Diamond Warriors

you. And so someone will certainly send word to Morjin of our plans.'

'Yes, someone will,' I told him, 'no matter what we do. Our army cannot move through Delu unnoticed. But if Master Matai is right, the Galdans are now likely five days at sea. We must hope that in the next five days, Morjin will not have time to learn of what we intend. Or if he does, that he will not be able to inform King Mansul.'

'Always,' Maram said, 'we seem to find ourselves in circumstances in which fate forces us to hope too much.'

'Is it too much, then, that when the odds favor us, the dice should fall our way?'

'No, my friend, it is not — not unless Morjin breathes his foul breath upon them.' He sighed then shook his head. 'But at least we can count on one thing: my father will oppose neither our army nor our enemy. He will wait to see how things fall out between us.'

'If we gain a victory,' I said, 'we can hope that he will join us.'

'We can hope that,' he told me. 'But that it seems to me, truly is wishing for a miracle.'

After that I led our army into Delu, No garrison guarded the passage into this realm, nor did the local lords send any knights or soldiers to oppose us. For hundreds of years, there had been peace between Delu and Kaash, and the Delian kings could not afford to spend any force protecting such a wild frontier. Few people lived in this mountainous region, and those who did kept to themselves and tried to mind their own business. They might have fled at the approach of an army marching out of a foreign land, but we Valari had never pillaged or raped, even in the worst of wars. Then, too, I sent out envoys through the countryside to inform the poor farmers and hunters that we would not requisition supplies but would pay good gold and silver for whatever food and forage the local Delians could sell us. In this way, we gained their good will and acquiescence to our purpose, if not their friendship.

The roads we found to take us toward the east had nearly crumbled into dirt tracks or sheets of scree, but at least we were able to get our wagons down them. The first day of our passage through Delu proved the most difficult for we had to work our way up and over a pass known as the Eagle's Nest. On the other side, however, the Morning Mountains lost elevation with nearly every mile, and soon fell off into a succession of lines of old, worn hills. As the land grew ever more gentle, the rises were blanketed in black ash, oak, chestnut and red poplar while through the valleys grew beech, walnut and elm. Wild grape hung thick about the trees' trunks, and it was the time of year when the plum trees grew heavy with their purple fruits. Maram, often riding alongside me, remarked that Delu was a fair land that had a sad, violent history. He might, I thought have been speaking of Ea herself and all the misfortunes of the last eighteen thousand years.

The next four days we spent in our rush to the sea. Urgency drove us to pound forth over rocky roads and fairiy swim our way through slips of mud and around bogs. Twelve wagons suffered broken wheels or axles, and we had to abandon them. And my men truly suffered, mostly from cramping muscles, shin splints and bleeding feet; no matter how hard they might be, men were still made of flesh that could too easily be exhausted broken or worn by wet boots right off their bones. Forty-six warriors had to fall out of their columns on the third day of our march, and by the fifth day, another hundred and twenty. I could not, however, simply abandon them. We cleared out stores from another two dozen wagons, inside of which the wounded rested and waited for Master Juwain and our other healers to attend them. It was a measure of my warriors' spirits, I thought, that to a man they pleaded with Master Juwain to make them whole and ready for the day of battle.

On the 11th of Soal, I sent outriders to the east to scout the countryside ahead of us, all the way to the sea. That night, as we made camp in a valley full of walnut orchards and potato farms, one of these riders returned with good news — and bad.

'Sire,' a young knight named Sar Galajay said to me in the relative quiet of my tent, 'the sea is close: less than half a day's march from here. We found the place called the Seredun Sands and the Pillars of Heaven. And great rocks they are, black as coal and rising two hundred feet above the beach. Such white sands! I've never seen their like! It is a perfect place for a battle! The beach is half a mile wide and stretches north and south for as far as the eye can see. Three hills block the way to it. If we are careful, they will cover our approach. The enemy would have no sight of us, only …'

His voice died into the crackling of many fires and the other sounds of our encampment. I waited for him to go on, and he added, 'Only, there is no enemy! Nothing but empty sands and the wind blowing them into little mounds like sugar.'

'Thank you,' I said to him, nodding my head. I tried to fight down my great disappointment and make good of his news. 'Then the hardships of our march have not been in vain. Surely our enemy will make landfall tomorrow or on the day after that.'

Sar Galajay did not gainsay my optimistic words or point out that Master Matai might have been wrong and our enemy might land far to the north or south of the Seredun Sands — or indeed, might have come ashore already. While Lords Sharad, Tanu, Harsha and Tomavar looked on, Sar Galajay tried to pick up on my forced high spirits, saying to me, 'We are hoping you are right. Sire. Sar Siravay and Sar Torald remain in the hills above the beach, watching for our enemy's approach.'

Later that night, I stood around a fire with Kane and Bemossed, and others, listening to Alphanderry sing. He gave the warriors verses from an ancient epic to inspirit them and ignite their valor. He praised the warriors' true essence, which shone the same in all men and women, as it did within the One, and could never be extinguished:

Who takes up sword to rend and slay,

Cut men from life like sheaves of hay?

To feel, in blood, the noblest need.

With honor do the dreadful deed?

'Tis evil killing men in war.

Reduce their dreams to pain and gore,

But worse to suffer evil kings

To make free men their underlings.

They truly live, thus they are free

Who know their immortality;

The soul abides, its sacred light

Shines on through death forever bright

Brave warriors neither fear nor mourn:

The blessed flame is never born,

Within its blaze all living lies,

It always is and never dies.

No sword nor axe nor lance nor mace

Can violate the soul's true face,

No dart can pierce nor knife nor spear,

So fight, with honor, do not fear…

I had never heard Alphanderry sing so powerfully before. His voice seemed to call down the very fire of the stars. When he had finished and put away his mandolet, Bemossed stood in deep contemplation, staring at him. And then he finally murmured to me: 'Do you really think there will be a battle, Valashu?'

'Yes,' I told him, 'I do.'

Kane's savage face gleamed in the firelight as he turned toward the east and sniffed the air. 'So, there will be — I can smell it coming, even as I can the sea.'

My senses were not so keen as his, nor were Bemossed's. But he possessed an exquisite sensitivity to life that Kane seemed to lack. He looked for Kane through the night's gloom, and he asked him, 'Are you not afraid then?'

'Have you listened to none of Alphanderry's song?' Kane replied. 'Ha, afraid! — of what, then? Death?'

'No — of living. At having to survive yet another battle.'

'Ha!' Kane growled out again. 'You might as well ask an old wolf if he fears killing and filling his belly with good meat and his blood with new life so that he can run across the snow all night and then stand howling at the