The Eagle’s Flight - Chapter 227: Cold Comfort

South-west of Middanhal, beyond where the Mihtea reappeared from beneath the mountains to flow further in that direction, two men stood by a solitary tree. In the distant, flocks of cattle could be seen, but they were not herders of any kind. They sent looks in every direction, constantly scouting for anything other than cows. Their ordinary clothing and appearance suggested them to be from Hæthiod; even their boots were of ordinary brown colour rather than black.

At length, two men appeared from the north, where the mountains lay. One appeared the same as the others; the second man was harder to describe, walking with a staff. As the two parties noticed each other, three of them hurried towards each other; only the wanderer continued at his usual pace determined by the staff in his hand.

Once Dariush reached Kamran and Arman, the three blackboots embraced tightly, laughing all the while. “You live,” Kamran exclaimed. “We thought the drylanders had killed you.”

Dariush shook his head. “Javed kept me hidden after I had warned him of the assault. I watched the battle from the mountains – never have I felt such dread, nor such relief! Is it really true? Javed told me, but still I cannot believe it.”

The other men nodded. “He fell to a Blade of Ruin. Arman saw it with his own eyes.”

The last mentioned blackboot spat. “And may his body rot while his spirit burns in his precious fire.”

Dariush exhaled. “The morrow has come. A thousand times we said those words in a hundred generations.” He laughed.

Godfrey reached them, wearing the same expression. The others crowded around him, grabbing his shoulders and arms in exuberance. “You did it,” Kamran said. “You ended his reign as you promised.”

“I did my part, as did you,” the wanderer replied. “The drylanders will never know nor understand the dangers you faced, the courage you showed, aiding them from within. There would have been no victory without all your work to undermine our enemy.”

“While it is hard to place reins on our joy, there is something you should know,” Kamran spoke, and the mirth dwindled from his face. “Our work may not be done yet.”

Godfrey frowned. “How so?”

The blackboot hesitated, giving the other men a look. “Last night, the Servant of the Flame anointed Jenaab Sikandar and declared him the Godking incarnate.”

“Preposterous,” Godfrey burst out. “He is nothing but a man.”

“The soldiers do not know the same as us. Rumours run wild through the camp, and with the shock of defeat, many of them struggle to understand. Only a few actually saw the Godking die, and they have quickly been silenced. The rest cling to a comforting lie.”

“And Sikandar uses this to seize power,” the wanderer considered. “With the help of the priesthood, who otherwise would lose all of theirs.”

“If this charade succeeds, nothing will change,” Arman pointed out. “The sacrifices will continue. We will have exchanged one tyrant for another.”

“I assumed they would fall apart with the death of their god.” Godfrey scratched his cheek. “If the other Servants are as wily, we may yet have work to do.”

The three blackboots looked at him. “What can we do?”

Godfrey exhaled. “We’ll need help.”

~~~~

In Middanhal, morning found a city in a strange mood. Revelry born of the great victory had mingled with grief at bloodshed in the streets, and the two emotions had been in conflict throughout the night with people celebrating and mourning side by side. As night passed, feelings subsided; the outbursts and cries, whether born of joy or sorrow, grew hoarse.

No such ambivalence could be felt in the lower levels of the Citadel. The dungeons had only despair and people imprisoned on suspicion of treason; the other great room held corpses. In the vaulted Hall of the Honoured Dead, hundreds of bodies lay on countless large slabs where the cold might delay putrefaction. They represented only a small number of the fallen; pyres had been used for the rest. Yet all of noble birth and many Order soldiers had been hauled through the city to be placed here for the time being. Soon, the norns would appear to wash the dead and prepare them for burial, whether that would be here or in ancestral homes further away.

Still busy tending to the wounded, whose needs took precedence over those of the dead, the red-robed priestesses had yet to arrive for this task. Only one living soul could be found in the hall; his guards remained outside. He stood in one end, where a raised slab held those deemed of particular significance. At the king’s instructions, only one body had been placed here.

Soft footfall announced the presence of another, making her way through the hewn stones to reach Brand. He turned his head briefly before staring once more at the corpse. “Who told on me?”

“Sandar thought you might need company,” Jana admitted.

“I should have him flogged.”

“Undoubtedly.” She moved to stand next to him and look upon the face of the fallen. “Someone you knew, I take it?”

“Sir Richard of Alwood.”

“Who was he?”

“A margrave, though his holdings are of little note. But he was also among the foremost knights of the realm.” Brand swallowed. “And he was my friend.”

“I am sorry for your loss.” She placed her hand to grasp his arm.

“I first met him right after an attack. We were betrayed, in disarray. Yet he trusted me without reservation, gave me my first command, and listened to me in all things. More than that, he was steadfast in his friendship, defying all the nobles of Adalrik rather than denounce me.” Brand let out his breath slowly. “Now he is dead, carrying out my commands.”

“You did not bring this war here,” Jana gently said. “Nor do I think he went to his fate unwillingly. He died defending his home. Do not diminish his honour by claiming responsibility for his death.”

Brand tensed up for a moment before relaxing. “You are right,” he conceded. “But it brings me little comfort. I did not truly appreciate his loyalty, his friendship to me. Now it is too late.”

“There are no words to dull the grief you feel,” Jana admitted. “I carry my own wound in my heart, and time seems the slowest of healers.” She let her head rest on his shoulder. “But you are honouring his memory, and that is all you can do.”

“I suppose.” He sighed. “But it does not end with him, I fear. The battle is won, but the war is not.”

“Alcázar,” Jana breathed, raising her head.

“I dread to think how many soldiers must die in that battle.”

“As in Thusund, I will soon be thought of as your enemy,” she considered.

He turned to look at her. “I will not allow any to threaten you.”

She smiled weakly. “There are not only sharp daggers to fear, but also sharper tongues. You can ill afford any disloyalty, Brand. One jarl alone nearly cost you everything.”

Anger crossed his face before subsiding to be replaced by concern. “I wish I knew what to do. There is so much to consider.”

“For now, you should leave this hall. This cold will be the death of you, and certainly me.”

Brand cast a final look at Sir Richard’s pale face. “Very well. Let us take our leave.”

~~~~

Returning to his chambers, the king found his dragonlord waiting for him, who immediately rose. “I thought I was an early riser,” the jarl jested.

“A lifetime spent in the Order or on campaign will cure all tendencies to sleep past sunrise,” Brand replied, gesturing for a servant to pour him something to drink. “You have something to report?”

“We have apprehended everyone still at Ingmond’s home. Mostly servants and a few thanes. I doubt they have much to say of interest,” Theodoric admitted. “Though I spoke to Valerian late last night.”

“And?”

“Apparently, the alderman was deeply involved in this plot. Which explains why he was at the Citadel yesterday, and why he is dead. I have already had the guards seize everyone and everything of interest at the guild hall. I dare say we stand a better chance of rooting out more traitors through that than with Ingmond.”

“The alderman?” Brand frowned as he sat down, cup in hand. “That simpering fool?”

“A mask, it seems. Regardless, I will get to the truth of it.”

“I expect as much. We were caught unawares, my lord jarl,” the king spoke with a chill in his voice. “Mercenaries in our own city, meant to protect us, yet used against us. Added to that, I am not surprised that Ingmond turned traitor, merely that it went unnoticed.”

Theodoric swallowed, bowing his head. “I shall increase all my efforts.”

“See that you do if you wish to retain your position.”

“What of his jarldom? Given my king’s popularity with this victory, I am sure the Adalthing will consent that Ingmond be given to a new house, whomever my king so chooses.”

“I will consider whom to elevate. For now, send a trustworthy reeve to act on my behalf as jarl until a new is chosen.”

“Yes, my king. As for the old House of Ingmond? Those few that remain.”

“Banish them all,” Brand declared, his voice turning cold once more. “They are tainted by treachery.”

The dragonlord bowed his head in obedience.

~~~~

Eating breakfast in their chambers, Arndis and Eleanor seemed subdued as well. While most of the city had been untouched by strife and thus found it easier to celebrate, the castle had known battle in its very halls and corridors. It did not spill into the royal wing itself, as the remaining kingthanes had built a hasty barricade to keep the enemy out; yet anxious hours had been spent, hearing the sounds of fighting from elsewhere, and in the most dreadful of moments, axes hacking at the barricade to break through. The arrival of the Templars had ended the threat, but its spectre still haunted the inhabitants.

Eleanor cut a pear into pieces. “I still cannot fathom that the alderman was a traitor,” she finally said, taking a piece of fruit. “All the times he came to see you.”

“Perhaps we should not linger on this subject,” Arndis told her. “I see no need to discuss him any further.”

“But all your shared investments into his trade,” the other woman continued. “The guilds must be in turmoil.”

“Yes, Eleanor, I will deal with it in my own time. For now, I would appreciate if you did not mention the alderman again.”

“Of course,” she mumbled.

“If anything, this affair with Jarl Ingmond proves what I told my brother. The pressing matter now is gaining more allies, strengthening our position.”

“You are still to wed Athelstan, are you not? That will secure Isarn for you.”

“It will, but it is not enough. That leaves two jarls whose loyalty could be questioned.”

“Surely not Jarl Theodstan? He serves as the dragonlord.”

“Any man who seeks the power of such high office will always have ambition for more. Not to mention, the vassal kings are not reliable. Vidrevi sent us no aid while the enemy besieged our very home,” Arndis pointed out with a hint of anger.

“They ought to be ashamed of themselves,” Eleanor assented.

“The queen of Thusund is an obvious match for my brother. Their ships rule the sea, and with the threat from Alcázar, they will be needed. With the immediate danger from the outlanders defeated, it is time for Brand to see reason in this regard.”

“Yet Alcázar is why he will not.” The Hæthian lady dipped her bread in olive oil. “He has only eyes for the princess of that city. The whole castle knows.”

Arndis’ fingers fiddled with the stem of her cup. “Perhaps we need to give them something else to talk about.”

~~~~

The lord marshal entered the king’s study, inclining his head. “I have received word from Sir Athelstan, my king.”

“Yes?” Brand looked up from the reports on his desk.

“The outlanders have retreated from their camp. He shadows them with the Order troops at his disposal, but given they still outnumber him, he intends to avoid engagement. They are moving south along the Kingsroad. Whether they will continue all the way to the Reach remains to be seen.”

“I hope to have more intelligence on that matter,” Brand revealed. “I will be able to lay out our strategy soon.”

“There is the question of Alcázar,” William said. “A messenger arrived yesterday morning, though I only learned of his message today.”

“What is it?”

“Portesur has fallen.”

Disbelief coloured the king’s face. “Last we heard, the southerners had landed a few thousand men. That was a few months ago at most. How did the city fall?”

“I know little more at present,” the knight admitted. “The southrons had siege machinery of unprecedented strength, and their current numbers are estimated around fifteen thousand.”

“In itself not a formidable force, but with Portesur in their hands, they will have anchorage for their entire fleet. They will move even more troops from the South now.”

“And they may have added more ships to their fleet,” William considered. “We do not know what lay in the harbour of Portesur when it fell.”

“Even if Thusund still has more ships, we cannot be certain they have the warriors to fill them all and wrest control of the sea back.” Brand scratched his stubbles. “The southerners can pillage the coast and move against Herbergja. If they seize that as well, we will be all but severed from Thusund.”

“And dislodging Alcázar will be difficult. Whoever rules the sea, rules Herbergja.”

Brand took a deep breath. “We still outnumber them on land. If we act swiftly, we will crush them before they can take any more cities.”

“It will take time to march our armies to Ealond, but they cannot hope to take Herbergja before our arrival,” William declared.

“Gather our available commanders this afternoon,” Brand told him. “We will make our plans once I know the intentions of the outlanders.”

“Yes, my king.”

~~~~

The king was eating a simple meal, mostly bread and boiled vegetables, when Godfrey entered. “There you are,” Brand said. “What have you heard from the outlander camp?”

“News to trouble us.”

A line furrowed the king’s brow. “They will not retreat?”

“Oh, they will. I imagine they will not stop until they are beyond the Langstan.”

“Then I see nothing to concern us. Their invasion is defeated.”

“Their haste is driven by the new Godking and his need to consolidate his power, I expect.” Godfrey’s grave expression stood in contrast to Brand’s look of confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Their commander, Sikandar, has claimed the mantle. While not nearly as formidable a foe, if he has support of both the army and the priesthood, he will face no opposition.”

The king shrugged. “So? If he leaves our lands, he may do as he pleases.”

“This does not mean an end to war as I had hoped,” the wanderer retorted. “Adalmearc killed their god. The priests will not forget this.”

“You fear their revenge? I would imagine they have their hands full.”

“Yet to maintain power, what better way than to give their people an enemy to hate? Every sacrifice, every act of oppression will be justified in this manner. They will paint Adalmearc as the imminent threat, and they will resume hostilities. They must in order to justify their harsh rule.”

“Even if that is the case, we have dealt them a severe defeat. If you look south, the columns of smoke can be seen even from here, burning the piles of their dead.”

“True, you may have peace for now. But you delay the issue, leaving it for your son to deal with. Or his son. Adalmearc will never know peace with the Reach until the priests are removed.”

Brand stared at his visitor, raising his hands. “What exactly do you expect? That I invade the Reach to the east while another enemy takes my cities to the west?”

“You have one opportunity to solve this,” Godfrey warned him. “Previous rulers thought as you did, and the outlanders always returned. This will also allow you to fulfil your promise to the dvalinn. I will remind you that the Dwarves held a precarious position during the battle, defending your flank while outnumbered.”

“This is preposterous,” Brand objected. “My people are exhausted from battles, and I already have one war to win against Alcázar. The outlanders are in flight. I cannot justify renewing the war against them. How many years of siege would it take to conquer the Reach? Meanwhile, Alcázar overruns Ealond.”

“It would take months, not years,” Godfrey claimed. “You will have all the needed intelligence. Cities, garrisons, troops, routes with freshwater. The outlanders are wounded and demoralised. Now is the time to strike.”

“Even with all these advantages, how many cities must I besiege? How many assaults must be ordered? I will have barely any soldiers left to fight Alcázar.”

Godfrey shook his head. “You need only take one city. Sikandar will retreat to the mountain of the Godking. He will consider it safe and use its prestige to further support his claim to power.”

“A mountain? That does not sound easy to conquer.”

“I have the key. Your forces will take it in a day with barely any casualties.”

Brand gave him a long look. “What is it? A traitor? A hidden passage past the defences?”

Godfrey smiled. “You will not believe me unless you see it. But I promise, once you see, you will understand everything.”

“How? You will have to explain better.”

“A power dwells, ready at your command, my king. But we must undertake a journey for a few days, and no others can come with us.”

Brand laughed with an edge in his voice. “If you think my thanes will allow that, or the court will not raise questions, you are not as wise as I once thought.”

“Bring Glaukos,” the wanderer conceded. “He knows to keep quiet. Brand,” he continued, “even Sigvard could not end the threat from the Reach. I promise you this. You will be the greatest ruler these lands have ever known.”

“Your flattery becomes more and more primitive,” Brand retorted.

“Granted. But can you resist?”

The king exhaled a deep breath. “I will consider it. Leave me to think and finish my meal.” As Godfrey bowed his head and left, Brand returned his attention to his cold vegetables.