Amane of Teravinea - The Crown (The Teravinea Series Book 3)

by D. Maria Trimble

  “I’m sorry, Amáne,” Eshshah said. “Are you all right? I didn’t intend that to be so abrupt.”

  “Aside from a splitting headache, I’ll be fine.”

  “Sovann said Lord Ansel is concerned. He saw my maneuver.”

  “Please tell him not to worry about me. Just take care. Those weapons are on his side as well.”

  We recognized several more harpoon cannons camouflaged with branches. Soldiers were in various stages of frantically uncovering and loading. Eshshah quickly dispatched them, and the men who armed them. Across the battlefield, Ansel and Sovann fought to eliminate those they found.

  The sun moved across the sky. We continued blazing the rearguard, punishing them with dragon fire. In the intervals when Eshshah could not spew fire, she flew low over the enemy and trumpeted her chilling shriek. This worked in confusing Galtero’s men. I drew my bow and picked off the nobles who rode below. When there was no danger in affecting our own, I lobbed Dorjan’s lightning balls.

  Our strategy and our dragons at last allowed us to push back the opposition. We broke their lines as they became disorganized. Their mounted infantry stopped advancing. The men on the horses were terrified of our dragons and panicked. The war horses, even though trained for battle, became skittish. They had never trained with dragons.

  Our forces pressed in. The enemy rear shoved forward to escape Sovann and Eshshah. The horsemen were squeezed in between. The desperation of their situation was readily apparent as they struggled to turn and fall back.

  I watched in horror as the mounted soldiers hacked down their own men to clear an escape. The massacre turned my stomach.

  Confusion reigned in the enemy forces. Their general signalled a retreat, but too late to pull back in an orderly manner. Many turned and ran in a frantic wave. A great number laid down their weapons in defeat.

  Eshshah and I flew over the battlefield toward small pockets of fighting — those that had not heard the order to retreat. Eshshah’s cry sent fear into their hearts. They halted their fight and surrendered their weapons before our troops.

  Never in my worse dreams did I expect to see such a sight as we toured over the battlefield. The whole plain was covered by those struck down, our side as well as Galtero’s, although the losses were asymmetrical. Theirs, by far outnumbered ours tenfold. I fought back my tears, and made a great effort to keep the contents of my stomach intact.

  “Lord Ansel wants us to retreat to the rear,” said Eshshah, “to return to the encampment. The battle is over. He said we will be needed there. He and Sovann are pursuing the horsemen. They’ll scour the hills to make sure there are no enemy forces in hiding.”

  “Does he think we can be of no help in scouring the hills? What does he mean by asking us to report back to camp?”

  “He was not asking. It was an order.”

  I stilled my tongue, but that did not help still my angry thoughts.

  We arrived as the wounded were being brought back to camp. My anger abated as I saw that we would be of more help here.

  The Healer rode in from the battlefield on a large war horse. She jumped off before the horse had stopped and rushed to tend the injuries that started to fill the hospital pavilion. Eshshah and I ran to assist.

  Relief washed over me when I saw Kail. He gave me an awkward salute as he half-carried one of his brothers into the tent. I helped him find a place to lower him onto the ground. Blood flowed freely from a wound in his brother’s side. He tried to decline my help, knowing there were others wounded more seriously than he. Disregarding his request, I placed my hands over his injuries, concentrating to at least stop the bleeding and allow him some release from the pain.

  Surveying my surroundings, I saw several rows of battle-torn soldiers in cots and on blankets on the floor. Their groans and sobs filled my ears. Bern lay in a cot down the line. He looked in a bad way with a gash from his temple to his jaw and his arm in a crude sling — his breathing uneven. I moved quickly to his side and pushed his hair back. He grimaced.

  Holding my hands over the laceration on his face, I closed my eyes and hummed Eshshah’s healing tune. Bern’s breathing relaxed. I eased up to conserve my strength. He at least, looked relieved. There were so many wounded, it was difficult for me to take it all in.

  Eshshah worked several rows down on other soldiers. Her incredible healing powers and her strength allowed her to treat the wounded more quickly and in greater numbers than I.

  The Healer came up behind me. Worry showed in her eyes. “Have you seen Avano?”

  “No. Surely he’s here somewhere?”

  “He’s the last of the riders to be accounted for. We’ve lost Andhun, rider of the late Qamra. May he rest with his ancestors.”

  I didn’t know Andhun well, but the loss of even a single dragon rider was devastating. I repeated the Healer’s words.

  “Bern and Calder are the only ones that needed serious attention. The rest came through with only minor scrapes,” she said.

  “You’re sure Avano isn’t among these?”

  “I’m sure. I’m sorry to have to ask. But do you feel up to the task of searching the battlefield?”

  “Absolutely, Healer. Eshshah, I’m going to leave you with the Healer. She needs you here. I’ll be back shortly.”

  “Be careful, Amáne,” Eshshah and the Healer said at the same time.

  I borrowed a fresh horse and wagon and headed back toward the battlefield. The wagon, in case Avano was too injured to ride a horse. I refused to think of any other use. Fear had me by the throat. I needed to find him alive. Aside from Gallen, who was a father figure to me, Avano had become my favorite of the riders, although I loved them all.

  My concern was so great that I hadn’t thought about the task for which I’d made myself available. Reining in the horse, I leaped off the seat and stood motionless at the edge of the carnage. I took in the macabre sight around me. The stench, the blood; moans and raspy final breaths of the dying. Carrion birds circled overhead. Some had landed and already partook in their feasting. Fighting my nausea, I brought my arm up and buried my nose in the crook of my elbow. I used my sleeve to filter at least part of the smell of death that rose around me. One foot before the other, I forced myself to move through the field. I must find Avano.

  A hand suddenly gripped my ankle. I gasped and drew my sword as I looked down at a young man, my enemy. Pity washed over me. The soldier lay at the edge of the Shadows, ready to pass to his ancestors — his face deathly pale. His leg lay apart from him, about an arm’s length. Blood flowed from where it had been severed. I nearly vomited. Although so near death, the man’s grip was strong. His mouth moved in unintelligible words.

  My fear left me. I sheathed my blade and dropped to my knees near his head. It was difficult to understand his plea. Leaning closer, I took his hands in mine and bent to listen.

  “Carlotta,” he murmured.

  “I’m not Carlotta,” I said.

  “Carlotta of Tramoren. My betrothed.”

  My throat closed.

  “For her ... my heart,” he said.

  “She is your heart?” What is he trying to tell me?

  “Letter,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

  “You have a letter for her?”

  His lips turned up in a weak smile. He pulled my hands to his chest and tapped his armor. I carefully unbuckled the sides and removed his pauldrons from his shoulders to raise his breastplate. I took the letter, folded it and tucked it down the front of my breastplate.

  “I’ll try to get this to her, I promise.”

  The young man’s hand squeezed mine. Death reflected in his eyes as he whispered, “Thank you.” Then he breathed his last.

  “Amáne!” Ansel screamed.

  The twang of a bow sounded. Two swishes and thuds echoed behind me. I spun around and dove out of the way. A halberd buried itself in the chest of Carlotta’s betrothed — the very spot I had just occupied. A large man dropped after it, two of Ansel’s arrows protrudin
g from his neck.

  Before I could recover from my shock, Ansel reached me and yanked me from the dirt. His hands squeezed my arms as he lifted me. My boots left the ground.

  “What are you doing on the battlefield alone? Who gave you permission to be here?” Ansel said, his eyes filled with fear and anger.

  “The Healer. I’m looking for Avano. You’re hurting me, Ansel.” My anger sprung up in reaction to his.

  His eyes softened as he lowered me. He wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in my neck.

  “Forgive me, Amáne. Stories are told of warriors who lost their lives on the battlefield after the battle was won. Sent to their ancestors by enemy they presumed dead.”

  I pushed away from him. “Or by their betrothed who snapped their necks in their haste to save them.”

  “I’m sorry.” He pulled me back and took my face in his hands. “He almost ... I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”

  “I know, Ansel.” I exhaled slowly. I looked down at the large man who would have ended my life — with Ansel as witness. “Thank you. It was ignorant of me to drop my guard like that. I hope this is as close as you get to losing me.” I trembled.

  Ansel leaned down and kissed me. He pulled me closer.

  Like a Valaira, realization hit me. A fear rose in my chest. His mother’s words. She told him to persevere, even in the face of great loss. He interprets that great loss to be me! And it was just nearly fulfilled. Suddenly my urgency matched his. I tightened my arms around him as a wave of shock took over my body.

  “Ansel, now I understand what you’ve been hiding from me. But we mustn’t think this way. Fear will do us no good.”

  Regardless of what I just said, I couldn’t stop my tremors. The events of this day wrapped around me. Not just the horrors of the battle, but the tragedy of the young soldier, someone’s betrothed. It came too close to home.

  I took a deep jagged breath and met Ansel’s eyes. “You will not lose me. I promise.” I hoped I sounded more confident than I felt.

  We clung to each other desperately.

  A familiar voice sounded over my shoulder. “My ancestors can take me now. Truly, this is a vision even I couldn’t dream up. Passion in the battlefield amidst the gore and the flies. It’s rather disturbing.”

  I whirled around. “Avano! I knew you, of all people would be one to walk off a battlefield. Your ancestors still want nothing to do with you.”

  Avano stood leaning on a spear, blood oozed from a wound on his thigh where his cuisse was missing — a strip of cloth tied above. A laceration over his eye left a dried streak of blood down his face.

  “I came looking for you,” I said.

  His eyebrows raised. “Then you have a strange way of searching. How exactly does that work — seeking me while locking lips with Lord Ansel? I’ll have to try that with you next time I’m in search of something.”

  “Avano,” I said, “you are incorrigible.”

  Ansel and I ushered the rider off the field and helped him into the back of the wagon. I climbed in with him and treated his wounds just enough to start his healing and ease his pain. Avano sighed in relief. Eshshah and Sovann would complete his treatment.

  Ansel shook the reins and we started back to camp.

  Avano glanced over his shoulder and studied Ansel, then turned his eyes to me. I scowled under his scrutiny.

  “What was that all about?” Avano asked. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you two suffered from battle madness.”

  With a resigned exhale, Ansel explained to him about his mother’s foretelling and his interpretation.

  Avano gave a deep sigh and nodded. “No one has full control of their destiny. The threads that are our lives are interwoven in a way we’ll probably never understand. You two share a love and a bond that’s rare. But, don’t let your fear of loss rule your life. No one gets out of here alive, anyway. We’ll all meet with our ancestors sooner or later.”

  A week had passed since the battle of Gorria Pass. Our dead were buried, wounds were healed. We met with little resistance as we marched toward the City of Teravinea.

  As Eshshah and I flew east, our view opened to a green valley spread below us. It sloped up to the walls of Castle Teravinea in the distance. Once abundant with vineyards, the land now stood barren. Galtero had confiscated all the properties immediately surrounding the castle and had let the grapevines go to ground.

  The location for our battle camp had been chosen to the west of the fortress. It faced the main gate to the walled city. Row after row with tents of all colors and sizes were set up about a league from the walls — within sight of Castle Teravinea. The banner of the golden dragon on a field of purple waved before the command pavilion. Our encampment spread far as our army amassed.

  No doubt Galtero sat behind his walls gloating, thinking our plan was to lay siege to the castle. Several siege engines in our camp helped convey that possibility. What he didn’t know was that we had a specialized team inside his walls — experts in the field of explosives, sent by King Tynan. With their handiwork, walls would topple, without so much as a siege engine moving.

  Through contact with my father, the date was established when we would breach the walls. The time dragged on as we waited.

  One day as Gallen worked with Eshshah and me on aerial battle strategy, an idea came to me.

  “Gallen, remember when you taught Eshshah and me the rope dismount?”

  He nodded.

  “Instead of using a rope for one rider to descend from a dragon, why not one in which multiple personnel can be suspended on the line?”

  Gallen showed an interest, so I continued. “Several loops could be spaced evenly along a rope tied to the saddle. Soldiers would use them as foot and wrist holds. With it, a dragon could transport a small team. It could be used to insert or extract fighters into or out of a situation, like a rescue.”

  Intrigued by my idea, Gallen worked with Dorjan to see if we could put it to use. Dorjan constructed a prototype and arranged several drills to introduce my device. After testing and reconfiguring the line, they decided it would prove worthwhile.

  We found Eshshah could safely transport eight others and myself. Sovann, being larger, could manage twelve, plus Ansel. The rescue rig became a standard item on our fighting saddles.

  Early one afternoon, the riders convened in the command pavilion. We gathered around the large battle table, complete with a replica of Castle Teravinea built in miniature. Small conical shapes lay in the area that represented our encampment.

  “At my signal, tomorrow,” Ansel said, “the explosives team will blow these outside walls and this inner wall.” He used a long stick to indicate the locations. “Our troops will enter at the breach. With our dragons, we should be able to take the castle by the end of day. Calder will lead a small team in search of Galtero.”

  Ansel straightened and scanned the riders around him. “Some of you know I sent a messenger this morning to Galtero. She carried an invitation for him to meet with me on neutral ground. I’m giving him the opportunity to surrender. He sees our numbers. He knows most of the kingdom supports me. My offer to him would be safe passage out of Teravinea to live in exile.”

  Groans and protests traveled around the table.

  “Riders, I’m not that naive to expect he’ll comply with my stipulations. But if I can avoid the massive loss of life in the upcoming battle, I will be willing to take that chance. I expect him to decline, but I had to try.”

  The dragon riders went silent. My heart went out to Ansel.

  “The girl should return by early evening with Galtero’s response.”

  I had, in fact, spoken with the messenger that morning before she left. Her name was Berani. I advised her not to reveal she was female and coached her to carry off a more masculine walk and voice. Certain they would take her sword until she finished her mission and left the castle, I gave her one of my belts that held a concealed knife. She was an accomplished warrior. I kne
w she wouldn’t hesitate to use it, but I still cautioned her to remain watchful.

  Evening came and Berani had not returned. I worried for her safety. I knew about the twisted nature of Galtero. The memory of his arena of death still invaded even my waking moments.

  I stood by myself near the edge of camp and faced the castle. The expanse of empty field stretched in ominous shadow to the fortress.

  Ansel came up beside me and put his arm around my shoulder.

  “You’re just as worried about that girl as I,” he said. “She volunteered first. Perhaps I should have chosen a man.”

  “Ansel. You know better than that,” I admonished. “Besides, I made sure myself she would pass for a male. She should not be discovered as otherwise.” Even still, I hope she comes back soon.

  In the distance several horns blew from the castle walls, drawing our attention. The sky had not yet darkened. We raised our eyes and watched an object silhouetted against the blue — something catapulted from the castle. The strange shape grew larger as it flew toward us.

  Whatever it was landed about halfway between us and the castle. Keeping our eye on the walls in case they fired again, Ansel and I moved quickly to the dark shape on the ground.

  We were still several strides away when my blood went cold, my stomach clenched. I couldn’t stop the scream that came from my mouth. A headless body lay before us.

  Ansel pulled me close and turned my face to his chest, so I couldn’t see. I shoved away and ran toward the body. My belt, that I had lent to Berani, verified my fear. This was the tyrant’s answer to Ansel’s message.

  I stood trembling near Berani and shouted at the castle as I shook my fist. “You will pay for this, Galtero and for all your crimes. I will personally bury my glaive in your black heart.”

  Eshshah flew to the field and touched me with her nose. She breathed her calming breath on me, then approached the lifeless body. Gently cradling the girl in her front talons, she took flight and carried her tenderly back to our camp.

  Ansel guided me back, looking as devastated as I felt. It was enough horror to lose people in battle, but such a barbaric act when we were attempting a peaceful parley, was unthinkable.