Haru shook his head, his face pale. “If I move, we are an easy target,” both boys were forced to duck as an arrow shot over their head, proving Haru’s point. “Plus, I can’t put weight on my leg,” Haru gripped Will’s arm. “You have to defend Alamore, I’ll be fine.”
Will snorted. “Yeah right! I’m not leaving you here unguarded,” he stood, Haru’s hand falling back to his side. “Don’t draw attention to yourself,” he snapped and wheeled round, furious adrenaline pumping through his blood. Around him, people were fighting, defending, and collapsing dead onto the ground that was there to guard the dead of battles past. He wasn’t sure who was alive from Alamore and who wasn’t as he stood, unmovable, before Haru.
A man broke away from the main body of the fight, rushing at Will and he sidestepped the attack without thought. It was like there was a strange new clarity to his surroundings. He didn’t think but moved instinctively, blocking the second strike and coming up under it with his dagger, slashing a deep wound into the man’s arm. He howled in pain and staggered back, eyes flashing in the torch. Will didn’t hesitate. He brought the hilt of the sword upwards, crashing into the man’s skull with a sickening sound. He staggered and fell, unconscious, at Will’s feet.
“Nice one, Will,” Haru rasped behind him.
Will ignored the compliment, trying desperately to see what was happening at the mouth of the crypt. They were being rapidly outnumbered, even as more Alamore soldiers rushed out of the castle.
“Will,” he looked down at Haru who’s pale face was screwed up with pain and staring at him. “We are losing, aren’t we?”
Will glanced back at the battle. “Of course not,” he lied. Haru’s voice was sounding weaker. He was losing too much blood. “We are going to be fine.”
Haru laughed weakly. “Don’t ever join the gambling games in town, Will. You can’t lie to save a life.”
Will squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. He opened them, inhaling in the sharp cold air. “We are just hitting a snag is all, Haru. This is Alamore, we don’t lose, you know that.”
Haru’s cracking laughter was broken by a roar of fury. Will spun round, raising the sword to defend himself and Haru as the doors flew open and more men rushed into the graveyard. For a wild moment, Will thought that another tunnel had opened, that Thornten’s men were rushing in to save the tunnel people. His heart leapt as he saw Airagon, armed only with his dagger, vault a gravestone. He saw the Earl of Finnwick, face drawn and eyes flashing dangerously, plunge his sword into a man in Phersal colors.
Will sank to the ground beside Haru, suddenly exhausted as men rushed past them. “Who are they?!” Haru demanded, face strained.
“Finnwick,” Will laughed nervously. “Told you it was just a snag.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Airagon noticed Will and Haru before reaching the main fray. He knelt beside them, immediately turning a nasty shade of green on seeing the blood on Haru’s leg.
“Don’t pay mind to that,” Will said, hurriedly. “Help me get him to the castle, we need to get him to a healer.”
Airagon nodded, thrusting his dagger into his belt. “I was nearly too late!” he gasped, lifting one of Haru’s arms over his neck.
Will, grabbing Haru’s other arm, shook his head firmly. “No, your timing was impeccable,” they heaved Haru to a standing position, the older squire letting out a cry of pain as he tried to rest weight on his injured leg.
“Haru, we are here so you don’t use that leg,” Will snapped. “Just lean on us a bit, won’t you?”
Their progress was painfully slow. Will, his sword still clutched in his right hand, glanced around constantly. The Finnwick soldiers and the Earl seemed to have taken the tunnel attackers by surprise. They were being pushed back toward the crypt. Even so, they were forced to stop at intervals as fighters crossed their paths, too intent on killing one another to notice the three squires.
Still, Will felt the journey from the crypt side to the door to the castle took an eternity. Haru’s weight grew heavier as his head started to lull forward. Will squeezed the arm he held tighter, desperate to keep Haru awake. He didn’t want to think of the blood lost, how bad the wound had to be.
When they at last staggered through the door of the Final Farewell, Airagon, gasping, shook his head. “Will, I can’t carry him,” the color had almost completely left Haru and Airagon’s faces. Airagon’s lips were tinged with blue from being outside too long and his whole body shook with cold.
Will lowered Haru’s arm and Airagon followed suit. Pulling his cloak loose, he tossed it to Airagon. “Cover yourself up with that to warm up, use part of it on Haru’s leg,” he handed Airagon his sword. “Keep yourself and Haru safe. If someone comes in here, kill them.”
Airagon nodded grimly, taking the sword in his shaking hands. “Where are you going?”
“I’m getting us help,” with that Will wheeled round and ran. His feet echoed through the dark room. He almost fell turning into the hallway, caught himself, and ran through the open door into the dining hall. The whole castle felt eerily empty. He sprinted into the entry hall and slid to a stop. Below his feet, he could hear yelling and the clash of more weapons. It sounded like his theory had been right; there was more fighting in the dungeons.
He grabbed the banister to the healing chamber stairwell and took the stairs two at a time. At the top, he shoved his way through the door, nearly flattening one of the healing assistants as he burst in.
The man screamed, leaping back and immediately looking annoyed. “What is the meaning of this, squire?”
Will stopped, panting, and looked wildly around the room. “Where is the head healer?”
“He’s finishing stitches on the Shadow Dale squire,” the man said shortly. “I can help you.”
“Haru’s been hurt. He’s lost a lot of blood, he’s in the Final Farewell, and Airagon’s there too. We need to hurry,” Will pleaded.
The man looked ready to question him further but at that moment the head healer pushed through the curtains at the end of the room. “Damus, tend to the Shadow Dale squire. William,” his grey eyes assessed the blood-covered squire and he hesitated. “Do you need to stay here?”
“I’m fine,” Will said desperately, “But please, Haru needs help now! He’s losing too much blood.”
The head healer nodded, slipping back behind the curtain and re-emerging moments later with a leather bag. “Lead the way.”
Will wanted to run, to fly as fast as he had on his way to the Final Farewell. The healer, at a brisk walk, was too slow. All he could imagine was Haru’s pale face becoming too pale, his breathing rasping into a death rattle.
At the entrance to the Final Farewell, Will hesitated, terrified of what he would find if he entered. The healer pushed past him, paused, and turned back to him. “I saw Finnwick’s banner in the courtyard. Between Sir Laster and the Earl, this castle is far safer. You should rest.”
Will grinned shakily. “With all due respect, Sir, I don’t think I can.”
“Then get in here and help me,” the healer ordered. “I can promise that Haru won’t be the only one I treat.”
Will swallowed the rising panic in his chest and followed the healer into the chamber. At the far end, where he had left Haru and Airagon, the candles had been lit as well as several torches, casting long shadows through the room. Airagon was hunched on the step next to Haru, shivering in Will’s cloak. Haru, propped on his elbows beside Airagon, was swaying as if in a lazy breeze, conscious but just barely.
The healer knelt beside Haru, pulling the strip of cloak off the wound. Haru grunted in pain, squeezing his eyes shut. The healer sighed and shook his head, the small motion filling Will with dread. “Can you help him?” Will asked, terrified of the answer.
The healer nodded. “I can help him for sure, but it’s not pretty,” he reached a hand out toward Will. “There’s a knife in my bag, the front side sheath, hand it to me, and don’t hand me yours before you even ask. I don
’t need the blood of some stranger you’ve killed contaminating this wound,” Will found the clean blade and handed it to the healer. “Airagon, get to your chambers and warm up. You will be useless if you freeze to death.”
Airagon stood, glancing back at Will. “Do you need anything?”
“Airagon, you got Finnwick here,” Will shook his head. “You’ve done more than enough, thank you.”
Airagon smiled weakly. Will didn’t have a chance to see him turn away as the healer was already demanding more from the bag. He and the healer worked side by side as Haru faded in and out of consciousness. Twice Will had to use his full body to keep Haru’s leg still as the healer stitched the skin together. Both times he felt ready to be sick after seeing the needle pierce flesh and the healer snapped at him to hold himself together. The healer handed Will a bottle, the clear contents of which he had to force Haru to drink, holding a hand over Haru’s mouth as he tried to spit it out.
By the time that the healer sat back, Will was more exhausted than he had been during the tumult of the battle. Resting back on his heels, the healer reached his hand out of the wet rag that he had ordered Will prepare to clean Haru, wiping his own hands over the fabric. “Open the doors to the graveyard, we need to get more of the injured inside.”
“Is he going to be okay?” Will demanded. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Haru’s half-lidded stare, his eyes rolled back.
The healer stood, grimacing as his knees cracked. “If we can keep him out of infection and the battlefield a while, then, yes. I think he should be just fine,” the healer clapped Will on the back. “Now, get that sword and start helping more of the wounded into the castle. If I’m not mistaken, the fight is moving underground now. Finnwick might just have saved Alamore.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Will helped soldiers carrying other injured, dying, and dead soldiers into the Final Farewell. His stomach turned as he walked past markers, splattered in crimson blood. The sun was starting to turn the sky a pale grey overhead, the crypt at the far side of the graveyard looking like an open mouth into a dark world. Rowan and Colin, both of whom had been ordered to help Will by the healer, stepped out of the doors with him and stared.
“It could have been a lot worse,” Rowan finally muttered, running a sleeve over his forehead.
Colin, his face drawn, nodded. “It nearly was. If you hadn’t arrived with Laster when you did, Will and I would both have been dead,” he turned to Will. “I tried to get to you and Marl, I really did! I got attacked by more coming out of the crypt and I just couldn’t get through to you and-”
“Colin,” Will said, stopping his friend’s rush of words, “I know you tried. You couldn’t have helped me. Marl would have killed us and Haru if it wasn’t for Laster and the King’s dogs.”
“I noticed he’s not among the corpses,” Rowan said darkly. “He got loose of his fight with Laster because of some Phersal help and led the retreat. Bloody coward.”
“He knew they didn’t stand a chance and he’s not about to throw his life away,” Will leaned against the wall of the castle and stared at the snow and mud, discolored with the lives of soldiers from both sides. “Now I guess we have to wait to see who else comes out of that crypt,” his stomach churned. Sir Laster, Earl Kenta, Sir Miller, the Ranger, and Robin had all gone down, along with more knights and soldiers from Alamore and Finnwick alike. While they battled to keep the castle safe from below, the rest of Alamore was following the King, if he was even still alive.
“I wish I could see the look on Tollien’s face when his brother crawls back and says that he just got flattened by a handful of soldiers and the return of a renegade Earl,” said Rowan, laughing. “He’s going to be livid! Marl gave away the tactical advantage of the tunnels coming into the castle, we know where they go now, and, to top that off, he failed to kill you, Will.”
Will snorted. “Why would Tollien care about that?”
Rowan and Colin exchanged raised eyebrows. “Will, you realize you’re an heir to Thornten, right?” Rowan asked as if he thought Will had been struck on the head a little too hard.
Will shrugged. “A lot of people are between me and either throne, I’m not much a threat right now.”
Colin nodded his head toward the scene before them. “Look how many people just died in a small skirmish, Will. People die, especially in the chosen profession of swordsman and royalty.”
“Is royalty a profession? Pretty sure it’s a stupid blood thing,” Rowan argued.
Colin raised his eyes to the sky overhead as Will fought to hide his tired grin. “Rowan, you drive me mad, you know that, right? It might be a blood tie but it’s only truly stupid when it comes to the heir of Lonric.”
“Rude,” Rowan grumbled. The three fell silent, watching the sun bring more light to the destruction before them. “How long do you think it will take them to get back?” Rowan voiced what they were all thinking.
“Depends on the tunnel length,” Colin said.
Will nodded in agreement. “If it goes just beyond the border of Alamore and Thornten, that’s still several miles. If it goes all the way to the castle, that’s a long day of hard riding so I don’t think they’d go that far.”
“I hate waiting,” Rowan huffed.
“Same,” Will and Colin said in unison.
A commotion from inside made all of them turn and Will’s heart leapt to his throat. Had another tunnel opened into the castle?
Novin rushed out, his hair blood-streaked and his arm hanging in a sling. “The first of the delegations is returning,” he gasped. Seeing the three stricken faces and seeming to read their minds, he grinned. “King Giltor and the King are back with their first delegation, Sir Ross, Rockwood, and Sir Don are with him. They’re all alive.”
Colin pushed his way past Novin, breaking into a run as Rowan and Will both let out the breath that they had been holding. “How far behind are the rest?” Will asked, following Novin into the Final Farewell as Rowan sprinted to catch up with Colin.
“I don’t know yet, I just saw them ride into the courtyard and came to get you all,” Novin, as if reading Will’s mind, hurried to add. “I know there are more coming, they said to keep an eye out to the guardsman. They aren’t the only survivors.”
Will’s shoulders slackened in relief and he followed Novin back through the halls, along the trail of mud and blood that led from the graveyard to the courtyard. There, the first of the riders were dismounting and pages led away horses covered in the aftermath of battle, their sides slick with sweat and death.
Colin leapt at Sir Ross as his feet hit the ground and Sir Ross, taken back, caught the squire with an exhausted laugh and embraced him before lowering him to the cobbles. “Easy, there, Colin,” Ross’s eyes narrowed as he took in Colin’s attire then they moved to the other squires and his face hardened. “What in the blazes of Thornten has been going on here?”
“The Ranger was right,” said Will, stepping forward to grab one of the reins of a horse a Shadow Dale knight was sliding off of. The man nodded a stony-faced thanks and took the horse, pulling it toward the barns.
“What?” Ross’s eyes flashed. “I need to know everything.”
“Same here,” Rockwood, his left eye blackened and a makeshift bandage wrapped around his upper arm, stepped from the throng of horses and men, Rowan at his side.
“We actually may need the King with us,” Ross growled.
Will stood on tiptoe and could see the blue roan coat of Talloe, his head high, and the King beside him. They were standing next to King Giltor, still astride his white stallion. The King of Shadow Dale was hunched forward, his eyes furious and his clothing spattered in blood. “Is Giltor hurt?”
Rockwood snorted, pulling Will into a one-armed side hug. “His pride, Will. He just led his men into the worst defeat in Shadow Dale history,” his face darkened, “a complete slaughter and waste of life.”
“How did you all get out?” Rowan demanded.
�
�I went in as a messenger and found King Giltor,” Ross said matter-of-factly. “I had a simple message; withdraw toward Alamore or we couldn’t help him. They were surrounded on all sides but with them fighting from the inside toward us and us fighting on the outside toward them, we got a break in the army and were able to extract them. Then it was a matter of breaking into smaller, faster, groups that could get across the border faster and into Alamore. They weren’t expecting us to come in later. Had we ridden with Shadow Dale; we would have all died with how they surrounded. They were lucky we held back; the back of the defenses wasn’t ready for our attack.”
Will shivered. If they had gone with Giltor’s revenge plan, all of Alamore, Shadow Dale, and Finnwick would have been killed. “So, the others, they’re coming now, right?”
“Yes,” Ross said, brow furrowing. “But we need to know what’s been going on here. Where is the Ranger?”
Ranger of Kings (William of Alamore Series Book 1) Page 35