by Jane Merkley
“We don’t have any drugs, Lord,” remarked Miraha.
“Oh no worries,” Altarn spoke for the first time. “Lord Byrone here has plenty.”
Byrone shot her a brief look before looking back to the group. “I assume this Huilian knows where this piece of his soul is?”
They nodded.
“Then if you speak truth that this army approaches, then my scouts that I have stationed at the border will tell me. They have not arrived yet so I have my doubts that you could have made it here before them.”
“We do not know how we arrived quicker than those on horses,” Miraha defended, “but we speak truth.”
“I suppose we will see when my scouts arrive. But you are tired. Please retire yourselves for the night. My servants will see to your needs.” Byrone faced the fire, one arm against the mantel.
A servant opened the door. The company looked reluctant to leave so soon but the way to further conversation on the matter had been barred. They filed out, the ranger carrying the semiconscious girl. When they were gone, Byrone pushed himself away from the mantel. His eyes appeared to have absorbed the flames because their sharpness danced behind his blue eyes.
“You’re both from Blindvar. What do you make of what they say?”
“There is a place called Fangbor,” Jasper answered. “It is – was – the place worshipers would go to pray to Gildeon. That place is destroyed now. That is where Gildeon landed. We did not know someone else fell from the sky with him until now, if that priestess told the truth. The pillars where Gildeon fell are shattered and a dark omniscience skulks the place. No one, not even creatures of nature, will come close to the place. Even if you don’t believe in the god, you cannot deny that something foreboding befell it.”
Byrone began pacing again and it was another moment before he responded. “For now, I will dismiss their claims of the army approaching until it can be verified by my scouts. I have enough sense not to be swayed by a gaggle of priestesses enamored with a child claiming to be a god. But that is their problem to work out later. I’m going to let the mineral bath sway me right now. I will see you both in the morning.”
And Byrone left with Torren behind him.
Sleeping Arrangements
Byrone pursed his lips when his scouts rode in that morning, their horses lathered in sweat and mud from the rainstorm they had last night. His scouts were chilled to the bone but they stood dutifully in the courtyard as Byrone approached.
“The army is advancing,” the lead reported. “At a steady pace. We’ve ridden hard for three days so I imagine they are another three behind us if they keep the same pace.”
“So tell me, then, how a sixteen year old boy, a mentally unstable girl, and three priestesses made it here on foot before you and told us the exact same thing?”
The lead bunched his brows together and looked at his equally confused men. One shrugged and shook his head.
“Think upon it at least.” Byrone looked past them to the distance they had just come from as if he could spy the enemy already. “Refresh and comfort yourselves so you can join me tonight. We will be marching to meet them.”
“Yes, Lord.”
Servants materialized to care for the horses. The scouts strode in a muddy cluster up the stairs.
The rest of the day was a rushing cacophony of scared, unseasoned soldiers and children as everything that had legs moved to repair, clean, and pack gear onto everything else that had wheels.
As many horses as could be found were drafted to pull wagons which were quickly filled with tents, food, armor, weapons, and medical supplies.
The families would remain in the refugee camp and it was a hard thing for Altarn to watch as soldier husbands peeled away from clinging wives and crying children, and soldier wives peeling away from clinging children and crying husbands. Shorns demanded swiftness and agility to work effectively. The vast majority of her shredders were females.
By nightfall they were ready. A monstrous groan echoed about the field as wagons lurched forward and horses cried from the unaccustomed pull. So much happened so quickly that Altarn had not felt the impact of it yet. Byrone did not consult her about how the two armies would move out together. He took it upon himself to see to those details. But it was just as well. He was doing a better job at it all than she could and knew she would just get in the way or fumble trying to do it. So she let him. So it was curious to her that he had someone construct a hasty, large wooden box with a door on the side and had it put in the back of a wagon by itself. She wondered briefly to its purpose but was quickly distracted by all the noise and movements as soldiers trudged together among the wagons. She was impressed how quickly they had thrown everything together. They had received the news at sunrise and just at sundown, wagons were packed, gear was equipped, and a general energy hovered about to feed upon.
It did mean an entire night of no sleep, however. The ride with just the six of them to the place they were going took half a day, but it would take longer with most everyone on foot. Enough wagons had been acquired that soldiers took turns sleeping and walking. Altarn had so many sleepless nights already that it bothered her little… except when she found herself falling asleep in the saddle. She side-glanced Byrone up ahead and mildly thought of how nice it would be to take a nap in his saddle. But the thought was super mild. So mild that she yawned and the thought was sucked into a void where all her unpleasant thoughts went to die.
The constant motion of the march caused Torren’s horse to eventually ride even with Altarn’s. She hadn’t had any dealings with the man, except the first one where she broke his elbow. He likewise appeared to escape her presence at every chance, but riding next to each other tonight, neither of them minded so much anymore. His arm was still in the sling and she wondered exactly what position he planned to participate in. But his shield was on his back and he was wearing his sword on his right hip. She hoped he was at least left handed.
Jasper caught up to her on her left.
“I’m falling asleep,” he said. “Do you know of any funny stories?”
Altarn smiled because she, too, was tired and in fact had a funny story about their time while in the army together. This occupied their wakefulness as they shared stories back and forth of their shared time in the army, of her school before the army, and of the interesting quirks Blindvar’s previous Lord had when Jasper was commissioned to guard him.
Sometime later, Byrone called for a halt and commanded his medical team to unload and set up their medical tents. The time was brief because they had a wagon all to themselves and soon the march was on again.
Two miles out from there, the sun rose and warmed their faces. Coming upon the crest of a hill, Byrone barked, “BREAK!” and soldiers dropped to the ground in brief relief for a moments rest before they would have to unload and set up. Altarn almost fell off her horse in relief with them.
Altarn could barely keep her eyes open and would have gladly slept on the ground right there beneath her horse, but Byrone leapt out of his saddle and continued to bark at his men to get the carts unloaded and the horses taken care of. He didn’t even look tired.
Altarn numbly followed his example, riding down the train of carts to echo Byrone’s orders, adding her own encouragement that the faster they unloaded and set up their tents, the faster they could sleep. She was so tired her body hurt. She marveled at how Byrone seemed to shrug of sleep like he had just shrugged off his coat, like it was something he could put on and take off at will.
The rising sun brought its own chill, but it only seemed to energize the soldiers and within three hours, the camp was set to Byrone’s specifications enough to where he shouted, “REST!” and the word was echoed among the thousands that were assembled there.
There were not enough tents for everyone to sleep in, but no good soldier would complain at the chance to get some much needed sleep and was just as content to curl in his blanket on the ground and close his eyes.
Altarn wondered briefl
y where she would sleep. She eyed the dirt at her feet with a strange new appreciation.
“Altarn!” Byrone was waiving at her in front of a tent. As soon as he had her attention, he disappeared inside.
Altarn followed with marked hesitation, slowly edging her way into his tent. She stood halfway through the entrance. He looked at her and pointed at one of the two cots set up on opposite sides of the tent.
“That one is yours.” He sat down on his cot and started yanking off his boots.
“You are estranged if you think I am going to sleep in the same room as you. It is already too much I have to sleep in the same state.”
He looked up at her, one boot in one of his hands. “Don’t make yourself feel important by thinking you are desirable to look at or even to touch. Because you are not. We are both in command of an army and we cannot communicate if you are on the next ridgeline over. We do not have enough tents for you to have one to your self-deserving self. However, if you still think you are a princess, you are welcome to sleep outside. If you miss my wake up call, I will move on without you and you’ll have to accept whatever reason I make up to explain to your troops why you are absent. It could be entertaining.” Byrone looked away so as not to honor her by noticing her seething glare.
He pulled his sweaty shirt over his head and tossed it in a corner where it almost crawled away. He started fiddling with his belt and Altarn turned around, not sure how far he was going to undress. Seemingly long gone from such things anymore now days, she pulled off her own boots and then looked about awkwardly as she tried to decide how to take the rest off in privacy. But the room was bare except for the two cots and a wagon bed turned upside down for a table.
Byrone folded himself inside a wool blanket and rested his head on another one he bunched into a pillow. His next breath was a heavy snore.
She waited another moment to make sure he was asleep, then undressed to her undergarments, not anxious to put her dirty clothes back on in the morning and even more troubled as to how she would do it if he was going to be awake at the same time.
The sun glowed on the sides of the tent. She pulled a clean sock out of her bag and wrapped it around her head over her eyes and she, too, was asleep.
As promised, Byrone woke Altarn up by throwing a boot at her. She jerked awake with an angry growl and pulled the sock off her eyes. By tell of the shadows in the tent, she had slept only four hours.
“Why so early?” she moaned, and rolled over with every intent to continue the sleep. This earned her his second boot and she whirled around angrily to find Byrone shrugging into his pants.
“You can’t be discreet and warn me when you dress or undress so I can look away?”
“Welcome to soldiery.” He pulled yesterday’s shirt, which had not managed to flee the tent during the course of their nap, over his head. “I do not have the resources to separate males and females so they share sleep and hygiene tents. They are also more likely to miss out on information if they sleep separate because most strategies are discussed in depth while soldiers are playing cards on their beds. Look away if you want, but no soldier here has time to spare gawking at the opposite sex.”
Altarn grumbled and flung the blanket off her. Fact was, he was almost dressed and if he made it out of the tent before her then she would be victim to one of his glamorous reasons why she was not present when he spoke to the troops.
Whether he looked or not, she didn’t know because she kept her back to him. She dressed quickly so she finished just as he was buckling on his sword.
They left together to the food tent where fruits, vegetables, and hard bread were open in crates for the taking. Barrels of water and wooden cups gave them something to wash down the food. Again in silence, they moved to where the troops had erected small, two man tents in neat rows. Altarn had clung to just enough of her waking senses to remember where Jasper had set up his tent.
“Captain Jasper!” she said in a loud whisper, trying not to wake the surrounding tents.
“Hmm?” A bleary eyed face appeared and he had to squint because of the harshness of the sun.
“War council. Gather the sergeants and court members and meet me on the hillcrest with Byrone. No delay.”
“Yes’m.” He scrubbed his face with his palms to encourage wakefulness.
Altarn joined Byrone on the crest looking down on the intended battlefield. She felt as if she had barely slept. That was true, in part, but Byrone’s eyes were alert and his rigid stance made him look as if he wasn’t participant to such inconveniences. He truly either did not need sleep or he was a remarkable liar.
His council members joined them, each rubbing their eyes and looking as if they were startled to find themselves there. Altarn’s members arrived right after and Jasper was doing a fine job at pretending he was awake. Perseth was already asleep.
“Our enemy is on the move toward us,” Byrone began. “My scouts who have gone ahead will tell me by bird when the enemy is twelve hours out. If my scouts who reported their coming first calculated correctly, we have roughly a day and a half left to gather strength and mentally prepare. We have a contestable army and a strategic location so everything possible is in our favor. The girl called Lorn will be placed right where we are standing to beckon the army up this way. The lad who calls himself Gildeon…” Byrone rolled his eyes, “and the priestesses have reassured me they will take care of her so she will no longer be our concern after she is placed. They’ve promised me that Huilian will be handled so our job is to kill the enemy surrounding him.”
Byrone sighed heavily, exhausted. “I feel as if I’m fighting a child’s nightmare talking of fallen angels and gods. Tell your troops to sleep and eat as much as possible but to be ready to form up in a moment’s notice. I will sound the horn when it is time to form up. You are dismissed.”
The council members shuffled away… back to bed, Altarn imagined, which is where she found herself shortly after, undressing and sliding into bed and only vaguely aware Byrone had done the same. He was asleep before she was.
Several more hours later, Altarn woke significantly refreshed. Byrone was still dead to the world and she dressed, slipping out of the tent to prevent disturbing the bear.
She quenched her hunger and thirst at the food tent along with other soldiers who had likewise aroused. It was mid evening and fairly warm, though clouds looking like white cotton balls in the distance were slowly rolling toward them.
Snow.
It would slick the slight incline and get into eyes, but Altarn preferred snow over ran. Snow was warm.
She walked down the aisles of tents and smiled at the soldiers playing cards, poking at small fires, telling stories. They waived back and she had to wonder if she had achieved earning their respect. She doubted any one of them would jump off a cliff if she asked, but then they did trust her that she would never ask.
It began snowing gently when the clouds clawed over the sun. Not enough to make a great bother but more soldiers did retreat into their tents.
Altarn, Byrone, Torren, Jasper, and their respected councilmen clustered around the wagon box in Altarn’s tent, nit picking the map, finalizing exact movements, times, signals, and trying to discover any unseen weaknesses. Altarn couldn’t help but wonder that all this perfect planning was going to waste because on the field of battle, every perfectly thought over variable changed and the commander is forced to adapt to a new set of rules. Altarn would rather stress to her soldiers how to think for themselves and how to make the best decision if faced with an option they had not planned for, instead of making sure they knew the hand and arm signal for right flank.
Perseth was wrapped in a wool blanket, looking as if no one had warned him that being baron also meant helping command the army in a time of war. The other man whose name she had forgotten again, looked exhilarated and was eating up everything they were saying. He looked more suited for a soldier than a baron. Altarn then saw that he had acquired a sword. Her barons were not required to
fight in combat, but if this young baron had the desire to kill something, she thought she’d much rather have him do it here than in court.
It was fortunate they had this girl to bait the army in. Byrone had been warned that Lorn would go crazy the closer Huilian came to her. Because of this, he had built that hasty wooden cage Altarn had seen earlier and she would be confined in it to prevent her from harming innocent bystanders.
The council left and Altarn and Byrone returned to their cots. They laid in silence and Altarn was just falling pleasantly away when Byrone’s deep voice drifted over to her.
“I hope you have made peace with the price you’ll pay for my help in reclaiming your state.”
Altarn pressed her palms over her ears but his threat echoed inside her head.
I could smother you right now. She chased the sound of his voice in her head around with that dark thought. But you are much stronger and could just push me off.
Poison? She had none. With the heavy way he slept she could cut his throat, except she’d be first suspect. She figured she could make it look like his sword fell on him, but how and why he would hang it unsheathed above his head attached to the tent wall would cause for awkward questions, and she was a terrible liar.
She rolled over and he was asleep. To war with him, then? Did she actually owe him anything in payment? His army was larger and Luthsinia would not aid, not even for something as obvious as this encroaching battle. She would lose the war against him. Would the act of trying be worth it? Would her people want to fight or would they rather choose to live under a different government? There would be many casualties and Byrone would still win.
Worries punched her. The war king was sleeping ten feet away and she could do nothing to stop him. She said a prayer that night that he would die in battle.
The Fifth Peace