The Reckoning, page 19
He leapt to his feet. “Hammer, you whoreson. Get down here!”
Hammer let out a laugh and called something unintelligible to the dragon he rode. The whole heard of mystical beasts began their descent.
The Wolfhead army pushed back to clear a space for the dragons to land, and the Dwarves dismounted.
Hammer slid down from the back of a large green and gold dragon. He said a few words of thanks to the great beast then strode toward Kaden, his hand extended in greeting.
Kaden thumped him on the back and hastened him into his tent. He introduced him to Radoch, and Hammer told Kaden how Ohma had already gone with Gahna-Tah to carry the two thousand Elisians from Dragonbane Castle. Ohma decided the Dwarves would be collected in the same manner if they were to be at Wolveryne Castle in time for the rendezvous with Erik. “He hoped you would not mind him taking the liberty.”
“Indeed not.” He thumped the dwarf on the shoulder. “It was a brilliant idea.”
“He said to tell you that Gahna-Tah and her kind will not be fighting in the battle as there are so few dragons left. They cannot be put at risk.”
Kaden nodded. “She has done enough already, and we would not care for any more of her noble kind to perish. Now come, we have much to ready in three days.”
****
All day, men, women, horses, and wagons trickled into the valley. By nightfall, thousands of troops sat around blazing campfires on the valley floor. Over the hundreds of fires roasted game of every type from pheasant and fowl to wild elkow and White Mountain deer. Strong liquor flowed freely. It was a balmy night, but the fires were essential, serving as a light and a means to cook their food, this night before battle. The air fare crackled with anticipation of the following day. The whole of Glen-Dorrach and most of Tarlis hinged on tomorrow and their victory. There would not be another chance. Tomorrow, it would be for him and the Tarlisian people, all or nothing.
A young lass with fiery red hair approached Kaden as he crouched to hack a portion from a haunch of roasting venison.
The girl touched her small, warm hand to his bare shoulder. “If you are lonely, milord, I could warm your bed.”
Kaden rose and stared down at the woman-child with dark eyes. She was no more than fourteen summers with mussed fire-colored hair and the slim body of a youth. He recognized the girl as the Baker Nilard’s daughter. Her father had died in the attack on Wolveryne Castle.
“Galena, is it not?”
“Yes, milord.” She gave him a tentative smile.
“I have a woman, Galena, but I am honored by your offer.”
The smile vanished from the young girl’s face and the sparkle left her green eyes. She hung her head and began to trudge away.
“Wait.”
“Milord?” She swung back, her face brightening. “You have changed your mind?”
“No, Galena, I have not. But why do you do this?”
She seemed to slump. “A person must eat, milord.”
His lips tightened. He sliced several large slabs of meat from the roasted haunch before him and thrust them into her hands. “Here, take this.”
Galena’s teeth tore into the warm meat, and she stuffed great chunks into her mouth, almost gagging. He moved quickly to thump her hard between the shoulder blades. “Slow down, lass, you will choke.”
She wiped the meat juice from her lips with her bare arm. “I am sorry, milord. I am just so hungry. I have not eaten in three days.”
Kaden shook his head and took in the girl’s slight appearance with a frown. “I can see that. Are there others like you?”
She nodded as she crammed more meat into her mouth.
“When you have finished, gather the other youngsters who are in need and send them to this man.” Kaden signaled to Demise standing nearby. “He will see them fed.”
The girl glanced up at the big Black man shyly.
He smiled kindly into her eyes and touched a gentle hand to her hair. “Do not be afraid, little one. I fear my face is not as pretty as yours, but I will bring you and your friends to no bad end. I promise.”
Hesitantly, the girl slipped her slender hand into his larger one and brought it to her cheek. A grin spread across his face as she turned, and he watched her run off into the night.
“Wait!”
“Milord?” She glanced over her shoulder.
“No more sleeping with the soldiers,” scolded Kaden. “Your father would have expected more from his daughter. He was an honorable man.”
Her smile faded, and a twinge of guilt niggled him. It was not her fault she had been forced into prostitution. “You need anything, anything at all, you come to me. Soon the fighting will be over, and all will be as it was before Wolveryne Castle fell.” He stared into the distance at the moons. “The Dorrachians will prosper again, and there shall be plenty for all.”
“Yes, milord.” The girl nodded, dropped a small curtsy, and disappeared between the hub of warriors and the bright burning campfires.
Kaden settled beside the fire, staring blankly into the flames, his appetite long gone. In his heart, he knew he had lied to the girl. Things would never be the same. The country may thrive again, but those who lost their lives and those who would lose their lives in the days to come would never see the prosperity. “It is a sad day indeed, when a child has to prostitute herself to eat,” he said to Demise.
“Aye, it is, my lord. Then again, all days are sad when a man must slay his own countrymen to gain freedom.”
****
Two days later, Kaden called Radoch to his tent. It was just after dawn and heavy mist wreathed the campsite.
“Are they all here?” he asked, lowering his father’s sword to the bed.
“The last just rode in. Are you ready?”
“I was born ready.” Kaden grinned and picked up his shining metal breastplate and held it in place while Radoch tightened the straps. “You worry too much.”
The older man snorted and reached for the golden pauldrons, buckling one at a time into place. Jerak had brought the armor from his village for Kaden. Golden in color, the Elf Lord had said that the same mage who had ensorcelled the Elves three hundred suits of armor had left this one with Jerak, saying that he would know who to give the armor to when the time came. The elf said he was certain it was meant for him.
“I am not the one who has to convince six thousand men to ride against an enemy of ten thousand,” returned Radoch.
Kaden broke from his meandering thoughts and stepped away as the older man finished his task and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Have you no faith, my friend?”
“Not when it comes to felo-de-se.”
His jaw hardened. “I force no man to fight at my side, Radoch. You know that.”
Radoch remained silent. He helped him on with his leather gauntlets and lifted his sword from the end of the bunk to strap to his waist. When Kaden looked into Radoch’s eyes, they were cold. “Try leaving me behind,” returned the older man. “Then you will see war.”
Kaden laughed and picked up his shield. He exited the tent, and Radoch followed, carrying the helmet that matched the golden armor.
Outside, Radoch signaled to two officers who pulled an empty wagon forward. The wagon stopped before them, and the prince of the Wolfhead climbed onto the tray to face the massed ranks of his rebel army.
****
Radoch took his stance at his prince’s side on the ground. The older man felt tears form in his eyes and quickly wiped them away. This was a proud moment for him. He had worked long and hard to repay the prince for saving his life at Wolveryne Castle. Now perhaps, he would see his labor bear fruit. This was the testing time. Could Prince Kaden lead these men? Would they follow him?
Kaden threw back his black cloak. His specially wrought golden armor shone upon his chest as the sun chose that moment to break through the over-hanging mist. He raised his arm and sunlight ran along the blade of his father’s sword. To Radoch, he looked like a Sun God of old.
“Friends…brothers of Tarlis.” His voice rang out, strong and clear. “For those who do not know me, I am Kaden, Son of Farramon, Prince and General of the Dorrachians. In my veins runs the blood of Ambroch of the Wolfhead, the greatest king of all time, and Mareeka Alendronate, the Witch Queen, who it is told, led eighteen thousand men into battle against thirty thousand and wrote her name into the history scrolls of Tarlis. I am here now to lead you to victory against Sernon’s hordes of evil. Together we will free this land from tyranny!” He punched the air. “Together! Victory!”
The warriors took up the cry. “Victory!”
Kaden stopped their cheering with a raised hand, and his next words boomed into the silence. “Like you, I have felt defeat—dawns of steel and blood. You have bloodied your swords, your shields, and your bodies! You have faced fear and dealt with it, seen death and risen above it!
“The time has come. The time is now to band together as brothers.
“Fight as one for freedom! Freedom from the oppressor who would see your children slaves!
“Freedom from the monster who plunders our land, takes the bread from your mouth, steals our women, and would see us dead!”
A roar sounded as thousands cried out in unison.
“Come with me now!
“Follow me!
“Fight for what was taken from you!
“And by the gods, I swear, we will take it back!”
“We are with you!” boomed Hammer Deathwielder from amidst the crowd. “Death to Sernon! Death to the usurper!”
The dwarf and his men punched out the words with their fists. “Death to the Urakians!”
The rebel army took up the cry. “Death to the Urakians! Death to Sernon!”
Kaden leapt from the wagon and joined Radoch where he waited with Phoenix. Climbing into the saddle, he took his golden helmet from Radoch and pulled it down over his head and brought the stallion around. He waved his sword in the air. “Come!”
And six thousand men followed.
****
It was mid-morning when Kaden halted the cavalcade and scanned the valley floor. They had journeyed two leagues, and still had two to go.
Twenty cottages were scattered along the banks of a narrow, winding river, smoke rising from their small stone chimneys. “Why has Sernon left these people in peace and not others?”
“They supply him with grain and meat,” Radoch informed, urging his mount in line with Kaden’s. “They also supply us with information.”
“They are informers?”
“How do you think we knew when to attack the supply wagons?”
Kaden regarded the cottages with renewed interest. “Would they join us?”
“I would stake my life on it.”
He called to Hammer sitting upon his small hill pony, and the dwarf rode up beside him. “Take some of your people down to the valley. Tell the cottagers the Wolfhead has returned. Tell them the time has come to fight.”
The dwarf nodded and rode back along the line, and the rest of the cavalry rode on.
Around noon, Kaden sent word down the long cavalcade that he needed to see Jerak. Within the hour, the elf’s white stallion pulled in alongside him.
“What can I do for you, General?”
Kaden met the Elf Lord’s gaze. “I fear we will not make the castle by dawn. I must split the ranks and take the cavalry ahead and leave the foot soldiers to follow. I need you and your men to go on before us. Erik is to open the gates at sunrise tomorrow. He will need a diversion. You will fire a volley of lighted shafts into the first courtyard at the same time the gate is opened, thus the diversion. Find the princess. She and the others will be in a cave this side of the castle.”
He gave Jerak the directions. “Take care. Sernon will know we are on the move.” He thumped the elf on the back. “Good luck, Jerak, and may the power of your god be with you.”
“I make my own luck,” said the elf. “But thank you, and may your journey be a safe one.” He kneed his charger around and rode back down the line.
A little later, three hundred Elven archers in the dark green and silver garb of Druh Forest cantered past in the direction of Wolveryne Castle.
Radoch watched the last of the green cloaks disappear over the rise. “Let us hope they get there in time.”
He nodded. “Our world depends on it.”
Chapter Seventeen
The plan worked perfectly. After dispatching the sentries guarding the perimeter, Jerak and his men slipped silently up to the east wall in the pre-dawn shadows.
Erik watched from his position along the over-hanging wall.
On the signal, the Elves let loose a volley of blazing shafts over the battlements. He heard the screams of the enemy and smelt the smoke as arrows showered the thatched roofs of the stables.
Erik and his companions picked their way through the tunnel. Small rivulets of water trickled constantly down the side of the walls. Slime and mud squelched beneath their boots, and the stink of mold hung thick in the air from the tunnel’s many summers of neglect.
Ohma flicked his fingers and a flame leapt from his palm, filling the man-made tunnel with light.
“Ohma, you had best come up front with me,” called Erik, peering over his shoulder at the Druid.
Skylah dropped back beside Tannith, allowing Ohma to light the way. Together, they traveled on in silence until the tunnel branched right, eventually coming to a narrow staircase.
Erik motioned for Ohma to climb. “This is it.”
The steep, narrow, winding stairs only allowed them to ascend in single file. At the top, it broadened onto a long rock platform where they could all stand comfortably. A stone panel measuring three feet wide and twice as high blocked their path.
Erik slipped his hand into the mouth of the wolf effigy at the bottom of the wall and found the lever. The panel rolled laboriously aside. He ducked his head around the edge, checking to make sure the room was clear, then stepped into his old bedchamber.
It felt like coming home, and he was forced to gather himself as childhood memories flooded him. The room was sparse. The only furniture remaining was his ornate four-poster bed. All else had been looted. The bed must have been too heavy to carry. Even the place high on the west wall lay bare, and with sadness, he noted his parents’ portrait was missing. He breathed deeply and turned to signal his friends.
When the others entered, he locked the panel back into place then told Tannith to listen at the door while he crossed to the far window. “Let us hope the map is still here.”
He watched Tannith tiptoe across the room and put her ear to the door. She nodded. “All is clear.”
Erik took his dagger, ran the tip beneath the windowsill, and inched a large block of stone slowly toward him, drawing it from the wall. He slid his hand into the dark opening, and his fingers touched parchment. He drew out the map, unrolled it, and spread it on the wooden floor.
Tannith leaned down to look at the scroll.
“Here.” Erik pointed. “This tunnel leads to the gatehouse.”
“Good, now find the passage that takes us to the tower room,” she said.
He glanced up. “There is no such passage.”
Tannith dropped to her knees beside him. “There has to be. She scanned the map herself, then sighed. “Ohma and I will just have to be careful we are not seen.” She looked at the old man, and he nodded. “Now, let us run through the plan one more time. Ohma and Skylah come join us.” She waited for the others to settle across from her and Erik, then went on. “Erik, you and Skylah will find your way to the gatehouse and wait for Jerak’s next signal. At the start of the disturbance, you deal with the sentries and open the castle gates. Understand?” She looked at Skylah, and she nodded.
“While you and Ohma search the tower room for the Eye,” finished Erik, praying everything would go as planned.
****
Ohma and Tannith crept along the tunnel to the king’s chambers, certain Sernon would have claimed it for his own.
Erik had given them directions to the rooms and Ohma pressed his ear to the panel leading into the bed chamber. Finding no sound, he slipped through the door and whispered for Tannith to follow.
On entering, he moved quietly to an oak closet running the length of the wall while Tannith strode over to the four-poster bed. She dropped to look beneath the bed, then tossed open the lid of a large carved wooden trunk.
Ohma rummaged through drawers and cupboards and continued to search systematically, finally concluding the Eye was not among Sernon’s belongings. “He must have hidden it somewhere else, unless he has it with him.”
Tannith agreed and disheartened, they abandoned the room and proceeded along the corridor toward the east wing and the tower room.
He hoped the rare jewel would be in the king’s chambers, and there would be no reason to seek Sernon. Many decades ago, he had witnessed the duel between Magus and the sorcerer, and the sorcerer’s power had been formidable indeed. He had no wish to face him. His own magick had strengthened with use since leaving Merrum Island, but Sernon’s power was near godlike—invincible. The only one Ohma knew who had a chance of standing against him was Magus. So, his thoughts were brought a full cycle. Where was the Eye?
He looked to Tannith. “Assemble the Cross.”
She spun, with her mouth open. “Are you daft?”
“Trust me.”
She went to object but seemed to have second thoughts. Shaking the pieces from the pouch onto her hand, she set them on the sideboard next to her and began fitting them together.
As she did, the joined pieces of the Cross began to hum.
****
Jerak’s Elves, the Elisian army, and Phalae’s six hundred tribesmen fringed the green hills surrounding Wolveryne Castle. As dawn broke red on the horizon, they swarmed the valley and charged headlong into the opening gates—three thousand battle-hardened warriors, raging for blood, crying their war chants.
But there was no sign of Kaden and his Dorrachians.
Etan, Phalae, and Jerak had been unable to wait. They had to attack on the signal or miss the element of surprise.
Jerak sprinted into the courtyard, squinting against the rising sun. His first arrow took a Urakian in the eye. His opponent fell, clutching at his face. The enemy was everywhere. He called to his archers, and they formed a tight-knit circle in the center of the inner courtyard, letting loose a volley of bronze-tipped shafts into the ranks on the battlements.
