“And this is when,” the Ranger said as the bridge began to rise against the last of the riders. “Alamore is at its greatest threat of attack.”
“So, what are we planning, Ranger?” Rockwood called. “I have the squires here with me.”
The Ranger looked toward the group as if only now seeing them. “I’m not relieving you from training the kids, Rockwood. Nice try, that’s for you and Laster.”
Laster shot a look of fiery hatred in the Ranger’s direction which the hooded man ignored, moving past them and into the castle, the King following with a nod in their direction. Rockwood shrugged, clapped his hands together and beamed at the group of squires. “Now when was the last time that we all got to train together?” he pointed at Haru and Robin. “Some of us might not be squires much longer, and soon,” he opened his arms to gesture to all of them. “We will have a few pages aging into our midst. Which pages, Laster?”
“Gabe and Jerram the fifth,” Laster said, rolling his eyes. “A whole family with unoriginal names.”
“You have to get ready for Gabe and Jerry in the next few months,” Rockwood pointed a finger at Rowan. “And if you continue to be a bad influence, so help me, Rowan, I will have you sent back to Lonric and I will request your sister in your stead.”
“That’s rude,” Rowan said, crossing his arms. Will and the others grinned.
“She might be a better fighter,” Colin said, elbowing Rowan in the ribs lightly.
“At least a better-looking one,” Will whispered.
“Not a high hurdle,” responded Colin.
“You two knock it off,” Rowan snapped.
“We may have another squire at that time, one of the soldier’s sons. He’s trained, thus far, under a horse trainer in Finnwick. However, given recent events,” Rockwood said, starting to lead them toward the side of the castle where the storage sheds held practice weapons, “the soldier in question has requested that Earl Kenta send his son, Tethien, back here to train as a squire instead,”
“What he’s telling us is that we have to corrupt three new minds,” Leaf hissed to Rowan.
Laster shot a look toward them that made Leaf step back and the group fall silent. “Today we are doing a little bit of exercise with the most useless weapons of all,” his eyes darted over each of them. “The quarterstaff.”
“You know, when you tell them it is useless, you aren’t really helping with the whole training portion,” Rockwood said, rolling his eyes. “Right, three instances you might need to know how to staff fight. Who has them?”
“Spears; the head can be severed by a sword but you still need a weapon,” Haru called out.
“Excellent, Haru, now I need the people who haven’t had this training every year for six years to step up and answer some,” Rockwood said, laughing.
“It’s the easiest weapon to make-shift?” Airagon asked.
“That’s a good one,” Rockwood encouraged while, behind him, Sir Laster’s eyes were toward the sky in exasperation. “And a third?”
“Non-lethal combat, when you just need to stop an attacker who might be armed with a minor weapon or no weapon, but you don’t want to resort to killing them,” Colin answered.
“Excellent!” Rockwood said, even as Sir Laster shot him a disgusted look. Rockwood raised his eyebrows. “Then again, I feel like Sir Laster has something to say on the matter?” he turned to his fellow knight.
The knight shrugged, clearly not embarrassed to be called out. “If you get to the point, you’re fighting an armed opponent with a staff, then you need to strike fast. If you are having to defend yourself with a stick against a blade, you’re going to die.” He began handing the staffs to squires, shoving one into Will’s hands with enough force that he staggered back a few steps.
“You should see a staff as merely a pause as you find yourself a real weapon,” he said, grimly, “And if you can’t keep your feet when one is handed to you, don’t expect to survive long when you’re relying on one, William.”
“Perhaps you and I can demonstrate then,” Rockwood said, dryly.
Sir Laster shrugged again, passing one of the staffs to Rockwood. “Square off then.”
They did, the squires taking a step backwards. The knights gripped their quarterstaffs in both hands, bracing themselves as they started to circle slowly. Sir Laster struck first, underneath Rockwood’s grip, at his legs. In a flash, Rockwood had released one end of the staff and let it swing in an arch, knocking aside the blow and countering with his own, that drove Laster to take a step back. Will watched in awed fascination how the two men watched one another, waiting and reading the movements before they happened. When they struck, each move was deliberate, fast, an intentional strike at the other while the other parried it. Rockwood moved in a carefree way as if only half paying attention while Sir Laster was measured and the scowl on his face was growing more pronounced.
Sir Laster took a step forward to strike and Rockwood spun suddenly, so the blow just barely missed his back but he was now closer to Laster. Before Laster could recover and defend, Rockwood had brought his elbow into Laster’s stomach and the staff against the back of his knees. Laster sprawled on the frozen earth, the staff clattering as it rolled away.
“And that is the gist of staff fighting,” said Rockwood, reaching a hand out to pull Sir Laster to his feet. “You alright?”
“Of course, I am,” Laster waved him off, standing and brushing the snow from his tunic front. “Vancely, grab my staff, won’t you?” Laster called. Small, flighty, Vancely rushed to obey the knight.
“Right, now to pair off. Haru, you and Novin. Loper, Robin, Saget go ahead and take on Colin. Vancely, Airagon,” Rockwood glanced around to see who remained. “And Rowan, you take Leaf,” he paused. “Will, that leaves you with Delvin.”
***
By the time that they were putting the quarterstaffs back in the storage shed, Will’s body ached, his knuckles were bleeding, but the exhaustion in his body had driven all else from his mind. There was a bliss in being almost too tired to stand.
“Now I could actually sleep,” Rowan said as he shoved the wooden staff into the shed. It knocked over several others and he swore, picking them all up again.
“Watch the mouth, Rowan,” Rockwood called.
Colin and Will bent to help him, both struggling to hide hysterically tired giggles. “You two knock it off,” Rowan grumbled.
Colin stood, having to walk away as he was laughing too hard to help and Will’s own ribs felt in danger of breaking again as he fought not to laugh. Haru and Robin helped with the last staffs and pulled Rowan and Will to their feet. “Thanks!” Will had to bite his lip to continue to hold back his laughter.
“You three are weird,” Robin said conversationally. Will glanced at Colin who had managed to compose himself slightly, tears of mirth rolling down his cheeks. He couldn’t honestly argue Robin’s point.
“When you five are wrapped up, we get lunch and start in on the next bit of fun,” Rockwood called to them, “Come on!”
They started toward the front of the castle, Colin finally managing to control his laughter. They had just reached the courtyard when they were stopped by the stationary group of squires. Sir Rockwood had his arms out to either side in front of them, blocking anyone from moving forward. Sir Laster, at the far side of the courtyard, was yelling up at the gatekeeper.
“Open it now!” Laster roared.
“The King’s orders were to secure the castle!” the guard barked back. “That means no one leaves or enters.”
“I don’t give a damn, Tabious, open the gate! One rider isn’t going to be our downfall,” Laster’s face was turning red with fury.
“And on whose authority are you demanding that on, aye, Laster? ‘Cause I don’t take my orders from you,” Tabious retaliated, his face annoyed.
“My authority,” the King’s deep voice made everyone turn. He and the Ranger were stepping from the black double doors, the Ranger’s hand on his sword hilt
, the King’s eyes on the gates. “Open it, Tabious.”
“There’s a rider?” the murmur in the group made Will look around, not sure who had asked. He saw that Robin and Haru both wore dark expressions, whereas Rowan and Colin’s expressions mirrored his own look of confusion. A single rider? Perhaps a messenger?
The bridge seemed to take an eternity to lower and when it did, the slumped forward rider’s face was out of sight, his blood-stained clothing unrecognizable. Will, Rowan, and Colin all inhaled sharply Rockwood ordered them to stay back and the bridge began to rise again. The rider was moments from falling forward, off his horse’s arched neck. Will squeezed his eyes shut as not to see the wild-eyed, blood-streaked face of the small and terrified grey horse or the seemingly lifeless form of Treck.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The Ranger was the first to reach Treck. He grabbed the boy as he slid almost completely off the horse. The horse shied sideways, eyes rolling in terror, and the Ranger was forced to hold the squire’s full weight. “Someone grab the horse!” he barked. Laster moved cautiously toward the animal, speaking in a low murmur, until he was able to grab the horse. It reared up, head thrown back, screaming a whinny that horses in the barn returned.
The Ranger cradled Treck as though he was a small child, nodding his head at Rockwood. “Get the squires back inside.”
Will moved toward the front of the group, trying to follow the Ranger as he strode into the castle. Rockwood caught him with an arm to the stomach. “No, Will,” his voice was unusually stern. “This isn’t a time for you to check on Treck.”
“He’s our friend,” Rowan said and he and Colin pushed their way to Will’s side. “We need to.”
“You need to, for once, obey orders,” Rockwood’s eyes flashed. “I mean it, Rowan.”
Somehow Rockwood’s strict tone, never heard by any of the squires, was what made the situation so serious. He turned to Laster. “Will you need a hand with that horse?” Rockwood demanded.
Laster nodded, having to step back as Treck’s grey reared again, striking toward the knight. “Airagon, get over here,” Laster barked. Airagon broke away from the group and rushed to the knight’s side, making soothing noises to the frantic animal.
“The rest of you, inside, now,” Rockwood gestured them forward. “Into the dining hall. I don’t want to see anyone sneaking to the healing chambers. Dining Hall only!” the knight made sure to walk near Colin, Rowan, and Will, not giving any of them the chance to slip up the stairs to the healing chambers as they entered the warmth of the castle. The dining hall, still empty after breakfast, was somehow barer with the additional tables. Rockwood herded the group to one table and ordered everyone to sit down. “Robin, Haru, you two are in charge right now. I must see how I can be of use to the King,” without waiting for them to respond, Rockwood turned on his heel and strode back out of the doors.
The heavy cloud of silence pressed on their shoulders. Will stared at the dry blood on his knuckles, the bruising on his hands and wrists. No one seemed to want to voice what all of them were thinking.
It was Vancely who finally spoke. “So…does this mean that all of Shadow Dale’s men at arms are dead then?”
Everyone in the hall shivered. Haru moved from his bench to sit on the table itself, running a hand through his hair. Will noticed that all of the squires were beginning to get the same exhausted look of age that the knights had worn that morning.
“I don’t know,” Haru finally muttered, “It may be that Treck was sent as a messenger. If they aren’t dead, they will need help.”
“And of course, we will help them!” Loper said confidently. “The King will be in here any moment telling us to prepare our knights’ horses. Maybe some of us will go!”
“Why would he do that?” asked Robin, raising one eyebrow. “He told Giltor it would be a bloodbath. If Giltor chose to take his men to be slaughtered, that’s not on King Revlan or Alamore. That’s on himself,” he shrugged. “Why expend our soldiers and knights to fight something that our King didn’t want to fight.”
“Perhaps he will send enough help to aid them in a retreat?” Saget said tentatively.
“Do you think that King Giltor will let his men retreat? I get the impression he’d rather paint the snow with their blood then admit he was wrong,” said Haru darkly.
The group lapsed back into silence. Will’s head was beginning to ache, his eyes stinging with lack of sleep. In his head, he could see snow, stained pink and red with blood, horses lying with blank eyes, and men sprawled like leaves in the fall. Men who looked like Sir Dannix; mutilated and unrecognizable.
After what had to be an eternity, four figures strode through the door of the dining hall. The King, closely followed by Sir Rockwood, Sir Laster, and the Ranger. The three faces that Will could see were drawn, set and fierce. The Ranger’s face, nearly hidden in shadow, could tell him nothing.
“Squires,” the King called, striding toward their table. He halted, on hand resting on the far end of the table, his dark eyes hard. “Saddle the horses. Do not saddle your horses, as you will stay here.”
“Your highness,” Robin blurted. The King held up one of his hands, eyes warning Robin to stay silent.
“I will be leaving you with the Ranger, Sir Laster, and Sir Miller. The rest of my men will ride. Treck was sent here to tell us that they were surrounded as soon as they crossed Thornten’s line. There was no retreat, no safe place to position archers, and they were ready for an army that was the size of ours, theirs, and Finnwick’s combined. I do not think they expected that we would break an allegiance before agreeing to ride into such a trap,” the King slowly lowered his hand again to the table. “King Giltor was a fool to ride there but a fool who was willing to bring his men and risk their lives to protect Alamore. We don’t forget such acts.”
Behind the King, the Ranger snorted, turning his back on the group. The King ignored him and continued. “We are going to aid their retreat. That is all. If Giltor chooses to rush back in, we leave. As I tell you this, there are soldiers preparing in the courtyard. I ask only that you work fast, you help your knights, and, if you don’t have a knight, you help someone else prepare. Sir Laster is in charge when I ride through that gate.”
“I’ve told you that there is no reason for you to ride with the cavalcade,” the Ranger finally spoke, spinning back toward the King.
The King straightened, a dangerous look crossing his face for a moment. When he spoke, it was the first time that Will had ever heard his steely tone. “I am a King and a leader, Ranger. What I choose is my decision. Your advice has been noted and is no longer necessary on this matter.”
The Ranger growled and with a swish of his black cloak, was striding away, out of the room. “You let him get away with enough that he believes his opinion is the important one,” Sir Laster said snidely.
The King shook his head. It was as though he had aged ten years in a single moment. “Laster, with his upbringing, he would feel that way even if I didn’t let him voice his opinion. Men like the Ranger don’t sit in silence, thankfully,” the King looked at the squires once more. “What are you waiting for? Saddle the horses.”
They all stood at once, rushing through the entry hall. The courtyard was already full; stable hands holding soldier’s horses, knights fumbling with buckles on their jerkins as they rush about, looking for their squires. Hooves struck stone and frozen earth, animals, sensing the impending danger and anxiety of their handlers, danced on reins and lead lines. Will had to dodge a large bay stallion who was fighting his soldier, backing up despite the rider’s plea to hold still as he tried to mount up.
In the barn, the horses still in stalls struck the doors and pinned their ears at passing men and horses alike. Visra’s strikes grew more urgent as Will rushed past him to open the stall for Talloe. “Sorry boy, this isn’t a ride for us.”
Visra, clearly displeased with his master’s choice of a different horse, turned round to begin kicking his gate with
both hind legs. Will had to force himself to focus on the large blue roan stallion in front of him as opposed to correct his own horse’s childish antics. “Easy, Talloe,” he whispered to the dark animal.
Talloe hesitated as he saw Will pick up the leather halter, then he lowered his massive head against Will’s chest for him to slide it on. The well-trained horse instantly quieted, his powerful body moving next to Will out of the stall and to a nearby crosstie. Horses passing seemed to pick up on Talloe’s demeanor and quieted for their handlers, though sometimes only for a few steps. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Airagon still fighting to calm Treck’s small horse in a wash stall, pleading with the animal to settle while he ran a wet rag over a slash in the horse’s flank. Will squeezed his eyes shut a moment as he pictured other horses, torn open, only miles away while their riders crawled for safety.
Ranger of Kings (William of Alamore Series Book 1) Page 32