by Guy Antibes
His vision clouded as he finished off an opponent and he stopped his final blow in mid-arc as Restella’s face appeared in his mind and he realized that she had to be close. He followed the link up to see her looking at him from the gallery. She wore a sling for her right arm, but she looked different than he remembered. His image was of a softer, shorter girl. Restella looked like a warrior goddess standing much taller than Fessano. They locked gazes for a moment and he could feel blood rush to his face. Blushing! He couldn’t stay out here with a red face gawking at a captain in the army, so he left the training ground and the distance seemed to break the image.
He ran through the halls and out to the stable yard where he dumped his head into a horse trough and let the cold shock bring him out of the link. He could never touch that woman. If he did, he would crumble in fear. Taking deep breaths, he stood staring up at the castle walls that rose above him. The sooner he could get out in the field and away from proximity to her, the more comfortable he’d feel. His confidence had never been so quickly shaken.
The forges were right around the corner. Perhaps he could thrust her out of his mind by talking to a blacksmith about making an iron-shod staff with a poker at one end. The sharp smell of sintered iron finally broke Restella’s spell. Lotto breathed deeply to clear his head.
“Could you make me one of these with a sharp end? I’ve got a poker weapon back home.”
“I think I’ve already got what you want. It’s a heavy old thing, for you need to weight both ends for balance.” The weapons maker, dirty and sweaty, returned with a rusty weapon that appeared to be exactly what Lotto wanted. “It has a pointy end, like a poker and a flat, blunted blade, like a pick on the other. I imagine you could use the weapon for all kinds of things, from levering up a rock to throwing it like a spear. You look like a strong enough lad. That poker end would pierce any armor, leather, metal, flesh and bone, if used as a lance. Leave it with me and I’ll refinish it for you. We’ve had that thing in the back as long as I’ve been here. It’s probably older than both of us combined.”
The excitement about the staff kept Lotto’s mind diverted until he peeked from underneath the gallery out at the training ground. His eyes were drawn to where Restella had stood, but he felt relief to know she had gone, even though he didn’t need to look. The link had moved into the castle and up towards the royal quarters. He wondered if it was love, but decided that it wasn’t. The magical force of the stone linked them and drew them to each other. How could his mother and father stand it?
The next day he picked up the staff. The rusty thing had been sanded and finished black, except for the shiny point at one end and the short, flat edge on the other. The weight didn’t bother him, but remembering Kenyr’s words, he’d have to train more to get used to it. He didn’t want to use the training ground with the risk of Restella showing up again, so he sought out the indoor gymnasium and dragged Gully with him.
“This is my weapon. The armorer found it in the back of his forge someplace. I need to get used to it.”
“What about archery?”
Lotto shrugged. He wanted to tell Gully the truth. “I don’t think I have the patience to learn.”
His friend looked disappointed. “A crossbow for you, then. Easier to master, closer range, but it still takes a lot of practice. We can do that on the road. Now what do you have to show me?”
Lotto held out his new staff.
“This is heavy! A point on one end and a chisel blade on the other. I’ve never seen one of these before. It looks like something a farmer would love,” Gully said. “How did you get it?”
“I wanted a round point on the end and the armorer remembered he had this. I need to practice with it. I told you the story about the poker?”
Gully nodded.
“I sparred yesterday…”
“When Princess Restella walked out on the gallery and you fled like a bashful schoolboy. Everyone knows.”
“How?”
Gully just shook his head. “From what I hear, you two froze, looking at each other, until you ran away.”
Lotto hung his head. “We’re linked.”
“If that’s what you want to call it. Everyone else calls it love at first sight.”
He didn’t want to remind Gully about the Moonstone and just accepted the general interpretation. “She’s the most stunning person I’ve ever seen,” he said, gritting his teeth right after he said it. “I didn’t expect her to do the same. I don’t consider myself stunning.”
‘Oh you’re stunning enough, Mistad. Now show me what you’ve got.” Lotto sighed with relief. If Gully would dismiss the encounter, then he would too. He circled Lotto with his own iron-shod staff.
Lotto twirled the staff, not quite as quickly as he would one of the other staffs and attacked his friend. Gully had moves he hadn’t seen before, but Lotto fought without being struck. Gully probably wished for the same, for Lotto’s strikes had broken through and were certain to raise welts. He grabbed the octagonal shape of the shaft, another innovation of whoever had designed the staff, and jammed the flat blade right to the side of Gully’s foot.
His opponent jumped back and looked at the flat blade embedded three inches into the dirt floor of the gymnasium.
“Whew, I’m glad you missed. That’s a frightening dimension. Either end carries it’s own surprise,” Gully said.
Lotto laughed and threw the staff into a wooden target for spears. The wooden plank split with the force of the staff and stuck into the wooden support behind. It took both of them to remove it.
“I’ll have to remember that. If I throw it too hard in battle, I might not have the time to retrieve it.”
Gully whistled. “I’m not going to spar with you carrying that thing again. Tell you what. A few of us wrap their staffs in oiled leather. I suggest you do the same or you’ll get a reputation that might get in the way of your command.”
Lotto laughed, but Gully didn’t. “Get it done now. We leave in a few days,” Gully said and it surprised Lotto because it sounded an awfully lot like an order.
~
On the last night before they were to leave, Lotto spent it in the barracks. He had written out a list to make sure he had everything. Sitting on his bunk, he picked up the spell handbook that Fessano had given him. Ever since he had seen Restella on the gallery, he wanted nothing to do with the Moonstone or magic, but he would be a fool not use magic as a weapon. None but Gully knew of his capabilities, so he could probably get away with lighting campfires, but what if they needed his help to carry out a mission? He’d have to learn some basic spells.
He chided himself for his continued weakness as far as the princess was concerned. This would be the last night he’d dream of Princess Restella or as his fellow soldiers called her, Captain Beecher. He slipped the book in his saddlebags and laid back. The other soldiers were all out at various establishments in Beckondale for a last fling. Lotto liked a good time as much as the next soldier, but he’d rather forego the headache when they rode out in the morning.
Gully had suggested that he get tight fitting soft leather garment to wear under his trousers. It would save him the anguish and embarrassment of the first couple of days travel. He laid it on top of his clothes so he wouldn’t forget to put it on in the morning.
Lotto figured that he had learned to fit in. The rangers weren’t much for drills but Lotto could now salute, stand at attention and could now do an about face as well as anyone. Gully said he would give all of the command training he’d need on the road. He smiled at the thought of all of the acquaintances he had made in the three weeks they’d been training.
“Lotto?”
Mander walked in and sat next to Lotto on his bunk. “Have you got your staff with you?” His mentor actually looked excited when Lotto pulled it out of its leather case. “I’ve heard you had an odd battle staff.”
‘What’s so odd about it? Someone left it behind. The blacksmith said it had been in the back for a long time.�
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Mander laughed. “Indeed it has. This was General Kirrello’s personal weapon. He died one hundred and thirty years ago on the field of battle. The Oringians, again. They wore plate armor in those days and he would batter and smash his opponents with this. There’s a painting in the castle with him holding this very weapon.”
“How did he die?” Lotto was in awe as Mander told him the history of his staff.
“An arrow through his visor. Not a nice way to go, but then it might have been an instant death.” Mander shrugged. “I’m proud of you, Lotto. Pulling this out on your own. It takes a certain person to wield it, and you are that person.”
“Thanks for putting Gully and me in the rangers.”
Mander waved away the comment. “Gully will do just fine. I’ll bet he knew he’d be called back eventually.”
“He did,” Lotto said amazed at Gully’s confidence and that it was so well placed.
“Do us all proud, Lotto. There are dark forces in the world that need to be pushed back. The Red Kingdom has just fallen. Learsea and Valetan are under attack. Baronies and Dukedoms are spurning treaties and I imagine it will get much worse before it gets better.”
“Aren’t there any other allies?”
Mander snorted. “I suspect that Daryaku is working hard to suborn every kingdom and principality. He’s behind all of this, I’m sure. I told you that a Dakkoran wizard put a spell on Baron Forthwith. All of Besseth is under siege and don’t think it isn’t. Prola is where you’re headed and I think the king is under Daryaku’s influence, as well. But he’s one among many.
“Roppon is as insular as always, a nest of bureaucratic infighting. It has the highest concentration of wizards in the world, yet all they seem to be able to do is fight amongst themselves. I doubt that they’ll be dragged into this war.”
“So Dakkor is at war with the rest of the world?” Lotto said.
That raised a half smile from Mander. “So it is, in a way. We’ve never invaded any domain on Zarron, including Dakkor, and they’ve never attacked us in this way before. I have no idea how it will all come out. Perhaps you’ll be at the center of it, eh, Lotto?” He slapped Lotto’s knee.
“I’m just a common soldier.”
“I would say that you are quite an uncommon soldier. Promise me that you will take care of yourself and keep me informed when you can. Use official or unofficial channels. They’ll both get to me.” Mander clapped Lotto on the shoulder and used him to get up.
“My back still hurts, as usual. That’s not Daryaku’s doing,” Mander said, slowly straightening up. Both men stood and hugged. “Take care and do me proud, Lotto.” He waved as he left, but didn’t look back.
The conversation left Lotto in a pensive mood. So many people looked up to him and yet he hadn’t done anything to deserve their confidence. He could use arms, but so could every man in the rangers. Well, maybe he was better in some areas than the others.
~~~
CHAPTER NINETEEN
~
RESTELLA ROSE TWO DAYS LATER, amazed that Lotto no longer pestered her dreams. Did she miss him? She shook that thought off and strode off to the barracks to see General Reallo.
“We sent a regiment and a very large squad of rangers for duties on our western borders with Prola, yesterday morning, Captain. Did you wish to see them off?”
She didn’t like the glint in Reallo’s eye. The general was too much the joker for her. Silver had told her about the rumors surrounding her visit to the training grounds and she decided that the best way to address it was to stay away.
“I’d like permission to begin to train again. My arm will remain in the sling, in fact I’ll have someone tie my arm tighter to my body, but I must move around or I’ll turn into a soft princess again, General, sir.” She said that to entertain the general. His smile rewarded her effort.
“Suit yourself. You’re forces will be mustered out from Captain Jossi’s unit in two weeks. I suppose we can order them here for a week of training and two week’s rest and then send you out at that time. The healers say you’ve got at least another two weeks before they think you’re ready and that will fit the timeframe well enough. I imagine you’d like to go after Ashdown, with many of Forthwith’s men at your side rather than his?”
Restella couldn’t help but smile. “Indeed, sir.” Relieved that Lotto headed west and she would deploy further to the north, she could now concentrate on getting well and working with her father and Mander Hart on strategy.
~
As the weeks passed much more slowly than suited Restella, Lotto still plagued her dreams. They didn’t have the potency that her dreams did when he trained in the castle, but he would enter as the little half-wit and turn into the man she saw at the training ground or the just opposite would happen. Sometimes he threatened her, physically and other times he saved her from attacking forces. Why couldn’t he leave her alone? His presence in her mind was such a distraction!
The dreams weren’t romantic, but the attraction still persisted. She wanted to scrub him out of her mind, but couldn’t. The day came when the healers finally gave her permission to use her right arm and training became her diversion. Restella made certain that she trained hardest in the evenings so she’d be so exhausted that she would fall into a dreamless sleep.
She anxiously awaited her return to battle when she could mount her horse and lead troops out of the city. As usual, with the spring came a flood of new recruits. General Reallo had doubled her unit. She now nearly had enough soldiers to call her unit an army, as she rode towards a confrontation with Baron Ashdown. A lot were green and along the way, she’d pair them up with experienced soldiers so by the time they arrived, all of her soldiers could fight.
~
The journey to the northwest came to a crawl with her expanded forces. They only traveled for half of a day, spending the other half drilling the men in how to use their arms. Most of the men carried pikes, since poles could be cut from saplings along the way and steel heads mounted as they continued to march. At this rate it would take three or more weeks to get to the border with Ashdown.
Restella observed the process from her horse. She had never had a blacksmith wagon in her group before, but then she had spent only two years in the field. Four horses pulled the steel wagon. The forge fire never fully went out, but still it would take hours to get up to the proper heat so the blacksmith could push a glowing pin of metal to lock a pike head on a pole. But even with the fires banked up, the heat served to dry the saplings and stiffen them up.
She thought of Lotto’s finding General Kirrello’s staff. Could the Moonstone be at work? Lotto’s practice with the staff became the talk of the veterans while she trained. She wondered what would have to happen to give her the peace to go about her own business without every thought turning to him? She ground her teeth and turned her horse towards her tent. Perhaps her father, the king, could arrange something at some point, maybe a posting for Lotto in Learsea or someplace even further from Beckonvale.
Her tent was larger this time. She had two Captains reporting to her as well as ten lieutenants. Silver had just finished spreading maps on the collapsible table that all of her staff reviewed every evening.
“What do the scouts tell us?” she asked Silver.
He jerked up. “I didn’t hear you come in. Lost in thought, ma’am.”
“A few are still out, but no specific signs of Ashdown, but I don’t expect anything until we are halfway into Forthwith’s lands and that won’t be for a week, yet.”
“I wish that we had more scouts, like Lieutenant Workman’s unit under Captain Applewood,” Silver said.
Lotto’s group! The last thing she wanted was for him to get back into range. She turned and touched the moonstone and could sense him to the south of them. “Ah, yes, Workman’s unit is far from us.”
“Begging your pardon, ma’am, but how can you know?”
Could she confide partly to Silver? She looked down at the map and then
closed her eyes and touched her sword. “About here along the border with Prola.”
Silver furrowed his brow and waited for Restella to talk.
“The Moonstone. Lotto Mistad found it and when I took it out of his hand, we became bonded somehow. Fessano, the Court Wizard knows more of how it works than I do. Other than make me taller and stronger…” Restella shrugged. “I have no magical power, but Lotto and I are bound to the stone. I can sense where he is.”
Silver looked at Restella and back down at the map. “The rumors of your encounter at the training ground were because of your bond?”
She nodded. “It’s not a romantic bond, but a function of the Moonstone’s power. I can sense where he is and he can sense where I am, even better than I can, him. If we’re close, like at Beckondale, in the castle, I had dreams of him every night. Again, not romantic, but Lotto showed up all the same. Before the Moonstone, he was a village half-wit, boy-sized, maybe four-and-a-half feet tall. Addled. He could barely put two words together and after we touched the stone together, we both passed out. I left with it and he grew man-sized in just days. His mind grew as well and he’s got magical power.”
“Who knows all this?” Silver said.
“It’s not a secret, exactly. Mander Hart took him in. Kenyr, the weapons master knows and Fessano, of course. I’d like to hate Mistad for intruding on my life. Ever since I relented and followed Fessano’s advice to see him on the training ground, every day he shows up in my mind in one thought or another. Sometimes I think I’m going to go mad.”
“I can see why you are frustrated,” Silver said. “Lotto’s a commoner. Your father could just banish him.”
The thought had crossed Restella’s mind before. “He’s not a commoner. His father and mother were Serytaran nobility. Kenyr was their sworn man.”