On his palm lay the token. Nevyn plucked it off and showed it to Maddyn, who lay back down.
Ill pin this on my own shirt, Nevyn said, so it wont get lost.
Maddyn smiled, his eyes closed. Nevyn set a packet of emetics to steeping, then called in Branoic. Together they carried Maddyn and the kettle outside, where the herb water could do its work while sparing the tent. The rest of the night passed unpleasantly, but towards dawn Nevyn realized that Maddyn was on the mend when the bard managed to drink some well-watered ale and keep it down. He sent young Garro off to wash Maddyns clothes and told Branoic to try feeding Maddyn a little bread soaked in ale the next time he woke.
Ive got an errand to run, Nevyn said. I wonder where Oggyns had his servant pitch his tent?
Just back of the princes own, Branoic said. Hes put a red pennant upon it.
Just like the lord he wants to be, eh? Very well then.
In the silver light of approaching dawn the tent proved easy enough to find. Nevyn lifted the flap and spoke Oggyns name.
Im awake, my lord, Oggyn said, and he sounded exhausted. Come in.
Nevyn ducked through the tent flap and found Oggyn fully dressed, sitting on a little stool in the semi-darkness. Nevyn called upon the spirits of Aethyr and set a ball of dweomer light glowing. When he stuck it to the canvas Oggyn barely seemed to notice.
Ive been expecting you, Oggyn said. I heard what happened to Maddyn. The gossips all over the camp. I suppose you think I made that wretched bard ill on purpose.
I had thoughts that way, truly, Nevyn said. Was it only the spoiled pork, or did you use a bit of Lady Meroddas poisons?
Neither, I swear it! Oggyn began to tremble, and by the dweomer light Nevyn could see that his face had gone pasty white around the eyes. Even if I had given them that barrel, how could I insure that only Maddyn would eat the stuff? Nevyn, do you truly think Id poison the entire troop to get at him?
Shame is a bitter thing, Nevyn said, and you had a score or two to settle with Owaen and Branoic as well.
Oggyn slid off the stool and dropped to his knees. Ah ye gods! Do you think Id do anything that would harm our prince?
What? Of course not!
He depends upon the silver daggers. Oggyn looked up. Big drops of sweat ran down his face. Think you Id poison his guards?
Well. Nevyn considered for a long moment. Truly, I have to give you that. And theres no doubt that spoiled meat will give a man the flux as surely as Meroddas poisons would.
Oggyn nodded repeatedly, as if urging him along this line of thought. Nevyn opened his dweomer sight and considered Oggyns aura, dancing a pale sickly grey in terror but free of guile.
Will you swear to me again? Nevyn said.
I will, Oggyn said. May Great Bel strike me dead if I lie. I did not try to poison Maddyn or anyone else. That salt pork should have been left at the dun for the dogs.
The aura pulsated with fear but fear alone.
Very well, Nevyn said at last. You have my apology.
Oggyn got up and ran a shaking hand over his face. I can see why youd suspect me, he whispered. But I swear to you, I did no such thing. Im just cursed glad you came to me in private and didnt just blurt this in front of the prince.
I did have my doubts.
Ah ye gods! Ill never be safe again. Any time the least little harm befalls that wretched bard, Ill be blamed.
Truly, you might devote some time to thinking up ways to keep him safe.
Oggyn gave him a sickly smile. Without another word, Nevyn left him to recover his composure.
There remained the problem of what to do with Maddyn. He was too weak to ride with the army; jouncing around in a cart would only weaken him further. This deep into enemy territory leaving him behind would be a death sentence. The mornings council of war, however, solved the problem. Gwerbret Ammerwdd pointed out that Braemys was most likely laying a trap or, at the least, leading them into some weak position.
He knows this country well, Ammerwdd said. Ive no doubt hes got some trick in mind, or some battlefield that will be to his liking but not to ours.
I agree, Maryn said. I suggest we camp here today and send out scouts. They can cover a good deal of territory once theyre free of the army.
After a great deal of discussion, the rest of the lords went along with the plan. All that morning the army waited as horsemen came and went, fanning out into the countryside in the hopes of getting a glimpse of Braemyss position.
Nevyn spent much of the wait with Maddyn in his tent. Although the herbs had purged the worst of the contagion, the bard still lay ill, so exhausted he was cold and shivering despite the afternoon warmth. From the vomiting, his lips and the skin around them were cracking. When Nevyn rubbed herbed lard into them, he noticed that his skin had no resilience. Nevyn pinched a bit twixt thumb and forefinger so gently that Maddyn never noticed, but the little ridge of skin persisted rather than smoothing itself out.
Fortunately, near to camp some of the men had found a spring of pure water; Nevyn sent Branoic off with a clean bucket to fetch some back.
The contagion has depleted his watery humours, Nevyn told him. Weve got to replenish them.
Sometimes Maddyn could keep the pure water down, and sometimes it came back up again, but eventually he did manage to drink enough to allay the worst of Nevyns fears. Through all of this Branoic hovered miserably outside, glad for every little errand that Nevyn found for him to do.
Hes been my friend from the day I joined the daggers, Branoic said. Ill do anything I can, my lord.
Good, Nevyn said. He needs water and food both, but he wont be able to keep down more than a bite or swallow at a time.
If all that arse-ugly porks gone, why is he still so sick?
I wish I knew. Men whove eaten spoiled food often stay ill for a long time after, but Ive no idea why.
Branoic stared wide-eyed.
Theres a cursed lot of things I dont know, Nevyn went on. No other herbman Ive ever met knows them either. Why contagion lingers is one of them, and how it spreads is another.
I see. Branoic rubbed the back of his hand against his chin. Thats not what Id call reassuring, my lord.
Honesty rarely is. Now, go tend Maddyn. Ive got to make myself presentable for the princes council of war.
In a darkening twilight two of Daerycs men galloped in with news. A herald led them to the prince, who was sitting in front of his tent with Nevyn and some of his vassals around him. In the firelight they knelt to him and told their tale. Theyd ridden directly east or so theyd reckoned from the position of the sun. Their shadows were stretching long in front of them by the time that they topped a low rise and saw, some miles further off, a huge cloud of dust drifting at the horizon.
It had to be the Cantrae men, your highness, one of the scouts said. Naught but an army could raise that dust, and the gods all know theres not enough men left for more than one.
Just so, Maryn said, grinning. How far away were they?
From our camp, your highness? The scout thought for a moment. Well, at least a days travel for an army that size, but not a cursed lot more, Id say. We watched for a bit longer, too. The dust didnt seem to come nearer.
From our camp, your highness? The scout thought for a moment. Well, at least a days travel for an army that size, but not a cursed lot more, Id say. We watched for a bit longer, too. The dust didnt seem to come nearer.
Looked like it were shrinking a bit, the second scout volunteered. And I thought, I did, they be settling down for the nights camp.
Good. Maryn stood up and glanced at the noblemen. I doubt me if well see battle on the morrow.
Mostly likely not, Gwerbret Ammerwdd said. But I say we should stand ready for it anyway.
The rest of the noble-born nodded, muttered a few words, and glanced back and forth among themselves. Nevyn was aware of Gwerbret Daeryc, watching him with one eyebrow raised. Nevyn smiled blandly in return. He had nothing to add to the scouts report, not at the moment, at least.
Late that night, when the camp lay asleep except for the night sentries, Nevyn went into his tent and summoned his body of light. He rose straight out through the tents roof into the etheric plane, where the stars hung down close, it seemed, as huge glittering silver spheres. With the scouts report to guide him, he travelled fast over the red and glowing countryside below. Eventually he saw on the horizon a strange light, a flickering expanse of yellows and oranges, shot through with dancing reds, that looked just like a wildfire burning across a grassy plain would have looked in the physical world. He knew, however, that here on the etheric he was seeing the massed auras of Braemyss army.
Although he now had a reasonable idea of their distance, he decided to risk going closer. The army had set up camp on his side of Loc Glas and the river that flowed south from it. He could approach them with no danger from the seething water veils, and Braemys had no dweomermaster in his retinue. Unchallenged Nevyn floated over the horse herd, drowsing at tether in a meadow. The tents lay just beyond. Nevyn rose up high for an overview; while he had no time to count them, he could tell that this force was a good bit smaller than Maryns.
Something about the camp struck him as odd. He let himself drift on the etheric flow, hovered like a hawk on the wind while he tried to think. The rational faculties function sluggishly if at all out on the etheric. Still, he studied the camp and stored up images of it before he turned back and returned to his tent.
As soon as he was back in his body and fully awake, he understood what hed seen. No carts. No packsaddles, either, stacked at the edge of the meadow. With the first streak of grey dawn, he got up and trotted through the sleeping camp to Maryns tent. He found the prince awake, standing outside and yawning.
News, your highness, Nevyn said. Braemys has left his baggage train behind. His men must be carrying what food they can in their saddlebags. Hes marching for a quick strike.
Maryn tossed back his head and laughed. Good, the prince said at last. Today might see the end of this, then.
Perhaps. I cant help but wonder if Braemys has some tricky manoeuvre in mind.
The camp went on armed alert. Under Oggyns command, the contingent of spearmen assembled the provision wagons, extra horses, servants, struck tents, bedrolls, and suchlike out in a meadow, then stood guard round the perimeter. The army saddled and bridled their horses, then donned armour, but rather than tire their mounts, they sat on the ground beside them to wait. Since the prince had sent some of his silver daggers out as scouts, they would have ample warning should Braemys be making a fast march to battle. In the dust and shouting that accompanied all these preparations Nevyn slipped away from camp. He walked about a mile back west to a copse of trees hed spotted earlier. The matter of Braemyss missing wagon train irked him.
In the shelter of an oak he lay down on the ground, crossed his arms over his chest, and went into trance. During daylight the etheric world glowed, pulsing with life, and the blue light shimmered and trembled all round him. The sun, a vast blazing sphere, shot huge arrows of gold down upon the earth. The reddish auras of grass and trees writhed and stretched out long tendrils of etheric substance to capture the gold and feed upon it. In all this confusion Nevyn could barely sort out east from west. He rose up high, where he could comprehend the view and pick out roads and rivers from the general splendour. With the silver cord paying out behind him, he travelled back east, heading for the spot where hed seen Braemyss army.
Nevyn was expecting to meet up with the enemy, and indeed, he overtook them some miles closer to Maryn than hed left them the night past. The army straggled over a long stretch of road, and thanks to this loose formation he could see that not a single wagon followed the riders. He swung north to keep clear of the tangled mass of auras and physical dust, rose higher in the blue light, and saw off on the horizon northward a glow. It appeared as a dome of pale light, mostly yellow, shot here and there with red. On the etheric, with his physical body and its correlates far behind him, he was hard pressed to tell just how close it might have been.
Isnt this interesting? Nevyn thought. A second force, perhaps. He angled away from the road and headed towards the pulsing dome of light. As he travelled, he noted landmarks below that might, once hed returned to his normal intellect, give him some idea of distance and location. The dome itself never seemed to move or change its size. Once he drew close, he could see why. Not a second force, but Braemyss missing baggage train spread out over long-deserted fields. It was enormous, as well, a good many times larger than Maryns even though Braemys was leading a far smaller army. When Nevyn dropped down closer for a look, he saw many small auras, pale and trembling, among the larger glows: frightened children, he realized with a shock. Many of the large auras belonged to women, as well. What were they doing there? And why north, what must have been a good long distance north? A puzzle, all of it.
Nevyn hovered for a few moments, memorizing the lay of the camp and the land around it both, then turned and headed back south. Sped by his curiosity, he saw the landscape below unrolling as fast as a Bardek scroll dropped by a careless scribe. In what seemed like a few moments he once again hovered above Braemyss army, which had stopped marching and stood in the road. Nevyn could feel the tug of the silver cord that connected him to his body; he was tiring fast, and staying too long in the etheric offered danger even to a master of dweomer such as he. But at the same time he felt an urgency to stay, some deep intuition from his innermost being. Like a hawk on the wind he hovered above the army and saw a small group of men sitting on horseback out in a meadow. Braemys and his lords, Ill wager!
The thought caught him like a gust of wind and blew him to the cluster of men on horseback, but he was too late to join their conference. The lords all drew their swords, black smears of death in the golden auras, clashed them together as if sealing an oath, then turned their horses and trotted back to the waiting army. Once again Nevyn felt the tug of his silver cord. When he glanced down he saw his body of light growing dangerously thin. He focused his will and began to capture etheric light, wrapping it in long silvery blue strands around himself. His simulacrum soaked it up as cloth soaks water, and once again he felt strong and solid.
By this time the army below had begun to move. In an instant Nevyn understood why hed forced himself to stay: the column was splitting itself into two parts. One, with the Boar banners at its head, was heading fast off to the southwest to circle round from the Red Wyverns flank? Most likely. Only when that second column was well under way did the remains of the army set out westward again. At its head fluttered banners carrying the crossed sword device of Lughcarn. This time, when Nevyn felt the silver cord hauling at his body of light, he gave in to the impulse and sped back west to his body and Prince Maryn. He had some news for the council of war now, good and proper.