“Bring the army up from Sherwood and Walsingham,” El Gato said. “We’ve enough troops. We can be on her doorstep in three days time.”
“That might be our best plan,” Darras said. “Only trouble is that she’ll see that coming. The road from Fort Marion is watched. As soon as they open the doors she’ll know the army is on it’s way to her. She fall back inside of her caves. We don’t have enough men to drive her out of there, and while we’re doing that she’ll slip some of her army out one of her back doors and raid some other town. The army can’t stay on her doorstep forever.”
“Darras,” Tiberius asked, “What do you think she’d do if she thought we weren’t on to her?”
Darras studied the map. “If I were her I’d come straight south to Lychester, hit there on Halloween, Secondtown on the 1st. I’d make for Henry’s on the 2nd; after that it would depend on reports of how close the army is. From Henry’s she can scatter in all directions and let the army try and catch her.”
“That’s probably her plan,” Lord Brandon concurred. “I doubt she’d target Stapleshire, too much chance of being caught between the armies of Sherwood and Walsingham. Northwest she’d be running away from our armies but into the elves. The towns along the river have better fortifications too. She hasn’t bothered Lychester much; I’ll bet she’s been saving it as a juicy morsel for just such an occasion as this.
“What if the army didn’t just march out from Fort Marion? They could force march south west behind the wall, cut over near Walsingham and with help from the gnomes take the back roads over the hills to Lychester,” Tiberius suggested.
“That would take a week,” Lord Brandon protested.
“I don’t think so. The army should be able to force march one day behind the wall, 30 miles. Another 20 to Lychester over the hills. Easily done in two days.”
“I don’t know. It would take a day for the messenger to get to Fort Marion. If the commander is around and he decides to listen to the messenger…”
“What if you were to go yourself, sir? I can have you there in two hours,” Tiberius said.
“Two hours? The fastest stagecoach couldn’t … oh...” It suddenly hit Lord Brandon what Tiberius was suggesting.
“I can get you to Fort Marion in two hours. Another hour to Walsingham. We can have the army on the move by dawn.”
Darras nodded agreement. “If they can come up though the hills from the south there’s a chance the queen’s troops won’t see them until it’s too late. If we can have the militia join them…”
“It’s sixty miles from here to Lychester,” Lord Brandon said.
“Fifty miles has been done in a single day, frequently,” Darras said.
“Yes, but can our militia do it in three?” Lord Brandon took a few steps over and looked out the window at the sky. It was more overcast than he would have liked, but not overly threatening. “If the weather holds...” He shook his head. “Look, you boys don’t know what you’re asking. Even if I can get there in an instant there’s no guarantee that I’ll be able to talk the other commanders into this plan. If we guess wrong, the queen could slip around us and make an attack on Sherwood City. Colonel Brice may not feel like risking his career for this scheme. God only knows what they’ll think of this idea down in Walsingham. In any case, we will be committed. We’ll be putting the county militia against the queen’s army for sure. That could be a near thing if we don’t get our reinforcements from the regular army.”
“If there’s any chance, sir, I think we should try,” Darras said enthusiastically. “At worst we’ll get the other commanders to put on a show of force. That would blunt the force of the queen’s raid if nothing else.”
Lord Brandon made up his mind. “By God, we’ll try it. At worst we will drive her back into her holes. Darras, you’ll take command in my absence. If anyone can get the militia to Lychester in three days it’s you. I want messengers to every village on their way tonight. Get Malory to send reinforcements to Reuelshire. They’ll never make it to Lychester in time but Reuelshire will need the reinforcements if they slip past us somehow. Tiberius, how do we do this?”
“Just saddle your horse and be ready to ride; I’ll take care of the rest,” he answered.
Getting the horses ready didn’t take long. Lord Brandon and Tiberius rode normally, walking their horses out of the fortress.
“What now?” Lord Brandon asked.
“Now? Now we ride!” Tiberius answered. Leaning towards the horses and gripping his staff he spoke, “Kuru kiel la vento!”
Both horses reared up and the next minute both were off like a shot. The horses ran, starting out running as any horses would, but Lord Brandon soon realized they were accelerating beyond what was normally possible for a horse. The hooves of the horses were glowing with a blue fire and sparks frequently lit out when their hooves touched a rock on the road. They rode neck and neck together. Lord Brandon realized he still had to guide the horse; he was still riding it. Actually it seemed to be running fairly normally apart from the fact it was going faster than was normally possible.
Tiberius looked over at him. He had to shout a bit because of the wind. “Are you all right?” he asked.
Lord Brandon shouted back at him, “I have got to learn how you do this!”
Tiberius laughed and they continued along the road.
The guards at the Sherwood Fortress were alarmed by a faint blue light moving towards them, very quickly. The captain of the watch was summoned but the light was fading and slowing down as he came to the walls. At last two men were seen on horseback riding up calmly to the gate.
“Who goes there?” the captain asked, shining a light down on the riders.
“Lord Brandon of Vonair. I need to speak to your CO. Now!”
Recognizing the colonel, the sergeant snapped to attention. “Yes, M’lord! Sir, the commander’s gone to bed.”
Lord Brandon stepped over to him. “It’s only nine o’clock. Wake him; don’t tell me he’s indisposed, either. I don’t care if you have to kick a whore out of a his room and sober him up, I need to see him, NOW!”
The sergeant practically fell over himself trying to salute, back up, and go get the commander all at once. Tiberius spoke a brief word to Lord Brandon.
“I need to speak with Dallen about covering the witch’s spies.”
“Go now; this will take a while. How quick before we can do this again?”
“As quick as you like,” Tiberius replied.
“Check back in an hour; if we can make Walsingham before midnight…”
“We should, if luck holds.”
“Good, an hour then; wait, Dallen’s in Sherwood City, isn’t he? Could you take a quick note to General Fuller? He should be informed; the Sherwood Militia might have to cover Fort Marion.”
Lord Brandon drew out some paper and scratched out a quick message.
Tiberius hesitated, one of the few times Lord Brandon ever saw Tiberius falter.
“General Fuller’s your father isn’t he? I gather you don’t talk much these days. If it’s too awkward…”
Tiberius snatched the note.
“No, that’s fine. He’s never hesitated to do his duty. Nor have I. He’s just not … enthusiastic about my chosen profession. I’ll meet you back at the inn, around midnight.”
A few minutes later, Tiberius entered Dallen’s mansion. Mr. Eumaios met him with a cup of coffee, which Tiberius gratefully accepted. Dallen joined him a minute later.
“Always a pleasure, Tiberius; what brings you out this time of night?”
“I’m sorry, sir; the hour presses. The goblins are massing for an attack on Halloween. We’ve just days to stop them.”
“What can I do to help?” Dallen asked.
“I brought Lord Brandon here to speak with the army. I think we can have the troops in place in time, but I’m worried about the enemy's spies. If we can keep them from knowing our true position it would be a great advantage. But they have many birds and shadow c
reatures at their command. I know the theories of how to combat that but…”
Dallen smiled. “Ah, the old game, eh?” He gave a gentle chuckle. “Yes, that’s a bit tricky. You’ll need to study my monograph on the subject. For now, though, I think I can teach best by a bit of demonstration.”
Dallen gave a soft whistle. A moment later one of his silver birds flew up and he held out a finger for it to perch upon. Dallen bent over and whispered to it.
“Get the others, we’re going to keep the goblin queen’s spies on the run for a few days.”
The silver bird saluted. “We’ll take care of it, sir!”
Dallen nodded and set the bird off. It flew out of the room. Then he turned back to Tiberius. “Are you spending the night here?”
“No, I’m taking Lord Brandon to Walsingham. Within the hour.”
Dallen nodded his understanding. “One more thing. This will be your first major battle as a magi,” Dallen said thoughtfully. “You’ll find the conditions challenging. Too much emotion and blood on a battlefield. Let me give you one more word of advice. Don’t try and do too much.”
“You don’t think I should help?” Tiberius asked.
“Oh, I didn’t say that. I’m just suggesting that how you help could be important. When it comes to these major world events, what we want to do as magi is not make victory, but make victory possible. You are a much stronger magician when you act as part of the team. You want to assist the army, not replace it. We magi understand the secrets of the universe, the power of the atom. You could probably think of a way to obliterate her entire army from a distance if you were willing to unleash enough energy.”
“I don’t think I could control that kind of energy release. At least not at a safe distance.”
“And if you thought you could save thousands of lives by doing it from an unsafe distance, you wouldn’t be tempted?” Dallen asked.
Tiberius acknowledged the temptation with slight tip of his head.
“You may not even have thought of these things yet. But the day will come when you have to ask yourself are you really helping others or just trying to play God. It’s a fine line sometimes,” Dallen reflected. “You’ll be most effective by helping others. Remember that.
“Well that’s enough rambling from an old man for now,” Dallen continued. “Off you go then; don’t worry about her spies, at least at this end of the countryside.”
Tiberius took his leave of Dallen, but he had one last task to perform. He next rode up to the old family home. It was dark on the street but at least Tiberius knew where to knock. He got off his horse and went up to the old door, knocking loudly. At least he knew his father was a light sleeper.
After a moment his father peeked out from behind the door.
“What is it?
“It’s me, Father,” Tiberius said.
“Ti!” He heard his mother shout in surprise. A moment later she threw open the door and put her arms around him. “Tiberius! This is a surprise! My word, you’re looking thin; don’t they feed you?” she asked.
“What are you doing here at this time of night?” Julian asked, businesslike.
“Are you staying long?” Greta asked.
“I can’t, Mother. Father, I’m here on official business. This is a dispatch from Colonel Brandon.”
Julian took the note, slightly surprised. His brow narrowed as he scanned the contents.
“The queen’s attacking? How good is your intelligence?” he asked.
“Fairly reliable. We’ve had numerous sources, including my own efforts.”
“I hope you aren’t risking the entire western army on some cockamamie vision you’ve had through Dallen’s meddling,” he said.
Tiberius shot him a look. “It wasn’t a vision. I did read the mind of a goblin captain but that intelligence is confirmed through other sources.”
Julian looked hard at his son for a long moment. Then at last he grunted. “Lychester’s the logical target then. We’ll do what we can here. I’ll try and talk to Colonel Brice.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll be off then.”
“So soon,” Gretel protested.
Tiberius gave his mother another hug and a peck on the cheek. “I’ll come visit when I can, Mother. There are lives at stake now. I’ve got to be in Walsingham with Lord Brandon in a couple of hours.”
“Walsingham?” his mother said in sleepy surprise. “But that’s days away … oh.”
“Godspeed, then,” his father said. “Don’t be hanging about.”
“No, sir.” Saluting his father, he got back on his horse and rode on to Fort Marion.
Lord Brandon was waiting when he got back.
“How did it go?” Tiberius asked. It looked quiet about the fort.
Lord Brandon looked grim. “He said he’d think about it. We can count on him for a show of force at least. As to the rest of the plan…. How did it go at your end?”
“General Fuller will have the Sherwood Militia ready, if needed. He said he’d talk to Colonel Brice too. Dallen will make sure the queen’s spies can’t see what moves the army makes here. At least not her magical ones.”
“Well we’ll have to trust to Providence and the local constabulary for the rest. For now we’d better get on to Walsingham.”
Once more they were off, this time running behind the great wooden wall that stretched over fifty miles from there to Walsingham. The “Wall” was a series of watch towers and small keeps connected by a wooden wall. On the border's side there was a ditch and behind the wall was a good paved road. Messengers weren’t uncommon, though they weren’t usually as fast as Tiberius and Lord Brandon were running. They passed post horse stations along the way, where ordinarily messengers or the stagecoach would change horses. Before long they could see the lights of Walsingham, a beautiful low city surrounded by high stone walls, surrounded by the Svanvag River.
Walsingham was the home of the Third Calvary. In the cool evening air, Lord Stephan, the chief captain of the Third, rode along the torchlit training track. With expert precision, he drew his saber and charged along the course where melons had been placed on top of sticks. Without missing a beat, his saber slashed each melon neatly in two.
Finishing his run, he was greeted by his friend Sir Gregory, a large Moore whose huge white grin peered out from his dark skin.
“Bravo, Mon Capitan. Expecting a night action?”
Stephan dismounted and glared at Gregory. “When else can I get hold of the training course? Damn all this paperwork to hell; when are we going to see some action? I'm tired of rotting melons being the only thing I use my sword on,” he grumbled.
“At least if we're ever attacked by stick men with rotting melons stuck on their heads, we're ready,” Sir Gregory said with a smile. “Careful what you wish for, though.”
Stephan stopped, turned, and looked carefully at Gregory. “What is it?”
“Lord Brandon's here. Something's up.”
“Brandon?” Stephan frowned. He followed Gregory to the office where he found Lord Brandon seated and waiting for him.
“Where is your Commander?” Brandon asked. “I need to talk to the Commander of the 26th Infantry as well.”
“Then you are out of luck,” Stephen laughed. He was a young good looking man, but there was a certain arrogance in his eyes. “They’re in Port Elizabeth. I think they will be back in a week or so. I’m the acting commander of the Third. Something I can help you with, Lord Brandon? As you know the Third Cavalry is ever a force ready for battle.”
“Yes I’ve heard you’re ambitious, Captain Stephan. Well, luck is with you this day; I’ve got a fight for you. The goblins are on the move. If we can get the army to Lychester by October 30th, we can trap them and deal a major blow to the forces of shadow in the border country. It’s not far for cavalry, but you’ll need to approach quietly though the hills. We have gnomes who are friendly and will show you the best paths, if you think you can handle it. I understand if you don’t want to act with
your commander away. We can just bring the infantry up the road and scare off the goblins.”
Stephan just stared back at him. “So you’re suggesting that I leave the City of Walsingham practically defenseless in order to make some unlikely effort to trap the queen’s army outside of her lair? And you want me to do this guided by some aboriginal creatures you’ve discovered?”
Lord Brandon hesitated. “Something like that. I realize it’s a gamble.”
Stephan laughed again. “That’s putting it mildly. I’d be ordering two legions into battle on my authority with a rather dubious prospect of success. You realize that’s the type of move that could make or break a career.”
“I thought you were a gambler, Stephan,” Lord Brandon replied.
Stephan smiled back at him. “If the stakes are high enough, M’Lord. Let me knock up the acting commander of the 26th. I’m sure we’ll want to try and do something.”
A short time later, Brandon met Tiberius again by the horses. Tiberius asked how it went.
Lord Brandon gave a shrug of his shoulders. “Bureaucrats. It would all be so simple if I was actually in charge of things. I’m the highest ranking officer, technically, but I don’t actually have the authority to order other unit commanders off their posts without express orders from the Senate. I’d ride with you to the Capital, but I know the Senate won’t give any sort of orders without at least a week’s debate. I don’t know that it helps anything that I’ve got three days seniority on Colonel Brice. What’s in it for him, after all? What’s in it for any of them? If we win, it’s my victory. If we lose, either they are dead or they left their posts to participate in a glorious defeat. Not good for them either way.”
“So we’ve made this trip for nothing?” Tiberius said, discouraged.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, exactly. We had to ask. In any event, we still have to get our own forces in place. We might just be able to do it on our own.”
“At the Battle of Agincourt, the English won a great victory with only a few thousand archers and a handfull of men at arms. That’s about the situation facing us. If we can find the right ground and deploy properly, we might not even need any help in defeating the queen’s army. For now, we’d better get back. We’ve at least got to get our men at arms and the militia ready if we’re going to have any chance.”
Path of the Magi (Tales of Tiberius) Page 33