Steel and Sorrow (53 page)

“Looks like you’re going to get your wish soon enough,” said the mage.

Conroy’s army advanced.

* * *

The arm of the mangonel slammed into the crossbeam, sending reverberations through the entire piece of equipment. Another went off to Raker’s right, followed by two trebuchets and then every other piece of siege equipment they had. The engineer smiled wide.

It feels good to be doing this again.

He watched the stone and debris sail through the air, grimacing because part of Kaz’s strategy was to have most miss, thus making them appear inept at first.

“We’re going to run out of rocks real quick at this rate,” said Senald.

“We’re going to spread them out going forward. I just wanted the first round to look more impressive in order to add to the illusion.”

“What a waste.”

“Yep,” said Raker. He hated holding back, but he reminded himself it was for good reason. “But our orders are to appear like we’re having trouble sighting our targets. That’s what Conroy would expect given the spy he used to infiltrate our ranks and try to sabotage us. We don’t change our approach until we hear from Kaz. Besides, the real damage this time is supposed to come from Drake and the mage. At least for now, we’re more of a distraction.”

Senald grunted. “How’d you sniff out the spy anyway?”

“During the last set of drills, I noticed Cletan . . . .”

“Isn’t it Clarnat?”

“Who’s telling this story?” said Raker as he gave Senald a look. “Anyway, Cletan had caught on too quickly once he came over from Bronn’s army. He just seemed to have a knack for how the equipment should operate. I figured he was either some overachiever like the kid is or he was hiding something.”

“And you chose the latter?”

“You should know by now, I’m too cynical not to.”

A trebuchet bucket whipped off to the right. Both watched the contents miss Conroy’s advancing army by nearly twenty-five yards.

“You’re worried about him, aren’t you?” asked Senald.

“Worried about who?”

“Drake. I can tell by the way you’re scanning the field. You’re trying to find their hiding spot. And well, this is the most you’ve talked to me without an insult since I’ve known you.”

Raker chuckled. “Yeah, the boy grows on you.” He whipped his head around. “Don’t go telling him I said that. The kid is already making me soft.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.”

“Good.” Another trebuchet groaned as the wheel rocked. “You’re alright, Senald. I’m hard on you and the others because I want us to be the best. It’s not personal. If I didn’t like you, I would have dropped you off the wall at Cathyrium.”

“Thanks. I guess.”

Raker’s attention went back to the slowly disappearing field. Conroy’s forces marched in one of the tightest lines he’d ever seen.

I hope you keep your head on straight, kid. We’re counting on you to be the ace in the hole.

* * *

Kaz braced himself as Conroy’s heavy infantry collided with his center with the force of a giant wave pushing against a mountain. The lines buckled under the impact and faltered back several steps before digging in to counter the tide of men.

Conroy had used Markus’s spearman to form the point of his V formation. The men stabbed with the heavy shafts methodically. Kaz had positioned his own spearman across the center as well. The losses he initially suffered made him wonder if he should have placed Jeldor’s better trained pikemen at the center.

No. We aren’t trying to push through the center. We just need to hold.

Jeldor’s pikemen would be far more effective on the flank as they sought to encircle the enemy.

Kaz felt the shift in the air and the resolve of the men to either side of him strengthen. The spear points of the enemy missed their mark more frequently than before. He didn’t need to look over his shoulder to know that Krytien and the two mages had lent their support. His ragged lines tightened against the enemy’s onslaught. Kaz grunted out a command and stepped back, deflecting the spears thrusts lancing out at him. Another step slowly followed the first.

The enemy pushed harder once they saw Kaz’s lines give way, but to his men’s credit, they held lines as they lured their opponent in.

* * *

Yanasi’s bowmen had harassed the enemy forces on their approach, but the tight shields of the spearman ensured little of her company’s shafts reached their targets.

“Captain, General Grayer is calling for you to pull back,” said a private that materialized beside her.

She tightened her jaw in frustration, but gave the orders to her men.

They retreated out of the back rows of light infantry and reformed outside of the lines. Yanasi found Grayer atop a mount near a small company of light cavalry. He watched the battle intently.

“General, permission to return to the ranks,” asked Yanasi. “I was about to bring up the crossbowmen. I think their added strength is more effective against the enemy’s armor.”

“Permission denied,” said Grayer shaking his head. “I need to tighten my lines.”

“Then what do you need me to do, sir?”

“Nothing, for now. Return to your men and stay ready.”

“But sir, what about. . . .”

“Captain, those are my orders. Stay safe.”

“Yes, sir.”

Yanasi begrudgingly returned to her men as the sounds of the battlefield reverberated around her.

So that’s it? He’s trying to protect me?

“Where is he sending us next, Captain?” asked one of her men, eager to do his part.

“We’re to remain in reserve until we receive further instruction.”

“But—” started the man.

“Your instructions are to sit tight, soldier,” she snapped. “I’ll let you know if they change.”

“Yes, Captain,” said the man as Yanasi drudged past.

She stood at the front of her men and watched the battle rage on. They couldn’t fire from this distance without the risk of striking their own men. Essentially, they were birds whose wings had been clipped. Her knuckles turned white as she tightened the grip on her bow.

* * *

Kroke huddled behind the trunk of a thin tree. Rygar lay on his stomach somewhere in the tall grass about twenty yards away. Though Kroke couldn’t see the battlefield from his position, the rattling noises traveling across the land permeated his senses. He closed his eyes for the smallest of moments, trying to picture the scene in his mind.

Weapons clashing. Men shouting. Blood spurting. Soldiers dying. Survivors crying.

He wished he was there.

Jonrell had always given him special missions so what Kaz had in mind did not surprise him. Still, he wished to be fighting at his friends’ sides.

They better not die on me.

Rygar’s head popped out of the tall grass and with the slightest of hand gestures signaled Kroke forward. Kroke sprinted low and joined Rygar on his stomach.

“Fun, isn’t this?” whispered the scout.

“No.”

“But I thought you did this sort of stuff all the time when you had to do your assassin work.”

“You mean sneaking around? Yeah, but that was usually indoors or in some sort of city where there are more places to hide. I don’t like being this exposed. Besides, sneaking around wasn’t the fun part of a job.”

Rygar eyed one of his blades and nodded. “Got it.”

“Are we clear to move?” asked Kroke.

“As far as I can tell.”

“Then let’s move,” urged Kroke. The sounds of battle made Kroke anxious. Their efforts could either solidify Kaz’s victory or possibly end the battle early.

They snaked through the tall grass, sometimes crawling. They ducked around the occasional tree or small hill while moving quickly. They had been at it since late last night when Kaz tasked Kroke with sneaking behind enemy lines.

“Try to cause some disruption. Even if you only take out a few random soldiers, preferably officers, and then cut out of there, you’ll cause just enough problems to make Conroy wonder what we’re up to. Anything to distract him will work in our favor,” Kaz had said.

Kroke had bigger plans than just simple distraction.

I’m coming for you, Conroy.

“You know,” whispered Kroke. “I’m surprised Yanasi allowed you to come along. It’s one thing to go scouting, but to actually infiltrate their camp is something I never thought she’d let you do.”

Rygar noticeably swallowed.

“She doesn’t know?” asked Kroke, much louder than he intended.

“Shhh,” said Rygar. “What’s the matter with you? You know better than that to raise your voice. I can’t see everywhere.”

“What’s the matter with me? You better not die out here because I sure don’t want to be the one to explain to Yanasi what happened.” He shook his head. “Unbelievable. What were you thinking volunteering for this?”

“I knew you needed the quickest and safest path to their camp if Kaz’s plan was going to work. Like it or not, I’m the best at what I do. Kaz knows it.” He paused. “I sorta lied and told him Yanasi said it was fine.”

A distant voice shouted out. “I think I heard something, Sergeant.”

“Then let’s go check it out,” came the reply. “Private, do a quick sweep of the area.”

“I told you to keep your voice down,” hissed Rygar.

Kroke put a hand up to silence him and peeked over the grass. Half a dozen soldiers came over a small rise in the land. Another three joined them from the left. They began to fan out.

Rygar tapped Kroke’s leg and gave a questioning look. Kroke held up nine fingers and Rygar’s face paled. The kid swallowed and made a move to go for his sword, but Kroke grabbed his hand and steadied it. “Like I said, I’m not going to have that talk with Yanasi,” whispered Kroke.

“But there’s nine and they’re getting farther apart.”

Kroke flashed a rare grin. “I like a challenge. Besides, this is what I do best.”

Throwing knives slid from Kroke’s sleeves and into his palms. He stood and in one fluid motion whipped his arms forward and took out two soldiers carrying crossbows. The rest froze in surprise and he snatched two more blades at his waist and took off in a sprint. Kroke threw another blade, taking out the man farthest to his right. As he did so, one of the other soldiers found his nerve and a crossbow quarrel whizzed by Kroke’s head. Kroke sidearmed his next throw at that man as the soldier nervously tried to reload. The knife ended his efforts.

Four blades, four throws, four kills.

The sergeant lit a fire under the other men. Three brandished spears. The Sergeant and another held swords. Rather than call out for help which Kroke thought would have been the wiser decision, the men closed in.

Confident.

Kroke enjoyed the looks of surprise when he continued to run toward them. His two favorite knives materialized in his hands—the bone-hilted weapon he took off the sailor on Estul Island and the eagle-hilted dagger Jonrell had gave him long ago. The spearmen tried to position themselves strategically to encircle him, but they didn’t expect Kroke to be so fast. He slipped under the first two stabs they aimed at his head and chest. He deflected the third attack and slid on the grass under one of the spearman’s legs. Kroke’s arm thrust upward and his blade sank into the soldier’s groin. The spearman dropped his weapon, gagging on an attempted scream, as his hands went between his legs.

Kroke spun away from a slashing sword and rose to his feet. He did the injured spearman a favor and finished him quickly.

Kroke knocked aside a darting spearhead and used the curved hilt of Jonrell’s old blade to hook another spear coming at his stomach. He twisted his wrist and wrenched the weapon from the soldier’s hands. Kroke stepped forward while driving a knife into the man’s gut. Kroke used the soldier as a shield, blocking a slashing sword. Kroke let the man fall and took out the last spearman with two quick dagger punches to the throat and sternum.

Kroke pivoted to face the final two more heavily armored soldiers. Just as he got into a crouch, Rygar came up out of the tall grass swinging wildly. The outburst distracted the swordsmen and Kroke went after the closest of them. Trying to recover, the sergeant swung high, but Kroke ducked under the cut and slid his blade into the officer’s chest. Kroke twisted the blade and finished him.

Rygar stood over the dead body of the last man, wearing a satisfied grin. “See, you needed my help after all.”

“I didn’t need anything,” said Kroke, quickly sheathing his blades. “I had both of them.”

“Maybe. But now I can go back to camp and brag about what I did.”

“You mean without lying.”

“Oh, I’m still going to lie,” said Rygar as he put his sword away. “It’s just now there will be a bit of truth to it.” He started stripping the closest soldier, then stopped and looked up. “You gonna help? We don’t have much time.”

“What are you doing?”

“Someone is going to look for them eventually and it will be even harder to sneak around then. Disguises would help.”

“You think we can pull that off?”

Rygar shrugged. “We have a better chance of doing it this way than trying to crawl in the grass.” He stopped a second. “Uh, what’re you doing?”

“Stripping the body.”

“No offense, but how about you try to grab someone closer to your size like that one over there. Besides, it would probably be smarter to pick someone with less blood on them.”

Kroke grinned and moved to the body Rygar pointed out.

Nothing like killing and good-natured ribbing to lift your spirits.

* * *

Krytien swore loudly as a heavy boot from the man in front slammed down on his foot. It had been the third time in less than a minute and he could feel his toes going numb. Mages didn’t generally wear standard issue foot coverings, but after today he’d change that.

As long as I make it out of this.

Kaz wanted him as close to the front of the army’s lines as possible in order to maximize the protection he could provide the men. Nora and Lufflin flanked him. Soldiers jostled the three mages as the men did their best to both fight the enemy and protect them. Krytien knew it had been a risk to include Lufflin in their strategy, but given the other details of Kaz’s plan, he had no other option to turn to.