Chapter 36
The busy confusion of the large camp gradually grew quieter as the last light of the setting sun faded. Dark strands that had been staining the red and pink clouds stretched across the horizon, slowly spread to make them cold, grim and distant.
Stars began to appear in the purpling sky, while more homely lights were struck inside the rows of tents and wagons. Fires were stoked to help keep the chill of the coming night from bearing too hard on the many sentries posted about the camp.
Lamps, too, were lit in Ibris's command tent, reshaping its dull greyness with new and warmer shadows. Ibris was lounging back in a large chair while Menedrion, Arwain and Ryllans were sitting to one side of him. Ciarll Feranc, silhouetted against a particularly bright lamp, was bending over a table, examining a map. A large fire burned in the centre of the tent, its fumes rising into a decorated cowl that carried them out into the night.
The group's deliberations were interrupted discreetly by an announcement from the guard at the door, and Antyr entered accompanied by Estaan. They brought with them a brief swirl of cold air, and the fire flared up momentarily, releasing a soft puff of smoke into the tent. Menedrion scowled at the decorated cowl and then leaned forward to strike it with the flat of his hand.
Behind Antyr and Estaan came Pandra, his posture a little self-conscious, as it invariably was in the Duke's presence.
Ibris motioned them all to sit down then stroked the heads of Tarrian and Grayle which appeared suddenly on his knees. As usual the two wolves flopped down across his feet.
'To continue, gentlemen,’ Ibris said. ‘It seems that we're ready to begin our march towards Bethlar. Politically, the attack on Whendrak gives us the right under the terms of the treaty. Militarily, our force is large enough and growing daily and we've received no indication that the Bethlarii are using this as a diversion while they mount a major attack elsewhere. Morally…’ He shrugged sadly. ‘Who can say? We've lost two of the three heralds we sent out with messages for the Hanestra asking for a meeting, and the third only escaped because someone shot at him prematurely.’ He paused and shook his head slowly. ‘It's unbelievable,’ he said, almost to himself. ‘Killing heralds now…'
Then he let out a sharp breath and pressed on. ‘All the evidence that our advance patrols are bringing back confirms that the Bethlarii seem to be mobilizing the entire people. In theory we could just wait, fight a defensive war until their country collapses about them, but we may be more vulnerable than they are to such a sustained drain of men and women from their normal lives. Besides which if we let them finish their mobilization we'll be facing a truly huge army. Attack now is no more than self-defence…'
His doubt hung heavy in the air, but no one spoke.
He dispelled it himself. With a dismissive wave of his hand, he sat upright abruptly, disturbing Tarrian and Grayle.
'How are things on our second front?’ he asked Antyr.
Antyr hesitated briefly before replying. ‘Nothing untoward has happened recently, sire.'
Ibris's eyes narrowed. ‘But …?’ he asked, catching a doubt in the Dream Finder's voice.
Antyr hesitated again and looked round awkwardly at the listening group. ‘I don't know,’ he said. ‘Nothing has happened, but there's an unease in the…’ He moved his hands vaguely.
'In the what?’ Ibris asked, before Antyr could continue.
'In the mingling of the dream ways … the … night thoughts … over the camp … it's difficult to explain,’ Antyr answered. ‘It's as if a great storm were going on somewhere … or were about to arrive. The atmosphere's jagged, tense…'
'Several thousand men expecting to march to war soon are hardly going to be at their most relaxed, Antyr,’ Ibris said.
'No,’ Antyr said, shaking his head. ‘That's disturbing but not unexpected, as you say. But this is beneath and beyond. Faint and distant, but all-pervasive. I can't say what it is or what it means, I've never felt anything like it before. It worries me.'
Ibris frowned and turned to Pandra. ‘Have you noticed this strange … atmosphere … pervading the, whatever they are, the night thoughts?’ he asked.
'I feel nothing but the doubts and fear that you yourself described,’ Pandra replied. ‘But I don't have either Antyr's skill or his sensitivity. My not noticing something doesn't mean it isn't there.'
Ibris's frown deepened. ‘Wolf?’ he said in some irritation.
'Listen to Antyr, pack leader,’ Tarrian replied. ‘And don't be so angry just because you didn't get the answer you wanted. You hired him to do a job and he's doing it.'
'I
'Oh, so that's why Aaken's so slow paying his wages? It's an honorarium? Prompt payment isn't dignified. I understand now. Very complicated, humans.'
Despite the grimness of the moment, Ibris found his irritation evaporating at Tarrian's tone. He chuckled softly.
'I'm sorry, Antyr,’ he said after a moment. ‘I wouldn't rail at a messenger because he couldn't see through a mountain, so I should have listened and thought before I spoke. Tell me what you can, however vague. I'm still concerned about the warning that Whendrak is the lure. I see no military traps waiting for us so I'm waiting for some other revelation.'
Antyr's forehead furrowed with effort. ‘I've no reason for saying this,’ he said softly. ‘No logic, no observed sightings, intercepted messages. But I can't help but feel that the trap, whatever it is, is already beginning to close.'
All eyes turned to him. Even Ciarll Feranc inclined his head towards him as he maintained his scrutiny of the map on the table.
'Somewhere, something dire is happening,’ he went on before anyone could speak. ‘But it's not here. Here you must do what you can see to do. Wherever this trap lies, it's beyond your finding for the moment. I … we … will watch the dreamways and give you what warning we can, and what protection we can.'
Ibris leaned back, his face anxious. ‘I'm at a loss,’ he said. ‘You tell me to go to battle with the Bethlarii while some other ambush is under way. What am I to make of that?'
Antyr met his gaze. ‘Just that, sire,’ he said, his voice quiet but unequivocal. ‘You've an enemy that you can see. Fight him with all your skill or you'll be defeated. You've also an enemy you can't see.’ He waved a hand across Pandra and the two wolves. ‘We will watch for him, and advise you as well as we're able. Until that time, you can do nothing about him. Nothing!'
'Your mind is clear enough about that, I see,’ Ibris replied. He looked round at the watching faces.
'Do any of you wish to add anything to this advice?’ he asked.
Ryllans indicated Estaan. ‘We've been constantly on the alert for … strange … happenings ever since Antyr's encounter with the Dream Finder Nyriall, but we've felt nothing.'
Ibris glanced at Feranc. ‘I've sent further messengers to Viernce,’ he said, without looking up from the map.
'Enough of all this,’ Menedrion burst out impatiently. ‘We're all agreed about this dream nonsense, and we're wasting time pursuing it further. Nothing's happened so far, and if something's about to then we can't do anything else but wait and rely on…’ He waved vaguely at Antyr and Pandra.
'More importantly…’ The vague gesture became positive, and pointed in the general direction of Bethlar. ‘There's an army of lunatics out there, growing day by day, and if we don't deal with them very soon, we'll none of us have any dreams to worry about in future.’ He leaned forward, clenching his fist to make his point. ‘We should move against them immediately. Hit them hard, hit them fast, hit them now! Then, we can fret about our dreams at our ease.'
'Succinctly summarized, Irfan,’ Ibris said, smiling to take the edge off the irony in his voice. ‘Anyone else got anything to say?'
There was no reply.
'Very well, gentlemen,’ he said, standing up. ‘We march tomorrow.'
