Jaymin adjusted his cloak and prepared to walk forward as Erik gave him an encouraging grin. He was grateful that his friend seemed to bear him no ill will after their quarrel that morning. Though he knew Erik still felt he had made a mistake, at least he seemed to have set his feelings aside and accepted Jaymin’s decision, along with whatever consequences it might bring.
“And now,” the general was saying,” I have some news that I trust will come as a welcome surprise. We have with us a special guest who would like to say a few words before you depart on your mission.”
Jaymin straightened his shoulders and assumed his most regal bearing.
“I have the privilege of welcoming before us his Royal Highness Prince Jaymin the Fourth, son of the late King Jaymin the Third and Queen Esarelle, heir to the throne of Alasia!”
Jaymin strode forward toward the platform, his steps purposeful and his gaze straight ahead. He could feel the astonishment and joy rippling through the soldiers’ ranks as he passed, and some even gasped out loud. Unlike Korram, they obviously had not suspected that he was alive. Reaching the makeshift platform, he mounted the step and gave a formal nod of acknowledgement to General Dirken, who bowed formally in return and stepped aside.
Jaymin turned to face his audience. Thirty-six of his kingdom’s finest soldiers gazed at him in awe and wonderment. Startled out of their military stiffness, several stood openmouthed, and tears of astonished joy shone in the eyes of more than one. Most remembered to bow as he turned toward them, the rest hastily following suit a second later. Jaymin smiled, enjoying their looks of surprise and joy. This was exactly the response he had expected. It was both humbling and fulfilling to see how thrilled they were to see him alive.
“Fellow citizens of Alasia,” he began, but he got no further. There was a sudden pounding of hooves, and a single horseman burst out of the trees in a wild gallop. He reined his mount to such a sudden stop beside the platform that the horse skidded and practically sat down on its haunches in its effort to stop in time. Without even noticing Jaymin, the man whirled toward General Dirken, his eyes wild.
“General! There’s a Malornian army on its way! It’s practically reached Camp Four!”
A murmur of horror ran through the assembled soldiers. From behind them, Korram leaped to his feet, swearing.
“How many?” General Dirken snapped.
“At least two thousand, sir! Maybe three!”
Jaymin crossed the platform in two steps and jumped down to stand beside the general just as Korram dashed over to join them. “I swear I didn’t betray you!” Korram breathed, his eyes almost as wild as the horseman’s. “The messenger must have!”
It was Dannel, Jaymin thought with certainty, and could have kicked himself for not anticipating this. Erik had been right after all. The double agent must have gone straight to Regent Rampus last night with the news that Prince Jaymin was in the army camp, and Rampus must have gathered his troops and marched straight for the forest to finish what he had begun.
Jaymin glanced across the clearing to where his friend still waited behind the soldiers, and their eyes met, but there was no “I told you so” in Erik’s look. No surprise, either. Just worry.
Aloud, Jaymin said quickly, “I believe you, Korram. Do you think you can stop them?”
“I’ll try. I’ll ride out and meet them before they get here. Maybe if Rampus is with them I can place him under arrest right now. Maybe I can convince his soldiers to do what I say. I’ll bring my horsemen with me.” His words tumbled over each other in his haste. Ernth appeared beside him with their horses, and Korram vaulted into the saddle.
“We’ll be right behind you with backup,” Jaymin called after him. He was certain, as convincing as Korram might be, that it wouldn’t be enough. Not if Rampus knew he was here. It was going to come down to battle now no matter what the other prince said. He knew it was. Surely Korram knew it too.
Korram raised a hand in acknowledgement as he wheeled his horse and galloped away, Ernth close behind him. Jaymin wondered suddenly whose side Korram’s horsemen would be on. The ones who weren’t Mountain Folk, that is. Had he even spoken to them yet about Rampus? Well, it was too late to worry about that now.
Jaymin spun around to face the messenger again. “Do our other soldiers know?”
The man looked confused. Obviously he didn’t recognize Jaymin or understand why a mere boy was acting as though he was in charge, but he nodded. “Messengers are taking the word to all our camps. They’ll be heading for Camp Four as soon as they can get horses saddled.”
Jaymin turned back to the assembled soldiers, who still stood in their orderly rows, startled at the sudden turn of events, but grim and ready. He jumped back onto the platform. So much for the speech he had planned.
“It’s time to fight for Alasia!” he shouted. “Who’s with me?”
An answering shout rose from every throat. As one, the soldiers drew their swords, and the clearing resounded with the ringing of steel as they raised them high. Every face was eager. Every man was ready.
“Then get to your horses,” Jaymin yelled, “and let’s go!”
“You heard the prince,” roared the general, already astride his own steed. “Do it!”
They did.
Chapter 17
The freezing wind stung Jaymin’s face, whipping his cloak out behind him; and claw-like branches overhanging the path did their best to unseat him as he careered madly past. General Dirken galloped just ahead of him, and behind rode Erik, with three dozen mounted soldiers following single-file down the narrow path between Camps Three and Four. Jaymin’s heart pounded in time to the thudding of his horse’s hooves, and his borrowed sword slapped furiously against his left leg with every stride.
They were going into battle! He might get to fight for his kingdom after all!
They were going into battle. People were probably going to die.
Jaymin wasn’t exactly afraid for himself – well, all right, he was a little nervous – but he felt a heavy sense of responsibility that was its own kind of fear. This whole situation was happening because he was here. The soldiers were unquestioningly following him. If anyone died it would be because of him. Because he hadn’t listened to Erik.
This must be a little like how General Dirken feels when he orders troops into battle, Jaymin thought, willing his pulse to slow down. Lives are lost or saved depending on what he decides to do. But that was different, Jaymin knew. General Dirken hadn’t made the mistake of not listening to a friend’s sound advice. There would probably be lives lost today because of something Jaymin could have prevented. But it’s no good worrying about it now, he reminded himself firmly. Regret won’t change the situation. Rampus’ soldiers are coming, and if they won’t listen to Korram, we’ll just have to defend ourselves. That’s all I should be focusing on now.
And then there were no more trees, and before Jaymin realized where they were, he and the soldiers had burst out into the open. They reined in their horses sharply and looked around.
The large clearing before them was bare, the tents having been taken down that morning, with only the cold ashes of cooking fires to show that people had been living in Camp Four just a few hours ago. On the far side of the clearing, another path led into the forest, but it was clogged with Korram’s horsemen. They held their spears at the ready, obviously impatient to be off, but the pathway was crowded and the crowd wasn’t moving.
The thirty-six Alasian soldiers pulled up behind and around Jaymin, horses puffing and snorting in the cold air, as General Dirken hurried over to question the nearest of Korram’s men.
Erik nudged his mount forward and drew up beside Jaymin. “Are you nervous?”
Jaymin glanced at his friend. “Why should I be nervous?”
Erik kept his voice low so the soldiers around them wouldn’t overhear. “Because it’s our first real battle. And because you think you’re responsible for all this and you’re not sure if you made all the right decisions
. Am I right?”
Jaymin chuckled briefly, his eyes on the general, who was still speaking earnestly to a Malornian horseman. “Aren’t you always?”
Erik grinned. “Of course. Anyway, don’t waste your energy worrying. It’s not your fault things didn’t go as planned.”
“But, Erik –” Jaymin swallowed, knowing what he needed to say. “You were right all along about the danger. I didn’t listen to you, and I should have. I’m sorry.”
Erik waved a hand dismissively, but Jaymin knew he had accepted the apology. “I told you, stop worrying. There would have been a battle somewhere in the next day or so, one way or another. And everything will turn out all right in the end. You’ll see.”
“That isn’t always true, you know.”
“But you said I’m always right, didn’t you?”
Their nervous banter was interrupted by General Dirken’s return. With a glance at Jaymin for permission, he raised his voice and addressed their little company.
“Apparently Prince Korram is talking to Regent Rampus even as we speak. The prince may be able to force the regent’s men to surrender, but if not, it will be up to us – along with whichever of Prince Korram’s horsemen prove loyal to him – to hold back the enemy until the rest of our soldiers arrive from Camps One and Two. Since you are familiar with these woods, I want all of you to make your way through the trees parallel to the trail. Get to where you can see the regent and his men, but don’t attack unless they do, and mind you don’t confuse his soldiers with the prince’s. Go!”
Jaymin watched a little wistfully as the green-uniformed soldiers sped off into the forest, dodging trees, making their own paths as they crashed through the thick underbrush. It bothered him to have others sent into danger while he waited safely here in the clearing, but he knew that if and when the fighting started, the clearing wouldn’t remain safe for long.
The general half-turned toward him, still keeping one eye on the soldiers vanishing into the trees. “Your Highness, I wish I could convince you to wait this out somewhere else. Doubtless the regent’s troops are attacking specifically because he heard you were here. If anything happens to you ….” He let his sentence trail off.
Jaymin shook his head. “I appreciate your concern, General, and I understand your point. But surely you see why I can’t leave now. Prince Korram is riding at the head of his troops, and when the fighting starts he’ll be in the thick of it. How would it look if I just run off and hide where it’s safe?”
“Then at least let me persuade you to wait a little further back, your Highness,” Dirken suggested, almost pleading. “Among the trees.”
“Yes,” declared Erik firmly, and cast Jaymin a look that brooked no argument.
Reluctantly, Jaymin guided his horse a few yards into the forest, but close enough that he could still see into the clearing between tree trunks. As the other two followed him in, a thought suddenly occurred to him.
“General, shouldn’t you be out there directing the troops? I mean, at least after the fighting starts, they’ll need someone giving orders. You don’t have to wait here with me.”
“I will not leave you unprotected, your Highness.”
“But General, they need your leadership. What would be the point in keeping me safe if we lose the battle?”
“It would be better than winning the battle but losing you, your Highness.”
Jaymin wasn’t so sure about that, and he might have protested further had Erik not prodded him from behind with the rim of his shield. When Jaymin turned around, startled, his friend whispered, “Stop arguing! He’s right.”
As a compromise, Dirken added, “If I have the chance to assign one of my officers to guard you instead, your Highness, I will.”
At that moment, through the trees, they all heard the distant blare of a Malornian trumpet sounding the attack. At almost the same instant, there were shouts and the ringing and clashing of swords; and Korram’s men who were still in the clearing began shouting excitedly as well. Horses snorted and plunged as their riders spurred them into the trees, giving up on the crowded path as the Alasians had done a few moments earlier and making their own way toward the sounds of battle.
Jaymin’s heart began drumming a little faster. He tightened the shield straps on his left arm and drew his sword, just in case. On either side, he could see the general and Erik doing likewise.
In a moment the clearing was empty, though they could still see movement through the trees on the other side. It was agonizing to be waiting there doing nothing when people were obviously fighting furiously so close by. Their horses, sensing the nearby action, pricked up their ears and shifted restlessly, champing at their bits. Jaymin wondered distractedly when the rest of the Alasian troops would arrive from Camps One and Two. He knew it would take time for them to get their weapons and saddle up their horses. In the meantime, what exactly was happening among the trees? Had anyone been killed yet? And what about Korram’s horsemen? Were they all remaining loyal to him, fighting their fellow Malornians, or had some of them turned on their prince? Had any of Rampus’ soldiers been willing to surrender to Korram, or were they all truly on the regent’s side? Questions whirled through Jaymin’s mind as he stared at the trail leading into the forest beyond the clearing, trying to peer through the trees to see something, anything, of what was going on.
At that moment, a cream-colored horse appeared, crashing out from among the trees and bushes at a canter, its saddle empty, stirrups swinging wildly. Its mane and withers glistened with dark blood, but the horse did not appear injured. Jaymin swallowed and exchanged a grim glance with Erik. Somebody was either dead or seriously wounded. He hoped not an Alasian, but at this distance he couldn’t identify the saddle style well enough to be sure.
At that moment, several things happened at once. There was a volley of shouts from across the clearing, and what looked like at least a hundred soldiers in wine-red and black burst from the forest heading straight toward them, and Jaymin clutched his sword tighter, and Erik was moving his horse in front of him, and the general was shouting at them to get further back into the trees, and Jaymin’s blood pounded in his ears – or was that the pounding of hooves as the Malornians galloped toward them across the clearing? – and he called to Erik to get back, and tried to turn his own horse around, but the general had grabbed his bridle from the other direction and was trying to pull him back the opposite way, and the Malornians were still coming, closer and closer and closer, and he could see the sunlight glinting off their helmets and drawn swords, and then all of a sudden there was a pounding and crashing from behind and to the left, and soldiers in green were streaming into the clearing toward the approaching Malornians, and the general was moving forward and shouting orders at them, and there was a horrible clashing of swords and yelling and heavy thudding as horses collided and riders were thrown to the ground, and Jaymin realized that he had been holding his breath and his hands were shaking.
Erik, still with his horse positioned between Jaymin and the enemy, cast a quick glance over his shoulder and grinned a shaky grin. Jaymin noticed that his friend looked just a shade paler than normal, but there was an excited light in his eyes, and his jaw was set firmly.
“You look like you’re about to be a hero,” Jaymin tried to joke, forcing his voice to keep steady and his tone light, even as he anxiously watched the green furiously struggling with the red and black just a few dozen yards beyond Erik.
“Oh, of course!” exclaimed Erik, also keeping one eye on the battle. “Erik the Great fights valiantly, nobly sacrificing his life to defend the future King Jaymin the Fourth! Just watch and see!” He sounded a little giddy.
“Not that kind of hero,” Jaymin snapped, more sharply than he had meant to. “I don’t want a dead hero for a friend, understand? That’s an order!”
Erik merely grinned and turned to face the battle once more.
General Dirken, meanwhile, had ridden into the clearing and caught the attention of one of his
men. In a moment he returned with a young captain – perhaps recently promoted, Jaymin thought, after the Invasion had left holes in their ranks.
“Here, Captain Norrin,” Dirken was barking. “Your task now is to protect the prince. Guard him with your life, and I do mean that literally.” Then Dirken spurred his horse and streaked back toward the battle.
“Protect the who?” The young man turned and stared at the boys, his gaze coming to rest on Jaymin. “The … oh my goodness, it’s true! You’re really Prince Jaymin, aren’t you? We heard you were dead!”
Jaymin smiled apologetically. “Not yet, anyway, though I suppose that could change today. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Captain Norrin. I’m sorry you have to sit out the battle on my account.” He turned his gaze back to the fighting, too distracted to make small talk now.
Jaymin knew a lot about battles, of course; his studies of history had been thorough, and he could explain almost anything anyone might want to know about any major conflict in Alasia’s history. But somehow none of his studies had quite prepared him for this … this chaos. He couldn’t even tell which side was winning. The clearing was filled with a confused tumult of clashing weapons, cries of pain and of triumph, the skip and thud of hooves on the hard-packed ground, the neighing of horses, and the occasional muffled note of a trumpet signaling some new sally from away among the trees.
The combatants were drifting nearer, and Jaymin was starting to feel more and more strongly that he should not be waiting here doing nothing. He should take his place in the battle and fight for his kingdom, as so many of his people were doing already.
Even as he thought about it, another wave of Malornians broke out of the trees and fairly flew into the foray. The Alasians were outnumbered now, though he couldn’t tell how badly, and he felt he just had to do something about it. He wasn’t going to sit comfortably off to the side and watch his people being beaten before his eyes.
Jaymin drew a deep breath. He had made his decision. “I’m going in,” he shouted to the captain and Erik above the din. “Come on!” Knowing they would both try to talk him out of it, he didn’t wait for a response, but spurred his horse through the trees and charged forward. They both sped after him. Erik, bent low over his mount’s neck, passed him up as they entered the clearing and then maneuvered to stay just ahead.
Prince of Alasia (Annals of Alasia Book 1) Page 21