Cyndee frowned deeper, though the compliment pleased her. “It’s the chicken broth. Brings out the vegetables.”
Fenn pulled open the back door and walked in and caught de Baard with the spoon in her hand. He smiled.
“Smells wonderful…both of you,” he said. Cyndee glared at him.
“Shut it ya old numbskull.”
de Baard smiled but said nothing and both she and Fenn sat down and discussed the war news as Cyndee set the table and served the food. They all ate quietly for a time. The food was very, very good and de Baard ate heartily.
“So the old Deutzani King is dead?” Fenn asked obviously delighted, taking a large bite of bread.
“Hmmmph,” Cyndee said.
“Oh yes. He’s very dead,” de Baard answered with a slight smile for the nice old man and he beamed back at her, slightly dazed by her beauty.
“And ya say Pr…King Gwaynn is a fighter?”
“Yes…he’s very good,” she answered as she finished her chicken. It was every bit as good as it smelled. The vegetables were also excellent, but the bread was a bit undercooked.
“Hmmmph,” Cyndee mumbled again. de Baard glanced her way. The old woman was finished eating and was leaning back slightly, her arms crossed over her ample bosoms, clearly unimpressed.
“I see your kali,” Fenn said hastily, trying to cover his wife’s rudeness. Cyndee, sweet as she was, could be a bear at times, though when ya came to know her ya realized she didn’t mean nothin’ by it. “You a Captain of arms?”
de Baard nodded, a bit confused by the question.
“That’s something,” Fenn added with another wide smile. “I reckoned most woman fighters to be workin’ with the bow.”
“It ain’t proper for any woman to be a fightin’,” Cyndee finally said, confident her opinion was the only one that truly mattered. They were her first true words since supper was served.
de Baard sat utterly still, her thoughts drifting dangerously toward the bitch Samantha, at the mention of women fighting with the bow. She smiled sweetly at Cyndee.
“What was that?”
“She don’t mean nothing’.” Fenn said hastily. He was very practiced at smoothing over his wife’s rough edges with folk.
“Do too mean somethin’,” Cyndee retorted. “I mean it ain’t proper for woman to be fightin’. Tis man’s work.”
“Not proper?” de Baard asked, her right hand quivering ever so slightly, the itch beginning to build. She placed it lightly on the hilt of her kali to steady it.
“Not proper!” Cyndee repeated.
“Now ladies,” Fenn said.
“Not proper,” Cyndee insisted with a scowl. She didn’t much like the beautiful young woman who sat meekly at her table. “I’m surprised Prince Gwaynn didn’t just send ya away…not much better than a harlot.”
de Baard’s eyes widened slightly.
“Now Cyndee…” Jasper started, but his wife interrupted.
“No proper woman would…” Cyndee fumed but stopped in mid-sentenced as de Baard drew her sword and lashed out, hard and fast. A bright red smile appeared suddenly in Cyndee’s neck; blood ran freely over her numerous chins and flowed down the cavity between her large breasts. The woman’s head remained in place for a long moment, but then slid off to the left and fell to the floor with a loud thud. It bounced once and then rolled to a stop against the oven. Once free of its head her neck sprayed blood for several long moments but luckily it missed the table. Fenn just sat very still and stared at his wife, his mouth hanging open, her death not yet registering. Cyndee was so large and wide around the hips and buttocks that her body slumped but remained upright, sitting headless in the chair.
“It’s hard to think without a head,” de Baard whispered, staring at the decapitated corpse at the table, “and it’s not proper getting blood everywhere like that,” she finished then her eyes shifted to Fenn.
“Sorry Jasper,” she said softly and began to stand. She was surprised by the speed of the old man as he launched himself out of his chair and toward the back door. Quick as he was, de Baard was faster and sliced open his back from shoulders to hips. The old man spun with a scream and de Baard plunged her left kali through his open mouth and out the back of his neck, the force of the blow driving the sharp weapon deep into the heavy wooden door. Fenn hung pinned. He struggled and waved his arms about for longer than de Baard would have thought possible. She stood back and giggled softly at the man’s antics, watching as blood and drool dripped from his ruined mouth. His movements finally grew feeble but he was still alive when de Baard moved close and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
“Your wife was horrible,” she whispered. Jasper, close to death, wanted to object; he loved his wife despite her faults, but his mouth wouldn’t work and he died thinking of her. de Baard sighed, happy and then yanked the weapon free. Jasper slid down along the door, leaving a bright trail of red behind.
de Baard looked about at the carnage in the small kitchen and smiled. ‘Now I’ll have to get my own bath,’ she thought, not truly minding. She felt better than she had in months as she wiped her kali clean on Cyndee Fenn’s floral dress, the body still sitting neatly at the table.
“No please, don’t get up,” de Baard whispered and then giggled as she left the kitchen.
ǂ
Gwaynn returned to Manse nearly six weeks from the day of his departure, and the change was utterly astounding.
“Incredible!” Krys uttered as they rode closer and closer to the outer defenses of the rapidly growing city. Manse itself was not yet visible in the distance, but all along the entrance to the oxbow new fortifications were taking shape and hundreds of men and women were busy building and adding to them.
“Bock’s amazing,” Samantha whispered and Gwaynn found that he agreed completely. The transformation was dramatic. The main thoroughfare leading out of the oxbow was wide and slightly elevated; the banks of the road near the city were reinforced with large thick timbers to help keep it from washing away. At the moment the way was packed with carts and wagons, all loaded with goods being transported between the Plateau and the busy port city of Cape. A large levee now blocked most of the opening in the oxbow and the road was the only way in and out unless you wanted to get wet and wade across the Scar River.
Bock waited patiently for them just outside the newly erected city gates. He was mounted on a chestnut mare named McGurk. He gently scratched her neck as his King and his army approached closer. Gwaynn and Samantha led the long column of men, and flapping in the wind above them was the banner of Massi, a white eagle on a dark blue field. Bock’s heart soared just seeing the image, he’d almost forgotten. Gwaynn studied the defenses closely as he rode up. The first thing that struck him was the massive gates which now towered over the flat plains below. They were anchored on either side to the high levee that made up the first line of the city’s new defenses. The gates were wide open at the moment and Gwaynn could see that they were very thick. They soared high above the road and were very impressive. Across the entire oxbow, Bock and his men excavated a large trench that was nearly twenty feet wide. Gwaynn could see that it joined with the Scar River to the west but the eastern end was lost from view. There was no telling how deep the trench was since at the moment it was filled with water diverted from the river. The water was a muddy brown and filled with fresh sediment and flowed slowly past the gates to the east.
On the far side of the trench, obviously made from the excavated dirt and rock, was a solid mound of earth, a protective berm nearly fifteen feet high. Work was still continuing on the earthen mound but near the gates it was already complete. To the east, Gwaynn could see that the levee was being erected over a strong latticework of thick timbers, ostensibly to reinforce the earthen wall. Protruding out of the thick wooden braces were long, sharpened iron spikes positioned at regular intervals. The spikes were angled downward and sticking wickedly out of the earthen works for at least a foot and a half. They would pose a nasty probl
em, threatening anyone attempting to climb up to the top of the mound from the watery trench below. From the looks of it, the protective levee was almost halfway completed.
Bock waited patiently on the lone bridge that now spanned the trench at the gates. He waited with Captain Marcum on one side and the formidable Lee Brandt on the other. As Gwaynn and his troop approached, a slight smile appeared on the General’s face.
“Welcome home, M’lord,” he said as Gwaynn came to a stop before him.
“I see you’ve been busy,” Gwaynn commented, understating the obvious. As they spoke hundreds of men and women continued to work, setting spikes deep into the ground, while others were tending to the new earthen walls. Now that he was closer Gwaynn could see new sprouts of grass growing from the sides of the dirt levee close to the gates.
“Wild grass,” Krys commented with an amused smile, “it will make a lovely little obstacle for the Temple Knights.”
Brandt laughed, but Bock only nodded. “Can’t have all our work eroding with the next heavy rain,” he explained then pointed farther to the west. “We’ve already begun to build the double wall atop the levee where it meets the Scar River. It’ll make up the main line of our defense. It’ll be saw-toothed, ten feet high and anchored to the timbers built into the ground,” he added and held his hands out in a “V” formation to show exactly what he meant, “mainly for archer protection.” Bock continued and smiled as Samantha’s eyes lit up.
“A double wall?” Gwaynn asked.
Bock nodded. “Two wooden walls about a foot and a half apart. We’re filling the gap with rock and dirt for strength and for protection against fire. It won’t be as substantial as stone walls but sturdy enough. As the hill stabilizes the construction will go much faster. The mill is running day and night cutting the planks and braces.”
“Who thought of the design?” Samantha asked excitedly.
“Was Hahn’s idea,” Bock told her, “should afford us at least a little protection.”
“You’re walling us in,” Krys said, voicing Gwaynn’s own thoughts.
Bock shrugged. “As long as we’re not attacked from the plains and the Plateau at the same time we should have an avenue of escape if things go wrong.”
“What’s to keep the enemy from pinning us up on the Plateau and starving our army?”
Bock smiled. “Travelers,” he said simply and Gwaynn frowned, thinking perhaps his General was overestimating the power of na Gall. He said nothing however, as Bock led him and his army through the gates and into the now teeming oxbow; Manse was expanding rapidly. Everyone fell quiet as they got their first glimpse of the new city. The road they were on held straight and true all the way through the heart of the city, but the oxbow was now broken up into uniformed grids. There were buildings going up everywhere but not in the haphazard fashion of old. This would be a city of right angles.
“Unbelievable,” Krys said then whistled.
“I want to be able to move men rapidly from the Plateau to the wall,” Bock explained, “and I don’t want winding roads and poor planning slowing them down.”
Gwaynn smiled and wished Master Sath was here to see this. He felt sure his old mentor would be proud. In Gwaynn’s estimation Bock was the most indispensible man in Massi.
“This is perfect,” Gwaynn said and didn’t bother to keep the awe from his voice.
Lonogan nodded his head. “I hoped you’d like it.”
Gwaynn grinned. “I do, I do, but I’m still worried about being hemmed in. Even with my help, na Gall won’t be able to move enough men and horses around to keep our army from being neutralized.”
Bock smiled. “Zarina Monde arrived this morning,” he explained. “It seems the High Council on Noble was growing uneasy about her continued presence on their Island.”
“Monde?” Gwaynn asked, slightly puzzled and began to wonder at the motives of his old adopted home. The Tars of Noble never acted lightly or without reason. He would like to talk with Tar Kostek and find out just how the Tars were viewing the continued conflict. Well, maybe now he would have his chance.
“Why here?” Krys asked, the worry on his face mirroring Gwaynn’s thoughts.
Bock chuckled loudly, drawing the attention of a group of nearby soldiers who were at the moment erecting a wall to a new barracks. The men nearest Gwaynn stopped their work and bowed their heads respectfully, a few shouted out greetings which Gwaynn returned.
“She’s quite honest about her decision,” Bock continued. “She claims to have had several offers for sanctuary…Lato and the Cassinni to name a few, but she’d not put them in danger. Monde believes the Massi are the only people in more danger than the Travelers at the moment, so her choice was obvious. But I’m glad she came. She brought nine Speakers with her, along with some of her older students…the youngest she sent back to their homelands.”
“Where is she now?” Gwaynn asked.
“She’s moved down to the Gap,” Bock answered, “it seems little Laynee has recently joined the ranks of the Travelers. Monde has gone to work more closely with her but she plans to be back tonight.”
Gwaynn smiled thinking of Laynee. ‘A Traveler…that’s good. We may have need of her before the end. Nine Speakers!”
They moved through the city proper, which was rebuilding rapidly from the fire, though now in a much more orderly design. The main road was nearly twice as wide as before and arrow straight. But again, like on Gwaynn’s very first visit to Manse, lumber wagons completely filled the large thoroughfare. Bock caught his look.
“Business is good,” Lonogan said with another smile but then became serious once more. “We are sealing up the gaps in the Scar, if the Toranado can hold out for another few weeks we should be in good enough shape to repel any attack from the plains.”
They crossed the bridge over the Scar River and moved up to the Plateau, Gwaynn saw another mass of men working on a set of impressive fortifications. Now guarding the road to the Plateau were two circular motte and bailey style fortresses with only a thirty-foot gap between them. The lower holds of the two baileys were nearly finished but work was still being done on the upper levels.
“Your castles Sire, just as you requested,” Bock stated a little mockingly. “It will have to do for a while until we can proceed with stone.”
“What of Lynndon, General?” Gwaynn teased back, “and the Aleria Passage?”
The smile fell from Lonogan’s face.
“Preparations at Lynndon are underway and are of no real concern. The Aleria Pass will be the danger,” Bock answered as they moved up and between the two baileys. Gwaynn was surprised to find that he was happy to be back on the Plateau.
“We have no way to fortify the pass,” Bock continued. “It’s much larger than the Gap and would take a sizeable force to seal it off. If the Temple Knights decide to enter through that route we will be hard pressed not to lose the Plateau.”
“Great,” Krys mumbled mostly to himself. “How many men would it take to hold the pass?”
Bock shook his head. “Fifteen thousand.”
Krys and Samantha whistled in unison then smiled at each other.
“But against the Temple Knights the figure may have to be doubled,” the General amended.
Gwaynn frowned, that was nearly the size of his entire army. It was definitely a worry. Perhaps instead of a fortress here at Manse, Bock was building a diversion. The beginning of an idea flittered about Gwaynn’s mind, teasingly close, but then they broke away from the new construction and caught sight of the vast, flat lands of the Plateau. An enormous area around them was currently filled with groups of men training for combat. Gwaynn spotted Hahn in the distance working with several thousand archers, and closer in there were large groups of soldiers working with pikes, swords and a few smaller groups with katas. They all watched for several moments, each impressed by the sheer scale of the training.
“Holy…how many?” Krys asked, thoroughly amazed.
“Seven thousand…give o
r take,” Bock answered. “They’ve been pouring in from all over the plains.”
“Ha!” Samantha yelled and spurred Maggie off toward the archers, but not before she shot a dazzling smile back at Gwaynn.
Bock laughed again. “I’m glad to have all of you back; Tanner needs to work hard with the new cavalry. They’ll be essential.”
Gwaynn and Krys watched the men closest to them work with katas.
“Are they heavy?” Gwaynn asked.
Bock nodded, following the King’s gaze. “All of them, katas, pikes, swords, everything but the bows, double the weight of their counterparts.
Krys whistled again, watching the men. “They’re improving.”
Bock agreed with the assessment. “Yes and growing stronger. Some are now veterans of two major battles, but we still need you and Gwaynn to begin working with them. Cyndar is a nasty little fighter, full of tricks, but she’s uncomfortable training anyone, let alone large groups…” His voice trailed off when he noticed Gwaynn’s attention was fixed on a pair of nearby soldiers working with katas. Bock wondered at it as Gwaynn rode slowly forward.
“Hold your left kata higher, Jake of Bern,” Gwaynn said interrupting the two men, but then motioned for them to continue. Jake looked up and caught sight of Gwaynn and Krys.
“Jake, the protector of Bern,” Krys interjected with a smile of his own. “Do as the King commands, hold your left higher. You’ll get knots on the side of your head if ignore such prudent advice.”
Jake smiled in greeting and pulled his left hand higher. But he was nearly exhausted and the heavy kata felt as if it were made of lead. Nevertheless he faced his opponent, ready to spar, but before they could begin Gwaynn was off his horse and approaching. Both men bowed slightly, but Gwaynn just shook his head.
“Continue,” he said softly and studied the two as they moved through a few forms before he stopped them once again. “Katas,” he yelled and another pair almost magically appeared.
“You’re tired,” Gwaynn said to both of them, “but if you keep your guard too low you’ll waist time and energy. A low guard complicates everything. It’s much harder to deflect an attack coming from the shoulders up, and you’ll likely lose your head. Keep your guard high; it’s much easier and more fluid to move downward. The entire earth is behind such a move. Use her to your advantage. Look…here,” he said and assumed the basic form, right kata chest high, left kata shoulder high, both points facing outward away from his body. “From this point your entire body is well defended and you can attack and defend at speed. Krys.”
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