The Dieya Chronicles - Incident on Ravar

by John Migacz

CHAPTER 58

  The scout rode to the command tent but Balthus already knew his report. The dust cloud could be seen from three miles away.

  “Sir Balthus,” announced the scout as he reigned up his luse, “the King’s Arm is coming up the west road. A great many of them, Sir.”

  “Thanks for that accurate account. I’ll have the cook set the table for a great many.”

  The sarcasm was lost on the scout, who saluted and rode back to his post.

  Dieya emerged from the command tent and watched the dust cloud. “Well, looks like we will be moving out on the morrow.”

  “How long will it take us to get to Glendell Castle?” asked Balthus.

  “With this group? A week, maybe more.”

  “Why don’t you send the Arm on first,” said Balthus. “They will make better time and will set a pace that our lads can try to match. Bo and I will lead the mounted mercenaries and Rory can lead the foot and archers.”

  Dieya nodded, never taking his eyes from the dust cloud.

  Balthus saw Dieya was worried. “How long until the Sevoal reach Glendell? Any idea?”

  Dieya shrugged. “I’ve been out in the grasslands every night checking. Groups are starting to move toward their gathering point. How long until they are ready to march, I can’t say.” Dieya’s fists clenched. “I told them, ‘We need optical satellites, not just sensors.’ ‘Not necessary,’ they said. ‘Not in the budget,’ they said.” Dieya glanced at Balthus. “They should be the ones in the front line if the Sevoal move on us early.”

  Balthus laid his hand on Dieya’s shoulder. “I’m glad you told them that. Budget be damned!”

  The Sorcerer nodded, still staring at the approaching dust cloud.

  Balthus sighed. “You know, of course,” he whispered into Dieya’s ear, “that I don’t have a clue as to what you’re talking about.”

  Dieya’s attention snapped to Balthus. “I’m sorry. You have taken this in such stride and asked so few questions, I forget you are not from our world. I would be brimming with questions. Why aren’t you?”

  Balthus stroked his beard for a moment in thought. “Well, I can put things together pretty well with little information. As far as you being from another world, we had that figured out and the shock is long over. As for questions, I just work out what I can and let the rest go. I know that no combat unit ever has enough men and equipment at the right time and place. You have to make do. So I figured that’s what you were talking about when you mentioned optical satellite whatevers. Humans are still humans, as Rory has assured me, and I’m sure a royal administrator is the same animal on all worlds. That’s not what bothers me.”

  Balthus turned Dieya to face him. “You bother me,” he said, jabbing a finger into the Sorcerer’s chest. He laid both hands on Dieya’s shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Dieya, you are losing your perspective. What’s the worst that can happen? If the Sevoal overrun the castle, we run and hit them when we can. The deeper they go into our land the harder it will become for them. They cannot replace their losses – we will cut them off. And every man in the kingdom will rally to stop them once they cross the King’s Road. We will defeat them. If they open one of those gate things and send through a bunch of those bad battle critters, we go to ground and wait for your people to help.” Balthus dropped his arms. “Cheer up! If we lose at first, wait a little while and things will change. Everything will turn out all right. The worst they can do is kill us.”

  Dieya took a few moments to absorb what Balthus had said, obviously looking for flaws in Balthus’ logic. Then he smiled and shook his head. “Balthus, you have an innate need to spoil someone’s brooding, don’t you? I have felt a little lost since the destruction of my base. I have depended on it too much.” He nodded. “But you are right. The odds are in our favor. I don’t think they understand the resolve of the King’s men or any human for that matter. That has always been one of their oversights. We will win because we have to.” He patted Balthus on the shoulder and inhaled deeply. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Next time, I’ll just give you a swift kick in the backside to remind you of this conversation.”

  They turned and waited in silence for the King’s Arm.

  A group of seven knights broke off from the column and approached the command tent, pennants snapping in the breeze atop upraised lances. The rest turned off to an open meadow to make camp. Balthus had to admit they looked impressive. Six of the knights rode black luses with white-striped hindquarters. The leader sat astride a pure white stallion and as they slowed from a lope to a walk, the mount pranced as if he knew every eye in the camp was on him.

  The seven came to a halt in front of the command tent. Valerian, the leader, doffed his helmet, shook out his long flowing blond hair and surveyed the camp, his gaze coming to rest on Balthus and Dieya.

  Valerian looked like every storybook champion with chiseled aristocratic features and bright blue eyes. He sat his luse ramrod straight, wearing burnished steel armor covered by a gold-embroidered white tunic and gold cape. Valerian appeared the perfect specimen of knighthood – then he opened his mouth.

  “Well, Sir Sorcerer,” he said in a squeaky voice that would be more appropriate issuing from a small rodent, “I have brought the King’s Arm, as the King requested.” He alighted from his luse and approached Balthus and Dieya with outstretched hand.

  Dieya shook his hand and smiled. “Good to see you again, Valerian. Let me introduce you to Sir Balthus.”

  Valerian, smiling, turned to Balthus and shook his hand. “Sir Balthus. I heard tell you were at Sumtra in the Kyndian War. Is that true?”

  “You heard correctly, Sir Valerian.” Balthus found himself making his voice deeper than normal.

  “Then, well met, Sir. I’m sure we will show the same mettle to the Sevoal!” He looked around the camp. “I can’t say as much for these mercenaries. How formidable a force are they?”

  “They are learning,” said Balthus. “The groups that came in with their own captains and have been together for a while will do all right. The rest will have to learn the lesson of blood for themselves.”

  Valerian nodded.

  “Come,” Balthus said and held open the tent flap, “you must have something to cut the dust of the road from your throat.”

  “And we have much to discuss,” said Dieya.

  Valerian ordered his men to see to the camp and entered the tent, followed by Balthus. “So, Sir Sorcerer, have you not changed your plans?” asked Valerian without preamble as he sat down. Balthus poured the wine.

  “No. If anything I am more firmly convinced of it. The best thing to do is to let them break their teeth on Glendell Castle’s walls. Once they have given up, then we can pursue them.”

  The Knight Champion squirmed in his seat, no doubt uncomfortable with his role. “Perhaps a surprise sortie from the castle could disperse the savages?” he asked plaintively.

  Balthus still wasn’t used to the squeaky voice and when the gleaming knight grew whiney, the pitch raised even higher. Balthus covered a smile with his wine cup.

  “Perhaps, Sir Valerian, perhaps,” said Dieya. “It just might be the right thing to do. We will have to wait and see what opportunities are presented by the fates.”

  Balthus looked at both men and could see that Dieya was humoring Valerian, who still had illusions of a grand charge to rout the enemy. Balthus began to sense the conflicts they might have when confined in Glendell Castle and hoped Baron Genardt would be more pliable than the King’s Champion. He sighed quietly to himself. His biggest fight might be with the leaders of the King’s own forces.

 

  The next day, the camp was a flurry of activity. The King’s Arm left at daybreak. The mercenaries, however, took most of the morning to get under way.

  Gerin entered the command tent to bid farewell. He received warrior
handshakes from Rory, Bo and Dieya, a hug from Adrianna and a headlock from Balthus. “Tell your father I’ll be returning one day for a taste test of his wine cellar.” He released Gerin and smiled. “Ride safe.”

  They watched Gerin ride away, then began their own packing.

  Balthus and Adrianna sat astride their luses, watching the camp’s activity from a hilltop.

  Dieya rode up and joined them. “Why is it taking so long?” His voice said he chafed to be on their way.

  “This is typical of many soldiers,” said Balthus. “I’ve seen men set up camp for one night and unpack like they were remaining there for the rest of their lives.” He shook his head. “I’ve never understood it.”

  “Some folks don’t feel comfortable without their possessions around them,” said Adrianna. “They don’t realize their possessions are actually holding them back. If they could just accept the world as it is, instead of their artificially created one, they would be much happier.”

  Dieya smiled at Adrianna. “You two are certainly unique in your outlook.”

  “We love our creature comforts as well as the next man,” said Balthus. “But what Adrianna means is that by not accepting what you are being given in the moment, you are held back from being given more.” Balthus gestured at Dieya. “Like you, for instance.”

  “Me?” said Dieya.

  “Yes. You are very attached to your world and their ideals. You live here, but spend most of your time in the artificial world created by your mind. Always looking ahead, never taking the time to savor the moment.”

  Adrianna nodded in agreement.

  Dieya blinked and stared at the ground.

  “When was the last time you watched a bird in flight and marveled at the creation of the universe?” said Balthus.

  “It’s not enough to see the world,” said Adrianna. “You must feel as if it is a part of you and you are one with it.”

  “Let me put it more eloquently,” said Balthus. “Ease off! All the worry in the world won’t get us there any faster. Do the best you can and let the rest go. Worrying gets in the way of enjoying life.”

  Dieya sat unmoving on his luse, staring, his eyes unfocused. Their words had ripped through him and rang in his consciousness like a bell. They brought forth echoes of the conversation he had had with Janelle in the Duke’s library.

  Dieya visualized his worries wrapped around him like chains. Chains he had crafted himself link by link. By constantly living in the future and worrying about what might occur, he had created a life for himself that was shallow at best and purgatory at worst. His self image had been one of noble sacrifice. He now realized this was just a trick of the mind to keep him in his chains.

  Balthus and Adrianna shared a look between them as Dieya sat slumped and unmoving for several minutes, still staring into the distance. They were beginning to worry when a small smile lit Dieya’s face. It was the smile of a child who has suddenly gained enlightenment on a problem that has long perplexed him. Dieya sat upright on his luse and the smile blossomed into a big grin.

  Dieya looked at Balthus and Adrianna. “You are right! I have been a fool.”

  “A sorry fool!” echoed Balthus.

  Dieya ignored him. “We will do the best we can and we will win. One way or another, we will win. If the outcome is no longer in doubt, there is no need for worry.” Dieya paused for a moment. “I will help to get everyone moving, then I will go to Glendell Castle via my magic.” He saluted the pair and spurred his luse down into the mercenary camp, his black cape flowing behind him in the wind.

  Balthus and Adrianna looked at each other. “The man has an epiphany right in front of our eyes,” said Balthus, “then has the effrontery to ride off, not even giving us time to pat ourselves on the back? The knave!”

  Adrianna smiled. “But you know the nature of the mind. He will find himself worrying about something or other soon enough. And then we will have to prod him again to remember today’s realizations.”

  Balthus considered this for a moment then nodded. “That could be fun.” He held out a hand and Adrianna took it and squeezed. “It has been a hell of a morning,” said a smiling Balthus. They spurred their mounts down toward the camp.