not be allowed in my country. In Xis bandits are impaled on sharpened posts for all to see. My people know that I watch over them.”
“Oh, I am certain of that,” said Olin. “But looking at your fleet and the vast army it carries, I was reminded of the days of the Gray Companies, and especially the famous warlord Davos, called ‘The Mantis.’ ”
The autarch seemed amused. “The Mantis? I have never heard of him.”
“I think that is because you have studied my family’s later history more closely than you have that particular period.”
“Was he truly a priest, with such a name?”
“He owned the income of a mantisery, but that did not make him a true priest. Neither did he receive that name for his good deeds. In fact, there are some who say there was never a greater villain on the continent of Eion… but others might argue that.”
Sulepis laughed with what seemed honest pleasure. “Oh, very good, Olin! Never a greater villain until today is what you mean.”
The northerner shrugged. “Do you really think I would be so rude to such a thoughtful host?”
“Speak on. You have my interest.”
“You will know how the Gray Companies sprang up here in the north during the chaos of the first war against the Twilight People. They roamed the lands in the years after Coldgray Moor—bands of soldiers with nowhere to go, fighting at first for any lord who would pay them, but turning at last to pillage and robbery for its own sake. The worst of these—and the most powerful—was the son of a Syannese noble family, Davos of Elgi. Because of the mantisery income, or perhaps because of the long, black cloak he wore, he gained the name ‘Mantis.’ In the chaos of those days Davos fought for many causes and plundered many cities, but a great warlord is like a man riding on a fierce bear—everyone fears him except the bear, and he must always remember to keep the beast fed. The Mantis was forced to continue his raids even when most of the wars that followed the Qar’s withdrawal had ended. As more and more northern cities were despoiled, the starving survivors had nowhere to go but to follow their despoiler, so the armies of the Mantis grew and grew. At last he ruled over all Brenland and large stretches of Syan. His men also pillaged parts of my own country, roaming through Southmarch and Westmarch, robbing and killing, until the people screamed out to be saved from this terror. Helping them fell to my ancestor, King Anglin’s granddaughter, Lily Eddon.”
“Ah, yes,” said the autarch. “The woman who ruled a nation! This name I have heard.”
“She earned her fame. Her husband had been killed in a fight against one of the Mantis’ fellow bandits and his son had died beside him. Lily was left to rule the country alone, and many of the frightened people argued that she should be deposed, that a warrior-knight should be elevated to the throne. But Lily was as much a warrior as any man in her court—Anglin’s blood ran hot and strong in her. She would not be put aside.
“The Mantis had long admired Southmarch, and not just because of its young queen. The land was fertile and the castle was all but impregnable. Davos sent Queen Lily an offer of marriage. She had no husband and no son. The Mantis pointed out that he was rich and strong, and that if she married him his great army would be at the service of the March Kingdoms. Many in the Southmarch court urged her to accept this proposal. What other hope did they have?
“Instead, Lily sent a letter back to Davos Elgin, the black-cloaked Mantis—master, so it was said, of a hundred thousand bloodthirsty soldiers—which read, ‘Queen Lily regrets that she will be unable to honor your invitation. She will be too busy killing the rats that are swarming across her lands.’ And that is what she commenced to do.” Olin glanced up. “Am I wearying you, Sulepis?”
“Not at all! You are amusing me and that is a rare treasure.” The autarch leaned down toward the foreign king. With his bony, long-nosed face and troublingly bright, unblinking eyes, Vash thought Sulepis looked more than ever like a human hawk. “Please continue.”
“Lily knew that the Gray Companies could not survive without plunder—they had already left destruction across all the other lands they had entered—so she sent her agents out to tell the people to retreat, not just in the Mantis’ direct path but all around, even from places it seemed he did not threaten. She told the people to take everything they could and destroy all that was left behind. If they could reach Southmarch, she told them, she would protect them there. Then she sent out her armies, still full of hard, battle-worn veterans of the war against the Twilight People, to harass the Mantis’ much greater force but never to confront him directly.
“Thus, as the mercenary armies trekked across the March Kingdoms they found the way deserted and scorched before them—no nobles to ransom, no valuables to steal, no food to eat. As they struggled on, the Marchmen appeared from out of nowhere, struck, then vanished like shadows, never killing many of the Mantis’ soldiers but making them all fearful because of the unpredictability of their attacks. Sometimes they slit the throat of just one mercenary where he lay sleeping in the midst of a dozen comrades, so that when the others found him they would know it could just as easily have been any of them. Queen Lily’s raiders killed the Mantis’ men in a hundred different ways, subtle and otherwise, weakening the bridges, poisoning the mercenaries’ water or rations, or simply setting fire to their tents as they lay sleeping. So many of Davos’ sentries were murdered that finally the pickets insisted on huddling together in groups of three or four, which meant large stretches of the perimeter were left virtually unguarded.
“At last, with his unnerved men starting at shadows, Davos the Mantis staked everything on a swift and direct assault upon Southmarch Castle itself. The shores of the bay were full of rough dwellings built by those who had already fled Davos’ assault but could not get into the crowded castle. As the mercenaries’ march drew closer these refugees fled from them again, disappearing into the caves and forested heights of the headlands. Then, as Davos and his men marched down the main street, wary of ambush, they smelled the smoke and saw the first flames—the town along the shore had been set on fire. The mercenaries looked at each other fearfully. These people of Southmarch would rather burn their towns down again and again instead of ceding one inch to the raiders. Who could fight such madness?
“And then the Mantis’ men at last saw the high walls of Southmarch Castle across the bay, and knew it would take them a year or more to overthrow such a powerful stronghold—a year of starvation, because the land had been made uninhabitable around them and their stores were empty. Even Davos’ most loyal lieutenants, the men who had enriched themselves at his side and gone from bandits to magnates in his employ, now refused his orders. They had lost the will to fight. Many of the soldiers threw down their weapons on the spot and skulked away from the overwhelming sight of unconquered Southmarch.