Raven's Shadow 01 - Blood Song

The stricken lord cast one more final glance at the rest of the captains, finding either indifference or wary discomfort, before moving to the door and making his exit. “Any more suggestions of evacuation will receive the same response,” Vaelin told the council. “I trust that’s understood.”

 

 

He turned his attention back to the map, ignoring the chorus of affirmation. Once again he was struck by the barrenness of the region, marvelling that three large cities such as Untesh, Linesh and Marbellis could exist on the fringes of such trackless desert. All dust and scrub, as Frentis had said. Haven’t seen a tree since we landed… “No trees.”

 

“My lord?” Baron Banders asked.

 

Vaelin gave no reply and kept his attention on the map as something stirred, the seed of a stratagem nurtured by a faint murmur from the blood-song, building to a chorus as his eyes picked out a pictogram about thirty miles south of the city; a copse of palm trees surrounding a small pool. “What’s this?” he asked Caenis.

 

“The Lehlun Oasis, brother. The only sizeable source of water on the southern caravan route.”

 

“Meaning,” Count Marven said, “the Alpiran army will have to stop there on the way north.”

 

“You mean to poison the water, my lord?” Lord Marshal Al Trendil asked. “An excellent notion. We could spoil it with animal carcasses…”

 

“I don’t mean to do any such thing,” Vaelin replied, continuing to let the blood-song feed his design. The risks are great, and the cost…

 

“We should seal the city, my lord,” Count Marven said, breaking the silence which Vaelin realised had lasted several minutes. “The southbound caravans will surely pass word of our numbers to the enemy.”

 

“People have been leaving by the dozen since the threat of the Red Hand faded,” Vaelin said. “I’d be greatly surprised if the Alpiran commander doesn’t already possess a full picture of our numbers and our preparations. Besides, letting him think us weak could work to our advantage. An overconfident enemy is prone to carelessness.”

 

He gave the map a final glance and moved back from the table. “Baron Banders, I apologise for asking you to take to the saddle again so soon after your arrival, but I require you and your knights on the morrow.” He turned to Caenis. “Brother, have the scout troop assemble at dawn, I will take command personally. In my absence the city is yours. Make every effort to deepen the ditch around the walls and double its width.”

 

“You intend to ambush an army of twenty thousand with a few hundred men?” Count Marven was incredulous. “What can you hope to achieve?”

 

Vaelin was already moving to the door. “An axe without a blade is just a stick.”

 

Further inland the northern desert sands rose into tall dunes, stretching to the horizon like a storm swept sea frozen in gold under a cloudless sky. The sun was too intense to permit marching during the day and they were obliged to travel by night, sheltering under tents in daylight whilst the knights grumbled and their warhorses nickered and stamped hooves in irritation at the unaccustomed heat.

 

“Noisy buggers, this lot,” Dentos observed on the second day out.

 

Vaelin glanced over at a clutch of knights, bickering and shoving each other over a game of dice. Nearby another knight was loudly berating his squire for the lack of polish on his breast plate. He had to agree the knights were hardly the most stealthy soldiers and he would have gladly exchanged them all for a single company from the Order, but there were no brothers to be had and he needed cavalry for this to work.

 

“It shouldn’t matter,” he replied. “They only have to make one charge.” Though, I couldn’t say how many will be left after that.

 

“What about patrols?” Frentis asked. “The Alpirans would be fools not to scout their flanks.”

 

“This far out from the city, I’m hoping they’re foolish enough to do just that. If not, we’ll only have to linger for one day in any case. Any patrol that finds us will have to be silenced and we’ll hope they aren’t missed by nightfall.”

 

It took another two nights before the oasis came into view, shimmering into solidity amidst the baking dunes. Vaelin was surprised by the size of it, expecting little more than a pond and a few palms, but in fact found a small lake surrounded by lush vegetation, a near irresistible jewel of green and blue.

 

“No sign of the Alpirans, brother,” Frentis said, reining in with the scout troop at the foot of the dune where he had halted to survey the oasis. “Seems we beat them to it, like you said.”

 

“Caravans?” Vaelin asked him.

 

“Nothing for miles around.”

 

“We saw scant sign of traders on our journey north, my lord,” Baron Banders commented. “War is never good for commerce. Lest your trading in steel o’course.”

 

Vaelin surveyed the desert, spying a tall, almost mountainous dune two miles to the west. “There,” he said, pointing. “We’ll camp on the westward slope. No fires, and it would be greatly appreciated, Baron, if your men refrained from excessive noise.”