There had been none of the trappings common to a royal funeral, but the business of war made it necessary. He had been quickly embalmed and buried in his armor next to Borric, on a hillside overlooking the camp. When the war was over, they would be returned to the tombs of their ancestors in Rillanon.
Now the young Heir looked over the map, gauging the situation in light of the latest communique from the front. The Tsurani held in the North Pass, at the entrance to the valley. The infantry had dug in before them, bottling up those in the valley, and isolating both the forces along the river Crydee and what was left of the salient.
“We have broken their offensive,” said Lyam, “but it is a two-edged sword. We cannot attempt to fight on two fronts. We must also be ready should the Tsurani try to move against us from the south. I see no quick ending yet, in spite of our gains.”
Brucal said, “But surely those in the salient will surrender soon. They are cut off, with little food or water, and cannot expect to be resupplied In a matter of days they will be starving.”
Pug interrupted. “Forgive me, Lord Brucal, but they will not.”
“What can they gain by resisting? Their position is hopeless.”
“They tie up your forces that would otherwise be attacking the main camp. Soon the situation in Tsuranuanni will be resolved enough for magicians to return from the Assembly. Then food and water can be transported in without interference. And each day they hold strengthens the Tsurani as reinforcements arrive from Kelewan. They are Tsurani and will gladly die rather than be taken captive.”
Lyam asked, “Are they so honor bound to die, then?”
“Yes. On Kelewan they know only that captives become slaves. The idea of a prisoner exchange is unknown to them.”
“Then we must bring all our weight to bear upon the salient at once,” said Brucal. “We must crush them and free our soldiers to deal with other threats.”
“It will prove costly,” Lyam observed. “This time there will be no element of surprise, and they are dug in like moles. We could lose two men for each of theirs.”
Kulgan had been sitting off to one side with Laurie and Meecham. “It is a tragedy that we have gained only a broadening of the fighting. And so soon after the Emperor’s offer of peace.”
Pug said, “Perhaps it is still not too late.”
Lyam looked at Pug. “What do you mean? Kasumi must have already sent word that the peace was refused.”
“Yes, but there may still be time to send word that there will be a new king who is willing to talk peace.”
“Who will carry the message?” asked Kulgan. “Your life might be forfeit if you return to the Empire.”
“We may be able to solve two problems at once. Your Highness, may I have your leave to promise the Tsurani in the salient safe passage to their lines?”
Lyam considered this. “I will, if I have their parole not to return for a year’s time.”
“I will go to them, then,” said Pug. “Perhaps we can still end this war in spite of the calamities that have befallen us.”
The Tsurani guards, nervous and alert, tensed at the sound of an approaching rider. “They come!” one shouted, and men seized weapons and hurried to the barricades. The southern earthworks were still intact, but here at the western edge of the former salient the pickets had thrown up a hasty barrier of felled trees and shallow trenches.
Bowmen stood ready, arrows notched, but the expected charge did not come. A single figure on horseback came into view. His hands were raised overhead, palms together in the sign for parley. And more, he wore the black robe.
The rider walked his horse to the edge of the barricade and asked, in perfect Tsurani, “Who commands here?”
A startled officer said, “Commander Wataun.”
The rider snapped, “You forget your manners, Strike Leader.” He took note of the colors and devices on the man’s breastplate and helm. “Are the Chilapaningo so lacking in civility?”
The officer came to attention. “Your pardon, Great One,” the man stammered. “It is only that you were unexpected.”
“Bring Commander Wataun here.”
“Your will, Great One.”
The commander of the Tsurani salient came a short time later. He was a bandy-legged, barrel-chested old fighter, and Great One or not, his first concern was for the welfare of his troops. He looked at the magician suspiciously. “I am here, Great One.”
“I have come to order you and your soldiers back to the valley.”
Commander Wataun smiled ruefully and shook his head. “I regret, Great One, that I may not. Word of your exploits has been carried to us here, and that the Assembly has called your status into question. You may be no longer outside the law by now. If you had not come under a sign of parley, I would have you taken, though it would cost us dearly.”
Pug felt a hot flush come to his cheeks. He had known it was likely the Assembly would cast him out, but to hear this still caused him pain. Ruefully, he knew that because of the training he had undergone, he would still feel a sense of loyalty to that alien place and would never fully feel at home in his native land.
With a sigh Pug said, “What then will you do?”