Sovereign

'He was half-Chett, after all,' Barys said. 'It is said they value honesty above almost all other virtues.'

Tomar leaned forward urgently and grasped one of Barys's wrists, bringing his face within a finger's span of his champion's. 'I believe the same of his son.'

Barys, refusing to show he was surprised by the king's sudden action, said as mundanely as possible: 'So?'

Tomar let go of Barys and sat back. 'For the thirty-one years you have served me as my champion, I have in turn served the throne of Grenda Lear as its governor of Chandra.'

Barys took umbrage at that and was not afraid to show it. 'Long before there was a palace in Kendra your family ruled here.'

'The point is my grandfather accepted the overrule of the Rosethemes, and Chandra has benefited from it. Our borders became stronger, our trade flourished, our people grew in numbers.'

Barys leaned forward now, sensing that Tomar was about to cross a river and that its consequences would be irrevocable. 'You are talking still about loyalty?'

'God, yes,' Tomar breathed. 'As king, my loyalty must ultimately reside with my own people.'

'Agreed.'

'But is loyalty best served by politics or truth?' Tomar caught Barys's gaze, and the champion realised the moment had arrived. This is what Tomar had been debating within himself since… he thought back… since the day he had escorted Magmed and the knights into Sparro. That was when he had received the first of the letters from Kendra. And, obvious now, when he had also received the letter from Lynan. But Tomar could no longer put off a decision because Charion had arrived, unannounced and unexpected, in his lap. If it had been any other refugee a conundrum would not exist, but Chandra and Hume were rivals within Grenda Lear, and before that had been actual enemies with a history of countless border wars. Indeed, it had been the constant threat of incursions from Hume that had convinced Tomar's grandfather to accede to union with the Kingdom. The fact that both were now provinces within that Kingdom eliminated open conflict between them but did nothing to reduce the ancient enmity.

'This is a question you have had time to consider,' Barys said carefully. 'What is it you need of me?'

Tomar handed over the letter and Barys read it twice. When he finished he asked, 'Do you believe this? That the chancellor and this Dejanus actually murdered Berayma?'

'He is the General's son,' Tomar said.

'And it makes sense,' Barys conceded. 'It fits in with your fears about Aman's growing power in court, something Lynan himself may not have been aware of at the time he was forced into exile.'

'Usharna made sure Lynan was kept out of politics and the court. For what reason I do not know, perhaps for his protection because of his half-commoner heritage, but it made him the perfect figure of blame for Berayma's murder. Orkid and Dejanus would have killed him outright and left Areava—who had no love for Lynan—with no choice and no doubt.'

'She still has no doubt,' Barys pointed out. 'Remember the Great Army which she is gathering on your lands.'

'Should I go to Areava with this letter, then?'

'She would execute you outright!' Barys said, astounded at the thought. 'Lynan has led an invasion into her territory, slain her husband, taken one of her great cities… The original cause of all of this no longer matters!'

Tomar slapped the table with one hand. 'It matters to me, Barys!' He stood up abruptly and walked around the room, his hands behind his back. Barys watched him patiently, saying nothing. Eventually the king stopped, turned back to his champion.

'The immediate issue is whether I accept Areava's request to allow the standard of the Great Army on my territory, or whether I accede to Lynan's request.'

'To give his army free passage across Chandra to Kendra itself.'

'Exactly. Do I side with my queen, and thereby side with Orkid and Dejanus and all that that means? Or do I side with Lynan, rebel and invader of this Kingdom of Grenda Lear, and all that that means? Which is the greater betrayal?'

'What is best for Chandra?' Barys asked.

Tomar's shoulders sagged and he shook his head in frustration. 'I do not know, old friend. I do not know.'

CHAPTER 23

From a hill near the end of the Oceans of Grass, Makon looked over a great camp. First light was returning colour to the sky, and the curling grey smoke of last night's fires was dispersing in a morning breeze,

Makon had never thought to see again anything like the gathering of Lynan's army at the High Sooq the previous winter, but now he was witnessing something similar in the homeland of the Horse Clan. From the north, from the west, from the east, clans that had already sent so many of their own to war under Lynan's pennant now sent more to help Eynon and his people exact their revenge against the Saranah and Amanites. The original plan had been to call for reinforcements under Lynan's name at the next High Sooq, but word of what had happened to the Horse Clan and others in the south of the Oceans of Grass travelled quickly, and soon individual clans were sending detachments to join Eynon without being asked.

Makon was old enough and wise enough to recognise what Lynan had done to the Chetts was unite them properly for the first time, despite the previous efforts of Korigan and her father, something perhaps only someone from outside the clan system could have done. Makon also recognised that what Lynan had created would not be destroyed easily, whether or not the White Wolf won the throne of Grenda Lear. Now, watching the warriors gather to fight for a single purpose without quibbling about command or payment, Makon understood what unification meant for his people. The Chetts had become a power, not just on the Oceans of Grass and its margins, but throughout the continent of Theare.

What was less certain for Makon was whether or not it was entirely a good thing. His instinct told him it was, that it was always a good thing to be stronger, but the Chetts had broken through the wall of their isolation in a way that would make it difficult for the rest of Theare to regard them in any way but as invaders. There would be a cost for that, maybe not due for a generation or ten generations, but it would come, and he was smart enough to see that it would be paid for by losing what it was that made them Chetts and by being absorbed into the general stream of civilisation.

Lynan had given the Chetts a new future, but he had also ended forever their old way of life. By bursting onto the world in the way they had, they were ensuring that eventually they would diminish as a distinct people.

Wennem came up beside him. 'Is it not terrible to see?' she said, looking over the gathering as it stirred in the morning. There was an excitement in her voice he had not heard before. As a Chett he should have shared that excitement, coming as it did from the anticipation of making war against their enemies, but he could not help wishing that something other than the prospect of revenge had stirred her.

Tents were being lowered, fires put out, horses saddled. Riders joined their troops and then their troops collected into clans. Eynon had neither the time nor the inclination to reorganise them into banners independent of the clan system as Lynan had done with his force. In some ways, that would have been counterproductive—after all, this army had come together to revenge what had happened to them as clans. By the time the sun was actually over the horizon, seven thousand warriors were ready to ride south from the Oceans of Grass.

'Eynon will be expecting you,' Wennem said, Together they rode down to the head of the gathering, where the remnants of the Horse Clan, together with the lancers and the Red Hands, were ready to lead the way,

Eynon nodded to the rise they had been on. 'Get a good view?'

'Thank you,' Makon said.

'Are we impressive?'

'Very.'

Eynon grunted, but Makon could see he was pleased.