The Dragon Oracles: Omnibus Edition (The Eastern Kingdom Omnibus Book 1)

by T. J. Garrett

  He stood and eyed Rarshman. “When I get to the palace, Captain, I’ll be sure to let His Majesty know your thoughts on the matter.” Rarshman opened his mouth, but Daric interrupted. “Corporal,” Daric said, looking down at Paiden while trying not to sway, “go find Grady. Tell the new lieutenant to be ready to leave in the morning. You too, you’re coming with me.” Daric pointed a shaking finger at the corporal. “And pick five good men. Oh, and ask Grady to make sure Cal and Toban know, too.”

  “I’m coming with you?” Paiden asked, eyes wide, pointing to himself.

  “Of course you are; you’re no use here, boy.” Daric managed a smile. “I’ll need some good men with me, Paiden. When you’ve found Grady, get to bed; I don’t want anyone else riding with a hangover.” Daric rubbed at his temple as he rounded the table and made his best show of leaving without appearing drunk.

  At the door, he turned. “Oh, and its Major Re’adh, Captain Rarshman.” Daric left the inn with a grin on his lips and a plan, of sorts.

  * * *

  The colonel was rifling through a tabletop full of papers when Daric barged his way into his quarters, past the bemused guard who, far from stopping him, asked if Daric wanted a stool to sit on. Daric waved him away with a belligerent “No.”

  Straightening, he slapped the guard on the shoulder and repeated himself, in a less argumentative tone. “No thank you, guardsman, I’m fine.”

  “Fine?” Colonel Le’ode put down the scroll he was reading and folded his arms. “You look anything but, ‘fine,’ Major Re’adh. What’s the meaning of all this?”

  “Pardon the intrusion, Colonel,” Daric said, as he walked to the table and leaned unsteadily against it, wishing he had taken the guardsman up on his offer of a stool. “It’s about this plan, sir. I don’t like it. I want to leave in the morning. My men and five more, we have to get to—” Daric cleared his throat and held his stomach against the looming threat of vomit. Fortunately, the feeling passed. “We have to get to the palace before it’s too late.”

  “You ‘don’t like it’?” The colonel raised an eyebrow. He clasped his hands behind his back and took a step toward Daric, who straightened up as best he could. “You know how much I hate having my plans messed with, Daric. You are to lead the regiment to Bailryn – once our numbers are sufficient.”

  “It’s not just numbers, sir; it’s the kit, the provisions, horses, carts, weapons: everything else that is needed to march two thousand men half way across Aleras’moya. It will take too long, sir. The Kel’madden will be at Bailryn and you will have to take the Townhill Road and come up from the south, which will mean another fortnight. It will all be over before you get there.”

  The colonel frowned. He dragged a stool from over by the window and insisted Daric sit on it. He then paced a while, periodically scratching at his chin – at least it seemed he was thinking about what Daric had said.

  “You’re drunk,” the colonel told him. “I understand your frustration, but these things take as long as they take. Nobody is dragging their heels. I’m not changing my plans unless you can come up with something better. What do you suggest I do? March now and pick up folk along the way?”

  “Well, to tell you the truth, that would be better, but I was thinking about the scrolls – Kirin’thar’s scrolls.” The colonel looked confused. “The Cren, sir; we need the Cren. They are eight feet tall and fierce like you would not believe; their women can skewer a man with an arrow at two hundred paces. I would sooner have fifty of them than a thousand old-timers, sir.”

  The general slapped his hand on the desk. “You hold your tongue, Major. Those men are volunteers; I will not have them belittled by you, or anybody else; not when each one risks his life for his king. Do you hear me?”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but this is no time for sentiment. You are wasting precious days here. Rarshman can lead these men east. I need to be in Bailryn. If we change horses at Redgate and Oxley, we can be there in five days, maybe four. Please, let me do my job.”

  “Ha, you want Rarshman to lead in a regiment. I thought you didn’t like the man.”

  “If we don’t hurry, he won’t be leading them to anywhere but a siege. The Cren are closer… and faster; you should see their horses! We could have two thousand Cren in Bailryn in less than a week.”

  “And you think the king will agree to that, do you? I know you’re no politician, Daric, so let me enlighten you: the king will not allow a foreign force into Bailryn on your say so.”

  “I will have to persuade him, sir.”

  Daric sighed; he knew he was getting angry, and that wouldn’t do, not with Amerkin Le’ode. “Sir, it doesn’t matter if it’s the Cren, or the Eurmacians or the Kel’mai. What matters are the bloody Kel’madden; that they see we’re not alone. They’re strong, but they won’t want to fight the whole of Moyathair. They are counting on our arrogance, sir, counting on us not asking for help.”

  “And now you’re calling the king ‘arrogant.’ Forget what I said; maybe you are a politician.”

  The colonel brushed his fingers through his greying hair.

  Daric let the colonel think. He was a good man; he’d see sense, eventually.

  “All right, Daric, I’ll go along with your plan, and I’ll even give you a letter of recommendation. I suggest you let the king read it before you say too much. Your mouth is likely to land you in the dungeon.

  “You’re right, of course; we need all the help we can get. But the king needs to at least look as if he is in charge. No good will come from trying to bully the man. You understand?”

  “Yes, sir, and thank you, sir.” Daric saluted and rose to leave.

  The colonel returned the salute. “You best tell your men to make ready, then get yourself off to bed… after you drink a few pints of water, that is.”

  “I’ve already told them, sir.” Daric smiled. And the colonel laughed.

  CHAPTER 22

  The Devil You Know

  As far as Cal was concerned, the Great Western Road was no different to the road from Crenach to Cul’taris. Wider, yes, and showing more signs of wear and tear, but it was still a hard-packed dirt road with far too much open space on either side. He missed the forest.

  The land had begun to change, though. After the first day, the vast, monotonous expanse that was the Taris Grassland gave way to the hillier countryside of the Karan foothills – still Taris, but there were more trees here. They had crossed the oversized stream by dawn on the second day, and by midmorning, they had almost reached Redgate…

  …That was when the rain came.

  Daric had the small troop turn north as soon as the black clouds began to swell in the western sky. By the time the heavens opened, they were all safely dismounted and sheltering under the branches of oak and elm within a small copse of trees a half mile north off the road.

  Daric sat on a stump, cradling his head in his hands, while Paiden, the young corporal and friend to the new major, made a small fire for tea. Yesterday, Cal had watched with amusement as Daric spent half the morning quickly dismounting from his horse and vomiting by the roadside. He was still suffering from a headache a day later. Cal had offered him some kalli root the previous evening, but Daric had refused. Maybe he would accept now.

  “Here,” Cal said, handing Daric a small wrap of kalli. “Put this in your tea.” Daric raised his hand in refusal again. “Take the kalli, Daric. Stop being so stubborn. We are too close to the border for you to have a hangover; how will you fight if you can’t stand without feeling sick?”

  Daric put his waterskin to one side and took the cup of tea Paiden offered. With a look of resignation, he raised the cup toward Cal.

  “Good,” Cal said. “You Surabhans are worse than children when it comes to taking medicine.” He tapped the contents of the wrap into Daric’s cup and stirred the tea with his dagger. The powder fizzed as it dissolved into the hot tea.

  “I hope that’s clean,” Daric said, nodding at the dagger.

  “Cle
aner than your cup, my friend,” Cal said, wiping the dagger with a leaf plucked from a lemonberry bush.

  Daric sniggered as he took a sip of tea, then nodded approvingly at the cup. “You know, this stuff makes Paiden’s tea halfway drinkable.”

  Paiden raised an eyebrow, and Toban woofed with laughter at Daric’s remark. Cal did not understand northern humour, how it was that insults would often leave them in fits of laughter – especially the wolf. He smiled, despite his lack of understanding – no harm in making an effort to fit in.

  “Do you think we are in danger here?” Paiden asked Daric while hanging the water pot back over the fire.

  The major grunted and gave the corporal a dismissive wave.

  Paiden looked to Cal, and shrugged. It wasn’t the first time Daric had avoided answering the corporal’s questions.

  Cal sat by the fire and stretched out his long legs, resting his back against the same stump Daric was sitting on. He began checking his bowstring while he answered the corporal’s question. “I can’t say for sure that we are in danger, Corporal.” Cal looked up at the young man. “What is your name, by the way? Your given name, I mean.”

  “It’s Ash, sir – Ashon Paiden, but most just call me Ash.”

  “Well, Ash, I’m not expecting the Kel’madden to come charging over the horizon, but we can’t rest easy; Faelen may not have been the only traitor.” Cal heard Daric mutter his agreement.

  “And let’s not forget,” Daric said, pointing in Paiden’s direction while still looking at his cup, “we don’t know where the foolish man is. I would not be surprised if he turns up on the road with a few of his friends.”

  The young corporal leaned forward to deposit a handful of twigs onto the fire; he looked concerned. “‘Friends…’ Do you… are you expecting him to cause trouble?”

  Daric leaned forward and held out his empty cup for a refill – it seemed he was feeling better. “I’m quite sure the man knows what we are doing, Corporal. I don’t doubt for a minute that we’ll hear from him before we reach Bailryn. Why do you think I asked for the extra men?”

  Paiden’s eyes widened. “I just thought… I mean, I just assumed it was customary, or something. I didn’t realise you had planned all this so carefully.” Paiden’s lips cut a wry smile. “You were very drunk, sir, if you don’t mind my saying so. I’m amazed you had the wherewithal to plan this far ahead.”

  Daric scoffed. Apparently, he didn’t want reminding of his drunken exploits. “It wasn’t a plan, corporal,” he said. “There’s always the possibility of attack, I was just being cautious. If Faelen does have friends this far west, I doubt there will be more than a dozen. He’ll think twice before engaging us. But don’t you worry; like I said, it’s only a precaution.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t worried, sir,” Paiden said. “I was… well, I was just admiring your forethought on the matter. Now it seems it was just…”

  “Oh don’t stop, Corporal, I’ll take the compliment,” Daric said, laughing, and Grady grunted, “Yes, he’ll take compliments from anyone.”

  “Ah, you’ve decided to wake up, have you?” Daric said to Grady.

  Grady had been quiet since leaving Gieth’eire, Cal noticed. The new lieutenant seemed not to relish his promotion any more than Daric had. Cal didn’t know why; to him, Grady had always acted diligently and responsibly; he thought the lieutenant would have been happy with the extra duty.

  “Yes, I have woken up, Major,” Grady said. “Hard to sleep with all this rain. How far are we from Redgate? Is it worth a soaking to get to an inn?”

  “It’s not far,” Daric told him, “but still a couple of hours. We should wait; I don’t think this storm will last much longer.” He looked up through the canopy as he spoke.

  “I agree,” Cal said, as he, too, looked westwards. The horizon appeared much brighter; another hour and the rain should stop – or at least ease off long enough for them to move on. “We should be able to spend the night at this Redgate.”

  Cal would have been happy enough to stay put, but he knew the others would like a bed and some good home-cooked food. Thinking about it, he wouldn’t mind the food, either.

  “Well, if it doesn’t stop,” Grady said, “we can always go back to that farm we passed. There was a big barn, and I bet they have enough food to spare, judging by the amount of livestock in the fields.”

  “That’s Etan Wild’s farm,” Paiden said. “He’s one of the volunteers. I saw him the morning we left Gieth’eire. He has five daughters; I don’t think he would want us descending on them.”

  “Who said anything about ‘descending,’ Corporal?” Daric said. “Besides, its war, and we would pay for the food.”

  Grady grinned. “How old are his daughters?”

  Paiden laughed. “Too young for… Uh… sorry, sir. I think the oldest is my age, sir.”

  “Are you calling me ‘old,’ Corporal?”

  “No, sir, it’s just that… you are… it’s…”

  “Ignore him, Corporal,” Daric said. “He’s pulling your leg, boy. Don’t listen to—”

  Si’eth’s interrupted. “It’s a matter of class, grunt,” the Salrian said, turning his gaze to the fat guardsman he had been arguing with earlier – Cal had not learned their names yet.

  “There you go again, pretending all things are equal. You’re a bloody Salrian, Si’eth; everybody knows you lot are stupid and will do anything for a fight.”

  “So, we are stupid?” Si’eth growled, pointing at himself. “Tell me, Ialin, can you even read?” Si’eth said, thrusting the book he was reading in the fat Guardsman’s direction.

  The guardsman waved him off.

  Si’eth continued, “Don’t call me stupid because I believe in the rights of my people, grunt. And contrary to what you might have heard, we Salrians very rarely start fights.”

  “You don’t finish them very often, either,” the fat man laughed. He turned to his friends, but none joined in with him. Seemed it was only the fat man who had a problem with the Salrian.

  Si’eth stood and squared up to Ialin. He kept moving forward, forcing the fat man to back-peddle until he tripped on a fallen branch and fell on his backside.

  Daric nodded to Grady.

  “That’ll do, you two,” Grady said, standing. He placed himself between the two men. Si’eth bowed and sat back down.

  Grady turned to Ialin, who was back on his feet, and didn’t bow.

  “Why is he here?” the fat man asked. “His kind should be over the border, not heading for Bailryn?”

  Grady sighed and was about to speak…

  “He represents our Salrian allies,” Daric said without looking up. The major slowly raised his head and stared at Ialin. “Yes, that’s right, soldier; the Salrians are our allies. If you think we don’t need him, then you’re a fool. Right now, I’d be happy to see a thousand of them crossing the—”

  Daric raised his hand for silence, then turned quickly to the west. “Did you hear that?” he asked.

  Cal had heard it: a horn blast. “Is that one of your signals?”

  “No, we use trumpeters.” Daric stood. He threw the dregs of his tea onto the fire. “Corporal, get on your horse and scout around north. Keep your head down. First sign of trouble, you come back.” Paiden jumped to his feet and ran to his horse. “The first sign of trouble, Corporal, you hear me, do not engage,” Daric called after him.

  “Aye, sir. Don’t worry about that; I’m no hero,” Paiden said, before mounting his grey mare and riding north through the trees.

  Grady picked up his pack and moved to his horse. “Come on, you lot,” he said to the other five guardsmen. “We are leaving. Get your gear packed up and stand ready.”

  The soldiers scrambled around the camp, packing their gear, checking the horses. One poured water on the fire while another kicked dirt over the embers. Cal checked the saddle on his huge Kalidhain Tall Horse, while Toban stood at the western edge of the trees, his ears pricked.

  “I hear horses,�
�� the wolf said.

  “How many?” Daric asked him.

  “Maybe twenty. They are west and south of us.”

  Grady paused with a saddle strap in his hand. “They’re trying to force us north, away from the road.”

  Cal didn’t know if Grady was asking a question or stating a fact.

  Daric shook his head. “Let’s wait and see. We don’t know who they are, yet. They could be a scouting party from Redgate.”

  Daric said the words, but Cal knew well that the major feared the worst. Whoever they were, they were trying to cut them off from their path back to the road and, as Grady had said, force them north, away from Redgate.

  Paiden wasn’t gone more than five minutes when Cal saw him returning from the southwest. He had circled around the field and was riding hard.

  “Two groups, sir,” Paiden said, as he drew his horse level with Daric. “They’re dressed in black half-armour.”

  “The Black Hand,” Daric said, and Paiden’s eyes widened.

  Daric continued, “Faelen is working with others, we know that much from his escape, but I’m surprised the Black Hand have come this far west. They must have been here all along.”

  “Well, that would explain a few things,” Grady said. “We’ll have to go to the farm, now.”

  Paiden rounded on the lieutenant. “We can’t! What about the women and children?”

  Daric eased himself into his saddle. “We don’t have any choice, Corporal; if they catch us out in the open, we are done for. We can’t fight three to one without cover.”

  Paiden looked angry but said nothing. He turned his horse and moved into position at Daric’s side.

  “Single file, men,” Daric shouted. “Don’t spare the horses; we’ll ride through the middle of them, straight to the farm. Once there, I want you three up high with your bows.” Daric stared at the three men to his right; they didn’t look like they understood. “Are you awake?” Daric growled. “Get in line, and don’t wait for orders. When we get there, I want you up top in that barn, covering their approach. Is that clear?”