The Unsound Prince Read online

  “If you will wait here, Legatus?” queried the sentry, and Ultrich nodded again.

  They were in a room about three paces by four. The earth floor had been beaten smooth and covered with a heavy mat. There were a number of low stools in the traditional manner, which allowed guests to sit with legs folded under them.

  Two of the camp staff glided reverentially in and placed a low table before the guests. The table was piled high with food and drinks. Once finished the staff bowed deeply and left.

  Ultrich wished Porteous was with them. The army commander from Middle March might be grey-headed, but he’d lost none of his planning abilities. When it came to matters of war, Ultrich couldn’t think of anyone better to trade ideas with about the Xaanian invasion than Yeltar.

  Unfortunately, transporting anyone without spirit abilities was impossible. He wasn’t sure the practical nature of the army man would survive the experience either. Ultrich didn’t want his top strategist unhinged!

  His thoughts were interrupted as Yeltar came striding in. The Beltainian commander hoisted Ultrich to his feet.

  “Damn sentries should have brought you straight to me. How can you see what we’re up to if you can’t see the situation board?”

  Ultrich grabbed Yeltar’s free hand in both of his, and shook it vigorously.

  “Good to see you too, you old ham actor!” he said, grinning broadly. He found Yeltar’s impassioned speeches at court quite moving, but he still gave the Beltainian ruler a hard time about it.

  “Don’t start that again!” said Yeltar, raising a warning finger. Then he led the three of them out of the room and down a corridor of hanging cloth. They emerged into a large room in the middle of the tent.

  At one end of the room stood a large flat table on trestles. This was the ‘situation board’. A map of the area had been drawn on it, with Taire Valley taking the central position. Carved wooden figures in Yeltar’s crimson and gold showed the positions of the Beltainian troops.

  To the east, where the endless Xaanian desert began, a cluster of black and red discs had been lined up on the Desert Trade Route. At this stage the exact position of the Xaanian forces was unknown, but they would be at the border soon.

  The two men fell to discussing manoeuvres for the battle. Yeltar intended to draw the attacking force into Taire Valley, and deal with it on a battlefield of his own making.

  “I don’t think there are too many trees in the desert,” he said archly, “so that’s something the Xannians are not used to. The firm ground here should give our cavalry an edge, too.”

  “The longer you can make their supply lines the better,” said Ultrich, looking over the plan. “Have you thought of using the forest to circle round behind them, once the fighting has started, to attack their baggage train and reserve troops?”

  Yeltar nodded. Then his look grew serious.

  “If I have enough troops for that, Legatus.”

  He looked up at the man who was his greatest ally, as well as his friend.

  “Any help you can give me, and the people of Beltainia, would be greatly appreciated.”

  Ultrich closed his eyes. He didn't want to let his friend down, but there was little he could do. Cinnabar stepped in and told the Guardian about the outpouring of Xaanian troops along all three trade routes.

  “If the League doesn’t stop the south-marching army at Rotor Valley Pass, we’ll lose control of the Scion Kingdoms, and the mines they contain,” said Ultrich.

  “We’ll also have thousands of villagers displaced into the Marches. Our stores of food are going to be stretched supplying our troops, without extra mouths to feed.”

  He paused. “We can’t be of much use to Beltainia until we’ve secured our own borders,” he finished bluntly.

  Yeltar was silent. He hadn’t been expecting this answer. Then he steeled himself. If you couldn’t reshape your plans as circumstances changed, you didn’t deserve to be a ruler.

  “It can’t be helped, my friend,” he said softly.

  “How long before the other Independant Kingdoms can assemble their forces?” said Ultrich.

  Yeltar grimaced. “That’s the problem. They’ve relied on Beltainia to keep the peace for so long now, their armies are largely hereditary, and untrained. They’re armies in name only.

  “Beltainia is by far the largest of the Kingdoms,” he continued, “so I can’t expect as many troops from the others. Wensh backs onto The Wilderness, so it has a battle-hardened force along that border to control brigands and the like. They’re already on their way.

  “Its island colony Thyrox has a strong navy, because of the pirate threat along the coast. In the north Martilees maintains companies of skirmishers to keep the Wild Men of the Northern Waste at bay.

  “I can count on experienced troops from some of those areas, but anything else would be an untrained rabble. Willing enough, but little more than lambs to the slaughter.”

  Ultrich nodded. It was a familiar problem. A war on such a large scale needed a lot of lead-in time. There was training, preparation, and supply lines, let alone the support functions like healers and tents. He faced the same problems running the Karnatic League.

  “What do you need most?” said Ultrich.

  “Columns of armoured horse,” said Yeltar, without hesitation.

  Ultrich saw what he meant. The Xaanian mounted archers were well trained and highly mobile. Their horses were light, and manoeuvrable. The archers were the greatest threat Beltainia faced. The metal cladding on the armoured horse columns of the southern lands more than outweighed this.

  It was unfortunate the plains of the Independent Kingdoms produced very little metal for an extravagance like armour.

  “I'll send you what I can," said Ultrich, "but it may be some time away yet."

  Yeltar nodded.

  "I’ll hold them as long as I can," he said. "Then I’ll fall back to a position on the border with Glocks. The available troops from the other Kingdoms will be sailing soon for Thebes. They can march from the port to meet us there."

  Ultrich approved of the plan. Yeltar would make the Xaanian forces pay dearly at Taire Valley, then fall back to a new position. Once there he would pick up reinforcements, and rest his troops. He would be buying time at Taire Valley for the rest of the Independent Kingdoms to mobilise their forces.

  "Expect a little help from me when the battle is at its height," said Ultrich enigmatically. "Do you still have quantities of firecake available?"

  The hard black cake was produced occasionally by the region’s alchemists in their endless investigations into the nature of matter. It flared brightly when it was ignited.

  Yeltar had already put it to use as a means of sending a signal. A succession of flashes from hilltop to hilltop at night could send a simple message across Beltainia very quickly.

  Yeltar looked sideways at him. Ultrich smiled. "I want to show you a little trick with that stuff," he said. The two rulers huddled together over a sheet of paper as Ultrich sketched diagrams. These were the items he wanted Yeltar's alchemists to produce.

  Yeltar nodded his understanding.

  It ended up being a very useful meeting. The armies on both sides would be better prepared due to the matters they had discussed, and morale would be at a high when the spirit walkers returned to Karnassus.

  ***

  As the cart rumbled toward the mountains the day was already bright and sunny. One or two villagers in the fields looked up as the cart went by. The journey wasn't easy for Bear, lying flat on the deck of woven branches, though his friends had made him as comfortable as they could.

  The bleeding from the deep cuts to his shoulder and chest had stopped. A night of healing sleep, and Arnima’s skills at binding his wounds, had helped enormously, but he was weak.

  There was little jolting from the cart while they were on a reasonably flat surface, but it wouldn't stay like that for long. Mudge could see the track becoming much worse when they reached the mountains.

&nbs
p; "Isn't there some way we can help Bear," he said to Arnima, as they trudged along behind the cart. "At least make it easier for him while we cross the mountains."

  She looked at him for a moment.

  "No," she said at last. "Nothing beyond helping his body repair itself, which we’re already doing."

  Any hope Mudge had that she would miraculously heal Bear, like she had Senovila, evaporated. She would have her reasons for not offering that skill. Perhaps it was only possible for her to do such a thing for someone she was bound closely to.

  The travellers came to the foothills in the late morning, and followed a narrow plain beside a winding river. Then the track led into a gorge. They made reasonable time, until the river veered off into an impassable defile it had cut through a rocky hillside. The path turned a different way, and zigzagged up a steep slope.

  Senovila took one look at the climb and decided it was time for the midday meal, while they thought through their options. The Rangers unpacked the metal cones, and got some food under way.

  Senovila and Ochren dismantled the cart, and packed the parts onto the horses. Colma transformed the woven branches from the deck of the tray into a stretcher to carry Bear.

  When the meal was over they filled the water bottles from a nearby trickle of water, and prepared for the climb. Colma and Mudge transferred Bear to the stretcher, and wrapped him tightly onto it with a blanket. He would be going up head first, carried by two of them at a time.

  The trip to the top was arduous. The afternoon sun blazed down on their heads. The horses, with their heavy loads, needed constant encouragement on the narrow path. The travellers took the packs of the stretcher-bearers to help them along. Bear was awake for a while, and assured them he was more comfortable than he had been on the cart.

  Arnima repacked Bear’s wounds when they rested half way up the track. The packing had been stained through, but it was the clear weeping of a healthy wound.

  They had all had enough of the winding track by the time they reached the top of the ridge. It was some time before Mudge’s breathing had eased. Then he noticed the glorious views.

  The river they had left behind was a tiny trickle in the valley, far below. The compound where they'd stayed the night was a toy fort in the distance. It was even possible to see the coast and the Trading Seas, far away on the other side of the Marches.

  Mudge pulled his long greatcoat more tightly around him, and turned to look toward the remaining mountains.

  He saw another range of peaks looming over them, and his heart sank. That was where the rock and scree really began. The peaks were still heavy with winter snows, even this far into spring. The passes between the mountains were deep in shadow, and they would be frozen, inhospitable places. The journey ahead wasn't going to be easy.

  Arnima called him over. He noticed for the first time Bear’s pale colour, and the sweat on his brow. He had thought his friend was merely asleep, but now he saw how deeply unconscious Bear was.

  “One of his lungs is filling with fluid,” said Arnima with concern. “A talon must have punctured it.”

  “What can we do?’ said Mudge. It was distressing to hear his friend's laboured breathing.

  “Not much while we’re on the move,” said Arnima bluntly, “but don’t worry, he’s young and strong. There’s plenty of life left in him yet.”

  They followed the ridge for the rest of the afternoon, before beginning to descend into a dry, sheltered valley. They were well above the tree line now, with little shelter, but it was time to make camp for the night. Senovila unpacked the horses, and turned them out to make the best of the dry grasses.

  Mudge had been sensing something malevolent tracking them since the top of the ridge. Now he had the chance to find out what it was. While the others made camp, he sat with his back against a boulder and made himself comfortable. Then he closed his eyes, and sent his spirit senses out over the hills and mountains.

  Two of the winged creatures were working their way along the tops of the mountain range, and he sensed them immediately. They would have been dots against the highest peaks, if seen by human eyes. They were hidden from view by a dark spirit veil, something Mudge saw as a grey fog moving against the mountains.

  He travelled out on his farsight, effortlessly covering the distance to the high mountain peaks. He drew alongside one of the creatures, and examined it more closely. The fabric of the dark spirit veil was different, unlike anything the Priatic Order of Mysteries taught. It was a strange thing, built of raw emotion. There was nothing of the natural patterns of the world in it.

  Greed drove the creature, or drove the thing that made it, and there were traces of anger, and rage, in the fabric of the veil.

  Mudge teased cautiously at the spirit veil with his mind. The brooding, instinctive creature within the veil didn’t respond. It flew on, scanning the mountains below, unaware of his presence.

  He pushed the spirit veil this way and that. He saw how it was constructed, and how it could be undone. He worked at it until he was sure he could unravel any spirit veil like this, should he meet one again.

  Pleased with his efforts, he turned away from the giant flying lizard, and returned across the long, chilly distance to his body.

  It took a while until he felt he was himself again, but then he could feel the rock against his back and the wind across his face. He rose, and went in search of Ochren.

  The senior Ranger understood immediately how exposed they were to the creatures that were hunting them. Mudge and his companions packed up quickly and hurried into the valley. They hoped there would be some cover further down.

  They made good time, even slowed by the need to stretcher Bear along, but it was growing dark as they headed down the last slope to the valley floor. Then Mudge felt a presence, and twisted one arm upwards until he was pointing straight at it. He unravelled the spirit veil in the skies above them with his mind.

  There was a screech of rage, and two of the creatures appeared above them. They caught the last rays of the sun as they wheeled lower and lower. The horses reared, and jerked at their lines.

  The travellers increased their speed down the slope, but the trees at the bottom of the valley were too far away. The creatures above them were gaining too rapidly

  Ochren shouted a command, and the group veered across the slope toward a group of large boulders. Colma and Liam were the last to reach them, and they carried Bear into safety as the first of the creatures soared low overhead. It hissed its frustration as they ducked out of reach.

  The horses were the worst of their problems for the next few moments. Senovila finally got the two war stallions backed into the deepest of the recesses among the boulders. Then he blinkered their eyes.

  It seemed like a stand-off. Then Mudge felt the presence of another of the creatures as it landed further down the slope. Its sudden arrival cut the party off from the forest on the valley floor.

  Mudge sensed the otter-like creatures on its back, and called a warning to Ochren. It was getting dark, and the Rangers hurried to find flare torches in their packs. It wasn’t long before the area was bathed in flickering light.

  The Rangers were just in time. A number of dark shapes bounded out of the darkness, and into the torchlight around the boulders. Several of them fell, pierced by Ranger arrows, and that forced them back to the edge of the torchlight. More of the winged creatures circled above them, looking for signs of weakness.

  Mudge edged over to Ochren.

  “How long will the torches last?” he whispered.

  “Not that long,” said the Ranger. “We’ve got two in reserve, but we can’t keep this up for ever.”

  “We need every bow if we’re going to make a run for the pine forest,” said Mudge, “but the stretcher will take two of us out of action.”

  “Well, that’s the only course of action we’ve got,” said the Ranger, “unless you can think of something, and think of it fast.”

  Mudge knew he had to find an answer to
their predicament with his spirit walker skills, but how? He’d been thinking of ways to make their progress over the mountains easier, and he wondered if he could use one of them now.

  He left the others to keep back the attackers, and found a place where two of the boulders formed a long passageway. He seated himself at the head of it, with the other end pointing down into the forest below. When he’d focused his mind he reached out into the valley, sending a spirit call.

  He waited a moment, and thought he detected a reply from the forest below. It was followed by another. He called again, and a scuffle of tiny feet flicked loose stones aside as something headed straight for Mudge. It stopped in front of him. Another presence scampered across a boulder on his left, then brushed passed him to disappear into an old animal hole under one of the boulders.

  Mudge crooked his fingers, and a thought form tightened around the presence in front of him. It coalesced into a ball of pale fire. After a brief battle of wills, the sprite appeared to him in its true form.

  Mudge was surprised. The sprites here were taller, and looked more intelligent, if that was ever a word to describe a sprite. They were dressed in clothing made from a woven fibre, which was unusual, though that was probably just another spritely illusion.

  “We acknowledge you as master,” said the sprite grudgingly.

  That was new as well. The sprites around Shaker’s Hope would never have made such a statement. They wouldn’t have spoken to him unless they were commanded to.

  There was the sharp crack of giant wings as several of the flying creatures descended above the boulders, while the otter creatures on the ground made a concerted rush.

  Mudge could hear Ochren yelling commands, and the sharp hiss and thump as arrows struck home. There was more harsh screeching from above them, and then the creatures were gone, disappearing back into the night.

  Mudge explained to the sprite what he wanted it to do.

  A look of cunning came over the sprite.

  “Does the young master ask for a boon?” it said in a silky voice.

  Mudge hesitated. He could command them to do his bidding, because he was more powerful than they were. On the other hand he didn’t like to think of himself as a dictator, even with such unthinking elementals as forest sprites.