The afternoon seemed to crawl by so slowly that Wilam was forced to sit and wait just to keep from giving the false impression that he was nervous. He wasn’t worried-just anxious to see his plans come to fruition. He had considered every variable and he was prepared for anything that King Zorlan might try. He had divided his small cavalry so that there was a century of horsemen on either flank. A century was a rather small number of light horses, but Wilam knew the cavalry could outmaneuver any force sent to attack from the rear.
All he had to do now as wait. The archers waited at their posts and the soldiers lounged across the field of battle as they waited. Servants worked tirelessly to ensure that every man had plenty of food and water as the sun began to set. Finally, as the sky turned red and a steward set about preparing a table for Wilam’s own supper, he saw the dust cloud in the distance. The troops themselves were hard to see, but Wilam saw the evidence he had been waiting for. They would meet in battle shortly after dawn the next day. His destiny awaited.
“Sir, your supper is ready,” the steward said.
Wilam sat and ate with gusto. There was a steady stream of scouts coming up to give reports. The enemy had spread out and made camp. There were even reports of skirmishes among the scouts. Exact numbers were sketchy, but the enemy was reported to number around 4,000 with a full legion of cavalry. The horse breeders in Falxis were renowned among the Five Kingdoms for producing excellent horses, but they were not warriors. Falxis alone among the Five Kingdoms had no enemies. Yelsia, Baskla, and Ortis were forced to guard their borders from violent neighbors, and Osla dealt with pirates and raiders on a regular basis, but Falxis was surrounded and protected by the other kingdoms. The closest other nations were the small, indigenous tribes of Tooga Island, but they were not seafaring people and did not cross the ocean to raid the shores of Falxis.
In Wilam’s mind, Falxis’ years of peace and prosperity had made them soft. King Zorlan was marching to war, but Wilam doubted the weak willed king was really prepared for it. He had been driven from Yelsia, and now he would be driven from Osla.
The night came with a thousand stars in the heavens and thousands of small fires in the camps below Wilam and across the plain. He knew sleep was not an option, and so he waited until late into the night and then sent for General Trevis.
“You sent for me, sir?” said Trevis. The man had not been sleeping, but his eyes were sunken and his face lined with fatigue.
“Yes,” said Wilam. “I’m making a slight adjustment to our plan. Pick the best leader you have in your legion and send him with three centuries to the east. I want them to circle around the enemy, just out of sight. Tell them to watch for a flaming arrow, which will be their signal to harass the enemy. I don’t want them to fully engage. I want them to attack and withdraw, over and over. Have them hit any weak spots they see, but tell them not to worry about causing serious harm.”
“Are you certain, sir?”
“Don’t question my orders, General,” Wilam said angrily. “Do as I say or I’ll have you removed.”
“Aye, sir, I’ll do it now.”
“See that you do. I want those centuries moving quietly, and I want them out of sight before dawn. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good,” Wilam said, dismissing the man with a wave of his hand.
As the night came to a close, Wilam felt a knot of nervous tension in his stomach. He knew he needed to relax, but he didn’t see how that would happen. He no longer cared about any woman but Gwendolyn, and she was far away in the Grand City. He hoped that soon he would be marching back to her victorious, but just the thought of seeing his queen again filled Prince Wilam with nervous energy. He couldn’t sleep and he didn’t want to dull his senses with strong drink, so he forced himself to sit in his command tower and wait for dawn.
He stood to his feet as the sun came up and his troops began to prepare themselves for the battle. He could see them strapping on armor and checking their weapons. As much as Wilam felt anxious for the battle to begin, he also knew that it was better to let the enemy come to fight on the ground he had chosen. His men had been drilling on that ground long enough to know it well. It was one more advantage they had over King Zorlan’s forces.
A slow hour passed, then another with no sign of the invaders doing anything. Scouts reported the enemy forces preparing for battle, but there was no sense of urgency. Wilam finally could wait no longer.
“Saddle my horse,” he bellowed. “Send for the generals.”
There was flurry of activity around the tower. When Zollin descended he found his horse saddled and ready, his generals mounted and waiting on him. He climbed into the saddle and rode away without a word, the generals following behind.
Wilam rode through the ranks, eyeing his troops critically, and was pleased to find them ready for battle. He turned when he reached the front lines and began shouting. “Men, our enemy waits out there,” he said, pointing with his sword in the direction of the invading army. “They are slow to action because they are afraid. We have every advantage on this field of battle and we will make them pay with their life’s blood for engaging us. We fight for the Queen of the Sea. We fight for our Lady Gwendolyn. We will show her our valor and bring her glory, and then we shall reap our rewards.”
The soldiers shouted. Wilam had no doubt that each man envisioned his reward in Lady Gwendolyn’s bed, but if it motivated them, he saw no harm in it. He would harness that desire and use it to give his queen the Five Kingdoms, then he knew she could no longer deny him.
Prince Wilam turned his horse and rode out across the plain, followed by his generals. He could hear the cheering of his men and it gave him a sense of pride and excitement. When they came within sight of the invading army they stopped and waited. General Trevis raised Lady Gwendolyn’s flag, which had been designed by tailor while they were still in Lodenhime. It was outline of a woman in gold on a background of sea green.
They waited several moments, no one talking, just watching their enemy. Finally, one of the generals spoke.
“What is taking them so long? Surely they were ready for battle?”
“They are afraid,” General Trevis said.
“If they fear to engage us, why invade Osla?” the first man asked again.
“They aren’t afraid,” Prince Wilam said. “It’s a tactic. By making us wait they try our nerves and, at least in their own minds, elevate themselves. Don’t underestimate your opponent, gentlemen. Prepare for every possibility, even if you feel certain you know what the enemy will do. If you are prepared for every thing they might do, then nothing they actually do will daunt you.”
“I don’t like waiting,” said another general. “We’ve lost the element of surprise. We should attack. They’re obviously using this time to prepare their troops.”
“That’s exactly what they want us to do,” Prince Wilam said. “By attacking them, we forfeit all our advantages.”
“But they’re unprepared,” the general said. “We could crush them if we attack.”
“Are you certain of that? Are you sure it’s not a tactic to lure us into engaging them? We cannot know, but we do know the ground we have selected and the maneuvers we have drilled these last several days. You don’t throw that all away because you’re nervous, general.”
The chastised general fell silent and they continued waiting. It was almost half an hour before King Zorlan appeared with a much larger retinue of men. They rode horses that seemed to prance rather than walk, lifting their feet high with each step and bobbing their heads. They all wore brightly polished armor and weapons. One held the flag of Flaxis, another the flag of Osla. They spread out in a line facing Prince Wilam and his generals.
“Prince Wilam,” King Zorlan said in a haughty voice. “I am surprised to see you here. I heard you fled north after you were convicted of harboring a wizard and spying on your fellow ambassadors in the Grand City.”
“Turn your army back to Falxis,” Prince
Wilam said menacingly, “and perhaps the Queen of the Sea will let you live.”
“Ah, you are referring to the witch from Lodenhime?” Zorlan said. “As I recall, Lodenhime is my sovereign possession, which makes her my possession too.”
“The queen belongs to no one, especially not a pompous fool like you.”
“Well, that’s to be determined. For now, I request that you march your army back to Ortis, or that King Oveer does. Where is the good king? I prefer to converse with equals.”
“A worm is superior to you, Zorlan,” Wilam sneered. “Do not bother us with questions or demands. Surrender or be destroyed. You have no rights here.”
“On the contrary. I am leading the Olsan troops home. It is you, my young upstart, who has no rights. You are invaders and usurpers. You have broken faith with your fellows and I must insist that you stand trial for your crimes.”
“I’m glad you’ve shown your hand, Zorlan. You always were a pompous windbag. We shall await you on the field of battle. Then you shall know our quality. We value actions, not words.”
Prince Wilam didn’t wait for a reply. He turned his horse and rode away. The generals hesitated only for a moment, watching King Zorlan’s men to ensure they wouldn’t be attacked from the rear. Then they too turned and followed Prince Wilam.
“What did that accomplish?” General Trevis asked when the generals had come even with Prince Wilam again.
“Nothing of merit,” Wilam said. “But I was anxious to find out who exactly we were facing. I did not see King Belphan or any of his generals, so the rumors must be true.”
“King Belphan was killed, you mean?” asked one of the generals.
“Yes, and his generals too, or so it would seem. The good King Zorlan has some gumption then, but he seems like the same fawning imbecile I took him for in Falxis. He is weak willed, but greedy for more power. I don’t think he expected to face an army led by warriors. He’ll be even more hesitant now, fearful and probably second-guessing every decision he makes. I want scouts out beyond the flanks of our forces. I wouldn’t put it past the coward to try and go around us without fighting.”
“And if he does?” Trevis asked.
“Then we’ll be forced to destroy him.”
Chapter 20
Eustice finally arrived late the following day. Zollin had begun to worry about the mute servant, but he came riding merrily into the camp they had constructed near the broken down well and burned cottage. Nycoll had gotten more comfortable with Zollin and Brianna after the dragons had gone hunting. The great beasts slept out in the bright sunshine during the days and roamed through the countryside at night hunting.
No one else came by, and Nycoll, unaccustomed to visitors, was slow to join the group. But by the time Eustice arrived she was sitting with the others, adding an occasional comment and even laughing at Mansel’s jokes. Brianna had tried to bond with Nycoll, who was only ten years older than Brianna-although she seemed much older than that-but Nycoll kept her distance. It was obvious to Zollin that Nycoll couldn’t journey far with them. They would have to find a safe place to leave her while they continued on. He wasn’t looking forward to bringing the subject up with Mansel, but he knew he would have to do it sooner or later.
Once Eustice arrived with the spare horses and provisions, they made plans to break camp the next morning. That night, Brianna said her good-byes and took her pride back into the sky. Her task was to scout the situation south of them and then report back. The others slept through the night and then set out at dawn. There was now one horse for each of them and two packhorses, although their supplies were dwindling quickly. The sun was bright and there was a pleasant breeze blowing in off the ocean, making the ride pleasurable for everyone except Nycoll. She had spent the last decade of her life in the little cottage, and although Mansel had left a horse with her when he had been pursuing Prince Wilam, the horse had been lame and was traded in the local village not long after Mansel had left.
They rode for an hour, then stopped to stretch their legs. Zollin offered to help Nycoll, but she refused. He guessed that by the end of the day she would be sore enough to allow him to help, but he didn’t want to force her to do anything. She was a cautious person, and Zollin understood why. She had experienced heart-wrenching loss, and he respected the pain she felt, as well as the boundaries she had erected to protect herself.
“Thanks for offering to help,” Mansel said quietly to Zollin as they walked their horses for bit. They were far enough ahead of Eustice and Nycoll, who seemed to like the eunuch almost as much as she liked Mansel. “She’ll come around eventually.”
“I’m not worried about it,” Zollin said. “But you know she isn’t strong enough to stay with us.”
“She’s stronger than you think,” Mansel said defensively. “She’s lived alone in that cottage for years, fending for herself. You don’t know her like I do.”
“I agree, and I’m not trying to say anything about her character. I just don’t think it’s right for us to drag her into a war, not if we can help it.”
Mansel thought about what Zollin was saying for a minute. Part of him was angry that anyone would suggest that Nycoll wasn’t strong enough to do something, but part of him agreed with Zollin wholeheartedly. The last thing he wanted was to drag her into a dangerous situation where she might be hurt. On the other hand, he was loath to leave her behind. They had found her in the nick of time. A few more hours in the water and she might have died. It was a wonder she hadn’t drowned when the tide rose.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Mansel said.
“I’m not going to do anything you and Nycoll don’t agree with,” he explained. “But I was hoping we might find a place to leave her. You could stay with her too,” Zollin added quickly. “Or Eustice. I’m not trying to get rid of her, even if it seems that way. I only want to protect her. There’s really no need for you to stay with me. Between my magic and Brianna’s pride, there isn’t much you can do.”
“Never underestimate the value of good steel and someone who knows how to use it,” Mansel said. “Your father taught me that.”
“It’s good advice,” Zollin said. “You tell me what you want to do.”
Mansel thought for a few minutes before speaking. “I guess you’re right,” he finally admitted. “I just don’t like the thought of leaving her behind.”
“So, stay with her.”
“I don’t like the thought of leaving you behind either,” Mansel said, smiling.
“Let me ask you a serious question then. Are you coming along because you feel you owe me something? Because you really don’t. Killing Kelvich wasn’t your fault. You weren’t acting on your own mental powers.”
“I know, but that doesn’t make the responsibility any easier to bear. I took a man’s life, a man who had never harmed us and who had helped us a great deal. That’s something I don’t think I’ll ever be free of.”
“He wouldn’t want you to suffer,” Zollin said. “You didn’t know him like I did. He wasn’t proud of a lot of things he had done in his lifetime either. He knew what it was to feel remorse. I don’t think he would want you to live with guilt over his death.”
“But I do, Zollin. I want to help you, and I want to stay with Nycoll. Hell, I even want to bust some heads just because I like to, but the honest truth is, I feel like I have to do something to redeem myself.”
“You don’t, I forgive you. I’m sure Kelvich would too.”
“But I can’t forgive myself,” he said quietly.
Zollin didn’t respond at once. He knew self-forgiveness was difficult. He had struggled personally with the death of his mother, even though he was just an infant and his father had told him many times it wasn’t his fault. Still, the guilt plagued him all through his childhood, every time he missed her, or every time he saw the pain of loneliness in his father’s eyes.
“Well, I’ve got your back, whatever you decide to do,” Zollin finally said.
“I appre
ciate that,” Mansel said, looking Zollin in the eyes as he spoke. “Your family has been better to me than I deserve. Better than my own family ever was.”
“You will always have a friend in me,” Zollin said. “And I know my father loves you like a son.”
Mansel smiled. “I wish Quinn were here now,” he said. “I could use a good pep talk.”
“Well, I’m not Quinn, but I think you know what you need to do. You just need to give yourself permission to do it.”
They rode through the day, and made camp at sunset. The small villages along the coast were leery of anyone they didn’t know after the army’s foul treatment. Their winter stores had all been taken. The men who weren’t drafted into service or killed outright were busy fishing or rebuilding homes-many of which had been burned to the ground. No one had food to sell or time to bother with strangers, so Zollin and Mansel chose a secluded spot surrounded by tall sea dunes. Zollin made a fire and then saw to the horses while Eustice prepared supper. Mansel looked after Nycoll who never complained, but was obviously very saddle sore. She still refused to let Zollin heal her, so after he had seen to the horses he began transmuting some of the stones he found around their campsite to gold. It was long, tedious work, but it kept him busy and gave Mansel and Nycoll some privacy.
The next day, he gave the gold to Mansel.
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