Into a Dark Realm. Raymond E. Feist

only thing that convinced Kaspar the Muboya army hadn’t been defeated was the lack of retreating soldiers. But from the disposition of those forces still in the field and the destruction visible everywhere, Kaspar knew the Maharajah’s offensive had been halted. At the very best, the Maharajah had achieved a stalemate. At worse, there was a counter-offensive coming this way in a day or two.

      Kaspar had little trouble locating the commander’s pavilion, situated as it was on top of a hill overlooking what was likely to be the battlefield. As he rode up the incline, he could see positions to the south being fortified and by the time he was approached by a pair of guards, he had no doubt as to the tactical situation of this conflict.

      An officer and a guardsman waved to Kaspar and the officer asked, ‘Your business?’

      ‘A moment with General Alenburga.’ Kaspar dismounted.

      ‘Who are you?’ said the officer, a dirty and tired-looking young man. His white turban was almost beige with road dust and there was blood splattered on his leggings and boots. The dark blue tunics of both men did a poor job of hiding the deep red stains of other men’s blood.

      ‘By name, Kaspar of Olasko. If the General’s memory is overwhelmed by the conflict below, remind him of the stranger who suggested he leave the archers at his rear outside Higara.’

      The officer had appeared inclined to send Kaspar on his way, but he said, ‘I was part of the cavalry that rode north and flanked those archers. I remember it being said an outlander gave the suggestion to the General.’

      ‘I’m pleased to be remembered,’ said Kaspar.

      To the guard, the officer said, ‘See if the General has a moment for … an old acquaintance.’

      After a moment, Kaspar was bade to enter the pavilion’s main tent. He gave the reins of his mount to the guard and followed the officer inside.

      The General looked ten years older instead of three, but he smiled as he looked up. His dark hair was now mostly grey, and combed back behind his ears. His head was uncovered. ‘Come back for another game of chess, Kaspar?’ He rose and extended his hand.

      Kaspar shook it. ‘I wouldn’t have expected to be remembered.’

      ‘Not many men give me a brilliant tactical plan and beat me at chess in the same day.’ He motioned for Kaspar to take a canvas seat near a table covered with a map.

      Then the General signalled for his batsman to fetch something to drink. ‘Could have used you a few times along the way, Kaspar. You have a better eye for the field than most of my subcommanders.’

      Kaspar inclined his head at the compliment, and accepted a chilled cup of ale. ‘Where do you find ice around here?’ he said as he sipped.

      ‘The retreating forces of our enemy, the King of Okanala as he calls himself, had an ice-house in the village we liberated a few days ago. They managed to haul off all the stores and destroy anything else that might have been helpful to us, but somehow I guess they couldn’t work out a quick way to melt all the ice.’ He smiled as he took his drink. ‘For which I’m thankful.’ He put his cup down. ‘Last time I saw you, you were trying to take a dead friend home to be buried. What brings you this way this time?’

      Kaspar glossed over what had happened after the last time they had met and said, ‘The occupant of the coffin got to where he was intended to be, and other duties have overtaken me since then. I’m here looking for friends.’

      The General said, ‘Really? I thought you said when last we met you were merchants. Now you have friends this far south?’

      Kaspar understood the suspicious mind of a general who just lost a major battle. ‘They are from the north, actually. A man by the name of Bandamin was pressed into service quite far up north – I believe he was taken by slavers, actually, who were most likely illegally doing business outside of Muboya with your press gang.’

      ‘Wouldn’t be the first time,’ said the General. ‘During a war, it’s harder than usual to observe the niceties.’

      ‘He had a wife and son, and the son got word that his father was with your army and came south looking for him. The mother followed the boy.’

      ‘And you’ve followed the mother,’ said Alenburga.

      ‘I’d like to get her and the boy back home to safety.’

      ‘And the husband?’ asked the General.

      Kaspar said, ‘Him, too, if possible. Is there a buy-price?’

      The General laughed. ‘If we let men buy their way out of service, we’d have a very poor army, for the brightest among them would always find a means. No, his service is for five years, no matter how he was enlisted.’

      Kaspar nodded. ‘I’m not particularly surprised.’

      ‘Feel free to look for the boy and his mother. The boys in the luggage-train are down the hill to the west of here, over by a stream. Most of the women, wives as well as camp-followers are nearby.’

      Kaspar drank his ale, then stood. ‘I’ll take no more of your time, General. You’ve been generous.’

      As he turned to leave, the General asked: ‘What do you think?’

      Kaspar hesitated, then turned to face the man. ‘The war is over. It’s time to sue for peace.’

      Alenburga sat back and ran forefinger and thumb along the side of his jaw, tugging slightly at his beard for a moment. ‘Why do you say that?’

      ‘You’re recruited every able-bodied man for three hundred miles in any direction, General. I’ve ridden through two cities, a half-dozen towns and a score of villages on my way here. There are only men over forty years of age and boys under fifteen left. Every potential fighting man is already in your service.

      ‘I can see you are digging in to the south; you expect a counterattack from there; but if Okanala has anything left to speak of, he’ll punch through on your left, roll you up, and put your back to the stream. Your best bet is to fall back to the town and dig in there.

      ‘General, this is your frontier for the next five years, at least, ten more likely. Time to end this war.’

      The General nodded. ‘But our Maharajah has a vision, and he wishes to push south until we are close enough to the City of the Serpent River that we can claim all the Eastlands are pacified.’

      ‘I think your ambitious young lord even imagines some day he might take the city and add it to Muboya,’ Kaspar suggested.

      ‘Perhaps,’ said Alenburga. ‘But you’re right on all other counts. My scouts tell me Okanala is digging in, as well. We’re both played out.’

      Kaspar said, ‘I know nothing of the politics here, but there are times when an armistice is a face-saving gesture and times when it is a necessity, the only alternative to utter ruin. Victory has fled, and defeat awaits on every hand. Have your Maharajah marry one of his relatives off to one of the King’s and call it a day.’

      The General stood up and offered his hand. ‘If you find your friends and get them home, Kaspar of Olasko, you’re welcome in my tent any time. If you come back, I’ll make a general out of you and when the time comes we’ll push down to the sea together.’

      ‘Make me a general?’ said Kaspar with a grin.

      ‘Ah, yes, I was the commander of a brigade when last we met,’ said the General, returning Kaspar’s grin. ‘Now I command the army. My cousin appreciates success.’

      ‘Ah,’ said Kasper shaking his hand. ‘If ambition grips me, I know where to find you.’

      ‘Good fortune, Kaspar of Olasko.’

      ‘Good fortune, General.’

      Kaspar left the pavilion and mounted his horse. He walked the gelding down the side of the hill towards a distant dell through which wandered a good-sized