Dangerous Offspring Part 21

'It is a silver star on a field vert. A green flag means it's Plainslands, and a silver star is...'

Cyan swung her feet in her stirrups and bounced them off her horse's ribs.

'Shivel. By G.o.d, what has Swallow been teaching you?'

'The harpsichord, mostly. And the violin. She said I have no talent whatsoever. She said even you're better at playing music than I am.'

'I daresay,' Lightning said, with a smile. 'I was unaware your education was inadequate. I did give Swallow funds to hire the best tutors for you.'

'She just brought in the old codger from school. I complained but you never checked...because you can't abide the thought that she could do anything wrong.'

Lightning said nothing.

'Because you keep pretending you love her,' Cyan added.

'I do love her! With all my heart.' Lightning shifted his position in the saddle. 'She is the best musician the Fourlands has ever produced.'

Lord Governor Anelace Shivel greeted us as he pa.s.sed. Then his Select cavalry vanguard followed on, all in green brigandines and small star badges stamped from pewter.

'Look at all these men!' Cyan gasped.

'Yes, and they've been in the Castle's pay ever since they left their manor boundary,' Lightning said. 'That will dent the treasury badly.'

'As if whether we can pay matters any more,' I said, and turned to Cyan. 'You haven't seen anything yet. This is only half of Shivel's Select, from Coutille and Pinchbeck musters. Basilard and Spraint musters are a day or so behindand all his General Fyrd are yet to come.'

Lightning added, 'Governor Shivel has the t.i.tle "lord", so he is able to raise twenty thousand troops or more, and from the sight of these I would say this is the first occasion he has mobilised them all. You see, my dear? Your manor will easily raise enough for you to be Lady Governor.'

'Good incentive to look after your people,' I said. 'Encourage them to multiply and they might replace those we'll lose here. Pregnant women don't get drafted. If they have a large family they can choose who to send.'

'Hark at the cynic,' Lightning said.

'The villages are empty,' I told him. 'San will never do this twice.'

'I think I should lead my fyrd,' Cyan said thoughtfully.

I had thought she wanted to renounce her manorship. I glanced at her, seeing her expression resolving into determination; she was reconsidering her ident.i.ty yet again.

'Certainly not,' Lightning said. 'You don't even know one standard from the next.'

She sat up straight in her saddle for the first time. 'Well, tell me. How do I organise them?'

'I can't believe she doesn't already know this,' I said.

Lightning sighed, 'I blame myself. I'll do something about it as soon as we get back. However, no reason not to start now. Mm...let me see.' He hovered a hand at the weary men riding past in loose formation. 'These are Select troops. Select have the same ranks as the General Fyrd and they are also used as officers for the General Fyrdexcept for the lowest ranks where you can make shift with veteran General Fyrd if you have to. All Selects are trained using the same methods so different manors can fight side by side.

'You will see, after that gapthat's supposed to be a gapa new battalion starting. The fellow on the smart black courser is its warden. The warden leads a battalion of a thousand men. Beside him is the vice-warden, and behind him comes the captain of a division, that one on the stallion.

'The captain leads a divisionthat is, a moraiof five hundred men. The division is comprised of companiesor lamaiof fifty men apiece, and each company is led by a sergeant. A company is split into squads of five to ten men, depending on what you need them forand squads are led by a corporal.'

'I know that one,' said Cyan.

'At least!' Lightning slapped the reins on his saddlebow in mock exasperation.

I said, 'The fyrd has more or less stayed the same since the time of the First Circle.'

'It's an ugly Morenzian word,' said Lightning. 'Each officer has a deputy; you can see the vice-captain walking past us now. The one with the beard. Give him a nod.'

Cyan gave a cutesy nod, and the vice-captain grinned and nudged his mate.

'All right,' said Lightning. 'Don't get carried away. As a governor you can fine anyone, General or Select, who refuses the draft or goes absent without leave; and depending on the circ.u.mstances you can confiscate all their property. Your manor's bureaucracy takes care of that sort of thing.'

Cyan was watching, wide-eyed, realising what she had been missing all this time. 'I want to take part.'

Lightning shook his head. 'No, blood of mine. Not yet.'

'You try to stop me doing everything!'

'It is for your own good.'

'You want me to stay inside playing instruments!'

'NoI'm glad you want to fight. At last you've given me a clear clue as to what you want to do with your life. But you need experience before I give you command. We can't waste Zascai lives. You have no idea what to do, you don't even know the manoeuvre codes. You don't appreciate how terrible the confusion can be in the battle's heat.'

'Tell me and I'll remember.'

'You have no practice yet, my dear. If something changed or went wrong you wouldn't know how to improvise.'

'Of course I do. When you visit Awndyn, your workbattles and huntsis all you talk about!'

'Have you ever seen an Insect close to?'

'Not closer than the ones we've just been watching.'

'And you want to lead men into battle? Everyone would be killed beside you! Our name would be reviled. When the push starts you must not leave town, do you hear me? Continue to learn archery and in a few short years you may lead your fyrd.'

Cyan spat, 'Archery! I'm sick of people foisting their obsessions on me. Every time you visited me all I had was hours of shooting lessons. You just a.s.sume I'm interested. Well, I'm not and I didn't want to take part in your tournamentsor Swallow's music. But this suits me' she waved at the mounted soldiers 'I like this on my own terms, not just to please you. Why should I do archery or music when I'm not interested? I need to find something of my own. Something that's really me.'

Lightning sighed. 'You are proficient with the bow, and at riding, but you can't jump straight in.'

The soldiers were staring at Cyan now and she was heat-hazed with embarra.s.sment, but even more determined to make her point. 'You don't know me at all. Even the presents you bring are the same as when I was a little girl. I liked them then, OK, but I'm grown up now. I'm not a kid! You won't let me fly.'

'What? Only Jant and Insects can fly.'

'I mean metaphorically! I want to be at the centre of things!'

Lightning nodded. 'That is your n.o.ble blood showing. Very well, but you must learn poise.'

'Must learn poise,' Cyan repeated, making fun of his deep voice. 'Typical. What about you, with that thing you keep doing with your hand?'

Lightning looked down and seemed surprised. His right hand was closed and he had been touching the scar across his palm. He snorted disparagingly, then pulled his gloves from under his belt and wiggled his fingers into them. He said, 'We might be redundant soon. I have more important things to think about.'

Cyan persisted: 'What is it with your hand?'

'A scar from my wedding.'

'Savory? All the poise in the world didn't save her.'

'Ah!' Lightning looked at Cyan sharply. 'You have no right! You know nothing of what happened!'

'Well, tell me.'

Lightning took a breath as if he was about to speak, but hesitated and drew into himself. 'Whenever I smell pine I remember her,' he said quietly.

I spoke up. 'Cyan's half-sister has filled her head with all kinds of lies.'

'I can speak to my sisters if I want.'

'Your half-sisters are envious,' Lightning said dismissively. 'They do not have your prospects and they must come to terms with Ata's unpopularity.'

Cyan and Lightning, like a peregrine and its prey, were trying to gain height on the other in the flight of the argument and it was an unsettling spectacle. I told him, 'Cyan's little more than a squab, but I can find her some work. Otherwise she'll just wander around insulting Eszai. If she was my daughter I'd find her something to do.'

He shook his head with a stony expression. 'Jant, if by some freak of nature you had a daughter, you would want to keep her safe. You saw what happened to Swallow. I've seen her lamed in battleand Cyan's mother herself slain. The same will not happen to her.'

Cyan raised her three middle fingers at the troops watching her. She did remind me of her mother, who was more of a rebel than I could ever be, because she had been capable of seeing the whole system and knew how to put her immortality to use. I ameliorate myself to the system, with drugs, because I can only see my own small part, as a Rhydanne does who's used to hunting alone.

Yells broke our sullen silence. Pangare raised her head, ears forward. Riders were galloping up the line, pa.s.sing by the queue and racing towards us at a mad speed. They were at one with their wild skewbald mounts. Their tack and clothes blazed with colour; their flowing black scarves and loose cotton trousers rippled. Red and green pompoms bounced on the bridles, the thick woollen ta.s.sels strung along their reins and the fringes over the horses' foreheads.

'Here's something different,' said Lightning, and twisted around to shout at Cyan. 'Look! The Ghallain gauchos!'

They sped past us and barged into Shivel's column at the gate. Annoyed shouts drifted back. More gauchos charged past. Their saddles were low and minimal, with gaudy numnah rugs underneath, and hoppers full of feathered javelins hanging on both sides. They had gathered transparent Insect wings and lashed them to their cruppers. They had tied on Insect heads by the antennae; and dragged the rest of the carca.s.s behind them on lariats.

A man with a wide scarf around his face rode at their fore, his white trousers tucked into leather chaps. He pulled his horse round so tightly it reared. It pranced up to us sideways, spitting foam. It was so high-spirited it looked like it was about to fly.

'Vir Ghallain!' I shouted.

'Salutations, Comet. Lightning, long time no see.'

'Good to see you,' Lightning managed in Plainslands.

'And I you! And I you! Here are my cavalry, owing to San. Do with them what you will. If you can!'

I said, 'What about your infantry? Where are your draftees? They must be weeks behind!'

Governor Vir pulled his scarf fully down from his mouth and said in a singsong accent, 'They are! My steward, he leads them! Has Brandoch arrived yet?'

'Not by a long way,' I said.

Vir turned to an excitable man in a loose headscarf who turfed his horse to a halt beside us. 'Ull, you see, we beat Brandoch. That's fifty pounds you owe me.' He pointed back up the queue. 'San is here. For San to be here this must be the motherf.u.c.ker of all battles, we said.' He jigged up and down in his worn saddle. 'We can't miss it. Let's see which of us lives!'

'You're a nutter, Vir Ghallain,' I said.

'Nutter enough to Challenge you one day! And put some clothes on. Hey! Hey!' This last to his horse, which bounded forward and he had his back to me before I could take my next breath. Yet more hurtled up the line, churning the muddy ground either side of the road.

'Incredible,' said Cyan.

'Ranchers,' I said.

'There are thousands.'

'Hundreds. He isn't a lord governor,' said Lightning.

I said, 'If you ask me, they're all little kings within the bounds of their manors. They'

'Hush, Jant! Look!'

On the road, Shivel's green livery was thinning out, and behind them, all was scarlet.

'By G.o.d, the Emperor. In armour.'

'I can scarcely believe it.'

The last few lines of Shivel men kept glancing back. They saw the Emperor mounted on black Alezane, with the banners licking the air above him like forked tongues. Shivel men slowed down, walked their horses off the road and stood watching.

As they parted, the Imperial Fyrd rode through, and more of Shivel's infantry gave way before them. I glanced at Lightning; he nodded, and we urged our horses through the crowd.

The Emperor saw us and reined his horse in. Tornado, a step behind him on his right, the standard bearers, and the whole Imperial Fyrd slowed to a halt.

Lightning dismounted and threw himself at the Emperor's feet, on both knees. I heard his greaves grind on the cobbles. I stepped my leg over Pangare's saddle, hopped to the ground and knelt beside him. A couple of quick jingles behind me told me Cyan had done the same.

Seeing us, all the Shivel fyrd dismounted and knelt in a great swathe either side of the road.

Lightning and I looked up to San's face, clean-shaven and expressionless. He wore an open-faced sallet helmet that pushed his fine white hair close to his hollow cheeks, but the wind blew the ends that protruded from underneath.

Every plate of his armour was l.u.s.trousenamelled white with no ornament but the fastenings of a billowing white silk cloak. Suns were damascened on the bare steel scabbard of his ancient broadsword which hung with his shield from the saddlebow.

I managed one glance and bowed my head again.

Peach-coloured shafts of sunlight shone between our horses' sinewy legs. Their musty, sweaty bellies and withers hemmed us in, their hair brushed against the grain in dark streaks, their hocks covered in drying mud. Their shadows were no more than small patches directly beneath them. Pangare flipped her docked tail and pawed the road too close to my head. I looked up to the underside of the Emperor's horse's long chin, as it chewed its bit imperiously.

The first company of the Imperial Fyrd raised a cheer, then the second company, then the third, and when all ten companies had cheered separately, the five hundred men cheered together; a great, deafening wordless roar that went on and on until San raised his free hand. The cheering straggled into silence.

'My lord,' said Lightning, so dry-mouthed I could hear his tongue clicking. 'I'm sorrywe arethat it's come to this. Please...And we'll...We will bring the Insects under control. We will mend our error.'

San rested his reins on his scrollwork saddlebow. 'Lightning, Comet, to your feet. Every second we stay the numbers in our rearguard diminish.'

San's long limbs were encased in armour and, once I'd recovered from the shock of seeing that he actually did have legs, I noticed how thin they were; no muscles on his shanks at all. He must be wearing the cloak to make himself look bigger. I risked a closer glance and saw beads of sweat on his neck. He must be feeling the exertion of wearing armour and riding after fourteen hundred years in the Castle, but it did not tell in his n.o.ble bearing. He showed no sign of strain on his face: his self-control was absolute. He conveyed the same majesty under the open skies as he did sitting at the focal point of the Throne Room.

The pennant-bearers behind him were whey-pale and poker-faced, their jaws clenched, their mouths firm lines. They were telling themselves this wasn't happening. Their set expressions were partly pride that such a role had fallen to them, part anxiety from riding for days in far too close proximity to the Emperor, but mostly the blank-eyed denial of men determined to carry out a job they really didn't want to do.