Sword of the Crown

by Paul J Bennett

  * * *

  Beverly led the cavalry from Kingsford just as the sun was coming up. Princess Anna had left with them; she would catch up to the guard once they were underway. They were clear of the city by the time the morning mist was burned off. It looked like it would be a warm day, the sun was out, with very few clouds visible. As they rode along Beverly caught sight of Tempus, the sturdy dog seeming full of energy, bounding ahead, only to lie in the sun and wait for the troops to catch up. By noon her contingent had met up with the main group of infantry. They had stopped by a stream to water themselves and to refill their canteens. Beverly rested the horses while she escorted Anna to her guards. Captain Arnim had a dour expression on his face, apparently not pleased at being ordered to march without his charge, but he didn’t complain. The guard soon took up their positions around the princess to keep her from harm.

  Beverly, seeing Gerald, rode over to speak to him. The footmen had kept up a brisk pace and more than a few of them, after filling their canteens, chose to take off their boots and dip their feet in the stream. Gerald stood watching them with a trained eye.

  “How was the march?” she enquired, as she approached.

  He turned to look in her direction. “Good, we set a decent pace. Glad to know my legs still work. I thought after marching to Kingsford I might have worn them out.”

  “They look to be in fine form,” she said and watched him blush. It was too easy to tease the man, he was humble to a fault.

  “How is the cavalry?” he asked, changing the subject.

  “Better than I expected; we lost almost half in the battle, so the two companies were merged, with not too many left behind.”

  “You should have just brought all of them; a few extra men would have been useful.”

  “I thought of that, but we lost too many horses. As it is, the remainder will be serving as footmen in Kingsford until they can train replacements. How far do you reckon we’ve come?”

  “Probably close to ten miles already,” he said, “though I suspect they’ll slow down a bit this afternoon. With luck, we’ll be able to make twenty miles today, mainly because we won’t have to set up and cook dinner.”

  Beverly rummaged around in her pack and brought out the salted fish. It looked like a piece of bark and gave off a rather pungent odour. She broke it in half and handed some to Gerald. “I hope this stuff tastes better than it smells,” she said. She took a bite and made a face; it reminded her of her father's stinky cheese.

  Gerald laughed and then took a large bite of his own, “You should get used to army food, I suspect they’ll be lots of it in our future.”

  Beverly wanted to spit it out, but took courage from Gerald's example; the man could eat anything. She chewed it until it felt like paper in her mouth and then used a long drink of water to wash it down.

  “Don’ worry,” said Gerald, “you’ll adjust to it over time, though I have to say I miss the old days back in Bodden. Your father always made sure we had decent food.”

  “Yes,” said Beverly, “I only hope we’ll get there in time to help him.”

  “Oh, we will,” said Gerald, “you forget, I’ve been there during a siege. It would take a lot to breach the walls of Bodden.”

  “Didn’t the northerners breach the wall when you were younger?” she reminded him.

  “Yes, but your father’s improved the wall since then, not to mention the ditches he’s built around the Keep. I imagine he’s up in his map room surveying the enemy force right now.”

  “I can imagine,” remembered Beverly. “He always did like the view from up there. How many enemy soldiers do you think surround Bodden?”

  “I suspect rather a large number, or your father would sally out and make short work of them. I would think there might be, say, two thousand?”

  “Why so many?” she asked.

  “Anything less and they wouldn’t be able to encircle the Keep. They’re probably trying to keep him bottled up, so his troops can’t be put to use. They must know he has knights and no one wants those unleashed on their soldiers.”

  Gerald was right. The heavy armour of the knights made them almost impervious to bows, save for the Elven type. It made her think of their new allies. “I haven’t seen Lord Greycloak yet today, have you?”

  “Oh aye, I saw them earlier this morning. They left before we did. Those beggars move fast; I bet they’re halfway to Bodden by now.”

  Beverly frowned, “Halfway? Really?”

  “No, of course not, but they must be a mile or two up the road. They march in thin lines instead of a column, and they move very fast. I’m glad they’re on our side.”

  Beverly choked down the rest of the fish and refilled her canteen. “Well, we’ve got more marching to do, old man, I’d best be on my way. I’ll see you later when we make camp.”

  “Of course,” he replied, “I’ll have dinner waiting for you, something special.”

  “Special? You’ve peaked my interest.

  “Yes, salted fish, followed by a dessert of salted fish. Not only that but if you’re lucky, you can have salted fish for breakfast.”

  “You’re enjoying this far too much!”

  “Yes. Yes, I am,” he grinned.

  Thirty-Three

  Bodden

  Spring 960 MC

  The push to Bodden was the most arduous march that Gerald or Beverly had ever participated in. The nearly non-existent road was often washed out or was so covered with debris that they had to bypass it. Luckily, the streams that ran off the Margel Hills provided plenty of fresh water. Despite the sorry state of the roads, the army made good progress, and within a week they had reached the northern road that ran west toward Bodden and east toward Tewsbury. Off to the north was the looming shadow of the Whitewood, named for the birch trees that were found there in abundance. This was the road that Beverly had taken when she left Bodden all those years ago, and as she thought back, she remembered her encounter with Albreda.

  She realized with a start that events had unfolded just as the druid had predicted, for once again, Bodden was under siege. What was it she had said? Call to the woods, and she would fulfill her vow. Her heart raced, might this be the answer they needed? She left her men under the sergeant’s care and rode off in the direction of the woods. If she found Albreda, they might stand a chance.

  She paralleled the army's advance, riding along the edge of the woods, keeping the troops in sight. She called out Albreda's name several times but had no idea where the White Witch might be. Finally, as the sun started to go down, she resolved to re-join the army. She turned from the woods and spotted a hawk circling in the air. She stopped and watched as the bird flew toward her, settling on the branch of a nearby tree. Beverly dismounted and walked toward it, leaving Lightning standing nearby. Sure enough, eyes stared out of the woods at her, and a group of wolves emerged from the trees to encircle her. This time she stood still and remained calm. A moment later the Lady of the Woods appeared out of the shadows, wearing the same green and brown dress.

  “Greetings, Beverly Fitzwilliam,” she said.

  Beverly bowed, “Lady Albreda, you honour me with your presence.”

  Albreda laughed, the sound was like ripples on a lake. “I am no lady, Beverly, though I am flattered you address me so.”

  “Still,” Beverly persisted, “you are a woman of considerable power and deserving of respect.”

  She bowed her head slightly, “I am glad you think so,” she said finally. “I assume you have come to ask for my help.”

  “Yes, you once told me that when Bodden was in danger, I should come to you.”

  “I have been expecting you,” the woman said. “I have much to share, but first you must tell you who you travel with, for despite my powers, I did not foresee this eventuality.”

  It took some time to relate the story, and Albreda listened patiently. She appeared both surprised and intrigued at the mention of the princess. Beverly told of the trip to the Elves, the journey to Kin
gsford, the battle, and the recent march to Bodden. The mage took it all in, asking for details at various points. Soon, her tale told, Beverly halted.

  “You must take me to your princess, Beverly Fitzwilliam, and I will inform her how I might help.”

  Beverly led her to Lightning, but she declined to ride, instead walking beside the great horse, a lone wolf following them closely.

  As they neared the camp, the sentinels raised the alarm, but at the sight of Beverly, they relaxed. Even so, there were wary eyes that watched as the strange woman and the overgrown wolf accompanied her to the princess’s campfire.

  Anna was sitting on a log, absently stroking Tempus’ head when they approached. The other leaders were present reporting on their progress for the day. Tempus barked once and sat up, and suddenly all eyes turned towards the new arrivals.

  “Who have you brought to see us, Dame Beverly?” asked the princess.

  She handed off the reigns of Lightning to a cavalryman and stepped forward, bowing. “This is the Lady Albreda, Mistress of the Whitewood, Your Highness. She is here to help us.”

  There was a murmur from the others; this was news indeed!

  Anna beckoned her forward, and Albreda strode toward the fire. The large wolf followed behind, sitting on his haunches by her side.

  “Greetings, Your Highness,” said the witch, “I have come to repay an old debt to the Fitzwilliams.”

  “Indeed? And how, may I ask,” said the princess, “is this debt to be repaid?”

  “I have news of Bodden, Highness,” the woman explained. “It is surrounded by some two thousand invading troops who have dug in.”

  A look of consternation crossed the face of some of the commanders present.

  “It is worse than we thought,” said Arnim grimly. “We have no hope of defeating that many.”

  “Nonsense, Captain,” said Gerald, “it’s precisely what we expected.”

  Albreda turned to Beverly, “Do you know the large elm tree that sits to the east of Bodden, where the road turns?”

  “Yes, I’ve ridden past it many times, why?”

  “Choose your attack force, Your Highness, and have them prepare to march. Form them up to the east of The Elm, ready to move on Bodden. They must be in place the morning after tomorrow. With the rising of the dawn’s mist, you shall hear a thunderous noise, do not panic. Also, tell your men not to hunt near these woods, nor take the life of any animal that dwells there.”

  “When shall they march?” asked Anna.

  “You will know when the time is right,” she replied cryptically, “but do not act until then.”

  “And you will help us defeat the invaders?” implied the princess.

  “I owe a lot to the Fitzwilliams,” said Albreda, “and I am a woman of my word. You must succeed in this, for there is more to accomplish. There are powers at work that threaten the world as we know it.”

  Albreda moved to return to the woods, then turned back. “Now I must go, for I have much to prepare. Remember, the morning after tomorrow, near the great elm.” She walked away, leaving the group in silence, the wolf following her. Beverly thought it best to escort her back through the sentries.

  They walked past the guards, to the waiting circle of wolves. As she drew closer to them, Albreda spoke, “Will your friends follow through?”

  “I hope so, Your Grace,” said Beverly, “but I fear they may not understand what is to happen.”

  Albreda stopped suddenly and turned to face her, “Then you must convince them. It is vitally important.”

  “I’m not sure I can, I am but one of many,” replied Beverly.

  “Your words carry more weight than you realize. If you believe, then so will they. Do you doubt my abilities?”

  Beverly thought for a moment. She had no proof of Albreda’s powers, yet her father had believed her despite the trouble with her uncle. She trusted her father without reservation; she must trust this woman the same way. “I trust you completely,” she said at last.

  “Good, then talk to your people, convince them that I can help. I will carry out my part regardless, but if you are not there to take advantage of what I offer, the opportunity will slip away.”

  “I will heed your words, Your Grace.”

  Albreda smiled. “Good, that’s all I ask, now stop calling me 'Your Grace' and just call me Albreda.”

  Beverly smiled, the White Witch putting her at ease, “Yes, Albreda.”

  “I shall see you the morning after tomorrow,” she said, as she walked into the woods. One moment she was there, and then suddenly she seemed to blend into the foliage and was gone.

  Beverly returned to the camp to find a vigorous discussion in progress.

  “We know nothing about this woman,” Arnim was saying. “How can we trust her? It might be a trap.”

  “A valid point,” Anna confirmed. “Lord Greycloak, you’ve been silent. What are your thoughts?”

  The Elf had been staring into the fire, and now turned his eyes up to look at the princess. “I cannot speak on behalf of this Albreda, for I have never heard of her. She appears to be a mage of some sort; perhaps Master Revi can shed some light on her?”

  “I’ve never met her,” said Revi in response, “but I’ve heard her name. She’s an Earth Mage.”

  “What does that mean exactly?” asked Arnim warily.

  “It means she has learned the way of the living world. She can likely manipulate animals and plants or move earth. I’ve heard her described as a druid, which usually means talking to animals.”

  “She did say that no animals were to be harmed,” piped in Gerald.

  “Yes,” said Revi, “that supports my argument.”

  Gerald looked at Anna, and something passed between them, a look. Beverly knew they were hiding something but didn’t press for details.

  “What do you favour, Highness?” prompted Gerald.

  “I say we follow Albreda’s request; I have some experience with her.”

  The assembled group looked stunned, and even Beverly was shocked into silence.

  “The truth is,” said Anna, “I’ve been in correspondence with Albreda for a few years. Her name was given to me by Andronicus when we were investigating the existence of Lily. I trust her completely. Beverly, do you feel the same about her?”

  “Yes, Your Highness, she has always lived in peace with my father’s barony.”

  “Good, then I thank all of you for your input, but I’ve made my decision. We’ll have the men form up to the east of the Elm the morning after tomorrow. Dame Beverly will show the men exactly where that is. Gerald, I’ll have you see to the troops. You will have to decide how to line them up. Beverly, you’ll lead the cavalry into battle when you deem it best.”

  “What are the orders for the troops, Your Highness,” asked Arnim.

  “Why, to do what they always do, follow their leader's orders.”

  “And what are the leader's orders?” he prompted.

  “To use their initiative. We don’t know for certain what will transpire; you’ll need to improvise.”

  Eyes went wild; it was not a typical command a soldier would expect from their leader.

  “You’ll have to tell your men to be prepared and remember, no hunting. No animals are to be harmed, or we risk losing everything.”

  The group began to break up, returning to their commands. The princess gave some final directions to Gerald and then settled down on a blanket beside her dog for some sleep.

  Gerald issued orders to some nearby soldiers, then returned to the fire, warming his hands, for the night was turning colder.

  “What do you make of it?” he asked Beverly.

  “Improvise? I like it,” she replied.

  “I thought you might, we’ve been improvising in Bodden for years, but I doubt these city folk have any idea what that means.”

  “The princess surprised me. She knew all along whom Albreda was, but didn’t say anything,” she challenged.

  Gerald grin
ned, “Aye, that’s true enough. She’s learned a valuable lesson. She listens to everyone before she makes a decision. If she’d said that at the beginning, she’d have gotten no suggestions from anyone.”

  “Did you teach her that?”

  “No, but I’ve noticed that she loves to plan things. She’ll be thinking this thing over all day tomorrow. I expect by tomorrow night she’ll have additional orders for us. That reminds me, I’ll need some of your men tonight, those you can trust.”

  “What for?”

  “We need to make sure no one sneaks out of camp to hunt; it would be bad to anger the White Witch.”

  “I’ll take care of it myself,” said Beverly, “you get some sleep, you’re not as young as you used to be, old man.”

  Gerald made a face and was about to complain until he saw the grin on Beverly’s face. “Very funny,” he said as he left.

  * * *

  The troops were lined up behind the Giant Elm tree before dawn. It had been difficult, moving them in the dark. They had lined the way with torches, but even so, constant supervision was required to get the men into position. Bodden was out of sight, just beyond a slight rise and sentinels had kept a watchful eye on the town all night long. Beverly had arraigned the cavalry in front, followed by the companies of foot. The Elves had placed their troops to either side, careful not to let any past The Elm tree.

  The early morning mist didn’t help settle the nerves of the soldiers, nor the leaders for that matter. Everyone was restless; no one knew what to expect.

  It started in the distance, a low rumble that rapidly grew in volume. Beverly didn’t recognize the sound at first, but as it drew closer, it reminded her of the noise that cavalry made when it was charging. It grew in intensity, along with the nervousness of the horses. Behind her, she heard Gerald’s clear voice shouting at the men to hold their position. The fog was still thick and, while the sun was just starting to rise, the darkness of the night was gradually being replaced by the white of the fog as the noise grew to a tremendous roar. Beverly strained her eyes and soon saw dark shadows in the fog. Whatever it was, it was approaching The Elm, and it looked like it would run directly past them.