[Kelvin 03] - Chimaera's Copper (with Robert E. Margroff) by Piers Anthony Page B

an experimental turn.

    Mor Crumb rode the big horse at the head of the column of the finest troops money could buy, and silently and bitterly chastised himself.

    We're on the way to Klingland, on the way to fight! To destroy boys like my Lester! Lester to destroy other boys in Kance. Damn my weakness! Damn my not standing up to that impostor! Damn, damn, damn!

    Ahead was the border, its location marked by guardhouses on either side of the road. The guardhouses were empty. Though King Kildom must have received the declaration of war, the border here was wide open.

    Now what, Mor the old soldier had to ask himself as they crossed, can that possibly mean?

    Lester did not like generaling. Here he was in fancy uniform approaching the border between Kelvinia and Kance. His father would be at the Klingland border now. St. Helens would be getting fitted for a new black uniform. One way or another they were all going to war. This was not as it should be, kings and prophecies be damned.

    Ahead were the wide river and the waiting ferry. An old man with bleary eyes took the pass and poled him and a couple of lieutenants across.

    "Something's happening in Kance," the oldster said.

    "Yes, what's that?" Les was watching the straining horses pulling the cable as the ferry crossed. He had never ridden a ferry before. The water was high and muddy, so the horses were working hard.

    "No one here all morning. Unusual."

    "There are usually soldiers on the Kance side?"

    The oldster slapped his thigh and cackled. "That's a good one, that is!" he said with a mouth full of rotted teeth. "And you wearing the uniform of a general! With Hermandy for a neighbor and the caps so near the river who'd--" He stopped, aware that his mouth might betray him.

    Yes, with the capital city for both Klingland and Kance so near to the river, who would leave the border here unguarded? He knew that there was a witch running things, but he had never heard she was stupid. Witch Melbah had guarded Aratex from Conjurer's Rock, but here there was no high rock overlooking a pass leading to the capital. Why leave the border open? Why not raise the river and a storm such as Melbah would have done?

    The log raft dipped and rose with a wave, and the men at the Kance side prepared for its landing. Stolid working types, they had their poles ready.

    No problem, but no guards. The raft landed in its berth and Les and the lieutenant disembarked. They watched the barge go back, the old man bending to his task with the sweeps. No one made comment.

    So here they were starting an invasion. So far it was a picnic. Les had imagined there might be rows of archers on their shore. But there were no troops and no one to stop them and demand that they surrender. In a way Lester felt disappointed. He'd almost rather be made a prisoner at the outset than have to lead a fight he didn't believe in. He should have spoken up, but somehow he hadn't.

    No soldiers waiting. No resistance mobilized. What did it all mean?

    Hal gazed at Easter as they lay in the loft. "You know this is wrong," he said. "I'm married and you're too young."

    "I've loved it every time!" she said. "I'm only sorry you have to go now." So it seemed. He had lost count of the number of times they had done it, these past three days. It seemed she was a lonely girl who had never had this sort of attention before. He could understand her attitude--but what of his own? He was long since old enough to know better! "So have I, Easter," he said. "I think I love you. But--"

    "And I love you, Hal! But I know how it is. You're married. You never told me wrong. But will you come again?"

    "I shouldn't."

    "But you will. I promise, I'll never tell! I just want to be with you, Hal."

    Gods help him, he wanted to be with her too. She gave him the love and passion that Charlain lacked. But how could he leave Charlain? She needed someone to run the farm.

    "I'll try," he said. And knew that neither storm nor drought could keep him