Jack Whyte - The Sorcer part 2 - Metamorphosis

Everything here is as it should be, though I do not enjoy working with the Council—too much discussion, too little decision. The garrison matters proceed smoothly, nonetheless, and that I do enjoy. I see your Lady Tressa frequently, usually with your brother's wife Ludmilla. It is clear they have become good friends, so disabuse yourself of any thought that she is languishing without you. In truth, she seems so much at home here now in Camulod, no one would ever think she is but a new arrival. I know that, too, will please you. I would have asked her if she had words for me to send to you with this, had that been possible, but Sulla is anxious to be on his way and is fretting as he waits even for this from me.

Get rid of Ironhair and Carthac quickly, but do it thoroughly.

Decapitation is thorough.

Dedalus

Decapitation! I grinned to myself, shaking my head as I released Ded's letter and allowed it to roll up on itself.

The news was good concerning the outlying settlements, and I was grateful, and a little surprised, that he had thought to send it. His reservations on the quality of the garrisons we were building in those new settlements were no surprise to me, though. Ded was a professional soldier, and he simply could not believe that any other kind of man could be successful in soldiery. The best tidings, however, were those concerning Tress and Ludmilla. The mere mention of Tressa's name had filled me with warmth and homesickness, and now I allowed myself to think of her for long moments, recalling the smell and the taste of her, the laughter in her eyes and the sound of her voice, admitting to myself that I missed her sorely. Then, aware that I was being self indulgent, I replaced Ded's letter in its cylinder and took up Ambrose's lengthy dispatch again.

I had barely finished reading it for the second time when I heard Donuil's voice speaking my name. He pulled back the flap of my tent and entered, followed closely by Derek. Donuil had a strange look on his face, and I was suddenly aware of a hubbub of raised voices outside. "What's wrong?"

Donuil shook his head in a tiny gesture of perplexity. "I'm not sure. Connor sailed east—d'you expect him to come back that way?"

"Aye, or directly from the south. What are you talking about?"

"Well, either he's coming back from the west, or there's another big bireme coming to visit us."

"Coming from the west? Show me."

I forced myself to move slowly and deliberately, rolling my brother's letter up carefully and slipping it back into its wallet. That done, I moved to the entrance, holding the flap open for Donuil to pass in front of me. There was no need to go any further; the great, dark, solitary shape approaching rapidly in the offshore waters was unmistakable.

"Well, that's not Connor," I said softly, after my first glance. "So whoever it might be, he's from Ironhair, and he's not passing by. I doubt he'd be foolhardy enough to attempt an attack of any kind from there, and he has no other vessels with him, so we must presume we have a visitor wishing to speak with us."

Donuil stood close by, watching me as I spoke, and I was conscious that his were not the only eyes on me.

"Let's show them some discipline, Donuil. Assemble our people on the beach in full battle order. I'd estimate we may have half an hour before they reach us—that is, if they don't sheer off and resume their journey. Pass word to the senior commanders to change to full parade armour immediately, if you please, and send my orderly here at once, to help me with my own preparations. We have no time to waste."

EIGHT

Donuil returned to my tent just as I was removing my heavy war cape, having decided that it was too hot and that I had put it on too soon. He, too, had changed into parade gear and carried his ornately crested helmet in the crook of his left arm, and I looked him up and down approvingly.

"They're here, Merlyn," he announced quietly. "Lying in deep water, no more than fifty or sixty paces from the beach. But they've made no move to hail us. How do you want to proceed?"

"Have they given any sign of their intent?"

"No, but it's not hostile. They drifted into place, barely moving through the water, and there's no sign of bared weapons anywhere that I could see."

"They haven't lowered a boat?'

"No, nothing. They've done nothing. There's a group of what must be officers—"

"Armies have officers, Donuil, and a formal structure. These men may be leaders, but they are not officers."

"Aye, well, there's a group of them at the bow of the ship, just staring down at us."

"And are we staring back?"

He blinked at me. "I suppose so. We're facing them. There's nothing else to look at. "

"You're wrong there, Donuil. There are a hundred other things out there, all of them better to look at than these people. "

I opened the flap of my tent and looked outside to where several of my own officers stood waiting. "Gentlemen, will you come here?" When they were crowded into my tent, I looked at Donuil. "Donuil here tells me that the enemy are looking—staring—at us, and that we may be staring back. I want that stopped now. You will move among our units, please, and instruct all of them to ignore these people. They are to stand at attention with their eyes on the horizon straight ahead. They may look at the sea, the waves, the clouds in the sky, or at the back of the head of the man in front of them. But they are not to look at the enemy ship, or at any of its crew, is that clear?" I looked at each man individually and they all nodded.

"Good. Thank you all. In a moment I shall require you. to go and spread that word among our people, beginning with those units closest to the enemy ship. Before you do, however, I want to tell you how we will behave, and continue to behave, in this encounter. These people appear to believe they are on an embassy of some kind, bringing word to me from Ironhair, one equal to another. That implication of equality is offensive, completely unacceptable, and I want that clearly understood. I will not truck with Ironhair, or with any of his minions, on anything that seems to approach equal terms. I have no wish to give anyone the slightest false impression that I might be even slightly concerned to hear whatever it is they may have to say. " Again I looked from face to face and each man nodded gravely in return. "Good.

Donuil, here, will therefore be the only one to deal with them or speak to them. I'll ask you one more time: do you all understand what I am saying?" They all nodded, with a chorus of "Aye, Commander," and I dismissed them to spread the word. When they had gone, I turned to Donuil.

"These people will undoubtedly have the effrontery to expect me to go to meet them. I will not. Ironhair is not on that ship. He wouldn't endanger himself so foolishly. Whoever leads this expedition, therefore, is a deputy, and he will deal with you, my deputy. They may be mute for now, but sooner or lata' they will have to speak, or shout, then come to us. No one from our army will go to them, under any circumstances. If they wish to speak to us, they must come ashore, and when they do, they must speak to you and to you alone. When you have listened, if you think I should hear what they have to say, you will bring diem to me, and then they may wait until I have time for them. You will bring no more than three or four of them, fewer if possible, and you will bring them under guard—an armed escort. There will be nothing to suggest that it might be honorary— no ceremony, ho deference, no courtesy other than the barest necessary to avoid violence. They are to be treated as invading brigands under a temporary and unwelcome truce. Brigands, Donuil, not warriors, not men of honour."

Donuil was gazing at me steadily, absorbing every word, and now he nodded. "I will make sure there is no doubt of the regard in which we hold them."