by Kal Spriggs
Katarina nodded, "That's true. Even our most experience soldiers have less than a cycle of fighting together as a unit. Many of them have far less than that..." She looked around the table, "But we're fighting for our homes. We're fighting to right wrongs... and in the end, most of Hector's men are just fighting for money."
"There's plenty of soldiers stood up from Longhaven who will march to his banner, my Lady," Lord Theodore said cautiously.
"True," Katarina said, "But they'll march knowing that they're standing against the rest of the Duchy. We'll add a thousand soldiers at Castle Redcoast, plus whatever other forces march to support me." Katarina didn't expect the city and town militias would march, but she wasn't going to admit that right now. She needed to win this argument for the simple reason that this war needed to end in time for the victor to defend their lands.
That meant there needed to be a single, decisive victory... which required an all-or-nothing attack. Otherwise, with a divided nation, this wizard and his Armen army would achieve their goal. Katarina wasn't about to let that happen... even if it meant she would have to risk everything she'd worked for to prevent it.
"This is a dire gamble," Baron Theodore said. He got a twinkle in his eye, though, and he gave a broad grin, similar to the rakish smile his son, Lord Jack, often wore, "I like this plan."
Bulmor finally gave a reluctant nod, "Fine." His voice was grudging, a sure sign that he hated the risk it put her in. Just as well, since she hated the risk it put to everyone who had supported her. Yet in the end, it was the survival of her army and principles against the survival of her Duchy.
In that case, she thought, there's not much of a decision after all.
***
Kara
Ember Castle, Duchy of Masov
Tenth of Shallob, Cycle 1000 Post Sundering
Kara looked down at Lord Lukas’s sleeping face and she bit her lip. She should be working with Lady Katarina's guards to look over the kidnappers bodies, to search for clues about who had sent them and to learn more about this mysterious Gray Man. Her father was watching her son to give her time to be here... and she felt terribly guilty about it.
Yet without Lord Lukas... she would be dead. Worse, her son would be dead.
She stared down at the relaxed features of the young man. He was so unlike her Josef. Slight of frame and with fair hair, he looked every bit the aristocratic noble. She should hate him, both specifically for how he had forced Josef to flee his home and in general for how the nobility had allowed things to get to this state through their selfishness and incompetence.
But Lord Lukas had protected her unwaveringly. He had taken her abuse, ignored her barbs, and in the end, he had been willing to die to protect her.
As it was, the healer had suggested he was very lucky to be alive. A sword strike which could have split his skull had deflected slightly, which would leave him a lurid scar across his forehead where the blade had peeled back skin, barely missing his eye. A bandage wrapped most of his head from that alone. The stabs to his chest had been turned by his armor, but had left cracked ribs and heavy bruises even so.
In their rush to get past him, the kidnappers hadn't taken time to finish him off. That itself was a huge stroke of luck for him.
To her surprise, his eyes opened. They widened as he saw her and he tried to sit up.
With firm hands, she pushed him back down, "Do not try to get up. You're lucky to be alive, you idiot."
His face flushed, "Sorry," he said. One hand went to the bandage on his head and she could tell he was in pain. "The healer left this for you, it should mute the pain and help you to sleep." She took the glass on the bed and then helped him to drink it.
"Thank you," he said. His eyes focused on her, "Will... will you be here when I wake?"
Kara felt a pain in her chest. She thought of Josef, thought of all the strange, muddled feelings she had felt when she found Lukas alive under a tangle of bodies. Involuntarily, she reached out a hand and took his. "Yes," she said, "I'll be right here."
It's just to make the poor fool feel better, she told herself, that's all.
***
Commander Kerrel Flamehair
North of Seidlyce, Duchy of Masov
Tenth of Shallob, Cycle 1000 Post Sundering
Kerrel didn't look over as Jay pulled his horse alongside her. "Commander," he said. The spy wore heavy armor and colors to match her cavalry. He'd grown out a scruffy beard and darkened his hair. Kerrel knew his name wasn't actually Jay, but it was the only name that he'd given her. She knew some of his other aliases such as Tom Wolno and Arren Smith, but "Jay" was the one she'd known him under for the longest.
"Jay," Kerrel responded. She let out a sigh, "You were right."
"He's pulling back to Leizno," Jay nodded. "It makes sense strategically, but it's going to protract this war." He shook his head, "I suppose it's the best of the bad options he has, given this mess..."
"Instead of throwing stones, perhaps we should discuss how to improve the situation?" Kerrel snapped.
Jay looked over at her, "Sorry. I know you've developed something of an attachment to him. It wasn't an attack."
"I know," Kerrel replied, even as she pulled off her helmet and ran a hand through her red hair. "I know that, but ancestors this is all so frustrating. Grel destroyed our one good chance at peace and Covle Darkbit destroyed any goodwill in the south."
"I know," Jay nodded, "I wanted that to work out, as well. A lot of my plans hinge upon settling this war here, preferably with as little damage as possible."
Kerrel thought back to the peace talks at the Ryftguard. Jay had been an important figure within Lady Katarina's rebellious army, one of her captains and chief advisers. "I take it Katarina and Hector both fit into your plans?"
Jay gave a nod. "And others besides. I was glad to see you and Katarina get along well, you've much in common."
Kerrel snorted, "She was nice enough, but part of me wishes Grel had succeeded and killed her and prevented all this."
"She's sworn an oath to support the High Kings," Jay said softly. "It's the first time that the heir to a Duchy has sworn that oath in twenty generations." He glanced at her, "While she might not have done so for the same reasons that you have... she'll support the restoration."
Kerrel thought about what she had seen of Katarina and what she knew about the young woman. Lady Katarina was the daughter of Duke Peter of Masov and Lady Alexia of Marovingia. Lady Alexia's grandfather was closely related to the Duke of Marovingia and her mother had been one of the last Duke of Taral's daughters. That meant that Lady Katarina had noble blood from three of the Five Duchies. She'd also formed enough of a working relationship with the new Grand Duke of Boir to defeat an army of Norics and Armen... and from what Jay had said, to plan her assault on the Ryftguard.
"You think she'd be a candidate for... leadership of the Five Duchies?" Kerrel asked. Something in her balked at attributing the position of "High King" to Katarina. Not that females were barred, far from it, there had been a number of "High Queens." Kerrel's problem was that she had thought of Katarina as an opponent for almost a cycle now. Yes, she was a respected opponent, one she might even come to like if not for the circumstance, but they stood on opposite sides.
Hector did usurp power here, but he's accomplished so much, he has such potential as a military commander... It was hard to think beyond the current conflict and Kerrel once again realized just how compromised she had become emotionally.
"Possibly," Jay said. "There's a number of possibilities. Hector is another. Obviously this little war would need to be settled for either of them to be any real consideration."
"You'd need the Sundered Blade for any of this to matter, anyway," Kerrel said with a snort.
Something about Jay's stillness told her that she had hit upon something. Kerrel's head snapped around and she stared at him. "Ancestors... you've recovered the Starblade, haven't you?" When he didn't respond, she thought back on what she had s
een and heard at the Ryftguard. One of Jay's companions, the young man from Watkowa Village, he had carried a blade...
Her mind flashed back to that memory, dulled and blurred from her injury not long afterwards. "The boy... Aerion, he has it, doesn't he?"
The grim set of Jay's face told her the answer. Kerrel could only shake her head, "Does he have any idea what it is that he carries?"
Jay gave a nod. "He's sworn to the Spirit of Southwatch to guard it."
Kerrel shook her head again. To think that the Starblade was in play... "Who else knows?" The Luciel Order didn't, else they would be afire with the possibilities. The Restorationists weren't organized enough to keep such a secret. The Order of King Gordon... If they knew, Kerrel thought, they'd have a hundred knights on the way to retrieve it.
"Me, you, the lad and his mother," Jay said. He coughed, "A Shrouded Wizard... and from what I understand, the King of the Wold."
"A Shrouded Wizard?!" Kerrel realized that her voice had grown too loud as several of her men looked over at her. "Are you serious? One of Noth's Disciples is involved?" It took her longer to process the rest, "And wait, what is this about the Wold?"
"It's a long story," Jay responded with a pained expression. "I don't have all the details myself."
"This is..." Kerrel shook her head, "Frankly, I don't know what to make of this. It was bad enough working through the Luciel Order and holding their secrets. Now this..."
"You see why we need to make peace," Jay said. "As swiftly as possible. If you see any opportunity you must push Hector towards it."
Kerrel didn't argue. She couldn't. She felt as if the very ground underneath her had shifted to show a realm of possibilities that she hadn't even hoped for. Every action she had taken on behalf of her oaths and the Luciel Order, until now, had been defensive. Designed to slow the fall of civilization.
Now, it seemed, there was an opportunity to take the offense, to restore the Five Duchies to what they had once been: one powerful and unified nation, united under the High Kings. All she had to do was stop a civil war in progress.
***
Gerlin
Ember River, Duchy of Masov
Eleventh of Shallob, Cycle 1000 Post Sundering
Gerlin bit his lip as he judged the current. When he and his men had crossed the river, scouting Hector's forces around the city of Seidlyce, the snow melt from the Ember Hills had not yet fully begun. The river had been fordable and he and a squad of his scouts had made the journey easily.
Now, though, the Ember River gushed, full to its banks with icy, muddy water, flecked with the same amber quartz that gave the river and the hills their name. With the setting sun catching the river, it made it seem like the river had caught fire... part of where the name came from, he knew.
Knowing that didn't really help him, though. Gerlin had sent his squad back two days earlier, as he followed Hector's army in its withdrawal, just to be certain that it wasn't a feint of some kind. With even four or five men, crossing the river wouldn't be as much of an issue. By himself, with darkness coming on... it was a good way to get wet, cold, and quite possibly drowned.
Even if he made it across, Hector's scouts were on both sides of the river. If he made a fire, he'd draw their attention... and it would be rather hard to explain what he was doing out here.
His other option would be to head towards Seidlyce and cross at one of the city's bridges. Yet if he did that, he would have to bypass the town's militia somehow. Hard enough for a normal southerner to do, but a halfblood would attract more attention just with general distrust.
There wasn't a good answer and Gerlin knew he only had himself to blame. He should have come back sooner or withdrawn with the rest of his squad. Yet he couldn't believe that Hector had chosen to withdraw...
The sound of a footstep behind him broke him from his thoughts. Gerlin spun, coming face to face with another man dressed similarly in darkened leathers. He too was a halfblood, though he had a lurid scar across his cheek.
Both men froze and Gerlin realized that his predicament was quite a bit worse than he had expected. The other scout carried a drawn dagger and he lunged forward with it even as Gerlin leapt back.
"Your friends already crossed the river," the man said. "They won't be back to help you. How about you surrender and do this the easy way?"
The confident tone in the other man's voice told Gerlin that his enemy wasn't here alone. A flick of the man's eyes was all the warning that Gerlin had and he threw himself to the side as another scout lunged at him.
Gerlin rolled down the bank to the edge of the river. Three men hurried to the top of the bank and paused, looking down at him. All three were halfbloods, he saw, scouts by their armor and weapons. They must have waited here for him, he realized.
There wasn't time to think. Gerlin dove into the water, swimming hard against the current. He didn't have supplies or half his gear, but he could worry about that later, for now...
He felt a stabbing pain in his left leg and he screamed and inhaled river water. A moment later that pain grew and Gerlin gasped and coughed as something pulled him back. He struggled against it, fighting not so much to prevent being drawn in, but to reach air, as he choked down breaths of water and foam.
They finally dragged him out of the river and Gerlin coughed and gasped, taking wheezing breaths even as he retched out river water.
"Good job, Ivan," one of the scouts said, "that grappling hook did the job."
Gerlin screamed then as he felt a wrenching pain. Looking back he saw the first scout had ripped the hook out of his leg. Gerlin grabbed at his calf, and blood oozed from the wound, quickly staining his pant-leg black.
"Now then," the scout squatted in front of him. "I know you're working for that rebel bitch. Lord Hector's got a nice bounty on her scouts alive, but with the quality of your gear, we ain't got a problem turning you over for his bounty on dead ones."
Gerlin gritted his teeth, "Kiss my dark-skinned ass."
Another of the scouts put his boot on the long gash and then put weight on it. Gerlin choked down another scream. "Now," the first man said, "that's got to hurt. There's plenty more pain where that comes from and we ain't even asked you questions yet."
Gerlin knew he wasn't going to get out of this alive. He knew how scouts like these operated. They normally worked for Hector in the north, operating against Armen. The fact that he too was a halfblood would mean little or nothing to them. They'd probably been raiders or bandits before they saw the money to be made as scouts.
Torture was something that men like this did for amusement or to pass the time. They'd cut his throat just to save themselves the effort of patching his wound. His best hope was to bleed out before they tired of words and got more serious.
Gerlin withdrew his hands from the wound. "Ask what you want, it'll do you no good."
His left hand went down by his thigh and the hidden knife he kept there, wrapped in the seam of his trousers. It would do no good against them, but he might be able to cut his own wrist...
"Ivan," the first scout said, "hit him, and then check him for knives, he's up to something."
Gerlin's last sight was wooden spear haft coming for his face.
***
Commander Kerrel Flamehair
"Commander," Baran grunted from outside her tent. "Some scouts just showed up, claim they caught a spy."
Kerrel grimaced at that as she rubbed sleep from her eyes. Half the "spies" the mercenary scouts had turned in were scared farmers or refugees. More than a few of them were killed "resisting" as well.
"I'm coming," Katarina sighed and rose from her camp cot. After the meeting with Hector, she'd withdrawn to the rear guard position that most of her command held. She stepped out of her tent and it took her eyes some time to adjust to the torchlight.
Her frown deepened as she saw Zadek and his two henchmen. The halfblood scout was one of the worst. He routinely brought in dead men and women for Hector's bounty on Katarina's scou
ts, most often when he and his two "brothers" were low on drinking money.
Zadek gave her what was supposed to be a winning smile. That's right, Kerrel thought, he thinks he's a lady's man. "What do you want, Zadek."
"Commander," Zadek bowed in a mocking fashion. "My brothers and I have found one of Katarina's scouts. We caught him trying to cross the Ember River near dusk."
Zadek's two brothers dragged a body over. To her surprise, the man wore leathers. That meant he might even be what they had said. She saw a dark stain down the man's leg. The bigger of Zadek's "brothers" tilted their captive's head back.
Kerrel winced at the bloodied face. One eye was swollen shut, his nose was broken, but despite all the blood, she could see he still breathed.
Kerrel frowned as she stared at him. He looked familiar, somehow.
"Where's his gear?" Kerrel asked sharply.
Zadek scowled but he waved a hand and one of his brothers dropped a pack to the ground. Kerrel nodded at Baran who retrieved it and then rifled through it. "Maps, rations, some survival equipment."
To her knowledge, this was the first real scout that they'd caught. "Get him to the healer," Kerrel said to Baran. Hector's standing orders were to question any scouts they caught and to bring them back to him for further interrogation.
Spies were to be hung.
"Commander," Zadek said, "there is the small matter of payment..."
Kerrel grimaced, but she nodded at Baran who passed the halfblood the bounty. Zadek's brothers dropped their prisoner and Kerrel scowled as he fell limp to the ground. "Get him to the healer," Kerrel said. She waited as two men carried the limp form away. Odds were that she hadn't done the man any favors. The beating he had received from Zadek and his two brothers was crude in comparison to what Lord Hector might well order.
Then again, she couldn't just let the man die. Zadek had brought him in three-quarters dead, but now that she'd taken charge of him, she'd get him in as good of shape as she could. Hopefully he didn't know anything of value or, even better, this would prove too be a misunderstanding and she could just let him go.