The High Cardinal had been accompanied by a retinue of clerics from a number of cults. They didn't trust each other – they'd all provided minders to report back – but the commander of the troops was Certinse's man. He had been introduced as Colonel Yeren, though there were only two regiments escorting Certinse rather than a full legion. Isak saw both Count Vesna and Commander Jachen stiffen at the man's name, and Yeren appeared pleased that his reputation, whatever it was, had preceded him.
Behind them Isak heard the horses growing restless. He turned in his saddle and looked at the column of troops stretching back. With the full deployment of the Palace Guard and the army he had a total of seven thousand cavalry with him, and five thousand infantrymen, who were already trailing behind – most likely too far to be of any use when they encountered the enemy. An advance guard, a thousand light cavalry under General Lahk's command, led the way ahead of the main group as they pushed hard to catch up with Suzerain Torl's force.
Isak was accompanied by Suzerains Fordan, Selsetin, Foleh, Lehm and Nerlos, and Scions Tehran and Cormeh, while Saroc, Torl and the newly raised teenager Suzerain Tildek were with the lead army. Each of the suzerains and scions had brought their hurscals as ordered, and at least a division of standing troops. Isak had stopped counting at three dozen wagons just for the heavy cavalry's armour.
Troops in red and yellow livery caught his eye: two regiments of light cavalry, flanking some two dozen mages from the College of Magic. Lesarl's special order had invoked standing agreements with the college, which had provided four of its most able scryers, sixteen battle-mages of varying power and a pair of healers to aid the twenty-odd portly priests of Shotir riding at the back of the column.
And he was expecting more soldiers from Lomin, up to fifteen thousand men. They'd be coming through the only large pass through the mountains, on Lord Chalat's heels, collecting scouts on the way. The band of mountains between Lomin and Scree were home to a mass of small goat-herding villages hidden away in narrow, twisting valleys. The isolation and the savage creatures that roamed the mountain wilderness had made the villagers a tough breed – and the best scouts in Farlan lands.
'It's a good force,' Isak said to himself, shaking off the oppressive mood, 'and I've urgent matters to deal with. Where is the lead army?' he asked Certinse.
'At the Twins, we estimate, if he hasn't passed them by now,' Certinse said, tearing his eyes away from the dead place ahead of them.
'The Twins? Torl must have been pushing them hard.' Isak pictured the dead river channel he'd once travelled down with the wagon-train. The two mountains were two-thirds of the way between Tirah and the Circle City, and no army from the south could stretch its supply lines further than that. There were only half a dozen towns of any significant size on the sparsely populated plains south of the Twins and north of the Circle City.
'It's the sensible thing to do,' Vesna said. 'Keep moving so fast the troops don't have time to think – and it'll allow the dross of peasants who've joined them to fall behind again. That sort of rabble of fanatics, madmen and bandits won't stand in a fight, they'll just get in the way of his cavalry when they try to hide behind them. He knows they're not going to be attacked this side of the Twins, and a crusade runs on its own fire. If he's lucky he can force thirty miles a day out of them – even if it does kill some of the horses.'
Isak nodded. The suzerain was a hard taskmaster, but every night he would walk the camp, talking to his men. A little consideration from the general went a long way in any army. While Suzerain Torl's battered armour and whitening head were not easy to pick out as he prowled the lines of tents, his gold earrings of title gleaming in the firelight marked him as he shared a joke or a drink with the soldiery.
'Every general has his way,' Carel had told Isak. 'You and General Lahk are the rocks they know they can depend on, powerful and unflinching. Vesna's the hero they all wanted to be as boys, and Torl's the father to every man-jack of them – and you better believe men will fight to the death for their father.'
Isak had immediately bristled at the comment and Carel had spent the next five minutes persuading his lord the comment hadn't been a veiled rebuke. The memory of his frail ego almost put a smile on Isak's face, in spite of the sight of Scree.
'Might I ask why you summoned me back?' Certinse asked, breaking his thoughts.
'You may.' Isak said slowly, dragging his thoughts to the present. 'As you know, the situation has changed. I've decided to mobilise the army and-'
'Against whom?' one of Certinse's attending clerics broke in. The priest of Vasle was the smallest of the lot, and had no sign of rank on his blue robes.
Isak had barely even registered the man's existence – and he certainly hadn't expected a lowly unmen to speak to him.
Commander Jachen gave a splutter at the interruption, but it was Suzerain Lehm who spoke first. 'Who in Ghenna's festering depths are you?' he snarled, his hand automatically moving to his weapon and running his thumb along the curved spike on the reverse of his axe, shaped to resemble a thorn in deference to his rose petal crest.
'I am Unmen Eso Kass,' the priest said, hunching his shoulders as he peered up at the suzerain, 'and my question remains; against whom is the army mobilised exactly? I have not yet heard anything regarding the heretic of the Menin.' His thin lips were so bright against his skin they could have been painted.
'Just an unmen?' Lehm said, his anger momentarily blunted by surprise. 'A damn parish priest, and you presume to question the Lord of the Farlan? Get out of my sight before I have you whipped.'
Isak kept silent, knowing he shouldn't even acknowledge the insult, but he felt his hand tighten all the same.
'Kass, you go too far,' Certinse snapped at last. 'Leave us.'
'High Cardinal, this is a holy crusade; the troops must be under the command of the cults, and fighting to destroy the heretics! There is no place in a crusade for political concerns!' the unmen protested.
All around Isak there was an explosion of furious voices. Lehm was not the only one to spur his horse forward but Isak beat them all to it. Quick as a snake he drew a dagger from his belt and threw it straight. It pierced the unmen's eye and Kass's head snapped back, his jaw falling open in an expression of surprise before momentum took him out of the saddle.
The voices stopped as the corpse slid to the ground, slowly enough for Colonel Yeren, who was next to him, to reach out and pluck the knife from the wound. He ignored the blood that sprayed over his horse's flanks as he did so.
'Anyone else,' Isak began quietly, 'who suggests command of my soldiers be taken away from me will also find themselves paying the price for sedition. Is that clear?'
The arrayed clerics were still staring aghast at the twitching body with blood still pouring from the pierced eye. The High Cardinal managed a strangled whimper and a shudder that could have been intended as a nod.
Yeren, by contrast, carefully wiped clean the dagger, a broad smile on his face, as though murdering priests was a commonplace occurrence in his world. 'Perfectly clear, my Lord,' he said cheerfully, nudging his horse forwards as he held the dagger hilt-out towards Isak. 'And might I compliment you on a fine throw?'
Isak ignored the man as Jachen moved to take the dagger from the mercenary. He passed the knife to his lord.