The Hordes of Chanakra (Knights of Aerioch)

by David L Burkhead

  "Do you think she's still alive?"

  Kreg winced at the look of pure misery that crossed Shillond's face. "I don't know. She was still alive when you last saw her, so since they didn't kill her outright maybe, just maybe, they took her prisoner instead." He removed the spit from the fire to examine the roasting meat. "Kreg, in over five centuries she's the only child I've ever had. I--I can't bear to think of any option but her being alive."

  "I know," Kreg said, his voice hoarse. "Me, too."

  "You?" Shillond looked up from the roast meat to peer closely at Kreg. "You see her as more than a friend. Don't you?"

  "Yeah." Kreg picked up a stick and poked at the fire, sending sparks popping. "Yeah, I guess I do. But she loves Keven, so--"

  "She does not love Keven," Shillond said flatly.

  Kreg froze. "But you said..."

  "I said that they were expected to marry. It is not a love match. Only the needs of the kingdom led to the decision for them to marry. Kaila's sense of duty would not let her shirk. That alone kept her true to Keven."

  #

  As darkness settled over the Schahi camp, Kaila felt along the chain until she found a particular link. With strong fingers she flecked off dried mud then retrieved the stone from where she had secreted it under the slave collar. It dug painfully into her flesh on the march, wearing an angry red ulceration, but no one had found it despite visits by her captors.

  Those visits had stopped after the third night. Even demons in human form could learn to feel pain and to fear it. Several of the Schahi rode wagons with bones broken by her hands. One lay dead, his throat crushed. That one had remained human with the rising of the sun so it had not been one of the changelings.

  Kaila turned her attention to the link of chain. For several weeks she had been scraping at it, always in the same spot, with the stone. Slowly, she had worn away the material, digging a gouge into the link. Each day, she covered the signs of her work with mud, formed with her own saliva if no other moisture offered.

  The work had been difficult. Her fingers first reddened, then blistered, then callused. The tendons and joints ached each night from the effort of holding the small stone and pressing it against the link of chain, yet the effort had been worthwhile. The link had worn almost thin enough to break.

  Once more Kaila set down the small stone and wrapped the chain around her hands. Straining with all her strength, she pulled. The metal creaked slightly, then, with a soft chink, the thin neck of metal that remained parted.

  With eager haste, Kaila worked and tugged at the chain until one of the neighboring links slid through the gap in the broken link. A second of sliding the chain through the loops on her collar and she was free.

  Kaila grinned a wolfish grin as she glided silently through the camp. Since the Schahi had given her no clothes, she wrapped the blankets around herself.

  She paused in the shadows of a wagon, which stood just inside the perimeter of the camp. Only a few scattered sentries, standing by watch fires, guarded the camp. Her grin widened as she thought how they would pay for that vigilance.

  The frozen ground made silence difficult and Kaila had never had much skill at stealth. She had never needed it. Kaila did not know if the guard had not heard her or if he had just ignored any sounds she made. Whatever the reason, she reached him without his reacting.

  From five feet away, she leaped. Her right arm circled his throat and her left grabbed his right wrist. She pulled, cutting off his wind and any cry he might make. As he struggled in her grip, she pulled harder. And harder still. Finally, she heard a crunching crack, like a handful of twigs breaking. The guard twitched once and went limp.

  Kaila took a moment to steal the guard's weapons: a sword, somewhat lighter than her own: and two daggers, one balanced for throwing. She considered stripping him of his clothing but the tunic and trousers would be too small for her.

  She slipped off into the night.

  From hiding in the scrub she watched the Schahi camp and tried to decide what to do. For the first time in her life she was truly alone. Always before she had had someone to lean on, someone to give her direction or at least advice. On embassies to other kingdoms, she had always traveled with Shillond. In council she had always deferred to the King or to Keven.

  Now Shillond was gone. The King and Keven were gone. Even Kreg was gone, dead or captured.

  She pulled the blankets tighter and considered. Returning to Norveth would serve no purpose. If the wizard had spoken truly, then Shillond was dead and, though she could not allow herself grief, the thought clutched at her heart. Kreg was most likely dead as well and that thought made her heart clutch even tighter. Only the King and Keven were still alive. Very well, that would be her goal. Perhaps if she followed the Schahi, they would find some way to free them. At worst, she could die in the attempt.

  She crawled backwards, away from the army, suppressing a gasp at the cold of the ground against her naked knees. She would watch, and she would follow.

  #

  Kreg looked down the hill at the army unit passing by. Almost entirely cavalry, they had few wagons, relying instead on packhorses.

  Kreg glanced back at Shillond and nodded once.

  Shillond whispered a string of words that Kreg did not understand. He made tiny gestures with his fingers, moving them in intricate patterns. A moment later he shook his head.

  Kreg frowned. Kaila was not with this group. He nodded and tapped Shillond on the shoulder. Together they backed away, crawling on their bellies.

  Once they had passed the crest of the hill and descended far enough to do so safely, they stood up.

  "Gods, Shillond," Kreg whispered so quietly that he was nearly mouthing the words. "It's been weeks. If they still had her, they'd have been through here by now, wouldn't they?"

  Despite the frustration he felt, Kreg never once raised his voice above the faintest of whispers. They had learned to be cautious.

  "It's too soon to give up yet, Kreg." Shillond kept his voice equally low. "Travel in winter is always slow. And if they have more than a couple of wagons with them, they'll be slowed all the more."

  "All right." Kreg sighed. "I guess I'd better get back up to lookout then."

  Shillond clapped him on the shoulder and continued down the hill to their small camp.

  At the hilltop, Kreg kept watch as he had for more than four weeks. He piled leaves over himself, both to hide his position and to keep away the chill. Winter had finally reached this far south, bringing constant frosts. It snowed little, but the icy rains were in many ways worse.

  About noon, Shillond brought him a gourd of warm soup and a leaf-wrapped bundle of acorn bannock. Wordlessly, Kreg nodded thanks and ate while continuing his watch.

  Late in the afternoon, Kreg saw another army approaching from the North. In the distance Kreg could see that they had a number of wagons with them, drawn by mules. While they were yet a good distance away, Kreg slipped out of his blind and trotted down the hill, long practice made even his trot nearly silent.

  Kreg approached the camp with hand over mouth to warn Shillond to silence. He made the hand gestures they had developed to inform Shillond of the approaching army and tell him its approximate composition. Shillond nodded and gestured back up the hill.

  Kreg and Shillond moved as fast as absolute silence would allow. Several close calls in the preceding weeks had taught them the need for the utmost in caution.

  The two of them reached the top of the hill before the army had reached its foot. Shillond cast a quick spell and nodded to Kreg. "No scouts in the area. We can speak."

  Kreg nodded. They could talk, but he preferred not to for the most part.

  They crawled down to their position behind a low row of bushes. When the army reached the foot of the hill Shillond cast a spell. As Kreg watched, Shillond cut the spell short.

  "Mage," Shillond whispered quietly.

  Kreg's eyebrows twitched upwards. "Did he spot your spell?"

  "I
think not," Shillond said. "But I think something a little more subtle is called for."

  Slowly, Shillond mumbled the words of another spell. His fingers moved in a different but no less intricate pattern.

  Kreg saw Shillond's breath catch as he completed the spell.

  "Shillond?" He whispered urgently.

  Shillond bit hard at his lip. "I...saw...Kaila's sword." He dropped his eyes. "I did not see her. She is not with them."

  Kreg had trouble breathing. He tried to swallow, to clear his throat, but a cold lump made even that difficult. He tapped Shillond's shoulder and backed up the hill.

  Once clear, he stood and said. "So. We feared it might happen. If they have Kaila’s sword, but not Kaila, then..."

  Shillond nodded. "Now we know."

  Kreg looked up the hill as though he could conjure a vision of the army on the other side. "Can we at least recover her sword? I know it's stupid but it seems the least we can do for her."

  "There's a mage with them. That will make it difficult--and dangerous."

  "But not impossible?"

  Shillond nodded. "But not impossible."

  They returned to their camp, gathered their meager supplies, and headed south. The two of them were able to move faster than the army, burdened as it was by wagons. By nightfall they were several miles ahead of it.

  #

  The next morning Kreg strung his makeshift bow. Neither as powerful nor as accurate as his Meronan longbow had been, it would nevertheless serve for their plan. Five weeks of practice in bringing down small game for their meals had made Kreg reasonably accurate with it.

  "The wizard will have to be our first priority," Kreg said.

  "I know the plan, Kreg," Shillond said. "You be ready. You'll have a few seconds only before he realizes he's under attack."

  Kreg grinned. "I know the plan, Shillond." His grin faded. "Are you as nervous as I am?"

  "Likely," Shillond said. "I could probably defeat this wizard in a duel--he did not seem terribly powerful--but I could not fight him and the army."

  "And I'm not up to taking on either one single-handed," Kreg said. "I just wish we could use that ability of mine a little more positively."

  "Kreg, we don't know if you can suppress some spells while permitting others. I'm afraid now is not the time to test it."

  Kreg nodded.

  Shillond raised his hand in benediction before disappearing into the woods. Kreg waited a few minutes before heading in a different direction.

  Kreg found the road and selected a tree, a pine. He climbed, finding a point where he could still see the road, but where he would be nearly impossible to spot from the ground.

  He positioned himself comfortably, his legs bridging two branches and his back resting against the bole of the tree.

  In the preceding weeks Kreg had become used to waiting. He sat watching the road. After a time, he reached into a rabbit-skin pouch at his belt and drew out a few pieces of broken bannock to munch.

  In time, the Schahi unit came into view. Kreg watched as the fore guard rounded a curve in the road. He selected one of his two arrows and fitted it to his bowstring. He would have one chance, maybe a second one. If he failed with both, then nothing would matter. Kreg licked dry lips as the leaders of the group passed under his tree. The main body of the unit appeared around the curve and again Kreg waited, but now he focused on allowing magic to work.

  Finally, Kreg heard a shout. A man, just rounding the bend, stood wreathed in silver fire. Shillond's spells had caused the wizard's magical defenses to flare visibly. Locking his eyes on that figure, Kreg willed magic, all magic including any defenses the wizard called up, to cease.

  In one smooth motion, Kreg drew, sighted, and let fly. He had his second arrow to string and the bow drawn before the first struck. He did not need the second arrow. The first struck the wizard full in the chest. He toppled to the ground.

  As Kreg again concentrated on allowing magic to function, Shillond began the second part of the plan. Flames burst out of the forest from the far side of the road. Some of the Schahi fled into the surrounding woods. Others charged into the forest, charging in the direction of the source of the flames. Few stayed on the road.

  Kreg grinned as he clambered down the tree. As Shillond had warned him, he felt a faint tugging in his head. He followed the direction of the pull. It led him after one of the Schahi who had fled.

  When Kreg hit the ground, he dropped the bow. He raced off, letting the pull in his head lead.

  Unarmored and carrying only his sword, Kreg could move much faster than a man wearing heavy armor. He caught up to the Schahi as he slipped in the slimy bottom of an ice-rimmed stream.

  Kreg stood at the edge of the stream and leaned on his sword as if it were a walking stick. "You have two choices," he said. "You can yield to me that sword and I'll let you leave here alive. Or we can do this the hard way and I take the sword anyway."

  The Schahi looked up from his stumbling in the streambed and seemed to measure Kreg with his eyes. Kreg noted his measuring stare and said, "I'd better warn you. I killed a peer of the realm of Aerioch in single combat. Armor or no armor, he never touched me."

  With a scream, the Schahi charged Kreg. Kreg parried his swing, made clumsy by the slippery mud underfoot. Kreg brought his sword hard against the back of the Schahi's sword hand. The sword dropped to the ground as Kreg thrust with his own sword, stopping a fraction of an inch from the Schahi's faceplate. "I'd get lost if I were you."

  The Schahi backed away. He hesitated for a moment then turned and ran.

  "Oh, wondrous well done!"

  Kreg spun at the sound of that voice. His sword dropped from nerveless fingers. "Kaila? I thought you dead!"

  She stood before him. Thinner than he remembered, whipcord and muscle. A light smile played about her lips.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  "And I had thought both of you dead," Kaila said when they had finished relating to each other the events of the past few weeks. "When the wizard said that no mages survived in Norveth, what could I think but that you had fallen, Shillond? And Kreg, for you I feared as well."

  They sat around a small fire in the hollow in which Kreg and Shillond had hidden. Several small animals roasted on spits above the fire while more acorn bannock baked on rocks next to it. Kaila had already ravenously devoured the small store of food they had previously prepared.

  Shillond nodded. "We escaped before the final fall of the city."

  "You escaped, Shillond." Kreg's voice held no hint of rancor. "You kidnapped me. So,” he continued, “You broke free of your chains and escaped the camp. Then what?"

  “They searched for me,” Kaila said. “For eight days I hid, never daring to stray too far lest they depart and I not be able to follow. It was a peril-fraught time, but in time they ceased to search and resumed their march to the south. I followed, and was much surprised to find you here.”

  “And I had thought you lost when Dahren pushed you from the wall.”

  "So the unknown squire was Dahren in disguise?" Kaila asked.

  Kreg nodded slowly. "After he pushed you, Bertan reacted before I could. When they fought, Dahren used that secret thrust of his--that's how I recognized him--and got Bertan in the shoulder. His point hit that big artery and Bertan bled to death before I could stop it." He stared down at the frost covered leaves. "He died in my arms."

  Kaila laid her hand on Kreg's, "I share your grief."

  Kreg nodded slightly.

  "So Dahren was a traitor?" Kaila asked after a short time.

  "Probably. I don't really know," Kreg said. "He may have been a traitor all along, or he may have just hated you enough..."

  Kaila nodded. "Aye. It may be that we will never know. Nowhere is it writ that we shall always understand all things." She pulled one of the spits from the fire and tested the meat. Satisfied, she bit into it. “I crave pardon for my hunger. I have had little enough these past few weeks, some nuts and a few fish, eaten raw.” S
he looked the two of them over. "You have changed. The both of you."

  Kreg looked at Shillond, then down at himself. They had both lost weight, nearly as much as Kaila. The changes had come about so gradually that they had not noticed until Kaila pointed out the difference. "I guess food's been a little scarce," he said. "There's not much forage in winter."

  "Aye." Kaila gestured down at her own body. She had made a slit in the center of one of the blankets and draped it over her body with her head passing through the slit. The sword belt at her waist converted it into a makeshift dress. The other she had formed into a cloak, securing it at her throat with a short cord made of braided grass. The boots had long since worn away and she had replaced them with sandals woven from more dry grass. To protect her feet from cold she had wrapped them with wool cut from the edges of the blankets. "We must make plans."

  Kreg blinked, confused for a moment at Kaila's sudden change of subject. A moment later he nodded. "Since we're together at last, maybe we should go after Baaltor and find the answer to that changeling spell."

  Shillond shook his head. "I don't think that would serve any purpose now. Schah has already won. Even if we defeat the demon and find a way to eliminate all the changelings, we'd still have to face the Schahi army, plus the Chanakran wizards. I do not think the three of us could manage that."

  "What of Faron?" Kaila asked.

  "If he hasn't fallen already, he will soon. Certainly before we can reach him."

  Kreg nodded. "Yeah. I think you're right, Shillond." He paused. "There must be something we can do."

  "It was my thought," Kaila said, "when I believed you dead, to follow the returning army and hope that they would lead me to where the King and Keven are held. It was my hope that in some way we might raise a revolt and thus restore Aerioch." She shrugged. "I had not thought beyond that."

  "Maybe we can combine the two,” Kreg said. “Rescue the King and Keven, then go after Baaltor. Five may not be much more than three, but when two are the King and the Prince, that may be enough to draw whatever remains of Aerioch to us. It’s a chance, I think. "