Marianna repeated the words and felt a stronger surge of heat and energy course their arms and out through her palms and fingers. A light blue somewhat transparent barrier appeared in front of her. The energy of the barrier shot small gusts of air toward her face and hair. “Is it there?” she asked loudly.
Viktor was in awe. She learned it so quickly and the wind in her hair made her look more beautiful than he realized. “Yes,” he said, “it’s there. Erwin, she can open her eyes, right?”
“Marianna, keep thinking of the person or thing that you’re protecting. As long as your mind is solely focused on that you can open your eyes,” Erwin revealed.
Marianna saw Viktor’s face in her mind. She wouldn’t lose focus if she were open her eyes and look at him. She slowly opened them and saw Viktor smiling at her.
“Oh, my,” Erwin said.
“What? What is it?” Josiah asked.
“Her barrier increased in size once she opened ‘er eyes,” Kelond said. “Even I can tell that.”
It was true. Her tier one barrier widened and lengthened vertically after she opened her eyes and saw Viktor. Its size nearly doubled in seconds.
Her focus never broke from Viktor’s face and her barrier never disappeared. It was obvious to everyone at that moment who she was thinking of and what an asset she would be on the battlefield. Viktor wasn’t thinking that far ahead, though. He just wanted to get her back to Asbury to make love until the next morning.
∞
Viktor and the others were on their way back to Fort Asbury when a scout on horseback came upon them. He was a young boy, one of the Runaways. Viktor could tell that he was frightened by the white in his eyes and the pace of his breathing. “What is it?”
“Viktor,” the boy said, “a band of raiders are advancing toward Asbury.”
“How do you know they’re raiders?” Josiah asked.
“They’re not in soldier’s uniform. They look like they’re from the forest,” the boy replied.
“Were they small in stature?” Kelond asked.
“The scout didn’t say. He only said that there’s probably a few hundred and they’re wearing leather for armor.”
“Could be the Elk Mountain Clan,” Kelond said. “Dwarves that are quite skilled with a bow and arrow.”
“Leather armor? And they think they can take Asbury?” Josiah scoffed, disregarding Kelond’s warning.
“We did,” Viktor said, looking at Josiah.
“It’s not safe this far from the fort. I was sent to bring you back,” the boy said.
“Sent by the druid, no doubt,” chuckled Kelond.
“Well,” Viktor said, “I’m not going to prevent you from fulfilling your duty. Let’s go.”
∞
Viktor stood next to Kelond and Josiah atop the rear wall of Fort Asbury. They could see lines of men marching toward them. Kelond squinted, hoping to make out whether they were dwarves or not.
“Highness,” Kelond said, “let me talk to ‘em if they be dwarves. I can perhaps stop a massacre today.”
“Are those your people, dwarf?” Gideonis asked in his booming voice, coming up behind them on the wall.
“Nice of ya to join us,” Kelond replied.
“What’s the plan if they’re aggressive? Fight from the walls or meet them in the field?” Josiah asked.
“I see an opportunity to test our defenses by fighting from behind the walls,” Viktor replied. “We’ll most likely have to fight that way in the coming weeks anyway.”
“I estimate there’s only five hundred men. They would be no match for us in the open field,” Josiah said.
“You’re right, but I want to keep as many alive as possible for the battle that has yet to come,” Viktor said.
“He’s right,” Gideonis interjected. “We’ll need every man, druid, and dwarf to defeat Alexander’s divisions when they arrive.”
“They’ve stopped marching,” Kelond said. “If they send three riders with a red flag I’ll know it’s the Elk Mountain Clan.”
Viktor could make out fifty or so men atop elks. He had only seen men ride atop horses. He read books about men and women taming various beasts to use as mounts, but he couldn’t remember reading about elks being tamed.
Three riders started moving toward the open field in front of the rear gate of Fort Asbury. One of the riders held a red flag high.
“Aye,” Kelond said, “I was right. Let me talk to ‘em. I’ll get this sorted out fer us.”
Kelond turned to walk down the steps toward the back gate. “You won’t go alone,” Viktor said. “Take Josiah and Gideonis.”
“And me,” Erwin said, appearing at the bottom of the steps.
“I don’t think that will be wise,” Viktor said.
“You can think what you want, but I’m going. They may need my magic,” Erwin replied, tying a leather strap on his chestguard.
Kelond looked at Viktor and the others and shrugged. “I think it’ll be fine, highness.”
Viktor looked at the others and sighed.
Thirteen
∞
The wooden horse is nearly on top of Fort Asbury on the map. Alexander’s eyes are tired and his face is somewhat sunken. He places a finger on the top of the horse and rocks it back and forth slowly. He can hear the cold wind whoosh by the opening of his tent and could see it beat against the southern side. The camp was quiet outside and the sun had nearly set. A soldier appears at the opening of his tent with a woman dressed in a thin leather robe.
“Here you are, milord,” the soldier said, pushing the woman into the tent.
“Did you not think to put a heavier coat on her, soldier?”
“Apologies, milord,” the soldier replied, turning to leave.
The woman, shivering and terrified, looked around the king’s tent. She decided to not move as she had heard stories of the king’s ruthlessness towards prostitutes who disobeyed him. Her thick black hair rested on her exposed shoulders. She had dark skin and blue eyes, a combination Alexander always preferred in the women sent to him.
“What is your name?” he asked.
“Grenny, milord,” she replied, voice shaking.
“That means your family is from Velencia, then? Or whoever named you is a Velencian?” Alexander asked, picking up a blanket made of bear fur.
“Yes, milord. I am from Velencia.”
Alexander wrapped the blanket around her and escorted her across the room toward the bed. “Velencian women are always the most beautiful. It must be because of all of the sun you get year-round.”
She looked around the room to spot a smaller weapon than a sword. She knew he’d overpower her if she were to swing a heavy sword at him. She searched for a dagger while he moved her toward the edge of his large makeshift bed but couldn’t spot one. She did see a short sword lying against the side of the tent wall a few feet from the bed, though.
“What do you know about me?” he asked. “What sorts of things have you heard?”
“Milord, I have not been on the island long. I know nothing of you,” she replied.
“That’s good to hear,” he said, sliding the blanket off her shoulders. “Are you warmed up now?” He sat on the bed in front of her and began untying her robe from the front.
“Yes, milord. I’m quite warm now. Thank you.”
“Did they tell you why you’re here?”
“I understand the situation, milord.”
“And what do you understand?”
“That you’ll have your way with me.”
“That’s what I like about Velencian girls. Beauty and brains.” He finished untying her robe and she stood naked in front of him. He could see bumps on her legs and arms, indicating how cold it was in the tent. He ran his cold fingers up the side of her arm and felt the bumps and smiled. “You said you were quite warm.”
“More nervous than cold, milord.”
“Are you an amateur in these things, then?”
She looked at his eyes and f
elt fear. They were dark and soulless, and she saw herself being beaten death before sunrise. She could either take her chance now or wait until then. She leapt toward the short sword and grabbed the handle as she hit the ground. She turned to swing it, but Alexander was already standing over her with a dagger in his hand.
∞
“We’re four days out from Fort Asbury, milord,” Dover said.
Alexander and his generals rode ahead of the troops. It was early in the morning and the frigid air was biting to anyone not wearing a helmet. “What was the last count?” Alexander replied.
Dover looked over at the other generals, afraid to reveal the soldier count to the king. “Milord, we will still outnumber their army two-to-one.”
“I’m not a mathematician, but that would suggest we’re down to four thousand men,” Alexander said gruffly. “Are you saying we only have four thousand men left?”
“This march has been rather taxing, milord,” Dover said softly. “We haven’t replenished supplies in days and we’re at least a week from any township. We’ve no other recourse than to continue marching and see what comes of it.”
“What comes of it? Are you hinting at something, Lord Dover?” Alexander challenged, stopping his horse.
“Not hinting, milord,” he replied, “just speculating. They have an army that is rested and protected behind stone walls. A siege will take days, followed by close-quarters combat once we enter the fort. Our men are starved and exhausted which doesn’t bode well for battle.”
Alexander looked at the other generals. “Do you agree with Dover’s assessment? That we’ve made a mistake coming this far?”
“The mistake wasn’t in the decision to march, milord,” Benvero replied.
“Then where was it?” Alexander barked.
A sergeant continued to march the men past Alexander and the generals. The men kept their heads down as they passed. They moved slowly in the frozen mud. Alexander noticed many of the men dragging their feet and was filled with rage.
“If we had to do it all over again we should’ve waited for the initial ice storm to pass,” Benvero said. “I confess that I at first thought it a good idea to move out, but as the storm continued for weeks, I began to regret the decision.”
Alexander spotted Haffar, the mouthy soldier he overheard a few nights ago, trudging along in the mud. He was the only soldier who tilted his face up to look at Alexander and the generals.
“We march on, then?” Dover asked, breaking Alexander’s focus.
“None of you are hopeful that we’ll win this battle? Are you suggesting that we’re simply marching to our deaths?” Alexander asked them.
“That is what I am suggesting,” Dover sighed.
Alexander looked at the other generals who kept their gazes downward. “And you, Benvero?”
“Milord, we’ve crossed a point of no return weeks ago. We don’t have enough supplies to make it back to King’s Square, let alone a township on the way. The cowardly and right thing is that you take your leave and return to the palace to rule what remains of your kingdom,” Benvero said.
“The cowardly thing is the right thing?” Alexander asked with a smile, looking at Haffar as he got closer. “Soldier Haffar, please join us.”
Haffar stepped aside from the row of soldiers he was in to stand next to Alexander’s horse. “Yes, milord?”
Alexander smiled at him and then looked at Dover. “Lord Dover, were you aware that we have a spy in our midst? Haffar here was sent by the boy to collect information on our whereabouts and size to send back to Asbury.”
Haffar’s eyes widened and he was filled with terror. He opened his mouth to speak but the sword cut through his jugular before any words could come out. He reached up to close the hole and couldn’t. He fell to the frozen ground in a small pool of his own steaming blood. A few soldiers who were slowly marching by sped up their pace to be out of sight of the king.
Alexander used the bottom of his tabard to wipe the blood from his sword. “No, Benvero,” he said with a smug grin, “the right thing is to destroy all enemies of the throne in rain, snow, during a hurricane, or in sunshine. We march on and finish this so that every generation hereafter knows the rightful king sits on the throne.”
Fourteen
∞
“What’s all the ruckus outside?” Yaspar asked Heldar.
There were only a few men left in the medical tent. Most had either succumbed to their injuries or improved so much that they were now back at their post.
The two of them had become quite close these past few days as both were still rather bedridden. Yaspar was very careful not to share too much of his experience with the Shroud as he learned that a relative of Heldar’s had been assassinated some years ago by a member.
“Sounds like they’re preparing for battle. How I want to be out there with them,” Heldar exclaimed.
“You really believe in this rebellion, don’t you?” Yaspar asked.
“I believe in Viktor and Josiah. I will follow them to the edge of the island and back.”
“But not further? What if they wish to take more than Tresladore? Would you brave the North Sea and march on Romuloso if they asked?”
“Yes, of course,” Heldar smiled. “I will be a loyal subject of the one true king.”
“And how do you know he’s the true king? Rebellions like this spring up all the time.”
“It’s in his blood.”
“I could argue it’s in Alexander’s blood as well. His father was king before his brother after all.”
Gates entered the tent with a worried look on his face. He moved through the tent quickly toward the medicine cabinet.
“Gates,” Helder started, “what’s going on?”
“Nothing to worry you about,” Gates replied, looking through various ointments.
“Are we under attack?” Yaspar asked.
“Perhaps, we’ll know more as the day goes on,” Gates said, rushing to the other side of the tent and out through the opening.
Yaspar looked around the room and noticed the other three men were asleep. Looked at Helder and then at the opening of the tent. “We can both walk. We should go see what’s going on.” He pulled back the blanket from his legs and wrestled out of bed.
“Do you think that’s wise?” Helder asked.
“I don’t know if it’s wise, but I’d rather know what’s going on than be surprised when our enemies come to murder us in this tent,” Yaspar said.
“You said our enemies,” Heldar said with a smile, joining him in the middle of the tent.
“Don’t get confused. I’m on no one’s side other than my own,” Yaspar said.
They quickly dressed themselves in leather garments that were in the corner of the room and exited the tent.
∞
Yaspar and Heldar were nearly knocked over by soldiers running to and fro. They noticed men suiting up in chainmail or iron, bowmen placing more arrows in their quivers, horses neighing anxiously as their riders jumped atop, Kelond directing his dwarves to line up near a wall, Gideonis shouting orders at his druids, Josiah riding in front of a regiment of riders. They were preparing for battle no doubt.
“A lot of activity,” Yaspar remarked. “Perhaps the king is upon us.”
“No,” a soldier jogging by said, “it’s dwarven raiders.”
“More dwarves on Tresladore?” Heldar thought aloud. “Our little island is becoming more diverse by the day.”
“It doesn’t make sense to raid a stone fort in the middle of winter,” Yaspar replied. “That sounds like desperation to me.”
“The king is on his way to do that very thing,” Heldar said.
“Exactly,” Yaspar agreed.
Fifteen
∞
“Think it’s a trick?” Josiah asked as they approached the dwarves in the middle of the field.
“I will tear them to shreds in front of their men if they cross us,” Gideonis gruffed.
Josiah, Erwin, Kelo
nd, and Gideonis rode out to meet the three dwarves. Each of them was commanded to wear plate armor just in case the dwarves meant them harm. Erwin refused at first but was outmatched by Marianna’s aggressive demand that he suit up. He thought he’d look ridiculous in that heavy armor, which he did.
“What do you know of this clan, Kelond?” Erwin asked.
“The Elk Mountain Clan keep to themselves mostly. That’s why it’s surprising to see them this far down from the mountain,” Kelond replied.
“That’s far enough,” one of the three dwarves shouted. “We can speak from here.”
Josiah and the others stopped riding toward the dwarves. The two groups were twenty yards apart, so each would have to speak in a raised voice.
“Kelond,” one of the dwarves started, “I see that ya’ve chosen humans over ya own.”
Kelond was taken aback that one of the dwarves knew his name. His clan and the Elk Mountain Clan never interacted with one another. “Do I know ya, friend?”
“Not yet,” the dwarf said, taking his iron helmet off. His face had been overtaken by wrinkles and his red beard. One of his eyes was missing and half of his right ear was gone. The hair he had left on his head was thin and shiny and Kelond could tell his nose had been broken a few times. “I knew ya uncle and he’d be ashamed by what ya’ve become.”
“I know ya,” Kelond replied. “Argyle the Red. That’s what they used to call ya.”
“They still call me that.”
“They still call ya traitor, too,” Kelond added. “What is it that ya want with us?”
“It’s a terrible cold season, don’t ya say?” Argyle asked. “I assume the humans and ya are keepin’ warm behind those walls. Me and my men want to be warm, too.”
“That simple, huh?” Kelond replied.
“Aye, that simple,” Argyle said. “Ya have two options today. One, the lot of ya pack up and leave the fort for me and my men. Two, the lot of ya die today in battle.”
Josiah scoffed loudly enough for Argyle and the other two dwarves to hear.
“Do ya have something to add, human?” the dwarf to Argyle’s right asked loudly.
The Warrior Prince (The Tragedy of King Viktor Book 2) Page 6