Bloodstone - Power of Youth (Book 3) (31 page)

BOOK: Bloodstone - Power of Youth (Book 3)
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“May I present Sergeant Dellamo, a spy for Duke Hovitz of Ashof.”

“Ah, Duke Hovitz. Perhaps it’s time to start our own southern alliance,” the king said and squinted at the big man. “Dellamo? Is that your real name?”

Dellamo took a deep breath. “No, sir. Anter Hovitz is my name. I’m Duke Hovitz’s tenth son.”

King Willom laughed. “I thought I saw a resemblance. Well, is the duke in or out? What do you think?”

“In, your majesty. Duke Selgrid told my father that he’d be in too, if you’d only ask.”

“I’m asking, young Hovitz. By the way, are you three hungry? I am ready for my midday meal. Let’s eat right here. We can let the sea make us all as angry as she is.”

Anchor smiled. “Can you give us an hour? I’m sure Hovitz,” Anchor winked at the younger man, who would be a bit younger than Anchor appeared, “would like to freshen up a bit.”

“Of course and I’ll arrange for Shiro and you…”

Anchor shook his head. “We have a little traveling to do, but we’ll be back in time for a fresh cooked meal.”

~

Lotto spotted Anchor and Shiro walking across the practice field at the Beckondale Castle. Soldiers scurried from place to place.

“Anchor, we thought you had disappeared!” He clasped Anchor’s hand and then Shiro.

“I lost my power with a concussion,” Shiro said. “It’s my fault.”

“We didn’t intend on spending so much time in Grianne.” Anchor looked at Shiro. “Our fault.” He realized that perhaps Unca was a superior spy to Anchor. There was a benefit to looking like a benign old man rather than a strapping warrior. Anchor snorted. A strapping warrior was what he had become and he’d have to remember that in the future. He looked at all of the activity in the courtyard. “Are you assembling reinforcements for Restella?”

“No. We are heading to Histo. Dakkor has embedded a large force in the forests and will likely be heading for Crackledown, although they could invade Sally’s Corners or head into Valetan from their camp.”

“Oh. Do you have enough Ropponi to transport you?” Anchor said.

“Soon enough. We’ll have forces coming from three directions and hope to push them all the way to the sea, if they last that long. We found them by chance. I’ve even tried to teleport by myself, once. I’m not very good at it.”

“At least there are Shiro’s Red Roses for that. We found our own hidden army in the south. The three duchies under Histron’s influence were going to attack our flank as we turned north in Teryon. They knew of our strategy from the Learsea general that had turned on us. We can take care of them during the winter by transporting our armies to Grianne. Instead of a long campaign through the Five Duchies, we fight all of their armies in one spot.”

Lotto turned to Shiro. “Won’t you have trouble teleporting that many men?”

“It will devastate the Ropponi’s power for a time, but it will be worth it,” Shiro said and nodded his head towards Anchor. “We are going to Sally’s Corners next. I’ll confer with Chika.”

“Feel free,” Lotto said. “I’m very relieved to know you are safe. You had us all worried.”

“It will be good to see Princess Sallia and Duke Jellas again,” Anchor said. He looked forward to seeing the princess more than anything. In his distress, he’d successfully banished her from his mind.

“I’ll take you to her. She’s in the Beckondale castle.”

Lotto took them both towards the king’s apartments and knocked at an ornate door. A woman answered, Anna Teriso, Mander Hart’s wife.

“Anna, I didn’t know you moved to the castle, too.” Lotto obviously knew the woman well.

Mander’s wife playfully blew in Lotto’s face. “Men. I’ve been helping the princess with various matters.”

“Did I hear Lotto’s voice?” Sallia said from within the room. He could hear excitement in her voice. “Show him in.”

Her eyes lit up when she saw Anchor and then smiled when Shiro brought up the rear.

Anchor bowed. “My Princess.”

“Rise, Lord Anchor. We had thought you lost. It warms my heart to see you alive.”

Lotto laughed. “Only delayed. He’s been spying in the south like I’ve had to do in the north.”

“Come in and tell us all,” Sallia said.

Anchor nearly lost his breath. How much would he love to sit and regale the princess with his adventures, but he had to move on. They would be keeping King Willom waiting as it was. “Perhaps another time, we must notify Chika and the Duke of our discovery.”

Sallia looked disappointed to Anchor, but not as much as he felt. “Perhaps tomorrow, Shiro and I will return. I will say that my new strategy will involve moving armies all over Besseth.

“You?” Shiro said. “The Red Rose will.” He bowed to the two ladies and jerked his head back to the corridor. Anchor hurriedly bade them farewell and followed Shiro. “Now that you have seen your lady, it’s time for me to see mine.” Shiro grabbed Anchor’s elbow and they stood in the middle of a muddy street in front of an inn. Before they had a chance to enter, Chika ran out the door of the Traveler’s Rest and threw her arms around Shiro taking them both into the mud.

“I was so worried!” She kissed Shiro on the mouth.

Anchor cleared his throat.

“Clear away,” Chika said. After a few moments wrestling in the mud, Shiro rose, helping Chika to her feet. “I lost our link. I’ve always known where you were.”

Shiro rubbed his head. “I hope you haven’t stopped my magic again. Someone knocked me on the head and my powers shrunk. I could barely keep my disguise intact and we couldn’t teleport out of danger as was our plan.”

“I’ve never known your plan to shrivel so,” Chika said. Her composure had returned and Shiro grinned.

“Is the duke here?”

“I was to take him to Crackledown just before nightfall.”

Anchor walked up the steps. “I need to see him for a few minutes then we must go. You two can bring each other up to speed. We need to leave as soon as possible.”

Shiro shrugged. He could blame Anchor all he wanted. Shiro deserved much more than that.

Duke Jellas wrote on the large table in the meeting room. He recognized Anchor immediately and stood.

“You did survive whatever took you away from us.”

Anchor nodded. “A, uh, miscalculation, I’m afraid. I’m not infallible, Duke Jellas. Would you like to visit King Willom? Just for the midday meal.”

“I just finished my breakfast.”

“It’s midday in Learsea and I’d like to talk to you both. I’ll have you back in time for Chika to take you to Crackledown.”

“I can spare a few hours, if you’ll give me another minute or two. We have to muster enough forces to take down the Dakkorans.”

“Dakkorans?” Prince Peeron entered the room.

“I’ll tell you in a few hours. Anchor has to show me something.” Jellas tried to communicate that he didn’t want Peeron with them. Anchor caught on.

“I’m sorry, Prince Peeron. I will return Duke Jellas soon enough.”

Shiro still talked to Chika, both of them coated with mud. He looked up at Anchor and saw Peeron walk out the door. “Now?”

Anchor responded. “Now.”

~

After Shiro had changed his sodden clothes, the five men sat down to eat. Anchor had briefed both men on his travels and the developments at Beckondale. Willom and Jellas began to talk about Prince Peeron, which devolved, into royal gossip. Anchor once had fed on the stuff, but he didn’t feel like listening to the two men catch up with each other. His eyes turned to the sea and felt turmoil in his own soul.

Sallia’s voice when she thought Lotto had come to visit competed with his vision of her face brightening as she recognized him in her rooms. Lotto had Restella. Anchor blinked to clear his vision and his mind. Anchor didn’t own Sallia. Her token had remained back with his kit in Tassleton. Her anticipated correspondence had ended after a few missives, but then he didn’t have the time to answer. Their relationship wasn’t what he had fantasized about. He’d have to push it farther down and deal with it later.

Perhaps after they won the war…  But then what if she found out about his role the night her parents died? He felt as if he were tossed to and fro in the ocean that now played an angry tune in front of him. Anchor shook his head and turned back to the court gossip. Maybe it still interested him, a little.

~

Dellamo… no Hovitz. Anchor smiled as the man talked about meeting Duke Jellas and the king. As it turned out, Ashof and Bintz might as well have been part of Learsea, just as the King had claimed. Anter must not have been very involved at his father’s court since he took the opportunity to spy at Grianne. Regardless of Anter’s pedigree, the king easily intimidated the young mountain of a man.

“Would you like to see your father?”

Anter smiled. “Yes. He’ll be impressed that I worked with you two in Grianne.”

The Ropponi didn’t waste any time and they landed in the grand hall of the ducal palace. Ashof had been at peace for so long, that a former duke had built his own palace and used the ancient family castle as a military fort for the ducal army.

“My boy,” Duke Hovitz embraced his son after introductions, “Tell me of your adventures. You’ve arrived with a wizard and a warlord. You have exceeded my expectations.”

That seemed to puff up Anter. “It is time to join our armies with Learsea.”

The duke took them into his study where Anter told his father of their adventures. Anchor only had to plug in certain gaps that the duke’s son had forgotten to add.

“Anter is an excellent swordsman, Duke Hovitz,” Anchor said at the end. “He put up a good fight, although we are both glad that our match was interrupted.”

“You seem about his same age,” the duke said.

“I have more experience, it seems. I feel like a much older man by now.” Anchor gave the duke an abbreviated summary of his adventures from South Keep to the present.

“I’ve heard a less complete version of that. You are famous in the duchies and if half of it is to be believed, you do deserve your position. I’ve heard rumors, likely started by General Fellon about your lack of ability, but,” he slapped his son’s knee, “that’s not true at all. Is it, Anter? My soldiers are ready as are Selgrid’s. We can field two thousand men each. That strips much of my border with Venato, but we haven’t seen many of their soldiers for weeks.”

Shiro nodded his head. “They are all in Teryon.”

“Indeed.”

~~~

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Nine

~

A
nchor stood at the top
of the Learsea-Red Kingdom border keep where the war had started with Histron. Leef, Shiro and Tishiaki were with him. The cold wind whipped occasional flakes of snow in their faces as the setting sun painted their faces a pale orange. The border plain looked bleak in the waning light. He tried not to let the melancholy aspect of the scene affect him.

“My men and women have teleported all along the frontier including the Red Kingdom side of the passes that they traversed in the summer and fall. No one is near,” Tishiaki said.

“I want five teleporting Red Roses and five thousand men waiting here are a reserve,” Anchor said. “I doubt anything will be happening here until the spring.

“We know,” Leef said. “Now you’ve seen it with your own eyes, you can begin your campaign.”

Anchor nodded. “It’s time that both of you worked with Colonel Baanth and the generals of Bintz and Ashof to fine tune the battle of Grianne. There are wizards that Anter didn’t see, but we have to assume they are in Grianne. They wouldn’t be testing for power if they weren’t planning on using battle mages. Perhaps they were quartered in the town. The two I met weren’t very impressive.”

“I agree,” Shiro said. “Not even a word about battle mages fighting alongside the duchy armies among the common soldiers.”

“All of the forces will assemble at Tassleton. Shiro and I are heading to Histo. I want to see that Dakkoran army with my own eyes.”

“I’ll take a Ropponi with us to Histo. Then, the sorcerer can return to Tassleton, should you need to communicate with us.”

“We are all agreed? Wish us all luck,” Anchor said.

~

Anchor, Shiro and the Ropponi appeared close to Chika in a forested area.

“Histo,” Anchor said. “It’s been awhile since I’ve been here. Histo is every person’s backwater duchy. If you thought Happly was a poor country. Histo has it beaten. It has never been absorbed by Prola, Gensler, Besseth or the Red Kingdom because no one wants it. Even its ports are worthless.”

“Except for one,” Chika said. “The smuggler’s bay, a single thrust into the womb of the country.”

Shiro shook his head with a smile. He said something to her in Ropponi causing them both to laugh. Better Shiro than he. Anchor would soon turn back into an old man with Chika around him all of the time. He dismissed the Ropponi, who disappeared, leaving the three of them alone.

“Take us to the duke,” Shiro said speaking Bessethian again. Chika put her arm through his as they walked through the skiff of snow on the muddy road.

Off in the woods, Anchor noted the tents and the small groups of men huddled around smaller fires. She led them to the duke, warming his hands on an iron brazier. The coals glowed so hot that the metal took on the same hue.

“We attack at first light,” the duke said. Prince Peeron nodded to Anchor.

A soldier handed Shiro and Anchor a white strip of cloth.

Peeron pointed to his bicep. “Wrap it tight. Lose it and someone might think you’re the enemy.”

It was all Anchor could do to thank King Willom’s son. Dealing with the man felt no better than walking barefoot over a bed of glowing coals as hot as those in the brazier.

Anchor looked at the setting sun, still brushing the tips of the trees above him. He shouldn’t haven’t have teleported into the middle of the camp of the army of the south in darkness, but Shiro could teleport to Chika’s side, no matter where she was.

After a mostly cold evening meal, Chika showed them to two tents. One for him and the other for them. Shiro would enjoy the night. Anchor hoped he’d get more sleep than his friend. An armful of blankets had been spread on the floor of the tent. Anchor burrowed into the middle of them. He heard various noises from Shiro’s tent drifting into his ears as he tried to calm down.

Sallia came into his mind and the impossibilities of a relationship fought with his mind. He’d be an old man again when all of this was over. Then what did he have to offer Sallia? Perhaps he could return to his holding once Sallia reached the throne. There was always Willow. She had devoted herself to him. But then Unca always regarded Willow as a sister in their years at the holding. No, he never loved his housekeeper and Anchor had to admit, regardless of his age, he loved Sallia. He gave into his fantasies and thought of Anchor and the princess together, casting aside his real persona. Anchor finally slept with Sallia’s image in his mind.

The ground underneath Anchor’s tent shook and rolled. He rose from his blankets, whatever dream that ran through his mind had fled. He jumped out of his tent to see Chika laughing with her arm around Shiro.

“I felt an earthquake,” Anchor said. “I’ll bet it was very localized.” He didn’t think Shiro would do something like that.

“Very. The earth moved,” Chika said and laughed into her gloved hand.

“It served its purpose, I suppose,” Anchor said. “Is there any food about?” Anchor could feel the press of men about him in the dark.

Shiro pulled a sack from behind him. Anchor could barely see them. “Water and dry rations,” the Ropponi said. “We are to finish them. It’s likely to be a long day. For us as long as we wish it to last,” Shiro’s voice took on a serious note. They would again fight together.

Chika said something to Shiro in Ropponi and gave him a furious kiss. She waved at Anchor and took off into the dark.

“She leads the Red Rose. They will take out the sentries,” Shiro said.

“Why don’t you join them?”

The forest was beginning to lighten up just a bit. Anchor could make out Shiro’s face in the gloom.

“We protect each other, you and I.”

Anchor grabbed Shiro’s shoulder. His eyes began to water. “We do. You and I, brother.” Anchor felt a bond with Shiro. He didn’t know if it was magical. He doubted it, but he never had a brother or sister. If he did, he’d barely know them since he was taken as a wizard’s apprentice at a young age.

Shiro grabbed his shoulder. “Brother. We fight together all the way to the end.” Shiro bowed his head in the Ropponi fashion and the moment ended as men began to move past them.

They flowed into the path of the silent march. Anchor felt like a wraith joining other souls on the way to some kind of hell. Blood would be spilt today. All of the fighters would fight in a foreign land. Many would die. Anchor doubted the Red Rose would want to teleport the dead. He wouldn’t.

Anchor now looked as the darkness turned into blues and blacks. He spotted the duke dressed in white and remembered that he hadn’t tied the white band to his bicep. Shiro had. He stopped to do so. Men continued to flow around him, slowly so that their battle gear would not disturb the quiet of the dawn. Peace before the violence. He took the time to clean the edge of the large sword he had taken from the Serytaran officer in Learsea. The enchantment kept the edge pristine. Anchor didn’t know what spell could do such a thing and Shiro had mentione
d
ward
s
that meant the sword might do even more.

He caught up to Shiro who had drifted towards the duke, as Anchor had wanted to. Shiro clutched his stone. “It begins,” he said.

Anchor heard faint cries and noises to his right. Valetan forces had made first contact as planned. Lessa would be next and finally, Gensler’s army would close the vise. They continued to move forward. The noises intensified. Up ahead a few men raised their weapons in surrender. Deserters.

Finally, Chika appeared next to Shiro. The sentries had been taken out and the duke ordered his army to converge on the camp. Anchor, Chika and Shiro walked through the woods and underbrush. He could now see the duke some hundred paces to his right. The noises began to separate. The clash of swords and hiss of arrows mixed with the cries of battle.

“Charge!” the duke cried out as they moved forward. As planned, a cadre of Gensler soldiers surrounded the duke. Anchor couldn’t stop the sneer on his face as he saw Prince Peeron’s face within the circle of protectors. The man didn’t exactly launch himself into the fray.

He ran to catch up with Shiro as the entered the Dakkoran camp. Enemy soldiers still struggled to don armor or grab weapons. The fighting began to heat up. Anchor jumped up on a boulder to look across a large meadow. Tents covered the entire ground. He could see wooden paths elevated above the floor of the meadow and as the sky brightened, he noticed that the tents were also on platforms. This was a winter camp, beyond doubt. He went from tent to tent along with the rest of the army, rousting the more cowardly from their shelters. Lessa had taken a bit more time reaching the camp, but he could see a line of soldiers emerge from the far side.

Anchor looked inside an empty tent and then as he exited, he saw a soldier crawl from underneath the walkway, ready to strike Chika. He couldn’t engage and doubted his voice would carry in the cacophony. He threw his sword at the man. The attacker turned to Anchor, but the clattering of his blade warned Chika. She turned and rammed her staff directly into the man’s throat. Anchor leapt down onto the meadow floor to retrieve his sword and found a column of Dakkorans lying down, waiting to pounce on their invaders.

“Shiro! Can you somehow communicate this to others?”

Shiro grabbed his stone and Anchor could see his head move as if he were talking. “Lotto knows. Chika teleport to Lessa and let him know.”

Anchor began to fight with the hidden men. He jumped back on the wooden walkway and with the increasing light of burning tents. He could see the men between the spacings of the boards and began to plunge his sword through the gaps. Other soldiers saw what he did and soon soldiers began to do the same as Dakkorans began to climb out from underneath the walkways and fight the alliance soldiers.

A burning pain slid across Anchor’s calf as a soldier had crept from a tent behind him. He turned and dispatched the man. Anchor jumped into the tent and found three more men. The fight had drifted towards the center of the camp and the tents hadn’t yet been clear. He fought the men as they yelled at him in their own tongue. Unca had never studied the contemporary Dakkoran languages. He only knew the Dakkoran written word. He had to move quickly if he wasn’t to die himself. Soon the enemy all had passed on to their ancestors. Anchor felt the blood soak his boot. He rummaged around in a tent and found a medical kit. He wrapped his calf tightly. He didn’t have the time to stitch the wound up and he had no desire to. Unca could have deadened the pain, but Anchor couldn’t. He returned to the fight, but his energy had begun to flag. Shiro fought two Dakkoran’s up ahead and Anchor had enough within him to get the other man.

“I’m wounded. Lost some blood, I’m afraid,” he said. Shiro looked down at the now-red rag around his leg.

“Let’s join the duke. There are enough men and women here to finish the job,” Shiro said. He took Anchor’s arm and the stood just outside the duke’s perimeter. Anchor looked for Peeron, but now that the fight was about over, Peeron would be finding a wounded soldier or two to dispatch and bloody up his sword.

“Where can Anchor find medical assistance?” Shiro said as Chika appeared.

“I’ll help him. We are fighting them to the last man,” Chika said.

Anchor found a fallen tree to sit on.

“I’m a face down girl and so are you, today,” Chika said, smiling. “On your stomach.”

Anchor knew the taste of magic used to heal. He endured the pain. Using Affinity to heal didn’t keep the process from hurting when joining tissue. It stopped and he began to breathe easier.

“You can sit on the log again so I can take care of your other wounds.”

Other wounds? Anchor now noticed his coat was tattered. His white armband had come off some time ago. He found himself glad that Peeron hadn’t come upon him. He wouldn’t put it past the man to hew him down if he didn’t wear the Gensler token.

Shiro sat on the ground next to him, chewing on a battle ration. The protective ring around the duke had relaxed and soldiers came in with reports and out with messages. Someone put a wineskin in his hands. Anchor drank. The healing had worn him out. He felt like throwing himself on the ground and sleeping, but he wanted to know how the battle fared.

Lotto showed up dragging an officer of some kind. Shiro rose from his seat brushing the crumbs of his rations from his hand. “Time for more work.” He waved his pouch with the Sunstone at Anchor.

BOOK: Bloodstone - Power of Youth (Book 3)
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