‘I still get his heart, though,’ Aphrael insisted.

Chapter 13

The sky was overcast with sullen cloud, and a chill, arid wind scoured the empty floor of the Desert of Cynesga as Vanion led the retreat eastward. Fully half of his armored knights had perished in the encounter with Klæl’s soldiers, and very few of the survivors had escaped serious injury. Vanion had ridden forth from Sarna with an army. He was returning at the head of a column of groaning invalids, battered and dented, after what had really been no more than a skirmish.

Four Atans carried Engessa on a litter, and Queen Betuana strode along at his side, her face ravaged with grief. Vanion sighed. Engessa was still breathing, but only barely.

The Preceptor straightened in his saddle, trying to shake off his shock and dismay and to think rationally. The fight with Klæl’s warriors had decimated his force of Church Knights, and they had been central to the strategy of containment. Without those armored horsemen, the eastern frontier of Tamul Proper was no longer secure.

Vanion muttered a sour oath. The only thing he could really do now was to warn the others about the change in the situation. ‘Sir Endrik,’ he called to the old veteran riding some distance behind, ‘take over here. I’ve got something to take care of.’

Endrik came forward.

‘Keep them going east,’ Vanion instructed. ‘I’ll be back in a little bit.’ He spurred his tired horse into a loping canter and rode on ahead.

When he was about a mile in front of the column, he reined in and cast the spell of summoning.

Nothing happened.

He cast it again, more urgently this time.

‘What?’ Aphrael’s voice in his ear was irritably impatient.

‘I’ve got some bad news, Divine One,’ he told her.

‘What else can go wrong? Hurry up, Vanion. I’m very busy right now.’

‘We ran into Klæl out in the desert. He had an army of giants with him, and we got very badly mauled. Tell Sparhawk and the others that I probably won’t be able to hold Samar if the Cynesgans lay siege to it. I’ve lost half of the knights, and the ones I’ve got left aren’t in any condition for a fight. Tikume’s Peloi are brave men, but they don’t have any experience with sieges.’

‘When did this happen?’

‘About four hours ago. Can you find Abriel and the other preceptors? They should be in Zemoch or Western Astel by now. They have to be warned about Klæl. Tell them that under no circumstances should they engage in any pitched battles with Klæl’s troops. We’re no match for them. If the main body of the Church Knights gets waylaid and wiped out, we’ll lose this war.’

‘Who are these giants you’re talking about, Vanion?’

‘We didn’t have time for introductions. They’re bigger than the Atans, though – almost as big as Trolls. They wear very close-fitting armor and steel face-masks. Their weapons aren’t like anything I’ve ever seen, and they’ve got yellow blood.’

‘Yellow? That’s impossible!’

‘It’s yellow all the same. You can come here and look at my sword-blade, if you’d like. I managed to kill a couple of them while I was covering Betuana’s retreat.’

‘Retreat? Betuana?’

‘She was carrying Engessa.’

‘What’s wrong with Engessa?’

‘He was out front a little ways, and Klæl’s soldiers attacked him. He fought well, but they swarmed him under. We charged into them, and Betuana cut her way through to Engessa. I ordered a retreat and covered Betuana while she carried Engessa to the rear. We’re taking him back to Sarna, but I think it’s a waste of effort. The side of his head’s been bashed in, and I’m afraid we’re going to lose him.’

‘Don’t say that, Vanion. Don’t ever say that. There’s always hope.’

‘Not much this time, Divine One. When somebody breaks into a man’s brain, about all you can do for him is dig a grave.’

‘I’m not going to lose him, Vanion! How fast can you get him back to Sarna?’

‘Two days, Aphrael. It took us two days to get here, and two days out means two days back.’

‘Can he hold on that long?’

‘I doubt it.’

She said a short, ugly word in Styric. ‘Where are you?’

‘Twenty leagues south of Sarna and about five leagues out into the desert.’

‘Stay there. I’ll come and find you.’

‘Be a little careful when you approach Betuana. She’s behaving very strangely.’

‘Say what you mean, Vanion. I don’t have time for riddles.’

‘I’m not sure what I mean, Aphrael. Betuana’s a soldier, and she knows that people sometimes get killed in battle. Her reaction to what’s happened to Engessa is – well – excessive. She’s broken down completely.’

‘She’s an Atan, Vanion. They’re a very emotional people. Go back and halt your column. I’ll be there in a little while.’

Vanion nodded, although there was no one there to nod to, turned his horse and rode back to rejoin his knights. ‘Any change?’ he asked Queen Betuana.

She lifted her tear-streaked face. ‘He opened his eyes once, Vanion-Preceptor,’ she replied. ‘I don’t think he saw me, though.’ She was holding Engessa’s hand.

‘I talked with Aphrael,’ he advised her. ‘She’s coming here to have a look at him. Don’t give up hope yet, Betuana. Aphrael cured me, and I was closer to being dead than Engessa is.’

‘He is fairly strong,’ she said. ‘If the Child Goddess can heal his wound before it carries him off –’ Her voice caught with an odd little note.

‘He’ll be all right, your Majesty,’ he said, trying to sound more certain than he really was. ‘Can you get word to your husband? – about Klæl, I mean? He should know about those soldiers Klæl hides under his wings.’

‘I’ll send a runner. Should I tell Androl to come to Sarna instead of going to Tosa? Klæl is here now, and Scarpa’s army won’t reach Tosa for quite some time – and that’s only if they can evade the Trolls.’

‘Let’s wait until I’ve had the chance to talk with the others first. Is King Androl already on the march?’

‘He should be. Androl always jumps when I suggest something. He’s a good man – and very, very brave.’ She said it almost as if defending her husband from some unspoken criticism, but Vanion noticed that she absently stroked Engessa’s ashen face even as she spoke.