Roger Taylor - The waking of Orthlund

Dan-Tor’s concern deepened abruptly. The die was cast utterly now. At his instigation, the Lords had launched their army towards Vakloss. Nothing now could prevent a major battle. And if Hawklan were there, in its midst…

For a moment, he felt as he had felt at Eldric’s ac-counting: trapped. There he had been faced with the risk of having to use the Old Power to quell the crowd at the revelation of the use of Mandrocs in Orthlund, though, ironically, Eldric’s own commanding presence had actually saved him. Now, he could not prevent any lethal physical assault on Hawklan occurring if he were anywhere within the Lords’ army. Had he made yet another error? Pedhavin, Eldric’s accounting, and now this?

Dan-Tor turned back to the window and looked to the north.

Or had he been manipulated by some subtle hand into ensuring the waking of Ethriss?

The thought chilled even the black heart of his Uhriel’s soul.

And yet…

It couldn’t be. If Ethriss had such awareness, such dormant skill, he would surely have directed it to guiding the Cadwanol, his ancient servants. They could have wakened him. He would not have jeopardized the lives of thousands of men in battle…

The thought came like a sudden wind blowing away a stifling mist.

Nor would Ethriss have wantonly provoked the Old Power at Eldric’s accounting when so many innocents must inevitably have died.

How could he not have seen it? People had died for Ethriss in their hundreds of thousands, but Ethriss would not sacrifice a single unknowing soul for any end!

Hawklan could not be Ethriss!

Who he was and how he came to possess the key to Anderras Darion and Ethriss’s black sword and bow were enigmas, but their solutions could perhaps be untangled at some other time. What mattered now was that he was not Ethriss. He was a mortal man; gifted in some strange way, and indisputably dangerous, but a mere man!

Dan-Tor closed his eyes and felt the burden of Hawklan at last pass from him. If the creature was in this army he would probably be slain with it, leaving Anderras Darion tenantless, and the sword and bow in His possession. If not, he could be hunted freely, and bound, or slain later. It was no longer of any conse-quence.

A white smile greeted Urssain as Dan-Tor turned back to him.

‘What action have you taken, Commander?’ he said, knowing the answer. Urssain’s speed in galvanizing the defence of the City was to his credit.

Urssain feared his master’s smiles more than his frowns but this seemed to be devoid of menace. He responded enthusiastically. ‘I’ve sent out messengers to all the companies between here and the Lords, ordering them to pull back to Vakloss as soon as the Lords reach them,’ he replied.

Dan-Tor looked at his protege. ‘Withdraw?’ he said with wilful uncertainty.

Urssain nodded. ‘Yes, Ffyrst,’ he said. ‘The reports we have say that the Lords are coming in full force amp;mdashEldric’s High Guards, Arinndier’s, Hreldar’s and Darek’s, plus their civilian reserves, the remains of Evison’s High Guards and quite a lot of deserters from the other Lords… ’

Dan-Tor raised a hand to stem this flow. ‘Did you manage to ensure that some of your people were with the deserters?’ he asked, again knowing the answer from his own endeavours to obtain information from the east.

Urssain’s enthusiasm faltered. ‘No, Ffyrst,’ he re-plied. ‘We sent several in with plausible enough tales, but none returned. Nor have we received any messages from them. Not that that’s proved significant. The Lords never disguised their intentions or their activities, and now they’re actually flaunting their strength. We need no secret intelligence to find their measure.’

A fortunate quirk of circumstance, Dan-Tor replied inwardly, a conspicuous foe just when we’re blind. But after the Lords had been defeated he must travel to Derras Ustramel and tell Him of the growing hazards of such blindness, not least the Cadwanol. The birds must be freed if His work is not to be so hampered again; but let Him determine that.

With a flick of his hand, he returned Urssain to the mainstream of his telling. ‘Why are you withdrawing your forces, Commander?’ he asked pointedly. ‘Why aren’t you opposing them at every step.’

Briefly, fear welled up inside Urssain’s stomach but, riding high, he ignored it and plunged on.

‘They’ve committed their every resource, Ffyrst,’ he said. ‘To oppose them with individual companies would be to lose men, materials and morale for no useful purpose.’

‘You doubt the courage of your men, Commander?’ Dan-Tor asked.

‘No, Ffyrst,’ Urssain replied, surprised at his own spontaneous faith in the Mathidrin troopers. ‘They’re afraid of nothing. Remember the Mandroc tribes they subdued when we first moved out of your estates and into Narsindal? I doubt the High Guards are expecting such ferocity. But courage is no match for overwhelming odds. If our men stand and fight in small companies they’ll be destroyed, and probably without inflicting any serious harm on the enemy. But if they withdraw, they’ll be here fresh and ready for action alongside all the other companies, and… ’ He smiled knowingly. ‘… they’ll tempt the Lords into maintaining their present pace in anticipation of an equally easy final victory.’

Dan-Tor stood silent for some time. Involuntarily Urssain licked his lips.

‘Good,’ said his tormentor eventually. Urssain breathed out, discreetly.

‘I’ve also recalled some of the companies in the south and west,’ Urssain added. ‘Those from the estates of our friendlier Lords, though I doubt they’ll arrive in time.’

Dan-Tor nodded. ‘And in the City?’ he asked.

‘The City’s sealed, and under curfew,’ Urssain re-plied briskly. ‘All food supplies have been commandeered, the Militia and all the auxiliaries have been fully mobilized, and the main Mathidrin compa-nies are moving to their defensive stations on the eastern approaches.’

‘Good,’ Dan-Tor said again. ‘And how are the people responding?’

Urssain shrugged. ‘It’s hard to say. We imposed a full curfew immediately we had definite news, so there’s been little chance for any rumours to start. I think a simple public announcement will end what little speculation there is. The Youth Corps can make it, they’re already patrolling the streets to ensure the curfew’s being maintained. I don’t think the people are going to be any problem.’

Dan-Tor stood silent for a moment, then he said, ‘Have two of the reserve Mathidrin companies stationed in the Palace, Commander. We may have no spies in the enemy’s camp, but they’ll have many in ours for sure, and they’ve shown in the past they’re quite capable of reaching into our very midst.’

Urssain hesitated.

‘Just because they’ve turned to face us at last, Com-mander, doesn’t mean they’re above treachery,’ Dan-Tor said coldly. ‘There are many new faces in the City amp;mdashin the Palace itself, since my… accession. We mustn’t become careless when such a major victory is within our grasp. Attend to it right away.’

When Urssain had left, Dan-Tor returned to the window and resumed his vigil. For some time he stood silently staring towards the hazy northern horizon. Then he turned away and moved through a nearby door.

A long winding stairway took him high up one of the palace towers until eventually he reached a narrow landing. Opening a door, he stepped out onto a broad observation balcony.

In the streets far below the weather was a cool, rather dank autumn. Around the high balcony, however, a wind blew always, and now it was cold and raw. But Dan-Tor was unaffected. Standing motionless, he stared out towards the east.