“We’ll also send word to the Eorhil and the Seordah,” Dahrena added. “If they respond as they did before, the full army will number more than twenty thousand. But it will take weeks to marshal them. Enough time for the Horde to cross in strength whilst their vanguard wreaks havoc on the settlements to the north.”
Vaelin reclined in his chair, regarding the lines Adal had drawn on the map. They had ridden hard to be back at the tower before nightfall where Adal selected one of the more detailed maps of the Reaches from the collection in the Lord’s chamber. From outside came the tumult of men readying for war as North Guard and Captain Orven’s men sharpened their steel and saddled their horses. He had hoped the days of maps and battle plans were behind him, that here in the Reaches there would be no more need to orchestrate slaughter, but as ever, war contrived to find him. He took some solace from the fact that the blood-song was strangely muted, not entirely devoid of warning, but free of the strident urgency he recalled from when he had planned the attack at the Lehlun Oasis, the plan that cost Dentos his life.
“How strong was the Horde when it came before?” he asked.
“We can only guess, my lord,” Adal said. “They moved in a great mass and formed no ranks or regiments. Brother Hollun’s official history puts the figure at over one hundred thousand, including children and old folk. The Horde was not so much an army as a nation.”
“The northern settlements have been warned?”
Dahrena nodded. “Gallopers were sent as soon as the news reached us. They will be readying their own defences, but their numbers are small and without help they won’t last long.”
“Very well.” Vaelin rose. “Captain, sound your muster. Choose good men to take charge of the levies and secure the tower and the town against siege. We will lead the North Guard and the King’s men north to provide what aid we can to the settlers.”
“Over half my guardsmen are posted throughout the Reaches,” Adal pointed out, his gaze flicking to Dahrena. “That gives us barely fifteen hundred men.”
“All the better.” Vaelin lifted his canvas-wrapped bundle from the table and went to the stairwell. “We’ll ride so much faster. Lady Dahrena, I realise you may wish to remain here, but I must request that you accompany us.”
She frowned in surprise and he knew she had been preparing an argument against being left behind. “I . . . shall be glad to, my lord.”
They rode hard until the night grew dark, making camp in the foothills about twenty miles north of the tower. Alornis had been furious as he said good-bye at the tower steps, but he remained adamant. “Battle is no place for an artist, sister.”
“And what am I supposed to do?” she said. “Just sit around for days worrying over your fate?”
He took hold of her hands. “I doubt these are capable of remaining idle.” He pressed a kiss against her forehead and went to where a guardsman stood holding Flame’s reins. “Besides,” he said, climbing into the saddle, “I need you to be seen about the place. The presence of the Tower Lord’s sister will reassure the townsfolk. No doubt many will be asking for news. Tell them everything is well in hand.”
“And is it?”
He trotted closer, leaning down and speaking softly. “I have no idea.”
The North Guard demonstrated an effortless ability to form a camp within what seemed like moments, fires readied, horses tethered, saddles stacked and pickets posted with no shouted orders or instruction from Captain Adal. The King’s Guard made something of a contrast with their neatly aligned fires and tents, plus an end-of-day inspection from Captain Orven who fined two men for poorly polished breastplates.
“Makes a change from the desert, eh, my lord?” he said, joining Vaelin at the fire he shared with Dahrena and Adal. He had found a wolf fur from somewhere and tugged it about his shoulders before blowing into his hands.
“You were at the Bloody Hill?” Vaelin asked.
“I was. My first battle in fact. Took an Alpiran lance in the leg during the last charge, lucky for me. The healers took me to Untesh and put me on a ship back to the Realm. Otherwise, I’d’ve been at the King’s side when the city fell.”
“They killed everyone but him, didn’t they?” Dahrena asked.
“Indeed, my lady. I’m the only survivor from my entire regiment.”
“Seems Alpirans are just as savage as the Horde, then,” Adal commented. “My people have many stories of the oppression they suffered at the hands of the Emperors.”
“They weren’t savages,” Vaelin said. “Just angry. And not without good reason.” He turned to Dahrena. “I need to know more about the Horde. Who are they? What do they want?”
“Blood,” Adal said. “The blood of any not born into their Horde.”
“That’s their creed? Death to all outsiders?”
“It’s what they do. We never had any notion of their creed. The language they speak is an unfathomable babble of clicks and snarls, and any prisoners we took were too savage to keep alive long enough to get any sense from them.”
“I heard they fight with beasts,” Orven said. “Giant cats and hawks.”
“That they do,” Adal said. “We were fortunate they never had more than a few hundred of the cats. Not an easy thing to stand in ranks facing a charge from those monsters, I can tell you. The spear-hawks, though, they had those by the thousand, screaming out of the sky to tear at your eyes. Even today, you’ll see many a man in the Reaches sporting an eyepatch.”
“How did you beat them?” Vaelin asked.
“How is any battle won, my lord? Guts, steel and”-Adal glanced at Dahrena with a small grin-“good intelligence of the enemy’s dispositions.”
Vaelin raised his eyebrows at her. “Good intelligence?”
She gave a somewhat forced yawn and got to her feet. “If you gentlemen will excuse me. I should rest for the morrow’s journey.”
Two more days’ riding brought them to the first settlement, a stockaded clutch of dwellings in the shadow of a ridge-back mountain, the southern slopes marked by numerous mine-works. They were greeted at the gate by a North Guard sergeant and a greatly worried town factor.
“Any news, my lady?” the factor asked Dahrena, sweat-damp hands clasping and releasing. “How long before they fall upon us?”
“We’ve seen no sign of them yet, Idiss,” Dahrena assured him. There was a tightness to her voice that spoke of a palpable dislike. She gestured at Vaelin. “Do you have no greeting for your Tower Lord?”
“Oh, of course.” The man gave Vaelin a hurried bow. “My apologies, my lord. Welcome to Myrna’s Mount. We are very pleased to see you.”
“Any word from the other settlements?” Vaelin asked him.
“None, my lord. I fear for them.”
“Then we’d best not linger.” Vaelin turned Flame away from the gate, pausing as the factor reached out to clutch at his reins.
“But surely, my lord, you can’t leave us. We have just two hundred miners with swords, and only a dozen North Guard.”
Vaelin looked at the man’s hand on his reins until he removed it. “A good point, sir.” He raised his gaze to the North Guard sergeant. “Gather your men. You ride on with us.”
The sergeant glanced at Adal, receiving a nod in response, then marched off to collect his men.
“You leave us defenceless!” Idiss cried. “Naked before the Horde.”
“Then you have my leave to make for North Tower,” Vaelin told him. “The road behind us is clear. But if you care for this place and its people, perhaps you would prefer to stay and fight for them.”
Idiss, it transpired, had a fast horse, raising a sizeable cloud of dust in its wake as he galloped south.
“The head of the Miners Guild has agreed to take on the factorship,” Dahrena advised, emerging from the gate an hour later. “At my urging they’ve armed the womenfolk too, which gives them over three hundred and fifty swords to hold the wall.” She mounted her mare and met Vaelin’s gaze. “Idiss is a cowardly, greed-shrivelled soul, but he was right. If the Horde come, this place will fall in an hour, at most.”