Conqueror’s Moon: Part One of the Boreal Moon Tale. Julian May

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СКАЧАТЬ are those in a unique position to render service to Cathra — to redress the atrocious insult done to our kingdom by Didion, and assure the security of the entire island.’

      Whisperings. None of them were fools. Unlike the intrepid northerners, who had always borne the brunt of defending Cathra’s border, the lords of the south had grown complacent and soft from long years of martial inactivity. They were businessmen, tending to their varied commercial ventures, not fighters. With the coming of the Wolf’s Breath, worried by the decline in their private fortunes and too shortsighted to understand the potential danger from the Continent, the southerners were in no mood to spend money re-equipping and training their knights and thanes as an invasion host.

      ‘As you all know,’ Conrig continued, after a pause, ‘the impetus for the Edict of Sovereignty came originally from me. From my youth I have idolized Emperor Bazekoy the Great, who unified the nations of the mainland, brought civilization to our own island, and chose to die here for love of it. It has long been my dream to bring all of Blenholme together and return it to the glory of Bazekoy’s time.’

      ‘The Emperor,’ Munlow Ramscrest grumbled, ‘has been dead for over a thousand years … most of him, at any rate! And the Blenholme of his day no more resembles our own than children’s fables resemble the sacred Chronicle.’

      ‘Count Ramscrest speaks the unwelcome truth, as usual,’ the prince conceded, to universal amusement. ‘Our world is more densely populated and our politics more complex. Nevertheless, even the marble-domes on my father’s Privy Council eventually agreed that the time was ripe for a move to Sovereignty. Three years of the Woff’s Breath have brought tragedy to Blenholme — but also an unprecedented opportunity. Didion is at the brink of civil war. The gold-coffers of the Sealords of Tarn are near empty with the closing of the mines. Even in Moss—’

      ‘Who cares about Moss?’ Baron Wanstantil Cloudfell sneered. He was a haughty beanpole who dressed with great elegance and affected a foppish manner. ‘Let the Conjure-King use sorcery to make the sun shine on his stinking swamps, and may he have much joy in the fulfillment. My prince, don’t tell me you’d bother taking that soggy nest of magical mountebanks into the Sovereignty!’

      ‘As it happens, Lord Cloudfell, the kingdom of Moss would play a crucial role in unifying Blenholme.’

      ‘The hell you say!’ Beorbrook exclaimed. ‘Does this scheme of yours depend on vile Mossback enchantments, then?’

      The prince fixed the earl marshal with a level look, saying nothing, until the veteran general looked away, his jaw clenched and his brow like thunder.

      ‘Hear His Grace out, Parli,’ urged Vanguard. ‘It’s true there are arcane elements in his plan, but no invoking of the Beaconfolk or anything else an honest warrior could scruple at. Carry on, Godson.’

      ‘Very well,’ said the prince. ‘As you know, the three Wolf’s Breath years have by no means left our own land of Cathra untouched. Our fields have produced significantly less grain. Our exports to Tarn, our favored — and wealthy — trading partner, left almost nothing for Didion. That nation has been forced to import foodstuffs from the Continent.’

      ‘And the required coin of payment,’ said Count Norval Swanwick impatiently, ‘is Didionite warships. Yes, yes, and all of us know what use Foraile and Stippen might make of them. Your Grace isn’t the only prince harking back to Bazekoy’s days of glorious conquest. The emperor was, after all, a Forailian by birth.’

      ‘It was to squelch such harkings,’ Conrig said, ‘that I pressed for the Edict of Sovereignty.’ And he quoted from memory. ‘ “For the benefit and security of all Blenholme, and to thwart those Continental opportunists who might think to take advantage of the current natural disaster afflicting our island, the Kingdom of Blencathra extends its merciful hand to the suffering people of its neighbor, Blendidion, and vouchsafes it prompt paternal succor and relief, as Blendidion acknowledges vassalage in the new, benevolent Sovereignty of High Blenholme, and accepts Olmigon Wincantor as its Liege Lord.”’

      ‘But they didn’t, did they?’ Viscount Skellhaven pointed out, with sour satisfaction. ‘Not without a Cathran army and a train of grain wagons coming at them over Great Pass along with your precious Edict.’

      Even though he had ridden into Castle Vanguard on horseback like all the others, he wore salt-stained seaboots, the wide pantaloons favored by sailors, and a silk scarf tying back his long hair. His attire was of good quality but shabby, as if to reinforce his perennial pose of being ill-used and unappreciated by the Crown.

      Beorbrook said, ‘We all know how the King of Didion responded to Cathra’s declaration of Sovereignty. He killed our people and stuck their heads on pikes above Mallmouth Bridge for the crows and seagulls to eat, and fed their poor bodies to the crabs.’ The earl marshal tossed off the remainder of his wine, and his son Olvan hastened to bring more, then served the few others who lifted their cups with all that was left in the last bottle.

      ‘It was six months ago that my sons and the others died,’ Beorbrook went on. ‘The Crown’s blockade of Didion isn’t working — no offense, Skellhaven! — because there’s too much water to cover and the bastards are better sailors than we are. Now that Achardus knows for sure we’re out to topple him, you can be sure that he’ll be on the lookout for a land invasion as well. I can assure Your Grace that the Didionite mountain fortresses beyond Great Pass are manned and alert, in spite of the terrible conditions prevailing in their lowlands. If need be, King Achardus will rally the timberlords from Firedrake Water. Their thanes and stump-jumpers fill their bellies with venison and wildfowl rather than dearly priced bread, and they’re in fighting trim despite the Wolf’s Breath. It’s only in the valley of the River Malle and in the large coastal cities that folk are starving. Now, it seems to me that we’ve already missed our best opportunity to strike at Didion. We should have been poised to come at them from both sea and land if they refused to accept the Edict of Sovereignty.’

      ‘The King’s Grace deemed such a course too expensive,’ Conrig said, smiling without humor.

      ‘Of course he did,’ Skellhaven said bitterly. ‘Same reason Ingo and me never get the brass we need to do a proper job patrolling the northern sealanes! The king won’t raise taxes on the rich merchants and trader-lords who curry his favor.’

      Count Norval Swanwick climbed to his feet. Vanguard’s son and heir was an experienced battle-leader who had often fought at the side of the earl marshal, defending both Great Pass and the Wold Road to Tarn. ‘May I speak, my prince?’

      ‘Please do, my Lord Swanwick. All of us know that you and your valiant brothers have fought many a skirmish against Didionite robber-barons and Green Men. I have great respect for your opinion.’

      ‘Here’s what I’m afraid will happen if we invade Didion by land: At the first hint that we’re on the move, their arcane talents as well as their best fighters will rush to meet us at Castlemont beyond Great Pass. Even if we’re aided by the magical flummery of Mossland’s Conjure-King, we can’t hope for any element of surprise. The country in that region is so open, they’ll see us coming from leagues away. And there are no strongpoints between the frontier and their Castlemont fortress where our forces might safely encamp to beseige the place.’

      Many spoke up in agreement.

      ‘Furthermore,’ Swanwick went on, ‘the earliest we could launch an invasion is in spring — late next Wind Moon, when the mountain snows will have melted and the mud dried. But by then our granaries will be sore depleted after winter. I’m sure Your Grace realizes that there will be no chance of foraging in the faminelands of Didion as we march eastward toward Holt СКАЧАТЬ