IV
Something woke Urikh in the early hours of the morning. He guessed it to be during Gravewatch. He glanced across the bed to see his wife, Neerlima, still asleep. He slipped out from under the blankets and padded barefoot to the archway and into the adjoining room. He peered into the darkness at Luissa in her small bed, nothing more than a splay of dark curls against a white pillow. He watched for a moment but his daughter did not stir, as sound asleep as her mother.
As he turned back to his bed, Urikh realised what seemed amiss. He could smell a hint of smoke in the air, as if one of the servants had improperly put out a cooking fire. Urikh could not understand why he would notice such a thing at this time of the morning. As he was about to slip back under the covers, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and looked towards the windows. Between the slats of the shutters he saw a flickering.
Filled with sudden foreboding, he dashed across the room and flung open the shutters. He looked towards the harbour and saw smoke rising from flames aboard three ships, slowly drifting towards he docks. He recognised them as ships Jutaar had mounted with legion lamps, now ablaze from stem to stern.
Others had seen them too and bells rang and gongs were struck in warning, but there was nothing that could be done. Urikh heard Neerlima stirring behind him, asking what he was doing, but he was fixed on the scene unfolding in the harbour.
The burning ships crashed into the docks, the sea wind fanning the flames onto the canvas and timbers, the barrels of pitch and oil, and soon the fires were spreading from hotward along the crescent of the bay, growing in strength. That same wind brought smoke gusting over Askhira, stinging Urikh's eyes; but there had been tears in them already as he realised how many ships they would lose. It seemed as if they hadn't found all of the Brotherhood's agents and saboteurs after all. He would have to write to his father.
'Fuck,' he muttered, lowering his head into his hands, unable to look any more.
Narun, Nalanor
Late Summer, 210th Year of Askh
I
The reports from the scouts had been confirmed: Nemtun's army had left the Wall and was advancing on Narun. After a season content to guard against attack, no doubt having celebrated the new year in comfort, the king's brother had decided to take the offensive. Donar gathered his second captains in the headquarters he had made in an old municipal building. Third captains bustled around the room, gathering maps of the area between Narun and the Wall, collating the disparate reports of Nemtun's army and its progress.
'Stand or retreat, that is the simple question,' the First Captain of the Fifth told his subordinates, fists on hips. 'We have one legion and a few auxiliaries from the docks; Nemtun has four by all accounts, two of them newly raised in Askhor. They lack experience but they'll be well-equipped.'
'One legion cannot face four, no matter how fresh they are,' said Kluurs, the wrinkled, grey-haired Second Captain of the fifth company. Donar had inherited him from the previous First Captain, and considered Kluurs a dependable if uninspired officer. 'Narun has no Wall to defend.'
'We can send word to the Twelfth in Parmia and hold the camp,' suggested Arsiil. The captain of the second company was a battered man with ugly ears, a broken nose and a scar running from right cheek to chin. Like Kluurs, he had been with the Fifth when it had been under Nemtun's command and knew the king's brother well. Arsiil waved a hand towards the narrow window. 'Let Nemtun have the city; he can't do anything with it with us still on his doorstep.'
'It'd take four days at least for a runner to reach Jutiil, and six or seven for the Twelfth to reach us, even if they could leave immediately,' said Donar. He looked at the maps spread on the table between them. 'Nemtun could storm the camp in ten days, no problem. Is there nowhere else we could defend?'
'I have an idea,' said Lutaan, captain of the first company and Donar's nephew. He pulled a map to the top of the pile and turned it towards Donar. 'Let's not think about defending Narun, let's think about attacking Nemtun.'
'Open battle against four to one?' Arsiil laughed scornfully. 'General Ullsaard will thank none of us for throwing ourselves onto the enemy's spears for no cause. We need every shield and spear for the attack on Askhor.'
'The general will thank us less for giving up the Greenwater without a fight,' said Donar. 'From Narun, Nemtun can send ships hotwards to Paalun and then retake Geria. The Tenth will be cut off in Maasra and easy to pick off. I don't even know where the general and the Thirteenth are, they could be horribly caught out. We can't allow that to happen. Lutaan, what are you suggesting?'
'Here, at Pallion, the road passes through high hills,' said Lutaan, pointing to the defile on the map. 'We ambush Nemtun's column there, before withdrawing coldwards and crossing back over the Greenwater at Denerii Ford.'
'Nemtun's not an idiot,' argued Arsiil. 'He'll be treating everywhere outside the Wall as hostile territory. You think we could just sneak up on the man that blazed across Anrair? He'll have a picket out and he'll be doubly wary going through Pallion.'
'We'll give him cause to relax,' said Donar, liking his nephew's plan more with each passing moment. There was no hope of stopping Nemtun, but at least a short offensive would be something better to take to Ullsaard than a hasty retreat. 'We'll make it look like we've burnt the ships, as we would if we were retreating. Nemtun's an arrogant arse, and he knows we can't hold Narun against him. No doubt the king's agents know the legions are spread all over keeping everything under control. Yes, I'm damn sure Nemtun isn't looking for a fight, but he knows if he can take Narun it'll be hard to claim it back before the winter.'
'Why don't we just burn the ships and retreat?' asked Nimruun, the captain of the third company. The slight, fair-haired man looked up from a sheaf of scouts' reports. 'Geria is safe if Nemtun has no ships to sail downriver. It'll take him a while to get enough vessels together, by which time we can join with the Tenth in Paalun and wait for him.'
Donar was about to argue with this course of action, but stopped himself. Was he just looking to keep his pride with the general, or was there actually a military reason for risking an attack on Nemtun?'
Before he could answer, Lutaan spoke.
'Why not send what ships we can down to Paalun before attacking Nemtun?' said the captain. 'That way, we give the old fucker a bloody nose, withdraw with the legion intact and stop him getting anything useful out of Narun.'
Donar looked at his officers, waiting for further criticisms. None were forthcoming, though Arsiil's brow was furrowed, trying to come up with one.
'Those will be my orders,' Donar announced. 'We have to move quickly. We need to be at Pallion by midday tomorrow to be sure of getting there before Nemtun. Pass the word to the ships' captains to set sail tonight; tell them that any of them left in the harbour at dawn will have their ship seized and destroyed, that'll get their arses moving. We'll use the camp materials for our fake fires.'
'Double sentries on the roads as well,' said Nimruun. Donar's look was questioning so the captain continued. 'Obviously Nemtun has one or more spies still in the city, otherwise he wouldn't know we're ripe for attacking. All it'll take is one of them to catch a sniff of what we're doing and get to his army and we'll be walking into a trap, not the other way round.'
Donar nodded and the second captains saluted before departing. The commander of the Fifth walked up the stairs to the second storey of the building and passed through the upper rooms, where former offices and harbour archives had been turned into storerooms and dormitories. Striding between the bunks in one room, he came to a
