CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

In the spring of the year Celadric 4, when Monogail was three years old and a bit, the Rovac came north to Lake Armansis. There were three hundred of them, the ragged remnant of a rearguard which had fought the Collosnon forces while covering the retreat of the Rovac armies down the Hollern River to ships waiting to take them to the Lesser Teeth.

The rearguard reached Lake Armansis, unopposed by the Melski, who had granted them safe conduct, knowing their real quarrel would be with the Collosnon thousands following on behind.

After the death of his father, the Lord Emperor Khmar, the cool and elegant Celadric had contemplated murdering his brothers, but had finally decided to let them kill each other. So he had appointed them joint commanders of an army of invasion, believing such shared responsibility would lead to murder.

Eager to win power and glory, the brothers had come south. Meddon, the seasoned warrior, slaughterhouse comrades at his side. Exedrist, a lame-brained semi-invalid dominated by those two notorious generals, Chonjara and Saquarius. York, the brawler, the thug, travelling with his personal bodyguard of axeblade executioners, torturers and professional rapists. The stage was set for a vicious three-way power struggle.

But, to begin with, the brothers fought the enemy rather than each other.

At the time of the invasion, Rovac seapower had been concentrated on the western coast, contending with the Orfus pirates of the Greater Teeth. Most Rovac landpower had been in the south of Estar, commanding the hills and mountains against the monsters of the Swarms now trying to force a way into Estar.

With the enemy thus dispersed, the Collosnon had struck, and conquered. The survivors of the Rovac rearguard now at Armansis planned to turn west to cross the Razorwind Pass to Larbster Bay, hoping to be picked up by their own sea patrols. The long-standing ancestral dream of Rovac, which was to conquer all of Argan, was at an end.

The Melski still maintained their trading post at Lake Armansis, even though the invasion of the Swarms had halted the passage of the Galish convoys, which were now denied a road south to the rich markets of the Harvest Plains and the Rice Empire. Those great powers, in turn, had ceased to be. So the trading post waited, in case conditions changed, though nobody could see how that was possible. By now the Swarms were no longer shadows and rumours, but were known by name. Worst were the Neversh, the flying double-spike monsters.

Outnumbered and just barely tolerated by the Melski, the Rovac were constrained to respect the trading post and the nearby human community (still only four-strong). Even so, a small group of them got drunk and made trouble. First they murdered Pelaki. They slashed the pig's throat, strung their victim up by the heels to bleed to death, then cooked and ate the meat. After this outrageous act of terrorism, they decided to start on the women; by the time Morgan Hearst arrived on the scene, Yen Olass had disabled three of his braves, and the heroes had retreated so they could plan how best to burn down House Two.

Hearst restored discipline, then interviewed the two women. The Melski had told him only that they were under Melski protection. Hearst could not think why two women with young children would be living with the Melski, so he was entirely prepared for them to be lepers or lunatics, or worse.

To his great surprise, he found he recognized one of them. He had long ago forgotten her name, but still remembered her face. She had been Alish's bedpartner during the days long ago, when a prince by the name of Meryl Comedo had ruler Estar, and Hearst and Alish had fought side by side in the same battles.

'What brings you here?' said Resbit, who knew Hearst well, having seen him often enough around Lorford.

'I'm here to apologize for the behaviour of my men,' said Hearst, studying the two shy children who hid in the shadows, and the formidable black-haired woman who stood to one side, leaning on an axe and watching him intently.

'We don't need apologies,' said the black-haired woman. 'All we need is to be left alone.’

'Who are you?' said Hearst, surprised at her hostility.

'She's Yen Olass,' said Resbit. 'I'm Resbit.’

'I know you are,' said Hearst, doing her the courtesy of pretending he had remembered her name. 'I've seen you in Lorford in the… in the old days…’

'When Elkor Alish was still alive.’

'Yes. You've heard…?’

'The deeds of Hastsword Hearst are famous,' said Resbit, with a touch of bitterness. 'Even here.’

'I'm sorry,' said Hearst. 'Still, that's in the past. As for the future, you're under my protection.’

'What future is that?' said Yen Olass.

Again Hearst was surprised.

'I thought you were free to leave,' he said. 'The Melski told me they weren't holding you here in slavery.’

'We're free to do as we wish,' said Yen Olass. 'So get out.’

Hearst hesitated. He had killed Elkor Alish – but that was a tragedy, caused by a misunderstanding. Resbit was his last link with a man who had been his valued comrade for many years, who…

'What are you waiting for?' said Yen Olass.

'I mean you no harm,' said Hearst. 'Is there anything you need? For yourselves? For your children? Are they twins, the little ones?’

The children, still shy as mice, were half-hidden in the shadows. Both of them had black hair. Resbit was a brunette, so it was not surprising that Hearst thought they both belonged to Yen Olass, who, after all, seemed more likely to be the mother because of her protective attitude to her territory… and who certainly had good, wide, child-bearing thighs.

'Of course they're not twins,' said Resbit. 'The girl is hers. Elkordansk is mine.’

'Elkordansk?’

'That's the name he chose,' said Resbit, 'before he went away.’

'I see,' said Hearst.

'He does see,' said Yen Olass. 'He's killed the man, now he's going to kill the child.’

'There'll be no killing here,' said Hearst. 'Alish was my friend once. And this…’

Hearst looked around the interior of House Two. Blackened by more than three years of smoking fires, it looked small and dark and dirty.

'… this is no place for his son.’

'We've done our best,' said Resbit.

'Yes,' said Hearst, 'but on the Lesser Teeth you could have a proper house. Not a hovel like this. Besides, the boy needs companions. How old is he? He must be… at least three years old by now.’

'At least that,' said Resbit, beaming.

Yen Olass stepped forward, and wiped her hand over Hearst's mouth.

'Look,' she said, holding up her hand. 'See? Blood. This is a warrior: a monster who eats people.’

There was no blood on her hand.

'Yen Olass,' said Resbit. 'Don't be silly.’

'What kind of hospitality is this?' said Hearst, rubbing his mouth.

'You're not our guest,' said Yen Olass. 'You're an invader.’

'Yes,' said Hearst, with his temper starting to rise. 'An invader. And why? Because there's an army at. my heels. Do you think you can go on living here in dreamland? Sit down, and listen!’

He shoved Yen Olass, hard, intending that she should go down to the floor. But Yen Olass was heavier than he had thought. She went back half a step, recovered her balance and slugged him, smashing her fist into his solar plexus with all the force she could muster. The next moment she was clutching her hand in silent agony, struggling to keep from crying out.

'Chain mail,' said Hearst, patting his green-brown linen jacket. 'I'm a creature with three skins – wool, steel and linen.’

'Why,' said Yen Olass, mastering her pain, 'are you wearing armour here?' 'In case of attack.’

'The Melski would tell you if there was any danger.' 'The Melski might be the danger,' said Hearst. 'Besides that, there's irrational women to cope with.' 'Irrational!' said Yen Olass. And she swore at him.

'She is rather, isn't she?' said Hearst to Resbit.

And Yen Olass saw with dismay that Resbit did not contradict him, but just bowed her head slightly.

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