Sharon Shinn - Reader And Raelynx

Kirra laughed. “Another hour away, perhaps. Cammon told us you were near, so Donnal and I came to greet you.”

“And is our army deployed?”

Kirra nodded. “Acres and acres of soldiers. The Brassenthwaite troops found us yesterday, and Kiernan and Harris arrived straight from Danan Hall. Good news, though, you’ll only have to deal with one of your brothers, since Kiernan is about to send Harris back to Brassen Court to assist Nate. Romar’s got everyone very nicely organized-or so it seems to me, but you know battle strategy isn’t my strong suit-and you’ll like this a great deal. He’s ordered Cammon to stay with Amalie at all times in some little pavilion they’ve set up at the back of camp. But, of course, the regent wants to be on the front line, and he wants to communicate with Amalie-and he wants to communicate with Kiernan, and the captain of the Kianlever guard-and how do you think he proposes to do that?”

“Magic,” Senneth said.

“Magic, indeed! Romar has conscripted your old friend Jerril, who doesn’t seem to quite know what’s happened to him, and Jerril’s parceled out the Carrebos mystics who are particularly strong readers. None of them is as good as Cammon, of course, but he can hear all of them, and they can hear him , so he has been practicing relaying complicated messages all across the battlefield. We’ll see how well that holds in the stress of combat,” she added, “but it does seem like an advantage Halchon won’t have.”

“He has plenty of others,” Senneth said gloomily. “A few thousand Arberharst soldiers, for instance, who can ride right through my fires.”

“But they couldn’t see Ellynor, could they?”

Senneth brightened. “No.”

“Then you’ll like this news, too. This morning another couple hundred recruits showed up-from the Lirrens.”

Senneth felt both excitement and dread at that news. “Really! That’s wonderful-and terrible. If the Lirren men fall in a war that is not their own-”

“Donnal and I watched a few of them take an hour’s combat practice,” Kirra interrupted. “I can’t imagine any of them falling. Donnal said they’re not as good as Riders, but, Wild Mother watch me, they were pretty damn close.”

“I wonder if Ellynor’s brother is among them,” Senneth said. “I met him-I liked him-but what a brash young man he is.”

Kirra was grinning, and her blue eyes were alight with mischief. “Oh, her brother is here-two of her brothers-but what’s even more significant is that her cousin has also ridden to war.”

“Significant why?”

“Apparently Valri had something of a history with this young man before she crossed the Lireth Mountains and got herself named queen,” Kirra drawled.

“ Really ! A broken romance in Valri’s past! Well, it’s almost worth going to war to see how this will play out.”

Donnal tossed up his head till his mane flew, offering an equine laugh.

“Now all we have to do is hope Halchon dies in battle so that your brother Nate can marry Sabina Gisseltess, and everyone will be happy.”

“Oh, I forgot to mention it. Halchon and I managed a brief exchange of civilities just before Ellynor made us all vanish and we went racing off to find you,” Senneth said in a hard, bright voice.

“Did he renew his offer of marriage to you?”

“He did. Though when he thought about it, he decided it would put him closer to the throne to marry Amalie instead.”

Kirra choked and then pantomimed gagging over Donnal’s shoulder. “Someone really has to kill him,” she said when she had recovered.

“If he ever gets close enough to Tayse, I think it’ll happen,” Senneth said.

“And Coralinda? Was she there?”

“I saw her at the head of the troops, but I didn’t attempt any conversation,” Senneth said. “I sometimes wonder how that would work, you know. Halchon wants to marry me, but his sister wants to kill me. Do you suppose I would be murdered on my wedding day?”

“Well, many women equate marriage and death,” Kirra said blithely. “Why should you be different?”

That made Senneth laugh so hard that she almost gave up on conversation altogether.

Half an hour later, they came upon the royal armies of Gillengaria.

The sight was truly impressive, Senneth acknowledged, reining up to get a good look at the ranks of soldiers spread out over the rocky plains south of Brassenthwaite. Halchon might have assembled more men, but somehow these looked more beautiful to her-more earnest, more righteous, more passionate, more invincible. They were arranged by affiliation, grouped under their individual banners. The royal soldiers in their black-and-gold uniforms were deployed in the front. Behind them were the Brassenthwaite soldiers in dark blue, Merrenstow men with their black-and-white checkerboard sashes, Helven troops in their green and gold, Kianlever troops wearing sashes of plaited blue and green. Amid this welter of tents and banners, Senneth could not immediately pick out the royal pavilion, the cluster of Lirren warriors, the small blocks of mercenaries and individuals who always showed up for battles, offering their swords. She just saw the grand spectacle of an army preparing itself for war. It was the most awe-inspiring, the most heartbreaking display she had ever seen.

ANDthen war came.

Spies had ridden in every hour to update the regent on the position of the enemy forces, but for days before they actually arrived Cammon had felt the march of thousands of feet. There were too many-he could not sort most of them into individuals-but a few broke through and made distinct patterns in his mind. Coralinda Gisseltess was as clear to him as if she stalked through the royal camp, her long black-and-silver braid streaming down her back. Twice he thought he actually saw her, standing amid the ranks of Riders, glancing around, counting up men. When he looked more closely, she was gone.

He did not have nearly as clear a picture of Halchon Gisseltess, but the force of the marlord’s desire was so strong he projected an intense and smoldering hunger, and Cammon was always aware of him.

There were others-possibly Rayson Fortunalt, possibly some of the captains of the various armies, or maybe just particularly fervent soldiers who lived for battle. Except for tracking how close the army was coming, Cammon tried to shut them all out.

And then the soldiers arrived, and it was impossible to think, to feel, to know anything except violence and rage.

That first day was horrific. He and Amalie had promised Romar that they would stay far behind the line of combat, and so they loitered near the pavilion that had been set up to accommodate the princess. Amalie could not sit still. She paced through the sprays of new grass, she swung herself onto one of the horses that had been saddled for her-in case she needed to make a hasty escape-and tried to force her eyes to understand the ebb and flow on the battlefield.

“What’s happening now?” she asked him every three minutes, jumping back to the ground.

He told her what he could piece together, but there was an onslaught in his head. Nightmare images chased each other through his mind-bloody swords, crashing bodies, horses trampling inert forms, whole lines of men giving way to a berserker wedge of attackers. He could not always be sure who was the enemy, who was the friend. He could not tell who was falling, who was fighting back. Battle lust settled like a red mist over both gathered armies; it was impossible to distinguish between them.

His responses were incomplete and halting. “Your uncle has successfully beaten back an attack… Tayse is surrounded on all sides-no, Justin is there to aid him… A troop of Brassenthwaite men is giving way to an assault from-I’m not sure-it must be the soldiers from Arberharst…”