‘The Eternal Guards you sent should be close to the temple site by now. And there are two hundred Jiamads with them. Some of the latest and most powerful. Even with a few hundred Legend Riders Skilgannon will lose.’
‘That would be a first,’ said Jianna. ‘Leave me now, Unwallis. I need to think.’
‘Yes, Highness,’ he said, with a deep bow. He looked at her and suddenly smiled. ‘May I say something?’
She sighed. ‘Make it brief.’
‘My thoughts are clearer now, and I apologize that my behaviour has been. . foolish. Your gift to me at the palace was exquisite, and I am very grateful. I feel, though, that my attitude since has caused a breach between us. I would like that breach to be sealed. I am, once more, merely Unwallis. And your friend, Highness.’
Jianna was touched, and felt herself relax. ‘You are a good friend.’ Stepping forward she kissed his cheek.
He reddened, bowed once more, and departed. Jianna walked to the rear of her tent, and opened a small, ornate box of carved ebony. From it she took an ancient bronze amulet, covered now in green verdigris. Holding tightly to it she whispered Memnon’s name.
At first there was no response, then it was as if a breeze whispered into the tent, though none of the lanterns flickered. Jianna felt cold and shivered once more. By the far wall an image formed, at first like a shadow against the white, silk-covered canvas. Then it shimmered and Memnon’s image appeared, pale and translucent.
‘There is a problem, Highness?’ he asked.
‘Skilgannon is close to the temple site. He has a small force with him.’
‘I know this, Highness. Legend Riders, and a troop of Jiamads. Be not concerned.’
‘Can we not bring the plan forward?’
‘No, Highness. Timing is essential. Vital, in fact. All will be as you wish it to be. When my messenger comes to you, leave the camp and follow him. I will appear to you then, and ensure that all is well.’
‘The Eternal Guard will not attack until the time is right.’
‘I am with the general. He understands fully what we intend. Be at ease, Highness. Enjoy your victory.
There will be another for you to savour very shortly.’
Chapter Eighteen
For Harad the long, slow trip on the barges was a time for quiet grief. He sat on the narrow deck, surrounded by Jiamads, and watched the land drift slowly by.
Harad had chosen to travel with the beasts because they didn’t talk much, and he found the lightness and banter of the Legend Riders hard to bear. Almost everything had been hard to bear since Charis’s death.
Harad even felt surprise when he heard birdsong coming from the rushes on the eastern bank. It seemed somehow inconceivable that birds should still be singing, or that the sun still shone from a clear blue sky.
The weight of his grief was colossal. But he did not share it, even with Askari, who would occasionally join him, and sit in merciful silence.
They had hired five barges, each pulled by oxen for the first forty miles of the journey. After that, so Skilgannon had been told by the merchant, they would leave the oxen behind and navigate the wider waterways through the mountains until they met the river Rostrias. The soldiers had surrendered all their coin, and Stavut had sold his wagon and contents. Even so they had been far short of the hiring charge, and the cost of the provisions necessary for the trip.
Stavut had haggled with the Master Merchant for some hours, while Decado steadily lost patience. He was all for commandeering the vessels. Skilgannon urged him to stay calm. The Master Merchant was also the local commander of the Corisle militia, and though it would not have been difficult to overcome them Skilgannon wanted to avoid unnecessary deaths. Harad had looked closely at Decado. He seemed paler than usual, and kept rubbing his eyes.
Stavut left the merchant and walked back to where Skilgannon was waiting with Decado, Alahir and the others at the flimsy dock. ‘He says he would be prepared to take your stallion to conclude payment for the trip and the provisions,’ he told Skilgannon.
Skilgannon stood silently for a moment, then approached the merchant. The man was tall and slim, his eyes deep set. He wore a shirt of embroidered blue satin, and his long, grey hair was held back from his face by an ornate headband of filigree silver. ‘You are a man who knows horses,’ said Skilgannon.
‘I breed them for the Eternal Guard,’ said the merchant. ‘They are fastidious about the quality of their mounts. Do we have an agreement?’
‘We do not,’ said Skilgannon. ‘The horse is worth more than your barges.’
‘Then, sadly, I do not see how we can accommodate you.’
Skilgannon chuckled. ‘The Eternal’s army is marching on Agrias. Soon there will be a major battle to the west. Knowing the Eternal as I do, I am sure she will not lose this battle. You are a servant of Agrias.
Your position here will soon become perilous. And yet you quibble over a few coins?’
‘It is a merchant’s nature to quibble over coins. It is how we become rich and buy satin shirts. The problem of who governs this area is one for another day. For today I have five barges, ready to carry you to the Rostrias. I have already offered my best price.’
Decado, who had been listening, stepped forward. ‘Let me cut his miserable throat, then we can take the damned barges.’ Even as he spoke he drew one of his swords and moved towards the merchant.
The Sword of Night swept into Skilgannon’s hand, the blade flashing out to bar Decado’s path.
‘Let us not be hasty, kinsman,’ said Skilgannon softly. For a moment Harad thought Decado was going to attack Skilgannon. Instead he stepped back, his eyes wide and glittering strangely.
‘Why do you want him to live?’ asked Decado. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘I like him.’ Decado shook his head in disbelief and stalked away.
‘Reassuring to be liked, I am sure,’ said the merchant. ‘But the price remains the same.’
‘I will rent you the stallion,’ said Skilgannon. ‘You will loan me one of your own mounts. I would prefer a gelding. You can use the stallion as a stud until my return. Then I shall claim him.’
‘How long will you be gone?’
‘Some weeks at the least.’
‘A dangerous mission?’
Skilgannon laughed aloud. ‘Indeed it is, Master Merchant. I might not survive.’
‘Oh, perish the thought,’ said the man, rising and holding out his hand. ‘It will be as you say. I shall have a gelding brought over immediately. The barges will leave at first light. If your beasts cause any damage to my vessels I shall seek redress upon your return.’
On the evening of the second day of travel, with the sun sinking, Harad went to his usual spot at the rear of the barge to find Decado sitting there. Askari was behind him, gently rubbing his temples. Stavut was close by. Harad eased himself past them without a word and found a place to sit, his back against a sack of grain. Decado was deathly pale.
‘What is wrong with him?’ Harad asked Askari.
‘I don’t know. It was the same when first I found him.’
Decado sighed. ‘The two of you do know I am here, do you?’
Askari laughed. ‘You are feeling a little better.’
‘Yes, the pain is fading a little.’
‘You should eat something,’ said Stavut.
‘A waste of time and energy. I might just as well get the food and throw it over the side. No, my stomach will hold nothing until the pain passes. I will be all right. I know the rhythms of these attacks.
This was not so bad. It will soon be gone.’
‘You get them often?’ asked Stavut.
‘They come and go.’ He looked up at Askari, and there was adoration in his gaze. It made Harad uncomfortable and he glanced at Stavut. The red-garbed merchant looked away, then rose.