The Falcon in the Barn (Book 4 Forest at the Edge series)

by Trish Mercer

  “I smell sulfur, but there are no hotpots around here!” Perrin yelled. “Briter didn’t say any were in the village.”

  “This wasn’t natural, Colonel. We think they were making something they can explode themselves. It’s already blown twice. Rigoff and I just evacuated all the soldiers then you two come barging in here—” By now Shem had dragged them to their horses.

  Brillen and Perrin snatched the reins of their animals who reared and whinnied in terror, and ran from the smoking pit toward the end of the road where several soldiers waited for them. But Perrin kept turning back to see the fire, trying to imagine the large building that used to be there and realizing that the structure laid in charred pieces all around him.

  At end of the road his jog was interrupted by the shout of, “You’re in a lot of trouble, Colonel Shin.”

  Perrin shrugged guiltily at Major Yordin. “You try staying away from that,” he retorted as he mounted his horse, Karna and Zenos following him.

  Grinning, Yordin leaned over from his mount and slapped Perrin on the back. “But I’m glad you’re here. This will be our little secret.” He glanced at the two young officers with him who nodded in agreement. “We need to head to the north,” Yordin told Perrin. “A mass of Guarders were seen running toward the forest there. We’ve already dispatched a couple hundred men to chase them. All seems clear here. The explosions took care of most of it for us.”

  The officers rode at a fast gallop through the quiet road to the forest’s edge, passing several groups of soldiers on foot entering buildings to look for holdouts.

  Perrin grumbling in frustration. It wasn’t supposed to be this messy. It was supposed to be swift, decisive, and humane, although they didn’t deserve that. The Guarders should have been eliminated by now. It all should have happened within minutes, with all Guarders summarily executed . . .

  But this was sheer chaos.

  Good thing the commander of the offensive showed up.

  Within moments Perrin and his men came upon a broad field that stood as Moorland’s buffer between the village and the forest.

  And that’s when Perrin’s heart caught in his throat.

  Well over one hundred soldiers were on foot, battling just as many Guarders in black who were bafflingly armed with swords.

  And, for half a second, Perrin hesitated.

  While the men on horseback with him veered off to various parts of the field to render assistance, Perrin took in—for one horrible moment—the scope of the battle. The blades. The blood. The men in black. The men in blue. The running horses. The clanging steel. The blood. The fire spreading to the tops of the trees illuminating far too much of the field before Perrin, as if it were day. Bodies running. Bodies falling. Bodies bloodied—

  Something in his chest clenched and shuddered, and he fought the urge to grab his chest in terror.

  Because then Perrin knew what he needed to do. He grasped the ornate filling-gree hilt of General Shin’s sword—the one that had been waiting years to be initiated—and everything in Perrin’s world slowed down as if completely in his control.

  Which, right now, it was.

  Instinct took over as he drew the general’s sword. Its balance was perfect, the blade sharp and eager. Perrin kicked his mount and headed for a cluster of Guarders rushing a small group of soldiers. He overtook his soldiers and held out his father’s sword. A familiar rush of energy filled him as he turned the tip slightly and steadied his arm. The targets hurried to meet the blade, and it connected once, twice. He heard the unmistakable thud of bodies falling behind him and swung his horse back around for another pass, taking out two more men as his soldiers engaged the remaining three.

  “Shin?!” he heard one of them call as he rode toward the trees and to another knot of Guarders slipping out of the forest. They ran straight for him. He cut his horse hard to the left, catching the furthermost Guarder with a slash across his throat, then dodged to the right to hit two more Guarders from behind. Three Guarders scattered before him, so he aimed his horse at the closest one and flattened him, while his two companions found themselves surrounded by more men in blue. Shin faced the forest again but saw no more bodies running to meet his father’s blade.

  ---

  “No one said anything about the army attacking!” one man in black whimpered as he huffed his way into the forest. “Bad enough we live in rubble and trees, but now the army—”

  “Shut up!” his companion hissed at him, although the complainer was simply stating what all ten in their group was thinking as they ran, panicked, into the forest. This wasn’t what they signed up for. And where was the gold?

  “We’ll hide in here until the army gives up, then—”

  As if hitting an invisible wall, the retreating men stopped, stunned.

  Actually, they’d hit a line of what seemed to be trees but which abruptly thrust out arms and hit the men, dropping them into the dried leaves. They barely had time to shake off their astonishment to comprehend that they were now surrounded by men in green and brown mottled clothing. Dozens of them.

  And that they were holding long knives.

  “You’re not hiding anywhere,” rumbled one of them, a massive brute of a man if not actually a bear in a tunic and trousers. “Two options: go back out there and fight like . . . well, not sure if you’d know how real men fight, but you can pretend. Or, you stay in here with my friends and me.” He shifted his grip on the long knife.

  Another man in green and brown spoke up, his words coming from somewhere behind the leaves that made up his hat. “Really the only option is, by whose hands do you wish to die?”

  One of the men in black looked frantically from one camouflaged face to another. “Who are you?! Where’d you come from?”

  The bear-man shrugged. “Looks like you’ll die here, and with a lot of unanswered questions.”

  ---

  Perrin swiveled in his saddle to identify a new target.

  Zenos had just leveled a Guarder, and by the ungainly way he fell Perrin knew he was dead. Shem was already engaging another Guarder and likely didn’t notice his efficiency. Just beyond Shem, Perrin saw a young officer on foot, his sword clashing furiously with his opponent. He stepped awkwardly under the pressure of the more experienced man, who stumbled momentarily in his pursuit.

  Perrin kicked his horse and headed for the officer who hadn’t noticed another Guarder creeping up behind him. Perrin aimed for that Guarder and rushed past the stunned figure of Lemuel Thorne.

  “Colonel?!”

  “Eyes forward, Captain!” Perrin ordered as he took out the Guarder behind Thorne, his now-lifeless body dropping.

  Lemuel turned abruptly to see that the first Guarder had found his footing and was about to run him through. Thorne dodged out of the way, but the Guarder’s sword still caught him across his side. Thorne collapsed to the ground as Perrin cut his horse to the right and came upon the remaining Guarder. As the stallion leaped over the prone body of Thorne, Perrin leaned off to the side and ran through Thorne’s other Guarder who crumpled next to Lemuel.

  Perrin came back around to see the young captain gasping and holding his side, his hand drenched in blood, and his terrified gaze fixed on the dead man in black who lay nearly on top of him. Lemuel stared up at Colonel Shin with awestruck surprise.

  “Stay down,” he commanded. “I’ll be back for you.”

  Thorne nodded wearily and let his head fall to the ground, but through the slits in his half-closed eyes he watched the colonel.

  Perrin swung back to the field, satisfied that there were fewer men in black among the growing crowd of blue soldiers. But some of those Guarders were becoming brasher in their panic, and one had acquired a horse. That man was Perrin’s.

  The Guarder was intent on reaching Gari Yordin who was already battling two men so he wasn’t aware of a third galloping up behind him.

  Perrin roared to get his attention. The Guarder, just a few paces from Yordin, yanked his horse around to fac
e Perrin instead. He charged, but Perrin darted his horse just out of his reach. He turned sharply to come behind the Guarder, slashed him across his back, and felt the old scar on his own back itch in approval. The wound Perrin inflicted, however, was incurable, and the Guarder tumbled off the trotting horse. Confident that there was one less threat in the world, Perrin spun to help Gari.

  He caught up to him just as Gari received a deep swipe along his sword arm, and he dropped his weapon with a shout. Perrin rode to his right to catch the two Guarders between them. With a quick slash and another swipe, the Guarders fell lifeless to the ground.

  Perrin rounded again, his father’s sword vibrating in his steady grip and ready for more exercise. But as he searched for a new target, there were no more men in dark clothing standing. Instead, only soldiers in blue remained upright, scanning the area cautiously, their swords and long knives at the ready. Guarder bodies—as well as a few groaning men in blue—littered the field.

  Perrin spun to look into the blazing forest, but nothing more came running out of the smoke-filled woods.

  He squinted into the shadows which danced erratically in the glow cast by the nearing fire, because he thought he saw something—some one—standing just behind a tree. If someone was there, they wouldn’t be for long. Perrin squinted harder, just to be sure, but when the smoke obscured his view, he gave up. The fire would either flush him out or consume him.

  Facing the field again, Perrin did a quick head count. Dozens of soldiers were down, along with Thorne, but the majority were standing, panting, and now daring to smile at each other.

  Perrin spied Gari Yordin holding his bleeding arm, still on his horse. A soldier on foot was straining to bind the major’s wound, but Yordin caught Perrin’s eye and grinned.

  Hoof beats came up fast to Perrin’s side. He glanced at Shem and Brillen, then did a startled second look. Brillen was bleeding from his leg, his eyes were filled with pain, yet he too was smiling.

  But Shem was pensive, studying Perrin and trying to read his mood. Perrin returned the gaze, hoping Shem would recognize that he was as firm and strong as ever, but he noticed the doubtful expression in his friend’s eyes. Their staring contest was interrupted by a triumphant roar.

  Naturally, it was Gari. “If you won’t declare it, then I will, Colonel: the night is ours!”

  The men cheered and Perrin finally smiled as well. “Only on this field, Yordin,” he said, trying to calm his own growing enthusiasm.

  Guarder bodies were everywhere, more than he’d expected. Probably over one hundred in the field alone, and they’d passed dozens on the way. It was an infestation, and they had arrived just in time. His chest burned with the desire to roar back. Not only had they succeeded, he was still feeling as whole and solid as a boulder.

  But it wasn’t the commander’s place to act like a relieved first year soldier. The offensive wasn’t over just yet.

  “We need thirty men to stay here and to bring the injured back to the staging area,” he gestured to the field. “The rest of you will finish going through the houses, then meet back at the old fort at the front of village for new orders. I’ll oversee removing the wounded here. Zenos, you appeared uninjured. You can relieve Yordin.”

  “No, he won’t,” Gari said cheerfully as he slipped off his horse to allow the soldier to properly wrap his gash. “But he can ride by my side. I’m not going back yet!”

  Perrin eyed him. “You’re losing a lot of blood, Major. You’ll lose consciousness soon, too.”

  “Tighter, man,” Gari said to his wound wrapper. “That’s better. Zenos will watch out for me, won’t you, Sergeant Major?”

  Zenos nodded at Yordin. “Colonel Shin, why don’t you get Karna and the others back, now,” his voice heavy with meaning. “That Rivers captain can oversee things here. This fire will take over the rest of the village soon and there will be little left to find.” He gave Perrin another searching look.

  It was one Perrin had seen every day for the past year, and alarmingly in the middle of the night in his house. While it was astonishingly presumptuous for a sergeant major to suggest the next procedures to the colonel, Yordin and Karna didn’t censure Zenos, but instead watched the colonel closely.

  Perrin winked at Shem and sent him a quick facial tick that indicated that he was all right.

  Shem’s shoulders relaxed and he offered a small smile back.

  Yordin and Karna exchanged a relieved nod.

  Perrin turned to the field of standing men. “How many of the Mountseen group? Excellent. Start locating our wounded. Those trained as surgeons’ aides from each fort—stay here with me. The rest of you follow Yordin and Zenos to help Fadh. And men,” Perrin said with a glint in his eyes, “I guarantee an extra day off when this is over to whomever picks the unconscious Major Yordin off the ground and brings him back to me before dawn.”

  The soldiers laughed and Perrin sent one last appraising look to Gari who was helped on to his horse by his men.

  “Remember, Colonel—you’re already in trouble! And now, we have witnesses.” Yordin grinned and kicked his horse, and a pack of soldiers followed him and Shem back to the village.

  Perrin turned to Brillen who, upon closer inspection, looked worse than Gari. “You’re growing paler than me, Brillen. Get down. Let’s wrap that leg.”

  Brillen merely nodded and practically fell off his horse. Perrin dismounted and rushed to his side to help him lay on the stubbly field. The thigh wound was deeper than he expected, and the dark blue cloth of his trousers was already saturated.

  Perrin groaned when he realized the severity of the gash. “I’m so sorry, Brillen,” he whispered.

  Karna’s eyes closed in pain and fatigue.

  “This is all my fault. Aide!” Perrin called.

  A soldier rushed to his side and opened his surgeon’s aide pack. Perrin pushed him out of the way and hurriedly dumped the contents of the bag on the ground. He grabbed a large wad of cotton and the soldier unfurled a long wrap.

  “Colonel, please,” the aide said, clearly not pleased that someone was taking over his job. “I can do this. Go supervise the others.”

  “No! I caused this, I fix this.”

  The captain gently pushed the colonel away. “Sir, you’re not here, remember? I’ve been trained. You haven’t. Now, go supervise the others. Sir.”

  “Go, Perrin,” whispered Brillen, his eyes still closed. “Doctoring is not your talent. Killing is. I noticed that you were as deadly as ever tonight, and I don’t want to die.”

  The corner of Perrin’s mouth went up ever so slightly. He nodded and patted the captain on the arm, who was already cutting the drenched wool to expose the gash.

  Perrin got to his feet. He had promised someone he would come back for him.

  He jogged through the slain on the ground, his attention focused on the far side of the field. Soldiers were already attending to the injured, and placing small strips of white cloth by those who were dead. Not a single Guarder seemed to have survived—either because of the efficiency of the soldiers or the Guarders’ custom to commit suicide rather than be taken prisoner—but right now Perrin didn’t care about that. His mind was too preoccupied by what he might find when he reached his destination.

  If Lemuel Thorne were dead, there would be a lot of questions to answer.

  If he were alive, there would be even more.

  He found the captain lying motionless in the brown grass, his eyes closed. As he stood over him, Perrin pushed a variety of thoughts from his mind, most of them not altruistic. He paused for a moment before reluctantly kneeling at Thorne’s side to place his fingers on his neck.

  There was a pulse, slow and weak.

  Perrin didn’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed.

  He unbuttoned Thorne’s jacket. The gash had sliced neatly across the bottom of his ribs, and he had lost a lot of blood, drenching his formerly white undershirt. But the wound wasn’t deep and likely not life-threatening if taken care o
f quickly enough.

  Again Perrin hesitated. Only for a fraction of a second, but it felt much longer than that.

  He looked around the field and waved over an aide who was helping another soldier to stand up on a wrapped leg. The aide jogged over to him.

  “Get the captain bandaged up. We need to start moving the men out of here. The wind’s shifting, and the smoke from the fires will soon grow too heavy to see clearly.”

  The aide nodded and started to work on Thorne.

  Almost an hour later Perrin watched as the last of the wounded were helped out of the field and onto litters and wagons to be sent to the staging area where surgeons were already at work. Brillen’s eyes were still closed and his face even grayer when his litter passed Perrin.

  “Don’t worry, Colonel,” Karna’s captain assured him. “The surgeons at the camp will take care of him. He should be all right.”

  Perrin nodded and gave him The Dinner smile, hoping it would mask the guilt he felt for yet again leading a willing and devoted Brillen somewhere Perrin wasn’t supposed to be. They had both been serving at the Fort at Edge for less than two seasons when Perrin had ordered a nervous Lieutenant Karna to follow him into the forest. Today Brillen had followed him willingly, and was seriously wounded for his loyalty.

  Misplaced loyalty, Perrin sighed to himself. If Brillen Karna didn’t recover, or lost his leg . . .

  Perrin shook the thought out of his head and watched as the rest of the soldiers were carried past him. When Thorne’s litter passed, Perrin only glanced his way. Lemuel was hazily conscious with a faraway look in his eyes. He’d survive.

  With a heavy sigh, Perrin mounted his horse, a creature proving its worth that night. Perrin patted its neck gratefully; perhaps he’d finally found a horse he’d claim as his own. He looked around one more time, evaluating the remaining soldiers. The last aides went to find Yordin and his men still searching the houses with Fadh. Soon they, too, would be back at the staging area. Everyone alive was on their way out of Moorland.