by H. A. Harvey
The situation was made more grim by the fact that not a single scout had managed to report back from the Crescent Ledge. This almost assuredly indicated that any retreat was cut off. The discussion had taken the dark turn of deciding upon how to make a last stand. The walls would multiply their strength, and with enough well-equipped mercenaries spread along the Clockward wall, they might resist the heavy infantry for a time. Yet, while the wolf packs were committed to staying if ordered, their number made up less than a third of the army’s mercenary force, and the likelihood of desertion or defection would be high, especially when placed against the strongest force.
Kaiden had suggested riding out against the smaller force on the Gateward road and attempting to punch through with a daring charge. Adair had pointed out that the captain could barely stand, much less lead a charge. The regular troops would be unlikely to follow the lead of mercenaries, and Malor was both exhausted and ill-liked. This left Lancer Covin to lead the charge, but the spoiled noble was against the idea of the charge, instead wanting to try to slip a messenger to Whitebay and inform his uncle of their predicament while they held out on the walls. Kaiden had been quick to point out that Malor was in no condition to spirit anyone past the enemy lines, and any force capable of facing the horde before the walls would take a month at least to raise, and another to march so far from Whitebay. By that time, the matter of Broadstone would be settled one way or the other.
Covin had been just as quick to say they should try sending him anyway. The heavy silence that followed indicated that the others thought about as much of Covin as Autumn did. She pondered to herself how men like him came to be so respected, while noble hearts like Adair and Nian were so often brushed aside. She turned and looked out the window at their approaching doom. The light of Phoenix shone straight down on the plain outside, and the forces were drawing close enough that she could make out individual shapes in the dark tide. If they did not decide something soon, there would be no choice to make but hold to the bitter end. Autumn gave a bitter inward laugh as it occurred to her that she would really rather not die surrounded by cold stone, and for the first time in recent memory, wished she could see a wild grove one more time. Her reflection was interrupted as she saw a shape break from the rear heavy infantry group and make rapid progress across the plain toward the city.
“A rider,” Autumn spoke softly, almost to herself, but in the weighted silence all eyes turned to her. “From the Kadis forces. I think he has a banner of truce.”
The Alphas and Covin were at the windows in a heart’s beat. Thankfully, Adair joined her at the window, rather pointedly barring the cowardly noble from pressing against her to see the rider. Kaiden even forced himself from bed and shambled over to watch the messenger’s approach. He gazed through the window for only a moment before turning and heading to the door as he called hoarsely for his armor and a mount.
Autumn made her way quickly to the city wall, reaching it well before the captain’s horse was ready. The Baedite rider had reigned in short of bow range and sat with a white strip of cloth unfurled at the end of his spear. She saw Captain Kaiden ride out from the Clock gate, Axios stalking next to him, still a head taller than the mounted captain. The two soldiers travelled out to the waiting messenger and spoke only briefly. The Baedite drew something from his saddle bag and held it out. Axios took the item, examined it briefly in an open palm, then passed it to the captain. The rider nodded and rode back to rejoin his forces as the captain rode back slowly.
Kaiden was reading a small scroll when Autumn met him in the keep’s courtyard. Malor and Covin walked out to meet them, and Axios stood solemnly by for a moment. When Covin moved over to stand next to Autumn, the ogre seemed to note some discomfort in her posture and also stepped to her side. Autumn happily leaned against the brute’s leg and gave the noble brat her best icy flat stare. Covin cleared his throat and went to help the enfeebled captain from his horse. Autumn thought she heard what seemed like a bemused chuckle from Axios.
“The Baron of Kadisvale is apparently marshal of the army we find approaching the gates.” Kaiden explained as he steadied himself against the horse’s side. “He offers terms for our surrender.”
“Begging your pardon, captain.” Covin inserted, “But perhaps something of this weight should be discussed without mercenaries present.”
Covin gave Autumn a condescending glance and smirked. She was just weighing consequence and reward of wiping his face on the stones when Axios saved her the trouble. The ogre ‘tapped’ his heel on the cobbled ground, giving a shock that shook dust from the nearby wall and caused Kaiden’s horse to shy.
“She’z shed an’ bled more blud fer Tyre den yer ever like ta do.” Axios growled, “Less youz want me ta helpz ya ketch ‘er a bit, she stayz an’ you shud yer mout.”
“Autumn has my confidence, Covin.” Kaiden said as he steadied himself a second time. “The terms are put thus: His men will have the city encircled by dusk, and his siege engines constructed by dawn. If we, my officers and I, are standing with the spy out where his messenger met us at first light and surrender, then our troops will be given leave to pass on foot out of the city after laying down arms. If we are not there, or offer any resistance, they will give no quarter.”
“Wez ken charge ‘em now.” Axios growled, “Youz ride trough dem Gateward lot. I go rough up da tin men an’ showz duh Baron wut quarterin’ lukz loike.”
“Against five hundred heavy infantry?” Kaiden sighed, “Axios, few have as much faith in your mettle as I do, but you would never reach the Baron. Especially since you are already wounded from last night’s fray.”
“It makez fer a gud end tryin’.” The ogre returned flatly.
“When you were twenty and a raw recruit, perhaps.” The captain countered, “But you are an officer now, and an officer cannot have a good end by sacrificing men he doesn’t have to. As for the Gateward charge, the condition Malor and myself are in, we held no hope of surviving such a maneuver. The only appeal was the chance of a few men getting through and returning to Tyre, though the road would likely be far from short or easy.”
“And with the Spireward gate still broken,” Malor added, “Holding the city past the first day would be a miracle. That plan too, was more fanciful than realistic. It seems that the decision won’t take till dawn.”
Autumn felt Axios’ muscles tense as she leaned against him. She stood away a step, bracing for the fight that was likely to come next. She knew an Orc would not willingly surrender when even a foolish chance for a real fight lay before him. This would be especially true of the idea of surrendering to Baeden, whose hatred for Orcs guaranteed a long and humiliating execution. The others would have to kill Axios here or die trying if they hoped to surrender and save the troops.
Then things shifted suddenly in an unexpected direction. His attention perhaps drawn by her stepping away from his side, Axios glared down at Autumn. As she watched, the features of his face relaxed, and he unclenched his fists. After a moment, he turned to face Kaiden again and nodded silently.
Autumn at once felt both relieved and sick to her stomach. She had been dreading the choice between supporting the more prudent side, which she knew Adair would have done, or helping Axios who had fought by her side and saved her life just hours ago. Still, she felt sick in knowing that it had to be that same bond that had led the ogre to resign quietly to his fate. He didn’t give a rabbit’s carcass about the hundreds of men and women who he surely viewed had a duty to fight and die for Tyre, but for some reason, he was willing to forgo his glorious death to purchase Autumn more life.
“It is settled then,” Kaiden nodded as he dropped his hand from the hilt of his sword in obvious relief. “Get some rest. I will have the sergeants pass word for the men to assemble at the Gateward exit of the city by dawn.”
Malor and Covin both withdrew into the keep as the captain forced himself into a commanding posture and a
pproached the guards at the gate. In a moment, only Autumn and Axios stood in the deserted courtyard. Axios turned without saying a word and headed toward the stables. Autumn started towards the keep but paused. She turned and jogged to catch up with Axios at the stable door.
“Why?” She asked simply.
“Cause,” Axios replied, “Iz got a legund arreddy. Youz iz a gud fighter, tuff an’ stubbern loike an Orc. Dere won’ be songs ‘bout wut happenz ‘morro. Youz zervez a chance ta make a legund.”
Autumn couldn’t think of anything to say in response. She wasn’t sure there were words for such a thing, so she reached out and laid her slender hand over one of Axios’ bulging, knobby knuckles. The ogre paused and looked down at her hand briefly, then tugged his hand away.
“Gerroff me.” Axios grumbled without real force, “No cause ta go actin’ loike a weepy gurl.”
Autumn watched the surly ogre shamble into the stable and flop down with a crash in the corner. Her first instinct was to go in and sit with him for a while, but he seemed to want to be alone. Instead, she headed into the keep and wandered the dim corridors of cold stone until the light outside had faded away. Already, most of the soldiers had withdrawn to the city gates. There would be no more attacks or need for a guard tonight, and most wanted to ensure they were not left behind at dawn.
Eventually, Autumn wandered past the captain’s door. She paused and considered knocking to see if he felt like talking, but decided against it when she heard soft sounds of snoring through the door. Walking on, she came to the keep’s small library where Malor had taken up quarters. The door was open and light streamed through, so she decided to look in on the wizard. She saw him standing at the Gateward window in bare feet. He held one of his black boots in his hand and a dingy rag in the other, rubbing it idly in short, straight strokes as he gazed out the window. Autumn gave a soft knock at the door to get his attention.
“Are you busy?” Autumn asked.
“Extremely so,” Malor replied curtly without turning from the window. He looked exhausted again, as though the rest from his nap earlier had drained away from him again and he had not slept since. “Shouldn’t you be mustering at the Gateward edge of the city?”
“I have time,” Autumn shrugged, “It looks like you’re polishing your boots . . . and doing it wrong.”
“And how would you know how a wizard polishes his boots?” Malor countered with his typical superior air.
“It’s animal fat and leather stain,” Autumn replied curtly, “Not much magic there.”
Malor set his boot down next to its mate, both had a garishly excess amount of polish on them, and the short strokes had left lines crisscrossing their surface in a chaotic pattern. He beckoned Autumn over to the window and she warily complied.
“There is magic in everything, nymph.” He stated philosophically, “None know this to be true more than a wizard. Every person and stone is a varied mix of the twelve energies of the Wheel of Creation.”
“So you are using magic polish?” Autumn asked doubtfully.
“No more magic than the stuff anyone else uses.” The wizard replied, “In fact, I borrowed the can from one of the Tyrian riders. My point was that it is important to watch seemingly mundane things for subtle meaning. Look out the window at the Gateward peak back towards Tyre.”
Autumn looked and caught a quick gasp as she saw a lonely flame burning atop a lower peak of the mountain. She squinted to see across the distance, but could make out no shapes moving near the fire.
“I caught sight of it just before dusk.” Malor explained, “I thought at first it could be some mountaineer caught too high before dark, but the wind on that ledge must have made the fire very difficult to light, and the placement is odd as well, away from any cliff that could throw its light broader, and back from the front of the ledge so I imagine those down in the valley can’t see its presence as we can from here.”
“The Wheelward scouting party?” Autumn asked, “Perhaps with a way out?”
“Perhaps, but we could hardly move six hundred men along a mountain trail in a single night, and we are already encircled.” Malor reminded her, “While it may also be our scouts, there is another explanation that occurred to me after night fell. The maid Ourei referred to her farm boy as ‘a light in the darkness’ when she insisted I aid his quest. I think my pupil may have been more perceptive than her master in this case.”
“Wait, you said Nian was dead.” Autumn was eager enough at this news that she forced herself to ignore Malor’s insistence upon calling him a farm boy and even that he called Nian Ourei’s.
“I said I didn’t see him.” Malor corrected, “I’d assumed he’d gotten himself killed, but now I am in the process of forming another opinion.”
“And what is that?”
“That Ourei had reasons for selecting her champion beyond simple rustic charm. Reasons she saw fit not to reveal directly to me.” Malor continued, “I think there is more in store for us tomorrow than a quiet surrender.”
“He’s not her champion, damn it.” Autumn finally had to object out loud.
“No indeed.” Malor agreed, though seemingly oblivious to her sense of outrage. “If I am right, his mistress is significantly more powerful.”
“Wait, what do you mean?”
“What I mean,” Malor echoed impatiently, “That we should be prepared for something unexpected tomorrow. And with that in mind, I myself am making preparations. Though unless Ourei’s little hero springs whatever he has in store earlier, I shall wait until you are all clear of the Baeden forces before acting.”
Autumn shook her head and stormed out of the library. Relief at learning Nian may still be alive was mingled with an unfamiliar rage toward the wizard’s apprentice, whoever she was. Her steps brought her to a halt in front of a large manor house out in the city. An old elm stood shading the yard with its dark canopy.
It had been years since she’d sought solace with the ancients, but as she felt her Fae blood boil with maddening emotion, threatening to drown her, she found herself hopping over the wrought-iron fence and leaning against the tree. She relaxed and felt the living wood draw her in and surround her, cooling her blood and driving off all fleeting surface thoughts. Within the ancient, there was no place for mercurial feelings. As her being melded with the tree, it became hard to tell where she ended and it began. Anger, pride, foolish doubt, drifted away and only the deep parts of her remained. She felt her toes surrounded by the moist, cool earth, and there was Adair who taught her, protected her, and loved her as a daughter. She felt the soft night breeze sway her back and forth, like Creation itself rocking her in gentle arms. There were her wolves whom she guided and protected and would die for. She felt the subtle touch starlight bathing her limbs in its comforting brilliance. And then, there was Nian. Why he was there, she couldn’t say, though she didn’t try. An elm does not wonder why a branch curves this way or that. It only knows that it does. He was alive. This much she knew, and it was enough.
When Autumn finally emerged from the elm, it was nearly dawn. The stars had faded from the night sky and the air had taken on the bitter chill that preceded the first light of the opening gates. Autumn felt better. More than better, she felt renewed, centered and focused. All that was important to her was leaving on the Gateward road in a few minutes, and somewhere beyond the wall of spears was Nian. She checked over her gear and ran down the darkened streets to meet the rest of the Longstriders.
. . .
The mountain air hung crisp and cold about Malor. Captain Kaiden stood nearby on the street with Covin and Axios flanking him. The Ogre had Penn flung casually over his shoulder. The two Humans seemed to have left their swords elsewhere, and as Malor strode up, Axios drove his heavy blade at least two feet into the cobblestone at the center of the gateway. Malor had to laugh slightly at the stubborn bravado of the Ogre.
“Leaving you
r mark on the city?” He asked idly.
“Dey’ll knowz who wuz here.” Axios glowered back, “An’ hafta digz it out ta move it.”
“Enough,” Kaiden said impatiently, “The gates are opening, and it will be light in moments. Let us go.”
Axios reached over the captain’s head and swung out one side of the heavy gate. The four commanders marched steadily out onto the field before the city wall. Malor wrapped his robes tighter around him against the cold air. Grey light began to leak over the horizon and creep its way across the stony valley. The tinted lighting illuminated the plain, but left it devoid of color. The effect was oppressively bleak. Surrounding the city stood an unending ring of footmen brandishing long spears in a glinting picket line whose only breach was the wall of iron where the Kadis infantry stood. A party of riders was allowed passage through the heavy infantry and headed out to meet them.
As he walked along, Malor cast a glance over his shoulder at the ledge he had spied the night before. The fire had died out hours ago, but he could still mark the slight peak and saddle where it had been. The young wizard’s gaze was drawn up to the sky, blanketed in inky black clouds hovering so low he almost felt he could reach up and trail his fingers through them. The thick cloud cover indicated this was about as bright as the morning was likely to get, and every possibility of ending in a downpour.
The riders reined their horses as they drew within earshot. Malor saw the gold-trimmed tack and voluminous dress of rich fur the central rider wore, set off by a bright steel helm covering his face save for the peppered beard jutting out from beneath. He guessed this was the Baron. To his right was a powerfully built Dracis with black and rust hued scales, his natural armor covered by a fine hauberk of steel scale armor. Across his back was a wicked-looking pole-blade and his right arm bore a large ovoid shield, likely steel as well but painted black with a stylized drake upon its face. Malor guessed this was the general.