Fletcher

by P. S. Power

  Their old Wizard nodded.

  “They’re withdrawing. More, they’re moving their secret weapon away. What it is still isn’t a thing I can see. It’s moving at this moment, along with those remaining in their force who can move. They flee to the border of Yanse. At least that’s what the men are thinking. If it’s a trick, it’s a very good one.”

  The news left Anders feeling numb. Part of him wanted to not move or speak. To simply sit there, his belly full, his head filling with tiredness on a level that only children can truly experience. The rest of him knew better than to do that.

  Standing, he nodded.

  “We need a watch on the lake side. I’ll go see to that for the first section. I can work on fletching while I do that.” No one told him no or called out that he was too injured. They simply let him go.

  Cleaning up wasn’t that hard for him. Due to his hunting and the obvious needs of tending to clothing where they were, he’d made up a word for blood that worked in spells. It didn't matter whose it was. That of an animal, his own, or a fallen enemy. It felt hard to make it work but he did it anyway, breathing hard as he pulled it off.

  Then, tidier by far, his skin and clothing free of blood, dirt and sweat, Anders collected his gear and set to making new arrows. He had enough staves left, already cleaned and straightened. There was no way he could move as quickly out there as he could have normally, in a nice and well-appointed shop with real work tables. Still, as the hours passed, a nice pile of new arrows, perfect for his bow, grew.

  Almost all of the arrow heads came from the enemy’s expended ammunition. Carefully, since he knew he was tired, he placed spells on all the new arrows. Where they hit, the world would freeze, for ten paces in all directions. That was a huge area, now that he thought about it. A great thing, since too many of his shots had missed. They would have been far more effective on land, where even a missed target would release the spell.

  Finally, six hours later, evening starting to fall, four men came to him.

  “We have the watch, Master Brolly.”

  Standing up, since he’d been working at his arrows still, he nodded.

  “Did you all get a chance to sleep?”

  The one who had spoken nodded. He looked older. He wasn’t. The man could be in his second decade. He looked to be closer to his third.

  “As we could. You know how that goes.”

  The words didn’t imply anything at all. They stated that anyone who had been there knew what would be happening when they closed their eyes. A thing that Anders truly did understand.

  “Call for me, if anything is visible.” Then he stopped, feeling slow and foolish. “Wait.” He had to find more rocks, from further down the shore. Collecting ten of them up, he placed spells on them all.

  “These will freeze things if they come at you. They have to hit hard to be activated. That means sinking them into the water won’t help you. It’s something.”

  The men all nodded, allowing him to leave then.

  Back in his tiny hut, a thing that apparently looked like a special outhouse to men from Yanse, at least at night, he slept. Fitfully, with dark dreams balancing sudden awakenings. Still, it was just turning dark when he laid down and just light as he rose. No one had called for him, meaning that they were safe on the lake side of things.

  Which, over the next days, became safer still. Realizing that threats could come from that direction, the men built a stout wall of logs, so that it would be defensible, if another attack came.

  For Anders, his main task was suddenly working with Master Tolan, primarily passing messages. Working together they were able to contact the castle each evening, even if not much new was happening at all. On the fifth day after the battle, just before the mid-day meal, the relief forces came. That was reported to the King almost instantly, with Anders doing the work for it, Aisla passing the word for them on the far side.

  Master Tolan nodded, being in a trance to receive any information on the far side.

  “Those wounded who can travel are to be sent back. Two wagons from here will be used for that. Prince Alpert is being recalled. Master Tolan and Anders Brolly are being recalled. Command is given to General Hauser.”

  Captain Horner made a face then. It seemed to be over his loss of command there, until he spoke.

  “They’re taking our best hunter away, naturally. All the magic we have with us as well. Not that forces like ours march with magic often. That, your skills, made a difference, gentlemen. You’ll be leaving in the morning?”

  Prince Alpert nodded.

  “Unless our orders are different than that. Probably not. Being recalled is pretty specific and will mean making best speed. That won’t be fast, traveling with the wounded.”

  There was no feeling of relief then. The war was clearly not over at all. Master Tolan spoke of larger forces amassing across the border already. That meant something far more real was beginning, most likely. No one understood exactly why that was, either. At least not anyone that had bothered to mention it to him.

  Later, after moving to greet the new people, they settled again, around a small fire.

  The new general, a thin, rather tall man with dusty clothing and a gray mustache, knew far less than they did. He’d marched with over a thousand foot-soldiers, five hundred horse, light and medium, with over a hundred full knights. That and a thousand levies, who were essentially archers. Their new base was going to be further to the east, closer to Yanse.

  “It will save us more time, later, when we move to destroy the invaders. You men did good work here, already. I saw the small mountain of spoils by the front gate. How is that being divided?” He stroked his mustache, as if that kind of thing was important at all.

  Captain Horner took a breath and looked at the man with just a hint of distaste.

  “The goods go directly to any man having made a known kill. The rest will be divvied evenly among all the defenders. We placed a little over three hundred with Master Brolly. He stopped the lake side invasion, using magic and arrows. He also took out many on the outer perimeter, using traps. Probably more than we’re counting for him, to be honest. Then there were about a hundred more witnessed kills. That leaves two hundred and sixty to be sorted to everyone else.”

  The new general, who had given his name as Coelder, shook his head.

  “One man took three hundred? And we’re getting to keep him? Or, no, Brolly was on the list for leaving. I don’t suppose you could speak to the King for us on that, Prince Alpert? Such a warrior would be most welcome under my command. Though I can see the King wanting him held back as well. If such a fighter could be sent to needed locations, with some rapidity, that might make a difference in situations where large forces could not reach a situation in time to be of aid. Still, I should meet him, before you all leave. See if I can talk him around to working with me in the future.”

  The words were humorous, after a fashion. Not a jest, if he was judging that correctly.

  Prince Alpert turned away a bit, though Captain Horner waved his hand, indicating the boy who was seated near them.

  “This is Anders Brolly. Don’t be confused by his size, here. He’s actually twelve, not just short. Magician and archer. A good fletcher and hunter as well. You’re right though, General. If we can beg King Matheus to let him stay, or send him back to us, then we should. He’s a side relation to the King, so it might not happen. It could be hard, sending his own into danger like that.”

  The General smiled, seeming to find it funny. At first. Then, after a moment, looking at the others, he nodded.

  “Very good then Captain. Pen a letter to send back with the men to that effect.”

  The other man stood up instantly, to get his writing gear.

  Anders stood as well.

  “I need to pack up our things, Master Tolan. Then tend to the horses and make certain they’re fit to ride.” He should have done that sooner, regardless. They were his responsibility to care for.

  Prince Al
pert nodded.

  “Could you have a look at my two as well, Anders? There’s information to pass here still.”

  He nodded, making himself smile, even if he didn't feel like it.

  “Right away. Would you like me to see to the wagons, as well?”

  That got a head shake.

  “We’ll have the drivers do that. Thank you for the thought, Master Brolly.”

  With those words he was released, away from the new general. The horses were actually all fine and while they probably could have been fed a bit more, seemed strong and healthy to him. They were each patted and fed ripe red apples that he called from the woods, since it was a decent trick. That made him popular, in the horse field. They mobbed around him in fact, each trying to get their own treat. That meant finding apples with three more spells. In the end they all had several each, which allowed him to leave the field safely.

  Then he packed the gear up, making sure to take all of it he could.

  For travel he was moving with only twenty arrows again. The rest had the heads removed, to be taken with him. His packs were lighter this time, holding less sugar, flour and lard. Less glue as well. Master Tolan’s things were about the same, since less of what he’d brought was the kind of thing that would be used up.

  Then, after that, he went to sleep.

  It wasn’t easy or restful at all.

  Chapter twenty-six

  The trip back to the castle was different than the one going the other way. Part of the difference was that most of the mounted fighters were unharmed, being that they wore heavy armor when they fought. Of the twenty-eight men that had been hurt enough to need extra rest, most of them stayed behind. It might be weeks before they were ready to fight again but the new general was willing to have them help out in other ways while they did that, rather than take the risk of not having enough men later. That meant they had thirteen loaded into the backs of wagons for the trip home.

  There were four healthy guards as well, in case they had to fight off brigands or bandits that wanted to take the goods in the third wagon. That one had been a bit of a surprise for Anders. He’d heard Captain Horner say that there was supposed to be something for him, taken from the dead men, and as it turned out women, that he’d murdered. There hadn’t been a lot of those. Just ten. They were dressed the same as the men, in Yanse army outfits. What they were doing there, no one knew.

  The best guess was that they were part of some kind of magic using unit. One that had come in on the rafts, given where they were found. Probably being the ones who had been lighting the fire arrows.

  They’d died anyway, having magic or not.

  Anders had been a bit confused at first that there was a third wagon going with them, given the orders had spoken only of two of the things. It had been found on the main road, with two large horses that had been pulling it still attached, with both them and the men who had been in it having died as they’d tried to attack.

  Whatever had been in the back was gone, clearly having been carried away in the retreat. Meaning that the special and hidden weapon had to be gotten close to work. Also, that it was heavy, if not that large. Several of the soldiers rode on the front bench most of the time. The back was full. Mainly with armor, weapons and personal items that had belonged to the men going into battle.

  There was also a small but tidy collection of coins and jewelry that had come along with it. In the accounting they were saying that the wagon was his, since he’d taken out everything around it that might have hurt anyone. The horses pulling it currently belonged to the army, since Chestnut and Brownie weren’t trained for that kind of work.

  When they stopped, to give the horses water and to eat trail bread, if they could stomach it, Anders used magic to collect plants and a few times fished in the streams they passed. That meant cleaning the things and freezing them there, for cooking in the evening. Which turned out to be a good plan. While enough food had been sent for Prince Alpert, mainly made into hard bread, the rest were only given tough, very hard and dry crackers to eat. They were salted, which was considered a grand thing, by most of the men when they discussed it at mid-meal.

  When they stopped for the night he collected the wood for them all, started a decently large single fire in a rough pit that he’d made, then helped the injured make up their blankets on the ground. After that, he set to cooking. He had the gear for it, and some training, after all. The fish came out nicely enough, being better seasoned than they were used to having it in the camp. All of his herbs and spices had held up very well, after all.

  The water tight metal containers allowed him to keep the contents both dry and free of air that might have tainted the flavors. The meal wasn’t advanced, given it was only fish, cooked nuts and some ripe summer apples. Also, some fresh berries that were served on wild lettuce leaves. They had some wooden bowls, because each man had their own.

  They ate with their fingers, or used their belt knives, which had been standard at the camp. The Prince had been given forks and spoons to eat with, so those near him had as well. Those belonged to the army, so hadn’t come with them. It was going to make having stew interesting, he didn't doubt.

  Normally the men would use their flat bread as a scoop for that. A thing that he could manage a few times, with the flour he had left.

  Those with them weren’t comfortable at all. Most of them had lost something. Fingers and hands, mostly. One man had been run clean through with a spear, though for some reason it seemed he was going to live. No one was happy to be going home at all. They did cheer up a little bit when they were asked to bring their bowls over to collect their late meals.

  The first one there, who was unshaved and needed a bath pretty badly, his left hand wrapped up with bandages that were none to clean, smiled at him when he got there.

  “The food is for us, too? I’d figured it was just for you high types. We’d been told the general only wanted ter part with hard rations fer us. Savin’ the rest fer those like as to see more fighting.”

  Prince Alpert nodded, coming over for his own share of the food, standing in the line that had formed. There was more than enough for everyone, so that wouldn’t matter at all. There was a full fish per man and they weren’t small, for the most part. One person would get two that had managed to be smaller than the rest. It should balance out.

  The Prince smiled.

  “Anders got all of this for us. I have to admit, it’s better than the hard bread that I was expecting for my meal, too. Not that I’m going to complain about that too much. It’s better than what they gave you men. It isn’t perfect but we needed to leave as much with them as we could.”

  There was a bit of grumbling, which turned out to be good natured enough. Two of the men tried to turn down the greens, which got put in their bowls anyway.

  Anders frowned at them.

  “Eat it all. You men need to be healing now. This and cleaning your bandages for you is the best I can do. After the meal for that. Then, for the rest of the trip we’ll do that every morning. It won’t hurt anything.” He decided to do their clothing and if possible, work out how to cleanse their bodies. After being injured most of them had stopped washing themselves.

  Not that he had a way of doing that directly, yet.

  There was a bit of grousing about that as well, since he wasn’t a healer, just some jumped up boy that knew a few tricks. That got discussed for a while, as they ate their fish and even if it was a bit reluctant had the apples, nuts, berries and greens as well. No one left anything in their bowl at all, except a few men who had found fish bones. That was a sign of poor skill on his part.

  After the meal he cleaned the bowls for everyone, then did the bandages as well, which got the first man to gasp.

  “I thought you were jesting with us!” The bloody wrap over his stump was, if not white again, at least less brown with dried things.

  No one screamed in pain, though a few winced a couple of times as the cloth came away from their crusted over w
ounds. None of them started to bleed again, since the caked bandages let go only of what they held in them. Not what was under that.

  Their riding day had been longer than most of them on the trip out and the Prince didn’t have his attendant with him. Master Tolan did, so his horses were curried and combed, checked for welts or lumps carefully and given food and water. Prince Alpert tried to do his own horses, which went about as well as could be expected, given that he was the kind of person that rode horses, not cared for them.

  Anders didn’t laugh, since not two months prior he’d barely seen one of the beasts outside of the stables himself. Captain Ford had made sure he knew what to do. Interestingly, by getting Master Belford to come and give him daily riding lessons while speaking in the Yanse language.

  “Here. Check the belly for ridges or warm spots. They should be fine, being the first day out after a rest. Still, if we can catch any problems early we can prevent them from getting worse. The combing isn’t hard. Use the hard brush first and think about it like it was your own hair. If you pull it too hard, you’ll be in trouble for assaulting the Prince, so don’t do that.”

  His voice was flat, the words simply flowing a bit. Prince Alpert actually laughed.

  “Good point. I have done this before, I promise. It was about ten years ago though, so, let me…” He did a good enough job of it, once the tools were in his hands.

  After finishing his second horse, both tied to a sturdy tree not far from where they were sleeping, the man spoke again.

  “Now, we should try to get in touch with Princess Aisla. If we don’t then everyone will worry about us. Even if the only message we have is made good time.”

  Which was simply the truth. He wasn’t as saddle weary as he might have been but there was going to be some funny looking walking the next day from him if they pushed as hard.

  Collecting Master Tolan for a task wasn’t hard to manage. He never complained, about anything. Not pain or discomfort. Not the poor food they’d been sent away with or that his back was stiff from sleeping rough. It made him easier to get along with. Anders also had to make certain that the man wasn’t being abused, either magically or by how hard the ride was. Taking care of him was, after all, his main task there.