“It hasn’t been that long, my lord. The bastards can’t be everywhere after all.”
“I suppose not. I’m going to take a look around.” Otto closed his eyes and extended his sight up and away from his body. He flew across a nearby field and into the distant woods. As he continued to increase his power, his sight continued to increase its range. He could send his vision nearly a mile now in any direction. It was a useful tool, but pointless if there was nothing to see.
After a full sweep in every direction he returned to his body and sighed. There was nothing watching them except a pair of curious deer. A few days remained before they reached Castle Shenk, but it looked like he was going to have to talk to his father after all.
The rest of the day was as peaceful as the morning and near dusk the glow of a village appeared on the horizon. Hans guided the wagon toward a low, long building with a sign featuring a foaming tankard. This was the second village they’d visited. Hopefully they’d have more-useful information than the last one.
Otto hopped down. His feet had barely hit the ground when Cord said, “Look at that wagon, my lord.”
He followed the soldier’s extended finger. Twenty feet from them was a second wagon. Three arrows jutted out from the frame. Looked like someone had an encounter with the bandits. Maybe they’d finally get a lead.
Otto left the men to tend their horses and went inside. He was well enough known in the barony that anyone with problems should be eager to get his help, or at least to use him to carry a message to his father. He pushed through the door and into the warmth and light of the common room. The place was packed, every table taken. Some sort of stew filled the air with a savory aroma. Most of the patrons were gathered around one table in the center where a man with his head wrapped in a bloody bandage was sipping a tankard.
“They came out of nowhere,” the wounded man said. “Just a damn miracle I got away. Lost three men in that ambush. Getting so a man can’t travel the roads around here without risking his life. The baron has let things go to hell.”
“He’s doubled patrols,” someone said. “Soldiers can’t be everywhere. I was in Castle Town last week and there were five new bodies hanging from the walls.”
Did whoever spoke actually believe his father was doing his utmost or did he just fear someone carrying word back to him? Probably a little of both. And why was a merchant bad-mouthing the baron? Even here, someone was apt to take word to his father in hopes of a reward.
“Where were you attacked?” Otto asked.
“East of here, about four hours. Ten of them shot us full of arrows. Just a miracle the horses weren’t hit or I’d be dead.”
“They didn’t give chase?” Otto asked.
“No, I didn’t see any mounts. Who the hell are you anyway?”
“Otto Shenk. I’m helping my father deal with the bandits.”
A sudden hush came over the room. Everyone stared at him. Otto was used to that and ignored them. “It’s not a local problem. Bandits have been attacking all over Garenland. They’re working for Straken agents, trying to disrupt the kingdom and weaken us from within.”
That brought a bunch of mutters, but the merchant didn’t seem surprised. Perhaps word had spread to wherever he came from. Hopefully getting them focused on the enemy would take some pressure off his father. Not that Otto particularly cared if his father was having a hard time, but in his experience, when Father was in a bad mood, his family suffered the most and not just Stephan, which was a shame.
“My men and I will head out that way at first light. Perhaps we can run them down.” Hans and the others had entered the tavern while he was listening to the merchant’s story. “We’ll need rooms.”
“We have three available, Lord Shenk,” said the thin, nervous man Otto assumed owned the place. “You’re welcome to them, no charge of course.”
Otto nodded. They’d eat, sleep, and get an early start in the morning. There had to be tracks. They’d find the bastards and when they did, heaven help them.
Otto lay awake in the small, dark room the innkeeper had generously offered him for free, as if Otto would have had to pay for it if he didn’t want to. One of the advantages of being a nobleman was he didn’t have to pay commoners for anything unless he chose to.
His ether-enhanced sight rendered everything in shades of gray. Not that there was much to see. The furnishings consisted of a chair and an end table with a bowl and pitcher on it, and the hard, narrow bed. He wasn’t sure how much time passed since they finished dinner and retired for the night. A few hours certainly. If he had guessed wrong, the exhaustion he suffered tomorrow would be the price of that mistake. Still, he was certain there was something off about that merchant.
At least he wouldn’t have to worry about Sergeant Hans or his men teasing him. They had proven as circumspect as they were loyal and Otto appreciated that. As a reward, when they finished this mission, he was going to introduce them to the giant armor he’d found in Lord Karonin’s armory. He could think of no better soldiers to man them. Such powerful weapons had to be kept in the hands of those most loyal to the cause.
Half an hour later, his patience was rewarded. The thread of ether he’d stretched across the door broke. Otto turned his head a fraction so he could watch the door slowly opening. A figure entered, a dagger held in its grip. His washed-out magical vision offered few details. That said, there could be no question about the individual’s intention.
Otto flicked his ring and bound the intruder.
He agitated the ether to create light then rapped on the connecting wall to let Sergeant Hans know their unwelcome visitor had arrived. The sergeant stepped through the door a moment later, his sword bare in one hand and a lantern in the other.
Otto let the magical light fade and rolled out of bed. His would-be killer was clearly the merchant from downstairs. He had taken off the blood-soaked bandage revealing an unharmed face underneath. The bandits must have sent him in to get information and provide false leads to anyone hunting them.
“How did you know, my lord?” Hans asked.
“I’ve spent plenty of time around merchants, both with my father and my father-in-law. None of them act anything like this man did. They’re always selling and would never bad-mouth a noble they might hope to do business with, especially when there are people around to hear.”
Hans laid the edge of the sword on the intruder’s neck. “You want me to carve a few chunks out of him before we start asking questions?”
“Not at all.” Otto released the intruder’s head from his control. “He’s going to tell us everything we want to know with no trouble, right?”
“And why would I do that?”
“I assume you know my father’s reputation. If you don’t answer my questions, I’m going to take you to him and he’s going to ask you. And I promise you don’t want my father asking you questions. Now tell us where we can find the other bandits.”
The false merchant glared at Otto. For a moment he feared he’d misread the man, but then he said, “There are groups scattered all over the area. The boss meets us every few weeks with new orders.”
“Where can I find your boss?” Otto asked.
“He works as a tinker in Castle Town. The disguise lets him travel around and no one asks any questions.”
Otto nearly laughed out loud. The Straken spy was right under Father’s nose and he had no idea. Suddenly going to see the baron didn’t sound like such a bad idea. Not that his father would be grateful for the information. But it didn’t matter, they needed to wrap up all the remaining Straken agents in the kingdom if things were to have any hope of getting back to normal.
“I told you what you wanted to know. So let me go.”
“I promised not to take you to my father,” Otto said. “No one said anything about letting you go. Rest assured, your death will be painless.”
“What—“ Otto sent five threads’ worth of lightning directly into his heart, stopping it instantly.
> “What now, my lord?” Hans asked.
“You expressed interest in my father, well, you’re about to meet him. We leave for Castle Town in the morning.”
“What about this piece of trash?”
“We’ll let the locals string him up in the village square. It’ll send a good message to anyone else thinking of following in his footsteps. Drag him outside then get some sleep. We’ve got a long ride ahead of us.”
Chapter 11
The Northern Army spent two days attending to their wounded and burying the dead. The healers did the best they could, but many of those injured in the assault on the fort still ended up dying.
In all his years in the army, Axel had never seen so many graves in one place. He didn’t bother to count, but the dead had to number in the hundreds. It was a horrendous loss of life and still only the first of many battles. That the enemy had lost even more did little to make him feel better.
At least the Third Legion had finally caught up. With the Northern Army now at full strength, General Varchi was eager to advance and place the border forts under siege. Axel knew how he felt, but there was still the matter of an assassin lurking somewhere out in the woods. Hopefully the general would soon see reason and let him take a couple of squads out to hunt the man down.
In the meantime, precautions would have to be taken to keep the general safe. Axel was overseeing construction of one of those precautions right now. The army engineers were busy putting the final touches on a palanquin hung with chain mail curtains. The general would be safe in there from incoming arrows, the trick was going to be convincing him to ride in it at all. He feared General Varchi’s pride might overcome his good sense. At least the commander of his personal guard was on Axel’s side. There was simply no way to keep him safe at all times as they marched.
Cobb stomped up behind Axel and crossed his arms. “That’s quite a contraption you’ve made. When the king sees it, he’ll probably want one of his own.”
“As long as it works, I don’t care what it looks like.” Axel glanced over at his second. “Any word from Colten and his squad?”
“The kid tracked the assassin for a way, but after about ten miles he decided to turn back.”
If the assassin had retreated that far, he wouldn’t be taking another shot at the general any time soon. It would also make Axel’s plan to track him down nearly impossible. He trusted Colten had done everything possible to locate his prey. Sometimes things didn’t go your way. He’d talk to Colten later and try to get an idea where the assassin was headed. The nearest enemy units they knew about were fifty miles north. Though there were probably more of those ranger squads lurking around.
“What the bloody hell is this thing?” General Varchi arrived and Cobb made himself scarce, the coward.
“Your transport, sir,” Axel said. “At least until we find and kill the assassin.”
“You expect me to ride in that? Have you taken leave of your senses?”
“No, sir. The truth is, you’re the only truly irreplaceable person in this army. If anything happens to you, the men will lose heart and we’ll need to find a new supreme commander. We may even be delayed until the king himself can appoint one. It’s for the greater good.”
The captain of the general’s personal guard—Axel never actually learned the man’s name—cleared his throat and said, “I’m forced to agree, sir. You’d be too exposed on horseback and we can’t march the whole way north with our shields raised around you. For the time being I simply see no other option.”
The general poked the chain mail curtains aside with his toe and looked into the cabin. “I’m supposed to lounge in this thing like some southern satrap, being carried around by my soldiers like I’m too weak to walk? Not only will this contraption make me look like a coward, but it will make me look like a weakling as well. I can’t accept it, gentlemen. I understand the risks and accept them. You must do the same.”
With that pronouncement the general marched off. Axel and the guard captain shared a look, but what could they do? In the army, the general’s word was law. They’d just have to do their best to keep him safe and hope the assassin didn’t get lucky.
“What should we do with this thing?” one of the engineers working on the palanquin asked.
“Put it in one of the supply wagons for now,” Axel said. “If, heaven forbid, he should get wounded, we’ll still need it.”
They saluted and Axel went to look for Colten. Now more than ever they needed to find the assassin. If his best tracker couldn’t do it, Axel didn’t know who could.
He found Colten and his men sitting around a nearly burned-out fire scraping breakfast leftovers out of a kettle. As soon as the men saw him approaching, they started to rise. Axel waved them back. After the extra work they’d been doing, he wasn’t about to deny them breakfast.
“Cobb tells me you gave up the search about ten miles out. Did you see any indication about where he was headed?”
“No, sir,” Colten said. “He was moving at a good clip and showed no sign of slowing when we gave up the chase. Wherever he was headed, it wasn’t around here. We didn’t see any other signs of enemy activity. You want us to head back out?”
“No, once the camp is broken down, we’re leaving, and we’ll be on point again. Bad as I want to catch the assassin, we can’t risk the entire army to do it. Given your report, I’m confident we won’t see him again for a while. Still, keep your eyes peeled. You see anything at all out of the ordinary, let me know at once.”
Colten saluted and Axel left the men to their meal. They’d made what preparations they could but for now it looked like matters were out of his hands.
The Lady in Red sat at her desk in a small office hidden deep in the bowels of Castle Marduke. Her cherrywood desk held only a quill and ink, and two small scrolls that had arrived via pigeon an hour ago. She smoothed them out again and read them a second time.
According to her agents in Garenland, the bandits were doing an excellent job disrupting internal trade. The roads had been nearly silent for days as food sat in barns and silos waiting to be moved to the cities. So far so good as far as that went.
The latest report from the front was less encouraging. Enemy forces had wiped out their most southern position and her assassin had failed to kill General Varchi. Soon enough the Northern Army would reach the stolen border forts. She held little hope that they would last long. The numbers disadvantage was just too great.
She took a deep breath, gathered her thoughts, and stood. King Uther was waiting for her report and it was never wise to keep him waiting. Not that delivering bad news was any better, but if it had to be done, better for her if she did it quickly, much like pulling off a bandage.
Outside her office, a cold, stone hall led to the king’s private chambers. Unlike some sovereigns, Uther cared little for the council of his nobles. He sent orders and expected them to be obeyed. Woe to the underling that failed to do so. She found herself in the enviable position of having Uther’s trust, at least as much of it as he gave anyone besides his son.
She grimaced when she thought of Uther the Second. They had never gotten along and should anything happen to his father, she held no illusions about her future at court. At best, the prince would have her removed the same day he was coronated, at worst he’d have her head on a spike.
All the more reason to keep the current king alive and happy.
She reached a heavy oak door with an iron dragon mounted on it. A quick knock and the king said, “Enter.”
The door opened silently and closed the same way. Uther sat in front of a roaring fire, a tankard of wine in one hand and a smoking pipe in the other. He didn’t even turn to face her.
“Well?”
“Things are proceeding well in Garenland’s central district. Our agents have disrupted most of their internal trade at little cost to our own people. On the battlefront, things fare less well. General Varchi survived our assassination attempt and the fort was destroye
d. Our scouts estimate they should be marching by now.”
Uther grunted. “The border forts won’t last long.”
“No, Your Majesty. Fifteen thousand men will overrun our positions in a few days.”
“What are our total forces in Garenland right now?”
“After the debacle at the fort I’d estimate eight thousand infantry and five hundred rangers.”
Uther slammed his fist on the chair arm. “That’s not enough! I hope whoever murdered the old king burns in hell. The weak fool never would have struck against us like this. I planned on having more time to move resources into place. Where can we muster our forces for a real battle?”
“Probably the Saber Plains. If our invasion force pulls back and we send other legions to join them, we could have twenty-five thousand ready for battle in six weeks. The rough terrain will slow the enemy’s advance. I believe it’s our best chance.”
“The Saber Plains are in Straken.” Uther’s voice was low and deadly. “You’re suggesting we cede all the ground we’ve taken and then some. All my plans, all our efforts, will have been for nothing.”
She took a breath to steady herself. She’d seen Uther in a mood like this before. One wrong move and she wouldn’t have to worry about the prince killing her.
“That’s correct, Majesty. However, if we try to fight the Garenlanders with what we have now, the invasion force will be wiped out and the main army will have to fight them evenhanded rather than with superior numbers. Once the enemy army has been destroyed, retaking the lost ground will not be difficult.”
There was a moment of silence then Uther slowly stood and turned to face her. With the light of the fire behind him, he was little more than a dark silhouette. Blue eyes as hard and cold as ice chips bored into her.
Her heart skipped a beat, but she forced herself to meet his gaze. Her advice was correct. She knew it and so did he. The only question was whether or not he’d accept it. The king stepped around his chair, stood directly in front of her, and put his massive hands on her shoulders.
The Great Northern War (The Portal Wars Saga Book 2) Page 6