“We need to think like Shad or Aletha,” Becca stated firmly. “We need to be sneaky.”
“One problem with that,” Nolan started, only to frown and correct himself, “Actually, two problems with that. One, none of us are very talented at sneaky.”
Trev’nor grumbled about that one. True, they weren’t good at it. Despite all Shad had done to try and teach them.
“Two, we don’t have enough information. We can’t make any kind of plan as we have a very limited grasp on the land. Trev’nor, how much can you sense from here?”
“From here? Not a lot. I’d have to get closer. I should be able to come up with a rough outline of the city’s layout.”
“What about the building itself? The soldiers?”
“The building…will take more time. That place is pretty densely packed. I mean, if I had a week to draw it all out for you—”
“A week of sitting here?” Becca objected.
Trev’nor grimaced agreement and forged on “—then I could do it, sure. But who knows what he’d do in that week’s time? And you’re the Life Mage, you can sense people a lot better than I can.”
Nolan gripped his hair with both hands, head bowing under the stress of the situation. “I don’t see any good way around this. We can’t just forge ahead again.”
“No, that will result in a disaster.” Becca put both hands on her knees and pushed herself up. “I’m going to talk to the men, see if they can help us. Surely someone here is familiar with Alred.”
Trev’nor felt like she wouldn’t learn much, they’d asked for information before leaving and hadn’t gotten anything, but let her go without a word. Maybe someone had been shy about coming up and speaking with them. Who knew? Even though this militia of theirs was voluntary, it didn’t mean that the men were really comfortable with them. Not yet. They still had some bone-deep prejudices they were wrestling with.
For now, it was getting late, and they needed to feed people. Trev’nor knew the ins and outs of traveling better than anyone here, having lived with a nomadic tribe. He rolled back up to his feet and started prodding people into motion, not so much ordering as reminding them of things that should be done before they lost all sunlight. Most of the men seemed grateful for something to do that didn’t let their minds dwell on what happened at Alred. Trev’nor was certainly glad for a diversion.
Tents popped up, cookfires were started, but the tension didn’t really go away. Trev’nor went around helping as necessary, creating walled latrines and temporary corrals for the dragoos, but there wasn’t much he could do about the tension. That seemed to fall more under Nolan’s department. He saw his friend go about and speak to people. A few times, there was muted laughter from that direction. Nolan had always been good at charming people.
Ehsan waved him over and pointed toward the ground. “There’s a steady underground river here. Help me create a well.”
That was a good thought. Trev’nor readily went to his side. “Where exactly? Here?”
“There’s perfect.”
Trev’nor had no sense of water whatsoever, so even as he moved the earth to either side in a circular fashion, he asked, “How deep?”
“Two men standing.”
The Khobuntian measurement system was very, very odd to Trev’nor. And inaccurate. It was always ‘a man’s arm length’ or ‘two heads worth’ or something along those lines. He usually took his best guess and went with the flow, which seemed to be what the locals did, so it worked most of the time.
Ehsan didn’t ask him what they were going to do, or speak of that day’s events at all. He just worked companionably to create three different wells, then went to spread the word to the rest of the camp that they had water. Trev’nor appreciated that silence. He had no answers to offer, so questions of any sort would have been very difficult to deal with.
With all of the work done, he gravitated back toward the commander’s tent. Danyal had been insistent on this point—the commander always slept in a bright red tent. That way there was no confusion for the men on where to report. Trev’nor felt like it was sleeping inside a very large target, but at this distance, it wasn’t like any arrow or javelin could reach them. At least, that was the argument he used to console himself.
He entered the tent and found Danyal, Becca, and Nolan sitting on the ground with a very rough map of the watchtower sketched onto a large piece of parchment.
“—the division makes this more challenging,” Danyal was saying only to cut himself off at Trev’nor’s entrance. “Warlord, please sit with us. I have an idea of how to approach this.”
Trev’nor was extremely grateful to hear those words. He immediately sat down between Becca and Nolan. “I am all ears, Commander.”
“I think we need to do a night attack.” Danyal gestured to the open space between the camp and the watchtower with a grimace of frustration. “There’s too much distance to cross with no cover. Our only chance of getting to them without advertising it is in the dead of night.”
“Can’t argue there,” Becca agreed, nibbling on the edge of her thumb. “If we go in at night, they won’t see us, we’ll have a chance of getting to the hostages before they can be killed.”
“I think the attack should be three-fold,” Danyal continued respectfully. “Have two mages split up, go for either of the hostages, with the dragons dropping off an elite force to tackle the main gate. We have to time it so the mages get there minutes before the attack on the gate.”
He thought he saw where Danyal was going with this. “Get the hostages out of danger fast, then create a diversion at the main gate to keep anyone from going after us while we get them to safety. That’s what you’re planning.”
Danyal gave him a shark-like grin. “Precisely, Warlord.”
As plans went, this one wasn’t a bad one. Trev’nor had thought of worse ideas. Even followed through on some of them. “One question. Who goes for which group?”
“I leave that to you three to discuss. I am not familiar enough with your abilities to know which one would be best suited to either target.”
Trev’nor looked up to find both Nolan and Becca staring at him with a disconcerting expression on their faces. Well, disconcerting for him. He knew those looks. “Am I going to like this?”
“Probably not.” Nolan took in a deep breath before looking him straight in the eyes. “The person that can subdue the most amount of soldiers in the shortest amount of time is you.”
“Without structurally damaging everything in the area? Is that what you mean?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
Trev’nor shrugged. “I can’t argue with you there. You and Becca can do the same amount I can, but your fighting styles usually topple buildings in the process. What are you thinking, Nol?”
“I’m thinking…that the slaves are only around the tower. I’m thinking that if we can sneak just you in, we have a good chance of stopping the soldiers before they can execute the magicians.”
It was not arrogance that made him agree. “Even if I can’t get to everyone fast enough, it will still be better than trying any other method of attack. But how are you planning to get me in?”
“This is the part that you’re not going to like.”
“A night drop?!” he squeaked. Realizing he’d gone into an octave he hadn’t visited since puberty, he stopped and cleared his throat. “Nolan. Are you insane?!”
“It’s a stone roof top,” Becca immediately argued. “You can go right through it.”
“You are planning to drop a person that is already nervous with heights several feet onto a small, circular roof.”
“Garth won’t drop you carelessly.”
“Garth isn’t going to drop me at all!”
Garth, of course, caught this whole conversation and curled around the tent to stick his head inside. “Sounds fun.”
“It does not sound fun, you giant lizard!” Trev’nor jabbed a stern finger in his direction. “We’re not doing th
is. No.”
Nolan went back to staring at the watchtower. “Only way we’ll get in, Trev.”
“It can’t be.”
“Alright, if you feel that vehemently about it, go think. If you can come up with a better plan, we’ll do that instead.”
Trev’nor stomped off, cursing them both, and thought long and hard. But no matter how he studied the situation, or thought about the things he had learned from Shad and Aletha, he couldn’t think of another option. In fact, he harbored a suspicion that if Shad were here right now, he’d be planning exactly the same thing. Only he’d likely make Garth go in with Trev’nor.
There were many possible pitfalls with this plan, but the one that Trev’nor was most nervous about was how fast he would have to subdue the guards. The moment they realized he was there, they would react, and there would be many lives lost. He would have to be almost superhuman quick to make sure that no one died. Even if he was Shad’s student, he didn’t have that kind of reflexes.
He made a full circle around the camp before coming back to where they sat. All three looked at him expectantly.
“I’m not Shad,” he finally stated.
“We know that, Trev,” Nolan assured him.
“At least a few people are going to die, no matter how fast I fight the guards off.”
“We know,” Becca assured him gently. “But no matter how we look at it, sending you in like this is our best chance to keep the casualties to a minimum. Nolan can handle the cages on the walls, he’s best equipped to do that, and he can coordinate with the dragons to help him. I can go in with the main force and blow the main gate apart so they can get in. It’s the only way to do it.”
“Even if things go really wrong, we have to go in.” Nolan spat the words out like they were rotten. “We don’t dare let him win this stalemate. Things will be so much worse if we lose this battle.”
Trev’nor hated the plan, really and truly hated it, but didn’t see a better option. “You’ll be ready to move in the moment I have them safe?”
“The second you tell us to move, we’ll move,” Becca assured him, raising a hand in a silent vow. “I’ll light up the sky as soon as you people clear. We’ll win, Trev’nor.”
“I know we will. And we’ll execute that dastard the minute we lay hands on him.”
“Only if you beat me to it. Or Ehsan. We’re both really mad at him right now. I fully plan to fry him on sight.”
“And Ehsan?” Charmed by a particular inner vision, Trev’nor grinned. “You think the warlord will be the first case of a man drowning in a desert?”
“That would be a funny tombstone, wouldn’t it?” Nolan grinned back, rocking a little on his haunches. “But really, I think Ehsan will kill him on sight. He told me that he has friends that were sent this direction.”
Trev’nor stomach turned over in a hard lurch. “Is that why he reacted that way, earlier?”
“I think he’s pretty sure some of his friends were in that lineup.”
Trev’nor was wrong, earlier. The situation could apparently get worse. “Are we doing this tonight?”
“I see no reason to wait, do you? They saw us setting up camp, so they think that we’re settling in for the night. It’s the perfect time to set up an ambush.”
That was the answer he was afraid of. “Let’s get dinner. And then I want a nap. We’ll wait for midnight before moving.”
“Fine by me.”
“I hate all of you.”
“We know you do, Trev,” Nolan soothed, and fortunately for his sake, he didn’t sound amused or patronizing. Trev’nor would have strangled him if he had.
“I’m going to have nightmares about this for weeks.”
Becca patted him on the leg, subtly making sure that he could pop the straps free in a split second. “You’ll be fine. Garth won’t miss.”
It was not Garth missing that Trev’nor was worried about. Much. It was him having a panic attack mid-air while falling onto a dark rooftop. He couldn’t even close his eyes and wait for it to be over as he absolutely had to watch where he was going. “This is insane. I hate all of you.”
“You’ve said that.” Becca patted Garth’s shoulder and stood back. “He’s ready. Take him up.”
In the pitch darkness of the desert, he couldn’t see anyone except the glowing eyes of the dragons. Garth craned his neck around to look at him, and in those golden depths, there was vast patience and reassurance. “It will be fine, fledgling.”
He didn’t believe that. Well, maybe ten percent of him was convinced that things would somehow work out fine, but the other ninety was equally convinced that this whole thing was a very bad idea. No one was listening to him, though.
Garth took off before he could either complain or try to talk people out of this plan. The takeoff was abrupt enough to snap his head back, and he realized that ready for this or not, he had to focus.
There were lights on in the watchtower, of course, and large braziers on top of the base wall, but other than that there wasn’t another speck of light to be seen. In all likelihood, the moon and stars out here were probably brilliant at this time of night. But Becca’s storm system still hovered overhead, ready for her use, and it blocked the heavens completely. This was good for Trev’nor and Garth as it meant they had total darkness to fly in.
Garth started out far away from Alred, gaining height and speed. Then, when he felt he had gained enough of both, he turned and headed for the watchtower. He came in silently, not once flapping his wings, but gliding the whole distance. It made his approach completely soundless but also slowed his descent enough that he had time to drop his rider.
The watchtower was so brightly lit that Trev’nor had no trouble marking distance and angle. He kicked free of his saddle, hovering just on top of it, although he had a death’s grip on the pommel. When they got low enough, Garth did a half-twist in air, and Trev’nor leapt free in almost the exact same moment. Using every skill that Shad and Aletha had ever taught him, he rolled into a landing on top of the roof and fetched up a little hard against the side. Bruised, winded, but his adrenaline was pumping so hard that he barely noticed.
How in the world had they pulled that off?!
It took two seconds for the dazed amazement to wear down enough for Trev’nor to realize he had to move. Now. Shaking his head, he eyed the stone under his feet, feeling the contents of the watchtower as only an Earth Mage could. The immediate level below his feet wasn’t very large, perhaps eight feet circumference. The level under it was larger, much larger, likely somewhere around thirty feet circumference and it had a wide ledge to it that held the metal cages. All of the levels below it were identical in size and shape.
He couldn’t really feel non-magical people well, but in an enclosed area like this made of stone, he could feel their vibrations and weight, and that told him where people were. Four below. Sixteen below that, crowded against each other, although none were readily standing, but sitting, it looked like.
No matter what Nolan said, he couldn’t defeat sixteen people at once. Not in a round place like this, where he didn’t have line of sight on anyone. Trev’nor’s mind coldly analyzed the odds, found the probability of him being able to save everyone very low, and knew that he would have to rely on Garth to make up the difference. His dragon would be attacking from the outside, reaching for anyone near the cages on the ledge. He could only do his best and hope that things really did turn out alright, as Garth had said they would.
Closing his eyes, he dropped through the ceiling.
The first four men didn’t know what hit them. He used the bon’a’lon at his side as much as he used earth to fight with, and they were down before they could really give him much opposition. Only one of them managed to cry out, but just that one was enough to doom his element of surprise. Trev’nor swore, dropped through the floor again to the next level, and rolled as he landed. Muscles straining, he put every ounce of speed he could into his attacks, taking four men out at once, then
ran around the outside of the building, going around the curve enough to see the next set of archers on standby.
Only they weren’t on standby anymore.
Trev’nor’s heart sank as he heard the twang of several bows snapping, the sounds of arrows whistling, and the cries of people in pain. Not fast enough, not fast enough, notfastenough. Garth roared out in challenge as he flew, coming in tightly around the tower before latching onto it and using his claws to gain a purchase in the stone. The tower shook under the impact, making people stumble and cry out in alarm. The dragon snapped at opponents, his long neck reaching people that thought they were out of reach.
Trev’nor took advantage of his partner’s arrival and spun on his toes, shot out earth in every direction, making people duck and cover, which bought him another few seconds, but even as he fought, he knew it was worlds too late for some.
One soldier took advantage of his preoccupation with two other opponents to get a strike in. Even though Trev’nor knew that the man was coming up on his blindside, he couldn’t disengage and turn fast enough. All he could do was turn sideways, mitigating the amount of target he was offering, and grit his teeth for the inevitable. The man took a swing, cutting a long gash along his shoulders and back, leaving him gasping as white hot pain shot down his spine.
Snarling, Garth reached in with a claw and grabbed the man. Trev’nor didn’t bother to track what happened to him after that as the man wouldn’t survive. Dragons had no mercy when protecting their own.
Clamping his teeth, he fought back the pain even as he battled the last ones standing. It took five precious minutes to take all of the archers in the tower down. Without Garth, it might have taken longer. Trev’nor stood over the last body and breathed shakily, something wet streaming over his cheeks. Had someone gotten a lucky head strike in? Was he bleeding? He lifted his hand to his face to investigate, but his fingers didn’t come away with blood. Tears.
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