Authors: David
17878265 (34 page)
“I have not had opportunity to thank you for saving me from that Bushubu,” Warnyck
offered. “When last I saw you, that butcher Elberon was digging in my flesh for arrowheads, but none of that would have been necessary had it not been for your valorous deed against the beast that beset me on the King’s Way. You own my gratitude and my debt of honor.”
“You are most welcome,” Loric assured him, “but I would remind you that you balanced the account between us with one flip of your dagger within a minute of my deed. I owe you thanks for that.”
Two men grinned at one another as they remembered the fight they had experienced
together. Warnyck shared, “What you did at Darbin’s Field was impressive.” He went on to say,
“I have never seen such a thing in my life, and I have been with this army five years. A man can see many things in the service of his liege in wartime, and yet, I still find your rally and charge remarkable.”
“You amazed me,” Loric began in reply, “by outrunning Turtioc’s border guards with
arrows in your arm and shoulder.”
Warnyck crinkled his nose. “That was in no way special,” he argued, “because my wounds stood as proofs that I nearly failed in my mission.”
“I doubt most men could have escaped such dogged pursuit as you did with similar injuries,”
Loric countered.
“Thank you, captain,” Warnyck said, eyeing the green armband. “I see that your intent is to compliment my actions, as I have complimented yours. However, I will leave you to consider this: if I was truly amazing, I could have infiltrated Stone Keep, stolen Turtioc’s claim to the Throne of Beledon and withdrawn from Nindronburg before anyone knew I was there.” He
snickered at his jest.
Loric also laughed at the scout’s good humor. “When next we meet, I would hear how you came to be at
Taggert’s Pub
in Taeglin,” Loric assured him.
Warnyck paused and shrugged. “I would gladly tell you now,” he replied. “I was on my way back to his lordship’s column with news of bandit activities in Riverwood. I was moving ahead of schedule, so I thought a cold brew and a warm maid might be a nice way to bed down for a change.” Warnyck laughed at the irony as he shared, “Luck was only partially with me that night. The brew was warm and the maids were cold.”
Loric grinned at the scout’s jest.
“However, I found something of greater importance to Beledon,” Warnyck assured Loric.
He twitched a wink at the traveler from Taeglin. Then he went along his way without saying another word.
Loric was left open-mouthed to consider all that Warnyck had said. When he awoke from his stupor, he wished Warnyck well. He was not in a position to pursue the scout and demand explanation, for he had come upon the last captain in the column. Duty called him to return to Lord Aldric, at the front of the long line.
****
They laid their plans with little time to spare. Moonriver Castle rose before them. Blue-coated soldiers of Landolstadt milled around the base of the fortress, with an occasional silver sash marking the officer of a unit. In fact, dozens of siege ladders, a ram and two catapults positioned within striking range of the walls ensured the arriving host that Garrick’s enemies were moving more swiftly than scouts anticipated them doing.
Aldric gave the order. Ox horns bellowed. Five companies charged up the hill in an attempt to dislodge the besieging army. Those companies were highly successful in their maneuver to sweep the weakest portion of the encircling force from its posting at the eastern walls. The Egolstadters gave no quarter to their overwhelmed foes. No one had attacked Moonriver Castle since the year following the untimely fall of King Lornigan. No one had ever defiled its halls. If Aldric’s men had their way, the lapdogs of Landolstadt were not going to have the chance to do so either.
Loric bellowed a war cry and galloped off northward. His men streamed behind him like clouds in the wind. The new knight called for his followers to raise a raucous and attract attention to their position. Landolstadt archers prepared to loose in their direction, and a small band of horsemen broke free of the main enemy body to prevent their line from being flanked.
Loric let hostile riders further distance themselves from their countrymen before he made his move to dispatch them. He checked his pace and angled Sunset parallel with the enemy front to keep from straying into effective bow range. Then he waited, while opposing horsemen began overstretching themselves to get at his company.
“On my commands: strike and wheel,” Loric said, holding his lance tip to the sky. The enemy riders hesitated. “Strike!” Loric called.
Loric gave Sunset the bit. The ground quaked. His men shouted and yelled....
With a mighty
clash,
opposing companies collided at full speed. Loric watched his new lance snap in two from the dead weight of its first victim. He used his shield to turn aside the blade of another foe, while he cast away his stub of lance and groped at his belt for the Sword of Logant. The new knight pivoted his torso toward his enemy just as the blade came free, meeting the man’s attack in perfect time.
The ring of their colliding weapons repeatedly filled the air, as Loric beat back several blows from his attacker. Two steeds pressed against one another, bullying and biting, as each animal tried to give its master the advantage in the fight that was taking place above them. Loric used his shield to block another shuddering stroke.... and then he found an opening beneath his opponent’s shield. The Sword of Logant slashed the man’s belly. He doubled over with a horrible scream. The new knight brought his sword hilt crashing down atop the man’s head to silence his wretched wail.
Loric adjusted his helmet and took quick assessment of the scene around him. His enemies were withdrawing. His men were pursuing after them like dogs after hares. With his company running the risk of overextending themselves, Loric knew he had to act quickly. He raised his sword and shield overhead. Then he beat them against one another with all of his might.
“Wheel!” he cried in his loudest voice. “Wheel to me, good men!”
Loric’s weapon sprayed him with blood, but he paid no heed to his gruesome anointment.
He continued pounding his blade against his shield, yelling, “To me! Wheel to me!” His soldiers reined in their horses and discontinued their zealous pursuits.
It was none too soon. Three companies of Landolstadt foot soldiers, accompanied by two archery units, were hastening forward to meet them. Loric could not allow the enemy to engage his force in heavy fighting, for his orders were to stay aloof, which would allow him to draw Hadregeon’s men away from the strongest concentration of Garrick’s forces. The enemy had designs on cutting his small detachment off and destroying it where it was--far from help.
“Retreat in good order,” Loric called. “Fall back!”
Loric let his men pass by him before he circled about to join them. He paused for a glance behind him. Two hundred and more foot soldiers were making their hurried approaches. Arrows from accompanying archers rained down around Loric, taking down half-dozen Shimmermen and prompting him to hurry along his way.
“Gradlin!” Loric shouted. “I need you to lead your men northward, until you have room to maneuver. Then circle and strike.”
“Yes, captain,” the short, powerfully built lieutenant returned. With a thump to his
breastplate and a wink of his steely blue eye, which was set into a face that seemed too soft with age, Gradlin veered off.
“Baldron,” he continued for his young second lieutenant, “you and I will lead the others in to prevent Gradlin and his men becoming entangled.”
“Yes, captain,” Baldron answered. “As you wish.” Baldron’s face was as hard as mountain stone, which would have been encouraging to Loric, but for his doe eyes.
Loric shrugged his doubts aside and did his duty. He moved eastward until the footmen in pursuit gave up their chase. Loric reassured himself that neither of his lieutenants had earned their ranks by being easy matches in combat. He halted on a hilltop to observe Gradlin at his work and his anxiety lessened. The elder lieutenant drew off two hostile companies and plunged into their midst. His Shimmermen struck quickly and efficiently, before they withdrew, leaving a trail of broken bodies behind them. They regrouped and charged again.
Gradlin’s riders were depending on Loric’s support to escape a continued scrum. Even now, enemies who had fallen too far behind Loric and his followers were angling away from him to strike Gradlin’s open flank. Loric ordered the charge.
The captain and his riders raced down upon unsuspecting footmen. At the thunderous sound of their approach, and the roar of their battle cry, their foes turned to face them. It was too late.
Steeds crashed into enemy soldiers, with their riders hacking at unbalanced recipients of the attack as they fell. Those not slain by the sword were crushed to death beneath chopping hooves.
Those not trampled fled in terror before the steel of Egolstadt’s Shimmermen.
“Check steeds!” Loric ordered his men. “Chase those men no further. We have
accomplished our goal.” He pointed and questioned, “See there?”
Every man in the company stopped to stare in the direction Loric indicated. They had done their task well, but their danger was no less than it had been at the outset of the battle. A massive horde of enemies--nearly thrice the size of Loric’s small command--was shifting northward with intent to engage and destroy them. There were as many knights along with those foot soldiers, and the bothersome patrol of archers had never been dispatched.
“Gradlin and I will fall back,” Loric said unsteadily. “Baldron, you will have to stay behind to slow their advance. You must hold them as long as you possibly can. Then we will come to your aid.”
“I understand my duty, captain,” Baldron offered reassuringly. “Charging horses are more effective than dismounted horsemen standing in defense. May your attack reap destruction in the midst of our enemies,” he said in parting. His grin of acceptance covered all signs of the fear that lay beneath his brave facade.
“Fight well,” Loric shot after his lieutenant, who then moved forward to stem the tide.
“Let Hadregeon’s rabble know the fury of Baldron’s men this day!” Gradlin yelled, and a shout went up for those who would brave the first crashing waves of the Soul Snatcher’s vanguard.
Loric watched as Baldron and some forty warriors rode forward and dismounted between
two stands of trees. As they braced themselves for the coming storm, Loric wrestled with guilt for sending them to their deaths. They were but two score, preparing for the onslaught of some five hundred screaming men. He wished the trees were his allies, but even then, they would be too few to help Baldron and his defenders.
“Perhaps they are not,” he murmured.
“I beg your pardon, milord?” Gradlin questioned.
“We will use the trees,” Loric explained vaguely.
“I do not understand-” Gradlin started.
Loric never let him finish. “Look,” he said sternly, his finger stabbing the air in the direction of the approaching mob. “Those oath breakers wish to spill your blood. They intend to come through Baldron to do it. You must trust me to prevent this happening and carry out my orders without question. We have so little time to act.”
Gradlin answered, “I trust you, captain.”
Loric nodded. “Good. Have someone fetch me another lance, and then listen to what we will do....”
****
Loric was relieved to hear that from a veteran lieutenant like Gradlin. His strategy had a panner’s hope, but he had to find gold somewhere. He nodded.
Then Loric and his soldiers began waiting. It was like counting sands to pass an hour; it was difficult, and it made the wait longer. Enemy horsemen came to the front of the pack and deadly lances dipped toward chosen targets. Those riders’ shouts rose to a tumultuous level as they advanced on Baldron and his anxious men.
Loric wanted to charge down the slope to help his rear guard, but it was far too soon for him to do that. He and his men had to be patient. Their foes were coming more clearly into view.
Their angry, determined faces were visible. Greedy eyes of approaching horsemen were ablaze with hatred, as they uttered savage cries meant to stop hearts with fear.
“Now!” Loric shouted. He lifted his lance to eye level, pointed it at his enemies and cried,
“Strike!”
Loric and his fifty followers roared like beasts as they descended toward the scene. Ahead, Men of Landolstadt crashed into Baldron’s line, which wavered and cracked, but held
surprisingly well against shrieking horses and angry riders. Enemy footmen were close behind those horsemen. Loric’s charging line continued forward, gathering speed and throat with each powerful stride. They were closing distance on the melee. Fifty yards.... twenty.... ten.... they galloped forward. At five yards, Loric raised his lance, shouting, “Oak and yew! Oak and yew!”
Loric and every other man across the charging line drew upon their reins, while Gradlin and his riders plunged into the fray. That lightened impact by half, but it was forceful enough to unbalance the stalled progress of Landolstadt horsemen. Nevertheless, enemy footmen were close by.
Loric wanted to stay near and observe, to be at the ready to reinforce his men, but he could not do that. Any such move would result in utter failure. He had another mission. He turned Sunset parallel with the line of trees to his right and jogged him steadily along behind them.
Loric was tense. The pace was too slow. They were making too much noise. Baldron and Gradlin were likely to be overrun. So many doubts assailed him, that he was tempted to kick Sunset into full gallop. Yet, Loric could not overtax his mount. He had to be steady, but his patience was failing him. Woods began thinning. Loric’s heart quickened. It jolted with excitement when limbs and foliage fell away to reveal rolling grassland and a clear path to enemy archers.
