Page 33 of The Summer Pass

“Because it was true. Tagra Degra had a steward all that while—a kinsman of mine, Hattu. You remember him. Red-haired man?”

“Oh … I do. You think he’s the Boar of Hawakhurta?”

Vanu shrugged. “Maybe. And maybe if I showed myself at his gate, he’d hand the place over to me. He was a loyal man, that’s why I made him steward.”

“You don’t think it’s him.”

Vanu shook his head.

“You think it’s a usurper.”

“Something like that.”

That was probably the word for it, he reflected. What else would you call it when someone set themselves up as lord of your fortress and began flying their banner where yours should have flown? Usurping was what you did to a king, and there was no king in Hawakhurta. But Vanu had been getting close to being able to call himself king, three years ago.

Part of him truly wanted to ignore the Boar, let him have Tagra Degra and the whole Summer Pass, let him set himself up as King of Hawakhurta if he really wanted to. His actions so far suggested he’d be a terrible king, but that needn’t concern Vanu. Except of course it did—if he’d been content to hide in his stronghold and let his countrymen destroy themselves, he wouldn’t have left Umtúshta and shown himself in Sakka and Dukka six weeks ago.

It was another week before Vanu’s troops were provisioned and armed and ready to move out from Ara Tawa. By this time, Hegga’s men from Korumundi had arrived, bringing the total strength of his army up to nearly 4000. They looked like an impressive force, camped out there in the fields. He’d led a force larger than this before, but then he’d had experienced men at his side who were gone now. Some of the leaders who had joined him at Ara Tawa seemed good, dependable men, but he didn’t know them well, he could only guess.

He was out in the field, talking with Hegga from Korumundi when Miro arrived, jumping down from a panting, hard-ridden horse. Vanu strode out to meet him and didn’t need to hear him say a word to know that the news was bad.

“My lord,” said Miro, grey-faced. “We’ve missed them. The king’s army. They’ve marched from Masseta north-east through the Duni hills, headed to the Summer Pass. If we’d moved a week ago, we might have cut them off, but now … ”

“How big a force?”

“Four regiments of regular troops from Suna, three more of Masseta conscripts, and three of Sukiyan mercenaries. 10,000 men, if the regiments are at full strength.”

Vanu gave orders for the lords and headmen and their advisors to gather in the hall of the great house immediately, and that was where they all were when the second messenger arrived. This one had not come willingly. He was a Zashian courier who had been captured on the road with a message for the Protector of Akramarra. He had been persuaded with threats of violence to give up his message and brought in to repeat it to Vanu.

He was a small, dark-eyed man with long braids that made Vanu think of Lill—not that it took much to make Vanu think of Lill.

“Tell him what you told us,” one of his captors prompted.

The courier sighed as if the situation mildly annoyed him. “The Great King’s army under the command of General Pantaresh has reached the Summer Pass and razed the villages in the lower part of the pass.”

Vanu felt a chill settle around his heart. There were two villages in the valley below the Summer Pass: Taskhabara in the west, the home of Mikhi’s kin, and Manáshta on the eastern slope, Gurti’s home village, where she and Susami and Atari and Khatu’s brother and wife and unborn child had been headed.

“At the westernmost village they met fierce resistance and took many prisoners,” the courier went on, reciting the rest of his message, “but the eastern village was deserted when they arrived, as the inhabitants had already fled to the fortress in the top of the pass.”

So they might be alive. If they had reached Manáshta, they might have been evacuated to Tagra Degra with the other villagers. If they had not, they might be prisoners of the Zashian king’s army. Either way, Vanu knew what he had to do.

There was no time to consider who would be the best choice to lead his troops. He turned to the lord of Korumundi, who had the advantage of being the oldest of the lords and who was also the most recent arrival, so he hadn’t had time to do anything to annoy Vanu yet.

“Take our entire force and move to the Summer Pass with all speed. I have business on the other side of the river and will catch up to you.”

“Very well, my lord. And this Zashian?” He pointed at the courier.

“Comes with me. As do the Zashian horses.”

“Are you sure, my lord? We could use them to mount more of our men and travel faster.”

“Yes, but I have need of them.”

“Very well, my lord.”

Vanu beckoned to Mikhi, who had not understood the courier’s message, and to Khatu, who had and was standing with a look of frozen horror on his face.

“With me, both of you.”