by Peter Kenson
When the remaining men reached the bank, David gave the order to cease fire and pulled everybody back behind the screens.
“Casualties?”
“We’ve got two dead,” Bern replied. “Both villagers, and three wounded that’ll have to go back to Marta. For the rest, we’ve got some cuts and bruises but they can all fight.”
“Damn. Their casualties? I can see at least ten.”
“I count ten as well. They’ve got that one man limping away and some others who’ve taken damage but I can’t say how many or how bad their injuries are. Oh, and we’ve taken one prisoner. Wounded but still alive.”
“Okay, good job, Bern. Send the prisoner back to Marta as well. She’ll know what to do with him.”
David turned to the two boys. “How about you two? You both okay?”
“We’re fine,” Jeren replied. “Not a scratch. And I got that horseman.”
“Yes you did,” David agreed. “Were you scared?”
The two boys looked at each other. “A little,” Jeren admitted. “Before it started but, once we were fighting, I didn’t have time to be scared.”
“Me too,” Baltur added.
“You did well. Both of you. Now let’s go and get our horses and see what they’re going to do next. I doubt that they’re going to try this crossing again.”
They were walking back up the slope when Jeren spoke again.
“Uh, Lord Held.”
“Yes, Jeren. What is it?”
“The two men who were killed. I knew them both. Do you think I should go and talk to their families?”
David stopped and looked at the young lord who was trying so hard to grow into the leader of his people. “Yes, Jeren, I think you should. Remember what I said to you earlier about casualties. A good commander has to be able to order his men into danger but he also has to take responsibility for the casualties that ensue. So yes, the families would appreciate knowing that their sons died bravely and they would appreciate it even more, that their prince would take the time to come and tell them personally.”
“Prince! No, do not address me as that, Lord Held. My father never accepted the title of king-in-exile and I have no desire to be known as the prince-in-exile. When we have retaken Marmoros, then you can address me as ‘Prince’.”
David smiled. “When we retake Marmoros, Lord Jeren, I shall be honoured to call you ‘Prince’. But my point remains. You are the leader of these people, whatever title you choose to take. They are now your responsibility. But as these men died fighting under my command, I also have some responsibility. I am more than willing to accompany you when you visit the families, if you would like.”
Jeren considered this as they resumed their walk up the slope. “No, Lord Held. Thank you for the offer but I think this is something I shall have to do myself. Many of the people do not really trust you yet. I think it would be better coming from me.”
They reached the horses and looked back across the river to where the enemy officer was trying to reorganise his now, considerably smaller force. They had lost more men than horses in the attack but several of the horses were running free and were having to be rounded up. David could see four men sitting on the ground having various injuries attended to, including one with his boot off, having his foot bandaged.
David spoke to Jorgen. “The patrols are out?”
Jorgen nodded. “We think there are two possibilities where they could try to cross but we don’t know which one they’ll go for. I have left a small patrol at each and the rest of the men are here with me. Unfortunately there is no cover for a man on horseback on this side of the river so the patrols are in plain view but that cannot be helped.”
“It doesn’t matter. He knows he’s not going to get across unopposed. We just have to wait and see which way he’s going to jump. Where’s the trumpet?”
“I have it here, milord,” Jaks said from the back of the group.
“Jaks. Can you actually blow that thing and get sound out of it?”
“I can, milord,” he replied in an offended tone as the men around him gave a little chuckle.
“All right, Jaks. You stay close to me now. It looks as if they’re about to move.”
The group on the far bank was indeed gathering itself together. Several of the horses were limping either from the caltrops or from arrow wounds. These were left loosely tethered together but there were still enough uninjured horses for the remaining men to mount up.
A couple of hundred paces from the ford, the river swung sharply to the left. The main flow of the river stayed close to the far bank but there was a shallow bulge into the near bank. The men with David and Jorgen, mounted up and tracked the enemy as they moved along the far bank.
“That’s where I’d go,” David said pointing out the bend.
The unit that Jorgen had positioned above the bulge sat watching the approaching horsemen and checking their weapons for the final time. The archers dismounted and tethered their horses and the others moved slightly to one side so that they could charge without being directly in the archers’ line of fire.
“Shall we get down there to reinforce that unit?” Jorgen asked.
“No. We’ll wait until they actually begin to cross before we move. I want them all in the river this time. Once they’re committed to the river, they have no way back. They’ll never be able to climb that far bank again.”
The enemy commander stopped and looked carefully up and down the river. There was the one group of three archers and four mounted spearmen directly opposite him. There was a similar sized group much further down the river towards the escarpment, guarding the other potential crossing point and David’s group further up the hillside opposite him. He reached a decision and his two remaining archers dismounted to give covering fire. The remaining men started towards the river, trotting quickly at first and then breaking into a gallop for the final few paces before they launched themselves into the water. The majority of the horsemen cleared the main flow of the river and were into the shallow water immediately as Jorgen’s small unit of spearmen began their own charge.
“Go now,” David ordered and Jorgen led the remaining group into a flat out charge down the hillside. A horse went down with a crack of breaking bone although it was impossible to tell whether it was the horse or the rider who suffered the most. Jeren and Baltur sat uncomfortably alongside David as they watched the action develop below them.
“Shouldn’t we go down there and help them?” Jeren asked.
“There’s a time to lead the fighting and a time to direct the battle,” David replied. “A good commander has to do both. Jaks, sound that trumpet and make it good and loud.”
The sound of the horn rolled out across the river. Jaks was obviously putting some considerable effort into it and the sound carried above the noise of the battle below. Jeren looked around puzzled as, for a long while, nothing appeared to change.
“Look at the tree line,” David said pointing towards the edge of the escarpment. From the trees on the far side of the river, a line of twenty horsemen had appeared and were rushing towards the river.
“It’s Feynor,” Jeren exclaimed. “I mean Captain Feynor. That’s where he’s been all morning.”
Feynor’s men fanned out into a semicircle around the fighting. The two archers who had been left on the far bank surrendered immediately and the fighting in the water gradually eased off as the newcomers pushed into the river and started to close in from both sides. David and the boys rode down the hill at a gentle trot but, by the time they arrived, it was only the captain and one of his men who had reached the near bank, who were still fighting.
“Pull back,” David ordered as he drew the katana and forced his way into the press of men surrounding the captain. “Pull back,” he ordered again as he blocked the next blow from the captain’s sword. The enemy commander looked at him in surprise as David’s men gradually eased back and then glanced quickly around to find hi
s own men, whether on foot or on horseback, with their hands in the air. With an expression of disgust on his face, he threw his sword to the ground and sat there with his hands resting on the pommel of his saddle.
“Captain, you and your men are now my prisoners,” David said. “Please order your men to dismount and surrender their remaining weapons.”
The captain looked at him coldly for a minute and then barked an order before dismounting stiffly from his own horse.
“Thank you, captain,” David said, dismounting himself. “And now I’ll trouble you for the amulet you have round your neck.”
The man glared at him furiously. “That I cannot give you. And I must warn you not to touch it.”
“Oh no, I’m not going through all that again. And if your little friend back in Paelis is listening in, I’m not in the mood to play silly games this morning.”
David reached forward and yanked hard on the amulet, breaking the cord around the captain’s neck. Duke Henry’s chancellor was obviously occupied elsewhere as there was no reaction through the amulet this time.
“There. That’s better,” David said, dropping the amulet into a belt pouch.
“Jorgen, take charge of the prisoners and take them to the camp. Make sure their wounded are treated and hold the captain here separately until I have a chance to talk to them.”
“I protest,” the captain said quickly. “I demand to stay with my men.”
“You can protest all you like, captain, but it’s my orders that will be obeyed here. Your men will be looked after but you will be held apart.
“Jaks, find Kemon for me and then help Feynor round up the stray horses. Any that are too badly injured to be saved, take up to the camp and have them butchered. We need the meat.
“Jeren, you and Baltur go and see to your people now. Thank the ones who survived and see to their injuries. Then go and find those two families; they could be anywhere in the column by now. Spend as much time as necessary with them. You are excused all other duties today.”
Feynor broke off from dealing with the wounded and came trotting over with Kemon in tow. “We lost one of Jorgen’s men in the fight. Pity that. He was a good man. And there’s a body up there on the hillside that’s not moving.”
“His horse went down in the charge,” David replied looking round. The horse was struggling to get up but the rider was motionless. “Jaks, go check on that one and let us know how he is.”
He looked around at the aftermath of the fight. Wounded from both sides were sat on the bank, either being treated or waiting their turn. A group of prisoners who could still walk, were being prodded up the hillside by some of Jorgen’s spears. And horsemen on both banks of the river were rounding up the stray horses.
“It could have been worse,” he remarked quietly to Feynor. “It could have been a lot worse. Get the wounded up to Marta and get them ready to travel. Then round up all the men who are fit and not required for guard duties, and take them down to help on the ropes. Getting all the wagons safely down onto the road is now our priority.”
“What about the prisoners?”
“I’ll talk to them. Any that won’t join us will be released on the opposite bank of the river but without their boots. And we’re not releasing anyone until all the wagons are down. If the prisoners are fit to work, put them to work.”
“And the wounded prisoners?”
“If they won’t join us and they’re too badly injured to be left here, then we’ll take them into Highport and leave them there.
“Which brings me on to you, Kemon. I have need of your unique talents again.”
Kemon grinned happily. “You want me to go into Highport then, milord.”
“You know very well I do, you old rogue,” David smiled back. “It’ll take us until well into tomorrow morning to get everybody down to the road. So tomorrow will be a short day for travelling and we won’t reach the city until sometime the following day. I need to know if the gates will be open to us or not. I suspect they will be closed so that is where you really start to earn your money.
“I need everything you can tell me about this Lord Maxten. High Warden I think his title is. And then I need to know about the political power structure within the city. Is there anybody we can influence? Bribe, threaten, blackmail, I don’t care what we have to do. I just have to get all these people through to the other side of the city in the shortest possible time.”
“I understand, milord.”
“Talk to Lady Falaise on your way through the column. She’s down at the first bend helping to supervise the descent. Find out if she’s got any contacts in the city that might be helpful or at least, sympathetic.
“Okay, so that brings me on to the next part of your mission. If we can’t persuade them to open the gates then we’ll have to open them ourselves. We obviously don’t have any siege equipment or the time to use it if we did. Beside which I don’t want to damage the gates as we may need to shut them if the face of Duke Henry’s men. So, how many men does Lord Maxten have at his command? I also need to know where they are normally deployed. By the time we get there, the majority of them will be on this nearside gate facing us but where will he take them from? Is there somewhere that will be relatively undefended where a group of men could force their way in and attack the gates from behind?”
“Hm. Lot of specifics you want there, milord. I won’t get there until late afternoon today but I should make it before they shut the gates. If I slip out again, just before they shut the gates tomorrow night, I can brief you overnight.”
“That will be fine. Stop by the camp on your way now and have a word with Mo. I left a purse of coin for her to give you in case of need. Good luck, Kemon.”
“Luck, milord? Never trusted the lady. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
Chapter 16
The descent to the high road had been long and arduous. Some of the larger wagons were so heavy that they had to double the teams on the ropes to keep the descent at a walking pace. Many of the men had to have blistered palms treated and bandaged before they could take another turn on the ropes or were assigned to the teams walking alongside the wagons with wedges to jam under the wheels. Temporary kitchens were set up at the top and the bottom of the descent to feed the teams of workers while others snatched a few moments of sleep on the leafy moss to either side of the trail.
They still had Duke Henry’s coach that Evan, the tax collector, had used and David had that pulled out of the line and brought down to the road early. He went to find Falaise and asked her to find him some artists who could repaint the coach, gilding it to the maximum possible extent and replacing Duke Henry’s coat of arms with the Lyenar arms. Her surprise at this first request increased substantially when he then asked her to find, or ask some of the ladies to make, a set of ten matching riding cloaks.
“Whatever are you planning, David?”
He smiled at her. “That coach is going to be the official state coach of the Lyenar people and you and Jeren, as rulers of the Lyenar, are going to make a state visit to the ruler of Highport accompanied by a full guard of honour.”
“Do you think that will work? Will he let us in?”
“He might let you in but I’m not sure about the honour guard. But it might throw him sufficiently off-balance to make a mistake. By the way, I also want uniforms for a herald, which will be me, and an equerry, which will be Baltur.”
“Will there be anything else?” she asked with a tinge of asperity.
“Well I’m assuming that you can dress yourself and Jeren appropriately for the occasion so, apart from that, no.”
He ducked under the resulting slap with a chuckle. “Sorry Falaise. But until Kemon gets back, I don’t know exactly what we’re up against so I’m just preparing some contingencies.”
While Falaise busied herself with those requests, the work continued on lowering the wagons down the slope. As darkness fell, torches were lit every ten paces down the t
rail and teams of children were organised to keep a check on the torches and replace them as soon as they went out.
Under the circumstances, it was remarkable that they only lost one wagon during the night and that was one of the smaller ones. It was only a one horse wagon and was on the second half of the descent when the driver’s brake lever snapped. Taken by surprise, the rope slipped through sweaty hands and the walking team did not react fast enough with the wedges. The wagon rapidly gathered pace, pushing the now panicky horse in front of it and, despite the heroic efforts of the driver to make the corner, the turn was too sharp. It ran wide to the edge of the trail and one of the front wheels shattered on a rock whereupon the whole rig went over sideways and cartwheeled twenty paces down the slope before coming to rest against a tree. The wagon was a write-off and the horse had to be destroyed but miraculously the driver escaped with nothing more than a nasty cut on his forehead.
The incident cost them some time however, to clear away the debris and rescue what they could of the family’s belongings to redistribute amongst friends and family. The general pace of the work had slowed through the night as the men tired, and it was well past mid-morning before the last wagon was safely down. The children brought the herds down last while the men snatched a hasty snack or a few moments of rest.
***
According to Ash’s estimate, the point where the trail joined the high road at the foot of the escarpment was more than a full day’s travel from the city of Highport but some of the early wagons had already been sent a little way in that direction to make room for the later wagons coming down. The scouts they had sent up the Paelis road to warn of any approach from that direction, had not reported in so Ash sent two men to relieve them. He also sent two more up the trail towards Stadenbridge in case the main force from there had continued along the river instead of following the horsemen across country.
David had taken time out the previous day to speak to the prisoners, looking for recruits. The captain of the horsemen had declined to join them, to nobody’s great surprise and six of his surviving troopers had also refused. As David had threatened, they were taken back across the river and left without boots or weapons. The other four survivors had given their oath to David although one of them was so badly wounded it would be a week or more before he would be fit for even light duties.