furniture sent to the sawyer so the wood could be used in wall construction or in the making of arrows and spear hafts.
But she could not complain. This was the second time in as many months that her people had been called on to prepare the city for a siege, and she had heard no word of criticism, no sound of complaint. How could she do less?
She glanced down and saw workers labouring in one of the counter-mine tunnels. 'Farben!' she shouted, and everyone in a radius of forty paces suddenly froze. All except Farben, that is, who hurried to her from the back of her entourage.
'Your Majesty?'
'I thought I ordered the trenches to be at least two paces deep?'
'You certainly did, your Maj—'
'Then why is this trench decidedly less than two paces deep?'
The workers in the trench looked worriedly at each other. Farben wrung his hands! 'I don't know, your Maj—'
'Then get down and find out!' she ordered, and Farben scuttled down the nearest stairs and to the local work foreman, a large hairy man who scowled at him. Charion watched the two men argue for a moment before the foreman angrily grabbed a measuring stick, stuck it into the trench, pulled it out and waved it in
Farben's face. The official made a placating sound and hurried back to Charion.
'Well?' she demanded.
Farben was sweating from a mixture of nerves and fright. 'It is two paces deep, your Majesty.'
Charion looked surprised. 'Really?' she said mildly, leaning over to look at the trenches a second time.
Farben nodded eagerly.
Charion harrumphed and set off again around the walls, yelling out observations that were carefully recorded for future action: 'We need more stone here… shift labour from the cisterns to trench construction… we need more canvas to shelter the people in this quarter…' until she had done a complete circuit of the walls, ending at the northern gate. She dismissed her officials and gazed around once more, noting with relief that the walls were almost completed. Her biggest worry had been that Lynan would attack before she could repair all the damage done by Salokan when he attacked Daavis, and now it looked as if the city would be even better prepared than on that occasion. Maybe she would even allow herself four hours sleep tonight.
Before descending from the walls she looked northwards over gently rolling farmland, now deserted and starting to look rundown. The next winter would be a hard one for her people. But they would survive. Somehow, they would all survive.
Galen and his men filled their helmets with water from a stream and let their horses drink from them; when the horses had finished, and none of them showed any signs of illness, the knights themselves slaked their thirst from the stream. When Galen had drunk his fill he wet a scarf and wiped his face, then placed the scarf around his neck; the cool water trickled down his chest and back, bringing some relief from the heat. It was a hot day and even though the knights were dressed at most in greaves, and of course their helmets, they were all soaked in sweat. They were not used to summers this far north, and it was telling on them as well as their mounts.
Magmed, looking nothing like the young and arrogant knight who had set out all those months ago from Kendra, joined Galen. 'It is nearly summer, and this stream shows no sign of drying; the weeds are still green right to the top of the bank. What do you think?'
Galen looked around. He liked this spot. The land sloped gently from west to east, the stream eventually disappearing in a copse of trees not a hundred paces away. He nodded. 'Aye. We'll place an outpost here. There is water and wood and a good view of the surrounding land.'
In fact, Galen admitted to himself, he liked this land a lot. Although the heat was not to his favour, it was at least a dry heat, unlike the sultry summers citizens experienced back in Kendra. The grass was starting to yellow, but there were enough waterways and cool valleys to keep
But she could not complain. This was the second time in as many months that her people had been called on to prepare the city for a siege, and she had heard no word of criticism, no sound of complaint. How could she do less?
She glanced down and saw workers labouring in one of the counter-mine tunnels. 'Farben!' she shouted, and everyone in a radius of forty paces suddenly froze. All except Farben, that is, who hurried to her from the back of her entourage.
'Your Majesty?'
'I thought I ordered the trenches to be at least two paces deep?'
'You certainly did, your Maj—'
'Then why is this trench decidedly less than two paces deep?'
The workers in the trench looked worriedly at each other. Farben wrung his hands! 'I don't know, your Maj—'
'Then get down and find out!' she ordered, and Farben scuttled down the nearest stairs and to the local work foreman, a large hairy man who scowled at him. Charion watched the two men argue for a moment before the foreman angrily grabbed a measuring stick, stuck it into the trench, pulled it out and waved it in
Farben's face. The official made a placating sound and hurried back to Charion.
'Well?' she demanded.
Farben was sweating from a mixture of nerves and fright. 'It is two paces deep, your Majesty.'
Charion looked surprised. 'Really?' she said mildly, leaning over to look at the trenches a second time.
Farben nodded eagerly.
Charion harrumphed and set off again around the walls, yelling out observations that were carefully recorded for future action: 'We need more stone here… shift labour from the cisterns to trench construction… we need more canvas to shelter the people in this quarter…' until she had done a complete circuit of the walls, ending at the northern gate. She dismissed her officials and gazed around once more, noting with relief that the walls were almost completed. Her biggest worry had been that Lynan would attack before she could repair all the damage done by Salokan when he attacked Daavis, and now it looked as if the city would be even better prepared than on that occasion. Maybe she would even allow herself four hours sleep tonight.
Before descending from the walls she looked northwards over gently rolling farmland, now deserted and starting to look rundown. The next winter would be a hard one for her people. But they would survive. Somehow, they would all survive.
Galen and his men filled their helmets with water from a stream and let their horses drink from them; when the horses had finished, and none of them showed any signs of illness, the knights themselves slaked their thirst from the stream. When Galen had drunk his fill he wet a scarf and wiped his face, then placed the scarf around his neck; the cool water trickled down his chest and back, bringing some relief from the heat. It was a hot day and even though the knights were dressed at most in greaves, and of course their helmets, they were all soaked in sweat. They were not used to summers this far north, and it was telling on them as well as their mounts.
Magmed, looking nothing like the young and arrogant knight who had set out all those months ago from Kendra, joined Galen. 'It is nearly summer, and this stream shows no sign of drying; the weeds are still green right to the top of the bank. What do you think?'
Galen looked around. He liked this spot. The land sloped gently from west to east, the stream eventually disappearing in a copse of trees not a hundred paces away. He nodded. 'Aye. We'll place an outpost here. There is water and wood and a good view of the surrounding land.'
In fact, Galen admitted to himself, he liked this land a lot. Although the heat was not to his favour, it was at least a dry heat, unlike the sultry summers citizens experienced back in Kendra. The grass was starting to yellow, but there were enough waterways and cool valleys to keep
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