The Hordes of Chanakra (Knights of Aerioch)

by David L Burkhead

  "But it is still retreat." Bryon shook his head.

  "We move on the morrow?" Kaila asked.

  "Nay," Marek stood up straight. "We have marched long these past days and fought hard. It if proves that we are no longer beset by foes we will withdraw one mile and there rest. If we yet face foes, we will withdraw to the Black mountains. We risk being flanked to the north, but it seems me that the risk is slight. Once in the pass we will leave a rearguard and withdraw to rest."

  He turned and leaned in Kaila's direction, "And, Kaila, as soon as we have seen to the security of the heartland, we will bend all our effort to the reconquest of Zantor. I swear it."

  Kaila nodded but said nothing.

  #

  When Kreg woke the next morning, his right arm did not want to move. He was still trying to massage life into it when Kaila called him.

  Limping only slightly from his wound, Kreg strode over to where Kaila was staring out over the site of the previous day's battle.

  Corpses littered the battlefield. Few, Kreg guessed about one in twenty, were human. The rest were the bodies of animals, animals of every conceivable kind, ranging in size from chipmunks to oxen.

  "It is like we found in Schah," Kaila said. "With the rising of the sun, they regain their natural form."

  "Looks like we killed an awful lot," Kreg said.

  "Aye." Kaila indicated the troops who were preparing to move. "The King believes that few escaped the sword so we withdraw from this place of slaughter."

  "Best news I've heard yet."

  The army needed several hours to prepare to march. Comparatively, the single mile they withdrew took scarcely any time at all. They established a new camp and set out scouts and foraging parties.

  As they settled into the new camp, Kaila, Kreg, Bryon, and a young man who Kreg assumed was Bryon's squire, joined King Marek in his tent.

  Marek wore no armor. Instead, he wore flowing purple robes; on his brow set a gold circlet; about his waist he had belted a sword, not the sword he had worn to battle. This one had the hilts wrapped in gold wire and set with precious stones.

  In a loose semicircle behind the King stood the pages who had been his messengers the day before. Bertan smiled at Kreg.

  Suddenly, Kaila grabbed Kreg's right arm while Bryon snagged his left and they force-marched him to just beyond arm's reach from Marek.

  "Yesterday," Marek began slowly, "we fought a great battle. Our losses were light, but we mourn them nonetheless. On our enemies we did visit great destruction. For this victory, we must thank Kreg who came to us from another world and has taught us a manner of fighting never before seen." His voice boomed. "Kneel!"

  Kaila and Bryon's hands on Kreg's shoulders left him no choice but to comply.

  Marek drew his sword. Its blade gleamed, not with the silver of polished steel, but with the red-brown hue of bronze. "This sword was once worn by Móanek, the mightiest hero of legend, until he was struck down by treachery. When it was returned to me, I vowed that never more would it see battle. Instead, it has become my symbol, used in ceremony and to dispense justice."

  With the flat of the sword, he struck Kreg on both shoulders. "I dub thee Knight. Rise, Sir Kreg."

  Kreg, mouth agape, rose to his feet.

  Kaila clasped his forearm. "Welcome," she said. "Right glad am I to call you friend."

  "I don't know what to say." Kreg returned the grip. "Except, thank you."

  "The King does you great honor," Bryon said. "Few there are that he has knighted with his own hand."

  "I just hope I'm worthy of the honor," Kreg said.

  "Courage and honor and a keen mind will tell," Marek said. "You have done Aerioch a great service. How could I not do you service in return?"

  #

  Aside from small groups taking short shifts at sentry duty, the army rested. At Kreg's request, Kaila had hung a grain sack stuffed with grass from a tree branch. It would serve as a tilting dummy.

  "You've taught me to use a sword pretty well," Kreg said, "but I learned yesterday that I need to learn how to use a lance."

  "I have been told," Kaila checked the girths on her saddle, "that you acquitted yourself well."

  Kreg mounted his horse. "I dropped my lance and didn’t hit anything but the ground."

  Neither wore armor as Kreg's instruction was to be solely against the makeshift dummy. Later, he would use padded lances against live targets--much later.

  "Here, Sir Kreg," Bertan handed him his lance. Marek had relieved Bertan of duties that afternoon so that he could assist Kreg and Kaila.

  "Still honing for that position with Kaila?" Kreg whispered to him.

  Bertan grinned sheepishly.

  "Bertan!" Kaila vaulted into her saddle. "swing the dummy."

  Bertan ran to the dummy. He pulled it back and let go. The dummy swung back and forth on its tether.

  "Attend," Kaila said. She spurred her horse into a canter. She held her lance well forward along the shaft with the butt gripped under her right arm. Her left, she cocked as though holding a shield. The lance passed alongside the left side of the horse's neck. She swerved and spurred the horse to a gallop, straight at the dummy. The lance struck home.

  Kaila reigned in her horse. "Now you."

  Bertan stopped the spinning dummy and set it swinging again.

  Kreg rode at the dummy. The tip of his lance swayed as he tried to follow the dummy's movement. He ended by missing and striking the bole of the tree. The impact lifted Kreg from the saddle and deposited him on the ground.

  "Strike one," he said as he picked himself up and dusted himself off.

  "Seek not to follow the motion." Kaila rode over to him. "Watch. Feel what it will do. Then, at the last instant, aim your lance in one motion."

  Kreg tried again. His lance just nicked the dummy as his horse galloped past.

  "Strike two," he said.

  "Better," Kaila said. "You hold the lance too tightly. You must float the lance to the target, then, at the moment of impact, grip with all the strength in your body."

  Kreg tried yet again. This time he struck the dummy squarely.

  The impact caught him by surprise." Kreg reeled over backward, barely retaining his seat while the lance flew from his hand.

  Kaila sighed.

  #

  By the time evening approached, Kreg was hitting the dummy with some consistency, and retaining a solid seat almost as consistently. Finally, it grew too dark to continue.

  "Bertan," Kaila said after calling a halt. "Have you no duties this night?"

  "Aye, Lady," he said. "I have the watch, so if I may be excused?"

  She nodded.

  "He's a good kid," Kreg said.

  "Aye." She nodded again. "He is well ready to be chosen as squire."

  "He's hoping you'll take him for that," Kreg said.

  "It is not unknown to me," Kaila said. "And yet, I think I shall not take squire again until the war is won. The midst of battle is an ill place for one so young."

  "I understand." Kreg began unlacing the girth of his saddle.

  "Guards!" Bertan's voice rose in the distance. "To the King! Assassins!"

  Without word, Kreg dropped the girth, drew sword, and sprinted toward the King's tent. At his side, Kaila did the same.

  Kreg stepped aside to avoid a dark form that flew out of the doorway. With a ripping sound a black, shadowy figure tore through the roof of the tent. Something vaguely manlike, but twenty feet tall and wrapped in shadows of its own making, stood there. It carried something in one huge claw, something that struggled. With a shriek like a rusty hinge, it spread huge, bat-like wings and flapped into the air.

  "Archers!" Kaila shouted.

  "No!" Kreg grabbed Kaila's arm to restrain her. "It's got the King!"

  The tent was empty except for Dahren who stood staring at the gaping rent in the roof. Kreg found Bertan lying outside the tent, where he had landed. Deep gouges welled blood from his left arm and side.

  Kreg cl
amped on hand hard on the wound in Bertan’s arm and another on the one in his side, applying pressure in an effort to stop the bleeding. He heard Bertan moan softly as he shifted in unconsciousness. Bertan was alive at least.

  "You were saying-–“ Kreg looked up, his eyes meeting Kaila’s. "--that a battlefield was a bad place for boys."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  "Thus it happened," Kaila said. "King Marek is captive of some beast or demon."

  Kreg, Kaila, and Bryon sat on stools around the map table in Marek's tent. Bryon had invited Dahren, but he had begged off, claiming that his wound--the demon's touch had burned him when he had tried to grasp it--pained him too much. A sloppy, hastily applied patch sealed the rent in the roof. Above the center of the table floated an image of Shillond's head, next to it, one of Keven's. "That's bad," Shillond said. "That's very bad."

  "Aye." Keven nodded. "My heart yearns to abandon all save the search for my father. My head speaks that he would wish me to save the kingdom."

  "This is, in part, my fault, I think," Shillond said.

  "How say you, Mage?" Keven's image turned to look at Shillond's.

  "When we defeated the compulsion on Kaila, I thought the danger was past. If such a clumsy attempt, from so far away, was the best they could do..." Shillond shrugged. "I discussed the matter with King Marek and he thought much the same. I think Marek may have had the army mages seeking outward, against another such attempt, and not near at hand against the conjuring of a demon."

  "There was no mage near at hand," Kaila said.

  "The mage need not have been present," Shillond said. "The spell could have been cast into some small object, a ring or amulet perhaps."

  "But why now?" Kreg said. "If they could do something like this, why not at the beginning, before we even knew the war had started?"

  No one spoke for a long moment, then Shillond said, "Why indeed? What was special about this night?"

  "We won a great victory yesterday," Kaila said, "slaughtering the Schahi and their changeling armies with much slaughter."

  Kreg nodded. "And this morning?"

  "The Twins," Kaila whispered.

  "I think you have it, Kreg," Shillond said. "A large changeling army slaughtered, the minor demons released to return with the rising of the sun, and then..."

  "And then what?" Kreg asked. "That's as far as I got."

  "And then the path to the demon realm is opened," Shillond said, "allowing the greater demon to be more easily summoned."

  "So was everything, including our own victory, a deceit to spirit away the King?" Bryon shook his head. "It likes me not to think so, and yet..."

  "If so," Keven's image said, "it shall not succeed twice."

  "Keven is right," Shillond said. "Now that we know of this trick, we can guard against it."

  Kreg looked at the others and, from their expressions, the agreement seemed to be general.

  "Your Highness–-" Kaila bowed her head in the direction of Keven's image. "--what are your commands?"

  Keven sighed. "It likes me not, but order the army as my father commanded. Then, leave Duke Bryon in command and return hither."

  "What of Kreg, Highness?" Kaila asked.

  "Your squire returns with you."

  "He is no longer squire," Kaila said. "King Marek, with his own hand, conferred upon him knighthood."

  "Highness," Bryon broke in, "Kreg knows this new manner of fighting far better than I. Mayhap he should..."

  "Nay," Keven said. "He, and his knowledge, shall be needed here, methinks."

  "As you will." Bryon nodded once, sharply.

  Kreg caught up with Kaila as she strode from the tent. "Something is bothering you?"

  "Zantor lies beyond the line that we are able to hold," she said. "They are my people and I am sworn to protect them. Am I now to abandon them to the mercies of Schah?"

  "I don't know," Kreg said. "I wish I knew something we could do."

  #

  It took ten days for the first units of the army to reach, and pass through, the Black Mountains. The remainder of the army trailed over three to four days behind them.

  "The army turns northward here," Kaila told Kreg. "We continue to the west and Norveth."

  Kreg nodded. He twisted in his saddle to face Bryon. "You'll be okay, won't you?"

  "Aye." Bryon bowed slightly. "These tactics of yours are a thing unseen before, but methinks I understand someought of them. We shall hold."

  By changing horses several times a day, Kreg and Kaila were able to reach Norveth in a mere three days. In the Capital, new stonework filled the gap where the krayt had broken through the city wall. Workmen had nearly finished the ditches that Kreg had suggested. A wooden palisade sat atop the outermost off the earthen ramparts, further protecting the soldiers within.

  Keven met them at the palace gates. "The situation grows more desperate," Keven told them as he led the way to the council chamber. "As you say, it has been needful to forsake the easternmost provinces."

  Kreg noted Kaila's sharp frown as Keven said this. Keven apparently noticed it too as he nodded in her direction. He continued. "An army approaches from the west and we halt it not. An envoy from Merona arrived last night. They have come under attack and they implore our aid. Since Merona has sent aid to us, I cannot in conscience refuse them so we weaken ourselves further. And the King has been spirited away by demons."

  "Damn," Kreg said. “When you put it all together like that...”

  "And yet," Keven continued. "All is not darkness. You have won us a great victory in the East before setting the army to guard the lines you have chosen. The army in the west has proven to be smaller than at first report, mayhap because they draw forces to attack Merona, and we have good news from the south." He smiled. "Faron has sent word that he has broken the siege of Elam. Even now, our army rides to Trevanta to discover if they too face foes and to aid them if they are. And our ships raid the coast of Schah at will, although that has not stopped their armies from striking outward. "He opened the door to the council chamber and motioned Kreg and Kaila inside. A large map of the kingdom covered the council table. Shillond already stood by the table, studying the map intently. They exchanged greetings.

  "We need to make plans," Keven concluded as he took a position alongside the table.

  "First we must secure our western border," Kaila said. "It matters not what else we do; we cannot leave enemies in the heart of Aerioch."

  "I know not how to drive them from the land," Keven said. "Given time, perhaps..."

  "Time," Shillond said, "is what we do not have. The longer the Chanakran wizards have, the more armies they can conjure. Given time they can conjure up an invincible army."

  Kreg sighed and nodded.

  "In a single day," Kaila said, "we destroyed a vast army in the east. May we not do so in the west?"

  Keven considered for a moment. "Kreg? 'Twas your counsel that gave us victory in the east. What say you?"

  "I don't know," Kreg said. "Possible, I guess. The trick is to avoid meeting strength with strength. Even if you win, that's wasteful. You want to bring strength where they're weak and avoid fighting where they're strong. If you can do that, you can win and numbers become less important. If you can't, it's a slugging match with numbers on their side."

  "It sounds as though you counsel to flee from a strong enemy," Keven said.

  Kaila leaned forward. "Keven..."

  Keven raised a hand and waved it. "I mean no insult." He smiled. "I am no Dahren to reject counsel that sounds strange to my ears."

  Kreg nodded in response and said, "What we need, I think, is to find a good, defensible, position and let them break themselves on that. That depends on being able to fight when and where we want."

  "Then 'twill be no difficulty." Keven spread his hands, palms upward. "They chase the army, turning neither to the right nor to the left. We needs must place ourselves where we wish to fight and allow them to overtake."

  "Then we may smite them!"
Kaila slapped the table.

  "Somehow," Shillond said, "I don't think it will be quite that easy."

  "It might be," Kreg said, "or close to it. Are they still using that wave tactic?"

  "Aye," Keven said.

  "So," Shillond said.

  "And so," Kaila said, "we have answered the question of the army in the West. What counsel have we for Merona?"

  "Once we have vanquished the army in the west we might send aid," Keven said.

  "Nay, your highness." Kaila bowed her head in apology for contradicting him. "Merona has little of cavalry, and those they have are less skilled at arms than our own. An' we wait, Merona shall fall."

  "Then we must weaken ourselves further." Keven slumped into a chair as he said that. "For we are honor bound to their aid."

  "Spartans," Kreg said.

  "I know not this word," Keven said.

  "The Spartans were a people on my own world a long time ago," Kreg said. "They were famous for their fighting spirit and skill."

  "How are warriors from your world to help us here?" Kaila asked.

  "According to legend, when one of the Spartans' allies asked for help, the King of the Spartans would send one warrior."

  Kaila cocked her head slightly. "Just one? They were so redoubtable then?"

  "They were, but not in the way you are thinking," Kreg said. "They knew the art of war as it was practiced then better than just about anybody else. It wasn't so much the spear, sword, and shield that the Spartan brought, but the knowledge. In a later day, the term was military advisor."

  "Of course." Shillond's head bobbed in agreement. "And even if Merona cannot defeat the Schahi army, they may at least slow their advance until we can send more tangible aid."

  "At least they'd have a chance, something they don't have now." Kreg thought for a moment. "And just maybe this strong defense on all fronts will be enough to make Schah back off. It's happened on my world."

  Keven nodded. "So be it." He paused for a long moment. "Now, what is to be done about the King, my father?"

  "He was spirited away by a demon, was he not?" Shillond stared into the space between steepled fingers.