A Country Falls (Greatest Thief 3) - Chapter 44: Chapter 44

It was midday, two days past the city of Hoask, when I had a moment alone with my brother. We were never truly alone, but it was as alone as we could be while surrounded by our own knights. Our horses kept pace with each other under the hot desert sun. The only thing that had made the desert tolerable were the winds that came off of the ocean. The winds were cool and kept the dust from thousands of feet and hooves down. And at night, when we set up camps and the wind blew over the shoreline, I could almost imagine I was home. The salty sea air smelled the same.
Today was not one of those nights. Instead, the air was still and the sky was cloudless. We had already accepted that we would need to halt our march much earlier in the day than originally planned. We couldn't have half the army weakened by dehydration and sunstroke.
But now wasn't the time to worry about when we would stop. It was time to enjoy Tandrin's proximity. Neither of us were wearing our best armour—it was far too heavy and hot. Our armour was being carried by pack mules not too far off. Still, Tandrin had managed to look regal. His tunic was as clean as possible given the dusty air. In Hoask, he had taken the time to have his hair and beard trimmed so that he looked presentable. Tandrin putting in effort to look good was comforting, in a way. I knew that part of it was for show, so the soldiers would see him as a pristine leader. A symbol they could rally behind. Someone worth their loyalty. It was all part of the infuriating game that was leadership and politics. But I found Tandrin's attempt comforting for a different reason. Simply because it was something he had always done. A habit that made him feel like my brother.
"Tandrin," I spoke up. "Do you—"
"—ever wonder what's going to happen after the war?" Tandrin gave me a tired smile. "Did I guess right?"
"More or less," I admitted.
"I'm finding it increasingly harder to think about what's going to happen after the war." Tandrin's answer was surprisingly honest. Not a hint of his typical diplomatic angle. "I'm not losing confidence in our people, mind you. It's just very painful to think about Meranda when she's so far away. And in her condition. I should be there with her, in case she needs me. Instead, I'm anxiously waiting for letters to know if she's all right. And even when I read one of those letters, I know they're weeks out of date."
"That's exactly how they all feel about letters from us."
Tandrin nodded. "I know. I suppose I wasn't prepared to be the one off fighting and simultaneously be the one waiting for letters. At least you know he's safe."
Knowing Finn was safe didn't stop me from thinking about him, or wanting him nearby. "He loves sunsets. He likes watching them from my window, or climbing onto the roof. Every evening, if I'm still awake to see it, I think about how much he would love watching the sun set over the sand."
"It is beautiful," Tandrin agreed. "Odd that he likes them so much, considering how terrible the view from Zianna is."
I smiled. "I think that's why he loves them so much. There was a day in Zianna, back when we first met, that he convinced me to climb on top of one of the buildings in the Order and watch one with him. It was pretty." I chuckled at the memory. "It was just another thing that made me realize something was off about him. He talked about how much he loved watching sunsets 'at home' and then he showed me what they're like in Zianna. It didn't make sense to be so enamoured by Zianna's sunset if he had seen proper ones."
"Is that when you knew?"
Tandrin's question was vague, but I knew exactly what he meant. "No. That part was more confusing. It wasn't until he reappeared after four years that I let myself even start to think about what I was feeling. And even then, it wasn't—"
Commotion nearby cut me off. My hand flew to the hilt of my sword, more an instinctual movement than a necessary one. It would be incredibly hard for a threat to actually reach us, surrounded as we were. And it wasn't a threat, just a young, exhausted man on a horse.
"Your majesty, my lord." His eyes darted between both of us. "A group of Deoran horse archers have been harassing the Southern flank. Lord Elex requests assistance."
"Elex is one of yours," Tandrin said. An order disguised as a comment.
Lord Elex was one of mine the way every man or woman on New Teltar was one of mine. "I know. I'll take care of it." By design, our flagbearers were close at hand. I waved mine over. "You heard that? Signal the cavalry. By your leave, Tandrin?"
My brother nodded. "I look forward to your report." Another disguised order. But this one was far more personal—survive.
I flashed him one last smile before pulling on my horse's reins and following after the messenger. I didn't have to look over my shoulder to know that a chunk of the cavalry had seamlessly turned to follow me.
I took the time to throw on some of my amour as we rode through the army. On the army's southern flank, the damage was immediately visible. The infantry had moved from neat marching lines into defensive circles. Every shield was pierced by an arrow or two. A lot of the men appeared wounded, and a handful of unlucky soldiers were already dead in the sand.
It wasn't the first time we had dealt with this sort of attack. It was one of Deorun's greatest strategies, and the reason King Edarius the First had failed to take more of Deorun during the Teltan Conquest. On their faster, desert bred horses, the Deorans could rush in, take shots at our men, and be gone before anyone had a chance to shoot back. Their tradition of poisoning their arrow tips meant they didn't even bother to aim—any small wound could become deadly.
We had many small cavalry units posted along the army's southern flank for exactly this reason. To ward off the Deorans, and in the case of an attack, to fight back. Lord Elex's unit was visible further out in the desert, having chased the Deoran archers away from the infantry.
I shouted orders at my flagbearer, who signalled to the men behind us. My unit split into three groups and spread out.
As we rode through the infantry, I spotted someone I knew and whirled my horse around to face him. "Ratenn!"
The older lord's eyes swept over me, then the groups of cavalry who were following my orders and riding past to flank the Deorans. He gave me a grim smile.
"Thank the Goddess. That boy—" Ratenn waved into the desert, towards the skirmishing riders, —is outmatched."
"See to your wounded," I said. The ragged messenger was still nearby, and I called over to him. "Go warn the medics."
He nodded and spurred his horse into a gallop. Ratenn nodded as well. "Thank you, my lord."
No matter how often I heard it, there were still some people my honorific sounded strange coming from. Sir Lord Ratenn was distant family, one of my father's cousins. He was twenty years older than me and a more experienced soldier. He should have been giving me orders, not the other way around.
What really made me any different from Elex? He was about two years younger than me, and had cut his last year at the Order short to join the war effort. But Ratenn called him 'that boy' while I got 'my lord'. Wealth was the difference. I was born a Tandran and Elex was born into a small noble family near Lothin.
Elex needed help. My momentary lapse in confidence had to be ignored. I gave Ratenn a curt nod and turned to ride out towards the fight.
Acen and Jalor rode on either side of me. Acen with a sword in hand, Jalor with a long javelin. My knights and I usually fought and trained on foot, which sometimes made me forget that Jalor had been a cavalryman first.
"Jalor!" I called as our horses kept pace. "Take the lead. We'll follow."
I knew he had heard, because he lifted his javelin and used it to signal to the men behind us. The thundering hooves made it nearly impossible for verbal instructions to be heard. Moments later, yells, screams and metal clashing together joined the cacophony as our group crashed into the fray.
Jalor pulled ahead. Caught up in the flow of the ride, Mandell and Evrik were swept along behind him. Acen stayed by my side, and I had to hope the twins and Joen were close behind. Then we were in the thick of the fighting and I couldn't keep track of where my men were.
Instinct took over, and things happened quickly. There were moments that stuck out—moments I would remember forever. A distinctly Teltish arrow flashing over my shoulder to kill a Deoran in front of me. My horse jumping over a dead desert horse. Barely ducking out of the way of a slash that would have surely killed me. Another sword slicing across my cheek as I killed the man holding it. Then, my horse collapsing.
I threw myself from the saddle and rolled out of the way to avoid getting trapped under the horse. Bleeding heavily from a wound in his neck, my horse thrashed on the already bloody sand. A red stain bloomed on the blue caparison. There was a strange moment of stillness, as if everything was happening in slow motion, as I watched my horse die. Then he stopped moving and everything around me was fast and loud again.
I didn't want on be on foot, surrounded by men on horseback. One of my own men was just as likely to trample me as the Deorans were. Turning, I grabbed at the reins of a nearby horse just as its rider listed over and collapsed into the sand, one of the twins' arrows buried in his neck. I hoisted myself into the saddle and gave Kor a quick wave of thanks.
Deorun didn't armour their horses nearly as much as we did. The horse was also smaller and more responsive. It spun around the moment I asked it to, but it didn't have the bulk to charge through other horses the way my horse had. I fended off a few more Deorans as I worked my way back to Acen and the twins.
"Do me a favour. Don't end up on the ground again," Acen said, relief evident in the taunt.
We were surrounded by more of our riders than Deorans, so I took a moment to scan the fight. I wiped sweat away from my eyes and squinted against the bright sunlight reflecting off of every piece of armour. Joen was still fairly close. Across the sand, Mandell was easy to spot on his huge horse. Jalor and Evrik were near him. We were all still fighting, and the fight was decidedly going in our favour. Already, some Deorans had taken off into the desert.
"We should reconvene with the others," I said. "Any sign of Elex?"
"I think he's with Jalor," Ender chimed in, gesturing with his bow.
I peered through the fighting again. There was a soldier near Jalor who could have been Elex, judging by his horse's caparison. I pulled my horse around and started towards them. There wasn't any fighting left on our edge of the skirmish, making it somewhat easier for us to head across the battleground.
We were slowed down when we met with fighting again. The Deorans who had chosen to stay instead of flee were fighting ferociously. We ploughed right back into the fight, eager to reach the rest of our knights and Elex.
I looked up at just the right moment. Or possibly just the wrong one. A cry of warning from Kor, an arrow zipping past me. The arrow flew across the fighting men and right into the chink in a Deoran's armpit. The man slid from his horse, crashing into Mandell's on the way down. Mandell's horse swivelled aside, turning so I could see Mandell's left side. Even from our distance I could see that his hand was a bloody mess. Not simply coated in blood from other people, it was his own.
We redoubled our efforts and reached him a moment later. Mandell caught sight of us and held up his hand, answering my question before I could even ask it. Three fingers were sticky with blood. Two were entirely gone.
"Later," was all Mandell grumbled. He tucked his wounded hand against his chest and continued fighting with his right hand.
I continued to ride closer to Jalor and Elex. My Deoran horse nervously tried to bolt for the open desert, but I reined it in and came up beside the other two just in time to help Elex dislodge the Deoran who was trying to pull him down. We fought side by side until a cheer rang over the field as the last few Deorans either died or fled.
My gaze quickly flickered between each of my men before I spoke to Elex for the first time. "You seemed to be holding your own before we arrived."
He shook his head. "That's a generous lie, my lord. We were going to lose. I just wanted to keep them away from the infantry long enough for support to arrive."
"And you did." I admired the honesty, and the intention behind what he had done. Elex's job had been to protect the infantry, and he'd done it. He had lost men, but aside for a large gash across his left thigh he looked relatively well-off. "We should go report to the King. Acen?" He appeared beside me. "Put someone in charge of the site. Jalor, I don't care if you have to tie Mandell up to do it, but get him to a medic."
Jalor nodded. "Yes, sir. And I'll drag you to one later if you don't get your face looked at."
Suddenly I could feel the wound on my cheek again, and I sighed. "I will," I promised.
It was later in the afternoon when Elex and I, trailed by Evrik and one of Elex's men, stopped outside of Tandrin's tent. We were both patched up. The cut along my jaw had been cleaned and a bandage was carefully pasted over it. The medic working on me, a Zian man about my age, had found numerous cuts and scrapes that he insisted on cleaning thoroughly. Elex's thigh was wrapped, as well as his left wrist. He walked beside me with a limp.
"I've never had to make a report to the King before," he said.
I always had such a hard time remembering who Tandrin was to other people. "It's nothing worry about, just follow my lead." With that, I nodded at Tandrin's knight, Cail, who opened the tent flap for us.
Tandrin's tent looked fancy on the outside, but on the inside it was bare. Some richer lords were dragging along furniture for their tents. Tandrin made a simple table and chairs out of storage crates, and slept on a thin mattress on the floor. He was leaning over his make-shift table when we walked in, writing. He pushed the letter aside when he noticed us.
"Tannix, Elex." He gestured at a few of the crates that served as chairs. "Take a seat. I'm glad you're both on your feet. Your men, Tannix?"
"All right for the most part." I sat down, and watched Elex gingerly lower himself without bending his hurt leg too much. I probably should have helped him. "Mandell took a bad hit to his left hand. Lost two fingers. But he won't accept leave, even for a week or two."
"No, of course he won't," Tandrin agreed. "And the calvary?"
"Nine dead, I'm not sure how many injured," I said.
Elex cleared his throat anxiously. "Your majesty, my unit suffered heavy losses. Not including myself, I have five men capable of fighting at a moment's notice. Everyone else is either injured or dead. I don't have the exact numbers for you, yet."
Tandrin nodded slowly. He wasn't trying to scare Elex, but I saw the other man tense. He probably expected a punishment of some kind. "Sir Lord Ratenn reported that your men forced distance between the Deorans and his infantry. He credits that for saving the lives of possibly hundreds of his men." His eyes flickered towards me, but he was still talking to Elex. "I know you feel guilty about the men you lost, but you did make the right decision today. It's never easy."
Elex swallowed. "Th... thank you, my king."
"You and your men are off duty for the next week. Recover and try to make peace with what happened."
"But—" Probably for the first time, Elex looked up to meet Tandrin's gaze. "How do I make peace with it? Those were my men. Men from Lothin, from around my villa. Some of them... I've known some of them since I was a child. And now I need to write to all of those families and explain why their sons and husbands and brothers are dead. About how I failed them. I'm not a good leader."
Tandrin looked at me again, and I understood. Elex was one of mine, which meant his men were mine, too. "Elex, the very fact that you want to write those letters shows that you are a good leader. When you write them, don't talk about the fight. Talk about how your men fought bravely to save hundreds of infantry. Let those families know that their men died heroically."
Elex didn't look at me, but he nodded. "Yes, Lord West Draulin."
"And those of us who survive live to fight another day," Tandrin added. "Go get some rest, Elex. Tandrix will finish your report."
"Yes, King Zianna." Elex got to his feet and limped from the tent.
The moment he was gone, Tandrin sat down. "I hate this. How was it, really? I put his unit on that patrol. Did I make a mistake?"
He wasn't supposed to ask me this kind of question. He had more experienced advisors. Like with the exchange with Ratenn, I was struck with the feeling that I didn't really deserve to be here. In this tent, with the king, answering questions about what went wrong. I was here because I was his brother, no other reason.
I shook my head as if it would shake away the thoughts, and tried to remember whatever I could about the fight. The little flashes that came back to me weren't helpful, but one detail was, and I focused on it. Forced it to become some sort of helpful observation.
"Elex is a good soldier. He was fighting really well when I joined him, and that was sometime after his leg wound. His men were outnumbered, but they weren't making it easy for the Deorans. And our horses aren't as quick on the sand." I thought of the horse I had ridden back to camp. "It might be worth trying to capture more of the Deorans' horses."
This time, when Tandrin nodded slowly, he was more thoughtful than the delaying tactic he had used with Elex. "Edarius the First never got a handle on the mounted archers. But you might be right. Our men might hold their own better with that same horse breed. I'll have someone look into it. Did I make a mistake with Elex?" he asked again.
"No," I said, unsure if I meant it or if I just knew what he needed to hear. "Elex and his men did as well as any unit posted there would have."
He looked at me, or through me, like he was trying to decide whether or not I was lying. Then he surprised me. "What do you keep touching?"
My eyes flickered down to my hand, caught in the middle of tapping my tunic. Right where the amulet Finn had given me was hanging. Immediately, I dropped my hand to my knee. "I keep touching it?" I asked warily.
"You've done it at least three times," Tandrin said. "When you mentioned Mandell's hand, when you talked to Elex, and just now. And earlier today, actually, when you told me about Finn's fascination with sunsets. What is it?"
There really was no reason to lie to him. I untied the cord around my neck and slipped the amulet from under my tunic. "I know you won't care, but I'm worried about insulting people." I dropped the amulet into his outstretched hand. "Finn made it for me. It represents Zianesa. He said she would protect me if I wore it. I'm not saying I believe in it, but it made him feel better. And it makes me feel better, too. It reminds me of him. I don't think the Goddess will mind."
Tandrin ran his thumb over the smooth metal. "She would have to be a very spiteful Goddess to hold something like this against you."
This wasn't a conversation I had ever imagined having, but suddenly I realized just how much I needed it. "Do you think she'd hold going to a Native temple and praying against me?"
Tandrin took his time coming up with an answer. "I think, if she's anything like we've always been taught, she'll understand you looking for help wherever you can find it."
It was only because I was staring at the amulet in Tandrin's palm that I noticed when my hand lifted to tap my chest. I tried to play it off, catching my right hand in my left and rubbing my palm as if it was sore. "It's just that... Finn's gods are very real to him."
Tandrin said nothing, just cocked an eyebrow.
"And," I continued, because I knew he wanted me to, "the Goddess is real to me. I guess I'm having trouble reconciling the two."
"So don't." Tandrin held out the amulet and I reached for it. "It doesn't have to be one or the other. Crelans believe in the Goddess and Roe. Zeltans believe in the Goddess and Zianesa. Everyone should be allowed to believe in whatever they want, and everyone else should respect those beliefs. If respecting Finn's beliefs means wearing an amulet or praying with him in a temple, I don't think you're doing anything wrong. If he went to a service at the cathedral with you, I don't think he'd be doing anything wrong."
I gazed down at the amulet while he spoke. When it seemed like he was done, I tied the cord around my neck again. "Thank you. You're good at these talks."
The corners of Tandrin's mouth almost smiled. "So are you. Now, I'm going to finish this letter to Meranda. You should write to Finn. Tell him all about how your good looks have been tarnished. He'll be devastated."
The abruptness of his taunt made me laugh. "I actually think he'll think it's a very handsome scar." I stood up and gave Tandrin a friendly thump on the shoulder. "Make sure you tell Meranda about what I did today. Here, I'll dictate the letter for you. 'Meranda, my love, I'm writing to you from just past Hoask. Today I was reminded about how Tannix is by far the greatest brother I could possibly imagine.'"
"'I would truly be lost without him," Tandrin continued dramatically, but then his tone shifted. "I do mean that, though. Now go take care of your men, write to Finn, and get some rest. I'm glad you weren't seriously hurt today."
"Thank the Goddess," I replied automatically.
"Thank them both."
I nodded and touched the amulet through my tunic, this time on purpose. "Thank them both," I agreed, before leaving his tent to find my own.