Sara Douglass - The Serpent Bride

The five generals just stared at him.

“But —” Morfah began.

“You will be responsible for their organisation, Morfah,” said Isaiah, “together with Ezekiel. Unless you both feel yourselves incapable.”

No one said anything, but again there were hurried glances among the generals.

“Or unless you wish me to bring someone else back from death to deal with it for you,” Isaiah said.

“Your order,” said Ezekiel in a smooth, calm voice, “is as always my command. Let us not disturb the dead any more than we need to. Morfah and I will see to it, Excellency. At what point after the invasion do you wish the peoples of En-Dor and the FarReach Dependencies to begin the long trek north into —”

“They shall move with the invasion,” Isaiah said. “Thus they shall need to be informed now that new lands await them and they need to begin making preparations for their journey north.”

“ With the invasion?” Lamiah said, adding almost as an afterthought, “Excellency?”

“The Outlands and Central Kingdoms are very far away from the main bulk of the Tyranny,” said Isaiah. “They need to be settled as rapidly as possible. The peoples of the En-Dor and FarReach Dependencies shall follow directly behind the main military convoy.”

“They are not going to be happy to be ordered from their homelands,” Morfah muttered.

“Then your silver tongue shall be needed to persuade them,” Isaiah said. “And persuade them you will , Morfah … Ezekiel.”

They both gave small, stiff bows of acquiescence.

“Together with the army and the settlers,” Axis said once the five generals had left, “how many people will there be in the convoy, Isaiah?”

“A million, maybe a little more.”

Axis could say nothing for a moment. A million people? “The logistics …” he said.

“Are a nightmare,” said Isaiah. “No wonder I needed you back from death to advise and aid me, eh? I cannot be everywhere at once.”

Axis just shook his head. A million people. He couldn’t escape the feeling that Isaiah was heading directly for his second military fiasco.

Stars alone knew what the generals were thinking.

They had been on the road for weeks, and Maximilian was enjoying the freedom. He appreciated the chance to catch up with old friends. He knew all the kings of the Central Kingdoms, some better than others. Malat, who ruled over Kyros, was a good friend, and his son, Borchard, an even better one. Maximilian had enjoyed his four-day stay in Kyros immensely, although the good-natured pre-nuptial ribbing of Borchard was something he was thankful to escape.

He worried a little about leaving Escator, but that worry was mainly engendered by guilt at enjoying his freedom so greatly. The Privy Council were capable enough of managing the kingdom’s daily affairs, and all would manage nicely without him.

Some of Maximilian’s enjoyment began to pall as they drew closer to Pelemere. Ishbel was near, an equal distance to the east of Pelemere, according to the report of a passing Icarii, as he was to the west and now all of Maximilian’s attention was focused on their meeting.

What would she truly be like, this serpent bride? What was her purpose: to become his wife and bear his children, or to deliver a darker message into his life?

Together with his increasing anxiety about Ishbel, Maximilian was also growing a little irritable with the constant company. Garth and Egalion were his close friends, and he knew the men of the Emerald Guard intimately. While he enjoyed their company, Maximilian was so solitary by nature, a trait exacerbated by his seventeen-year imprisonment, that he found the constant company trying. He found himself dreaming about pushing his horse into a gallop across a vast plain, seeing nothing but the gently rolling grasslands ahead of him, enjoying no company save that of his horse, having to respond to nothing more than the sun on his face and the wind in his hair.

And soon he would have a wife.

Six days out of Pelemere, Maximilian’s rising anxiety and irritation combined to push him to a sudden decision.

“Egalion,” he said, as they dismounted for the evening, “I am going to take a few stores, and a bedding roll, and ride off by myself for a few days.”

“Maximilian —”

“I need to get away, Egalion. Just by myself. Just for a few days. You know how …”

Maximilian’s voice drifted away, and Egalion nodded. Yes, he knew “how”. Maximilian had spent seventeen years chained to a gang of men, and Egalion knew that sometimes it seemed to Maximilian as if those chains had never vanished.

“You need to keep safe,” Egalion said.

“I don’t need a guard.” Maximilian’s voice was sharp.

“I won’t send men to shadow you, Maximilian. But keep safe. ”

Maximilian tried a small smile, which didn’t quite manage to warm into life. “What part of the world can be more boring, more safe , than the western plains of Pelemere, my friend?”

Garth had wandered over and had heard enough of the conversation to know what was happening. “Maxel?”

“The hanging wall,” Maximilian said, referring to the ceiling of rock that had hung over him for so much of his life, “is bearing down on me, just a little too much. Let me go, Garth.”

Garth and Egalion exchanged a glance, then Garth nodded. “Keep safe, Maxel.”

“I will rejoin you a day outside of Pelemere.”

Maximilian stepped back, his eyes holding those of Egalion and Garth for just a moment, then he vanished into the gloom of dusk.

Maximilian pushed his horse for five hours into the night, angling a little north-east of the route Egalion, Garth and the Emerald Guard would take, until the animal was almost dropping from weariness. He halted in the shelter of a small grove, made his horse comfortable, then gathered enough dry wood for a fire.

Maximilian felt exhausted himself, but he knew he would not sleep.

There was something he wanted to do.

He just didn’t know what Ishbel represented. Contentment, or the ruination of peace? Maximilian wasn’t even sure that meeting her would solve the puzzle: Ishbel was likely to be an enigma not easily explained within the first five minutes of acquaintance.

Once the fire was blazing, Maximilian set out some food … then ignored it.

He would eat once he was finished.

Pushing the food to one side, he slid the Persimius ring from his left hand, then took the queen’s ring from his cloak pocket. Holding them loosely in his hand for a moment, Maximilian took a deep breath, then set them down, slightly apart from each other, before the fire. The Whispering Rings could do more than just set his day on edge with their irritating chat.