Sovereign

'And Wennem? What will you do with her?'

'Take her with me, if I can.'

'Does she know that?'

'I think so,' Makon said, but Eynon heard the uncertainty in his voice.

'There is another way,' Eynon said.

'Oh?'

'It is not unusual for a man to join the clan of his wife.'

Makon's jaw dropped.

Eynon started laughing, but it hurt too much. 'Close your mouth. You look like a fish.'

Makon closed his mouth.

'It isn't something you considered?'

'I am from the White Wolf Clan. We have been enemies of the Horse Clan for… a long time.'

'Only thirty years,' Eynon said.

'Since before I was born.'

'But our clans are not enemies any more.' Eynon looked grim. 'My clan is too small now to threaten anyone.'

'I know. But… to change clans… to leave Gudon and Korigan…'

'You would not be leaving them,' Eynon said. 'Korigan will still be your queen, and joining the Horse Clan does not stop you from seeing your brother.'

'No,' Makon admitted.

'And it would help strengthen the ties between our two clans. Heal the wounds. Convince other clans that were once in opposition to Korigan and her father before her that it is time to put those differences behind us.'

'Truth,' Makon admitted again. Still, his reluctance was obvious.

'There is another reason,' Eynon said. 'In fact, two reasons.'

'Go on.'

'First, Wennem, I think, does not want to leave the clan. She would think it a betrayal of her first husband and child. Second…' Eynon waved at the cup, and Makon helped him have another drink. 'And second, I need an heir.'

Makon heard Eynon's words, but for a long moment they did not mean anything. 'Yes, I can see that,' he started to say, then stopped. He looked at Eynon, saw nothing in his expression that showed he was playing a joke on him. 'Ah,' he said.

'Ah? Is that all you can say?'

Makon stood up, changed his mind and sat down again. 'Ah.'

'It would mean adopting you as my son. But since I have already adopted Wennem as my daughter, that would present no problem if you were to marry her.'

'Marry her.'

'You see,' Eynon said, putting a hand on Makon's shoulder, 'because I have adopted her I could not let her go to the White Wolf Clan.'

'Of course.'

'So you joining the Horse Clan is the best solution all round.'

'Yes.'

'And, as I said, I need an heir. I want you to lead my clan after I am gone.' Eynon ran one hand down his ridge of stitches. 'And for some reason, the need has become more urgent than it once was.'

CHAPTER 33

Dejanus stood outside his tent drinking red Storian wine from the biggest cup he could find. From his vantage point on a slight rise he could look out over the Great Army. His Great Army. He had to remind himself of that every now and then, seeing as everyone else in the Kingdom seemed to want to tell him what to do with it.

'You promised me those supplies, General,' one of his captains was saying. 'My company is eating porridge three times a day because we no longer have any bread or meat.'

'At least your soldiers have porridge,' another captain cut in. 'General Dejanus, my warriors have to take food from nearby towns because we've received no supplies at all since arriving from Lurisia.'

Dejanus took another gulp of the wine. Down below he could see Amanite light infantry marching up and down, looking splendid. That was his doing. The first thing he had noticed on his arrival at the camp was the loose, slovenly way some of the regiments seemed to deport themselves. Well, he had fixed that. But did anyone thank him?

'General, my soldiers haven't eaten properly in ten days, and we don't have any steel and wood to replace weapons we've lost or broken in training.'

Not far from the Amanite light infantry, some Storian cavalry were charging at targets and hurling their javelins, sounding terribly fierce.

Dejanus's aide, a polite and deferential Lurisian named Savis, coughed politely to get his attention.

'What is it?'

'A messenger from Captain Urling, General.'

'Urling? Who's Captain Urling again?'

'In charge of the Amanite light infantry, sir.'

Dejanus pointed to the regiment marching in the camp below. 'That's our Amanite infantry.'

'Half of the contingent, sir. The other half you posted several leagues north to run the pickets and carry out scouting duty.'

'Scouting duty? Infantry? Why not our cavalry?'

Savis timidly pointed to the cavalry practising with targets. 'Otherwise occupied, sir.'

'What about the medium cavalry? Those units from… you know…'

'Also from Storia, sir.'

'Where are they?'

'You ordered them to set camp about five leagues south of here.'

'Did I?'

'They are your reserve, I seem to remember.'

'Ah, yes.' Now he remembered. When he had arrived, another thing he had noticed was that no one thought about matters like a reserve. He had fixed that, too. Apparently.

'What does this… Captain…'

'Urling, sir.'

'What does Captain Urling want?'

'He reports that he is seeing increased activity to the north, sir.'

Dejanus blinked. 'Enemy soldiers?'

'Not as such, General. Increased dust in the air, birds some wild karak fleeing south, that sort of thing.'

Dejanus grunted. 'Urling would be scared by his own shadow. Are you sure he doesn't mention any sign of enemy soldiers?'

'Positive, sir.'

'Well, bloody not likely to, eh? Who in their right mind would take on the Great Army of Grenda Lear?'

'No one in their right mind, sir,' Savis said cautiously, remembering some of the tales about mad Prince Lynan that were circulating in the camp.

'There is also a message from Chancellor Orkid Gravespear.'

Dejanus cursed. 'What does that interfering bastard want? Same as always?'

'I'm afraid so, General. He insists you advance on Sparro as soon as you are able.'

Dejanus spread his arms in appeal to the captains around him. 'God spare us from idiot civilians! Doesn't he understand the problems of a Great Army like this? I can't solve all of them overnight. The army isn't ready yet. It needs more supplies. It needs more training.' He turned on Savis. 'I thought I asked you to send a message to him about our supplies?'

'I did. He says in his reply…' Savis brought out a crumpled note from a vest pocket '… that we have enough supplies to feed a city twice the size of Kendra for a year.'

Dejanus grabbed the note from Savis's hands. He read it quickly, scrunched it in his fist and threw it away.

'In a separate message,' Savis said, pulling out another note, 'the chancellor stresses that since winter is almost upon us, it may soon be too late to do anything at all with the Great Army and it may have to disperse.'

Dejanus grabbed that note, too, and threw it away without reading it. He put his face close to Savis's and said: 'This army will not disperse because by winter it will occupy Sparro. There's time yet!' He swallowed another mouthful of wine. 'By the way, what happened to those supplies that arrived last night?'

'You ordered me to send them to the cavalry reserve.' Dejanus frowned at him. 'The one five leagues south, sir.'

'I thought we were going to use them for the Amanite pickets?'

'We were, sir, originally. But you changed your mind.'

Dejanus frowned. Last night he must have forgotten about the pickets between the Great Army and Sparro. He had trouble remembering all the units under his command and where they were and what supplies they already had and what they still needed.

'Sir?' Savis said. 'Captain Urling?'

'Tell him to stop worrying,' Dejanus said curtly. 'When the enemy moves, he'll see more than dust and birds in the air.'

'Yes, sir,' Savis said, and went to tell Urling's messenger.

Lynan was pulled back into the woods by the scout. 'There, on the rise,' the scout said.