‘I wish to stand down,’ said Korrin Talis.
‘So be it. How many here wish to vote for Bael Jace?’
‘Wait!’ said Kaelin Ring, once more rising to his feet. ‘I have already said that it is my intention to travel south and fight the enemy. If Bael will agree to the Rigante’s entering this war then I withdraw also. If not I stand.’
Bael looked at Kaelin in surprise, then switched his gaze to Arik Ironlatch. ‘What say you, Bael Jace?’ asked Arik.
Bael took a deep breath, and scanned the group. He knew the men who had voted for him, and those who had voted for Kaelin. The question was: how many votes could he expect from the remaining six who had wished to see either Korrin or Arik lead the clan? Potter Highstone would have been one who voted for Korrin. The other would have been Korrin himself. Both these votes should come to me, thought Bael, though Potter had always spoken highly of Kaelin Ring. Damn, but there was no way to know! The likelihood was that Bael’s destiny would be decided by a casting vote. Bael met Kaelin’s steady gaze. His expression was unreadable.
Bael had two choices: take the risk that he had enough votes, or accept the leadership with the understanding that the Rigante would go to war.
Like his father before him Bael Jace was a pragmatist. Rising from his seat he moved to stand beside the Leader’s Chair. ‘I accept Kaelin Ring’s terms. And since there are no other candidates I take my father’s seat.’ Pulling back the chair he sat down. ‘And, before we talk of the war coming to Eldacre, would someone fetch Rayster. His wisdom will be needed here.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
HAVING CHECKED ON THE SENTRIES MULGRAVE SAT QUIETLY BY THE camp fire. Around him some of the men were sleeping, others sitting in small groups, speaking in hushed voices. Gaise Macon had wandered away into the woods alone. Mulgrave was glad of this, for he did not wish to talk to him at the moment. He would not know what to say.
After the battle at Shelding Gaise had led the survivors east and then north, bypassing the enemy’s artillery force. They had made good progress, despite the fact that more than forty of the men were wounded. Three had died on the journey so far. It was likely several more would succumb.
Gaise had sent outriders to scout ahead. One of these had returned on the second day of travel with news of a small column of musketeers, with some fifty cavalry, moving to the north-east. Gaise had made no attempt to avoid them. As soon as the report was received he took two hundred men and rode at speed to intercept. The fight had been brief and bloody. Gaise outmanoeuvred the cavalry and led a lightning charge against the startled musketeers. They managed one ragged volley before the Eldacre men tore into them. They were cut to pieces. Many tried to surrender, but Gaise had ordered that no prisoners be taken, and they were killed where they stood, most of them with hands raised.
Then Gaise had turned his attention to the cavalry. They sought to flee, and rode straight into the ambush Gaise had laid. Taybard Jaekel, Jakon Gallowglass, and fifty other musketeers concentrated their fire on the horsemen. The fight was over in a matter of minutes. One officer was taken alive, a young man, tall and well featured. He was in the custody of Lanfer Gosten.
Gaise rode up, Mulgrave alongside him. ‘We caught this one, sir,’ said Lanfer.
‘Was there something about my order that you did not understand, Gosten?’ asked Gaise Macon coldly.
‘Sir?’
‘I said no prisoners.’
‘Yes, sir, but . . .’
Gaise Macon drew a pistol from the scabbard on his saddle and cocked it. The young officer saw the move. He made as if to speak. The pistol came up and the shot boomed in the morning air. The officer staggered back, his face a mask of blood, then toppled to the earth.
‘Move among the bodies,’ said Gaise Macon, as coldly as before. ‘Strip them of all that could prove useful. Be prepared to move on within the hour.’ Swinging his horse he rode away from the stunned men. Mulgrave did not follow him.