A thistle twisted in the air, landed between the ears of Gail’s pony, and teetered on the edge of falling before she snatched it between her fingers. Her first instinct was to place it behind her ear, but on second thought, she decided that was too feminine. Instead she slipped it behind the strap of her baldric across her chest as she had seen other Antan soldiers doing as they marched under the rain of blossoms entering the city of Karrith.
The city itself was different than she had expected. She had only seen one other capital and its citadel—Antas—but Karrith was impressive in its own right. Nothing had stood in the way of its expansion—no hills, rivers, or forests. It was surrounded by rolling plains and plowed fields. So instead of growing up, Karrith had grown out, a city of one- and two-story buildings that sprawled without order. The borders were defined by a wall that was thicker than it was high and marked at intervals with stout drum towers. The buildings within the city walls were built of stone, brick, and on the outskirts, humble sod, as timber was scarce in the southern kingdom and reserved for furniture, doors, railings, and banisters.
The castle, sitting on a gentle rise in the center of the city, was much like the rest of Karrith, wide and flat. Gail felt that she could toss a rock up and over the ramparts. At its gate, she could see the thickness of the walls through the long tunnel where King Oean and Queen Amberlyn rode through, their heads gleaming with crowns, their bodies glittering with precious stones, their embroidered cloaks draped over the hindquarters of their horses. They were a great contrast to the road-weary, dusty Talamar and his generals, but the king of Antas and his men had a panache of their own, riding up the avenues to the castle courtyard to the cheers of the people, the rain of flowers, and young maidens stretching out from the thronging crowds to steal kisses from knights, nobles, even the humble infantry man.
It rankled Gail no small amount. One would think they had vanquished their foes, when the opposite had been true: since their defeat in the canyon, the Maurvant had eluded them, limiting themselves to a few night raids. As a result, the generals had grown cautious. Instead of fighting a guerrilla war, they chose to consolidate numbers with the Karrithian army and force the Maurvant to face them in the open.
“I don’t like this,” Gail said, riding alongside Darid.
“The festival atmosphere? The people are grateful their brothers from the north have come to their aid,” he said, unable to suppress the joy on his face at arriving home.
“Our enemy has proved cunning and now we let them know exactly where we are.”
“We have the high ground,” he said, a daisy brushing past his shoulder.
Gail snorted, watching the daisy drift down to be trampled by horse hooves. “High ground might matter to traditional foes but the Maurvant are barbarians, not gentlemen.”
“True that,” Darid said, his smile fading. “You’ve been better at anticipating their moves than the king’s generals, but nothing is going to dissuade the old men from the advantage of fighting from a fortified city.”
She knew Darid was right. Her instincts had saved them once but it was hard to argue with the established practice of warfare, or the desperate cries of the Karrithians, no less King Oean himself who had pleaded for reinforcements in the city.
And so they had come, King Talamar leading. One would not have even suspected that he still recovered from his wound, posting high in his saddle as he rode up alongside King Oean. The kings clenched their hands together and held them high above their heads, north and south, young and old, in a bold display of unity. The crowd roared. Soldiers beat their shields. Steel flashed in the sunlight.
“It’s nothing but show,” Gail said.
“It is what kings do.”
“Cheers and flowers won’t keep them safe when the Maurvant attack.”
“No, we will,” Darid said, studying the low slung walls of the castle with a discerning eye. “These walls are low.”
“My thoughts exactly. What will we do?”
Darid rubbed the stubble on his face with the palm of his hand. “We will build.”