The Last Death of Tev Chrisini

THE LAST DEATH OF TEV CHRISINI

Jennifer Bresnick

ISBN 9780615622033

Aenetlif Press

Distributed by Smashwords

Copyright 2012 by Jennifer Bresnick

All rights reserved. This book, or any portion thereof, may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission from the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

CHAPTER ONE

There was always a war.  The teams sometimes rearranged themselves, and land would change hands when one player's fortunes dipped particularly low, but somewhere, for some reason, there was always a war. 

After close to seven hundred years, most of the participants were finding it hard to keep up.  The great empire of Zanuth-Karun had fallen, Umre and Agan were no more; Gidan had long since claimed neutrality, roundly denounced as a cop-out by all sides. 

Untold thousands of kings, generals, and heroes had gained the dubious immortality that comes from being killed in interesting ways.  The original grievances were all but forgotten, wearing down the fervent patriotism of centuries ago into a comfortable, familiar antagonism: a predetermined set of countries to be steadily and continuously despised.

Somewhere north of the Schism Line, just past the edge of the clearing in the dense pine forest where his regiment was camped, a soldier named Tev Chrisini reluctantly pushed the dice across the makeshift yasho table and let Neidril take his turn.

Are you sure, sir? Neidril asked. If I get more than a ten, there isn't a way you can make it up.

Just finish the round, Tev replied, gesturing for him to continue. I can cover it. Don't worry, he added when the man looked at him doubtfully.

You didn’t last time.

Yes I did. And I would have sooner, if she had just listened to me, Tev replied, smiling a little as he remembered the incident in a little border town a few months prior. The innkeeper’s wife had chased him out of the building, screaming and throwing a chicken at him – a live, squawking, terrified chicken – when she thought he was about to run out on a large debt to her husband.

He had no intention of doing so, of course, but she had been so furious over the possibility that his explanations were worthless to her. It hadn’t been his proudest moment, trapped in a corner, fighting to get control of the livid, flailing bird as the woman searched for more poultry, but it had been pretty funny.

But he wasn’t surprised that he was losing again, and badly. In fact, he thought, he ought to be used to it by now, since he was fighting for Kialdar again, and Kialdar wasn't doing quite as well as it could have hoped.

As a small satellite country with few of its own resources to devote to its defense, Kialdar had experienced its fortunes changing often enough to have given up any illusion of self-determination long ago. It had been targeted for centuries for its strategic importance, as it was sandwiched between the two dominant nations of the day: Osero in the south and its enemy in the north, the Ikeli kingdom of Awd Cian. 

Tev was a lieutenant for the moment, although in other armies he had been a common foot soldier, a major several times and once, due to an administrative error, a full colonel for almost six years.  He was gambling with his men out of sheer boredom, having found themselves in an isolated region somewhere in the middle of the country, even though it was strictly forbidden by the regulations of every place he had ever served.

But the officers wouldn't honor his notes anymore, leaving him without too many other alternatives until he had access to one of his accounts. He supposed he could give up the habit, but that was an option he was disinclined, at the moment, to explore. When they reached Echsir, assuming the Eidarhta hadn't already taken possession of the city, he could set his affairs to rights.

Tev sighed as he watched Neidril make his throw. He wasn't entirely sure why he was lending his services to Kialdar again, instead of joining up with one of the major powers with better benefits.  At the moment, most of the country was firmly in Ikeli territory, as it had been for some years now, but his company was bound for Echsir to try to push back against the recent Eidarhta gains.  The southerners seemed to be making quite an effort.

The fact that he had grown up in Kialdar might have had some influence. But he had changed sides many times, and had paid the ultimate price under more flags than he could count, for longer than he could remember.  Loyalty and patriotism had little to do with it anymore. 

The unfortunate truth was that Tev Chrisini was immortal. He bled like other men, felt the same pain, and died, in a manner of speaking, as they did. But sometime later, perhaps a few hours, or a day, he would wake up again and begin to heal from whatever wounds he had earned - only slightly faster than normal, to his everlasting annoyance - and even his deepest scars faded away eventually.

It hadn't been a choice of his; he hadn't sought it out, and he didn't know of anyone else who was in his position. But no matter how many times he ran into a hail of arrows, was the first to scale the walls of an enemy fort, or stood firmly on the front lines of a bloody engagement, it never seemed to do him any permanent harm.

He had, of course, gone searching for evidence that he had been dipped in an enchanted stream or cursed by an old crone at birth, after he had first realized his predicament nearly half a millennium ago. But nothing came up, he found no leads to follow, and eventually he became discouraged and his quest drew to a close. 

It was frustrating and difficult, since he had always known he was missing part of his earliest memories, which were undoubtedly the key to his origins.  His parents, ordinary laborers from the abundant and valuable salt mines in the Yene Mountains, had told him early on that he was a fosterling they had taken in - not an uncommon situation when the drawn-out war left so many penniless widows, and disease or childbirth took more - and they didn't know much about where he had come from. 

No mysterious amulets or ancient scrolls were left to him by his untraceable birth parents.  The village wise woman claimed ignorance, and the few learned scholars at both Ikeli and Eidarhta monasteries he had trusted to keep his secret safe had no answers for him - and none of them were interested in the birthmark on his left shoulder that looked a little like a crescent moon if he pinched the skin just right. But each one of them had ended the conversation by offering him all sorts of gifts and incentives to get him to fight openly on their side. 

He had never been willing to do so, since the churches tended to frown quite seriously on what they could not explain through their own devices, and he fell far outside of the usual scope of their teachings. But he had indeed fought for both north and south, in his time, not being too concerned with the ideology. 

War had become his profession, almost by necessity.  He had tried a few times to settle down, to learn a trade and make himself useful, but it only lasted for a decade or two at best, until boredom set in and suspicions were raised in the village.  Army service was a requirement in every country in any case, and in his situation, it seemed best to be some place where turnover was relatively high.  Long memories usually weren't a problem on the front lines.

But aside from the fact that he was at least five hundred years old, there wasn't much else unusual about Tev.  He was good at being a soldier, having benefited from long exposure, and he had picked up more than the usual compliment of languages, some living, and some he had watched die out.  He always looked the same: around thirty, of somewhat average build, with unremarkable brown hair, blue eyes, and commonplace but generally agreeable features. He tended to blend in almost everywhere he went and rarely stuck out in anyone's mind for long. 

Tev supposed he appreciated being immortal rather than not, and every forty or fifty years he allowed himself one act of desperate heroism that he invariably survived against all odds, as a reward for enduring the tedious isolation of his typical life. But as the years flew by him and blended into a long and anonymous past, he sometimes wished for the passion, fervor, and fear that drove his comrades to charge outnumbered onto the field or make hopeless last stands for more noble reasons than simply to break up the monotony.

He was feeling passion and fear at that very moment, but it was fear for his rapidly emptying wallet rather than his life. 

Six and three makes nine.  You still think you can beat that, sir? said Neidril.

There's always a chance, isn't there? Tev said, and concentrated on his play.

Behind him, Lerien rolled his eyes and sighed loudly.  Tev ignored him.  Lerien often tried to dissuade his friend from hitting the tables, to little effect.  He was Eidarhta originally, and their Council had always taken a strong stance against gambling, but Lerien wasn't particularly devout and mostly tried to keep Tev away because he found the game to be insufferably dull. 

Tev had met Lerien just about five years prior on a reconnaissance mission through the backcountry of Osero, when the Ikeli had advanced almost as far south as they had in the past sixty years.  Lerien was a partisan of sorts, an Osero native who provided information and acted as a guide for the difficult territory between the Maeglu River and the northern border. 

In the time since then, Tev had gathered that he was from an important family that had been hit hard at some point during the last major engagement in Osero's capital, Isata. But Lerien had never been very forthcoming about his origins, and rarely spoke about his upbringing or his past. 

Tev, however, had been forced to reveal his secret a few years ago, at the Sixteenth Battle of Usashon, after Lerien saw him take an arrow to the neck and walk away.  It was normally his policy, after being unequivocally killed, to switch sides and start afresh in a different country.  No one besides Lerien had ever asked to come with him before.

Tev released the dice and rolled a pair of ones.  Damn it, he muttered as the spectators around the table murmured their approval or distress and conducted discreet transactions based on the result. 

Hah!  That's fifteen pieces of silver you owe me! Neidril crowed.  Sir, he belatedly added when he saw Tev's glower.

Tev reluctantly paid up with the last of his remaining funds and left the table.  I almost had it, he said to Lerien with a sheepish grin.

You were fifty-six points away from winning, Lerien observed.

That’s closer than I usually am.

Lerien shook his head. I don't understand why you like to waste your money like that.

No, you probably don't, Tev replied. And I wouldn't say I like to waste it.  It's only a waste if I don't win it back.

You never win it back.

"I haven't won it back yet."

Lerien sighed again.  Right.  Well, I don't care.  It's your funeral.

You know, Tev said, it actually never is.

As they walked back through the camp, Tev noticed that the general mood was markedly more subdued than usual.  Everyone knew why.  A major offensive was scheduled for the next day, and they were to be a part of it. 

The rest of the army was to the east, packed up tight against the walls of Echsir, with the mountains behind them.  Awd Cian had not sent the troops they had been promised. It didn’t help that Osero had a fresh victory in the Heshen to boost morale, as well.  And then there was the declaration.  The uncertainty and dread were almost palpable.

Tev wasn't particularly optimistic about their chances, although it could be worse. At least they didn’t have a fool in charge this time. Their current commander was Lord Ausring, an accomplished Ikeli from Awd Cian, a minor baron from the heartland, who had been put in charge of the company just over a year prior.  He was well liked by the men: a decent, intelligent, middle-aged man with the same long, grim, hands-on experience of command that most of the nobility acquired if they managed to live past the age of twenty-five.  The incompetent, in such a war, never lived to regret their mistakes.  Unfortunately, neither did the people around them. 

Lord Ausring was smoking a pipe outside of his tent when Tev and Lerien arrived.

Reporting for night duty, my lord, Tev said.  Ausring had taken a liking to Tev after a recent minor clash with the enemy, when Tev brought down an opposing commander at two hundred yards with a well-placed arrow. He often selected him when a junior officer was needed for some task or another.

Very well, Chrisini. Carry on, Ausring replied, and knocked ash from his pipe.  Sentry for the both of you, I believe, in your respective fashions.  Our old friends have been making inroads into the area for some time now, and we're not too far from them. They may send a foray against us in the night, so have your fellows keep their sharpest eyes out.

Yes, sir, Tev said, and went to gather his men.  He liked sentry duty.  In a camp full of thousands – soldiers and their women, screaming babies, bellowing cattle, blacksmiths, horses, creaking wagons ferrying things to and fro at all hours - it was a rare chance for a bit of peace and some time to himself. 

Even though the novelty of solitude had long since worn off for him, it was the quiet that he really valued.  The sounds of the camp were so familiar as to be second nature to him by this point, almost beyond hearing, but he sought out the cottony silence of the lonely woods at night whenever he could.

Besides, tonight he had something important to think about.  A messenger had reached the camp that morning, bearing a proclamation signed by the High Councilor of the Ikeli Church himself.  There was to be a ceasefire, beginning at sunset the following day. 

The news had spread instantly, sparking a hundred opinions and even more questions. There had been occasional armistices in the past, lasting hours or a few days.  When plague struck the frontier during the Long Year, a truce had even lasted four months, until there were men fit to fight again.  This time it was to be for three weeks, as envoys from both sides traveled to meet and discuss terms in the neutral city-state of Gidan.

This was the rarest of rare events.  Delegations from the two churches hadn't met face to face publicly for hundreds of years.  Neither side would dare violate the ceasefire under those circumstances, but until it went into effect at the next sunset, both armies had a vested interest in gaining as much ground as possible.  The next day's offensive had been pushed up by nearly two weeks, Awd Cian's failure to participate notwithstanding, just so the northerners could drive the Eidarhta as far south as they possibly could. 

No one was convinced it would end up being that far, but the Ikeli commanders were determined to give it a try.  They had no desire to let the Eidarhta sit in Echsir during the peace, building up defenses and siphoning off its supplies to Osero.  Echsir was heavily fortified and well garrisoned still, but they were not about to take any chances against what was rumored to be a particularly impressive Eidarhta force just south of the city.

Tev wondered, as he settled into his post under the leafy, spreading branches of a sycamore tree, if the peace would be at all productive.  There had been conflict for so long, and both sides had been so stubborn over an innumerable list of ancient grievances, that it seemed unlikely they could agree that they never agreed on anything. 

Politics had never been much of a concern for him, since his loyalties were negotiable, but he knew that at its root, it had to do with the mysterious death - some said murder - of the last Emperor of Zanuth-Karun, a man called Jh'taith. He had been an almost mythical figure even during his lifetime, a sorcerer whose explorations into the secret heart of being turned him from the architect of a golden period of peace and prosperity into an obsessive recluse, overtaken by strange desires.

His absence from his throne during his illicit studies allowed divisions in the empire to expand unchecked, until his own death, whether by nature or design, spelled the end of any appearances of harmony and sparked the great war.

The inevitable collapse of such a vast power, already stretched to its limit by distance and time, came all the sooner for the greed of the great men of the age: the Emperor's sons and generals carved off immense swathes of land for themselves, desperately trying to cling to whatever they could as cities were traded and alliances were formed, exploited, and betrayed.

As the Empire crumbled into warring states, so had the Eidarhta church, a strong, unifying force for thousands of years. The believers in the complex feuds of the gods they worshiped were not immune from the same fate. The church of the Eidarhta, whose roots stretched far back into antiquity, had split in two, unable to withstand the stresses placed upon it by the quarrels of its flock, and the generous patronage of various upstart kings.

In the north, the dissidents became known as the Ikeli, quickly gaining followers under a new generation of charismatic leaders eager to make their mark. Soon they were fairly equally matched and as much at odds as anyone else, providing funding and a cry to rally behind: a divine justification for the deeds of men, who did not waste the permission the churches gave them to slaughter in the name of their deity of choice.

The Eidarhta’s decision to symbolically excommunicate some of the more popular leaders of the northern movement had the opposite of the intended effect, and less than a hundred years after the Empire's fall, the Ikeli announced their official split.

Not willing to lose the rich pasture lands and farms of the heartland to Ikeli influence and Ikeli trade, the Eidarhta had little trouble convincing the southern coalition of nations to react with military force, persuading Osero to seize the land around the Yene Mountains, which became the first major action of the longest and costliest war that the world had ever seen.

Everyone knew that part of the history by heart, although it took a special kind of person to keep track of everything that had happened since.  But not even the most ignorant and illiterate among the Kialdari army could deny that this truce signified something unusual - something that could change the course of the war completely. 

Tev was surprised that relations between the churches had thawed enough to allow such an event to take place.  There were always rumors of reconciliation floating around, but they had only been an idle hope. It was undoubtedly a delicate and complex undertaking, and it would be interesting to see how, or if, it would work.

Lerien appeared silently next to Tev at his post, breaking into his train of thought.  He did that some times, much to Tev's annoyance.  Despite his countless years of woodcraft, he could still be taken by surprise. 

Gods, Lerien, I wish you wouldn't sneak up on me like that.

Sorry. There's a company of Eidarhta not five miles away, probably bound for the city as well, but everything seems quiet enough on their side.  It doesn't appear that they’re planning anything.  The horses are unsaddled.

Tev rolled his eyes, a futile gesture in the dark.  Show off.

That's my job.

Right.  So tell me what you think of this ceasefire.

Lerien shrugged.  "I don't think it'll mean anything in the long run.  The fact that they're talking is good, I suppose, but I hear too much talk every day to think it’s worth much.

I hadn't heard any rumors from the other side about it, though, which is interesting.  I think it caught them by surprise as well, and I'm not sure what to make of that.  Usually we know what they're planning before they've even made up their minds.

True enough.  I don't know what to think of it myself. Last time they organized something like this, it was because something really dreadful had happened. That was what, four hundred years ago? I'm not exactly encouraged by that, especially since this is coming out of nowhere.

Four hundred years? You don't mean -

Tev nodded. I can't help having a funny feeling about it.

All right, Lerien said uncertainly, "but you have a funny feeling thinking you'll win at yasho every time, too.  That one never comes to anything either."

I'm sure you're right. But you know, for someone who could be hanged as a spy every time you go on patrol, you sure are set against gambling.

I'm set against losing.  That's different, remember?

Just before dawn the regiment awoke, and by the light of weakly fluttering torches they formed up for the march.  It was less than twenty miles to Echsir, where the main army was encamped.  Ausring and his men were to form a reserve wave of attack and would be vital if the southerners pushed back more strongly than anticipated. 

It was probable, according to Lerien, that they would.  They were sure to know that the northerners had vastly inferior numbers. Furthermore, if the upcoming summit was going to be held in Gidan, the Eidarhta would be very interested in making sure their envoy traveled through as little hostile territory as possible.  Gidan was almost two hundred miles north of the current front line, and although they could not hope to gain that much ground in the next year, let alone by the next sunset, Lerien had convinced Ausring that they would try.

It was still early morning when they reached the main army, which had ranged itself outside of the city.  The walls of Echsir were thirty feet high and ten feet thick, but against the sheer and forbidding slopes of the mountains that ringed them, the city's mighty defenses looked a pale and puny parody of the ancient snowy giants that pierced the sky. 

There were six thousand men garrisoned there, and Ausring had brought the scant five hundred he could muster.  Eight thousands faced them across the plain, freshly supplied from Isata.  Tev was not optimistic.  With the River Imarhon at their backs and the wall of the mountains behind the Ikeli, the Eidarhta attack would be little more difficult than crushing tin on an anvil. 

Chrisini and Lerien, follow me if you please, Ausring called to them from his horse as they were helping to set up some tents. I must wait on the governor and let him know we have arrived. They jumped back on their horses and followed him towards the city.

Are there more men in the city, my lord? Tev asked as they passed through the gate.

That is one of the things I mean to find out, Ausring responded, though I doubt it.  Governor Yijare has always been overly sanguine about numbers, Lieutenant, although he is new to this particular command.  And how he has survived thus far with such an attitude I'm sure I don't know, he muttered under his breath.  You are not to speak unless I say so, he continued out loud. The governor can be testy about matters of protocol.  He is very well with the Church at the moment, and it won't do to cross him.  Follow my lead and he won't get you killed until you and the rest of this damned army get out on the field.

The governor's palace was a large building made of tawny mountain stone, perched on a rise in the center of the city, and surrounded by meticulously manicured grounds.  Tall, round towers stood above the main house, with gardens growing on their flat roofs. A wide courtyard greeted them as they passed through the arched gate.  They were shown into the council chamber, richly decorated with elegant tapestries and dark, polished wood, the captured banners of enemies from ages past hanging from the rafters, their proud emblems long since obscured by dust and the ancient, unreachable gloom.

Governor Yijare was a small, compact man with long silver hair, deep-set eyes, and a hooked nose.  He held himself very straight as if to compensate for his lack of stature, and moved with a constant nervous energy that suggested he didn't think it worked.

Lord Ausring, what an unparalleled pleasure to see you this morning, Governor Yijare said briskly.  I see you've brought your men to me in a timely manner.  Well done.

Thank you, Governor, I’m sure. I don’t believe twenty miles constitutes a very difficult journey.

Yes, quite.  You know Colonel Berrict, of course, and his staff.  You may not be familiar with Major Ksei.

No, I don't believe we've met.  How do you do, Major, Ausring said, inclining his head.

A pleasure, sir, Ksei replied without a smile.  He was a tall, spare man in battered and well-worn armor with curiously light colored eyes.  Tev took an instant dislike to him, founded on nothing much more than the stiff and unfriendly way the man was standing, as if he'd rather be anywhere else and didn’t care who knew it.

Yes, Yijare was saying, the Major here is very well qualified for the task.  I will be lending him to you as an adviser, Ausring.  See that you make use of him.

I am sure I can find something appropriate for him, Governor, said Ausring diplomatically.

Very good, very good, Yijare replied, dismissing or not noticing the displeased edge to Ausring's voice.  Let us glance at the map while we're all here, eh?  I mean to make a straight pass at 'em, one good solid line all the way across.  No fancy maneuvers, just what's needed.  Sweep 'em right back to the river the old fashioned way, that's what I say.

But surely, not when we're so outnumbered - Lerien blurted out before Tev elbowed him in the ribs.

What was that?  Who are you? Yijare snapped, spinning around.

I'm -

One of my exploring officers, Ausring interjected smoothly, shooting Lerien a warning look. My expert on everything from the Schism Line to the Ciardmor.  Lerien Ardryn-mor, originally of Osero.  Invaluable intelligence.

Well, Yijare said peevishly, keep him in line, won't you?  I won't be contradicted by some half-converted whelp from the wrong side of the river. Tev could see Lerien was obviously insulted by the remark, and with good reason. But he knew better than to speak again and grudgingly let the slight pass.

There's nothing wrong with forming the line. Nothing at all, the Governor continued.  With our back to the mountains and nowhere for the enemy to run, it's as good a plan as any I've heard.  They don't even have any cavalry!  What say you, Colonel Berrict?

A capital plan, sir, Berrict said slowly, provided that -

Just the word I was looking for.  Capital indeed, Yijare said.  Yes.  Ausring, if it looks like any part of the line is about to falter - which it won't, of course, ha-ha - you are to reinforce it with detachments of men by the hundred, is that clear?  I am leaving it up to you, with Major Ksei's advice to be followed most strictly, to judge where you are needed.

A responsibility I shall take on with the utmost caution, sir, Ausring responded.

Excellent.  If that is all, gentlemen, perhaps you should see to your men.  We will begin the attack in one hour.  One hour, sharp.  Good day to you all.

The officers filed out of the chamber and stepped out into the bright morning sunlight.  Major Ksei immediately went his separate way with a silent bow.  Lord Ausring and Colonel Berrict rode wordlessly back towards the camp until they had left the governor's grounds.

I was going to say that it was a capital plan provided that we had three times the numbers of our opponent and our enemy was a troop of little girls, Berrict observed.

Yes, I thought it might have been something like that.  Just as well he stopped you, I should think, Ausring said. You wouldn't want to have to defend your reputation against him at the moment. The Bishop of Saivesine positively fawns over him, from what I gather.

There will be no saving my reputation at any rate in an hour and fifteen minutes, Berrict said sourly.  I never heard such a plan from anyone who wasn't a raw recruit.

Lerien here believes they will fight hard, as well, more's the pity.

Berrict sighed.  Exploring officers.  What I wouldn't give to have one of those left.  Yijare took mine away.  Told me there was no use sneaking around behind the lines when the enemy was right in front of you.  And to say such a thing to your face, he said sympathetically to Lerien, shaking his head. "Almost intolerable. But I admire your restraint. I should learn more of it myself.

He's a terror, Ausring, let me tell you.  Throws men away like they grow on trees.  I've been stripped of most of my real authority, and I can say nothing because he is under the protection of the high command.  I haven't fought and bled for the Church for twenty years to be superseded by a witless fop who couldn't point a sword the right way if it was already stuck in a man and his hands were glued to the hilt!  A few political connections and we must all bow and scrape before him and his bloody armchair soldiering.

Berrict, really, Ausring admonished.  Contain yourself.  This is not the place.

I suppose you're right.  You always were the one who knew how the wind was blowing.  But on one last subversive note, I will tell you to beware of that Ksei chap.  He might be Yijare's favorite, but he's no one else's, if you take my meaning.

I believe I do.  But come, now.  Whatever awaits us, we must see to the troops.  I wish you the best of all possible luck, my friend, Ausring extended his hand, which Berrict shook.

You as well, Ausring.  You as well.

Will you be joining the line with us? Tev asked Lerien as he oiled his sword.  I can promise it'll be a sight you'll never see again.

As tempting as it is, Ausring has me running messages.  You'll have to manage by yourself this time.  That Ksei fellow really is in charge of dispatching your reinforcement parties.  A note came right after we got back to camp. Yijare wasn't sure Ausring had understood.  The messenger understood a thing or two by the time Ausring was done with him, let me tell you.

Ksei?  That man wouldn't smile if he got an honorable discharge and ten thousand guineas for staying out of harm's way.  He'll get us all killed.  Using the term 'us' very loosely here, that is, he added.  He fiddled with his sword belt for a few moments in silence.  Would you, uh, he started. I mean, if I have to leave, would you want to come with me again?  I haven't been up to Lisastya for a while.  It's usually pretty quiet, unless the tribes are acting up, and the cavalry is really something.  There's always the Llorani in Etzlim, or even Dovriun if you want some action.  I hear the Mariosa situation is heating up.  Nice sea breezes down that way, too.

Lerien took a moment before answering. I don't know, Tev. I appreciate the offer, but I'll have to think about it.  I have a lot of freedom here, you know.

Of course.  I know.  Well, the option is open if you want to give it a thought.

I will.  Now, how about you go and find your men?  They've got to be around here somewhere.

Tev was stationed on a low rise above the flat plain that surrounded the approach to the city, where he could see the entire field in front of him.  The long, straight row of six thousand blue tunics, two deep, was an impressive, textbook display, intended to intimidate the enemy as it marched slowly and deliberately in perfect unison towards the opposing line. 

But the Eidarhta, as educated as they were, had apparently never read that particular textbook.  They had a significant number of archers in the rear, and surely there would be cavalry waiting to be released, whatever the governor might have said.

They were probably hidden behind a strand of thickly-gathered pine trees on the left flank.  The main bulk of their soldiers were arranged into several rusty red-coated columns, positioned to pierce the enemy’s fragile line and force it to collapse in on itself as it advanced.

Tev shook his head.  It was a terrible situation for them, and everyone but the Governor seemed to know it. Nearby, Ausring's horse skittered as his fists tightened on the reins.  Major Ksei was explaining something to him.  Even though Tev was out of earshot, it was clear from his face that Ausring did not like what he was hearing.

Drums began to beat and the line started to advance from the city walls.  Behind him, his troops were beginning to mutter restlessly.

Sergeant Iroda, he said without turning around, tell the men to shut up.

Yes, sir.  Iroda saluted, and shouted an order.  The noise stopped.

Tev turned around after gazing at the field for a short while.  He needed them to stay steady.  He there was no way any of them would march down that hill to shore up a faltering line if they were this nervous.

Corporal Neidril.

Yes, sir?

I hear you've recently come in to a bit of money, Tev said.  Grins and snickers spread down the row.  Everyone knew about his little vice.  Most of them had benefited from it at some point.

I have, sir.

Took it off some poor bugger playing cards, no doubt.

No, sir, said Neidril, looking him in the eye.  Took it off some poor bugger playing dice.  Sir.

I see, Tev said mildly. I hope you gave him a chance to win it back.

A few chances, sir.  He didn't seem to make much use of them.

Well, maybe he'll do better the next time.

I hope to have a chance to find out, sir, said Neidril sincerely.

A shout from the battlefield drifted up to them.  The sky darkened for a moment as a hail of arrows floated almost lazily towards the Ikeli.  As if on cue, men all along the line crumpled to the ground.  The insistent beating of the drums propelled those still standing through the haze of screams that soon gathered to cloak the battlefield like a shroud. 

Attendants scuttled to and fro like ants, ferrying the wounded back to the city where women waited with bandages and priests with last rites.  The line held.  Through the second and third sallies by the archers, the line held, although it was becoming increasingly ragged.  The enemy was concentrating their volleys on the left side, and a gap appeared in the formation just before they passed the trees.

Tev saw Lerien ride up to the knot of staff officers surrounding Lord Ausring.  Ksei leaned over to say something to Ausring, who tensely nodded.  Lerien rode away with a little wave of acknowledgment in Tev's direction, and Ausring dispatched the first group of one hundred to the front.  Ksei said something else, and headed off towards the city.

When the detachment had almost reached their position, Tev saw a flash of silver in the bright sunlight.  All of a sudden, two hundred horses poured from the copse of trees, spears leveled, and cut off the reinforcement party, tearing it to ribbons.  Ausring cursed loudly. 

The men on the line turned to face this new threat and broke rank, scattering in front of the thundering hooves of the well-trained horsemen.  Another series of salvos from the archers sealed their fate, and in mere minutes, at least three thousand soldiers were obliterated, shattering any hope of salvaging the situation.

The rest of the men, finding themselves cut off from their retreat to the city by the cavalry on one side, and facing the still-intact thousands of the enemy on the other, panicked.  While their officers shouted uselessly at them to form a square to fend off the horsemen, the Ikeli soldiers ran, some towards the city walls, others towards the foothills of the mountains in the west.

Lerien came flying up the hill at a gallop to deliver another message.

Finally! he heard Ausring roar, then he said something to Lerien privately that he couldn't catch.  All detachments follow me! he yelled.  We must do what we can.

Tev drew his sword.

Bloody hopeless, Neidril muttered behind him.

Shut up, Neidril, he said.  I know you have friends down there.  We have to do something.

The four hundred of them charged down the hill and into the fray.  It was an unimaginable chaos.  There were still a few thousand Ikeli soldiers on the field, but they were scattered and fragmented, unable to find a rallying point.  One of the enemy columns had been ordered to advance, and their solid, disciplined mass was impossible to penetrate.  Tev could no longer think about strategy as they smashed into the side of what was quickly becoming an unequivocal rout. 

It was simply sword work from that point on.  Tev caught sight of a flag waving a few yards away, and briefly saw Colonel Berrict hacking at an unhorsed cavalry major, surrounded by a few of his personal guard.  Tev tried to push towards them, but the opening almost instantly closed itself up.  The many thousands of enemy soldiers had swallowed up Ausring's men, and he could only see the dull Eidarhta red around him. 

A sharp slice across his arm brought him back to the immediate present.  The battle had eddied away from him temporarily, giving a horseman enough room to take a swing at him.  It wasn't serious, more a nuisance than anything else, but he needed to pay attention. The man had already turned his mount and was poised for a second pass. 

Tev raised his sword.  He was lucky the other man had already broken his spear: it was difficult enough to face him with the advantage the height gave, and the extra reach a spear shaft afforded would have added greatly to the challenge of countering him on foot. 

As the man gained speed coming back towards him, Tev steadied himself in position, squarely in front of the horse's flying hooves as it charged.  Just as the mounted man raised his arm up to strike, he twisted out of the way and clubbed the horse in the mouth with his hilt in both hands, as hard as he could.  The horse reared up in distress, the rider was thrown, and as he lay on the ground, slightly stunned, Tev finished him off with a quick stab before turning his attentions back to the field. 

There was not much left to see. He could feel the battle flowing away, rushing towards Echsir as the last of the Ikeli fled the hopeless cause.  Tev went along with them.  He knew Ausring and Berrict, if they lived, would try to make a stand with the security of the walls at their backs - if there were enough men left with the desire to fight.

He saw Ausring's flag waving by the gate and ran towards it, grabbing fleeing men and pushing them into line, shouting at them to stop running, forcing them to stand and prepare for the inevitable oncoming assault, which, to his great surprise, did not come.  He stopped suddenly, puzzled.

The Eidarhta did not seem to be actively pursuing them. Instead, they were withdrawing quite some way down the field, towards their camp on its southern edge.  He didn't understand. It would be no trouble for them to completely crush the remains of the Ikeli, and they had an even chance of taking Echsir itself by sunset, but they did not advance. 

Tev found Ausring, bloodied and limping but still in control, at the gate and stood by him.  He did not see Lerien.

Why are they not attacking? Ausring said to himself.  Do they mean to bottle us up in the city during this blasted truce and starve us out when it is over?  He stared at the Eidarhta army, stationary on the field, lost in thought, as confused as his men, who whispered nervously amongst themselves.  Eventually he looked around and took stock of his resources, not looking very pleased when the task took far less time than he would have liked. Ah, Chrisini.  Good. What do you know about Echsir's defenses?  Its preparedness?

Not much of use, my lord.  Lerien is the one –

Lerien is with the governor.  I am expecting him back presently.  Yijare was wounded by an arrow while watching the battle and is incapacitated.  Berrict is dead.  I seem to be in charge right now, damn it all, and I can't make a move if the enemy refuses to fight.

Tev let pass the likelihood of being seriously wounded by an arrow from atop the city's walls almost half a mile away. It must be the truce, my lord.  Perhaps they will send a messenger.

If they don't, I might.  By the way, Chrisini, since there is almost no one else, I will have to make you a captain, if you don't mind.  Arendroth and Sadil were both killed, and I need good officers now more than ever.

Thank you, my lord. I certainly don't mind.

I didn't think you would, Ausring said dryly.

Yes, sir.

The Eidarhta sent an emissary towards the city only minutes later, as Ausring was more thoroughly reviewing the few soldiers who had gathered at the gates and were still fit to continue on.  He beckoned to Tev, and the two of them rode out a little way to meet the horseman, approaching them with a white flag attached to his sword.

The flag is hardly necessary, Ausring said. Do they think we will try to provoke them at this point?  He cleared his throat as the man reached them.

Whom have I the honor of addressing? the messenger asked.

Lord Ausring of Awd Cian, currently in command of these proceedings.

The messenger inclined his head.  My lord, I bring greetings from my general, Duke Polormi.  May I assume you have received word of the impending ceasefire?

Yes, we had news of it yesterday. Sunset tonight, I believe.

Quite so, my lord.  In light of this unexpected development, and as a gesture of goodwill on the occasion, Duke Polormi invites you to collect your wounded and move into the city, if you wish, without fearing a siege while the truce lasts - and for one week afterward.  My army will withdraw two miles and remain there until the time is up.  We are striking camp as we speak.

I thank you for your consideration and extend my best compliments to the Duke, Ausring said stiffly.  "Be assured we will make no attempt on you from now until the