She stabbed a short sword into the scabbard on her belt, then dropped a knife down each boot. A thin rapier, the length of her short forearm, tucked down the back of her shirt. Then, grabbing two half-length spears, she thumped their butts on the ground and clicked her heels.
“What are your orders?" she asked briskly.
“Do… whatever you think is best? Hell, Bette, don’t ask me for battle advice.” He strode away in the same direction the soldiers had run. “But if I was going to offer it, it would run along the lines of ‘don’t get killed’!”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Garrett eyed the sudden influx of soldiers Bette had sent. It was a bad sign—the worst kind of sign. Whatever they had been preparing for the last few days was here.
“Lilly,” he said to the girl next to him. “Remember what we talked about?”
She nodded. “You want me to do it now, don’t you?” She shivered, scared of what was coming, but embraced her magic. Her eyes turned green.
Garrett beckoned to Sharne. “Fuck the guard, I want you lot on the wall! No point watching those bastards waltz on in. Go on, get to it!”
“Aye, Captain!” They deposited their weapons into one of the barrels at the guardhouse, then scurried off to find Francis.
Atop the small tower—the wall wasn’t nearly as high as he liked, but damned if he was stupid enough to ask for a guard tower that would make him a sitting duck—he scanned the forest outside the little town. All was quiet.
“Anything yet?" he murmured.
He prayed this would work. When he had suggested to Bastian that Lilly and her bird could act as scouts, Bastian hadn’t exactly embraced the idea. In fact, the words ‘stupid and dangerous’ may have passed his lips.
Thankfully, Garrett had the foresight to ask in front of Lilly herself, and once she had gotten the idea in her head, there was no dissuading her.
Lilly grunted. “Tarchus was eating. He didn’t want me to interrupt him, and now he’s being a jerk. He’ll do it, though. He can tell something is in the air, and he wants to know, too.”
A flock of birds erupted from the trees, squawking and flapping their way over the town. Garrett shuddered. Whatever had scared them was scaring him, too.
Cries behind him heralded Bette and Danil’s arrival. He called out to catch their attention. “Up here!”
The three climbed the rickety tower and crowded onto the narrow platform. It didn’t run the full length of the wall, but gave a good vantage point for some spear throwers and lookouts.
“What’s going on?” Garrett asked.
“We’re about to find out,” Danil panted. He looked like he had been running. “Lilly? What are you doing here?”
“I’m a lookout, Danil! Tarchus is flying now… oh.” Her smile dropped away and her face paled. “There’s an army coming.”
Lilly looked at the sky, green eyes sparkling as she read the images sent by the bird. “Tarchus thinks they’re slow and ugly, but there are a lot of them. More than a pack, closer to a herd. They ride horses with broken spirits, and they sparkle like the stones his wife-bird uses in their nest.”
Garrett shot Danil a look. “It’s an army,” Danil explained. “On horseback, with shiny armor, by the sound of it. I can see the images in her head, but the bird has distorted them, and I can’t really understand the details.”
“It’s because he’s distracted,” Lilly said. “He wants to go look at the other humans.”
“What other humans?” Bette asked warily.
“Running behind. They are a pack—not as many, and they work together well. Tarchus says… he says one is like me! And there are two more, walking slow. Oh, they’re safe!” Lilly’s eyes danced with excitement.
Danil broke into a grin. “I see them. It’s Julianne and Marcus, but they’re miles behind the army. Lilly, get Tarchus to fly back so I can get a sense of the distance.”
Lilly nodded absently. The two stood, side by side, one with green eyes and one with white. Lilly’s eyelids drooped as she slipped into the bird’s head. Danil’s did the same as he watched inside Lilly’s. Though he couldn’t communicate with the bird directly, he could see the images conveyed to Lilly and translate them for everyone else.
“They won’t make it here until dark,” Danil said. “With luck, they won’t attack until morning. I wouldn't bank on it, though.”
Garrett clicked his tongue. He really could have used a few extra days to prepare for this, but wasn’t that always the case in battle?
“We’ll be ready,” Bette said with a giant grin.
“Lass, I know yer excited, but could ye please not look so happy ta start a fight that might get me head separated from me shoulders?” Garrett asked her.
“Bah, if that happened, I’d never forgive ye. Ye’d bloody deserve it for bein’ in a stupid place at a stupid time, though, so no great loss.” Bette planted one of her spears down, tip first, and leaned on it comfortably.
“No great—ach, ye nasty wench. No loss except the bloody hundreds of enemies I’d have taken down with me wee sword!” Garrett said with a scowl.
“Hundreds? If yer dumb enough ta die at the start, I’d wager ye wouldn’t have taken out more than six on yer own anyway!”
“Yer a cheeky bitch. Wanna make a wager?”
“Hey, wait a bitch-damned minute, you two,” Danil interjected. “No betting against each other—not unless you do it properly. I’ll put my whole purse on Bette, hands down.”
From below, a shout filtered up. “Hey, boys, the rearick are gonna face off against an army! They’re taking wagers!”
That caused a commotion and soon, the chatter grew.
“My money’s on the girl!”
“Yeah, I’ll drop two gold coins on Bette.”
“Alrighty then, lads! See Mack over there, drop your coins off. Five to one odds that Bette beats Garrett, sound fair!”
The chorus of agreement cause Garrett’s blood to rise. Ok, so those odds might be fair, but at least half of those men betting against him were his!
“Pipe down ye bastards! If yer gonna make me feel like a useless twat, can ye do it where I can’t hear ye?" he bellowed down.
Laughter exploded and the betting frenzy increased. Bette pressed her lips together, but couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Best ye show ‘em up, rearick, or ye’ll never live it down.”
“Aye,” Garrett said morosely. “Yer lucky I’m not a lesser man, or I’d ask ye ta throw a few kills my way.”
“Yer the one that’s lucky. If ye ask me that, I’ll kill ye meself.”
Garrett grinned. “Atta girl. Nothing like a good challenge, aye?”
Shaking his head and hoping his money was safe, Danil made his farewells. “I still have to brief Bastian, cajole Artemis into fighting, get Lilly to safety and figure out who the group behind the army is.”
“Not to mention feed us,” Garrett said.
Danil paused. “Feed you?”
“Aye. If my men are pulling a long shift and sleeping on the ground tonight, ye’d best sort some good rations for them so they’re not fighting on empty bellies.”
“Very well, I’ll see what I can do.”
Garrett watched Danil go, then turned to Bette. “Do ye think the men can live through this?" he asked.
“Not likely to get out without some casualties,” she said. “But have some trust, old man. We’ve taught them well. They’ll do what they need to.”
“Aye.” Garrett turned back out to look at the still, dark forest. “That they will.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The first sign something was coming was the animals. A herd of deer ran out of the forest, erupting from the woods at a sprint and circling towards the south when they saw the walled-off city of Tahn. Then, birds tore towards the sky, disrupted from their quiet homes by… something.
“They’re getting closer,” Bette whispered to Garrett, squinting into the distance. The grey landscape had been leached of color by the dropp
ing sun, and long shadows now stretched between Tahn and the woods that shaded the way towards Muir.
“Aye.”
They hadn’t discussed who would stand guard that night. They didn’t need to. Rearick were trained to fight on little food and less sleep, to push on through weariness and pain to complete whatever mission lay ahead, whether it was picking clean a deep mine or escorting a shipment between towns.
They both intended to see out this night, and the fight that would come, if not now, then in the morning.
“Ye think they’ll attack when they get here?” Bette asked. She might be the better fighter, but she had never seen battle.
Garrett had. Swept up in the revolution that freed the city of Arcadia, he had seen battle lines drawn, seen people die for a cause they believed in. It hadn’t been pretty, but it had worked.
“Aye,” he said simply. George would be a fool to let his men fight after a day and a half slog on foot or on horseback, but he’d be a bigger one to let them sit and wait to be attacked in the night.
He paced along the ledge behind the wall. The blasted, godforsaken, gift of a wall. He had no idea how Francis had gotten it up so fast, or how Lilly had convinced an entire wolf pack to dig a trench beyond it, but it was their first line of defense.
The men had eaten well that afternoon—early enough that they wouldn’t puke on their boots when they saw the army awaiting them, late enough that it wouldn’t matter if they missed breakfast.
The women of the town had fawned over the brave members of the new Tahn Guard, delivering home cooked meals and showering them with compliments. That had lifted the spirits of the terrified soldiers and left the town feeling uplifted and confident.
Most of the army was asleep, bunked in neighboring houses, or wrapped in blankets along the nearby roads, close enough to spring into action if an attack came.
A barking dog shattered the still, night air. Howls from a wolf pack outside joined him. More birds took flight, rising into the air and darting off to find a more secure sleeping place for the night.
“Garrett?” Bette said in a low voice. “Can you see the trees?”
Five minutes ago, the individual trunks had been so deep in shadows, even under the bright moon, that the forest looked like a giant swathe of unbroken blackness. Now, Garrett could make out each tree’s silhouette. Something was casting a light from behind them. There was only one thing it could be.
“Aye. Don’t raise the alarm. Go get the boys on the quiet, like.”
She nodded and slipped way.
The only sign that she had done it was the occasional scrape of boots on stone, or the soft clink of metal as they carefully and quietly got ready.
“Lads, heads down,” Garrett called in a quiet whisper along the barricade.
Obediently, the soldiers on guard—even Sharne, who at any other time might have thumped him for calling him a lad—ducked down low.
From outside, it would look like the flimsy wall was unmanned.
The heavy stomp of marching boots reached Garrett’s ears just as Bette slid back in next to him. “I sent a runner to the mystics,” she whispered. “And told him to warn Annie after that.”
“Good, good.” Garrett crept along the wall, listening to the rhythm of the approaching hoofbeats.
“They think we’re sleeping on the job!" he said in a loud whisper. “Let’s let them keep thinkin’ it, aye?”
They stayed low, waiting until the horses pulled up to a whinnying stop before the gates. Garrett could tell the men outside were trying to be quiet. They spoke in whispers, hushed their nags and snapped at each other for the noise they made.
However, an army of soldiers is not an easy thing to keep silent. Without even sticking his head up, Garrett could tell where they were.
He looked around to make sure his own men were in position. Sure enough, they lined the battlements and clustered below. In fact, Garrett realized, there were more than just the soldiers milling around the protective wall.
“Bette, what the fuck are they doing down there?" he asked in a low voice.
She shrugged. “Exactly what I would have done.”
The few nearby windows that let out the soft glow of lantern light let Garrett pick out a few of them. They were women, armed with shovels and pitchforks, their dresses tied above their knees, so they wouldn’t trip and hair in neat braids, away from hands that might grab a chunk in a fight.
“Why the bloody hell wouldn’t they train, then?" he asked.
She shrugged. “Too damn busy. Doesn’t mean they won’t be able to help.”
“Fair enough.” He knew better than to argue with her over it.
Outside, the army was becoming louder and more restless. He could hear the nasty little lordling grumbling in discomfort, and he knew exactly when they decided to attack.
The horses bolted forwards. Garrett help his hand up, motioning his men to stay down. A dull scrape on the wall was his cue.
“NOW!" he screamed, and as one, the soldiers on the wall rose. Each one multiplied, splitting into multiple soldiers and making it look like they had three times the number of people on guard.
“Bloody mystics,” Garrett snorted, glad they had come to lend a hand.
The Tahn Guard lifted spears, stabbing the men who climbed the sole ladder they had brought with them. They threw them, piercing the throats and bellies of horses and occasionally getting a man as well.
Archers sent back a volley of their own and three Tahn fighters fell, tumbling back off the battlement to the stones below. “Shields up, men!” Garrett screamed. The rough boards and tin-sheeted shields that had been hurriedly gathered were lifted, offering some protection from flying arrows.
Flames sprung up in the grass outside the wall. Horses reared and went into a frenzy. They bucked their riders off and tore away, trampling anyone who got in their way as the mysterious fire went out, leaving no sign of damage.
“Get them!” George screamed, sounding less than pleased with the resistance they had met. “Wipe those fuckers off the face of the planet! They killed my father, KILL THEM!”
“Wait,” Bette asked, suddenly beside Garrett. “We did what? What the fuck did Julianne and Marcus do in Muir?”
Soldiers rushed to the wall, boosting each other up to reach the top, only to have fingers bashed or stabbed by those above. Some fell from the top, others buckled under the weight of their comrades.
Still, they came, piling over each other and climbing atop those who had fallen to a spear in the face, slowly gaining ground until the first men fell over the wall and into the city.
“For Tahn!” a scream came below, followed by a sickening crunch right under Garrett’s feet.
He whirled and chopped off the arm of a man attempting to scale the wall, then stabbed his sword through the eye of another.
“Do limbs count?” He had to scream to be heard, looking frantically around for the man who was taking the wagers earlier.
“Don’t be stupid!” came the shouted answer.
Cursing, Garrett debated climbing over the wall to find the owner of the arm he now held, but satisfied himself with beating it over the head of another soldier before opening his throat.
He moved over towards Bette, tripping over three dead men in a pile.
“Six.” She leaned over, hauled a man up by the scruff of his neck, and slammed the hilt of her sword down into his face. It exploded, gore coating her armor. “Seven,” she grunted.
“Oh, fuck,” Garrett muttered. He waited for another head to pop up and when none came, he peered over to see the crowd below him had moved on already.
Further along the wall, George’s soldiers had managed to ram a part of the wall hard enough that it bowed inwards. “They’re about to breach the wall!" he yelled to those nearby. Then, he added to himself, “If I run out of people to kill, I’m fucked!”
He eyed the low lip of the wall, the only thing between him and the army outside. “Only one way to fix it. LOOK OUT
BELOW!" he screamed, then vaulted over the wall.
He landed on his feet, planting solidly into the ground. Three soldiers looked up, startled. One grinned. “Looks like they’re making it easy and coming to us,” he sniggered.
“Aye,” Garrett grunted as he took down the first one. “Easy for me, that is.” A duck and a swipe spilled the second man’s guts, and a fast thrust left the sniggering soldier on his knees, watching the battle as he died.
“Four, five, six,” he counted, trying to remember if he had seen the armless one at the bottom of the wall. He would have to go and check later. He couldn’t leave a kill uncounted, after all.
“Ready yerselves, bastards, I’m coming for ye!" he hollered before dashing into the mass of enemy soldiers.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Marcus spurred his horse on, briefly looking back to check the others were keeping up.
Julianne was behind him, urging her horse on next to Madam Seher. The theatre leader had met them on the road and insisted on leading some of her people to the battle for Tahn.
Behind the women, Mathias, a green-eyed nature magician and a man with the black eyes of a physical user followed. Marcus knew the nature mage was keeping the horses going, while the other was dampening the sound of their hoofbeats.
They weren’t bringing an army, but Marcus hoped they would be enough. They had passed the rest of the theatre troupe on the road, hurriedly speaking with Lord George who was still dazed at the events.
Unable to crack his mind, Rogan had eventually locked him up. Rogan had convinced anyone who asked that they had just seen Lord George a few minutes ago, or earlier that day. His absence wasn’t noted, and the lord himself had failed in all attempts to escape.
Seher’s people had rescued him, sneaking into the manor and releasing him from the dungeon right by Julianne and Marcus. She still hadn’t explained how that had happened. Surely, she would have noticed him when she had used her magic down there?
How far? Madam Seher sent to him.
He used the trick that let Julianne through his thoughts so she could read his answer. He thought about the trip they had made, and the road they would need to ride down to return to Tahn.
A New Dawn- Complete series Page 38