As they milled about in front of the Mercerians, trying to calm their mounts, Gerald struck, lunging forward and extending his arm to pierce the leg of a nearby rider. The Norlander roared out in pain, then swung his sword down in a counter-attack, but the old warrior had seen it coming. He parried the blow, knocking it to the side, then plunged the tip of his sword into the man's torso.
Gerald felt his blade scrape the man's spine, then withdrew it, covering himself in his quarry's blood. As his foe started to topple from the saddle, Gerald dropped his shield and grabbed the man by the belt, pulling him down. Moments later, he had his foot in the stirrup and was hauling himself onto the enemy's horse.
He heard his men cheering, but ignored it. The Norlanders, surprised by his actions, were ill-equipped to respond to this sudden turn of events. Gerald struck out, slicing deep into a rider's arm. A bellow of pain told him all he needed to know, and so he twisted his mount, slewing the horse sideways as a sword stabbed out at him, missing him by no more than a hands-breadth. The marshal, releasing the reins and grabbing the rider's forearm as it passed before his eyes, gave it a tug, pulling his foe off balance. The Norland warrior struggled to stay in the saddle, and just as he seemed steady, a surprised look appeared on his face as a sword took him in the lower back.
Suddenly, as if a dam burst, the guardsmen were among the Norland horsemen, attacking with wild abandon. At least six horses were now riderless, and Gerald watched a group of four Norlanders rushing westward in an attempt to escape the carnage.
The scrape of a blade across his forearm was a stern reminder that he was still in the thick of it. He stabbed out with his right hand even as he sought the reins, but the damn horse was too agitated, and he struggled to maintain control.
His helmet rattled as another sword struck, and he instinctively ducked, then counter-attacked, sending the point of his Mercerian longsword into his foe's face. Gerald fought to hold onto his weapon as the horseman began to fall away from him, but the blood-soaked blade flew from his grasp, disappearing into the confusion of battle.
Another Norlander charged towards him from the left, sword held out straight, the point aimed directly at his head. Waiting until the last moment, Gerald pulled back, letting the blade pass before his eyes just as he grabbed the man's wrist in both hands, twisting it with all the strength he could muster.
Bone snapped, and the sword fell from the Norlander's grip to balance precariously on the saddle for but a moment. Gerald reached out, grabbing it before his opponent could flee the battle.
Gripping it firmly, the marshal turned, expecting more foes, but the Norlanders had had enough. The few that remained on horseback were galloping westward as fast as they could ride.
As Gerald struggled to catch his breath, he surveyed the battlefield. At least half of the enemy was injured, along with four of their horses. Some of the Mercerians were running around the skirmish area, eager to capture the riderless horses.
"Stop! Back into formation!" he shouted as more horsemen topped the rise. For a brief moment, he thought their luck had run out. The fleeing Norlanders, thinking the same, let out a cheer, but the words soon died on their lips. Gerald smiled, for front and centre of the new arrivals was a great black stallion and its red-headed rider. Dame Beverly had returned!
Twenty-Six
Hawksburg
Fall 964 MC
* * *
The early morning mist was burning off as Kraloch peered over the wall, straining to see what the sun might reveal.
"I see riders," he announced. "Hundreds of them."
"I suppose we shouldn't be surprised," said Baron Fitzwilliam. "After all, they've been after our land for centuries."
"Are they attacking?" asked the queen.
"No," said Fitz, "at least not that I can see. They seem to be bypassing us."
"I wish Revi were here," said Anna. "He could send Shellbreaker to have a look."
"You forget," said the baron, "we have Albreda." He turned to the druid. "Would you be so kind, my dear?"
"Certainly," Albreda replied. Closing her eyes, she began reciting words of magic, and then the air appeared to buzz before she fell silent.
Fitz searched the skies. For a moment, the wind appeared to die, and then he spotted it, a hawk, circling overhead. Looking back to Albreda, he noticed her twisting her head back and forth as if seeking something on the ground. It was then that he realized she was seeing through the eyes of the hawk.
"There are hundreds of them," she stated, "and their column stretches for miles."
"Any sign of siege equipment?" asked Fitz.
"No," she replied. "In fact, there's no sign of footmen or archers."
"They'll be moving fast," said the queen. "I doubt we could catch up with them, even if we did have the numbers."
"I expect they're counting on that very thing," said Fitz. "It's a bold gamble they're taking."
"You think they're going to Tewsbury?" asked the queen.
"No," said Fitz, "I think they'll head directly to Wincaster."
"What makes you say that?" asked Kraloch.
"They are far to the east of us," said Fitz, "with their lightest troops to the west as a screening force. Unless I miss my guess, their more heavily armoured riders are out of our sight."
"Richard is correct," said Albreda, her eyes still closed. "I can see them quite clearly."
"How heavily are they armoured?" asked the queen.
"They are similar to the Weldwyn horse," said Albreda, "and most of them look to be wearing chainmail."
"They haven't the heavier armour our knights wear," said Fitz.
"Why is that?" asked Kraloch.
"It's their iron," came a voice from behind them.
They all turned to see Aldwin approaching.
"Norland iron is of inferior quality," noted the smith, "and they have not learned to temper it properly. As a result, they are unable to forge larger pieces like chest plates."
"Don't they have smiths?" said Kraloch.
"They do," Aldwin continued, "but they are only as good as the material they have to work with."
"They forge weapons well enough," said Fitz.
"True," replied the smith, "but even we Mercerians didn't perfect chest plates until very recently, and we had the advantage of consulting with Dwarven smiths."
"He has a point," said the queen.
"Remarkable," said Fitz. "Tell me, my boy, when did you become such an expert in history?"
"Ever since Beverly and I returned to Wincaster, shortly after our wedding. I had to do something to keep me busy while she was performing her duties."
"Aldwin," said Albreda, "you've been studying the magic circle here in Hawksburg, have you found anything of interest?"
"As a matter of fact, I have," he replied. "We may be able to reduce the cost of future circles."
"Now that," said the queen, "is welcome news. Tell me, Lord Aldwin, how might that be accomplished."
"When we poured the magic runes in Wincaster," the smith replied, "we made them of solid gold, but my studies here indicate the runes are not solid."
"Meaning?" said Fitz.
"Meaning the runes are likely cast of something else, and then only coated in gold. I would think they're made of iron beneath their expensive exterior."
"Would that be difficult to do?" asked the queen.
"It would be challenging," said Aldwin, "but I think I could manage it. It would require some exact measurements. We wouldn't be pouring directly into the circle, rather we would be forming the runes and then placing them into the stone afterwards."
"I suspect," said Albreda, "that such a method would be more than adequate for less powerful circles, but I believe pure gold runes would be required should they be imbued with more energy."
"What makes you say that?" asked Fitz.
"When I empowered Nature's Fury, I could feel the magic taking hold. I believe that the rarer the metal, the greater the magic it can contain."
Albreda opened her eyes, releasing her control over the hawk. "It's really quite simple, Richard. In order to empower an item, it must be constructed of a material capable of containing the magic. This is typically very high quality, such as the hammer that Aldwin made."
"Sky metal," said the smith.
"Precisely," she continued, "and the rarest of all metals. A sword of high quality could be empowered, but an everyday weapon, such as the spears you equip many of your footmen with, would be unable to retain the magic within them. If I were to cast such a spell on one, it would quickly dissipate."
"As fascinating as that is," said the queen, "we must still deal with the Norland threat."
"Quite," said Fitz. "Sorry, Your Majesty."
"What would you recommend we do about them, Baron?" Anna asked.
In answer, Fitz gazed east, absently stroking his beard as he thought. "We shall send out our cavalry this afternoon. They'll likely have stragglers we can pick off. I will lead them myself."
"No," said the queen, "we cannot risk your loss."
He looked at her in surprise. "Then, who?"
"Prince Alric will lead them," she said.
"Absolutely not!" said Fitz. "You cannot risk the life of the prince."
"We have little choice, and Alric IS a skilled warrior. Who better to lead the horse?"
"I wish the Kurathians were here," said Fitz, "I'd feel a lot better about this."
"How many horse can we gather?" asked Anna.
"Only about two dozen, Majesty," said Fitz. "We are still waiting for Heward to fall back from Wickfield."
"Surely he has done so already?" asked Albreda.
"He likely has," said Fitz, "but he wouldn't have come straight south, he has villagers to protect. The last thing we want is the enemy to come across them strung out along a road. Instead, he would have led them into the Wickfield Hills. If anything, we should be looking west to his arrival, not north."
"We can transport horses from Wincaster using the circles," said Albreda.
"We only have light horse in the capital," advised Fitz.
"You're forgetting Alric's guard," said the queen. "He has two companies of Weldwyn horse that his father sent, remember?"
"Would he be willing to risk them in combat?" asked Fitz.
"I'm sure he would," said the queen. "Now, gather what mages you can, Albreda. We'll be returning to Wincaster as soon as possible so that I can talk to Alric, and you can gather the cavalry."
Albreda bowed. "As you wish, Your Majesty."
* * *
Aubrey absently waved her hand, bringing the glowing ball of light closer. The walls of the casting room were dug into the dirt, then shored up by wooden beams, giving the place a very stark look. The Ancestors had talked of something that was buried, but what did that mean, exactly?
With the floor set in stone, and the casting circle occupying almost that entire space, she thought it unlikely that it held what she sought. Could they be referring to the walls?
Feeling along where the floor met the walls, and occasionally tapping the hard-packed dirt with her hands, she hoped to hear something that might indicate a small chamber or door.
All morning she searched, and yet still, it eluded her. Finally, she moved to the table and sat down to gather her thoughts. Aldwin's sketches littered its surface, and she began collecting them, piling them neatly together. She was almost done when one such illustration caught her attention. It depicted the centre of the circle, and she was struck by the pattern. She had always assumed it was in the shape of a shield, containing a coat of arms, and yet now, seeing Aldwin's picture, upside down as it was, she saw a doorway.
Aubrey rose, moving to the centre of the circle and kneeling, calling over her glowing orb of light. When casting, she had always stood facing north, but now, as she looked south, she recognized what Aldwin's sketch had revealed. Could this be some clue?
The longer she stared at that coat of arms, the more she came to realize it hid something. From her vantage point, the top of the 'door' could represent the ground above. Beneath it, was a strange-looking rune. She turned south to see the very same shape within the circle itself. She had always assumed it to be a banner, and yet from this angle, it looked more like an archway.
She stood, thinking it over, then smiled. Something was buried here, of that she was convinced, but now she realized that the answer to finding it wasn't crawling along on her hands and knees examining the wall. No, it was to use her magic.
Knowing what she now had to do, she moved to sit cross-legged in the centre of the circle. Staring straight ahead, she concentrated on her spell, then began the incantation. The runes glowed as her power increased, then she felt the familiar snapping as she left her physical form, and her spirit floated free. She watched as her body slumped forward. Now was the tricky part, for concentration was key. She had to imagine herself falling through the stone.
Aubrey felt a moment of panic as her feet sank into the floor, but then her fascination took over. Down farther, she dropped, until her head was level with the stone. She fought the urge to close her eyes, then all went dark as she passed beneath the casting circle.
Her orb of light had remained in the room above, and so she dismissed it. Moments later, as she had cast it anew, a soft light illuminated her present position, in a small room, similar in size to the one above, yet lined with wooden shelves. There was no sign of stairs or a ladder, and yet somehow, someone had built this place. She floated across the room, examining the ceiling, desperate to find some method of entry.
It was frustrating. She was here, among all these books, and yet in her current form, she was unable to peruse them. How did someone get down here?
She lowered herself to the floor, then knelt, bringing her light closer. The answer lay before her, for in the centre of the room lay a series of stones, forming a circle no more than five feet in diameter. It showed the very same pattern that lay above, on the centre stone.
Aubrey rose, walking around the circle slowly, taking it all in, committing it to memory. She had no idea how long she studied it, but her orb of light went out once before she was finished. Finally ready, she stepped upon the circle, dismissing her spell of spirit walk.
The familiar feeling tugged at her, pulling her back through the floor. She heard the snapping noise as she joined with her physical form once more and opened her eyes, taking in the room surrounding her.
She rose from her seated position and immediately started casting. Moments later, the recall spell took hold, and her surroundings disappeared, to be replaced by the room below. Aubrey stepped out of the subterranean circle, calling forth her orb of light once more. She had done it!
Moving closer to the shelves, she began examining the books.
* * *
Albreda descended the ramp, followed closely by Kraloch and the queen.
"I have no idea where Aubrey went," the druid said. "Perhaps she returned to Wincaster?"
"Without telling us?" said Kraloch. "That isn't like her."
"Still," said the druid, "I can find no other reason for her absence, can you?"
"No," said the Orc.
"We shall have to make do without her," said the queen. "I'm sure she had a good reason for her absence."
Albreda halted suddenly.
"What is it?" asked Kraloch, almost bumping into her.
"The circle," she replied, "it's activating."
They all watched as the runes began to glow, then a cylinder of light shot upward, bathing the entire room with its brilliance.
Albreda's eyes took a moment to adjust to the change in light, then she saw Aubrey standing in the circle, books piled to either side of her.
"What's this?" asked the druid.
"Books," said Aubrey, rather unnecessarily. "I found my great grandmother's library!"
Albreda moved forward, as did the queen. Kraloch, on the other hand, remained in pla
ce, his eyes still adjusting to the change in light.
"That's quite a collection," said Anna. "Where did you find this library?"
"It's directly beneath us," said Aubrey, "in a chamber accessible only by magic."
"Astounding," said Albreda. "I must say that's an exceedingly ingenious way of securing one's valuables, but how did she manage such a thing?"
"I imagine she roofed it in after its creation," suggested the queen, "then built the circle on the floor above. The real question is, how did you find it, Aubrey?"
"Magic," said Aubrey. "I went into the spirit realm."
"And these books," said the queen, "you think they might be able to help Revi?"
"I hope so," answered Aubrey, "but there are more below. I had to start somewhere, so I picked these." She was about to say more but then looked at the others. "Wait, why are you here? Has something happened?"
"Indeed," said the queen. "We were about to recall to Wincaster to bring troops back here as quickly as possible. Have you much strength left?"
"Enough to recall at least once or twice," said Aubrey.
"Good, then let us put these books aside for the moment. We have more pressing matters to attend to."
They stacked the books to the side of the circle, then moved into position. Albreda cast, and then they all disappeared in a cylinder of light.
* * *
Fitz watched the distant horsemen.
"It's damn inconvenient of them to be out of reach," he complained. "Why couldn't they follow the obvious strategy and attack us? At least then we could thin their ranks."
"You want them to attack?" asked Aldwin.
"We have a prepared position," explained Fitz, "and we can neutralize their advantage in mobility. So yes, I want them to attack us."
"Don't they still outnumber us?" asked the smith.
"They do, but better to wear out the attack here than farther south."
"Have you sent word to warn Tewsbury?"
"I have," said Fitz, "and the garrison there should be sufficient to man the walls, assuming they're still loyal, that is. Has the prince arrived?"
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