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When Loric turned to ask his liege if all was going as planned, he spotted several companies of Nindronburg Horsemen racing toward their flank.

“My lord!” he shouted, pointing toward their exposed position.

Aldric turned to see the cause of Loric’s alarm. With an expletive and a shout, he ordered his escort, “Charge!”

Before Loric could consider what was happening, he was hugging Sunset’s neck, as the red stallion surged forward amongst other horses. They galloped across the muddy plain with noise like rolling thunder. Loric witnessed the initial onslaught of those enemy horsemen ahead, as they struck the Riders of Egolstadt with distressing impact. Egolstadters reeled from the fury of the enemy charge. Dozens were slaughtered, helpless to fend off this new horde a-horse. Scores of survivors broke and ran.

Aldric brought new hope and courage to his faltering men, as he dashed amidst them with a war cry on his lips. The Men of Egolstadt let loose ferocious roars upon seeing that their liege lord had come to rescue them. Aldric’s banner whipped defiantly in the breeze as he rode, with the Emerald Spires looking as unyielding as the wall of men who called those spires home. Loric suppressed his weightless stomach, drew a breath and seized up a lost lance that stood embedded in the earth. Sunset never broke stride. Upon Aldric’s order, the son of Palendar lowered his newfound weapon, until it was skimming along parallel with the ground. Sunset bore Loric up to his enemy....

The lance ripped from Loric’s grasp and a shrill whinny pierced his ears. At the same moment, a deadly enemy lance point came into view. Loric brought his shield up to parry the attack, but it struck him firmly upon his shoulder. He was unseated from his horse, hanging suspended above the ground for what seemed like an eternity.... before he crashed. Luckily, the steely point hit him at a high angle, so it only tore his cloak and surcoat, scraped at his chain links and slid off, rather than piercing him through.

Regardless of the jarring he received, Loric willed himself back to his feet. A whirling mass of men and horses churned about him. He only had time enough to recognize his foes by their intentions. Loric’s nearest enemy charged him with a guttural yell. The cry died in the barbarian’s throat, as the son of Palendar turned the incoming blade aside with the Sword of Logant, which he then drove into the man’s neck.

Loric dared not search for friends. Enemies were all around him. One after another, they challenged him. Each time they met a fate similar to their friend with severed larynx. The panicked squire laid about him on all sides, until his last threatening enemy fell.

Loric stopped to take stock of the melee around him. He caught a glimpse of Aldric. The Lord of Egolstadt was fighting off two assailants, so Loric rushed to his aid.

The squire dispatched one of those foes by cleaving his leg to down him, and thrusting his sword through his chest to finish him. Aldric bashed the other man with his shield and used his sword to separate his head from his shoulders. He thanked Loric with a nod and whistled for Snowstorm. When the horse jogged up, its coat resembled that of Sunset, who cantered up beside them for comparison’s sake. Both animals looked as though they had bathed in blood.

Loric climbed astride his steed and cast about to gain better understanding of the

confrontation. Both armies were regrouping. They were like two big cats gathering themselves to pounce on one another with greater ferocity than they had shown in their first engagement.

Neither force had wholly formed itself into units when more shouting rang out from the north.

Nindronburg footmen had crossed over eastward, approached unnoticed and now rushed in to attack.

Lord Aldric bellowed, “To me, Men of Egolstadt! To me! We must stand firm.”

The Nindronburgers paid little heed to order, because numbers were now heavily in their favor. They shouted as they rushed into the fray once more. A large group of fresh soldiers was pressing in to bolster their ranks.

“To me!” Aldric repeated above the din. “The day might still be won. To me!”

Men responded to their lord’s call, at once turning to face their enemies. Grim determination swelled to fill the void left by shrinking hopes. Egolstadters met the disordered Nindronburgers with tremendous success. Even when those rested, well-ordered companies drove into their midst, they continued to put up stout resistance. The numerical advantage Turtioc’s men held over them was prodigious, so that Aldric made himself part of the first defensive line. Loric frantically fought off assailants, knowing that each stroke he made had to harvest blood or it would be his last.

“To me!” Aldric’s great voice cried again. “We are holding. They must not-”

At that moment, Aldric missed a stroke and exposed himself. The enemy footman followed through with a hard shot across his helm.
Clank!
It struck the Lord of Egolstadt full on and he toppled from his saddle.

The sands of time stalled for Loric. In the fury of battle, he had cast off his haunting dreams, his visions. Now, though, the nightmare was reality. “No!” he yelled. Similar cries of despair and dismay rose all about him.

Loric put his opponent down with a brutal pommel strike to his face and raced to Aldric’s side in fury. The man who had struck the significant blow was poised to hack the fallen warlord, but the Sword of Logant plunged into his heart with vengeance. All around Loric, men were breaking and running, hopeless and defeated. When he finally noticed that the Army of Egolstadt was melting away in the heat of battle, he thought surely his end had come upon him.

His thoughts unexpectedly turned to Avalana, the lady he loved, the princess he could not have. Loric had thought to see her again, but the Fates had thwarted his plans to rejoin her at Moonriver Castle. Hope died within him, until a faint tickle at his arm reminded him of his parting words with Avalana.

Loric ignored the distraction of the bracelet and pushed aside his thoughts of the princess.

This is no time to think about Avalana, even if she is dear to me,
he thought bitterly. Hope bloomed inside his heart.
Is it?

Loric wheeled Sunset about and retreated into the midst of Aldric’s routed men. “Fight not for
your
lives!” he shouted. “Think of your families,” he commanded them. He appealed to their pride, assuring them, “For the shame of your actions, your wives will bed down with other men.

For your cowardice, your sons will deny you are their fathers. If that does not give you reason to stand against the dragon-worshipping hordes, think how these beasts will molest your daughters when they come with war to Durbansdan and Egolstadt.” The thought of any man who could not find his backbone after hearing Loric’s harsh challenges disgusted him. To those craven dogs, he said, “If you remain unconvinced to do your duty, run and never return to this army. You are of no use to your kingdom.” He spun about to face his enemies once more, declaring loudly, “Only we few stand between these barbarians and our loved ones. For my part, I will fight!” Loric roared. “I need bold men to stand with me. Who is with me?”

The response to Loric’s query amazed him, as a loud chorus of voices bellowed, “I am!” To raise such a raucous, the surviving Egolstadters had answered to a man. Knowing that

emboldened Loric to lead them on a headlong charge back into the fray. The mighty
clash
behind him spoke of many reckless followers, stirred to passionate fury by his words.

Loric’s sudden madness, and the rage of those with him, caught jubilant Nindronburgers by surprise. The self-proclaimed victors were put to flight, as Men of Egolstadt assailed them in full fury. The tide was turning once more and the barbarian Nindronburgers were fast drowning beneath waves of destruction that were rolling up over them for a heavy downward crash.

Loric sensed that his foes were giving ground before him, so he pressed them. “Make them run!” he bellowed. “Drive them on! Give them pain for pain: steel for steel!”

Loric and his frenzied Egolstadters pursued the barbarians across the fords, where they smashed into Turtioc’s weakened flank. Ox horns bellowed at the centerline, from whence Lord Garrick saw their crossing and committed the bulk of his strength to strike at his adversary’s middle. With his right flank giving way and Garrick’s ordered masses driving into his center to prevent him from reinforcing his shattered wing, Turtioc had no wish to see the end of the fight.

Durbansdanian companies threatened to hack through stunned ranks of Nindronburgers directly in front of the enemy king, even as he and his captains pulled back such forces as they could and quit the field.

Once their commanders abandoned them, Turtioc’s helpless men tried to flee. Many of them were ridden down. Others threw away their weapons and surrendered. They had seen enough of the Soul Snatcher’s face for one day and they did not wish to share the experience that hundreds of their comrades had already come to know.

****

After the battle, Loric ordered his men into three groups. The first group was to watch over prisoners. The second was to set a forward skirmish line, in case Turtioc’s retreat was only a ruse. The third group was to join him, as he wandered the field in search of the place where Aldric had fallen. He directed pairs of men to gather their wounded brothers as they came upon them, until they came to the place where Aldric lay.

His helmet was lying beside him, badly dented. There was an egg-sized knot upon the lord’s brow. His chest was moving, ever so subtly, from his shallow breathing. Loric raced forward, shouting for Elberon, who was right beside him all along. Loric’s heart was jammed against his spine, and his lungs were flat and empty within his chest, as he waited for the old physician to examine Aldric.

Elberon felt for heartbeat and listened for breathing. His head began wagging, subtly at first.

Then a grin broke across his countenance. His nod gained vigor. His eyes shone with pleasure.

“Our lord lives,” he wheezed from between the wedge of tears and jubilance.

Loric felt his lightheadedness as he resumed normal breathing. He let off an anxious

chuckle. “Improvise stretchers from tent poles and canvas. Lord Aldric and others need us to bear them back to camp.”

Those men obeyed him as they would have obeyed Aldric.

****

Loric waited for Aldric to wake, until Elberon chased him off. “Rest. Freshen up. You have done enough this day to earn that, at the very least.”

Loric reluctantly obeyed the wise old physician. He returned to his tent and stripped off his tattered cloak and sword belt. His blood-soaked surcoat and chain shirt soon followed suit. One of Aldric’s captains, a somber man named Bartrinic, brought him fresh water unbidden, as though he was a servant. Loric thanked the man for his kindness, reminded him that he was a captain and sent him on his way. Then he washed his face and hands and flopped down to rest.

****

“Lord?” questioned a voice from outside his dreams. “Lord?” it came louder to his ears,

waking him at last. Marblin was there. “Lord Aldric stirs,” the Moonwatcher said quietly.

Loric was instantly on his feet and stumbling out to join Marblin. He walked briskly, questioning after the Lord of Egolstadt and what state he was in, while Marblin answered his many queries in quick order. Two guards stood their posts outside the tent. They looked at the approaching tandem and nodded their permission for Loric to enter.

Within, Loric was surprised to find that his liege was entertaining men of great rank. Lords Garrick and Garrett were there, as was King Avalar. “Pardon, lords,” he apologized. “I can come back another time-”

“Nonsense,” Garrick said with a wave. “I command you to stay.”

Avalar smiled broadly and remarked, “Great show, Lord Loric! You make a fierce leader--

and you are humble too.”

Aldric grinned at his squire and murmured, “You are a born leader, Loric of Shimmermir and Taeglin. It seems that I owe my life to your valor.”

“And we the battle,” Garrick added proudly.

“Rumor has it that the Ghost of Palendar rides with Aldric,” Garrett remarked sourly.

“Perhaps this squire receives credit that is not due him.”

Uneasy quiet settled over the once-merry meeting.

Aldric decided to ignore Garrett’s comments. Instead of broaching the matter of Loric’s true ancestry, he thanked the son of Palendar, saying, “Forget this foolish talk. Enjoy the favor you have earned and know that you are the hero of the day.”

Chapter Fourteen

Under a Banner of Truce

The host moved camp to the east bank of Moon River for the night. The Men of Durbansdan and Egolstadt had won the fords, but they still faced the daunting challenge of besieging Stone Keep. Garrett had pursued Turtioc and his rearguard, to avert the necessity of assailing the stronghold, but his hunt yielded no quarry.

Just after Loric settled into his tent for the night, he heard a call from without. “Loric,” said the familiar voice of Lord Aldric, “I would like to have a word with you.”

Loric feared that the time of punishment for wearing his Logantian emblems had come at last. He braced himself for the worst tongue-lashing he had ever received, including the one his mother had given him for climbing the cottage and jumping from the roof at age six, and said,

“Enter, my lord.”

Aldric drew back the canvas flap and ducked inside. He wore a bandage on his head, and he leaned upon a makeshift cane, but he looked more himself now that he was up than when he was down, despite his slow, careful movements. The Lord of Egolstadt grinned at Loric.

“You fought well,” he said approvingly.

“Thank you,” Loric replied easily. “You as well, my lord.”

“It was a difficult day that came perilously close to going amiss,” Aldric commented. “But for you, it very well may have done so.”

“I did my duty,” Loric said with a shrug. “That is what I thought you would have wanted....”

his voice died in his throat as the memory of Aldric’s fall returned to him. He murmured through his mental replay, “Something had to be done....”