Storms of Destiny (72 page)

At the crest of the next hill, Jezzil halted to give Falar a minute to breathe, and to mark his trail. Whenever the path forked, he would break off a branch and leave the end hanging, as a sign for Talis to follow him.

As Eregard had said, there were multiple trails up here in these mountains. When he jumped Falar over one large deadfall of trees, close to Ombal Pass, his aerial vision was confirmed—he saw that a barricade had been removed, the logs chopped in half and dragged off to the side. The Pen Jav Dal had been at work clearing this trail. Jezzil could only hope the flanking attack was still far back in the foothills.

How long would it take Talis to convince the major that there was another attack on the way? Would she even be able to do it? Jezzil shook his head as he cantered down the trail again. He couldn’t worry about that now. He had to concentrate on what he was doing, and trust Talis to do her part.

He patted Falar’s neck, slick with sweat.
How much farther to go?
“Come on, girl, keep moving …”

By the time Talis returned to Company Two, she had reached an understanding with the big white horse. It was just a matter of patience mixed with firmness. She trotted up to Major q’Rindo and saluted smartly.

He glanced at her. “Good mount,” he said. “What took you so long? And where is Trooper Jezzil? He should be back by now.”

“Major, I have something important to tell you,” Talis said. “The Chonao are attempting another flank attack.”

The major sat up straighter on his bay. “Where? Report, trooper.”

“Sir, they’re coming through the foothills up there.” She pointed to the southern mountains, noticing as she did so that dark clouds were gathering. “Trooper Jezzil discovered their plan and went on ahead to reconnoiter.”

“Discovered their plan?” Major q’Rindo echoed. “How?”

Talis swatted at a fly on the white horse’s neck, trying to think of a reply. The major glared at her. “Trooper Talis, just how did Trooper Jezzil discover the Chonao plan?”

This was the part Talis had been dreading. She’d racked her brain trying to think of a reasonable explanation, one that didn’t include magic, but no inspiration come to her.

“Major q’Rindo, sir,” she said, her mind racing, “Jezzil realized what the Chonao were planning because of …”

She hesitated.
Goddess, help me!

The major was plainly losing his patience. “
Yes?”

Talis felt her mouth move, but had no idea what she was going to say. Words came tumbling out, though. “Because of smoke signals, sir! He saw them rising into the air up on the ridge, and was able to interpret them. It’s how the Chonao send long distance signals during secret attacks.”

Talis sagged with relief when Major q’Rindo blinked at her in surprise. “Please, Major,” she added, “we need to go after him right now. We’ll need lots of reinforcements.

There’s a whole regiment coming. If we can’t stop them, the Chonao are going to be attacking from our rear!”

The major hesitated, then shook his head. “That will be Colonel Bilani’s call, not mine,” he said. He signaled to a soldier. “You there! Take this news to the colonel, and tell him I shall be there in a moment to receive his orders.”

“Yes sir!” The trooper was off.

Talis wanted to scream with frustration. “Major, sir, we can’t wait for orders! You have to bring this company, and leave word for others to follow us!” she insisted. Her tension was communicated to the white charger, who began to dance beneath her. “If you don’t, everything that’s happened to Pela today will be for nothing! King Agivir will have died for nothing! We can’t let Kerezau win!”

Still the major hesitated, though he was plainly torn.

“Damnation, sir!” Talis shouted, “If you won’t go, then I’ll go alone. I owe that to the brave men and women who died here today! I owe that to King Agivir, who is doubtless still hovering over this battlefield, waiting for a Pelanese victory to bring him the peace he needs to go to the Goddess!”

She drew her sword, and the familiar ring of steel made the white horse snort and rear. Talis brought him down.

“Whoa, boy!” She turned to look at the line of men, her fellow troopers, her
comrades
. Her throat tightened.
I have to
appeal to them, get them to follow me! Goddess, help me
convince them!

She raised her sword. “Comrades in arms … who will ride with me to save Pela?”

One of the troopers in the front row was staring at her as if he’d seen a ghost. “Look at her!” he said, pointing. “Look what she’s riding! That’s Banner, by the Goddess—King Agivir’s charger! ’Tis a sign!”

Now the major, too, was staring at her mount. He rode his bay over and leaned over to look at the silver and gold mark-ings on the headstall of the bridle. “It is!” he said. “This is indeed Banner!” He glared at Talis. “Where did you get this horse?”

Talis sat up straighter. “He came to me, sir.” Realizing that she was sitting astride a dead king’s mount made her almost feel as though some of King Agivir’s leadership ability was flowing through her, strengthening her. She turned back to the troops. “Who’s with me?” she shouted.

Now voices were running through the ranks. “ ’Tis a sign, I tell you! A sign from the Goddess! We must go!”

Major q’Rindo made his decision. “You three”—he pointed quickly to three of the troopers—“each of you inform two of the reserve cavalry companies. Tell their commanders where we are headed. Tell them we need them to join us. You”—he pointed to another trooper—“locate General Osmando-Volon. Tell him what has happened. He needs to station reserve infantry along the perimeter of Ombal Pass to prevent any incursion. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir!”

Once the runners were away, Major q’Rindo turned to his troops. “Company Two, prepare to move out!”

He turned back to Talis. “Trooper Aloro, we will follow your lead.” He threw her a smart salute.

Talis barely kept her mouth from dropping open in astonishment. She gathered her scattered wits and raised her sword high. “Pela forever!”

“Pela forever!” the major echoed.

“PELA FOREVER!” Cheering, the company followed her lead.

There is definitely a storm coming,
Jezzil thought. The wind was whipping his hair as he rode, ducking under overhang-ing limbs, watching the path before them with every bit of alertness he could summon. At this speed a big rock or a limb in the path could prove disastrous. Falar was still galloping gamely on, but the mare no longer wanted to run. He could hear her breathing in hard, fast gasps.

Jezzil knew if he kept pushing her, she would fall and hurt them both, or she’d founder and that would be the end of her.

They had come nearly three miles in the heat, much of it uphill, at speed.
When we round the next corner,
he thought,
I’ll
stop her and get off and lead her. I can run for a mile or two,
and then get back on. I can—
They rounded the next corner and did stop, abruptly, because facing them was a large contingent of Chonao cavalry, with Barus in the lead.

Jezzil pulled Falar up, but it was too late; he’d been spotted. He hesitated, wondering what to do. Set the trees on

fire? Could he summon enough magic without the avundi-enhancing snuff, tired as he was? He cursed himself for not realizing that the attack force was so close.

Barus had halted his horse, too, and was staring at Jezzil with such amazement that, under other circumstances, it might have been funny.

“Jezzil!” he said blankly. “How did you get here? We thought you drowned.”

Jezzil smiled and shrugged. “The last time we met, I was about to ask you the same question when you slugged me. I thought
you
died at Taenareth. I was glad to see you when I found out you were alive. Too bad you didn’t feel the same.”

Barus made an impatient gesture. “I don’t find your feeble attempts at wit amusing. I ask you again—how did you get here?”

Jezill grinned at him.
Keep him talking.
“I got here on Falar, as you can see,” he replied.

Barus ignored the jest. He gestured, and in the next moment a score of pistols were leveled at Jezzil. “Tell me why you’re here.”

Jezzil thought fast. “I came to warn you. There’s a regiment of Pelanese cavalry on the way to intercept you. Turn back now and you might be able to get away.”

Barus stared at him for a moment, then laughed. “You expect me to believe you?”

“We were friends once. I’m telling you the truth,” Jezzil said, hoping fervently that he was, indeed, telling the truth.

“I don’t count cowards and deserters among my friends,”

Barus said.

Jezzil flushed, and had to force himself not to react to the taunt. “Listen to me, Barus. If you don’t want another mas-sacre like the one this morning, turn around and head back down that trail.”

“People with no honor are liars, as well as cowards,”

Barus said. “I’m under orders, and I’ll obey them.”

“By the way,” Jezzil said, “what fool ordered that charge at dawn?”

Barus gestured at his troops to stay back, then rode his sorrel closer to Jezzil. He stopped only a horse length away and lowered his voice. “As a matter of fact, Kerezau did,” he said softly. “But don’t worry, we made sure he won’t be issuing any more such orders.”

“Kerezau? Has the Redai gone mad?” Jezzil asked.

“He’s become increasingly erratic ever since that skirmish on the ship with that black-haired Katan bitch,” Barus replied. “We had to actually restrain him this morning.

Whatever she did to him, it’s been the ruin of a great leader.

But we still have able commanders. Pela will be ours.”

“I don’t think so,” Jezzil said. “Those rifled muskets are cutting you to pieces. If you don’t want to face them up here, turn around and head back down that trail before the Pelanese arrive.”

“You’re lying. There’s no one up here but you, and why you came, I can’t imagine. Not that it will do you a bit of good. First I’ll kill you, then I’m going to attack the rear of the Pelanese army and end this cursed battle before we run out of ammunition.”

“Oh-ho,” Jezzil said. “You’re running low?”

“Just between you, me, and the horses here, yes we are.

Bad intelligence. We didn’t expect this much resistance.

King Agivir is old and toothless, more prone to bargain than fight.”

“Attack a man’s homeland,” Jezzil said, “and he’ll fight.

Kerezau should have realized.”

“It didn’t help that we lost two of our supply ships, carrying mainly ammunition, in that bedamned storm,” Barus said. “But Kerezau was determined to attack.”

“I see,” Jezzil said.

“At any rate,” Barus said, “I have things to do, so I’ll thank you to dismount. If you surrender quietly and give me Falar, I may even let you live.”

“I don’t think I can do that,” Jezzil said evenly.

Barus raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Want to make me a coun-terproposal, then, or should I just have you shot now?”

Jezzil put his hand on his sword and raised his voice, to be sure the Chonao soldiers could hear him. “I challenge you,

Barus. Single combat. You always claimed you were better than I was. Let’s find out.”

Barus’s swarthy features darkened. “Enough wordplay and games, Jezzil. I don’t have time for it.”

“You always claimed you could beat me easily. Are you afraid to prove it?”

The soldiers murmured to each other. Barus flushed. He had always been quick-tempered, and Jezzil was counting on that.

“Come on, Barus, how long could it take? To beat one coward? Or are
you
the coward?”

With a wordless yell of rage, Barus drew his sword and put spurs to his horse. Jezzil was half a second late in reacting, but Falar, despite her weariness, was not. As she’d been trained, the mare reared back on her hind legs, then launched herself forward. Her fore hooves crashed into the sorrel’s chest, knocking the other mare off balance. With a surprised squeal, the sorrel went down. Falar nearly fell, too, but managed to lurch to her feet at the last second.

Barus’s extraordinarily quick reflexes saved him from being pinned. He reacted instinctively, kicking his feet loose from the stirrups, and landed standing, astride the struggling mare. He jumped clear and moved in on Jezzil.

Responding to leg pressure, Falar spun around, and Jezzil blocked Barus’s sword slash with his own blade. But the angle of fighting an opponent on the ground while mounted was awkward, though height gave him an advantage. Jezzil also knew that Barus might well try to disable him by bringing down Falar. He kicked his feet loose from his stirrups and leaped down.

With one part of his mind, he heard the Chonao troops cheering their leader. Jezzil resolutely ignored them, concentrating on what he was doing. Barus was a formidable opponent, faster and more experienced than he was. Jezzil was a little taller though, and heavier, with a slight advantage in reach.

Barus came in again, and they began to circle, testing each other, their blades kissing and sliding away. In the distance, Jezzil heard a rumble of thunder.
The storm is coming.

With a shout meant to distract, Barus feinted, then swung low, aiming for Jezzil’s legs. Jezzil swung his sword down, striking the blade aside. Their weapons rang out as they both came back up from the stroke, trying to press the advantage, blades sliding together until both guards touched. They paused for a second, breathing fast, close enough to embrace. “You fool,” Jezzil gritted, “I’m trying to save your life. Take your men and run.”

When he spoke the words, he wasn’t even sure if they were true, but he knew one thing: even supposing he could, he didn’t want to kill Barus.

“You were always soft, Jezzil,” Barus spat back. “And this time it’s going to get you killed.”

They disengaged, both of them leaping backward, and this time it was Jezzil who feinted. He thrust at Barus’s midsection, then turned his sword at the last possible moment, aiming for his opponent’s wrist, trying to disarm him.

Barus’s blade nicked Jezzil’s upper arm just as Jezzil’s blade reached its target. Barus cried out as his fingers loosened, and his sword spun away.