by James Wymore
Richard said, "Then they must be destroyed."
"You know we cannot match them on the water. My own father, Richard the tenth, spent decades trying to engineer boats they could not overrun. We have never once succeeded in a naval attack or defense against them. They can't live far up on the land. They have no use for the land we live on. We just don't know why they want to kill us."
"It doesn't matter. What matters, is that our people will never be safe as long as they continue to harry us. They have found some way to move the borders up. We must take the battle to them, or they will never stop."
"Command the armies as you will, but I forbid you to join them."
"And how will you stop me? You intend to put your own son in prison?"
Richard nodded to himself, eyes still shut. He had responded poorly. In the heat of the argument, he'd marched out. The memories were getting darker as they grew closer to the present. When fully awake these memories would have disturbed him.
Instead, he noticed strange sounds and smells.
There was a commotion in the distance. He could hear it through the windows. Not enough to make out the sounds, but something his mind wanted to investigate.
At the same time, he could not place the strange smells. Besides the constant scent of a large fire, his chambers always smelled like fresh linens and mint. He sensed none of that now. He smelled musty animal skins and tar. There was the hint of a fire, but it was distant and carried the overtones of soup.
Prince Richard's eyes popped open and he turned quickly toward the tall line of illumination. The air bit his exposed body with an icy chill. There were no velvet curtains. He was not on a tall four-poster bed beneath silk and quilts. He was in an oil treated tent, beneath animal skins.
Jewel opened the tent flap. Her face, smudged with ash on one cheek, lit up at the sight of him. "You're awake!" She almost squealed. Then her head tipped and the smile slowly faded. "What's wrong?"
The prince took a deep breath and it caught in his throat as the last few months crashed into his mind like a battering ram shattering the gate into splinters. One second later, he wished Jewel did not have the folk magic, which let her feel the horror he had kept off his face.
"Elwood?" she said, bringing one hand in front of her mouth, unsure if she should cry.
"Please, come in," he said. His voice changed. He heard in his own voice the undoubting hint of one who never asked, only ordered.
She dropped the flap behind her, self-consciously fixing her hair and clothes. "You remembered."
Elwood nodded. He hated the change in her voice. His Jewel, always so confident and in control, now doubted herself. He didn't need her folk magic to know what she was thinking. He knew she needed him to take her now and reassure her that everything was going to be okay. He just needed time to adjust to everything himself. He had to think.
Jewel sat with her back straight and her hands folded in her lap, as if waiting for a judge to pass sentence.
Elwood wagged his head. He reached over and wiped the smudge of ash on her cheek. "I swore my oath to you was higher than all others," he said warmly. "That hasn't changed."
A tear fell from each of her eyes as he pulled her close and kissed her. She tumbled to the blanket-covered snow, still unable to stop sobbing. He pulled her close, tossing the blankets over her. Her coat was cold against his thin undergarments, but he didn't move away.
They stayed that way a long time. Richard refused to think. He didn't want to dig into the memories and find any doubt of his love for Jewel. She didn't deserve to feel that from him now, and he would not entertain any such notions. Whatever he'd been before, he would not let it ruin what they had now. He would disavow all of Sel before he let the tiniest splinter divide him from her.
Eventually Jewel wiped away her tears. He felt her taking deep breaths beside him. "Your magic has changed," she said. "It's no longer a dark red locked away in your heart and mind."
"What does it look like now?" he asked.
"Yellow and orange fire," she said. Then she closed her eyes and leaned her head against his shoulder.
"I trained at the magical seminary," he said. "I'm a Selest High Priest."
"Selest High Priest? Not Selene? What's that, some kind of wizard?"
"No," he laughed. His Schoolmaster would have laughed, too. "It's largely a ceremonial title. The magical seminary of Sel gets a special designation."
"But you have magic?"
"Yes," he said.
"I've never seen anything like it. What can you do with it?"
"Honestly, not much. I never put much effort into it. Like all magic, it's based on relationships. My magic flows from my position as a prince. It's fueled by loyalty and leadership, just as yours is powered by your bonds to family and the community."
"But you're the prince all the time," she said. "Shouldn't you automatically have it?"
"If I act like a prince, yes."
"You'll always be my prince." She gently placed one hand behind his neck, brushing the nape.
Richard stroked her shoulder. "It's not that simple. I wasn't a good prince. I spent all my time studying swordplay and sneaking off to fight in the battles. I left the burden of rule on my parents, instead of helping them. I studied war instead of politics. My magic suffered for it, along with my family."
Jewel pulled on the leather thong, freeing the ring tucked into her coat. She traced the silver sun crest over the gem with her finger. "Do you need it back now?"
"No," he said.
"But it's magical," she said. "I can see it glowing."
"Everybody in the Selene seminary studies the same magic. It's the magic of fire. The ring doesn't help with it. It's more like a ceremonial key."
Jewel dropped it and looked in his eyes. "I want to hear everything," she said.
"There is so much to tell." Richard couldn't keep a smile from his face. Her eyes were bright and wide and searing a line of connection into his. It was his turn to take a deep breath now, grateful she still carried the same intensity for him.
"We don't have time." Jewel wiped her cheeks again. "The Hyzoi are attacking as we speak. The soldiers can't hold them. The wall will not last long."
Wrinkles knit across Prince Richard's brow. "How long have I been asleep?"
"Almost a day," she said. "Bowen brought you back and said you were hit by one of the bombs. They've been holding the wall, running the catapults non-stop. They even pushed out some of the small herd of goats we kept back. But the monsters are many, and much more prepared. They have water spraying all over the wall. They have a trench of it beyond the arrows where they rest. And they are slowly digging it forward, planning to tunnel under the wall again, and bring the water with them. The trench is deep enough that our arrows can't hit them while they are under the water."
The prince grabbed his clothes and pulled them on beneath the furs. "I have to get out there."
"No," Jewel said, holding his arm. "You just woke up. You need to rest."
"No time," he said. "We have to get out of Winigh. Did Bowen tell you if the bombs cleared the road?"
"He said it was still covered with snow." Jewel turned away, sobbing again.
The prince reached around and held her belly. It was only barely showing, but he couldn't tell beneath her heavy coat. "You were right," he said. "It would have been a terrible waste to wait any longer for our wedding. Now that I have my memories back, I know what I always felt. The time with you has been the best of my life."
She turned to face him, smiling as best she could. "So what do I call you? What is your name?"
"I am Richard Deison the twelfth, son of King Deison, crowned Prince of Sel, Selest High Priest, and High Commander of the Selene army." He said it with an air of exhaustion, as if reciting papers of state.
Jewel's eyes went wide and then dropped, as if bowing. "Your Highness," she said softly.
He lifted her chin and waited a long time for her eyes to look up again. "But you must onl
y ever call me Elwood. In fact, I'm going to add it to my list of titles when I get back. Elwood of Winigh. And I will insist all the people of Winigh call me nothing else."
She searched his eyes, trying to grasp the words she couldn't believe. "I can't call you that," she said. "What if people heard? And don't you have to marry somebody important before you can be King?"
Elwood kissed her. "Sel has no enemies among humans. And I was never willing to consider marrying a Hyzoi. If we make it out of this war alive, you will be the Queen of Sel someday."
Jewel wagged her head. "I can't even believe it. Does that mean I'm a princess now?"
"No. But it's really just a formality. I'm sure my father will give you some honorary title or other… once he gets over the shock. Duchess of Winigh comes to mind."
"He won't like me?"
"He'll love you. He just will never believe I actually married. It's been a sore spot between us for a long time."
"This is all so wonderful and unbelievable."
His face turned dark. "Well, it won't make any difference if the Hyzoi kill us all."
Chapter Thirty-One
Richard shadowed his eyes with his hand to give them time to adjust to the bright sunlight. He could hear the snow melting around them and the stream they diverted trying to exceed the trench. Wind blowing up the side of the cliffs to the west carried a fine mist of water to him on a chilly breeze.
He didn't rush as he walked toward the wall. The sound of weapons clinking off hard skin and men yelling over the battle growls of Hyzoi carried to him. He saw half a dozen streams of water spraying up over the wall in every direction. As he approached, he saw a jet of water spring up under the wall and several Hyzoi digging through the soggy ground. Vince ordered one of the large boulders rolled in to crush them and fill the hole.
The prince knew this wall was doomed. With the water pumping under it, the Hyzoi could dig the whole wall down, if they didn't get a defendable tunnel first. The soldiers were saving their arrows for Hyzoi jumping off the ground. The others they hacked at when they jumped over the top. Spears carried many of the crusted bodies over to the other side where teams could attack them, but the ones landing on the platform were causing great casualties among the people of Winigh. Richard saw they had about fifty soldiers left. It was the bare minimum to hold the barrier. The Hyzoi would easily wear their numbers down. Any fewer, and their casualties would begin to soar dramatically.
Now he remembered all the military strategy classes, miniature soldier models, and tactical discussions he'd had with his tutors and his father since he was old enough to talk. He knew they would lose the wall now, just as surely as he had lost so many games just like this.
He had never entrusted his back-up plan to the soldiers of Winigh. Now, he knew he had no choice. He turned and marched back to Jewel. Her eyes met him as she pulled a plank with two loaves of bread out of the makeshift oven. He still saw concern in them over her place with him.
He said, "Take everybody and everything you can, and get back up the road. I'm calling the retreat."
Jewel alone knew his plans if the battle went badly. It filled her with fear, but she nodded. She immediately turned to the girls assigned to help her and said, "Start gathering the cooked food into the wagon."
Richard turned and began moving quickly toward the wall. He would give Jewel just a few minutes before he called the retreat. After so much beating, he could hear the wall creaking in places now. It had served them well. It just couldn't take much more. Elwood saw there were four main groups of about a dozen each. Three of them were on the platform, in key places, and one on the ground. As he approached he used his sword to salute, drawing attention and a few cheers from those not involved with fighting at the moment.
"Vince! Drake! Bowen!" he called. Then he signaled the red-bearded man from the east end of the wall. They left their groups and rushed to join him. Their eyes had changed. They were no longer farmers and ranchers. These men had seen the horror of war and refused to turn away. Before him now, he saw true soldiers. They knew their current plight was hopeless. Yet, with no other choice, they determined to fight to their last breath. Their grim faces looked to him for a beacon of hope. If there was any way to turn this battle, they knew he alone possessed the knowledge.
"The wall is lost," Richard said. "It will not last another night."
They nodded, the glimmer of hope fading from their visages. "What else can we do?" Vince asked. Bowen and Drake turned away, having seen the bombs fail to open the path of their escape.
"It's time to change tactics." Richard pointed with his wickedly curved sword to the trees along the path back to Aunt Lanny's homestead. "We retreat to those trees. They are creatures of the water. We are men of the woods. In the forest, we have the advantage of stealth. We spread out and hide and climb. When they pass our hidden places, we cut them down. When they jump to pull us from the trees, we shoot them with arrows. They can't climb well. So we keep moving back up the hill, where they are slow to progress. As they follow us up, we cut them down one at a time."
Everybody nodded. "What about the children?" Drake asked.
"They are moving as we speak. I rigged the bridges along the road to explode. So we draw the Hyzoi up the path. We kill as many as we can when they are on the bridges. They will be able to cross in the forest hills above the path, but we will be hiding there to wage guerrilla warfare. It will take them time to advance their water positions, because the stream is too far below for their hoses to reach this far."
"Should we stop diverting the stream so the water isn't as close to the path?" Bowen asked.
"It's not worth the effort," Richard said. "The bridges are our only hope. Even with water near the base of the hill, the trees will keep them from projecting it far. When you tell the fighters the plan, tell them to work in pairs among the trees, but never be close together. When the Hyzoi notice one and come to attack, the other surprises from behind. Our only hope now is to spread the enemy thin, and cut them down one at a time."
Everybody nodded, just happy to have any kind of a plan. Richard gave one last direction. "If the Hyzoi overrun the forest, we retreat back to the largest building of the homestead. That is where Jewel is taking the young children and old women. If we have to, we will make our last stand there."
After joining the wall and cutting down several Hyzoi, Richard knew he could not give Jewel any more time. He called, "Off the wall! Back to the hills!"
A last volley from three catapults soared over their heads and crashed into the ravening hoard of Hyzoi. There were over a hundred of them spread out in the north part of the meadow, wallowing in muddy trenches and blasting icy water in every direction with their infernal fish pumps.
The wall quickly emptied, the soldiers having spread the word of what to do when they heard the new orders. Richard tried to hold the wall as the others went down but, true to Jewel's prediction, there were many who refused to leave before him. He finally rushed down the ladder and began to run toward the path. The men followed him. In a matter of seconds, Hyzoi were leaping up onto the platform. When they found it undefended, they croaked out the all clear and dozens joined them immediately after. New tunnels burst out beneath the wall. Water jets all turned their focus to the south side of the overrun barrier.
The men and women of Winigh followed Richard down the valley, and then bottle-necked as they began up the path. "Stay on the path until we blow the bridge!" Richard yelled. They let him stand to the side as they rushed up the muddy road and across the first wooden platform, spanning forty feet between the meadow and a jutting parapet of rock. Bowen and Drake joined Richard at the back of the group, herding men now as they used to herd goats, with little corrections and unending patience.
When they had all crossed the first bridge, they rushed along the rock trail another hundred yards, to a longer bridge of sixty feet. By now, many of the exhausted soldiers were winded and they marched, rather than ran across the wooden planks.
"Run!" Bowen pleaded. The group redoubled their efforts, thundering across wet wooden supports. Few even bothered to look back at the fastpaced Hyzoi, rapidly closing the distance behind them.
When they all came off the second bridge, Richard pointed to Drake and sent him to the fuses with a lamp. "Wait for my order. I want twenty of them on this side before we blow it!"
The soldiers of Winigh, gasping for breath, fanned out to give themselves room to receive the oncoming monsters.
The faster reptiles sprinted as a group, crashing toward the waiting people with the confidence of an army not only stronger, but superior in numbers. The only glory left was for the fastest who reached their prey in time to take many more than their slower comrades did. However, this new group had not seen the traps the first group had. So they took no precautions, cramming onto the brides as tight as they could. When a dozen of them burst from the narrower bridge and onto the wider path, Richard yelled, "Now, Drake!"
Drake lit the fuses, rushing away from the forward position to avoid certain death at the hand of the oncoming wave of enemies.
Richard dropped beneath the charge of the first Hyzoi, slicing into the plates over its guts and rolling free in a quick motion. As the monsters made their final leap toward the exposed defenders, dozens of arrows flew out, bringing down most of the first wave.
When Richard stood, he knew something had gone wrong. The explosion never came. The enemy was pouring off the bridges intact.