by Guy Antibes
Trak would use his sword differently from the others. He silently rose to his feet. The moon had descended, and he tried to stretch his hearing to notice any other sounds in the darkness. To his left he heard the crack of a branch. To his right he heard the barest hint of a whisper in the cool night air.
Tembul appeared as if from nowhere at his side. Trak had to squint his eyes to make out where the Toryan pointed. He grabbed Tembul’s arm as he pointed.
Tembul nodded. “Close your eyes,” Trak whispered as he rose to his feet and struck a lightning pose. He pointed his sword in the direction that Tembul indicated, and after closing his own eyes, sent a pulse of lightning into the woods.
A scream shocked the woods into a cacophony of sounds. Birds squawked, and all of Trak’s friends jumped to their feet. An arrow flew past Trak’s shoulder. He set up a shield while Ben sent more pulses of fire into the woods.
Trak smiled at Ben’s use of pulses. Ben gave him a quick grin and then turned back to work. Neel and Rasia fled into the forest. Trak knew they would be fighting the intruders in their own way. His father still did not want to use his magic and trusted in his sword.
Honor stood, somewhat horrified, in shock from the early morning attack.
“Shield,” Trak said. She blinked in the light of Ben’s fireballs, but they stopped when Ben ran out of targets. Tembul leapt towards the burning timber and used his magic to quench the flames.
“That must be most, if not all of them,” Rasia said, breathing heavily when she stumbled back into camp. “We won’t know until daylight when we can follow their tracks.”
Tembul agreed. “Using light at night will only make us targets. Since we are awake, I suggest we stow our gear and find another camp a bit farther away from this one and return at daylight.”
Neel joined them shortly, with a bloody Kandannan in tow. “He speaks Santasian,” Neel said. “He says we got them all. A scouting party.” He smirked at Ben. “I used a truth pose on him.”
“Good!” Ben said.
“Their main force is just to our northeast. They recently moved out to join the rebels in their defense of Espozia. There are rumors that the Kandannans will move south to Kizru after Riotro has defeated the Loyalists.”
“Does he know—” Tembul said.
“Ask him yourself.” Neel threw the man down at Tembul’s feet. The scout sat patiently, looking up at his captors.
Tembul made his own truth pose. “How many troops are in the north?”
“I don’t know,” the man said. Trak could see the Kandannan thinking as he spoke.
“Be more specific,” Neel said.
The Toryan raised his hand. “I know how to interrogate.” He looked back down. “How many Kandannan troops and their allies are headed to Espozia?”
“Two armies.”
“Tell me the total number of men and women in the two armies.” Tembul said. Trak could hear the impatience in his voice.
“Six thousand.”
“How many are headed south towards Kizru?”
“None,” the captor said.
Tembul grimaced. “How many Kandannan troops and their allies are south of us in the Toryan forest lands on the east side of the mountains?”
The man pursed his lips, but the spell forced him to answer. “One to two thousand. We don’t know because of Toryan fighting and the South Pass closing.”
“How close are your countrymen?”
“Two or three leagues to the northeast.”
“Let’s go,” Neel said. “We’ll tie him up and leave him here.”
“Blindfold him,” Ben said in Santasian. “We don’t want him to follow us into the woods.”
“Good idea,” Honor said, pulling the scarf from her neck and tying it around the captor’s head.
Neel had already bound his hands, so they made quick work of trussing him up and made sounds as if they were walking into the woods, but silently returned and took off in their flyers. The man would never know which direction they went.
Honor led them in the dark, high above the trees. Trak shivered in the cold wind, but it was plain to see that the fires Honor had noticed days ago had shifted towards Espozia. The Kandannans were on the march, but they moved slowly.
The team spent two more days completing the funnel as best as they could before they returned to the northern forces of the Toryan army. An unhappy commander greeted them as they descended from their flyers.
“Were you successful?” the commander said. Trak’s Toryan understood that much of the man’s tirade.
Tembul looked sideways at Trak and Neel and stepped forward, speaking Toryan to the commander.
“He just told him about the change in the Kandannan army’s direction and that there may be only a thousand or so troops heading south,” Neel said.
The commander pursed his lips and replied to Tembul’s report. Neel’s eyes widened, and he tensed up, his fists clenching.
“Lenis has taken Able to Kizru, at the commander’s request, for asking too many questions,” Neel said. “The commander is not happy with us.”
Trak narrowed his eyes. “And I’m not happy with him,” he said quietly.
The commander glared at the both of them while Tembul seemed to be pleading Able’s case. The exchange continued for a bit and ended with the commander stalking back inside his tent. Tembul was asked to stay outside.
“Your friend is a hostage,” Tembul said. “He will remain in Kizru until you return with the princess. King Basiul had already given orders to have one of your friends taken to the capital. When given the opportunity, they took Able.”
Neel’s face grew red. “But that will take months, maybe a year or more.”
“He will be treated well, don’t worry,” Tembul said, but Trak had his doubts knowing the fractious nature of the nobles in Kizru. “There is nothing to be done at present.”
“Did I hear that the Toryan army is heading south?”
Tembul nodded. “Most of the force will set up a somewhat permanent camp at the bottom of the funnel. The rest will join with the southern army and rout the Kandannans. They will be annihilated if they can’t retreat through the Dianza Pass.”
“And your impressed Toryan brothers?” Trak said.
“Will be annihilated along with them if they raise their blades against our forces, but the commander promised to use the worry spell wherever possible. I’m not certain he will, but he should.”
Trak wondered if there were any redeeming qualities among the Toryans. “I want to go north,” Trak said. “I will fight for the Loyalists and find Valanna. I won’t go back to Kizru until then.”
Neel looked at Tembul, and then back at Trak. “What about Able?”
“He might be much safer in a jail cell than fighting the rebels,” Trak said.
“True,” Ben said. “I’m with you, Trak.”
Neel scowled and then gave his head a quick jerk up and down. “Better fighting for a real cause than sitting waiting for Kandannans to head around the funnel.”
“Or slaughtering the southern Kandannan army,” Rasia said. “What honor is there in that?”
“Honor’s here,” Honor said with a faint smile on her lips. “I will go north as well. Riotro is an evil man. The Toryans aren’t quite as nasty.”
“As nasty?” Tembul said.
“No.” Honor replied with anger in her eyes.
“It’s settled then. Will the commander let us go?” Neel said.
“He will if I go with you,” Tembul said.
“Are you willing to fight for a cause you aren’t a part of?”
The Toryan smiled. “Do you think Riotro won’t turn his Kandannan allies around and head south to conquer Kizru and then Colcan? He will, from everything you have told me and the rumors that the scout talked about.”
“He will,” Honor said.
The commander’s meeting had obviously ended when officers scurried out of his tent. He walked over to the group.
“We
are heading north,” Tembul said in Pestlan.
“You are headed with us to the bottom of your funnel.”
Tembul shook his head. “We can do more harrying the Kandannan troops as they head north. The Pestlans and Colcanans with me all feel that is where their honor lies.” Tembul looked sideways at Honor.
The commander ground his teeth. “You will have to take one more Toryan in case something happens to you.” The man rubbed his chin. “A western Toryan officer that you captured in the south has just arrived in my camp. I don’t want him poisoning my troops. You take him with you. His name is Sirul.”
“We will take him tomorrow morning when we leave. He will find us at the northern edge of the camp,” Tembul said.
The commander nodded and returned to his tent, and then he returned to the doorway. “It is your life if you don’t return to Kizru with the boy,” the commander said. “I care not about the rest.” He disappeared back into his tent.
“A death sentence?” Ben said to Tembul.
The Toryan shook his head in disgust. “What an empty threat. If I don’t go back to Kizru, who exactly is going to take my life?” He walked a few more paces and stopped, shaking his head again. “What an idiot!”
~
“How much magic do you really have?” Tembul asked Sirul, the western Toryan that Trak had first freed from the Kandannan compulsion spell at the southern pass.
“Moderate. I can do about fifteen poses.” Sirul shrugged his shoulders. “Others can do more, but I definitely have talent.”
Trak tried to follow the conversation in Toryan, but all he caught were words here and there and had to rely on Tembul’s translations.
“We can teach him to lift. How about shields? Can he shield us from the spell that makes us descend?” Trak said to Tembul.
“I believe so. We can try out his ability to create wind, but I doubt he can do so for very long.”
“At least he can protect a flyer,” Neel said. “That’s good enough for me.”
“Better than anything I can manage,” Rasia said.
“That depends on what you can manage,” Neel flashed a smile at the woman. “I’m sure you can manage many things better than Sirul.”
Rasia growled and began loading their piled gear into their flyers with her good arm.
“Prickly,” Neel whispered.
“I would be, too,” Honor said from behind her half-brother.
Neel winced and went over to apologize to Rasia and help her stow gear, as well.
“Obviously, Sirul will fly with me,” Tembul said. “Neel and Ben, Rasia, Trak, and Honor. Do we have any idea where we should be heading?”
“I’ll go with my sister and Rasia,” Neel said, wincing as he looked over at Rasia adjusting the load in her flyer. “Penance.”
Trak wished Able could join them, but that was tempered just a bit by Lenis’s absence. At least Tembul or Neel could work with Sirul on his fighting skills. Maybe he would know enough offensive spells to defend himself when they went north.
“Do you have any problems fighting the Kandannans?” Trak asked. “You might be up against one of your fellow Toryans.”
Sirul looked down at the ground, thinking. “What was that spell you used on me? Worry? I’ll use my magic to incapacitate, not to kill, if I can.”
Why didn’t Trak think of that? He could fight a different fight than just going out and killing people. All of their brainstorming before they left Kizru about how to use magic to fight armies had seemed fun to develop until they now would be facing the enemy and their activities could end up taking lives. Had he thought thoroughly enough? Trak shook his head, knowing that he hadn’t been. The guilt began to gnaw at him again.
How far could he broadcast the sleep spell? Is there another spell that could augment its effects? He’d have to think of that. If he couldn’t avoid taking life, maybe he could come up with ways to minimize the numbers.
They flew north. Honor’s flyer went ahead of the rest with Neel and Rasia looking out for signs of the Kandannan army. Six thousand people heading in the same direction would be hard to hide.
They caught up to the Kandannan forces just as the sun set. Neel motioned to the two following flyers to head down to a meadow a few hundred paces ahead of the road that the army had followed for the leagues.
Tembul now held maps that the Toryan leader had given him before they left and spread them out to study before the day’s light expired.
Trak looked down at the map of all of Santasia. He thought back to his lessons on battles and had to speak. “What if the Kandannans aren’t headed directly to Espozia? What if they suddenly turn east and slam into the Loyalist forces?” He looked at Ben. “Didn’t you say that Senior Dalistro and his General were going to go right up through the central plains of Santasia? If they are this far,” Trak pointed two-thirds of the way from Gorinza to the capital, “and we are here. Then the Kandannans can just march up their flank before they reach the Glazia River. One of us needs to tell the Loyalists about the Kandannan army.”
“But what about our mission to harry the rear end of the Kandannan column?” Sirul said after Tembul did the translating.
“What mission?” Trak said. “We are up here to help the Loyalists in any way that we can. This is our own mission, not Torya’s. Right Tembul?”
Tembul nodded. “You are correct. All that is required is that you and I return to Kizru to release Able and then leave with an expedition to Bennin.”
“Bennin? I want to go!” Sirul said. “The Princess is a cousin. She will trust me.”
“Death may await you in that far-off land,” Tembul said in all seriousness.
Sirul’s face changed from earnest to grim. “In a way, I died when the Kandannans sent me to fight you. My life is my own to throw away, now.”
Trak put his hand on Sirul’s shoulder. He couldn’t be more than a few years older than Trak. “Let’s make it so we all return to Kizru? No talk about dying and failure. What happens, happens along our way, but the goal is to make it to Espozia and then return south.”
They all nodded.
“So who should warn the Santasian Loyalists?” Tembul said.
Neel grit his teeth. “Ben and I. Rasia can’t speak a lick of Santasian, and the two women should travel together. That would mean Honor, Rasia and Trak on one flyer and Tembul and Sirul on the other. Ben and I can push two people on the flyer much easier than three, anyway.”
Trak didn’t want to lose both of his fathers from the team, but the choice was pretty obvious. “I’m glad I don’t have to give the news that the Toryans turned away from helping Santasia. We were the ones who plugged up the south pass, and the Kandannans are still free to enter from the north pass and head north. Kizru is protected and no one else.” He felt bitter about the actions of the Toryans, but with Sirul and Tembul now comprising half of the team, he had to hold his tongue and not say anything else.
“We leave tonight,” Neel said. “Ben?”
Trak’s former mentor nodded. “Travelling at night to get to the Loyalist army more quickly is worth losing sleep over, I’m afraid. Perhaps we can meet up again later.”
They all stood up from their circle around the map. Ben bent backwards to loosen his back. “I’ll provide a shield when necessary and, Neel, you propel.”
“I’ll let you lift us up into the air.”
“Happily,” Ben said as he began to help move Neel’s things to the flyer that he had shared with Trak.
Trak stood by as Ben and Neel lifted up towards the darkening sky and headed east, far above their heads. He realized that he had come to rely on Neel and Ben for moral support. Even Able had gone, leaving him with Tembul and Sirul, whom he didn’t know if he could trust, and Rasia and Honor. Of all of them, the only one he ever really felt comfortable around had taught him in a dance studio in Pestledown ages ago, at least what seemed like ages for a new eighteen-year-old.
He felt stripped bare and his confidence dipped. He tig
htened his hands into fists. He couldn’t lose sight of the fact that Able needed him to succeed.
~~~
Chapter Twenty-Two
~
The full moon couldn’t have come at a better time, Neel thought, as they flew east. Ben had tied himself to the post and laid down to rest once they were well underway. Neel let the flyer drift as he looked for a place to set the flyer down. He had to admit that he couldn’t go all night on his own. His joints had begun to ache while he maintained the wind pose.
He saw a small farmhouse far below. Perhaps they would have some food in the morning. He certainly wouldn’t be knocking on their door in the middle of the night. Not in the midst of a civil war. A stand of trees sheltered a pond and a small meadow that would be the perfect place to land and get some sleep and rest until the sun rose in a few hours.
Ben snored on the flyer, and Neel just threw the Colcanan’s blanket over him and found a place to nap close by.
~
“Get up.”
Neel felt the sharp tines of a pitchfork poking in his back. He obliged.
“What are you doing on my land?”
“I’m on my way to the Loyalist army.”
The man, who must own the farm, grunted. “You’ll never catch up to them on foot.” He withdrew his makeshift weapon.
“I agree,” Neel said, raising his hands in submission. “I have other means of transportation.”
The farmer looked around. “Did you drag that broken wagon all the way here?” he said when he caught sight of the edge of the flyer.
Neel chanced a laugh. “My partner currently sleeps on that ‘wagon’ as you call it. We are both magicians bringing information to Senior Dalistro and General Niamo. Do you know who those men are?”
“I’m a good Santasian, and that means I’m loyal to the Council. I know of the General. I’ve heard of the Dalistro fellow before. He helps run the Council in Espozia.”
“Ben!” Neel called out towards the flyer.