Roger Taylor - The waking of Orthlund

Yatsu spoke. ‘My heart says he could, Lord, and that he will. But even if my heart is wrong, we can’t risk such another deed. We’re the protectors of the people amp;mdashtheir servants. We can set our own lives into the balance during battle, and those of the men who’ve chosen to follow us, but the whole reason for our existence is the protection of the helpless. Their lives must be kept above such calculations.’

Arinndier’s face darkened. ‘I need no lectures on my duty, Commander,’ he said.

‘Listen,’ Eldric said authoritatively, raising a hand to silence Arinndier and nodding to Yatsu to continue.

‘I’m speaking to clarify my own thoughts, Lord,’ the Goraidin said, directly to Arinndier. ‘I offer no one any reproach. But if we don’t stand where those villagers stood, we see nothing .’

Arinndier’s eyes narrowed.

Yatsu continued. ‘If the people are to be kept from risk, then we must move to protect them immediately,’ he said. ‘And the only way we can protect them against any such further attack is by a wholesale assault on the perpetrators. Morality, duty, and personal inclination aside, that’s a straightforward statement of our logistical position, and it’s beyond debate.’

Arinndier glanced down at the various documents that had been hastily prepared for the meeting. Even a casual study showed the impossibility of using extended patrols to defend the myriad villages that adjoined the eastern estates.

‘It seems that both circumstances and our duty pinion us, Commander,’ he said slowly. ‘I was wrong to think of delaying.’ He looked straight at Yatsu. ‘It occurred to me that to rush headlong into battle, ill-equipped against an enemy of unknown power, would be to risk defeat and thereby jeopardize the people further, but your reminder was timely; I had indeed neglected to stand where the villagers stood.’ He shook his head. ‘My fear clouded my vision. Fear of ordinary combat is bad enough, but fear of this… Uhriel and his terrible power… is another. Yet we have some measure of it and we’ve bent our minds to the problem and trained our men, as best we can. It may prove insuffi-cient, but sadly, I fear that only accepting combat amp;mdashaccepting the risks which are ours to accept amp;mdashwill really teach us further.’

Heads around the table nodded in agreement and Yatsu bowed. He turned to Eldric. ‘May I say something further, Lord?’ he said.

‘Yes, Commander,’ Eldric replied.

The Goraidin looked around at the familiar faces of his friends, old and new. He pushed his chair back and stood up. ‘I think we have another, perhaps even deeper reason, for bringing this matter to the field now,’ he said quietly. ‘Judged by any law, this was an appalling crime. It didn’t even have that flimsiest of justifications amp;mdashan evil deed done for the greater good. Whoever did it, every individual involved, must be sought out and held to account, no matter where they hide, no matter how long it takes. And that search must start now.’

Though his voice remained quiet and even, his pas-sion suddenly burst through. ‘It does not matter what the cost is. To do less is to betray the people of Ledvrin and who knows how many countless others. It would say to the demented souls who would yield thus to the darker forces in their nature, that the consequences of such conduct could in some way be evaded.’ He leaned forward, his eyes scouring his listeners. ‘They must be shown otherwise. They must learn that ordinary people pursuing their ordinary lives are never without defenders. They must understand that if they choose to follow such a path, then, from the very instant of the deed, they will be pursued without mercy, and pursued for ever.’

There was a long silence.

Eldric sat motionless, his head bowed. ‘You speak my mind, Commander,’ he said eventually.

‘He speaks my heart,’ said Hreldar coldly.

‘He speaks the heart and mind of the Law,’ Darek said, obviously deeply moved by the Goraidin’s uncharacteristic outburst.

Eldric looked round at the meeting. ‘Does anyone find fault with the Commander’s reasoning?’ he asked.

No one spoke.

He leaned back in his chair. ‘We’ve known for some time that this would be the inevitable outcome of Dan-Tor’s scheming, and we’ve prepared ourselves accord-ingly amp;mdashor at least as well as we can.’ He paused briefly. ‘Most of us here have seen combat. We know that while we can speak and face our fears, they’ll not seriously impair either our will or our judgement. Like the Lord Arinndier, I freely admit my fear of this creature and his power. In fact I admit my fear of all the dreadful ways of battle amp;mdashbe they old or new amp;mdashand the reproach of the people we’re even now sentencing to death. I’m afraid too of the greater and worse battles that may yet lie ahead of us even if we succeed in ousting Dan-Tor.’ He looked around the table again. ‘I’d give much to have this burden taken from me,’ he added slowly. ‘However, I know that if we do not fight now, others will have to fight far worse battles later and I fear their judgement most of all, even though I may be long dead when they come to make it. Our Commander has shown us both the logic and the passion of our cruel situation. I believe our decision now is not whether we attack Vakloss, but how soon.’

Urssain was almost jubilant. ‘It worked, Ffyrst,’ he exclaimed. ‘Exactly as you said it would. But even more quickly.’

Dan-Tor turned from the window and examined the unexpectedly enthusiastic Mathidrin.

‘They come to break themselves against the spears and shields of our troops,’ Urssain continued. ‘If they keep up their present pace they’ll be exhausted when they arrive. Within the week they’ll be finished and there’ll be none to oppose you. All the other Lords will fight to kneel at your feet when they see what happens to your enemies.’

Dan-Tor nodded slowly. ‘Indeed, Urssain. Com-mander Aelang is to be commended on the effectiveness with which he provoked the Lords,’ he said.

The news was heartening. Soon the residue of this tiresome resistance would be crushed. Yet, when he first heard it, something had stirred somewhere deep within him; a faint tremor of unease. You move too quickly, Lords, it said; even to avenge such a deed. I would have expected you to dither, dawdle and debate a little more before you ventured forth; instead you charge out like so many enraged bulls.

Now, responding to his Commander’s confidence, the unease returned to Dan-Tor. To still it, he calculated back from the moment when an exhausted messenger had slithered from his foaming horse with the news of the unexpected appearance of a large army moving rapidly towards Vakloss. The Lords must have started late in the day and marched through the night to cover such a distance. Accepting this, Urssain’s estimate of their pace was reasonable and, if they maintained it, the Lords would indeed arrive in well under a week. And yet, at such a pace they must surely be exhausted when they arrived? The Lords’ actions seemed to bear the hallmarks of an uncharacteristic impetuosity.

Dan-Tor tried to set this inconsistency aside, but from it a single thought rose to dominate his mind.

Who fires your resolve, Lords?

The name Hawklan floated inexorably in its wake. Had that green-eyed abomination indeed survived and rejoined the Lords? Was he once more hunting him? Using the Lords now as once he had used the people of Vakloss? Would he be there, at the head of their ranks, spurring on the High Guards, or would he be skulking in the rear, plotting some more devious assault?

Dan-Tor found himself quailing at the thought of Ethriss’s sword flashing and singing again in the forefront of battle, cutting swathes through his warriors. It was only with a great effort that he set the vision aside. That image, though it returned vividly, even after the countless millennia of darkness, did not portray the true danger of Hawklan. No single man, however ferocious, could swell the ranks of the Lords’ army to the size of the army that would greet and crush them. And there was always a random arrow or a whirling axe to end their riot. The true danger lay in just such assaults on Hawklan’s person. If the terrible clamour of battle did not awaken the dormant Ethriss, the impend-ing death of his mortal frame surely would.