Savior

by Loren K. Jones

  Duke Arten rode forward, impatient at the delay. “I did, but we’ve received news from Lender’s Dale that has changed the direction of this war. Take me to your captain.”

  The Scout’s eyes went round as the duke spoke, and she unconsciously backed her horse away from him. Nodding, she cleared her throat several times before she managed to speak again.

  “This way, please, Your Majesty. Follow me, please.” She turned her horse but kept looking back over her shoulder at the men and women who followed her. After about twenty minutes of slow riding they reached a camp that had obviously just been erected. The sentries tried to stop the procession, but the Scout shouted the identity of those following her and continued on into the camp. As they neared the center of the camp, more and more men and women gathered around them. At the captain’s tent, they were met by a skeptical Laura Vadala.

  “Who claims to be the duke?” she shouted, and Arten and Naria rode forward, dismounting several feet away from her.

  “We do. Captain Vadala, there is grave news from Lender’s Dale. Is there somewhere private where we can have a conference?” Arten asked, looking into her eyes without blinking.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t know you. Do you have...”

  “Stow it, Laura. That’s Duke Arten and Duchess Naria,” Marta said from the back of her horse. “Get us indoors. This is really bad.”

  Captain Vadala took a moment to recognize Marta, then paled and went to one knee. “Forgive me Duke Arten. Duchess Naria. I didn’t know...”

  “Not now, Captain. We need to talk, not hear your apologies,” Naria said softly through tightly clenched teeth.

  Captain Vadala stood, nodding and gesturing for them to follow her into the tent. Arten didn’t bother with any preliminaries. “Captain, I know what you were hired to do. I helped arrange it. But there’s been a major development that is changing everything. Duchess Samantha and Duke Panit have been kidnapped by Frander and his forces. Our daughter and several of her friends are days ahead of us, riding hard to try and get her back. I want your command in the saddle at first light, making your best speed to Firedale. There should be a sizable force there to meet us.”

  “Duke Arten, forgive me, but did you say that your daughter was riding to the duke and duchess’ rescue?” Captain Vadala asked, her skepticism obvious.

  “Java was one of my Scouts, Laura. One of the best Scouts we ever had,” Marta said from beside the tent flap. “Duchess Samantha was her charge during the war, and she adopted her. Her fiancé was one of Randy Wilkinson’s Scouts, and she has a Master Mage and a ten-year veteran Archer with her as well. The four of them are a week ahead of us by now.” Marta paused to allow her former colleague to digest her words. “If one person could get her back, Java could. But I don’t think one person can, and we need to stop her before she gets herself killed.”

  “Marta, I hope you know what you’re talking about. Very well, Duke Arten, my command is at your disposal. Duke Senden’s orders put us under General Marston’s command. Until she says otherwise, we will assist you.” She bowed as the duke and duchess stood and left but signaled Marta to stay. “Explain.”

  Marta gave Laura a quick rundown on what she obviously did not know, all but laughing at her expression at times. “...So you see, Java is leading us all into Frander’s lands to rescue her daughter.”

  “Oh, shit, Marta. Is she really that good?” Laura asked, retrieving a glass of beer from her table.

  “Yes, she is. With Robin and Jah’Moke at her side, I would bet on Java against just about anyone,” Marta replied gravely. “But not against Frander’s entire army.”

  * * *

  Fifteen days of punishing riding brought Java and her friends to Firedale. Shair greeted her quietly in the compound, along with the few women Captain Rivers had left behind to guard their belongings.

  “Java, there’s been no further news. Merrit and her entire force are bypassing Lakeland and heading toward Glimmerrey.”

  Java nodded as she stripped Sugar’s tack and began rubbing her down. “Who do we have, Lieutenant?”

  Shair smiled at being called lieutenant again. “Not many women or men were available, Java. Only about two hundred. They are mostly our people or from the other companies, though there are some retired Guards as well.”

  Java nodded. “Anyone special?”

  Shair shook her head sadly. “No, no one special. I wish we had all the Scouts with us.”

  “I wish we had the triplets,” Jah’Moke put in from behind Java. “Those three may be pure trouble, but I think they’re going to be more trouble for Frander than us from now on.”

  Robin and Carlin nodded their agreement. Carlin stepped forward to face Shair. “How many Vandals and Thunderfeet do we have, Sir?”

  “Seventy Vandals, forty-three Thunderfeet. The rest are Firewalkers,” Shair said as she led them toward the Mess Hall. There were a lot of people in the compound, and Java was surprised to see children playing near the paddocks. Shair saw the direction of her gaze and cleared her throat to get her attention.

  “There are thirty farms within a day’s ride of here now, and we brought in all the farmer’s families. Not a lot by lowland standards, but they help feed us.”

  Java nodded and entered the Mess Hall, heading toward the serving line automatically. Shair smiled and followed her, even though it would have been more proper for them to go to the Officer’s Mess and be served. Java and Robin were greeted with surprise and enthusiasm by those who recognized them, and with wide-eyed awe by those who had never met a real princess before. Java remained calm and took her plate to a corner table. She was surprisingly relaxed, and felt at home for the first time in far too long.

  Jah’Moke saw Java relaxing and grinned. “It’s good to be back, even for a bad reason.”

  “Yes, it is,” Robin agreed. Carlin looked at her and smiled, but he kept quiet. He was too busy chewing to talk.

  “We have plans to make. Lieutenant, I’m going to need the best, most experienced women and men I can get to find and save Sam and Pan,” Java said around a mouth full of stew. “Will you come with us?”

  “Try and stop me,” Shair answered, pausing to clear her mouth before speaking. “I received a note from Andy saying that he is coming this way with five hundred Guards, and the Shepherdess. She’s the High Priestess of Lady Sahren. The rumors about his break with Lebawan were true.”

  Java smiled softly at the thought of seeing Ander again, then blushed when Jah’Moke looked at her. “Sorry. It’s good to know he’s no longer tied to that religion, Shair. Do you know when he’ll arrive?”

  “Soon, I hope. His letter was waiting for me when I got back from the wedding. We need to catch up with Merrit first and retrieve the triplets.” She paused to look closely at Java. “But first, you need to get some rest.”

  Java started to disagree but was interrupted by a yawn. “Ooohhh, damn. You’re right. We start tomorrow at first light.”

  Java and Jah’Moke accepted a room in the Officer’s Quarters, as did Robin and Carlin. Morning came far too early, and all of them were preparing to leave before the sun had topped the hills. Shair was in Scout Standard, as were Java and Jah’Moke. Robin had been quickly outfitted in camouflaged robes similar to the ones she had worn as a member of Java’s patrol. Carlin was the odd ball. He was a large man, and none of the Firewalker’s Scout gear came close to fitting him. A hurried conference was called to decide on a course of action. Java shook her head at the delay, but finally decided to ride to Vandalburg first. Their stores were the only place close by where a Scout uniform that might fit Carlin would be available.

  The party was met by Marsa Wilkinson, and she curtsied deeply when she recognized Java and Jah’Moke. “Yes, Princess, what may we do for you?”

  Java smiled deeply as she spoke. “Marsa, we need a set of Scout Standard for Carlin, if you can find any that big.”

  “Hey, I’m just big boned,” Carlin said indignantly.

 
; “And big in other places as well,” Robin commented, making him blush, much to the amusement of the women and those men who were close enough to hear. Marsa led them to the Supply building and ordered the issuance of the proper uniform as she questioned Java.

  “Are you going after Duchess Samantha, Princess? We heard that Lady Shair was collecting a force for the rescue.”

  “Yes, we are, but we’re going ahead on our own,” Java replied, fidgeting at the delay while Carlin’s uniform was hastily altered to fit him properly. “I want to get in there first and scout the terrain. I’m not sure that even the combined might of the three duchies can beat Frander in a head on encounter. If I can get Sammy back without sacrificing hundreds of lives, I will.”

  Marsa nodded but didn’t say anything more. She didn’t need to. She was far too aware that her husband and friends might be among those hundreds sacrificed. Carlin finally emerged properly dressed, and they departed. Jah’Moke took the lead, taking them along the backwoods tracks that he knew so well to avoid any surprises on the road.

  All five of them had packed saddlebags full of supplies in Firedale, but after two more weeks of hard travel they had to re-provision at one of the last towns in Lender’s Dale, a little hamlet called Hamner’s Ferry. Shair, as the eldest and most obvious leader, bargained with the owner of the only store for supplies, carefully not giving any details about who they were or what their mission was beyond catching General Marston.

  They received news as well. Merrit had led her force all the way through Lakeland, bulling through any resistance that Frander’s forces offered with reckless disregard for her fighters. Casualties were high, but no one was complaining. Too many of the fighters had known Samantha personally to back down.

  Java was checking Sugar’s tack when a young man approached her. “Excuse me, please, but aren’t you Princess Java?” he asked softly, fearing to be overheard and ridiculed for making such a ridiculous suggestion.

  Java looked at him, trying to place the face, but failing. “And you are? I don’t recognize you.”

  “Tad Cahill, Princess,” the boy said, bobbing a quick bow. “I saw you at the Green Dragon in Brian’s Ford, when you was with the duchess. Are you going after her yourself?”

  Java nodded. “We don’t want to make a fuss, Tad.”

  Tad shook his head, then nodded. “No, Princess, I just...Can I join you? I’m a good fighter, really.”

  Java looked at him, then shook her head. He looked like he was fourteen or fifteen, as old as she had been when she ran off to join the Firewalkers. “No, Tad, I’m sorry. The five of us are all experienced Scouts. You would only be in the way or get yourself killed. I can’t allow that.”

  Tad nodded and walked away but stopped to glance over his shoulder. “I won’t tell anyone you’re here, Princess.”

  Java nodded and watched him walk away. Jah’Moke watched as well, then approached Java. “We need to be more careful, Java.”

  “I know. I didn’t think anyone would recognize me out here.”

  Robin looked over Spice’s back as she said, “Then you shouldn’t have dressed like yourself, Java. If you’d worn one of your dress uniforms, no one would know who you are. Just about everyone who saw you in Lender’s Dale saw you in Scout Standard.”

  Java nodded as her face pulled into a sour grimace. “Well, it can’t be undone.” Shair joined them then and distributed the supplies. “How far behind are we, Sir?”

  “A week or more. Merrit is pushing hard, but an army is still slower than we are. We should catch her before she reaches Glimmerrey.”

  The four younger members of the group nodded and mounted their horses without further comment and left Hamner’s Ferry on the road to Glimmerrey.

  * * *

  Mesta was on patrol south of the army when she spotted the group riding up the road. She circled in for a look before challenging them, but burst out shouting when she recognized Shair, then Java and Robin.

  “Java, what are you doing here? Does the duke know you’re out here?” she shouted as she rode up to claim hugs all around.

  Java laughed. “Yes, he knows. He doesn’t approve, of course, but he knows. Arten and Naria are leading the Hiddendell Royal Guard and as many others as they can muster to get Sammy back.”

  “Himself? And with the duchess too?” Mesta asked, grinning. “You’re having a bad influence on your parents, Java.”

  Shair laughed at that. “How far out are we, Scout?”

  Mesta immediately came to attention in her saddle. “Not too far, Sir. I’m on my return leg.”

  “Then we’ll join you. Do you know Carlin?” Java asked, and at Mesta’s negative shake of the head, she was introduced. “Robin and Carlin have been making a spectacle of themselves.”

  The others laughed while Robin and Carlin frowned, then they spread into formation with Mesta and Shair leading, just like old times. For Java at least. The army was just making camp when they arrived, and Mesta was immediately challenged. That challenge turned to joy as she introduced the others.

  “Where is General Marston?” Shair asked, and they were immediately escorted to the command tent.

  A runner had gone ahead to announce the visitors, and Merrit was waiting for them outside the tent, along with Anness and the other former Firewalkers who formed the core of the Lender’s Dale Guard. Java made it to the ground before the triplets hit her, hugging her fiercely before backing away and looking into her eyes.

  “We’ve been trying, but we can’t find her.”

  “We will, girls. We will.”

  Merrit and Anness were next, each hugging her tightly and kissing her cheeks before backing away. “We’ve been running into light opposition, Java. It’s as if this was all just a diversion to get to Sammy.” There was a sadness shadowing Java’s mentors, and she knew exactly what it was. We will avenge them. We will avenge all Frander’s victims.

  Java nodded and allowed herself to be led into the tent. “How far are we from Glimmerrey, Sir?”

  “Not far, Java. Not far at all.”

  * * *

  Frander’s most trusted generals had personally led the raid on Morrisdale to capture Samantha and Panit. Six Adepts, each a major power in his own right, had led their men with the sole intention of capturing Samantha alive. She and her duchy had dealt Frander his first defeat, and he was perplexed as to how she had done it. No one had ever defeated him before. No one had ever really tried. The six generals had surrounded and captured Sam and Pan as they fought to protect the farm, marveling at just how easy it was. This is the leader who had inspired her people to rise up and overthrow Frander’s control? None of them could truly believe it, but Frander’s word was law.

  Disposing of everyone else in the capital they7 could find, the generals took their prisoners directly to the emperor for questioning. Emperor Frander looked down from his throne at the two pitiful children who knelt before him.

  “How is it that you were able to defeat me? What magic do you possess that I do not?”

  “We defeated you because we’re free, you pig!” Samantha shouted, glaring at Frander with such venom that he was actually uncomfortable facing her. “We are not your slaves!”

  Frander looked at Samantha with a deeply troubled expression. “I do not understand this. I offer you the best world, and you defy me. Under my care you would prosper without the strife and hardship that rules so much of your...”

  “Under your rule we’re slaves, bound to your Magi like sheep!” Samantha shouted, interrupting the great emperor for the first time in years, much to his displeasure.

  “That will be enough of that, child.” Signaling over his shoulder, he called for the control brooches he had specially made for the young duchess and her husband.

  “You will be more amenable with your temper properly contained.” Both Samantha and Panit fought, but neither was a match for the mighty muscles and iron resolve of the controlled men who held them. As the brooches settled about their necks they q
uieted.

  “There, that’s better. Now, again: How did you defeat me?”

  Samantha fought against the compulsion but heard herself telling the truth anyway. “Java defeated you. Java made it possible to weld the duchies into a force with the will and strength to drive you out of Lender’s Dale.”

  “Java, as in Princess Java of Hiddendell? Yes, I’ve heard of her. I’m quite impressed that she’s managed to avoid the men I sent to capture her, but I cannot believe she is such a driving force that she could inspire my defeat.”

  “Java can inspire many things,” Panit said softly, speaking the truth.

  Samantha and Panit were placed in service to Emperor Frander. They joined the former dukes, duchesses, princes, and princesses of the duchies that Frander had conquered as his personal servants, seeing to his every need, and under his direct control. No other will directed those closest to Frander. Samantha found herself disgusted and repulsed by the Emperor. He had been a large man to begin with, but years of indulging his every whim had left him immensely fat, and bald as well. To Sam, he looked like a large boar hog wallowing in his own filth.

  Samantha and Panit seldom saw each other, and never spoke. For the newlywed couple, it was sheer torture. Samantha kept her spirits up as well as she could. Java will come. Java will rescue me again. Java will make it right. But there was also a little voice in the back of her head that said, Not even Java can save me from this mess.

  News of Merrit’s advance was relayed to Frander and his generals, and they began laying plans for her defeat. After all, the duchess who had led the opposing army to victory was now theirs.

  * * *

  Java spent three days with Merrit before heading out after Samantha. She led Jah’Moke, Robin, Carlin, Shair, the triplets, and all the Scouts from all the assembled commands. Thirty-seven men and women rode as silently as the breeze through the forest, avoiding the roads and towns when possible, passing in the night when there was no other way. Ari and Mesta were on point, riding ahead to scout the best path for the rest of the force to follow. Robin and the triplets scanned as unobtrusively as they could for Frander’s forces but found only minor Magi and the controlled people of the duchy as they passed, never any fighters. Robin began more aggressive scans, but still couldn’t detect anyone but the commoners. Even the Magi they encountered were no more than Journeymen.