The Final Battle

by Stuart Daly

  Caspan’s eyes narrowed. ‘Then we need to stop the Roon before they get anywhere near the drawbridge.’

  ‘Which is easier said than done,’ Jace muttered dourly. ‘We had an army of thousands back in the Pass, and we couldn’t stop them then. What hope do we stand?’

  They stood in silence for a moment, all staring at the map, trying to work out how such a small force with limited supplies could hold off the Roon. It seemed an impossible task to Caspan. Once the giants reached the causeway he couldn’t see how they’d be able to restrain them for much longer than an hour, if at that.

  Oswald suddenly sat up straight and blurted, ‘Holstein Bridge!’

  Sara stared at him, her eyes wide with sudden hope. ‘Of course! Why didn’t I think of it before?’

  Roland looked back and forth confusedly between Sara and Oswald. ‘What?’

  ‘When in need of an answer to a quandary, look to the past for an historical example,’ Sara explained.

  ‘Well, now that you’ve put it like that it makes perfect sense,’ Roland remarked sarcastically, throwing his hands in the air in frustration. ‘What in the blazes are you two talking about? What’s Holpton Bridge got to do with anything?’

  ‘It’s Holstein Bridge,’ Sara corrected.

  ‘Holstein – Holpenstekelstein – Holpiholpiholpispatsnzoodlystein!’ Roland blurted. ‘What difference does it make?’

  ‘Quite a lot, actually,’ Oswald said calmly, an amused expression on his face as he regarded the irate boy. ‘Especially considering the final two places you mentioned are non-existent, whilst the first is the location of a famous battle that took place in –’ he glanced questioningly at Sara.

  ‘765,’ she replied assuredly.

  Oswald clicked his fingers. ‘Ah, of course. How silly of me.’

  ‘You can try to impress me with dates until the cows come home, but it isn’t going to work. I’m still waiting for an explanation.’

  Sara gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Maybe if you’d paid more attention during History class in your cadet academy I wouldn’t have to waste my time explaining things to you.’ Roland screwed up his nose and did a first class impersonation of her. Sara rolled her eyes at him, then said, ‘At the Battle of Holpton Bridge –’

  Roland’s finger shot up in conjecture. ‘I believe the correct term is Holstein Bridge, my dear Sara. Please, I know it can be difficult at times, but do try to get your facts right.’

  Sara glowered at him. ‘Argh! You can be so infuriating!’ She took a few calming breaths before regaining her composure and continuing. ‘At Holstein Bridge a group of thirty Saxstein soldiers held off an army of several hundred warriors from Vorsklagov for an entire day until reinforcements arrived.’

  ‘Finally, we get to the relevant part,’ Roland commented.

  Sara did her best to ignore him. ‘The Saxstein soldiers were held up in a fort similar to this. The causeway was about the same size as the one here, but it didn’t have the defensive advantage of a drawbridge. Still, the Saxstein warriors used a tactic that prevented the enemy from coming across.’

  Roland’s eyes glistened roguishly. ‘Let me guess: they shouted historical examples from the battlements and bored the enemy to death.’

  Morgan gave him a stern look. ‘That’s enough from you. Sara can barely think straight with you constantly interrupting. Now, if you can’t keep quiet, I’ll send you to the parapets for guard duty.’ He glared at the boy for a moment before motioning with a wave of his hand for Sara to continue.

  She cleared her throat and sat down by the table. ‘The defenders were outnumbered. They could never hold out for long in a protracted siege. Like the situation we face here, they knew they had to stop the enemy from getting anywhere near the fort.’ She paused and glanced at the people gathered around the table.

  The suspense was more than Roland could bear. ‘And?’ he blurted, at the end of his tether. Morgan glowered at him. The boy gave the Master a wounded look and sunk down in a chair.

  ‘There was a large forest north of the river,’ Sara explained. ‘It was the middle of summer. The ground was littered with dried leaves and dead branches.’

  ‘Providing perfect fuel for a fire,’ Caspan said excitedly and, studying the map, located Rivergate. ‘I didn’t realise the woods on the northern bank stretched back so far.’

  Jace leaned over the table and, with his dagger, traced their path all the way back to the Pass. ‘It’s called Huntingdon Hedge.’

  ‘Hedge? That’s a pretty stupid name for a forest,’ Roland muttered, again drawing another glare from Master Morgan. ‘Well, it is,’ he insisted. ‘Think about it: a hedge implies a row of shrubs bordering a field – not a forest that stretches back for,’ he regarded the map, ‘well, what must be several miles. Seriously, either this Huntingdon fellow didn’t know what he was talking about or he had a very fertile imagination.’

  Caspan ignored him and stared fixedly at Sara and Oswald. ‘So you’re suggesting we stop the Roon by setting fire to the woods?’

  Sara nodded. ‘Frostbite could simply fly along the river bank, setting the forest alight in a matter of minutes. The snow hasn’t fallen particularly strongly here. I imagine the woods would go up in flames in no time at all.’

  ‘There aren’t any villages in the area?’ Caspan asked, again studying the map. ‘I’d hate for anybody to get hurt.’

  ‘Other than Roon, you mean,’ Roland said.

  ‘Huntingdon Hedge is a royal reserve,’ Jace replied. ‘People can travel through it, but nobody lives there.’ He pointed his dagger at a spot halfway between Rivergate and the Pass. ‘The King has a hunting lodge here. We passed by it during our flight. No-one was there, and it didn’t appear to have been used for some time.’

  ‘Now all we need is the wind to blow in our favour.’ Raven hurried over to a window and stared down at the battlements. She looked back at her friends gathered around the table, her eyes wide with excitement. ‘The wind’s picking up. And judging from the flags atop the barbican, it’s a southerly breeze.’

  Roland moaned and banged a clenched fist on the table in frustration. ‘Isn’t this typical of our luck? We finally come up with a half-decent plan of defence and the wind decides to blow the mother of all raspberries in our face.’

  Shanty leaned in close and whispered in his ear, ‘It’s actually good news. It means the wind’s blowing from the south.’

  Roland frowned. ‘Meaning the fire would spread north?’ Shanty nodded, and Roland gave his friends a sheepish look. ‘Well, that’s all right then.’

  Thom grinned wryly and signed to Caspan and Raven. They glanced at Roland and chuckled softly to themselves.

  Roland pointed at Thom. ‘Hey, I saw that!’ He turned to Caspan and Raven, who tried to hide their laughter behind their raised sleeves. ‘What did he just say?’

  ‘Oh, he just made a passing observation that we should hand you over to the Roon,’ Raven replied. ‘The confused information you’d give them would be priceless.’

  Roland smirked in spite of himself. ‘That’s not very nice,’ he said to Thom. ‘I’d expect more from you, being a respected member of the Brotherhood and all.’

  ‘Well, I guess we should stop talking about this and get started. Who’s coming with me?’ Caspan asked. ‘My saddle’s got room for two people.’

  Roland sat up enthusiastically and opened his mouth to reply, when Master Morgan said, ‘Sara should join you. It was, after all, her idea.’

  Roland made a dour face and slumped back in his chair. ‘If we’re going to get technical, it was actually Oswald’s suggestion.’

  Sara beamed and winked encouragingly at Caspan.

  ‘Come on then,’ he said, making his way to the door. ‘We’ve got an army to stop.’

  CHAPTER 15

  A STRANGER IN THE NIGHT

  Caspan and Sara flew Frostbite downstream for several minutes before they turned around and drew close to the northern bank. Driven by the blustering win
d, clouds raced past the full moon like tattered ghosts, and the pale moonlight shone upon the river surface, providing enough light for Caspan to navigate by. Huntingdon Hedge was ominously still and silent. Caspan was keen to finish the task and return to the safety of Rivergate. Even his sharp eyes couldn’t see far into the dark wall of trees, and he feared there might be Roon scouts spying on him, their axes and spears poised, ready to throw.

  He glanced back at Sara. ‘Do you think we should start here?’

  She nodded. ‘We need to create a wide front so that the Roon won’t be able to find a way around the fire. We must be at least a mile from Rivergate. I think that should be far enough.’

  ‘Are you ready?’

  Sara set an arrow to her bowstring. ‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’

  Before setting off they’d planned that Sara would watch the woods and provide cover as Caspan steered Frostbite along the winding river and the drake focused on setting the forest alight. Sara had proven herself a competent archer during their training sessions back at the House of Whispers, and Caspan was relieved to have her keeping an eye on his back.

  ‘Then let’s do it.’ Caspan dug his heels into Frostbite’s flanks, sending the drake upstream.

  They flew at a steady pace, wary of presenting an easy target to any Roon in the area, but also cautious of rushing the task and leaving gaps in the wall of fire. Caspan tapped Frostbite twice on the right side of the neck, directing the drake to turn his head towards the river bank but still fly straight ahead. It was one of the first commands Caspan and his friends had mastered during training, and his Warden responded instantly. They had just rounded a bend in the Mooryn and flew along a straight stretch, perfect for creating their deadly wall.

  ‘Fire!’ Caspan ordered.

  Frostbite filled his lungs with a great breath, arched his neck forward and shot a geyser of blue fire from his nostrils, illuminating the river and the neighbouring section of forest in a turquoise light. Patches of snow lay at the bases of the trees and clumped on branches, but it had no effect on the magical fire. Within seconds, a fifty-yard section of the river bank was ablaze. Driven by the strong wind, the fire spread rapidly through the trees, driving deeper into Huntingdon Hedge.

  Sara stared grimly at the inferno. ‘It won’t take the Roon long to spot that.’

  ‘I don’t care if they do, just as long as it stops them from coming anywhere near Rivergate.’ Caspan steered Frostbite into the middle of the river, away from the scorching heat, then commanded the drake to deliver another fiery blast towards the woods.

  Up the Mooryn they flew, setting the forest ablaze until the night sky had an eerie, blue glow. Caspan was surprised when they reached Rivergate. Barely any time seemed to have passed since they’d left the stronghold, which was good, for they didn’t know how long they had left before more Roon scouts, or the main army for that matter, reached the fortress. Frostbite swooped over the causeway and set Caspan’s mind at ease with a blast of fire that engulfed the forest to the immediate north.

  They extended the fire front further up the Mooryn until Sara cried out in alarm and pointed at the river bank. Caspan pulled back on Frostbite’s reins, bringing the drake to a sudden halt in the middle of the river. Peering down, he spotted a dark shape knee-deep in the water, hurrying away from the fire.

  He tensed, fearing it was a Roon scout, and reached behind to tap Sara on the thigh, urging her to loose her shaft. He caught himself when he realised that the figure was in fact a man, clad in forest greens and gripping a bow.

  ‘It’s a survivor from the Pass! We’ve got to rescue him.’ Caspan waved down at the man and yelled, ‘Up here!’

  The soldier looked up and, to Caspan’s surprise, ran back towards the forest. When he was a few yards from the woods he hesitated, glanced back at the drake and treasure hunters, and waved his bow above his head, signalling for help.

  Caspan flew Frostbite down towards the man, when two Roon burst out of the trees and charged towards him. The stranger set an arrow to his bow, turned and loosed the shaft, but it was a hasty shot and sailed several feet above the giants. But Sara had more luck. Skilfully twisting in the saddle to bring her bow around, she sent an arrow thudding into one of the giants’ shoulders, forcing him to drop his spear and howl in pain.

  Caspan let go of the reins and leaned over to the right, his outstretched hands reaching for the man, as he dropped his bow and leapt towards Frostbite. As they shot past, Caspan caught hold of the soldier and hauled him up. The man wrapped his arms around Frostbite’s neck as the drake soared back into the sky, just as the remaining Roon threw his axe.

  It sailed through the air, twisting head over shaft … until its haft thudded into the back of the soldier’s head. Caspan felt the man go limp and start to slide off Frostbite.

  His feet firmly secured in the saddle straps, Caspan pulled the man towards him and wrapped an arm around his waist. He heard Sara’s bowstring hum behind him. Caspan glanced down to see the second Roon fall face-first in the water.

  ‘How is he?’ Sara asked.

  Caspan cradled the man’s head against his shoulder. ‘He’s conscious, but he took a heavy hit. We’d better get him to Rivergate so someone can check him out.’

  Sara nodded. ‘We’ve finished here anyway. If that fire doesn’t stop the Roon, I don’t know what will.’

  Caspan was about to reply when the soldier’s hood rolled back, revealing their features. Caspan’s eyes flashed with surprise.

  ‘It’s a girl!’ he said, lifting a section of the plaid shawl from beneath her cloak. ‘And she’s wearing the tartan of a Stewart highlander!’

  CHAPTER 16

  THE ENEMY OF MY ENEMY

  As soon as Caspan and Sara returned to Rivergate, the girl was taken to a chamber in the keep. Two soldiers were posted inside the room to keep guard and a medic was summoned to tend to her injuries.

  The girl was quite an enigma and the topic of much discussion as the treasure hunters and Captain Jace waited in the makeshift war room for her to recover. They were intrigued as to why she had been running away from the Roon, who were meant to be her allies, and, as she appeared to be wearing the garb of a scout, how she’d been allowed to join the Caledonish army, which precluded women from military service. The most alarming thing though, was that this was the first sighting of a highlander this far west, and the companions wondered how many more Caledonish warriors were in the area.

  They didn’t have to wait long before there was a knock on the door and a sentry announced that the girl was ready to be questioned. They found her sitting up in bed, a bandage wrapped around her forehead. She glared at the soldiers keeping guard by the door and at the medic, who was tidying up on a side table.

  Before entering the room the treasure hunters and Captain Jace had agreed that Oswald should do the talking, believing he was the least threatening out of them all and that his calm demeanour would help settle the captive.

  ‘That was quite a knock you took to the head,’ Oswald said as he sat on the edge of the girl’s bed. He smiled reassuringly. The girl shuffled over to the far side and glowered at him. ‘I’m glad you’ve recovered.’

  The girl’s eyes narrowed defiantly. ‘What? So ye can torture me?’

  Oswald chuckled softly to himself. ‘Do I look like the torturing type, my dear? I’ve been called many things in my life, but never a torturer. Although, some of the initiates I’ve taught over the years may argue otherwise, saying I’ve tortured them to death with my boring lessons. But that’s a different matter altogether.’ He smoothed a rumpled section of his cloak. ‘I just want to ask you a few questions, that’s all.’

  The girl glared contemptuously at everyone in the room. ‘Then why do yer need so much backup? Donnae tell me yer afraid o’ a girl?’

  ‘It’s merely a precaution,’ Oswald replied calmly. ‘I’m sure you’d do exactly the same to us if we were your captives. And we’re hardly afraid, but very intrigued. You see, as far as
we knew, Roy Stewart’s forces were still in Caledon. So until we find out who you are and what you’re doing all the way out here, you might as well relax and tell us what we’d like to know. Then we can return you to your people.’

  The girl scowled and looked over at a jug on a nearby table. She licked her lips. ‘Give me a drink.’

  Oswald nodded, and Sara, who was closest to the table, filled a tankard and handed it to the highlander. The girl waited for Sara to step back before taking a sip.

  ‘So, do you have a name?’ Oswald asked.

  The highlander gulped down the cider and wiped her sleeve across her mouth. She stared boldly at the elderly treasure hunter, clearly with no intention of answering his question.

  Oswald shrugged. ‘Name or no name, we know you’re from the Stewart Clan.’

  The girl gave him a surprised look, then noticed Oswald was observing the tartan shawl beneath her cloak. She drew her cloak close together and glared at the treasure hunter.

  ‘An’ what o’ it?’

  Morgan pursed his lips. ‘As a matter of fact, it’s a great interest to us. As I said, according to our scouts, Roy Stewart’s army hasn’t moved from Sharn O’Kare Glen. So either you’re part of an advance unit – and most probably scouts, based on your green cloak and bow – sent to assist the Roon, or you’ve taken a very long stroll and got terribly lost.’

  The girl snorted contemptuously. ‘Save yer breath. Ye wonnae get a thing out o’ me.’

  Oswald clicked his tongue. ‘That’s a shame. I was hoping you’d tell us why the Roon were after you. It seems a strange way to treat an ally.’

  ‘Why donnae ye go an’ ask them?’ the captive returned.

  Oswald drew a patient breath. ‘I was at the Pass yesterday, but I didn’t see any Caledonish warriors. Did your company arrive after the fight?’