The Invisible Chains - Part 3: Bonds of Blood (52 page)

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Authors: Andrew Ashling

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BOOK: The Invisible Chains - Part 3: Bonds of Blood
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From his position, Anaxantis couldn't see it but the Landemere Contingent had finally arrived. General Hormi Adolmach took up his place beside the Ximerionian Army of the North. After having taken care of that he rode over to commander Tarngord to be appraised of the current situation. The commander explained it to him in short, stilted sentences and informed the general that he, general Tarngord, had temporary taken over supreme command in the absence of the prince, who was engaging the enemy on the field.

Since this was in full accord with the dispositions taken before the battle, Adolmach nodded.

“Go back to the Contingent general, and await my orders. They will be soon forthcoming,” the old commander said curtly.

When he was gone, Nurri, his aide camp, looked at him.

“Shouldn't we attack? I mean, to relieve the prince? His situation is growing more desperate by the minute and now, with the Landemere Contingent here, we could send their cavalry to rescue him.”

He had almost whispered it. Tarngord looked at him.

“No,” he said, “my responsibility is to keep this army in one piece. His highness is reaping what he sowed.”

“But he is counting on us,” the aide de camp tried again.

“That may be, but there is more at stake. If this battle is lost, I plan to retreat with this army intact to the Amirathan hills. As we should have done to begin with. And that's the end of it, Nurri. He got himself in this plight. He can pull himself out as well. I'm not risking the whole kingdom for an intrepid princeling.”


I'm doing the right thing, am I not?”
he thought. Was he really just concerned for the safety and survival of the Ximerionian heartlands? Or was he taking revenge for whatever slight he felt the prince had done him?

He shook his head. He was the commander in chief of the Army of the North, wasn't he? Appointed by his friend and king. That was to whom he owed his loyalty. Not to his obstinate son.

From their vantage point Timishi was following the action in the valley.

“Why isn't that part of his army moving?” Rodomesh asked, not understanding the lack of action of the Ximerionian army.

“I have no idea, Rodo, but I smell treason. Their officers must see what is happening. Anashantish is almost surrounded. He can't possibly get out of this quandary by himself.”

“Let's go then,” Rodomesh urged Timishi on, as he had done earlier.

“We've only got some three hundred warriors...”

“We have the advantage of surprise. They won't be expecting an attack in their rear.”

“Yes, we could cross the river there, behind Shigurtish, and then it's a straight line to where Anashantish is.

But everything pleads against it.”

Timishi was still hesitating.

“I know, rouwin,” Rodomesh said. “It's riding straight into Shardosh's arms.”

“It's suicide.”

“It's an irresponsible stupidity.”

“It could mean our un="8pt"an jusdoing.”

Rodomesh grinned.

“So, we're going in?”

“Of course we are. We can't let him go down without at least having tried,” Timishi grinned back.

He drew his sword and raised it high above his head. He guided his horse to the slope at his left. His warriors followed him.


This may be the end of the Wolf Mukthars.”
he thought. ”
At least we'll be going out in a blaze of glory.”

Chapter 13:

Tmeritektos

Obyann looked on while the pages were running around from here to there, hauling buckets of water, unloading wagons with boxes of medicines and instruments, and generally making themselves useful.

Everything was going smoothly. Every patrol leader knew what to do and was actually doing it.

He snorted with a kind of loath contentment.

Time to take a look how the battle was going. He went through the narrow patch of trees and immediately saw what was happening. To his left the Amirathan Infantry was barely holding its own against an enemy far superior in numbers. In the distance, to his far right, he saw another engagement. A helmet with a big white plume clearly indicated that his highness was there himself. Completely encircled as he was, his position seemed desperate. A small cavalry unit was making its way to the place of conflict. However, the Ximerionian Army wasn't moving. Neither was the Landemere Contingent.

He hurried back through the trees and looked around.

“Hey, Landemere,” he yelled at Arranulf, “quick, come with me.”

Both the pages emerged again at the other side of the trees.

“His highness is getting slaughtered there,” Arranulf said.

“You
think
?” Obyann sneered. “And look at the Landemere Contingent. Not moving an inch.”

But Arranulf didn't hear the last sentence. He was underway, back through the trees, looking for his horse.

The young duke was already riding around the little wood when Obyann caught up with him. Cursing he went looking for his own horse.

Iftang Busskal was surprised to see Arranulf riding past him and come to a halt in front of commander Tarngord. He decided to follow him, which was why he was there to overhear their conversation.

“General,” he heard the page say in an unusual harsh tone for such a soft spoken boy, “his highness is in trouble. Why isn't my cavalry moving?”

“Your cavalry, boy?” the old commander snarled. “In the absence of the lord governor I am the commander in chief and I—”

“I am the duke of Landemere, old man, and you will address me as such. In the absence of the regent of Landemere I command the Contingent.”

It had sounded biting, with a condescending edge that on">It had Conly the old nobility could produce. A strange glint flickered for a moment in the young duke's right eye.

“Your grace, a moment, please,” Iftang intervened. “If you could order your cavalry to ride in to the left of his highness's position, I'll go in to the right. We could try to hack out a corridor for him to escape through.”

Arranulf turned his head, surprised, and then nodded his ascent.

“Have you gone mad, general,” commander Tarngord roared. “I haven't given you permission for any of this.”

The general seemed to want to embark on a long, reasonable explanation for his intended actions. He shook his head.

“Fuck you, Demrac,” general Iftang, Baronet Busskal, barked at his commander. “Fuck you.”

Both Arranulf and Iftang rode off, in opposite directions, leaving a perplexed Tarngord behind.

Moments later the young duke arrived before the Landemere Contingent and its staff.

“Ah, captain Adolmach... Sorry, it's general Adolmach now, isn't it?”

“Your grace, what are you doing here? It is dangerous—”

“Not as dangerous as the situation his highness is in. You have a thousand cavalry men. Why aren't they moving?”

“General Tarngord is the acting commander in chief and he has ordered us to wait.”

“I am countermanding that order. We're going to the rescue of the prince. Now.”

General Adolmach scraped his throat.

“Your grace, this doesn't seem very wise...” he began hesitantly.

“Maybe not, general. So I'll give you a choice.” Arranulf smiled. “Who would you rather face: the duchess Athildis to tell her you let her grandson, your duke, and the last of the Landemeres, ride on his own into battle... or a mere few thousand Mukthars?”

The general laughed.

“I value my life. I'd rather face the Mukthars any day of the week,” he said.

At that moment the small Ximerionian cavalry charged.

“Then I propose we go now,” Arranulf said, drawing his sword. “We're going to be late at the party as it is, it seems.”

General Adolmach nodded.

“Mind if I join you myself, your grace?”

“Be my guest, general,” Arranulf smiled. Turning his horse he yelled, “All for Landemere.”


Hold out,”
he thought. “
hold out for just a few minutes longer, Hemarchidas.”

The Landemere war cry was taken up by both the infantry as the charging cavalry.

Demrac Tarngord sat on his horse as made out of stone. Before him two cavalry units were storming into battle. Behind him he heard barely suppressed whispers. Mocking whispers.


My whole life I have been loyal to my friend and king.”
he though bitterly. ”
I have served Ximerion and the
Tanahkos dynasty to the best of my ability. I have been a good soldier. And I will go down in the chronicles
as Fuck-You-Demrac.”

Obyann came just ineight=e j th time around the bend of the little wood to see the Landemere cavalry charging off.


You bloody fool,”
he raged silently. “
You were supposed to send them in the field. Not to go yourself. You're
going to get yourself killed.”

He hesitated for a minute, then gave his horse the spurs and followed the charge.

In his turn Rahendo had seen Obyann ride into battle. Nervous as hell he was, but that wasn't going to stop him. As he was untying his horse, Ryhunzo saw him.

“What are you doing?” he asked worriedly, without his usual flowery aplomb.

“It's Obie and Nulfie. You stay here. I can't let them go alone. I told you what they did for me. I'm just going to get them back.”

“And you were thinking of going without me?”

“Oh, Pookie, it's not necessary—”

“You dropped your sword last time we exercised. Twice.”

“It's dangerous. I don't want anything to happen to you, Pookie.”

“What could happen to me as long as you are with me?” Ryhunzo replied with a confident smile.

Bortram saw the two young pages galloping by and shouted after them to come back. They paid him no heed whatsoever.

“I'll get them,” Lorcko, who had watched the whole scene, said.

Before Bortram could say anything he had run away to fetch his own horse.

He took the other side around the wood.

Looking out over the valley, he saw both cavalries charging and three lone horsemen following them. Being slightly nearsighted, he had to strain his eyes. In his turn he descended the slope and gave chase.

When he had traveled halfway the distance, he could more or less discern what was happening. Then he saw

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