Wagons groaned under heavy loads.
Whips cracked and wheels creaked as lumbering oxen pulled their burdens down the road toward the beach. Arutha, Fannon, and Lyam rode before soldiers protecting the wagons traveling between the castle and the shore. Behind the wagons a ragged crowd of townspeople followed. Many carried bundles or pulled carts, following the Duke’s sons toward the waiting ships.
They turned down the road that split off from the town road, and Arutha’s gaze swept over the signs of destruction. The once-thriving town of Crydee was now covered in an acrid blue haze. The sounds of hammering and sawing rang through the morning air as workmen labored to repair what they could of the damage.
The Tsurani had raided at sundown two days before, racing through the town, overwhelming the few guards at their posts before an alarm was raised by terrified women, old men, and children. The aliens had run riot through the town, not pausing until they reached dockside, where they had fired three ships, heavily damaging two. The damaged ships were already limping toward Carse, while the undamaged ships in the harbor had moved down the coast to their present location, north of Sailor’s Grief.
The Tsurani had put most of the buildings near the quay to the torch, but while heavily damaged, they were repairable. The fire had spread into the heart of town, resulting in the heaviest loss there. The Hall of the Craftmasters, the two inns, and dozens of lesser buildings were now only smoldering ruins. Blackened timbers, cracked roof tiles, and scorched stones marked their locations. Fully one third of Crydee had burned before the fire had been brought under control.
Arutha had stood on the wall, watching the hellish glow reflected on the clouds above the town as the flames spread. Then at first light he had led the garrison out, finding the Tsurani already vanished into the forests.
Arutha still chafed at the memory. Fannon had advised Lyam not to allow the garrison out until dawn—fearing it was a ruse to get the castle gates open or to lure the garrison into the woods where a larger force waited in ambush—and Lyam had acceded to the old Swordmaster’s request. Arutha was sure he could have prevented much of the damage had he been allowed to rout the Tsurani at once.
As he rode down the coast road, Arutha was lost in thought. Orders arrived the day before instructing Lyam to leave Crydee. The Duke’s aide-de-camp had been killed, and with the war beginning its third year this spring, he wished Lyam to join him at his camp in Yabon. For reasons Arutha didn’t understand, Duke Borric had not given command to him as expected; instead Borric had named the Swordmaster garrison commander. But, thought the younger Prince, at least Fannon will be less ready to order me about without Lyam’s backing. He shook his head slightly in an attempt to dislodge his irritation. He loved his brother, but wished Lyam had shown more willingness to assert himself Since the beginning of the war, Lyam had commanded in Crydee, but it had been Fannon making all the decisions. Now Fannon had the office as well as the influence.
“Thoughtful, brother?”
Lyam had pulled his own horse up and was now beside Arutha, who shook his head and smiled faintly. “Just envious of you.”
Lyam smiled his warmest at his younger brother. “I know you wish to be going, but Father’s orders were clear. You’re needed here.”
“How needed can I be where every suggestion I make has been ignored?”
Lyam’s expression was conciliatory. “You’re still disturbed by Father’s decision to name Fannon commander of the garrison.”
Arutha looked hard at his brother. “I am now the age you were when Father named you commander at Crydee. Father was full commander and second Knight-General in the West at my age, only four years shy of being named King’s Warden of the West. Grandfather trusted him enough to give him full command.”
“Father’s not Grandfather, Arutha. Remember, Grandfather grew up in a time when we were still warring in Crydee, pacifying newly conquered lands. He grew up in war. Father did not. He learned all his warcraft down in the Vale of Dreams, against Kesh, not defending his own home as Grandfather had. Times change.”
“How they change, brother,” Arutha said dryly “Grandfather, like his father before him, would not have sat behind safe walls. In the two years since the war began, we have not mounted one major offensive against the Tsurani. We cannot continue letting them dictate the course of the war, or surely they will prevail.”
Lyam regarded his brother with concern mirrored in his eyes. “Arutha, I know you are restless to harry the enemy, but Fannon is right in saying we dare not risk the garrison. We must hold here and protect what we have.”
Arutha cast a quick glance at the ragged townspeople behind. “I’ll tell those who follow how well they’re protected.”