The Protector of Esparia (The Annals of Esparia Book 1) (41 page)

She had no idea what she was looking for; just anything out of the ordinary.  She was not very confident in her success, but when she reached the end road’s dead end, with no sign of her man, she felt disappointment none-the less. 

Turning her horse to go back to the main thoroughfare, she scanned the immediate row of homes once again, and this time something caught her eye.  A bright red scarf poked through the shutters of a second story window, two houses down.  It had not been there a few moments earlier.  She stared at the odd pennant.  If someone wanted to get her attention, they had succeeded. 

Dismounting, she walked to the door below the red scarf.  She knocked softly and glanced around, but the street remained empty.  When no one answered, she knocked again.  This time the door opened.

“Please stay here,” she told the mare.  The animal nodded.  Taking a deep breath, she walked in.  The door quickly closed behind her.

A rush of cool air washed over her, a relief to the stifling temperature outside.  The room was darker than the alley had been, making it difficult to see.  She sensed others in the room.  Slowly her eyes adjusted.  A wooden table with three chairs around it was in the center of the small room, and what looked like a wooden couch covered in pillows against the far wall.  The floor of the home was made of stone with several tan, braided rugs thrown about, but the walls were bare.  Through a doorway to her right was a kitchen, and on her left was a staircase against the wall leading to the upper level. 

She removed the scarf covering her hair. 

“I told you she was the one,” a man said from behind. 

Startled, she jumped with a yelp and spun around.  Dressed in dusty, dark brown clothing, four long-haired, bearded men stood staring at her.  One of them was the man she was looking for. 

She had anticipated this moment, but now was not quite sure what to say.  “I, uh, I was looking for you.”  With no nauseous warnings disturbing her stomach, she took courage and ventured, “I’m Jessica, granddaughter of Graesion and Gayleena of the house of Saylon.” 

“I know who you are.”  The man did not smile, but his eyes were warm and friendly. 

“A war has begun,” she continued.  “Do you have any news?  My father, John Ernshaw the Healer, leads our army.”

He motioned toward the table.  Jessica, followed by the men, sat on an offered chair.  “My name is Farin.  I am the leader of the Demarian freemen in this portion of Demar.”

He motioned for his comrades to sit also.  “Doran here,” he indicated the middle of the three men who were now seating themselves cross-legged on the floor in front of her, “just returned last night from Palium and can give you news.”

Doran, a man with sad, gray eyes, cleared his throat.  He sat very rigid and spoke softly.  With a report devoid of detail, he told her significant facts.  “At first, the war went against your army.  When it looked the worst, a large group of giants arrived and turned the battle to their favor.”

Jessica gasped.  “So the giants came!  I’ll bet Daenon was furious!”

“No doubt,” Farin said dryly.

“That was a week ago,” Doran continued.  “Now the army marches toward Palium.  A northern army is already in Snow Peak.  Daenon’s men are on the run.”

“We are called Ghost Walkers,” Farin added.  “We are native Demarians who hate Daenon.  He and his father before him have plundered our land and robbed us of our natural resources.  He uses our own water as leverage against us and many of our people are no longer enchanted by his ways of ruling.  Protector John has ordered an invasion of the Deserts of Demar.  That is why we are here now, to finish gathering our forces and be ready to help when he comes.”

“This is great news!”  Jessica was relieved.  She now knew her father had not been captured and he would soon come to free her.  “Thank you.  I should go now.  I don’t want you in danger by staying here too long, but I’ve one request.  If it’s possible, could you help free the men and women who are held slaves at Rendaira?”

“When the time is right, someone will be there,” Farin promised.  “If you need to contact us, give a message to Cook Stratin.  Every other day, a fresh delivery of dairy products is made to Rendaira.  She will give the note to the deliveryman and he will give it to me.  We are leaving this house tonight, so you will not find us here again.”

“I understand,” Jessica nodded.  “Good luck and be ready.  If I know my father, he’ll be here sooner than you think.”  She stood up and the men did too.  She shook each man’s hand, beginning with Farin’s.  “If your other men are anything like you four, then Daenon doesn’t stand a chance.” 

They saluted.

When she reached the estate that evening, Jessica forced herself to be calm.  She needed to hide her news, especially from Chak, who again waited for her at the front door.  “Any amusements today?” his voice was haughty and condescending.

“No,” Jessica snapped.  “The dine is dingy and dirty and the people are like zombies.  It’s more depressing there than here.  I won’t be going again.”

Jessica was forced to sit on her news for an entire day before she managed to whisk Merula away from her duties at the mansion.  In the back garden, with only the flowers to overhear, Jessica told about the adventure in Asmerth and how freedom loomed, at last, within site. 

“The northern army is in Snow Peak right now.  That means Lepsis is on his way, too,” she reminded Merula.  “Spread the word so the staff’ll be ready.  I don’t know what to expect.  I’m sure there’ll be a battle, but at least it will be a battle that can be won.”

Jessica had never taken notice of the deliveries before, but now she intently watched for each one.  When the dairy delivery came, she was sitting in the kitchen, helping to peel vegetables.  She had no message to give, but wanted to see the person who was her link to hope. 

A small, bearded man with bright eyes and long hair pulled back in a braid, the dairyman brought in several tall urns of milk and large rounds of cheese.  He joked with Cook Stratin and the other servants as they helped him unload his wagon.  He gave a slight bow to Jessica just before he left.  Jessica later learned the men of the underground vowed to never cut their hair until Demar was free from Daenon’s tyrannical rule.

Nearly two months crept by with no news about the war.  The few soldiers left at Rendaira were showing signs of strain.  With hair trigger tempers, beatings were more and more common.  Though no one ever dared to touch Jessica, she was no longer allowed to take a horse, and her movements were restricted to the grounds immediately surrounding the mansion. 

Finally, the dairyman came with a note.  The cook slipped it to Merula, and Merula gave it to Jessica late at night when everyone else had gone to bed.  By the light of a small candle she read it aloud.

Palium and Snow Peak are free.  Esparian forces moved into Demar two days ago.

Jessica burned the note.  Merula’s eyes shone with excitement.  “Finally, I can go home.”

“Hopefully it will be soon,” Jessica added.  “But I think some of the hardest fighting is ahead.  The border may be only a few days away, but this is Demar, and the native people won’t allow Esparia in without putting up a fight.”

The Battle for the Deserts of Demar

Addex stood at attention inside Daenon’s opulent tent.  It was the first lodging to be set up after the Demarian retreat, and the last of the support stakes had, only minutes before, been pounded into place.  An angry and frustrated Daenon was pacing like a caged tiger.  “Victory should have been swift!  The strategy was so well prepared, battle plans carefully developed and everything laid out in detail.”  He shook a fist above his head.  “I made a mistake, not invading immediately after destroying Haesom.  Ballian’s information piqued my interest and I wanted to capture Graesion’s heir.”  He ran his fingers through his short hair.  “My hesitation gave them too much time to prepare.  I will
never
make that mistake again.”  He stopped pacing and faced Addex.  “But the giants, the giants have taken me by surprise.  They’ve always stayed to themselves, not venturing from their mountains.  Didn’t our ally assure you he could keep them out of this war?”

“Yes,” Addex was thoughtful.  “I don’t know why he failed.  He led me to believe he had enough power to influence any debate to our favor.”

“Obviously, he over-estimated himself.  These fools,” Daenon waved his arm in the general direction of the open tent door, where soldiers could be seen setting up camp, “they ran…
they ran
!  So here we are, pushed back nearly thirty filons from where we were yesterday.”

“Our spies tell me the Esparians are not in pursuit.  They rest,” Addex ventured. 

“A small reprieve.  I never anticipated defeat, so we have no resorts of protection.  No one sleeps.  I want the men to spend day and night throwing up walls and digging traps.  Let’s see how well the Esparian army does when the earth caves in underneath them.”

So the command was carried out.  Pits were dug and imbedded with knife-sharp spikes.  They did not have to be deep, only unseen and deadly.  The weight of a man tripping into one would be enough to impale him.  The Demarians were careful to conceal their traps with small branches covered with tufts of grass.  

Once this was done and the Esparians were seen advancing, Daenon called Addex to him again.  “Now I want you to organize a force of two thousand Elitet.  Arrange them in groups of one hundred and send them into Palium.  I want the land swept clean of everything; a scorched earth campaign.  I want your Elitet to round up the people. Anyone too old, too young or too sick to march will be left to starve, or executed, you decide.  As we follow, we’ll seize anything of value and burn the rest.  Nothing will be left for the advancing Esparians, not one person, animal, or stalk of grain.  Any men you find, those between the ages of twelve and one hundred twenty, will join my army.

“I want hostages,” he finished.  “Women and small children as they are the most sympathetic.  Also the very elderly who can travel.  Anyone unable, just kill them.”

* * *

With the giants as allies, and three days of rest, John’s Esparians were ready to fight with renewed vigor.  Reese sent word of the giant’s timely arrival in his camp and renewed troop morale.  The time had come to advance on Palium. 

John never realized Daenon’s men would be able to rig so many deadly traps in so short a time as three days.  Innumerable and well hidden, the pits proved to be effective and deadly.  Hundreds of front-line Esparian soldiers fell to their deaths before John even knew what had happened.  He himself missed a trap by only inches.  

Slowing their advance, they now spent time clearing the fields before them.  The concealed death pits enraged the Esparians and John fanned the anger.  When his men finally reached the Demarians, they hit them with such force, they broke the enemy ranks within hours.  Following close behind the retreating enemy, John found massive destruction, the dead, and the suffering.  His men spent a great deal of time extinguishing the burning fields to salvage at least some of the summer crops.  The homes, barns, and buildings made of wood were smoldering ashes by the time he reached them, and those made of stone or brick were smashed beyond repair.  A full division was put to gathering, then burying the dead, both human and animal.  How many were killed though, no one was certain, as they soon discovered the burned buildings also contained the remains of partially cremated bodies.  The few living persons found hiding in ponds and rock crevices were shown extraordinary kindness.  It was from them John learned of the hostages. 

Never before had he felt such anger.  With every step that led him further into Palium, his outrage grew.  Daenon was leaving behind a message, and John wanted to shove it back down the man’s throat.  He would be glad when this monster was taken out of power.  Reese’s reports were filled with tidings of the same appalling brutalities.  Only twenty filons into Palium, John called a meeting.  Tor, Ru and Lyrista, along with several other officers, were gathered.  “Our advance scouts report the Demarians are fortifying the major dines, concentrating their forces.  House-to-house fighting would be grueling, as well as costly in lives.  There must be a better way.  Suggestions?”  He hoped for several good ideas. 

Tor came up with a plan.  “Your enemy has taken all living things with him, including livestock.  We can assume he has left nothing in these dines.  His men then, would be dependent upon supply lines for their sustenance.  If we can destroy these supply lines, cutting the armies off, it would be only a matter of time before those left in the dines run out of food.  Without supplies, they would have to give up or starve.” 

“We’ll need to keep our men in tight formation,” Ru observed.  “Daenon will no doubt have quick strike units trying to pick off our outlying camps.”

“All right,” John nodded.  “But I won’t divide my army.  We’ll do this dine by dine.  Reese will start with the most southern, Tratetiern,” he pointed at the map, “and we’ll begin here, in the center of the province, with Jornell.”

The plan was a good one, but worked only twice, at Tratetiern and Jornell.  After those two dines, the Demarians would quickly retreat from the other cities before further strangleholds could be completed.  They left each tiern in ruins and it took John’s men weeks of careful advancement to clear all the traps.

After nearly two months of fighting and running, Daenon abandoned Palium to the Esparians.  John’s spies reported the enemy retreat ended at the Demarian border.  A note came from Cordon informing John the enemy troops were leaving Snow Peak as well. 

John was alone in the command tent, going over maps when Lyrista appeared in the open doorway.  “More of our advance scouts have reported,” she said.

John smiled at her.  “Come on in.”

She looked at the maps.  “Daenon’s going to make a stand on his own land.  What do you think he’ll do with all the innocents he’s gathered?”

“Human shields.”

“Just when I wonder how things can get any worse…”  She shook her head.  “The scouts estimate he’s got at least fifty thousand women and children, probably more.”

John put his arm around her shoulders.  “How are you holding up?”

“I told you I wouldn’t fall apart and I’m keeping my promise.”

“But?”

She took a deep breath.  “But at night, when I close my eyes…”  A single tear slid down her cheek.

He gently wiped it away with a finger.  “I know.  I hear the same screams, see the same ravaged bodies, feel the same sorrow.”

“The sooner this war is over, the better.  I’m tired of death, John.”

“The worst is still to come,” he sighed.  “Demarians fighting on Demarian soil.”

She turned into him, burying her face in his chest.  He held her close, allowing her to let the pain out, if only for a few minutes.

* * *

John made camp about twenty-five filons from the desert border.  His first concern was for the thousands of captives.  “I’ve sent for Reese,” he told Ru.  “It’ll take him two days to travel here.”

“I look forward to meeting this young seventh bar I’ve heard so much about.”

“You’ll like him.”  John looked west, toward the border.  “I want more scouts sent out.  We need to find where the hostages are being held.  Hopefully they’ll return with some news for us before Reese arrives.”

“Consider it done.”

The evening that Reese rode into camp with his small accompaniment of soldiers, Lyrista, Ru and Tor were sent for.  The four advisors met with John in the sparsely furnished command tent.  John was not a pretentious man, so he was quite specific as to what he required in a command center.  He had the necessary equipment, a large wooden table covered in maps and several tall candle stands for lighting, however the tent itself resembled each of the other army tents in camp, save it was just a little larger. 

Every tent was made of tightly woven cotton and sheep’s hair, making it lightweight and breathable.  Only four wooden stools were brought in for the night’s meeting as Tor sat cross legged on the ground.  His large frame took up half the tent space.  His head grazed the top of the canopy.  The five strategists had barely begun their conference when a longhaired, bearded man with sad gray eyes suddenly appeared from nowhere.  He was thin and dressed in dark brown, dusty clothing.  His long brown hair was pulled back into a thick braid.

No one had heard nor seen him enter and he startled the group when he spoke.

“Protector John?” Three swords came quickly from their sheaths and Tor leaned forward menacingly.  Only John seemed unruffled by the salutation.

“Lower your weapons.”  The man raised his hands to show he was unarmed.  “I come in peace and as a friend.  My name is Doran.  I am a Ghost Walker.  I come from the desert to offer you the services of three hundred men.” 

“A Ghost Walker,” Ru exclaimed while he sized up the man.  “Who’s your commander?”

“Farin,” the man replied. 

Ru sheathed his sword.

“What’s a Ghost Walker and just who exactly is Farin?” Reese asked, his sword still ready.  John saw the distrust on his face and for the first time it struck him how much the young man had aged in the last couple months.

“The desert free men,” Ru explained.  “A group of Demarians who want Daenon out of power even more than we do.  Farin is their leader.  They’re called Ghost Walkers because they slip in and out of places virtually unseen.  Only their work is left behind as proof they were there.”

“We are not many, a few thousand, but we are ready to help you,” Doran offered.  “Farin sent me to represent him.”

Reese put his sword away, but Lyrista retained hers.  John eyed the man carefully.  “If Jess were here, I’d know for certain if he were honest, but since she isn’t, I’ll go by my own instincts.”  He placed his hand on her arm.  “Put your sword up.  We’ll trust him.”

She hesitated, but finally did as requested, though she never took her eyes off of him and stayed close to John. 

“I’m honored to have the Ghost Walkers as part of the offensive,” John said when he shook the man’s hand.   At the table, John pulled open one of the maps.  “We have an urgent matter your people could help with.  Daenon took many of our countrymen, mostly women and children, as he left Palium.  I don’t know his full intentions, but I think he plans on using them as shields.  We cannot attack the deserts until the hostages are freed, but first, we need to find them.”  John’s hand swept the open map.  “Many of my scouts have not returned.  Those that have say the enemy line is unsettled and the prisoners are still being moved.  I want to know what sort of guard is on them and where they’re headed.”

“You will know within two days,” Doran promised and he left as silently as he came. 

True to his word, just after sundown two days later Doran arrived with the necessary information.  John was in meeting again when Doran appeared inside the command tent.

“Protector John, I have the knowledge you requested,” Doran quietly announced, and for a second time startled everyone present. 

“You’ve got to teach me that,” John said.

Doran smiled, a glint of humor lit up his sad eyes.  “It takes years of practice and concentration.  Most of us learned the technique as children. It was a game.”

“Well, Larone considers me still a child,” John smiled back.  “So what of the hostages?”

“They’re in large groups, being held in five different locations along the border.  There are a few older men, but, as you said, most are women and children, thousands of people.  They are guarded, but not so heavily a rescue attempt would fail.”  He pointed out the five locations on the map. 

“Would your people be willing to help us free them?” John asked.

“Yes,” Doran replied.  “My commander, Farin, is coming with three hundred men.  We’re to meet at the Great Rock,” Doran pointed to a spot on the map just inside the Demarian border.  “When would you like to free your people?”

“As soon as possible.”

“Have one thousand of your Guardians ready by midnight.  They’ll need to cross the border in small groups and meet us at the Great Rock by morning.  There we’ll divide into five companies of two hundred guardians with sixty Ghost Walkers.  The furthest camps are a day away.  We’ll go in at night and rescue your people.  Give us three days to get them back here.”