Adrian Tchaikovsky - Heirs of the Blade

Elass watched the Lowlander take her place. Telse Orian gave the new arrival a companionable nod, and young Chevre Velienn was scowling at her as an upstart, but Tynisa ignored them both. Partly that was because the girl’s attention was directed instead at Elass’s son, who was, after all, the hook that the princess had caught her on. There was more, though, for there was a casual arrogance about the girl suggesting that opinions of the assembled nobility were now beneath her notice.

In truth, it is a shame that she is a Lowlander. Were she of our kinden, and of halfway decent blood, then perhaps she might make a good match for Alain after all. He could profit from being taught that kind of self-assurance.

Almost directly across from Elass sat Lowre Cean, with some of his own people about him. Tynisa’s chosen seat placed her on the periphery of his influence, which was fitting enough, for she was the thread by which Elass had hauled the old man in, after all.

She surveyed the mustered war leaders and let her wings shimmer a moment about her shoulders, her signal that she was about to speak. ‘You all know why I have gathered you here,’ she addressed them. ‘Elas Mar has suffered grievous incursions from the lordless lands to our south. For a long time that wilderness has been a breeding ground for bandits and killers, and yet nothing has been done. For reasons I cannot guess at, our Prince-Major has not deigned to purge those lands of their lawless inhabitants. So now my villages are burned, my people killed, and I cannot sit idle. We have a force here that is superior to the brigands in discipline, and whose cause is just. We will drive them from Elas Mar, and then we will scour their own territory of them, so they shall find no rest and no home. I shall take back these lawless lands on behalf of the Monarch.’

‘And the Monarch will recognize your efforts, Princess?’ Lowre Cean asked sardonically. ‘And what has Felipe Shah to say about this?’

‘I have sent to him for aid,’ Elass returned, quite calmly. ‘Our prince has written to me: he declines to come. He will not support us, for all our cause is plainly a righteous one.’

‘And does he give any reason?’

Elass considered the terse missive she had received back from her liege, the Prince-Major. ‘None,’ she said, which was both true and false. Suffice to say that half of Felipe Shah’s reasons had been incomprehensible, the other half anathema.

There was a pause, into which Lowre was clearly being invited to add something more, but he held his peace.

Elass nodded. ‘Our southern border is heavily wooded, and the brigands take advantage of this to more easily cross into and out of our lands. Already four villages have suffered their depredations. That is where we must meet them: we must scout them even as they venture forth to raid. We must follow them back to their dens. We must drive them from the trees and ever southwards. We must capture their leaders, kill any that follow them. We will deliver the Monarch’s justice that these wretches believe is sleeping.’ Again she glanced at Lowre Cean. ‘Does our strategist have any wise counsel? Your victories against the Wasps are well remembered.’

‘I am not your strategist,’ Lowre said tiredly. ‘Make your own plans.’

Elass’s mouth tightened into a thin line. ‘My son will fly for the border, taking with him a band of our best, to deliver a message to these criminals that they will clearly understand. He will make a severe example of whoever he can catch. By the time our main force has joined him, the bandits shall no doubt have lost their stomach for the fight. And I believe, Prince Cean, there is one amongst your household who wishes to accompany Alain.’

Lowre Cean’s face was stony, but he said nothing.

‘Maker Tynise,’ Elass named the girl, ‘you see here beside me my champion.’ A nod towards Isendter, who had knelt motionless throughout. ‘My son will lead the attack on these villains. Will you be his huntress, his champion, when he does so?’

She could see the Lowlander wanting to glance at Lowre for his reaction, but she had said ‘Yes,’ already, her response following eagerly and inevitably after Elass’s question. Lamplight glittered, caught on the badge that she wore.

Elass smiled pleasantly at her, saving the razored edge of her expression for the old man opposite her. Oh, I know, my Prince. Felipe Shah had apparently sent a personal request to his old friend Cean, to look after this girl. Elass had no idea why the Lowlander was so important, whether she might be some great dignitary whose death would tarnish Shah’s honour, or whether this represented just one more inexplicable fragment of sentiment from the prince. But it is enough that I have taken her from them. Let them fret, and now let her live or die by her skills.

Staring across the room at Lowre Cean, Elass knew the old man could read all of these thoughts in her face. She revealed them there clearly, just for him. I will turn you to my purpose, my Prince, she reflected. When I asked you on to my lands I sought a hero, not this senile wreck of a man I see before me. You shall either recover your earlier glories or I shall strip you of all you have. And as for Felipe Shah…

The girl, Tynisa, had first arrived at her door with news of her son, Salme Dien. As always, the foreigners did not understand how life was amongst a civilized people. She had no such son, nor had she for many years, since long before the Lowlanders’ own wars had claimed Dien’s life. Felipe Shah had taken her son from her, and reworked Dien into his own creature. She still remembered the day that he had quite publicly made the request of her. Oh, it was an honour, no doubt, and because it was an honour she could not refuse it, and so she had been deprived of yet another child, and only Alain left at her side, the least promising of the lot.

But I have found a way to strike back, at last, through this Lowlander girl. Perhaps, in the end, I will kill her myself – have Isendter challenge her and then cut her down. Or perhaps the brigands will spare me the trouble.

And, of course, after that rabble of thieves is dealt with, I have other plans. Then perhaps you shall find, Felipe Shah, just what happens to a prince who forgets what it means to have noble blood.

‘When were you going to tell us that this was the plan?’ Mordrec demanded, chasing after Dal Arche, as the bandit leader tried to walk away. Receiving no immediate response, the Wasp-kinden simply dogged Dal’s steps all the way out of the encampment, still demanding, ‘When, Dala? Or did you think we wouldn’t notice?’

Dal’s other two lieutenants, tall and close-mouthed Soul Je and the stocky Scorpion Barad Ygor, followed a few paces behind, content to let Mordrec draw their leader’s ire.

At last Dal rounded on them. ‘What do you want me to say?’ he asked.

‘I want you to tell me the truth about what this cursed plan is!’ Mordrec insisted. ‘Let’s go raid the Salmae, you said. They’ve got plenty of what we need, you said.’

‘And have I led you astray, in that?’

‘Dala, what you failed to mention is that you thought we needed people. You had us running about picking up thieves and malcontents to bring to you, when all the while you had this business ready to spring on us.’

‘Mord, this was never the plan,’ Dal protested.

The Wasp blinked. ‘Then what in the pits is it?’

Dal looked back at the encampment, seeing a messy aggregation of tents, lean-tos, fire pits and sleeping rolls. Spring’s turning out mild, which is just as well. Most of these people never thought about where they’d be sleeping, fools that they are.

‘Four villages,’ Ygor the Scorpion reminded him. He spoke in an absurdly cultured drawl that originated somewhere half the world away, in a place ruled by Spiders.