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Elsewhere ti-3 Page 12

by Richard D. Parker


  “You think they’ll come?” Gaston asked, revealing his own doubt. The Rhondono stubbornly remained in the Gap, like a timid mouse afraid to leave its hole.

  Captain Tanner nodded. “They’ll come…eventually. If they’re reckless enough to leave the sanctuary of the Gap before the Knights control the lands from here to Cape…well, then we’ll teach them something of respect.”

  “If the Knights arrive while we are engaged with the Rhon…”

  “The bulk of the Knights are still fifty miles east of Cape,” Tanner interrupted. “You must show faith in our new allies from Light.”

  Wynth bowed slightly at the endorsement. “The Knights have split into three groups,” he said his voice rough and deep. “We believe one small group is heading east to scout Cape, while another of maybe a hundred or so horsemen are heading south toward Manse. But the main army is still a fair distance from Cape and poses no danger to our forces at the moment.”

  Jeffery Gaston was silent for a moment. He was nervous, on edge, and the fact that an Executioner managed to slip past him caused him to seriously doubt his own judgment. It left him uneasy as he wondered what other little surprises the enemy had in store for them. He was just relieved that Cyndar Huntley would live. She was far too beautiful for such a death; luckily she was a mighty fighter.

  “I would still feel better if we were on the move,” Gaston finally said, which made Tanner smile; it grew wider as he caught movement at the mouth of the Scar Gap.

  “Perhaps we soon will be,” he said in a low voice and raised his right hand for silence, though the Rhondono were well over a half mile below them. They watched as a small force of enemy soldiers, no more than two thousand men in all and less than a hundred horse, exited the Gap and headed along the north road toward Cape.

  “Fools.” Gaston commented even as the enemy horsemen spread out away from the main body to scout for any possible danger hidden in the hilly countryside. A group of perhaps twenty to twenty-five riders headed directly for their grove, but Tanner and the rest did not stay around to be discovered. They moved back among the trees and then out and down the far side of the hill. They rode quickly several miles to the southeast to the main body of Massi cavalry, which now numbered nearly forty-five hundred.

  “Contact Zebo and Sarbeth,” he told Wynth curtly and then formed up his men quickly. They were packed in tight formation but even still stretched for nearly a quarter of a mile.

  “Captain Gaston, take two hundred men and eliminate the scouts heading our way. We’ll meet you at Bald Knock Hill,” Tanner ordered and the younger man nodded with a grin, happy to be attacking the enemy, happy to be delivering his own surprise.

  Bald Knock Hill was a long, high piece of land that ran east and west for nearly seven miles and separated the hilly southern country from the low-lying area near the northern shore. The road to Cape ran directly at the base of the hill for more than three miles before angling toward the north and then continuing on its way to the second largest city in Massi.

  While the road hugged the bottom of the hill it was an obvious ambush spot and any army traveling along it would know this and be mindful, including the Rhondono. Which was why Tanner avoided the obvious and instead chose a spot nearly a mile farther east. Here the road veered nearly a half-mile from the crest of the hill. He hoped it would be far enough along that the enemy would begin to relax. Complete surprise from such a distance was not possible; still a half-mile offered little time to prepare against a charge of cavalry. Captain Tanner was counting on generating a great deal of panic and confusion as the enemy attempted to meet his charge.

  The main group of Massi cavalry reached their destination after only a short hour-long ride. Captain Gaston joined them some forty minutes later, just as the first of the Rhondono foot soldiers came into view. He pulled his mount up next to his Captain.

  “Losses?”

  “Three. Blaxley was killed. Turnbrook injured and Colby lost his horse,” Gaston reported matter-of-factly. Turnbrook and Colby are heading back to Manse…double.”

  Tanner nodded, pleased despite the loss of Blaxley, who was skilled and well liked. “Take control of the left…follow my lead. Hit their rear hard.”

  Jeffery smiled again and rode off.

  The Rhondono, despite their caution, were spread out so their lines were just over a quarter of a mile long. A small group of scouting horseman rode the top ridge of Bald Knock hill, but due to the rough terrain they lagged a bit behind the lead elements of the foot soldiers. The Massi charge came just as the Rhondono cavalry spotted Gaston’s position, which was along the very western tip. Tanner and the center force topped the hill and began their descent just as the enemy scouts began to race back to raise the alarm. It was a pointless exercise, for the Rhondono foot soldiers were aware of the Massi cavalry almost instantly.

  Tanner aimed his charge at the very center of the column meaning to cut the enemy forces in half while Gaston attacked from the rear and Captain Kerr rounded on those in the lead.

  The attack was hard and fast, and though the Rhondono troops were well-seasoned and hard soldiers, they were tired and weakened from fighting the Toranado on their way through the Scar Gap. The charge, even before it reached the enemy line, was just as frightening and demoralizing as Tanner hoped it would be.

  He charged down the steeply sloped grassy hill, elated that the enemy appeared to be panicking even before the start of the fight. The lead group of Massi horsemen was only about fifty yards from the Rhondono lines when suddenly Velvet, Tanner’s mare, disappeared from under him.

  ‘Gopher hole,’ he thought as he flew through the air. He flipped and landed hard on his back, stunned. He rolled over and over as his body made its way down the rest of Bald Knock hill before finally coming to rest. He tried to rise, not fully in control of his senses, when a passing horse kicked him in his head and all went dark.

  Even without their Captain, the Massi annihilated the Rhondono soldiers. But the rout of the enemy was not just a matter of surprise and energy level. The Rhondono did not exhibit the skill of the Massi foot soldiers and archers with whom the Massi cavalry practiced. Later, after the battle was over, Captain Gaston was sure that they would have lost a great many more horses and men had they been attacking the lines of David Hahn and his group of formidable archers. But there was another reason why the Massi lost just seventy-five men and a hundred horses…their own skill was growing; they were becoming seasoned. Battle, and the constant need to hone their skills were turning the Massi cavalry into a truly lethal force.

  Nearly nine hundred Rhondono died in the attack and of the eleven hundred or so survivors, another two hundred carried such mortal injuries that they were quickly put out of their misery. The remaining nine hundred were stripped of all arms and clothes down to their drawers, then marched ceremoniously back to the Scar Gap. Along the way another fifty or so were killed for rebelliousness before the rest were left to their own devices at the mouth of the Gap. They would make their way back to Eno or not, it was of no real concern for the Massi. The Massi horsemen did not have the means to take prisoners.

  Gaston and his men were saddened by the loss of their Captain. Tanner was found with a broken leg and the left side of his skull had been crushed.

  “Let Lonogan know of Tanner’s death,” Gaston told the Speaker Wynth, having assumed temporary command. “Inform him that we will be heading back to Manse.” Jeffrey added vaguely. He knew the cavalry were on the plains to engage and distract the enemy, but the Temple Knights, who outnumbered the Massi more than two to one, where a very imposing force and Gaston was not at all confident he should be leading these men against them. One mistake could mean all their deaths and the Knights were known to exploit any weakness or error in judgment. Gaston was only confident about one thing, command did not sound quite so appealing when it was thrust upon you suddenly.

  VI

  Samantha scrambled into the room she shared with Gwaynn, and whipped out of her cl
othes like a harlot on a time limit. She quickly pulled on a blue velvet dress Gwaynn gave her while they were in Solarii.

  “It was my favorite,” he said as they went through his sister’s things, handing Samantha anything she wanted. Gwynn apparently was just a bit shorter than Samantha with a slightly larger bust, but the clothes were nearly a perfect fit, at least in Samantha’s mind, and the garments she took were much finer than any of the rags she’d worn recently.

  She dressed rapidly, only having a bit of trouble with the ties that ran up each side of the waist. When she was finished she checked her look in the small wall mirror, which also belonged to Gwynn at one time. The dress was gorgeous, but her hair was a bit droopy from the humidity, but it would have to do. She was anxious for Gwaynn’s return. She needed him, needed to feel safe once more. The appearance of another Executioner frightened her badly…even more so when Cyndar Huntley informed them that Samantha was the true target. She shivered just thinking about it, and felt horrible about the wounds Cyndar had taken on her behalf. She was jealous of Cyndar, jealous of her beauty, of the way she moved, of her natural sexuality, and now Samantha was afraid Cyndar would no longer be beautiful. The doctor believed her jaw would set with no problem but she would have a scar along the side of her face right at the jaw line. On one hand, Samantha felt awful about the woman’s wounds but delighted that Cyndar’s good looks were now marred. The two conflicting emotions bubbled about in her psyche and caused Samantha to feel slightly nauseated whenever she thought of the beautiful Captain.

  She brushed through her hair and checked herself in the mirror one more time. Once she was resigned to the fact that her hair was the best it was going to get, she dropped the brush and bolted out of the room, hiking up her dress to her knees to free her legs to run. She passed several soldiers in the main hall but they just smiled at her without saying a word. By the time she arrived in the courtyard Jess, Lonogan, Monde and Gwaynn had already arrived. Her eyes focused on the latter and she could tell instantly from his expression that all had not gone well on the trip, but then he turned and spotted her coming through the main door and his face broke into a delicious smile. She ran to him, uncaring what the others thought, loving the fact that he was moving toward her as well. When she was close enough she launched herself into his arms, trusting him to catch her, which he did and then spun her around once to bleed off the momentum of her run.

  “Welcome home,” she said just a little breathless as he gently placed her back on her feet.

  Gwaynn was still smiling. “You look wonderful,” he said, his eyes alight with happiness as they traveled over her attire.

  “Why thank you kind sir,” she said and performed a little curtsy, but when she straightened her face became suddenly serious. “It did not go well?”

  Gwaynn shook his head. “That’s an understatement. The Cassinni will not come to our aid, and the Tars of Noble Island nearly kept us prisoner until the conflict was over.”

  Samantha gapped at him. “Prisoner?”

  Gwaynn nodded again. “If not for Tar Nev, I believe they would have succeeded…they would have had to kill me,” he added off handedly.

  Samantha shivered against him, and when he looked down at her he could see she was holding back tears.

  “What is it?” he asked surprised, for she was rarely weepy. He glanced around but Bock, na Gall and Monde were already moving away, heading down toward Manse.

  “There was an…Executioner,” she whispered and Gwaynn felt his stomach knot up with a fear so strong he became terrified it might overwhelm him. The coward he’d been for most of his life seemed to be lurking over his shoulder, and drawing ever closer since he learned Samantha was carrying his child.

  “An Exe…”

  “Cyndar killed him…she’s badly hurt,” she added in a rush. “Gwaynn…I’m afraid…I’m afraid for our baby.”

  Gwaynn was silent for a moment.

  ‘Cyndar,’ he thought and his heart fell. She was by far the best of his new Captains, most assuredly the toughest fighter in the army aside from Krys and himself. Her loss, on top of the disappointment of the recent trip, threatened to tip Gwaynn over the edge and into despair. But he was torn from his dark thoughts when Krys rode into the courtyard on a large Bay. He spotted Gwaynn and cantered toward him pulling up the horse at the very last minute.

  “Good to see you,” Krys greeted Gwaynn with a frazzled look. “The Gap is clear. Wynth reports the Rhondono have been defeated on their march to Cape.”

  Gwaynn smiled. “Good…we needed some good news.”

  Krys frowned. “Tanner was killed. His horse broke a leg in the charge and he was trampled. I’m sorry.”

  Samantha gasped but Gwaynn was silent for a moment, breathing rapidly from this new blow. He was quickly running out of Captains…and options.

  “Gaston is currently leading the cavalry. They are heading back to Manse.”

  “No!” Gwaynn said quickly and much louder than he intended. “They must continue to engage and occupy the enemy. The Knights must have no reason to march on Manse. You know it will fall if they do, and if Manse falls…so does Massi. Tell Gaston he’s Captain of the cavalry now…that he must decide how and when they will fight the enemy…but fight them he must.”

  Gwaynn and Krys looked at each other without saying anything, but both knew that things were going badly. They would need a miracle to survive attacks from so many directions, from so many enemies.

  Krys took a deep breath. “The Deutzani have crossed the border. They are marching on Lynndon.”

  Gwaynn sighed and rubbed his forehead, then closed his eyes for a moment, attempting to marshal his thoughts. Such a move was not unexpected, though secretly Gwaynn hoped the Deutzani had lost heart and would remain out of the coming battle. Finally he opened his eyes.

  “Inform Captain Marcum that he’s alone and that he must hold,” Gwaynn said. “We can’t afford to send anymore men to Lynndon.”

  Krys nodded, well aware that they were stretched very thin. With Tanner dead and the bulk of the cavalry on the plains and the main army moving south to engage the Palmerrio at the Aleria Pass, they had few reserves. Captain Vosser would be leading the defenses of Manse with little more than a hundred true soldiers, the remaining five thousand were made up mostly of old men and women. It was hoped that with the new defensive lines, all Vosser would have to do was give the impression that part of the Massi army was hold up behind the new battlements. It was a risk, but the civilians of the city would do their best to look formidable and discourage the Temple Knights from attacking the city. They all knew that if they failed and the Knights attacked, the cities defenses would fold up like a house of cards and all would be lost.

  The only other force they had available was under Captain Kommidi, who was leading fifteen hundred cavalry up on the Plateau. They were green and untested, and were primarily charged with guarding the Scar itself. Captain Hahn suggested watch towers be placed all along the Scar, keeping an eye on the natural boundary in case any army decided to climb the cliff face to gain access to the Plateau. The watch towers…though there were few actual towers, were positioned three miles apart and manned with only three men each, not enough to pose any threat to an ascending army but enough to light the signal fires and call the cavalry under Kommidi.

  “Tell Bock to hold off on his plans to leave and join the army for now,” Gwaynn said shaking his head. They must continue to fight…in the end they would win or lose and that was all there was to it. “I may send you to Lynndon,” he added looking at his Weapons Master. “But I’d like to know what Lonogan thinks.”

  Krys nodded then signaled for a messenger. “We must defeat the Palmerrio…if they have the run of the Plateau…if we lose the battle in the south.”

  “I know…I know…” Gwaynn snapped, then immediately put his hand on Krys’ shoulder in apology. “I need to kill someone,” he whispered with a shake of his head. “I need to fight.”

  “Let’s go,
” Samantha said quickly, though for the first time she was afraid, afraid for her baby and afraid for herself.

  “I’m ready,” Krys agreed.

  Gwaynn smiled. “Give me twenty minutes. Have Bock meet me in the hall,” he said then reached out and took Samantha’s hand. “Come let’s go see Cyndar.”

  ǂ

  They sat on horseback just out of arrow range and watched as the first assault of the afternoon collapsed under a hail of arrows and boulders from the Massi defenders above.

  Ja Brude waited anxiously next to Arden, the young Deutzani King, without commenting on the events taking place before them. Ja was nervous. A spot on his back, directly between his shoulder blades, itched and twitched without reason and he had to fight the overwhelming urge to turn and glance behind him. He did not like being back in Massi. It felt like death, and deep in his brain a nagging notion kept bubbling up to the surface, the thought that this was all another trap and once again the Deutzani army had unwittingly walked directly into it.

  ‘Ah, but that is not correct,’ he thought. ‘We did expect a trap in Manse…but Arsinol, bold and confident, had entered anyway…well Arsinol was no longer bold and the fool robbed me of most of my confidence.’

  “We’ll get started on the shield houses tonight,” Captain Bodwin said sounding extremely confident as he watched the first of his retreating soldiers pass by their position. Of course the Captain was with Arden, sitting safely in Solarii during the battle of Manse so still had the luxury of confidence.

  Brude lost his mental fight and glanced briefly behind him. The town of Lynndon, what was left of it, was still smoldering, most of it nothing but black ash blowing in the wind. The destruction was not the doing of the Deutzani. The town had nearly burned itself out by the time the lead elements of their army arrived. The citizens of the town, having destroyed their own homes, had undoubtedly moved up to the relative safety of the Plateau.

 

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