Chapter#203
Behind him, Darien became aware of a great confusion and wailing. He sensed something had gone badly wrong, he did not know what. There were cries on the Angel of Mercy but he was determined not to give her that satisfaction again himself. Then he heard what else they were shrieking: "van Sietter is dead! van Sietter is dead!"
He saw Tashka's eyes flick sideways and quickly back to him. The two of them stood still, pressing their weapons with hard strength each to the other. He had lost, the battle was over but he could not bear to give up again to her. She had stood over him so often in triumph.
Tashka's slanted dark blue eyes stared unwinking into his round pale blue eyes. She was breathing heavy and fast, her nostrils were flared and there was a barely healed thin cut across her nose.
"Darien," she said.
He glared at her. His eyes were wide, he panted in her face, she could smell his warm breath, there was the long scar cutting down across his face.
"My father is dead," she spoke in a colourless voice, panting with the effort of their struggle but with no emotion in her voice.
His eyes flickered quickly from side to side, always coming back across her eyes. They were in the middle of a huge ring of H'las soldiers now, who did not dare to come and try to break up the fight in case they tipped the balance against Tashka.
"I have not often had the honour to fight with one as able as I am," she said. It would have been arrogance in anyone-else but his blue eyes dipped in acknowledgement of the compliment.
"Darien," she said.
"Commander-Lord el Maien," he answered.
"Let us part friends then," she said.
He looked up into her eyes. "I'll not swear to Lord Clair," he said. She sighed. Her warm breath blew into his face, her blue eyes looked regretfully into his, "but I will swear to Lady el Jien's fingers," he said.
The slanted blue eyes widened.
"Will you not strip the lands from the other officers?" he asked. "You may take mine," he added, "but we have had to be true to our vow. Will you recognise that?"
"It is not for me to say," she answered. "I am van H'las. But you know that Clair is a man who not only lives by the code of honour, he will exercise duty of care to the utmost limit of his heart, and you know that Lady el Jien will never countenance an injustice to you nor any other."
He eased the pressure of his weapons against hers. She slackened her muscles, stepped back and let her sword and dagger hang loose in her hands, watching him but not insisting that he call on the Angel of Mercy. He looked round at the H'las soldiers all around them. He let his weapons fall to the ground and stood staring desolate at the torn muddy grass below his feet. It was over. They had lost.
"Darien."
He looked up at her. Now that he could pay attention, he could see how she was changed by the war. She was so thin that her determination and courage seemed to shine through her pale skin. She slung her own weapons to one side and stepped forward offering him her scarred right hand. He hesitated, took it and clasped her arm about the elbow with his left hand.
"Victory is yours," he said huskily.
She stared into his face. He let her hand go and stepped back. Hanya Lein had come to her side, he too was saying: "Victory is yours."
She looked up at the sky. It was a clear soft blue spring sky. There was a chill in the air, a breeze on her sweat-beaded brow made her shiver but she could smell moist good earth and young plants growing.
"Victory is yours!" it was Commander-Sir Pava Talien of Seventh H'las.
She fell to her knees and put her face in her hands. What a hollow shell was victory to her. Her victory was Flava Trait and Petra Jien, Lial Iada and the hundreds of men who had saluted her and passed into their graves.
The soldiers around her were uneasily silent but Pava Talien put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder and gripped her shoulder.
She raised her head and got slowly to her feet. She saw Darien standing by with his hands loose and his scarred face stricken and went to take his arm. "Go with this man," she said gently. "There will be a panic among your troop. Go with this man and collect them into their barracks. Basra! Take Commander-Sir Darien about the field to collect his men. Hanya, collect the other Commanders for me here."
She stood in the middle of the victorious field of battle and dealt them out their duties as if they were her Captains: Give me some paper and a pen. You will arrange to take these messages to the troops we left to engage the second line of defence. You will collect the wounded and organise the medical units to assist them. You will be in charge of the Sietter wounded, treat them like our own or I will have your ears. You will collect the weaponry from the fallen and from the enemy. You will go into the town to establish the lines of supply for the troops, and for the troops which have engaged in the second line of defence which will be coming back here soon, you must ensure the line of supply to the enemy Sietter troops as well or I will have your ears. Sixth H'las Captains, Inien will be the acting Commander, Lein you are with me. I will see you Commanders in the Palladia in four hours and you will make your verbal reports. Bring a trusted Lieutenant to clerk for you so we may send the written reports straight out of the meeting back to the Lord General in Port H'las.