JANISSARIES

Yanulf studied her carefully. "This is important to you."

"It is important to everyone on this world," Gwen said. "On this world, and on other worlds as well."

"Can you not send him a message?"

"None that he would believe," Gwen said. "Nor dare I tell anyone what must be said. It would be more unwise to write it. No, I must go myself, and quickly."

"I believe you," Yanulf said. "I will arrange what I can. But we will not travel swiftly, my lady, for you would not survive a swift journey. And we will require nursemaids for your child, and soldiers to escort you. This will take time."

"We have so little time," Gwen said.

"I will do what I can."

"It would be better if we waited," Camithon said. "The spring rains are barely over, and the mud will be thick. We will not be able to 'travel swiftly."

There were murmurs of assent from around the council table. Rick was pleased to see that Drumold and Balquhain said nothing, but waited for Rick to speak. "Neither will Sarakos," Rick said. "But more than that; we will not have sufficient food to wait longer and still carry supplies with us. Mason has trained the new troops well."

"I'd like more time with them," Mason said. "But I think they'll be steady enough."

"Thus we can gain little by delay," Rick said. He pointed to the map on the council table. "At noon on the day after tomorrow we march. We'll take the direct route along the road. At dawn tomorrow I want the scouts out ahead to make certain that news of our passage does not get to Drantos ahead of us. Now there are other details." He unrolled several parchments, and bowed to the boy seated at the end of the table.

"Majesty, these are decrees," Rick said. "The most important proclaims a general amnesty for all acts prior to this spring and guarantees that each man will inherit from his father. When we reach the borders of Drantos, these will be sent throughout the land as quickly as possible."

"You ask me to forgive the traitors who rose against my father," the boy said. His voice rose. "Never!"

"You must," Rick said patiently. "How else can we arouse the countryside against Sarakos? Think upon it, Majesty. Would you rather sit on your father's throne, or look at your kingdom from exile?"

''If every man inherits from his father," Calad said, "how do you propose to reward our clansmen and allies?"

"Sarakos has created vacant places enough," Rick said. "Lands without heirs, for those who would be bheromen of Drantos rather than clansmen of Tamaerthon. One of these documents gives Mac Clallan Muir the right to dispose of the ownerless lands in two counties. Another gives the lady Tylara the same rights within Chelm."

"My lord," the boy said, "the price of your aid comes high."

Rick said nothing. After a moment, Camithon said, "it is not so high as might he. We came to Tarnaerthon as beggars, and we leave with hopes of victory. Sign, lad. You will not see a better bargain."

Rick took the parchments to the end of the table. In the past weeks he had come to like the young king. The boy was intelligent enough to bow to the inevitable.

"What are these other parchments?" Ganton asked.

"One is a treaty of alliance between Tamaerthon and Drantos," Rick said. "It contains provision for the Roman Empire to join the alliance if Caesar wishes." And getting both Camithon and Drumold to agree to that had taken many nights of arguing; nights that Rick would rather have spent pla

"Another document states that you will live in the household of the lady Tylara during your minority," Rick said.

Ganton smiled. "Oh, I'd like that. She's nice," he said. He looked up at Camithon. "Since the Lord Protector agrees, we consent," he said formally. He took the pen and scrawled his name on each parchment.

One less thing to worry about, Rick thought. At least we've made a start on the mess I'll face after we win. If we win.

Gwen arrived at Tar Kartos to find the fortress town nearly empty except for Caradoc and a cornpanv of mounted archers.

"The lord Rick received the message that you were coming," he said. "He could not wait, but asked me to remain to greet you. He left this for you." The archer commander handed her a parchment.

Gwen unrolled it. "Gwen," it said. "I've already had Camithon send marching orders to the holdout forces in Drantos. This operation takes careful timing, and I've got to move now if we're going to link up with them. I can't wait for you.

"If you're still in a hurry to talk to me, Caradoc will escort you. You'll be taking your chances. I intend to make a fight of it as soon as I can, so you might be coming into a battle. I think we'll win, but nothing's certain in war.

"My advice is to stay in Tamaerthon. Even if we lose, they're unlikely to a

"I almost left orders to have them keep you in Tar Kartos, but I'm just scared enough of what you know that I want to leave that choice up to you. I hope you decide to stay." The parchment was unsigned.

She looked up to Caradoc. "How long will it take to catch up to them?"

"They left nine days ago," he said. "And they intended hard marching. We can travel faster than they, but I doubt we will reach them in much less than a ten-day."

Just possible, she thought. Yes. I may get him to call off this war before it's too late.

I may not get there in time, either. "I will come with you as soon as I have arranged quarters here for the nursemaids and my baby," Gwen said. "We must find Rick before he battles the star men."

They reached the rear guard of Rick's force seven days later. It took another day to pass through to the front. The countryside was wooded and hilly, and the single road was clogged with baggage carts and camp followers. Toward evening they reached an area where the countryside opened out and the road ran through broad fields. The army had deployed in battle array across a front three miles wide. Before they could reach the forward edge of the front, they were stopped at a roadblock. Despite Gwen's shouts and Caradoc's rank, they were firmly escorted back to a headquarters pavilion a kilometer behind the lines.

The headquarters was occupied by orderlies and staff officers. Messengers came and went in obvious preparation for a major battle on the next day. No one seemed to know why Rick had taken the light cavalry and several heavily laden wagons three kilometers farther up the road to the only village in the area.

Just before evening, Gwen heard shouting and then saw several groups of heavy cavalrymen ride northwest up the road. The sun was setting when she heard them returning. They were followed by the mounted archers at full gallop and, a few minutes later, by Rick and his personal guardsmen.

He paused to send messengers off with orders, then came into the pavilion. Gwen would not have recognized him if she hadn't heard him talking. He was dressed in chain mail and the scarlet cloak Marselius had sent as a gift. His helmet was the typical bullet shape with nasal guard worn by heavy cavalrymen, and he wore steel shoes and greaves rather than boots. As he came in, Jamiy helped him remove his helmet and gorget, but he kept the rest of the armor on. He sat at the table across from Gwen. "They told me you were here," he said. "If you'll excuse my saying it, you couldn't have come at a worse time."