by A. C. Cobble
“I do,” agreed Ben. “I appreciate the offer, Brandon, but I’m not going home. Not yet.”
“What are you doing here, Ben?” asked Serrot.
Ben turned to his friend. “Just passing through. We thought we’d stop in and get whatever news is available.”
Serrot glanced at Ben’s companions, frowning as if he vaguely recognized them.
Ben spoke before he could comment. “We’re going to Issen.”
“Issen!” exclaimed Brandon. “Ben, no! There’s to be a war there. The Alliance is marching to meet the Coalition. I don’t right understand what the fight is about, but it’s clear as spring water there is going to be a fight. Representatives from the Alliance have been all over Farview trying to gain support. Coin, recruits, food, whatever they can get. We’ve had to run more than one of them out of town. Believe me, Ben, you don’t want any part of this. There is no glory in war, only death. We’ve seen plenty of that, and I suspect you have, too.”
“I’m not going to fight in the war,” assured Ben.
“Why would you go anywhere near that place, then?” questioned Brandon.
Ben sipped his ale, unsure how he could explain their intentions or whether he should even try.
“Is that the same highborn lady you left Farview with?” asked Serrot, looking back at Ben’s companions.
“It is,” confirmed Ben.
“And the rogue,” said Serrot, nodding to himself. “It was those two, a blademaster, a mage, and another lady, wasn’t it?”
“Something like that,” agreed Ben.
“What have they gotten you into, Ben?” pressed Brandon. “Whatever it is, you’ve got a place at home, and we’ve got a need of you.”
“Other people need me to,” said Ben. He glanced between his brother and his friend. Finally, he decided to tell them. “We’re going to try and stop the war if we can.”
Both men blinked back at him, not comprehending.
“I want to tell you something, but it has to be secret.”
“We won’t tell anyone,” agreed Brandon.
Ben gave Blevin and the other Farview men an apologetic look. “Very secret.”
“Boys,” asked Brandon, “give us a moment, will you?”
Grumbling, the men gathered their drinks and relocated to another table across the room.
“They’ll be a little grouchy tonight, but I’ll buy them a few rounds to sort them out,” said Brandon. “Easiest way to keep the troops happy, I’ve found. Get a little ale in them, have them sing a song and twirl a strange girl around the dance floor, and they feel like they’re the king of the world.”
“The troops?” asked Ben.
Serrot broke in, “Brandon’s organized the men in Farview into a militia, and a lot of them from the other towns, too. We had to – to face the demons.”
Ben nodded to Brandon. “A leader, huh? I always knew you had it in you.”
“You do, too,” said Brandon. “You’d do the same thing if you were in the same situation. Now, Ben, what is so secret you can’t even tell Blevin? Why are you going to Issen?”
“The girl, the highborn one,” said Ben, speaking slowly, struggling to figure out what to say to his friends. “She’s a lady of Issen, an important one. If I can get her there before the armies arrive, then maybe we can stop this.”
“A highborn lady of Issen,” said Serrot, looking back at Amelie with appreciation.
“Highborn is one thing, Ben,” advised Brandon, “but these generals are serious men. They’re marching with hundreds of thousands under their banners. They’re not going to turn back just because one lady says so. You don’t know what kind of people these are. They’re not like us.”
“I do know what kind of people they are,” replied Ben.
“You do?” asked Brandon, sitting back, a dubious expression on his face.
“I’ve met them both,” said Ben quietly. “King Saala is the blademaster I left Farview with. I crossed swords with Lord Jason in Irrefort, and he’s married to Lady Amelie’s mother.”
“Lady Amelie,” said Serrot, working the name on his tongue, his eyes still locked on her. “Lady Amelie… I know that name.”
“I don’t,” muttered Brandon. “You’re saying Lord Jason married that girl’s mother?”
“Lady Amelie is the daughter of Lord Gregor and Lady Selene,” said Serrot, lost in thought. “They ruled Issen, didn’t they? Wait. Ben…”
Brandon frowned at Serrot, not understanding. Even with it spelled out, he couldn’t grasp what Serrot had realized. It was too far away from his life to make any sense.
“The soldiers said something about a stripped title, the rightful heir… It’s her, isn’t it, the heir to Issen?” asked Serrot, his voice barely above a whisper. “The soldiers said she was missing.”
“Now you know why I can’t go home,” said Ben. “By Issen law, she’s the Lady of Issen. She and I both have met King Saala and Lord Jason face to face. If we get her into the city, and she’s able to take command, there’s a chance we can stop this before thousands die, before lives are wasted and for what? A bit of land, a chance to wear a crown? It’s not going to be easy, but we have to try.”
“You’ll need more than the rogue,” said Brandon, now studying Ben’s friends.
“I have men,” said Ben. He rubbed a hand across his face and drank his ale. “I’ve got a lot of men. Talented men and women. The type of people who could help us pull this off.”
“You’ve got one more,” asserted Serrot. “Me.”
“What?” exclaimed Brandon.
“I’m going with you, Ben,” declared the woodsman.
Ben grinned at him. “Serrot, it’s going to be dangerous. Really dangerous. You’ve got Farview, the brewery…”
“I’m going,” insisted Serrot. “We’ve beat back the demons, we think, and Brandon’s got that in hand. The brewery, well, I’ll happily trade that for a chance at adventure. Blevin or one of the others can take over for me. Ben, when you left, I thought every night about what you were doing. I wished I had left with you, and cursed myself that I’d missed out. Now, you’re traveling with the Lady of Issen, you tell me you personally know a king, and you crossed blades with the leader of the Coalition? There’s no way I’m staying in this tavern while you go off again. Not this time.”
Ben shook his head. “It’s not all glory out there, Serrot. I’ve been through some pretty awful times. I’ve been battered to the point I didn’t think I’d live – more than once. I’ve had friends die. I’ve seen things that will give me nightmares for the rest of my life.”
“I’m going.”
Ben sat a moment, thinking before responding. Finally, he smiled. “If I can’t talk you out of it, then you’re welcome to come. I’ll warn you, though, I’m not overstating the danger. We may not survive this, Serrot.”
A grin cracking his lips, Ben’s old friend lifted his ale. “Ben, I believe you mean that about the danger, but if you’re willing to risk your life on it, then so am I. There’s not a thing you’ll say to make me change my mind.”
Ben raised his mug as well, “It’ll be good to have you with us, then.”
“What do you think, Brandon?” asked Serrot.
Brandon crossed his arms and sat back. “I-I don’t think I can leave Farview. We haven’t seen a demon in a month, but they could come back. There’s worry about what the soldiers will do after the war. There’s rebuilding to do, disputes to settle… They’re counting on me, now.”
“You’re a good man,” said Serrot.
“Damn I wish I could go, though!” said Brandon, slapping a hand on the table. “You’ve got to tell me about it, Ben, everything you’ve been up to, and bring your friends over. I’ll buy the ale if they fill me in on the details you’re too modest to admit!”
“I think you might regret that,” said Ben. He turned to glance over his shoulder and saw Rhys was already pushing his chair back, a predatory look in his eyes.
As the
sun was still lurking just under the cusp of hills around them, Ben and his friends trooped out of Murdoch’s Waystation. The air was chill from the elevation and the turning of the seasons.
“Tough time to be conducting a war,” remarked Rhys, tugging on his cloak to pull it over his weapons and around his body.
“I haven’t drank like that since you left, Ben,” moaned Serrot.
“He’s a bad influence on everyone,” said Amelie. She sheepishly hid a yawn with a balled fist.
“Life is hard on the road. We’ve got to be harder,” retorted Ben.
He scrubbed a hand over his face and blinked as the first few bright rays of sun stabbed over the horizon. A few more bells of rest would have been nice, but they needed to make Issen before Saala. They had to press on.
“Was everything you said last night true?” wondered Serrot.
“I, ah, I don’t remember everything,” admitted Ben. “I know I didn’t lie about anything, though.”
“Some of it seemed… far-fetched,” responded Serrot. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m still going with you. I know there will be an adventure, but a demon-king, the South Continent, all that stuff with the mages, the Veil herself?”
“That’s all true,” confirmed Ben.
Serrot leaned close and lowered his voice, “Are you really, you know, with her? Is she really the ruler of Issen?”
“It’s none of your business on that first bit, but yes, she will be the leader of Issen, if we can get here there.”
“What about her?” asked Serrot, glancing at Prem.
The spry former guardian was walking a dozen paces ahead of them, peering curiously at the debris that had been left by the army.
“No,” answered Ben. “She’s something different.”
“Well,” said Serrot. “She’s our age, and she’s nice to look at. There’s worse company to be on a long journey with.”
Ben coughed. “Did we not tell you… You know what, never mind.”
They marched on quietly for another two bells, everyone recovering from a long night and an early morning.
Serrot finally broke the silence, “This is the furthest I’ve ever been from Farview. First time I’ll spend more than a few nights away from home, actually.”
“Me too,” said Prem, looking back over her shoulder. “I mean, it’s been more than a few nights already, but until they came along, I’d never left my forest.”
“Your forest? Where did you live?” asked Serrot.
“Southwest of the City,” explained Prem. “In the woods between there and Akew Woods.”
“Akew Woods?” asked Serrot. “Never heard of it.”
“She’s probably never heard of Farview,” remarked Rhys, stepping closer to walk beside Prem.
Serrot chuckled and adjusted his ash bow, moving it to his other shoulder. “Fair enough. Rhys, right? Where are you from?”
The rogue eyed the young archer. “I’m from all over, I suppose.”
“An adventurer like Ben, huh? But where were you born?”
Rhys frowned. “Another place I don’t think you would have heard of.”
“There’s a lot to the world, isn’t there?” chirped Serrot.
Ben grunted in acknowledgement. Not long before, he’d been in Serrot’s boots. He hadn’t heard of Akew Woods and thoughts of demon-kings, the Veil, assassins, rifts… none of it would have seemed real. He began to realize that while they’d told Serrot about the threats they had faced and the challenges they expected to find in Issen, his old friend didn’t understand it. To Serrot, those were just stories, and in stories, the good guys always won. The danger was merely a plot device, and you never worried the hero would die. Between going to Issen and putting themselves between the Alliance and the Coalition, there was a good chance it wasn’t going to be a storybook ending. There was a good chance they wouldn’t survive. They had to try, but they had to be realistic about it, too.
“Rhys,” said Ben. “Have you ever been through a war? A real one, like what we’re hiking toward?”
Rhys swept a hand back through his hair, trying to keep the unruly mop from his face. He tied it into a loose knot atop his head before muttering, “I’ve got to get this cut.”
“Let me know when,” said Prem with a wink. She slipped a long knife from the sheath and spun it, looking pointedly at the rogue’s neck.
Rhys snorted and then turned to Ben. “I have been in a few wars. Been around the outskirts of a few more. They’re not pleasant, as you can imagine. Why do you ask?”
“If we do make it into the city, and we are able to convince this Lord Dronson and his peers that Amelie is, well, is Amelie, then what happens if we cannot talk Saala and Jason down?”
Rhys pulled a skin from his belt and squirted a streamer of amber liquid into his mouth. “It’s hard to say, honestly. We’ll be sitting in the most defensible position within hundreds of leagues. The walls of Issen would be a huge advantage, even outnumbered. Without mages, I certainly wouldn’t want to brave an assault against the place. If they’re willing to sacrifice some men getting over the wall, though, they’ll have enough to do it.
“Saala’s too smart for that,” continued Rhys, after walking another dozen paces. “That’s what worries me. He was marshaling his troops and preparing to move to Issen long before word came that Selene’s title was stripped, long before the Coalition lost control of the city. He has forty thousand more soldiers in Whitehall, but even with those men, it’d be a close fight. I can’t tell you what that bald bastard has planned, but I’d bet plenty of gold he has something sneaky in mind.”
“And Lord Jason is just as smart,” added Ben.
“He has mages on his council, too,” reminded Amelie. “The ones we didn’t kill, at least.”
“Killed who?” asked Serrot.
“It’s not important now,” said Ben, frowning. “Everything we know implies both armies are close to equally matched. Both commanders are intelligent, ruthless men, but they’re careful enough to wait until they have an advantage. I don’t think they’d waste their men’s lives frivolously.”
“How do you know all of this?” wondered Serrot.
“He’s crossed swords with both of them,” mentioned Rhys.
“Really?” asked Serrot. “I thought you were exaggerating. We’d had a few drinks…”
No one responded to him, but he didn’t seem to mind. He was too excited and nervous to worry about the details of the conversation. Ben knew the feeling from a year earlier.
“The walls of Issen are tall and defensible,” said Amelie, “but there is plenty outside of those walls. It may have changed in the last year, but two-thirds of the population lived outside the keep. Much of the commerce takes place there. There is room in the castle to pull the population in for a short time, but the city has grown since the fortifications were originally built. Much of what makes Issen valuable could be destroyed while defenders sit on the battlements, helpless to stop it.”
“Would Saala, or even Jason for that matter, plan to destroy the city?” pondered Ben. “It’s known as a key defense point, but it would also be a source of tax revenue and skilled tradesmen, wouldn’t it?”
“Thinking like a lord,” said Amelie, grinning. “You’re right, of course. I don’t think either side would want to destroy the wealth they could gain after the battle. Maybe if they were forced to, but if not, why waste the resources?”
“They both have plans,” stated Ben. “They both think they can gain an advantage somehow, and I’m sure they’re both furiously plotting to foil what they think the other side might do. The best commanders all across the continent will be weighing in, considering options, and thinking about moves and countermoves. I can’t imagine either one of them is planning for what we intend, though.”
“The element of surprise,” agreed Rhys.
“What we need to figure out,” said Ben, “is how to make the best use of it.”
“We keep it a surprise,” suggested Prem.
“As soon as they know we’re in Issen and that we’ve put Amelie on the throne, they’ll be able to adjust. If they don’t know, then we limit their reaction time.”
“Getting our forces in undetected will be difficult,” advised Rhys. “From what Adrick Morgan told you, there’s what, two thousand of them now?”
“And growing every day,” confirmed the former guardian.
“That many men—”
“And women,” interjected Prem.
Sighing, Rhys continued, “That many men – and women – will not be able to just walk in the front gate with no one noticing. The Alliance and Coalition do not have forces in town to wrest control from the locals, but you can bet they have spies.”
“We need to get there first and make our moves before they are in position,” said Ben. “We need to convince the highborn to acknowledge Amelie’s legal right, all without the spies finding out what is happening. Then we need to sneak two thousand men – and women – through public areas and into a castle.”
“It will be difficult,” murmured Amelie, “but I think it’s possible. There are only about two dozen highborn we need to convince, with Lord Dronson being the key member of the council.”
“Like always, we start at the first step,” said Ben. “We need to get ourselves in undetected and then find Lord Dronson.”
“That should be easy,” assured Rhys.
Amelie stared at the rogue. “You think it will be easy to sneak into Issen’s castle, while men are on the ramparts, watching for two approaching armies?”
Rhys grinned at her. “You worry about the highborn’ing. Leave the sneaking to me. Getting in will be easy. Staying hidden, well, we might need help on the inside for that.”
Amelie snorted, but didn’t dispute the rogue’s statement. “Once we get in, I have friends who can hide us. Hiding Ben’s army is going to be a bigger challenge.”
“Wait,” said Serrot. “It’s really Ben’s army?”