Blood of the Earth (Sovereign of the Seven Isles: Book Four)

by David A. Wells

  Anatoly held his tongue, but he obviously didn’t relish the idea of a ride on Kallistos. Abigail just grinned as he grumbled while strapping himself into her saddle. Conner strapped in behind Knight Raja, and the two wyverns lifted off. Abigail had become used to flying and even found it exhilarating, but Anatoly had never been in the air before and his nervousness showed in his death grip on the saddle.

  The air was crisp and the sky was clear as they flew toward the Iron Oak Forest and the camp of refugees hiding under its canopy. It took several hours to reach the forest and then another hour to locate the camp. Tens of thousands of people were busy building fortifications and homes under the sheltering branches of the giant trees. Abigail made a low pass and dropped her message. She’d written a letter, sealed it in wax with the butt of the Thinblade, and put it in a small pouch with a stone.

  As they flew over, alarms began to sound within the camp and warning fires were lit, signaling other parts of the sprawling camp that danger was near. Abigail gained altitude, wheeling toward the bare hillock she’d chosen for their meeting place. The scouts had provided her with a detailed description of the area, including several spots that were open enough to land a wyvern.

  Anatoly heaved a sigh of relief when his feet hit the ground.

  “That just isn’t natural,” he muttered.

  “Maybe not, but it’s a lot faster than horses,” Abigail said with a smile, patting Kallistos on the side of his giant jaw.

  Knight Raja and a slightly shaken Conner approached.

  “That was terrifying and strangely exciting at the same time,” Conner said. “I have half a mind to apply for Sky Knight training, although I suspect my father would forbid it.”

  “You never know,” Abigail said. “Abel is a reasonable man. He might see the value of it.”

  Anatoly shook his head and muttered, “If the Maker wanted us to fly, he’d have given us wings.”

  Abigail and Knight Raja chuckled.

  “How long do you think they’ll be?” Conner asked.

  “Probably an hour or so,” Abigail said. “We’re a ways from their camp and they’ll want to send a sizable force to meet us in case we’re unfriendly.”

  “Are you sure we can trust these people?” Anatoly asked.

  “I’ve known Torin and Lacy since we were children,” Conner said. “Our fathers saw to it that our families spent time together to cement the bond of friendship between Ithilian and Fellenden.”

  Nearly an hour later, a hundred men armed with bows and spears stepped out of the forest all at once, completely surrounding the hillock. Anatoly twitched but refrained from spinning his axe up into his hands. Abigail held her ground and waited.

  Three men warily approached while the rest maintained a cordon around the hillock.

  “Surrender your weapons,” the lead man commanded.

  Abigail smiled tightly. “No,” she said. “We’re not your enemies. We only wish to speak to your leaders.”

  “You’re surrounded and outnumbered,” the lead man said, glancing nervously at Kallistos. “Surrender your weapons.”

  “No,” Abigail said again, this time with a bit more edge in her voice. “We’re here to offer an alliance against Zuhl. I have an army of ten legions marching against him as we speak. We are your allies.”

  “I don’t believe you,” he said. “It’s far more likely that you’re in league with Zuhl.”

  Conner stepped forward. “I’m Conner Ithilian. Is Torin or Lacy Fellenden among your leaders?”

  “Prince Torin is the commander of our forces,” the lead man said. “I’m acting under his orders.”

  “Very well then,” Conner said. “Take us to him. You have enough men to overpower us so it won’t be necessary to disarm us. Torin and I are friends. He’ll understand once we have a chance to speak with him.”

  “No, you will not be permitted to leave this hilltop unless you relinquish your weapons.”

  “Then send word to Torin that I’ve come to speak with him,” Conner said. “We’ll wait.”

  The lead man conferred with his subordinates before they agreed.

  “It will be some time before Prince Torin arrives,” he said. “Do not attempt to leave.”

  “We’re not going anywhere,” Abigail said as she unhooked her pack from her saddle. They ate lunch while they waited under the wary eye of Torin’s soldiers.

  Two hours later Torin and a dozen bodyguards emerged from the forest. He was cautious at first, but broke into a broad smile when he saw Conner.

  “It’s good to see a friendly face,” Torin said. “I take it Lacy made it through.”

  “No,” Conner said. “We heard a report that she was coming to Ithilian, but she never arrived.”

  Torin’s face went white and he closed his eyes in pain. His family was gone. He and Lacy were all that remained of their line.

  “I’m sorry, Torin,” Conner said. “It’s possible that she just couldn’t get through.”

  Torin swallowed hard and set aside his worry for his sister.

  “There’s nothing we can do about it right now,” he said after he composed himself. “Who are your friends?”

  “Prince Torin, this is Queen Abigail Ruatha; her champion, Master Grace; and her wing rider, Knight Raja,” Conner said.

  “I’ve heard rumors that the throne of Ruatha has been reclaimed by one called Alexander,” Torin said. “Is he your husband?”

  Abigail smiled. “No, he’s my brother.”

  Torin frowned. “I don’t understand. How are you queen if he is king?”

  “He’s abdicated the Ruathan throne so that he can fulfill his duty as the Reishi Sovereign,” Abigail said.

  Torin tensed, looking around quickly as if he’d walked into a trap.

  “The Reishi are the ancient enemy,” he said.

  “They’re our enemy as well,” Abigail said. “Phane Reishi is waging war against us on Ruatha. My brother is leading the fight against him.”

  “I still don’t understand,” Torin said. “How can your brother be Lord Reishi if he’s Ruathan? And why would he fight against his own house?”

  “Apparently, the Reishi are a branch of the Ruathan line,” Abigail said. “When Alexander recovered the Sovereign Stone, it bonded to him; hence, he has become Lord Reishi. As for fighting against his own house, he serves the Old Law—Phane does not.”

  “The Sovereign Stone has returned to the world?” Torin said. “You bring dire news. The Reishi are widely reviled on Fellenden for the destruction they caused during the war. How can I trust you, knowing that you’re part of that family?”

  “Because I say you can,” Conner said. “Lord Reishi came to Ithilian while his home was under attack. When he learned that Phane had abducted Evelyn, he set out to return her to us. Without his help my sister would be dead or still in our enemy’s hands. I’ve stood with Lord Reishi in battle. I trust him with my life and I count him as a friend.”

  “Your word carries weight with me,” Torin said, “but I’ll need more to convince the others.”

  “We’ve come with an army of ten legions,” Abigail said. “Ruatha is under attack even now by Andalian Lancers acting on Phane’s behalf and yet Alexander chose to send the bulk of his army to Fellenden. We’re marching against Zuhl’s shipyard because the Seven Isles will fall to him if he’s permitted to build an Iron Oak navy, but more than that, Alexander looked upon the suffering of your people and chose to help you. We’re natural allies, Torin. We have the same enemies and the same desire to live in a world free of tyranny and war.”

  “How is this possible?” Torin asked. “How did you move so many men so far so quickly?”

  “We came through the Reishi Gate,” Abigail said.

  “It’s true then,” Torin said. “We believed that Zuhl’s army came through the Gate. Scouting reports later confirmed it, but I’m still confused. What is there to stop Zuhl from sending more men when he becomes aware of your army?”

  “He ca
n’t open the Gate,” Abigail said. “Alexander controls the Gates now and he’s locked everyone else out. Zuhl can’t send more men unless he manages to build his navy.”

  “Even if everything you say is true, it will be very difficult to persuade many of our people to help you,” Torin said. “We’ve suffered greatly. The atrocities Zuhl’s horde inflicted upon us are unspeakable. Most of those who’ve escaped into the forest want no part of violence … though there are those who crave vengeance.”

  “This war started for me the day Phane murdered my older brother and burned my home to the ground,” Abigail said, holding Torin’s eyes with a steady gaze. “Since that day we’ve fought with everything we have, first just to stay alive, then bit by bit to gain the power necessary to strike back at those who would rule by force for the sake of their own ambition. Now I stand at the head of an army poised to drive a killing thrust into the heart of Zuhl’s forces on Fellenden. I’ve seen the ruins of your city. I rode through the streets of Bredon only hours after the enemy fled our approach. I know all too well the suffering you speak of and that’s why I’m here.

  “I want their blood, and I mean to have it.

  “If you wish to stand with me, then gather those who will fight and come forth. If you wish to cower in the forest while we avenge the barbarity inflicted upon your people, so be it.”

  Torin clenched his jaw but held his tongue until he’d regained his composure.

  “You speak unfairly, Lady Abigail,” he said.

  “I speak truth,” Abigail said.

  “Don’t you want to take this war to the enemy?” Conner asked. “You owe them vengeance, this is your chance. Ride with us against them and help us drive them into the sea.”

  “Of course I want to destroy them,” Torin said, unable to fully contain his turbulent emotions. “I’ve lost my home, my father, probably my sister as well. I’m all that remains of House Fellenden. I want vengeance as much as anyone, but I have a responsibility to protect my people. They’ve suffered so much and I can’t leave them defenseless.”

  “Do you really believe you’re safe here?” Abigail asked. “Zuhl has all the time in the world. He hasn’t come for you yet because you aren’t important to him. He has an army of nearly a million soldiers just like the ones who violated your home and nearly extinguished your line. All he needs are ships and he’ll bring more men to your shores, enough to completely subjugate and enslave every single man, woman, and child on the entire Isle of Fellenden. If you want to protect your people, then help me destroy Zuhl’s shipyards and his army.”

  “How can you know this?” Torin said, alarmed by the news.

  “My brother is a wizard,” Abigail said. “He’s seen Zuhl’s army. The only hope the Seven Isles has is to keep his horde confined to the Isle of Zuhl.”

  Torin shook his head in dismay. “If that’s true, then we’re truly lost. I’ve been monitoring his work at the shipyards in hopes that I could free some of my people. He’s enslaved thousands, working them long hours, killing those who become exhausted, flogging those who work too slowly, torturing any who speak out against him. We watched the first of his ships slip from its berth into the water just days ago. The other nine are nearly complete.”

  Abigail shared a look with Anatoly, his face set and grim.

  “Then we don’t have any more time,” Abigail said. “I intend to attack within the week. Stand with me, gather what men you can and ride against Zuhl with me.”

  Torin thought for a long moment, torn between the safe course and the necessary course.

  “I will gather those who choose to fight,” he said. “We’ll move through the forest and attack from the east on your order.”

  Abigail smiled fiercely and extended her hand. Torin took it, though somewhat less sure about the coming battle.

  “Now, tell me about your sister,” Abigail said.

  “Father sent her south with Wizard Saul,” Torin said. “She was to go to the family crypt and recover an item from Carlyle Fellenden’s sarcophagus. My father called it the legacy of the Fellenden line.”

  “Did he say what the item was?” Abigail asked.

  Torin shook his head. “I’m not sure he even knew, only that it was entrusted to our house at the end of the Reishi War and that it must not fall into Zuhl’s hands.”

  Abigail and Anatoly shared another look.

  “Do you think it could be?” she asked.

  “It’s possible,” the big man-at-arms said.

  “What do you know of this?” Torin asked.

  “I’m not sure yet,” Abigail said, “and I’m not willing to speak more of it lest Phane is watching.”

  “How could he be watching?” Torin asked incredulously, looking around nevertheless.

  “Magic,” Abigail said. “I’ll send a company of riders to find your sister and bring her back to you.”

  “Thank you,” Torin said. “Of all the troubles I face, my sister’s well-being weighs on my mind the most.”

  “I understand completely,” Abigail said.

  ***

  They returned to the army just as the sun was setting. Abigail strode into the command tent and found her general staff crowded around the map table.

  “Welcome back, Lady Abigail,” General Markos said.

  “Thank you, General. Report.”

  “We’re five days from the enemy encampment,” General Markos said. “The Rangers have reported that the remaining soldiers of those occupying Bredon have all turned and are making best speed for the nearest of the three remaining raiding legions. Our commanders estimate that we killed nearly half of their number. The raiding legions will regroup within the week and number just under four legions, including the survivors of the attack on their two legions at the Gate. Admiral Tybalt of the Ithilian Navy reports that he has sixty-eight ships holding station off the coast of Ellesmere awaiting orders.”

  “Very good,” Abigail said. “Recall the Rangers and send word to Admiral Tybalt to commence his attack in five days. Advise him that Zuhl has at least one ship that’s seaworthy and perhaps more. He’s to focus his attack on those ships first, then on the ships still in their berths. Prince Torin will gather what men he can and be in position to attack from the northeast by the time we arrive.”

  “Did he say how many men he will bring to the battle?” General Markos asked.

  “No. Unfortunately, many of his people would prefer to remain hidden in the forest. Plan as if he will not bring significant numbers.”

  “Understood,” General Markos said.

  “Captain Wyatt, I have a mission of great importance for you,” Abigail said. “Lacy Fellenden was sent south by her father to retrieve an item from their family crypt and take it to Ithilian. She hasn’t been heard from since. Find her and the item she’s gone to retrieve and bring them both safely back to us.”

  “Of course, Lady Abigail,” Wyatt said. “If I may, who will protect you?”

  “Captain Sava and his men will serve as my guard,” Abigail said.

  Wyatt nodded approvingly.

  “Mistress Corina, assign two Sky Knights to assist Captain Wyatt,” Abigail said. “They’ll be leaving in the morning.”

  Abigail surveyed her command staff. Everyone in the tent fell silent.

  “We must take those shipyards at all costs,” she said. “Many will die, but far fewer than if Zuhl is permitted to build his fleet. As soon as we’ve driven them into the ocean, we’ll secure the encampment and fortify our position. There are many innocent people working as slaves in Zuhl’s shipyard—protect them as best you can.”

  Chapter 28

  Abigail looked down over Kallistos’ wing. The encampment was butted up against the shore, docks linking ten enormous berths to dry ground. A berm wall, wooden spikes jutting from it at all angles, surrounded the entire camp with a deep trench running in front of it. Towers stood just inside the perimeter at odd intervals, some armed with ballistae, others armed with catapults, still others manned b
y lookouts.

  The camp was busy. Slaves milled about fortifying the defenses, cutting timber into lumber suitable for building ships, and keeping the smith fires stoked to work iron into steel hard enough to cut the dense branches of the Iron Oak trees.

  A steady stream of horses, carts, and wagons, all overseen by Zuhl’s brutish soldiers, moved to and from the edge of the forest where slaves were cutting trees, removing the limbs, and loading the wood for transport to the mills within the camp.

  Most troubling were the three empty berths and the three giant ships anchored just offshore. Each boat was as big as a small town, easily capable of carrying a thousand men with horses, supplies, wagons, and weapons for them all. Worse, each of the three boats bristled with armaments. Longboats lined the sides of each hull, a hundred oars jutted from each side, and dozens of sails stretched between the seven masts rising out of the deck of each massive warship.

  Abigail banked, circling high overhead, evaluating the strengths and weaknesses of their defenses. Zuhl’s men were barbarians but they were industrious, strong, and well-ordered. In just weeks, they had built a small city.

  She knew from the reports of her Ranger hunting legions that this enemy eschewed bows, crossbows, and even javelins in favor of close combat. They were big men, powerful and hardy, accustomed to rule by strength. She intended to use their misguided belief in brute force against them. They would want to meet on the battlefield, facing their opponents in close-quarters combat. Abigail would deny them a direct confrontation as much as possible. She cared nothing for how the enemy died, only that they did, and sooner was better than later.

  She signaled to Knight Raja. They wheeled their wyverns and headed back to her army, a day out and traveling as quickly as a force of nearly a hundred thousand could move. By nightfall they would be within half-a-day’s march.

  With the exception of those on the road leading to the forest, the enemy had withdrawn inside their encampment. They’d made what preparations they could to defend against Abigail’s approaching army and now they seemed to be working feverishly to complete the seven ships still occupying their berths.