His relief was so profound that he had to fight the urge to drop the spells and yell something salty at the Shimerans—but he refrained. Selene would be impressed with my maturity these days, he told himself.
Picking up speed, Will continued on at a light jog. The sooner he could reach his battered divisions and stop their retreat into the ambush, the better. He kept the camouflage spell active, though. The last thing he needed was to be attacked by his own men if he ran straight into them the way he had nearly done with the Shimerans.
At a guess, he covered roughly two miles of scrubby terrain that was predominately small trees and light undergrowth. Going north a short distance and using the road was tempting, but he knew better than to expose himself to more distant viewers.
Dusk had arrived and the sun was no longer visible when he finally heard the sounds of men on the road. He was glad to see that though they appeared battered and tired, whoever was currently commanding them had decided they could stop for the evening. Sentries were being set, and camp duties appeared to be progressing efficiently.
There were even wards in place. Will adjusted his turyn to slip through them, then made his way to the center, where the officers’ tents would be. It was time to resume command.
Chapter 44
Field Marshal Lustral and Sub-Marshal Nicht were in the midst of a disagreement when Will entered the tent and dropped the spells that had kept him unnoticed. They continued on for nearly a minute before becoming aware of his presence.
“It’s pure foolishness to stop here,” argued Fulstrom. “They’re scant miles behind us. The more ground we cover, the more likely we are to meet our relief before they overtake us again.”
Lustral eyed the sub-marshal with undisguised disdain. “They should be grateful we’re withdrawing. They don’t dare engage us again.”
“Are you mad?” demanded Fulstrom. “I know you took a solid knock to the head and you were unconscious for the worst of it, but they handed us our asses!”
“And I’m sure their losses were just as bad,” said Lustral.
Fulstrom’s eyes bulged so much they looked as if they might pop right out. “No. No, they weren’t. They were a fraction of ours. Do you not understand? We were thoroughly trounced. If Spry hadn’t cleared the way for us, it might have been—”
Lustral cut him off. “Victorious, Sub-marshal. Regardless of your personal opinions, that is how we are going to present this when we reunite with the others. Do you understand?”
Fulstrom simply gaped in silence, so flustered he couldn’t respond.
The field marshal continued, “We can either take the blame for this, or we can return as heroes who salvaged what we could after Spry’s blunder.”
“You can spin whatever fantasies you want in your reports, but the enemy behind us isn’t going to play along. We can’t camp here!” growled Fulstrom.
Will chose that moment to intervene. “Actually, much as I hate to agree with him, we do need to camp here.”
Both men turned to stare at him in shock, then responded with two different tones of surprise. “You!” exclaimed Lustral, in a tone of equal parts worry and disgust.
Fulstrom stiffened as an instinctive, “Sir!” leapt from his lips. He seemed both relieved and puzzled.
“It’s an illusion,” warned Lustral, backing up slightly.
“Shut up, Field Marshal,” snapped Will. “You could easily see an illusion if I was using one. Besides, in case you weren’t listening, I’m agreeing with you—though not for the same reasons.”
“How did you get here?” asked the sub-marshal.
“I rode like the wind and then went afoot when it became too difficult to sneak past the enemy.” He pointed to the west. “We have a large Shimeran force hidden alongside the road waiting for us.”
“Impossible,” sputtered Lustral, still trying to get his bearings.
Will went to the side of the tent, where a small table had a wooden pitcher on it. He poured himself a cup of water and then found a chair. “Allow me to rest my feet. It’s been a long journey.” They watched him finish his first long swallow, then he spoke again. “It’s entirely possible. I saw them with my own eyes.”
The field marshal stared while Fulstrom covered his face with both hands. Neither of them seemed to know what to make of the news. Will continued, “We will camp tonight, praying that the Darrowans don’t press their advantage. Hopefully, they are fully aware of where their mercenaries are, in which case they will want to wait until we spring the trap tomorrow. The odds will be stacked in their favor then, minimizing their losses, so I believe they’ll be patient.”
The sub-marshal found his voice at last. “But that just reinforces what I said. We have to move now. Either we turn and fight, or we rush the ambushers—tonight—when they aren’t fully prepared.”
“It would still be a disaster for us,” said Will. “And from what I’ve seen of what you have left, I don’t think we could take the Shimeran force in an open battle. I can’t speak to the odds against the Darrowan force, since I haven’t seen them. You were saying that they were far weaker, weren’t you, Field Marshal?” There was an ironic twist on his lips as he said the last.
“Closer to an even match,” said Lustral, reframing his earlier remarks.
“The scouts report they outnumber us two to one,” countered Fulstrom. “They are somewhat battle weary, as we are, but their morale is higher now that they’ve driven us into retreat.”
“I think I have a better grasp of things than you do, Sub-Marshal,” said the field marshal, keeping his tone more diplomatic than before.
Will came to a decision, and distasteful as it was, he couldn’t afford to delay it. “Sub-Marshal Nicht, please leave us for a while so I can speak privately with the field marshal.”
Fulstrom nodded quickly and left, though his features betrayed his obvious worry about the overall situation. Once they were alone, Will asked, “How long have you been working with them?”
“Excuse me?” Lustral’s face was a picture of innocent confusion.
“The Darrowans. You were the one who betrayed our choice of routes before we reached Klendon, weren’t you?”
Lustral’s eye twitched and then his face began to turn red. “I’ve been a faithful servant of King Lognion for my entire life. How dare you—” His voice cut off abruptly as Will paralyzed him with a near-instant source-link. The duke struggled internally, but despite his age and supposed experience, the nobleman failed to put up more than a token resistance.
Three major elementals started to manifest, but Will’s sword was already at the man’s throat. “You should reconsider that,” he warned. The elementals dwindled seconds later, and Will began rifling through the nobleman’s coat pockets. Lustral’s eyes bulged in outrage, but he could say nothing. Disappointingly, Will found nothing.
He would rather have found the evidence he expected, but he didn’t need it. Reaching out with his free hand, he pulled at the knot of turyn near Lustral’s heart. Three distinct enchantments came to the surface, and Will began picking them apart.
The paralyzed nobleman tried desperately to scream, but only his eyes would move, displaying panic and horror as Will undid the first of the three heart-stone enchantments. The elementals began to manifest again, but Will pushed the sword more firmly against his throat. “Don’t, or I’ll have to ruin your clothes.”
Tears of rage began running from Lustral’s eyes as Will finished freeing the other two elementals. Once he was done with that, he smiled sadly, then put away his sword. “See? Isn’t it nicer that I didn’t have to open your throat?” The duke seemed faintly relieved, but his panic returned when his chest seized up and his breathing stopped.
“A lot of men died because of you, Lustral,” said Will, leaning over his former second-in-command. “I still don’t know if my cousin survived your treacherous games, but either way, I can’t afford to allow you to give away my plan before morning.” Lustral’s face was almost purple
now.
Will patted the bandage wrapped around the field marshal’s head. “The funny thing about head wounds, as any doctor or nurse will tell you, is that they’re sneaky. Sometimes people can die from a minor blow. Other times they’re fine, but most scary of all, sometimes they seem fine, then die hours or even days later. It seems that you turned out to be one of those.”
“Don’t worry. You won’t be remembered as a traitor, mainly because that would be inconvenient. People might wonder about the circumstances of your death then. No, I’ll see to it that your legacy is that of an incompetent and ultimately tragic leader who failed to become a hero. When they tell the tale, people won’t cry much for you, not like they will for Lord Spry, who truly did his duty.” Will watched the light fade from the nobleman’s eyes, though he felt little satisfaction.
He didn’t take that as a reassuring sign of humanity, however. Will had seen enough revenge and retribution to know it never brought any real satisfaction, only emptiness, and he’d known that before executing Lustral. What really worried him was the fact that what he had done only bothered him a little. His stomach felt unsteady, and he had a faint sense of guilt, but that was it.
He wasn’t going to lose any sleep. I’m more like my enemies with every day that passes, he noted. But a more cynical voice in his head replied, but at least I’m alive and they aren’t.
It wasn’t a justification. He just didn’t give enough of a damn to let it bother him. Not then. Maybe he would agonize over it later—maybe. Will stared at Felix Lustral’s body for a minute, his mind blank, and then he rushed to the tent’s door. “I need some help here! The field marshal has collapsed.”
Half an hour later, the late-duke’s body was carried out on a stretcher while Sub-Marshal Nicht and a host of junior officers looked on. Once he was gone Fulstrom ordered the others out so he could speak to Will alone. Will was surprised at the man’s courage. He wasn’t sure he would have wanted to be alone with himself if he was in the other man’s position.
“I won’t miss him,” said Fulstrom honestly, “but there will be rumors.”
“Rumors I’ve gotten used to,” said Will dismissively. “Only the truth is important.” His cynical tone belied his point.
The sub-marshal met his eyes, then looked away before asking, “And what is the truth today, sir?”
“The field marshal was a tragic soul. A man who tried to do his duty but consistently chose poorly. Despite his good intentions, First Division was nearly wiped out, and Third suffered greatly as well. Thank goodness Sub-Marshal Spry was there to save the day, or none of you would have survived,” said Will in a falsely sentimental tone.
“I don’t think the field marshal had good intentions, sir.”
Will nodded, but responded differently, “Let’s not speak ill of the dead, Sub-marshal. We have a war yet to win.”
Fulstrom didn’t hide his despondence. “Can we win, sir? There’s a large force on our heels and we’re facing an ambush if we continue to retreat.”
Will tried to be honest, “I don’t know, but I have hope. Who leads the Third since Spry fell?”
“Subcommander Terrell.”
“Call him in here so we can lay out our plan for the morning,” said Will.
***
Will sat in his own tent, trying to relax. He had kept the meeting short, since he had only a rudimentary plan to discuss anyway. They would be rising early, but they wouldn’t be marching until Will saw signs that the time was right.
Assuming Janice had done her part and that the Second and Sixth managed to execute properly, he wouldn’t be able to order the First and Third to move until sometime after noon. That was less than ideal, and no one expected the Darrowans to sit around with their thumbs up their asses. They’d be pressing forward to drive the Terabinians into the Shimeran ambush.
Will spent a few minutes in the astral plane watching his friend. Tiny was sitting in what appeared to be a small copse of trees with no fire. There wasn’t much to see, so Will moved on to Janice. He was encouraged to see she looked exhausted, but she was still mounted. Most importantly, she was not alone. There was an army around her. The Second and Sixth were marching through the night.
They’d be exhausted tomorrow, but they would be there.
Last of all, he peeked in on Selene. Though it was late, she wasn’t in bed. Instead, she sat in the front parlor, still dressed, as though she had been entertaining guests. She was alone, however, and Will was struck by the desire to put his arms around her. He knew she was suffering with the fear that she might never be able to use magic again in any meaningful way, and what made it worse was that he was off at war, the very time when she wished she could be of greatest use to him.
For his own part, Will felt useless that he wasn’t home with her instead. The war was enormously important, but it felt contrived. It needn’t have happened at all, if Lognion hadn’t insisted on invading.
It had been more than a week since he had used the heart-stone enchantment to contact her directly. He’d avoided using it because it tired her so quickly, but he decided tonight would be the exception. No telling what tomorrow will bring.
Returning to his body, he activated the enchantment and saw her face appear before him. The light in her eyes when she saw him in return was all the reward he could have wanted. “I love you,” he said quickly.
“And I you,” she replied. “Are you well? What’s happening?”
Will’s words rushed out in a tumble, since he didn’t want to waste time. “Klendon and Maldon are ours. I’m trying to coordinate everything to push on to Myrsta next.” It was technically true, but his explanation left out all the adrenaline-inducing details.
“You’re leaving out a lot,” she accused.
He smiled and nodded. “I am. I know how much this wears you out. I just wanted to give you the rough outline and let you know I’m well and thinking about you.” He could already see sweat beading up as her face lost its color. “Good night, love.”
“I love you!” she quickly blurted out before he cut the connection between them.
Will stared up at the ceiling of his tent for a short while. I’m going to be in a bit of trouble with her when she finds out all the details. Assuming I survive, he thought. He closed his eyes, doubting he would sleep easily, but two days of deprivation had a different opinion on the matter. The world vanished, and his breathing evened out as he fell into a dreamless slumber.
Chapter 45
Will woke in the small hours of the morning, and though he still had another hour before he’d asked to be awakened, he couldn’t fall back asleep, for an idea had come to him. He kept turning it over in his head, unsure if it would work. It was similar to things he’d done in the past, yet different enough that he felt a little uncertain of his ability.
And even if it works, will it be enough to buy us half a day or more? He couldn’t be sure. “And would it be better to start early or late?” he muttered to himself. Early would spoil the Darrowans’ rest, but it might also encourage them to move sooner, rather than later.
He forced himself to think it through. “What would I do if I was their commander in that situation?” I’d send out scouts in every direction and wait for reports before blundering into something foolish, he thought, answering himself.
“The next question,” he said aloud, “is what would I expect to see from this camp that would confirm my suspicion?” A slow grin spread across his face, before quickly fading into a frown. The enemy could misunderstand, or come to a different conclusion, or worse, they might decide an immediate attack was the best solution for the dilemma he presented them with.
If they did attack, they’d discover his threat to be nothing more than a paper tiger. He agonized over it for half an hour before deciding it was the only plan he had, so it was that or nothing. Then he activated the limnthal and spoke to his ring. “Are you awake?” he asked in a hushed and somber tone.
Arrogan replied in the same tone, �
��Are you stupid? I’m awake whenever you activate the limnthal and speak to me.”
Will fought to keep from smiling, though it hardly mattered, then he updated his mentor on the situation and explained his plan. “What do you think?”
“It’s as likely to work as it is to go tits up,” replied his grandfather. “You need another card to play when it starts falling apart.”
“I don’t have anything else.”
A malicious chuckle emerged from the ring. “I’m pretty sure you do.”
Desperate for hope, Will immediately latched on to the hint. “What is it?”
“No idea,” said Arrogan with complete sincerity. “But from what you’ve said, your new talent has matured. If you can imagine using it the way you suggested, then there are probably several other ways it could be used if things get truly bad.”
Will rubbed his eyes to clear them of sleep. “It would be nice if you just gave me a neat solution rather than a nebulous bunch of dung.”
Arrogan growled, then paused. “Fine. I really don’t know, but I do have some practical advice. What was the biggest limiting factor when you used your talent in the past?”
He sighed. “Obviously the fact that it’s just sound. Lightning or mountain moving would be a lot better—something destructive or defensive.”
“You destroyed a gate already. Your talent seems plenty destructive to me,” said the old man.
“That took time, and from what I could tell it wouldn’t work on an open field with a large array of different things. I’d need to get close and focus on one thing at a time.”
“Describe what you mean,” said Arrogan.
Will tried. “I could probably break a boulder, or a building, but I think it has to all be made of the same thing, like stone or wood. It probably also helps if it’s relatively rigid, but I’m not sure. It might work on a person too, but either way, I’d need to be close to them. There’s no way I could do that to an army at a distance.”
Disciple of War (Art of the Adept Book 4) Page 40