by Jason Malone
“Eleven nineteen,” I yelled back.
Emrys nodded. “I have been entombed for three centuries,” he yelled. I noticed a flash of anger appear on his otherwise emotionless face.
“What will you do?”
“Take what is mine. We will meet again, Edward, Heir of Godwin. I am in your debt.”
Before I could reply, Emrys’s horse leaped over me, and he galloped away with his riders, who were now rushing into the tunnel to ride down any who had escaped. The screams were still going, and I knew they would haunt my dreams for years to come. These were not merely the cries of dying men, but those of men who knew absolute fear and desperation.
I helped Clodild sit up and hugged her tight, holding her for what seemed like hours as hundreds of avenging immortal horsemen rode from their prison and out into the world once more. I held Clodild while Dughlas and Philip crouched beside me until the last of the horsemen went through the tunnel and the trembling roar of hooves ceased.
We were now alone in the cold, quiet dark.
I had lost.
14
War
Once it was clear that Emrys and his horde were gone, the four of us made our way back up through the tunnel in the dark. Clodild had stopped crying now and was silent. I carried her on my back.
I had taken my sword back from Hakon and thought about killing him with it, but I felt disgusted by his miserable state so I spared him the dignity of death. We could hear his muffled sobs echoing up from the chamber where Emrys had humiliated him and slaughtered his men. The stench of death was intense, but it lessened the farther up the passage we went.
The sun was setting when we left the fort, and the mountains cast a long shadow over us. The lifeless bodies of Hakon’s men lay all over the fort’s courtyard and walls, and some were scattered along the mountain pass. Emrys had killed them all. We found our horses tied up in the fort’s courtyard, so we mounted and rode through the night with haste to Tillysburg.
Dughlas was badly hurt and still seemed a little dizzy, but he assured me he could ride, so he and Philip shared a saddle while I rode with Clodild, her arms wrapped tight around me.
We followed the tracks left behind by the Immortal Horde, but they seemed to have unnatural speed and were far ahead of us. I could only hope that Carol had remained in Tillysburg as he had planned, rather than march west to meet Stephan.
The journey south was much easier and much faster than the journey north. Brand moved fast downhill this time. He was a little more enthusiastic about this journey than that of the day before.
We rode in the light of the full moon, which marked the festival of Middlespring. In gentler times, folk would be gathered together for feasting and merriment, but Fate had other plans for us on this day.
We only stopped twice to let the horses rest and drink. The first time, Brand was drinking from a stream while I washed Dughlas’s blood from my hands.
“Hello,” Clodild said. This was the first time I had heard her speak. I turned to see her standing behind me, wrapped in a fur cloak we found in the fortress.
“My Lady,” I said.
“Who are you? Why did you save me?”
“My name is Edward of Oldford. Your brother sent me to rescue you.”
“Are you the man who talks to elves?”
I grinned. “I am. I’m a Godspeaker.”
“Wow.”
“I heard it was your name day just recently. How old are you, My Lady?”
“I am nine, I think. What about you?”
“I’m about twenty.”
“Wow, that is old. Thank you for saving me, Lord Edward.” Clodild wrapped her arms around my neck and hugged me.
“Do I get a hug too, Lord Edward?” Philip asked with a smirk. He had come to stand by me with Dughlas, whose face was now cleaned of blood but was badly bruised. His nose was broken and a tooth was missing.
“I see you lost none of your cheek while Hakon held you captive.” I grinned. “It is good to see you again, lad. I am sorry for what happened.”
“That is all right. It was an adventure, and you came to find me in the end.”
“I swear to you, it won’t happen again. Are you ready to keep going?” I said. Philip nodded.
“Aye, we should hurry. Tilly and Tillysburg are in danger,” Dughlas said.
I agreed, and so we mounted our horses and sped south.
We stopped to rest again a couple of hours before dawn, and that was when we discovered we were too late. Off in the distance, coming towards us up the dirt path, was a long line of about three hundred people.
We first spotted their torches, but then we could see the people themselves. They were in a hurry, and I could tell immediately that they were refugees. They must have come from Tillysburg, which meant Emrys had stopped to attack the town, as I had feared. They would not have needed to besiege it, because the decrepit state of Tillysburg’s walls would mean they could just pour right through into the streets.
I paused to watch them and then kicked the horse and sped off downhill to meet the line.
“Halt!” the man at the head of the column shouted as we approached. It was Arne. His sword was drawn, his armour broken and bloodied, and he looked like a mess.
I pulled Brand to a stop and threw myself down from him, holding my hands up. “It’s me. Edward.”
Arne sheathed his sword. “What news from the fort?”
“The men who captured it are all dead, slaughtered by the warlord Emrys and his band. I could not stop them.” I bent over and put my hands on my knees, panting. Clodild stayed in the saddle.
“The Emrys? From the legends? Gods…” Arne shook his head.
“Where are you all going?”
“East. There is an ancient, abandoned fort some days that way, called Giant’s Rest by the locals. Tillysburg is in flames. Hundreds of horsemen just attacked out of nowhere.”
“That was Emrys and his men. Where is Carol?”
“He marched west yesterday with Earl Roger and left me in charge of the city’s defence.”
“Then I need to warn him. Is Matilda—”
Arne opened his mouth to speak, but before he said anything, a woman called my name. Running towards me along the line, holding her dress up to her knees, was Matilda. I breathed a sigh of relief to know she was alive, and it felt as though a weight I did not know was there had been lifted from my shoulders. She was smiling, though her hair was messy, her dress was torn, and her legs were covered in mud. But she was alive. She threw herself into my arms.
“You kept your promise,” Matilda said.
“I must go again, Matilda. Carol is marching to war, and I need to warn him of the danger he truly faces.”
Matilda’s smile turned into a frown. She nodded. “I see you rescued Philip and Carol’s sister.”
“Yes, but I could not stop Hakon. I was a fool, Matilda. It is all my fault.”
“No. You saved two lives today. You did what you felt needed to be done.”
“But how many more will die?”
Matilda shook her head. “You cannot save everybody. One day, I will tell my children of this story, and they will know Edward Godspeaker as a hero.”
Before I could respond, Clodild climbed down from my horse and came to stand beside me. She put her hand in mine, then Arne went to his knee.
“Princess Clodild, I thank all the Gods that you are alive,” he said.
Clodild nodded. “The elf-friend saved me. Can he be my housecarl?”
“You will have to ask your brother, My Lady, once he meets us at Giant’s Rest. Come, we must go now.”
Clodild looked up at me as if for approval, and I nodded. She hugged me again and then went and took Arne’s hand. He helped her up onto his horse, and she gave me a wave. I waved back.
“Dughlas, Philip,” I said. “Go with the refugees to Giant’s Rest. Neither of you will be any help in the battle to come, but should this old fortress need defending, they will need every able man
and woman.”
“Aye, Boss. I’d wish you luck, but you probably don’t need it,” Dughlas said. He flashed a smile and gave what must have been a wink.
“Arne, look after them. Farewell,” I said. Arne nodded, and I could tell he was eager to get his column moving again. Dughlas and Philip rode to join Clodild among the refugees, and I walked back to Brand alone.
I put my boot in the stirrup, grabbed the saddle, and just as I was about to pull myself up, Matilda called my name again and came running over to me. Arne tipped his head back in frustration, and I put my foot back down and turned to her.
“What is it?” I asked.
Without saying a word, she put my head in both her hands, stood up on her toes, and pressed her lips against mine. I did not know what to do or how to feel, so I just put my hands on her waist and kissed her back.
It seemed to last forever, though it only lasted a few seconds. Her lips tasted like soot and ash, but no kiss had ever before been sweeter. Matilda pulled away, and I stared into her beautiful blue eyes. She was teary, but she smiled and blushed.
“That was for luck,” she said. Matilda took my hand and put something cold in my palm, then closed my fingers around it. “And this is so you remember to come back. No goodbyes. Now go and fulfil your oath, Edward of Winterhome.”
And at that she turned away and joined the column again. Arne gave a command, and the refugees resumed their march.
I pulled myself up onto Brand and caught one last glimpse of Matilda watching me as the column marched eastwards. I sat gazing on them for a while, wondering if I would ever see her again, then turned Brand back south. I opened my fist and saw what Matilda had given me.
It was a thin silver chain, and attached to that chain was a little pendant in the shape of a moth.
I smelt it before I saw it. Burning. Burning wood and burning corpses. The sun was still below the horizon, but as dawn approached, and as I rode closer to Tillysburg, I could see a thick black cloud rising over the hills.
But the horror truly struck me when the town came into view. At first it was a glow on the horizon, but as the town appeared over the hills, I saw the flames and the burning buildings. The town hall’s bell tower stood gasping for air, drowning in a sea of flames. Roofs had collapsed and walls had tumbled down onto the streets. The keep and the temple — the two buildings made of stone — were the only ones spared.
As I neared Tillysburg I could hear screams and moans, the shrieking of horses, and the laughter of greedy men. But what struck me most was not the flames. It was not the screams or the killing or the terror. What made my blood run cold was that I had seen this before in the vision I had received during Winterlow. The Gods’ prophecy had come true, yet only now did I understand. Now, when it was all too late. I had recognised Tillysburg when I first arrived, but I could not figure out where I had seen it until that moment.
Several large wagons piled high with chests were being dragged by horses from a great wound in the town’s wall, led by some of Emrys’s men. This would have been their plunder, but what a horde of immortal horsemen needed wealth for, I could only guess.
They also led a long line of people from the gates. Many of them were women and children, but there were some men. The wagons and the prisoners were being led south, and as I approached along the northern road, three horsemen veered away from the group and rode towards me.
I drew my sword. The horsemen came to a halt a few yards away. One of the horsemen, a man on a grey horse, came forward. He wore an elaborate gilded helmet with a horrifying faceplate depicting a snarling wolf. His face was hidden, but his long grey beard and the puppy in his saddle revealed his identity.
“Emrys,” I said.
“Edward,” he said. Emrys removed his helmet and scratched his dog behind the ear. He was grinning at me.
“What have you done?” I spoke in his language.
“I have pillaged this town. I need wealth, and we cannot exactly earn it honestly,” he replied. His voice betrayed little emotion. The two warriors he brought with him chuckled, but he silenced them with a hiss. “Have you come to collect your share of the plunder?”
“No, I have come to find my friends.”
“Ah, your friends. How charming. I apologise, but your friends are likely slaves now. Or dead.”
“What is that for?” I asked, pointing to his dog. I spoke in my language this time, and I noticed it made Emrys wince.
“My men and I cannot touch the ground until this little dog jumps from my saddle, lest all the years we have lived pass us by in a single moment,” Emrys explained. So the legends were true. Emrys was cursed, and it seemed the puppy was the only way to save him.
“Then why do you need to raid and pillage this land?” I asked.
“Because I can also break this curse if I once again wear the crown of my ancestors. And thus, I go to war against this man who calls himself ‘Stephan’ and join forces with Odo of the letter.”
And that was where I spotted Odo’s first mistake. In the legends, whenever Emrys emerged he had subsequently gone to war with whomever the king was at the time, and so Odo must have taken this to mean that Emrys desired the kingdom of Ardonn.
But now it became clear to me. Emrys cared little for the kingdom. All he wanted was the crown, and he had fought the kings for that crown. In ancient times, that crown had symbolised the king’s divinity and his right to rule, but that meaning had been forgotten to all but a few, Odo included.
Emrys would lead his horde to destroy Stephan, and Odo would betray his king, but what they did not realise was that when Stephan’s father usurped the throne and became Ardonn’s ruler, he had a new crown forged with gold and fur and gemstones.
The crown of the ancients, the crown Emrys desired, was made from simple iron and decorated with a single piece of amber, and it sat atop the head of Carol the Pretender. I chose to withhold that last piece of information from Emrys.
“That crown was destroyed when Stephan’s father took the throne. Only the dog can free you from you curse,” I said. “I beg you, Emrys. Do not ride west. You will be fighting for nothing. Stay here, and I will see if I can help you.”
I saw Emrys think for a moment, considering my offer, and then he smiled. “I appreciate your concern, Heir of Godwin, but I do not trust you. I shall defeat this army for Odo, and if the crown of this false king does not free me from the chains of this curse, I will retreat to the woods and await your aid. But tell me, why are you so concerned with where I march?”
“Because my friend leads an army against Stephan and Odo.”
“Ah, yes. The folk of this town have spoken of this Carol fellow. My descendant, I have heard.”
“Yes, he is.”
“He desires my crown. I shall slaughter him with all the rest.”
“But he will not expect you,” I replied, hoping to trigger some sense of honour. I was anxious now, and Emrys could tell.
“Then you had better go and warn him,” Emrys said. He grinned at me and then pulled something from inside his big grey cloak. It was a leather pouch, and he tossed it to me. “This is for freeing me from that accursed tomb.”
I caught the pouch and was surprised by its weight. Emrys bowed his head, he and his companions turned their horses, and they rode off to join the rest of his men in the burning town.
I opened the pouch and saw it was filled to the brim with gold coins. They were minted during Stephan’s reign, so they must have been taken from Tillysburg that night. I tossed it away, throwing it as far as I could, then sped off westwards.
I had to reach Carol before Emrys did, or all would be lost.
A few miles west of Tillysburg was the battlefield where the Pretender had chosen to make a stand against Stephan. I heard the two armies as I approached: the sound of horns, the beating of drums and feet, and the yelling of men giving and receiving orders. I climbed to the top of a ridge that ran from north to south, and from there I had a view of the entire field. I did
not know much about military strategy, but I could tell the moment I arrived that Carol had chosen well.
The ground Carol had chosen was a flat plain stretching for many miles to the south and west, but in the north the plain began to incline and grow into a hill. The hill stretched along the northern edge of the plain for about a mile or so. Westwards, the hill began to veer north, and eastwards it connected to the ridge I was sitting atop, which guarded the eastern edge of the plain and would have been far too steep for an army to climb without sustaining severe casualties.
Carol had positioned his army atop that northern hill, facing south, so that if Stephan wished to attack him he would need to either climb that hill and attack from the west or south or climb the ridge and then turn and attack from the east. It would have been impossible to go around the back, since Carol was guarded by the mountains to the north.
Stephan, seeing no other option, positioned his army at the bottom of the incline. I could see then that Stephan, combined with Odo’s army, led a force that outnumbered Carol’s nearly three to one.
The armies faced each other, taunting and yelling, inciting the other to attack. Stephan did not want to suffer the penalty of attacking uphill, but Carol did not want to leave his position of safety atop it. However, the positions of both sides would not matter if Emrys charged his horde from the east and attacked the flanks of both armies.
Based on his letter, Odo seemed to think Carol would hide behind Tillysburg’s walls so he could be dealt with later, yet I doubted the Pretender’s presence on this battlefield would make little difference when faced with Emrys’s horde.
I suspected that Odo was now hoping Emrys would join the battle once the two forces had engaged so that Odo could turn and attack from the west, and Emrys would attack from the east, outflanking both Stephan and Carol and decimating both forces. The art of warfare was not in numbers, but in outsmarting and outmanoeuvring your enemies.
I turned Brand and hastened north along the ridge, then headed west along the hillside. Ahead I could see the long shadows of the ridge behind me stretching across the battlefield, and light touched the treetops in the distance. I could feel the sun begin to warm my back. Dawn was here, and the sun was beginning to rise. A party of warriors rode out from Carol’s army to meet me. They recognised me and escorted me to Carol.