“Lord Laetho used to say that you've more chance of making a Karien dance a heathen jig naked in the moonlight than you have of turning him from his God,” he offered helpfully.
“Maybe I should call on the God of Music, then,” R'shiel grumbled, obviously not pleased that things were not going according to plan.
“Do the Harshini
“Gimlorie is the God of Music, Mikel, and he is as insubstantial and ephemeral as music itself. When I was in Sanctuary, the Harshini would call on him sometimes. His song is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard. It touches men's souls...”
Mikel stared at R'shiel as a slow, devious smile crept over her face. “Music of any kind is frowned upon in Karien, my Lady. It's a sin,” Mikel added.
R'shiel looked down at him and smiled. “Not any more, it isn't.”
She grabbed his hand suddenly and led him away from the direction of the infirmary tent, leaving him even more confused.
“My Lady?” he ventured, as he hurried along beside her through the organised chaos that was all that was left of the Defenders' camp. It seemed as if most of it had vanished into the supply wagons while they were talking.
“You don't have to keep calling me that, Mikel. My name is R'shiel.”
“It wouldn't be proper, my Lady. Where are we going?”
“We're going to summon the God of Music, Mikel.”
“Why?”
R'shiel looked down at him and smiled reassuringly. “He's going to teach you how to sing.”
Mikel didn't know whether to be frightened by R'shiel or not. She had never done him any harm; in fact she had virtually ignored him up until this morning, when she suddenly decided she needed him for some yet-to-be- revealed task. She was all but dragging him towards the tents where the Hythrun Raiders were accommodated.
“Almodavar!”
The savage-looking Hythrun turned at the sound of her voice.
“Divine One?”
“Please don't call me that. Where is Mikel's brother?”
“Young Jaymes? Down with the horses helping Nercher if he knows what's good for him,” the captain replied. “Has he done something I should know about?”
“No. But I'd like to see him. Can you send him to me?”
The captain nodded and turned to give the order to fetch Jaymes. Mikel glanced at R'shiel curiously.
“What do you want with Jaymes, my Lady?”
“You're going to learn a song, Mikel. Jaymes is going to be there to make sure you don't get lost in it.”
“I see,” Mikel said, nodding sagely, although in truth he understood nothing at all.
CHAPTER 6
By early afternoon, the Defenders were ready to move out. That morning, the camp had been the size of a small town. Now there was nothing left but a large area of trampled grass to mark their passing. He knew they had been setting up and pulling down the camp each day while they travelled north from the Citadel. The late Lord Setenton enjoyed his creature comforts and would have it no other way, but in the two weeks they had spent camped on the plain they had settled in so comfortably, Damin found it hard to believe they could dismantle it all with such speed.
His own Raiders took less time to organise, but they were fewer and had been travelling much more lightly than the Defenders. Almodavar had had them ready to leave hours ago. What kept them here now were the Kariens.
His men formed a mounted ring around the captured knights, bows strung, arrows at the ready, waiting for one of them to break. Damin didn't know why they were holding the Kariens here while the Defenders went on ahead, and a part of him was afraid to ask. He knew as well as anyone the dilemma these prisoners posed. That the Defenders were leaving them behind did not augur well for their future.
Karien they might be, but Damin held no personal grudge against them. They all seemed woefully young and inexperienced to him. The oldest of them could not have been more than twenty. He prayed fervently that R'shiel did not expect him to slaughter these children in cold blood.
“What are we waiting for?”
Adrina rode up beside him with her slave close behind. She was wrapped in a warm cloak against the cold and looked anxious to get moving. She had been remarkably quiet since their conversation on the edge of the camp this morning. That worried Damin a little. She was undoubtedly plotting something and it probably involved him and a lot of blood. He should have kept his big mouth shut.
“We're waiting for R'shiel, I think. And for the Defenders to move out.”
“Where is the demon child, anyway?”
Damin shrugged. “Nobody's seen her for hours.”
Adrina looked at the nervous Kariens. They had been pushed into a tight cluster, ringed by the Raiders and to a man they wore expressions of uncertainty. Damin could imagine what was going through their minds.
“What's going to happen to them?”
“I don't know.”
“You're not going to...”
“Kill them? I wish I knew.” He turned in the saddle at the sound of hoofs and found Denjon and Linst riding towards them at a canter. The red-coated Defenders reined in when they reached them.
“We're ready to move out,” Denjon informed them.
“How's Tarja?”
“Much the same. He's in one of the wagons with a medic. We'll be setting a hard pace, I'm afraid, but it can't be avoided.”
“How long will it take you to reach the border?”
“About six weeks,” the captain replied. “We could get there sooner if we dumped the supply wagons, but I'm loath to do that, for obvious reasons. We'll only resort to that if we're being pursued.” The captain glanced meaningfully at the Karien prisoners. “I hope this works.”
“You hope what works?” Adrina asked.
“R'shiel's grandiose plan for turning the Kariens back,” he said.
“And what is that, exactly?”
“We don't know and I'm not sure we want to,” Linst remarked. “She asked that we be gone before she does it, so we can only assume it's some heathen ritual that she'd rather we didn't witness.”
“Heathen ritual or not, I can't say I'll mind missing it,” Denjon said. Then he reached forward and offered Damin his hand. “I wish you luck, Lord Wolfblade.”
“You'll need it more than I,” Damin said, accepting the handshake. “With all your troops and the Kariens concentrated in the north, weather permitting I'll have a clear run down to Hythria. You're the ones taking the long road.”
“I was thinking more of what happens when you
“I'll worry about that when I get there.”
“Then I'll look forward to meeting you again on your side of the border. For all our sakes I hope it goes well for you, my Lord. And for you too, Your Highness.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
Damin glanced at Adrina curiously. Her thanks sounded genuine. There was no hint of her usual sarcastic
