Stronger than Bone (26 page)

(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)

Duke Dennison’s army was completely unopposed as they marched from village to village and town to town. They cut a dark swath across the northern area of the kingdom heading from west to east. The nobles were promised new land and holdings in direct correlation to the efficiency and thoroughness with which they dispatched their duties. In turn they promised their soldiers monetary reward and compensation to match the vicious speed with which they carried out their orders. Smoke filled the sky, and screams echoed off the hills as the army moved steadily east and then turned to the south.

As the army moved south, they had scouts riding far to the east and west. The scouts rode fast and spread the Duke’s message to all they encountered. “Your new King is coming! Oppose his army, and you will die! Aid the Priest-King’s army, and you will die!” The riders met resistance at some villages, but moved too fast for any solid offense to be mounted against them.

The main army moved through each village and town in the same manner. Riders went ahead and delivered the Duke’s message. If any resistance was met, two thousand horses would ride through in a cloud of destruction followed by five thousand brutish foot soldiers. Devastation was complete and final in all cases. Many in the Duke’s own army wondered,
“Who will be left for the new King to rule?”

For the Duke, this was a necessary means to secure a peaceful end. No one would dare oppose him while he commanded such a ruthless and powerful army. Reports of similar results came to him from the rebel army, which had travelled south and then east. They had met and pushed through resistance at two of the major cities they had marched through, and had suffered only minor casualties. The main force of the King’s army remained within the walls of the capital city.

The Duke’s army was still half a mile north of the crossing at North River when the scouts reported back and he ordered a halt. “There were bodies and debris everywhere, your Lordship,” the head scout reported. “The rebels must have attacked the battalion earlier, somewhere east of the river crossing. The battalion was in a hurry to cross because they left many of their supplies and wagons.” He paused there, looking uncomfortable.

He swallowed and continued, saying, “There are rebel horses and soldiers dead along the banks of the river…and the ferry is gone.”

“All of them?” yelled the Duke, pounding his fist on his thigh in anger. “Wasn’t any of the rebel cavalry still alive?”

“If they were Lord, they’ve gone. All of the tracks are headed west, toward the capital. None go back east, so if they are alive, they’re in pursuit of the battalion. There was a large group of rebel foot soldiers marching…well, walking up the road, but they were in terrible shape. They had a few mounted riders with them, but like I said, they were all in pretty bad shape. They looked…well…dead, or almost.”

The Duke looked into the distance and fumed. He sat as still as a stone, waiting for his rage to subside. Finally, in a level tone he said, “Obviously I overestimated the General’s abilities. Give the order to march.” Losing patience again he snapped, “We’re wasting time!” The army slowly began grinding its way south toward the ocean and their rendezvous.

(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)

“We’re running out of time. I need options…any ideas?” asked Lynn of his officers. They were congressing on horseback beside the road while the battalion and what was left of the supply train hurried by. He looked directly at each of them one at a time, letting them know he was open to all ideas regardless of rank.

“Sir,” said one of the junior Lieutenants who had recently been promoted from the enlisted ranks. “They’re moving faster than us. We have to slow them down to give these folks any kind of chance.” He glanced around, still a little unsure if it was really okay to speak up.

“Go on Lieutenant,” Captain Brente said.

“Well, sir, we’ve passed a few narrow spots that would be pretty easy to mess up even more. We’ll be hitting another narrow patch up ahead with a drop on the downhill side. We could put up a pretty good road block there and maybe an ambush up above.”

Another Lieutenant took his lead and also spoke up. “Sir, I was thinking about Hidden Valley. Why don’t we set fire to the forest as we pass the thickest parts? It might not stop ‘em, but it’ll sure make it suck to ride through. It might just slow ‘em down a little more.”

Chase nodded his head and said, “Sir, with your permission, I’d like to assign a series of running ambushes to each of the companies. I like the way these men are thinking. We can knock the heck out of them and slow them down with a continuous barrage of sneak attacks and ambushes. We’ll hurt them, and keep them guessing while the civilians keep pushing west.”

The Colonel smirked and bowed his head for a moment. The officers all exchanged questioning looks. At last, he lifted his head with a mischievous smile on his face.

“Lieutenant,” he said looking at the first officer who spoke up. “You and your platoon scoot ahead and get working on that road block and ambush.” He looked at the Lieutenant’s commanding officer and said, “Captain, you give this young man what he needs to get this done and then report to my Battle Captain.”

Turning to the second Lieutenant he said, “LT, you and your boys get ready to light some trees on fire.”

“Captain Brente, stay with the civilians and get them to the capital no matter what,” he said. He looked his Executive Officer in the eyes, and his face hardened. He was trusting Corvis with his family, and the Captain knew it.

“Yes sir,” the big man said, accepting the responsibility with honor.

“Major Martin,” he said as he turned to his Battle Captain. His eyes narrowed. He clenched his teeth and growled, “Make these Son’s of Bitches bleed!”

Closer to the capital, Corvis, and forty other mounted and heavily armed soldiers, escorted the civilians as fast as they could travel to the capital. They enveloped the caravan to protect them from every angle as they moved. Charity and Joszette were in the center, toward the front where he could keep an eye on their wagon. Guy was conscious and riding in the front of the wagon directly behind them, holding a crossbow.
“That’s one tough man”
thought Corvis.
“He’s taken more licks than most, but somehow he keeps getting back up.”

A Lieutenant and three Sergeants kept the men in perfect order as they rode, and four scouts kept watch ahead and took turns reporting back. It was a well-disciplined unit and the civilians in the middle felt as safe as could be expected in such a situation.

They took no breaks other than to let the horses drink briefly at a couple of stream crossings, and by sunset they could see the castle in the distance. As expected, spirits rose and smiles became more abundant. Everyone, including Corvis, could almost taste the sweet flavor of good wine, smell the delicious aroma of fresh, hot food, and feel the comforting warmth of a soft bed.

He shook his head and remembered they were not inside the walls of the city yet. Captain Brente gave orders for the men to be extra vigilant as they approached the city and everyone; even the civilians, became more alert.

They made it inside without further incident.

Guy’s body was wrecked. He needed sleep and stillness, and lots of both of them. When the group arrived at the capital and slowed to a walking march toward the castle, he hopped down from the wagon and took his aching bones into the Hind Sight. His gait was ungainly as usual, but a little better than it had been since his last trip to the city. His brother had “lightened his load” a bit by taking the coin purse that was hidden in his wooden leg. He still felt the familiar lump of a second purse hidden in the boot of his good leg though, and he smiled as he imagined the possibilities those coins could make reality.

“Hi handsome!” smiled the busty and wildly inappropriate serving girl he had met on his last stay. “Have a seat, love. I’ll bring you something warm and delicious,” she said with a suggestive wink.

Guy couldn’t help but smile as he sat at a table against the back wall and let the tension drain out of his back and neck. Just the fact that the seat wasn’t moving about or bumping up and down was a relief. “Dear God, I need a good rest,” he thought as his eye lids began to feel heavy.

“Here you go sugar,” said Hannah, leaning across the table to place the plate of hot meat in front of him. Her blouse was cut low and her bosom threatened to spill out as she bent over. He looked up at her eyes and smiled at her for a moment before digging into the food in front of him. She walked back to the kitchen with an exaggerated sway of the hips, obviously feeling good about being the center of attention.

Guy shook his head and smiled. “Some things never change,” he mumbled as he stuffed another bite into his mouth.

Captain Brente was all business as he gave quick instructions to the Sergeant at the gate. In seconds, soldiers were running to follow the orders they were given. Word was being sent to the Castle that the Colonel was engaged in a running battle along the road to the capital and reinforcements were needed. Another soldier was running to retrieve an escort detail for the civilians, while yet another was off to the stables to bring new mounts for the Major and his forty men.

Corvis walked his horse next to Charity’s wagon and told her, “The two of you,” and he looked at her and Joszette directly, “go with the escorts directly to the castle. The Colonel will meet you there as soon as he gets back. I already let the guards know who you are and they’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

He could see the worry in Charity’s eyes and he added, “Charity, I’m taking all of these men and we’re going back to get your dad. I’ll make sure he gets here safely.”

The Corporal who had been detailed to stay with her looked unsure if he was to stay or go. He looked from Charity to the Captain and back. Corvis looked at the young man and sighed. “Corporal, you’ll be staying here to watch over the Colonel’s daughter as he ordered.”

“But sir…,” the blond haired young man began to argue.

“No buts, Corporal. Do you want to answer to the Colonel if anything happens to his daughter?” Corvis asked. “I sure as hell don’t.”

“No sir,” said the Corporal.

“Just because we are in the capital doesn’t mean she’s safe. I want you within arm’s reach at all times. Is that understood?”

“Yes sir.” He looked at Charity with a look of concern and then back at the Captain.

“When she sleeps, you will be armed and you will be outside her door. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” said the Corporal again, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Corvis nodded as if agreeing with his decision to keep the Corporal on the protective detail, and then turned back to the gate. He and the other soldiers dismounted inside the gates and began stripping the gear off their mounts. They would re-load it onto the fresh mounts that were on the way. Within thirty minutes they were back on the road with fresh horses and two hundred new troops. Although he was hoping for many more troops, Captain Brente would take what he could get. His mind was made up. They were determined and ready for anything as they galloped bravely toward a much larger enemy.

(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)

Lieutenant Racone was starting to believe they might actually pull off his plan as he watched another boulder tip and roll awkwardly down the hill and stop on the road. Whether it stopped them or just slowed them down wouldn’t matter as much as the way it would break their formation up. They would have to come through the obstacle in single file, making them a ripe target for the much smaller force to engage.

Farther on, other men were hastily digging away at the downward side of the road, making it even narrower and more treacherous. The rocks above those areas were also loosened, but not pushed down the hill. Another team was farther down the road, behind his other workers, preparing a surprise for any scouts who decided to turn back and warn the main body of what lay ahead. They were working in the trees and beside the road.

All of the Lieutenant’s workers were hitting it hard. They refused to rest or to be relieved, and they felt immense pride in what they were doing. If their work could save their brother’s lives and kill some rebels while they were at it, then by God, they were going to get it done!

A horse and rider came galloping up the road with a warning that the enemy was approaching. Lieutenant Racone shouted the command to get ready and his men scrambled up the hill, or into the woods as they had planned. One of the privates, a huge young man with big muscles and a small intellect, looked confused and didn’t follow the others.
“Oh hell…There’s always one,”
thought the Lieutenant.

“Get off the road you stupid lunk!” shouted his Sergeant. The private, who was turning in circles as if he couldn’t tell where the voice had come from, was still standing in the boulder field on the road when the first riders came up the road. He ducked down behind a boulder and hid.

There were two of the rebel horsemen, and they were obviously scouts. They reined in their mounts when they saw the road blocked and turned to head back the way they had come. Seconds later the horses were seen running back up the road without their riders. Two of the soldiers ran down the hill and took their reins. They led them beyond the obstacles to a more gradual slope. Then they raced them up the hill to the makeshift corral where the rest of the mounts were tied.

The riders came limping up the road next, closely followed by two of the mounted King’s Guards who had their swords drawn and pointed down at the rebels in front of them. They walked them up the road and into the rock obstacles. Suddenly the mounted soldiers rushed their mounts forward and trampled the rebel soldiers, leaving them lying helpless and broken in the road amidst an apparent landslide. They galloped ahead to join the next group, having finished playing their part in the Lieutenant’s plan.

The hiding soldier took that opportunity to run up the hill and join his comrades. “What’s going on?” he said out of breath as he ducked down in the grass at the top with the others. He looked genuinely curious as to what everyone was up to. His Sergeant just looked at him and slowly shook his head.
“Amazing,”
the Sergeant thought.
“Just…wow.”

Twenty minutes later the first ranks of the rebel cavalry came charging up the road. They reined in just as the scouts had, but they did not turn back. More and more ranks fell in behind them as those in front assessed the situation from a distance. The Lieutenant could see them pointing at the rocks and looking around for answers. A red haired warrior with leather vambraces on his forearms rode to the front and took charge. He sent a rider forward to get a closer look.

When he got close to the boulders he eyed the hillside above suspiciously.

“Come on,”
thought the Lieutenant nervously.

The rebel soldier’s head snapped to the front and he urged his horse forward slowly.

“He hears them!”
thought Racone, and adrenalin began coursing through his veins.

The rebel soldier spun his mount around and raced back to the others. He pointed frantically at the boulders as he made his report. He shook his head and then nodded in answer to questions he was obviously being asked by the General.

The General gave an order and the entire unit began riding forward again. He believed the ruse! Lieutenant Racone watched excitedly as the General’s riders approached the boulders. The obstacles forced them into a single column, as planned. He saw General Virden look up suspiciously at the hillside where they were hiding, but the column continued riding slowly ahead.

The Lieutenant counted under his breath as the riders passed through the obstacles. “…ten, eleven, twelve…” After what seemed like hours, fifty riders had passed and he gave a whistle. There was a slight delay and then boulders began rolling down the hill toward the single file column on the narrow road below.

Shouts erupted and chaos ensued. Some of the riders were caught completely off guard and were bowled right off the road and over the cliff. Others saw what was coming and tried to race ahead or turn around. Horses ran into each other and knocked their own riders off, or fell over the edge themselves.

Soldiers on top of the hill threw fist size rocks down at the riders on the road with deadly accuracy. Some raced to untie their mounts and hold them ready for the escape.

The rebels tried to force their horses up the steep hill above the road and tumbled down before reaching the top. The General ordered a hundred men to dismount and climb the hill on foot. They immediately obeyed, leaving their horses on the road and charged upward.

The remaining soldiers on top of the hill fell back to the waiting horses and all but two rode ahead, along the ridge top, to rejoin the rest of the force. The other two turned and raced back into the trees behind the rebels and disappeared.

The rebel soldiers who reached the top were out of breath. They looked around for something to fight and found nothing. Turning back to look down on the road they saw a sobering sight. Their horses were running frantically through the obstacle field, now littered with the crushed and trampled bodies of dead horses and men, despite the efforts of other soldiers to keep them in place on the other side of the boulders. Smoke was pouring out of the woods behind the rebel force and crackling flames could be heard, sowing more fear and confusion in the rebel ranks and spooking the horses. Adding insult to injury, the King’s Guards who had set the blaze thundered back across the hilltop and past the rebels before they could react. One of the riders was a lieutenant, and he was grinning from ear to ear.

Lynn and Chase stood among a small group of soldiers who were not actively cutting down trees or setting fires to slow down the advancing enemy. There were still a few hundred of the enemy to contend with, but they were moving much slower and losing men at every engagement. By now the civilians were at the capital. Everything they did now to weaken the rebels, Lynn considered a bonus.

The Sergeant Major, also in the group, walked a few feet into the woods to relieve his bladder. One by one, the other members of the group also answered the call of nature. Lynn finally took his turn and walked alone into the woods. He didn’t go far before he stopped and opened the front of his trousers. His axe was bundled in his bed roll on the back of his horse, and his sword was sheathed and slung over his shoulder and down his back as he had carried it in Hidden Valley. As he began urinating, he closed his eyes. He let his shoulders drop and sighed with relief. He hadn’t even realized he had been so tense.

“The King’s Champion…should I be impressed?” said a deep and gravelly voice from somewhere to his right.

The hair on Lynn’s neck stood on end and his eyes snapped open. He closed his trousers casually and turned toward the origin of the voice. An uncommonly tall figure rose from a crouching position and squared off with him. Lynn’s eye twitched involuntarily and nearly imperceptibly as he processed what he was seeing. In front of him stood the ruined body of a man whom he had killed with his own blade. He witnessed the same man suffer a second death, years later. If there was any doubt as to who it was, he only had to look at the awful hat on Death’s head to verify his identity. No one else would wear such a hideous and gruesome looking hat.

The former rebel Lieutenant was familiar to Lynn, but he had obviously changed. He barely looked human. He was heavily scarred, ghostly pale, gaunt, and reeked of death. He carried no weapon in his hands, although Lynn could see several knives tucked away in his belt and under his vest.

“You’ve looked better,” Lynn said as he reached up and took hold of the handle of his sword. Instantly, the giant swept forward and back handed him with such force that he was knocked off of his feet.

While falling backward, he pushed the sword from his mind and reached instead for the knife in his belt. Simultaneously, his back hit the forest floor and the knife was thrust out in front of him. He felt the weight of the giant pressing down on him before his eyes registered the creature.
“He’s incredibly fast!”
he thought as he stabbed ferociously at the body on top of him. His knife only pierced clothing while Death used his bare hands and sharpened nails to tear at his skin.

Lynn cried out as his side was ripped open and his ribs were scored with inhuman claws. His mind didn’t fully register what was happening to him physically, just that there was pain and that this big monster needed to be dead right now. He pushed, stabbed, punched, and kicked while twisting and scrambling to get out from under the bigger man. They struggled in near silence as each was focused completely on killing the other.

Lynn felt his knife make purchase and a surge of power and satisfaction rushed through him as he cut his enemy deeply. He kept twisting and shoving it in at angles, rather than pulling it out to stab again. He couldn’t risk missing again so he tried to tear as big a hole as possible wherever he had stuck him.

Death reeled back with wide eyes. He held a bloody hand to a gaping hole in the side of his neck. He stumbled backward for several steps and then disappeared into the trees.

Lynn collapsed back on the forest floor and the world started to spin.
“Oh crap,”
he thought.
“This can’t be good…damn.”

He faintly heard the Sergeant Major calling out to him, “Colonel!” he heard in the far distance. “I need help over here!” he heard from even farther away. That was strange because it looked like the Sergeant Major was standing over him right now. Then the world slipped away completely and everything went black.