“I'm being forced to tell you that even as we speak, they are hanging people,” said Herio as he took a defiant step away from Dunvel. “Captain Brutus of the Army of Goll is hanging one poor soul a day until Sergeant Dunvel and I return with you. He's not foolin' around, sire. He began with my little brother.” And in spite of his brave posture, he choked on a sob as tears raced down his freckles to his chin.
Dunvel stared at Hebraun with a face of arrogant challenge.
Minuet was on her feet at once, holding Herio as he dropped to his knees and gave great whooping sobs into her bodice. She looked up at Hebraun with eyes of fire. “We're going to Lukus's room until he's able to bear up,” she said as she helped Herio to his feet.
Dunvel swaggered into her path. “I'm afraid I can't allow you to do that, Your Majesty,” he said. “I've my orders to return post-haste with the boy and the king. Any delays will just cause more deaths in Ash Fork.”
“Within these walls, we allow you, and unless you prefer to spend the next six months in our custody, Sergeant, this child will be allowed to rest,” she said as she swept past. “Then we'll see if he returns to Ash Fork or not.”
“Your queen has just caused some poor soul his life,” said Dunvel, wheeling back to face Hebraun.
“Your outrageous stupidity in the presence of monarchs I find right amusing, Sergeant,” said Hebraun as he rose to tower above Dunvel, “but that's all I find amusing. Everything else about you I find intensely putrid. You shall address my queen with utmost respect. And as for jeopardizing lives in Ash Fork, it's you and your army who are doing that, for which you shall all pay dearly!”
“I didn't come here to be pushed around, sire! Am I to understand that you're sending me back alone to convey your threat?”
“Hardly, Sergeant,” said Hebraun with a smile, as he sat down again on his throne. “I fully intend to go to Ash Fork. Whether the boy goes or not remains to be seen. Meanwhile, why don't you just tell me everything the boy was supposed to tell me. There was more, wasn't there? I'm sure it will save time, and you being so concerned with the lives of those in Ash Fork, you'll jump at the chance, right?”
“Uh, yes,” said Dunvel, with a sigh at the chore. Nevertheless, he spewed forth an elaborated version of the same things which Herio had told.
Hebraun merely nodded as if it all was exactly what he had expected to hear.
“Begging your pardon, sire,” said Dunvel as he shifted from foot to foot, “but shouldn't we be on our way?”
“Polite all at once are we?” said Hebraun without bothering to look at him.
Presently Minuet swept back into the room with Herio, who was now completely composed and wearing some of Lukus's old clothes. She took her seat immediately as she guided Herio to stand right beside her. She took up Hebraun's hand and squeezed it. They held each other's eyes for several heartbeats of understanding and then turned as one to look at Dunvel.
Hebraun rose from his throne without a word and drew Minuet up to stand beside him. He nodded ever so slightly at his guards before fixing his eyes on Dunvel.
“See him to the courtyard and wait for me there,” he said as they stepped up to surround Dunvel.
Dunvel shamelessly flung a conceited look at Herio as he turned to go.
Hebraun spared a kindly glance at Herio and then took both of Minuet's hands and looked into her eyes. “I love you more than words can tell,” he said.
“And I love you,” she said as they squeezed hands.
Hebraun stepped smartly from the dais with her, as Herio scrambled to follow, out into the courtyard where the guards waited with Dunvel. He paused by Vindicator, his huge white march streiciwr brenhinol stallion unicorn and kissed Minuet farewell. He quickly found his stirrup, threw his leg over his mount and looked down at Herio. “I need you to stay here to protect the queen.”
Herio drew himself up and nodded fiercely as Minuet drew him to her side.
“Besides,” said Hebraun as he gave a beady-eyed nod at Dunvel, “You might want to testify when that thing has its trial.”
Herio's eyes flashed as he nodded and stood proudly beside his queen.
Hebraun shared one last gaze with Minuet then urged his great white unicorn to the gate and vanished. Herio turned aside to see Minuet's eyes brimming with tears as she stood tall and proud, making her way back to her duties. He trailed along beside her after pausing to see Dunvel being led away to some place fitting.
Herio's face firmed in resolve. That goblin would share his brother's fate if he had any say in the matter.
***
Soldiers and citizens took up their longbows and swarmed out to join King Hebraun the moment he rode through the castle gates. By the time he made camp in the Ash Mountains under thick grey skies two days later, he had an army ten thousand strong which he had sorted into two divisions of forty-five hundred apiece and a third of his one thousand fastest riders. He paced between his campfire and his tent, pausing here and there to study the horizon to the south. Suddenly there came three riders, one of them an Elf.
“Captain Bernard,” he said as Bernard dismounted from the first unicorn. “I was beginning to worry.”
“We made it almost to the south end of the Ash Mountains, almost to where you'll undoubtedly make camp tomorrow,” said Bernard. “I can't for the life of me imagine what they're doing. I was convinced when we left Castle Niarg that we'd 'ave seen signs of something before we got as far as we did, but we saw nothing. Nothing at all. Not even any sign that they had once been where we were.”
Herbaun wrinkled his brow as he studied the stone he was rolling around with the toe of his boot.
“So if they're a-fixin' to set up an ambush in the valley,” said Bernard, “they've either done so less than a league beyond where we got to, clean to the absolute south end, or else they're counting on us being slow and have yet to come up the valley with troops to lay it.”
“So we're safe for the night at least, you think?” said Hebraun.
“Oh I'd reckon so, if everyone's mounted by the first light. So should we turn right around after we change mounts and have a sup, or do ye reckon we can sleep for a couple of hours first?”
“You've been most of the way. You tell me. I want to come as near to doing this as I can without losing a single man. And I mean a single man. Each one of these fellows has a wife or kids or somebody. So that means we must see the enemy first, and that's on you. Also, I want to know as much I possibly can along the way, especially how many. And you know, I've not kept up with their small arms. What do most of 'em have? That stinker who brought the kid had a crossbow. Any of you three have an idea?”
“Just hearsay,” said the Elf, known as Sulacha, a skilled tracker and woodsman sent by Neron to aid Niarg in case of emergency, “but I don't think they've caught onto the longbow...”
“Well, I want you to find out if you can.”
“I think we can manage on two hours' sleep,” said Bernard, “and if we don't get to sleep, we'll just take off.”
***
By the evening of the next day, Hebraun had assigned his two large divisions positions along each side of the valley. The small division he would take with him the rest of the way to Ash Fork. He brought them to a halt between two peaks near the end of the valley that ran the southern length of the Ash Mountain Range, a good two leagues beyond sight of Ash Fork. Bernard and his scouts returned with the astonishing report that there was no sign of the enemy anywhere outside the immediate vicinity of Ash Fork.
However, they reckoned the enemy to number above thirteen thousand.
The following morning, on a low prominence, he turned his great unicorn to face his men as the icy wind whipped through his hair and cape. He searched the faces of his soldiers for a long while before he spoke.
“Now you must await my return! I will take my Lightning Division with me to engage the enemy and lure them back here, where we will dispense with them easily, teaching them what it means to burn down Niarg vil
lages! Keep your campfires small, smokeless and completely hidden (if you need them at all) while I'm gone! Keep sentries posted up the slopes on both sides to watch for our return, so that you will be absolutely certain to be in your positions well before we get here!” He looked up at the sky. Flakes of snow were flying. He took Captain Bernard and the Lightning Division and rode hard until they reached a low ridge overlooking the remains of Ash Fork. There they waited as they sent forth two score riders with a white flag of truce, to demand that the Gollians withdraw in peace. About an hour before noon, one riderless unicorn returned, the white flag of truce tied to its saddle, soaked with blood.
“Well, that's their answer,” said Hebraun grimly as he examined the unicorn. He squeezed shut his eyes and turned away.
“I still can't figure out what they're doing,” said Bernard. “But it seems obvious that they're determined to have us attack them straight on right where they are.”
“They want us coming at them in a blind fury to hit them head on,” said Hebraun. “That's why they massacred our party. One would think that they would have some strategy for outflanking us, but the terrain doesn't look right for that. If they've any plans to flank us at all, they'll most likely plan to wait until after we've engaged them.”
“If ye don't mind my butting in,” said Sulacha, “I say they're convinced that we don't have the numbers.”
“You have to be right,” said Hebraun.
Hebraun gathered his troops and made ready to attack Ash Fork. They mounted and lined up in ranks, waiting quietly as he took his place smartly before them on his great white unicorn. He paused before he spoke as he studied their faces. “Gentlemen!” he said, calling out. “Our sortie is going to be made up of maneuvers we do during our first Sunday of the month games! We will ride in formation until I give the order to spread ranks. Then, we will engage the enemy by halting when I order, a good furlong or two short of them, and by doing the volley-and-fly! So pair up and decide who holds reins and who will loose the three arrows! That ought to inspire the whole lot of them to come back to the valley with us...!”
Cheers, laughter and applause broke out with a roar through the ranks. Spirits were high. They had become a nation of expert archers during his reign and they knew it.
Hebraun nodded and grinned and waited for them to fall silent. “I will not deceive you,” he said, seeking out face after face throughout their numbers, “for we ride to war this day, a war we neither started nor wanted, but a war which came uninvited, right in through our back door here in Ash Fork! We have been attacked and innocent women and children have been deliberately and cruelly put to death because of the lies of the evil queen who seeks to destroy and rule us! But she will not manage, not this day nor any other, for we ride forth to kick her royal butt! We ride forth for our very freedom!”
“Sire!” said Bernard, nodding at Ash Fork. “Look yonder at the dust rising! They're on their way!”
“Well, the volley-and-fly still seems right,” said Hebraun as he studied the dust clouds. “You and the scouts stay abreast of me. Help me watch.” He turned smartly aside in his saddle and waved. “They come!” he hollered. “Follow me! For Niarg!”
They sallied forth at a canter on his heels, rank upon rank into the open grassland to meet the Gollians as they swelled out from the land about Ash Fork in a colossal wave, steel glinting in the billowing dust.
Niarg began spreading out to meet them. Suddenly, Hebraun wheeled and raised his arms, and his entire division came to a precipitous halt. Half of his men leaped forth to kneel abreast with longbows drawn, aimed aloft at thirty degrees, while the others each readied a pair of unicorns for the return sprint. Hebraun raised his arm. “Loose!” he bellowed as his arm came down. Five hundred arrows went aloft, then another and yet another five hundred. Gollian unicorns fell to their knees and rolled as scores of Gollian soldiers tumbled to the ground. In a blink of an eye, Hebraun's men were mounted and flying back to the mountains with the Gollians in furious pursuit.
After a breathless pounding ride back across the grassland of Ashmore, Hebraun raced into the mouth of the great valley of the Ash Mountains, as his Lightning Division pummeled the ground behind him for a good half mile. The first of the enemy bore down on them from behind no more than a furlong away and the rest of their vast number stretched behind that for nearly a league. He searched the basin and flanks of the hills
'round about for signs of his other divisions. He was relieved that they were nowhere to be seen. At last, as he neared a great cottonwood tree that he had picked as a marker to measure one league in from the mouth, he drew forth his horn and gave out a ringing blast. Niarg longbowmen stepped forth from hiding everywhere up and down both sides of that measured league of valley to loose a decisive rain of arrows upon the Gollians, turning them into a rearing, roiling pandemonium of terror, caught completely without cover. He halted his men and commanded them to attack the stumbling Gollian vanguard behind them.
Without warning Vindicator threw Hebraun as he stumbled and fell to his knees with a crossbow quarrel in his brisket, rolling to a stop across his withers.
“No!” cried Hebraun, springing to his feet. Vindicator raised his head from the ground to let it fall.
Suddenly Hebraun realized that the waft which he had just felt prickling one ear was a blade. There stood Brutus with his sword, trying to kill him.
With a sweeping ring he drew the very claymore he had used to kill Razorback as he ducked and dodged Brutus's swings. It no longer bore Razzmorten's enchantment, but he felt sure of himself for he had always been an expert swordsman. Suddenly he could see that it had been a very long time. His swings were alarmingly slow and clumsy compared to Brutus's.
Brutus lunged forward with a furious swing, nicking Hebraun's breastplate as Hebraun ducked aside and stumbled. Brutus swung again, accidentally striking the dead limb of a fallen elm, glancing recklessly wide.
“One for Herio!” roared Hebraun, finding his balance, as he came down on Brutus's neck with a decisive swing, sending his head bouncing away into the weeds.
Hebraun wheeled this way and that to be ready for his next assailant only to discover that the battle was already over. There lay Spitemorta's army in a blood spattered disarray of swords, pikes and crossbows, with arrows sticking out all over. He knelt by Vindicator and patted his neck. He had been his giant companion ever since he had married Minuet. He removed a gauntlet and wiped an eye as he stood up and turned away. Wet snow was sweeping in faster and sticking to everything.
“Oh Fates! You've lost Vindicator!” said Bernard as he came up, taking careful steps around the dead. “I'm so sorry, sire!”
“How many have we lost?”
“I've really no idea yet, but I only know of seven so far from the Lightning Division, and I've not heard of a single death amongst either of the big divisions. This is more stunning than any victory I've ever heard tell of. Everyone seems to be in a state of jubilant disbelief...”
“No one's seen Ash Fork yet, Captain,” said Hebraun. “We need to set up an overnight encampment at once. It could get very cold.”
***
As the first red light lit the snow, Hebraun was on his feet, listening to owls in the timber up the slopes. He wandered out amongst the bodies of men and unicorns, pausing here and there to study the sky.
“Good morning, sire,” said Bernard as he hurried to catch up, wending his way with Sulacha. “What's on your mind this morning?”
“Trying to find the words for what I think of Spitemorta...” he said, shaking his head.
“Difficult, aye?”
“I just don't have the vocabulary.”
For a moment, the three of them fell silent, looking about.
“So Captain,” said Hebraun. Is there a tally?”
“Two score and seven of ours, we think...”
“That's four score and seven, counting those I sent to their deaths in Ash Fork...” he said, biting his lip as a tear raced down his che
ek to the bristles on his chin. “That's a lot o' poor little kids.”
“But sire, there's never been a victory such as this.”
“Maybe. But when I came to the throne I promised that no one would die.”
“Forgive me sire, I know you have a heavy heart because you are the kindest and greatest king who's ever lived, but I can't help but have a little joy in my step when we took such an evil army and swatted them clean flat.”
“So how many did we flatten?” said Hebraun. “Do you know?”
“It's still just guesses, twelve or thirteen thousand...”
“Shall we search for survivors, Your Majesty?” said a young officer, making his way toward them.
“Yes, but leave none alive, Lieutenant,” he said, standing straight, “and dispatch any suffering beasts, too. In fact we need to get everyone doing this. We don't have time to waste.”
“Understood, Your Majesty. Should we form details to bury the dead?”
“Only ours,” said Hebraun with a shake of his head. “We have to get to Ash Fork with all haste. Following a harpy for a queen earns vultures, I reckon. Lightning Division and I will leave at once for Ash Fork. The other divisions are to follow immediately upon the burial of our soldiers and the collection of arms and arrows.”
As the lieutenant and his party hurried away, Bernard gave Hebraun an understanding pat on the back.
***
They could see that every building had been burnt to the ground as they rode into Ash Fork, straining to see if anyone remained alive. At last they were close enough to make out people, but they were the headless corpses of the men Hebraun had sent in with the flag of truce. There was utterly no livestock to be seen, but here and there a dog barked. Wending a short way in between the ashes of buildings they came to a stop, stunned to behold a long mound of bodies piled down the center of the street in front of where the tavern had been.
A dog was busy feeding on the corpse of a woman. Sulacha dropped it with a keen eyed twang of his Elven bow before it had scarcely looked up.
“That must be everyone who lived here, except for Herio,” said Bernard.
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