The Storm's Own Son (Book 2) Read online

  Adriko slouched in his saddle with a lazy smile, "I wouldn't complain if that spirit of peace and nonviolence took hold in Avrosa, at least among their soldiers."

  Kurvan growled. Then something more seemed to occur to him. "They've got something new going on in there. That's for sure. A lot of people singing in groups. They've had a big fire going for two days now in a square over past the civic buildings. We can't get a clear view of it from outside. A few men say it smells like curing meat."

  ~

  As they approached along the coastal plain, the walls of Avrosa looked golden in the fading afternoon light. From the center of the city, in an area of towers and large, colonnaded buildings, Talaos could see the line of smoke trailing up into the sky. It was bigger than that of any chimney. More like a bonfire. Around Avrosa, the besieging army had visibly grown. Siege engines were at the ready, and men looked to be at work building scaling ladders.

  Outer picket sentries greeted them, and as they approached, soldiers all across the north of the camp took notice. After the grim fight they'd had, it hadn't occurred to Talaos how they would look from outside. Here was Adriko coming back with Drosta dead, a more powerful enemy force defeated, large quantities of spoils, hundreds of extra horses and a full supply caravan. Their losses wouldn't seem so bad to men who hadn't watched comrades die.

  They would look like victorious heroes.

  The cheers they started to receive as they passed the outer trench made it clear that it was exactly how they were seen. Soldiers swarmed from all sides to greet them. Officers began working to restore order. Kurvan sent his horde of irregulars out of the way, then put his cavalry to work forming two long files on either side of a clear central path. All around, beyond the cordon of cavalry, soldiers gathered cheering.

  Adriko got his own little group organized with the officers at the front, followed by the Madmen, then the Aledri spearmen, the irregulars and the cavalry, and then the long train of captured spoils. The men were still covered in the dust of the road, with bandaged wounds, and none of them had gotten much sleep in the past two days. But still, the excitement of the moment seemed to put more spirit in them.

  He rode along to a good spot to address the troops, and with a loud clear voice, spoke.

  "Men, that is our army around us cheering you. You earned it. Don't be afraid of glory when it's yours, and enjoy it while it lasts. We'll be back on duty soon enough. But don't forget you also earned your share of the spoils, and that's yours to keep."

  With that, he rode forward and took his place at the lead of the column. Talaos was at Adriko's left and Lurios to the right. With Drevan and the cavalry decurions behind, they rode forward, and the men followed.

  They rode down the cleared way with cheering soldiers on either side, beating spears or swords against shields in a thunderous noise. At the far end they could see the commanders on horseback, facing them in a line. Kurvan had somehow managed to get through the crowd to join them. When they approached to within about ten yards, Sanctari raised his right hand in a gesture that meant they should stop. They did so, and then in a long rolling wave down the lines, the watching soldiers went quiet.

  Talaos, his scarred, bandaged body still aching with pain, had no idea what to expect next, but he hoped it wasn't a long speech.

  Sanctari rode forward a few yards. He raised his forearm across his chest in salute.

  "Hail the victors! Hail your brothers in arms! Hail!" the general called out.

  "Hail!" came the cries of thousands of voices all around, as soldiers raised salutes.

  Adriko returned the salute, and Talaos followed with the other officers.

  There was a pause, a moment of quiet, as thousands of soldiers stood in silent honor of their brothers in arms. Brothers in arms, thought Talaos with intensity, including him. He absorbed the meaning, and the power of this moment.

  He resolved to learn from it, and what it opened before him.

  Sanctari raised his hand again, this time in greeting.

  "Welcome," he said, smiling.

  With that, the mood relaxed. Some soldiers cheered anew, others began to talk among themselves, and others still returned to their tasks elsewhere in the camp.

  Exhaustion returned to the faces of Adriko's weary men.

  Talaos turned to Adriko, "So, is that it?"

  Adriko gestured to their men behind them. "It is, for them. In just a moment, I'll be giving them leave to go. Tomorrow we'll all divide our share of the spoils."

  Talaos noticed the use of the term 'for them' and waited for what Adriko had next.

  The captain cracked a wry smile, "Don't worry. We'll have reports to give, but this should be good. And when it is done, then, we officers can finally sleep. Well, in your case assuming you still actually sleep at all..."

  ~

  The doors of the high command tent were open. Guards and a pair of lit torches flanked the entrance. In the western sky, the last ragged red of sunset was fading to starlit black, while a deeper black loomed in the east.

  Inside, by the light of lanterns, Talaos stood speaking. He was to the left of Drevan, Lurios, and Adriko, and facing the assembled senior commanders. He was reaching the end of his report of the events of the battles. The others had already spoken, giving more formal reports, and his largely consisted of answering questions and filling in details.

  When he finished, there was a long silence as the commanders studied him in appraisal.

  Talaos, in turn, appraised them.

  Sanctari, general of the powerful coastal city of Teroia.

  Kurvan, warlord of the western hills

  Pelias, general of the city of Megasi, a tall strong man with aquiline features and short black hair graying at the temples. He wore a breastplate so richly decorated with engraved gilt work as to look mostly golden, and a purple and black cloak.

  Aro, a general representing the inland towns of the League of Mesion Hill. He was a lean, active man with gray-streaked light brown hair, in a lacquered breastplate of red and black. His red cloak had a decorated gold border.

  These men had opposed the offer of the emissaries of the Prophet.

  Then there were the others.

  Nissas, General of Aledri, and the original source of the mission that had brought Talaos this moment.

  Dromno, general representing the several towns of the League of Padra. A sturdy, gray-haired man in well made but plain segmented armor, and a black and white geometric cloak.

  Tescani, a mercenary warlord with several towns and a wide stretch of countryside under his apparently ruthless, efficient rule. He wore full, body-covering armor, like a heavy cavalryman, but better fitted and with fewer gaps than any armor Talaos had ever seen, as well as numerous weapons on various belts and straps.

  Those men had supported the offer of the emissaries of the Prophet.

  But why had each made the choice they did?

  However, the silence was interrupted as Sanctari turned, first one way, and then the other, to his fellow commanders. They nodded or made other gestures of agreement. He raised his hand.

  "Gentlemen, the approach of an enemy army of such size means that certain decisions should be made now."

  Sanctari paused, then spoke again.

  "Adriko, step forward."

  Adriko did so.

  "Congratulations, you are now Tribune Adriko. All the irregular mercenary companies raised under joint allied command for this campaign, including your old one, will now report to you. While you were gone, the total has increased to five. As you know, they were not previously under a single commander, so this role will be yours to create."

  Adriko saluted. It was returned, and he went back to his seat with a tense, thoughtful edge under his languid manner.

  "Lurios, step forward."

  The trim, elegant-mannered young man did so. His head was still bandaged, but he'd found the time to polish his armor, and he'd put on a new tunic in the uniform blue of Aledri.

  "Congratula
tions, Tribune Lurio of Aledri. You will now command four companies of spearmen in replacement of Tribune Arax, who is being sent to Aledri to raise reinforcements."

  Salutes were exchanged, and Lurios returned to his seat, looking solemnly proud.

  "Drevan, step forward."

  Energetic as always, the short, muscular, cavalry officer almost bounced his way to the commanders. He'd put on a new tunic in the black and purple of his city of Megasi.

  "Congratulations, Captain Drevan of Megasi. You will be put on flexible command duties over detachments of allied cavalry for the duration of the campaign. However, your new rank in the army of Megasi has been confirmed as permanent by General Pelias."

  Upon completing the salutes, Drevan loped happily back to his seat.

  The commanders now took on a more tense air. Sanctari looked solemn.

  "Talaos, step forward."

  He did so.

  "Congratulations, Captain Talaos. Because of what we are going to discuss, you will have a choice. You may take command of Adriko's former company, the Second Irregulars. Or you may accept a task that relies on what you, you specifically, can do."

  Talaos listened with intense interest as Sanctari spoke.

  "To support you, you would be allowed to supplement your Madmen with a company composed entirely of volunteers. As you know, we may have to finish this siege as quickly as possible. That means we may have to take the city by storm, and risk immense losses doing so."

  Adriko looked as if he suddenly felt ill.

  The commanders, to varying degrees, looked as if Sanctari were about to pronounce a death sentence, but Talaos saw only the possibilities opening before him.

  Sanctari continued.

  "Leading the first wave over the walls is dangerous, and often a suicide mission. But you, Talaos, might be able to do it. If you could force a way in, and get the great gates open, we could pour into the city faster than they could organize properly to defend it."

  Talaos listened, and considered.

  He knew he would do this the right way, on his terms, or not at all. He replied coolly. "My acceptance would depend on certain things that will be necessary for success. The first is full control over who I accept as volunteers. The second is freedom to operate independently. The third is access to resources to properly prepare and equip my men. The fourth is enough authority, with the rank of tribune, to enforce my orders during the assault."

  Most of the commanders looked surprised. Kurvan growled and grinned. Tescani gave a sudden look of hard appraisal. Sanctari, however, seemed simply thoughtful.

  "Talaos, please step outside for a moment while we discuss," replied Sanctari. "The rest of you gentlemen are dismissed."

  The others saluted and left. Talaos followed them. When he stepped outside, the guards stationed at the entrance closed the tent flaps.

  The others hadn't gone far. Lurios and Drevan stared at him in silent surprise, but Adriko had a hint of worry under his bemused smile.

  "Talaos, you do realize that you were, quite recently, a new recruit?"

  "It seems vaguely familiar," replied Talaos with a mocking smile.

  "And are you aware," Adriko went on, "that tribune might be a broad sort of rank, but it still refers to someone who can or does command multiple companies? Usually, a tribune answers only to the general of a city or league."

  "That is the point," answered Talaos lightly.

  "Also," said Adriko, "it seems to have escaped your attention, and that of the commanders, but you are severely wounded. You have a lot of them, however unnaturally far along in healing they might be."

  "The healing is natural to me."

  Adriko made a resigned shrug.

  "And, if I may provide a gentle reminder," continued Adriko, ceasing to smile, "I know what you are capable of. It amazes me, but Sanctari did point out that being first to storm the walls is a suicide mission."

  "Often, not is," corrected Talaos, still smiling. Then the smile faded, and he added, "This is what I am made to do, and exactly where I want to be."

  For a moment, Adriko looked appalled. Then his mobile face changed to resignation, and finally an inquisitive smile like that of a curious cat. "All right then. This should be interesting," he said.

  At a word from inside the tent, the guards reopened the door flaps.

  Talaos strode in, comfortable with all outcomes, but confident in one.

  Sanctari watched him with a reflective expression, and intent eyes.

  "Talaos, we agree. You will have what you asked, if you accept."

  "Then I accept."

  2. Gathering

  "I still can't believe they made you a tribune! Now even the commanders have cracked," snorted Kyrax.

  Talaos laughed and looked around the table at his fellow Madmen. He'd rolled up the sides of their new command tent to let in the mid-morning air, and could see the piled canvas of the other tents that would soon go up to make their own section of the camp.

  Before them was a big platter of good food now half finished, and some watered wine.

  Vulkas was grinning in between huge bites of breakfast.

  "Nice armor," the giant said to Talaos, with an edge that would have pleased Adriko.

  "Nice that you have armor, I'd say, Talaos," added Larogwan. "Though I must admit, Vulkas, you're looking a bit shinier too."

  It was true, thought Talaos, between his apparent new fame in the camp, Adriko's surprisingly large network of strings to pull, a rich haul of spoils, and his new rank, he'd managed to requisition, buy, swap, or scavenge enough to equip everyone far better than they'd been two days before.

  "You look the part of a victorious commander, and that should help with recruitment," said Epos, voice bass as a war drum in the first words he'd spoken all morning.

  That too was true, Talaos admitted.

  He had new black tunic, pants, and boots, and a black cloak bordered with a bit of silver scrollwork. His armor was a light, flexible, segmented breastplate, black steel trimmed in silver, and some sturdy plain steel greaves and vambraces. He wore his swords on a plain black belt and baldric, which, alas, meant his old collection of knives no longer had convenient places to call home.

  Most appropriately, and most improbably, someone had turned up an open faced black steel helmet with a metal crest. It had a design of bright silver lightning bolts radiating out along the raised brim from a point at the center of his brow, a bit like a third eye.

  "I don't think we'll have much time to spare. We'll all be working together on recruitment, men," Talaos said to them all.

  "Even me?" gulped Firio, who now had a sturdy new leather shirt, free of blood stains.

  "Just tell them some of what you did on the battlefield, and they'll listen," replied Talaos.

  "The men around camp are already telling many such tales," added Halmir, "though this army lacks proper skalds to sing them."

  "Those are our stories you're talking about, lad!" laughed Larogwan. "Recent ones. And it seems a bit premature to be making songs about them."

  "Why so?" replied Halmir."They are true deeds, and great. We should want songs of them sung, while we still live."

  Imvan, who'd already been quiet, almost shrank into his chair at Halmir's words.

  Larogwan noticed, and turned his way. "Don't worry lad, we're not dead yet."

  The hillman looked up. "It isn't that. I am just not... comfortable with our fame."

  Talaos, contentedly finishing a bite of food, looked over to the young hillman, and answered, "We didn't choose our new fame, Imvan, but we have it, like it or not. Our task is to accept it, but remain who we are."

  That answer seemed to please Imvan, and he sat back up to drink a little of the thin wine.

  "This time, you did not sound like Adriko," added Larogwan.

  "That's right!" boomed Vulkas with a grin, and pounding a fist on the table to Firio's visible shock. "He sounds like Talaos."

  "That's fucking Tribune Talaos, to you soldi
er!" snapped Kyrax.

  There was an awkward pause.

  "Wait, Kyrax, was that a joke?" asked Talaos.

  Laughs passed around the table.

  "Well, yes..." replied Kyrax, sounding what, for him, passed for sheepish.

  "Now that really is a change," beamed Larogwan.

  Halmir, who'd been looking out at the towering black clouds in the east, put a hand to his braided golden-red beard, and spoke in a reflective, almost distant voice, "Change is coming for all of us, soon."

  ~

  As it turned out, thought Talaos, recruitment was not that difficult. They'd spent the later morning walking around camp spreading the news, then set up their table in a highly visible spot at the edge of their new section of it. Both potential volunteers and the merely curious had come by in large numbers, as gaps in their duties allowed.

  In an army that had swelled to nearly fourteen thousand, there turned out to be five hundred or so reckless or crazy enough to volunteer for a suicide mission. Then again, Talaos mused, the excited talk of many of those men showed that, at least today, they didn't think it was such a suicide mission if he was leading it.

  However, he wanted the ones who did still see it as something as likely to lead to death as victory, but were willing to try anyway.

  As men volunteered, he quickly sized them up and put their names and descriptions on either a shorter list, or a longer one. At dusk they closed up shop, and Talaos set to work in the command tent with input from the Madmen, Adriko, and such other officers as he could coax into visiting. For what they had to accomplish, a small body of the toughest men would do more good than a bigger, less deadly, harder to coordinate horde. And he needed men that, if it came to it, could operate nearly as independently of him as he would of the main army.

  He worked late into the night, but at last he thought he had it. Out of the five hundred volunteers, he would accept a hundred. All were experienced soldiers who'd seen close combat. They would be organized into ten squads, each with a decurion. He would command the Madmen personally, with Larogwan as decurion if he was absent.