“We moved northwest, heading up into the mountains, then over them. Lucky for us it was late summer, or we’d all have frozen to death. Still, it was touch and go. Then we met with some other Dark Brothers with more prisoners. Most of the prisoners spoke an odd tongue, a lot like Yabonese, but a few others spoke the King’s Tongue, or languages from the eastern kingdoms.
“Twice more we joined with other bands of Brothers with human prisoners, all marching west. I lost track of the time, but we must have travelled for over two months by then. By the time we were ready to cross the plain - which I now know to be the plain of Isbandia, it was starting to snow. I know where we were headed now, though then I didn’t. Murmandamus was gathering slaves at Sar-Sargoth to pull his siege machines.
“Then one night our guards were hit by a company of horsemen from here. Of the two hundred or so slaves, only twenty survived, for the goblins and Dark Brothers took to killing us as soon as the horsemen struck the camp. Guy strangled one with his chains as it tried to run me through with a sword. I picked up the sword and killed another just after it clawed the Protector’s eye out. Armand was wounded but not quite enough to kill him. He’s a tough bastard. But we three and two others were the only survivors from the Swallow.
“From there we were brought here.”
Arutha said, “An incredible tale.” He sat back against the wall. “Still, these are incredible times.”
Martin said, “How is it an outlander came to rule here?”
Amos took another drink. “These are a strange folk, Martin. As honest and fine as you’ll find anywhere, in some ways, but they’re as alien as those Tsurani in other ways. They have no hereditary rank here, instead placing great store in ability. Within a few months it was clear Guy was a first-rate general, so they gave him a company to command. Armand and I served under him. Within a few more months it was clear he was by far the best commander they had. They’ve got nothing like the Congress of Lords here, Arutha. When something needs to be decided, they call everyone into a meeting in the great square, where the market’s held. They call the meeting the volksraad, and they all vote. Otherwise, all decisions are left to those elected by the volksraad. They summoned Guy and told him he was now Protector of Armengar. It’s like being named the King’s Marshal, but also something like being responsible for the safety of the city as well, a chief sheriff, constable, reeve, and bailiff all rolled up in one.”
Arutha said, “What did the previous Protector think of this?”
“She must have thought it was a good idea; she proposed it.”
“She?” said Jimmy.
Amos said, “That’s another thing around here takes a bit of getting used to. Women. They’re just like men. I mean when it comes to giving and taking orders, voting in the volksraad . . . other things. You’ll see.” Amos’s expression got distant. “Her name was Gwynnath. She was as fine a woman as I’ve met. I’m not ashamed to admit I was a little in love with her myself, though” - his tone turned a little lighter - “I’ll never settle down. But if I ever did, that’s the sort for me.” He looked down into his ale mug. “But she and Guy . . . I know some things about him, learned slowly over the last two years, Arutha. I can’t betray a trust. If he tells you himself, fine. But let’s say they were something like man and wife there at the end, deeply in love. She was the one to step aside and turn over her city to him. She would have died for him. And he for her. She rode beside him and fought like a lioness.” His voice softened. “She died yesterday.”
Arutha and Martin exchanged looks with the others. Baru and Roald remained silent. Laurie thought of Carline and shivered. Even the boys could sense something of the loss Amos felt. Arutha remembered what Amos had said to Armand just before they had met Guy. “And Guy blames himself.”
“Yes. One-eye’s much like any good captain: if it happened under his command, it’s his responsibility.” Amos sat back, his face a thoughtful mask. “The goblins and the Armengarians used to keep things pretty simple for a long time. Run out, break a few heads, then retreat. The Armengarians were a lot like the Tsurani, fierce warriors, but no real organization. But when Murmandamus showed up, the Brothers got downright organized, even to the company level. Now they can coordinate two, three thousand warriors under a single commander. The Brotherhood was punishing the Armengarians regularly when we showed up. Guy proved a blessing to the Armengarians, knowing modern warcraft. He’s trained them, and now they’re damn good cavalry and fair mounted infantry, though getting an Armengarian off his horse can be a chore. Still, Guy makes progress. They’re back to holding their own with the Brothers. But yesterday . . .” Nobody spoke for a long while.