by A. C. Cobble
Ben frowned at Amelie and scratched his head.
“I am the Lady of Issen,” she murmured. “Saala, Jason, they’re marching on my people right now. My people. Even if we catch Saala, how can we stop Lord Jason?”
“Amelie,” Ben said, his mind racing. “There’s something you’re missing. If Saala just left Murdoch’s Waystation a few days ago, with an army that size, he’s what, three weeks from Issen? Irrefort is three weeks from Issen as well.”
“We could beat them there,” breathed Rhys, his eyes going wide.
“If we hike fast and don’t stop except when necessary, we can do it,” agreed Ben. “Amelie, if we get you there, will they recognize you?”
“Lord Dronson knows me,” replied Amelie slowly. “He was always loyal to my father and a stickler for protocol. If we can get to him, I think he’ll recognize me and support my claim, but what good will that do us? Issen has an army but not one that can stand against the Alliance or the Coalition. The city would have been weakened under Coalition rule, and my mother would have brought some of its strength as an honor guard to Irrefort for the wedding. Opposing both the Alliance and the Coalition may get everyone inside Issen killed. Even though I am within my rights to rule the city, I won’t force my people to fight a battle we cannot win.”
“Prem,” asked Ben, “can you contact your father and find out where he and our forces are? They were moving east along the highroad. If they can scramble to make Issen before the armies…”
The former guardian nodded, and a far-away look stole into her eyes. They waited a moment while she communicated with her father. Finally, Prem regained focus, and she smiled. “They think they are three weeks from Issen.”
Ben looked to Amelie. “We won’t have nearly as many men as the Alliance or Coalition, but we’ll be on the walls. We’ll have the blademasters and rangers from Venmoor, Jasper’s group of mages, the guardians, and all the recruits from the north they’ve been collecting. It’s a ragtag one, but it’s an army. What do you think?”
“If we only have three weeks,” responded Amelie, “we’d better start walking.”
Feeling exposed, Ben and his friends climbed the hill to Murdoch’s Waystation. The log buildings that made up the complex looked the same as Ben remembered, but on the hills around the place, the grass had been trampled into the dirt. Scores of broken wagons, discarded tents, clothing, abandoned cookfires, and other debris littered every open space for as far as he could see. The smell of rotting food and human waste permeated the air. He was glad they weren’t planning to stay.
They’d decided the risk was worth it to poke their heads into the inn, though. Most of the travelers they passed were heading north, following the army just like they were. They’d been making good time, a small party unencumbered by supplies and gear for war, but they were uncertain how far ahead of them Saala’s forces could be.
If they could get an estimate of how long since the troops had left, they’d know when it was best to strike out across country so they could skirt around the main force. The Alliance had no reason to want to detain them, but there was no sense risking a confrontation either.
With the new information about Issen’s potential independence, they decided they wouldn’t attempt to meet Saala directly until they’d made it into the city, linked up with their own forces, and could negotiate from a position of strength. They also had Jason’s men to worry about. If they could show the Alliance and the Coalition there was nothing to be gained from the war, then maybe the armies would both turn back. Tactically, fighting on two fronts, with one of those groups behind the high walls of Issen, was a terrible idea. Saala and Jason were both savvy enough commanders to see that. Ben hoped they would agree to a peaceful solution.
“Are we sure this is a good idea?” questioned Prem, glancing at the handful of ragged figures who were picking their way through the fields of refuse outside of the waystation.
“Camp followers,” said Rhys. “Desperate men and women who don’t feel they have any other options. Once the fighting starts, there will be more of them.”
“Let’s go in and get something to eat. Then, we’ll be on our way,” suggested Ben. “It’s worth a short pause if we learn any news.”
“And if they have any ale left,” agreed Rhys.
Ben ignored the rogue and led the way up the creaky, wooden steps to the tavern. The last time he’d been there, a group of wagon guards had been playing a rough game involving leaping an open fire and drinking. His sister Meghan had been assaulted by one of them. Now, the place was almost empty, just a dozen men clustered together in one corner.
The first time they’d been in the waystation, Ben had been excited about the adventure ahead of him and nervous about the dangers that lurked in the world. Now, he knew more about those dangers than he ever could have imagined, but he wasn’t nervous about what he’d find in the tavern. Drunk wagon guards, thieves, those were simple problems.
A tired-looking serving woman wordlessly gestured to a table, and Rhys asked, “Any ale, or did the army drink it all?”
“They did,” replied the woman, “but we got more yesterday. Couple barrels from one’a tha mountain towns. Fresh livestock too. Goat on tha spit and potatoes on the boil if that suits ya.”
“Good enough. Bring a couple of pitchers of that ale, please.” Turning to the group, the rogue grinned. “Fresh ale.”
Since Fabrizo, they hadn’t found a place that still had drink. The soldiers had bought up every drop on their march north. Rhys had not taken it well.
A short time later, the serving woman plonked down empty tankards and full pitchers. Rhys greedily filled his tankard and then settled back in his chair, taking a long sip.
“This is good!” he exclaimed. “Almost as good as the stuff you used to brew, Ben.”
Ben tried his, the familiar mix of hops and barley rolling over his tongue.
“It does taste like mine,” he murmured. He leaned to the side, looking around Rhys.
“Best ale I’ve had since we left the City, however many months ago that was,” announced Rhys, pouring himself another mug.
Ben stood and walked around their table, heading for the group in the corner. Behind him, he heard Rhys asking where he was going, but he didn’t pause to answer.
“Brandon, Serrot?”
“Ben!” shouted a familiar voice, and all of a sudden, the group was scrambling, leaping up from chairs and knocking over drinks in their rush to smother Ben in hugs.
It was overwhelming, the press of flesh, the frantic questions and excitement. It took a bit, but he finally extracted himself and glanced over his friends. They were only a year older, but it appeared they’d been through a lot in that year. He supposed he might look the same, and their eyes confirmed it.
“Ben, it’s been so long,” said Brandon, his step-brother. “When we got the letter from Meghan, we thought you’d be gone for good. You’d started a brewery in the City, she’d said. We could barely believe it!”
“I was a brewer there, for a while,” acknowledged Ben.
“It didn’t work out?” asked his old friend Serrot. “Your brewery is still going strong in Farview, Ben. Better than ever, thanks to all of those soldiers who were camped here. I’ve been maintaining it, brewing the ale with your recipes. The last few months I’ve been making more coin than I know what to do with! There have been more soldiers in the region than there are barrels of ale. I’ll give you your cut, of course, and you can take back over whenever you’re ready, Ben. I enjoy the coin it brings, but I don’t have a flair for brewing like you do. Also, we’ve been… we’ve been busy with some other things.”
“Demons,” confirmed Brandon. “Ever since that first one, they’ve been coming, more and more of them. The last two months, though, it’s finally started to slow down. Wherever they were coming from has been closed off or something. No one knows how they get here, least, no one in Farview. How… what happened in the City, Ben? We haven’t heard from M
eghan in so long. Is she here, too?”
Ben grimaced. “Maybe it’s best we sit down, Brandon.”
“We’ll buy you an ale,” replied his step-brother, trying to make it a cheerful reunion and avoiding the look he must have seen in Ben’s eye.
Ben glanced back at his friends. Amelie waved him to stay, so he settled down at the table. Brandon, Serrot, Blevin Beerman, and several others he recognized huddled around him.
“Meghan,” he began. He paused and met Brandon’s eyes. “Meghan passed away, Brandon.”
His brother’s smile faded. “How?”
Ben scratched at the scar on his arm, thinking of what he should say. “She died in Northport. There were demons there. The entire city was overrun.”
“Northport…” murmured Brandon, struggling to comprehend that his sister was dead and that she’d died in a place so far away. “You say it was overrun, but are you sure she didn’t escape? She was always a fighter.”
Ben winced. “I-I saw the body, Brandon.”
His brother shook his head. “We’d hoped… We’d hoped that as bad as it was here, maybe it was better elsewhere in the world. I thought the Sanctuary might be safe, but a mage, huh? I guess she was out there on the front lines, battling those things just like we were. She always wanted to do what was right, and was willing to fight for it. You remember that, don’t you?”
Ben rubbed the back of his hand across his lips and then responded, “She fought until the end, doing what she thought was best.”
Brandon raised his ale mug. “That’s something we can be proud of. To our sister.”
Ben lifted his mug as well and thumped it against Brandon’s. “To our sister.”
The rest of the men murmured kind words.
Brandon leaned closer to Ben. “Alistair passed as well, some months ago. The house is there, and it’s empty with just me in it. There’s room for you, Ben, if you want to stay with me. I know we didn’t always see eye to eye, but it’s important to look out for your family. I understand that now, more than I ever did before. Before the demons, you know?”
“I do,” agreed Ben. “I appreciate the offer, Brandon, but I’m not going home. Not yet.”
“What are you doing here, Ben?” asked Serrot.
Ben turned to his friend. “Just passing through. We thought we’d stop in and get whatever news is available.”
Serrot glanced at Ben’s companions, frowning as if he vaguely recognized them.
Ben spoke before he could comment. “We’re going to Issen.”
“Issen!” exclaimed Brandon. “Ben, no! There’s to be a war there. The Alliance is marching to meet the Coalition. I don’t right understand what the fight is about, but it’s clear as spring water there is going to be a fight. Representatives from the Alliance have been all over Farview trying to gain support. Coin, recruits, food, whatever they can get. We’ve had to run more than one of them out of town. Believe me, Ben, you don’t want any part of this. There is no glory in war, only death. We’ve seen plenty of that, and I suspect you have, too.”
“I’m not going to fight in the war,” assured Ben.
“Why would you go anywhere near that place, then?” questioned Brandon.
Ben sipped his ale, unsure how he could explain their intentions or whether he should even try.
“Is that the same highborn lady you left Farview with?” asked Serrot, looking back at Ben’s companions.
“It is,” confirmed Ben.
“And the rogue,” said Serrot, nodding to himself. “It was those two, a blademaster, a mage, and another lady, wasn’t it?”
“Something like that,” agreed Ben.
“What have they gotten you into, Ben?” pressed Brandon. “Whatever it is, you’ve got a place at home, and we’ve got a need of you.”
“Other people need me to,” said Ben. He glanced between his brother and his friend. Finally, he decided to tell them. “We’re going to try and stop the war if we can.”
Both men blinked back at him, not comprehending.
“I want to tell you something, but it has to be secret.”
“We won’t tell anyone,” agreed Brandon.
Ben gave Blevin and the other Farview men an apologetic look. “Very secret.”
“Boys,” asked Brandon, “give us a moment, will you?”
Grumbling, the men gathered their drinks and relocated to another table across the room.
“They’ll be a little grouchy tonight, but I’ll buy them a few rounds to sort them out,” said Brandon. “Easiest way to keep the troops happy, I’ve found. Get a little ale in them, have them sing a song and twirl a strange girl around the dance floor, and they feel like they’re the king of the world.”
“The troops?” asked Ben.
Serrot broke in, “Brandon’s organized the men in Farview into a militia, and a lot of them from the other towns, too. We had to – to face the demons.”
Ben nodded to Brandon. “A leader, huh? I always knew you had it in you.”
“You do, too,” said Brandon. “You’d do the same thing if you were in the same situation. Now, Ben, what is so secret you can’t even tell Blevin? Why are you going to Issen?”
“The girl, the highborn one,” said Ben, speaking slowly, struggling to figure out what to say to his friends. “She’s a lady of Issen, an important one. If I can get her there before the armies arrive, then maybe we can stop this.”
“A highborn lady of Issen,” said Serrot, looking back at Amelie with appreciation.
“Highborn is one thing, Ben,” advised Brandon, “but these generals are serious men. They’re marching with hundreds of thousands under their banners. They’re not going to turn back just because one lady says so. You don’t know what kind of people these are. They’re not like us.”
“I do know what kind of people they are,” replied Ben.
“You do?” asked Brandon, sitting back, a dubious expression on his face.
“I’ve met them both,” said Ben quietly. “King Saala is the blademaster I left Farview with. I crossed swords with Lord Jason in Irrefort, and he’s married to Lady Amelie’s mother.”
“Lady Amelie,” said Serrot, working the name on his tongue, his eyes still locked on her. “Lady Amelie… I know that name.”
“I don’t,” muttered Brandon. “You’re saying Lord Jason married that girl’s mother?”
“Lady Amelie is the daughter of Lord Gregor and Lady Selene,” said Serrot, lost in thought. “They ruled Issen, didn’t they? Wait. Ben…”
Brandon frowned at Serrot, not understanding. Even with it spelled out, he couldn’t grasp what Serrot had realized. It was too far away from his life to make any sense.
“The soldiers said something about a stripped title, the rightful heir… It’s her, isn’t it, the heir to Issen?” asked Serrot, his voice barely above a whisper. “The soldiers said she was missing.”
“Now you know why I can’t go home,” said Ben. “By Issen law, she’s the Lady of Issen. She and I both have met King Saala and Lord Jason face to face. If we get her into the city, and she’s able to take command, there’s a chance we can stop this before thousands die, before lives are wasted and for what? A bit of land, a chance to wear a crown? It’s not going to be easy, but we have to try.”
“You’ll need more than the rogue,” said Brandon, now studying Ben’s friends.
“I have men,” said Ben. He rubbed a hand across his face and drank his ale. “I’ve got a lot of men. Talented men and women. The type of people who could help us pull this off.”
“You’ve got one more,” asserted Serrot. “Me.”
“What?” exclaimed Brandon.
“I’m going with you, Ben,” declared the woodsman.
Ben grinned at him. “Serrot, it’s going to be dangerous. Really dangerous. You’ve got Farview, the brewery…”
“I’m going,” insisted Serrot. “We’ve beat back the demons, we think, and Brandon’s got that in hand. The brewery, well, I’ll happil
y trade that for a chance at adventure. Blevin or one of the others can take over for me. Ben, when you left, I thought every night about what you were doing. I wished I had left with you, and cursed myself that I’d missed out. Now, you’re traveling with the Lady of Issen, you tell me you personally know a king, and you crossed blades with the leader of the Coalition? There’s no way I’m staying in this tavern while you go off again. Not this time.”
Ben shook his head. “It’s not all glory out there, Serrot. I’ve been through some pretty awful times. I’ve been battered to the point I didn’t think I’d live – more than once. I’ve had friends die. I’ve seen things that will give me nightmares for the rest of my life.”
“I’m going.”
Ben sat a moment, thinking before responding. Finally, he smiled. “If I can’t talk you out of it, then you’re welcome to come. I’ll warn you, though, I’m not overstating the danger. We may not survive this, Serrot.”
A grin cracking his lips, Ben’s old friend lifted his ale. “Ben, I believe you mean that about the danger, but if you’re willing to risk your life on it, then so am I. There’s not a thing you’ll say to make me change my mind.”
Ben raised his mug as well, “It’ll be good to have you with us, then.”
“What do you think, Brandon?” asked Serrot.
Brandon crossed his arms and sat back. “I-I don’t think I can leave Farview. We haven’t seen a demon in a month, but they could come back. There’s worry about what the soldiers will do after the war. There’s rebuilding to do, disputes to settle… They’re counting on me, now.”
“You’re a good man,” said Serrot.
“Damn I wish I could go, though!” said Brandon, slapping a hand on the table. “You’ve got to tell me about it, Ben, everything you’ve been up to, and bring your friends over. I’ll buy the ale if they fill me in on the details you’re too modest to admit!”