‘Council of war?’ Hyrald echoed uncertainly. ‘What’s that?’
‘Precisely what it says, a council – an assembly – to discuss the war,’ Endryk replied.
‘What war?’ The pitch of Hyrald’s voice rose further than he intended.
‘The one we’re in,’ Endryk retorted bluntly. ‘Just because there isn’t cavalry and infantry tramping the countryside doesn’t mean there’s no war going on. There is, and you need to understand that if you’re going to survive. And that’s only a start – a great many things will have to be thought about if we’re to survive. Thyrn mentioned them the other day. How to live in this place – not for a few days but for months, quite possibly into the winter. How to cope with illness and injury. How to defend ourselves against Aghrid and anyone else who comes after us. How to find out what’s happening back in Arvenshelm if you want to return there. And, not least, how to do something about it.’
His words hung uncomfortably in the dull, damp air as they walked along. No one spoke for some time.
‘It’s a grim list,’ Hyrald said eventually.
‘It is,’ Endryk agreed. ‘Grimmer than you know, I suspect, but unavoidable given the decision you’ve made to return – which, for what it’s worth, I think is right,’ he added hastily. ‘Given that the alternative is fruitless – a wandering exile and no guarantee you might not be pursued even into that. Still, to quote Thyrn, knowledge might be difficult to deal with, but it’s a damned sight better than ignorance and while we accept the simple fact of our position we’ll at least have a chance.’
‘We’ve managed well enough so far,’ Rhavvan said defensively.
‘Well enough, yes,’ Endryk agreed. ‘But we can’t carry on like this for much longer. That was just to keep us going day by day while you were recovering from your flight and thinking about what to do. Plus we’ve been lucky – with the weather, the terrain, even the supplies. That won’t continue. But at least the situation’s clearer now.’
‘We’ve got a vicious enemy behind us, a definite intention ahead, and a long way to travel. We need to work out in detail what we’re going to do, how we’re going to do it, and who’s going to do what.’
It was Adren. There was an edge to her voice. Endryk acknowledged her summary with a gesture that indicated he had nothing further to say.
‘Council of war it is, then.’ Hyrald smiled ruefully. ‘A planning meeting, I suppose we’d call it.’ This inadvertent reminder of times now seemingly gone for ever, brought a long fretting thought to the surface. He looked at Endryk squarely and cleared his throat. ‘Back home, these two…’ He indicated Rhavvan and Adren. ‘Are my deputies, while Nordath and Thyrn would naturally yield to the authority of any Warden. But out here I’ve no illusions about my worth. Frankly, I’m lost. You’ve been our leader since we left your cottage. Will you continue to be?’
Endryk met his gaze and answered immediately. ‘No. I appreciate what you’re saying but we can’t work like that. It’s not appropriate. We’re not a battalion with our own long-established support structure and lines of communication back to a battle centre somewhere, We’re more what would be called a deep penetration group – a small patrol sent far into enemy territory to spy on troop dispositions, supply lines and the like… completely cut off from all external help, obliged to fend for ourselves totally.’
All three Wardens were looking at him, puzzled. ‘We’re not spying on anyone or anything. And this isn’t enemy territory,’ Rhavvan said. ‘All we’re trying to do is get back home.’ He laughed tentatively but no one responded.
‘Enemy territory is precisely what it is,’ Endryk insisted. ‘All of it, from here to Arvenshelm. Adren summarized our position exactly.’
‘But what are we going to do if you won’t act as leader?’ Hyrald fretted. ‘We have to allocate responsibilities and duties… decide who does what and when.’
‘Yes, obviously,’ Endryk replied. ‘But we’ll all of us need to make a deep change to the ways we think.’ He looked at Hyrald. ‘Warden, Caddoran, shoreman – they mean nothing out here. We’re going to be totally dependent on one another. We need to know one another’s strengths and weaknesses. And we’ve each got to be able to cope without the others. We have to become such that if one of us is lost, then that’s all we lose – one – not the entire group because we were too reliant on that one person.’
‘Sounds logical,’ Hyrald commented, though the doubt in his voice said more than his words.
‘Back to basic training, I suppose.’ Adren was scarcely more enthusiastic.
‘I’m sorry,’ Endryk said.
‘It’s not your fault, is it?’ Hyrald retorted. He stopped and stood silent. No one spoke and the soft stillness of the damp day closed about the group. It was very quiet. The sound of the river, hitherto ubiquitous, was faint and distant. Even the birds and animals in the surrounding trees seemed to be waiting for something.
One of the horses stamped its foot softly then shook itself.
‘Damn Vashnar,’ Hyrald said through clenched teeth. ‘Damn him to hell.’ He set off again.
They walked for some time in silence until after a short rise they emerged from the trees to find themselves on the grassy shoulder of a hill.
‘Let’s see where we are,’ Endryk said, pointing to the crest.
Hyrald spoke to him as they continued. ‘I suppose what we’re intending to do wouldn’t be easy even if we’d been trained to it, would it?’
‘No,’ Endryk replied flatly. ‘But I don’t know that anyone could be trained for such a bizarre eventuality.’ He paused thoughtfully. ‘Yet Vashnar’s position is no stronger than ours.’
Hyrald looked at him, puzzled.
‘I hadn’t thought about that before,’ Endryk went on. ‘Apparently he has all the advantages. He’s safe in Arvenshelm with the Wardens and a mob at his back, while we’re hunted fugitives alone in the middle of nowhere.’ He paused, then nodded to himself as if reaching a conclusion. ‘But that very safety might well be preventing him from standing back and assessing what’s happening.’ He paused again. ‘If he’s capable of such an action any more. He’s a meticulous man, you say, obsessive almost?’
‘Yes,’ Hyrald confirmed. ‘I don’t know what he was like when he was younger, but even since I’ve known him, his skill as a planner – an anticipator of events – which is considerable, seems to have…’ he searched for a phrase, ‘… turned in on itself. Become self-absorbed. His plans can become very detailed – constraining. As though freedom of action unsettles him, particularly in other people.’
‘His plans are becoming more important than the goals they’re meant to achieve?’
‘I suppose so, yes. At times.’
Endryk seemed pleased with the answer. He cast a glance at Thyrn and then the others. ‘Well, it’s not much, but we’re a small group, determined, and not without resources. If we stay careful, keep our thinking flexible, the more he plans like that the better – assuming he’s still capable of thinking rationally. Like us he’s no experience with a situation as strange as this. It’ll magnify any self-doubt he has, reduce his trust in others even further. And the more rigid he makes his schemes the more we’ll be able to respond to anything he does – move around him, slip in under his guard.’
Rhavvan frowned. ‘You sound as if you’re going to attack him,’ he said.
‘Of course,’ Endryk replied. ‘One way or another you’ll have to. You’ve no choice about that.’
Rhavvan stopped and his hands came out, palms forward, in a powerful gesture of denial. ‘Whoa! That’s not what I had in mind when I agreed we should go back.’
‘What else did you have in mind?’ Endryk’s question was winding in its simplicity. Rhavvan stared at him. Hyrald and Adren watched both men uncertainly, their thoughts chiming with Rhavvan’s.
‘But we can’t just… attack him,’ Rhavvan managed uncomfortably after a moment.
‘One way or another, I said,’ Endryk replied. He tapped his forehead. ‘But you need to be thinking about defeating him all the time! Nothing less is acceptable. It’s either us or him and we can’t afford the luxury of not accepting that; it’ll eat us alive when things get rough. As far as I can see at the moment, probably the only tactic we can adopt is to run him to exhaustion… somehow. Flit here and there – crack those rigid plans of his – make him destroy the morale of his own people. But whatever we do, when he’s down – in whatever fashion that occurs -we move in.’ He made a direct stabbing motion to Rhavvan’s chest.
‘We can’tkill him,’ Rhavvan said, eyes widening.
Endryk was abruptly stern, angry almost. ‘If it comes to that extremity, you will or you’ll die yourself – there’ll be no choice, and don’t think otherwise.’ Rhavvan made to speak but Endryk gave him no opportunity. ‘But I’m not talking just about killing him. I’m talking about defeating him and the need for you not only to realize that that’s what you’re going to have to do, but to be thinking about how you’re going to do it constantly.’
Rhavvan eyed him suspiciously but did not speak. Adren took him by the arm. ‘I think we’ve just been given a cadet’s morale roust,’ she said sheepishly, looking at Endryk for confirmation. It was colder than she had anticipated.
‘I said we’ll all have to make a deep change in the way we think,’ he replied. ‘Be clear in what it is you’re trying to achieve – to get your old lives back, or as near as can be. Cling to that. Forget everything else. While you’re dithering because the details of some precious scheme are falling apart, someone might be cutting your throat.’
They were nearing the top of the hill and the grey sky was beginning to thin, frayed streaks of blue appearing. The mood of the group, however, had darkened. Hyrald addressed it and Endryk directly. ‘Well, whether you want to be leader or not, you are, for the moment. We all of us want to know who you are and why you’re here, but none of us are going to ask, are we?’ He looked at the others significantly. ‘But it’s perfectly obvious that you’ve been a soldier at some time and that you’ve got more experience of this kind of life than the rest of us put together. Equally, as you pointed out, we’re none of us without resources and experience of our own, and if you’ll teach, we’ll learn. You’re right about where we’re all going and why – we’ll remember that. I think now we should start on that grim list of yours right away.’
They had reached the top of the hill. Without comment they moved quickly over the crest before stopping. The sky was continuing to clear, but the country ahead of them, like that behind, disappeared into a soft greyness before it reached the horizon. Thyrn and Nordath took charge of the horses while the others moved back to the shelter of a cluster of rocks on the crest of the rise from where they could view the land they had been travelling over without making themselves conspicuous against the skyline.
It was not possible to see the line of the river, though occasional shining hints of it glinted through the mixture of rolling forest and open land spread before them.
North and south, no difference, Hyrald thought, reminding himself of Thyrn’s earlier remark. His reflections were interrupted by the sight of several grey columns feebly rising from the trees. All three Wardens reacted.
‘Ye gods!’ Rhavvan hissed. ‘How many people are out there following us?’
‘Don’t worry. No more than before,’ Endryk said reassuringly. ‘Those aren’t camp-fires, it’s just moisture rising from the trees.’ He pointed. ‘See how it’s dissipating – fading away vaguely. Smoke doesn’t do that. It’s denser – hangs together more. I think it’s time for us to rest a while.’
Thyrn, tongue protruding, was practicing with a makeshift sling.
‘Your grim list,’ Hyrald reminded Endryk.
‘Will you show me how to use your bow?’ Thyrn asked, turning to Endryk as he released a shot and causing some consternation as the stone went wildly awry.
‘Very soon,’ Endryk promised as he seized Thyrn’s hand to demonstrate the correct action. ‘Remember what I told you,’ he said, not unkindly. ‘You’re supposed to be a menace to your enemies, not your friends.’ He manoeuvred Thyrn a little way from the group and indicated a small rock some twenty paces distant. ‘Hit that,’ he said. Thyrn bent forward towards the rock, his eyes narrowed in disbelief. ‘Do it,’ Endryk commanded, before Thyrn could say anything.
The others sat down and relaxed.
‘He’s changed a lot,’ Adren said softly as they watched Thyrn engrossed in his practice.
‘And for the better,’ Nordath said. A look of pain passed over his face. ‘He’s a remarkable young man. It’s always distressed me to see the way he was treated by that dismal brother of mine and his wretched wife. But what can you do? It’s family, isn’t it? Not my business.’
‘Did they knock him about?’ Adren asked, as though she were making a formal Warden’s inquiry.
Nordath’s denial was unequivocal. ‘Oh no, not physically. They’re not brutes. Not like that anyway. But emotionally…’ He shook his head. ‘I’ve hardly got any memories of him as a child running, playing, laughing – getting into mischief. Just his solemn lost little face looking round at everyone. He used to play for hours with a ball I bought him – bright red it was. He’d throw it, catch it, easily, naturally. The way we do before we “grow up”.’ He pulled a sour face. ‘But it “disappeared”. As soon as his talent began to appear they kept him close, cherished him like some delicate plant – didn’t allow him contact with other children, or precious little. And all for money… or to strut in front of their friends.’ Adren winced at the bitterness and anger in Nordath’s voice. ‘But look at him now.’
It needed no great perception to see that Thyrn was enjoying himself. Nordath turned to Endryk. ‘Don’t think I haven’t noticed what you’ve been doing.’ Endryk looked like a man suddenly obliged to justify a guilty secret. Nordath laid a reassuring hand on his arm. ‘I just wanted to say thank you while I had the chance. I’d never thought to see him like this – especially after the state he was in when he ran away from Vashnar. I thought… I don’t know what I thought…’ His voice had become husky and he stopped.
Endryk returned his comforting grasp. He was about to speak when Thyrn hit the rock for the second time in succession and turned to the others, arms raised in triumph. It earned him a generous round of applause, then Endryk called out, ‘When you’re hitting it more than you’re missing it, use your left hand.’ Thyrn clenched his fist by way of accepting the challenge.
Endryk turned to the others. ‘All of you must learn to do that. And to make and use a bow. And to use a staff and sword properly. And a knife.’
Rhavvan bridled. ‘What? What in the name of sanity would we want to learn all that for? Thinking about defeating Vashnar’s one thing, but we’re not going to do it with an army, are we? Besides, my staffwork’s fine.’
‘And so’s my swordwork, thank you,’ Adren added acidly.
‘Yes, I’ve seen you, don’t forget,’ Endryk replied. ‘I’ll come to that in a moment. But you’ll need to be able to use both bow and sling for hunting if you don’t want to starve. And, sadly, there’s every possibility that sooner or later you’ll have to fight your own kind again. Only next time they’ll know how dangerous you are and they won’t be so reckless. The only way you’ll survive that is by being both better and worse than they are.’ Rhavvan and Adren looked set to speak but he did not allow them. ‘Rhavvan, your staff fighting’s very interesting – looks to me as if it’s been derived from the ancient fighting school of hard knocks. I look forward to practicing with you. I think we’ll both learn a lot. Hyrald…’ He was sympathetic. ‘I’m afraid your swordwork’s no more than adequate. We’ll have to work on it.’ This was not telling Hyrald anything he did not already know, and he merely looked at Endryk uncertainly as he pressed on. ‘Adren, your swordwork’s quite good, it’ll make an excellent basis for developing a proper technique, and…’
‘Quite good!’ she spluttered before he could continue. Adren took a considerable pride in her skill with a sword and she did not respond well to this slight on her ability. ‘Proper technique!’ Her anger suddenly welled up. ‘I’ll give you proper technique, you son of a bitch.’ She stood up and drew her sword. ‘On your feet and see if you like the flat of my technique across your backside.’ Hyrald and Rhavvan edged back, knowing from experience that there were times when Adren was not to be disputed with. She bent forward and held a beckoning hand in front of Endryk’s bemused face.
‘Up,’ she said.
He turned to Rhavvan and Hyrald in appeal but received only regretful shrugs. Then he smiled and stood up. The smile did nothing to assuage Adren’s mood.
‘Maybe I phrased my remarks a little unhappily,’ he said, conciliatory. ‘I didn’t mean…’
Adren’s finger jabbed out towards his sword. ‘I know exactly what you meant. Draw that. Put your blade where your mouth is or sit down.’
‘Be careful, little sister,’ Hyrald said warningly.
‘Don’t worry, big brother,’ Adren retorted caustically. ‘No one’s going to get hurt, other than in their pride. Someone here’s got to stand up for the Wardens.’
Seeing himself abandoned, Endryk drew his sword awkwardly. He did not present any form of guard, however; instead he let his arm hang loose by his side, his sword point resting on the ground, as if uncertain as to what he should do. Adren circled around him with slow easy strides, both her sword and her gaze levelled at him unwaveringly.
Hyrald watched with mixed feelings. Wardens did not often have to resort to using their swords, and on most of the occasions they did so, it was the terror that the action invoked and the liberal use of the flat of the blade that did what was necessary. Nevertheless, proficiency with a sword was a matter of some pride amongst them and Adren was generally acknowledged to be one of their finest exponents. There were very few Wardens who could face her and come away unscathed. She was legitimately proud of her skill. On the other hand, Endryk was their guide, helper and ally. There was no saying what his response might be if Adren fulfilled her promise and humiliated him. And too, he was a completely unknown quantity. Almost daily since their first meeting he had demonstrated skills that Hyrald had never realized existed. Further, this was not the time for such antics.
He had just decided to intervene when Adren stepped sideways and forward and spun around. It was a manoeuvre intended to carry her suddenly outside her opponent’s line of sight and which would conclude with the flat of her blade landing squarely on his rear. Having been the victim of it himself more than once, Hyrald knew that her abrupt disappearance was disconcerting enough without the indignity and implicit menace of the blow.
Endryk, however, somehow mirrored the move so that Adren’s blade flew wide, unbalancing her slightly and leaving the two of them facing one another again. Though swift, Endryk’s move had been done so unhurriedly that it drove Hyrald’s immediate preoccupations from his mind as he tried to recall exactly what had happened. Endryk had still not raised his sword.
Adren recovered quickly, and taking her swinging sword in both hands she suddenly spun the blade vertical as though to strike Endryk flat in the face. This time he did move with conspicuous speed, stepping back and sideways and swinging his own sword around to beat hers down. Again Adren responded quickly, retreating and raising her sword into its initial guard position. The challenge had gone from her face. Her expression was now a mixture of shrewd assessment and curiosity.
Endryk gave a slight bow. ‘That was very good,’ he said genuinely. ‘I apologize for underestimating you. My mistake. I won’t do it again.’ He held out a hand to halt the proceedings briefly. ‘But – if I may – you’re using your sword as a punishment baton. You’re going to have to think about using it to kill people with.’ Adren stiffened. As did Hyrald. Oddly, Endryk’s soft voice was more frightening than any screamed instruction. Adren had killed two people during her service with the Wardens. In both cases she had acted in self-defence and no reproach had been offered her either legally or morally. Indeed, she had acted with great courage. But the incidents were never far from her mind.
‘I can do that, if I have to,’ she said, her face suddenly drawn and her mouth taut.
Endryk looked at her for a long moment. ‘Yes. I can see that. I’m sorry again. I didn’t realize. I think we’ve both just made a mistake, don’t you? We’ll do this some other time.’ He sheathed his sword.
Adren’s face softened. ‘No, it was my fault – I started it. The apology’s mine.’ Then some of her challenge returned and she cocked her head on one side. ‘Still, no one’s ever moved around me like that before. I’d be interested to know how you did it.’
Endryk seemed inclined to refuse, then he changed his mind. He addressed the entire group. Thyrn had abandoned his practice and was standing nearby, watching wide-eyed. Endryk tapped his stomach then his forehead. Hyrald suddenly had a vision of a line of teachers reaching back through time and doing the same.
‘Survival lies in the mind and body being together. I can show you where to put your hands and feet, and why. And you can – you must – practice what I show you. But the will – the clear intention – has to come from inside. You must know about that from the outset, even if you don’t understand. Let me show you something to think about.’
He turned back to Adren. ‘Lunge,’ he said, offering himself squarely to her. Adren frowned then hesitantly pushed her sword forward so that it stopped a little way in front of him.
Endryk looked down at it. ‘I don’t need to defend myself against an attack that’s not there,’ he said. ‘This time lunge as if you mean it.’
‘But…’
‘And you shouldn’t teach yourself not to attack. It’ll get you killed one day.’
‘But…’
Endryk looked into her eyes. ‘We have to trust one another as you’ve never trusted before if you’re to win your lives back. Trust me now. Lunge again. Properly this time.’
Adren still hesitated. She looked quickly at Hyrald but found no help there.
‘Do it!’ Endryk commanded. ‘Trust!’
Adren’s hand twitched nervously around the hilt of her sword. Then, eyes both fearful and determined, she lunged again, this time advancing and extending fully. As before, Endryk’s response did not seem to be hurried, but before Adren’s forward movement had stopped, he was by her side, one hand gripping her leading sword hand and the other holding a knife across her throat. She gasped and her eyes widened in shock.
‘Good,’ Endryk said, releasing her and sheathing his knife. ‘Very good. I see we’ve all got a lot to learn from one another. Thank you.’ His arm looped around Adren’s shoulders and embraced her briefly.
Rhavvan was on his feet asking the question that Adren was about to ask. ‘How did you do that? That was amazing. You must show me…’
‘All in due course,’ Endryk said. ‘I think we should be on our way. We don’t know what’s behind us yet and there’s a lot of open country ahead. We should make what speed we can. Get where we’re going as soon as possible.’ He was pointing.
The others followed his hand. The sky was clearing rapidly and with it the mistiness that had been clouding the countryside.
On the horizon was the ragged outline of the Karpas Mountains.