“And you will return by winter’s end?” Taran asked.
“At the earliest,” Aran replied, “Look for us by early spring, but we may be delayed by late-season snowfalls, so do not be alarmed if we are late.”
“How long should we wait, my lord?” asked Urskar. “In Andur’s name we cannot afford to be delayed in the south too close to summer. We will have sufficient people at home to plant the summer crops, but by harvesting we will need all the fyrd back at their villages, else we will be courting famine.”
Aran smiled wryly, “I fear Commander, that if we don’t return by summer we will most likely be not returning at all. In that case the Province must look to its defenses.”
Aran looked around at the glum faces, “Is there anything else?”
There was silence and some head shaking as the Commanders digested that information.
Aran then turned to the soldiers, “I dislike farewells. Mind you keep yourselves safe, and protect the Province for me in my absence.”
Captain Taran bowed, “My lord. We will allow the Thakur not one acre of our land.”
“Not one life will be lost in vain, my lord,” added Sennar with a forced laugh, failing completely to hide his misery in blustering cheerfulness.
Aran reached out to clasp Taran on the shoulder, “Don’t worry Captain. I’ll make certain Alissa comes to no harm.”
Taran nodded heavily, “I will go now and say my goodbyes to her.”
Then suddenly, in the dirty slush he knelt down before Aran, “Ride a safe road my king! May the Goddess and Andur’s name protect you in your journeying.”
Heavily he pulled himself to his feet and turning as if to go he murmured, “Don’t look for me at the gate my lord, I too hate goodbyes…”
*
“Are all ready?”
Aran stared about him at the small knot of horses and soldiers by the gap where the main gate of the enclosure would soon be erected. He counted heads and only came up with ten, they were still six short.
“We are waiting only on the mages,” Darven said dryly seeing Aran’s frown. “As usual they seem to be deep in their own preparations and unwilling to be disturbed or hurried.”
Aran glanced towards the enclave then shaking his head at their tardiness suddenly grinned, “You know I am awfully tempted to just ride off without them.”
Darven grinned too, “I only hope they prove themselves useful additions to the group. I for one will not tolerate hangers-on.”
Alissa looked up from where she had been fiddling with her horse’s tack and checking the fit for the umpteenth time.
“I can see them now…the Archmage is with them.”
Aran looked over towards the approaching group and his face grew still, “I hope he does not think to join us. It will be already a hard enough journey with six mages entangling our way, without adding the Archmage to it.”
Alissa shook her head, “His place is with the rest of the Glaive mages, besides he is far too old to attempt such an undertaking.” She frowned, “I already have concerns about the fitness of Mages Trevan and Trenny.”
Aran smiled, “Don’t worry about Trevan. He’s the one mage who could keep the pace…indeed I believe I think he will be the one most likely to set the speed of the march.”
Bini grinned at that, “He is like the old ones of the plainspeople, all hoary and weathered, and yet with a resolve of steel.”
Darven laughed, “Bini, you are yet turning into a bard. I am mightily glad that you are travelling with us. By Andur, by the time we return you will be as well skilled with words as to give even the august Councillors pause.”
Aran grinned when he heard the friendly banter of his companions, and then turned and looked across as the mages led their horses and the pack animals into their midst.
“My lord King Arantur,” Archmage Maran said gravely and formally, “I am most saddened by this leave taking.”
Aran’s lips quirked imperceptibly at that, but nevertheless he courteously inclined his head, “My lord Archmage, we go to do battle against our greatest enemy,” he replied equally formally. “Will you give us the Blessing for the Road?”
Maran nodded, “I shall, but first you must know that the mages of Glaive have not been idle over the past few hours.” He pointed over to the pack horses, “You will find already secured all necessary backpacks, furs and equipment that will ensure your survival in the mountains. There is fresh food packed that will see you through to Glade, and for the mountains we have prepared in especially sealed and oiled packages, portions of dried meats, vegetables and fruits that you will be able to either heat or eat as they are.”
Bini spoke up, “My lord…my aim with the bow is true. We will feast every night on wild fowl and other game.”
“Plainsman, there will be little game in the winter mountains,” Drayden interrupted, “So we will not feast, but instead dry your kills for later meals.”
Aran saw Bini shrug at that.
“Glade will also supplement your supplies,” Maran went on, ignoring the interruptions. “Out of the fibres of their plants they make some of the lightest and strongest ropes. Ropes you may well need when you reach the walls of Erie.”
Aran nodded, “The small leather emergency tents have already been packed. They will accommodate two, besides each man has an oiled, leather groundsack in which to sleep.”
He then turned to stare at the distant Trident Range, “We will take as much as we can carry into the mountains, if it proves to be too much then we will have to dig caches in the snow to off-load any unnecessary gear.”
“Then there is little else I can do to assist you,” Maran said at last. “I am so sorry that it has come to this, but by the Goddess it is the only way the Province will be ensured peace.”
Aran nodded and stepping up to the Archmage, firmly clasped his shoulder.
“Then wish us well and all speed.”
Maran returned the clasp, “Ride a safe road, and May the Goddess and Andur’s name protect you all.”
“And everyone here” intoned Aran formally, “Look for us in the spring!”
Then, with sudden and swift motion, the group of sixteen soldiers and mages mounted their horses. Looking about and seeing that everyone was at last ready, Aran held out his arm to indicate all should ride on. With scarcely a word or even a backward glance, the group rode from the Legion camp. Silently, the remaining Guard and legio watched the small group leave the relative protection of the fort. Few knew of their mission, although most guessed where they were bound. Those who knew muttered prayers for the safekeeping of those bound on that perilous western journey.
**
End of Book Two
The third and final title in the ‘Riothamus’ trilogy is called ‘Warriormage’.
*
Other fiction titles by Rosemary Fryth
Heroic Epic Fantasy Trilogy ‘RIOTHAMUS’:
Book One ‘Arantur’
Book Two ‘The High King’
Book Three ‘Warriormage’
*
Contemporary Dark Fantasy Trilogy ‘THE DARKENING’:
Book One ‘Dark Confluence’
Book Two ‘Dark Destination’
(Forthcoming - Book Three ‘Dark Destiny’)
Other titles by Rosemary Fryth:
‘Elemental’ (A book of poems)
http://www.rosemaryfryth.com/
The High King: Book Two of the 'Riothamus' trilogy Page 33