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Authors: James Barclay
Tags: Fantasy
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restricting his jaw movement.
Jhered looked across at him, riding bolt upright, brown eyes fixed ahead, and with sweat running down from underneath his plumed helmet. He respected Yuran for his loyalty to his people but was endlessly frustrated by his refusal to understand the effects Atreska's civil disturbance had on the wider Conquord. He had questioned Yuran's appointment exactly because of this introspection, this desire to remain apart from the empire. His fears had been overruled by the senate in Estorea, though he was certain the Advocate herself had her doubts. Shame.
'I am sure it is,' responded Jhered evenly. 'I still doubt the wisdom of bringing me here, Marshal Yuran. My visit is for three days only, during which time you have my ear for all your concerns. We will be spending two days on the road and throughout this one, you have barely spoken with me. Am I to understand this unfortunate township is your sole concern?'
Yuran turned to him, eyes narrowed.
'As always, I fear your puffed-up image of your own importance will stop you listening to the problems Atreska faces.'
Jhered kept his face impassive, letting Yuran give vent to his anxiety.
'I am bringing you to Gull's Ford because I believe that seeing how the Conquord is failing us will open your mind. Words you can ignore. Images you cannot.'
'I have seen the effects of raids and bandits more times than I care to, Thomal. I have fought more battles than you have seen years on God's earth. Like me, you must learn to accept such events as unfortunate steps on the difficult road to peace and stability.'
Yuran barked a short, bitter laugh. 'I would respect you if you were in any way an individual. Let your heart feel what we feel. Let your mouth respond with honesty, not with trite statements scratched by the quills of Advocacy clerks and politicians. Those people have never seen destruction. They have never seen war. They cannot understand our troubles. You have the capacity to help. It pains me that in the years I have known you, you have never exercised it.'
'Everything I say, I believe,' replied Jhered. 'And I work for what I believe. I am an agent of the Estorean Conquord and its Advocate. My work is unpopular with everyone but I have to live with that.' He shrugged. 'I'm a tax collector and so no one likes me. But it is nevertheless to the benefit of everyone that I do my work. Even those citizens of Gull's Ford. Even at a time like this.'
'You ask why I chose not to speak to you today? Perhaps you have your answer.'
'In that case, Marshal, I shall respect your desire for silence.'
Gull's Ford straddled the flat bottom and gentle slopes of a valley through which the River Gull ran north to south. It rose in the lakes region in the south of Gosland and emptied into the Tirronean Sea. The ford around which the township grew up was at the southern end of the settlement and had taken the principal trading route across the Gull east and west. With the arrival of the Estorean Conquord and the campaigns in Tsard, the river had been bridged with stone further downstream, providing surer and more direct access to the base of operations in enemy territory.
Gull's Ford had still managed to prosper in recent years, as Conquord armies bought supplies wholesale and traded booty from Tsard on a regular basis. Gull's Ford traders were linked to the markets in Haroq and were able to provide competitive pricing or trade goods that sold at a premium in the capital. But its good name had surely led to its targeting by the Tsardon.
Two days after the raid, responding to a messenger who had ridden an exhausted horse into Yuran's castle courtyard, the Atreskans and Jhered's people looked down on a ruined township. The destruction in Gull's Ford was widespread. Across the valley sides and beyond, cropland was blackened and destroyed. Villas stood in smouldering ruins, smoke rising into the clear blue sky. In the town itself, the path of the raiders was picked out by
Jhered looked across at him, riding bolt upright, brown eyes fixed ahead, and with sweat running down from underneath his plumed helmet. He respected Yuran for his loyalty to his people but was endlessly frustrated by his refusal to understand the effects Atreska's civil disturbance had on the wider Conquord. He had questioned Yuran's appointment exactly because of this introspection, this desire to remain apart from the empire. His fears had been overruled by the senate in Estorea, though he was certain the Advocate herself had her doubts. Shame.
'I am sure it is,' responded Jhered evenly. 'I still doubt the wisdom of bringing me here, Marshal Yuran. My visit is for three days only, during which time you have my ear for all your concerns. We will be spending two days on the road and throughout this one, you have barely spoken with me. Am I to understand this unfortunate township is your sole concern?'
Yuran turned to him, eyes narrowed.
'As always, I fear your puffed-up image of your own importance will stop you listening to the problems Atreska faces.'
Jhered kept his face impassive, letting Yuran give vent to his anxiety.
'I am bringing you to Gull's Ford because I believe that seeing how the Conquord is failing us will open your mind. Words you can ignore. Images you cannot.'
'I have seen the effects of raids and bandits more times than I care to, Thomal. I have fought more battles than you have seen years on God's earth. Like me, you must learn to accept such events as unfortunate steps on the difficult road to peace and stability.'
Yuran barked a short, bitter laugh. 'I would respect you if you were in any way an individual. Let your heart feel what we feel. Let your mouth respond with honesty, not with trite statements scratched by the quills of Advocacy clerks and politicians. Those people have never seen destruction. They have never seen war. They cannot understand our troubles. You have the capacity to help. It pains me that in the years I have known you, you have never exercised it.'
'Everything I say, I believe,' replied Jhered. 'And I work for what I believe. I am an agent of the Estorean Conquord and its Advocate. My work is unpopular with everyone but I have to live with that.' He shrugged. 'I'm a tax collector and so no one likes me. But it is nevertheless to the benefit of everyone that I do my work. Even those citizens of Gull's Ford. Even at a time like this.'
'You ask why I chose not to speak to you today? Perhaps you have your answer.'
'In that case, Marshal, I shall respect your desire for silence.'
Gull's Ford straddled the flat bottom and gentle slopes of a valley through which the River Gull ran north to south. It rose in the lakes region in the south of Gosland and emptied into the Tirronean Sea. The ford around which the township grew up was at the southern end of the settlement and had taken the principal trading route across the Gull east and west. With the arrival of the Estorean Conquord and the campaigns in Tsard, the river had been bridged with stone further downstream, providing surer and more direct access to the base of operations in enemy territory.
Gull's Ford had still managed to prosper in recent years, as Conquord armies bought supplies wholesale and traded booty from Tsard on a regular basis. Gull's Ford traders were linked to the markets in Haroq and were able to provide competitive pricing or trade goods that sold at a premium in the capital. But its good name had surely led to its targeting by the Tsardon.
Two days after the raid, responding to a messenger who had ridden an exhausted horse into Yuran's castle courtyard, the Atreskans and Jhered's people looked down on a ruined township. The destruction in Gull's Ford was widespread. Across the valley sides and beyond, cropland was blackened and destroyed. Villas stood in smouldering ruins, smoke rising into the clear blue sky. In the town itself, the path of the raiders was picked out by
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