Merrie Dawn

by Chris

  "But she has power! As much as the most gifted izzen of legend. More. She's been gifted by a God."

  Elias's protective wards flared freshly and he saw movement on the opposite side of the road. It wasn't wind or rain. "The faspane are watching," he said softly, indicating the trees on the far side with his bow. "They must know we're close. No magic. I'll keep an eye on them."

  The foot soldiers regrouped and charged the riders once more, several slipping in the mud. The mounted soldiers repulsed them. Just before the next charge, Elias noticed the Princess's soldiers moving to try another break.

  Allyn said, "Ignore the faspane. When you see a weak spot in the attackers' line, hit it. Make sure the princess goes into the trees over here rather than down the road."

  Elias heard a woman scream and saw Princess Caroline clutching her shoulder, blood seeping through her fingers and mingling with the rain running down her cloak.

  Elias pulled an arrow from his quiver, suddenly sure this is what he had been called for. Born for. He knew it within the depths of his being. The Goddess of Healing was making a play at power and he was part of it.

  He nocked the arrow and drew to his cheek, the bow's magic tingling his fingertips as he counted to ten and let fly. The arrow did not arc. It flew flat with the power of a catapult. It struck a man in the back, smashed through his chain mail and slammed through the man beyond him. A third man, ready to swing at a horse, jerked and crumpled from the same arrow. A hint of green energy discharged around their wounds. Hopefully none of the nearby faspane were gifted with magical sight.

  Another man in a white tabard turned to see what had happened and a horse kicked him in the head. Elias released another arrow, the force of its strike throwing a soldier into the man before him and killing them both. He drew again, counted to four and let fly, the arrow punching through a man's neck.

  It was enough to create a small gap in the fighting. Fandelyon's Captain yelled an order and the circle opened, allowing four soldiers to charge out ahead of the royal party. More followed. Others kept enemies from chasing them.

  As the old priest went down on a thrust intended for a soldier the remaining maid fell screaming from her horse, her cries stopping as she struck the ground. The princess reigned in her mount to help the maid, but a soldier yelled and slapped her horse's rump, forcing her into the trees.

  Allyn touched Elias's shoulder. "Keep as many foot soldiers here as you can. The Princess's men can't afford this again."

  "No problem, as long as they and the faspane don't see me."

  "If they do, lead them in another direction. You'll be able to lose them in the forest. I'm going to follow the girl and try to separate her from the rest. Catch up when you can."

  "Good luck," Elias said as Allyn departed. He drew another arrow and let fly at a running man without waiting for the bow's magic to give it power. The man fell.

  He held the next arrow for a count of eight before letting it fly. It struck the enemy commander. The arrow punched through his gilded breastplate and threw him into the tree behind him, pinning him there. Elias drew another arrow to his cheek, allowing the magic to build for several seconds.

  He released, and two more men died. Unfortunately, he'd chosen front-runners and those behind took notice. A good number turned and charged at him. "And curse me for stupidity." He shouldered his bow and ran.

  Chapter 4

  Caroline rode as hard as the trees, brush and uneven ground would let her. Her injured left shoulder and short stirrups slowed her, her back jarring with each stride. She barely kept her balance with the unsure grip of her calves. Others carried injuries, some much more serious than her own, but she could only assume Captain Bastion kept up the pace in the hope of resting some distance from the road.

  Poor Tellise. Her maid had fallen, trampled. Thank the Higher Realm Caroline wasn't bringing her baby home… She glanced at her wrists. Perhaps the Goddess of Healing really did have her best interests at heart.

  They slowed for a deadfall, changing direction a few yards beyond it as thick bushes and a nasty slope barred the way. A low branch slapped Caroline's shoulder and she cried out, struggling to hold onto the saddle with her good hand. As soon as she righted herself she kicked her horse up the slope again, grimacing at the chafing on her thighs and knees.

  "Hard eastward at the top of the slope," Captain Bastion yelled.

  Caroline cantered the last few yards up the hill before pulling up. No one turned. Instead, they went straight down the other side. She slapped the reins on her horse's neck and it jumped forward, making her grip its mane with her good hand. She held tighter as the horse slipped on mud and debris, each time barely regaining its footing.

  She sensed her horse begin to balk at a fallen tree trunk, but she forced the animal to jump over it. She fell hard against its neck when its hooves hit, the impact jarring her shoulder. She cried out and came close to toppling off, clinging desperately to the mane before righting herself. She wasn't sure if it was tears or rain on her face now.

  Everyone waited at the bottom of the slope where Caroline pulled up behind Jared and Jonathan. Jared looked pale.

  "Jared?" she asked. The twin gave her a brief nod over his shoulder.

  Feeling no better, she held her aching shoulder. The bleeding had mostly stopped. The rain hadn't, though the full brunt of the storm had passed.

  With numb fingers she managed to adjust one stirrup as Kirsty, the soldier holding Rhonda, and the rear guard caught up. Rhonda looked ready to pass out, a nasty bruise already showing on her forehead from her fall.

  "Are you okay?" Caroline asked Rhonda, wondering if she should ask a reprieve from Captain Bastion. Rhonda looked her way, but couldn't seem to focus.

  "Forward!" Captain Bastion ordered.

  "Hold tight, Rhonda. The Divine Lady of Healing is looking after you," Caroline said as she kicked her horse into a canter. They rode over the next rise, turning at the bottom. They slowed to follow a freshly flowing watercourse for a few minutes, and then moved into the trees again.

  Her shoulder ached deep inside. When Rhonda and the soldier supporting her caught up, Caroline found her friend unconscious, slumped but held upright. The guard's nickname came to her. Grimms. "Is Rhonda..." she couldn't say the last word. Alive. A sickly feeling filled her stomach, and she didn't know whether it was a reaction to the fight or Rhonda's condition.

  Kirsty appeared close to tears. "Rhonda was marked by the Divine Lady of Healing. Surely She'll protect her?"

  Grimms nodded. "She'll be fine, Lady Kirsty. She passed out, is all."

  "Attention," Bastion called. "We'll try and go more quietly from here. If anyone gets separated, head for the main pass but stay off the road for as long as you can. If you're threatened, try to get into the next valley instead. There's a clansmen's village there. We've had no trouble from the clans for several decades and they seem to be on good terms with King Phillip. They may even help if offered gold, but should at least let us pass without trouble. For now, we'll go north-east and swing north-west within the hour."

  They started out again. Caroline rode behind Jared and Jonathan, holding her horse's mane and letting it pick its own path. She listened for the men in white tabards, wishing she knew who they served, but heard only the gradually easing rain. She turned in her saddle and found Kirsty crying softly as she rode ahead of her injured sister.

  "Kirsty," she whispered."

  "I'm fine, My Lady," her friend said with a sniff before touching her nose to the back of her left arm. "Honestly."

  Rhonda remained slumped, her wet hair plastered across her face in water-dark streaks. Caroline slowed her horse and took Kirsty's hand. "I'm sure Rhonda will be fine. A night's rest and she'll be telling us we look terrible." Kirsty smiled a little, but her expression was edged with fear.

  "Time to move faster," Bastion called.

  Caroline let Kirsty's hand drop and followed Bastion's lead. They rode at a f
ast walk while the gloom deepened and the cold of evening began to bite. Everyone kept their hands close and their wet cloaks drawn tight.

  Stiff with tension, soaked through and shivering, Caroline listened for danger. There was an abbey devoted to the Divine Lord Toram du Grah a few miles north of where they'd been attacked, but she guessed trying to get to it would be too dangerous.

  "Hold!" called Bastion. Caroline stopped her horse and wiped her face with icy fingers. The rain had eased, but the trees continued to drip.

  Their path led onto a stone outcrop, but part of it had broken away to create a drop of fifteen feet. Water collected at the base, rippling with heavy drops from the trees. Flowering redberry bushes full of thorns overgrew the left slope, preventing them going around. They would have to cross here or double back and find another way. Bastion spoke. "We'll cross in single file. We can't afford to let those bast..." He glanced at the ladies. "Those men catch up again."

  It looked like a perfect place for an ambush. Caroline stared at the drop. "The outcrop's too narrow," she said, her voice too weak to carry to any ears besides her own. Shivering, she sneezed drips from her nose. Bastion signalled a man forward. Caroline watched anxiously as the soldier moved his horse onto the outcrop. The shod hooves rang on wet stone but the rider passed without mishap.

  As the next soldier rode across Caroline caught Rhonda's hand and gave it a slight squeeze. Rhonda opened her eyes, clearly disorientated as she looked about. Rhonda's brothers and Kirsty quickly surrounded them. "Rhonda," Caroline said, relieved her friend was awake.

  "Princess," Rhonda murmured, holding up her free hand. Her sleeve slipped back, revealing a luminous flower. She smiled and gave Caroline's hand a slight squeeze. "She promised it wouldn't hurt, and it doesn't."

  "What do you mean?" she asked as Captain Bastion ordered Jared and Jonathan to cross.

  "Promise me you'll protect her," Rhonda whispered.

  "Who?" Caroline asked.

  "Grimms, you'd better cross now with Lady Rhonda," Sergeant Graden said.

  "No," Rhonda said. "Not yet." She gripped Caroline's hand tighter.

  Grimms nodded to Caroline. "Why don't you cross, Your Highness?"

  "Protect Kirsty. Promise me you'll look after her. Always."

  "Of course," Caroline said. "I have to go now," she said as she disengaged her hand from Rhonda's.

  It was only a short walk, no more than twelve feet, but a sense of fear settled over her as she nudged her horse onto the broken outcrop. Her horse's hooves seemed to ring out on the stone louder than any previous horse, and an eternity passed before soft earth muffled the sound. She trotted her horse the last few steps, hoping no one could see her hands shaking or hear the pounding sound her pulse made in her ears. Despite the chill and wet clothes, perspiration coated her upper lip.

  "Lady Kirsty," Bastion said, indicating the younger girl should cross.

  Kirsty raised her chin, clearly frightened, but Rhonda gripped her sister's arm. "Wait. Let me go first."

  Bastion gave Grimms a nod, and the soldier kicked his horse into motion.

  "Forgive her," Rhonda said to Kirsty as they clattered onto the outcrop. "You're her strength." They'd hardly taken three steps when the horse slipped.

  Caroline's heart skipped a beat.

  "Rhonda!" Kirsty cried as the horse fell, its legs still struggling for footing.

  Grimms tried to throw himself and Rhonda clear, but as the horse went over and they fell beneath it. Rhonda never made a sound, but the soldier cried out before water engulfed him and the horse's body crushed them both.

  Water splashed nearly as high as the ledge. Caroline felt frozen in place while the pool settled. Only part of the horse's chest and the soldier's limp arm and leg remained visible.

  "Rhonda!" Kirsty screamed again.

  Two soldiers dismounted and made their way down to the pool. "Quickly!" Caroline cried. "Please!" She stared at the luminous markings on her wrists. What was the point of Rhonda entering Divine Service if a Goddess couldn't even protect her?

  She took a deep breath, preparing to speak the words revoking her calling, but hesitated. Once revoked, she'd never be able to return to the Divine Lady's graces. Not in this life, at least, and maybe not in any other. She wiped her eyes dry and buried her wrists from sight, not that anyone else here could see her markings now.

  Rhonda must have been told this would happen, and she'd accepted her fate regardless. The sickly realisation made the situation worse.

  If Caroline denied the Lady of Healing now it would be a poor way to repay Rhonda's sacrifice. The scriptures were always talking about Divine Balance and how the Gods couldn't intervene without keeping it. She wiped her eyes clear again, determined to ensure Rhonda's death meant something.

  Someone chuckled from the trees beyond the basin. Caroline looked around as an izzat stepped into sight. His long dark hair, shot through with grey, was plastered to his head and held back in a ponytail to reveal tall, pointed ears turned forward for listening. Dressed in dark brown leathers, the hilts of his sword and dagger had been bound in black cord to avoid catching light. His green eyes and high cheekbones stood out. Everything else about him blended into the gloom. He lifted a crossbow and aimed it at Kirsty. Caroline caught her breath. A slip and she'd be dead.

  "I overheard one of your enemies. They seek the girls."

  He had a thick accent Caroline had never heard before. He raised his crossbow slightly, the bolt now aimed at Kirsty's throat. Kirsty sat rigid, shaking slightly but not looking away.

  "If you throw me enough gold I'll let you all pass and confuse your trail. If you don't, I'll kill this one myself."

  "May the Gods strike you!" one of the men called. Halfway to Rhonda, he drew his sword. A bolt thumped into his ribs. He cried out and toppled, his body splashing into the pond. Caroline caught Kirsty's eye and saw her own fears reflected.

  "We'll be okay," she tried to reassure her friend.

  Another man began to ride between Caroline and the izzat, but the izzat shifted his crossbow, stopping him. The bolt hadn't come from him. "I'll kill the girls first, and I've more than enough friends to help me." The soldier stopped, jaw clenched with anger.

  "Your gold, including all the jewellery the girls are wearing."

  Caroline touched her throat as she caught a nod from Bastion. Too cowed to protest, she pulled the necklace her mother had given her free from under her clothes and lifted it over her head. The round ruby was polished flat, the middle hollowed out. A fine circle of gold edged it and joined it to the chain. A ransom for any noble, and then some.

  She looked up at the sound of a thump, surprised to see a yard-long arrow through the izzat's stomach. Something green flickered around the wound, like strangely-coloured lightning. The izzat's crossbow fell from limp fingers and he collapsed to his knees, a hand grasping the arrow. Caroline glanced around, but none of her soldiers had a bow. They appeared just as confused.

  A voice she didn't recognise shouted from the trees. "Cross! There's more faspane around."

  An arrow whizzed over the party, flying high into the trees. Someone screamed and crashed through the branches before hitting the ground with a solid thud. She couldn't see where the izzat fell, but heard a moan.

  Fire erupted well off to Caroline's left and someone screamed. Her skin crawled with goose bumps.

  "Izzen!" Someone yelled the word in the same accent the first izzat had used. Izzen killing izzen? It made no sense, but people were crashing through the woods in almost every direction.

  Soldiers surrounded Caroline and Kirsty. "Where's the bowman?" Caroline cried.

  "Do as he says," yelled Bastion as he signalled his men across the outcrop. "Get over here! We can't be divided."

  "It could be a trap," one man yelled. The soldiers on the other side hesitated.

  "Cross! Now!"

  Another scream broke from the forest, but Caroline heard no bolts. It s
eemed to be a signal. One soldier spurred his horse past Kirsty and clattered over the outcrop. Another man nudged Kirsty's horse with the flat of his sword. It jumped ahead, forcing Kirsty to hold the saddle as it crossed. Caroline held her breath until Kirsty arrived safely. The younger girl rode straight to Caroline, her hands shaking and her face white.

  Caroline gripped her friend's hands. "We're okay. Bastion will keep us safe and we'll come back for Rhonda."

  The surviving man who'd gone to retrieve Rhonda and the fallen soldier ran back to his horse. The next horse and rider to cross slipped but recovered, and the rest made it, amid yelling and another cry from the forest.

  "Forward," Bastion yelled. Caroline slipped her mother's necklace back on and spurred her horse into a dangerous canter. Kirsty rode close behind her, crying Rhonda's name over and over.

  The underbrush thinned for a moment before thickening, forcing them to slow to a trot until they were able to canter again. Holding on as tight as she could, Caroline bent low in her saddle, her eyes on the soldier before her. Something whizzed by and she heard someone nearby crash to the ground behind her.

  Kirsty! She glanced back, but her friend was safe, riding a couple of lengths behind. Caroline's pulse threatened to pound her into unconsciousness and fear told her she'd never get home if she stopped. She let her horse choose its own way, her biggest concern holding on. As the column thinned, she lost track of everyone but Kirsty. She hoped her war-horse knew where it was going.

  It wasn't long before her pace slackened off, the overworked horse tiring. Caroline tried to focus on the forest and on making sure Kirsty stayed behind her, just as Rhonda should be. She suppressed another pang of grief.

  She slowed to a walk and stopped as Kirsty pulled up beside her, followed by a soldier bleeding fiercely from a gash across his forehead.

  "We better keep moving, Highness," the soldier said. "Quietly. No telling if those cursed izzen are about." He glanced around nervously. "These aren't mountains to be lost in. There's snake people who'll drag you off to their caves, clansmen, outlaws, bears, wolves, and who knows what else?"