‘course of action’ do you advise me to take, Brother Gilbert?”
“I would advise that you are only one step away from the throne, my Lord Duke Borneheld. Priam is childless, and you are the heir,” Gilbert said very softly, his eyes steady on Borneheld’s. “I would advise that you take that one step closer. We need, Achar needs, a King whose loyalties and resolve are uncompromised, who can lead us to victory against the Forbidden.”
There was complete and utter silence in the room as Borneheld stared at Gilbert.
At dawn Borneheld met with his senior commanders; Duke Roland of Aldeni, Earl Jorge of Avonsdale, and the savage Ho’Demi who, by virtue of commanding eleven thousand men, sat at Borneheld’s table with Gautier and Timozel.
They reviewed the system of canals which the majority of Borneheld’s men were digging. Borneheld knew that a battle fought against the Skraelings on their terms was virtually unwinnable. Now he would fight the Skraelings on his terms.
He and his commanders had planned a massive series of deep canals between the rivers Azle and Nordra that they would flood when finished. The Skraelings hated water and avoided it whenever possible. If they attacked in force Borneheld hoped they would be driven by the twisting system of canals into small pockets and envelopes where Borneheld’s men could pick them off relatively safely.
It was a bold move, but one that all agreed might just work. Especially since the Skraelings had spread themselves so thinly over Ichtar that it would take Gorgrael months to build up a force strong enough to try to push further south. For ten weeks every soldier, plus thousands of ordinary Acharites who were within reasonable distance, had been out digging the canals. Each would be twenty paces wide and more than ten deep, and the entire system of canals would provide a watery barrier almost fifteen leagues wide.
“It is looking good, gentlemen,” Borneheld said cheerfully. “Jorge, you have been in charge of the western series of canals. When will they be ready to flood?”
“In two days, WarLord.”
“Good!” Borneheld slapped Jorge on the back. “And Roland, your canals are already flooded?”
Roland nodded. What could have happened to put Borneheld in such a good mood?
“Ho’Demi.” Borne held turned to the Ravensbundman. “What do your scouts report?”
Ho’Demi shrugged a little and his hair gently chimed with the slight movement. “Very little activity within two leagues north of here, Lord Duke, though above that distance Skraelings scurry about in small bands. But they seem disorganised. I doubt they will have the strength to attack for some time yet.”
“And they will certainly not attack through the warmer months,” Borneheld said. “In a week spring will be upon us. Gentlemen! I feel more positive than I have for months! I think we will not only be able to hold the Skraelings with this watery line of defences, but start our reconquest of Ichtar within only a few months.”
He beamed at the surrounding men, ignoring the bemused expressions on Roland’s, Jorge’s and Ho’Demi’s faces.
“So!” Borneheld rubbed his hands together. “This is the perfect time for me to make a quick journey down the Nordra to confer with Priam. Besides, Faraday seems … ill … not herself. Perhaps it would be best if she could see the physicians at the court of Carlon. We will be leaving this afternoon.”
“Borneheld!” Roland said. “You can’t just leave Jervois Landing like this!”
Jorge concurred. “You are needed more here than in Carlon, WarLord!”
“My dear comrades,” Borneheld replied, “with such competent men already in Jervois Landing you can well afford to lose me for a few weeks. Timozel, you will travel with Faraday and myself. Pick a small contingent of men to travel with us and organise some river transport. I want to leave by dusk. Gautier, my good friend, I leave you in charge of Jervois Landing. Roland, Jorge and Ho’Demi will give you their full support as they would give it to me.”
He looked carefully at the three men, each of whom fought to restrain their shock. Gautier?
Finally all three inclined their heads. “As you wish, WarLord,” Jorge said quietly.
“As I wish,” Borneheld said menacingly. “Always as I wish. I will not countenance treachery. Timozel? You have much work to do before we can leave this evening. Get to it.”
Timozel’s face was pale, and uncharacteristically he stood his ground, ignoring Borneheld’s orders. “Great Lord,” he began. “Surely I would be better left to command the troops here in Jervois Landing?”
“What?” Borneheld glared at him. “Do you think to contradict me, stripling?”
Timozel swallowed, but his eyes were bright, fanatical. “Lord, you know what I have seen –”
“I know what now I see!” Borneheld shouted. “I need you in Carlon, Timozel! Your place is at my side … and Faraday’s, of course,” he added, as an afterthought. His voice regained its strength. “And if you demonstrate that you are incapable of following orders then the only command you will receive is of a blanket in a cell. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Lord,” Timozel mumbled. When would Borneheld pass command over to him? He suppressed a niggling doubt. All would be well. It would.
“It is a sadness to see your parents go their separate ways after so many years.” MorningStar sighed. “But historically it was entirely expected.”
Axis looked at his grandmother, puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“Axis. We SunSoars are a peculiar family. Our blood calls to each other so strongly that if we marry out of the family then we generally marry badly.”
Axis frowned. Today he, Rivkah, Azhure, Raum and the two Sentinels were starting their trek down through the mountain passes to the Avar groves to celebrate Beltide. “You marry each other, MorningStar? How can that be?”
MorningStar shrugged. “SunSoars are only happy when they marry each other, Axis. No, don’t look so horrified. None of us has gone mad yet. Well, not very many of us,” she muttered, half to herself. “Generally every second generation SunSoar cousins will marry each other. RushCloud, my husband, was also my first cousin. FreeFall and EvenSong, both first cousins, would have married. This pattern of marriages has kept our blood strong over the years.”
“And the generation that marries outside the family – their marriages … ?”
“Are generally passable at best, but often miserably unhappy. RavenCrest is SunSoar, but BrightFeather is not. They respect each other, but they share no passion. While RushCloud and I,” MorningStar smiled slowly, “lived our lives among the stars. Like FreeFall and EvenSong, we became lovers at thirteen.”
“Lovers at thirteen?” Axis was appalled.
