CHAPTER 56
It took only a few days to raise The Silver Company, which was the true boon of having such a troop at hand. It was no standing army, but it was only slightly slower to muster than one.
Through those days, Silvergate received birds from the distant lords of the alliance. All of them had gathered their knights and men-at-arms and were riding east to bolster the Ardens’ ranks. Meanwhile, their levies would be raised, though they’d take time, and they’d, of course, harm their harvests. Lucan had doubted that any lord would raise their entire levy. They would certainly raise only enough to fight, not enough to ruin their harvests, and he couldn’t blame them. Even he was only bringing the Silver Company instead of raising a full and proper levy.
No doubt, every lord and knight was peevish about marching in winter as matters stood. They couldn’t neglect protecting Barwalis’s borders, however, particularly with the alliance in place. The Grey Alliance’s legitimacy hinged on its duty to protect the borders, after all.
On the last day, as The Silver Company was being stocked and prepared for the march, Lilian appeared in Lucan’s study in her war garments.
He gave her the most incredulous stare he’d ever mustered, or at least that was what he believed.
“What is this?”
“I shall accompany you.”
“No.”
“Yes, dear,” she said with some conviction. “I can still aid you. My magic has only gotten more potent after the Wilderlands. You accepted my aid then. Why will you not accept it now?”
“Times have changed,” Lucan said with some frustration, then he realized Thomas and Cordell were still there and gave them their leave with a nod. Cordell, in particular, seemed relieved to be rid of his plight. Thomas seemed bemused more than anything.
“What has changed? You have enemies. They are my enemies too,” Lilian said, crossing her arms.
“It was a more desperate time when we ventured into the Wilderlands, my love,” Lucan said with a sigh, standing and going around the table. He held her by the shoulders. “Now, I have more men, more allies, and there is no need to put you in peril.”
“Mages are always needed.”
“The Ardens retain the services of a mage. He comes when they need him. Lord Thornvale, likewise, is said to have a mage in his service. Lord Sergrave’s third son is a mage. We will have enough. You, however, will someday carry my heir. I will not imperil you.”
Lilian was stumped for a moment, and perhaps a little peeved, since the matter of bearing a child had been growing into a sore for both of them as of late. They’d been trying since their wedding, but it seemed to be taking longer than was common.
No matter, his father and mother had had the same trouble, and many lords had received their heirs later than expected. Delays were not unheard of, and there were medicants and surgeons to take counsel with.
“Silvergate is nearly defenseless too,” Lucan pressed, knowing it was half a lie. “A mage here gives us spine.”
Lilian seemed to relent, perhaps accepting this as a better excuse to stay. “Very well.” She took a moment, swallowing. “I will pray for your safe return then, my love.”
And with that, the matter was sealed at least for a time.
On the day of departure, Sir Wolfe and Sir Upton came as promised. Once Cordell brought him word of their arrival, Lucan, accompanied by his wife, descended to the bailey.
Lilian kissed him on the cheek and her handkerchief. “May you triumph a thousand times and one, my beloved.”
Lucan nodded and, as was custom, returned the handkerchief to her. “I shall accept it upon my return, my love.”
Lilian gave him a soft nod, and he turned around, accepting the reins of the bulldrake from the stableboy. The warsteed hadn’t seen much use for years, though neither Lucan nor his father had neglected its training. A bulldrake was a menace on the battlefield. Lucan didn’t know how well it would do in such weather, but it would at least be a notch above a warhorse.
Lucan rode out of Silvergate, getting nods from his men-at-arms who’d been waiting for him outside, mounted. Leading them, he rode south where the knights were waiting for him.
From a distance, Lucan saw the small troop that was waiting for him. Fewer than fifty men on foot, and the two knights in their imposing armor, mounted on warhorses and surrounded by their men-at-arms.
The bulldrake came to a halt in front of the two knights, restlessly kicking the ground. It wasn’t a traveling animal. Lucan would have used a traveling horse and kept the bulldrake for the war, but arriving on it brought a certain standing, and he had a feeling he would need it, considering how tangled this whole affair would be among the lords.
“Sirs,” Lucan said, nodding his head respectfully. The two knights were Lucan’s most reliable allies, aside from the Ardens. Sir Wolfe and Sir Upton both respected his father, and they’d known him since he was a child. Even though they were older and would likely harbor some grievances about being commanded by a young man such as him, being a lord gave his commands a certain legitimacy. He was also wise enough not to be too commanding when he wished for their deference. Courtesy cost him nothing after all, and the two knights never made it difficult for him.
Sir Ryder, unsurprisingly, was absent. His relationship with Lucan’s father wasn’t bad either, though it wasn’t as close as Sir Wolfe’s, for instance. Still, the knight had sent word.
“Greetings, Lucan,” Sir Wolfe said. “We’ve brought what men we could. The rest of the levy is still being raised. Sir Ryder has sent three of his men-at-arms.” He nodded at three mounted men in yellow brigandines who bowed to Lucan, as much as one could bow on a horse, at least. “He says that he must hold back the rest of his strength lest his border, too, be attacked in his absence.”
“And none could fault him.” Lucan nodded. “Good sirs, we do not have much time to spare. If you will, let us march.”
The two knights nodded. They’d brought five men-at-arms each, all that they had. Fewer than fifty common men with them was not many, but in such a short time, raising even a few dozen men was proof of sincerity.
They rode south together, and Lucan took the time to observe his troops. The Silver Company was anything but wanting. Winter cloaks covered them, even with the unexpected march. And Lucan couldn’t help but feel that a thousand gold to found such a troop was not wasted. His aides had planned for nearly everything, though these cloaks had, in truth, been procured in anticipation of a Wilderlands march rather than a winter march in Barwalis.
It took less than a day to reach The Needles on the quick march. Lucan had hastened their arrival since they’d already made the Ardens wait for several days, and he still didn’t know when the pretender would arrive at their border.
Sir Sarin rode out of the castle to meet them, followed by a pair of men-at-arms. Lucan urged his steed forward, and the knight’s horse pulled back at the sight of the bulldrake, but Sir Sarin reined it in.
“Hail, Lord Lucan!”
“Hail, my friend.” Lucan raised a hand in greeting.
“Sirs.” Sir Sarin nodded to the two accompanying knights, and they returned his acknowledgment.
“How goes it?” Lucan asked.
“Lord Cassius and Lord Drummond have arrived,” the knight explained. “With their men-at-arms.”
The last bit was perhaps to apprise Lucan that a proper levy hadn’t accompanied the two lords. Lucan nodded. “We come with two hundred men.” He gestured behind him. “Men-at-arms, common men, and my trained soldiers.”
“Lord Arden is grateful, your lordship.” Sir Sarin dipped his head.
“It is only the duty of Lord Arden’s allies to come to his aid,” Lucan said. “Now let us not delay.” The knight nodded and turned his horse around to lead them into the castle. “Any word of the pretender?”
“He marches with his overlord towards The Needles as we speak, your lordship.”
“And where does Lord Arden intend to face him?” Lucan asked, knowing full well that Sir Sarin was the one to decide.
“The castle would stand firm against even the strongest army the pretender could muster,” Sir Sarin said. “However, Lord Arden doesn’t wish to leave the hinterlands at his enemy’s mercy. We are mustering our troops to meet him on the field, but Lords Sergrave and Thornvale are still upon the road, and so is Sir Caerlyn.”
Lucan didn’t like that he had to fight out in the open in this winter, but he nodded firmly. Sir Sarin didn’t want the pretender’s army wandering around the Arden lands, taking what it wished and burning what it wished. Lucan certainly didn’t want the outsiders wandering into his lands, and he doubted Lord Cassius would wish to hide out in the castle either if they began pillaging villages for forage. While it would be foolish of them to provoke all the surrounding lords, one could never be certain of another’s wisdom or folly. Still, the reason Sir Sarin wanted to face the pretender outside was likely that he didn’t want Ren Arden to appear a cowering young lord who hid in his castle.
Lucan didn’t oppose it and, instead, asked, “What word do your scouts bring?”
Sir Sarin took a breath as they approached the thin, sky-piercing towers of The Needles.
“There are good tidings, and there are ill.”