by Cas Peace
*****
Sullyan registered the women’s dive for cover as she closed with her targets. They separated and she smiled grimly. One would engage her left side, the other would attack her undefended right.
It was exactly what she wanted them to do.
A split second before reaching them, she barked, “Drum, right!” The huge warhorse, following hard on Darius’s tail, surged out from behind her and charged the man to her right, snaking his head and baring his teeth. The attack was so unexpected and Drum’s charge so viciously focused that it forced the brigand to leap violently aside. He swung his sword wildly, trying to hamstring the horse. Squealing with battle fury, Drum pursued him.
Sullyan knew that the big black would harry his quarry without getting close enough to be cut. His tactics would keep the man occupied until she could deal with him, although if the brigand tripped and fell beneath Drum’s hooves there would be nothing left to deal with. Turning her full attention to the swordsman on her left, she prayed that Darius’s training would prove sufficient to protect them both.
*****
Taran was finding his man a difficult opponent. The villain obviously had some experience fighting a mounted swordsman. He slashed at Thunder’s legs and underbelly whenever he had the chance. Fortunately, the bay was an experienced warhorse and danced aside.
Taran got in a few telling blows as Thunder carried him past. The stallion pivoted on his haunches and closed in again, the Adept seeing the beginnings of fear on his adversary’s face. The brigands had obviously planned a simple ambush against one armed guard and two women. Now they were facing two expert fighters and three dangerous horses. An easy morning’s work with the promise of rich rewards was fast becoming too costly.
When Taran next closed in, his opponent aimed a well-timed thrust which pierced the flesh of Taran’s upper arm just as the Adept leaned into his swing. But the move had left the man’s chest vulnerable and Taran’s stroke caught him across the ribs. While not life threatening, it was enough to dissuade him. With no help forthcoming from either of his fellows, the brigand turned and fled. Taran decided against pursuing him and looked to see if Sullyan needed help.
He needn’t have worried.
*****
She had already accounted for her first man, although it was a stumble by Darius that gave her the opening. Seeing her horse unbalanced, her opponent made the mistake of thinking she would be too. He was wrong. As he came on, Sullyan used Darius’s awkward forward momentum to run the man through. His shocked expression as he died might have been funny under other circumstances.
She engaged the last man, but his comrade’s fate had sapped his confidence and he was showing signs of desperation. She yelled at him to surrender but he refused. She was about to attempt to disarm him when a dark shape loomed behind him. Drum’s iron-shod forefeet came down on his head, ending his battle.
Once the noise had died away, Sullyan glanced at Taran, who asked, “Do you want me to go after the other one?”
She shook her head. “He will give us no more trouble.”
Dismounting from Darius, she gave the colt’s nose an approving rub. She was pleased with his behavior. After all, stumbling over a prominent tree root was one of the risks you ran when fighting in a forest.
She stooped over the man Drum had killed and sliced off a portion of his cloak. As she walked round the side of the coach, where pitiful sobs could still be heard, she used the cloth to clean her blade. “It is safe now, ladies,” she called. “The brigands are dead.”
One of the women looked up and caught sight of Sullyan’s bloody sword. She screamed, shrinking away with a horrified look as she pressed herself against the coach.
“Oh, stop it, Lily,” snapped the other woman. “If I’m not mistaken, we’ve just been rescued by the famed Colonel Sullyan. You’re certainly safe now.”
She turned to Sullyan, holding out a dainty hand. The hood of her cloak had fallen back, revealing the face of a young woman aged around twenty. She had small oval features, pale green eyes, and shoulder-length blonde hair. Beneath her fine quality wool cloak she wore an expensive-looking ruby velvet gown. Gold rings adorned her fingers and more gold glittered around her neck.
Sullyan briefly took her hand.
“My sincere thanks for coming to our rescue, Colonel. I am the Lady Jinella, and this is my maid, Lily. She’s very nervous, as you see, but a good maid for all that.”
“I am pleased we were able to assist you, my Lady,” replied Sullyan. “I take it you are both unhurt?”
Lady Jinella nodded. “Yes, thank you. We are only shocked and frightened. My uncle will be most grateful to you, although I think the safe return of his coach and gold will please him better than our good health!”
“Indeed?” said Sullyan tartly. “Then he is a fool.”
“No, Colonel,” smiled Jinella. “Just a miser.”
These disrespectful words brought a shocked gasp from the maid, Lily, and the younger woman snapped at her again.
“Gently, my Lady,” reproved Sullyan. “She has had a nasty shock. I dread to think what would have happened had we not been close enough to aid you. Give her time to recover her wits. Now, if you would help us round up the carriage horses, we will escort you into the city.”
Lady Jinella obviously wanted to protest being given such a menial task, but she couldn’t very well refuse. Leaving her maid clinging nervously to the door of the coach, she gingerly approached the nearest chestnut. It raised its head, allowing her to catch hold of the bridle.
Taran went to help her and she smiled gratefully. She let her eyes rove over his face, clearly liking what she saw.
“We haven’t been introduced,” she said, holding out her hand.
Taran took it, raising it gallantly to his lips as he told her his name. She blushed prettily, and then her gaze dropped to the blood staining the sleeve of his jacket. “Colonel,” she squealed, “your companion has been hurt!”
“It’s only a scratch,” protested Taran as Sullyan straightened from examining the dead guard. She came forward to inspect the wound. Taran had already used metaforce to stem the flow of blood, but the cut still stung and ached. Mercifully, the brigand’s sword had only pierced the muscle without slicing right through.
Ignoring his protests, Sullyan ordered him to strip off cloak, jacket, and shirt. Jinella openly admired his well-formed naked torso while Sullyan expended power to heal the wound further.
“Are you both Artesans, then?” Jinella asked, watching Sullyan work. The Colonel merely nodded, leaving Taran to dress once more. She went to check on the coachman while Taran and a speculative Jinella collected the other horses.
The coachman wasn’t dead, only stunned. The brigands had caught him a blow to the head with the flat of a blade and left him unconscious. Grateful that they had not been completely heartless, Sullyan attempted to revive the man. She had no desire to drive the coach herself as she feared other brigands might take advantage of their situation. Despite her ministrations and his own powers, Taran was not fully fit. If she could rouse the coachman, he would be very useful.
Once he had regained consciousness, Sullyan guided him back to the coach. Taran had located the spare harness leather that every prudent coachman carried and was re-hitching the team, watched with open admiration by the Lady Jinella. Noting the young woman’s interest, Sullyan regarded her through narrowed eyes, a small smile on her lips.
“Will you ride with the coachman, Taran?” she asked. “That arm needs rest and you can keep an eye on him at the same time. I will ride point.” She turned to Jinella. “My Lady, I am afraid that you and your maid will have company inside the coach.”
Jinella frowned. “Oh? Who?”
Sullyan indicated the dead guard and Jinella’s face fell.
Sullyan crossed to the dead Kingsman. She wrapped him in his bloodied cloak and laid his sword on his chest. With Taran taking his shoulders and she his feet, they managed to bundle him into
the coach. Taran’s wounded arm ached when the job was done.
The coachman had managed to reach the box and his hands were on the reins, but his eyes were wide and glazed. Taran climbed up beside him and spoke softly to him, trying to help him get over the shock. Jinella and Lily entered the coach. Lily, who was older than her mistress, closed her eyes and gave a small squeal when her foot touched the dead man. Jinella ignored him completely.
Sullyan mounted Darius, leaving the other two stallions loose. Taran nodded to the coachman and the team started forward at a stately pace, continuing its journey to Port Loxton.
Sullyan rode beside the coach, alert for trouble. After a while, the Lady Jinella pushed down the carriage window.
“Have you come for the fair, Colonel, or do you have business with the King?”
“Both, my Lady,” said Sullyan. “I am delivering this horse to the King. Elias intends to show him off at the fair tomorrow.”
Jinella clearly had no interest in horses, as her next question showed. “And will your companion, who so bravely defended us today, be attending the fair too?”
Sullyan wasn’t fooled, although she replied artlessly, avoiding the younger woman’s eyes. “I imagine so, my Lady, although it may be a little tedious for him if I am occupied with the King.”
There was a brief silence before Jinella said, “Does he have no one to escort? Surely someone so handsome has a sweetheart?”
Sullyan smiled privately. “Actually, no, my Lady. Captain Elijah is unattached.”
Jinella’s green eyes sparkled. “Unattached? How fortuitous! Well then, Colonel, do you think he might be persuaded to act as my escort? For I too am unattached and I must confess that today’s events have left me feeling rather nervous. I really don’t fancy walking through a crowded fair with only Lily beside me. How do you think he would feel if I asked him to be my protector?”
“I would not presume to speculate about Taran’s feelings, my Lady. I can only tell you that he is honest and gallant, and that he has a very well defined sense of honor. I think that if you put your request to him as eloquently as you have put it to me, Taran would find it hard to refuse.”
“Really?” murmured Jinella, her eyes narrowing. “Would he now?”
*****
The little party finally came in sight of Loxton’s walls. Taran could smell brine in the air and hear the raucous cries of seabirds. He was excited at the prospect of seeing the sea and a working port, something he had never experienced before.
The guards stationed at the Forest Gate acknowledged them, saluting Sullyan’s insignia and bowing to Lady Jinella as the coach rumbled into the city. Taran glanced over his shoulder to see the two loose warhorses still following closely behind.
The streets were thronging with people and the buildings were bedecked in festive bunting, slightly bedraggled after the heavy rain. The city’s outer precincts were mainly residential, with half-timbered, black and white houses overhanging the narrow streets. As the party neared the city center, houses gave way to craftsmen’s workshops, potters’ and tanners’ outlets, and shops selling all manner of foodstuffs. There was a curious mingling of odors that was not altogether pleasant, as brine coming in off the sea competed with the smells of cloth, leather, and food. Fascinating as it was, Taran was glad to leave this area as their party moved onto the main avenue leading to the castle.
The crowds faded away, as few people were heading for the castle. Apart from their party, the road contained only one or two members of the King’s Guard and a few noblemen out riding with their ladies. All took note of Jinella’s coach, but no one addressed them.
Taran knew that Port Loxton had grown up around Loxton Bay, a deep crescent cut into Albia’s western coastline below towering chalk cliffs. The wharves of the port marked the western boundary of the city proper, and Loxton Castle stood in its own park-like grounds to the east of the wharves. As the coach rolled up to the heavy castle gates, he could see the fortified structure itself at the end of a long, straight avenue bordered by trees. The city crowded close to the park’s stone walls to the east and south, but within the walls it was tranquil except for the area being readied for the fair. All manner of tents, booths, marquees, and stalls were being set up, and workmen and craftsmen were milling around, unloading their wares and claiming pitches, hoping for the best place to display their stock.
There was a contingent of guards at the castle gates. As the coach came to a halt, their Commander stepped onto the road. Sullyan nudged Darius toward him, her cloak thrown back to reveal her rank badges and battle honors.
The young officer, whose own insignia proclaimed him a Lieutenant-Major, came forward to speak with her. He was grinning broadly.
“Welcome to Port Loxton, Colonel Sullyan.”
He had a pleasant, good-natured face, dark brown eyes, a laughing mouth, and a mop of curly brown hair. He held out his hand and Sullyan, smiling warmly, leaned down to clasp it.
“Denny. It is good to see you again.”
“And you, Sullyan. The King told us to expect you, but he didn’t say you were riding escort. Where’s Hallian? I thought he was guarding this coach?”
“Captain Hallian met more trouble than he could handle,” she replied, sliding down Darius’s shoulder. “He is inside. I regret that we were too late to save him. The coachman was also injured and will need some attention. The ladies are safe, though. We were able to make sure of that.”
Denny peered in through the window. “So I see. I’m sure the Baron will be very pleased to have his precious… property… returned safe and sound.”
After nodding politely to Jinella, he said, “We’ll take over now, Colonel. One of my men will take charge of the coach and deliver the ladies safely to the castle. Fergus!”
As a second man approached, Taran climbed down from his perch. Lady Jinella leaned out of her window and called to him.
“Captain Elijah, please allow me to extend my warmest thanks for your brave and timely rescue today.” She gazed into Taran’s eyes, making him blush. “Especially as you were wounded in our service. I know that my uncle, the Baron, will want to recompense you. He will reward you handsomely for your trouble, I have no doubt of that.”
“Oh... er... there’s no need, my Lady,” stammered Taran. “The Colonel and I were happy to be of service.”
“Gallantly said, Captain,” she murmured.
Taran, who was unaccustomed to being addressed by his honorary rank, ducked his head. Jinella, however, wasn’t finished.
“This may be a little forward of me, but I have another favor to ask you.”
“Name it, my Lady,” he said, his chivalry causing a pretty flush to rise in her cheeks.
Her eyes demurely downcast, Jinella continued. “I must first speak with my uncle and gain his permission, but then, if I may, I will seek you out with my request.”
“I am at your service, my Lady,” replied Taran, puzzled.
Fergus, who had already climbed up beside the pale-faced coachman, clicked his tongue at the horses to start them up the avenue toward the castle. Jinella cast a backward glance out of the window and Taran stared after her before collecting his horse’s reins.
Sullyan didn’t miss Jinella’s self-satisfied smirk, or the brief wave she gave her before turning away.
Chapter Seven
The Lieutenant-Major had obviously found the exchange between Taran and Jinella highly amusing, as he was still grinning when he said, “You should seek out the Chamberlain. Lord Kinsey is expecting you. The garrison stablemaster will see to your horses.”
He put his hand to Darius’s nose and the young stallion snuffled it curiously. “So, this handsome fellow is the King’s new colt, eh? I hope you’ve trained him well, Colonel. Elias has great hopes for him in the race tomorrow.”
Sullyan swung onto the colt’s back. “The horse will not disappoint the King, Denny, but I might.”
His eyes widened. “Are you entering Drum? Gods, don’t put it abo
ut too widely just yet. Let me get good odds on you first!”
Sullyan was still laughing as she and Taran made their way up to the castle. They veered aside before reaching its walled courtyard. Riding around the western side of the wall, they came to the barracks. One of the men who were busy about the compound called for the stablemaster as Sullyan and Taran rode in. As they were loosening girths and removing their packs, he came up to them.
“So,” he said, according Sullyan a smart salute even as he was admiring Darius, “this is the King’s new colt?”
Sullyan had removed Darius’s light saddle and the stallion’s back wasn’t even damp. The stablemaster, an amiable young man who was clearly nothing like the Manor’s irascible Solet, ran his hands over the horse’s legs and picked up a front hoof.
“He’s a fine beast, Colonel. More bone than most of ours, more substance without the weight and, unless I’m much mistaken, more intelligence.”
“Indeed, Josh,” she said. “He should be a valuable addition to the King’s breeding herd. He needs a good rub down and a light feed. He saw combat this morning, which I did not intend, although he acquitted himself well. He took no hurt, but some cold water on those legs would not go amiss if Elias still intends to race him tomorrow.”
“Try to stop him,” said Josh, grinning as he took Darius’s bridle.
“Do the same for Drum, if you please,” she added, rubbing Darius’s nose in farewell. She turned to Taran. “What about you, Captain? Will you be entering the race?”
Surprised to be asked and puzzled by her use of his honorary rank, Taran shook his head.
“A pity,” she said. “I believe you would have at least one supporter cheering you on.”
He stared at her in silence and she turned back to Josh. “We will not need the bay again until we leave for the Manor with the King.”