Chapter 11
Aiden tightened his grip on his javelin as he stared at the destruction. The Champions took their places by their Lairds as the horns rang out. Ranks closed, and one single horn blew a high, piercing note. Horses were spurred forward, gathering speed and tearing toward the army waiting outside the town. Aiden felt the rush, and his blood rose as he gave voice to his savage war cry.
Corin heard it even on the walls. The enemy hesitated in their attack and then turned to do battle with the new adversary on the open plains. Corin saw the way open up before him, and he sprang down the steps calling for a horse. Tired though they were, his men followed without hesitation. The gates were opened and the abandoned ram was pushed from the way. Trey and his deugain joined with Corin and Darrin as they rode from the castle. Men grasped the tattered standards of the wolf and the hawk, and the flags bravely flew as they rode.
Samir was still in shock at the sudden appearance of the Clans, but the panicked shouts of his captain brought him back to the present, and he ordered a counterattack. His cavalry was preparing to come behind the Braetons when the Aredorians slammed into them with white hot fury.
Laird Finley led his Clan against the Durnian crossbowmen who were wreaking untold damage against the horsemen. Clan Canich joined the Aredorians, and Corin and Aiden met again on the field of battle. Clan Strowen wove among the catapults, driving Durnians before them. Clan Gunlon and Clan Dyson circled the castle, taking on the enemy that still surrounded it.
As the Northern force became spread out, Samir drew together his army that remained on the plain, still several thousand strong. The Braetons and Aredorians drew their line in front of the city. Darrin rode to meet a new force from the castle led by Lord Maldwyn, and they took the right flank. But Calorins that had hidden in the town drove the force in two. Clan Gunlon and Clan Dyson came from either side to join their allies.
Clan Canich still remained with Corin and his men. The battle light still shone in the Braetons’ eyes, but Corin saw his men begin to waver at the sight of the force that awaited them. But he had forgotten his wounds and his exhaustion.
“Don’t give up!” he shouted. “Don’t you give up on me! We have fought for too long to stop now. Today we end this! Today we win our freedom once and for all! They did not beat us before, and they will not now! Fight with me again and let us prove that we will keep what is ours!”
A chill rippled across Aiden’s skin as he listened. It was how he had always imagined the heroes of old. The odds never seemed impossible with Corin. He spurred Narak up beside Corin and saluted him with his sword.
“Lead the way then,” he said. He had seen the same light in Ranulf’s eyes. The Clan would follow.
Trey lifted his sword, and his men raised their war cry. The Hawk Flight loosed the wolf cry as Corin turned.
Across the field, Darrin saw Corin and heard the cry.
“We follow you, my Laird,” Laird Colwyn said to Darrin.
“Prepare the charge,” Darrin ordered.
Horns sounded again and, from both sides of the field, the Northerners charged.
Aiden stayed at Corin’s side as they plunged into battle but in the melee he was driven away. Narak slipped on the bloody ground, and Aiden was thrown. He rolled quickly to his feet and moved into the ground fighting. Then he saw a sight that nearly stopped his heart—an all too familiar figure was fighting a few yards away. It was Rona. She was dressed in men’s clothing, her face painted with woad. He ran to her, killing a Calorin that was approaching her from behind.
“Rona!” he shouted.
She didn’t turn as she fought a Durnian. “Fancy meeting you here!”
He set his back against hers as more enemies came at them.
“I thought I told you tae stay behind!” he said.
“You asked, and last I checked I can do whatever I want!” Rona parried a sword blow.
“Rona!” He was exasperated.
“Shut up! We can argue later!” she replied.
They soon had no extra breath for talking as their foe pressed heavy around them. They gained a welcome respite when a small mounted force from Clan Strowen swirled around them and drove away the Calorins. But just as Aiden was about to turn, Rona stumbled against him with a strangled cry.
Time seemed to freeze as he looked to see a sword protruding from her stomach and the triumphant face of a Calorin. He heard his cry as he swung his sword and the Calorin disappeared. He looked down and saw Rona half-kneeling at his feet. She had pulled the sword out and pressed her hand against the wound. He picked her up and carried her to the shelter of a nearby supply wagon.
She bit her lip as he set her down. “Did you want tae argue now?”
“Shh!” he told her, using her plaid to try and stop the blood.
“Aiden, how bad?” she asked shakily. He didn’t meet her gaze as he refolded the soaked cloth. She reached up and turned his face toward her. “Aiden?”
“You’ll be fine.” His voice caught.
“You’re a terrible liar. Stay with me?” Her voice shook.
“I would never leave you,” he said.
She closed her eyes as he held her close in his arms. Tears beaded her lashes as she looked up at him again.
“Aiden, remember that this was my decision. I wanted tae come.”
“Why?” He choked as his throat tightened.
“Because I love you, and I want tae stay by your side through everything. And you do need someone tae look after you.” She tapped his chest.
“You know how much you irritate me sometimes?” he asked.
She smiled. “I wish I could tell you tae move on after I…die, but I’m feeling very selfish right now.”
Aiden smiled through his tears. “As if I could ever forget you. You are the first and only person I will ever love.” He leaned down and kissed her gently.
She smiled. “I’ll be waiting for you,” she whispered and kissed him again. “Good-bye.”
“I love you so much,” he told her, and she was smiling as her eyes closed for the last time.
Time froze as he held her, one thought pounding through his mind. How can she be gone?
Gradually the noise of battle found him again. He saw a Braeton warrior struck down and a young Aredorian fighting for his life. He looked back down at Rona and laid her gently on the ground. He placed her sword by her and spread his plaid over her. He stood, took up his swords, and reentered the battle.
Andras lay on the ground, seeing his death blow falling when the sword was tossed away and a savage-looking Braeton warrior took on his opponent.
Aiden felt the familiar anger of the berserker tug at him, and in his grief, he did not fight it. A wordless cry ripped from his throat as he charged heedlessly into battle.
* * *
Long hours later, the battle was ended. Corin and Darrin stood together on the blood-soaked field. They were victorious. Some Durnians and Calorins had surrendered, but the rest that survived had fled. The Northerners gave no chase; the terrible cost of their victory lay on the ground around them.
A grey horse and its rider picked their way toward the brothers. Kara had taken the wolf standard as its bearer fell and had carried it through the battle. She dismounted and handed it to Darrin.
“This belongs tae you, sire,” she said, then turned to Corin and saluted. “Reporting for duty, Captain.”
He pulled her into a hug. “You had me worried for a little while.”
“I haven’t let you down yet,” she replied, pure relief showing in her stance now that the battle was finally over.
“No, you haven’t.” Corin smiled. “I’m glad you’re back safely.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said.
Corin was about to speak again when he saw Ian running toward them. A cold hand clutched Corin’s heart as Ian struggled to speak.
“Captain…you have to come…” he stammered.
“Who?” Corin asked, deathly calm.
“Lieuten
ant Martin,” Ian said.
Corin gripped his shoulder. “Where?”
Ian led him across the field at a run, and Corin saw.
Martin was sitting against Trey, and Corin could see the broken haft of a spear protruding from his back. Liam also knelt beside Martin, the look on his face telling the bitter truth; Martin was dying. Martin looked up as Corin knelt in front of him.
“You came,” Martin said raggedly. “And don’t say anything, Cor. You know as well as I do.”
“Martin, you can’t…What will I do?” Corin felt only terrible panic.
“You’ve got these two.” Martin indicated Liam and Trey. He began coughing. “Trey?” he gasped.
“I’m here, Martin.” Trey steadied him.
Martin took a knife from his belt. “I want Gwilym to have this. It’s been passed down my family from father to son for generations. I need you three to take care of him. Tell him I’m sorry I had to leave. I know I promised.”
“We will,” Trey assured him as he took the knife.
“Corin, look after Mera for me. I know how much you care about each other,” Martin continued. “Bury me in the forest with the others. And I want Ian to take my place. He’s a good lad.”
“Any more demands?” Corin asked.
“You won’t let me die in peace, will you?” Martin smiled.
“What kind of a friend would I be?” Corin smiled sadly.
“Look after these two idiots for me, Lio,” Martin said to Liam, who clasped his hand wordlessly. “Trey.” Martin couldn’t turn his head to look back. “Take care of yourself. You know you’re the reason I made it to today. Just promise me.”
“I will.” Trey’s voice trembled.
He picked up Martin’s sword and laid it across his lap. Martin’s hand fumbled as he reached for his blade. Corin caught Martin’s hand and wrapped it securely around the hilt. Martin smiled again.
“I don’t want to be seeing any of you anytime soon,” he said. Then he reached behind himself, grasped the spear, and wrenched it from his body. Trey held him as he stiffened in pain. Then he relaxed against Trey and was gone.
Corin bowed his head, and his shoulders shook with grief. Tears tracked clean paths down Trey’s cheeks as he held Martin’s body, and Liam closed his eyes against the numb anguish. Slowly, the Hawk Flight took the body, laid it on a stretcher, and bore it back to Kingscastle.
“Go with him,” Corin said hoarsely to Liam and Trey who wordlessly obeyed. Corin joined Darrin to order the clearing of the field.
* * *
Ranulf and Tam walked through the carnage looking for their brother. Tam pointed to Aiden standing some distance away, his back to them. He held a scimitar in one hand while the other hung limp at his side.
“Tam, wait!” Ranulf said as Tam ran toward their brother. He had seen the bodies surrounding him.
Ranulf shoved Tam away as Aiden turned and swung the sword. Ranulf managed to stop it and stared into his brother’s burning eyes.
“Aiden!” he shouted, and again as Aiden blinked and shook his head as if to clear it. Ranulf caught him as he dropped the sword and almost collapsed.
“Tam, I’m sorry!” Aiden gasped as pain, so long ignored, came rushing back.
They helped him walk toward the castle. Ranulf gripped his arm tighter in concern as Aiden stumbled to a halt. He followed Aiden’s silent stare to a pile of plaid. Tam left them at Ranulf’s nod and walked over to it. Aiden’s brooch winked in the sunlight as he folded the cloak back. Ranulf gasped in shock when he saw Rona. Aiden was looking away, and Ranulf felt him shivering. He wrapped his cloak around Aiden.
“I’m sorry, Danny,” he whispered, but Aiden made no reply.
A healer met them at the doors of Kingscastle and quickly led them to a room filled with beds. She bandaged Aiden’s many wounds and gave him a draft for the fever that was overtaking him. He closed his eyes and knew no more.
* * *
Corin trudged wearily toward the castle leading Zephyr. He had found the horse wandering the field as Darrin sent him back to rest. A familiar whinny sounded behind them, and Zephyr raised his head as Narak trotted up, rider-less.
Corin caught the reins. Where is Aiden? he thought. He hadn’t seen him after the last charge. Has something happened to him too? He couldn’t bear the thought.
Corin led both horses through the town. He would find some of the Clan and see if they knew anything of their Champion. But his plans were dashed as soon as he walked into the castle.
“Sir, Lord Trey wanted to see you,” a warrior said and led Corin down a corridor.
Trey sat on a bench in the hall, and Gwilym was with him. The boy was clinging tightly to Trey in shock. Corin sat down with them.
“What happened?” Corin asked quietly.
“He saw…I guess he saw me and followed us. Then he saw Martin and just started screaming. I could hardly get him to calm down,” Trey murmured.
Corin leaned forward, putting his head in his hands. He hadn’t known how they were going to break the news to Gwilym or…
“Where’s Mera?”
“Inside.” Trey nodded down the hall. “Go on, I’ll take care of him.”
Corin rose and went to the room further down the hall. It was bare of any ornament, being the place where the dead were laid until their burial. The dead of the Hawk Flight lay beside each other, and Mera stood by one.
He touched her gently on the arm and led her from the room. Fresh tears escaped her eyes, and she huddled against him as he wrapped comforting arms around her.
“Trey said you both were with him when he died,” she said.
“Yes.” Corin blinked against the burning in his eyes.
“Did he say anything?”
“Just to teach Gwilym how to flirt with all the girls,” he said after a long moment.
Mera had to smile. “No, he didn’t. You wouldn’t know how to do that anyway.” She wiped tears away.
“He just wanted someone to look after Gwilym and you,” Corin said.
“Gwilym!” Mera exclaimed.
“Trey is with him right now. Don’t worry,” Corin told her.
“Thank you,” she said. He tensed involuntarily as she laid her hand on his arm. “Corin!” she cried, looking him over. “How are you even standing right now? Come with me!”
The hall was filled with wounded from the battle, but there was some space in the infirmary. He pulled off the mail coat with difficulty and sat down on the bed as she bustled around him.
“Take care of me indeed! He knew very well it’s going to be the other way around,” she muttered to herself, and he smiled, gratefully complying with her next order to rest, and slept until Ian came to wake him several hours later.
He hurried to change into new clothes, finding to his relief that the pain from his burned arm had settled down to a dull throb. He joined Darrin and the Braeton lords for a council. Some had rested, but the war paint still remained as it would until their enemies were finally defeated. Plans were made to send out patrols the next morning to search for survivors, and places were found for the Clans to stay.
“Your turn to sleep, Darrin,” Corin said when the meeting ended. “I’ll organize a wall guard.”
“We need to send a messenger to the coast,” Darrin said.
“Go on. I’ll find someone,” Corin assured him.
Darrin stumbled off, and Corin found Gerralt to help him for the next few hours. They compiled casualty lists and took stock of the food supplies that had survived the fires.
Every chance he got, Corin looked around for Aiden. He knew some of Clan Canich was scouting, and he hoped Aiden was with them. But Tam had led the patrol and he reported to Corin.
“Where’s Aiden?” Corin asked after Tam finished.
“He was hurt, but he will recover in time,” Tam said.
Corin knew Tam wasn’t telling him everything but more reports were coming in and Tam disappeared.
* * *
Corin
met Darrin the next morning as Corin prepared to lead the first patrol out.
“A runner from Lynwood came in last night,” Corin told him. “They held out long enough for some of Clan Dyson to come.”
“Where are you headed?” Darrin asked.
“We’ll go south and then sweep up toward the forest. The boys at the Keep are already out scouting the woods. We can send the next patrol north and then into the forest.”
“Sounds good,” Darrin said. “I’ll send them out in about an hour.”
Corin saluted and led his patrol made of a mixed array of the Clans and Aredorians from the castle. They encountered a few small bands of Calorins and Durnians who chose to fight instead of flee. They buried the bodies and returned to Kingscastle by late afternoon. The freshly dug burial mounds on the edge of the training grounds reminded Corin of his own bitter duty.
“I want to take the Hawk Flight to Dunham Forest tomorrow. The dead need to rest,” Corin said to Darrin.
His brother nodded somberly. The warband had its own ceremony to perform for their fallen.
Mera found him as he left. “Trey has gone out on patrol, and Gwilym won’t come out of Martin’s room. Liam is still busy with the wounded. He’ll hardly rest himself.”
“I’ll go,” Corin replied to the unspoken question. He went to the familiar door and tried the handle. It was locked so he rapped gently on the door.
“Go away!” a muffled voice cried.
“Gwily, it’s Uncle Cor. Can I come in?”
There was a pause, then a bolt slid back, and he could hear Gwilym running back to the bed. He curled up on the bed, clutching Martin’s knife in its sheath. Corin sat beside him. Gwilym sniffled in the silence.
“It’s not fair! He promised he would stay!” he said miserably.
“I know.” Corin rested a hand on Gwilym’s shoulder. “But sometimes those promises are hard to keep.”
Gwilym swiped tears away. “Why’d he have to go?”
Corin searched for an answer. “Do you remember your parents?”
The Wildcat of Braeton Page 37