The Hordes of Chanakra (Knights of Aerioch) (30 page)

BOOK: The Hordes of Chanakra (Knights of Aerioch)
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"Aye, Sir Kreg."

"Kaila?"

"I am well, Kreg.  These bandits are poor fighters."

Kreg placed a foot under one of the bandits and lifted, flipping him face up. "I don't think they were bandits, exactly."

"What say you?" Kaila dismounted to retrieve her arrows.

"At the end of the fighting," Kreg said, "I saw a man in armor." He started to go after his own arrows but saw that Bertan was already tending to that chore.

"It may be," Kaila said, "that some renegade knight leads them."

Kreg carefully wiped his sword on the clothing of one of the dead bandits. "I don't think so.  He was wearing Schahi armor."

"So." After wiping her own sword clean, Kaila slipped it back into its scabbard and mounted her horse. "A trap.  But to what end.  Did they seek merely to cause terror within the kingdom as you did with your commando units, or did they seek to kill or capture you and me?"

"I don't know," Kreg said, remounting his own horse. "I don't like it either way and, frankly, I think we'd better be more careful from here on out."

"You speak wisdom," Kaila said.

Bertan approached Kreg's horse to return his arrows. "Sir Kreg, I know it's noon, about time to stop, but..."

"But not here, right?" Kreg’s wave took in the bodies around them.  At Bertan's nod, he smiled, "Well, I feel the same way.  Let's move down the road a ways, but be ready for more attacks."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

A week later, they rode into Norveth.  The river valley was warmer than the highlands to the west but frost still dusted the ground in the mornings. As they entered the gate, the garrison sent a dispatch rider ahead of them.  Shillond met them at the entrance to the palace.

The wizard led them to a small parlor where they sat at the fire and Kreg and Kaila reported all that had happened since he had left the army to return to Norveth.

"And so, Keven, too, has been spirited away.  We know not how," Kaila said in conclusion as she finished. "It liked me not to leave Dahren in command, but I saw no other way."

"In Kaila's defense," Kreg said before Shillond could answer, "I agreed with her.  Dahren could easily lose us that entire army, but--" He shrugged. "--what other choice did we have?  We had to get back here.  If we can’t do something about these changeling armies then before long it won’t matter anyway. "

Shillond nodded. "I agree with both of you." He frowned at them. "And you've both been beating yourselves with whips over the decision.  Stop it, now.  You did the only thing you could."

He stood up and began to pace. "I have not done nearly as well.  Since returning to Norveth, I have faced difficulty after difficulty, problems that only a peer of the realm could address.  I have been unable to make even the first preparations for our attempt to find an answer."

"So what do we do now?" Kreg asked.

Shillond returned to his seat. "You say we cannot hold the west?"

"Not long.  Not long at all."

"Aye," Kaila said. "Belike, they are already in retreat, scant days behind us."

Shillond nodded. "How will that affect the other armies?"

Kreg considered that. "Could I see the map again?"

Shillond gestured.  A map floated from the rack by the door and unrolled itself on the table.  At the same time, Bertan entered the room, a large tray with a pitcher and several cups in front of him.

"Your wine, my Lords and Lady," he said.

"Just set it down, Bertan."

Bertan set the tray on a small table and started to retreat from the room.

"Stay, Bertan," Shillond said, looking up. "You'll have to start learning tactics sometime.  Now is a good time. Kreg?  If you will agree?"

"Huh?  Oh, sure.  Come on over, Bertan."

As they gathered around the map table, Kreg drew on the map with a stick of charcoal. "Okay, let's see.  We've got armies here in the east.  Another in the North and Faron holds Elam and Trevanta.  Dahren's probably already in retreat in the west." He looked up at Kaila. "That look right to you?"

Kaila studied the map for a moment and nodded. "The army in the north," she said, "is of doubtful quality.  Meronan knights and soldiers all, the loss of Merona will have sapped their spirits."

"I have spoken to Bryon and his forces are still solid," Shillond said. "They have won a number of victories in holding against assaults."

Kreg turned to Bertan. "Well, since I'm supposed to be training you, why don't you tell me what you think of the situation?"

Bertan studied the map. "The Meronan troops haven't been attacked yet.  They may not.  The winter storms are due to begin and I don't think even Schah will try to send a navy around to attack us from the north."

Kreg thought for a moment. "I don't know what your winter storms are like. Shillond?"

"I think Bertan's right.  My weather witching could not stop them. I don't know of anybody who could."

Kreg nodded. "Very good, Bertan, what about the other armies?"

Again, Bertan studied the map. "I don't see anything wrong with them."

Kreg stared at the map. "I don't know.  Something's not right."

Kaila, staring down at the map with him, shook her head. "It likes me not, either, and I cannot understand why.  Dahren is not so much a fool as to fail to fall back to Norveth and here we can hold long enough to seek what answers we need from the demon.  Faron is secure in the south.  Bryon holds the east.  With the winter storms, the Meronan forces become a reserve."

"Bryon holds in the east." Kreg whispered the words slowly.  A moment later he looked up. "How large a force would it take to bottle us up in the city?" he asked Shillond.

Shillond snorted. "Kreg, I'm a wizard, not a general, not even a knight except in name."

"Sorry.  Kaila?"

Kaila considered a moment. "Methinks 'twould require few enough.  The very river that guards us will also keep us within an' we be besieged.  Belike a small force could contain us within the walls."

"Mm hm," Kreg said. "And the rest of the army goes to attack either Bryon or the Meronan army.  I don't think the Meronans will be able to withstand the numbers they're likely to face, and not even Bryon can handle foes attacking from both sides at once."

Kaila winced visibly at that. "Aye, Kreg.  You speak sooth.  Faced we an ordinary army, then to divide their forces thus would be folly but ‘gainst the numbers they could conjure?  Both the Meronans and Bryon would be lost."

Kreg tapped the symbol on the map denoting Norveth. "Not quite, I think.  If we pull them back now, we can save them for the time being and strengthen the last defense of Norveth.  It's all I can think of."

"Aye," Kaila said. "It likes me not to abandon the rest of the kingdom, but I see no other choice.  Father?"

"I, too, agree.  I'll have to contact the others magically.  We can't wait for overland messengers." He shook his head.

#

Kreg and Kaila walked the walls of the city, inspecting the defenses.  Crews manned catapults, giant crossbows that could hurl stones and spears with fair accuracy to great distances.  Other crews manned ballistae, which could hurl bigger stones to greater distances, but with less accuracy.  Kreg suggested soaking hay bales in oil and hurling them, flaming, with the ballistae.  The hay bales would burst on impact and spread fire over a great area.  The crews looked at him as if he were mad.

"Kreg," Kaila said. "How keep we the ballista from burning?"

The question caught Kreg short.  Of course she was right.  Ballistae were made of wood, treated against the weather with pitch and would burn quite nicely.  He shook his head. "Bad idea." He sighed. “On my world they used burning hay bales, but I don’t know how they kept from setting fire to the ballistae.”

Guards kept careful watch although they did not expect an attack to come at nighttime.  The flickering torches cast eerie shadows of the battlements on the ground below.  Only one of the moons was visible and sparkled off ripples in the water filling the ditches across the bight of river.  Below, shadows of movement revealed where more guards patrolled.

"Shillond has said that he has already spoken to the High Seer of Merona," Kaila said after a long time in silence. "The Seer reports that Dahren has already lost in the west and retreats."

"That's no news," Kreg said. "We expected as much."

"Aye," Kaila said. "It is one thing to expect.  Another to know for certain."

Kreg laid a hand on her shoulder.

"The Seer did well, I think," Kaila continued after a while. "He sent a force of archers to harry and slow the Schahi so that the remnants of Dahren's army may escape."

"'Remnants.' I don't like the sound of that," Kreg said.

"I, too, am filled with foreboding." She paused again and turned to face Kreg with a smile. "According to the Seer, the archers grumbled that all they did was harass and slow Schahi troops. He selected the same archers as had that task in Merona."

"Well, they're good at it," Kreg said.

Kaila seemed about to laugh then the moment passed. "Aye," she said quietly. “And when will we be able to do more than harry and delay?”

“Shillond is in his workshop,” Kreg said. “He said there is a bit more preparation needed.  If we can get a day or two of peace we’ll be ready to go.”

#

Kreg and Kaila waited at the gate when Dahren led the few pitiful remnants of the western army back into Norveth.  Kreg felt his heart sink as he watched the band struggle through the gate.  Not one in twenty returned.  And few of those who did return were unwounded.  Kreg watched the bandages and splints and frowned.  There were no wagons, and no foot.  Only those who could ride had returned with Dahren.

As Kreg frowned down at the approaching troops, Bertan approached, leading a man in gray robes.

“What’s up, Bertan?”

“This is Kernak, one of the healers,” Bertan said.

Kernak bowed.

Kreg returned the bow. “How may I help you?”

“Sir Kreg, we have been attempting to treat some injuries but our spells have been failing.  I was told that you might be able to...”

“How long has this been going on?” Kreg asked.

“As soon as you and Duke Kaila returned to the city, Sir Kreg.”

“You should have sent word sooner.” Kreg spent a moment telling himself that he wanted magic to work. “Your spells should work now.” He looked again at the remains of Dahren’s force. “I think you’re going to need them.”

Kreg clabbered down the ladder from the battlement and raced to the gate.

"Great was the slaughter," Dahren was saying as Kreg approached. "For every one of our noble knights that fell, we slew twenty!"

"That was not well done." Shillond said.

"Not well done?" Dahren's hand fell to his sword hilt.  Shillond lifted one hand, palm forward.  Dahren paled and let go of the sword. "We have wreaked havoc in the Schahi army.  It is true, we've had our losses, but..."

"But we left you with an army," Kreg said, his lips tight, "and you return with...this." A jerk of his head indicated the knights and men-at-arms still straggling through the gates.

He looked up at Dahren, who returned his glare from his horse's back. "Where's the foot?" he asked Dahren.

"Hah!" Dahren said. "What concern have I for peasants?  They make their own way, skulking about the countryside no doubt."

Kreg felt his fists ball and his face grow tight.  He had to force two deep breaths before he could speak. "You abandoned them.  I swear, Dahren, when this is over, if Kaila doesn't take your head I will."

"Don't threaten me, puppy dog," Dahren glowered down at him.

"Don't give me cause." Kreg returned his glare.  With the edge of his vision he watched Dahren's shoulders, looking for the slight tensing of muscles that would give him an instant's warning before Dahren reached for his sword.

A lightning bolt struck the ground between them.  Kreg turned back to see Shillond standing with his hands raised.  A glowing mist surrounded one hand. The other smoked slightly.  The tang of ozone tickled Kreg's nose as Shillond said, "That is enough, both of you.  This is not the time."

Kreg forced his anger into the background. "As you say." He nodded to Shillond.

Dahren said nothing to Shillond, but he did nod.  To Kreg, he said, "There will be another time."

Kreg turned back to him. "Count on it."

Dahren spurred his horse, jabbing the rowels deeply into its sides.  The horse bucked once, but at Dahren's savage jerk on the reins it trotted forward, nearly bowling Kreg over.

As he moved into the distance, Kreg could hear Dahren pick up his string of boasts.

Kreg felt Shillond's hand on his shoulder. "Maybe I shouldn’t have lost my temper, Shillond, but I’ve had about enough of that...that...”

"Frankly, the fewer knights like Dahren we have, the less desperate our situation."

Kreg turned in surprise. “Then why’d you stop me?”

Shillond went on. "Had Dahren been afoot, I might well have allowed events to proceed.  Dahren has the edge in experience but you have strength and speed of him.  In single combat, I’d say you're his match and more, easily, but he was mounted and his steed is war-trained.  I am not certain you could have bested both."

Kreg let out a deep breath and felt the last of his tension drain away. "As may be, I'm just as glad we didn't fight." He looked over to where the gates were closing behind the last of the returning troops. "How many men died just to feed his ego?  Will we see any of the foot troops again?  Did any even survive?"

"I don't know," Shillond said. "It's not likely."

"No," Kreg said, "It's not.  Damn him.  This was supposed to be an orderly retreat, but he stayed until it turned into a rout.  It makes me sick."

Shillond squeezed his shoulder. "At least here Kaila and I both rank him.  We should be able to keep him in check."

"I hope so," Kreg said as he began to lead his way back to the palace. "I truly hope so."

#

"You are insane!" Duke Bryon raged at Dahren.  He had returned three days after Dahren. "Aye, I liked not these changes in our ways at first, but I see now that they win battles.  Kreg has done us no evil turn."

"And had I done as he wanted?" Dahren raged back with equal volume. "Then the Schahi army would be even larger than it is.  Kreg wanted me to turn back while I could still fight."

"He wanted you to preserve an army able to fight," Bryon said. "Not..."

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