pyre. Chonjara would not deny him that much.
Over the next few days, while working on his grace notes, Lord Alagrace set aside time to practise with his sword. He did not want to disgrace himself in combat, and so made the effort necessary to perfect his long-standing mastery of technique and timing. He knew Chonjara's daring, skill and reckless strength would overwhelm him: nevertheless, the fight would not be easy for the conqueror. Perhaps Chonjara would carry away a few scars from the battle.
Practising, meditating, dreaming and waiting, Lord Alagrace found the words for his grace notes:
All this I yield: Earth and sky.
My bones lean down to join my shadow. Breathing out to join the greater air, I let my heart withdraw its labour, And fix my eyes on horizons far receding.
With the words done, Lord Alagrace had a piece of timber prepared, and inscribed the words on the same in letters large enough for his ageing eyesight to read.
Now he was ready. But still Chonjara did not return. Meanwhile, patrols were bringing back increasing evidence of Melski activity in the area. For the Melski, destroying the intruders obviously took precedence over the traditions which should have prevented them from entering the Valley of Forgotten Dreams. When two patrols failed to return, Lord Alagrace sent out no further scouting parties. He began to be aware that his position was somewhat tenuous.
At Nightcaps, there were a mere two hundred men – not very many considering the strength the Melski nation could muster. Chonjara was known to have another two hundred men with him, somewhere upstream, in the north. Another seven hundred or so men were back at Lake Armansis, camping where the pirates had once built their fort. The rest of the army was still maintaining the siege of Castle Vaunting – unless it had been destroyed by wizards in the interim.
Lord Alagrace called the men together and suggested that they withdraw to Lake Armansis, pointing out the danger the Melski posed. The response of the meeting was that reinforcements should be called up from Lake Armansis, and they should all then push north in an effort to find Chonjara, who might possiblv have been taken prisoner by the Melski.
Lord Alagrace pointed out that any group taking a message south would have to be strong to survive the Melski danger, which was steadily increasing. By splitting their forces they would be increasing the danger of attack. The meeting finally decided that they would all wait at Nightcaps for another five days, then go south as a body to get reinforcements for a drive up the Valley of Forgotten Dreams.
The pirate Draven was in no hurry to go anywhere. He was comfortable where he was. The woman Jalamex had yielded to him once again, and he trusted that no harm would come to him while he was under the command of Lord Alagrace.
However, the pirate Mellicks did not share such trust, and did not think the five-day wait at Nightcaps would be wise. Confident of his ability to find his way downriver by night – his new eyes gave him amazing night vision – he slipped away by himself one evening. Nobody troubled themselves much over his disappearance.
Mellicks never made it south to Lake Armansis. He evaded one Collosnon party that was heading north, but later blundered into another – and found himself answering to a very formidable interrogator indeed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Two men were fighting.
Bored by dull days spent camped by the river, other men gathered round to urge them on, to shout, to cheer and lay bets on the outcome. Disturbed by the noise, Lord Alagrace came out of his tent, and saw immediately what was happening.
His first thought was of Yen Olass Ampadara. Guessing that she would escape if given the chance, he had assigned men to keep watch over her by day and by night. She might be no good to him as an oracle, but she might have her value if the army renewed its call for the death of a dralkosh…
Looking around, at first Lord Alagrace could not see Yen Olass anywhere. Then he caught sight of her. She was right in the middle of the crowd, shouting and laughing – and making a bet with someone.
Lord Alagrace pushed his way into the crowd and stood over the two bruised and bloody men, who were now wrestling on the ground, each seeking a stranglehold.
'Cut!' bellowed Lord Alagrace.
The two men took no notice.
'You!' said Lord Alagrace, pointing. 'And you! Pull them apart!’
For this task, he had nominated two of the most sober and disciplined of the common soldiers. This was one of the tricks of command he had learnt over the years. Even in an unruly mob, there are usually a few who will obey, and when these accept commands the others will often follow.
The two fighters were dragged apart, panting and bleeding. They were not seriously damaged. The crowd did not disperse: they were interested to see what would happen now.
'Since you've got so much spare energy to burn,' said Lord Alagrace, 'There's an experiment I want to carry out.’
He pointed south. There, the narrow, swift-running surge of the river widened to a shallow flurry of foam as it leapt between boulders.
'Down there,' said Lord Alagrace, 'in the middle of those rapids, there's a female stone about so big. Her name is Gwenalyn. Go and get her for me. Now! Come on, come on, move yourselves! You should be back by now!’
The two men raced away, dodging round the occasional tree as they sprinted down the riverbank. They waded out into the rapids, slipped, fell, went over, recovered themselves, got hold of a stone 'about so big', manhandled it toward the shore, dropped it, plunged into the water to recover it, then laboured it back to the campsite.
Panting, shuddering, dripping wet, they dropped the stone down in front of their audience. By now, everyone else was taking their ease, some squatting down, others sitting on boulders or tree stumps.
Lord Alagrace got to his feet, stepped forward and nudged the stone with the toe of his boot.
'This isn't Gwenalyn!' said Lord Alagrace. 'This is Nagala. Don't you know the difference between a girl stone and a boy stone?’
'So what's the difference?' said the more reckless of the two miscreants.
'If you don't know the difference between a boy and a girl by now, it's a bit late for me to be teaching you,' said Lord Alagrace. 'All I can say is, it must make for some interesting nights.’
This quip raised lazy laughter from his audience. Lord Alagrace sent his two fighters back to the rapids to get him the girl stone Gwenalyn. When they came back, lugging the stone along between them, they were clearly exhausted.
'That's Gwenalyn all right,' said Lord Alagrace, stroking the stone, a fond smile on his face. 'Isn't she smooth and silky? And only eleven years old! Well, boys, I had a really interesting experiment in mind, but you both look too shagged out to help me with it. So put these children back in the river where they came from. No, you don't have to go back to the rapids – just put them in there, they'll make their own way home. Not like that! You're grown men, you can lift a child without any help, surely.’
The stones went back into the river, the spectators dispersed, and the two exhausted men went to dry themselves off in front of a fire. Lord Alagrace was left to ponder the deficiencies of his own leadership. Even though his troops refused to withdraw from Nightcaps, they had not thrown up their own leader to replace him; the responsibilities of day-to-day management were still his. However, he had spent his time in his tent, producing variant versions of his death song, and dreaming back to days gone by. Waiting for his death.
But perhaps he was not going to die, at least not this year. Perhaps Chonjara was irretrievably lost in the depths of Penvash. Perhaps he was dead – and if so, it was unlikely anyone else would challenge Lord Alagrace for control of the army.
Lord Alagrace knew he should get a grip on his people now, and restore discipline. They should work hard,
