“Because no skirmishes have been reported in the region. Except as you said, the reports can’t be trusted. Did you see the markings on the houses in that last village? It’s rebel propaganda. They are active here. And...” Jeffrey sighed. He didn’t want to have to say this. “I’m fairly confident we are being followed, though I can hardly see them in the mirror.”
Both men turned around to check, all that could be seen was a cloud of dust and blurry shapes.
“It’s a dust cloud. It could be anything.” Ignacio said.
“Maybe. But if we’re being followed... They will catch up. If they mean us harm, they will find a way to do it, despite the car being armoured.”
“What if it’s a returning patrol?”
“Then we are very lucky indeed.”
“This is not a regular car it has the fastest engine that’s ever been developed. Just go faster and they won’t catch up,” the Prince said matter of fact.
“Based on the readings, I’m going as fast as the car can go. Any faster and I’ll do damage.”
“Where did your death wish go? Nace, get back here.”
Ignacio looked at the Prince wide-eyed but the look on the Prince’s face allowed no argument, so he moved. After some awkward shuffling, the Prince took over the steering wheel, Jeffrey sitting in the passenger seat beside him, Ignacio in the back. The Prince pressed a few buttons and flipped some switches. The car accelerated so fast that Jeffrey was thrown back into his seat and couldn’t move for a moment. “At least give us a warning next time, would you,” he complained.
“Or just don’t do it,” Ignacio said, his face turned to stone. His hands were holding on so tightly his knuckles were turning impossibly white.
“You’re going to lose your advisor at this rate,” Jeffrey warned, throwing a concerned look at Ignacio.
“Ah, he’ll be alright. We’ve done this often enough. He should be more used to it.”
Chapter 15
They came in sight of the enormous walls and fortifications much sooner than expected. The Royal Insignia in blue and gold flew high along with the Imperial Flag, below that, the legion crest.
When they approached the front gates, it looked like they had just been opened, though not all the way. A squadron of soldiers stood lined up, all armed and ready for combat, a number of vehicles lined up beside them.
It was an invitation, provided they were who the officers assumed they were, based on the car itself. The Prince’s car, while designed not to stand out, was marked in ways that trained officers could identify as being used for royalty only.
They stopped outside the gates and the Prince lowered the window. Two soldiers stepped up to them, both in the blue uniform of the legion, one with a gold trimmed cape, his armour marking him as an officer.
“Your Highness.” The officer stared wide-eyed.
“We appear to be in need of assistance,” the Prince spoke coolly.
“Certainly, Your Highness. Please proceed inside, my man Townsend will lead the way.”
Both the officer and his aid saluted as customary, then Townsend led the way through the throng of battle-ready war machinery, the Prince driving behind him. Townsend was jogging and setting a good pace, yet inside the car, it was a crawl compared to their earlier speed.
Once they parked the car, Townsend led them to an office. A large desk dominated one side, a table with chairs the other. Maps were laid out on the table. The Prince stepped closer to take a look.
“Your Highness, can I bring you water or food or is there anything else you need?”
“Water would be excellent, thank you, Townsend.”
The man saluted and left. Shortly afterwards another man entered, of stocky build and heavily muscled, it was his uniform which identified him as the fort commander. He was followed by the officer, who had greeted them at the gates.
“Your Highness, it’s an honour to welcome you. My name is Johnson, I’m the fort commander. You’ve met my First Captain, Rockwell. How can we be of assistance?”
“We appear to have picked up a tail a few miles back. We were able to outrun them, but I don’t think we’ve shaken them. It might be nothing, but my guard felt it prudent not to take risks.”
The commander nodded. “There’s very little traffic in this region. There are no patrols scheduled for return for another two days. Our outlook did see a dust cloud behind yours. It’s likely not good. If I may be so bold, with the amount of activity we’ve had in recent weeks, it was a risk to drive through the area without an escort, Your Highness.”
The Prince raised an eyebrow. “How much activity is there?”
“We engage them frequently. Patrols are always out looking for them.”
The Prince and his advisor shared a look. This was the sort of information the Prince was looking for, Jeffrey realised. Information that he wasn’t getting at the palace.
“How big are your patrols?” Jeffrey said.
“It depends on the intelligence we have, Sir. Sometimes it’s only a dozen or two. Sometimes we send a hundred men. We were in the process of sending a patrol out when we saw your car.”
“The men at the gate and in the courtyard,” Jeffrey said and received a nod in answer. “It’s a large group. Where are they headed?”
“Their orders are to set up a camp in the mountains north of here. From there they’ll split into smaller groups to attempt to chase the rebels. It’s rough terrain and not well charted, so it will take time.”
“Do you have many men out on patrol at one time?” Jeffrey could feel both Ignacio and the Prince eyeing him. But they hadn’t yet told him to be quiet. And the commander seemed willing enough to answer his questions.
“As many as we can send.”
Jeffrey noticed the captain wince and wondered what they weren’t saying.
“They don’t attack the fort outright, do they? Where do they come from?” Ignacio said.
“They only attack where they are confident they can win. Small towns and villages, largely unprotected holdings. We have to draw them out to fight them. They seem to be everywhere at once and nowhere at all. We’ve found no base of any kind. The closest we get are abandoned camps.” The commander’s frustration was palpable in his voice. This fighting had been going on for a long time and they weren’t making progress.
“What would help your efforts?” the Prince said.
“More men,” the captain spoke with a half-laugh. He cringed and shrugged apologetically when the commander glared at him.
“Your Highness, we don’t expect anything. I understand that these rebels are spreading and becoming more numerous. All the forts we’re in contact with are fighting them after all. I’m certain what men and resources the King has are going where they are most needed. We are managing.”
“Where do you get your intelligence from?” Ignacio asked to break the uncomfortable atmosphere.
“Scouts, captured rebels, sometimes locals overhear things and report it, a variety of sources really.”
“And you use it for planning your patrols. What territories do you cover?”
The commander stepped closer to the maps on the table and pulled one out. It showed the entire southern region. “We’re here. Everything south of us, the length of the lower basin east to west, and into the mountains to the north. We work with the nearest fort in the east sometimes. The fort in the west has a greater area to cover and can’t often spare men. Our territories cross over but we don’t often get as far as the borders. Neither do they.”
“That’s a considerable territory to cover when fighting an unseen enemy.”
The commander nodded and smiled wryly in response.
“This dust cloud we saw, is it likely to be rebels?” Jeffrey said.
“They haven’t come close enough for us to get confirmation, but it is likely. It’s the closest they’ve been to the fort.”
“Can we use this opportunity? Flank and attack them?”
“The ground is too even he
re, there’s no cover and the dust being stirred up by any movement would give us away before we could get into position.”
“What if we set a trap?”
“What kind?” the commander’s brow creased.
“We can assume they were attracted by the lone car. If we leave without an escort, they’ll follow us. If we set a trap somewhere further on, they will drive right into it.”
“You want to use the Prince as bait?” Ignacio said outraged.
“Not the Prince, his car,” Jeffrey explained. “They can’t know who is inside unless they have access to privileged information.”
The door banged open, interrupting their conversation, Townsend came stumbling through balancing a tray, with glasses and water jugs. Standing closest to the door, it was Rockwell that went to help his aid. “I’m sorry, Sir,” Townsend mumbled, his face flushed red.
They placed the tray on the table, after the maps were moved aside, then poured glasses distributing to the Prince, his advisor, and Jeffrey, before serving themselves. The cold drink was welcome, the air hot and dry.
“So where am I during this trapping?” the Prince asked into the silence with a smirk.
“At a place of your own choosing, Your Highness,” Jeffrey replied, smirking back.
“Is it doable, Johnson?” the Prince said, turning his gaze on the commander.
“You’re headed north, yes? In the mountains it would be easier to set a trap. I’m not convinced they’d fall for it though.”
“If it really is the rebels that have followed them, Sir, if we could defeat them all in one go, it’d be a major blow to them. It might even incapacitate them,” the captain spoke eagerly. “The troops are ready to go, they are headed into the mountains anyway. Let them go now and set up. It would be no inconvenience to the troop, but the gains, if we were to succeed, would be enormous.”
Johnson studied his captain, his brow creased.
“Uh, Sir,” Townsend said quietly. “Some scouts returned already. It is the rebels, sitting out of range but watching. The scouts think they saw some ten cars and vans, another twenty on motorcycles.”
“That doesn’t sound like a lot of people, it should be easy enough to overcome those numbers,” the Prince said.
“Winning a fight isn’t the issue, Your Highness. Having the fight is.”
“Explain.”
“They spend most of their time hiding. There have never been so many of them in one spot. They attack and disperse, by the time we get there, they’ve usually long since vanished. We have to be lucky to get there quickly enough to get to a handful of them.”
“So, Jeffrey is right, this is the time to strike at them.”
“They know the mountains better than anyone, they could be setting a trap of their own. We’ll need the men to escort you through safely, Your Highness.”
The Prince made an impatient sound, his gaze turning to Jeffrey with a raised eyebrow.
Jeffrey understood the Prince. This was too good an opportunity to waste. “Do you have cavalry?”
“Yes, Sir, we have about fifty horses.”
“We can send them into the mountains ahead of the car. They can stay off the road, which the cars and vans of the rebels can’t. They can check the area and secure it. We can still set a trap.”
“Your Highness, I must object. You can’t risk yourself like this,” Ignacio said, his voice urgent, brown eyes trained on the Prince.
“Who says I’m risking myself? As Jeffrey said, I can choose to be anywhere.”
“I know you well enough, little would stop you being in the front line, fighting beside the men.”
“Well then,” the Prince said with a smile, patting Ignacio’s shoulder.
“Please, Your Highness, it’s too dangerous.”
“I value your council, Ignacio. If you think of any reason other than risk and danger, please tell me. Until you do, help us plan this.” The Prince’s voice was firm, and Ignacio sighed, his shoulders dropping.
***
“This is the spot,” Rockwell said into the tense silence in the car. The road ahead of them had been blocked with a fallen tree trunk.
Ignacio slowed down and turned his head to the Prince, in the passenger seat beside him. “Please, Ako, we can still stop this.”
“No, Nace, we can’t,” the Prince replied. He reached out, laying a hand on Ignacio’s leg. “It’ll be alright, I promise.”
The car stopped, and the Prince jumped out. Ignacio sighed heavily and got out as well. Jeffrey and the captain followed, pretending to work on removing the obstruction in their path, while the Prince and his advisor leaned against the car, watching.
“You’re very lucky to get to work with him. I’m so envious,” Rockwell said quietly, the distance to the others ensuring they would not be overheard.
“What?” Jeffrey said with a laugh.
“The Prince. I’d give anything to get to be his guard.”
“Why is that?”
“I fought with him before. He didn’t stay in the command tent, didn’t remain behind in safety. He was fighting beside us in the front lines. He’s so skilled too. It was amazing to watch him. He inspired everyone.”
Jeffrey stared at the captain. His brown eyes shone with reverence, the smile on his lips genuine, wrinkling his tanned skin. “I’ve heard the rumours, that he fought in the Long War, actually fought. I wasn’t certain it wasn’t enthusiastic victors cheering their Prince.”
Rockwell laughed. “I don’t blame you, but I swear I saw it with my own eyes. He rallied people around him, charged, and broke lines. Over and over again. Until there was no one left to fight.”
“I’ve seen him train, I know he’s good.”
“Good! He’s incredible. I don’t know what his friend is worried about. He’s well able to look after himself, and everyone around him. I can’t wait to see him in action again, such a beautiful sight.”
“Just don’t forget your own role.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t. Look, they’re coming.”
A van, flanked by two motorcycles on each side approached, behind them, half covered by dust, more vehicles. The Prince stepped into the middle of the road, waving at them. They slowed down. Ignacio got into their car, locking the doors. Untrained as fighter, he would be safer this way. The van stopped beside the Prince’s, the others circled them.
Jeffrey and Rockwell continued to tug on the tree trunk, pretending to remove it. When one of the motorcycles drove into the forest flanking the road, ignoring the Prince’s calls for help, Jeffrey cursed quietly. Hopefully, their waiting cavalry would be able to take him out before he could alert anyone.
The Prince still stood in the middle of the road, gesturing wildly as he talked to two men, who had stepped out of the car, the golden scabbard belted at his side, glinted in the sunlight penetrating the trees. Three motorcycles stopped beside Jeffrey and Rockwell, men dismounting.
Jeffrey caught Rockwell’s eye, they were close enough now. A nod and they drew their swords simultaneously. Taken by surprise two of the cyclists had no time to react. Jeffrey jumped, sword in hand it took him all of a few seconds to stab one of the men in the throat. A gurgling sound escaped him, hands uselessly going to his throat. Jeffrey didn’t stay to watch him die. “He’s yours,” he called to Rockwell, leaving him to deal with the third cyclist while Jeffrey hurried to the Prince’s side.
The car horn sounded. Thunder filled the air. Jeffrey ignored it.
The Prince dealt with the two men from the van. One limped, bleeding from a gash in his thigh, the other had a cut on his sword arm, his grip faltering.
Horses broke from the tree line and entered the road. The two rebels turned to look at the new threat, giving Jeffrey and the Prince more opportunity than either of them needed.
“Keep him alive,” the Prince called while running his sword through his opponent’s shoulder.
Jeffrey had swung for a death blow but managed to turn it and instead used the pommel of
his sword to incapacitate. The rebel dropped to the ground unconscious. Three more men approached, delayed by the horses, they approached more wearily, checking their surroundings. The beating of hooves on stone mixed with the clanging of metal clashing on metal.
Rockwell came up on the Prince’s right. Three against three but the Prince’s sword still skewered a rebel.
“Tell your men to surrender,” the Prince said to the skewered rebel.
“It’s the Prince, kill him,” the man called instead.
The Prince rammed his fist into the rebel’s face, making him jerk and groan, the blade in his shoulder moving.
Jeffrey countered an attack from one of the three approaching rebels. This one fought with skill, Jeffrey recognised the patterns of an imperial soldier. Neither man carried a shield, both using their swords to defend as much as to attack. It was common in the legion to practise both with and without shield, in case it was lost or damaged in battle.
Grinning at the half challenge, Jeffrey dodged a blow and countered with a backhanded strike, something he had taught himself. The rebel didn’t see it coming and the blow landed, cutting through the leather jerkin. A stumble, sword raised. Jeffrey pounced and struck with full force, scraping metal against metal. He expected the parry and countered it with a left-handed blow to the man’s side. A gasp and another stumble.
Jeffrey risked a glance to the side where the Prince fought. The rebel previously skewered lay unmoving on the ground. Graceful movements belied the brutality of the Prince’s attacks, his opponent bleeding from multiple cuts.
Focusing on his own attacker, Jeffrey parried a strike coming in high and kicked the man in the knee. It gave out and he fell to the ground, sword clattering as it slid away. Jeffrey stepped close and kicked him in the chest until he lay on his back. With his sword at the rebel’s throat, Jeffrey looked up.
“Do you want this one alive too?”
“As many as you can,” the Prince answered.
“Looks like it’s your lucky day,” Jeffrey said, looking at the rebel again. “Or maybe unlucky.” He let his sword scrape the skin, a drop of blood appeared. One blunt hit and he knocked him out.
Ties of Destiny (Curse of the Crown Book 1) Page 23