by Chogan Swan
“I have,” Jyrmak said. “Those of us who defend the pass are now more than I expected, but Tyr-Goth has grown more than I feared.”
Seth nodded. “We will do what we can and pray all the while. No one can see all the way through to the end of this yet, no matter how many moves ahead they can think.”
“Ah? And why is that, oh my prize pupil?” asked Jyrmak with a smile.
Seth smiled and raised his hands. “The players are not all on the board yet,” he answered.
Jyrmak nodded. “That raises both the possibilities of hope and disaster.”
“True,” replied Seth, “but those are always possibilities. Life is much more than a giant gaming board.”
Jyrmak laughed, “You have learned more than when I taught you. Perhaps I didn't send you off soon enough.”
“Jyrmak?” said a voice behind them. Jyrmak turned and took Wyatt by the shoulders to contemplate him with a piercing gaze. A sad look came over his ancient face. “You walked long on roads hidden from me, and they have left cruel marks on you. Always you acted in the manner that seemed the highest to you, but not always in wisdom. Yet, here we all are now according to the Creator's purposes. I rejoice to see you at last.” Jyrmak embraced him then he stepped back and looked at him again. “There is an evil poison in your flesh you are not free of yet. You hold it off, but you have not overcome it. Did you think it was gone?”
Wyatt shook his head, “I cannot cast it down yet, even though I battle it every night.”
Jyrmak stood still for a moment looking thoughtful. “Neither do I have the power to take it from you, but I can be sure it will not touch your spirit.”
Wyatt smiled, “I am glad to hear assurance of that. I had begun to doubt.”
~~~~~~~~~~{}~~~~~~~~~~
As Arod reached the crest of the slope approaching the pass, he kicked his donkey into a trot. His guards, along with Kane, Alaina and Marshall struggled up as fast as they could on foot, but the colt was strong and far ahead of them.
He urged the donkey forward, guessing where the command tent would be. As he passed a group of Perthian knights working at constructing a rampart, a grizzled veteran glanced up and gasped as he passed. With a shout he dropped the rock he was hoisting and ran after Arod shouting, “The king, the king! Hail the king!”
~~~~~~~~~~{}~~~~~~~~~~
“What is that commotion?” wondered Arturo.
Seth paused, listening. “Father!” he shouted and dashed off toward the noise. Wyatt ran after him. Arturo straightened his tunic, he was about to meet one of the most powerful kings in the West and he had to go in front of him well-nigh in tatters.
Jyrmak smiled, seeing his expression of dismay. “Don't worry about your clothes, lad,” he chuckled. “His are in worse shape than yours.”
~~~~~~~~~~{}~~~~~~~~~~
The auxiliaries looked on in amazement as their Perthian comrades-in-arms left their work to jump and shout at the old man on the donkey. Then the general's brother, and the general himself came pelting down the hill at a dangerous speed. But, most startling of all, they both knelt down in the dust.
The old man swung down from the donkey and looked around. All the knights of Perth fell to their knees. Seeing their commander kneeling, some of the quicker-witted auxiliaries dropped to their knees as well.
Slowly, almost as though afraid they would disappear, Arod went to his sons and took them by the shoulders, raising them up and holding them both in a hard embrace. He laughed in joy.
“It is enough just to see you both again. My life is complete. Ah well, let's get on with it then. Our work is not done.” He turned to the crowd of onlookers. “Back to work! All of you!” he yelled good-naturedly.
Shouting and laughing, the knights of Perth hurried back to their tasks. Bemused, the auxiliaries did the same.
Arod turned back to his sons and put his hands on their arms, “Take me where we can see the camp of the enemy,” he said firmly.
Seth nodded agreement, “This way,” he indicated.
“Tell me our situation as we go up,” said Arod.
~~~~~~~~~~{}~~~~~~~~~~
The three of them stopped by a tilting stone at the crest of the pass and looked down at the northern plain, darkened by the assembled host.
“... so, the last I have heard from Balaak was a message this morning by a mounted courier, ordering me to report to him straightway,” said Wyatt. “We've held the messenger here, so Balaak will suspect my defiance before long.”
“We have clashed before, he and I,” said Arod. “Unless he has changed, he will try to use his advantage in numbers first.”
“It will cost him,” said Wyatt.
“He is prepared to kill every man he brought with him to get rid of us,” said Arod, “But come, I have seen enough. Someone should be attending to the preparations.”
“Our lieutenants know to pick up where we've left,” Seth said.
“Then I want to meet them,” said Arod.
~~~~~~~~~~{}~~~~~~~~~~
“Y' may be who y' say,” Keri said. “But I don't follow orders on hearsay. Y'll have to wait till I get confirmation. Until then, nobody looks at the troop placement charts.”
Marshall glowered down at her—a mere slip of a girl—but she had a stubborn set to her jaw and a dangerous glint in her eyes. She would not back down, if he was any judge of character, so they would have to wait. Kane and Alaina, taking a more pragmatic approach, settled down in the sun with their backs against a rock and closed their eyes to rest.
Marshall, resigning himself and joined them. The girl went back to making notes and sending messengers off to different parts of the camp. At times, the scar-faced mercenary officer who shared the table would step over to confer with her then go back to his end of the table, to do the same.
Marshall could not help but admire her assurance. The men who reported to this young woman treated her and her decisions with respect. Whoever the leaders of this peculiar confederacy were, they had entrusted her with responsibilities.
Marshall sat down next to Kane and crossed his arms, he’d wait, but he wouldn't be happy about it.
When Jyrmak came striding up with a dapper-looking nobleman from Ibuchan, Marshall refused to move or acknowledge their presence. When the two of them went straight to the map table without an argument from the little hellion with the red-gold hair, Marshall gave up in disgust and decided to take a nap until someone asked for his contribution.
Just as he had settled his shoulders into a good position and was breathing in unison with Kane, something small and prickly fell on his head. With a start he looked around.
Fletch perched above him on the boulder.
“Well,” said Marshall, “you’ve been scarce this last week, but I see I will need to start wearing my steel cap again.”
“I apologize,” said Fletch.
“You?... Apologize?” Marshall said, gasping.
“Yes, all I could find were dry pinecones, I know you prefer the sticky ones, but there are none about. So... I apologize.”
“Well, to be honest,” said Marshall, “I did miss you, you rascal. Where were you?”
“To Ibuchan, Perth.., a number of places to get everyone here in time. Haven't you looked over the ridge yet?”
“No,” said Marshall, frustration coloring his voice. “I know the north side of the pass, and I'm sure it's just swarming with the rotten Tyr-Goth like everyone says. But I haven't been allowed to review the defense plans—as if I haven't thought about this happening for fifteen years and more. I'm not running up the rest of this hill like a green recruit just to see what I already know. If we hadn't been bottled in the keep, I would have been here with every man from here to Rhyl three weeks ago.”
He folded his arms. “No, I will sit right here until the king decides to return. He said to meet him at the command post here, and by the thunder and light of heaven, that's what I'm doing. Now, let me sleep.” He lay back against the rock.
“Let you
sleep?” said a voice behind him. “You never had any sympathy when I asked for sleep every morning before dawn since I was twelve. Why should you get to sleep now?”
Marshall was on his feet in a breath, and Seth was embracing him with rib-cracking intensity. Marshall felt tears coming to his eyes and for once did not fight them.
Over Seth's shoulder he saw Wyatt and he gasped in further astonishment. “I thought you were dead; I feared you both dead.”
“Is it you, Wyatt?” asked Kane, rising from the ground. “Do you live?”
“Kane? And little Alaina?” gasped Wyatt. “What are you doing in this fateful pass?”
“We were called here. In the same way all the rest of you were,” Kane said, “to do what we can and to make something to sing about.”
Seth turned, smiling, and clasped arms with the bard, “You've seen truly, my good friend, as you said when we parted, we would meet again in the Creator's timing.”
Alaina came over and put her hands on their wrists, “I pray there will be another time than this when we are all together again. Prince Seth. But, if not then this one is still good.”
Seth laughed in quick joy and agreement. He turned and hugged Alaina and stepped back to look at her. “You have walked far since we parted,” he said. “I hope the steps were not too painful.”
Alaina smiled with tears springing to her eyes, “Painful enough,” she admitted, “and I doubt I have taken more than a step or two in the right direction.”
“Seth,” called Keri from the map table, “I hate to interrupt here, but Tyr-Goth is moving up the pass.”
“Now it comes,” Kane said. “Now we shall stand as we were called to.”
Chapter 7 (Darkness Falling)
Seth stood on the huge tilting boulder at the top of the pass and considered both sides of the battlefield. Dawn touched the tents of the enemy's camp. Keri, not one to be left behind, had clambered up after him.
“You know, when I joined up with you it wasn't just to get myself out of a jam,” Keri said. “...though I was glad when it worked out that way. But here we are in another one, and this one ten times worse.”
Keri turned in a circle to look over the whole situation, “We might defend this ground forever, if it weren't for two problems: food and water. If either North or East realizes we aren't supplied, we will just sit here and starve to death and all they will have to do is step right over our skinny carcasses.”
Seth smiled. Keri's Ibuchan accent had been disappearing, as she spent time with Seth, Arturo and the correct diction of the knights of Perth of noble birth; she was an adaptable sort.
“You climbed this boulder; you could do the same over that mountain and be through with all this,” he pointed out.
Keri turned and considered the mountain. “I suppose,” she admitted. “It isn't like you need me; you have all your friends now, and that Marshall is a slick one, better than any commander in Ibuchan anyway, and Arturo with his knights and those mercs from over the mountain can hold the Tarrians on this ground forever.”
“I’d miss you,” Seth said.
Keri smiled. “I guess we could starve together then,” she chuckled then looked thoughtful for a moment. “By the way,” she said, “Are you promised in marriage or anything like that?”
“No,” Seth said, puzzled. Keri was one of the few people he had trouble anticipating.
“Well,” Keri said, “I'd heard royal houses sometimes had things like that arranged.”
“Not with our family,” Seth said with a grin.
“I hope you don't think I'm saying this because you might still have a kingdom if we get out of all this,” Keri said, “but I’d marry you.”
Seth turned to look at her.
Keri returned his gaze seriously. “You think about it,” she suggested gravely.
“I will,” replied Seth.
“They’ll be here soon,” Keri said glancing toward the north.
Seth nodded, “This battle will not be mine. Mine will come from the east.”
“Those three demons again?”
“Whatever they bring with them,” Seth said, his voice expressionless.
~~~~~~~~~~{}~~~~~~~~~~
A blare of brassy trumpets rose up from the valley; Tyr-Goth was advancing. Down below where Seth and Keri were standing, Wyatt signaled to Mitkai, and the crews standing by the improvised constructed catapults began winching them into firing position and loading them with stones. In a minute, the creaking of logs changed to the loud impact of timber on timber as the machines cast the first stones into the valley.
Half of the first missiles went wide, but adjustments were made, and more accurate missiles soon began to rain upon the invaders. But, though missiles fell all around, they came on, holding shields over their heads, the fear of Balaak and his baalim was on them, and it was stronger than the fear of death from a sword or a stone.
David Amiran watched the horde of black clad northern forces pushing their way forward through the hail of stones. David was a young knight in the baron Margai's command, he was stationed with a signal crew high on the rocky slopes to the west of the pass.
This morning he had been working hard gathering stones for the catapult crews when the old man with the sharp eyes had come striding through the camp. David looked up as the old man was passing; the thought ran through his mind that he hoped he’d be that energetic if he lived to be old....
When he lived to be old.
He amended the thought wryly. It would not be of any benefit to allow doubts to worry at him. The old man's tunic and mantle were of a thick beautiful ivory colored cloth that had seen recent hard wear and patching, and his soft boots were very well broken in. But though hard worn, the cloths were washed and well sewn and the boots were oiled and cared for. His long white hair gathered in a neat knot at the nape of his neck. As he walked past, intent on something ahead of him, he stopped, as though someone had called him.
He stood still for a moment then turned and looked at David. When his gaze met David's, the young knight almost staggered. The old man stepped up to where David was working and motioned for him to come over.
“What is your name?” he asked.
“David Amiran.”
“David Amiran, I see you are a man who listens to his heart of hearts,” said the old man. “Remain so.” Then he clapped David on the shoulder and walked off.
David saw him a few moments later talking to Baron Margai, and within the hour he had been reassigned up here.
The flagmen signaled to the officers below; David wondered why they’d stationed him away up here, far from his expected assignments. The northern army still advanced under the barrage. In a few minutes more, they would be beneath where David stood.
He stepped closer to the end of the ledge and looked down. The talus field below was a colossal jumble of loose boulders. David knew, from the last few days of working gathering stones, most of them were stable, but some of them could slide and move without warning. He remembered one huge stone that had teetered when they had removed a nearby group of stones to load in the catapults. He realized he could see the stone from where he sat and he leaned forward, leaning on a large boulder, to see better. With a start he jerked back, the boulder he had touched was hot.
He touched it again, just brushing it with cautious fingers. It seemed as though someone spoke a word deep in the pit of his stomach. Without stopping to think, he knew. Without stopping to question, he acted.
He wrapped his arms around the huge rock, bracing himself against the slope behind him. Two rough spots in the stone let his hands latched onto it. As he grasped it, he started to shake. He lifted the stone and cast it away from the ledge; it felt weirdly light. He watched as it arced through the air to fall square upon a wedge shaped stone, knocking it clear from a cluster of boulders that arched behind it. The pile of rocks seemed to slip downslope a few feet then, with a deep groaning sound, the entire slope began to drift downward.
Above the slop
es, the troops defending the pass watched in wonder and awe as an avalanche of stones, dust and boulders poured down from the side of the mountain filling the pass with a roar like a mighty, ongoing thunderclap. Six thousand of the invaders disappeared beneath the slide in a few moments. The remaining Tyr-Goth fell back, shouting and scrambling.
Later that afternoon, when the dust settled, the Tyr-Goth advanced again, stumbling over the unstable rock fall, still driven forward by fear. But—with the pass filled with loose stones—they were unable to hold their shields in position and soon began to fall to the stones and arrows from above. The slingers of the Russ and the archers of the south took a heavy toll of them. After three hours of a struggling advance with no success, the trumpets below gave the signal blast for withdrawal.
The auxiliaries shouted and crashed swords and spears against their shields in a jubilant din.
~~~~~~~~~~{}~~~~~~~~~~
From atop the pass, Seth and Keri watched the armies below.
In wonder Keri whispered to herself “Who is this that fights for Gynt?”
Seth turned to face her, “Do you not know?” he asked with a smile. Then he turned and scrambled down the rock.
Keri followed. Seth waited for her at the bottom to make sure she did not fall.
“They will return tonight when they can move in under cover of darkness,” Seth said.
~~~~~~~~~~{}~~~~~~~~~~
When dusk fell that night Tom Waterman felt uneasy. He didn't like the idea of fighting at night, but he'd done it before. So he couldn't put his finger on the problem. He was not someone to be frightened without cause, and he couldn't understand it. By degrees, the feeling grew. The men in his squad cast glances around and cowered behind boulders, some of them even dropped their spears.
Then Waterman remembered what the general had told him to expect at the onset of the battle in the dark.