with what she had become.
Theod paused as he neared Herme, then resolutely strode close. ―Herme? Has Zared
come forth this day?‖
―Nay.‖ Herme heaved a great sigh. ―And not likely to. He spends all day in there. All
day! I cannot understand how he can bear it.‖
Theod looked at the door. For an instant uncertainty crossed his face, then it disappeared
as fast as it had come. Theod was rapidly growing out of his youthful exuberance and its
accompanying hesitancy. He had also lost much of his joy for life, but Theod supposed that was
to be expected under the present circumstances.
―We need to talk, he and you and I,‖ Theod said. ―Get him.‖
Herme stared at Theod in surprise. Despite the difference in ages the two had always
been close friends, and Theod had always treated Herme with the deference due his age and
experience, even if Theod technically outranked the Earl.
Previously, Herme had never seen this hard edge to Theod.
―Get him!‖ Theod barked, and then turned on his heel and walked to a meeting chamber
several doors down the corridor.
Herme stared, hesitated, then wiped his hand over his eyes. He suddenly felt very, very
tired. Then he leaned his weight against the door and opened it a handspan.
―Zared. Theod has urgent business.‖
―It can wait.‖ Zared‘s voice sounded hollow, and underneath it Herme could hear a
savage hissing, and then the sound of a globule of phlegm hitting a wall.
He swallowed, and then wished he hadn‘t. ―My Lord King, I think you need to speak to
Theod. Please.‖
Gods! Was he going to be reduced to begging?
But Zared came forth after a long moment, his feet shuffling, and closed the door behind
him.
Herme was glad he hadn‘t had to witness what the closed door hid.
―Where is he?‖ Zared asked. His voice sounded even hollower in the spaces of the
corridor, and his face was sunken and grey.
Herme indicated with his hand, and the two slowly walked down the corridor and into the
meeting room.
―Well?‖ Zared asked, sitting slowly down in a chair by a table. Herme sat to one side of
him, while Theod chose to stand at the end of the table. DareWing stood by a window, his arms
folded, his face lost in shadow.
―Sire,‖ Theod said, putting to one side his concern for Zared‘s appearance. It could wait.
―Sire, as you know many thousands of refugees have entered Carlon over the past two weeks,
and—‖
―Really?‖ Zared‘s face showed a faint glimmer of interest.
Theod gaped at him…hadn‘t Zared taken note of anything? Had he concerned himself
with nothing but Leagh‘s plight, when many thousands of Leaghs wandered the hills of
Tencendor, wailing and howling?
He glanced at Herme, who shrugged slightly, and continued. ―Sire, many of these
refugees are from the extreme north, Ichtar and Aldeni.‖
Zared sat forward. ―Go on.‖
―They learned to cope with the ravages of the Demons, and learned how best to travel,
and they learned how to repel the increasing swarms of crazed beasts that hunt the sane.‖
―Yes, yes, but what is so urgent?‖
―Sire, several of the groups who have arrived in the past few days have mentioned as
many as twenty thousand refugees sheltering in the mines of the Murkle Mountains.‖
Zared nodded, as if considering the information as trivial as the latest score from the
games of hoopball the street boys played. ―Yes. That would be a good place to hide, wouldn‘t
it?‖
Theod bent his head, and fought with his temper. Eventually he raised it again, and
leaned forward over the table on his hands. When he spoke, he carefully enunciated every word.
―Sire, these people need to be brought to the safety of Carlon. Someone needs to lead an
expeditionary force north to bring them to Carlon. Sire, has not Drago promised us this
Sanctuary? Would it not be best for all concerned if we had as many people sheltering in Carlon
when word arrives of its location?
―At the very least, these people cannot remain out there much longer. Food, as hope, is in
short supply, and the swarms of the maddened grow daily—you only have to look over the walls
to see that.‖
Zared blinked. He had not looked over the walls for a very long time. ―Do you want to
lead this force, Theod?‖
―Sire,‖ Theod‘s voice was very quiet now. ―Sire, my wife and two sons might be among
them.‖
Zared‘s eyes deepened with emotion. For the first time, the import of what Theod was
saying sank in. What despair and horror did those twenty thousand live through?
And Theod‘s wife? Oh gods, why hadn‘t he thought?
― I should be the one to—‖ Zared began, but Herme interrupted him.
―No, sire. You should not be the one to go. Carlon—Tencendor—needs you here, and we
can ill afford you to lead this force north for the many, many weeks it will keep you away.‖
Zared bowed his head, sighed, and gave a slight nod. Then he raised his face. ―Very well.
How many men will you need, Theod?‖
―Will you spare me the Strike Force, sire?‖
Before Zared could answer, DareWing stepped forth from the shadows. ―I will assist the
Duke, sire. The Strike Force can do more than twenty thousand ground troops can.‖
Zared‘s mouth twisted. ―I see the decision has been taken away from me, Theod. Very
well, you may go. Take two thousand men with you to complement the Strike Force.‖
―By the time we get to the northern plains of Avonsdale with as many of the thousands
that we can find,‖ Theod said, ―we will need vastly more than the Strike Force and two thousand
men to protect them. Will you ride to meet us and bring a force of some few thousands?‖
―Ah…sire?‖
They looked about, surprised. Jannymire Goldman, Master of the Guilds of Carlon, was
standing in the door.
―Sire? Sir Duke?‖ Goldman walked into the room, ignoring the looks of mild surprise on
the faces before him. ―Sir Duke? I believe I may be able to aid you.‖
―I have no room for a trading coterie, Goldman,‖ Theod said.
Goldman bit down his temper. Over the past weeks he‘d seen his beloved country
reduced to tatters, his people in disarray and, worse, the extensive network of contacts he held
across Tencendor virtually useless. But not yet dead.
―Nevertheless, my lord,‖ Goldman said, ―I assume you will have need of rapid
transport?‖
Theod stopped. ―Transport?‖
―How do you propose to reach those stranded in the north, sir Duke?‖
Theod glanced at DareWing, then back to Goldman. ―How would you propose to reach
them, Goldman?‖
―Sir Duke, there are two score merchant ships waiting in the ports of Nordmuth, Ysbadd
and Pirates Town.‖
Unnoticed, Zared lowered his face into a hand. Why hadn‘t he thought of those ships!
―You would want to sail up the Nordra?‖ Theod said. ―That would be cumbersome at
best. That many ships could not hope to navigate the Nordra safely at once, so it would take
several relays of ships, and each relay would require some two weeks for the return trip. The
men from the first two relays who had been disembarked in eastern Aldeni would be vulnerable
to attack while they waited for the rest of the force to catch up. And after all of this, you could
still only set us down ten days‘ ride away from the Murkle Mountains. It would be quicker to
walk north to the Mountains.‖
―Not the Nordra. The Andeis Sea. Straight to the Murkle Mountains.‖
Zared looked up, wondering if hope did still exist.
DareWing drew in a sharp breath. ―How long to get a force to the Murkle Mountains
from Nordmuth?‖ the Strike Leader asked.
―Six days.‖
Theod stared at Goldman, thinking it would take him at least three weeks, if not four, to
ride that far north.
―When can those ships be ready to sail?‖ he asked.
―We‘ve had them ready for weeks, sir Duke,‖ Goldman said. ―I owed it to the Acharites
to have some form of escape at hand.‖
Zared winced. ―If you find the twenty thousand,‖ he said, ―you could sail many of them
straight south for Coroleas. Carlon certainly cannot hold that many, and I profess myself rather
sick of waiting for Drago‘s Sanctuary to emerge from the grey sorceries that hang about us.
Goldman, how many could your fleet hold?‖
―Twenty thousand, sire.‖
Everyone in the room relaxed. The Andeis would be horribly treacherous this time of
year, and normally would never be considered, but better the threat of a sea storm than the
maddening dangers of the plains of Tencendor.
Zared rose. ―Good, Master Goldman. Again Achar owes you its thanks. Theod. I wish
you every last remaining speck of luck in this land of ours.‖
Theod nodded, took Zared‘s hand, then turned for the door.
―Theod.‖ Zared‘s soft voice halted him. ―Theod, I hope you find Gwendylyr and your