The Pool And The Pedestal (Book 2)

by Daniel McHugh

  “I can see that you will not be comfortable until I’m out of sight.” smiled Lilywynn. “Even though that doesn’t mean you are out of my sight.”

  The young woman turned to the butte and cupped a hand to her mouth. She took a deep breath and issued a high pitched cry. A moment later, Kael heard an answering cry from the heights. The girl saluted the group at the pool and sprinted from the glade.

  Vieri sat in the dark shadows of the rocky outcrop staring at the pool below. The assassin guessed correctly. The group’s direction and speed convinced Vieri this location would be their next stop. The Windrider knew any sane traveler would find this spot ideal, and evidence of the glade’s previous use assured her the Guardsman in the group would suggest it. They came as the assassin predicted. So safe and secure in their choice that they hardly scouted the position. They simply dismounted, trekked through the brush and set up a haphazard camp. The skill the older gray haired Guardsman displayed in their training fortress impressed Vieri, but now he acted foolishly and once again the Windrider felt these Northerners to be unwise and sloppy.

  They swam and frolicked in the pool as if they possessed no cares or worries. This undisciplined attitude toward danger would be the undoing of the boy. It required no great feat to determine where they would camp, and it would take minimal effort to enter the camp this evening and slit the boy’s throat.

  Vieri had scaled the butte around midday. Its heights were a barren, wind scraped slab of granite. There was no cover for the assassin there. Vieri looked down upon the pool from the heights and scouted the butte’s wall. There Vieri discovered the perfect spot to wait for the target. The assassin spied a ledge some ten yards below the butte’s flat top. Vieri dropped to the ledge from an overhang. This was suicide for most. There existed no way to climb the overhang back to the butte’s summit and a one hundred yard plunge to the rocky pool below. However, this was no issue for a Borz Windrider. The assassin slid in under the confining ledge next to the bones of wild hares and mourning doves and waited.

  The sun dipped toward the horizon when Vieri noticed movement in the camp. The old man and the senior Elf stood as a tiny figure stepped from the thickets. Vieri’s interest was piqued. The Windrider hadn’t noticed this girl with the group before. The girl appeared to give a report to the pair as the men in the pool moved toward shore.

  Vieri noticed a small dust cloud floating North, beyond the great hill that straddled the road. Guardsmen were on the move. A small party, but definitely a retreat from the Northern marches. This Elf girl must have entered the camp to report on the soldier’s movements. Interesting. The girl acted as a scout for the group. All of those days shadowing this troop and Vieri hadn’t noticed the girl. A mistake. Vieri felt shame. The assassin ridiculed the group as they bathed, overconfident and blind to the world around them. It was Vieri who was blind. For days the assassin missed a key part of the puzzle. Vieri vowed greater vigilance. This type of mistake wouldn’t happen again.

  The girl below turned from the old man and let out a cry. A vaguely familiar sound which Vieri fought to recall. As the assassin pondered the cry, Vieri heard light movement on the cliff above. The Windrider froze as a tiny figure stepped to the edge of the butte. It had the look of a boy, but its demeanor and confidence betrayed its age. The young man cupped a hand to his mouth and returned the call.

  The cry of the marshwight. Vieri recognized it now. When the Shan Borz returned to the Toxkri Swamp every year to gather rimshar, Rada had taught Vieri the cry of the marshwight and shown the young Windrider the bird and its beautiful plumage. This boy and his female counterpart knew the bird and its call. Once again Vieri’s interest was piqued. Perhaps a greater investigation of the swamp was warranted. Vieri would council with Rada upon returning to the tribe. For now, the assassin remained covered in black, hidden in the dark shadows of the cliffside. This boy would need to stare directly at Vieri for several moments to even see the assassin. Besides, no Northerner would think to look at such an inaccessible spot for an enemy.

  The boy took one last look over the edge of the butte then turned and dashed from sight. The girl must have called him to return from scouting the huge, granite pedestal. Vieri escaped discovery, but the assassin was furious. Far too many mistakes. This target proved to be a difficult task. Rada’s worries were justified. Many forces worked to protect such a nondescript boy. Tonight the job would be finished.

  CHAPTER 15: DRAVGO OF AQUABA

  Cefiz stood in the middle of the road at the base of the great hill holding the reins of his stallion. Ader stood to his left and Teeg to his right. They weren’t required to wait long before the first of the Guardsmen crested the large hill and looked down upon them in the half-light of dusk.

  Immediately, a cry went up and the troop broke formation. Riders fanned across the hilltop and drew their weapons. Several men near the center of the line took stock of the situation and held a brief conference. Finally, a rider slowly descended the hill.

  “I see no flag of truce flapping in the North breeze.” called the rider. “So my inclination is to consider all those I encounter in a battle zone the enemy!”

  “I wear the crest and colors of my regiment proudly.” returned Cefiz. “And therefore I need no flag of truce!”

  The rider continued his approach, eyeing the trio suspiciously.

  “In the fading light your colors and crest won’t save you from a crossbow bolt!” snapped the rider. “My men are battle weary and on edge. As you lie on your back in the middle of this dusty road bleeding to death they will happily give their apologies for shooting first and asking your regiment second.”

  Cefiz frowned.

  “My apologies.” said the cook. “I’ve always believed a flag of truce arouses suspicion. I let my colors and crest speak for me. I have nothing to hide. I’m Lieutenant Cefiz of the Seventy Fifth Lancers, on a mission escorting emissaries of the Royal House of Luxlor to the battlefront.”

  “To me, a flag of truce arouses no suspicion. Any man who has struggled in battle knows caution must be taken at all times. “ said the rider. “However, evoking the colors and crest of a unit long dead and gone does raise a brow. The gold that Izgra pays his spies will be difficult to spend beneath the dirt, my friend.”

  “My unit may be gone, but we’re not dead.” grinned Cefiz. “Well, not all of us. And I carry no flag of truce because I carry the blessing of the General Staff.”

  Cefiz drew a parchment from beneath his uniform and extended it toward the rider. The rider heeled his mount forward and drew up along side the lieutenant. Cefiz was shocked. He expected a man almost twice the boy’s age.

  The rider grasped the parchment and wheeled his horse back to the great hill.

  “I’ll show this to my commander. “ called the young man over his shoulder. “Don’t move!”

  The rider chucked the flanks of his mount and the horse charged up the hill. A moment later he passed the parchment to his superior and they held an animated conversation. After a few moments, a trio of riders returned down the hill. They halted a yard from Cefiz and inspected the lieutenant.

  The middle rider commanded the respect of the other two. He was old. Maybe as old as Brelg. He had the hardened look of a man who’d seen many battles. Scars crisscrossed a face wrinkled by too many years sitting in a saddle under the harsh sun. His comrades glanced between the old soldier and Cefiz, waiting for the man to speak.

  “Lieutenant Cefiz of the Orphans.” smiled the old man. “I never thought I would hear that name again.”

  “I don’t use it much.” stated Cefiz dryly. “To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”

  “I’m Sergeant Dravgo Shandley of the Fifty First Cavalry.” smiled the old man bowing his head. “At your service.”

  Cefiz chuckled and shook his head.

  “Your second in command accused me of being a spy.” laughed Cefiz nodding to the young rider on Shandley’s right. “He couldn’t believe I was from a unit thought to
be disbanded long ago. Yet here you are evoking the name of a unit equally as dead, and a man long since ...retired.”

  “I’m a soldier, Cefiz.” growled the old man. “I don’t like to dance around the truth. The word is ‘removed’. I was removed from the Guard.”

  “Your unit was badly outnumbered at Aquaba Valley.” stated Cefiz.

  The old man’s head dipped and his eyes drifted.

  “All but three of us were killed.” said Dravgo solemnly.

  “A terrible loss of men.” replied Cefiz.

  Dravgo’s head shot up.

  “Boys!” shouted the old man. “Hardly in their teens. Untrained and ill-equipped for battle. I told the Staff I needed time to rotate my unit home and have it bolstered with properly trained soldiers. They wouldn’t allow it. Instead, we were ordered to support the retreat of the Twenty Third Lancers from the foothills above Aquaba. The Twenty Third never showed.”

  “But a Frenzy of Ulrog fell upon you.” added Cefiz.

  “Yes. Led by a Malveel.” continued Dravgo shaking his head. “They swept down from the foothills and overran my troop. We hadn’t received fresh mounts in months and my foot soldiers marched for two days straight in order to arrive in time to support the Twenty Third. It was a massacre. We rode as hard as we could, but one by one we were overcome and dragged to valley floor by the claws of Hackles. I managed to defend myself against the pair that ripped my mount out from beneath me, but most of my men were not so lucky. I retrieved a fallen comrade’s horse and escaped before the other Ulrog noticed their fallen brethren.“

  “So the General Staff removed you from command.” stated Cefiz.

  “Men didn’t want to follow the infamous Colonel Shandley, the man whose entire unit was destroyed at the Massacre of Aquaba.” scoffed Dravgo. “I was removed from command and sent to my families properties in the South.”

  “Yet here we sit.” stated Cefiz.

  “A sign of the times, my friend.” chuckled Dravgo. “Things must surely be grave if the General Staff needed to retrieve me from exile. Of course, I’m supposed to be in a position where I can do the least damage. And they’d hoped the memories of Aquaba had long since faded.”

  “Soldiers possess long memories.” smiled Cefiz.

  The old man swung his hand to the cavalry aligned on the hilltop.

  “This lot wanted nothing to do with me.” smiled Dravgo. “But they didn’t protest. Our assignment was in supply support. We were to escort food and weapons to the front. Normally a very uneventful task.”

  “Yet somehow I imagine it’s become more than that.” said Cefiz.

  “Eh.” shrugged Dravgo. “We’ve run into some minor trouble now and again.”

  There was a moment of silence, then the young rider spoke up.

  “Our unit has had five major engagements with the Ulrog in the past season.” chirped the rider proudly.

  “Koe!” admonished the old man.

  “My apologies, Sergeant Shandley.” said the rider dropping his head.

  Shandley turned back to Cefiz.

  “Youth.” smiled the old man. “Always impatient and full of vinegar. I don’t wish to belittle the accomplishments of my men, but like all good units, we should keep our bragging within our own family.”

  “So it’s safe to say your skill hasn’t left you.” said Cefiz.

  “Not my doing really.” replied Dravgo. “These are good men. They needed a few encounters to get wet behind the ears, but I would be proud to stand with them on any battlefield.”

  “And we’re proud to be led by Sergeant Dravgo Shandley.” interjected the young man. “A true leader of men.”

  Shandley didn’t admonish the boy this time. He simply smiled at Cefiz and let it pass.

  “Enthusiasm.” laughed Shandley. “The well spring of youth.”

  “A commodity I ran out of years ago.” stated Ader dryly.

  Dravgo’s eyes shifted to the Seraph and quickly appraised Ader.

  “If I lived as long as Ader Hartstrong, I would have run out as well.” stated Dravgo.

  Teeg arched an eyebrow at the old soldier. The young rider looked puzzled.

  “You were a young colonel when last we met, Dravgo.” stated Ader. “Your young attendant calls you ‘sergeant’.”

  “The price I paid for my failure.” scoffed Dravgo. “They wanted me back, but needed assurance I couldn’t actually meddle in their war. I was required to accept the rank of sergeant in order to assume this command.”

  “And you did it?” questioned Ader.

  “It’s the only way to serve my people.” returned Dravgo. “What care have I for high rank? I command my unit and I’ve been able to exact revenge against the beasts in my old age. What more could a man want?”

  “To assist in a greater task.” replied Ader.

  The old sergeant’s eyes narrowed.

  “How?” he asked.

  “You know what side I walk on.” said Ader. “I fight the fight even harder today. I’m camped here on my way to continue the fight.”

  “Then I support you.” said Dravgo.

  “I’ll ask you to join us in camp.” stated Ader. “But I’ll caution you to prepare your men. We are an odd company to be found on the open road.”

  “Odd?” questioned Dravgo.

  “Yes, odd.” said Ader. “I will spare the details, but I must demand that your men swear an oath to refrain from violence when in our presence.”

  Dravgo’s eyes narrowed.

  “I can swear for myself.” said the old man. “And I can order my men to do no violence, but no one can say what’s in a man’s heart.”

  “If we’re ordered by Sergeant Shandley to refrain from violence against any in your company.” blurted Koe. “Then you enjoy our protection. Our commander’s word is our bond.”

  “Swear it!” demanded Ader turning on the young man.

  “I swear on the life of Dravgo Shandley, the man who has saved the life of every soldier in this company at least three times.” stated Koe.

  Dravgo turned to the young man.

  “Pass the word to the unit.” said Dravgo. “Once the order goes out, have the men file into the campsite and post the usual guard pattern.”

  Koe saluted and wheeled his horse toward the top of the great hill. In a moment he had come alongside the others in his unit and passed amongst them. Dravgo chuckled and turned to Cefiz.

  “Ah to be young and idealistic again.” laughed Dravgo. “Corporal Koe is a good soldier and will make an excellent officer someday.”

  Dravgo deftly turned in his saddle and dropped from the back of his mount.

  “It’s been a long ride.” said Dravgo. “Let’s retire to the camp and let me look upon the rest of your unusual company.”

  Cefiz led the way as the men returned to the glade. Granu stood near the fire pit flanked by Kael and Eidyn. Dravgo never broke stride as he approached the trio. He lightly bowed his head.

  “Prince Granu of the Keltar,” said Dravgo to the giant. “How fare you?”

  Granu blinked, unprepared for the cordiality.

  “I’m well.” rumbled the giant.

  “I am Dravgo Shandley.” stated the old Sergeant. “I had the ... unique experience of trading blows with your Father at the Battle of Horncrest.”

  “My father was wounded at Horncrest.” stated Granu.

  “An inch to the left and my blade would have found his throat.” said Dravgo calmly. “However, the shoulder wound incapacitated him sufficiently.”

  “The shoulder causes him trouble at night.” returned Granu. “He has difficulty sleeping on it.”

  “The wages of war.” shrugged Dravgo.

  “We all pay a price for violence.” replied Granu narrowing his eyes. “But I’m puzzled?”

  “By what?” asked Dravgo.

  “You find no surprise by my presence here.” said Granu.

  “We heard word along the supply train that a Keltaran lord was being detained at the Hold and
forced to train the Southern militia.” said Dravgo.

  “Not exactly.” returned Granu.

  “Not at all!” laughed Dravgo. “I knew it to be a falsehood as soon as I heard it. You Keltaran are a proud people. No mere threat of physical harm could induce one of you to commit treason.”

  “I’ve come to believe that treason is a subjective concept.” said Granu. “Guilt or innocence is in the eye of the beholder.”

  “The Abbott offers himself in alliance to Prince Manfir.” said Ader.

  Dravgo thought on the statement for a moment, nodded in understanding then turned to the Seraph.

  “I guessed the truth concerning the Keltaran instructor at the Hold was closer to your explanation than that of the supply corp.” said Dravgo turning to Granu. “I don’t know your reason for defecting from your people, nor do I care. I’m a soldier and I fight for my country when and where I’m told.”

  The brush behind Dravgo rustled and Guardsmen led their mounts into the glade. Each man’s eyes immediately fell upon the huge Keltaran and briefly registered shock. Granu calmly met each stare and did not fluster. The soldiers moved past the group and tethered their horses to the surrounding trees.

  Kael recognized the absence of Nostr. When the boy stripped to enter the pool, the Scribe stood just inside the brush in his usual frozen stance. Now, the spot was empty. Kael’s vision caught that of Teeg’s. The Elf stared at the boy for a moment as Kael nodded toward the last known location of Nostr. Teeg shrugged.

  Dravgo’s soldiers added fuel to the fire pit and spread blankets throughout the clearing. A few of the heartier souls entered the pool for a quick swim. They exited shivering as the night caught a chill.

  Granu and Cefiz sat by the fire exchanging stories. Eidyn and Kael gave their mounts a rub down. Most of the Guardsmen in camp remained silent, glancing sidelong at the huge Keltaran. Finally, Corporal Koe strode toward the fire and stood over the Keltaran prince.