He paused, and rubbed his eyes. When he looked back at SpikeFeather they were rimmed with dread. “If the Grail King stirs, then so I must speak. Especially since the Maze appears to require your presence. Yes, I owe you some explanation. Please, will you help me right this table so we may sit in comfort again?”
SpikeFeather assisted him, then they sat, each silent on his side of the table.
After a while WingRidge began to speak in a quiet, even tone. “When you left us with Orr we floated only a small distance with the Ferryman before he left us to continue our own way. The boats we sat in were magically guided, and all we had to do was sit and sing to get to the Lake of Life.”
“But-”
“But someone else came to us down in the waterways, SpikeFeather, and told us of a mighty secret.”
“Who?”
Silence for a long time. Then, very quietly, “WolfStar SunSoar.”
“Ah!” SpikeFeather exclaimed. “Will this WolfStar never leave us alone?”
“He showed us a great mystery,” WingRidge said, a trifle defensively.
“He manipulated you.”
“He showed us the Maze,” WingRidge said. “And he showed us our purpose.”
“Your purpose?”
“To serve the StarSon as best we might.”
And well you show it, SpikeFeather thought, for sometimes you barely give Caelum the time of day. “Where is this Maze?”
WingRidge hesitated. “Very well. You have reason enough to know. Look,” and, pulling a piece of parchment to himself, WingRidge drew a plan with swift, dark strokes.
As the autumn thickened with clouds overhead, Zared moved on Kastaleon. He did not want to initiate a war, he did not want to evoke images and memories of invasion or treason, he only wanted to make a point. And so Zared did not invade Kastaleon with an army, or even an armed force, but with a relatively small group of men.
By the first week in Bone-Month Zared had his army stationed at a point some two leagues to the north-west of Kastaleon – a morning’s ride away. Zared was tense and worried, as were Herme and Theod. Had they managed to pass unnoticed through Aldeni, or did the captain of Kastaleon have intelligence of their movements? Would his arrival be a surprise, or quietly awaited? Zared had done his best to keep the army to uninhabited stretches of Aldeni, and Theod had spread the word among his people that the least said about any sightings of Prince Zared and a force moving south the better… but Zared well knew that a single loose tongue could mean a trap awaiting him at Kastaleon. Even a vengeful Caelum.
A vengeful Leagh was bad enough. After they’d moved away from the almost disastrous river crossing at the Azle, she’d spent days – and long nights —pleading with him to turn back to Severin. Marry me there, she’d said, rubbing her naked body against his, and we will ride out Caelum’s anger. And if there are further disputes between you, then surely Council would be the best place to reason them out.
When he’d continued to refuse to turn for home, Leagh had become angry. Again she’d accused him of lying to her, deceiving her.
“And deceiving your parents’ trust in you,” she said several nights ago, “for they believed you’d remain loyal to the Throne of the Stars.”
That had been too much, and Zared, furious, had moved his sleeping roll away from her for the rest of the night.
His fury was also tinged with guilt. What would she do when she learned that he was intent on reclaiming the Acharite throne, and on regaining the Acharites their pride? She would certainly then believe he only loved her for her inheritance. That was wrong, Zared told himself during the rest of that long, lonely night, for he did love her, and as much for her wit and charm and strength of character (which he currently cursed) as her lands.
Zared admitted to himself that part of Leagh’s appeal lay in her inheritance, and that inheritance could not possibly be divorced from his current crusade. It was naive of her to think otherwise.
But this evening, as he watched his men set up camp above Kastaleon, Zared sighed, and vowed to make peace with Leagh as soon as he could. Gods knew what would happen if she refused to marry him…
Before Zared ate his evening meal he sent fifty men to Kastaleon in groups of three or four. They were garbed as traders or itinerants, and would be able to pass unnoticed among the crowds that gathered about Kastaleon. The castle was not simply a defensive structure, but it also served as the point where Askam imposed his tariffs on the Nordra River. No vessel could slip by Kastaleon unnoticed or unchallenged. All stopped, all were inspected, all were taxed. With the trade, and just the general traffic along the roads leading to and from the grain lands of upper Tencendor, there was generally a large number of people moving past or through the castle and the settlement surrounding it; his fifty would attract no undue attention.
Zared gave them that night and the first part of the following morning. Close to noon he led a force of some five hundred men south; the bulk of the army staying behind. The intelligence Zared had received showed that Askam had about one hundred and twenty men stationed at Kastaleon. Not many. After all, this was peace time.
He glanced across at Theod, who looked excited, and Herme, who was considerably graver.
At Zared’s stare, Herme shrugged. “You have no choice, my Prince. You must demonstrate how deeply Caelum has insulted you, and how he cannot afford to ignore the issues that threaten Tencendor’s peace.”
But do ,’ threaten Tencendor’s peace by this action? Zared wondered. Will it stop at Kastaleon, or will it spread ripple-fashion throughout the entire land? But it was too late to back down now; already some fifty of his men were waiting inside Kastaleon, and they would cause mischief enough even if Zared turned for home at this very moment.
So Zared waved his men out.
They now carried the Prince of the North’s standard, and Zared himself rode at the head of the column dressed in clearly visible insignia. If he had wanted to keep his approach through Aldeni quiet, then he needed to ride into Kastaleon openly.
The captain of the watch spotted them a thousand paces from the castle. He peered through the afternoon sun, trying to catch a glimpse of the standard, then his eyes widened.
“The Prince of the North approaches,” he cried. “Form an honour guard!”
“Curse his hairy stones!” the captain muttered as he climbed down the ladders to the inner courtyard. Zared might have sent a forward scout to warn of his arrival. No doubt he would expect a full banquet and noble entertainment in the hall tonight. Well, he’d have to think again. Kastaleon hardly had the facilities to –
His thoughts were cut off by a clatter of hooves across the drawbridge. Zared, with some two hundred and fifty men, swarmed into an already crowded central courtyard.
The captain frowned. Why were they deploying so? One would think they were almost…
He snapped to attention as the Prince himself reined his horse to a halt before him.
“Welcome to Kastaleon, my Lord,” he said. “May I inquire as to the purpose of your visit?”
“Certainly,” Zared said pleasantly, dismounting and pulling the gloves from his hands as he walked the few steps between himself and the captain. “I have come to seize your castle, sirrah. Your surrender, please.”
The captain’s mouth dropped, unable to believe what he’d just heard. “But… but…”
Then training took over, and he snapped out of his fugue. “Hartley!” he shouted, turning to look for his second-in-command, “we are under -”
The hilt of Zared’s sword crashed into the back of his skull, and the captain collapsed to the pavement. The rest of the courtyard was in uproar. Men had come to their senses at the same time as the captain, and many had drawn swords and moved into defensive positions.
But it was too late, the invader was already inside!
And worse. The fifty men Zared had sent in earlier were causing chaos and distraction within the buildings, shouting false orders, seizing weapons, locking men in barracks and store rooms. The two hundred and fifty Zared had brought into the castle with him quickly subdued the soldiers within the courtyard and on the walls, while outside Kastaleon another two hundred secured the immediate riverfront, wharf and approach roads.
Kastaleon was Zared’s.
That evening he summoned the captain of Kastaleon’s guard. The captain was sullen and subdued, nursing a dreadful headache and a worse case of resentment.
“I am sending you north,” Zared said as soon as the captain stood at some sort of attention before his desk.
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