On the other hand, it had to be said that Brucal was an old man who could quickly draw a sword and do considerable harm. And he refused to admit he was ill.
Brucal pulled off his heavy gauntlets and handed them to an aide. He allowed another to remove the heavy fur-lined weather-cloak he had worn from his own tent. He was dressed in simple blue trousers and a grey tunic, his tabard left behind in his tent. And this bloody rain doesnt help.
Another week of this and the snows will be falling in earnest.
According to our scouts, its already snowing heavily up north, around the Lake of the Sky, replied Brucal. We should consider sending the reserves back to LaMut and Yabon for the winter.
Borric nodded. We might get one more week of clement weather before the winter storms come, though. Just enough time for the Tsurani to start something. I think well keep half of the reserves close by; Ill order the other half back to LaMut.
Brucal looked at the campaign map on the large table before Borric. He said, They havent been doing much, lately, have they?
The same as last year, said Borric, pointing at the map. A sortie here, a raid there, but theres little evidence they seek to expand much any more.
Borric studied the map: the invading Tsurani had taken a large chunk of the Grey Tower Mountains and the Free Cities of Natal, but had seemed satisfied to hold a stable front for the last five years of the war. The dukes had managed one successful raid through the valley in the mountains the Tsurani had used as their beachhead, and since then intelligence about what was occurring behind enemy lines was non-existent.
Brucal blew his nose in a rag used to oil weapons, and then threw it into a brazier nearby. His large nose now looked red and shiny. The nine-year campaign had taken its toll on him, Borric noticed.
Borric thought back a moment to when the first sightings of the Tsurani invaders had been reported, by two boys at his own keep who had found a wrecked Tsurani ship on the headlands near his castle at Crydee. Later, word had been brought by the Elven Queen of aliens in the forests that lay between her own Elvandar and the Duchy of Crydee.
The world had changed: the fact of an alien invasion from another world via a magic gate was no longer a source of wonder. Borric had a war to fight and win. He had added some marks with brush and ink to the campaign map.
Whats this? asked Brucal, pointing to a notation Borric had added earlier in the morning.
Another migration of Dark Brothers. It looks as if a fairly large contingent of them are moving down the southern foothills of the Great Northern Mountains. Theyre treading a narrow path near the elven forests. I cant understand why theyd come over the mountains at this time of year.
Those blackhearts dont have to have a reason, observed Brucal.
Borric nodded. My son Arutha reported a large force tangled with the Tsurani while they were besieging my castle five years ago. But those were Dark Brothers driven from the Grey Towers by the Tsurani; they were striking north to join their kin in the Northlands. Theyve been quiet since then.
Theres one possibility.
Borric shrugged. Im listening, old friend.
Thats a bloody long trek for nothing, observed Brucal, as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. Theyre not fools.
The Dark Brotherhood is many things, but never stupid, agreed Borric. If theyre moving in force, its for a reason.
Where are they now?
Borric said, Last reports from the scouts near the Elven Forest. Theyre avoiding the dwarves at Stone Mountain and the elven patrols, heading east.
Lake of the Sky is the only destination, said Brucal, unless theyre going to turn south and attack the elves or the Tsurani.
Why Lake of the Sky?
It makes sense if theyre trying to get up to the eastern side of the Northlands. Theres a spur of mountains that runs north-east out of the Teeth of the World, hundreds of miles long and impassable. Over the Great Northerns, past the Lake of the Sky, and up a trail back north over the Teeth of the World is a short-cut, actually. The old duke stroked his still-wet beard. Its one of the reasons we have so much trouble with the bastards up in Yabon.
Borric nodded. They tend to leave us alone in Crydee, compared to the encounters your garrisons have with them.
I just wish I knew why they were out in force, heading east, this close to winter, muttered Brucal.
Somethings up, said Borric.
Brucal nodded. Ive been fighting Clan Raven since I was a boy. He fell silent for a moment. Their paramount chieftain is a murderous dog named Murad. If this bunch from the Northlands is looking to join with him
What?
I dont know, but itll be bad. Looking over the rest of the map, Brucal asked, Do we have anyone in that area now?
Just the garrison forts along the Tsurani front, and a few last patrols before winter, Borric replied.
Brucal leaned close to inspect each of the small ink marks on the map, then made a sound half-way between a snort and a laugh. Hartraft.
Who? asked Borric.
Son of one of my squires. Dennis Hartraft. Runs a company of thugs and cut-throats called the Marauders for Baron Moyet. Hes up there.
Whats he doing? asked Borric. The name is familiar, but I dont recall any reports from him.
Dennis is not one for paperwork, said Brucal. What hes doing is unleashing bloody murder on the Tsurani. Its personal with him.
Can we get word to him about this Dark Brothers migration?
Hes an independent. Hell come back to Moyets camp for the winter in the next week or two. Ill send word to the Baron to get whatever information from Dennis he can. Then Brucal laughed. Though it would be fitting for him and Clan Raven to tangle if it comes to that.
Why?
Brucal said, Too long a story to tell now. Just say theres even more history between his family and Murads blood-drinkers than there is between him and the Tsurani.
So what happens if this Hartraft and the Dark Brothers meet up?
Brucal sighed, and wiped his nose. A lot of people are going to get dead.
Borric took a step away from the map table and looked out of the pavilions door. A light mix of rain and snow was starting to fall. After a moment, he said, Maybe theyll miss each other and Hartraft will get back to Moyets camp.
Maybe, said Brucal. But if that bunch from the north gets between Dennis and Moyets camp, or some bunch from Clan Raven moves to meet with them
Brucal let the thought go unfinished. Borric knew what he thought. If that many Brothers got between Hartraft and his base, the chances for the Kingdom soldiers returning home alive were nearly non-existent. Borric let his mind wander for a moment, considering the cold hills of the north and the icy winter almost upon them, then he brushed away the thoughts. There were other fronts and other conflicts to worry about, and he couldnt help Hartraft and his men, even if he knew where they were. Too many men had already died in this war for him to lose sleep about another high-risk unit out behind enemy lines. Besides, maybe theyd get lucky.