Lescari Revolution 03: Banners In The Wind Read Free Page A

be no changing it. His throat tightened.
    'We'll start by raising a militia in Triolle Town.' Gren cracked his knuckles in happy anticipation.
    Sorgrad frowned. 'The Guild Council will want to keep every able-bodied man here, in case these mercenaries head this way next.'
    Relieved to see this pair had no intention of deserting him, Tathrin nodded reluctantly. 'The Triolle Guilds will say Wyril is Draximal's concern and Ashgil is in Carluse territory. They'll say this is none of their affair.'
    'If Draximal could raise half a company, they'd be whiskerless boys and greybeards,' Gren scoffed. 'Duke Secaris's militias were cut to pieces in the battle for Tyrle and these thrice-cursed mercenaries have hunted down those few that escaped.'
    Sorgrad was already thinking beyond their immediate task. 'Once these vermin are beaten back from Ashgil they must be driven out of Wyril, otherwise they'll just lick their wounds there and attack again.'
    'The captain-general thinks much the same.' Dagaran looked steadily at Tathrin.
    He knew they were right. He chewed his lip dubiously all the same. Could he possibly convince the resentful Triollese to take up arms on another dukedom's behalf? When their sons had so often been forcibly recruited into the militias, to bleed and die in their liege lord's endless futile quarrels. He knew the tavern chimney-corner sages were saying the dukes of Carluse and Draximal had merely reaped what they had sown.
    In all honesty, Tathrin struggled to care as much for those slain in the atrocious sack of Wyril as he now feared for Ashgil. Even if Failla had not been there, Ashgil's inhabitants were Carlusian. They were his kith and kin in a way the Draximal folk of Wyril simply were not.
    But they had come to bring peace for all Lescari. He had to do this. There was no other option. Tathrin resolutely thrust aside all the doubts and preoccupations hanging around him, as dispiriting as the chill mists rising from Triolle's sodden turf. In some perverse fashion, having a clearly defined task came as a relief. Anything was better than contemplating the looming, elusive ordeal of bringing a lasting peace out of all this uncertainty.
    He turned to Dagaran. 'If the captain-general won't release his mercenary companies to us, I hope he won't object to us recruiting some sergeants to stiffen our militiamen's backbones?'
    The Soluran smiled. 'I'm sure he won't.'
    'We can tell you who to tap on the shoulder.' Gren was honing a dagger with his whetstone.
    'They'll want paying,' Sorgrad reminded Tathrin.
    He nodded. 'So we must ask Aremil what's left in the war chest.'
    And surely Aremil would have more success raising a militia inside Carluse, to defend their own people in Ashgil?

Chapter Two
     
    Aremil
    Carluse Castle,
    10th of For-Winter
     
    He contemplated the final reports from the mercenary captains in charge of Sharlac and Losand, the first two towns they had captured. Now he needed to decide who to promote in their place, from the militia companies each town had raised against the possibility of the dukes attacking. Given a taste of freedom, none of the guildsmen and merchants was willing to resubmit to their authority.
    Which was all well and good, Aremil reflected. But would those same guildmasters begin quarrelling with their rivals in other towns and dukedoms or would they see the benefits of cooperation? If so, who among them would expect to be in charge? Who would make most trouble if they felt overlooked?
    Then there were the heaped letters from Lescari nobles, more arriving every day. Captain-General Evord had made it plain that answering those was Aremil's responsibility.
    What should he say to those gently born folk who'd swiftly thought better of riding to assist their liege lords, once they'd realised the Soluran was intent on carrying his shocking campaign to a decisive conclusion? A good number wanted recognition and, yes, reward for their forbearance, some share of the plunder they imagined the