Zefran let out a deep belly laugh and leaned over to punch Bartok, who was riding next to him, on the shoulder. “J’ya hear that? Young’un here’s afraid Krystelle Mora might not be able to handle herself.”
Bartok stretched and let out a yawn. Chuckling he shook his head, “I thought Krystelle said you traveled with her? Don’t you know she is one of the best Swordmasters Gabirel has ever had?”
Sebastian shook his head, taking in what Bartok was telling him. He had seen her fight, but never realized just how good she was. These men obviously held her fighting skills in high regard.
“You think on that boy, the next time you see Krystelle Mora,” said Zefran as three of them reached the top of the next hill. He looked across the line of march “And if I don’t mistake things, that time will be soon. We’ve reached the army.”
Looking out over the valley, Sebastian saw Zefran was right. The familiar sight of the Gabirelian encampment stretched out before him. Arranged in concentric circles, the camp was laid out with the command tent in the center, along with the supply and mess wagons. To one side were the distinctive individual tents of the swordmasters, ordered but not military. On the other the strict discipline of the squadrons of squires with a small training ground in the center of their zone. Even on the march the squires continued training and drilling.
Farther afield were the infantry, archers, and cavalry; the core strength of the army should things come to open conflict. The army had grown in size since Sebastian left. No doubt the call had gone out to units deployed away from the Dazhberg. A line of wood spikes surrounded by a shallow ditch surrounded the army. For the first time since waking, Sebastian wondered what reception he would find. He was, after all, technically a deserter.
Quartermaster Mikula met the leaders of the dwarven army and issued orders for their disposition. Although a tradesman, Mikula was one of the few in the army with the authority to order generals. That ability was not just a result of his position. Sebastian had met the man just once and would sooner cross Jarmo Dale or Lord Commander Teoma. Mikula had an iron will beneath the steel gray hair plastered to his head.
Swept along with the dwarves, Sebastian and his companions lost themselves in the dust and confusion as the Quartermaster settled the dwarven army just outside the camp. Perhaps their status as allies was still in question.
Not sure if he should report to Jarmo Dale or stay with the dwarves, Sebastian dismounted and handed the reins of his horse to a groom when a familiar voice called out from the din, “Ho there!” He turned to find Krystelle Mora emerging from the organized chaos of dwarves setting up their camp.
“It is good to see you three,” she said with a smile on her face that extended to the sparkle in her eyes. “I have much to tell you. For now, though, I must steal Sebastian away. The council is meeting with the dwarven general and Mistress Valeria says you should be there. Follow me…and hurry!”
She spun off into the crowd, Sebastian close on her heels. Watching her move, Sebastian remembered what Bartok and Zefran had told him. There had always been a grace in her movements, but that grace took on a more deadly overtone as he watched her maneuver her way through the camp. Not once did she have to pause as someone crossed her path. Her movements were sure and steady while Sebastian moved in fits and starts. He dodged around a trio of dwarves arguing over their tent stakes and then pulled up short while a cart passed in front of him. Krystelle Mora outpaced him by a good measure and he jogged to catch up. She gave him a wry look as they passed through a gap in the camp’s defenses and made a beeline for the command tent.
Arriving, Sebastian paused for a moment and held up a finger to Krystelle Mora as he breathed heavily, trying to catch his breath. She was not winded in the slightest. Rolling her eyes, she gestured for him to follow her inside. He found the entire council there surrounding a makeshift table. There was a map on the table with figures he supposed represented Gabirel and the King’s forces. Mistress Valeria was the only one present who noticed the two of them. Sebastian thought she gave the slightest smile upon seeing Krystelle and he enter.
A dwarf that had to be General Uisdean was speaking. The general wore a leather jerkin over ring mail armour and had the longest, grayest beard Sebastian had ever seen. A long scar stretched up the left side of his face, ending where his ear had once been. Behind him stood Captain Wulfsige, his split beard dangling with those iron beads.
“If ye expect the dwarves to fight this battle with you, then you’ll hand over the Eligium Muliach,” Gravel had nothing on Uisdean’s voice. It was like the rumbling of a landslide in a thunderstorm when he spoke. “By rights and treaty it is ours.”
“No one disputes that…” began Lord Commander Teoma.
“If there is no dispute then why do ye not concede the point and hand over the stone?”
Teoma leaned in toward Uisdean, “As I’ve said, we do not yet know if this will come to open battle. When, and if it does, we will consider the best disposition of our assets, including all the Eligium.”
Uisdean pounded his fist on the table, causing the figurines to rattle out of place. “You will consider. YOU. What of the dwarves? Have we no say?”
Lord Damianus raised his hands, “Of course you will have a say in any council of war, but when it comes to the stones, we must defer to the wisdom of the wizards.”
“Well then, what say the wizards?” the dwarf turned toward Darden and Valeria.
It was Mistress Valeria who spoke, her voice ringing in contrast to the deep rumbling of the dwarf. “I beg your patience and indulgence General Uisdean. We do not yet know how deeply Sterling Lex has infiltrated himself into the King’s council. It may yet be that we can overcome his magic. But you yourself must see the growing darkness that threatens the land. Were it not for Sebastian, the dwarves themselves would still be under the thrall of the dark wizard. How much worse must it be for the King, in such proximity to Sterling Lex? If that were not enough, we see a shadow stretching out across the people of the land causing madness and violence. Can you fight that? Has new magic come to the dwarves when we were not looking? Will you trust Uriasz in this?”
Uisdean stared at the wizard for a long moment, considering her words. Every eye in the room was on him, waiting with baited breath. Sebastian felt the tension thicken in the room and he clenched his own fists. Holding his breath, he wondered what would happen if the dwarven general did not agree. This alliance could dissolve before it even began and give Sterling Lex yet another victory. At last Uisdean nodded, and tension drained from the room like water.
Leaving the command tent after several hours of debate around strategy and battle planning he barely followed, Sebastian found himself not sure what to do next. Krystelle Mora slipped out during the long afternoon and no one else seemed to care what he did. Looking around the bustle of the camp, he breathed a deep sigh and decided it was time to pay the piper. Setting his shoulders back, he forced himself to put one foot in front of the other toward the squire’s campsite.
He had not gotten four steps when Zefran grabbed his arm. “You’ll not be wanting to go that way lad. Rumor says Jarmo Dale has it in for you. Why don’t you spend at least one more night with me ‘n Bartok and we’ll figure out what to do about rejoining your squad on the morrow? Besides, we’ve already stowed your gear.”
It was the best idea Sebastian heard all day.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
After settling in with Bartok and Zefran, Sebastian scurried over to the mess to draw rations for the three of them before the squires joined the queue. Balancing three steaming hot bowls of stew he returned to the campsite to find the men had kindled a small fire and several others had joined them around the fire. Without a word, he passed the stew to Bartok and Zefran and found a spot near the fire and, he hoped, out of everyone’s way.
Slurping his dinner, Sebastian pondered his next steps. Returning to his squadron and Jarmo Dale’s discipline for desertion did not sound particularly appealing. He had g
one to Hallvard, rescued Krystelle Mora and brought the dwarves to the side of Gabirel. Yet it seemed no one cared. He could just disappear. Maybe he would do just that. Disappear. It had not been hard the first time. Tonight would be his chance to slip out and be on his way. No one would be the wiser. He’d not asked to be part of this nor ever wanted this magical curse. No. That kind of thinking belonged to the old Sebastian. He belonged here, for better or worse, and he would see this through. He had made his decision to rescue Krystelle and would pay whatever price Jarmo Dale required.
That decision made, he inched closer to the fire to join in the conversation when Mistress Valeria emerged from the shadows and interrupted his reverie. “Sebastian?” her alto voice rang in the gathering dusk and stopped the soldier's raucous conversation. “May I have a word with you?”
He stared at the wizard, feeling uncomfortably like a rabbit trapped in a snare. “Of course,” he said at last. She inclined her head to acknowledge the soldiers who had risen to their feet in respect and motioned for Sebastian to follow. He scramble to his feet and made after her, listening to the now subdued conversation of the soldiers behind him.
“I hope today’s councils were not too vexing for you. At times you were ready to fall asleep in the command tent.” Even knowing what she said was true, he opened his mouth to protest, and she raised a hand to forestall him. “No, no. It’s alright. I myself find battle planning to be exceedingly tedious when one is not directly involved. I was relieved Krystelle Mora found you and brought you to the chamber. I deemed it the best place for you.”
Sebastian suppressed a flash of disappointment Krystelle had not sought him out on her own. “You mean you had her bring me to the council?”
“Because I had not yet decided what to do with you and I did not want Jarmo Dale to get his hands on you before I made up my mind.”
He could run. He screamed at himself in his own mind. Run! Right now, run away! Valeria…Mistress Valeria, Wizard of Uriasz was deciding what to do with him. He steeled himself, “and have you? Decided what to do with me that is.”
“I have,” she winked at him. “Would you like to know?”
Not really, he thought. However, what he said was, “Yes, very much.”
“I will trust you.” Not the answer Sebastian was expecting. “If you were listening today, you heard that the council feels we may yet avoid a battle. Foolishness. Sterling Lex has not put so much energy into arranging these circumstances to avoid a conflict. In fact, two battles are being prepared. The one the generals are planning, and the other, more important, battle.”
“More important?”
“Yes, more important. The fate of Cynneweald does not rest on the swords of men and dwarves but with the remnants of the wizards of Uriasz. We will fight the real battle against Sterling Lex and the dark wizards he has raised up to his cause.”
“But what does that have to do with me?”
“Do with you? Everything. You must stand with the wizards.”
Sebastian took a deep breath. “I will stand with you, if you believe I must. I thought that when the day came to join in some great battle, I’d do it with a sword. I’ve seen enough now to know that my path is one I never imagined. I always believed that one man with a sword can turn the tide of battle, but I am no longer that man.”
“You have grown since last we spoke. You possess power from your elven heritage. A power greater than you understand. If any of us are to survive this, we need that power. I had not wanted it to be this way, but I fear it must and that is why I have brought this to you.” She pulled a smooth, blood-red stone from her cloak.
Recognizing what she held, he took a step back and raised his hands in defiance. “The Dragonstone? You want me to carry it into battle?” She nodded. “Why me? Why don' t you carry it? Or Master Darden? Or one of the dwarves?”
“You have an affinity for the Dragonstone I can not explain. You have from the beginning. You overcame your friend Cenric’s connection to it, which should not have been possible. That is how strong your connection is. We had planned to keep you far away from the stone as we did not understand enough. The time for caution is over.”
“But surely someone who knows more about the stones could do so much more?”
“That may be. In fact, I will carry the Sunstone. Although there is one with more right to it than I.” Looking thoughtful for a moment, she shook her head. “That need not concern you. Suffice to say, I will wield the Eligius Siothrun.”
“And the Moonstone?”
“You mean you don’t know?” He shook his head. “Breandan took the Moonstone when he left with Cenric.”
“Then Sterling Lex has it! After everything we went through to keep it from him…”
“It is not certain Sterling Lex possesses the Moonstone. We've had no report of Breandan or your friend since they left the Dazhberg and our scouts have not seen them around Cineath.” She held out the Dragonstone. “Will you take it?”
Sebastian stood for a moment, staring at the stone dangling from its iron chain. The time had long past he could deny who he was. “I will.”
Valeria held her pose for a moment longer, considering his resolve. “So be it. I believe you have chosen wisely.”
Taking the Dragonstone from her, he hid it beneath his cloak. She pulled her arm back and swiveled away. Sebastian watched her go, wondering what tomorrow would be.
He stood there for a long time considering before he realized someone had come up to stand beside him. It was Zefran. “I take it you heard that?”
“Aye lad, I did.”
“What do you think?”
“Soldiers follow orders. We fight where and when we’re told or the whole damn thing falls apart. You’re doing a brave thing taking that stone. You’ve a destiny on you and I’m glad to see you start living it.”
“What if I don’t believe in destiny?”
“Then you do it anyway. You do it because its the right thing to do. Now here’s what will happen. You’ll come back to your blankets and get a fair night of sleep. Tomorrow morn, you’ll do your duty in this battle just like us all. Are we clear?” Sebastian stood there, mouth gaping open as the solider stalked back to their camp.
Dawn came the next morning before Sebastian was prepared. It seemed he had just closed his eyes, worrying over Valeria and the Dragonstone, when reveille sounded across the camp. Emerging from his blankets, he found Zefran watching him. Shrugging a tunic around his shoulders, Sebastian slinked away in the general direction of Valeria’s tent.
Walking, Sebastian considered the battle ahead. He could feel the Dragonstone beneath his cloak, its presence palpable. Just beyond, at the edge of his consciousness, that presence he’d connected with at Cale Uriasz. The dragon. He was there, waiting.
Sebastian realized he had stopped in the middle of the lane between rows of tents. He’d passed into the spearman’s camp and was nearing the area where Valeria’s tent would be. Looking around, he saw men preparing their gear for the battle ahead. Some sharpened their weapons one last time, others cinched armor tight, and a few scribbled final letters to some distant friend, lover, or relative.
Looking into the faces of these men, Sebastian realized they were just victims of fate. To be sure, they volunteered to join Gabirel. But they joined expecting to face opponents they could understand. Enemies armed with steel and cunning. This day they faced a different enemy. The kind of enemy that devastated the kingdom during the Dragon Wars. The kind of enemy that the Ban was supposed to prevent from ever rising again. The kind of enemy that required someone like him.
The Ban had failed, but the wizards remained in a weakened state. These soldiers were prepared to go to their deaths to defend the land one last time and here he stood, wondering if he could control his power. If he didn’t try, the blood of these men would be on his hands.
Sebastian tromped with newfound purpose towards Valeria’s tent. He would not abandon these men. Passing out of the spearmen’s encampment
, he entered the section of camp housing the wizards. Ahead he saw a colorful, purple canvas that had to be hers. A moment later, his assumption proved true as the wizard emerged from the tent and glided towards him.
“Sebastian, it is good to see you this morning. Are you ready?”
He nodded, “I am. A wise man reminded me I have a duty to perform. But…”
“But?” she cocked her head to the side.
“I still don’t know what I’m doing. What if the battle begins and I am helpless?”
“All I am asking is that you believe in yourself. You have more strength than you realize. I will be with you at every step. Have faith, together we will defeat Sterling Lex. We must.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
From their vantage point on a bluff overlooking Cinaeth, Sebastian saw for the first time the force Sterling Lex had gathered to oppose Gabirel and its allies. He guessed the enemy outnumbered Gabirel at least ten to one. Even Sebastian’s untrained eye could tell this was no cohesive fighting unit.
Sterling Lex’s army was not organized chaos, it was chaos. Groups of mismatched tents and shelters stretched across the valley to the west of Cinaeth, between the keep and the graveyard and it reminded Sebastian more of a country fair than anything else. Fighting men strutted about the camp, with their armaments in full display, while women and camp-followers thronged everywhere. The lilt of music drifted from across the camp as did the sound of fights breaking out. The army, if you could call it that, seemed unaware that their enemy was out of sight over the rise.
Far to the right, separated from both Sterling Lex’s forces around Cinaeth and the Gabirelean army stood a third encampment. Smaller than both the armies facing off, a row of red-robed figures stood alongside the group of tents. What were the Krenon doing here?
Valeria answered, as if she could read his mind, “They have come as witnesses. Magic will be used in battle today for the first time since the Dragon Wars. The very thing they are sworn to prevent. Put them out of your mind. I doubt they will intervene until the battle is done.”
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