A Shore Too Far

Chapter 8

I awakened to the harsh hacking of a soldier in a nearby tent. I rolled from my bed and stretched.

“Blazes and damn,” Gwey said, laying beside me, his arm across his face, “that man has been coughing all night.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t notice.”

“No doubt years of sleeping with a camp of brutes has prepared you,” Gwey said. He shifted to face me as I donned an undershirt. “Why don’t you order your men to find us some pheasant eggs? I make a fine eggs Dovari.”

“I’m afraid my men are busy protecting Avandi, Gwey.”

“Luckily for the pheasants,” he quipped. “Though I’m beginning to question the men’s priorities…”

Beyond the outer room of the tent, a sword banged lightly on a shield twice.

“Ah, a love note from the troops,” said Gwey. “Maybe we’ll have those eggs after all.”

I pulled on my boots and left him to sort out his morning.

A guard stood at attention beyond my war table in the outer room.

“General, a messenger from the Kullobrini camp,” he said simply and stepped aside.

An ebony-skinned soldier stepped smartly into the tent and bowed.

“General, the princes Ujor request the immediate return of their queen and mother by all the customs of noble blood. If the queen is not permitted to return to the camp by noon tomorrow, then our cavalry will take reprisal on nearby villages.”

My own soldier tensed and his jaw tightened.

“Did you volunteer to bring this message, soldier?” I said through clenched teeth. “If so, you’ll soon see why no one else did.” I turned to my guard. “Seize him and all other messengers. And tell Gonnaban to meet me atop the hill.”

From the lookout, the sight was impressive, even for one who had seen similar things countless times. Three thousand or so Kullobrini cavalry stood at attention in the morning light, row upon row of armored soldiers and beasts, stock still and disciplined.

“Damn, ma’am,” said Gonnaban, still panting from struggling up the hill, “I know I was out of line last night, but I never thought—“

“It wasn’t you, though you still deserve a flogging for that affront.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

“No, the princes Ujor want their mother back,” I said. “Her revelation to us must not have been planned and her absence is now seen as tactical. We either produce her or they begin attacking villages.”

“Or they planned both her absence and their little show down there,” Gonnaban said.

I looked at him and laughed. “Why aren’t you leading these negotiations? You’re clearly sneakier than I am.”

“Now don’t go comparing me to the Kullobrini, miss,” Gonnaban protested. “Any sneakier and they’ll have convinced us we’re the intruders and we need to ship out.” He looked again at the force gathered beyond the hill. “What are your orders?”

“Well, they’re not going south past us,” I answered. “We’d butcher them before they reached the healers’ tents. They’ll go where we seem weak, east possibly, but definitely north.”

“Aye,” Gonnaban said. “Lucky we sent our boys to move the northern villages, though they won’t be there yet.”

“No, but we’re at least ahead of the Kullobrini. If they swing north, they’ll find more than one empty village for their trouble and they can’t go too far afield or they’ll leave the camp weakened.” I broke off a twig from a sprawl of brush. “Send the cavalry to the west and have them guard the road to Kimlott and gather me 2000 archers to set an ambush in whatever thick wood they can find on the road to Brims. The other routes east will have to fend for themselves. But first, I’ll press Esmir to speak to her sons. If she refuses, or even hesitates, we have our answer and we send the men.”

I tossed the small stick as far as I could off the lookout and it landed some feet from the base of the hill.

“You missed them,” Gonnaban joked.

I headed down the hill to our encampment.

“If they start attacking our people,” I said as he fell in behind me, “they will find my aim much improved.”

“Messengers from Abringol,” Gonnaban said, his hand coming over my shoulder to point at a rider wearing Eric’s oak and anchor.

Minutes later we met the rider at my tent, all evidence of my meal with Esmir having been cleared away.

“What news?” Gonnaban asked, as I finished reading the message.

“Eric and Father are in agreement,” I answered. “The Kullobrini must go, though both would prefer if I could avoid battle. Esmir’s title, her behavior, changes nothing.”

I lowered the note and looked out at my army, Eric’s army.

Gonnaban followed my gaze.

Older soldiers talked loudly in the crisp sea air and ate hearty breakfasts cooked over fires of peat and bramble. Younger men ate little and listened to long tales while still shaking off sleep and worry. Some demonstrated spear thrust or cunning swings of a sword to a companion while horses whickered in corrals.

“Begin building trebuchets, Gonnaban,” I ordered. “Four of them, with as much range and accuracy as you can give me, but only a medium load. If it comes to it, we’re going to take out the dock, perhaps toss fire into the tents. Be thinking on how to fortify them while still keeping them within range. With so little cover out there, the Kullobrini will long know what we’re up to.”

Gonnaban nodded and moved off, barking for one sergeant or another to gather the men.

I went in search of Esmir and found her en route to my own tent, my infantry commander in tow.

“Your sons have made a direct threat against my kingdom unless you assure them you are safe, Esmir. You must present yourself to them before noon tomorrow.”

“Those boys,” Esmir said fondly. “Noon, you say? Excellent.” She approached a cavalryman and reached for his reins. “That will give us plenty of time to visit Abringol.”

My infantry commander stopped in his tracks and looked to me.

“We are not going anywhere while your boys have 3000 cavalry arrayed on the field. If you mount that horse, it is to carry you to the camps and prove your safety to them,” I protested.

“Nonsense,” Esmir said, leading the horse to me. “My boys are perfectly punctual and those horses will not move until noon tomorrow. Abringol is less than a half-day’s ride at a brisk pace and I have heard remarkable things about that city.”

“Esmir, with all due respect—,” I began.

“Consider, too,” she interrupted, leaning in close, “how two leaders’ talks can be affected when surrounded only by the tools of war.”

“I did not cause this situation, Esmir,” I said, my anger building.

“No,” she said sadly, “I did. But it changes nothing. Do you want to fight my people? Do you want us to go to war?”

“No,” I said and hoped that it wasn’t a lie that Eric would have foretold.

“Then accompany me to Abringol. We need a change of scenery.”

Esmir leapt lightly onto the horse and leaned down to run a hand along the beast’s neck.

I looked at Esmir on her borrowed horse and she gazed back at me like a school chum hoping for an accomplice. I nodded to my commander to bring my horse.

“If this is a ruse, Esmir, some tactic to separate a leader from her men, it will fail.” The commander handed me my reins. “My men have fought so long, they have no need of me.”

“Perhaps,” Esmir said, smiling softly, “but then perhaps the work you do away from them will serve them better still.”

Close to noon, we broke through the last of the scrub wood that shielded Abringol from view.

Esmir slowed her horse and we sat a long moment.

“How does it compare to Innifor?” I asked after a long while.

“Smaller, no dramatic cliff sides, but your marble work is magnificent,” she answered. “Does it have fountains?”

“A few,” I said.

“Oh, I do miss fountains,” she returned, gleaming, and coaxed her horse into a trot.

I had sent riders ahead of us to announce our coming—and to good effect. Eric’s salutary riders emerged as we approached the city and began sounding their trumpets. Unexpectedly, the city followed with its horns, and the wood and sea resounded with royal welcome.

“Prince Eric Asgrand, governor of Mulgrond, Pennett, and Kee, welcomes Queen Esmir Ujor, rightful ruler of Kullobrin, and wishes you the warmest stay our hospitality can provide,” the lead rider proclaimed.

Esmir bowed slightly in acknowledgment and the riders took position around us as they led us into the city. Where Eric was amid all this pomp I was uncertain, but I felt some strategy at work.

Without delay or obstruction we were taken directly to the castle, but again I was surprised to find no Eric. In short order, Eric’s castellan greeted us and took us to the throne room.

My father had always said that a castle’s first role was to awe newcomers, but never had I seen it carried to such an extent. Eric’s court was packed with local nobles, all dressed in formal wear, and the Oak and the Anchor blazed from green banners that hung on every wall and filled the open spaces of the arched ceilings. Eric sat on his throne, rigid, imperious, stoic, and I could not help but wonder what happened in the valleys of the far north when two glaciers met.

Eric rose slowly from his seat as we walked the rich carpet that stretched to his dais. The seated nobles all rose, medals and jewels, crowns and swords, flashing in the midday sun. Eric met us at the foot of the dais and took my hand to kiss. He turned and bowed deeply to Esmir, who returned it with a gracious nod of the head. When their eyes met, I watched Eric as the forces within him gathered, balanced, steadied, and I thought not for the first time that he could be king; he would be king.

“Our circumstances seem to change with each meeting, Esmir,” Eric began.

If the lack of her title stung, Esmir did not show it.

“Indeed, Prince Asgrand, though I hope you are wise enough to see the need for our little deceptions,” Esmir returned.

“I have, in fact, concealed my own identity for purposes of the state,” Eric answered, “though it was a royal masquerade and I was eleven at the time. Your people must excel at such functions.”

With each of Eric’s goads, the tension in the room increased, like a hand pulling a bowstring, readying an arrow for some deadly flight.

“I’ll hope you’ll not think me immodest, but we excel at most everything—metallurgy, for instance,” Esmir said, smiling.

“Not to mention trench-building, though your labor customs seem to lag behind the times somewhat,” Eric returned. “The people of Avandi usually labor in the open.”

“We are an unusual people,” Esmir admitted, “but regardless of where we labor, we seem to produce wonders. We’re particularly proud of our ships.”

“Yes, your ships are most remarkable,” agreed Eric, then in a lower voice: “though your spies may need some improvement.”

Something tiny changed in Esmir’s countenance, some nuance that continued to slip by me, though Eric’s own air gained ground.

“We should discuss such things further,” Eric said. “I have arranged a small gathering this evening in your honor and have commissioned seamstresses for you both. The castellan will show you to quarters and I look forward to talking with you more.”

He bowed again to Esmir and remounted his throne. The arrow had been loosed and found its mark, though it took a marksman of Eric’s caliber to pierce Esmir.

Esmir was given quarters near mine and our corridor was covered in roses and lilies. Our seamstresses stood among the other attendants outside our doors and I left Esmir receiving bows and murmurs of respect.

When I entered my own quarters, Eric was already waiting for me, standing against a couch, his head bowed in thought. I had never known what secret passages might permeate his palace.

“Spies?” I said upon seeing him.

“At least four,” Eric said, rousing himself from his contemplations, “though we’ve caught just two. They volunteered the fact of the others.”

“Where were they caught?”

Eric took off his formal gloves and slapped them across his palm. “One was clearly watching the harbor; another was in a barn south of the city. We think he was watching the south road.”

“Troop movements, naval deployment…,” I said.

“It certainly looks like that’s what they were interested in,” Eric confirmed with a sigh.

“But with no more of their fleets on the horizon, we’re back to a group of refugees being extremely cautious,” I said, shrugging, “and nothing more.”

“A big enough concern…and affront,” Eric responded.

“Of course,” I said.

“Word of this will reach the Haru.” Eric shook his head. “If they aren’t already in league with Kullobrini, any weakness we show here may invite the Northmen into forming an alliance against us.”

“You mean, if we let the Kullobrini stay?” I asked.

Outside, the servants laughed uproariously at some jest. One slapped another on the back and cackled.

Eric looked in irritation at the door and then back to me. “Yes, if we let them stay.”

“You’ve considered it then, letting them stay?” I asked.

Eric shrugged and again slapped his gloves into his hand. “Yes, fleetingly. The north is largely empty and we certainly could learn from these people.…” Eric drifted off, his hands playing with a finger of a glove.

“I’m going to press Esmir,” I said. “Hard. We need to have this resolved before things get out of hand.”

Eric regarded me curiously. “Strange words coming from you, General.”

“I’m ready enough to fight, Eric. I’m just trying to remain open to any option that could benefit our kingdom,” I said defensively as I began unbuckling my armor.

“No doubt,” Eric replied, his eyes still moving about my face. “How do you find your new role?”

I paused at a strap of my armor. “I’ll never be as good as you, I fear,” I said, running my thumb along the strap.

“Well, don’t aspire to be me,” my brother counseled. “You must negotiate from who you are, what you know.”

I stopped removing my armor and closed my eyes.

“What I know is war, the cry of men, and the ring of shields,” I complained, “but apparently that’s not enough for our father—or you.”

Eric approached and took me by the shoulders.

I went again to work at a stubborn buckle. I could feel the heat of his hands through my shoulder plates.

He released me and strode toward the door. As his hand came to the knob, the servants outside fell into a sudden hush.

“Do you remember playing Rose-to-Rose with mother?” he asked.

“Vaguely,” I said, lowering my armor to the floor.

“You would always pull off your petals two or three at a time to beat us in the early rounds,” Eric said, wistfully.

“Yes. And?” I asked.

“Give it time, eh?” Eric said. “The worst that can happen is that we destroy the Kullobrini, queen and all. And you are more than capable of that.”

“True,” I said quietly as Eric shut the door behind him.

Esmir insisted that we walk the city while we talked and I could do little to convince her otherwise. Her ultimate destination seemed to be the docks, but I let her meandering take us where it may. Six of Eric’s city guards accompanied us, two in front and four behind.

Stopping at a fruit stand, Esmir looked in wonder at the various foreign fruits and asked the taste of each one. All the while, the merchant looked back and forth between us, a general and a regal stranger with the skin of night.

“This one?” Esmir would say.

“Tart, firm.”

“Oh, and this?”

“Much sweeter. They make an alcohol from it, I believe.”

“And this?”

We eventually purchased a half dozen varieties and Esmir munched contentedly.

“Isn’t this lovely, General?” she asked. “We’re embraced by culture and beauty and can think clearly now and speak clearer still.”

“We can build trust here, too, I take it?” I asked, as passers-by stopped to watch the foreign queen.

“Oh, yes, indeed,” she answered promptly.

“Then the spies caught in Abringol, they are meant to instill trust?” I challenged.

Esmir stopped in the middle of the road.

The smell of sausage came from a nearby tavern and a hawker cried the value of his shovels and hoes.

“You can trust, child, that I mean not to harm your people,” she began, “but I will risk everything to prevent mine from being harmed. I will know the placement of your armies so that I know when you and I have failed.”

“They will be hanged for their crime,” I said.

Esmir’s face hardened like a black rock cooling. “That is as it may be. But that is not for you and me to decide. The question for you and me is will you hang us all? Will you hang my people for my crimes?”

“Why should I not, Esmir? What should stop me?” I cried. “Will you give us your weapons as a token of good faith? Will you fill your trench and dismantle your earthworks?”

“I will not,” Esmir said. “You must trust us.”

“Then what you ask is more gifts from my father,” I said. “His land, the safety of his kingdom, and his trust.”

“If it could be another way, child, I would pursue that path,” Esmir insisted, “but in all our scouting, only this land could support all of us.”

As our conversation heated, people stepped from shops to watch the sparring, to watch their princess and the buoyant dark-skinned woman.

I gestured to Esmir that we should go and she glanced at the gathering citizens and again headed toward the sea.

We walked in silence for a while, wagons passing us on the avenue that led to the sea, the stocky ponies bobbing as they pulled their loads. One particular wagon carried anvils and ploughs, the planks bowing beneath the weight, but the goods were distributed evenly across the axle.

“Why must a land support all of you?” I asked suddenly. “As arid as the Sand Republics are, surely some of their territories can accommodate a few thousand here and there. The northern coasts, though mountainous, could do much the same. There would be plenty to the west out of reach of the Northmen.”

“Ten or fifteen communities of a few thousand each?” Esmir asked. “Spread over the whole of this new continent? Friendless and foreign? What security would we have?”

“You lost the right to security when you lost your throne,” I snapped.

Esmir concealed something in her face and touched my arm with a dark, soft hand. “I think I smell a glass kiln,” she said.

She turned away from me and moved down the street, her nose drawing her to a large shop a few doors down.

When I reached her, she was already holding vases to the light and cooing over color. She moved to a piece of stained glass depicting a rainbow falling upon a knight mounted on an armored steed. She moved the piece back and forth in the sunlight, the colored light playing across her ebony face.

“When my sons were young, they loved rainbows,” Esmir said softly. “They would run into the courtyards, never mind the rain, and point and shout, calling for me or their father. Even Abrunda.…” She placed the stained glass gingerly back on the shelf and ran her hand along another piece, two bridges arching to an island in a stream. “We will never be divided again, Kara. Never. We will live here or we will die here.”

“You will die here, Esmir. There is no choice,” I said. “You are outnumbered, whatever your other advantages.”

“Our fleet isn’t outnumbered,” Esmir answered, turning to examine another item on the shelf. “And any of our ships can destroy two of yours, not to mention our speed and size.”

“That’s true,” I admitted.

“And from what my sons tell me, our bows have twice the range of yours, Kara,” she continued.

“Again true,” I granted.

“Our metalwork seems superior to yours as well,” Esmir said, moving to another shelf of glasswork.

“Yet, you still won’t win, Esmir,” I stated quietly. “Your people will be ground underfoot and while my navy will be destroyed, the survivors on your ships won’t risk landing in our kingdom again.”

“You would destroy us for some slight to royal pride?” Esmir asked, lifting a stained-glass hawk to the light. “Why not let us live with you as friends?”

An old woman entered the shop and stopped upon seeing Esmir’s dark figure. Eventually, the woman nodded to Esmir and began moving from shelf to shelf slowly. The clerk quickly joined the old woman as she scrutinized a particular sample of window glass.

“You’ve a good eye, ma’am,” the clerk began. “Note the craftsmanship, the beauty. Consider the advantages of installing such glass in a door so you can identify visitors with a glance. Benefits well worth the cost, eh?”

The woman patted the clerk on the arm absentmindedly and toddled near the stained glass.

“If we were to let you stay,” I began, turning back toward Esmir, “would you help defend the northern borders against the Haru?” I asked. “Would you be willing to risk life and limb for Avandi?”

Esmir paused and then set the glass hawk down. “I’m sure something could be arranged, General. That sounds reasonable.”

“You suggested that your kingdom would be subsumed within ours,” I pressed. “Is that to say that you would contribute some of your ships to our navy?”

Esmir smiled. “I see where you’re going, Kara.” She moved to again examine the rainbow and knight. “So long as they were manned by my people, we could merge some portion of our navy with yours, yes.”

We left the shop and continued toward the docks. A rowdy band of Dolbiri sailors suddenly fell silent upon seeing Esmir and Eric’s soldiers. I nodded to a soldier and Eric’s men began dispersing the onlookers.

“And you must have numerous maps of parts of the world we’ve never seen,” I continued. “Would you permit them to be copied?”

“Yes, that much you certainly deserve,” Esmir said.

Ahead, the cart we had seen earlier carrying ploughs and anvils had spilled its contents into the road. The axle had snapped and the driver worked to move anvils beneath one side of the cart to prop it.

“Then you could ultimately teach us the art of your ships, how to fashion your bows, how to smith metals of your quality and strength,” I said, warming more and more to the prospects, finally relieved that I was no warmonger for its own sake.

Esmir stood a moment and watched the driver struggle to stack one anvil on another, building some structure to steady the cart.

“No,” she said at last. “I cannot permit such secrets to pass out of our hands.”

We began moving again toward the sea, the hushed whispers of the water and the townsfolk always with us. The cobbled streets sloped steadily toward the bay and the buildings, some wood and some the white stone of nearby quarries, leaned close together.

Esmir looked brightly from building to building, oblivious to the attention she attracted.

“You insist that we trust you, Esmir,” I challenged, “but when we ask you to trust us, we’re rejected? After all your forwardness and violations?”

“What threat do my people pose to you, General?” Esmir asked. “Such a small force as mine can be trusted, but we cannot give away all of our advantages. We are already outnumbered and I think that is disadvantage enough.”

A Dolbiri galleon was pulling into the harbor, its sails filled by a light breeze. Purple flags stirred with the air, the Dolbiri lion peaking from the folds. Men moved about on deck and waved to passing boats.

“The Dolbiri believe that the first of their kind was a great man named Atua,” I said. “He brought fire to his people, built the first cities, and conquered enemies. When he grew too old to lead, he left his people and set sail for new lands, lands marvelous enough to take into his kingdom. Shore after shore he would pass, thinking always that something more could be found. At last, they say, he landed on a remarkable shore worthy of discovery and set foot on the new land. But when he turned to go back to his ship, he discovered it gone. He had gone one shore too far and discovered the land of death and now it would be forever added to the lands of his kingdom. His final gift to his people.”

“We will not die here, Kara,” Esmir said. “I know it.”

“You cannot know it any more than Atua, Highness,” I replied. “You cannot know it any more than I. The further you go, the farther you push us; you may find that this shore was not the one you sought.”

“We are ready to face death,” Esmir claimed, her ebony features intense and insistent. “We have mastered steel and sea, horse and bow, and a thousand other arts, child. At our height, my armies numbered in the hundreds of thousands and few challenged us.”

We finally reached the docks of the harbor, largely emptied to fill Pulgatt’s fleet. A mother and her young son passed us carrying fish in a bucket.

Esmir turned to watch them. “I had asked you before about children of your own. You don’t have any, do you, General?”

“No. No, I don’t.”

“Well, before we sailed into exile, I tried to assassinate Abrunda, planned with murderers to spill my oldest son’s guts in some dark lane or empty hall.” Esmir spread her hands to feel the breeze, her eyes closed. “We are a terrible, terrible people, Kara. Do not make me prove it.”

Well over the horizon to the northwest, a dark smoke rose into the afternoon sun, the fumes turning and twisting until they finally faded.

“That’s too far west to be a village,” I reasoned. “It’s more likely from over the sea.”

“It’s the first of our ships, General,” Esmir said, lowering her hands, her eyes still closed. “Abandoned and blazing. I will burn one a day until we reach an agreement, but we are never leaving.”

Out in the harbor a boat rowed steadily toward the Dolbiri galleon. It carried one of the local pilots who would steer the foreign ship safely to shore. Only with a local could a ship hope to avoid the hidden dangers of the water, the invisible menaces that could mean ruin so far from home.

That evening, Esmir and I came down for Eric’s soirée. We each had new gowns, but Eric spared nothing for Esmir’s title. Esmir’s gown glowed with reds and blues with a long train carried by palace servants. Eric’s indulgence did not stop at cloth and so he lent Esmir jewels equal to her stature. Radiant and poised, she talked with a group of nobles who kept a discreet distance from her, fearing the rumors of demons and magical ships.

Eric brought me a drink and we stood watching Esmir, her large eyes twinkling with charm and delight.

“Your gown is lovely,” Eric said.

“To your credit,” I answered. I motioned to Esmir. “She seems to be enjoying the attention.”

Esmir’s laugh spilled from her as she concluded some story for her audience.

“Six weeks on a ship, near a week in a camp,” said Eric. “I would soak up some refinement as well.” He scanned the party, his eyes narrowing. “Will they leave, do you think, or shall we have to fight?”

“I believe her story,” I said.

Eric looked at me. “That was not my question.”

“I know,” I said, “but I think we might have reason for them to stay.”

A single eyebrow arched and Eric lowered his drink.

“Would it be worth accepting them into our kingdom if we could learn all their secrets, all their advances?” I asked.

“Why, General, you’re pleading your case…,” Eric began, uncharacteristically coy.

“Don’t toy with me, Eric,” I said sternly. “Should the cost of their stay be their secrets? Am I wrong in saying that we could become the power in all of Damendine if we had command of Kullobrini lore?”

Eric studied me a while longer and then turned again to his drink. “Is this possible? Have you broached the topic with Esmir?”

“Somewhat,” I said, “but you haven’t answered me.”

“It’s a fair trade, General,” Eric said, smiling into his drink. Then more abruptly: “What of their ranks if they are to be part of the kingdom? Will our princes suffer the ignominy of becoming mere counts?”

“I’ll need your advice on that,” I admitted. “But I won’t wait for them to make up their minds. I’ll continue to press Esmir, and when the East Guard joins us, their time will be up.”

Esmir caught my eye and waved warmly.

I raised my hand in return and smiled.

“You’ve done well, sister,” Eric said, keeping his eyes on Esmir. “A thousand battles and you could not have accomplished what you’ve done today.”

“It’s not done yet,” I said, as Esmir approached, a trail of nobles following, “and a battle may yet undo it all.”

In the early hours, the sun pushed its crown just above the hills to the east of Abringol and Esmir and I rode steadily from the darkened city. We had said little and she had needed no prompting to leave Abringol quickly. Whatever Esmir could keep hidden from me, her own urgency to dissipate the recent tension between our two camps was plain to see.

“I trust we won’t be waylaid by any highwaymen, General,” she asked in partial jest.

“Your spies would know more than I,” I returned, “but we should be safe, and if not I’m a fair hand at a sword.”

“I bet you are,” Esmir said, smiling at me as our horses picked up speed.

Passing through the sparsely populated farmland, I could not help but think of my earlier ride into the night to investigate the great fleet of demons reported off our coast. Then, as now, lone farmhands and isolated families had raised their hands in greeting upon hearing our approach. Now, in a unique way, I felt I had defended each of them, served them and served the kingdom, and I found myself raising my hand to wave back.

“You are much closer to your people than I expected,” Esmir called over the sounds of the road.

I ignored her and waved to another family toiling in a field.

Midmorning brought us to our opposing camps and to the credit of my scouts, Gonnaban was waiting by the road as the queen and I reined in our mounts.

“General. Majesty,” Gonnaban greeted us as he steadied our horses for us to dismount.

“Queen Esmir will be continuing on into her camp, Gonnaban, with her steed as a gift,” I said.

“Oh, you knew I picked this beauty for a reason, General,” she said. Then, more genuinely, “Thank you.”

She spurred her new prize and was quickly escorted by some of the 3,000 who still stood stoically in wait for orders. A quick signal from Esmir and the rest followed her in over the numerous bridges that were being dropped over the trench.

“Well, that’s one mercy, Highness,” Gonnaban said, “but the Kullobrini haven’t been idle.”

“I know,” I said. “They burned one of their ships last night.”

“Aye,” answered Gonnaban, “but that’s not all. Our troops sent to the road to Brims? They found the bridge cut.”

“The very road the East Guard will need to reach us,” I said.

“At least the most direct road,” responded Gonnaban. “It’ll add at least two days to the East Guard’s march. I’ve set our troops assigned to that road to repairing the bridge, but it won’t be complete in time to help.”

“How did our patrols miss the saboteurs?” I asked. “We’ve been diligent.”

“My reckoning is that the Kullobrini sent off a group—and probably several more—as soon as they set foot to land,” Gonnaban said. “It’s not as though they can move about the kingdom and not be spotted, so it was their only chance.”

“Send word to the cavalry guarding the road to Kimlott. I want all but a hundred of them helping the infantry rebuild that bridge,” I said.

“And the rest, Highness?”

“Twenty squads scouring the countryside for Kullobrini,” I said. “Woman, child, or man, whomever they find will be marched in front of the Kullobrini tents in chains. It’s more than time they learned who we are.” I stretched my neck, stiff after a hard ride. “Where are my trebuchets?”

“Three built, fourth coming along nicely,” Gonnaban said. “We’re going to put them west of the lookout, near the sea. We’re digging fortifications for them now.”

“Well done, Gonnaban,” I said. “Now get that bridge repaired.”

“At once, ma’am,” Gonnaban said and turned to go.

In the distance, a healer emerged from a soldier’s tent and entered another. A few seconds later, another healer in a different part of the camp brought a poultice to a warrior curled by the fire.

“Gonnaban,” I called, “the healers?”

“A bug, ma’am,” Gonnaban turned and called back. “I thought we’d pinch a seed before it became a weed, as it were.”

“Very well,” I responded, “and send word to the East Guard about the bridge.”

“Well ahead of you, ma’am,” shouted Gonnaban.

In passing, Gonnaban caught a cavalryman dozing and threw him to the ground, blasting an admonishment that would make the horses blush. The man sputtered and scrambled in the dust, but Gonnaban would neither pause nor give room to let the man rise.

“You always are, Gonnaban,” I said and headed to my tent.