Long Price Quartet #03 - An Autumn War by Daniel Abraham

Author:Daniel Abraham [Abraham, Daniel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2008-07-21T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

Balasar had not been raised to put faith in augury. His father had always said that any god that could create the world and the stars should he able to put together a few well-formed sentences if there was something that needed saying; Balasar had accepted this wisdom in the uncritical way of a boy emulating the man he most admires. And still, the dream came to him on the night before he had word of the hunting party.

It was far from the first time he had dreamt of the desert. Ile felt again the merciless heat, the pain of the satchel cutting into his shoulder. The hooks he had home then had become ashes in the dream as they had in life, but the weight was no less. And behind him were not only Coal and Eustin. All of them followed him-Bes, NIayarsin, Little Ott, and the others. The dead followed him, and he knew they were no longer his allies or his enemies. They came to keep watch over him, to see what work he wrought with their blood. They were his judges. As always before, he could not speak. His throat was knotted. Ile could not turn to see the dead; he only felt them.

But there seemed more now-not only the men he had left in the desert, but others as well. Some of them were soldiers, some of them simple men, all of them padding behind him, waiting to see him justify their sacrifices and his own pride. The host behind him had grown.

He woke in his tent, his mouth dry and sticky. Dawn had not yet come. He drank from the water flask by his bed, then pulled on a shirt and simple trousers and went out to relieve himself among the bushes. The army was still asleep or else just beginning to stir. The air was warm and humid so near the river. Balasar breathed deep and slow. lie had the sense that the world itself-trees, grasses, moon-silvered clouds-was heavy with anticipation. It would he two weeks before they would come within sight of the river city Udun. By month's end another poet would be dead, another library burned, another city fallen.

"Thus far, the campaign had proved as simple as he had hoped, though slower. He had lost almost no men in Nantani. The low towns that his army had come across in their journey to the North had emptied before them; men, women, children, animals-all had scattered before them like autumn leaves before a windstorm. The only miscalculation he had made was in how long to rely on the steam wagons. Two boilers had blown on the rough terrain before Balasar had called to let them cool and be pulled. Five men had died outright, another fifteen had been scalded too badly to continue. Balasar had sent them back to Nantani. "There had been less food captured than he had hoped; the residents of the low towns had put anything they thought might be of use to Balasar and his men to fire before they fled.

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