Sinner by Sara Douglass. Book One of The Wayfarer Redemption

“Are you sure…?” Leagh asked as the surgeon bound Zared’s side tightly.

He shrugged. “One can never tell with wounds of this type. But if he’s survived the past few hours, and there appears to be no serious internal bleeding – although the blood he’s lost externally will seriously weaken him – well… I make no promises, but if I were you I’d place no orders for widow’s weeds, either.”

Leagh thanked him, then shot a furious look at Caelum and at Askam, who’d walked into the tent while Zared’s wound was being stitched.

The surgeon packed up his pouch and left, to Zared’s murmured thanks.

There was a small silence, then Caelum sat down in his chair, and looked at Askam and Zared.

“This stupidity has gone far enough,” he said. “I am sickened by the death and by the futility. Tencendor now faces annihilation through the Star Gate, and yet my two most senior princes fight over taxes and petty circlets of power. I have had enough!”

He took a deep breath. “You two will put these problems behind you. ,’ need you, Tencendor needs you -both of you – to face the Demons who threaten through the Star Gate. Do you understand me?”

His furious eyes swept the tent. Zared, and then Askam, nodded.

“Your differences are laughable compared to what the entire realm faces. Zared, are you prepared to accept my command? I need a united force against these Demons. Zared,” Caelum’s voice softened, “only one man can command.”

“I need reassurances,” Zared said weakly. He cleared his throat, then went on in a stronger voice. “I need to know that you are prepared to sit down and discuss not only my grievances, but the grievances of the Acharites as a whole.”

“And what of my grievances?” Askam said, stepping forward. “What of this?” He flapped his empty sleeve. “What of my palace and my rights and my castle and my lands that have been usurped? Caelum, I demand this man’s head!”

“No! “Leagh cried.

“Whore!” Askam hissed, and she recoiled.

“If she has betrayed you, then it was through my trickery,” Zared said quietly. “Take your venom out on me, Askam, not your sister.”

Leagh shot him a grateful look, but he still refused to meet her eyes, and her face fell.

“Enough!” Caelum barked. “Zared, I am prepared to sit down and discuss all grievances, but only after we have defeated the Demons.”

“And Theod and Herme,” Zared said. “What of them? And my other commanders? Caelum, they have only followed my orders. Again, I say to you what I just said to Askam. Take your venom out on me, not them.”

“And will they follow my orders?” Caelum asked.

“If I ask them,” Zared said quietly, meeting Caelum’s eyes.

Caelum’s jaw tightened. If Zared asked them. Well, it was enough. He nodded.

“When this is all over,” he said, “when we have won against these Demons, then perchance we will have time and energy for these petty quarrels. But not now, not now. Do you understand me?”

Grudgingly, and staring at each other, Zared and Askam nodded.

“Good,” Caelum said. “Then I expect all of you to work under my command. Tomorrow you ride for the Ancient Barrows.”

Towards the Star Gate They left at dawn the next day. Both commands, now uneasily united, had endured forced marches in preceding days that had driven most men and horses near to exhaustion. Now again they marched. They had no choice.

If Zared had been fully fit, keeping the peace might have been an impossible task. But he was so weak, and still in so much pain, that he quietly accepted what Caelum said and passed on the orders to his command.

His own command was not quite so compliant. Indeed, it was hard reconciling two forces of over ten thousand each to the fact that if on one day they had fought as foes, the next they had to march as comrades. Caelum had little choice save to keep the two forces apart as much as possible. That meant that Zared’s men led the column, the Strike Force wheeling overhead lest they decide on some mischief, while Caelum’s ground forces and the Norsmen marched behind.

Caelum had briefly toyed with the idea of having Zared’s force march behind his. Briefly. He hoped he could trust the man; in fact, he was sure that he could. But Zared’s thousands were a little too volatile for his liking, and he far preferred to have them before him than behind him.

They’d pulled out taking only the minimum necessary for survival. Tents, spare supplies and blankets were left in sad piles on the western Arcness plains. Men could sleep wrapped in saddle blankets, the Icarü in their wings. All could survive on two simple meals a day for the time it would take them to reach the Barrows.

It is Gorgrael all over again, Caelum thought, remembering back to his infancy and the battles against the Destroyer’s forces. Again as the winter snows threaten we march to a war.

It seemed as if the forty years of peace had never been. Zared sat on his horse at the head of his army. It meant that he proved the point at which the easterly wind broke its force, but that wind also somehow kept him in his saddle. He was still in some pain, but not so weak as he had been. The surgeon had given him wads of stringy vegetable matter, impregnated with drugs, to chew, and they both helped to dull the pain and give him strength. Slightly behind him, astride the bay mare she’d taken from the palace stables, rode his wife.

All Leagh wanted to do was take Zared in her arms and rock and soothe him, but how could she do that in front of twenty thousand men? And Zared would not allow it anyway.

His stiff back was punishment enough for her naive stupidity.

She should have ridden to her husband instead. Then at least the Norsmen may have had no warning. Then at least a birdman would not have dropped from the sky to plunge his dagger into her husband’s body.

“I will not leave you now,” she whispered, and the wind snatched her words away. “Not ever again.”

The column marched on.

They marched through the day until the evening air had settled and cooled about them. Then Caelum sent word to the front that they were to halt and settle as best they could among the grasses and gorse bushes of the Arcness plains.

Gustus rushed forward to help Zared from his horse, reaching him before Leagh had a chance to dismount herself. When she reached Zared, she saw that his clothes were stained with pink discharge and that his eyes were bright with fever.

She said nothing, but she cleaned his wound, rebound it, made him eat and drink something, and only opened her mouth to protest when he rose.

“I must speak with my commanders,” he said roughly, and left her alone by their horses and the piles of tack.

She blinked back tears, wrapped herself as best she could in a saddle blanket, and waited.

They rode for the next five days. Due east, then angling south-east. Dawn to dusk. Nothing for it but to follow the man in front, and to hope that he knew where he went.

At night, when men still found time from their tiredness to talk, they wondered.

On the sixth night out, Zared stood talking quietly with Herme, Theod, Gustus and Killingrew.

“Sire,” Killingrew said, “the men want to know what they march to meet.” None of Zared’s command had ceased to call him sire. Caelum was angry about it, but he could not stop the freedom of men’s mouths.

Damn Caelum, Zared thought, for not telling them. The problem of the Demons was to be kept a SunSoar mystery, apparently. At the least, it was to be kept from the human races. The Icarü knew, and apparently so did the Avar, but Caelum expected the Acharites to march to what might well be their deaths with no knowledge of why.

And what could men do against Demons? And Demons such as these? Zared wondered at the benefits of marching the only army in Tencendor straight into the jaws of interstellar Demons.

Zared grew more disturbed by the minute. He looked at Killingrew. “Do you know what we march to meet, Killingrew?”

Killingrew looked at Herme, then nodded unhappily. “Aye, sire. Most of the commanders do.” “And what is your advice then?”

Killingrew took a deep breath. “Sire, the men need to be told.”

“I agree. I do not like this forced march into obvious horror without telling them.” Zared stepped back so he could the more easily look about the camp. His wound had healed over well the past few days, although it plainly still troubled him.

“Look,” he said. “Men mutter about their camp fires. Do they discuss their wives and sweethearts back home? No, I think not. Dammit, Caelum is going to have more than Demons to worry about if he doesn’t rectify the situation.”

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