| |
The rolling green hills were decorated with tents as far as could be seen. Marcellus' army joined with Theron and his war band, and the Silver Horn fluttered side by side with the Isbjorn for the first time. Soldiers of both camps mingled freely, any lingering animosity between former contending nations put aside by their common goal.
Infantrymen from Feroch had arrived as well, along with crossbowmen. They camped separately. The joke from the other soldiers was that they kept themselves busy polishing their breastplates and oiling their long, curled mustaches. Marcellus could have done without their superior attitude or the antagonizing sneers they gave to the Norlanders. But despite their misgivings, they happened to be a well-disciplined force that would be handy for strategic purposes.
General Archambault led the Ferochan soldiers. He was an ambitious man, a High Lord of one of the more powerful Houses in Feroch. In typical Ferochan fashion, he insinuated much while revealing nothing, indicating the risks he took and the rewards he would expect should their campaign prove successful. Marcellus gave Archambault equally vague assurances in response.
King Theron greeted Marcellus with his bear-like roar. "Is this all the might you could muster? By Dunnar's Hammer, man! A single Ulfhenar could crush the whole of this lily-livered lot."
Marcellus couldn't help but smile. "Well met, your Majesty. And what of your Ulfhenar? Will they be joining us?"
"Aye. I dared not have them accompany us anywhere civilized. The countryside would be seen only as something to plunder. They will join us in the Barrens, have no fear."
"Have the Hispalians sent word to you?" Marcellus imagined they weren't happy. Hispalis and Norland had bad blood between them from the long years the Norlanders plundered their southern neighbors until peace was brokered. There was no doubt Hispalis would be in arms over the Norland presence there.
"Only that if we pass their border, we will be greeted by a hailstorm of arrows." Theron shrugged. "Mighty Theron be not impressed. When they learned you led us, they did send word to the queen, and she means to arrive here in person." He raised a shaggy eyebrow. "Seems you make quite an impression."
"This isn't my first trip to Hispalis." Marcellus had never thought to return, given what had transpired the last time.
"Aye. It be said that you brokered the peace between your nations without the threat of a sword. Or perhaps not the sword that cuts, har! Mayhap there did be more relations than just between kingdoms, eh?" Theron roared a laugh and gave Marcellus a wallop on the shoulder that nearly unhorsed him.
A company of soldiers in the dark green and violet surcoats of Hispalis rode into view, bearing the Eagle of Hispalis on their banners. They wore the characteristic morrion helmets—kettle-shaped with a protective crest from front to back, topped by a decorative comb to strengthen it. Their burnished breastplates flashed in the sunlight, as did the gleaming poleaxes carried by the foot soldiers. The heavily-armored cavalry on horses was armed with shorter axes and heavy rapiers. At about a hundred meters, they pulled rein to wait for the commander of the opposite army to meet them.
Marcellus called for his horse, and a few moments later, rode to the emissary with Theron, General Archambault, and Nyori. He practically ground his teeth when the bannermen rode with them, carrying the standards of the Silver Horn, Norland, and the Companions. The usual band of fools also accompanied him as his Honor Guard.
The Captain of the Hispalian envoy was an olive-skinned man with a thick mustache and a warm smile. Hispalians were cordial by nature, and formalities were light. He removed his helmet and dipped his head. "You are Lord Marcellus Admorran, se? It is indeed an honor to meet you in person, Al Champio. My name is Captain Ayrton de Vallegera. I will escort you and a small company of your men to the grace of Her Royal Majesty."
His smile slipped for a moment as his eyes flicked to the endless sea of tents behind Marcellus and at Theron, a distrusted Norlander. "She is very much interested in your intentions regarding this army that sits on her border."
"I'm sure she is. Rest assured, sir, all we seek is safe passage through her lands. It is Aceldama, not Hispalis that we seek."
The man's eyes widened slightly. "The Forbidden City? Few still believe it exists, let alone is inhabited."
"But you do."
Vallegera's face grew serious. "Mistro, the Barrens border our country. We know the manner of creatures that dwell in those Goddess-forsaken fields. Tierra delos Fantasmos—The Land of Ghosts is what my people call that domain. We fight to protect our borders but have never ventured into those fog-enshrouded lands in force, for none who have passed into them has returned."
"Then it's past time we do something about that."
De Vallegera's face was decidedly neutral. "We all have to die sometime, Al Champio."
~*~
THEY WERE ESCORTED into Salino, the city on the western border of Hispalis. Marcellus had chosen Han, Nyori, Meshella, and General Archambault to accompany him, leaving Theron in charge until they returned. Both agreed that the Norland king's presence might be regarded as an insult in the presence of the Queen.
Marcellus smiled at Nyori's expression. It was her first visit to the famed kingdom, and she took in the sights with great interest. It was good to see her light-hearted, if only for the moment. She had been entirely too somber of late.
She turned to him with a small smile on her face. He was still surprised by how quickly her demeanor had changed since he first encountered her in the wilds of the Dragonspine not so long ago. She had grown into her station, more mysterious than not with her thoughts and emotions. The soldiers accepted her as a wise woman of sorts and a talisman of good fortune for their campaign. Stories of her 'magical staff' had spread, and many came to be healed of wounds and ailments. Perhaps she merely took on the expected guise for practicality's sake, but if so, she had certainly become adept at it.
"This is a beautiful country, Marcellus. Does it look the same as the last time you were here?"
"Very much, although the roads and buildings have improved. The time of peace has benefited the country greatly, it appears." He gazed at the endless fields of grapevines that would yield the fruit for fine wine, their most lucrative export. Hispalis was rich with agriculture, and besides the grapes, there were fields tilled for corn, potatoes, peas, and many more vegetables. From sunrise to sunset, the workers toiled in the fields, their heads covered by scarves or wide-brimmed straw hats to protect them from the heat of the sun. The orchards of apple, pear, and peach trees were carefully pruned by expert hands.
They rode into the heart of Salino, a small yet distinct city surrounded by a myriad of humble buildings of adobe or wooden frames topped by clay tiles. The buildings were a mixture of the long-past civilization and the newer styles imitating the neighboring nations. Only the main road was stone-paved; the rest were dirt or crushed gravel. The winding streets rolled uphill to the High Don's manor and the enormous cathedral that overlooked the city.
Nyori turned her attention to Captain De Vallegera. "People call Hispalis a new nation, but it looks as though the city is as old as those in Kaerleon."
De Vallegera laughed. "Se, Mistra. Hispalis is only a 'new nation' in the authorized sense of the word. We always had our lands and culture, but our realm was feuded over by Norland and Byrthon in the Age of Kings. We declared our independence in what is known as the Wine Wars. Even after we won back our lands, our nation was still beset by raids from Norland and the bolder clans of the Steppes. That changed with the peace treaty from Kaerleon wrought by Al Champio, something that had benefited both nations and brought prosperity in the absence of conflict."
Nyori turned expectantly. Marcellus shrugged. "I had been direly wounded when brought to Hispalis from the siege of Brumar. Before I left, I was fortunate enough to broker a treaty that would have happened sooner than later anyway."
"You are too modest, Al Champio. The stubbornness of Lucretius was matched only by our young queen at the time. You displayed what your king's envoy didn't: humility becoming an emissary. The peoples of Hispalis are in your debt."
The atmosphere in Salino was of bustle and excitement as they rode toward the High Don's manor. The Queen's Guard swarmed about while everyone else did the best they could to make everything presentable for Her Majesty's unexpected visit.
Most Hispalians were small in stature, so Marcellus stood head and shoulders over the majority. They were mainly dark of hair and eye, with fair and tanned complexions. The men mostly wore their hair clipped short, save for the nobles who let it hang to their shoulders. The women had long, dark hair that they wore loose or tied back with a bow or cord. Both men and women moved with musical grace, and most were quick to smile and greet the newcomers as they passed. They wore simple yet colorful loose-fitting attire. The colors were richer and more expensive on the nobles that rode in carriages or horseback.
The High Don's manor sat in the cathedral's shadow upon a vine-covered hill overlooking the city. Atop the domed roof flew the Eagle of Hispalis, as well as the Moon of Divia, the Queen's personal standard. The company dismounted and entered through heavy wooden doors gilded with grapevines. Along the hallway, the walls were lined with portraits and paintings by many of Hispalis' fine artists. The oils and pastels were rich in color, both dramatic and striking.
Nyori pointed at one of the larger paintings. "It's you!"
The large canvas depicted him on one knee before a woman of striking beauty and bearing, offering a scroll that contained the terms of the treaty of peace. He pulled his eyes away.
"That was long ago. Ancient history."
They stopped before a set of gold-gilded doors. "You have been announced to Her Royal Majesty," De Vallegera said. "We shall wait here." He turned to Marcellus. "It has been how long since you have enjoyed Hispalian hospitality, Al Champio?"
"Close to twenty years."
"Ah, then you have never met the Queen's daughter, Princess Emillisa. She is nearly twenty herself and has accompanied her mother on this visit. Salino is indeed blessed to have the honor of mother and daughter's visit to this city."
"Emillisa," Marcellus murmured softly. "So, the Queen has married, then?"
Ayrton laughed. "No, Mistro, her Majesty remains unmarried. She is the most powerful queen this realm has ever witnessed. What man could stand under the weight of such power? Not many, and the few that dared would do so only for selfish gain. Her Royal Majesty knows this with her infinite wisdom. The father of the child is a mystery but an unimportant one. Such is the prerogative of a queen, se?"
Marcellus slowly nodded. "Se."
The doors opened, and a servant in white and gold livery bowed. "Her Royal Majesty, Queen Salliana de Montes de Oca, will see you now."
Captain Ayrton led the way into the audience chamber. It featured spires that curved upward to the high-domed ceiling that depicted a white-capped eagle battling a serpent. The polished flagstones on the floor were decorated with the Eagle of Hispalis. The light from the open windows painted the room saffron, and a bubbling fountain with sculpted winged figures centered the room.
The chamber was packed. All the Dons and most of the other nobles had arrived in their finest velvets and silks, eager to greet the Queen, and perhaps Marcellus as well. The majority of the men wore long coats and trousers that came down to their stocking-covered calves, while the women wore flaring floor-length dresses that were snug across the bodice and waist. Their hair was styled in elaborate curls or long and hanging down the length of their backs.
The High Don Casimiro de Arellano was an imperious figure with steel-colored hair and a thick mustache. He wore a blue velvet coat embroidered in gold with an eagle emblazoned on the breast. White lace spilled from his collar and cuffs. Alone he would have dominated the room, but he was completely overshadowed by the woman who sat next to him at that particular moment.
Queen Salliana had fully matured and ripened since last Marcellus had seen her, at the very peak of her beauty. Her cheeks were smooth and unlined, her jaw firm, and her olive skin unblemished. Her hair was a cascade of shimmering ebony waves that hung simply and elegantly loose to the small of her back. Her silver-embroidered lavender gown was of the softest silk, and an olive stole hung from her shoulders, heavily brocaded with baby pearls and gems. Lunestones sparkled from the chandelier earrings and the links that encircled her neck.
She wore no crown, yet no one would doubt her royalty. Her demeanor overpowered all others in the room, the sheer regal bearing that would announce her as Queen even if she wore rags. Captain Ayrton and his men dropped to one knee reverently before her, and the Companions hurriedly imitated his example.
"Rise, my friends, old and new." Her voice was uniquely throaty and rich, her presence so captivating it was hard to focus on anything else. "Lord Admorran, it has been too long since you came and brought peace to our nation. It is indeed a pleasure to welcome you once more." She raised a wry eyebrow. "Though it would be a far better reunion had you not brought with you the largest army to ever sit unmolested on my border. The Dons are anxious, and I too must question your intentions. Our countries have long been neighbors and allies. Do you now bring war to my doorstep? Are the unsettling rumors we hear from your lands true?"
Marcellus rose and looked her steadily in the eye. "Your Royal Majesty, it is true that the peace and friendliness between our lands have never been betrayed. That is why I implore that you trust me now. Whatever you have heard about Kaerleon is irrelevant in the face of what endangers all of Vinkalla. That is why I ask that you allow us passage to enter the Barrens and attack Aceldama."
Murmurs rippled across the crowd of nobles. The Queen studied him with penetrating eyes. "So, the time has at last arrived," she mused softly. "The nations take up arms against the akhkharu."
She smiled bitterly. "Yes, Lord Admorran, we know the nature of the beings you seek to destroy. Since my nation's birth, we have faced the inhabitants of the great fog-covered lands. We are the buffer between a world that doesn't even know of their existence. Never truly a war, not even a skirmish has occurred. Only a battle of shadows. My people call them the bruha—the Unspoken Ones. We know of them, Marcellus, and we fear them."
Marcellus nodded. "Then you understand why our task is so important. Now is the time to bring the battle to them. We must show them that men will no longer cower in fear of the darkness."
She studied him for a moment. He met her look with an even gaze of his own. I hold no grudge against you. But do you keep one against me?
She turned to the High Don. "You speak for the Dons, de Arellano. What would be your advice?"
He gave Marcellus a long look before answering. "Were it anyone but Lord Admorran, I would eagerly suggest you refuse passage outright." He spoke in a rich accent, like most Hispalians, for Jenera was the second language in Hispalis.
He leaned forward as if to get a better look. "But it is he in the flesh, Al Champio himself." His gaze was as steady as the Queen's. "You have earned the trust of the Hispalian people, Sir Admorran. If her Royal Majesty so agrees, the Dons will not stand against your army crossing our lands so long as you bypass the capital and stay on the northern border. I wonder, though, if you truly understand the nature of the conflict you intend to engage. It is a fool's errand, Sir Admorran. One that will only end in the deaths of both you—" He gestured to Nyori and the others. "And those who follow you. Can you bear the weight of such a burden?"
Marcellus met the older man's gaze evenly. "Nothing like this has ever been done before, Don Arellano. The akhkharu have freely invaded our lands, crept into our kingdoms, and none but a few have dared to fight them. Instead, we draw back and give rise to their reputation through folklore and tales of terror. No, Don Arellano. We will take no more. The stand must be made now."
The High Don nodded slowly along with his fellow Dons and ladies. "Then I will say no more."
"It is settled then," Queen Salliana said. "Your army has permission to pass through Hispalis along the northern border, Sir Admorran. And in a gesture of support, a legion of our infantry and two battalions of cavalry shall accompany you. Long has our lands been haunted by these creatures, and we would gladly join a united effort to destroy them. But for now, I implore you and your captains spend the night here in Salino and enjoy our hospitality, for your troops are weary from the long road and can rest in safety."
"We accept your gracious offer and thank you for your generosity, your Royal Majesty." He and his companions bowed low, but he still felt the Queen's eyes upon him.
I will be glad to leave as soon as possible.