“Fall back!” he called and the line of men to either side stood and retreated to the back side of the hill as Karands and Makkurans swarmed up the incline, dodging between the trees. On the other side a line of defenders two deep with spears and pikes protected the archers behind them. “Archers fall back to the next ridge and cover us!” The archers hefted their bows and quivers of arrows before running down the backside of the hill. Aemon passed through the line then looked in both directions to be sure the line was formed up properly and there were no gaps. Satisfied he faced the ridge top with his sword in hand.
The enemy crested the ridge howling war cries and ran right into the steel tipped weapons. The first rank of attackers fell, too surprised to even cry out. After that it was a swinging match. Aemon wielded his sword with nearly as much skill as he had in his youth. They fought and fell back, fought and fell back, all the way down to the valley floor.
A ball of something bright streaked through the air and slammed into one of his men, engulfing him in fire. He looked to the ridge that was above them now and saw another ball of fire leave a robed man’s hand. “Wizards,” he cursed. Stepping behind his men he looked for Jenarus and Ennius. They were half way up the next ridge. They stood with their arms raised to the sky. The gray clouds that had covered the sky all day started to darken. A rumbling like thunder echoed across the land. He heard screeches from the sky and wondered what the two men were up to. Dark shapes flew over the ridge and swooped upon his men, ripping with long claws. That was the source of the screeches he heard. Orgog they were supposedly called. All of a sudden lightning struck from the sky, frying one of those creatures in mid-flight. More lightning fell among the attacking army creating great holes in their ranks.
That was the distraction they needed to break off from the enemy. His small army ran up the next hillside right past the two wizards who continued their powerful display. Another of the creatures swept towards the two. Aemon was forced to watch as a bolt of lightning struck it, but not before its sharp claws dug into the younger Ennius. The poor wizard fell dead. Jenarus was forced from his concentration and stared at his pupil. Aemon ran past and towards the cover of the archers above.
“Come on!” he yelled at Jenarus, but the wizard was already occupied.
Another bolt fell at one of the Maji, but stopped short by some invisible wall. The opposing wizard threw one of his balls of fire at Jenarus who knocked it aside comptemptuously with a wave of his hand.
Aemon noticed the change in wind. What had been blowing easterly now was moving west. Lightning struck the earth again, but this time it was on his side of the valley. Luckily his men were already running down into the next valley over for the horses that had been left there in case they were needed for escape. His archers continued to fire at the enemy below them to give the others as much time as possible to reach their mounts. With the lightning no longer concentrated on them the enemy was regrouping for another attack.
The Karands and Makkurans came on again as the lightning ceased altogether. They howled and charged up the hill but more slowly than the first time. Some of the fire had gone out of them. Aemon readied himself to face the attack. If he could hold them off long enough then his men could get away. Several others joined him at the ridge top ready to stand with him. They were dirty, grim-faced men. Not a one without several dents in their armor or blood splattered across their fronts.
With impeccable timing his red cloaked horsemen galloped across the valley floor sweeping in from the south. Some of the Karands saw the new threat and ran in the other direction, some even threw down their weapons in fear. The more disciplined Makkurans tried to turn and stand their ground. The Taragosan cavalry took the enemy in the rear. They cut a wide swath through them, but instead of turning and finishing the job they pushed their horses onward until they could ride up the hill.
One of the mounted warriors veered off from the others and came towards Aemon. The rider stopped before him. “Do you want to finish this group or pull back?”
“Let’s get out here before more lightning falls,” the King of Taragosa ordered. He took one last look at the spot where Jenarus had been standing. The wizard was no longer there. A quick scan showed the gray cloaked figure hurrying up and over the ridge line to his left. Aemon smiled and followed after him.
Elthzidor sat in the chair next to the temporary table inside the tent that was set up a league away from the river. A man in a dark red robe entered.
“Is it over?” Elthzidor asked in his deep, sonorous voice.
“It is, Ra Majin. Our forces are crossing in large numbers now,” Kere replied.
“Losses?”
“Two thousand, mostly Karands.”
“And the other side?”
“About five hundred. That includes one of the two wizards who opposed us.”
“Excellent,” Elthzidor said pleased at the news. That would be one less to worry about later. He had felt the power they had used in calling the clouds and the lightning and was impressed. He had more Maji to call upon, but not all of them were as strong. “Did we lose any?”
“Only one master. Nehkut. He was overrun by their cavalry at the end.”
A frown came to Elthzidor’s face. “And the Orgog?”
“Three were lost to the lightning.”
That was something to think about. He would have to use them on the ground to spearhead the attacks when they faced opposing wizards. They were too vulnerable in the air. “How long until the army has completed the crossing?”
“Tomorrow afternoon.”
Then it was time to take care of some loose ends. “Torvilin is no longer as vital to my plans as he was.” Now that they had finished crossing Voltia he was no longer useful. It was now far more risky to leave the woman alive then to lose the Voltian’s support. “Send word to our contacts. The girl is no longer protected. I want her dead.” Maybe he should leave it to Meneroe? The man’s attack on her life had been premature, but it did show his convictions. His other information had not yet been proved, but Naras did say he had seen Coran in the North. That was from Selisk who had finally sent a message saying she had found Naras. He wondered who Meneroe’s hidden spy was. The man had claimed to have someone close to the girl. “And make sure that our new friend, Lord Meneroe, receives the word too. Let us see what he can deliver.”
“At once.” Kere bowed before leaving.
He had to wonder if things were going as well as he hoped. Nehkut was one of the lesser of the Maji, but all would be needed. Maji Irendy was in Daes Shael with the reinforcements. Sikaan was in the East under Bedalsh, who was keeping an eye on things there. Nestera should be on her way here by now with Trelani. They might not arrive in time though. Otherwise, he had Kere and five more of the Maji with him. That would not be good. He needed Nestera to give him a clear advantage. Or he could recall Anaaris. No. What he was doing was far too important.
The battle was not a good sign either. His army had lost four for every enemy killed. Of course, his battle plan was not in use yet, and if the boy dies he will have won. If the girl dies it will be as good as won. It was just a matter of time. A month at the most, maybe as little as three weeks and it would be decided.
Chapter 38
The Rose of Summer
Torvilin stood inside the purple striped tent that was used as a command post for the forces under his control who patrolled the river watching for any attempted crossing by Holdon. He was listening to a young captain who was obviously upset by the news he brought.
“I still don’t know why your father did not send for help if he intended to attack. It makes no sense.”
Torvilin ignored the knowing look from his friend beside him. Faroun knew very well that there had been messages. He also knew that Torvilin had burned them unopened.
“Will you be returning to Volton to be crowned?” the young captain asked.
“No. There is too much to do right now. I need you to keep up the patrols here,” he ordered th
e captain.
“Are you going somewhere, Your Majesty?” he questioned sounding confused.
“Yes. I am taking a detachment with me. I will be gone for a time.” Torvilin liked the sound of being called Majesty. It was too bad that he would not have a Kingdom for much longer.
“Yes, Majesty.” The captain excused himself.
“You have a problem, Faroun?” he asked the remaining man in the tent who was eyeing him darkly.
“Where are you going now?”
“To make sure I get what I was promised.”
“You have the throne, leave it at that,” Faroun suggested strongly. “If you leave now who will protect the Kingdom?”
“The Destroyer take the Kingdom!” Torvilin spat, and Faroun recoiled. “I will have all of Midia and Katelyn will be my Queen.”
“You would bring harm on the people of Voltia for your selfishness?” Faroun said in shock.
“We have known each other for a long time Faroun. Do not presume on that friendship any further,” Torvilin told him dangerously.
Faroun stared at him defiantly for a moment, then the fire left his eyes and he dropped his head.
“That is better. Now ready the men who will accompany me. You can come too if you wish,” he offered with a thin smile.
Faroun frowned at him, turned and left the tent.
Torvilin was finally alone. The truth was that he didn’t trust Elthzidor to keep his side of the bargain now that he had gotten what he wanted, passage through Voltia, and Holdon kept out of the way. He was leaving to go and make sure it had been worth it.
Remembering the maps, he would have to keep to the edge of the mountains to avoid detection. Taragon might not be very welcoming towards Voltians right now. Then it was an exposed journey down the river. Dangerous, but he was not going to miss the destruction of the Western Kingdoms, or miss his chance to collect his reward.
Faroun stood outside Torvilin’s tent. The temporary structure was at one end of the camp. He knew that this was madness. For many years he had known that Torvilin was not like other people. He was cruel for one thing, and self-centered, but he had always spoken of the great things he would do for Voltia when he was King. That had all changed a year ago when Torvilin decided he wanted Katelyn. Torvilin always got what he wanted. After Westhaven she became an obsession for him. She and Coran Tyelin. Faroun had been forced to listen to the various ways his friend envisioned killing the man who had humiliated him, and even worse in Torvilin’s mind, the man who had what he wanted.
Now Faroun had to watch as his friend betrayed their home. The problem was that Torvilin had saved his life, twice. What could he do?
There was a cold bite to the air, but otherwise it was a perfect day for traveling. There were no clouds to obscure the brilliant blue of the sky. Katelyn felt good as she entered the courtyard where the others waited for her in order to depart. She wore the black pants and high boots for riding and the blue shirt with a golden sun on the left breast. A dark blue cloak hung about her shoulders. Coran’s gift was in the black leather sheath at her side. Her hair was left unbound and the crown was in the care of Alys who waited patiently with the reins to both their mounts.
Her brown haired friend wore the outfit of brown pants and a white shirt made especially for her. A new addition was the short sword at her hip. Katelyn had it made for her when she had shown how much her skills had progressed.
“Ready?” Alys asked and handed her control of Arya, her solid black horse. The girl went around to the side of her own brown mare, put a foot in the stirrup and swung into the saddle with only a little difficulty.
“Ready to get out of here,” she answered and mounted as well. Settling herself in the saddle she glanced about the yard.
Oran was leading a tall gray towards them from the stables. Thalamus followed with a white stallion. She could have sworn that there were no white horses in there before. The wizard must have brought it with him. The other two wizards were with him as well. Martin was already mounted and waiting patiently with an escort of ten Knights. One of them was inevitably the man Renly. The two Knights in the lead carried banners that hung limply as the walls were blocking any breeze. One of the banners was the golden sun and its rays on a field of blue, it was the flag of Summerhall. She was surprised by the other banner when she recognized it. It was a golden sun with short rays shining on a single rose, the background was also blue. The sun and rose was her personal sign. Someone must have come up with the idea without telling her.
No one else was there to see them off. She had said her goodbyes to her sister that morning and to her mother the night before. She waited for the wizard and the Lord Oran to mount. They all came together before the open gates. The guards on duty were older men who had rejoined the guard to help defend the city while the rest were away fighting.
She took the lead with Martin at her side. Behind them came Oran, Alys and the three wizards, the banner men and then the rest of the escort in a column of twos. They passed through the gates and then the streets of Summerhall. The departure was not announced so the people who saw her hastily got out of the way and bowed or curtsied despite the fact that she was not wearing her crown. The faces she saw reflected the people’s worry, uncertainty, fear, and most of all hope. They must realize where she was going and why. The citizens always seemed to understand more than you thought they did. Many of those faces held the same anxious look that Martin’s had when he learned she would be with the army. How many of those hopeful looks would dim to despair if she did not return? How many men going out to fight would fight that much harder knowing she was with them? Risk accompanied every decision. She would do what she had to do.
The wide street led straight to the Knight’s gate and the bridge that spanned the east fork of the Greenriver. More guards were there and they were of a more average age, newer recruits left behind for now until their training was complete, or until the situation demanded even the untrained being thrown into the fray. They rode past the buildings gathered together around the crossroads on this side of the river. Nearby the walls of the Knight’s compound rose up above the rest. As the road they followed reached the top of a hill the city disappeared behind them. She wondered if she had seen it for the last time.
The rest of the Knights of Soros waited for them along the road. Nearly two thousand strong in full armor and golden capes. It was an impressive sight.
She led the rest towards the front of the long column and set out for Stockton. Her head was held high and the banners behind her billowed in the wind.
As the day wore on she found herself no longer at the front, but behind a score of Knights that led the way for her protection. Martin had scouts out as well. The fact that their allies would be the only other forces in the area seemed not to register with the Commander. She never commented on it though. It was his responsibility and she would not second guess him when he was probably right.
Camp was set up outside a fair sized town as the day’s last light faded from the world. She could have stayed in the comfort of some inn, but decided against it. If she had then the place would have been taken over by her escort and she would not have loyal citizens tossed out into the night to sleep under a hedge. The expense of it wasn’t necessary either, but the real reason was that she wanted the men to see her traveling the same as them. She had gained their personal loyalty without really trying and didn’t want to risk losing it. Loyalty was something that was difficult to keep and harder to obtain.
After the tents were up fires were laid and the business of the evening meal was started. Alys found herself with little to do as Renly cooked for them and served them as well. He also took care of their dishes afterwards. She exchanged a wondering glance with Alys. Maybe it was time to have a talk with Martin about the over attentive Knight.
She got her opportunity the next day on the road under another clear sky. She urged her mount forward to fall in beside the Commander. They rode for a time while she decided how be
st to broach the subject. It was Martin who broke the silence first.
“Was there something you wanted, your Majesty?”
“I was curious about Renly,” she said slowly. “Why is he on my detail so often?”
Martin frowned in confusion. “He volunteered. I thought he would do a better job having asked for it. Is there some problem?”
“I am not sure,” she answered. Why would he ask for the job? Could he be another spy? She pushed that thought away. She was being paranoid. “It is just that he has been...over attentive.”
“Over attentive? How so?”
She explained about last night and that led to the way he tried to talk to her at other times. Martin listened carefully, his face went from a deeper frown to the beginnings of a smile. “Is there something amusing about this Commander?”
“Ah, no,” he said wiping the grin away. “His behavior is improper and I will speak with him about it.” There was something in his voice that made her ask. “Do you understand something that I do not?”
His mouth fought the smile that threatened to return. “I forget, sometimes, why men do things, especially with my mind occupied with the coming battle.”
“What do you mean?” she said before he could continue.
“You forget that you are a beautiful young lady.”
Her mouth opened but nothing came out.
“I fear that young Renly is quite taken with you.” He definitely smiled that time, but she let it go. “I will speak with him,” he assured her.
She nodded her head and let her horse fall back to where she had been next to Alys. Were all men so easily taken by a pretty face? She wondered. No, not all. She decided.
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