Fate Rides Wicked: Volume I of the Lerilon Trilogy (22 page)

Tych stood, the soldier was already standing, and said,
“I hope you’re warmed up. Congratulations on your
successful mission. I will expect a briefing in the morning.
In the meantime, meet Sir Xalt, a knight of the Kingdom of
Polentair. He has made a suggestion which matched some
thoughts I had been mulling over.” Tych pulled out a chair
and Xalt sat, Lendril and Ofeldar doing likewise.

“I suggested to Tych that he try to recruit all of the
kingdoms to help him in his effort. So, in two days, on
your approval Lendril, we will ride for Efrenbont.”

Lendril smiled at the compliment since the respect was
unexpected from a human male. “We will need to put
together a large group to survive such a journey. The
forangen and xadineft are on the move.”

Tych echoed the smile. “I have thought of that. We’ll
begin with us four, plus Flandroke, Nandel and Aquendar.
We’ll pick up Aquendar in Efreiden on our way to the pass
through to Efrenbont. We’ll take one of the two crazy
illusionists. I leave the rest of the group up to you. Any
suggestions?”

Ofeldar leaned forward. “Since Cort is in command
and having multiple commanders may, in the long run,
cause problems, I suggest we begin by taking the
commander of each race.”

“But there are two neftiran commanders.”

Lendril now got caught up in the spirit of the
discussion. “We’ll take both. In order to make each feel a
little more comfortable, we’ll ask each commander to
choose a soldier of no rank whom he or she trusts.”

“Fine, now what are we missing? I mean, what other
skills will not be represented by this force?” Tych looked
into the eyes of all three warriors.

Sir Xalt said, “Another magician wouldn’t hurt.”

Lendril said, “Yes, and archers would be useful.”

“In the next two days, I’ll choose a magician, not yet a
wizard, to train under Nandel during the journey and learn.
You and Ofeldar each choose an archer. That makes
twenty-two, including Flandroke and his choice of soldier.”

They sat there silent for a moment, Tych with a smile
on his face as they did the calculation. “No, I only count
twenty,” answered Ofeldar.

“Sir Xalt escorted in a band of hiftnuvin today. From
what I hear, at least one of you should choose an archer
from them. They are supposedly a half archer, half militia
force. Over two hundred arrived.”

Ofeldar said, “I will choose from them. Their race has
always intrigued me.”

“I will choose from among the rest of the army from the
archers I have seen. Are we all in agreement?” Lendril
saw all three nod. “Then let us get some rest.”

Tych and Lendril went straight to their tent. With slow,
careful patience they undressed each other and climbed into
bed. For a long time they just held each other, then they
made love softly. When they finally slept, the rain had
begun anew on their tent, but their warmth filled every
corner of it.

They gathered at the castle wall, Sir Xalt, Ofeldar,
Lendril, Tych, Loktaro, Andri, Tendelbro, Findra,
Flandroke, Blard and Nandel. A thrandril too
inexperienced to be called a wizard came with Tych.
Lendril had chosen an archer from the mendar, and Ofeldar
selected a hiftnuvin of the same trade. The hiftnuvin had
arrived in camp in the early morning.

The hiftnuvin race stood shorter than the neftir and
carried a little weight but couldn’t be called fat. Almost all
had brown hair and brown eyes and none could grow a
beard or a mustache. Only their head and feet bore hair and
their skin held the pale hue of humans that haven’t seen the
sun in a long time.

In fact, they all saw the sun for the first time in three
days as it moved more than halfway past zenith and the
clouds moved south, leaving behind a fresh, cool crispness
in the air. Flandroke had brought fresh horses, and came
first to Tych once everyone had gathered. “My Lord,
would you like the honor of choosing a horse before
everybody else?”

“I’ll defer to Sir Xalt, since his frame requires a strong
steed and he knows best which one will hold him. Then
have him choose a mount suitable for me.” Tych bowed
slightly, indicating Flandroke should go about carrying this
out. A second pemilon, Flandroke’s choice to accompany
him from among the other pemilonian soldiers, held the
reins of three shorter horses, brought along for the
hiftnuvin. The neftir had strong enough and barely long
enough legs to ride a normal sized horse, though they did
not enjoy it.

Sir Xalt chose a horse he judged to be strong and have
high stamina and threw his saddlebags over. Tych and
Lendril stood nearby the confusion as each commander and
his chosen soldier took steeds. The three magicians stood
behind the endarils not willing to get trampled in all the
mounting and shifting of the horses.

Flandroke took two white horses by the reins and brought them
forward. “These will match your royal armor when you
wear it. They will serve you well. This white breed is
trained for speed and used as scouts so they will have little
problem keeping up with the rest.”

Tych and Lendril each took a rein and mounted. Only
three horses remained empty. Flandroke turned and made a
series of noises and squeals unintelligible to everybody but
the pemilons and horses. The three steeds came forward,
one grey with brown spots, the other two brown. Blard
picked up his saddle and bags and took the spotted mount,
so the other two chose the browns.

“I believe we are all set, My Lord. Shall I order the
horses to ride?”

“No I will speak to the group first, Flandroke.” Tych
climbed up into his saddle and Lendril into hers. He turned
to the group, now a little more organized. “Legend has told
you of these pemilons, though before recently, they were
probably only myths in your minds. They are born with the
magical ability to look like the horses they are tending. But
this is only one of their two powers.

“The second is the ability to make horses near them
move unusually fast and run longer than possible without
their presence. So hang on and by night we’ll be in
Efreiden, in three days at the entrance to the pass through
the Efres. Our goal is to return by winter. We’ll take care
of introductions later. Flandroke will lead us out of camp,
then grab onto those reins and hold on. Go ahead,
Lieutenant Commander.”

With this, they slowly filed out of camp. Once clear of
the debris of an army, each rider bore down on staying on
as their steeds became magically quick. Some almost fell
from the force of the acceleration.

In that first hour they covered almost fifty of the three
hundred miles to the border. A few riders had problems
with flying dirt, but all had ridden horses in battle except
for Tych, Lendril and the hiftnuvin. The little people rode
in the front, however, and Tych and Lendril dealt with the
flying material quite well. It also helped that most places
they rode held the consistency of rubber from the rain or
even thick mud, which barely slowed them. To the farmers
and peasants and watchers from city walls they seemed
unreal, like a blur.

Halfway past zenith to night, they pulled up. Tych,
previously oblivious to those around him, looked around to
ask the nearest soldier how to protect his face. He didn’t
need to ask, though, as he saw pieces of cloth wrapped
around the face of every soldier but him. Even Lendril had
been smart enough to cover her face so that only her eyes
peeked out. Feeling like an idiot, he announced they would
slow to a walk so that everybody could eat. Each soldier,
warrior and magician carried personal effects in one bag
and food in the other. A bedroll had been provided with
each saddle. Each began eating as the horses walked
forward.

Once they had all eaten, the dash began anew and they
raced towards the Enandrake River, which marked the
border between the two kingdoms. This time, Tych took a
piece of cloth from his pouch, there for bandaging, and
wrapped his face. He realized that this meant complete
sensory depravation at these speeds, so he allowed himself
to daydream as they raced past trees, houses and fields of
brown grains. The boredom grew, now that he didn’t have
to dodge clods of mud as frequently, but he kept a little bit
of fear of the speed to stay awake.

That night they camped on the western shore of the
Enandrake river. Stars filled the sky and the crisp clean of
the day now had the added texture of cold. Every member
of the expedition, as they now called this little journey,
wore heavy cloaks and most pulled hoods over their heads.
The bedrolls formed a circle around the circle of logs
around a roaring fire, and all of them sat on these to stay
warm while they ate.

The human soldier chosen by Loktaro and the mendar
soldier chosen by Findra, gawked at the hiftnuvin and made
bets as to whether they would survive the journey, the
mendar showing the most confidence. Little did they know
how oblivious the hiftnuvin were, as they occupied
themselves wondering how Reichet, Tendelbro’s choice
from among his army, could use an axe almost twice as tall
as him. In a small world like theirs, such weapons existed
only as figments of the imagination, most of those thought
to be legends about the big people. Even the neftir stood
tall for the hiftnuvin.

The rest of the group just ate, too preoccupied with
satisfying their hunger to notice anything but their meal.
Blard ate with the grace of a drunken pirate, while Nandel
treated even the most tasteless and messiest piece of food
with the delicacy a mother gives a newborn. Still, very
little time had passed before the last of them finished off
the food allotted for that night from their bags.

Tych waited until this moment to speak. “The first day
has passed.” He removed his hood and stood, beginning a
walk around the fire. “Now it is time to set down some
rules for this ‘expedition’ as it has come to be called.
There are many different races and professions represented
in this group, from human to hiftnuvin, knight to wizard.
Rule one is that all prejudices are to be thrown away as
quickly as possible. There will be no hate among us, nor
will I tolerate it. There will be many times when we
depend on each other in combat, for this journey is fraught
with peril.

“Second, forget your previous rank. Lendril is
commander of the military aspects of this journey. She
makes all of the final decisions about when to fight, how
we march and who is paired with whom in situations that
demand it. Aquendar, once he joins us, makes the final
decisions about the ability of any of you to fulfill a task,
with the exception of the magicians. Ofeldar is in charge of
scouting duties, assigning them and supervising. I make
the final decision about where we go, how we present
ourselves in the cities, and, unless another course is
warranted, I do all the talking whenever applicable. Each
of you will get similar responsibilities once I learn your
abilities, and each of you will have a say in any decision, as
long as it is presented in a manner and place that does not
jeopardize the success of the mission.

“Third and last, at no time are any of you to mention
the pemilons to anybody outside the expedition. By their
special ability they will look like us as we ride across the
countryside, then vanish at cities and at night as they did
tonight. They will leave the main army back at Crentin
tonight and remain rumors to all that have not seen them
with their own eyes. Are all these understood?”

Tych checked for a nod from each rider than returned to
Findra. “Commander, organize the watches for tonight. I
want no two people of the same race in each watch.
Lendril and I will always take the last watch of the night
alone. Assign four per shift, two hours each. I’m going to
sleep, I’ll wake you all at sun break.” With this, he and
Lendril went to their bedroll, took off their heavy cloaks
and climbed into the blankets together. Gaylin lay next to
Tych and Lendril’s axe stood on its blade.

The hiftnuvin and a couple others waited for the watch
assignments, and then also went to bed. As Tych had
hoped, most of the expedition moved closer together on the
logs and shared stories of their experiences on the wild,
dangerous continent of Li, and by this began to understand
each other better.

Just after zenith on the next day, they arrived at the
gates of Efreidenak and the pemilons vanished into the
fields surrounding the city without even a whisper. At the
city gates a guard stopped them and tried to restrain a
smile. “This is quite a display. We have six of the devil
races, four mountain freaks, three I’ve never seen before
and only six humans. Tell me humans, how did you come
to be with such slime?”

Reichet already stood on foot in front of the expedition,
his huge battle-axe taller than him even with the handle
planted in the ground at a forty-five degree angle. The
soldier took a long look at the two long, curved blades and
the point between them and turned white. Sir Xalt, as
choreographed by Tych in case they faced such resistance,
said, “Would you care to insult Commander Aquendar’s
friend one more time?” Now Tych stood astride the
neftiran warrior, Gaylin drawn and glowing. “Or would
you rather insult the endaril that rescued this kingdom and
holds the undying gratitude of the queen?” Now Vilmar,
the hiftnuvin archer chosen by Ofeldar stood on the other
side of Reichet, bow loaded and aimed. “Of course, this
archer could always pin you to the wall for insulting his
proud and powerful race. So, which will it be, human
slime?”

A long silence weighed heavily on the air. Finally, the
guard said, “Follow me, I’ll take you to Commander
Aquendar.”