Two Heirs (The Marmoros Trilogy Book 1)

by Peter Kenson

  “Later,” he laughed, freeing his arms and standing up. “You can show me later. For now I have to go and see Smitty. And have another little talk with Marta, I think.”

  Chapter 12

  White voices again. That's silly, he thought to himself. Voices can't be white. But if I can hear the voices, why can't I see anything but white? Am I going mad? Or have I already got there?

  "When it starts to breakthrough, how quickly will it all come apart?"

  "We don't know. We haven't done enough trials to assess that."

  "Well what happened in the trials you did do?"

  "In some cases it was just a single thought, a single memory and nothing else for days or even weeks. In other cases, that single memory triggered a kind of cascade of other memories and the whole thing came apart inside a day."

  "And you can't predict or control which way it will go?"

  "No, we just don't have enough experience yet."

  "What will happen to him, if and when it does all come apart?"

  "He will still have all the new stuff we've implanted but he'll have everything else as well. He'll know who he is and why he's there. How he'll react to that will depend on his training and experience, I suppose. And on how good a cover he's managed to establish for himself.”

  The next day started well. Despite the dreams he managed to not disturb Leyla and Mo and, as he went through his morning exercise routine, a part of his consciousness recorded the fact that the herds were already on the move. Children of all ages were running alongside the herds to keep them moving and keep them together. The first wagons were on the move as well, leaving their plots and heading in the same direction as the herds.

  The officers were waiting for him in a group when he finished his exercises. Ash he assigned to the van of the column with instructions to direct them according to the reports coming back from the forward scouts. Jorgen he despatched with the prisoners as arranged the previous day. Feynor and Bern had returned from their scouting trip and reported a couple of promising ambush sites which they wanted to show him.

  "We’ll deal with the new recruits first," he told them.

  The new recruits he had been promised, had turned up at dawn. There were fourteen hunters who came carrying their own bows; a few long bows with their greater range but mostly short hunting bows. David assigned them all to Bern to assess and train.

  Three old veterans had also arrived, bringing with them an impressive array of swords, shields, spears and one lethal looking halberd. The three men were all slightly past their prime but looked as though they could still handle themselves. Their weapons had obviously all been well cared for with a new edge recently added and their armour and shields gleamed with the signs of an all-night polishing. As David approached, they stood to attention and saluted as one, arms crashing across their chests.

  David returned the salute and spoke to the one in front. "What's your name, soldier?"

  "It's Jacob Golder, milord."

  "Golder. Any relation to Aron Golder?"

  "He's my nephew, milord."

  "I see. How is he now? Or more to the point, how are Miriam and the boys?"

  "They're all fine, milord. And very grateful for what you did. The whole family thanks you."

  "I wasn’t looking for thanks, Jacob. I was just concerned because the effects of an attack like that can sometimes last a long time."

  "Hm, well the boys are fine, milord. They're young and not showing any ill effects at all. I'm not sure the youngest two truly understood what was going on with their mother. Miriam... is fine when she's busy or dealing with the boys. But Aron says she sometimes wakes in a sweat in the middle of the night. He loves her very much and she's a strong woman. The family will be fine thanks to you."

  "Good. Now let's talk about you. Who are your two friends here?"

  Jacob introduced Reuben and Marvin.

  "I hope you didn't spend all night polishing that armour," David joked. "I need you fresh today, not sleeping off an all-night cleaning stint."

  "Don't worry about that, milord," they laughed. "We've all got grandsons and nephews."

  "Which one of you owns that vicious looking halberd?"

  "That's mine, milord," Marvin replied. "Trained with that for twenty years in Duke Charles' army."

  "Duke Charles. That's Westron isn't it?"

  "That's right, milord. Weren't Duke Charles at first of course; it were his father. But Duke Charles is in charge there now."

  "It's a handy weapon. I wish I had more of them and men trained to use them."

  "We might be able to help you there, milord."

  David pricked up his ears at that. "How so?"

  "Well Reuben and I have been doing a bit of smithying since we retired like. Always something to do in a village this size. Mostly farm implements and shoeing, that sort of thing, but we can turn out a blade if we have to. Haven't tried a halberd but we can give it a go if you like."

  David thought about it for a minute. "Okay Marvin, I'm thinking ahead here. A large body of horse is a threat to the company and to the village. But a mixed squad of trained halberdsmen and pikemen could wreak havoc in a troop of horse, particularly if they’re not expecting it. Now I know we'll have to fight some horse in the next few days but that's too soon. We won't have the weapons or the men for that particular fight. But by the time we get to Marmoros..."

  “…We can have a bunch of weapons ready and I can train the men in their use,” Marvin finished.

  “Your forge is packed up ready to go?”

  “Yes, milord. But we can set it up quickly every evening when we stop for the night. We’ve got plenty of charcoal but not a huge amount of raw iron. We may need to requisition some old farm tools.”

  “I’ll speak to Lady Falaise about it. Jorgen is the officer in charge of the spears but I’m not sure what he knows about halberds. Once you have the first weapons available, I’ll get him to allocate some men for you to train. Jacob, I’d like you to work with Feynor here to train the swordsmen. Is that okay?”

  All three veterans snapped to attention again and saluted. “Yes, milord.”

  David smiled as he returned the salute and then turned his attention to the final group of volunteers. There were about twenty youths waiting patiently in a group headed by Jeren and Baltur. David estimated their ages as ranging from about eighteen or nineteen down to ten or eleven.

  “So Lord Jeren, does Lady Falaise know you’re here?”

  “She does, my lord.”

  “And is she happy with that?”

  “She is not, my lord.”

  “And does that mean I am going to have a problem with your lady mother?”

  “She will worry, as will the mothers of every one of us. But Baltur and I have fought alongside you once already and you were the one who gave us our swords. It makes sense then for us to know how to use them properly, even if only to defend ourselves. Besides, everyone here is my friend,” he went on, indicating the group of youths behind him. “How would it be if I let them step forward to fight for my people but stayed behind myself, cowering behind my mother’s skirts?”

  “Very well. And does that go for the rest of you as well? I cannot take anyone to train, who does not have their parent’s permission to be here.”

  There was much nodding of heads and murmurs of “yes, milord.”

  “Okay, I’m going to take you all at your word on this. Now form a line; shortest on the left, tallest on the right.”

  When the line was formed, David went to the youngster on the very left. “What’s your name, son?”

  “It’s Ishmael, milord, but everybody calls me Izzy.”

  “And how old are you, Izzy?”

  “I’m eleven, milord. Well, very nearly.”

  “Your parents know you’re here?”

  “Yes, milord. They do.”

  “Alright. Now tell me, Izzy. Why are you here instead of looking after the her
ds with the other children of your age?”

  “’Cos I want to be a fighter, milord. Like my grandfather was.”

  David nodded and walked slowly down the line, seeing the same look of determination on every face as he passed.

  “Okay, now I want everyone to the left of Baltur to move to the left and form two rows, tallest at the back. Baltur, your group in two rows as well, tallest at the back.”

  David did a quick headcount. There were nine in the group of smaller boys and twelve in Baltur’s group. He spoke to the younger boys first. “Right, now you have all volunteered to be here and I’m not going to send anybody away who wants to stay but you are not old enough and, more importantly, not big enough to fight alongside the men. I can’t have experienced fighters worrying about who’s underfoot or losing concentration by trying to protect you.

  “However, in any military command there are a thousand other things that need to be done. Commands and messages need to be run between different groups and delivering those messages quickly and accurately is absolutely vital in any successful battle. You will be trained in the use of weapons and you will be given a dagger to defend yourselves but I need you to be my runners until you are old enough to join the fighters. If any of you do not want to take on that role, I will quite understand and there will be no shame in going back to your families.”

  There were a few disappointed looks on the faces of some of the boys but nobody moved.

  David went over to the group of older boys. “Lord Jeren, Baltur step forward please. You two will report to Captain Feynor and train with him and with Jacob here in the use of the sword. The rest of you will report to Captain Jorgen when he returns. Over the next few weeks and months you will be trained in the use of all the weapons we have here but we are going to start you off with the spear. It’s a very easy weapon to learn. There’s only one thing you have to remember about a spear. You use the pointy end.”

  There was general laughter from the group at that and David dismissed them to the care of his officers.

  ***

  The rest of the day passed without any major problems. David inspected the possible ambush sites that Feynor and Bern had found but rejected them both. If the enemy scouts detected that the village had moved then the approaching troop could bypass the ambush and leave the company trying to play catch up with the enemy. So he gave orders for the camp to move and travel at the rear of the column. There was a risk involved in allowing the horsemen to get closer to the Lyenar column but it was outweighed by the risk of leaving the column undefended and being outflanked by the enemy.

  There were the usual mishaps and injuries throughout the day with sprains, bruises and even one broken arm amongst the villagers but all the wagons were underway by midday. One wagon suffered a broken axle almost as soon as it started to move, which took several hours to repair and put that family at the very end of the column, travelling along with the company.

  In the van of the column, Ash found a suitable spot by mid-afternoon and called a halt for the early starters allowing the main body of the column to catch up. They had already decided that, rather than making a proper camp every night, they would stop the wagons nose to tail along the trail so that everyone could set out together at first light the next day. It made for a defensive nightmare with a camp twenty paces wide and over four thousand paces long so David had mobile patrols on the move all night along both sides of the column.

  Jorgen’s group caught up with them shortly after nightfall which brought the company up to full strength again. Gaelan and the others had been furious, uttering vicious threats and curses for the first hour of their journey until Jorgen had finally lost patience and threatened to gag them. He released them shortly before midday and turned back, leaving them a hunting bow and some arrows together with a skinning knife some ten minutes down the trail.

  The council had decided, with only token opposition from Bardsley, that all of Gaelan’s possessions should be sold and the proceeds placed in the village coffers for the benefit of all. However, until they had time to sort that out, Gaelan’s two wagons had been packed with all his belongings and Falaise had hired a couple of reliable drivers to bring them along.

  Falaise called the council together that evening for an update but none of the scouts had reported back yet. Within the column there were a number of minor complaints, mostly about how one family was in another’s dust and how they should really be in front of them. Falaise dismissed all such complaints with the comment that, if they had been ready to move at first light, they could have been the leading wagon in the column. The only disappointment from David’s point of view, was that, because of the shortened day, the column had only travelled about five leagues.

  The second day was better. As he hoped, all of the wagons were able to set off more or less together. Although there was no defined trail they were following, the land was reasonably flat and he was hopeful of making a much greater distance that day. They travelled without breaks; people eating and drinking on the move and disappearing off to the side of the trail to relieve themselves.

  The first of the forward scouts came back that afternoon. David sent Jaks to round up the other officers and meet him in the van. By the time he got there, Ash had the map spread out over the ground at the side of the trail and was poring over it with Jerome.

  “More good news than bad, milord,” he reported. “There’s a large area of marshy ground directly ahead. Horses might possibly pick a way through it; wagons definitely not. We will have to make a detour to the south to get round it.”

  “Well I hope that’s not the good news. Why can’t we go round to the north, towards Highport?”

  “Very broken ground, milord,” Jerome answered. “Lots of up and down and very rocky hillsides. Wagons would be very slow and, even if they could make it, there’s a much higher risk of broken wheels and axles. South is much flatter, much like the land here but it is a detour away from Highport.”

  “Okay, so what’s the good news?”

  “The marsh drains to the southwest. There’s a river, not much more than a large stream really, that runs for about four maybe five hundred paces then cuts through a narrow gorge and falls down the face of the escarpment. The good news is there’s a cart track that crosses the river, climbs a little to the ridge of the escarpment on the far side and then drops down to the highroad. It’s a very old cart track; not very well used and probably originally only a drovers trail but it fords the river at its widest and therefore shallowest point and it should be passable with care.

  “The only problem is the drop down on the far side of the escarpment. It’s very steep and we’ll need runners alongside each wagon with wedges, ropes and pulleys to slow the wagons down or even stop them if necessary.”

  “This sounds good to me,” David said. “The villagers have got enough manpower to cope with that descent, even if it’s only one wagon at a time. I think we’ve got a route.”

  “There is one more factor to consider, milord,” Ash put in. “One of the old shepherds came to me this morning and said we’re going to have rain. Not today and maybe not tomorrow but certainly by tomorrow night. Not a storm as such but he says the rainfall will be heavy. That means the marsh will fill up and the river will start running higher. We need to get across that river before the rain comes.”

  “If we can get across that river before the rain comes and before the pursuit catches up with us, then we have a line of defence behind us and we’ve bought ourselves some time to deal with that tricky descent. How far is it to the river crossing?”

  “About eleven, maybe twelve leagues, milord”

  “Ouch, there’s no way we can do that in a day. We’ll have to keep going until we lose the last bit of light tonight. I’ll go and warn the council so that they can hold down the protests but keep them going for as long as it’s safe tonight, Ash. I take it we’ve heard nothing from the scouts behind us yet?”

  “Not yet, m
ilord. Those horsemen will be four days out of Stadenbridge now. They should be approaching the place where we rescued the children. That still puts them two days behind us. I wouldn’t expect the scouts to report in before late tomorrow.”

  ***

  The weather was unkind and the rain came early. The first spots started falling mid-afternoon on the third day. The herds which were in the van were in sight of the ford but were still short by almost half a league. Within ten minutes the rain intensified and the animals were getting difficult. They wanted to stop and the children, who were quickly soaked to the skin themselves, were having more and more trouble in keeping the herds moving.

  The youngsters who had volunteered as runners two days earlier had been divided up and each officer had been allocated two runners. Ash sent one of his runners back to request more manpower and then rode around the herds encouraging the children to keep them moving.

  “Get them across the river and then off to one side,” he instructed. “Then they can rest and take shelter while we keep the wagons moving up the track.”

  The rain swept in on the back of a stiff southerly breeze. Up and down the column, cloaks were hastily handed out and riders and drivers alike huddled up and cursed the weather gods. Everyone who was not otherwise occupied scrambled into the back of their wagons to take shelter.

  David arrived at the ford with the reinforcements to find the animals milling about on the bank of the stream, unwilling to enter the water. The ford was about twenty paces across and the water, which had not yet begun to rise, was no more than half a hand’s breadth deep. He ordered six riders into the stream on either side of the ford to form two walls between which they could channel the nervous animals.

  It was the mixed herd of goats and sheep that was nearest to the crossing point and David spoke to the old shepherd in charge to identify the leader, the one that all the other animals instinctively follow. He dismounted with three of the men and between them they cornered the old ram. Then, with the old shepherd in the lead, they half carried the animal down to the water’s edge and into the stream. By the time they were three quarters of the way across, they gave the old ram its head and it made for the far bank. David looked round and was relieved to see the first of the herd starting to cross.