by Matt Heppe
“Thank you so much, Kael.”
“For the children.” He gave her a nod and marched off, leading the horses away.
Nine months of parenthood, often caring for both children, had turned Maret into an expert diaper cloth changer. She shook her head and grinned as she went to work. Eighteen months ago she had lived a life of blissful privilege.
Back then her goal had been to find a handsome, powerful husband who would love her. She would have taken two out of the three, she admitted. And it would have been her goal to have children and to raise them to follow in her husband’s footsteps. But she never, ever would have been expected to change their diaper clothes or to feed them from her own breasts.
And here she was, in half-Landomeri dress, the prisoner of a man who was once beneath her father’s rank, changing children on a bed of flowers in the heart of a wild forest, about to feed them in plain sight of fifty, no thirty-some, men.
Maret stuffed the dirty linen diaper cloths under an exposed root several yards away. There was just no chance to wash and boil them. And, just maybe, they would be a hint to their pursuers that the children were still alive and well.
She placed one of her bags against the trunk of the tree and then gathered up the two children. Kael returned and placed a bowl of pea porridge on a root near her. “It’s warm,” he said. “The scouts started fires so that we could have a warm meal before the storm arrives. I put some bacon in it.”
“Bacon for babies?”
“Everyone likes bacon.”
Maret laughed. “I guess you’re right.”
Kael rolled his shoulder and grimaced. “I’m off to have my wound sewn. Do you need anything before I go?”
Maret put her hand to her mouth. “You did all this for me and your wound needs tending?”
He shrugged and then grimaced again. “You have much on your hands,” he said before turning and leaving.
“Thank you,” Maret called after him. He waved but didn’t turn.
The children were hungry and eagerly ate the peas and bacon. But they were tired as well, and it was not long after their bellies were full that they dozed off. Maret put the peas aside and lay down next to the children. A bed of everbloom cushioned the blanket, and with their beautiful sent wafting over her, she fell asleep.
At some point the rumble of thunder woke her. It was almost full dark. She felt the weight of two sleeping children against her and closed her eyes again.
Had she fallen asleep again? She heard a man’s voice, Kael’s voice, speaking in Idorian. Another responded.
Maret opened her eyes. The men were a few strides off, silhouettes in the darkness. Kael and Saunder. Orlos was awake, playing with an everbloom sprig. Enna slept in the crook of her arm.
As Maret sat up, Saunder said, “I’m sorry if we woke you.”
Maret transferred Enna to her lap, where she started to stir. “No,” she said as she buttoned her dress. “I’ve slept—”
A chorus of howls shattered the silence of the night. They were close, all around the camp, the sound echoing through the trees. Maret pulled Orlos close to her. He stared out into the forest, a smile on his face.
“In Forsvar’s name,” Kael said.
“Lupe! Lupe agros!” someone shouted.
“Armata!” shouted Saunder. “Armata alle!”
A horn sounded the alert, but was overwhelmed by another chorus of howls. Somewhere nearby, horses screamed and men shouted. Saunder called more orders as he strode away.
From the shouts it sounded to Maret like the fighting was everywhere. Kael drew his sword and stepped closer to her. “Stay down.”
Maret leaned forward to get a better look at what was happening. Her heart pounded. Was this it? Was this the rescue?
The fighting grew in intensity, men shouted in anger and pain. Horses ran through the night, scattered by the attack. Many ran right through camp, pursued by wolves. Soldiers leveled their crossbows and bolts flew through the night. But in the darkness and confusion more missed than hit.
A soldier bent to span his crossbow when a low form darted out of the darkness, slamming into his legs from behind. The man toppled and the beast was on top of him, ramming his head into the soldier’s body.
It took Maret a moment to realize it was a boar attacking him. A second soldier charged forward and impaled the boar with his sword, but the enraged animal turned on him instead.
Another soldier struck at a wolf with his un-spanned crossbow, wielding it like a club. He drove the wolf off, only to have another one leap on his back, driving him to the ground.
Only animals. Where are the Landomeri? Maret gathered the children closer. Both were awake, but neither cried despite the noise and chaos around them. It couldn’t just be animals attacking. It didn’t make sense. The Landomeri had to be near.
Saunder shouted more orders in Idorian. Maret saw him surrounded by soldiers, fighting as a unit. With him were Baron Grax and his man-at-arms. He had lost his valet-at-arms in the Kiremi attack. Unlike the isolated soldiers, Saunder’s men were successfully fighting off the wolves and boars.
More men moved to join Saunder and his perimeter grew. Five men ran to Kael. They exchanged words. “They help protect the children,” Kael said. Two held crossbows and the others swords and axes. Only one, a swordsman, was not in full mail.
“Ware archers!” someone shouted.
“Dromost take them,” Kael said. “They’re using the beast attack as cover to shoot us.”
Hadde is here! Maret searched the darkness for any sign of her friend. This animal attack was her attack, although Maret had no idea how. The Landomeri had never shown any ability to command animals before.
“It’s not cover,” Maret said to the nearby Idorians. “Hadde the Akinos-slayer commands the beasts of the forests. I warned you she wouldn’t let you take us.”
The Idorians stared at her, uncertainty in their eyes.
“They will come for you until you set us free.”
Nearby a soldier screamed in pain, distracting the soldiers’ attention. “There!” Kael said, pointing at a boar that had just gored a crossbowman in the leg. “Shoot it!”
The two crossbowmen leveled their bows at a boar and pulled their triggers. The bolts struck the beast, knocking it down. But just as they lowered their weapons a terrible roar sounded from behind the tree.
Maret turned just in time to see a huge bear charge into the Idorians. Three were knocked down at the initial impact, Kael among them.
A swordsman raised his sword to strike it, but the beast hit him first, the giant paw sending the man flying. Rising on its hind legs the bear let out another roar.
Maret fell back, turning her body to shield the children from the bear. The tree blocked her retreat. All she could do was stare as the bear turned on her. Enna clutched at Maret and stared at the bear in fear. Orlos strained in Maret’s grasp, both of his arms reaching out to the beast.
“Orlos, no!”
The bear dropped to all fours and took a few strides toward Maret until its face was an arm’s reach from hers. It chuffed at her and turned and lumbered a few strides away before turning back to her. Orlos frantically strained in her grasp, still reaching out to the bear.
Kael, back on his feet, raised his sword and shouted. The bear charged him. Kael slashed at the bear’s head but swung off-balance as he backpedaled from the fearsome beast.
Kael tripped over a root and fell to his back. The bear swatted at him, its claws hanging up in his mail. Kael struck at its muzzle with the pommel of his sword. The bear backed off, turned, and lunged towards Maret. She couldn’t help crying out.
Once again, the bear chuffed at her before lumbering away. Orlos, still struggling, cried out in frustration as the bear retreated. The bear turned, staring at them.
It wants us to follow. The realization struck like a blow. Orlos had known it all along. It was the spiridus in him. Maret had just started to rise when the first bolt struck, the feathered shaft sp
ringing from the bear’s shoulder.
“No!” Maret shouted as another bolt struck the bear’s flank. The bear turned away from her and charged two nearby crossbowmen. One threw himself to the side. The second, was caught and knocked to the ground. The bear rose up and brought both forepaws down on the man’s chest. Maret heard bones snap.
More bolts struck the bear until it fell with a groan and lay still. Too late to save it, a pair of eagles swept down and struck at the crossbowmen. One mercenary was knocked unconscious by the sudden blow to his head.
The other crossbowman fell to the forest floor, his mailed arms crossed over his exposed face. The bird followed him down, clawing and slashing at him. More soldiers ran to his aid.
Maret saw her chance and got to her feet. If Hadde was here, all she had to do was escape to the forest. Hadde and Calen would find her and they would all escape together.
Maret had only gone a few strides when Kael’s voice called out, “Stay here, Lady Maret! It is not safe with the beasts. I’ll protect—gah!”
Maret glanced over her shoulder as he cried out. An arrow protruded from Kael’s chest. His face writhed in pain as he yanked it out. “Archer’s ware!” he shouted, pointing into the darkness.
Maret ran.
“Stop!” Kael shouted.
Maret heard him stomping after her. “Dromost!” he shouted. She ran as fast as she dared with two children in her arms, but it was not fast enough. Kael grabbed her dress collar from behind. She nearly stumbled and fell, but he held her up.
“Archer here,” Kael shouted. Maret saw another arrow protruding from Kael’s armor. Hadde had shot him twice, but neither arrow had penetrated his armor.
Strings snapped forward as nearby crossbowmen shot into the darkness. A soldier shouted—a victorious sound.
“They got her,” Kael said. “She’s down.”
“No!” Maret screamed. “No!”
Two Idorians ran past as Kael dragged Maret back into the ring of mercenaries. “It’s over,” he said.
“No. They didn’t get her, did they?” Maret pleaded.
“I didn’t see, but it sounds so.” He stepped in front of her and stared down the slope. “The animals are dead. All of them.”
“But where is Hadde? Where is Calen?”
Kael shook his head. “Dead, I think.”
Chapter Seventeen
There was no plan. There was no organization. The animals only stopped moving long enough for the wolves to let loose with a terrifying howl. Hadde and Calen, traveling at the back of the pack, didn’t know the attack was starting until after it had already begun.
As the first Idorian warning shouts rang out Hadde partially drew her bow, scanning her surroundings for a target. It was a moonlit night, a good night for archery. But a good night for crossbowmen as well.
Dismount, Hadde hunter signed to Calen just as the first warning horns sounded. She leapt from her saddle, wrapping Quickstep’s reins around the branch of a waxbush.
The last of the animals rushed by as the first sounds of combat could be heard. “We have to find Maret and the children. You go that way,” Hadde said, waving him off to the left. “Get them out of camp and to the horses. Ride for Belavil if all else fails.”
The battle was a chaotic melee. The wolves and boars had poured into the camp attacking indiscriminately. Overhead birds of prey swept down in their own attacks, raking and slashing at the exposed faces of the Idorians. Hadde could only see one bear. It pursued a terrified Idorian screaming for his life.
There were several Idorians down, but few had been killed. Almost all wore mail, or at least aketons. They had learned a hard lesson from Hadde’s bow, and even in camp remained prepared. The armor served well against the fangs and tusks of the attacking beasts.
She would do her best to even the odds. Hadde drew and loosed at a crossbowman thirty strides away. Her bodkin arrow punched through his armor, knocking him to the ground. It had not penetrated deep enough to kill him, but the wound clearly galled him.
Hadde drew and loosed at a Saladoran fending off a wolf with his crossbow. The arrow flew low, striking him in the lower thigh, just above his knee. He toppled and the wolf leapt on him, savaging his exposed face.
“Ware archers!” someone shouted and others took up the call. Hadde took shelter behind a tree and nocked another arrow. The fighting had broken into several knots, with small groups of Idorians fending off the attacking beasts.
Off to her left, Calen loosed his own arrows, and he aimed true. She saw an Idorian fall to one of his arrows, and then he dashed forward, deeper into the fight.
For a time the Great Spirit’s animals would have the advantage of surprise and fear. But Hadde knew that armor and steel weapons would more than even the odds. If the attack were to succeed it had to be now.
Hadde stepped from behind the tree, took aim, and loosed. One after another, as fast as she could, she nocked and loosed arrows. Most of her arrows struck home, but the well-forged mail and sturdy aketons took the brunt of the punishment.
Under the combined onslaught of the animals and archers, the nearest Saladorans fell dead or wounded, or fled up the slope to where they stood in greater force.
Hadde clenched her teeth against the pain in her side. With each draw she could feel her wound tearing open. Warm blood flowed down her side, but she didn’t relent until the nearest Idorians were down or fled.
Hidden by darkness, Hadde was free to shoot without reprisal. She saw crossbowmen searching the darkness for her, but none had spotted her yet. And given the choice between shooting an unseen archer, or the beasts mauling their companions in front of them, they leveled their crossbows at the wolves and boars.
A mighty roar drew Hadde’s attention off to the right. The great bear charged into a group of Idorians, scattering them like leaves in a wind. With no nearby targets, she ran toward the bear hoping to support its attack.
And then she saw Maret. The girl sheltered at the base of a giant oak, the children clutched to her. Hadde’s heart raced at the sight of them. They were so close!
The bear swatted a soldier aside as if he were a bothersome insect. And then it turned and loped in Hadde’s direction. She knew immediately that it wanted Maret to follow, but she didn’t move. She doesn’t understand.
Hadde nocked an arrow. She had so few left, and they were all light, flight arrows. There were a few more war arrows on Quickstep, but hardly enough to matter, and no time to get them anyway. She loosed her arrow at a crossbowman, the pain in her side so fierce she couldn’t help the tears streaming from her eyes. She couldn’t manage a full draw.
The bear turned and charged a swordsman. Hadde loosed two more arrows in quick succession. Both hit but failed to punch through the Idorian’s armor. She had to get closer.
Two wolves raced by, launching themselves at crossbowmen. In the distance she was vaguely aware of the sound of terrified horses. The wolves had to be among them. Don’t attack the horses! I need you here.
Hadde stopped and loosed another arrow. She was dangerously close to the Idorians. Even with their terrible night vision, they had to be able to see her. The pain so severe she could barely draw, Hadde loosed again.
Maret was so close! The bear fought on, but wounded now. Hadde reached to her quiver. Three more arrows. Three arrows to drive off the Idorians, and then she would run to Maret and the children and lead them to freedom.
A cheer went up from somewhere beyond Maret. Near where Calen would be. She spotted Calen sprinting down the slope, back to where the horses were hidden. Three horsemen pursued him, one ahead of the others.
Hadde nocked an arrow. A long shot. She could hit the horseman and help Calen escape, but at what cost? This was her chance to save Maret and the children. She turned away from him, hoping he would escape.
Hadde drew and aimed at a crossbowman targeting the bear. Her flight arrow struck the Saladoran in the face, the arrow passing through his cheek and into his throat. He stumbled b
ack, clutching at the arrow. She pulled another arrow from her quiver and strode forward, closer to Maret.
A terrific blow struck Hadde’s shoulder, spinning her and toppling her to the forest floor. The leather fletching of a bolt stuck out from just under her collarbone. She stared at it in disbelief as the world spun around her.
There was no pain. Just a huge weight, a terrible pressure where the bolt impaled her. Another bolt struck the ground next to her.
They will come for me now. They will kill me.
Hadde struggled to her feet and stumbled down the slope. Away from Enna. Her baby she had failed to rescue. And now I’ll die.
She heard shouting behind her and ran faster, but her feet wouldn’t follow her commands. Hadde fell to her knees, but used Talon as a staff and pushed herself up. I still have my bow. My useless bow. But she couldn’t drop it. Who was she without a bow?
A boar charged past her toward the Idorians. It would die like the rest. When was the last wolf-howl she had heard? Were they all dead? The Great Spirit’s attack was failing. In a few hours the Idorians would ride free.
Hadde risked a glance over her shoulder as she ran. The boar had knocked one pursuer down, but two others stabbed at it with their swords. The boar’s attack gave her time to disappear into the forest. But what good would it do? There would be no recovering from this wound.
The pain came now. Pounding the bolt as if it were a peg being struck by a mallet. The pain tore at her, making her dizzy. She stumbled and slowed.
Would Calen be there? She regretted not using her last arrows to protect him. He had finally come through for her, and she had not saved him.
Helna! She wanted to stop and rest. The pain was too much. But it was just a few steps further. She couldn’t give up. She jogged another ten strides and then leaned against the trunk of a tree to catch her breath. The boar was dead and the Idorians raced toward her. And there were more horsemen. The Idorians had kept horses ready in case they were attacked.
Hadde pushed herself off the tree and ran further into the forest. The pain in her shoulder was unbearable. There were shouts in front of her, a cry of pain, and then the thunder of hooves riding off.