POLGARA THE SORCERESS BY DAVID EDDINGS

target, but more because I had to have a victory in the first major

battle to put some steel back into my dispirited subjects.

The next part of my plan was more difficult to get across to my

soldiers. My southern army was largely of Wacite descent, and a vast

rumbling of discontent – verging on open mutiny – went through my

southern forces when Malon passed the word to Halbren and the

other generals that any patrol encountering Asturians was to run

away. Running away isn’t a part of the Arendish vocabulary, I guess.

‘We’re trying to lure the Asturians into a major battle, Malon,’I explained

patiently to my friend when he passed along the objections of

Halbren and my other generals. ‘I want Carteon’s army to believe that

we’re completely demoralized and afraid of our own shadows up here in

Erat. Then, when they come across the River Camaar, they won’t expect

any real resistance. That’s when we’ll fall on them like hungry tigers. I

want their screams to reach all the way down to the bottom of whatever

rat-hole Garteon’s hiding in.’

‘Yer after hatin’ that Garteon, ain’t y’, me Lady?’

Hatred just begins to describe what I feel for him. I could cheerfully

roast him alive over a slow fire for several weeks.’

‘I’ll start carryin’ some kindlin’ wood in me pocket, yer Grace.’

‘What a dear fellow you are, Malon.’

‘I’ll be after steppin’ on th’ toes o’ yer generals down in Muros, me

Lady,’ he promised. ‘I’ll make ’em pull in their horns an’ bide their time

until th’ cursed Asturian come traipsin’ across th’ river. Then we’ll have

em fer breakfast. I’ll have t’ go down there in person t’git their attention,

so I won’t be talking’ t’ y’fer a week or so. Don’t be after worryin’ yer

head about it, me Lady. I’ll be busy layin’a trapfer Garteon’s army, don’t

y’ know.’

‘I understand perfectly, Malon.’ The fact that he so closely resembled

Killane, not only in appearance but in his manner of speech and in

his thinking, made our relationship grow very close in a surprisingly

short time. In a sense, I was just taking up where I’d left off several

centuries earlier, so there wasn’t that awkward period of what’s

called ‘getting to know each other’.

There wasn’t anything particularly original about the strategy

set in place around Muros, but the Asturians of that era weren’t

addicted to reading, and history books tend to be dry and dusty,

so I was fairly sure they wouldn’t be familiar with my tired old

ploy. Halbren and my other generals finally got my point, but the

common soldiers seemed to have a lot of trouble with it.

The Asturians grew steadily bolder as a result of our deception,

and by early autumn Carteon’s army was massing along the south

bank of the River Camaar. Father’s continued snooping made it

totally impossible for me to personally direct the counterattack I’d

been planning, so General Halbren would be on his own. Halbren

was certainly up to the task, but that didn’t keep me from going

back to my childhood habit of biting my fingernails. A thousand

what if’s’ kept me from sleeping very soundly.

There was one thing I could take care of, however. I instructed

Malon to gather as many leaders of the Wacite resistance as he could

find among the trees in the ruins of a village about half-way between

Vo Wacune and the River Camaar on a certain night so that I could

talk with them.

I evaded my father that evening, went falcon and flew on down

to the appointed meeting place. The Asturians had burned the

village, so about all that was left of it were heaps of charred timbers

and tumbled stone walls. It was a moonless night, and the

surrounding forest pressed in on the ruins ominously. I could sense the

presence of a fair number of men, but they cautiously evaded me

as I walked through the ruins toward what had been the village

square where Malon was in the middle of a ragged-looking group

of armed men. ‘Ah, there y’ are, yer Grace,’ he greeted me.

He introduced me to a motley collection of Wacite patriots. Some

were noblemen, several of whom I recognized from happier days.

Others were serfs or village tradesmen, and I’m fairly sure that there

was also a sprinkling of bandit chiefs in the group as well. As I

understood it, each of these men commanded a band of what the

Asturians called ‘outlaws’, men who entertained themselves by

ambushing Asturian patrols.

‘Gentlemen,’ I addressed them, ‘I’m a bit pressed for time here,

so I’ll have to be brief. The Asturians are going to invade my duchy

before long. They’ll probably strike across the River Camaar to lay

siege to Muros. They won’t expect any trouble because they think

my army’s made up of cowards.’

‘We’ve heard about that, yer ladyship,’ a burly serf named Beln

interjected. ‘We found it very hard t’ believe, don’t y’ know. We’ve

all got kinsmen up around Muros, an’ they’ve never bin noted fer

timidity.’

This was why I’d arranged this meeting. These Wacite leaders

had to know that the seeming cowardice of my army was strategic.

‘I ordered ’em t’ be chicken-hearted, me Boy-o,’ I replied in his own

dialect. ‘I was after settin’ a trap fer th’ Asturians, don’t y’ know.

‘Y’ kin take it from me, Laddybuck, me army’ll shed its feathers

.when th’ time comes.’

No, my use of his dialect was not a way of making fun of it. I

was quite deliberately breaking down certain barriers that existed

between the social classes. I wanted the Wacite resistance to be a

cohesive fighting force, and that necessitated the abandonment of

some ancient bad habits.

Beln looked around at his friends with a broad smirk on his

face. ‘Ain’t she th’ darlin’ girl, though?’he said to

‘It jist fills me heart wi joy t’ hear y’ say so, Beln,’ I said. ‘Now,

then, after the battle on the plains of Muros – which I am going to

win, by the way – the Asturians are going to be totally demoralized,

and they’ll come fleeing back across the River Camaar in total

disarray. That’s where you gentlemen come in. Don’t interfere with

them when they go north across the river,’but when they try to

come back, feel free to settle old scores. To put it bluntly, there are

going to be two battles that day. I’ll beat the Asturians out on the

plains, and you’ll beat them again down here in the forest when

they try to run away from me.’

They cheered at that.

‘Oh, one other thing,,’ I added. ‘After their double drubbing, the

Asturians are going to be so totally demoralized that they won’t be

paying much attention to any ordinary groups of people moving

around down here. I’m sure you all have loved ones you’d like to

get to safety, and there are others as well who’d rather not live

under the Asturian yoke. Let it be known that they’ll all be welcome

in Muros. I’ll see to it that they have places to live and food to eat.’

‘Will that not strain thy resources, your Grace?’ the blond young

Baron Athan, whom I’d met several times in Vo Wacune, asked me.

‘I’ll manage, my Lord,’ I assured him. ‘I’ve been making

preparations for the care of Wacite refugees since the fall of Vo Wacune.’

I spoke to them all again. ‘I know that most of you would rather

stay here and fight, but get your women, children, and old people

to safety. Don’t leave innocents here to be taken hostage by the

Asturians.’

‘Thy point is well-taken, your Grace,’ Athan approved-. Then he

said, In passing, my Lady, I must needs have a word with thee at

the conclusion of our meeting here.’

‘Of course, Baron.’ Then I looked around at the other patriots.

advise moving the refugees up to the river in small groups,

gentlemen. Establish safe routes through the forest and send a dozen or

so people up those trails each time. I’ll make sure there are boats

,Waiting to ferry them across to safety.’

We discussed the details of my proposed mass emigration for

about a half hour or so, and then most of the patriots faded back

into the woods. Baron Athan remained behind. ‘I have a most

sorrowful duty to perform, your Grace,’ he told me. ‘I must regretfully

advise thee that Baron Ontrose, thy champion, died during the siege

of vo Wacune.’

My heart froze within me. In spite of everything, I’d still clung

to some small vestiges of hope that my beloved had survived.

II was with him when he died, your Grace,’ Athan continued. ‘It

had been mine intent to sponge the stain of Baron Lathan’s treason

from off our family honor by giving mine own life in the defense

of Vo Wacune, for indeed, the scoundrel Lathan was a distant cousin

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