the heart of town, resulting in the heaviest loss there. The Hall of the Craftmasters, the two inns, and dozens of lesser buildings were now only smoldering ruins. Blackened timbers, cracked roof tiles, and scorched stones marked their locations. Fully one third of Crydee had burned before the fire had been brought under control.
Arutha had stood on the wall, watching the hellish glow reflected on the clouds above the town as the flames spread. Then at first light he had led the garrison out, finding the Tsurani already vanished into the forests.
Arutha still chafed at the memory. Fannon had advised Lyam not to allow the garrison out until dawn – fearing it was a ruse to get the castle gates open or to lure the garrison into the woods where a larger force waited in ambush – and Lyam had acceded to the old Swordmaster’s request. Arutha was sure he could have prevented much of the damage had he been allowed to rout the Tsurani at once.
As he rode down the coast road, Arutha was lost in thought. Orders arrived the day before instructing Lyam to leave Crydee. The Duke’s aide-de-camp had been killed, and with the war beginning its third year this spring, he wished Lyam to join him at his camp in Yabon. For reasons Arutha didn’t understand, Duke Borric had not given command to him as expected; instead Borric had named the Swordmaster garrison commander. But, thought the younger Prince, at least Fannon will be less ready to order me about without Lyam’s backing. He shook his head slightly in an attempt to dislodge his irritation. He loved his brother, but wished Lyam had shown more willingness to assert himself. Since the beginning of the war, Lyam had commanded in Crydee, but it had been Fannon making all the decisions. Now Fannon had the office as well as the influence.
‘Thoughtful, brother?’
Lyam had pulled his own horse up and was now beside Arutha, who shook his head and smiled faintly. ‘Just envious of you.’
Lyam smiled his warmest at his younger brother. ‘I know you wish to be going, but Father’s orders were clear. You’re needed here.’
‘How needed can I be where every suggestion I make has been ignored?’
Lyam’s expression was conciliatory. ‘You’re still disturbed by Father’s decision to name Fannon commander of the garrison.’
Arutha looked hard at his brother. ‘I am now the age you were when Father named you commander at Crydee. Father was full commander and second Knight-General in the West at my age, only four years shy of being named King’s Warden of the West. Grandfather trusted him enough to give him full command.’
‘Father’s not Grandfather, Arutha. Remember, Grandfather grew up in a time when we were still warring in Crydee, pacifying newly conquered lands. He grew up in war. Father did not. He learned all his warcraft down in the Vale of Dreams, against Kesh, not defending his own home as Grandfather had. Times change.’
‘How they change, brother,’ Arutha said dryly. ‘Grandfather, like his father before him, would not have sat behind safe walls. In the two years since the war began, we have not mounted one major offensive against the Tsurani. We cannot continue letting them dictate the course of the war, or surely they will prevail.’
Lyam regarded his brother with concern mirrored in his eyes. ‘Arutha, I know you are restless to harry the enemy, but Fannon is right in saying we dare not risk the garrison. We must hold here and protect what we have.’
Arutha cast a quick glance at the ragged townspeople behind. ‘I’ll tell those who follow how well they’re protected.’
Lyam saw the bitterness in Arutha. ‘I know you blame me, brother. Had I taken your advice, rather than Fannon’s …’
Arutha lost his harsh manner. ‘It is not your doing,’ he conceded. ‘Old Fannon is simply cautious. He also is of the opinion a soldier’s worth is measured by the grey in his beard. I am still only the Duke’s boy. I fear my opinions from now on will receive short shrift.’
‘Curb thy impatience, youngster,’ he said in mock seriousness. ‘Perhaps between your boldness and Fannon’s caution, a safe middle course will be followed.’ Lyam laughed.
Arutha had always found his brother’s laughter infectious and couldn’t repress a grin. ‘Perhaps, Lyam,’ he said with a laugh.
They came to the beach where longboats waited to haul the refugees out to the ships anchored offshore. The captains would not return to the quayside until they were assured their ships would not again come under attack, so the fleeing townspeople were forced to walk through the surf to board the boats. Men and women began to wade to the boats, bundles of belongings and small children held safely overhead. Older children swam playfully, turning the event into sport. There were many tearful partings, for most of the townsmen were remaining to rebuild their burned homes and serve as levies in the dukes’ army. The women, children, and old men who were leaving would be carried down the coast to Tulan, the southernmost town in the Duchy, as yet untroubled by either the Tsurani or the rampaging Dark Brothers in the Green Heart.
Lyam and Arutha dismounted, and a soldier took their horses. The brothers watched as soldiers carefully loaded crates of messenger pigeons onto the sole longboat pulled up on shore. The birds would be shipped through the Straits of Darkness to the dukes’ camp. Pigeons trained to fly to the camp were now on their way to Crydee, and with their arrival some of the responsibility for carrying information to and from the dukes’ camp would be lifted from Martin Longbow’s trackers and the Natalese Rangers. This was the first year mature pigeons raised in the camp – necessary for them to develop the homing instinct – were available.
Soon the baggage and refugees were loaded, and it was time for Lyam to depart. Fannon bid him a stiff and formal farewell, but it was apparent from his controlled manner that the old Swordmaster felt concern for the Duke’s older son. With no family of his own, Fannon had been something of an uncle to the boys when they were growing, personally instructing them in swordsmanship, the maintenance of armor, and the theories of warcraft. He maintained his formal pose, but both brothers could see the genuine affection there.
When Fannon left, the brothers embraced. Lyam said, ‘Take care of Fannon.’ Arutha looked surprised. Lyam grinned and said, ‘I’d not care to think what would happen here should Father pass you over once more and name Algon commander of the garrison.’
Arutha groaned, then laughed with his brother. As Horsemaster, Algon was technically second-in-command behind Fannon. All in the castle shared genuine affection for the man, and deep respect for his vast knowledge of horses, but everyone conceded his general lack of knowledge about anything besides horses. After two years of warfare, he still resisted the idea the invaders came from another world, an attitude that caused Tully no end of irritation.
Lyam moved into the water, where two sailors held the longboat for him. Over his shoulder he shouted, ‘And take care of our sister, Arutha.’
Arutha said he would. Lyam leaped into the longboat, next to the precious pigeons, and the boat was pushed away from shore. Arutha watched as the boat dwindled into the distance.
Arutha walked slowly back to where a soldier held his mount. He paused to stare down the beach. To the south, the high bluffs reared, dominated by Sailor’s Grief, which stood upthrust against the morning sky. Arutha silently cursed the day the Tsurani ship crashed against those rocks.
Carline stood atop the southern tower of the keep, watching the horizon, gathering her cloak around her against the sea breeze. She had stayed at the castle, bidding Lyam good-bye earlier, not wishing to ride to the beach. She preferred that her fears not becloud Lyam’s happiness at joining their father in the dukes’ camp. Many times
