Defender of the Crown

by Paul J Bennett

  "He has," said Aldwin, "though he's still waiting on more horsemen."

  "How many has he?"

  "Only about a dozen so far," said the smith. He leaned forward, straining his eyes. "What's that?"

  The baron looked east to see a commotion among the Norland cavalry.

  "Something seems to be disturbing their screening force," Fitz said. "I wonder what it might be?"

  An instant later, a single rider came into sight, his horse racing towards Hawksburg, Norlanders in hot pursuit.

  "That's a Kurathian," said Fitz, "I'd swear to it. He must be a dispatch rider."

  "He'll never make it," said Aldwin, "his horse is labouring."

  "So it is," said Fitz, "but I fear there's little we can do to help him."

  They watched as the horseman slowed, his pursuer's gaining ground on him.

  Prince Alric pulled himself into the saddle. "Come," he said. "We must do what we can to help."

  A wagon had been rolled across the road to act as a defence. Men and Orcs now pulled it aside, allowing the horsemen egress. Alric trotted his mount through the opening, his men, few as they were, following along. He led them north, until the last man cleared the makeshift defences, then turned them eastward, switching from column into a line.

  "For Weldwyn!" he called out, spurring his mount forward.

  His horse wanted to race across the fields, but the prince kept it in check, the better to husband its energy.

  The Kurathian was drawing nearer, but so were his pursuers. Even as Alric watched, the warrior's mount faltered, its front legs collapsing, sending the rider tumbling to the ground. The closest Norlander roared a challenge, striking down with his sword, but the nimble Kurathian rolled aside at the last moment, and his attacker continued past.

  Alric gave the command, and his horsemen surged forward, each rider pushing his mount to the limit. Their line grew ragged as the faster horses took the lead.

  The Kurathian stood, drawing his sword and facing his attackers. Four men had been chasing him, and while the first was circling back around, the next two came thundering in. He stood, waiting until they were almost upon him, then leaped to the side. Of the two enemies, the one on his left tried to adjust his trajectory, but the Kurathian had chosen his tactic carefully, for the rider's mount stumbled over the exhausted horse, sending both warrior and beast crashing to the ground. The Kurathian rushed forward, striking down with an efficient stab of his sword, forever silencing the fallen man.

  Alric was almost within range of the lead Norlander now, and he roared out a challenge. His opponent, hearing the call, turned his mount and dug in his spurs.

  Closer they drew until Alric stood in his stirrups, extending his arm over his horse's head, leaning forward to let the weight of his mount add to the charge.

  His opponent held a similar pose, but as they met, the young prince twisted his sword slightly at the last moment, deflecting the Norlander's blade and sinking his own into the man's side. Loosening his arm up, Alric dropped the blade to yank it free and concentrate on his next target.

  Heading straight ahead, he sat back in the saddle, pulling slightly to his right just before impact. This time though, his target had turned sideways and was prepared to receive his attack. The Norlander struck out, a vicious slash from left to right. Years of training at the court of Weldwyn had taught the prince well, and he deftly parried the blow, then attacked back with a stab of his own, sinking into the lightly armoured man's side. His enemy dropped his sword, clutching at the wound. The prince, hearing his men behind him, rode onward, confident that his troops would take the man into custody.

  The lone Kurathian stood behind the body of his horse, his sword held above him, ready to parry the next attack. The last Norland rider, seeing the approach of the well-armoured Weldwyn horsemen, did the only thing he could. He turned and fled, riding off towards the east and the rest of the invading army.

  Alric pulled back on the reins, bringing his horse to a halt before the Kurathian. He scabbarded his blade and held out his hand.

  "Come," said the prince, "before they send more riders."

  The Kurathian took the proffered hand, hauling himself onto the back of Alric's horse. The prince turned his mount around and began riding back towards Hawksburg.

  "What is your name?" Alric asked.

  "I am Caluman," the man replied, "and I bring word from Commander Lanaka."

  "You are brave to race through this army of Norlanders," said Alric. "The news must be dire to attempt such a feat."

  "It is, Your Highness," said Caluman, "for a second Norland Army rides for Eastwood."

  * * *

  Evening found them gathered in the dining hall at Hawksburg Manor. Caluman had no sooner finished his meal than the questions started.

  "You say a large army was heading for Eastwood?" asked the queen.

  "It was, Your Majesty," the Kurathian replied. "Commander Lanaka followed it for as long as possible with pickets, but there can be no doubt as to their intentions."

  "What sort of numbers are we talking about?" asked Fitz.

  "Our estimates are between eighteen hundred and two thousand," said Caluman. "We managed to penetrate their scouts and reach their main force, but they were too numerous for us to do any real damage."

  "I assume they had armoured cavalry in addition to lighter horse?" asked Fitz.

  "They did, but we also encountered horse archers, my lord."

  The baron leaned forward. "Horse archers, you say? That's news to me. Did you see any archers among the army facing us, Albreda?"

  "No," she replied, "but then again, I wasn't looking for them."

  "I don't understand how they're supplying themselves," said Aldwin. "They still need to eat, don't they?"

  "They do," replied Fitz. "A very astute observation."

  "I can answer that," said Caluman, "for on one of our raids, we happened upon their supply column."

  "So they do have wagons," said Fitz. "Finally, something we can exploit."

  "Not wagons," the Kurathian corrected, "they carry their supplies on the backs of horses. These pack animals are usually led, two or three at a time, by other riders."

  "A fast-attack force carrying its own supplies," said Fitz. "That's something we hadn't counted on."

  "The Kurathians have used a similar tactic for ages," noted Caluman, "though the numbers we saw far exceed anything my people have organized."

  "So they've been planning this for years," said Fitz.

  "I wish Gerald were here," said the queen, "I would value his judgement. What are your thoughts, Baron?"

  "We are trapped between a rock and a hard place, Your Majesty. Two armies are descending upon us. Either one outnumbers our defences, let alone should they join up. They are too fast to catch and too numerous to fight with only our horsemen."

  A commotion outside drew their attention.

  "Sophie," said the queen, "open the door and let's see who intrudes upon our thoughts."

  The maid crossed the room, pulling the door aside to reveal the startled face of Sir Heward.

  "Your Majesty," the knight said, bowing. "I bring news from Wickfield."

  "I take it the village has fallen," said the queen.

  "It has, Your Majesty, though we managed to get the villagers to safety."

  "Come and sit down, Sir Heward. We were just discussing our options, having just learned that two armies are invading. One marches past us even as we speak, while the other is heading for Eastwood."

  "It seems there is little I can add," said the knight, "save that the villagers of Wickfield will be straggling in from the west over the next day or two. They are being escorted by my men, and the Wincaster bowmen, but tell me, is there not enough men here to stop the invaders?"

  "Events have taken a turn for the worst," said Fitz. "While you were in the north, there was an attempt to seize the throne. We now stand unsure of the loyalty of our troops."

  "My men are loyal, my lord," Hewa
rd declared.

  "I'm sure they are," said Fitz, "but we cannot count on the town garrisons across the realm, and without them, we are sorely outnumbered."

  "Have we a plan?"

  "Not yet," said Fitz, "though I would suggest we head south, to Tewsbury."

  "A wise move," said the queen, "but if the enemy should bypass that city, it would leave Wincaster dangerously exposed."

  "The capital is walled," said Heward.

  "Yes, but we lack the soldiers to man it properly," said Fitz.

  "They won't attack Tewsbury," said Albreda, "of that, I'm certain."

  "How can you be so sure?" asked Heward.

  "They lack the proper siege equipment," the druid responded, "and their path is leading them directly south. I believe they're riding for the Uxley-Tewsbury Road."

  "That would make sense," said Fitz, "as it would lead them directly to Wincaster."

  "But they still lack the siege equipment," said Heward.

  The queen smiled, "You're right, of course, but then again we're forgetting something, Valmar's uprising."

  "I'm afraid I don't follow," said Heward.

  "They only need someone to let them in the gates," cautioned the queen.

  "But aren't all the usurper's forces locked up," said Fitz.

  "No," said the queen, "for we lacked sufficient space to imprison them all. Many have been released on parole. It would only take a few to seize a gate."

  "And so their strategy falls into place," said Fitz. "We must start getting troops back to Wincaster at once."

  "No," said the queen, "for this invasion will not be stopped here, nor there. It is at Uxley we must make our stand."

  "Uxley?" said Heward. "But how? We lack the troops for such a battle."

  "That is where our allies will come in," said Anna.

  Twenty-Seven

  Flight

  Fall 964 MC

  * * *

  Beverly raced Lightning past the first Mercerians, heading straight for Gerald. They had been wandering the hills for days, first eastward, and now south, and then, hopefully, home. She halted before her marshal.

  "Anything of interest?" he asked.

  "Good news and bad, I'm afraid," she said. "We're almost out of the hills, but it looks like one final obstacle is before us."

  "Go on," he urged.

  "It's a bridge."

  "That's not so bad," Gerald replied, "I thought you said bad news."

  "It's over a ravine," she added.

  "And?"

  "And it's made of rope."

  Gerald stared at her a moment. "A rope bridge? Tell me you're joking."

  "I wish I were," she announced.

  "I'd better come and take a look," he said, turning in the saddle. "Lord Arnim?"

  "Yes, Marshal?"

  "I'm riding ahead with Beverly to take a look at something. You have command."

  "Yes, sir," Arnim replied.

  "Lead on, Beverly."

  Beverly quickly pivoted Lightning around, but Gerald struggled with his own mount.

  "I've never known you to have a problem with a horse," she remarked.

  "It's this damn Norland beast," he complained. "I swear these people don't know how to train their mounts." He managed to manoeuvre it into position, then urged it forward. "Finally," he said.

  They passed by the lead Mercerians, heading farther south. Less than half a mile later, they paused before a large ravine.

  "This doesn't look good," said Gerald.

  Off in the distance was the bridge that Beverly had discovered. On each side of the ravine, two posts protruded from the ground, supporting a total of four ropes. The base consisted of wooden planks attached to two bottom ropes at either end, while the other two lines formed handrails. Keeping it all together were smaller, vertical ropes, each tied off at the handrails, the excess hanging loose.

  "Getting our people across should be no problem," said Beverly, "but the horses might prove troublesome. We may have to leave them behind."

  "You'd give up Lightning?"

  "Lightning will cross," she replied, "of that, I have no doubt. He's fearless, but it's the others I'm concerned about."

  "I'd hate to lose them," said Gerald. "They give us eyes and ears. What if we led them across, one at a time?"

  "It would be slow going," she remarked, "and what if they spook halfway across?"

  "Is there some way we could calm them?"

  "We could try blindfolding them, I suppose."

  "It's worth a try," said Gerald, "but let's get most of our people across first, and that includes you. Once you're there, I want you and Lightning to keep an eye to our southern flank."

  "Very well," said Beverly, "and the rest of our warriors?"

  "We'll send the footmen across first, followed by the servants. Once they're across, I want the Guard Cavalry to cross, one at a time. We'll have to be quick about it. I don't want to be doing this in the dark."

  Beverly looked westward. "That doesn't give us much time," she said. "I suggest we wait until morning."

  "I suppose you're right," said Gerald, "it would be folly to split our group. Very well, we'll set up camp here tonight, but have some men cross to the other side of the bridge. I want them to look over the ropes and make sure they're secure."

  "Aye, Marshal."

  "It's just the two of us, Beverly, you can call me Gerald."

  She grinned, "Of course, Marshal."

  "Very funny," he said. "Now, ride back to the column and let them know what's coming. I'll start picking out an area for the camp."

  "You know," said Beverly, "this is not unlike the patrols we used to carry out back in Bodden."

  "Other than the rope bridge and the civilians, you mean."

  "Good point," said Beverly. "I'd best be off, then."

  "You've been off ever since you were knighted," he said.

  "Very funny, my lord." She made an exaggerated bow, then urged Lightning into a gallop, disappearing off to the north.

  * * *

  The sun lay low on the horizon as Gerald stood by a fire, warming his hands. The first sign of trouble was when a sentry shouted a warning.

  "Saxnor's balls," said Gerald, "can we have no peace?"

  Arnim ran towards him. "Our sentries have spotted horsemen," he called out.

  Gerald looked around, taking in the makeshift camp. "We'll never hold them here, we're too spread out. Get six men across the bridge, then the servants will cross next. Where's Beverly?"

  "Saddling her horse," said Arnim, "along with the rest of the Guard Cavalry."

  "Have your men form a line north of the bridge, but make sure there's enough room to get around them. We'll have them back up once our people are across."

  "I'll command the rearguard myself," said Arnim.

  "It's risky, my friend. If they decide to attack in force, you might be overwhelmed."

  Arnim smiled, "Then we'll die with Norland blood on our blades."

  "I'd prefer you didn't die at all," said Gerald. "We still have to cross miles of enemy territory before we get home."

  "In that case," said Arnim, "I'll do my best not to die."

  "See that you do," said Gerald.

  He waited until Arnim moved off, then turned his attention northward. His pickets had spotted the enemy, that was a good sign, but the real issue was whether or not the enemy had seen them.

  Beverly soon rode out of the darkness.

  "Did you hear?" said Gerald.

  "Aye," said Beverly, "it seems the Norlanders found us."

  "Get to the bridge, and as soon as the civilians are across, you start moving the horses. Remember, only one on the bridge at a time. We don't want to collapse the damn thing!"

  "We may not have the choice," warned Beverly.

  "Then I'll leave that up to you," said Gerald. As she left, he peered into the gloom, soon noticing firelight reflected off another horse, one of their pickets.

  "Any sign they've seen you?" Gerald asked him.r />
  "No, sir, but it won't take long before they hear the ruckus at the camp."

  Gerald looked back to his own people, struggling to cross the bridge.

  "It can't be helped," he said. "How many pickets are left out there?"

  "Only three, my lord. I sent the rest back here. I assumed you'd want them across the bridge as soon as possible."

  "Turnbull, isn't it?" said Gerald.

  "It is, my lord."

  "Well then, good thinking, Turnbull. Tell me, how long have you been in the Guard Cavalry?"

  "Only four months, my lord."

  "Then let's make sure you make it to five. Remember, no heroics, we withdraw in an orderly fashion."

  "Aye, sir."

  Gerald spotted torches being lit by the ravine, the better to guide people over the bridge. Two soldiers were already across, with a sparse stream of people following.

  "This is going to take too long," he grumbled.

  Moving south, to where the Queen's Guard had formed a thin line, he noticed Arnim standing out front, peering back into the now-abandoned camp.

  "Should we douse the fires?" Armin asked.

  "No," said Gerald. "It'll let us see how far away they are. How goes the crossing?"

  "Slower than I'd like," said Arnim.

  A horse neighed in the distance, followed by the clash of steel.

  "That's it," said Gerald, "they've found us."

  The noise had an immediate effect on the servants, for they rushed the bridge, causing it to sway. Even the soldiers looked worried.

  "Beverly," said Gerald, "take your horsemen, see if you can buy us some time."

  "Aye," she replied. She called out a command, and the Guard Cavalry turned in unison. Their manoeuvre complete, she drew her hammer, and led her men north, towards the sound of battle.

  Gerald fretted. The press of people was causing the rope bridge to swing dangerously in the middle, and he worried that it might weaken its structure, but thankfully, it was not to be. There were twenty servants among their retinue, along with two dozen of the Guard Cavalry. The rest were Arnim's guards, bringing the total to sixty-seven individuals.