Wrath of the Usurper (The Eoriel Saga Book 2)

by Kal Spriggs

  “Sergeant?” one man asked, “You okay?”

  Aerion gave him a nod, though he saw spots from the effort. “Never better.” He raised his voice a bit, “Good job, all of you... now start filling that crevice in so it doesn't snag someone else.”

  ***

  Lady Katarina Emberhill

  Katarina dismounted as she came up to the inn. Twilight had long since passed and only the campfires from Third Company and the lanterns from the inn broke the darkness. A pair of soldiers came forward to take her mount as well as that of Bulmor and Eleanor. She nodded to one in gratitude as they led the horses towards the stable and then waited patiently while Bulmor swept into the inn ahead of her. She glanced at Eleanor, “That was... interesting.”

  “Haven't you taken Watkowa Pass before?” Eleanor asked. “You came through here as a child, right?”

  Katarina's eyes narrowed at the memory. “Yes... and I suddenly remember a sharp tongued woman who gave me stew at Watkowa Village as a child.” She shook her head as she realized just how random chance or fate had connected them. “But that was myself and two other riders. Our trip back was the same, except we ran into a blizzard well above treeline and nearly died, but for one of the shelters up in the pass.” She frowned, “I hope my people are restocking what we use from those...”

  “I mentioned it to Arren,” Eleanor answered. “First Company is leaving some of their supplies along with firewood at each of the shelters to restock what we've used.”

  Katarina nodded. She didn't know who used the trail, other than the locals and perhaps some smugglers like the one who had helped her escape the Duchy as a child. “Good,” she said. If nothing else, it might buy a little goodwill, besides being the right thing to do. She absently wondered what had happened to the jolly Tom Wolno. “But coming down out of that pass, at night, behind the damage a hundred men and four heavily laden wagons have done to it...”

  “Worse at the back, I hear,” Eleanor said. “It'll take a lot of attention for them to get down tonight, if it's even possible.”

  Katarina shook her head, “I passed orders back while you scouted ahead with Gerlin. They're to stop until daylight. We've already had enough injuries during the day, not to mention losing that wagon from Third's second section. I don't want to lose a squad or even a whole section because the trail started to give way and no one was able to see the warning signs in the dark.”

  Eleanor nodded, though her face held a level of tension as she thought through the implications. “We're already a bit behind. I take it that Third will load up in the morning?”

  Katarina nodded. It wasn't their best option... but it was their only option. Third Company was their least experienced personnel. They wouldn't even have time for the additional drill here at Ustka Village as they'd originally planned. She wished she and her advisers had thought about how much damage their people would do to the pass, in which case she would have put First out front and made certain her best fighters would be ready to load up. For that matter, she would have left weeks earlier. Then I might not have found out Aerion still lived, she realized, and the warm glow she felt when she thought about him gave her a flutter of uncertainty.

  That uncertainty was something she had to resolve, and soon, she knew. The feelings she had for the young man had not eased with his return from the dead. Quite the opposite, she could admit to herself, I need to find some way to clear my mind and think logically... and I can't do that when I'm thinking about him in every spare moment.

  “Well,” Eleanor said. “I suppose that Third will have to do some drill on the passage down to the Ryftguard.” The tone of her voice suggested she wasn't certain that would be enough. Katarina remembered, then, that her son, Aerion, was in Third, now.

  “They'll have to,” Katarina nodded solemnly.

  Bulmor exited the inn, “It's clear, my Lady.”

  Katarina followed Eleanor inside. The warmth and glow was a stark difference from outside, where the towering Ryft Peaks blocked any slip of light from the east or west and even cut out most light from the stars and Eoria's twin world, Aoria. Most of the village's people had gone into their homes at her people's arrival, other than a handful who had volunteered to join up. She had been a bit surprised by that. The villages along the Ryft were notoriously independent. Most of them were hubs for smuggling and even piracy. Still, they seemed to have a savage hatred for Lord Hector and she had directed them to talk with Captain Bartek.

  Speaking of whom, she thought, as the older man came to his feet and gave her a crisp bow, “My Lady, glad to see you've made it down off the mountains in one piece.”

  “You as well,” Katarina said as she came over to the table. Also on his feet was a young man in the uniform of the Boir Ducal Marines and she saw the glitter of a rank on his collar. He was tall, with dark hair and dark eyes and his skin was tanned from the sun and weather. She thought she remembered him from the battle with the Armen and Norics, where he had commanded Admiral Tarken's ground forces. Katarina gave him a nod, “Lieutenant Steffan, I presume?”

  “Yes, my Lady,” He gave her a nod. His accent, though surprised her, for it had the tone of someone from Masov, rather than Boir. He must have seen some of her confusion, “My family came from Longhaven, my Lady. My father died in service and when Lord Hector moved against Duke Peter... that is your father, my Lady, well...” he shrugged, “My mother's family thought things were too dangerous, especially given how my father died. We moved over to Port Riss.”

  “I see,” Katarina said. Port Riss had been part of the Duchy of Masov only a few cycles previously, she knew. There were many in Masov who remembered how Boir had bribed the Count of Kempen Island. It was also, she had heard, a common place for those fleeing Lord Hector's reign to end up. They were culturally more similar to Masov than the people of Boir... though Port Riss itself had gradually come to resemble Boirton in many ways. “Well,” she said, finally, “I understand that you are to be our... liaison?”

  “Yes, my lady,” Lieutenant Steffan said, quickly. “The Mircea along with a dozen captured Armen sloops are waiting just off shore. We can begin to get your people loaded up and ready to go as soon as first light.”

  “Of course,” she shot a glance at Captain Bartek, but she didn't know how to broach the subject that worried her the most. Expressing a concern about his people's readiness in front of a foreign officer wasn't the best way to approach it, she well knew. “You've heard that our other company will be delayed?”

  Lieutenant Steffan nodded, “I'm afraid we're on a tight schedule at this point. We have no control over the tide and as Lieutenant, that is Captain Gunnar has told me, we have to make the tide.”

  “As I'd heard,” she said, even though she had secretly hoped that he would tell her that there was no rush. She knew better, though, for if any of the small boats or larger merchant ships that used the Ryft noticed her forces camped around Ustka Village along with the Boir Navy vessels, then almost certainly someone would see a profit in passing that information along to the Usurper's men. “Well, Lieutenant, please pass along to Captain Gunnar both congratulations on his promotion as well as the fact that we will be ready to begin loading come first light.”

  Lieutenant Steffan gave her a nod. “Of course, my Lady. Captain Bartek and I have worked out the details already. I'm certain you have much planning to do and I'll leave you to it.”

  He gave her a full bow and started away, before he paused. “My Lady, since I hadn't had time to say this before... I wish you the best of luck both in the coming fight as well as the fight to cast out the Usurper.” He turned and left before she could answer.

  He'd be a fine addition to our people, she thought absently, though Admiral Tarken may not like it if we poached one of his officers. Still, she made a mental note to see if Arren or someone equally smooth at talking would have the time to work with him and open up the idea of signing on. Another officer with recent military experience would be invaluable.

 
She took a seat at the table and cocked an eyebrow at Captain Bartek, “We will be ready in the morning, won't we?”

  He gave her a nod as he took his seat again, though his face wasn't as confident as she'd like. “Yes, my Lady,” he said. “Senior Sergeant Jasen is making certain our soldiers are ready to go at first light, I was just working out the final details with the Lieutenant.”

  “Good,” Katarina said. “Well, I'll let you get to work, Captain. And a fine job of pushing your people so fast down that trail. Gerlin said he wouldn't have given even odds on anyone having made it as quickly as you did.”

  “Thank you, my Lady,” Captain Bartek said with a genuine smile. “Now, if you'll excuse me...”

  She waited until he had left the inn before she cocked an eyebrow at Bulmor. “Can they do it?”

  He gave her a shrug. “Possibly.” The stoic man sat in silent thought for a long moment. Katarina didn't interrupt, she knew that it was a complicated question to ask, one with many variables. “I think we should modify the plan a bit.” His voice was reluctant. “Our most experienced fighters will be two, possibly three days late... other than the ones in your escort.”

  Katarina sat back and raised her eyebrows. “Bulmor, are you actually suggesting that I go in on the attack?” She put just a trace of humor in her question... because she knew if she showed too much he would discard the idea out of pigheaded stubbornness.

  “Yes,” he growled. “Though I'd rather you stayed behind, I think it does present an unique opportunity to build up the confidence of the men in Third.” He shrugged. “Everyone knows they're not the best. Second knows it, First knows it... They know it. It hasn't hurt their morale... much, but it has had an affect. From what I've heard, putting young Swordbreaker down there has stiffened some of them a bit, but they're still...” He trailed off as he looked for the right word.

  “Mushy?” Eleanor asked.

  Bulmor nodded. “There's no reason they can't be solid fighters; but they've been told they're not the best so they don't think of themselves as being good, so they aren't. Does that make sense?”

  Katarina nodded. She had heard, often enough, from her uncle back in Marovingia that willpower and morale had a powerful effect on people. If Third thought of themselves as merely 'okay' then they wouldn't ever rise above that. “So you think me going in with them will, what, encourage them?”

  Bulmor nodded. “It also lets us put your most solid, handpicked fighters from your escort where they'll be effective. Which I hate. I picked them so that they could focus on protecting you... instead they're going to be trying to achieve some goal, which will mean you're going to have to keep an extra eye out.” He gave Eleanor a nod at that, which told Katarina that despite the return of her son from the dead, the woman still viewed Katarina's safety as her primary goal. Which makes it all the more awkward that I need to get a private moment alone with her son, she thought.

  “Well, I suppose that if you insist I can hardly refuse...” Katarina said with a wicked smile.

  Bulmor's glower was one she would treasure. “I hardly insist, but it's the best call to make. I just wish I'd thought about how nasty that pass would be for a small army.”

  “Good thing you've no more than three companies,” Eleanor said calmly. “More than that and it would probably take weeks to get through.”

  Bulmor nodded at that. “My experience is more with small, elite units, no more than a company... and even then I wasn't the commander.” The admission seemed to irritate him, “One more reason that we need more experienced people, so that I can focus on keeping you alive, my Lady.”

  Katarina nodded at that. “I'd prefer that myself, actually.” In many ways, she missed having Gerlin and Bulmor, alone, responsible for her protection. She had grown to trust them, almost exclusively, in the past cycles. No more than a few months had passed since she would awake to find one of them sleeping in front of her door and the other awake on guard. Now, it seemed that Gerlin was constantly out with his scouts and Bulmor was running himself ragged trying to be both military adviser and her bodyguard. She shot a glance at the door through which the Boir Marine Officer had departed. “Have you considered young Lieutenant Steffan?”

  He coughed a bit at that, “I had... though there is the issue of his father.”

  “He died in service, did he not?” Katarina asked.

  Bulmor coughed again and shot a glance at Eleanor, “This is not for... general discussion.” Eleanor gave him a nod and he turned his dark eyes to Katarina. “I'm only aware of this because I was called before Lord Peter when he was told... but the two men who helped Lord Hector to kill his uncle, Lord Estrel, were Sergeant Grel... and Sergeant Steffan.”

  Katarina coughed a bit at that, “Are you serious?”

  Bulmor nodded. “Sergeant Steffan's brother came forward as a witness, but Duke Peter was killed before it went to trial. I'm not terribly surprised that his family decided to flee after that.”

  Katarina chewed her lip a bit. “That... changes things a bit. Still, he can't be favorable towards Lord Hector after that, exactly, can he?”

  Bulmor shrugged, “Regardless, it does become a bit awkward.” He took a deep breath, “He does seem like a good prospect, not least of which is that he seems to miss home... and his testimony about Lord Hector could be a useful weapon to add to your arsenal.”

  She nodded at that, though using the young man for just that purpose made her feel uncomfortable. The officer had what looked to be a promising career in Boir's military. Would giving that up to serve in her rebellion be what was best for him? For that matter, even if it isn't, she thought coldly, is it better for the Duchy of Masov? That was how she needed to think, as she knew from painful experience.

  “Well,” Eleanor said, “On that cheerful note, I think it best that we get some food in her ladyship here and then get off to bed. Tomorrow will be a very busy day... and the day after will be worse.”

  Katarina nodded. In only a couple days they would fight for the Ryftguard. She would lead her weakest company of troops against a company of Lord Hector's most trusted men. If we can pull off that, she thought, then we'll force Hector to take us seriously... and that's the first step in making things right.

  ***

  Sergeant Aerion Swordbreaker

  Aerion cursed again has his head struck a low beam and he stumbled in the dim corridor. He heard a throaty chuckle and turned. He felt a flush climb his cheeks as he saw Lady Katarina behind him.

  She gave him a wave, “My thanks for that, Aerion, I surely would have struck it if you hadn't given me fair warning.”

  Despite himself he chuckled in response. The Armen sloop was low and dark and they were running with few lights aboard to minimize the chances of being spotted. That meant that someone of his height had to stoop painfully low and with his head hung low, he had trouble spotting the beams that hung even lower. “I live to serve, my Lady,” he finally said.

  He heard Bulmor grunt in disapproval behind Lady Katarina and Aerion flushed darker. “Sorry, I should get back to my squad.” He turned and managed to collide, again, with the heavy beam. Aerion ducked low under it, swallowed another curse, and turned and went up the ladder to the open deck. He moved quickly to the railing and leaned over it, suddenly confused and angry.

  I'm such a fool, Aerion thought darkly and not just in regards to the low beams. He knew that he should be thinking about his squad's role in the upcoming attack, but all he could think about was Lady Katarina... and in some ways his thoughts were far from pure.

  “How did the meeting go, Aerion?” Walker's light voice said from nearby.

  Aerion started, for in the diffuse starlight, he hadn't seen his friend in the shadows. “It went well. We've got our orders... a crucial role,” he said. “Can you get the others together so I can brief them?” He pushed his angst back and forced himself to think of his duties... and not about Lady Katarina's gentle smile.

  “Of course,” Walker said. “Five minute
s or so, I assume up by the bow?”

  “Yeah, that will be best,” Aerion said. His squad's assigned section was up near the bow. They had precious little room aboard the vessel in general, between the fifty soldiers, part of Lady Katarina's escort, and the Boir Navy personnel who manned the ship.

  He waited while his friend walked away. Another voice startled him only a moment later. “Aerion.” He turned to find Lady Katarina only a few feet away. Behind her, he saw that Bulmor had moved to stand more than a dozen feet away, in a spot to make certain no one approached.

  Aerion gave a quick bow, “My Lady, I apologize for earlier...”

  She stepped closer and he saw her shake her head in the dim light. “No, it wasn't right of me to laugh... it's just that you seemed so frustrated.” She sighed. “In truth, I need to apologize.”

  Aerion felt his throat swell almost shut. “My lady, you've nothing to apologize for...”

  “I do and we both know it,” Katarina said, her voice low and intent. “What I said to you at Southwatch... it was unfair to you and stupid and selfish of me.” She said the words in a rush and Aerion felt his heart skip a bit as the starlight caught her blue eyes. “It was wrong of me to ask you to ignore your feelings and selfish of me to want you close to me.”

  Aerion bit back his instant reply and instead tried to come to terms with what she had said... and what she hadn't said. She's picked her words very carefully, he thought.

  “We can't be together,” Katarina said and confirmed what Aerion had already realized. She still put the good of the Duchy over what she herself wanted... and Aerion couldn't fault her for that. To be with him would not only be an embarrassment, but it would rob her of a bargaining chip with the other nobles, many of whom would offer her support and alliances in order to put their own bloodline in line for the Ducal Seat.