The Warrior's Tale Read Online Free Page A

declaration of war.
    'What are you hiding, Brother dear?' I asked. 'Go ahead ... tell me the worst.'
    He laughed, but the sound was harsh. 'I can't ever keep anything from you, can I, Big Sister?'
    'It comes from long practice, my dear,' I replied. 'Before you became a grown man and such a - dare I say it - responsible sort, I caught you with lizards in your pockets, and a little later, doxies in your bed.'
    My brother had been so young when our mother died, I'd practically raised him. We'd always been close, sharing secrets we'd never dream of mentioning even to our loved ones.
    'So, out with it, Amalric,' I said. 'Tell your wise sister what those fools at the palace are in such a panic about.'
    Amalric made a wry grin. 'Even though we have had plenty of notice,' he said, 'our troops are hardly prepared for a real war.'
    'That goes without saying,' I replied. 'Although my women are ready enough. We've doubled our training schedule and have remained on full alert since we heard the first rattlings of Lycanthians' swords. I've even, without orders, put extra rec ruiters out around the girls' ly cees and marketplaces, paying their expenses from one of my discretionary funds, for which initiative I could probably be relieved.'
    My undisguised tone alerted him to my bitter feelings. He gave me an odd look, then moved on.
    'Well, the rest of our troops will be doing the same now,' he said. 'Especially after the Magistrates were done spanking our incompetent commanders.'
    'They'll be up to the mark, soon enough,' I said, grudgingly admitting my brother soldiers were not totally without worth. 'Which means that problem will be quickly solved and everyone knows it. So if the Magistrates and Evocators are still shitting their breeches, then the trouble must be really big.'
    Amalric sighed. 'It's magical in nature,' he said.
    'I should have known,' I replied. 'But they're all panicky fools. Haven't they any faith in their own spells? Or have they been lazing about and ignoring the secrets you brought back from Irayas?'
    'Of course not. But the Archons have been hard at work, too,' Amalric said. 'And it seems they got more dark knowledge from Prince Raveline than we suspected. Our Evocators fear they'll match us spell for spell. Look at that damned wall they restored across the peninsula. One of the Evocators told me no one in the palace, even Gamelan, could cast a spell like that overnight.'
    'Who cares?' I scoffed. 'In the end, hard steel always decides a fight. So their Archons have worked up some new spells to protect them from our weapons? That'll mean our wizards will find a counterspell, and so on and so forth, until finally it's up to us common soldiers to win the old-fashioned way - with blades, axes, clubs and bows. Don't worry. We've always beaten them in the past. Magic isn't going to change anything.'
    'Normally, I'd agree,' Amalric said. 'For I learned as much about magic in battle from Janos Greycloak. He might have been a great sorcerer, but he was always a practical-minded warrior first.'
    He poured himself a goblet of wine. I waved him off when he offered me some and took some cold water instead.
    'This time, however,' he continued, 'there are foul tales of some terrible weapon the Archons are working up. I know rumours are more plentiful than beetles in pigswill when war threatens. However, Gamelan reports strange disturbances in the magical ethers, which leads him to lend credence to the whispers.'
    I was silent. Gamelan was not only the Chief Evocator - and our most powerful wizard - but an old man who had seen much and was noted for his cool appraisal. If Gamelan was worried, there was good cause to fear.
    'What else?' I asked, for I sensed more bad news.
    'The Archons are trying to win favour with King Domas,' my brother said. 'He is a cunning monarch, so I doubt they'll have much success. Unless ... they convince him our cause is hopeless. Then he'll do the same as any sensible ruler - he'll support the apparent