Assassin of the Heart: Book Two: The Temple Islands Series

by Richard Parker

  Marcum nodded as Gwaynn turned to Prince Phillip. “Let’s scout the enemy and attack Manse as soon as possible.”

  XI

  The final attack on the Mac began to the south of Pachout’s position very early in the morning before the sun was over the horizon. The Toranado General could hear the clash of arms in the cool air, but because of the dense fog that developed over the Mac he could not see any of the action. The fighting had been heavy now for four days. The Knights were beginning to push harder, sensing victory.

  ‘And they will soon have it,’ Pachout thought with resignation. But already he and his army had held the ridge above the Mac for far longer than he would have predicted and against great odds. Half his men were gone, most killed or wounded but there were some who’d just lost heart or courage and fled away into the night. He did not begrudge those men, did not think them cowards. They would have to live with the decisions they made, and the shame it brought them. He was confident those same men would again take the fight to the invaders and eventually move to Eno and help their Queen. The army was in a hopeless position. If they retreated from the river bluffs they would be caught and cut down on the plains below, and if they stayed only death or capture waited for them. They could not win.

  But his men inflicted horrific loses on the Palmerrio and far more on the Temple Knights than he would have dreamed possible, but those losses were becoming less and less as attrition depleted his force.

  ‘Today might be the day,’ he thought, thinking of his own death. Earlier in the morning he sent nearly thirty of his men out to the left flank to help Sergeant…no, now Captain Lowery. He could hear them fighting even now. Lowery was a good man, and growing better by the day. It would be a shame to lose him for he’d shown himself to be a very capable officer and an excellent leader of men. The left flank was weak however, dangerously so and if the Palmerrio broke through…then today would be the day.

  His thoughts were interrupted by yells of warning. He heard the twang of bows to his right, and a few returning shots flew out of the trees from below. And then he saw them, a great mass of men running and yelling at the top of their lungs as they charged up the ridge toward them. More arrows were shot, some men fell, but many more kept coming and from behind the first wave, Pachout could see a second. He smiled grimly to himself and drew his sword.

  ‘Today might be the day,’ he thought once more and then moved to the front between two stout men with spears ready. They glanced at him; their faces were covered in dirt and mud. Exhaustion was showing round the rims of their eyes. He clapped one on the back and nodded. Then the enemy was on them. The man on Pachout’s right took a sword through the left eye and went down screaming, but the General did not even hear him. With practiced skill, he killed the Knight before him and wounded another before an arrow he did not see coming punched through his flesh then shattered against his right hipbone. Pachout was spun around by the force of the blow and grimaced at the blinding pain. He did not even feel it when the tip of the sword punctured through the back of his neck and out the front. His eyes, however, tracked the bloody blade that stuck out of his throat for a moment then it was brutally twisted and pulled free. Pachout fell to the ground, his blood pouring over the thick layer of fallen leaves. He tried to breath in oxygen, but could not. He tried to rise up but his strength quickly failed him, although somehow he managed to roll over. He stared up past the trees and into the sky. The sun was up, but it had not yet burned away the mist that hung over the battlefield, so the blue sky was lost to him.

  ‘Today was the…’ he thought simply and died. Two hours later the ridge fell; the Toranado army, decimated.

  ǂ

  Gwaynn sat on Eve in the crisp early morning air. Samantha rode happily on Bull on one side and Phillip Toranado rode along on the other. The drovers Gwaynn sent for the herd of horses left back in the Pine Valley had finally returned. And Samantha couldn’t be happier to be back riding on her old horse, even if the animal was large and ungainly.

  Sath and Krys rode directly behind them with Jess na Gall between the two men. Lonogan Bock and Jeffrey Gaston were galloping in the distance heading back to their position after a final assessment of the Deutzani lines of defense around Manse. Gwaynn was nervous. This would be the largest engagement thus far, and it was a very important one. Earlier this morning they’d received word of Pachout’s fall and the defeat of the Toranado at the Mac. If they were to help save Eno, Manse had to be taken…and quickly. Gwaynn was thankful for Phillip and his group of seasoned soldiers. Without them it would have taken the Massi many weeks to gain the strength to meet such a challenge.

  Samantha sat quietly at his side. She’d been unusually subdued since the arrival of the river man, Cobb. Gwaynn felt he knew the reason, that the man brought memories of the Executioner back to her mind, but did not know how to go about making it any better for her. They’d also fought the previous day when Gwaynn suggested she stick closer to him during the fight for Manse.

  “I will not leave my archers!” She answered with a hiss, but with such finality that Gwaynn knew he’d hurt her with the suggestion. The problem was that though he believed the plan to take Manse was a good one, it did leave their flanks dangerously exposed, and the majority of their archers would be guarding the flanks. Still he could see no other way and agreed with Sath’s fundamental strategy.

  Manse was located on the plains below the Plateau, hugging the curve of the river Scar. There was only one main bridge which led across the river, but the Scar was wide and slow through this stretch and there were countless crossable fords in the area, some where the water was only thigh deep at its highest point. In addition, the Scar itself relaxed its grip on the land around Manse as its high cliffs plunged into the earth periodically only to reappear in the distance. There were numerous ways between the Plateau and plains around the Massi city, which to Gwaynn meant numerous dangers. Those dangers seemed heightened to him because of the Deutzani’s chosen deployment.

  Best estimates put the enemy strength at around five or six thousand, but they were spread out all along the easiest egresses to the Plateau. All told the Deutzani covered an area of nearly thirty miles, fifteen on either side of Manse. The city itself was relatively unprotected, but there was a real danger of encirclement if all did not go smoothly. Their battle plan was to hit the city hard with most of their cavalry and all of the Toranado ground troops, and attempt to drive quickly through the town and out the far side. If they succeeded with speed, they would be in a position to threaten the Deutzani rear. If the main thrust of the attack was held up, all would depend on the inexperienced Massi soldiers who would remain up on the Plateau guarding the flanks of the army against a counterattack.

  Bock and Gaston pulled their mounts up sharply as they finally reached Gwaynn.

  “They’ve not brought in their lines,” Bock said breathing heavily. Gwaynn could see steam rising from his horse, though the morning was warm.

  “No change?” Phillip interjected, with a frown on his face.

  Bock shook his head. “They’ve built a picket line just outside of town…it won’t hold against cavalry.”

  Phillip smiled. “They underestimate you,” he said looking at the Massi Prince.

  “Perhaps,” Gwaynn answered, “and I’m sure they don’t yet realize there are seasoned Toranado troops marching with us. Your men are ready?”

  Phillip nodded. “More than ready,” he answered.

  “Assemble the cavalry,” Gwaynn ordered crisply to Bock who nodded and moved off. Gaston was to join Tanner and the men holding the left flank, while Hahn would be in charge of the men on the right…along with Samantha.

  “I must go and prepare,” she said softly, and pulled Bull’s head around to the right. She would leave the large horse in the rear and join the rest of her archers on foot. Bull began to pull away as Gwaynn steered Eve quickly back to join her. He was nervous, both about the battle and about what to say. He was fearful to the point of pan
ic at the thought of losing her, but he was afraid she might take any word of warning the wrong way. So he rode alongside in silence. They reached the rear wagons, containing their supplies, plus a minimum of support personnel. Their wounded and any non-combatant women, children and men, were left back in Colchester.

  Samantha dismounted without looking at Gwaynn and handed the reins to the quartermaster who jumped from his seat on the rear most wagon as he saw Gwaynn approaching. He pulled his cap from his head and bowed to his Prince respectively.

  “Linkon,” Gwaynn said by way of greeting and the man bowed again. Samantha pulled her bow and retrieved her steel pointed spear. She turned and glanced at Gwaynn out of the corner of her eye. His hair was ruffling under a strong early morning breeze as he looked down at her, lines of worry etched clearly on his face. Samantha just wanted to go and join her group. Her stomach was turning over with nervous excitement and fear and she did not want to add to it by thinking about what might happen to either of them. But she knew she could not leave without saying something.

  “Be careful,” was all she managed then glanced up to face him fully and her heart began to thump painfully in her chest. She dropped her spear and moved to him as he sat up high on Eve. She placed a soft hand on his thigh and looked up into his face.

  “You keep your mind on you,” Samantha said with much more bravado than she felt. “I can take care of myself. Don’t become distracted.”

  Gwaynn smiled despite himself. “You sound like the seasoned General now, giving me the advice I should be giving you.”

  She smiled wryly up at him and tapped his leg. “Move your foot.”

  He did so and she, with difficulty, placed a foot in the stirrup and pulled herself up. Eve shifted under the added weight and almost spilled them both. Laughing lightly, she kissed him once quickly and then again harder, with more passion. After a long moment they broke apart and stared at each other from just a foot apart. Eve shifted again and snorted her displeasure, and Samantha started to lower herself, but Gwaynn caught and held her arm.

  “Live!” He said simply and nothing more. He did not know what would become of his soul if she were to die on him now.

  Samantha nodded, but remained silent as she dropped back to the ground and without looking back she picked up her spear, adjusted her quarrel and moved off to the east to join the rest of the men who would be guarding the right flank.

  Gwaynn watched her as she walked away, his heart aching to join her, his body aching to touch her. Eve snorted again and Gwaynn patted her neck, suddenly aware that Linkon was still watching him with his hat in his hand.

  “She’s a brave one Sire,” the man said glancing at the snorting horse and nervously shifting from one foot to the other. Gwaynn patted Eve’s neck once more.

  “She can’t wait to ride into the fight.”

  “I meant M’lady Fultan,” Linkon corrected.

  Gwaynn chuckled. “Her…she’s far braver than I.” He answered then turned his mount around and galloped back to the front of the column, the line of Massi men cheering him as he charged by.

  “Ready?” Phillip asked with a smile, but Gwaynn could hear the impatience in his voice.

  Gwaynn nodded and turned to Jess na Gall. “Stick with Gaston and Tanner,” he told her and she smiled, then she and Gaston rode off to the west together.

  “Let’s go,” Gwaynn said though the column was already on the move, and with a glance at Krys and Afton Sath he turned and began the ride toward Manse.

  ǂ

  The attack came almost exactly as Captain Rethwan, the Deutzani commander expected, however he was shocked to see a Toranado signal flag in the front ranks of the attacking cavalry. He frowned uneasily and looked up the Scar to the west, and then even turned to look north from a top the roof of the three-story hotel near the center of town. He had an excellent vantage point from his position and a moment later, after finding no other Toranado troops in the area began to relax. Perhaps the flags were just a ruse by the Massi, design to frighten and panic the Deutzani command. If that was truly the case, the plan, though clever, failed miserably.

  “The Massi are not attacking the flanks,” Captain Itann said from Rethwan’s side.

  Though Rethwan had complete confidence in his subordinate, he checked the flanks up on the Scar himself and saw that indeed the Massi were massing their reserves to cover the two largest tracks, which led from the plains to the Plateau above. It was not the move he’d hoped the Massi would make, but it was what he would have done in their place.

  “It appears the Massi commander is not completely incompetent,” Rethwan said then moved his attention back to the charge of the Massi cavalry, noticing that it was the group under the Toranado flag that held the centerline. The mounted horses hit his makeshift lines full tilt and immediately blasted a hole through the shield wall. Again it was not what Rethwan hoped for, but he was not surprised. His best men were far from the center lines and the main bridge, but even so he anticipated a bit more resistance.

  “Ready archers!” Itann said loudly, though they were much too far from the lines for any of his commanders to hear him. Nevertheless, they both watched as four lines of archers moved forward to cover the Manse side of the bridge. But instead of massing at the bridge head, once the Massi cavalry were beyond the front picket lines of the Deutzani defense, they immediately fanned out, completely bypassing the bridge and instead moved down the bank toward the river. Behind the cavalry came a mass of heavy troops and Rethwan frowned.

  “Heavy infantry,” he said loudly, only now becoming excited. “Where did they get heavy infantry? I was assured the Massi were a mass of volunteers with little experience.”

  “Sergeant Zasna guaranteed us as much,” Itann answered watching as the horsemen hit the Scar River. It was a bold move which left the cavalry very vulnerable to arrow fire. The river was deeper around the bridge but the current was slow, still its depth would force the horses to swim through the center channel. They watched as the cavalry moved out farther into the river without hesitation. The Massi horsemen were spread over nearly a quarter of a mile on either side of the bridge and this forced the Deutzani archers to also spread out and select individual targets. The Toranado infantry, however, were charging for the far side of the bridge, approaching very rapidly and a good portion of the archers were now concentrating on this new, closer threat. Arrows, however, were far less effective against heavily armored foot troops than they were against light cavalry.

  Rethwan watched for several moments longer, checking the rear of the lines but by now the entire first line of defense had been overrun. He stood impassively as his front line troops fell back and were decimated. How the Massi managed to collect, equip and train heavy infantry was a mystery…unless. Perhaps the Toranado truly had crossed over to assist.

  Without another look at the battle beyond, the Deutzani commander turned. “Fall back,” he said and immediately made for the stairs. They still had time, Toranado or no, to close the trap.

  ǂ

  Eve hit the Scar River at a gallop and pushed and splashed a good twenty feet before the water deepened enough to cause her to slow her pace. Arrows from the far bank began to rain down in the water all around as they made for the deeper part of the river. Gwaynn did not look around for the threats coming at him for there was little he could do to hinder an arrow strike; he just had to trust to providence that he would make it to the far side unscathed. The arrows fell more heavily as Eve entered the deep center channel and Gwaynn was dimly aware of a few that hit their mark around him, striking either horse or man. His full concentration was on remaining in the saddle as Eve pushed her way through the ever-deepening water. When she was forced to swim through the deepest part of the channel Gwaynn helped by dropping down and floating and swimming as best he could above her. Time seemed to slow down, but it was not his doing, time just had a way of doing that when arrows were raining down on you. It felt like hours before Eve once again found her footing
. Gwaynn struggled momentarily to find his seat, but once up he urged her forward. The arrow falls seemed far fewer than earlier, and Gwaynn allowed himself to pull his head up to assess the situation. Bock was riding at his side, his face a mask of concentration as he guided his smaller horse through the water. There was a thin line of archers directly in front of their position but already some Massi cavalry were climbing the far bank. Gwaynn could see now that the Deutzani archers were concentrating their fire on the Toranado troops which were rapidly crossing the bridge.

  It was a mistake, he thought and ducked as an arrow flew closely overhead. As Eve finally made for shallower water he began to spur her to greater speed. Krys was riding his large gray just ahead and to his right, while Prince Phillip was a good way down river to his left, of Master Sath he could see nothing. But then Eve broke free of the river and they pounded toward the remaining archers who stood in their way, but before Gwaynn arrived all of the enemy in his immediate area were overrun and killed.

  “To the bridge!” he and Bock called as one, and the older man smiled at his Prince. Then together they led a large group of horsemen toward the archers still threatening the foot soldiers as they streamed across the bridge. The Deutzani archers collapsed quickly as they were faced with the Massi cavalry from one side and heavy infantry from the other. Only a few were able to retreat into the relative safety of the nearby town.

  Gwaynn barked orders to hold up any pursuit until his forces could re-mass and coordinate another drive forward; thus far the battle was going extremely well.

  ‘Perhaps she will not be threatened,’ he thought then shook his mind away from Samantha as Phillip rode up, smiling broadly.

  “Let us ride through the town quickly,” Phillip said breathing heavily. “My troops can hold the bridge and clear any stragglers behind us.”