A Darkness Unleashed (Book 2) (26 page)

He let go his power, and both of them gasped.

“I saw a little boy hugging a man in a bright, white apron.” Maddi reached out to adjust the tunic on his shoulders. “Was that you and…and your father?”

“I don’t know,” Tallen replied, sniffing. “I saw a girl hugging a tall man.”

Tears flowed from Maddi’s eyes, but she did not sob. “It was…amazing. What happened? ”

Tallen shook his head. “I don’t know exactly. It felt a little like when I used to visit the Dreamrealm, before I found out Galdreth could find me there.” He took up her hand. “But it was far more wonderful.”

Maddi smiled, her exquisite lips catching the dim light. “It was.” She squeezed his hand. “But we should not do it again until we know it is not dangerous to you, especially if it is part of this Dreamrealm.”

Sadness washed through his heart, but the fear that crept along its edge let him know she was right.

“Don’t worry,” she said with a laugh and a push onto the bed. “We still have the old fashioned way to…entwine.”

“The Kingdom of Gannon shall, in times of war with any power not listed as Allies in Section One of this Treaty, provide full and utter protection to any of the five Free Cities, save in the case of war between said Free Cities as a matter of civil dispute.” – Fourth Treaty of Alliance between Gannon and the Free Cities, 330 A.R.

C
aptain Jaerd Westar shifted his sore shoulder underneath the twenty pounds of chainmail slung over his back. His Gannon-blue cloak, strapped across his chest for battle, pulled a little tightly where the stab wound still caught in his muscle.

Maddi laughed. “It’s what you deserve for getting in a bar fight.”

Straightening his arm, Jaerd eyed her on the other side of Tallen and grumbled under his breath to his horse. “Like I told you after you healed me, I was breaking up the bar fight.”

The horse seemed not to hear as he stamped the gradually thawing ground. Spring scented the edge of the breeze coming out of the west
. The sun holds a good dollop of it, too.
He pulled at his collar where the two silver stars poked at his neck.
I hope we get on the road soon. This waiting is going to kill us.

Tallen edged his old palfrey closer. “How soon will they be getting here?”

Hiding a frown of uncertainty, Jaerd gestured with his reins at the horizon. “He’s the king. He gets here when he gets here.” He examined the horse Tallen called Stew. “You’re still riding that thing? I thought he was old when dad got him for a steal. They’re a smooth ride…” Jaerd snickered. “…for a lady.”

His little brother lifted his nose in the air. “Or a fine gentleman.” He twirled one finger. “Or a powerful wizard.”

Jaerd laughed out loud, catching a quick glare from Magus Britt a dozen paces away. He cleared his throat. “Will he be able to carry you and that ego of yours all the way across the Wastes?”

Tallen patted the horse’s withers. “He already did once.”

“Fair enough.” Lowering his head in surrender, Jaerd turned back to look at the forces spreading around him.

The five thousand Gavanoran cavalry under Duke Aginor stood in solid ranks along his right to the east. Another eight thousand soldiers in gray gathered to his left, the entirety of the Free City guard. About three quarters had no mounts.
They all look like new recruits, with their crooked ranks and horrified faces.
He looked for their captain and his men in black.
And it looks like Mandibor is now a General…Waters save us all.

A different sort of soldier waited in perfectly mounted ranks on the other side of the main road. The Bluecloak vanguard had arrived last night under the command of General Shale Darax. Fifteen thousand heavy cavalry; the elite of the king’s army.
And each as hard as any man at Highspur. ‘Twould be an honor to serve with them.

Jaerd assessed the small group around him. Magus Britt watched everything with suspicion, looking for someone to snap at, while Brawny sat next to the front hooves of the Battlemage’s horse. Earl Boris held his jaw locked and his countenance fixed on the eastern road.
Even if we are the rearguard, it’s honor enough just to serve under him.

Tallen’s mix of friends clustered close by, the wizard, the paladin, and the rogue.

And the healer…

While they traveled, Maddi scoured the countryside when her eyes were not fixed on Tallen, and she was always a step ahead of him. Jaerd smiled, happy for his brother’s newfound love.

A long, low horn called out from the patchwork of farms and forest to their east, followed by the hollow rumble Jaerd recognized as the pounding of thousands of feet and hooves. The Bluecloak vanguard snapped into even tighter attention, while Boris cracked his knuckles. Jaerd’s horse stamped and flicked its tail.

A wedge of men in Fadecloaks rode out of the trees, followed by about a hundred Bluecloak knights, horse and man in full plate. Behind the knights came a mix of bannermen, each carrying the standard of one of the great houses of Gannon. The gold ship on pale blue of House Lindon was met step for step by the bannerman of House Belcester, with his seahawk on aqua and amethyst. The lords of the Snowbourne marched next, the crossed gray hammers on green of House Darax in formation with the green bridge on a brown field of House Vault, and the sable pine tree of House Norglenn. Other banners followed, some Jaerd recognized, some he did not.

“I don’t see the Temple sigil,” Maddi whispered to Tallen, but loud enough Jaerd heard.

“One message reported that the High Elder remains in Gavanor,” he told her. “I imagine the idea of journeying into the Wastes exasperated His Fatness.”

Maddi’s sigh remained brief, before the wary look returned . “Hopefully the Lord Doctor was smart enough to do so himself.”

The paladin fingered his silvery blade. “I assure you, Maddi. Tymin Marten will not harm anyone in my care.” He winked at her. “And you are in my care.”

A dozen brass horns blared a wild flourish, and a circle of horsemen, each hoisting the rampant dragon of Gannon, trotted over the crest in the road. In their center, upon a pristine white stallion, rode King Arathan VII, slumped in his saddle, the Opal Crown tilted drunkenly to one side. As they approached, Jaerd saw the king had not shaved in days, and a fine white grizzle had gathered on his cheeks and chin. At Boris’ lead, the entire group bowed low in their saddles.

The king nodded to Duke Aginor, who had ridden from his own command to greet his liege. “Aginor. Your son welcomed us warmly in your stead. I am glad to see my Western Warden guards his Realm well.” He gestured to the passing army. “I would that you take most of your cavalry and join my own. Leave one thousand for the Earl of Mourne to replace those he took with him to Highspur and lost.”

Boris looked ready to chew limestone, while the duke bowed from his saddle. He and the western Barons rode off to gather the greater part of their forces to join the passing army.

The king straightened a little before he addressed Earl Boris. “So you lose my fortress, and then gather me a paltry band of half-breed Free Citiers to help retake it.”

Offense rising in the back of his throat like sour bile, Jaerd bristled at the comment, but Boris lowered his head even further.

“I offer only what I can, Your Majesty. As my letters to you reported, Highspur was overwhelmed by superior forces and ultimate treachery.” He indicated some of the shorter Free City soldiers. “Though to paint an entire race with the actions of a few cultish madmen would be a terrible mistake.”

The king folded his skinny arms. “I have corresponded with the Whelp King, Berik, and he intends to cleanse this Galadrian Cult from the Dwarven homeland. Therefore, the Dwarves of the Rock are too busy to join us in this endeavor.” The king unfolded his arms to wring his hands. “They promise more aid soon, but better we do this without them. It is the curse of our strength that we humans must bear the burden of freedom.”

Boris looked up at King Arathan. “Many of the orc host died upon the walls of Highspur, and many more died when Kirath…burned.” The earl shifted in his saddle. “But if they have reinforced, we should expect near a quarter million of them to await us at the Gallond, where they seem to have drawn a line.”

Arathan waved one hand. “Yes. This was all in your report.” He shifted his crown into a more stately position. “You are to lead the soldiers of the west and these ragtag Free City men as our rear guard. Your friends…” The king lifted a finger toward Tomas and Dorias. “…can remain with you. Glad they should be that we meet them again outside our realm, for their banishment still stands.” The king moved to urge his horse forward, yet hesitated and looked back. “Magus Britt, you will report to the Battlemage ranks at once. Your skills will be greatly needed in the coming battle.”

The king smirked as he rode away to rejoin his bannermen and the Bluecloak knights. The vanguard on the far side of the road swept into the lead, clearing a path before their king. Joslyn Britt followed Arathan, a concerned flash of his eyes at Boris before he left. The earl only returned it in silence. Brawny hopped up with a similar look at Boris, and then trotted after the Battlemage, his nose searching the air.

Jaerd watched King Arathan ride away, a sudden awareness dawning in his mind.
That man despises his son! Why?

A great procession of nobility passed by, carrying all the colors he had seen before and more. More Bluecloaks came, followed by thousands more men in the varied house colors of all the Eastern, Western, and even Southern Realms. Jaerd watched them all with scant attention, his thoughts focused on his commanding officer.
He as much as admitted being Arathan’s bastard at Highspur, but the king treats him with disdain. Perhaps the king does blame him for Highspur, but I saw this in Daynon before.
Jaerd squinted at Dorias, who pretended to watch the ranks go by as much as he did.
The wizard will know more. I’ll have Tallen squeeze him for information.

It took hours for the army to pass, line upon line of spearmen, swordsmen, and archers. The larger houses marched with more organization, while the lesser houses, some in groups no bigger than a dozen, shuffled along in a rough approximation of keeping time.
A good deal of these men are no more seasoned than the Free City recruits.
A growing fear snuck into the back of his mind.
The orcs at Highspur were out for blood. They’ll eat some of these men alive.

Another battalion of Bluecloaks trotted by, serving as outriders for the entire host.
Thank the Waters for them…
He shifted the cloak on his shoulders.
…us I guess. They’ll keep this motley lot pasted together with sheer guts and fortitude.

As the ranks continued to march by and the sun lifted to noon, Jaerd’s fears about experience dwindled, overcome by confidence in their numbers. “I’ve never seen so many swords,” he murmured as a battalion of infantrymen from House Bahalan of Forksmeet trudged by.

“Then you know I haven’t,” Tallen added, his voice sounding relieved to have the silence broken by something other than marching and its accompanying orders.

Dorias sat in his saddle with arms folded, reins hooked around the saddle horn, while his black mare stomped one hoof. “I’d doubt anyone in that army, save Arathan, has. Maybe not even him.” He looked to Tomas. “What is your count?”

“Two hundred and twelve thousand with eighty-seven thousand on horse.”

Gwelan passed a coin across the back of his hand. “Add at least another thousand mounted as outriders.”

“With our force and more to come…” Tallen gestured at the still moving line of men. “…we should have them outnumbered. Right, Jaerd?”

Giving his brother a reassuring pat to mask his disquiet, Jaerd forced his sense of unease back into the recesses of his mind. “No doubt, especially with what you pulled off at Kirath.”

Tallen only nodded.

The sun was well past noon when several thousand over-stuffed supply wagons trundled by. Earl Boris lifted his hand and their rearguard force followed at the back of the line. The Free City soldiers formed up and began to march behind the wagons.

Tallen leaned close, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Why is the rearguard such a dishonor?”

Jaerd chuckled. “Just give it a little while, especially with an army this big.”

Within an hour, Tallen began to retch. Jaerd laughed again. “Ninety thousand horses leave a mess behind them, don’t they? And don’t think that every man here can wait until break for a piss either.”

Maddi pinched her nose. “Someone is unhealthy, is all I have to say.”

The breeze picked up as the day waned, and though it brought colder air, it carried away most of the stench. Jaerd shifted in his saddle, the ache of the first day just starting to creep into his hips, when a long, repeated horn blast sounded from miles ahead.

“The call to halt.” Boris lifted his hand, and his own bugler echoed the front horns.

At Boris’ signal the entire rearguard shifted to the north side of the road. The cold wind continued through the night, but there were still enough trees in the lands surrounding Novon for the army to build huge fires. They cooked herd animals brought on the hoof, as well as what little game was foolish enough to travel near the host’s outriders. The smell of roasting meat almost drove away the stench of unwashed men and horses.