Master Kronmir and Captain Dariusz, his master of scouts, stood before him. Dariusz kept glancing at the green-clad Thrakian with the traditional distrust of the scout for the spy. Seeing nothing on the other man’s face, he turned back to the Duke.
‘He’s got half the regiment of Vardariotes with him, my lord, and I’ve lost men.’ He stood stiffly, as soldiers do when forced to admit failure. ‘He passed over the mountains like a spring flood in full spate, and I can’t put men over the passes after him – they’ll be snapped up.’
Demetrius nodded. ‘So? Now the city is open to us by the coast road,’ he said.
The Duke scratched his beard. ‘Where is he going, do you think?’ He whirled and faced Kronmir. ‘And how could our special source be wrong?’
Kronmir shook his head. ‘He’s taken most of the guard troops – and some militia and stradiotes we lost in the fall.’ He shrugged. ‘He’s surprised us. Not much use in assigning blame over it.’
The Duke looked at his son. ‘How soon can we have a western army together?’ he asked. ‘As Master Kronmir says – let’s not trouble ourselves as to how we came to believe he wouldn’t leave the city, or that he’d turn east to the coast.’
Demetrius shook his head. ‘It’ll be ten days before we have enough force to take him.’
The Duke shook his head. ‘Make it five. And where does he get all this money? Christ Pantokrator, if the Emperor had this much ready silver, we’d never-’ He paused.
Demetrius looked at the maps, ‘He must be going for the fur caravans. That must be it. He’d have access to the Riding Officer’s reports. Someone’s talked. He may even know about the Galles.’
The men around the table looked at each other for as long as it took a winded man to draw a breath.
‘Demetrius – go. Take all your guards, Kronmir, Aeskepiles. Do whatever you have to keep them from getting to Osawa.’ The Duke made a face. ‘Mother of God. I took for granted that he wouldn’t march through Thrake. Kronmir, your palace report-’
‘What if he goes for the Emperor?’ Kronmir asked.
‘Should we kill the Emperor?’ Demetrius asked.
The Duke turned to Kronmir, and the two exchanged a long look.
‘No,’ Kronmir said. ‘That would, at this point, only make her stronger. But move him to the coast, so that he’s far from the scene of action.’
Albinkirk and the North Woods – Ser John Crayford
Ser Richard dismounted heavily and all but fell. When he walked from the mounting block in Albinkirk’s citadel’s main yard, he walked like an old man, with his left hand pressing against his backplate.
Ser John Crayford sat – fully armed – in his ‘hall’ with the Bishop of Albinkirk, two Hoek merchants, an Etruscan named Benevento Amato, and representatives of most of the fur trade companies in Alba. They all fell silent when Ser Richard entered.
Ser John stood. ‘More giants?’ he said, reaching for the mace that lay on the oak table.
Ser Richard shook his head. ‘Boggles this time,’ he spat. He collapsed into a chair brought by Ser John’s squire. ‘By the Lord’s grace, gentles. I offer my apologies for the smell.’
Ser John met Ser Richard’s eyes. ‘Any losses?’
Ser Richard shook his head. ‘We caught them well outside of the settlement area.’ He sighed. ‘I’m not the only knight who is tired. Ignore me, gentles. It was a small passage of arms, and we were victorious.’
The Bishop came over, placed a hand on him, and blessed him, and Ser Richard felt – something. Since being healed by Sister Amicia, he’d felt closer to God than he’d ever felt in his life, but . . .
‘The Bishop was just saying we must take a convoy into the mountains to take the year’s furs,’ Ser John said.
Messier Amato rose and bowed. ‘With all due respect to the church, my lords, I am not a rich man but I know this trade. My cousins are even now reaping the richest part of the trade at Mont Reale. But Ticondaga is an old centre for furs and other goods – Wild honey in particular.’
Ser John looked out the window. ‘Albinkirk and Lissen Carak receive most of that trade,’ he said.
‘Ah, but this year that will not be the case. War will push the furs back north. And all of us here will go broke.’ The Etruscan smiled. ‘But if you will help us with soldiers – this has been done in the past, my pater assured me – if you would be so very kind as to assist us-’
Ser John nodded slowly. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Next item of business?’
The Bishop came and sat by Ser John. ‘I’d like you to reconsider, John.’
Ser John smiled a thin, don’t-fuck-with-me smile. ‘My lord Bishop, I’m quite positive that you know a fair shot of theology and perhaps some new learning, too. But right now, in case you aren’t paying attention, we’re fighting something close to a war. If the King hadn’t sent half the court up here to wet their lances, we’d be in a sore straight. As it is, look at Ser Richard. Look at me. We’re a-horse every day.’
The Bishop nodded. ‘And you are uniformly victorious.’ He nodded. ‘I’d go so far as to say that this is more like a drill for your knights than a war.’
Ser Richard made himself sit up. ‘By God, Bishop – fighting boggles is like child’s play, but only until one gets its mandibles in behind your knee.’
The Bishop spread his thin hands. ‘I mean no offence. But hear me. This town needs trade to live. Without that trade, the small farmers have no reason to farm and no town to sell their produce. You’ve taxed the foreign merchants to pay for new walls and new defences and they’ve paid. Now they need guards to go into the Adnacrags.’
‘It’s a month too late,’ Ser John said flatly.
Amato spread his hands. ‘Must I beg, ser knight? The ground is frozen, there’s a little snow, and with good equipment and brave men we can be at Ticondaga in two weeks.’
‘No,’ said Ser John. But he had less conviction in his voice.
Men now prayed in the ferry chapel, reroofed. The ferry itself had a small fort on either side, with walls higher than a Ruk could scale, and signal towers. The work was all done in wood from the destruction wrought by the Ruk on the nearby forests, and the posts were built by the Captain of Albinkirk’s archers.
As soon as they had the two forts finished there was a queue of men to man the ferry, and Ser John made it a military position and raised the toll. That money now went to the town.
He garrisoned the ferry forts, and left detachments of archers at six manor houses along the valley of the Cohocton, each with a knight or a senior squire, including Middlehill.
Helewise stood in the yard looking at Lord Wimarc. ‘He’s awfully young. Wouldn’t you rather stay and help me hold my house yourself, old man?’
Ser John leaned down and took one of her hands, and she blushed. ‘For shame – my daughter is watching. And what she sees from me is what she’ll do.’
‘I’d love to stay and help you hold this house,’ he said. ‘But I’m off north to Ticondaga. The Bishop convinced me it was my duty.’
‘A pox on him, then.’ She was going to cry.
He smiled. ‘I wonder if you’d marry me. When I come back.’
She shook her head. ‘You’re just saying that.’
‘Well, try it on your daughter. Listen, sweet – I must away. Wimarc’s a good lad. If he says run for the town, you do that.’ He bowed.
‘I did last time, didn’t I?’ she answered, pertly enough. She stuck her chin in the air and kept being brave until he was out the gate.
Phillippa came and stood by her mother. ‘He fancies you, Mama,’ she said, with an air of troubled wonder.
Helewise laughed aloud. ‘That he does, ma petite. He just offered to marry me.’
Phillippa watched the broad steel back riding away. ‘But he’s so old!’ she said.
Ser John met Sister Amicia on the road, and they both dismounted. She had two other sisters with her and a pair of large men with axes. She grinned. ‘I had what you might call a “passage of arms” and decided that a couple of large lads with axes were going to be easy on my conscience,’ she admitted. ‘Boggles. More than I was really ready to handle.’