He glanced over his shoulder for a moment at the chaos in the streets and smiled. “You mean this?”
She nodded.
“Oh, yes, everyone is fine, as far as we can tell. Just after dawn there was some sort of... well, I don't know what it was, but it knocked most of the Harshini unconscious and everybody else just seemed to go berserk for a while. We're getting it under control, but it's taking time, and now the Kariens are attacking.”
“Attacking?”
“Don't worry, it's nothing serious. They're fighting amongst themselves as much as they're aiming at us, but we still have to do something to put it down. Sergeant!” A Defender hurried forward and saluted. “See that she gets back to her rooms and post a guard. I don't want anybody disturbing Lady R'shiel while she's resting, is that clear?”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“Tarja, I don't need —”
“Shut up, R'shiel. You can hardly stand. Sergeant, once the Lady R'shiel is in her rooms, find Mandah Rodak and send her to keep the lady company.”
“
Tarja grinned at her, knowing full well what his order meant. Mandah would not let her budge until she was convinced she was fully recovered. Worse than that, Mandah would insist on calling her “Divine One”. He thrust her into the arms of the waiting sergeant and ran for his horse, yelling orders as he leapt into the saddle and resumed his push to the main gate. R'shiel watched him leave with a furious snarl, but she was too tired to resist and let the Defender lift her onto his mount and take her away from the bedlam that filled the streets of the Citadel.
CHAPTER 61
The Defenders beat back the attack on the Citadel with little effort. The Kariens were too disorganised to mount a serious campaign, despite their numerical superiority. By mid-morning they had withdrawn to the other side of the Saran. A significant number withdrew even further. Desertions were decimating the ranks of the Karien army on a regular basis. Garet estimated there were less than seventy thousand left.
By the time Tarja returned to his office to confront the remainder of the aftermath of whatever it was that R'shiel had unleashed, he was exhausted. He had not been immune to the party atmosphere last night and had consumed far too much wine. When all hell broke loose at dawn he had woken with a head as thick as a door, his bed a tangle of sheets and Mandah curled in his arms, her thick blonde hair spilling across the pillow and tickling his nose. He had pushed her away impatiently, annoyed at himself. He had not intended to get caught up in the celebrations. He had certainly not intended to take Mandah to his bed, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he had done so because R'shiel had given him her blessing.
Seeing that she was wounded by his rejection, Tarja had kissed Mandah soundly, promised to see her later and fled the room, getting dressed on the run. He was hopping on one foot, pulling his boot onto the other when Garet knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for an answer.
“We appear to be under attack, my Lord,” Garet said calmly. He looked over Tarja's shoulder towards the bedroom door. Mandah stood there wrapped in nothing but a sheet, yawning sleepily. “Good morning, Mandah.”
“Commandant.”
Tarja glared at Garet, waiting for him to say something, anything, about finding the young pagan woman in his room. He was in a foul enough mood to react rather badly if Garet even looked at him askance.
But the commandant's composure did not waver for an instant. “Oh, and the population appears to be rioting, too.”
“What the hell happened?”
“I assume it has something to do with R'shiel, but I can't be certain. I suggest you get a move on, my Lord. We've a busy day ahead of us.”
That had proved to be a vast understatement. Tarja yearned for a day that was
There was always more to be done.
When he finally pushed open the door to his office, he found several Harshini waiting for him. Three were dressed in the long white robes they favoured. The other two were dressed in Dragon Riders' leathers. All five of them bowed solemnly as he entered the office and walked cautiously to his desk.
“My Lord Defender.”
“How is Shan... your Queen?”
“She is recovering, my Lord,” one of the white-robed Harshini informed him. “We are most grateful for your assistance this morning.”
“And the rest of your people?”
“They are well, my Lord. Thank you for your concern.”
The Harshini's constant thanks were starting to wear on him. “Is there something I can do for you?”
“We are here to do something for you, my Lord.” The Harshini who spoke was one of the Dragon Riders. She stepped forward with a smile. “I am Pilarena and this is Jalerana. I have been honoured to aid Prince Damin in his journey north and my companion has been with King Hablet and his navy. We have come to coordinate your forces, my Lord.”
Tarja slumped back in his chair in astonishment. “Coordinate my forces?”
“We will relay messages, my Lord,” the other Dragon Rider explained. “If they are verbal, then we will carry messages of goodwill. If you want to communicate anything... else, then we must ask that the messages are written and sealed and that we are not advised of their contents.”
Tarja nodded in understanding. The Harshini could do nothing to aid their attack. If they knew the messages they carried were likely to cause death, they would not deliver them. He smiled faintly, thinking that they were very easy to underestimate. This race had survived for thousands of years without being able to lift a finger in their own defence. He was beginning to understand how they had managed it.
“Can you show me where they are now?” he asked, indicating the map laid out on his desk. He and Garet had been poring over it yesterday, trying to guess where Damin might be.
Jalerana nodded and stepped forward. “The High Prince is here, my Lord. He has with him approximately forty thousand men. The King of Fardohnya is here and has another ten thousand. His Majesty asked that I pass on his apologies that he could not bring a larger force. In the time available it was all he could gather, and there are only so many ships he could carry them in.”
“Then we have fifty thousand men ready to attack?”
“
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you.”
She bowed slightly. “You are forgiven, my Lord.”
“How did Damin get here so fast? With an army that big?”
“With the aid of the gods,” Jalerana told him serenely.
Tarja shook his head, deciding he would be better off if he didn't know the details. “I'd like to send a message to both Hablet and Damin. Written messages. How soon before you can leave?”
“We will be ready when your dispatches are completed,” Jalerana assured him.
“Then if you would excuse me, Divine Ones, I have a lot of work to do.”
