“Mathius is… upset,” she said worriedly.
Lucius snorted. “Raging mad more likely!”
Julia thought so too, but when he came in with Keverin, he was ice calm. That look made her even more scared for him than if he had been raging.
“Promise me you won’t do anything,” she said fearfully. “Promise me Mathius.”
Mathius was a terrible liar. If he so much as thought of lying his face would burn red telling everyone within leagues of his attempt. He shook his head and that was all. Lucius made to speak, but Mathius raised his hand, he wasn’t interested.
Keverin pulled Julia to her feet and kissed her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You were right to stay. If we had left I wouldn’t have the chance I now have to finish Demophon.”
Julia pulled violently away. “Not you too! Have you both gone insane? Demophon will kill you!”
“Now Julia—” Keverin began.
“Don’t now Julia me! You don’t know this man as I do. He’s powerful, Kev. More powerful than you are, Mathius. By far!” She turned to Lucius, “Tell them Lucius; tell them not to go!”
“I can’t do that. You see, I’ll be going as well. I vowed to kill him deader than dead for what he has done, and now I mean to make good on that vow.”
“No! There are hundreds of sorcerers with him,” she turned back to Keverin. “And thirty thousand legionnaires, Kev. What can you do against that?”
Julia was relieved to see frustration appear upon his face as he digested that. Thank the God her sensible Keverin was back. He wouldn’t risk his men for nothing—she hoped.
“You’ll let Mathius and Lucius help kill Demophon won’t you, Shelim?” she said eagerly, willing him to say yes.
Shelim turned to Kerrion with an eyebrow raised in question. Kerrion shrugged. It was all right with him. Julia clutched Kerrion’s hand in gratitude.
“You may ride by my side,” Shelim said to the mages. “If you would do me the honour of killing this Demophon for us, I would be in your debt.”
Lucius looked to Mathius for agreement. Mathius’s face unfroze a little.
Julia saw a chance and took it. “Do it for me, Mathius,” she said clutching him close. “Do it for Moriz and Halbert and all the others Demophon has killed—please.”
“You fight dirty, Julia,” Mathius whispered. “All right, but this time he dies or I do.”
Keverin nodded. “He dies or I do.”
“He dies or I do,” Lucius said sealing the triumvirate.
Julia looked at the three men she loved above all others and was scared to death. They were serious, deadly serious. If Jihan was here he would have made it worse. She had no doubt he would have joined this insanity, and Purcell… Julia groaned, thank the God Purcell was leagues away and didn’t know what was going on. She never wanted to see him berserk again. Silently she vowed to seek out Demophon and kill him before her men found him; it was the only way to be sure they would be safe.
Now that some kind of agreement had been reached, everyone settled down to talk about the situation more calmly. Shelim told Keverin about his battle, concentrating on how the legionnaires handled themselves and what tactics they chose to employ. Keverin knew all there was to know about the Protectorate and its legions, but it wouldn’t hurt to verify his knowledge with firsthand accounts.
Julia frowned as she thought of something. “That’s what I wanted to ask you about. Do you know if magic was used to take the cities?”
Shelim shook his head. “Do you remember hearing anything like that?” he asked the twins who were starting to look bored.
“No, father. I mean no it wasn’t. The monster used stones out of the sky, but they came from a big boat,” Emma said looking at Amara who shook her head.
She frowned at hearing that. “They might have been thrown with magic, but why bother? They could have used lightning or fire as easily. You know what I think?”
None of them did.
“I think they used a catapult to throw those rocks precisely because they didn’t have any mages with them.”
“What is a catapult?” Keverin said.
“It’s a machine that throws things. What you do is make a winch that powers a lever. You put a stone in the bucket at one end then wind the arm down. When you let the tension go the arm springs up and the stone sails out to hit what you aimed at. I haven’t seen one on this world, but a long time ago on my old world we used them a lot. I’m betting that’s what was used at Calvados. Think about it. At Durena, they used towers to climb the walls when blasting them with magic would be easier, then at Calvados they fortified their camp and defended instead of attacking. At no time was magic seen to be used. That says to me they didn’t have mages.”
“You might be right, but they have them now. We have to make sure they don’t interfere when Tobiah attacks Navarien’s warriors,” Shelim said.
“We have made a start on that,” Julia said. “The shamen are learning mind-speech so they can talk to each other during battle and coordinate their attacks. Kerrion is the only one who can produce a shield as yet. It’s weak, but it’s there. With practice it will gain strength. Linking is causing your people some problems, I will admit to that, but I think we’ll overcome the problem in time. Weapons… well you already know fire, and some can use lightning, though not many. Kerrion has taught me the crushing of things and all shamen know how to do that. I think if we concentrate on mind-speech, linking, and shields, we should be in good shape to counter the sorcerers.”
Everyone nodded. It all depended on Tobiah. If he could devise a way to bring the shamen close to the Hasians without getting them killed, then they could wreak havoc on the legion, if not…
Best not to think on that side of things, Julia thought grimly.
* * *
12 ~ War Leader
Why did it have to be him? Methrym fumed. He knew why of course, Wakiza was the best Japura had after the destruction of Talayan, but knowing didn’t make it any easier. In a way, he had brought this on himself when he went ahead with his plan to sack the city. Now that Talayan and its people were gone, he had to contend with Talitha’s only other veteran Strike Leader, a man from Talitha’s second greatest city. A man named Wakiza.
The roar of battle almost drowned out the cry of the cornets, but that was good enough for the men as another thousand strong battalion charged the centre of the Japuran line. He winced as they crunched into the line at a full gallop. Men were cut from the saddle all along the line; others defended successfully and attacked in turn trying to protect their mounts as well as themselves. Those unlucky enough to be dispossessed were easy meat for Japuran swords, but not many fell this time. That had not been the case with other battles they had fought recently.
The screams of the horses were the worst part. Many of the horses were down from the previous charge. They were still trying futilely to rise on hamstrung legs. Men were screaming in hate and fear, the horses in fear and pain, but still the Japurans came on. Thank the God for this valley, Methrym thought. Without it, the battle would have been a running fight like the all the others had been. Instead, he had brought the Japurans to a field battle of manoeuvre and it was paying off. The charge was broken as the one before it had been, but the Japurans were blooded.
Just two seasons ago, he would have been shouting his throat raw trying to make his orders heard, but now the cornets sounded, and the men readied themselves for another charge. He had stolen the idea of using music instead of waved flags and shouting, from the Hasian legions. It was just a small part of what made them to be feared, but every little advantage helped and he was certainly receiving the benefit here. The men had become so accustomed to the tunes now that they were responding faster than they had ever achieved before. They hardly needed their captains any longer; instead, they took their orders directly from the cornets.
“It’s about time my luck turned,” he said to himself.
“What did you say cousin?” Soren enquire
d.
“I said Lorenz is doing well!” he yelled over the noise.
Soren nodded and went back to watching the battle.
Methrym had chosen this valley with care. He had every advantage that he could think of except overwhelming numbers. He was standing on the rise of a small hill in the centre of a sloping valley. To the right was dense forest that he had ordered his captains to use as an anchor for their formation. On the left a river—a small one to be sure, but Lorenz was making excellent use of it. His cousin was fully committed now, but the Japurans were still pushing him hard.
“Fucking Wakiza!” Soren snarled.
Methrym nodded grimly. Wakiza was War Leader for the Japuran army that had invaded at the end of winter; not that Japurans had war leaders, but a Strike Leader was the same thing. It had been a great shock seeing an army of Japurans running toward him through the snow that night where none had any right being. It was enough to make anyone gasp in surprise, but it was the Japurans that had lost that battle handily. They had thought to destroy Nelek, and it would have worked, except for one minor detail they hadn’t known of. Methrym’s entire army had been encamped outside its walls. Eight thousand men, veterans all, had no trouble at all dispatching the overeager Japurans.
He grimaced. That was the last time he had won anything in this war. He was losing, and there was not a thing he could do about it. If Wakiza had been with his army that night things might have been different now, but he hadn’t been worse luck. Instead, he was busy laying waste to entire towns and villages expecting to have a free hand. The Japuran bastard was wrong in thinking that, but although Methrym was contesting him at every turn, he had been unable to beat him convincingly. Strike Leader Wakiza now had the inestimable honour of being Methrym’s personal nemesis.
He shaded his eyes. There was activity at the rear of the Japuran line now. Wakiza habitually held his personal forces in reserve, and today was no different, but he might be becoming concerned. Methrym grinned as detachments from the centre moved to reinforce the left wing where Lorenz was in danger of rolling up their line. Yes, it was working but too slowly. As Lorenz pushed ahead on the left, Wakiza reinforced with men from the centre as Methrym had wanted, but the centre was not yet weakened to the point where a charge would break through.
He checked the right wing, but it was still strong. Maybe leaving three thousand men with Parry was the wrong move, but no, he had to be sure his rear was covered. Besides, his army was supposed to protect the people not leave them open to attack. The city of Chala was Wakiza’s target, but this time the bastard was not getting it! This time he was going to stop Wakiza and destroy his army as he did.
The thought of getting his hands on Wakiza was enough to make his palms sweat, but he didn’t believe he had a realistic chance of that here today. It was far more likely he would chase the Japurans all over the landscape. Wakiza was too damn good to allow his army to be decimated when he could so easily retreat to Japura and live to fight another day. No, hoping to lay hands on the man was pointless; what were the odds of fighting his way through an entire army and then confronting the one man he wanted above all others?
None, no chance at all.
His army was the strongest ever to be raised in Tanjung, and most of it was right here, but five thousand against twelve thousand Japurans was pushing it just a bit. Still, this battle might just be the turning point of the entire war. If the rumours of a second army to the east were unfounded as he thought, then all he had to do was kill enough men here to make the Japurans retreat and then keep the pressure on to drive them back.
Soren was pacing back and forth impatient to join what he called the fun. Methrym glanced sideways at him. The only fun to be found down in the valley was riding back unharmed. The Japuran line was still strong; Wakiza’s force leaders were taking advantage of the forest and river as Sabra and Lorenz were doing. That was the one problem with choosing this valley; what could be used to advantage could as easily be turned to his disadvantage especially as he was outnumbered. He frowned. The reports of a second army might not be too far from the truth he realised. There weren’t twelve thousand Japurans visible here. With a sinking feeling he turned to one of his messengers.
“Ride to captain Sabra and tell him to watch for surprises out of the forest,” he ordered the man.
The messenger saluted and sprinted to his horse then galloped toward the fighting on the right.
Soren looked at Methrym with a question in his eyes. “Cousin?”
“How many would you say we’re up against here?”
Soren turned back and made a quick sweep of the battle lines. “Seven, perhaps eight thous—” he broke off.
“Exactly,” Methrym said grimly. “Where are the others?”
“Fucking Wakiza!” Soren said again with feeling.
Methrym cupped his chin and thought furiously. If Wakiza had four thousand fresh men, what would he do with them? He spun urgently to look behind him, but there was no sign of anything amiss and there would be if the enemy was back there. The ground was open to the rear and the valley widened considerably, enough to make him confident in his assessment. It had to be the forest. He wished Lorenz had taken the right instead of Sabra. Both captains were good soldiers, but Lorenz was the more able man in these circumstances. He was better at making fast decisions when surprised.
“I want you to mount up and hit them on the right, Soren. Take a thousand from the reserve and hit them hard. Smash them up for me.”
“It will be a pleasure,” Soren said and ran off toward his men.
I doubt it.
The words Soren hadn’t said still hung in the air, but Methrym didn’t care what Soren thought. Being too cautious could be as bad as being too eager, but not when Wakiza was the opponent.
Cornets blew and Soren charged at the head of a thousand eager soldiers. The Japurans had a large debt to pay, and they were going to collect. Soren seemed to live a charmed life, but Methrym was still relieved to note that his second had seen sense and dropped back into the bulk of his men before engaging the enemy.
The impact was horrendous.
Methrym marvelled at the strength of the Japurans to withstand such a charge, but then he spat in disgust at the lack of a breach. He watched the Japurans as they were hammered back, but they did not break. The shock of the charge sent ripples through the Japuran ranks, but it halted abruptly when it reached Wakiza’s best troops in the centre.
“Come on curse you, send some to the right!”
He was staring at the Japuran lines and willing Wakiza to thin his centre when he did just that. He was so shocked he couldn’t believe his eyes at first, but it was true. A large group detached itself from the centre and went to oppose Soren who had pushed well forward. The strange thing was that the opposition had stiffened now and Soren was making no further progress; so why reinforce? Straight away, he began looking for the trap, but he just couldn’t see it. Why now, when Lorenz had been chewing up the left for candlemarks? He hesitated once more but then he snarled a curse. Soren was right; he was being an old woman. It was time to fight. He turned to young Alrik who was standing not far away with his instrument in hand.
“Sound general advance, boy.”
Alrik saluted and blew for all he was worth. The tune soared out over the battlefield and the men already engaged answered with a hard push at the Japurans. There was some confusion among the reserve, but captain Casta shouted the men back into line. While this was going on, Methrym mounted and indicated to Alrik to do the same. The boy gulped but did as he was bid.
“Casta!”
“Sir?”
“Get your men ready. At the signal I want a full charge at the centre and this time we’re going through!”
Casta grinned and saluted before running back to his men shouting orders. The men were ready, they had been for candlemarks, but it never hurt to make sure as Casta was doing.
He turned to Alrik. “Stick to me like rust, boy. I want you to
blow the charge, but as soon as we hit the line, I want you to blow general advance again. Keep blowing that thing and pray this works.”
“I haven’t a shield, Sir.”
“You can’t play if you carry a shield can you?”
“No but—” Alrik broke off as a messenger with the distinctive red chevrons on his arms raced toward them from the rear.
Methrym turned back to the battle, but decided he had time to hear the message.
“Sir, Captain Parry sent me on ahead,” gasped the messenger.
“What?” Methrym said in confusion. Parry was to hold Chala with his portion of the army not join him in this battle.
“He’s abandoned Chala—”
“What!” he roared in disbelief and startling his horse. The beast hopped and bucked. Pulling her cruelly back under control, he glared at the messenger. “I’ll have him executed for dereliction!”
“But Sir!” the messenger cried in shock. “He had to. We were attacked two days back. It was Wakiza himself I swear! The captain had to retreat. We have hundreds of wounded.”
Wakiza’s name snapped him out of his fury. “Wakiza? You’re sure it was not another?”
“I’m sure.”
He nodded and looked back at the battle. Wakiza was not here, and that explained why the centre of the line below was thinning. He would never have allowed that had he been present. He would have retreated a short distance to reform his lines. Methrym calmed himself. Nothing had changed, yet everything had. The second army was not to the east as rumour had it. It was north and coming up his arse!
“How long before Wakiza hits me here?”
The messenger licked his lips. “He’ll be here by morning if we don’t stop him. He let us retreat without pursuit. He stopped to destroy Chala.”
He shook his head in dismay. Another ancient city gone. He should never have given in to the temptation to burn Talayan. Tanjung was paying dearly for that night of weakness.
“The people?”
“Most are dead, some came with us—not many.”
“How many?”
Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 Page 115