DragonCrown Saga - The Grand Crusade Part 23

"Why?" Resolute's nostrils flared. "Why should I wait for you to say anything? What have you been since our homeland fell? You have been a canker on society. Alcida welcomes us, yet what do you do but prey on the people of Yslin. Worse yet, when a call was made for all keepsakes of Vorquellyn, you withheld something vital. You have done nothing to help redeem our home, so I owe you nothing."

Resolute had expected Predator to take umbrage at his words. He expected the thief to launch himself at Resolute, along with the other members of the Grey Mist. He had intended his words to enflame Predator's pa.s.sions, but instead each one seemed to shame him. With each sentence the thief's head bowed and his shoulders slumped a bit more.

"You are right, Resolute. You owe us nothing. We have caused trouble. Our work could have convinced men that we were not worth saving, that our homeland was not worth redeeming. While we did save the Norrington in Yslin, that might well have been too little, too late."

Resolute nodded slowly. "Your point?"

"My point is this." Predator looked at the figures lurking in darkness. "It's time we did something right.

We're going to Vorquellyn with you."

"You're what?" Resolute couldn't cover his surprise. He wasn't certain what was worse: having a pack of thieves join him, or the fact that his destination was common enough knowledge that the worst of the slum-dwellers in Yslin had heard of it-and with enough time to travel to Otedo. "I want explanations, and I want them now."

"Ships have been plying the waters from Narriz to Yslin, and they've seen other ships. We all know the fight is going to be in Saporicia." Predator's features sharpened. "Amends is still getting up a militia of sorts, all fancy dressed to fight the war. The lot of us realized that if things are going to happen, you'll be in the thick of it. We remembered the Norrington Prophecy, about Vorquellyn being redeemed. We know you'll be part of it, so we came to join you."

"The Norrington is dead."

That revelation staggered Predator. "He is? Will? That little roof-runner?"

Resolute nodded solemnly. "He died preventing his father from killing a dragon."

Predator shook his head. "That can't be. If he's dead..."

"Then your trip is wasted," Resolute concluded.

Banausic held his hands up. "Listen to them, Resolute."

"Unlike you, Banausic, I do not have time to waste with gutter sc.u.m that can be distracted by shiny leaves and sour ale." He glared at Predator. "Go home."

Predator's head came up. "No."

The silver-eyed Vorquelf folded his arms across his chest. "There is nothing here for you. Go home."

The thief looked puzzled. "Oracle said..."

"She said what? She told you that you had to come here?" Oracle was the reason for his journey, and she'd already saddled him with Banausic. Now it seemed her meddling had brought him a dozen city-dwelling elves. For a moment, all the aggravation he'd known trying to teach Will Norrington how to survive in the countryside came back to him. In its wake came a wave of melancholy that broke his anger.

Predator replied in a small voice. "She didn't tell us anything, Resolute. I just remember the prophecy.

She said Vorquellyn would be redeemed. You've said that for a long time, too. You know, you're not the only one who wants to see that."

He turned and opened his arms, taking the others in. "You think we don't care because we just stayed in Yslin's slums and paid no attention to anything but ourselves and our concerns. You judge us all by yourself, but we aren't as strong as you. You think we didn't care, but we did and do. It just hurt to think of it being so far away."

"You could have done something, Predator."

"What, Resolute?" The thief laughed. "Amends and his ilk have worked on generations of men, trying to ingratiate themselves. It did no good, and they never convinced either the humans or our other brethren to launch an attack. What other course was left to us? To do what you did?"

Resolute nodded solemnly. "Exactly."

"Oh, Resolute, you've forgotten, haven't you? The brothers Right and Might, Victory-you knew her-Seethe even, and dozens of others. All of them walked the same path you do, but you now walk it alone. They're all dead, and Vorquellyn is no closer to being free."

"This is not a path for the weak."

"I know." Predator held out a hand. "So show us how to be strong."

Resolute snarled and balled his fists. "There isn't time to show you."

"We're not helpless, you know."

Resolute shook his head. "This will take more than stowing away aboard some Alcidese supply ship."

Light laughter sounded from the shadows.

Predator smiled. "We didn't stow away."

"Then how did you get here?"

"Loquellyn once gifted one of their galleys to the Kings of Alcida." Predator shrugged. "They didn't know how to use it, so we borrowed it."

"How did you...?"

Predator's chin came up. "You were very young when our homeland was lost. I might not yet have been bound, but I had served on a galley my uncle commanded."

Resolute frowned. "I saw no silverwood shark in the harbor here."

"Of course not. We have it hidden in the swamps. Most of the crew is still with it."

"How many?"

"A legion or so, including some healers who wanted to come."

Resolute's eyes narrowed. "How did you know to come here?"

More light laughter sounded from the shadows and color came to Predator's cheeks. "We got here by accident. I know how to make the ship work. Navigation, on the other hand... We were trying for Narriz and ended up here. Oracle said..."

"Oracle said you were meant to be here."

"Yes. Look, Resolute, I didn't find Narriz but I know I can get us to Vorquellyn."

"No, we'll go up the Varasena."

"But that will only get us to the headwaters, then it's overland through Loquellyn. We'll have to get another ship. Let's just strike out from here."

Resolute c.o.c.ked his head. "You said you wanted to come with me, correct?"

"Yes, but..."

"Then you will go where I go. I have my orders." He thought for a moment, then nodded. "Bring your ship into the harbor. We'll leave in a day or two, once we get provisions. Is there a problem with that?"

"No, no, we can do that." Predator gave him a dark stare. "The Norrington's really dead?"

"The Norringtondied. Oracle says he's waiting for us on Vorquellyn."

"All the more reason we should get there by the quickest route."

"We will." Resolute smiled. "You'll just have to row fast, then walk faster."

General Pandiculia gave them whatever provisions they needed. She stood at the river quay as the Vorquelves brought the silverwood ship up the Varasena, docked, and began to load it. She shook her head as she watched them work, then smiled at Resolute. "Interesting crew you have there."

"Utterly lacking in discipline, scruples, and combat experience." He sighed. "I'll keep them out of the city so you don't have to deal with the aftermath of their thieving ways."

"Actually, I was thinking I'd trade you crack troops for them. They are actually working well. My troops, as you saw on the road, are just going to be slow. We'll never make the rendezvous with Alexia on time."

"You have my sympathy."

"And you, mine." She stared distantly toward the northeast. "I don't expect our paths to cross again. I wish you luck."

"I extend to you the same. I'll send reports if I can."

She shrugged. "Save the reports. Just kill things."

Resolute laughed. "As you desire, General."

She headed out to get her own troops moving, so Resolute helped with the loading and expedited matters. By midday the ship was ready to go. The Grey Misters took to the oars and began to propel the ship up the river. While quarters were cramped, ample room was found for everyone in the party, with Rym's box being lashed to the deck between the mast and aftcastle.

In the forecastle, Resolute could look down into the rowers' galleys and watch them pulling hard on long oarlike levers that connected to the gears and belts that drove a paddle wheel at the ship's aft. The ship, which rode far lower in the water than any human ship, still moved up the river with fair speed-even though they sailed against the current.

Predator's numberingo f the crew was not off by much, but calling them a legion W#sasoremisaPplication of that word. At least a quarter of them he'd &.

o mtifc Hw t.i.t Ppq t>ressg^romthe wastrels. Vorquelves who had been bound to the island found themselves inSucn intense pain as it was despoiled that they left the 'tvorld.Other, younger Vorquelves so felt the pain of abandonment that they resorted't drink and other vices to distract themselves or propel themselves into oblivio*** Fresfla*ranci a distance from their vices of choice seemed to have benefited'some> kutascre of them would be useless when it came to making the overlaidtrek"

Of the rest, about a dozen were pure civilians who either were healers, or disaffected members of Amends' appeas.e.m.e.nt clique. Resolute fully expected they would v^hine. Or, worSeye^try to exert control over the expedition.

Theremaining crewhad potential, but not much of it. While the Grey Misterswerea frmiclable street gang, that didn't make them warriors. All of them frada daggerOrtwo, but few had swords, and there wasn't a bow among them. A fewna^ gotten enchanted with tattoos such as he had, but he saw nothing that would help them[ncombat. Even their uniform of leathers would be of little use- Hehad to hope that they ran into very little resistance-or that he and the otherscoU^d just Outdistance the Grey Misters if forced to run from trouble, -phe political refugeeSjrather predictably, sought audiences with Oracle.

Resolute wasn't sure ifs hesaw things concerning them, but every one of them approached him lateran d pledged fealty. He harbored no illusions about their obediencemmemture, but at least the problem was deferred for a bit.

The journey upriverwent swiftly enough, with the eight hours of light allowing themt0covertwo dozen miles a day. They found simple anchorage along the riverand camped away from settlements. Resolute would have liked to stop at Sanurva^> ^ut^eYreached it in the middle of the day, so they took the westernforkof the riveran( j bypa.s.sed it. He didn't mind having spies report to Chytriethat an elven ship was moving up the river, but he didn't want her to bealerte a as to who wason }t.

After five days they reached the headwaters of the Varasena: a small lake in the foothills of the r9ngethat separated Loquellyn and Saporicia. They made their lastcarrlPtnere^nd left the worst of the crew and a couple of the politicos behind to ship back downto Otedo. Resolute wrote out a message to be delivered to King Fidelius jnNarriz, but he a.s.sumed it would never get to him. It really didn't matter, sincejtcontained all sorts of incorrect information about where his group was ^ncjwne re they were heading.

The following morningt he Grey Misters bid their compatriots a fond farewell, then shouldered the packsthey'd all been issued from the ship's stores. People joked about what th^y should call their group.

Half of them were in favor of Resolute's Legion.

The other popular name was the Forlorn Legion Resolute preferred that name, but rejected itVtL forth.

Predator's numbering of the crew was not off by much, but calling them a legion was a sore misapplication of that word. At least a quarter of them he'd press-ganged from the wastrels. Vorquelves who had been bound to the island found themselves in such intense pain as it was despoiled that they left the world. Other, younger Vorquelves so felt the pain of abandonment that they resorted to drink and other vices to distract themselves or propel themselves into oblivion. Fresh air and a distance from their vices of choice seemed to have benefited some, but a score of them would be useless when it came to making the overland trek.

Of the rest, about a dozen were pure civilians who either were healers, or disaffected members of Amends' appeas.e.m.e.nt clique. Resolute fully expected they would whine. Or, worse yet, try to exert control over the expedition.

The remaining crew had potential, but not much of it. While the Grey Misters were a formidable street gang, that didn't make them warriors. All of them had a dagger or two, but few had swords, and there wasn't a bow among them. A few had gotten enchanted with tattoos such as he had, but he saw nothing that would help them in combat. Even their uniform of leathers would be of little use. He had to hope that they ran into very little resistance-or that he and the others could just outdistance the Grey Misters if forced to run from trouble.

The political refugees, rather predictably, sought audiences with Oracle. Resolute wasn't sure if she saw things concerning them, but every one of them approached him later and pledged fealty. He harbored no illusions about their obedience in the future, but at least the problem was deferred for a bit.

The journey upriver went swiftly enough, with the eight hours of light allowing them to cover two dozen miles a day. They found simple anchorage along the river and camped away from settlements. Resolute would have liked to stop at Sanurval, but they reached it in the middle of the day, so they took the western fork of the river and bypa.s.sed it. He didn't mind having spies report to Chytrine that an elven ship was moving up the river, but he didn't want her to be alerted as to who was on it.

After five days they reached the headwaters of the Varasena: a small lake in the foothills of the range that separated Loquellyn and Saporicia. They made their last camp there and left the worst of the crew and a couple of the politicos behind to ship back down to Otedo. Resolute wrote out a message to be delivered to King Fidelius in Narriz, but he a.s.sumed it would never get to him. It really didn't matter, since it contained all sorts of incorrect information about where his group was and where they were heading.

The following morning the Grey Misters bid their compatriots a fond farewell, then shouldered the packs they'd all been issued from the ship's stores. People joked about what they should call their group. Half of them were in favor of Resolute's Legion.

The other popular name was the Forlorn Legion.

Resolute preferred that name, but rejected it. He looked at the haphazardly organized gang of brigands, cutthroats, politicos, and innocents and shook his head. "What we are is theFirstLegion. The first to fight Chytrine, the first to return home. Let us go forth and do all we can, so we will also not be theLast Legion."

[T he westernmost town in Noriva went by the name of Nowhere. As Duranlaun reported, it had a palisade and a number of buildings, but not much else. 1 Muddy streets were flanked with longhouses to shelter the foresters, while smaller buildings functioned as taverns, dining halls, and wh.o.r.ehouses. A flag flew from the highest rooftop, but Marcus Adrogans could not recognize the blue-and-white banner as belonging to any nation or unit.

If the entire population of the place amounted to more than a thousand, Adrogans would have been surprised. For his army to sweep over the town and destroy it would have been simple. One volley from the dragonels would have shattered the wooden walls and left the place defenseless. What pa.s.sed for a militia there was a half legion of men who seemed more intent on stealing money from drunks than providing any sort of security. But they wore livery matching the flag, which hinted that they belonged to a greater authority. And the fact that they were men and not gibberers did give him heart.

Adrogans watched the village from within the trees on a nearby hilltop. His army had approached and camped close by, but managed to remain undiscovered-mainly because Nowhere's guards did not venture beyond the palisade.

Adrogans had seriously considered using the dragonels to obliterate Nowhere, as such an attack would give his fireteams practice with sighting and reloading quickly. It would also let his other troops get an idea of just how powerful the dragonels were. While all of them knew Fortress Draconis had been laid low by the weapons, even those who had once visited the northern stronghold had trouble conceiving of how much power it would take to accomplish that end.

But while that plan of attack would have doubtless been successful, it posed several problems. First and foremost, he didn't want to squander his supply of firedirt. Second, if anyone did escape, then Chytrine's forces would have warning that he was coming-with the dragonels. He also could not imagine the Aurolani Empress' having failed to dream up defenses against her weapon, and he didn't want his people running into such defenses, since the slaughter would no doubt be hideous.

Third, and most important, destroying the town would eliminate it as a source of intelligence and would further alarm people. Adrogans sought for a way to win the people over and have them work for him. Of course, he also didn't want Chytrine to know they were working for him, so in consultation with General Caro and others, he came up with a working plan.

He looked down toward where Caro sat at the head of a ragtag mounted column and nodded. Caro raised a hand, then let it fall, and his Alcidese Horse Guards began their descent from the hills. Behind the three hundred of them came four hundred men and women on foot, all armed, comprising the Svoin and Okrans volunteers.

While the numbers were impressive, their appearance wasn't. Their uniforms had been removed and replaced with the motliest collection of garments that could be found. They looked every bit a group of refugees or, worse, soldiers turned to banditry. Caro would ride down with his troops, demand the town throw open its gates and proclaim him their leader. "After all," he would note, "if that b.a.s.t.a.r.d Adrogans can have an empire, I might as well, too."

By the time Caro's cavalry reached the town, the gates had been closed and the closest thing the town had to a mayor mounted the wall and spoke with him. While Adrogans could hear nothing of what was being said, he recognized gestures. After one particular one, a Warhawk swooped and exploded a firec.o.c.k over a small portion of the wall. That caused the mayor to see his situation in a new light.

The gates were thrown open, Caro was welcomed, the flag came down, and a new one went up. The town of Nowhere now owed fealty to King Caro the First. The celebration of his coronation went on well into the night.

During that night the bulk of Adrogans' army moved around Nowhere behind a line of hills to the south.

They pushed on for several hours and set up camp in a huge meadow the Rangers had located before. A stream of scouts kept Adrogans updated about the events in Nowhere on an hourly basis, but it wasn't until midmorning that Turpus Caro reached the camp and was able to explain everything to him.

Caro's normally red cheeks had yet more color-half from drink and the rest from cold, Adrogans suspected-and he was smiling broadly. "The initial resistance was halfhearted. Dalanous, the governor of the Nowhere District, was a minor courtier who was given the a.s.signment when Noriva's crown princess began to take a proprietary interest in where he slept and with whom."

Adrogans raised an eyebrow as he broke a small loaf of bread in two, then tore off a smaller piece and dipped it in broth to soften it. "Noriva has a government, then, and royalty?"

"A queen, not a king. As near as I can make out, Chytrine doesn't really care who is doing what in Noriva as long as grain is harvested, ore is dug, cattle tended, and anything else she needs is taken care of. There are various small political subsets in the countryside, but the queen is at Logbal. The women have reorganized the society around sisterhoods, since Chytrine seems content to harvest only males when a slaving run is made. Half the men sent to Nowhere ended up there to prevent their being taken."

"And the rest?"

Caro shrugged. "They're out harvesting trees. No one knows for certain what all the wood is for, since it travels east of Logbal into an area that the Aurolani patrol themselves, but everyone a.s.sumes it's for a fleet. All the shipwrights and sailors have been scooped up, so the conclusion seems inescapable."