Knight's Creed: Age Of Magic - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Tales of the Wellspring Knight Book 1)

by P. J. Cherubino

  “I really am,” Vinnie said with a smile. “Jordane has been making thin glass globes that we can fill with the sticky pepper juice and throw like grenades. I also have a barrel full of the sticky stuff to spray on anyone outside. I’ve also made the stuff stronger.”

  “I have enough elixir for about sixty people,” Moxy said. “There’s only one problem.”

  “Isn’t there always?” Astrid said. “I’ll be happy if it’s only one.”

  “Everyone’s going to be a little bit drunk,” Moxy said.

  “I didn’t taste any alcohol,” Astrid said.

  “Not drunk from alcohol. I had to use the bark from the wormwood tree. There wasn’t enough moss to make my first formula,” Moxy explained.

  “I’m not sure I like this idea anymore,” Astrid said.

  “Most humans find it pleasant,” Moxy said. “But I can eat things that would kill most humans.”

  Astrid palmed her forehead. “Let’s work on getting this gear up to the caves.”

  “That’s our next challenge,” Vinnie said.

  “Are you equal to that challenge?” Astrid asked.

  “Of course,” Vinnie said.

  “Then I’ll leave you to it. I have to coordinate a food shipment to George’s people. It’s political,” Astrid declared as she walked away toward Popova’s house.

  She was surprised to find Pleth along the way. She couldn’t restrain herself. “You look like shit,” Astrid blurted out.

  “I thought we were past this,” Pleth said in a defeated tone.

  “No,” Astrid shot back. “I mean you look like you’re working yourself to death.”

  “I just had this argument with the blacksmith, my wife, and now you,” Pleth said.

  “Well, then take a fucking hint,” Astrid said.

  “I can’t,” Pleth said. Tears welled in his eyes, and Astrid spoke to a man far different from the one she met on the Toll Road. “I have to earn my place here for my family. I have to make up for…”

  “You will. I believe that, Popova believes that, the blacksmith’s whole family believes it, too. But you can’t do it all at once.”

  He turned away.

  “No,” Astrid said, as if speaking to a stubborn child. “You go home right now and soak your hands.” His fingers were wrapped in bandages. “Rest. Take care of yourself. Enjoy your family.”

  “I don’t deserve it,” Pleth said.

  “Bullshit!” Astrid barked. “You just crossed the line into self-pity. The next stop for you is resentment. After that, you’ll slip back to your old self.” Pleth met her eyes then, and she was grateful to see some fire. “You’re with us now. Take a fucking break.”

  She smiled at him, and he gave a weak smile back and headed for the little hut the village built for him near Popova’s.

  Astrid found the Elder hard at work behind her hut making cheese curds with a young boy.

  “Hello, Astrid,” Popova said.

  “Hello, Elder Popova,” Astrid said.

  The old woman laughed. “I can tell by the formal greeting that you think I’m upset with you.”

  “Well, are you?” Astrid probed.

  “A little. I understand you promised some of the second harvest to Woody’s clan.”

  “I figured we had enough,” Astrid said.

  “That’s hardly the point. We do, yes. I would hope you’d include me on the particulars. After tracking down some bandits for information, we found they needed blankets and household implements and cookware. You could have sent a messenger.”

  “So… you’re upset that I didn’t give you the opportunity to give them… more… ”

  “Upset might not be the right word,” Popova said. “I also just wanted to see you.” She rose up and wiped her hands on a clean rag while the boy worked.

  “When this is over,” Astrid said. “You’ll get tired of seeing me.”

  Popova just smiled. “I fear your fortunes might take you further than you realize,” she said.

  Astrid didn’t know what to say. Popova continued. “In just a few short weeks, you’ve changed our lives completely. Do you realize that?”

  “I just helped you make the changes needed,” Astrid said.

  “Maybe,” Popova said. “Maybe.”

  “I’ll see you soon, Popova. Promise,” Astrid said.

  Keep 52

  Clarence stood in the empty room and stared at the blood smeared on the wall beside the window. It seemed that night the bandits tried to set fire to one of the outbuildings. Could it have been made by one of them?

  It seemed impossible. How could the bandits get into a room right beside his planning chambers. The appearance of the blood smear also seemed to correspond to an eerie feeling that washed over him the night before. Nobody reported a fight in this room.

  Just before the alarm sounded, he felt as if he was not alone. He looked over his shoulder, then his skin itched. He felt…anxiety for a moment. It had taken him a full day to realize what the feeling was.

  Anxiety had been beaten out of him at the age of ten. His father did not spare him in training. He was placed with the rest of the rough village boys who displayed the Gifts. But that night, he felt anxiety. That’s what it was.

  The training of a Mover was harsh. It had to be. Forging a mind that can move objects and summon such great bodily strength required an iron will and the single-minded determination of fire itself.

  Many students didn’t survive the training past sixteen. Clarence reasoned that if his own father would risk his only son on becoming a Mover, he must have been worth it.

  Clarence whirled at the sound of a scraping footstep behind him. A clumsy man. A soldier. Clarence, like all Movers, made almost no sound when he walked on nearly any surface.

  “Speak,” Clarence said.

  Jank’s mercenary stared back at him with cold eyes. “We found them,” the man said.

  “Where?” Clarence asked, almost wearily.

  “Not well hidden—a mile east of junction F3,” the merc said. “They were stripped of armor and weapons.”

  “Come,” Clarence commanded. He pushed past the merc and went next door to his map table. He quickly found junction F3. “The first two bodies were here,” Clarence said, stabbing a map line with his finger. “To the Northwest.”

  “The two that were just found. How were they killed?”

  “Bolt to the back of the head. Knife to the base of the skull.”

  “Skilled,” Clarence said. “Bandits usually kill with crude weapons—wood axes, maces, arrows. I take that back. Their bowmanship is quite good, as are their bows.”

  “They are good hunters,” the Merc said. Clarence respected that the man was not shy around him. He was a bit nervous, though. Clarence wanted it that way.

  “But these kills are not the work of hunters of deer and rabbits. These are hunters of men.”

  “They were in disguise and on the grounds,” the merc said. “But how? Mercs are not so easily fooled.”

  “Something else is going on here,” Clarence said.

  Just then, another merc appeared in the doorway. “We’ve found the caves,” he said, breathlessly.

  “You?” Clarence asked. “You found them?”

  “No, Lieutenant. The scout is on his way.”

  “How is it that you are here with the word and not the scout himself! Find him! If his breath smells of ale, I swear I will staple his tongue to his report!”

  The merc turned and ran down the hallway at full speed.

  A few minutes later, a limping, bloody, lacerated scout stood swaying in the doorway. “We found the bandit clan stronghold. They killed my partner.”

  “Where. Show me on this map. Now,” Clarence demanded.

  The scout pulled five map tiles from his bag and arranged them on the table. It took him a couple tries to get them right. “Here. In the Northeast. Near the border. Caves in the highlands. I got a good look. They didn’t want any survivors, but I got away.”

/>   Clarence paused at this account. He only let the underling ramble on because his babble yielded good information.

  “Who attacked you?” Clarence asked.

  “Bandits…” the scout said.

  “What did they look like?” Clarence asked.

  “Men with weapons,” the scout said almost flatly.

  Normally, Clarence would pounce on such a response. People who spoke to him that way usually didn’t remain standing for long with bones intact.

  “Were they all men? Were there women among them? Did they use bows or crossbows? Did they wear stolen armor?” Clarence asked these questions with forced patience, but seized the scout’s eyes with his own.

  The scout calmed himself and thought for a moment. “They were older. Both men and women. Some looked infirm. They were surprised that we found them.”

  “How did they find you?” Clarence asked.

  The scout hung his head. “It was my fault. I wasn’t careful. I think they heard me.”

  Clarence thought for a moment. All his suspicions that they were allowed to find the trap faded. The fact that old men, women, and weak-looking bandits confronted the scouts told him everything they needed to know. Were there Astrid’s people at the Caves, he would know it was a trap.

  But was she smart enough to create that illusion?

  Yes, he answered his own internal dialogue. She was, but she’s also cautious. If she suspected they were looking for the caves, she would have put her most capable people up there as a guard.

  “Did you see evidence of enemy patrols along the way?” Clarence asked.

  “None, sir. We were thorough. We searched the woods carefully on the way in. We found no evidence.”

  “You’ve done well,” he said to the scout. “Go find a healer and rest until next muster.”

  Clarence pushed open the office door and called into the hallway. “Jank! Get me Jank! Sound the mission call! We ride now to battle!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Battle of the Caves

  Vinnie got his ‘weapons system’ installed just in time. It took a full day to haul the heavy barrels through the mountains on the back paths. They used rotating teams of horses to do it.

  When everything was in place, they stationed people in camouflage suits to hide in the woods with pepper grenades.

  As Jank’s murderers entered the cave to pursue the bait, they planned to hit them with pepper juice and trap them in a choke point. The plan was nearly perfect. That’s what had Astrid so worried.

  There were too many moving parts. She was relying on most parts of the plan to succeed. She had very little backup.

  To cover all the bets, she had to split her forces to protect two locations. The worst risk was that the whole plan depended on early notice of attack.

  To provide that, Astrid placed two-person watch posts along both the routes. They used the bandit “getaway” horse system as a relay. As soon as the scouts closest to the keep saw a large troop movement, they would get on a horse and run ahead to the next station.

  Using that technique would more than double the speed of the message. But that assumed the first scout got away unseen.

  There were simply too many single points of failure for Astrid to feel comfortable.

  Another feature built into the plan was a signal system. The first scout would make a certain animal call as she ran. The posts along the way would repeat the call up the line. That should give them a few extra seconds of warning.

  “Scout inbound!” a woman screamed. “I heard the signal!”

  “This is it!” Astrid shouted. “Get in your positions and hold until my order. Do not do anything until I tell you! Any mistake means we die!! We have the advantage. We will keep it, and we will prevail!”

  The only sound was rushing feet and rustling camouflage suits as everyone took their places. “WHAT DO YOU SAY TO THAT!?” Astrid bellowed. “I can’t fucking hear you!”

  “Victory!” someone shouted back.

  “Victory!” Astrid answered.

  The rustling, clanging, and general noise subsided quickly, and Astrid took her position behind a group of bandits in camo suits. She preferred to be at the front of the line, but it was more important that she take cover near the mouth of the cave, so she could see when the bulk of the troops entered.

  That is, if they entered.

  Everyone had a part to play. She couldn’t see the group of old men who volunteered to be bait. The plan was to have them confront the first troops and lead them on a chase into the caves. One of those old men was the first person Astrid met at the bandit stronghold. He spoke plainly of his willingness to die for this fight. Astrid chewed her lip and hoped that wouldn’t happen.

  “How is your plan going?” a voice whispered in her ear.

  Astrid whirled around to come face-to-face with Gertrude.

  “How—” Astrid hissed. “Why are you here!”

  “I saw those who needed to remain safe to safety. I’m not one of those people,” Gerty said with a sharp-toothed grin.

  “You don’t know the plan. If you put my operation in jeopardy, I’ll kill you myself,” Astrid hissed. She meant it.

  “Counting on it,” Gerty said. “You’re in charge. I got no problem with that.”

  “Stay by my side,” Astrid said. “Be my second set of eyes. Since you snuck up on me, apparently I need that. The only other person who can do that is a little more than human.” She managed a smile, even though she was unnerved.

  “Don’t feel bad,” Gerty said. “I’ve been at this for sixty years.”

  A loud bird call told her the scout was almost there. She looked to the trail for the scout, but was pleased when she heard her coming through the forest.

  “Full force. Ten minutes out,” the girl said between gasping breaths. She couldn’t have been more than fifteen years old. “First scout barely got away. We saw Clarence.”

  “Good job. Go to the safety point and stay there no matter what happens,” the girl hesitated and adjusted her short bow.

  “Do as she says!” Gertrude hissed. “Now!”

  The girl took off like a scalded dog.

  Sure enough, ten minutes later, Astrid heard shouting and the sounds of many galloping hooves. At the head of the force was Clarence Lungu himself. Jank rode right behind him.

  Only two of the four old men who were the bait survived to make it into the cave. Their horses were bleeding from crossbow wounds. Four mercenaries jumped off their horses. They paused for one second to light a torch, then they charged into the cave.

  The rest of the force of a hundred-fifty hardened soldiers stopped perfectly between a hundred bandits hiding in the woods.

  Astrid had to trade speed of attack to keep the bulk of her force hidden. Twenty bandits in ghillie suits hid closest to the road. The rest of the forces lay down behind blinds a few paces behind them. The ones closest to the road were armed with the pepper grenades while the troops behind them were equipped with the barrels and spray hoses.

  “Everyone into the caves now!” Clarence shouted.

  “Wait!” Jank shouted back. “Leave a reserve!”

  Clarence turned on Jank with murder in his eyes. To his credit, Jank held firm.

  “This could still be a trap,” Jank said.

  Astrid was close enough to read every line on both faces.

  “We need to search the woods,” Jank said. “Before we commit.”

  Astrid’s heart clenched in her throat. If that happened, they would have to spring the trap early. She wasn’t sure of victory in that case.

  “Let me distract them,” Gerty said.

  Astrid shook her head violently. “Stay!” she mouthed.

  “No! We killed two of them,” Clarence said. “We see no others. They are hiding in the caves. You heard the bandit scum shout for everyone to hide before we took them out.”

  Astrid pinched her eyes shut and swallowed a scream. Two of the people she pledged to protect were already dead.
The old men did give their lives to this fight. Fuck. The Well threatened to rise up in her without her bidding. Hang on, she told herself.

  “It could still be a trap,” Jank said.

  “Do it! What am I paying you for!” Clarence spat.

  “Fifty men, stay here!” Jank shouted. “The rest of you! Into the caves! Kill everything!”

  The setup was almost ideal. They had taken the bait. Now, all Astrid had to do was wait for the perfect time to spring the trap. It all depended on what happened inside the cave.

  Jank’s rear guard positioned themselves in a two-tiered circle around their two commanders. Mere minutes seemed to dilate into hours. Sweat beaded up and ran down Astrid’s forehead in spite of the cold.

  Random shouting echoed and drifted through the mouth of the cave. Astrid waited. Any second now. The cave channeled more shouting, then came the screams and the clashing of metal.

  “Something’s wrong,” Jank said. “Search the woods!”

  Astrid whistled loud, then scrambled to another position, darting behind a tree. The tension broke with shattering globes of the pepper grenades. They hit the enemy before they could respond to Jank’s order.

  Astrid was surprised. Vinnie had done something that made the grenades release a white cloud that rose up and engulfed the enemy.

  But it was already working. What she hadn’t expected was the effect on the horses. She felt bad for the animals that screamed in pain when the pepper gas hit their nostrils.

  Men were thrown from panicked horses as more gas grenades sailed into the crowd. It was pure chaos. Exactly what Astrid wanted.

  “It burns!” the men screamed.

  “Your fuckin’ right it burns, you murdering assholes!” Astrid found herself screaming in spite of herself. She was enraged by the causal order to kill people they thought would be defenseless.

  “Poison!” voices shouted.

  “It’s not fatal, you fools!” Clarence screamed from somewhere in the crowd.

  The barrage of gas grenades slowed down.

  “Keep throwing!” Astrid bellowed as the second wave came forward with the barrels of pepper goo.

  “Archers!” Astrid shouted.

  They must have had arrows nocked and drawn. The missiles flew while the command was still in her throat.